OPENING VIDEO



The crowd is swept up into absolute madness, everyone screaming, cheering, going absolutely insane in fact. However, these are not the usual fans one is accustomed to seeing at an IWC telecast. The majority of them are dressed in mere rags as they inhabit the seats of the Manhattan Center, and look downright bloodthirsty. The ring is crudely assembled, as if it were pieced together by amateurs.

The primal roars of the audience finally cease once a lone figure appears on the balcony above them. He steps forward in a pear of jeans and a Napolean-esque jacket, his hands raised towards the now silent audience. World Champion Christian Savior begins his speech.

Christian: Can you DIG IT!

An inmate taps him on the shoulder and whispers into his ear. Christian repeats what he’s hearing aloud.

Savior: What do you mean that’s the wrong movie? Which one are we parodying again? Isn’t this the one with the Baseball Furies?

He is astonished by the response.

Christian: Ohhhhh. Gotcha.

The inmate steps away once he’s confirmed that Christian has the right speech in mind. Once again the Rising Phoenix lifts his palms aloft.

Savior: They sent in their best man. When we roll down the 59th Street Bridge to freedom we’re going to have their best man leading the way. From the neck UP!

The savage fans react to this repulsive, gruesome insinuation with a rousing wave of cheers. Savior isn’t finished yet and waits for the audience to calm before he continues.

Savior: From the hood of MY car!

Another piercing ovation rattles the walls of the Manhattan Center. Once again Savior waits for a lull in their response.

Christian: LET’S DO THIS!

The fans are once again jumping around anxiously as Savior takes his seat in a throne, surrounded by Jason Wheeler wearing a taxi driver’s cap, and Pat Evans wearing drab Indian style garbs. A malicious grin inhabits his face as he leans the side of his cheek against his fist, anxious to watch the impending slaughter.

Being led towards the ring is a shirtless Nathan Creed, a snake tattoo embedded in the flesh of his stomach and an patch placed over his eye. He is guided in the direction of the ring by several guards, beating their batons against their palms and ensuring that he dare not step out of line.

He moves up the stairs and to the apron before slipping through the ropes into the ring. He displays no emotion, not even a simple facial twitch or blink of his uncovered eye. The lack of any and all emotion persists as his opponent enters the ring. Dressed in a loincloth and looking incredibly imposing is a gargantuan foe with a Highlander like beard and mustache crudely pasted to his face.

Fans: KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL!!

The chanting continues from the sadistic crowd as Creed and his monstrous adversary find themselves ready to wage war. A club bearing nails is handed to both men, as well as trash can lids intended to be utilized as shields. They begin to circle one another with the obnoxious chanting continuing.

Fans: KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL!

Mark: I tell ya this is gonna be a hell of a match tonight, Susie.

Moore: If I weren’t so worried about being gang raped in the shower later I’d get a lot more enjoyment out of it.

Susie Moore and Mark Comeau are seated behind a wooden table at ringside, calling the action. The clubs begin to swing with Nathan feebly trying to protect himself via the makeshift shield.

Comeau: My Gawd, look at them go at it. This is a modern day David versus Goliath.

Susie: Only in this case Goliath is all hopped up on steroids and looks like he just came out of his cave to forage for food.

Fans: KILL, KILL, KILL, KILL!

The massive brute raises his club aloft once again when a steel chair cracks over his back. The incarcerated crowd turns their attention to an interfering Orlando Cruze, who repeatedly bashes the Neanderthal with a chair.

Mark: And what’s this, what’s this!?!

Susie: It looks like one of those cannibals who live in the sewers is interfering in this death match.

Creed and Cruze lay into the behemoth with stomps while an outraged Duke of New York, aka Christian, watches on in disbelief, his plans going horribly awry.

Comeau: This is insanity, utter insanity.

Moore: I know, we’re totally talking into microphones that aren’t even plugged in right now.

Mark: Actually they’re just Styrofoam cups.

Susie: Ohhh, so that’s why my mic smells like Cherry Coke.

The angered fans continue to boo as Orlando interjects himself into this battle, he and Creed decimating their gargantuan opposition. That’s when a shrill cry cuts through the madness of it all.

Everyone, EVERYONE!

For some inexplicable reason Axl Evermore is trying to get everyone’s attention as he hops anxiously near an exit.

Axl: Kingdom has taken the title!!

Christian lunges forward in his seat, almost choking to death on his half eaten popcorn. All eyes immediately shift towards another of the exits where Johnny Kingdom, adorned in an off-white lab coat is tip toeing out of the building. The World Title is crudely hidden under his jacket. With timid eyes he glances over his shoulder at all the stunned faces glaring back at him.

Kingdom: What? WHAT!?! I’m not doing anything. I was just going to get the belt detailed is all. I swear. Is this the face of a liar?

A smile so wide it could cut the earth in half extends across Kingdom’s face, trying to appear innocent.

Nathan: GET HIM!

Johnny hightails it through the exit with everyone packed in the Manhattan Center hot on his heels. Orlando and Creed dive out of the ring and join in with the fray while Christian joins in on the frantic chase.


DESTINY



Fireworks erupt from the staging area, where four slender screens cut into the shape of glass shards are assembled around the entry way, two on either side. These screens feature close up images of Nathan Creed, Orlando Cruze, Johnny Kingdom, and Christian Savior. Their pictures periodically alternate between the four screens.

Mark Comeau: Tonight Destiny will be fulfilled right here live on pay-per-view.

Susie Moore: So true, because I’ll finally live out my dream by joining a traveling circus.

Video cameras pan over the excited fans, thrusting their signs into the air and dancing about anxiously.

Comeau: The Manhattan Center sold out here for this colossal pay-per-view, where we will see a Double Title Tag Team match, Shin Iwate and Justin Davis in a Cartel Title Showdown, Orlando Cruze and Johnny Kingdom collide for the number one contendership, and Nathan Creed challenge for the World Title.

Susie: I think I finally get the meaning of the word clusterfuck.

Mark: I thought you would have been familiarized with that word ages ago.


SYCK-O VS. DISCO NINJA VS. PAT EVANS VS. MASKED VIGILANTE


A large Disco Ball descends from the ring. Filling the arena with spinning lights while the arena lights grow dim and The Bee Gees' "Night Fever" hits the audio system of the arena. Suddenly a puff of smoke explodes at the top of the ramp leading down to the ring. From this hazy view, everyone can see a shadowed figure disco dancing while the smoke. When the smoke clears and the Disco Ninja is seen in the dim light of his disco lights. He starts a series of handspring flips down to the ring, stopping at the aporn before rolling over the top rope and performing three jumping Jean Claude Van Damme roundhouse kicks before doing a bruce Lee style martial Arts pose to crowds reaction

Comeau: The Disco Ninja dancing his way to the ring with a pep in his step. He isn’t going to allow what happened on the last Riot! get the better of him.

Moore: Good, because the thought of Disco Ninja not dancing is just too hard to bear.

Mark: I agree. Besides, tonight he gets the opportunity at revenge against that masked competitor who cost him his match against Robin Brooks.

Susie: SEE, everyone else is wearing masks, why you let me put on my Chewbacca mask, why!?!

Disco Ninja is still cutting loose in the ring until the house lights fade, leaving everything in darkness. A single spotlight shines through the shadows and locks on the Masked Vigilante as he saunters to the stage. His body is decked out head to toe in black, his face obscured by the same obsidian clothe. As he makes his way down the ramp there is no music or video package reminding the crowd of just who he is, especially considering just how much of a mystery the masked figure truly is.

Mark: This Masked Vigilante interjected himself in last week’s bout between Brooks and Disco Ninja, where he made an immediate impact. Will he ride the same wave of momentum into a victory here tonight?

Susie: The last thing I rode made my ass chap.

Comeau: Yes, but I’m sure your ride was happy.

The masked menace enters the ring and then without a moment’s hesitation, rushes across it at Disco Ninja, who oddly has his back turned towards his opposition. Disco Ninja is still unaware of his approaching opponent as he faces the corner, and doesn’t learn of this attempted sneak attack until it’s too late.

The Masked Vigilante jumps into the air and big splashes Disco Ninja’s back, knocking him into a corner. But as the house lights raise and he steps back, the masked man finds himself utterly perplexed. Instead of splashing Disco Ninja he’s assaulted a wooden post wearing a suit and a crude mask.

Comeau: That’s not Disco Ninja, the Masked Vigilante just attacked a DECOY!

Moore: COOL BEANS! I want a wooden version of myself too.

The Masked Vigilante is given no time to figure this out as he spins around and spots Disco Ninja flying from the top rope. That boogying ninja crashes on top of his opponent with a high flying crossbody to an explosion of cheers from the crowd.

Mark: This was a set-up!

Referee Princeton quickly removes the decoy from the ring while Disco Ninja rolls across the ring and his adversary tries desperately to get up. He’s only upright for a moment before Disco Ninja steps in, delivers a jab to his jaw then does the lawnmower dance with his arms before making the Travolta finger point to the heavens. He proceeds this fancy arm gesturing with a jab to the Vigilante’s face before repeating the dance steps and connecting with one more knock out blow.

The Masked Vigilante crumbles to the canvas while Disco Ninja sits up and makes good on the promise reported on the IWC website. He grabs the bottom of his rival’s mask and tries desperately to rip it off and reveal his identity.

Comeau: Disco Ninja is trying to unmask the Vigilante.

Susie: I bet its that no good Cartel Title belt in disguise.

The Vigilante’s exposed chin pops out from beneath the mask as his rival continues to rip at the fabric. His opponent grabs the bottom of the mask though, trying to keep his face from being revealed. “Outsider” cuts into the chaos as Pat Evans emerges to the stage. The ill tempered Evans rushes towards the ring, wasting literally no time whatsoever.

Mark: Here’s the third competitor in this four corner survival, which has gotten off to an insane start thus far.

Moore: I hope this turns out like the Ladder Invitational Battle Royal, I’d love to see SPIDER sleeping under the ring again.

The fans barely even have time to voice their outrage at Evans before he slips into the ring and rushes at a distracted Disco Ninja. That crafty Ninja turns away from the Vigilante just long enough to be taken down with a running STO. Disco Ninja is driven violently into the canvas while Evans kneels beside him, mumbling obscenities under his breathe.

He quickly stands and rushes into the ropes in front of the Vigilante, who is still seated on the canvas trying to fix his mask. He has no idea that Pat has bounced from the cables and is charging in with a brutal running knee to his face.

The knee clobbers the Vigilante to his forehead and knocks him to his back while Evans stands over both his masked opponents. Evans wears a mask himself, albeit a metaphorical one that depicts all of his rage directed at his unusual opponents.

He’s already had enough as he swipes his hands through the air and motions for the Time to Go to Sleep at a struggling Disco Ninja. The Ninja is crawling across the canvas when Evans steps over his back and tries to lock both of his arms in position for the hold.

Evans: I am sick and tired of you freaks ruining MY show…..

He is unable to finish his sentence before Black Widow by Children blasts the P.A. System. Dark and red lights flash all over the arena. Syck-o is in a straight jacket showing no emotion. He is lead out by two guards in uniform who walk him to the ring. As soon as he gets into the ring the guards un-tie his straight jacket. Syck-o is wearing only black tights and boots.

Comeau: Who or WHAT is that suppose to be?

Susie: You’re asking me, sweety? All I want to know is where he gets that comfortable looking jacket.

Mark: This must be the debuting Syck-O we heard so much about.

Evans looks utterly vexed by this as the released sociopath hops to the apron and takes the top rope. Pat abandons his attempt at the Time to Go to Sleep in favor of charging at Syck-O who pulls himself over the cables into a flying shoulder block. He nails Evans to the sternum with the blow, knocking him down hard to the canvas.

At this exact same moment the Masked Vigilante and Disco Ninja have gotten to their feet and are exchanging right hands to one another’s jaws. They attempt to inflict as much damage as possible and are completely unaware of the inbound Syck-O before he levels them both with stereo lariats.

Mark: This oddity of a man impressing me thus far.

The Masked Vigilante rolls across the canvas and struggles to reach his feet before Syck-O places him in a side headlock. He maintains this hold while waiting for Disco Ninja to stand up. Just as Disco gets his feet beneath him, Syck-O barrels across the ring and drives the top of the Vigilante’s head right into his ribcage, employing him as a battering ram.

The collision sends Disco Ninja staggering backwards and spilling through the ropes to the outside of the ring. The impact has also knocked the Vigilante backwards, his head freed from the side headlock as he steps behind Syck-O and quickly takes him by the arms.

Syck-O is unable to stop from being turned around into position for the unprettier and the recovering Evans makes no attempt to break it up. That’s when Syck-O surprisingly powers out, wedges his hands to the Masked Vigilante’s back and shoves him forward at the rising Evans.

The Vigilante suddenly jumps into the air, wraps his legs around Evans’ neck and flips him over into a head scissors take-down. The crowd has a mixed reaction at this point while the masked crusader rises to his feet just in time to spot Syck-O charging in for a lariat.

He ducks the inbound arm though, and then twists around to face the lunatic’s back, taking him around the neck and dropping him into a backbreaker from the reverse DDT position. However, he keeps holding onto the neck with the reverse chancery and bridges Syck-O right back up to a standing base only to spin him around, lock in the front chancery and drop back into a thunderous DDT.

The top of Syck-O’s head slams into the canvas before he flips over onto his seat, wearing a smile on his face.

Comeau: Strange, it’s almost like this Syck-O guy finds pain to be fun.

Moore: So do I, as long as there’s a safe word involved.

The masked figure rises and turns to spot Disco Ninja climbing up onto the apron. He rushes at his adversary only to have Disco bend down and drive his shoulder through the ropes into the ribs of his inbound opposition. The Masked Vigilante is doubled over as the Ninja grabs the top rope and pulls himself over into a sunset flip.

The Vigilante is rolled back into the pin while the crowd screaming loudly, realizing that Disco is moments from prevailing in this four corner survival.

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Evans flips forward over top of the Vigilante and crashes upside down back first into the Ninja’s sternum, using a rolling senton to break up the pin.

Pat ends up spread back first across the Disco Ninja’s sternums while pulling up on the legs with a jackknife cover.

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Before the third slap of the canvas can be made Syck-O steps in, grabs Evans by the ankle and rolls him backwards off of the cover. Pat ends up on his feet only to be placed in a front chancery and for his leg to be hooked.

Syck-O hoists him over into a release fisherman suplex that sends him crashing right on top of Disco Ninja’s sternum. Both of his opponents writhe in pain as a result of this heinous impact while Syck-O tries to stand up laughing. That’s before the Vigilante steps in and takes him around the cranium, trying to pull him up to his feet. Instead of getting him to a standing base, the Masked man eats a vicious uppercut to the jaw from his cackling opponent.

The Masked Vigilante staggers into the ropes, bounces off and comes stumbling back into a running reverse elbow from Syck-O. This deranged competitor places his hands to his knees and stoops towards the laid out Vigilante, unleashing a blood curdling roar that dissipates into a maniacal laugh.

Comeau: I guess he loves taking it just as much as he loves giving it.

Moore: Something else the two of us have in common.

Syck-O rushes backwards into the ropes, bounces off and flies forward into a diving headbunt. Unfortunately his opponent rolls out of the way, causing Syck-O’s skull to crash hard against the canvas. The masked man rolled out of the way in the nick of time, standing up in a relief before rushing at his rising opposition and catching him with a swinging neckbreaker.

The back of Syck-O’s head hits the ring hard, causing him to laugh all the more as he rolls towards the ropes. The moment that his opponent drops to the outside mats the Vigilante stands up and begins to mock Disco Ninja by employing the Blue Meanie dance.

He turns in a circle shaking his rump before eventually facing the dancing star who corkscrews through the air and nails the Vigilante with a shoulder block. The Disco Ball of DOOM connects with enough force to pick the masked menace off of his feet and send him flying backwards across the ring.

The Disco Ninja then hops to his feet and busts out the authentic dance routine. He does the Hustle for only a moment before stepping back towards the now seated Vigilante and again grabbing at his mask. Both Disco Ninja and his opponent desperately tug at the mask, one trying to remove it and the other attempting to keep it on.

The fans are going nuts as more and more of the Masked Vigilante’s face is revealed, but just before his identity can be exposed, Evans steps behind that Disco Ninja and tries to lock him in the Time to Go to Sleep.

Disco Ninja is dragged backwards and flung in all directions as he tries to block the submission with all he’s worth. Evans is seemingly moments from establishing the hold when Disco Ninja drops to his knees and counters into a modified arm drag.

Pat is flipped over Disco Ninja’s back and sent rolling forward across the canvas to his feet. He stands up and rushes back at Disco who lunges into the air connecting with a spinning heel kick. The blow connects with enough force to disorientate Evans and send him turning towards the Vigilante who jumps into the air, catches Pat around the neck and connects with a modified downward spiral.

Evans crashes HARD against the canvas then rolls across it into a corner, which he sluggishly begins to pull himself up into. Disco Ninja and the Masked Vigilante rise to their feet simultaneously and then charge at one another, again exchanging blows.

Syck-O slowly pulls himself up onto the apron, trying to interject in this brawl before the Vigilante and the Ninja briefly take their attention off of one another and hit simultaneous jabs to the psychopath’s forehead. Syck-O crashes right back down to the outside mats as Disco Ninja turns into a boot to the ribs and then is grabbed by the wrist.

The Vigilante tries to whip his rival into a struggling Evans in the corner. Disco reverses the whip though, instead sending his masked opposition barreling towards Pat. The Masked Vigilante thinks quickly and jumps high into the air, landing seat first across Evans’ sternum in the corner.

He now begins to deliver right hands down into Pat’s face as he continues to sit on top of his chest and shoulders. He only nails three right hands before Pat reaches up, takes him around the waist, charges him out of the corner and throws the Vigilante into the Disco Ninja with a powerbomb.

Comeau: OHHH! A BRUTAL counter from Evans, powerbombing the Vigilante into the Ninja.

The excitement level of the crowd is at a high point as Evans stands over both masked opponents, his eyes twisting back and forth between them. It’s almost as if he’s trying to decide which opponent to pin or tap. Finally he moves towards the Masked Vigilante, taking him by the ankle and lifting it into the air.

The Vigilante roars in pain as the ankle is applied, ripping and tearing his leg apart. He puts his hands on the top of his head, trying his best to fight through this excruciating pain while the crowd screams accordingly.

Mark: Evans on the verge of picking up the win in this frantic opening four way.

Moore: Where do you pick up victories? Are they like in a daycare.

Comeau: This whole taking me literally thing is really getting tired.

Somehow the Vigilante is able to roll to his back, wedging his feet to Evans’ sternum and kicking him backwards off of the ankle lock. He staggers right into the waiting arms of Syck-O who had just re-entered the ring. He takes Evans around the neck and snaps back into a bridging German suplex for the pin.

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The Disco Ninja steps in and delivers a kick to the back of one of Syck-O’s knees, knocking his legs out from under him and breaking up the pinfall. Evans rolls away while Disco Ninja turns his back on the laid out Syck-O and flips over into almost a standing twisting phoenix splash.

He crashes down right on top of Syck-O and then hooks his legs for the three count.

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Before he can fully obtain the pinfall the Vigilante steps in, stoops down, hooks both of Disco’s arms and dead lifts him off of the pin into a twisting Angel’s Wings face-plant. Disco Ninja crashes violently face first into the ring then rolls to his back, sprawled lifelessly across the canvas.

The Masked Assailant quickly rises to his feet and turns to take out the rest of his opposition when Evans charges up behind him, hooks one of his arms and hoists him into the Spinal Tap. The Vigilante’s back shatters across Pat’s raised knee before he crumbles to the canvas.

Evans falls to his knees beside him, rolls him to his back and drops into the lateral press.

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The Masked Vigilante kicks out to a rousing reaction from the fans who are swept up into the madness of this chaotic encounter.

Comeau: This action fast paced and brutal between these four combatants.

Moore: It’s faster than my date’s hands.

The news that he didn’t pick up the win slightly distresses Evans who rises to his feet and turns towards the laughing Syck-O, who is already up to a knee. Pat steps in blasting him across the jaw, then does so again. These shots connect with tooth rattling impact but Syck-O refuses to go down.

Evans takes him across the chest and stands him up before pulling him ribs first into a knee lift. The blow doubles Syck-O over and puts him in perfect position for Evans to hoist him up into a powerbomb position. Syck-O slips over Pat’s shoulders as he catches him by the back of the biceps, setting up for his version of the crucifix powerbomb.

He rushes forward to deliver the move when Syck-O slips free, landing on his feet behind Evans who spins around right into a RKO. Pat bounces off of the canvas skull first then rolls to his spine where he lays in a motionless heap. Syck-O remains seated on the canvas catching his breathe when Disco Ninja springs to the top rope in front of him from the apron, then flies across the ring into a front dropkick to his sternum. Both Disco Ninja and Syck-O end up laid out side by side, no one moving at this point.

Comeau: Bodies strewn everywhere at this point, all four men unconscious after a thrilling series of moves. The first one up may very well be the person who scores the win.

Moore: All they have to do to win is stand? Is this like musical chairs? That game can get equally as chaotic. Last time I played it I spent three years in prison for assault.

Mark: Understandable.

Susie: You steal my chair you get cut.

The Manhattan Center fans are applauding all the fast paced action in this four corner survival, especially as it picks up right where it started, with the Masked Vigilante and Disco Ninja standing up in opposition to one another. The Vigilante employs the cables to stand up when Disco rushes in and delivers a lariat to his throat, carrying both men over the ropes.

Disco Ninja lands on his rump across the outside mats while the Vigilante falls to his feet, but his momentum carries him back first into the barrier. He crashes off of it and tumbles to the mats reaching for his spine before that wildly Ninja steps in grabbing him by the black mask. Once again he’s trying to rip it off only to have the Vigilante pull away and stagger around the ring towards the ramp.

Disco Ninja is in hot pursuit, blasting the Masked Vigilante repeatedly to his upper back as he staggers around the ramp. Inside of the squared circle Syck-O is starting to recover with a smile on his deranged features. At the same time Evans is dragging himself up with the use of the turnbuckle.

He just reaches his feet when Syck-O comes charging in and jumping into the air for a flying knee strike. Pat steps out of the way though, causing Syck-O to connect knee first to the turnbuckle. He bounces off and drops to his feet, gripping at his knee as he staggers back into the waiting arms of Evans.

Pat hoists him into the air for the Spinal Tap when Syck-O shockingly squirms free, twisting around in mid-air and landing on his feet behind Evans. He now lunges into the air, grabbing at the back of Pat’s neck for a jumping reverse neckbreaker.

However, Pat reaches out and grabs the top rope, causing Syck-O to crash down back first into the canvas, unable to pull him down into the reverse neckbreaker. Evans steps forward, jumps to the middle rope and springs off while still holding the top rope. He stretches his body and comes crashing down on top of the prone Syck-O, quickly hooking his leg.

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Syck-O gets his shoulder up, laughing all the while.

The battle outside of the ring is getting just as heated. Off to the side of the stage the Masked Vigilante now finds himself leaning back first against a large crate while the Disco Ninja unloads with right hands to his forehead.

Mark: Disco Ninja is making the most of this opportunity even if it costs him the match. All he wants is revenge and to remove that mask.

Moore: Just like in Highlander there can be only one masked wrestler.

Disco is now chopping the sternum of his nemesis before finally taking him by the mask. He begins to lift up on it, once again removing the fabric from his face. The mask has pulled enough to reveal half of the Vigilante’s face, dangerously close to having his identity revealed.

That’s when he reaches out and digs his fingers into Disco Ninja’s eyes, raking them violently. Disco turns away from his opponent, grabbing at his damaged retinas when the Vigilante steps up behind him and delivers a huge kick right between the uprights.

The boot hits Disco in his private area, bringing him to his knees. The Vigilante now limps around the stage towards the backstage area, trying to escape his opposition.

Comeau: The Masked Vigilante headed for the hills.

Moore: Where are these hills, and how come I don’t see them? There aren’t murderous, radioactively mutated inbreds living in these hills are there?

Mark: Why must you base all your worldly knowledge on films?

Susie: What? Do you expect me to pick up a textbook? Yucky.

Inside of the ring Evans has grabbed a bundle of Syck-O’s hair and is leading him up to his feet. He then delivers a straight headbunt to Syck-O’s skull, knocking the laughing competitor backwards as he falls against the ropes. The stunned newcomer is trying to recover before Evans steps in and chops him hard across the sternum then takes hold of his wrist.

He drags Syck-O out of the corner and under his arm, setting up for a Canadian backbreaker. Somehow Syck-O flips up and over his shoulder though, landing right on his feet behind Evans who spins around looking to deliver a high impact boot.

Syck-O baseball slides under the inbound boot then stands up behind Evans and delivers a dropkick to his upper back. The collision sends Evans staggering forward into the corner, crashing against it sternum first. His malicious, crazed opponent rushes in and lunges high into the air, landing right on top of Evans’ shoulders.

The crowd squeals as Syck-O tries to go for a reverse hurricarana to spike Pat right on top of his head. To his dismay however, Evans has reached out, grabbing the top rope, keeping from being pulled down into the maneuver. Syck-O continues to straddle Pat’s shoulders as he now begins to deliver right hands down into the top of his head.

Comeau: Both men in precarious positions here, if Syck-O nails that reverse hurricarana it’s all over.

Syck-O now bends down and begins to bite the top of Pat’s head, finally forcing him to release the top rope. He staggers backwards holding Syck-O on top of his shoulders in an electric chair drop position, but it’s his opponent who is on the verge of uncoiling his wrath.

Just as Syck-O prepares to spike Evans on top of his head, both men find themselves stunned by the crafty Disco Ninja.

The Ninja springs to the top rope and comes flying off, crashing into Syck-O with a crossbody. Evans falls back into the electric chair drop as Disco Ninja lands on top of the newcomer with a lateral press. The fans are going nuts as the official makes the count.

Mark: Disco Ninja out of nowhere with the crossbody on the elevated Syck-O, has he snuck in the backdoor with a victory!?!

The ref’s hand slaps the canvas to a roar of approval.

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The crowd metaphorically explodes at the sight of Disco Ninja’s shocking victory. Evans sits up and glances over his shoulder in shock over this situation. His eyes brim with rage while Disco Ninja sluggishly rises to his feet, commencing with some fancy footwork. Even some of the fans are disco dancing in conjunction with the celebrating Ninja.

Moore: Disco Ninja wins. Now I have an excuse to dance.

Mark: While I’m sure that your use to dancing on tables, would you please refrain from doing so tonight?

Disco Ninja is still living it up despite the amount of pain his body is in. He slips to the outside of the ring and boogies his way up the ramp towards the backstage area, while Evans rolls out behind him. Pat leans on the apron with batting eyes, trying to make sense out of what just transpired.

Mark: What a way to kick off Destiny tonight, Disco Ninja prevailing in a frantic four way encounter.


PROMISES


Evans stumbles around the ringside area, recovering from this grueling encounter while his thoughts rest heavily upon him. The former Submission Champion slips his palms through his hair, looking as if something deep inside of him has snapped. The last thin string clinging to his sanity has been cut.

Comeau: Uh oh, I don’t like that look in Evans’ eyes.

Moore: He’s about to go OJ Simpson up in here. And I’m a blond too, SHIT!

Without a second’s inhibition Evans storms towards the steel steps, completely overwhelmed by a rare display of emotion. He kicks the top half of the stairs, knocking them away and leaving them open to be hoisted into the air, pitched across the mats and slammed into the steel post.

The fans are jumping all over his reaction but fall quiet as the delusional Evans marches past them. With a strange, zombie like focus Evans descends upon Mark Comeau who slowly looks up from his chair, not knowing quite how to react.

Moore: I think you have a secret admirer Comeau.

Mark: Hey, don’t look at me, I didn’t pin Syck-O, Evans.

Pat suddenly lunges across the announce table and grabs Mark by his tie, trying to strangle him with it. This completely unprovoked attack is made all the more chaotic by Evans incoherent shouting.

Pat: I deserve better than THIS! You know it, Comeau, you KNOW IT! I’m suppose to be World Heavyweight Champion! Me, ME!!

For once Comeau doesn’t make a move to defend himself, instead he holds up his palms and tries to calm Evans down.

Mark: I never said you weren’t talented…

Evans: Shut those lying lips Comeau! It’s because of you people that I’ve been looked over time and time again. I shouldn’t be subjected to this madness, I WANT what I’m owed. By the end of the night it’ll be my destiny that’s fulfilled, as Douglas rewards me for services rendered!

A rafter shaking roar emits from the crowd at the sight of tonight’s challenger for the World Title, Nathan Creed. He comes barreling down the ramp in his street clothing and fists clinched, ready to unleash his wrath.

Moore: Another admirer. Your date books going to be full Mark.

Comeau: I’d suggest you unhand me Evans, and you might want to turn around while your at it.

Pat glances over his shoulder in time to spot an equally unstable force barreling towards him. Out of the interest of self preservation Pat releases Mark’s tie, rushes around the announce table, jumps the barricade and continues into the crowd. Nathan is as blood thirsty as a pack of sharks as he lunges over the barrier and continues after one of the men who injured Krissie McMorris on the last week.

Images of her arm being mangled fuels Creed onward, traversing through the screaming audience and hot on Pat’s heels.

The fans root Creed on, imploring him to get his hands on Evans and hoping he obtains his revenge.

Mark: Nathan Creed out to decimate every man responsible for that grizzly attack on McMorris, starting with Evans here tonight. Thank God he stepped in, otherwise I would have been forced to defend myself.

Moore: I was going to bust out my rape whistle.

Comeau: Creed showing that he has two goals tonight, not only walking away as World Heavyweight Champion, but also annihilating the entire Conspiracy. Good luck on achieving both goals Creed! What a chaotic start we’ve gotten off to here on pay-per-view.


DESPERATE TIMES


A long breath is exhaled from one Aurora Rose as she slouches in her chair, deep in contemplation. She rubs her palms together nervously; squeezing her eyes closed hoping to wake from this impending nightmare. It’s clear that she’s not too excited by the prospect of facing a demented sociopath in Psycho.

David Freak: We’ve got to accept it already.

The camera pulls back a little as Aurora’s husband leans forward into the frame. He’s seated on an opposing chair in the lockeroom, choosing his words wisely for a change.

Freak: He hasn’t returned our calls, he won’t even respond to my e-mails or my TEXT MESSAGES. What kind of depraved son of a bitch doesn’t even reply to text messages?

Aurora is unsure how to even respond to such a question, so she employs the most diplomatic response possible by shrugging her shoulders.

David: Since he refuses to hear us out we’ve got no other choice. We have to face him right here tonight.

A long sigh emanates from Rose, who slips her hands through her hair, almost ripping chunks of it from her scalp.

Aurora: How did we get ourselves into this? All we were trying to do is help.

David reassuringly pats her on the shoulder, his touch soothing for a change.

Freak: Don’t be a Negative Ninny, we knew getting into this that there might be complications. We just have to deal with them. Look at Jerry Springer, he brings people on his show all the time trying to help them out, and it always back fires. But does he give up? No, no, he doesn’t. He keeps on going, he keeps on pushing onward, he wakes up every morning, polishes those glasses, perms his hair and goes right back to the studio. If Jerry Springer can do it, so can we.

The speech doesn’t move or motivate Aurora even in the slightest.

Rose: Facing Psycho is one thing, but facing an ANGRY Psycho is entirely different. Besides, if we fight him that’s just giving into what the Conspiracy wants. If you think about it, Wheeler manipulated us into this situation, so if we fight Psycho, then Jason’s the one who wins.

David: Listen, listen, listen, there’s no point to any of this, we don’t have the liberty of second guessing ourselves.

Although she doesn’t like it, Aurora actually has to agree with her husband for once.

Freak: This is going down tonight rather he want it to or not.

Aurora: We could just leave the building now, walk away before we actually have to face him.

David: Then go through the rest of our lives looking over our shoulders? The last thing I want is to come out of a shower and have that big frightening heap leering at me with some sadistic weapon in hand. You never want to see ANYTHING sharp while you’re naked. We’ve got to go through with this, there’s no other option. If we don’t put Psycho in our past he’s going to keep coming after us until he’s satisfied.

The magnitude of this match is finally dawning on the couple, Aurora shifting uneasily in her chair.

Freak: So we go to the ring and we either convince Psycho that what happened to Riggs wasn’t our fault, or we play his games.

A 2x4 embedded with glass and wrapped in razor wire is slid out from under David’s chair and ominously raised into the air. The very object that was given to them by Psycho on the last Riot! sends a clear message that chaos will ensue in the impending handicap bout. The tiny shards reflect Aurora’s repulsed features and the sharp blades glisten in Freak’s eyes.


JASON WHEELER © VS. PORNO LAD



“Original Prankster” hits the speakers and rallies some of the fans to their feet. Their eyes bask in the glory of Porno Lad who struts to the stage. A comically oversized bandage is wrapped around his head thanks to the attack from Wheeler two weeks ago. Despite his injuries he’s still able to waltz arrogantly down the ramp with his associate BFG following close behind. What makes BFG’s presence all the more interesting is the ladder that is wrapped around his arm. He lugs it towards the ring as Porno Lad winks at a few female fans and scales the steps.

Comeau: Porno Lad scheduled to compete for the N.H.B Championship, it’s good to see that the injury he sustained at Wheeler’s hands hasn’t sidelined him. But if things already weren’t bizarre enough tonight, now Ladder is being carried to ringside.

Moore: Dammit, this has to happen on the one day I don’t comb my hair.

There’s a certain suave thrust to Porno Lad’s hips as he moves to the center of the ring revealing a microphone in his hand. He waits to speak until Ladder has been set up beside him.

Mark: Ladies and gentlemen, this whole issue stems from Jason Wheeler’s betrayal when he joined Christian Savior and left Riggs a crippled mess. That event set in motion several other events that brought us to this twisted situation.

Susie: It’s as twisted as my nipples.

Porno Lad now puts his elbow on one of Ladder’s rungs, leaning jaw first against his palm. He bats his eyes mockingly while raising the microphone to his lips.

Porno Lad: Jason Wheeler! It’s the name that’s been on the tip of everyone’s tongues for weeks now. (Sarcastically) Ewww, Wheeler set in motion some convoluted and easily foreseeable swerve, let’s talk about him endlessly and make it sound super dramatic until people start vomiting or crapping themselves from the nausea.

All Porno Lad can do is sigh over this entire sordid affair.

Porno Lad: Frankly, I’m not the only one sick and tired of being reminded of Wheeler’s baffling stupidity. If I want to see idiocy, I’ll watch a Hurse promo. After all, I already have a constant reminder of Jason’s down syndrome stitched into my forehead.

The bandage on his cranium is tapped repeatedly. The moment his finger touches the wound Porno Lad’s knees quake and he becomes light headed. Thankfully BFG is there to catch him, supporting his friend.

Porno Lad: I want it all to be over, I just want to put Wheeler in my past and sever all ties with him right here TONIGHT.

The crowd applauds this declaration.

Porno Lad: And the best way to do that is to force him to face the same humiliation he made me endure. Don’t worry; it has nothing to do with hot leather, whips, or Michael Jackson music. I’m talking about how he led me along, how he lied in my face. It shattered my feelings worse than any death on any soap opera. So I’m going to wound him just as deeply on an emotional, and PHYSICAL level.

BFG rubs his partner’s shoulders, loosening him up as he turns towards the stage, trying to muster the most menacing expression possible.

Porno Lad: Jason, you started all this with some overblown, ridiculous swerve, so I’m about to hit YOU with a bombshell. That’s step one of this balanced reciprocity of punishment. Are you ready to have your mind BLOWN Wheeler? Are you ready to shit yourself with shock? Well I hope you have some baby wipes ready, cause your gonna need them.

Susie: Stop teasing us already! He’s acting just like my mother when she use to dangle celery sticks over my head to make me do jumping jacks.

Comeau: I’m thinking this twist has something to do with Ladder, but that’s just a wild guess.

The devious prankster reassuringly pats the rungs of Ladder and nods to the crowd.

Porno Lad: That’s right, put your seats in their full upright positions and slip on the pampers BABY! You see Wheeler, like I said, I’m not the only one appalled by your idiocy, I’m not the only one here to make a stand. Ladder has just as big of a problem with you as I do. So unlike you Jason, I graciously agreed to hand over just a smidgen of my spotlight and throw caution to the wind.

Moore: I’m liking where this is going.

Porno Lad: So tonight, what do you say we make this a tad more risky? I say Ladder and I should BOTH challenge for the N.H.B Title in a triple threat match!

The crowd erupts into cheers over this stunning revelation. But Porno Lad is calling for them all to shut up, clearly not finished with his challenge.

Porno Lad: And better yet, how about we hang the N.H.B gold above the ring and make this a LADDER MATCH!

If the fans weren’t going nuts before now they’re absolutely bonkers.

Porno Lad: Triple threat ladder match for the N.H.B Championship, LET’S GET IT ON!

Moore: I think I should have put on the pampers like he suggested.

Comeau: Porno Lad demanding Wheeler put the belt on the line in a three way ladder match.

Susie: This gives Ladder a distinctive advantage to win the belt.

Porno Lad paces while BFG watches on stoically.

Porno Lad: So what do you say Catwoman? Are you gonna give me the chance to complete stage two of my intricate revenge plot, crippling you by taking away what you hold so dear?

The statement is cut short by the intrusive lyrics of “Open Your Heart.” The tune of the crowd is drastically altered as Jason Wheeler steps through the curtains with his Neverland/N.H.B title thrust over his shoulder and microphone in hand.

Comeau: Interesting, Wheeler actually coming up out here. I would of thought he’d have no part in this insanity.

Moore: He’d have to be stupid to face the combined effort of Porno Lad and Ladder, that’s like a modern day Super Powers.

Jason stares at his opposition through half closed eyes while unleashing a low humdrum sigh.

Wheeler: All you had to do was leave well enough alone, Porno Lad. Instead you just keep getting yourself in deeper and deeper.

Porno Lad: Did you expect anything less?

Jason: Of course I didn’t, after teaming with you a few weeks I picked up on just how stubborn you can be. But you should have learned what happens to my former tag team partners when they get in the way.

Jason starts towards the ring, fixing his championship over his shoulder.

Wheeler: Which is why I find it so funny that you just won’t STOP tempting fate and putting your career in jeopardy. Didn’t what happened to Riggs teach you anything? You should have gotten a hint when I bashed your skull in with this very title belt.

The N.H.B gold is raised into the air while Porno Lad sympathetically grabs at his head wound.

Jason: But instead of getting out of my way and becoming just a distant memory, you challenge me to some ludicrous, barbaric ladder match? How many meds are you on?

Porno Lad begins to count them off on his fingers.

Wheeler: Alright, fine.

He shrugs and tilts his head.

Jason: If you really want to be embarrassed for the second week in a row, and have your career shortened if not ended at the same time, then who am I to abject? If this is the only way to finally put you in the past then so be it. But don’t be surprised if by the end of the night, you end up in the same condition I left my last tag team partner in.

Jason sinisterly approaches the ring as official Fitzpatrick rushes down the ramp behind him.

Comeau: It looks like it’s official, triple threat ladder match for the N.H.B Championship right here and right now!

Moore: Go Ladder, go!

Jason momentarily distracts himself removing his belt and tossing it to Fitzpatrick, he has no idea that inside of the ring BFG has hoisted Porno Lad up into a gorilla press. The crowd is erupting as BFG tosses Porno Lad over the top rope with a military press and sends him crashing down right on top of the Black Cat.

Comeau: OHHH, what a way to get this match underway.

Moore: BFG, BFG! Come over here and throw me NEXT!

Porno Lad rolls across the mats gripping at his ribs while the official calls for the bell, getting this match underway. BFG clears out of the ring as Porno Lad stumbles to his feet, takes Jason by the hair and drags him into a knee to the ribs. He then proceeds to chop Wheeler across his chest, which causes just as much pain in his hand as it does to the Champion’s sternum.

Wheeler falls back first against the apron as Porno Lad kicks him over and over again to the ribs. A stunned Black Cat is then rolled into the ring with Porno Lad hopping to the apron and walking across it. He climbs up the nearby turnbuckle while Wheeler is getting to his feet and the referee is placing the N.H.B Championship on the hook behind his back.

The title begins to be raised towards the rafters on the cable when Porno Lad takes flight, soaring straight towards Wheeler. Jason ducks down out of the way at the last second, leaving PL to instead grab the cable holding the title belt and hold on as he too is elevated into the air.

Moore: LOOK! Porno Lad is FLYING!

Mark: Actually he’s got that cable meant to support the N.H.B Title above the ring.

Porno Lad continues to wrap his legs and his arms around the cable, which is unable to ascend any further thanks to all the weight being placed on it. He now reaches down towards the championship, trying to rip it off the hook and win it already.

That’s when Wheeler steps up behind Porno Lad with Ladder in hand, throwing it straight into his rival’s lower back. The rungs bounce brutally from his bones and causes the prankster to let go of the cable, but only with his hands. He now finds himself hung upside down from the cable holding the N.H.B belt, the gold now hanging much like him directly behind his back.

He hangs down low enough to be in Wheeler’s reach, who quickly steps in and begins to deliver repeated right hands to his former partner’s face. He then rushes backwards into the ropes, bounces off, charges at Porno Lad and catches him around the neck.

The fans erupt as Porno Lad is pulled down off of the cable into a running diamond cutter. He is dragged all the way down to the center of the ring and slammed hard against the canvas while the crowd cannot help but to erupt over that unique maneuver.

Comeau: AAAH! A running cutter dragging Porno Lad off that cable and slamming him against the ring!

Moore: All thanks to Ladder, who must have been manipulated by Wheeler.

The fans are floored by what they just witnessed as the N.H.B Title once again begins to ascend towards the heavens now that its free of Porno Lad’s weight. Speaking of the Prankster, he remains spread across the mats, his eyes batting awkwardly as he tries to remain somewhat coherent.

He has no idea that Wheeler has slipped to the apron and is now scaling the top rope. He doesn’t realize this until it’s too late to stop Wheeler from flying through the air and nailing a big frog splash. All the air is taken out of Porno Lad as his rival rolls away from him, gripping at his own ribs.

The fans are unable to so much as catch their breath thanks to this fast paced, exciting action they’ve witnessed thus far. The Black Cat rolls to his knees and stares across the ring at Ladder, realizing that its essential to reach the belt. He stumbles towards Ladder, picks it up and sets it under the swaying belt, already beginning to climb its rungs.

Moore: What are you doing Ladder, stop it, STOP helping your enemy.

Mark: Wheeler making his way towards that N.H.B title, oh wait, sorry, the Neverland title as I’m contractually obligated to call it.

Wheeler climbs closer and closer to his title, unaware that Porno Lad somehow has mustered the strength to begin standing up. He reaches his feet and stumbles around throwing kicks and punches at figments of his imagination. Finally he falls back first against Wheeler’s lower spine.

An angered Jason begins to kick down at his opposition, a few stomps connecting to the back of his head. Another well timed boot almost meets Porno Lad’s cranium before he side steps it, catching hold of Jason’s ankle.

He then rushes forward and tugs the leg with enough strength to pull Wheeler almost off the top of the Ladder and send him tumbling to his feet right in front of him. Wheeler lands with all the grace of a cat until Porno Lad connects with a step up enzugari to the back of his head.

The stiff strike knocks Wheeler loopy and sends him spiraling back first into Ladder. He falls against its rungs which provide enough support to keep him upright. It’s at this point that Porno Lad rushes into the ropes in front of Wheeler then comes charging back at the Black Cat.

Jason somehow has the wherewithal to step forward and catch Porno Lad under the thighs though, throwing him over his head. To the delight of many in the Manhattan Center Porno Lad lands on Ladder, catching hold of one of its upper most rungs with his hands. He now frantically begins to climb up and towards the N.H.B Championship.

Comeau: An opportune landing for Porno Lad, that title is within his reach.

Moore: Ladder is such an enigma. Who’s it really helping in this match? Is it playing BOTH sides?

Porno Lad reaches out for the gold but his hand falls just short of it. A stunned Wheeler turns around and begins to step up Ladder behind his distracted opponent. He now blasts the prankster to his kidneys and then jumps into the air, twisting around upside down in the process and catching Porno Lad around the waist. He drags the Challenger off of Ladder into a sunset flip powerbomb.

Mark: And that landing wasn’t as fortuitist.

The mischievous Porno Lad writhes around on the canvas a like taken out of water. His opponent sits back first against Ladder’s many rungs, trying to catch his breathe. Outside of the ring BFG is slapping the aprons and trying to rally the crowd behind Porno Lad.

Their pleas fall on deaf ears especially as Wheeler stands up, grabs hold of Porno Lad’s legs and then drops back, catapulting his opponent face first into Ladder’s rungs. He bounces off and turns away from Ladder, stumbling forward incoherently.

Jason then steps up behind him and wedges his shoulder to his opponent’s spine, lifting him up into a back drop suplex position. That’s when he turns around and rushes Porno Lad at Ladder once again, slipping one of his legs through a rung and driving him crotch first into a steel strut.

Porno Lad cries out in pain as he drops back and finds himself in a familiar position, hung upside down in the tree of woe with his legs wrapped around one of Ladder’s supports.

Comeau: Porno Lad hanging in another precarious position.

Moore: No Ladder, no! Why did you have to give him that low blow? It was completely uncalled for.

The Challenger hangs down just low enough for Wheeler to be able to dropkick him to the prone face, which is exactly what he has planned. Jason builds momentum by bouncing from the cables then diving towards Porno’s face feet first with a front dropkick. Shockingly Porno Lad sits up though, moving his head out of the way and causing Wheeler to slide across his back, crotch first right into Ladder’s leg.

Jason sits up crying out in pain, perhaps having forgotten to invest in a protective cup. He reaches for his genitalia with both hands and sluggishly begins to pull himself up with the assistance of Ladder’s rungs. All the while Porno Lad is freeing his legs and turning around, balancing himself out on Ladder.

Just as Wheeler stands up he finds himself in a bad position, because Porno reaches down, grabs him around the neck and jumps off of the rungs. He twists around and drags Jason down skull first into the ring via a thunderous tornado DDT. Wheeler crashes across the top of his skull and then flips over onto his seat, looking disorientated.

Comeau: Porno Lad getting himself back into this match with a big time DDT off of Ladder!

The Prankster sluggishly starts to ascend to his feet and approach Ladder, scooping it up into his arms while shouting at it as well.

Porno: We had a plan you selfish son of a bitch! Don’t be conspiring with the enemy.

Ladder is dragged towards a nearby corner and rested diagonally against it. Once Porno Lad has assured himself that its properly in place he charges at a recovering Wheeler, who has already gotten to his feet and places him in the dreaded side headlock.

He now rushes forward pulling Wheeler along beside him and then dives feet first through the top and middle cable, all the while driving Jason like a battering ram head first into the steel rungs of Ladder. Wheeler’s skull crashes off of the steel and sends him tumbling back first into a set of ropes, grabbing the top one to keep from going down.

The fans are absolutely erupting over that last move which has Jason in a near unconscious state. Porno Lad has ended up on the apron after delivering the move, resting on his knees as he tries his best to recover from the physical brutality he’s endured thus far in this N.H.B Title bout.

An unfamiliar sound bombards his ears as many of the fans actually cheer him on. Porno pays little attention to these screams, beginning to grab the top rope and preparing for some type of mind blowing move involving the use of many unnecessary flips.

He holds the top cable and now begins to pull himself over. He is full airborne before Wheeler jumps into the air grabbing the uppermost rope and delivers a swift shin kick to his forehead. The blow knocks Porno Lad off of the ropes and sends him tumbling to the outside mats where he crashes hard across his back.

A sign exhales from Porno Lad’s lungs as he grips at his kidneys and feebly tries to stand up. After much struggle he finally gets his legs beneath him, unaware that Wheeler is stepping up the diagonally placed Ladder and then back flipping off the top of it into a twisting moonsault.

He comes crashing down right on top of Porno Lad, taking both men to the mats amongst a roar of screams from the crowd.

Comeau: GOOD GOD! What a dive from Wheeler taking out both himself and Porno Lad!

Moore: And yet Ladder did nothing to stop this. I tell ya, I’m starting to loose respect for the former Cartel Champion.

Jason grips painfully at his ribs while Porno Lad just lays on the canvas motionless. The only people standing are the fans who have cut loose with a well deserved “IWC” chant. Wheeler finds himself repulsed by their reaction as he struggles to his feet and stumbles back towards the ring.

There seems to be nothing left of Porno Lad to stop his opponent as he slips through the ropes and approaches Ladder. It takes all his strength to grab Ladder and drag it towards the center of the ring. All the while BFG is scooping Porno Lad up off of the canvas and onto his shoulder.

The huge figure then rolls his friend into the ring under the cables. Porno Lad ends up spread lifelessly across his back, prone for Wheeler who steps in and puts the boots to him for good measure. Once the Challenger has stopped thrashing Jason returns to Ladder and begins to erect it under the title belt once again.

He slaps Ladder’s rungs and starts to scale them, going for his belt now that he’s assured his opponent has been properly dealt with. Appearances can be quite deceiving though, because Porno Lad is already dragging his aching body up the ropes, actually starting to get his feet beneath him.

Wheeler is almost at the top of Ladder before he turns and spots the recovering Prankster. The fact that Porno Lad is able to walk offends Wheeler greatly, prompting him to turn his side to Ladder then dive off with an extension of his legs. He’s going for the hurricarana only to be caught by Porno Lad and dropped into a sit-out powerbomb!

Mark: UNBELIEVABLE counter by Porno Lad.

Moore: PRINCE ALBERT IN A CAN!

A “holy shit” chant has commenced from the crowd at the sight of what they just witnessed as both Champion and Challenger lay strewn across the canvas. Their bodies are ravaged with far too much pain to continue this exciting confrontation, leaving Ladder alone under the title belt.

Susie: You’ve got it Ladder, this is your opportunity. Just reach up and grab the title!

Mark: If it were just a few inches taller.

The Manhattan Center is still buzzing at the sight of Wheeler and Porno Lad laid out side by side, borderline unconscious at this point. In a daze PL begins to show signs that he still has a pulse as he shouts for something from BFG. His giant man servant reaches under the ring and extracts two chairs, throwing them through the ropes to his colleague.

An exhausted Porno Lad snatches up the steel and places one on top of Jason’s sternum before sticking the other chair under his arm. He now steps up Ladder, reaching almost the highest rung and instead of going for the title he decides a HUGE spot is necessary. The crowd explodes as he takes flight and hits a big elbow drop with the chair stuck under his arm and driven into the chair planted across Jason’s chest.

Both men write in anguish as Porno Lad rolls across the canvas gripping at his swollen elbow and Wheeler wraps his arms around his chest in pain.

Comeau: Porno Lad busting out a death defying leap off of Ladder.

Moore: It’s a controlled frenzy!

Mark: Um, why the hell did you say that?

Susie: What? Michael Cole says it at least once every week.

The Champion and his Challenger are still aching from the sheer brutality of this contest, but Porno is the fresher of the two, meaning he’s already on his knees scooting towards Ladder. He grabs hold of the rungs and slowly drags himself upwards in the direction of the championship.

His eyes are focused completely on the N.H.B belt that sparkles in his eyes. A snide smirk forms across his face as he realizes his proximity to the belt. He reaches out agonizingly for the championship but his fingers just tap it. In anger he slaps the top of Ladder.

Porno Lad: Give me a boost damn you.

Ladder is surprisingly non-compliant, forcing Porno Lad to step up to a higher rung himself. Both hands reach up and wrap around the strap, mere moments from pulling it down and laying claim to the title. That’s when a steel chair cracks thunderously against Porno Lad’s lower back, creating such pain that the prankster is unable to so much as scream. Jason stumbles back and throws down the chair at this point, his legs barely able to maintain his weight.

His hands drop away from the gold while he sluggishly begins to turn around, holding the rungs of Ladder tightly at this point. As soon as he spins around he dives at Wheeler, who shockingly reaches up, places both palms to his stomach and twists him around into a sky high press.

Porno Lad is driven with enough force against the canvas to shake the whole ring and send the crowd into a frenzy.

Mark: Wheeler countered with a SKY HIGH PRESS!

Moore: Vintage Jason Wheeler.

Comeau: Stop idolizing Michael Cole already.

The crowd is absolutely stunned by the move they just witnessed that has left both Wheeler and Porno Lad spent on top of the canvas. All the fans can do is express their astonishment through a rousing series of “Holy Shit” chants. Jason begins to regain some of his senses, slowly rolling towards Ladder and grasping at the canvas.

Despite his exhaustion Jason moves inch by agonizing inch towards Ladder before finally reaching out and taking the rungs. His back may be killing him but the Champion nevertheless moves up his opponent’s rungs.

Comeau: Wheeler climbing Ladder, he is on the verge of retaining his championship.

Jason continues to climb with everything that he’s worth. It’s obvious that he’s banked everything on walking away with the belt tonight. He teems with pain but his mind won’t let his body give out. He finds himself just a few inches removed from the championship at this point.

All the while Porno Lad is incoherently crawling around the ring, eventually ending up in the ropes which he uses to pull himself to his feet. He has no idea where he is let alone that Jason is on the verge of retaining his belt. That’s when BFG reaches through the ropes from the outside of the ring, wedges his palms to Porno’s back and shoves him straight towards Ladder.

Porno Lad crashes against it and as a result Ladder is knocked over, sending Wheeler flying off the top and crashing throat first against the top rope. He bounces off and flies backwards while the crowd screams excitedly.

Comeau: Porno Lad shoving Wheeler off of Ladder right into those ropes!

Moore: Jamacan me crazy!

Mark: Okay, that one wasn’t even Cole.

A disorientated Porno Lad leans against the overturned Ladder, still having absolutely no idea what’s going on. Finally he grabs the struts and begins to pull Ladder up into a vertical position. With Wheeler laid out there is nothing between him and the title but air and opportunity.

Mark: This is the challenger’s opportunity….

Susie: Yeah, if he could just get Porno Lad out of the way.

Comeau: I wasn’t talking about Ladder, I was referring to Porno Lad.

The ailing Prankster sluggishly begins to ascend the rungs yet again, ascending towards the title. Unfortunately is opposition is recovering and recovering quickly at that. Wheeler is already on his knees, wavering back and forth with fluttering eyes and drool seeping from the corner of his mouth.

Even though he may have permanent brain injuries, Wheeler starts to crawl towards Ladder nevertheless. He falls into the opposite side of the inanimate challenger and drags himself up the rungs. The fans are slowly rising to their feet, wondering which combatant will reach the N.H.B Championship first, rather it will be the mischievous Porno Lad, or the cold hearted Wheeler.

They both move at the same speed, pushing through the blinding, crippling pain in their bodies as they near the title.

Comeau: Jason Wheeler and Porno Lad nearing that belt. But at this rate who is going to reach it first?

Moore: Come on Ladder, just hop and you’ll get the belt before either of them do.

Porno Lad reaches up but for the title but his hand falls just short. Wheeler then reaches for his championship but it swings away from his palm. He then turns his attention to Porno Lad, blasting him to the jaw before he can make another lunge at the belt.

The Challenger responds the best way he knows how, via an eye gouge. Unfortunately for him, Wheeler had the same plan, digging his fingers into Porno Lad’s pupils at the same time. With their free hands they reach up for the belt and wrap their palms around it.

To their dismay referee Fitzpatrick secured the gold to the hook a little too tightly, making it incredibly difficult for them to free it and pull it down. That’s when Ladder inexplicably falls over, leaving both Wheeler and Porno Lad dangling above the ring, both men holding onto the championship and the cable that supports it.

Mark: This is a very dangerous predicament. Both men hanging above the ring and fighting over that championship!

Moore: Maybe if they weren’t so anorexic they could have pulled the belt down already.

Both men proceed to kick at one another, trying to knock the other down, sending them into a frightful plunge. Neither man will release the belt or the cable though, realizing that it all boils down to this. That’s when a well timed knee to Porno Lad’s ribs almost sends him tumbling.

Just before his hands slip he lunges up the cable supporting himself, Wheeler, and the title. He actually climbs it like a rope in gym class before reaching out with his legs, wrapping them around Jason’s throat. The fans begin to stand, realizing they’re moments away from witnessing sheer disaster.

Porno Lad has Jason placed in a triangle choke variation with his legs while reaching under his bum for the title belt. He grabs hold of the N.H.B belt, trying desperately to rip it off the hook. As Wheeler begins to fade, oxygen completely cut off to his head, a diabolical thought pops into his head, a sure fire means of keeping the belt in his possession.

He releases the title and the hook it’s mounted on and grabs Porno Lad around his thighs, bringing him down from high above the ring with a thunderous sit-out powerbomb. Porno Lad falls victim to his earlier counter but with much more destructive results.

The fans are already out their feet unleashing a “holy shit” chant, almost rabid over what they just witnessed.

Moore: MAMA MIA!

Mark: He just…oh my God…he just…he just POWERBOMBED Porno Lad from that hook holding the title! Wheeler has destroyed his opp….but WAIT!

The reaction from the crowd gets even louder when they spot the N.H.B belt dangling from Porno Lad’s hand, having grabbed it while being pulled down into the powerbomb.

Comeau: I’m speechless, Porno Lad has got the N.H.B Championship!! He’s just won the title!

The reception is deafening from the crowd at the sight of this unbelievably convienant victory for the resident prankster. Wheeler is still recovering on the canvas, having no idea that he just lost the title, Porno Lad also clueless to this fact. It isn’t until BFG has re-entered the ring and sat Porno Lad up while putting the title over his shoulder that the victory finally dawns on the new champion.

Comeau: Words cannot even describe the lunacy we have just witnessed in this triple threat ladder match for the N.H.B Championship, but at the end of it all, Porno Lad, walks away with the title, and his revenge against former partner Jason Wheeler.

Moore: I’m happy for Porno Lad, because he gives me styling tips for my hair, but I’m sad for Ladder, who gives me strange urges under the sheets.

Mark: It all came down to this tremendous power-bomb from the belt to the ring, which may have killed Porno Lad, but gave him the title as well. Jason Wheeler is not going to like this decision.

Wheeler rolls to his side in excruciating pain, finally realizing that SOMEHOW Porno Lad weaseled his way into taking his title. Jason’s entire face has gone white as a sheet, both from the pain of that nasty tumble taken a few moments ago, and this stunning loss at Destiny.

Porno Lad has been slid out of the ring by BFG and thrown over the shoulder of his massive bodyguard. The big man carries an almost lifeless Porno up the ramp, the disorientated champion lifting his belt into the air even though he has no idea where he is.

Comeau: What a sensational Triple Threat Ladder Match we just witnessed with some truly death defying risks taken by all three combatants.

Moore: I’m so soured now. I don’t think I can watch the rest of the pay-per-view considering that Ladder didn’t win the N.H.B title.

Mark: Don’t worry, Susie, there’s always next time. What a riotous start we’ve gotten off to tonight on pay-per-view, with two show stealing bouts already, and we still got a number one contenders match, and a World title yet to be defended. We’re in store for a looong night?

Moore: Thank God I brought my yo-yo.

Jason sits on the canvas, looking absolutely lost in thought after one of the most barbaric matches of his career.


YOUNG AND DEFENSELESS


Katelyn watched the monitor from the backstage corridor with mixed emotions. It’s clear that after her turbulent last couple of weeks with Porno Lad she has no idea how to react to what transpired in the ring. Before she can finish nervously scratching at the back of her head she’s grabbed by her shoulder and spun around face to face with Robin Brooks.

The expression on Katlyn’s facial features transforms from a mask of confusion to a look of utter fear. That same dismay is amplified by the hot breaths of Hurse on the back of her neck, realizing she’s trapped between Porno Lad’s rivals.

Katelyn: Uh, hi?

She timidly wiggles her fingers towards the sour Brooks. An unstable Robin slaps her hand down out of the air.

Brooks: You listen and you listen closely Missy!

Hurse: Emphasis on the MISSY!

Hurse stomps his foot to sound more threatening. Now it’s Robin’s finger that is wiggling through the air, wagging in the stunned young woman’s face.

Robin: If you think we’re just going to sit idly by while your little friend Porno Lad ruins our beautiful wedding then your wrong….

Hurse: Dead wrong. Deader than Carrot Top’s career!

Brooks: Steven.

They stare at one another over Katelyn’s shoulder.

Hurse: Yes dear?

Robin: Stop helping.

He immediately lowers his head and makes a zipping motion across his lips before throwing away the figurative key.

Brooks: We’ve had just about enough of this wedding planner shit, and we’ve had it up to here….

Robin uses her palm to make a line under her chin.

Robin: With Porno Lad interfering in our matches. It’s not going to happen any longer, ESPECIALLY tonight.

A long awkward silence ensues between the impending victim and the impending assailants.

Katelyn: I don’t even think Porno Lad knew you were booked tonight. Is it in the curtain jerker, I believe that’s what they call it? You know, when you face the pimply guys in the bland spandex?

Brooks: How DARE you.

These words were hard pressed to form on Robin’s tongue, too astounded by Katelyn’s insinuation to so much as think up a feasible response.

Hurse: How dare you INDEED. You might not be able to see me because I’m standing behind you, but rest assure my face is red with anger and my finger is a waggin.

Katelyn’s face twists slightly and her eyes bat awkwardly.

Katelyn: Oh, so that’s your finger then?

Outrage again consumes Robin as Hurse pulls his hands away from Katelyn’s backside as quickly as possible. He pleads innocent with his expression but is not allowed to utter so much as a word.

Brooks: ENOUGH!

The infuriated Black Widow swipes her arms through the air before stepping menacingly towards Porno Lad’s associate.

Brooks: I want you to know that if Porno Lad tries to ruin my title win tonight, or so much as rears his putrid head at ringside, I’m going to hold you responsible.

That previously wagging finger is now dug into Katelyn’s chest to properly send a message. All the while Hurse stands back, wondering if he should be put off by Brooks’ statement or be solidly behind every word of it.

Robin: Which means if he gets in the way, I won’t come looking for that obnoxious Ashton wannabe, I’ll come looking for you.

It’s obvious that Katelyn gets the message clear as day, especially as the finger is twisted against her sternum.

Brooks: So don’t make me give you any wrestling lessons, sweetheart. Either talk to your man and tell him to stop meddling in our affairs, or what Hurse and I will do to you will be FAR worse than what happened to Krissie McMorris. You got that?

Katelyn nods maybe a little too enthusiastically.

Brooks: Good, now scoot!

Robin uses her thumb to motion over her shoulder, Katelyn nodding before she promptly takes off. The Master of Control steps towards his fiancée and slips his arm over her shoulders.

Hurse: Watching you lay down the law is so HAWT. I’m so getting out the Kama Sutra for Dummies book tonight.

Robin: Well you’ll have plenty of reason to celebrate, especially when I win back the X-Class title tonight.

She pulls him down by the back of the neck and works her way in for a kiss. They make out for only a moment until Hurse rears back his head, masking his condescending words behind a smile.

Hurse: Or we could be celebrating over the return of the Submission title to MY glorious waist.

The insinuation makes Robin chuckle slightly. She tries to obscure her laughter by cupping her hand over her mouth but just can’t help herself. She turns away from Hurse blue in the face until she busts out with a loud, hard chuckle. She doubles over gripping at her lungs while staggering out of the camera’s frame, leaving a confused Hurse behind.

Hurse: What? What’s so funny? I was being serious.

Brooks: BLAH-HAHAHA!

Robin screams her laughter as her fiancée rushes after her and disappears off camera.


MY DESTINY


Susie tries to hold back her laughter as she sits behind the announce table. Little droplets of spit fly from her sputtering lips. Comeau just watches on from behind the announce table shrugging his shoulders.

Mark: Your typical interaction between Brooks and Hurse backstage, with Robin unable to refrain from laughing at Hurse’s improbable insinuations.

Moore: Hurse told a funny.

Comeau: Yes, yes he did….but this is no LAUGHING MATTER!

As if the crowd wasn’t already raucous enough now they’re given even greater motivation to cut loose. Brawling amongst them is none other than Nathan Creed and Pat Evans. The fans are floored as the two rivals rage war right between their raised beers and ridiculous signs.

Comeau: Creed and Evans STILL going at it after Nathan chased Pat off earlier tonight!

Moore: Yeah, and all Pat was doing was admiring your tie. Can I lick it?

Evans is stunned by the chops and the right hands that are landed across his body, supplied by a vengeful Creed. Pat’s shirt has been torn to shreds and red streaks left across his exposed chest as Creed delivers knife edge chop after knife edge chop.

Another stiff strike knocks Pat spine first into the barricade. His arms fall over the barrier as Creed charges in to continue the punishment. That’s when Evans bends forward, catches the inbound Creed against his shoulder and back drops him over the barrier.

The Number One Contender tumbles across the outside mats, hitting them hard spine first. He reaches for his kidneys and rolls towards the ring, blocking the pain that courses through his frame by remembering the agony that they put Krissie through. Evans steps over the barricade with a steel chair snatched out from under a fan still gripped in his palms.

He steps up behind Nathan and slams the chair over his upper back, the collision knocking every bit of air from Creed’s lungs.

Mark: This brawl only escalating and putting Creed’s World Title shot in further jeopardy.

Now Evans outwardly displays his rage, no longer keeping his cool in the face of such depravity. He motions for Nathan to enter the squared circle and let them settle it out like warriors. He threatens the Future with a further beating as Nathan crawls around the mats, falling into the tarp hanging from the apron and accidentally disappearing beneath the ring..

Pat: COME ON! I owe you a chair shot for a chair shot mother fucker.

Evans’ reference to what happened at the last pay-per-view is drowned out by boos from the audience. An impatient Evans storms towards the cables and leans through them, reaching down to grab hold of Creed. That’s when Nathan stands up and swings a steel pipe right into Evans’ skull.

Comeau: Nathan found a pipe!

Moore: I have plenty of those in my shower.

Mark: He CREAMED Evans with that sucker.

Moore: He’s got the body of Tarzan but the strength of Jane.

Mark: Can you go back to ripping off Michael Cole, PLEASE?

Evans rolls across the ring gripping at his skull as Nathan slides in after him. Pat just keeps on rolling till he spills under the far ropes to the outside mats, immediately back peddling up the ramp with his palm pressed to his throbbing skull.

Nathan doesn’t give chase, instead he remains in the ring pointing the pipe at the former Submission Champion. He shouts a slew of emotional words at the stunned Evans before demanding the use of a microphone. Kailey Worf extends one through the ropes and it is quickly snatched out of her palm.

Nathan: PAT! Take my message to your Boss and your World Champion. That’s right, I let you off easy to be a messenger….

Creed’s whole body is shivering, ripe with raw emotion.

Creed: I want you to tell them that nothing, NOTHING, will stand in the way of my destiny! I WILL leave as World Heavyweight Champion. I will go to Paranoia VI! And I will defend the belt against Orlando in his final match. It’s fate, fate that will not, and cannot be denied!

Veins protrude through Nathan’s temples and throat, his body overwhelmed by all the emotion he’s experiencing.

Nathan: And above all else I want you to tell Savior and Douglas that I’m coming for them, just like I came after you. The only difference is that THEY will not walk away to talk about it.

A loud response is registered from the crowd as a result of this proclamation. Evans palms the top of his skull and watches through fuming eyes.

Creed: Savior is going to suffer far worse than Krissie did. I’m going to break him down, take what he prizes the most, and end the Conspiracy TONIGHT!

Nathan’s expression does not waver even as the crowd chants his name. His eyes do not deviate from Evans on the ramp.

Nathan: I’m going to shatter his arm and shatter all his dreams. Because while it’s my destiny to walk away World Champion tonight, it’s Christian’s fate to lay on this canvas a bloodied, busted, beaten man. One way or another my destiny will be FULFILLED!

The microphone is tossed to the canvas as Creed steps onto the middle rope, leaning over it and gripping the pipe tightly in both palms. His eyes burn a hole into an equally as emotional Evans.

Comeau: I would not want to be the man who has to oppose Creed tonight. He is all worked up after what happened to McMorris on the last Riot! Will his anger fuel him to World title glory?

Moore: Jamacan me…..

Mark: No, just no. That doesn’t help at all.

Creed and Evans continue to interlock eyes, the war between them continuing to heat up.

Mark: Will we have a new World Champion when he roll into Paranoia VI? According to Creed we shall. And that’s the next time you can join us here on pay-per-view.

Moore: Good thing I saved up my food-stamps.


PAY-PER-VIEW ADVERT



Comeau: It’s going to be the biggest event of the year and tonight we find out not only who will walk into the pay-per-view as World Champion, but also as number one contender.

Moore: I’m so excited to be a part of Paranoia VI. This will be my first time commentating the big show and I got something special planned.

Mark: Oh really? I hope this doesn’t have anything to do with puppets.

Susie: Uhhh, never-mind then.

Mark: Paranoia VI just over the horizon and as you can see emotions are running high building to this one.

Moore: It’s as emotional as me during my first period, at the ripe young age of 22.


MAX CRAVEN © & AXL EVERMORE ©
VS.
ROBIN BROOKS & HURSE




The ring has now been cleared of any ladders, titles, or vengeful number one contenders as the next match is moments from transpiring.

There is a house in New Orleeeaaannsss
They call the Rissssiiiinngg Sun
It’s been the ruin of plenty a poor boy
And lord I know I’m one….

UHHHHH

Without much in the way of hesitation Robin Brooks and Hurse emerge onto the stage. The challengers pause as laser lights shine over their shoulders. The pear descends on the ring as Hurse stops only briefly to plant a kiss on the back of Robin’s hand. She pulls it away sharply and insists that Hurse’s whiskers poked her hand, which her fiancée immediately apologizes for. Once they reach the ring Hurse holds the ropes open for Robin to enter and the Black Widow steps to the center of the canvas. She throws her arms out to her sides and looks smugly towards the heavens while Hurse crawls up beside her and wraps his arms lovingly around her waist.

Mark: The show must go on and that’s just what is happening as we gear up for tag team action.

Moore: It’s that comedian and Cheetara. And by comedian I don’t mean the badass superhero in Watchmen, I mean, like Gallagher sans watermelons.

Comeau: Robin Brooks and Hurse lost their respective titles to BOTH members of Sex & Violence, but tonight they get their rematches in a Double Title Tag. Whichever member of Sex & Violence that is pinned here tonight will lose their respective championship. Of course, if neither Craven or Evermore are pinned, then they’ll walk away with ALL the gold tonight.

Brooks and Hurse still seem to be bickering over who is going to go for the pinfall or the submission tonight.

A deep voice sounds over the loudspeakers as the following words appear on the Cartel-Tron...

SEX

&

VIOLENCE

It goes into the IWC edit of "All Nightmare Long" by Metallica as the crowd is buzzing in anticipation of who's about to emerge from the back: none other than the IWC contingent of Fully Loaded, Max Craven and Axl Evermore.

"'Cause we hunt you down without mercy, hunt you down all nightmare long!
Feel us breathe upon your face!
Feel us shift, every move we trace!
Hunt you down without mercy, hunt you down all nightmare long, yeah!
LUCK...RUNS...OUT; You crawl back IN-ah, but your
LUCK RUNS OUT-AH!!"

The crowd goes wild as the Casablanca Casanova and the Big Apple Superstar make their way to the center of the stage. Both men have matching singles title belts wrapped around their waists, broadcasting their in ring dominance.

Kailey Worf: On their way to the ring...from NEW YORK CITY, at a combined weight of 466 pounds, representing Fully Loaded...Max Craven and Axl Evermore...they ARE...SEX...&...VIOLENCE!!

The Submission Champ, Evermore, and the X-Class title holder, Craven, pump their fists and generally do guts poses at the center of the stage, riling the roaring crowd up, before determinedly heading down the ramp with a pep in their step. They slide into the ring and Axl looks around with a grin and then pushes himself up as Max rolls into a front headspring, landing on his feet. They head to adjacent corners and climb, throwing their arms out with open palms and open-mouth smiles as the crowd cheers, then they hop down and head to the center. Axl drops to one knee and thrusts his arms out as Max behind him raises his arms in an X, and as Evermore points to himself with his thumbs, pyro explosions go off in time behind them to his three thumb points. As the smoke clears, they take off their team jackets and drape them over their corner while hopping in place and throwing hands into the air while whispering strategy to each other.

Comeau: Evermore and Craven putting everything on the line tonight in front of their hometown crowd. If Axl can keep from being forced to tap, and Max can prevent being pinned, these two will retain their titles, but they’ve definitely got their work cut out for them.

Moore: Whenever a job seems too challenging, or challenging at all, for me, I just put all my classic phrases on a tape recorder and play in a loop. For all you know, you could just be talking to a tape recorder RIGHT NOW, Mark.

Mark: The conversations would probably be much more enlightening.

The Manhattan Center crowd is relishing at the sight of Max Craven standing across from Robin Brooks. This is exactly what Craven wanted, a shot at the woman who attempted to side line him and take away the X-Class title he worked so hard to obtain.

Robin looks less than thrilled to be starting off the match with Craven as they both begin to circle each other. The bell chimes as Craven and Brooks wait for the other to make a move.

Comeau: This match already off to an interesting start as Brooks and Craven find themselves face to face after a month full of attacks and disguises.

Susie: Sounds like something I do in that underground S&M club on the weekends.

Max gets tired of waiting, pouncing towards Brooks who timidly steps back and slaps the hand of Hurse. An overwhelmingly negative reaction is heard due to Robin’s rancid behavior. She just flips her hair in response and brushes off the crowd with a swipe of her hand as she climbs onto the apron.

Obviously Hurse has no idea how to react, not wanting to get in there against a highly motivated Craven. Nevertheless he slips into the ring, steps towards Max and the two tie up in your basic collar elbow lock. That’s when Max quickly transitions into an arm ringer, really twisting and wrenching at the former Submission Champion’s arm.

Hurse desperately tries to free himself, slapping at his bicep repeatedly before dropping down into a forward roll. He ends up right back on his feet before turning and swinging under Craven’s bicep, reversing into his own arm ringer. This hold is only established for a moment before Hurse transitions into a hammerlock.

Axl paces on the apron, shouting out instructions to Max on the perfect way to counter this hold. He doesn’t need any such advise, especially because Hurse breaks his own hold in favor of applying a side headlock.

Mark: Max and Hurse trading holds here, both men soundly versed in the technical arts.

Susie: I’m good at art too, you should see some of my finger paintings.

Unfortunately for Hurse, his opponent will not stay grounded for long as he pushes himself backwards, then spins so that their spines are pressed together. At first Max goes for a backslide, but is unable to pull Hurse down, therefore he transitions around and applies his own side headlock.

An angry Hurse reaches up and grabs one of the interlocked hands in front of his jaw, pulling down on it thus dragging Craven to the canvas. Max ends up on his stomach with his rival jumping over him and dropping into a side headlock. He quickly transitions into a front chancery though, trying to cut off all air supply to Craven’s cranium.

This elicits a quick response from Max who twists his body and as thus frees his head from the front chancery. In that same fluid motion he grabs Hurse’s wrist and once again places him in an arm ringer.

A piercing cry emanates from Hurse as he’s dragged to his feet still trapped in the arm ringer then pulled towards the enemy corner. An eager Axl is waiting to make the tag, slapping his partner’s shoulder then scaling the turnbuckle to the top rope.

He balances himself before diving off into a double axehandle square to Hurse’s bicep. He turns away from the Submission Champion cradling his arm to his chest and almost sobbing from the pain.

Evermore doesn’t let him go far before he takes Hurse’s battered limb, extends the bicep and pulls it down hard over his shoulder. With his back turned towards Hurse he again lifts the arm into the air and drags it down straight into his shoulder, perhaps busting the bicep.

The cries from his rival only further motivate Axl who spins around and clamps on another arm ringer. He maintains the hold for a second until he drops to his back, wedges one foot to Hurse’s bicep and keeps the other hooked behind his arm. Evermore now kicks Hurse’s arm backwards into the other foot, sandwiching the muscle violently.

Comeau: Axl immediately going to work on that arm.

Susie: It’s okay, Hurse can always buy a plastic one.

Evermore rolls back to his feet and steps in taking the damaged limb of his rival. He swings under it and establishes the arm ringer. Hurse’s wrist is twisted viciously but he will not be stopped from reaching out and digging his fingers into the Champion’s eye sockets. He drags Axl by the eyes into the enemy corner where Robin makes a timely tag.

The snickering Brooks enters the ring and drives a forearm over Axl’s back repeatedly, until he finally breaks the arm ringer. All the while Hurse grates his nails against Axl’s retinas, really digging his fingers in deep.

This double teaming finally takes the Submission Champion to a knee before he’s pulled back to his feet and backed into a corner by his rivals. Robin and Hurse bicker over their next course of action then decide to just whip him into the opposite corner, which Evermore meets back first.

His arms dangle over the ropes to keep him upright while Hurse takes Robin’s wrist and whips her straight at their opposition. Brooks lunges into the air for a flying forearm only to have Axl step out of her flight trajectory, sending her crashing sternum first against the turnbuckle.

The quick Evermore charges out of the corner right into a boot to the ribs from Hurse, who spins him around and hooks both arms into a double chickenwing. Thanks to the lack of tag rules he’s already going for the submission, attempting to force his rival to utter those two magic words, “I Quit.”

Robin realizes this and charges out of the corner, presumably to aid her fiancée, or perhaps to keep this match from ending without her leaving with a title. As she comes barreling towards them Evermore ducks his head and causes Hurse to bend forward as well, back dropping the inbound Brooks through the air.

The moment Robin hits the canvas, Axl frees one arm, drops to his knee and uses his other trapped bicep to connect with an arm drag. Hurse is sent flipping forward into the canvas, crashing across his back until he rolls right to his feet. He stands for only a second until Evermore charges in, lunges high into the air, catches Hurse around the back of his head and pulls him down into a modified code breaker, utilizing just one leg to hit the maneuver.

Hurse is sent flying in reverse while Axl remains sprawled across his back. It’s at this point that Robin charges in and connects with a standing shooting star press. Unfortunately for her, she meets nothing but canvas, Evermore dashing her hopes by rolling out of the way then lunging into his corner where he makes the tag.

Comeau: Craven brought back into this fast paced tag team contest. And we both know who he’s going after.

Moore: I hope it’s Bette Midler, I can’t stand her lips.

The fans are excited as Craven climbs to the top rope of his team’s corner and takes flight, connecting with a missile dropkick on the rising Brooks. His boots meet her sternum as the X-Class Champion rolls to his feet only to be kicked to the ribs by a recovered Hurse.

He is then whipped into the turnbuckle, Craven connecting against the corner hard spine first. That’s when the Challenger comes barreling towards him, diving in for a big splash. Much like Brooks a few moments ago, Hurse meets with misfortune, Craven clearing out of the way and leaving him to splash only the corner.

At that exact same instant Evermore rushes across the apron, grabs the top rope and delivers a hard kick right to Hurse’s face over the cables. Max takes off across the ring at a rising Robin and drops into a baseball slide, grabbing her foot and pulling it out from under her in the process. He slides under the cables to the outside of the ring while Robin is tripped forward to the canvas, smashing her face against it.

Max quickly jumps to the apron then to the turnbuckle, rallying the fans behind him, which they gladly do.

Mark: Max about to take flight and gain further retribution against the Black Widow.

Moore: Poor Cheetara.

Comeau: That has gotten so old already.

The Manhattan fans are in staunch support of Max, who is mere moments from taking flight. That’s until Brooks surprisingly recovers and jumps to the middle rope, quickly connecting with rights and lefts to his mid-section. She now climbs up to the top rope in front of a dazed Craven and takes him by the arm.

Brooks: Time to finish what I started!

The Challenger is about to hit a super divorce court arm breaker from the top rope but Craven is fighting it, struggling valiantly against her. Axl now dashes to his partner’s aid, stepping under Brooks and placing her in an electric chair drop position only to have Robin drill him to the skull via right hands.

The blow disorientate Evermore enough to stagger back and turn towards the opposite side of the ring, spotting an inbound Hurse in the nick of time. He now catches Hurse with a drop toe hold, planting him forehead first against the second turnbuckle pad.

A dazed Hurse ends up seated in the corner under the still struggling Brooks and Craven. Max is able to generate the strength to deliver a hard European Uppercut, knocking Brooks down into a tree of woe. She ends up hanging in right in front of the seated Hurse, her back pressed to her fiancee’s chest.

Evermore rushes to the opposite corner and now takes off across the ring before delivering a front dropkick to Brooks’ face, knocking her head back into Hurse’s sternum. Axl rolls quickly out of the way as Max jumps off the turnbuckle, lands into a forward roll, turns back towards his prone opponents and bolts straight at them. The crowd erupts as Max lunges into the air and delivers a beautiful hesitation dropkick onto both of his rivals.

Comeau: This is the type of tag team precision you’ll only see from Sex & Violence.

Susie: We make a good team too don’t we?

Mark: I do have a habit of carrying your ass.

Moore: Good thing I never eat then.

Both the Black Widow and Master of Control are convulsing against the turnbuckle. Finally referee Wright gets some control over the chaos, forcing Hurse out of the ring as Brooks drops from the turnbuckle. She falls right into the waiting arms of Evermore and Craven, who stand her up only to hook her armpits. They rush forward and toss the Challenger HIGH into the air via the double hip toss.

Brooks catches such height one would think she’s a NBA star, up until she plummets against the canvas on her spine. She cringes and almost weeps from the pain as Axl and Max step in, standing her up and then lighting up her chest by delivering simultaneous chops.

The stiff strikes knock her backwards towards a vacant corner, which she eventually falls into. The fans are cheering on the dominant champions who snatch hold of both Robin’s wrists and send her into the diagonal corner. Just as Brooks is about to hit the turnbuckle she reaches out, catching the ropes and leaping into the air.

Evermore ends up charging right under Brooks and hitting the turnbuckle while Robin twists around in mid-air, landing on her feet with her back turned towards her unfortunate opposition.

She lands just in time for Max to come storming into her ribs with a spear. That’s until Brooks leap frogs the inbound Craven causing him to charge shoulder first directly into his own partner’s stomach. Evermore roars in pain thanks to his partner’s egregious error.

The quick witted Brooks now grabs Max, who was still stooped forward into Axl’s ribs, and pulls him down into a school boy. Evermore falls to his seat against the turnbuckle breathing heavily, unable to break up the pin.

1

2

Craven kicks out by rolling back to his feet, then quickly charges at the seated Brooks who catches him with a drop toe hold. Max is sent tumbling skull first right into the testicles of Evermore. Axl begins to convulse and roll out of the corner gripping at his testicles.

Susie: I hope Axl wasn’t planning on making any cameos in Max’s movies.

Comeau: I have to admit Robin set that up nicely.

An already exasperated Brooks stands and staggers towards her corner where she makes the tag to an anxious Hurse. The Challenger jumps over the ropes into the ring then quickly charges at his rising opponents. Before Max can even properly balance himself he’s almost decapitated by a clothesline.

Axl just gets to his feet and stumbles out of the corner when Hurse boots him hard to the ribs then clobbers him with a right hand. Evermore is knocked to the ring while Hurse turns and catches the recovered Craven by his wrist, attempting to whip him off across the ring.

Craven musters the strength to counter, instead sending Hurse into the ropes then bending forward for a back drop. Hurse stops just short of the X-Class Champion and takes him around the neck, putting him in position for the sit-out Sliced Bread Number 2. He now begins to take off towards one of the turnbuckles to deliver the Disinfectant.

Evermore attempts to put the kibosh on these plans though, charging in to rescue his partner only to have Hurse boot him to the ribs and place him in a front chancery. The Challenger drops to his seat hitting a stunner on Craven and a DDT on Axl at the same time.

Mark: Big COMBO by Hurse taking out both members of Sex & Violence.

Moore: I love Combos, especially the ones filled with cheese. I get to lick one Combo every week for dinner.

The fans are repulsed by the smile on Hurse’s face, proud of himself for decimating the champions. Evermore rolls to the outside of the ring holding his pounding skull while Hurse forces Craven up to his feet. The moment that Max stands he is whipped across the ring into the turnbuckle.

Before connecting with it he lunges into the air, landing on the second rope then springing off into a twisting crossbody. However, Hurse drops down out of the way, causing Craven to come crashing down into the canvas, popping up onto his elbows and knees.

That’s when Hurse rushes out of the corner, jumps over the X-Class Champion and takes him over into an Oklahoma Roll for the pinfall.

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Hurse’s hopes of becoming X-Class Champion are dashed as Craven kicks out, yet he will not give up so easily. As soon as Max gets his shoulder up Hurse forces him down across his stomach and ties up one of his arms. He locks in a crossface, attempting to force Craven to tap.

All the while Robin watches on with a confused expression, wondering why Hurse is trying to win HER title. Before she can inquire Evermore rushes across the ring and nails a front dropkick to the seated Hurse’s face, breaking up his attempt at the submission.

Hurse grips at his face and now writhes on the canvas while Brooks swoops in to inflict pain on the meddling Evermore. A hard shin kick connects to Axl’s chest the second he stands up. Brooks proceeds with kick after kick to the Submission Champion’s chest, doubling him over in anguish.

Max also starts to stand, stumbling into the fray and receiving a shin kick to his chest as well from Brooks’ opposite leg. She now hits a succession of kicks, alternating from one opponent to the other, lighting up their sternums with these blows.

Finally it’s Evermore who catches Robin by the leg before he could suffer another kick. Brooks begins to hop on one foot, setting for a counter only to have Max rush up beside her and connect with a step up enzugari. The low greatly disorientates Robin, who looks dead on her feet.

That’s when both of her wrists are taken and she’s whipped across the ring by Sex & Violence. As she bounces off the ropes and comes back in at her rivals they interlock hands, Axl and Max going for a double lariat. That’s when Robin jumps into the air and hits a flying pump kick to their interlocked hands.

The shot breaks apart their interlocked hands, knocking Max and Axl into a spin. They turn all the way around and find themselves facing Hurse who flies forward into a stereo lariat. Both men collapse to the canvas and Hurse swaggers forward with a pep in his step.

Comeau: This action getting frantic yet again, which is the case in most title situations, but now we have TWO belts on the line.

Susie: That’s not fair, that’s selfish. Everyone’s got a belt but me. How can I be expected to hold my pants up? Answer me that!

Brooks and Evermore have vacated the ring leaving Hurse to take Craven around the neck and force him to his feet. He hooks both arms, going for his version of the pedigree.

Mark: Uh oh. Hurse setting up for the move he finished Aurora off with last week. He calls this pedigree the Lysol Injection.

The pedigree is moments away from spelling doom for Craven until he surprisingly twists his body, hooks the crease of Hurse’s elbow and pulls him down into an arm drag. Hurse is sent flipping forward across the ring but quickly getting to his feet.

He just stands up before Craven spirals through the air into a corkscrew kick landing straight to his nose. The Master of Control is knocked to the ring where he convulses horribly, while Craven makes the tag to an impatient Evermore. Axl enters the ring and moves towards Hurse, popping him to the side of the face as he crawls like a dog on the canvas.

Evermore now takes his Challenger around the jaw, leading him up to his feet in preparation of busting out one of his many trademark moves.

That’s when Hurse snatches hold of Axl’s leg and hoists him into the air. He flapjacks Evermore face first into the top of a turnbuckle, rendering him almost unconscious. Axl bounces off and turns his back to the corner, leaning on it for support while Hurse crawls towards his corner and tags in his fiancée.

The Black Widow jumps over the ropes then cartwheels across the canvas, back flips to her feet and lunges into the air with a spinning heel kick. The kick nails Evermore to the chin, almost shattering some of his teeth. Axl’s eyes gloss over as Robin uses all her strength to push him up onto the top rope.

Evermore is seated on the top rope as Brooks climbs up beside him and takes him around the neck. She is now setting up for a swinging neckbreaker from the top cable until Evermore drills her to the ribs. Brooks is bent forward as Evermore takes her around the neck and drops out of the corner, hitting a super stunner.

The Shotgun sends Brooks flying backwards into the corner, her arms falling over the cables to keep herself upright. It’s at this exact moment that Evermore is charging across the ring connecting with a yakuza kick. The boot almost shatters Brooks’ lovely features.

Comeau: Ohhh, Robin taking quite a bit of punishment thanks to this cohesive tandem.

Moore: I like cohesives, except when I glue my lips together.

Mark: I imagine that ruins many a men’s Friday nights.

Robin is so loopy she throws a few punches at imaginary figures, Evermore exploiting this to his advantage. He rushes at Brooks, spins her around and drags her out of the corner to the center of the ring before dropping back into a dragon suplex.

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Robin kicks out, dropping over onto her knees only to have Evermore roll towards her, hooking both of her arms. He pulls her down onto the top of her shoulders with a crucifix pin.

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Brooks launches her shoulder from the ring once more, preventing her title dreams from being dashed. She and Axl race one another to their feet before Evermore rushes into a lariat.

Somehow Robin is able to duck the inbound arm of her opponent, causing Evermore to spin around and walk right into a superkick to the jaw. Her kick severally addles Evermore, who stumbles and staggers, surprisingly still on his feet. This puts him in perfect position for Brooks who rushes at him only to be caught in a tilt a whirl, which is exactly what she had planned.

She catches Evermore around the neck in mid-twist, floats over his shoulder and drops to her feet. Axl is bridged over backwards into a reverse DDT position as Robin drags him towards her corner. Brooks makes a tag and then drops Evermore into a reverse DDT backbreaker variation.

Evermore finds himself completely bridged over in reverse, his head still trapped in a dragon sleeper predicament thanks to the kneeling Black Widow. Hurse now steps across the apron, takes the top rope then pulls himself over them into a senton bomb across Axl’s entirely exposed ribcage.

A roar of anguish emanates from Axl as Brooks stands up, pulling him along for the ride then nails a Scorpion Death Drop variation of the reverse DDT. Robin rises to her knees quickly, pulling Evermore’s cranium up into the dragon sleeper once again, but this time she actually clamps on the hold.

All the air and blood flow is deprived to Axl’s skull as Hurse turns around to spot the submission. He bats his eyes awkwardly, bewildered by Brooks going for the submission hold, trying to take HIS championship.

Despite this realization Hurse charges across the ring, trying to stop Max from entering the ring and breaking up the submission. Hurse drops to his knees and wraps his arms around Craven’s waist, preventing him from entering the squared circle. He tries desperately to get loose as Robin wrenches violently at Axl’s neck.

The Submission Champion tries to break free, but his energy is fading. The fans are on their feet chanting Axl’s name, desperate to ensure that he doesn’t loose his gold.

Comeau: Brooks with the dragon sleeper, mere moments from possibly winning that Submission gold. How long is Axl going to hang in there?

Moore: I’m setting my watch now.

Despite the fans’ support Evermore is fading, his body absolutely exasperated due to the pace of this tag team contest. Just when hope begins to fade Axl wedges his feet to the ring and starts to push his body upward, ascending surprisingly to his feet.

He now reaches up and takes Brooks around the back of her head, bending her cranium forward just enough for him to launch a few knees to her forehead. The strikes are stiff enough to cause the Black Widow to break her hold as Axl spins around and finds himself in a front chancery at this point. He now pushes her off, sending Brooks charging backwards into the cables.

He catches her coming back in against his shoulders, placing her in a death valley driver position. At that exact same instant Craven breaks free from Hurse and delivers a hard kick over the ropes directly to his temple. The strike knocks him on his ass while Max ascends to the very top rope.

Brooks is held in perfect position for some type of tag move only to have Hurse step up beside Craven, wedge his hand to his leg and shove him off the top rope. Max flips forward and crashes on his back across the canvas while Axl delivers the Michealson DDT on Brooks.

Robin is laid out as her assailant rushes to his feet and turns towards Hurse, both men charging at each other then laying one another out with a double clothesline. All four athletes are down and the only people standing is the crowd.

Referee Wright steps in and commences with a ten count, about to be disqualify all four combatants. That’s until Max and Axl begin to stand, both men trying to assist one another to their feet. At the same time Brooks and Hurse have rolled towards each other, looking dazed and confused as they slowly ascend upwards.

All four opponents are upright when Hurse and Brooks charge at Sex & Violence, going for stereo lariats. Max and Axl duck the inbound arms of their opponents, then deliver simultaneous superkicks to the jaws of the challengers.

These stiff strikes send the Black Widow and Master of Control spiraling backwards into the ropes and spilling through the cables to the outside. They splatter across the mats and sluggishly try to get to their feet, unaware than Max and Axl are rushing at the ropes, jumping over the cables to opposite turnbuckles and moonsault through the air.

The crowd explodes as Max and Axl connect with the simultaneous moonsaults onto Brooks and Hurse.

Mark: OOOOOHHH!!

Moore: CHICKEN QUESEDIA!

Comeau: Craven and Evermore with some SENSATIONAL dives!

An aching Evermore grabs a hand full of Brooks’ hair before rolling her into the ring. Even though they are both exhausted Brooks stands up inside of the squared circle while her opponent climbs onto the apron. That’s when Brooks lunges forward, trying to take Axl down only to have her fist blocked and be nailed under the jaw with a forearm.

She is immediately knocked to the canvas as Axl takes the top rope and pulls himself over into a slingshot elbow drop. He connects then quickly rolls out of the way as the X-Class Champion hops to the apron, grabs the top rope and pulls himself over into a senton leg drop directly across Robin’s throat.

The fans erupt over this continuity from the Submission and X-Class title holders, but Hurse tries to cut short their applause. He charges up behind a winded Evermore and takes him around the waist, setting up for a German suplex. That’s when Craven rushes up behind Hurse and locks him in his own reverse waistlock.

Hurse is so frazzled by this occurrence that he lets Axl go, allowing Evermore to perform a standing switch that takes him around behind his own partner as well.

Evermore is oddly holding Craven in a waistlock as Hurse breaks free from Max’s hands and barrels into the cables. He bounces off and comes back in at his opponents only to have Axl lift Max up into the air from behind, Craven’s feet extending right into Hurse’s inbound face.

The second that the boots knock Hurse to the canvas, Evermore lifts Max up even higher and allows him to float over his shoulder into a moonsault splash right across Robin’s mid-section. The Manhattan Center explodes at the sight of this lethal offense from Sex & Violence.

Comeau: Man, is there any team better than Max Craven and Axl Evermore?

Moore: Captain Kirk and Spock?

Brooks writhes on the canvas in a great deal of pain before she’s taken by the hair, Evermore forcing her up to her feet and whipping her across the ring. Max steps aside to let his partner have at the Black Widow, who ricochets from the ropes and comes back in at a patient Evermore.

He is stunned however, when Robin jumps into the air, twists her body and reaches back with her legs, wrapping them around Axl’s waist. She drops forward out of the wheelbarrow position then interlocks her arms around Axl’s ankle, also wrapping her legs around his thigh.

The Submission Champion tumbles to the canvas finding himself trapped in the ankle lock with a leg grapevine. He cries out from the unbearable agony, already lifting his palm into the air at the eve of tapping out. Thankfully Max charges in though to break up the submission. However, he is stopped by Hurse who launches a boot over Axl’s body into Craven’s mid-section, doubling him over.

Hurse quickly hooks both of Craven’s arms, doubling him over top of the writhing Evermore. To screams from the audience Hurse delivers the pedigree, planting Craven right on top of Axl’s upper back.

Max lays there prone over his partner’s shoulders as Hurse places him in an arm lock and at the same time reaches down pulling back on Evermore’s chin. Axl now finds himself in a rear chin-lock variation as well as the ankle lock, while Craven lays on top of him with his arm being ripped out of its socket.

Comeau: What a strange predicament Sex & Violence find themselves in. Both men may be moments away from tapping out, but who will do so first and lose their title?

Moore: Not Max, he’s use to these kinky positions.

Hurse now breaks the rear chin lock, and jumps over Max’s back, pulling him off of Axl into another Oklahoma roll variation. Unlike earlier he lets Max fall out of it though, so that he has him stretched across his back in perfect position for the Anaconda Vice to be locked in.

Max roars in pain at the same time that Evermore does, both men finding themselves in harrowing predicaments. Hurse really applies the pressure, perhaps moments away from winning the X-Class title, while at the same time Brooks twists with even greater force at Evermore’s ankle, perhaps seconds from laying claim to the Submission Championship.

The audience is screaming for their hometown heroes to fight through the crippling, blinding pain. Axl begins to feed off of this energy, giving him just enough strength to start towards the ropes and reach out for them. Miraculously Evermore is able to grab the bottom cable at the same time that Max extends his foot and places it over the middle rope.

Referee Wright jumps in demanding that both challenger’s break their respective submission holds as Brooks and Hurse begrudgingly abide.

Comeau: Max and Axl escaping those simultaneous submissions in this thrilling tag team bout.

Evermore lays despondently on the canvas while his partner rolls to the apron. Brooks’ fiancée does the same, but Robin still has the strength to stand, giving the crowd a repulsed glance.

That’s until Axl stands up and Brooks moves in, delivering repeated kicks to the back of his thigh and ankle, trying to do as much damage to it as humanly possible. She now rushes forward into the ropes and springs to the second one, taking flight for some type of career shortening dive.

The move back fires as Brooks twists in mid-air and is caught across Axl’s chest who swings her around into a spinning powerslam. Brooks is driven hard into the canvas and immediately rolls towards her corner where Hurse is awaiting the tag.

At the same time Axl is crawling towards Max, who has recovered in their corner. Both Craven and Hurse are now tagged in at the same time, bringing them to the center of the ring where they begin to exchange right hands. A jab nails Hurse before he responds with a blow of his own.

The Master of Control now goes for another right that Craven ducks, twisting his back to Hurse, hooking both his arms and pulling him down into a surprising back slide.

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Hurse kicks out, dropping over in reverse to the despair of the crowd. He ends up back on his feet as Max stands in front of him just in time to drop down to his knees once again in order to prevent being nailed by Hurse’s superkick.

Max’s relief is short lived as he remains in his kneeling base, because after missing the superkick, Hurse instead delivers a swift buzzsaw kick to the back of Craven’s cranium.

Max is knocked to the canvas as a result while a smug Hurse slaps his palms together and blows off the booing crowd. He spits in their direction before grabbing Max by his ankle and wrist, dragging him towards a nearby turnbuckle which he promptly climbs.

The audience showers him with boos as Hurse gets to the top of the turnbuckle then takes flight. He soars through the air and extends his back, going for a senton splash only to have Craven quickly roll out of the way. As a result Hurse’s spine connects with nothing but canvas.

He sits up yelping in pain while Max sluggishly crawls across the ring then reaches out slapping the waiting hand of Evermore. Simultaneous tags have once again been made, because Hurse also brings Brooks back into the action. She jumps over the ropes and charges at the incoming Evermore, throwing a lariat only to have Axl duck her arm, hook it and spin her around into a front chancery.

Axl quickly hoists her up into the air in a vertical suplex position as Craven steps behind his partner. That’s when Axl releases Robin and drops her back first across Craven’s shoulder. Max holds Robin in the dominator position for only a moment until he spins her out of it into a hurricane DDT. Robin’s skull splats off the canvas and she rolls to her back while Evermore slips through the ropes and climbs the nearby turnbuckle.

Hurse is too incapacitated to do anything about this as Axl balances himself then dives off the top rope into a high flying elbow drop. The point of his elbow connects right against Brooks’ heart before Evermore quickly hooks both of her legs, the fans realizing he’s moments away from winning this match and retaining the titles.

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3!

Sex & Violence are victorious, they have retained their titles by virtue of pinning a very game Robin Brooks. Evermore sits up to celebrate when the official jumps in front of him and makes it public knowledge that Brooks got her shoulder up just before the three count. Axl cannot believe what he’s hearing.

Comeau: You’re shitting me!

Moore: No I’m not. That’s what I bought the diapers for silly.

The fans are equally as stunned as Axl over this occurrence. Nevertheless he takes Robin by the hair, leads her to her feet and drags her flailing body into his shoulders, once again setting for the Michaelson DDT. Craven stands up at his partner’s side, anxious to see him nail this move only for him to pull Robin to pull a fast one.

As she’s dragged over into the DVD version of the move she frees her head and ends up landing legs first on top of Craven’s shoulders, quickly pulling him around into a head scissors. Max is sent flipping across the canvas with Robin landing on her elbows and knees.

She just begins to stand up when Evermore moves in and nails her under the jaw with a right hand. The blow staggers her and she finds it even harder to stand when Axl nails another shot to her head. Now Axl does some fancy footwork and moves in for the knock out shot only to be caught across the chest and pulled face first into the second rope of a turnbuckle via the downward spiral.

Robin quickly rolls out of the way as Hurse springs to the top rope and flies the entire length of the ring, eventually delivering a coast to coast dropkick right to the back of Axl’s head.

His face is driven with even greater force against the turnbuckle pad, completely incapacitating him.

Mark: Now Brooks and Hurse demonstrating their continuity with an UNBELIEVABLE sequence of moves!

Axl drops out of the corner in perfect position for Brooks who steps over his back, takes him around the chin and pulls him up into the camel clutch. Every fan is screaming for Axl not to tap out as he finds himself trapped in this hold, no possible chance of an escape. Even chanting his name doesn’t seem to do the trick as Axl rapidly fades into an unconscious state.

Comeau: Axl is trapped, he’s got no other recourse at this point. He either has to tap out or pass out and relinquish the Submission Title to Brooks.

Moore: Yeah, Cheetara will be champion again.

Referee Wright drops to his knees in front of Axl, imploring him to quit before any serious damage is done. That’s when Max rushes up behind Wright, steps off of his back and uses him as a platform to launch himself into a shinning wizard to Brooks’ face.

The Manhattan Center reacts joyfully as Brooks is knocked off of the camel clutch, preventing her from taking the Submission gold. Evermore drops motionlessly to the canvas while Craven rolls across the ring desperately trying to stand up.

Hurse now charges up behind him and jumps forward catching him by the back of the head for the bulldog. Craven shoves him off though, and sends him flying into the ropes, landing seat first on top of the middle one and bouncing chest first off the top cable. He plummets to the ring as behind Craven’s back Robin operates on mere fumes, dragging Axl up to his feet and placing him in a stunner position.

She looks intent on stealing a move from her fiancee’s playbook, rushing at the turnbuckle and stepping up it to deliver the modified Sliced Bread Number #2. As she flips backwards off of the turnbuckle, Craven steps behind Axl and catches her on top of his shoulders.

The fans are stunned as Max spins in circles, prepared to deliver the knock out blow. Before he can accomplish this though, Hurse steps up behind Craven, grabs Brooks by the ankle and pulls her down out of the DVD position. She catches Max around the neck on the way down, landing on her feet behind him and bridging him over backwards into a reverse DDT position.

She now jumps into the air, spinning around and kicking Axl to the face as she makes a full rotation before ultimately nailing a tornado reverse DDT. The back of Craven’s head connects forcefully against the canvas while Hurse steps in and grabs him by the ankle.

Brooks stands up just as Hurse lifts Max’s leg into the air and sends him rolling backwards. His shins end up landing on top of Robin’s shoulders while Hurse hooks both of Craven’s arms and lifts him up into the air. Both Brooks and Hurse now drop to their knees, hitting a tag team Lysol Injection.

Comeau: A tag team pedigree putting Craven right on top of his head. We’ve never seen that before.

Moore: Unless you go to a circus. But I don’t, because clowns frighten me.

Max is completely taken out at this point as Hurse and Brooks take his limbs and drag him towards a nearby turnbuckle. The Black Widow slips to the apron and climbs to the top rope while Hurse stretches Max’s arm out over the canvas, leaving it exposed for the shooting star press.

The crowd screams in terror, realizing what Brooks is setting up for while Hurse steps over Craven’s legs, making sure he can’t roll out of the way. Their plan goes haywire when Craven lifts his legs, wedges them to Hurse’s ribs and shoves him off back first into the ropes. The impact shakes the cables enough for Robin to loose her footing and fall seat first on top of the turnbuckle.

She squeals in pain while now hanging upside down from the turnbuckle. As Hurse bounces off of the ropes he comes charging back into Craven who jumps into the air, catching him around the neck with a front chancery and around the waist with his legs.

He drops back out of this position into a unique DDT variation. Hurse’s skull crashes violently against the canvas, his addled body rolling out of the ring while Evermore steps towards the hanging Brooks.

He wedges his shoulder to her spine and drags her out of the corner, holding her in a dominator position as he steps to the center of the ring. That’s when Craven comes charging in, catching her around the neck and hitting a running diamond cutter while Axl drops her into the dominator.

The tag team move decimates Brooks, sending her rolling to her back where Evermore hooks her legs for the pin.

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Hurse stumbles in and takes Axl around the neck, pulling him out of the pinning predicament into a front chancery as he sets for the DDT. Before he can hit the move Max rushes in, steps off his partner’s own back and hits an enzugari to the back of Hurse’s skull.

The Master of Control looses all stability as he crumbles to the canvas and Evermore turns his attention to the legal Robin. He snatches her hair, rolling her to her knees and hooking both of the arms, setting up to finish this match with that dreaded double underhook brainbuster variation.

He hoists her up into the air to uncoil his wrath only to have Brooks surprisingly float over his shoulder and land on her feet behind him. She lands right in front of Craven who steps in for a thrust kick only to have the Black Widow drop out of the way and cause his boot to travel into the back of Evermore’s skull.

Axl is knocked to the ring while Max spins around towards Robin who drags him down into the small package. The official makes the count to the screams of the audience.

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3!

NEW X-CLASS CHAMPION! Brooks has just taken back her gold, or so she thought until the referee jumps in her face correcting her.

Comeau: Robin mere milliseconds away from winning that X-Class Championship. This Double Title Match is getting me completely out of breathe.

Moore: I get the same way when watching an episode of Power Rangers.

Brooks rolls across the canvas recovering from this pure brutality. Robin doesn’t even know where she is at as she sits against the turnbuckle, which leaves her in perfect position for Craven. He comes barreling across the ring and throwing himself like a cannon ball with an upside down back first splash to the seated Brooks’ sternum.

The fans explode at the sight of Robin being crushed in the corner while Max rolls backwards to his knees. That’s when Hurse enters the ring, steps in front of Max and takes him around the neck. Before Craven can counter, Hurse rushes forward at the turnbuckle, steps off Robin’s shoulder and up the ropes then flips back into the Disinfectant.

The contra code connects and leaves Craven entirely exposed across the canvas while Hurse sits behind him in an incoherent heap. He can’t go over the cover on account of Evermore moving up behind him and wrapping his arm around his neck, placing him in a dragon sleeper.

That’s when Axl hoists Hurse up into the air, allowing him to flip over his shoulder into a reverse suplex only to drop to his seat and nail the Fully Loaded stunner. The entire arena rejoices as Hurse bounces jaw first off his rival’s shoulder and flies backwards, sprawled across the canvas. Axl rolls towards him into the lateral press.

The official flies into the scene and begins to make the count to a near riotous ovation from the crowd.

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The fans react with an incredible response as Evermore has just secured the victory for his team. He is almost about to celebrate before his world is shattered as a set of hands takes hold of his ankle and drags him off of the cover, preventing him from achieving the full three count.

Evermore’s face is enlivened with rage as he stands and stares over the ropes at the MASKED VIGILANTE.

Comeau: That son of a bitch strikes again! Why did the Masked Vigilante just get involved in this match!?!

Moore: I hope he comes by us, I got some candy to hand out to him.

Mark: He’s not a trick or treater. This bastard has just interrupted yet another hotly contested match up.

As Evermore looks on the verge of hulking out, the Masked Vigilante backs away from the ring, palms raised innocently into the air. A sluggish Hurse tries to capitalize on this distraction, stumbling up behind Evermore at the fastest speed possible.

Evermore turns in the nick of time, catches Hurse against his shoulder and back drops him over the ropes. Hurse flips over and crashes right onto the Masked Vigilante, causing both men to plummet hard to the mats. The referee takes notice of this, suspicious over the Masked man’s presence at ringside and the fact that Hurse didn’t exactly kick out of the last pinfall.

He ties two in two together and sticks his head through the ropes, ejecting the recovering Vigilante from ringside. That isn’t enough for Evermore, who turns his back to the official and begins to take off across the ring, bounce from the ropes and employ yet another high risk dive.

The crowd builds in anticipation of it as he stomps his foot and clamps his hands to get them going. As he takes the first step in his high risk gamble, Brooks slides up behind him and delivers a straight blow to his testicles. Axl doubles over, grabbing at his genitals in absolutely anguish.

Comeau: Oh come on now, there’s no need for that!

Moore: Is Robin a gynecologist?

Brooks then stands up and delivers a straight superkick to the back of Axl’s knee, crippling his leg. The bones are possibly shattered and muscles are surely ripped as Evermore crumbles to the canvas, crying out in pain from both his bruised Johnson and his debilitated leg.

Robin steps in and over the leg, lifting it into the air and locking it around the other one, she drops back into the figure four leg lock. The pain coursing through Evermore’s lower extremities is unbearable, yet he tries to fight through it, he struggles to turn Brooks over and reverse the pressure onto her own legs.

Mark: Figure four on Axl, can he hang in there? Can he keep going even with a possibly shattered leg and a damaged groin?

Craven is of no assistance to his partner, still reeling after suffering the Disinfectant just a few moments ago. Sweat streams down Axl’s contorted facial features, the amount of agony he is in is clear as day. He balls up his fists and tries not to tap out but the anguish is just too much to bear. He slaps the canvas with his outstretched palm to an explosion of boos from the sold audience.

The fans are so despondent that they fall into their seats, all hope in humanity crushed by Robin Brooks officially winning the Submission Championship, stealing it from their hometown hero.

Comeau: I don’t believe I’m about to say these words, but the Black Widow has just won the….Submission Championship. She actually forced Evermore to tap out after a low blow followed by a superkick to the knee, which may have ripped a few ligaments.

Moore: Aww, now Axl ain’t got nothin’ bright and shinny to play with. Maybe I should give him my yo-yo.

Mark: This is certainly not the closure we were expecting tonight.

Evermore is released from the hold, immediately grabbing at his knee which has suffered a great deal of damage thanks to Robin’s blatant treachery. The Black Widow is handed her ill-gotten championship, staring at the Submission title with a look of amazement.

She fixes her hair while provided a reflection and then brings the belt to her cheek, almost shedding tears upon it. Max has finally gotten control of his faculties, charging into the fray and sending Robin scampering from the ring. She slides out and falls back first against the chest of her husband.

The Masked Vigilante continues to support Hurse, who looks downright heart broken at the sight of Robin holding the Submission title over her shoulder. His lips quiver on the verge of bursting into tears.

Max drops over his tag team partner, checking on his condition as Evermore continues to cradle his wounded knees in his hands.

Comeau: I hope Robin is happy with the way that she just won the Submission Championship.

Susie: I’m sure she will hold a major fiesta to celebrate this moment. I hope there will be a piñata.

Robin throws her newly won belt over her shoulder, smiling from ear to ear and taking Hurse by his cheeks. She plants a peck on her stunned fiancée’s lips, who doesn’t reciprocate the kiss. Inside of the ring Axl slams his fist against the canvas, trying to block the pain coursing through his knee while Max kneels over him, eye vengefully locked on the new champion.


UNCLE CHRISTIAN


Sallie stares uncomfortably at her reflection. The body length mirror provides her with a full view of her figure, and the striped referee shirt that clings to it. She pulls uncomfortably on the form fitting attire, beginning to realize there is no way out of her predicament.

Dan: My God, you look stunning.

With a crocodile smile Douglas swaggers into the scene and places his palm awkwardly on her shoulder. He takes a moment to scrutinize his own reflection, examining the fine suit that adorns his husky body.

Douglas: Stripes really are flattering on you.

Sallie: Why me?

The expression on the IWC President’s face sours.

Sallie: Couldn’t you get Ingelson or someone else to do your dirty work?

Dan: My dirty work?

Sallie turns away from the mirror to face Douglas, who’s wide palms are now planted on both of her shoulders.

Douglas: You never had a problem doing my dirty work before, nothing’s changed has it?

She struggles for some type of excuse to get out of this situation.

Dan: I’m sure you still LOATHE Orlando just as much as I do, right? I mean, you’re certainly not going behind my back trying to undermine my authority by consorting with him. Why that would be almost a breach of contract, considering the only reason your employed is to make his life miserable. If that isn’t true though, then I don’t really see any reason for you to continue getting a paycheck.

Sallie: It’s just….wouldn’t Ingelson be better suited for this? You’ve got him in your back pocket for a reason.

Douglas: Silly Sallie. If I were to put Ingelson between Kingdom and Cruze, those selfish mongrels would tear him apart. Besides, putting you out there will be much more fun. Not only will it give you the opportunity to torture the Tag Champions, but it’ll show me rather or not your really still devoted to OUR cause.

Although she would like to blurt out that she clearly isn’t on board with the Conspiracy’s agenda she remains subdued. Douglas has keyed in on her hesitation.

Dan: I’d hate to think that you were being manipulated by Orlando again. The last time that happened he left you with nothing more than a bun in the oven. Did he even call you once after all those years to check in and make sure you were okay? Of course he didn’t, because he’s only concerned with himself, with his own career ambitions that you were getting in the way of.

Douglas brushes Sallie’s hair off of her shoulders and palms her cheek, turning her head enough to ensure they have eye contact.

Douglas: But tonight, you get to ruin all those grandiose plans Orlando had for his career. You get to be the harbinger of his sorrow. And you get another opportunity to make me PROUD.

Christian: Maybe she needs ANOTHER reminder of what’s at stake tonight.

Sallie is released by Dan and permitted to turn towards the World Champion who now occupies a corner of the room. He stands over the back of little Becca, his hands on both of her shoulders.

Savior: I mean it’s not only your livelihood your protecting.

The grin that forms on Christian’s face is unsettling enough to make one vomit. Becca waves affectionately towards her mother, who spins back to Douglas with an expression of horror.

Douglas: What? Is there something wrong? Your acting like you can’t trust Christian and I around your kid? Why would you be so concerned? Sure you would have a reason to be worried if she were left alone with us while you went out and intentionally botched our plans, but you wouldn’t do that, would you?

There is no more resistance left in Sallie as she lowers her head.

Sallie: No. I’ll do what I’m told.

Douglas: That’s my girl.

Christian: GREAT. Now you don’t have to end up like your friend.

Douglas slips his arm over Sallie’s shoulders and leads her towards the doorway.

Dan: Now just remember what your job is for that number one contenders match.

Sallie: I know what needs to be done.

Christian: You BETTER. All you have to do is make sure that bell doesn’t ring until there is nothing left of either Cruze or Kingdom. Your job is to make sure they annihilate each other.

Douglas: Got that dear?

Sallie: I got it. Let’s go Becca.

She holds her palm out towards her daughter who begins to step forward only to have Christian hold her in place.

Savior: She’ll be fine with Uncle Christian for now.

A tentative Sallie lingers in the doorway, staring at her daughter then back at Douglas’ eager face. After several moments she finally departs the dressing room, Dan closing the door behind her.

Christian: You should have let me deal with this Douglas. You saw how efficiently I handled the McMorris debacle.

His words strike Douglas like a bullet to the back. He shows little emotion while turning to his colleague.

Dan: Oh Ye of little faith. Trust me this once. I’ve got his taken care of. She’s a smart kid..

Dan taps his finger to his temple.

Douglas: Just like me.

All Christian can do is roll his eyes and force a smile. The brief lucidity is ended when the door is broken open and a furious, testosterone fueled Evans storms into the dressing room. A bag of ice is held to the knot on his forehead as he boils with rage.

Evans: Did you SEE what just happened to me!?!

With a furious motion Evans gestures in the general vicinity of the ring.

Pat: Where were you two!?!

Christian replies with little tact.

Christian: We had pressing business to attend to.

Douglas: We were taking care of the Orlando Cruze, Johnny Kingdom infestation once and for all.

These words do nothing to calm him.

Evans: Orlando Cruze… Johnny Kingdom!?! They’re not important, I AM, and the one who needs to be swiftly dealt with is CREED!

Nathan’s name coming from Evans’ lips sends him into such a fit that Evans punches the wall.

Dan: Creed will be dealt with tonight.

The World Champion watches the plaster tumble from the fist imprint in the wall and decides to choose his words wiser. All the while he shields his body with Becca, her mind consumed by the doll in her hand.

Savior: I’ll take care of him….partner.

Pat: That’s not good enough!

Now Douglas steps back defensively.

Douglas: Your speaking out of turn Evans…

Evans: I WANT, no, no, I NEED you to make good on your promise. You told me if I protected Savior, if I kept that World Championship around his waist, that it would be ME who gets the title shot at Paranoia VI. Now that you’ve THROWN that possibility out the window, I think it’s only fair that you give me the title shot TONIGHT.

Both the faces of Savior and Douglas simultaneously turn white.

Pat: Thank about it, it’ll basically be a handicap match, Savior and I permanently debilitate Creed, and then Savior and I fight it out to crown the Conspiracy World Champion. It’s a win, win scenario.

Savior: Just how hard was that knock on your head?

Evans’ eyes narrow on Savior’s throat.

Douglas: Give me a second to deliberate on this one. It’s a little out of the blue.

Evans: Why HESITATE. You made a promise, and you should live up to it! Give me Creed, give me my World Title shot.

Dan: I just….I can’t….I’m unable to make that happen tonight.

Without any inhibition Evans steps threatening towards his employer.

Pat: Oh, so instead of making me happy, you’re going to protect your golden boy Savior again? I’m tired of this shit.

Douglas: Well maybe if your record was a little stronger and you were proving your worth to the Conspiracy, I’d give this some serious consideration. But lately Evans, you’ve just been….useless.

He immediately wishes he had taken Savior’s approach and think before he spoke. His words send Evans into a fit, grabbing Douglas’ jacket and lifting him almost off of his feet.

Evans: What did you say to me you son of a bitch!?! I’ll rip your head off and shove it straight up Christian’s ass! You ungrateful…

He cocks back his fist before his arm is grabbed by Douglas’ private security force. Pat tries to break free but is tightly secured by the riot clad guards. A stunned Douglas steps back moving towards the World Champion.

Douglas: GET HIM OUT OF HERE! GET HIM OUT RIGHT NOW!

Christian: Toss him to the CURB!

Evans is still trying to fight free from the guards who have to use every ounce of their combined strength to force him out of the office. He is kicking and screaming all the while like a madman led to a padded room. One of the security guards has the sound mind to close the door behind him. This leaves Douglas and Christian to stand back quietly contemplating what just happened.

Savior: I think a change of plans is in order.

Savior rips the doll out of Becca’s hands and tosses it across the room in a fit of anger.


DAVID FREAK & AURORA ROSE VS. PSYCHO


“Spirit of the Underdog” blares through the speaker system and onto the stage strolls the duo affectionately dubbed the Freaks. Aurora and David saunter down the ramp with an added safety precaution thrust over Freak’s shoulder, a 2x4 wrapped in razor wire and encrusted with jagged shards of glass. The fans have a mixed reaction at the sight of this as Freak rolls into the ring under the ropes and Aurora climbs a turnbuckle, throwing up a half hearted rock gesture.

Mark: A handicap bout now on tap here at Destiny….

Moore: I wish it was liquor that was on tap. I’d drink you under the table, Comeau.

Comeau: Considering that I’m of Canadian heritage that seems pretty improbable. As you can see Freak took Psycho’s advice and has brought that 2x4 to the ring with him. I can’t believe it’s come to this. Freak and Aurora did everything they could, lobbying Psycho repeatedly to get out of this match, but in the end it was all for not.

"Dead man lying on the bottom of the grave
Wondering when Savior comes
Is he gonna be saved?"

(The crowd are in a mixed reaction as the lights dim and the stage is slightly illuminated by an eerie blue ominous glow. The 'tron' is filled with stormy clouds.)

"Maybe you're a sinner into your alternate life
Maybe you're a junker maybe you deserve to die"

(Slowly the storm on the 'tron' fades into the cold malice glare from The Sadistic One.)

"They were crying when their sons left
God is wearing black
He's gone so far to find no hope
He's never coming back
They were crying when their sons left
All young men must go
He's come so far to find the truth
He's never going home"

(Psycho slowly steps out from behind the curtain. An emotionless face captivates him as he makes his way down to the ring.)

"Young men standing on the top of their own graves
Wondering when Jesus comes
Are they gonna be saved."

(He rolls into the squared circle still basking in the mixed applause from the sold out crowd, who are unsure what to make of him.)

Comeau: Here is a man absolutely obsessed with revenge!

Moore: Just like the Punisher, only he looks a little weirder than Dolph Lungren.

Mark: This match came about because Psycho places ALL the blame for what happened to his partner Riggs, on the Freaks. After all, they were the ones who convinced Riggs to go out there and meet with Jason Wheeler, which in the end put him on the shelf.

Susie: I hope it’s a high shelf, that way he can throw down all those hard to reach items, like the Jumbo Super Absorbent Tampons.

Referee Princeton is right up in the face of David Freak, demanding that he dispatch with the weapon or be disqualified. After unleashing a sigh he holds the 2x4 out over the ropes and drops it to the mats. That’s when Aurora comes barreling towards the sociopath and throwing a right hand. It’s blocked and Psycho rebuttals with a headbunt, knocking her hard to the canvas.

David now comes charging in only to have Psycho side step him, catch the back of his head and throw him forward into the ropes. He bounces off and comes back in at his monstrous opponent who catches him with a big back drop. Freak catches tremendous height, swinging his arms in an attempt to fly before he ultimately crashes down to the canvas.

He grips at his kidneys and rolls towards the ropes while a stunned Aurora stands up only to be nailed with a diving shoulder block from the airborne sociopath.

Aurora tumbles to the canvas and rolls out of the ring on the opposite side as her husband. David has also ended up on the outside mats, he and his wife circling the ring as they form a new strategy for attack. Psycho turns in circles, observing both competitors with an equal degree of malice.

Mark: Things not going smoothly for either Aurora or David thus far.

Moore: They should use that little buddy they brought to ringside.

It appears that Rose has heard Susie’s advice, and for the first time in Moore’s life, someone is actually taking it. Aurora snatches up the 2x4, holding it above her head to make sure Psycho seems it in her clutches. He then storms towards her, ready to uncoil his wrath. The distraction pays off in spades as David slips into the ring behind his opponent and clobbers him over the upper back with a forearm strike.

Psycho falls to a knee as David begins to stomp at the back of his skull repeatedly. He then proceeds to deliver a series of vicious clubbing blows with both arms.

Comeau: Aurora’s distraction proving costly for Psycho, who is now at the mercy of his opponents.

Psycho keeps kneeling as he’s pulverize by his opposition, Aurora climbing the apron to begrudgingly get in on the beat-down. That’s when David places Psycho in a front chancery, setting up for a DDT only to have the big man wedge his hands to Freak’s ribs and shove him backwards right into the ropes and right into Aurora.

Rose is knocked from the apron and sent crashing to the mats while David’s momentum carries him into Psycho, who catches his inbound opponent around the waist then throws him overhead with a belly to belly suplex.

A stunned David flips through the air, ultimately colliding with the canvas hard across his spine. He reaches for his kidneys while rolling to his feet when Psycho charges in and nails him across the throat with a lariat. Freak tumbles right back down to the ring but quickly rolls back to his feet only to have Psycho charge in and employ his head like a battering ram.

Psycho drives the hard top of his skull into Freak’s ribs, launching him backwards across the ring and through the ropes.

David flips over sideways, landing on his feet beside Aurora, who catches her husband and keeps him from collapsing. The duo stares repugnantly at Psycho, who crouches while urging them to bring it.

Comeau: And the Freaks still unable to so much as get out of the gates here. Psycho is more motivated than I’ve seen him in a long, loooong time.

Moore: He must have had like thirty Mr. Pibbs before this match.

Once again Aurora and David are forced to rethink their gameplan, strategizing on how to get the better of their brutish opponent. They slowly approach the ring, unable to reach a consensus. Psycho storms towards them with no more patience when David and Aurora reach under the ropes and grab him by the ankles, pulling his feet out from under him.

They drag on the ankles and slide Psycho to the outside of the ring, the sadist ending up between them. Freak now lays into his scarred face with rights while Aurora blasts him to the upper back with forearm strikes. Rose then jumps to the apron and urges David to spin Psycho around, which he does by delivering a thunderous right to his jaw.

Psycho spins slowly towards Aurora who dives off the apron into a crossbody. To her dismay she’s caught across the thick sternum of the menacing mass, leaving her in position to be easily crippled by her foe. He turns towards Freak before finishing Aurora off, only to be stunned as David rushes across the apron and dives off into a forward flipping senton.

He crashes back first into Aurora’s spine and into Psycho’s face, knocking all three combatants to the mats.

Comeau: Freak and Rose FINALLY taking Psycho out, but can they maintain this advantage?

Moore: Haven’t they learned anything from cartoons? All they need to do is throw down a few banana peels, Psycho will slip on it and knock himself out, then much hilarity shall ensue.

The fans have mixed emotions over Psycho being taken down as he tries feebly to stand back up. That’s when Aurora, gripping at her kidneys in pain, and David step to opposite sides of their opponent. They both take a clump of his hair and charge him forward face first into the exposed steel turnbuckle post.

His body bounces off of the steel as he twists sideways and falls into the barrier. His ribs crack against the steel and he eventually falls seat first into a conveniently positioned chair situated in the corner of two perpendicular barricades. Aurora promptly grabs her husband’s wrist and whips him at Psycho as Freak dives forward into a dropkick.

Psycho’s face becomes sandwiched between David’s boots the barricade, causing even greater head trauma. Freak quickly rolls to his feet and shouts for Aurora, who comes barreling forward before she is caught under the thighs and thrown over her husband’s head.

She flies through the air and eventually hits a front dropkick to Psycho’s cranium as well.

Comeau: What offense employed on Psycho. A succession of dropkicks hitting their mark.

Moore: Think God that I have my own Mark, who I can hit any time I want. HIIIIYAHHH!

Mark: OW! You know I’m not wearing a cup.

Aurora is assisted to her feet by her husband before the couple continues their decimation of the psychopath. They both grab a clump of his hair and pull him towards the ring, rolling his addled body in under the ropes. Psycho ends up on his knees, trying to shake off the numerous blows he’s withstood to his head.

Neither Freak nor Aurora are willing to let any recovery to take place, David already charging in and delivering a swift boot to Psycho’s jaw. The tooth shattering kick sends Psycho into a spin, turning his back to Rose who jumps into the air, snatches him by the back of the head and pulls him down into the reverse neckbeaker.

Psycho begins to convulse before David comes diving in with a standing frog splash. He lands on top of Psycho’s chest, hooking one of the enormous legs.

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Psycho gets his shoulder up, preventing near defeat. Aurora quickly scoots in and locks her arms around her opponent’s throat, applying a rear chin lock. She even goes as far to as to wedge her knee to his lower spine, inflicting greater punishment.

David steps behind Aurora, reaching around her and taking each of Psycho’s wrists. He leans in reverse, pulling back on the arms and almost ripping them from their sockets with a surfboard variation while his wife crouches in front of him, applying a rear chin-lock.

Mark: This is interesting.

Moore: Yeah, I wonder who they’ll vote off next.

Comeau: Put that TV away and stop watching American Idol.

Susie: But I worship Randy Jackson.

Psycho grates his teeth as he finds himself in this unique predicament, unable to escape the two simultaneous holds from his opponents. Despite his anguish the big man slowly commences towards his feet, trying feebly to fight out of both holds.

He’s just gotten to a knee when David yells at Aurora to get out of the way. She breaks the rear chin-lock and rolls under her husband’s arms before Freak flips forward, catching Psycho under the pits and pulling him down into a flip over unprettier.

Psycho’s brain bounces against bone as he rolls to his back, left in a prone position for his adversaries. Freak turns his back on the disfigured sociopath as Aurora charges forward, jumps into the air, reaches back with her legs and wraps them around her husband’s waist.

It doesn’t require much of his strength to hoist Rose up into a wheelbarrow, turning towards the laid out Psycho and then pushing his wife down viciously onto him with a splash. She rolls out of the way after connecting while David slips through the cables onto the apron, springs to the top rope then soars through the air with a flying leg drop.

His leg nails Psycho hard to his throat, causing him to writhe in utter anguish. Aurora scrambles into the lateral press, wedging her arm into their opponent’s red jugular.

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Psycho gathers the strength to kick out, his thick arm launching from the canvas. That’s when Aurora stands up, swings around this very arm, clamps her legs about his bicep and falls into a grapevine submission hold.

At that exact same moment David steps over Psycho’s other arm, wraps his legs around it and applies his own grapevine.

Comeau: I don’t even know what to call THIS!

A stunned Psycho finds himself laid out on the canvas with both Freak and Aurora holding onto simultaneous grapevines. Escape seems impossible at this point while Psycho bites his lower lip, almost to the point where blood begins to spill. He gently rocks his frame, attempting to get out of this predicament, but all hope appears to be lost.

Mark: I can’t think of anyway that Psycho will be able to escape this tandem submission.

Moore: An act of God?

Comeau: Oookay, that’s a possibility.

The flesh of Psycho’s face has turned a bright red shade as he tries to pull himself with just the use of his feet towards the ropes. Unfortunately they are too far away, leaving him trapped with no possibility of parole. Some of the fans are trying to rally behind the legendary IWC competitor, but even their words can’t get him out of TWO holds at once.

Mark: You have to give to the Freaks, there’s no way possible for any opponent to escape something like this.

Psycho’s eyes are almost steaming, his skin boiling as he tries to muster the energy to reach the ropes. Somehow, despite the greatest of odds, Psycho’s heel catches the bottom rope, serving as his salvation from these holds. David breaks the hold and burns a hole through the official with his gaze.

He and Aurora aren’t about to have their plans derailed though. They quickly take hold of Psycho’s wrists and begins to drag him back towards the center of the ring, presumably to reapply their tandem holds. That’s when Psycho sits up and employs all the strength in his arms to pull both his opponents down into modified arm-drags.

Psycho ends up crossing his arms over his sternum as he delivers the move but finds himself stunned when BOTH David and Aurora cartwheel past each other right back to their feet. The double counter to the arm-drags proves very costly for the Sadistic One, as his opponents place their arms over each other’s shoulders and dive forward into a double front dropkick.

All four boots meet with an equal amount of force against Psycho’s forehead, rattling his brain. He falls to his back left in perfect position for the onslaught to continue.

Comeau: That move backfired on the Sadistic Savage in a BIG way.

Moore: Bigger than my nipples.

Aurora and David rise to their feet and begin to talk amongst each other, developing yet another strategy. They motion repeatedly to the legs of their opponent. They now approach the damaged Psycho and each take hold of one of his legs, perhaps setting up for a double submission hold.

Unfortunately they can’t decide rather they should apply a stereo Boston Crab, or some variation of the figure four. Their argument is cut abruptly short when Psycho bends his knee, doubling both his opponents over then reaches out and slaps his palms around their throats.

Screams are elicited from the Manhattan Center crowd as Psycho sluggishly rises to his feet, David and Aurora desperately trying to free themselves. They are choked maliciously by the wide palms of their rival and there seems to be no avail from the impending stereo chokeslam.

The demented madman hoists them simultaneously into the air for the double chokeslam when they shockingly slip free from his palms at the side time. They land on their feet behind the Sadistic One, then they try to build momentum by scurrying towards the ropes.

Aurora and Freak ricochet towards Psycho who turns just in time to move forward for the double chokeslam. Aurora ducks one of Psycho’s arm, but her husband is not so lucky, almost being beheaded with a lariat. David finds himself laid out while Rose continues onward into the opposite ropes, bouncing off and coming back in at her opponent’s backside.

Psycho spins quickly around and catches Aurora by her chest and stomach, throwing her up high into the air with a press then pushing her down right on top of her husband.

Rose splashes David after coming down from a tremendous height, leaving them both in a state of great anguish. Rose sluggishly starts to stand, her ribs throbbing before Psycho spins her around, hoists her into the air and this time scoop-slams her on top of David.

Now both sides of Aurora radiate pain, her gut and her lower back twisted by these slams onto her husband. Freak’s eyes are fluttering as he tries to remain conscious, which doesn’t seem like an achievable task, especially when Psycho lunges into the air, crashing down onto his chest with a back first senton splash.

Freak flops around yet again, unable to save his wife from a similar fate. Psycho gets up, charges at the laid out Aurora and nails a SECOND back first senton splash, this time right across her lower back.

Comeau: Psycho back in the game.

Moore: I hope he gets a sidekick like Luigi.

Mark: I know I’d rather be saddled with an Italian stereotype as MY sidekick.

It feels like Aurora’s spine has been turned into a fine white powder as Psycho drags her up and then takes her wrist, sending her charging into the turnbuckle. She crashes against it forcefully as Psycho steps in and begins to stomp her repeatedly to the ribs while also throwing some elbows against her jaw.

He has no idea that David has recovered behind him, stumbling around and trying to get his bearings straight. David’s eyes lock on Psycho’s backside, bringing a disturbed grin to his face as he charges in and jumps high into the air. The hairs on the back of Psycho’s neck tingle, causing him to step out of the way and cause Freak to big splash his own wife.

David lands on his feet and steps back, looking into the pain on Aurora’s face sympathetically. He grabs the top of his head, his jaw dropped in shock. Before he can utter so much as an apology, Psycho comes barreling up behind them, lunging into the air and hitting a big splash of his own.

He drives Freak forcefully into his wife, squashing them together like two pieces of bread on a sandwich. David then tumbles to the canvas while Psycho rushes into the far ropes, bounces off, rushes back at the surprisingly still upright Aurora and throws himself back first into her ribs. The inverted big splash knocks Aurora to her seat against the canvas.

It’s at this point Psycho slowly rotates towards Aurora, almost salivating at the mouth over her perfect placement. He steps in and wedges his foot against her jaw, motioning for the fans to get up. Some cheer as Psycho hits a face wash on Aurora’s beautiful features.

Mark: Oh no, Psycho is going to grate Aurora’s face off with a face wash.

Moore: I get to keep the face if he does knock it off. That way I can wear an Aurora Rose costume for the next Halloween.

Psycho takes off to the opposite set of ropes, bouncing off and building moment for the final face wash. Just as the Sadistic One is about to butcher Aurora, David dives into the fray, dropkicking him to his knee and knocking his legs out from under him.

An angered Psycho slowly starts to get up, reaching a kneeling base when David rushes in and delivers a shinning knee strike directly to the side of his skull. The collision to the temple of the big man sends him twisting into the ropes, falling chest first over the middle one.

Somehow he remains upright long enough for David to collect his wife and give her some instructions. Aurora sluggishly approaches a far turnbuckle as David bolts towards their prone opponent. He connects to Psycho’s dismay with a 61-KNEE. His kneecap slams against the sociopath’s forehead, surprisingly knocking him to his feet albeit spiraling backwards.

The moment he turns towards the opposite side of the ring Aurora springs off the top rope, flies at Psycho and lands knees first on top of his sternum. Psycho crashes to his back with Rose coming down knees first on top of him, almost shattering his chest in the process.

Comeau: Psycho getting it from all sides.

Moore: The same thing happens to me during an orgy.

David desperately hurls himself into a lateral press, the hand slapping the canvas sounding like a heavenly harmony.

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Psycho again launches his shoulder from the ring, preventing the three count and sending Freak into an irrational fit. Aurora steps in and tries to calm her husband down, placing her hands to his chest then patting him reassuringly on the shoulders.

Freak is still trying to maintain his cool even in the face of Psycho’s sheer stubbornness. Rose now approaches a turnbuckle, setting up for something big as David turns his focus back on the slowly recovering Psycho. A series of right hands nail Psycho to his jaw and temple, disorientating him greater than ever before.

He now takes hold of Psycho’s bangs, beginning to drag him towards the corner where Aurora anxiously waits. That’s when Psycho suddenly frees his hair, grabs David by the wrist and pulls him into a fireman’s carry. David is trying to fight free but can’t get out of this harrowing predicament.

Aurora now dives in to save her husband, landing on top of his shoulders. The Freaks are stunned to find that they are both stretched over Psycho’s shoulders in a fireman’s carry and are powerless to do anything as they are hit with a double death valley driver.

Comeau: Quick thinking by Psycho may have taken out both opponents!

Moore: He’s the million dollar man with the chartreuse tan.

Mark: I told you to start ripping off Cole again, PLEASE!

Aurora and David convulse on the canvas side by side while Psycho crawls towards them. He throws himself over Freak’s chest, going for the pinfall.

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David kicks out, just barely getting his shoulder off of the canvas before he could be defeated. After the kick out Psycho rolls sideways across the canvas and ends up right on top of Aurora, hooking her leg in the process.

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Now Aurora musters the strength to get a shoulder up, preventing near disaster and keeping her team alive.

Mark: Psycho once again ALMOST picking up the win off a double death valley driver. The action in this match is off the charts.

Moore: I had a hit single that was on the Billboard Charts once, it was five minutes of me farting, the audience mistook it for a Britney Spears song.

Psycho grabs Rose’s hair and leads her up to her feet. She can barely hold herself up before Psycho charges her across the ring and pitches her over the ropes. Aurora somehow grabs the top cable as she soars over them, transitioning her body to land gracefully on the apron.

She starts to stand, realizing that she has Psycho in perfect position, the burnt brute’s back directed towards her. Aurora is just about to spring to the top rope when Psycho lunges into the air, flipping over sideways into a knee strike that nails Rose right in the forehead.

She is stunned as she tumbles off of the apron and splats back first across the outside mats. There she lays almost completely devoid of all life while in the ring Psycho is slowly getting back to his feet. The IWC legend has no idea that behind his back, Freak has reached to the outside of the ring and grabbed the 2x4 wrapped in barbwire.

He brings his upper body back into the ring and stares at his reflection in the glass shards. His eyes bat awkwardly, perhaps suffering a crisis of conscious as he stares into the weapon. He wonders if he should truly resort to Psycho’s barbaric tactics, if he should really employ such deceitful means to secure a victory.

Mark: Freak has got that weapon, but is he prepared to use it?

Susie: Don’t hesitate, be like me when I get a new can of pepper spray, just squirt it in EVERYONE’S eyes!

David continues to back peddle, staring longingly into the weapon before shaking his head “no.” He refuses to utilize the weapon, he refuses to sell out as he turns to hand the destructive tool back to the referee. Unfortunately he finds himself instead faced with Psycho, who stares down at the weapon in his hands then back up into David’s stunned face.

Psycho: I KNEW IT!

Freak glances down at the weapon then back up into Freak’s face, shaking his head, trying to explain himself. Psycho doesn’t buy it as he delivers a vicious uppercut shot to his opponent’s jaw, knocking him forcefully to the ring and sending the weapon flying from his hands.

Mark: It looked like David had a change of heart, but Psycho thought he was going to try and use that weapon. David just can’t win.

Susie: Just like me when I’m playing Battleship, although most the times I’m playing myself and their still stalemates.

Comeau: How can you possibly have a stalemate in Battle…you know what, I’m not even surprised anymore.

Psycho kicks the 2x4 out of the ring and then steps up behind Freak, grabbing him by the ear as he leads him up to his feet. The depraved soul takes his victim around the neck, setting for the Psychotic Episode as he hoists David into the air. That’s when Freak surprisingly reaches back with his legs, wrapping them around Psycho’s waist then falling forward.

Psycho is ill-prepared for this counter as he’s rolled up into a pinfall. David sits on his chest and holds down on the back of his legs while the ref makes the count.

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3!

Mark: HOLY SHIT! Freak has done it.

David rolls backwards and to his feet, his stunned eyes darting back and forth. He runs his hands through his hair, having absolutely no idea how this just happened or what he should do next. Once he sees Psycho getting up and boiling with rage, his choices become limited, there’s no time to celebrate the victory so he dashes from the ring.

Comeau: David Freak and Aurora Rose picking up a shocker of a victory against the legendary Psycho. This is not going to put them back in his good graces AT ALL.

Susie: They’ll have to move into an underground bomb shelter or something. Which also comes in handy in the event of zombie invasions.

Mark: Wonderful. But I have a feeling that neither David or Aurora are in for anything they deem wonderful in the future.

Aurora is shocked as she’s dragged to her feet and led up the ramp, the two of them staring into the ring at a kneeling Psycho. Instead of being upset Psycho merely laughs and shake his lowered head. His chilling eyes raise and take in both Freak and Rose.

Psycho: You two have no idea what you’ve done. Hahahahaha.

David noticeably gulps as he hears this and hastens his retreat, dragging Aurora along behind him. Psycho’s demonic laughter bellows throughout the Manhattan Center, sending a chill up the spines of everyone who hears it.


FATES INTERTWINED


An incoherent Creed almost seems to be mumbling to himself as he steps down the corridor. The time till his World title match is rapidly fading away, now literally moments away from risking fate and either realizing his potential or crashing and burning. All of this weighs heavier on his mind than the steel pipe thrust over his shoulder.

Orlando: You’ve been a busy man.

The cheers from the crowd echo throughout the backstage corridors as the Icon steps face to face with the Future. The long time friends and tag team partners exchange a quick handshake, the presence of his friend lightening Creed’s mood only slightly.

Cruze: And you’ve still got your work cut out for you tonight.

Nathan: Oh but your wrong bud, because work isn’t something you enjoy.

Creed slaps the pipe against his empty palm, relishing at the thought of bashing Savior’s brains into a mushy puddle of tissue.

Orlando: I know how you feel, I personally can’t wait to get Kingdom in that ring and settle this once and for all.

Creed: Believe me, I’ll have my eyes on that match.

Cruze: No doubt, but listen bro, I know how emotional you must be right now…

A crazed glint overwhelms Creed’s eyes, offended by Orlando’s attempts to sympathize.

Nathan: You do, huh?

Cruze extends his hand and places it on Creed’s unstable shoulders.

Orlando: Granted Savior never broke Kloe’s arm with a chair but he did kidnap my children. I know how homicidal he can make you. But what he does, he does for a reason.

All Creed can do is listen as his upper lip trembles in rage.

Cruze: He wanted to make you this insane, he wanted to send you on the warpath tonight. The Conspiracy is looking for anyway possible to retain that World Championship, including getting you to intentionally disqualify yourself. Now I know your angry, but you got to keep your emotions in check.

Creed: That’s easy for you to say.

Orlando: Are you kidding me? I want to do nothing less than go out there and permanently handicap both Kingdom and Savior, but letting my emotion get the better of me isn’t going to solve a thing. All it does is leave you more vulnerable. So don’t let your destiny….no, no…. I mean, OUR destiny be derailed based on some technicality..

Creed knows his friend is speaking the truth, but it doesn’t make things any easier to bear. He looks down at the ground, unable to stare at his wise associate any longer.

Cruze: You worked too hard for this Creed, don’t LET the Conspiracy manipulate you into losing it.

Nathan: I know.

Orlando: Like you said bro, it’s your FATE to walk away as World Champion tonight, and it’s mine to become number one contender. Everything that Douglas put us through to keep us away from the gold will come back to bite him in his fat ass. It all comes full circle right here, right now, on THIS night.

Creed: Uh-huh.

There is still little emotion behind Creed’s speech.

Cruze: We’ve spent years FIGHTING, we’ve spent years TEAMING….

Orlando lifts his hand into the camera’s frame, using his IWC Tag Title belt as a visual aid.

Orlando: Do you remember how long we held these things!?! What we experienced as a team, overcoming Riddick and Savior in the Cage, battling the BEST tandems night in and night out, enduring misery each and every week so we could live out our dream of being Tag Team Champions?

The title was lowered once Cruze was ensured that he had his old friends undivided attention.

Cruze: We’ve satisfied our goals and now it’s time for us to fulfill one last fantasy. A fantasy we’ve shared for SIX of the toughest years of our lives, SIX years of beat downs, betrayals, bloodbaths and everything in between! Do you remember that fantasy? I’ll remind you, it was to face each other in the main event to Paranoia ONE ON ONE with the World title on the line.

Nathan closes his eyes and visualizes it.

Orlando: I’m not about to let Kingdom or ANYONE else get in the way of making that dream a reality, and that includes you.

On that note Orlando backs away, leaving his partner to contemplate what he’s just heard. He takes the pipe away from his shoulder and examines it closely, wondering if he wants the title more than he wants Savior’s blood. Every time that the image of Krissie pleading for help enters his head it reaffirms his primary motivation. He squeezes the pipe even tighter as he takes off down the corridor.


SHIN IWATE VS. JUSTIN DAVIS
CARTEL TITLE SHOWDOWN


The fans are so repulsed they would rather eat their week old gym socks when “Freak Show” commences through the speakers, coinciding with the arrival of Shin Iwate. On this occasion the man of Japanese ancestry doesn’t come alone, flanked by a number of security guards. He takes his time moving towards the ring, dressed in his wrestling attire strictly as a safety precaution, and clinging to a microphone in case he has something to get off his chest.

He continues towards the ring and up the stairs while Douglas’ private security force begin to surround the squared circle. They beat their batons against their palms, ensuring that peace is maintained, or at least the closest thing to it here in the IWC.

Mark: We’re ready for this showdown between Shin Iwate and Justin Davis to finally end all the chaos and controversy that has swirled around the Cartel Championship for over a year now. Justin Davis kidnapped the belt several weeks ago and Iwate has stated that he’ll either return it to him tonight, or face legal action.

Moore: Davis will probably be slapped on the hand with a ruler from a long line of angry nuns.

Comeau: Stranger things have happened.

The stoic Iwate slowly raises the microphone to his lips amongst a piercing mixed reaction from the crowd.

Shin: Do you people think I wanted this?

He pauses to actually listen to their response, which is a mixed bag of boos, cheers and muddled screams.

Iwate: I had NO interest in the Cartel title, or Davis, but they both made THEMSELVES targets. Instead of allowing me to accomplish my goals they decided to get in my way. They fired the first shot, they interfered with MY plans, and as thus they’ve suffered, and will CONTINUE to suffer here tonight.

The maniacal glint inhabiting his soulless eyes adds credence to his threatening words.

Moore: I bet they will. Chinese people know a lot about torture, and making cookies.

Mark: You do realize he’s Japanese right?

Susie: REALLY!?! Japanese people come from Korea right?

Comeau: I’ll get out the globe later, for now, just listen.

Shin continues with his disturbed diatribe.

Shin: I didn’t want to bring security out here, but the odious Douglas demanded it. I didn’t want to FORCE Davis to hand over the title under these means, again, that was Douglas’ decree. I’d much rather torture and torment Justin on levels he never thought imaginable, in a singles match. Sadly my hands have been tied, since he refuses to sign a contract I cannot legally face him tonight, and do many illegal things to him. But while America’s laws protect Davis, they also favor me.

The corners of his mouth twitch, trying to form a smile.

Iwate: If I can’t face him, if Douglas insists on keeping us apart to protect himself from a lawsuit, then at the very least I can take solace in the fact that Justin HAS to bring back my belt or face imprisonment for his actions. Of course, imprisonment would be FAR more humane than anything I could ever do to him.

His attention shifts to the entrance way, forcing the crowd to look up the ramp as well. Iwate steps towards the ropes and gestures with an open palm towards the swaying curtains.

Shin: Davis, you’ve got two options. Either bring my belt out here, hand it over and end this farce, or deny me my property and incur tortures unlike anything you’ve experienced before. Who knows, maybe I’ll get to you before these slow minded American police officers ever could. Then incarceration will be the least of your concerns….

“Soulfire” by 12 Stones hits the PA system. The crowd is stunned at the sound of these lyrics which intrude on Iwate’s rambles. Without much delay SCW’s Justin Davis actually emerges onto the stage, bringing along his new partner in crime, the Cartel Championship. It glistens around his waist, but instead of bearing the IWC initials, a “SCW” sticker has been slapped over it.

Comeau: Well Davis showing me that he has more character than I gave him credit for. He’s actually showing up here tonight.

Moore: And that evil, manipulative, diabolical belt is with him.

Mark: Stay in your seat Susie.

Susie: If it had eyes I’d claw them out right now.

Comeau: This situation only becoming more intense. Let’s see if Davis will actually have the decency to turn over that belt.

Justin continues to show little concern for Iwate’s threats, actually smiling in the unsettling champion’s direction.

Davis: I want you to take a minute to listen, Mr. Roboto, because maybe something enlightening will actually get through your skull for once.

Instead of outwardly displaying any anger or disgust, Shin’s features remain as frozen as an old man with a new botox injection.

Justin: Maybe you haven’t gotten use to customs on this half of the hemisphere yet, or you would realize that Americans don’t respond to threats. So you can stand up there and talk about torture till the cows come home, because nothing, no law suits, no idle threats, are going to make me return this belt to you.

Davis slaps the Cartel Title belt then points into the stoic features of Iwate.

Davis: But there is a method to my madness, there’s a reason I won’t hand this title to you, or anyone else in the IWC for that matter. It’s because nobody, not the main eventers, not the mid-carders, and certainly not curtain jerkers like yourself, deserve any type of title. Nobody in the IWC has the talent, the virtue, or the work ethic to be a TRUE champion.

This statement is met with a thunderous round of boos from the Manhattan Center, not taking likely to Davis trashing their stars.

Justin: Letting you guys have titles cheapens REAL championships like the SCW World Heavyweight and Underground titles. Having all of you walk around with your TWENTY titles is an embarrassment for REAL champions who have to work, and fight, and strive to win meaningful gold. I can’t let men like you disgrace what hardworking champions like myself have fought so hard to legitimize. I can’t in good conscious, allow you and others to refer to yourselves as champions, it completely tarnishes the whole ideal of what a champion is suppose to be.

Mark: Oh blow it out your ass already.

Moore: I tried that once, I was in the hospital for a month.

Justin casually strolls across the stage with the impunity of a lone rooster in a hen-house.

Davis: So…NO….I won’t be giving back this belt, and you shouldn’t want me to Iwate. Because now I can take it to SCW and make it into a REAL title. I can give it some actual legitimacy, by keeping people like you from further tarnishing it, as well as the ideal of what a champion should be. So go ahead and send lawyers after me, because I can assure you that the SCW has a crack legal team at their beckon call 24/7, and they’ll gladly back me in returning honor to champions all around the world.

The fans are so outraged they want to jump the barricades. Iwate however, just watches Davis through half closed eyes, day dreaming the tortures he would like to subject Justin to.

Justin: So I’ll be leaving now and I’ll be taking the Cartel title to SCW with me, where it’ll be given a less ridiculous name and be injected with some prestige. I’ll come back shortly for the rest of those belts this roster has no business holding.

The smug Justin slowly begins to back towards the curtains only to find himself surprised by the monstrous Psycho. He rushes through the curtains and snatches hold of the back of Davis’ head and pants, dragging him down the ramp, right past security and then rolling him into the ring.

Comeau: All right! Psycho has just forced Davis into the ring. He must have been as sickened by Davis’ claims as the rest of us.

Susie: The only thing that makes me sick is Martha Stewart.

Davis scrambles back to his feet and towards the ropes, burning a hole through Psycho with his gaze. The scarred superstar backs away from the ring, shouting something at the disorientated Davis.

Psycho: Not in MY house!

The exchanged of angered glares persists as Iwate slowly steps up behind the SCW star, tapping him on the shoulder. Justin had completely forgotten that Shin was looming behind him, and is given a cruel reminder the moment he turns around.

Iwate: To hell with Douglas.

Shin slaps Davis hard across the jaw, knocking him backwards into the ropes. He now kicks Justin to his ribs and takes him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring. A stunned Justin rushes into the opposite cables, bounces off and comes back in at Iwate who charges elbow first into his skull with a running atomic elbow.

The blow has Justin reeling as he falls to the canvas and scrambles back to his feet.

Mark: Shin taking it to Justin. He warned him and now it’s time for Iwate to make good on his threats. No potential lawsuits could keep these two apart.

Moore: That’s the same excuse my stalkers use.

Justin desperately tries to recover, standing up albeit hunched forward. That’s when Iwate steps in and delivers a hard punt like kick to his chest. The impact causes Justin to stand up straight and leaves him in perfect position for a hard spinning shin kick straight to his sternum.

The bone breaking kick knocks Davis to his back, where he rolls around desperately trying to recover. Iwate steps up behind him and tries to unclamp the Cartel title from around the invader’s waist. Justin holds onto the belt though and keeps it from being removed before he reaches back and grabs hold of Shin’s ankle, lifting up on it.

Iwate falls to his back as Justin rolls towards him, slapping on a side headlock then pulverizing him with right hands to the face. Shin desperately tries to protect himself from this barrage of right hands, but is unable to prevent this brutality from being inflicted.

Davis rushes to his feet and jumps into the air, coming down elbow first against Iwate’s sternum. He rolls to his feet and then drops a second elbow before standing and hitting a third, then a fourth. As he stands up and prepares to deliver a fifth dreaded elbow drop he instead stops and brushes off the fans. Amongst a roar of anger from the audience, Justin saunters towards the ropes, looking to leave the ring.

He sticks his head through the cables to depart only to have the riot clad security force step in his impending path. They grip their batons tightly, ready to use them if Justin so much as even contemplates exiting the ring.

Comeau: Security doing the right thing for once, keeping Davis from leaving the ring. Even they had to be repulsed by Justin’s speech.

Moore: I’m repulsed by his hair, I don’t know how he gets it blonder than mine.

Justin steps back and shouts at the security who form a human wall in front of the rampway.

Davis: You guys are going to be working in a mall when SCW’s legal team is through with you.

Realizing that his threats have fallen on deaf ears, Davis turns his attention back towards the struggling Iwate. The moment that Shin gets up Justin charges in and levels him with a lariat. Both men fall to the canvas with Davis landing on his knees beside the Asian athlete.

He then scoots in and wraps his hands around Shin’s throat, strangling the very life out of his body. There is no referee to stop this blatant cheating, forcing Iwate to find his own way out of this predicament. He leans back and launches his leg into the air, delivering a swift kick to the back of Justin’s head.

The stiff strike causes Davis to break his illegal choke-hold and roll across the canvas towards the ropes. He ends up falling against them gripping at his battered noggin, but doesn’t stay down for long. He gets to his feet as Iwate attempts to do the same, but does so much slower than the SCW star.

Shin just gets upright when Davis rushes in for a beheading clothesline. This time Shin ducks the inbound arm and grabs hold of it, trying to drag his opposition down into the arm bar. Davis falls to a knee, realizing the urgency of this situation given Iwate’s perfection of the armlock.

All Justin can do is drop into a forward roll, freeing himself from the arm bar predicament but leaving his wrist still gripping in Shin’s hands. As Davis scrambles to his feet Iwate tugs on the arm and drags him forward into a piledriver position.

It appears that he’s already setting up for the Forbidden Suplex.

Mark: Davis about to be hit with the Forbidden Suplex and have that Cartel title taken off of him.

Davis transitions his body, pulls Iwate into his shoulders and drops back into a Samoan Slam. Iwate’s frame crashes against the canvas brutally while Justin sits up, still protecting the Cartel title around his waist. He now grabs hold of Iwate’s hair, rolls him to his knees and slaps on a front chancery.

The fans are jumping all over Davis as he hoists Iwate up into the air, looking for the Lip Sealer. He walks around displaying his dominance over Iwate who is held upside down for several moments, about to be turned into a cutter. As he makes the rotation to drop down into a diamond cutter variation Iwate shockingly slips free.

He ends up dropping to his feet right behind Davis then grabbing at the Cartel title strap, again trying to unfasten it. Justin nails him to the eye with a back elbow, breaking up his attempt at removing the belt. It’s at this point that Shin instead jumps high into the air, landing on Davis’ shoulders for a hurricarana.

Unfortunately for him and the IWC lockeroom, Davis rushes forward and drops into a sit-out powerbomb. Iwate is driven violently into the canvas across his back, leaving him convulsing across the canvas. It’s at this point that Davis stands back up and demands that security clear out of his way, insisting that he’s brutalized Iwate enough already.

They refuse to budge.

Comeau: Davis trying to get out of the ring while Iwate is down, but security still not letting him leave with that Cartel Title still around his waist. But there may not be much left of Shin to give him any type of fight.

Susie: Do you got any loose change? Maybe if we put a quarter in Iwate’s back he’ll be rejuvenated.

Shin is starting to stand up, his body aching as he turns towards Davis and walks right into the superkick under the jaw. The swift kick almost shatters his teeth and sends him tumbling to the ring, sprawled out completely. The riot gear clad guards watch Iwate’s predicament closely as Davis steps right onto his throat.

He pushes down on his knee to provide even greater force on the blatant choke. Shin gasps for air as his face turns a bright shade of red. Davis then takes his foot from the throat and scrapes his boot right across Iwate’s forehead.

Shin sits up grabbing at his throat and his skull before Davis takes him by the hair, slowly rolling him to his feet.

Davis: Do you people see? This illustrates my point perfectly. No one in this company deserves to hold gold.

Justin slaps the golden plate of the Cartel Championship then begins to deliver knee strikes to Shin’s face. He takes him around the back of the head, hitting jumping knee strike, after jumping knee strike to his rival’s skull. He lunges into the air to drill Iwate to the face with both knees at this point only to have his legs caught and swept out from under him.

This move catches Davis completely off guard as he falls to his back, has both his legs hooked and is then catapulted through the air, face first into the turnbuckle.

Comeau: This is just what Shin needed to get back in this impromptu fight.

Moore: He’s got the mentality of a Korean dictator.

Mark: I’m only going to say this one more time. He is JAPANESE!

A discombobulated Davis begins to stagger backwards, looking as if he’s been rendered brain dead by the impact with the corner. That’s when Iwate lunges into the air behind him, landing on the back of his shoulders then twisting around his cranium and dropping back into a hurricarana.

Justin is launched face first into the middle turnbuckle pad, his skull bouncing off it forcefully. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he stands up and Iwate moves behind him, clamping on a side headlock. The audience is surprisingly rallied behind Iwate who rushes at the turnbuckle, steps up it and goes for a tornado bulldog.

To his dismay however, Davis wedges his hands to Shin’s back and throws him off the side headlock. Shin is sent flying over the ropes and crashing down on top of several of the security guards outside of the ring. The guards were caught completely unaware as they tumble to the mats with Iwate coming down right along with them.

Mark: Iwate thrown like a ragdoll on top of security! This gives Davis the perfect opportunity to escape with that Cartel title.

Moore: This better not turn into one of those Thelma and Louise escape scenes with Davis and the Cartel title driving off into the sunset.

Justin catches his breath only briefly before rolling out of the ring and beginning to take off up the ramp with the belt in tow. That’s when he spots something on the ground beneath his feet, causing him to stop abruptly. A smile begins to take over half of his face as he slowly bends down and snatches up one of the nightsticks dropped by Douglas’ private security guard.

He stares into it with that same twisted grin before glancing over his shoulder at Iwate who has instinctively rolled back into the ring. It’s obvious now that Davis isn’t about to leave here with the belt without sending a message first. He now approaches the ring and slips in, slapping the nightstick against his palm upon rising to his feet.

Comeau: I think Davis has got some bad ideas in mind for that nightstick and Shin’s skull.

Iwate slowly starts to stand up, his body traumatized by the hard crash landing on the outside of the ring, and that pain is about to get a whole lot worse.

Davis rushes at Shin and swings the nightstick into the knock out blow only to be caught with a drop toe hold. Justin is shocked as he crashes to the ring and Shin slips over his body, ending up straddling the back of his head. He stands and pulls Davis to his feet before lifting him upside down.

Justin is unable to prevent being charged upside down stomach first into the turnbuckle post. The fans are screaming as Iwate then locks on a front chancery and drops back, nailing the Forbidden Suplex.

Comeau: Forbidden Suplex CONNECTS!

Pain courses through every inch of Davis’ body as he rolls to his stomach, Iwate grabbing hold of the strap wrapped around his waist and ripping it off. The fans cannot help but to rejoice as Shin takes back the Cartel title belt and raises it up high into the air.

Mark: He’s got it, Shin has taken that Cartel title off of this intruder!

Moore: RAINBOW STICKERS!

Justin rolls out of the ring and drops to his knees across the mats before realizing that the Cartel title has been taken from his waist. He cannot believe it as he looks into the ring and sees Iwate stepping back holding the Cartel title aloft.

Mark: An amazing turn of events unfolding before our eyes. Shin Iwate may not be well liked, but he just brought back that Cartel Championship to the IWC.

Susie: Hopefully the Cartel title has learned its lesson.

Iwate doesn’t bother to celebrate or pander to the crowd, instead he just drops the gold over his shoulder and stares menacingly at the speechless Davis. Those security guards at ringside have recovered and are surrounding Davis, demanding he leave the building or be escorted out.

Instead of listening to them he spits furiously at the celebrating champion in the ring. Iwate lowers his gold and actually cracks a smile.

Iwate: Want a little more, do we? I’ll oblige.

Without even a moment’s delay Shin drops the belt, rushes at the ropes, springs to the top one and flips forward into a senton splash onto everyone at ringside. The security guards are taken down right alongside Davis as Shin comes down on top of him.

Comeau: This isn’t over! Iwate throwing himself right at Davis. But this isn’t about the Cartel title, or Justin’s disgusting speech before the brawl, this is about Iwate’s need to torture others.

Sure enough that is exactly what Iwate is doing, as he drags Davis to his feet and knees him repeatedly to both sides of the body. He throws him back first into the barricade and kicks him over and over again to the chest, welting and bloodying it all at once.

Claret begins to seep from the corner of Davis’ mouth thanks to the internal injuries being inflicted. Behind Iwate’s back a strange occurrence is unfolding as two figures hastily rush through the crowd. Alex Ingelson in his striped shirt jumps the barricade and is followed by a bandaged Jason Wheeler.

Mark: Why are Wheeler and Ingelson out here? Didn’t we see enough of Jason earlier tonight when he lost his N.H.B Title to Porno Lad?

Moore: You can never see enough of the Black Cat and his stylish Captain Hook garbs. Pirate is in this year.

The two figures emerge from the sea of humanity just beside the announce table, allowing Wheeler to stop briefly beside it and throw on a conveniently unused head set.

Wheeler: Remember when I said that teaming with Savior entitled to me certain perks? Well your about to see exactly what I meant by that, RIGHT NOW!

Wheeler throws down the headset and follows Ingelson into the ring.

Mark: What the hell did that mean?

Susie: Maybe they’re going to put on a fashion show.

Ingelson turns and calls for the bell, which chimes repeatedly. Iwate has no idea what is unfolding behind his back, relating the bell chimes to his continuous beat down of Davis and any security guard who foolishly tries to intervene. He is completely unaware that Wheeler is sat on top of a turnbuckle while Ingelson whispers a ten count.

Comeau: No, don’t tell me….

Moore: I have to tell someone about my yeast infection.

The head referee, who is in the Conspiracy’s back pocket rushes through his count. Ingelson’s super speedy count reaches ten and he calls for the bell once more. He then snatches up the Cartel title and hands it to Wheeler amongst a near riotous reaction from the crowd. Wheeler grabs the belt, jumps high into the air and lands on his knees, celebrating his big title victory.

Comeau: Jason Wheeler….no….no….there’s no way this is legal. He cannot be Cartel Champion, they did not just start a match without Iwate knowing and count him out so that the title changed hands.

Susie: Okay, it didn’t.

Wheeler continues to act like he just made a buzzer beating shot or caught the game winning pass as he cradles the Cartel title across his chest. Ingelson urges him to celebrate later as Iwate has just spotted the Black Cat holding his belt. He charges at the ring, leaving a pile of bodies in his wake while Wheeler and Ingelson skedaddle.

They rush at the barricade and jump over it into the crowd. Once they are safely away from Iwate, Alex lifts Jason’s hand into the air, the Cartel title hanging from the Black Cat’s palm.

Comeau: This has to be the most disgusting abuse of power my eyes have ever seen.

Moore: Then you probably don’t want to watch the video of me with that donkey.

Shin watches from the ring as Wheeler and Alex dart off, leaving him in a state of confusion and with many homicidal urges.

Mark: Another intriguing situation here tonight at Destiny. Iwate reclaimed the Cartel title only to have it stolen yet again from him this time by Jason Wheeler, but who is going to lay claim to the number one contendership coming up next?

Moore: Scrappy Doo?

Comeau: We’re about to find out who will go to Paranoia VI and challenge for the World Heavyweight title as two age old rivals settle the score.


FULL CIRCLE


Hey, hellloooo, up here….when a giant face appears on the screen that means you start to pay attention.

An eruption of cheers is elicited from those jam-packed into the Manhattan Center as Johnny Kingdom’s face appears on the titontron, his back facing the IWC emblem in the interview area.

Mark: Speak of the devil.

Susie: Kingdom’s head is ENORMOUS. And believe me, I’ve seen my fair share of big heads.

Comeau: Yes, but their normally on the end of a shaft. Let’s hear what Kingdom has to say just moments removed from his number one contenders match.

Shin Iwate briefly looks up at the screen as he marches through the curtains with the Cartel title thrust over his shoulder. The expression on Kingdom’s face is surprisingly calm and collected despite everything that has transpired building up to this confrontation.

Kingdom: Hi there, remember me? Oh, what’s wrong, your memory a little short? Well let me remind you. I’m the former TWO TIME World Heavyweight Champion who has been subjected to multiple screw jobs, chair shots, rock bottoms, and betrayals all within the span of the past three months.

Three symbolic fingers are raised.

Johnny: And why have I endured such hardships you may be oh so bold as to ask. Simple, you tend to face a long, treacherous road when taking back what is rightfully yours. I’m sure that nifty little Japanese guy who just competed can attest to that.

The fans find themselves more docile, trying to understand what Kingdom is implying.

Kingdom: In the IWC, it’s never as simple as just taking what was stolen from you. Instead you’ve got to go through all these dramatic plot twists, repetitive swerves, and vicious gang style assaults until you finally obtain what was rightfully yours in the first place.

Moore: I know how he feels. In kindergarten I had to fight seven girls to get back my Cabbage Patch doll, and then it ate my hair.

Johnny: This number one contenders match is a PRIME example of my point. Honestly, this match should have taken place a year ago when I returned to the IWC. I am the most deserving challenger after all. I held the World title for almost two years straight, so the moment my foot steps back into this ring I should be showered with championship opportunities left and right. But nooo, I had to put up with a year of teaming with that hypocrite Orlando, a year of carrying his ass to victory after victory, without even once receiving so much as a thank you for my monumental efforts.

Kingdom takes a breath, trying to calm himself as he thinks about his coerced partnership with the Icon.

Kingdom: Of course, teaming with Orlando was just a flimsy excuse for Douglas to keep the two of us away from the World title, while Christian was thrust into matches against killer clowns and toothless has-beens. But after all my excruciating hard-work, after burying my pride to even associate my name with Orlando’s, how does Cruze repay me for making him look good? He sets in motion some elaborate, soap opera like swerve that stole the number one contendership right out from under me.

The fingers of the Team Leader rub his forehead, remembering Nathan’s chair shot to his cranium at Extinction.

Johnny: And like I said earlier, getting back my property is never an easy task in this company. But I wasn’t about to let Orlando live out his little fantasy, to walk away with what was mine only to ultimately squander such an ill-gotten opportunity. So that’s what brings us to tonight, to this match. I’m here to reclaim what is MINE!

Once again the crowd reacts with a variety of pre-conditioned responses. Those solidly behind Orlando and all his ambitions boo Kingdom’s rant, while others chant the Team Leader’s name.

Kingdom: But this isn’t just about a World title match or who screwed over who. Don’t get me wrong though, that does play a HUGE part in it, but there’s also this bitter, career spanning rivalry, not to mention fulfilling a vow I made upon my return to this company. I said I wouldn’t leave the IWC until those responsible for bringing me back PAID, and I don’t intend to be a liar.

The thought of the company being saved from the Conspiracy strikes a cord amongst the audience.

Johnny: I’ve stuck by my promise and I’m going to see it through till the bitter end. And the end comes at Paranoia VI when I WIN the World title, and finish off the Conspiracy for good. And as long as there’s no Nathan Creed with a steel chair, or Orlando’s ex lover stacking the deck against me, or his evil twin with the curly mustache showing up after coming out of a coma, nothing will stand between me and my promise.

Johnny’s intense face gets a little closer to the camera, the lens zooming on his focused eyes.

Kingdom: I said last week that I would END Cruze’s career to accomplish my goals, and I meant every word of it. I’ve walked through fire for the past year, now it’s time to come out on the other side.

The Team Leader steps off camera, leaving the fans with that one last cryptic message before heading out for his match.

Mark: Some chilling words from Kingdom, who is JUST as determined as Orlando to walk out of this match number one contender for a variety of reasons.


ORLANDO CRUZE VS. JOHNNY KINGDOM
NUMBER ONE CONTENDERSHIP


“Gone Forever” by Three Days Grace bombards the speakers and results in a variety of reactions. It doesn’t take long for a despondent Sallie to step through the curtains to the stage, head lowered as she examines the striped shirt she’s forced to adorn. She tentatively makes her way down the ramp, really wanting no part in this elaborate plot orchestrated by Savior and Douglas. Nevertheless, with job security and the safety of her daughter on the line, she enters the ring ready to officiate this encounter.

Comeau: Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Moore: The same thing happens to me when I get stuck in those blasted wall cracks.

Mark: The recently redeemed Sallie doesn’t want to collaborate with the Conspiracy tonight, but her hand is forced.

Susie: My uncle use to do the same thing to my hand.

Sallie nervously steps around the ring, unsure of what she’s even doing there. “You Know My Name” blares through the PA system. The fans are brought out of their seats, jumping around excitedly, their hearts racing at the sight of the Icon. Orlando storms to the stage, throws up his arm and is showered by his own pyrotechnics as they erupt from the stage. He brings down his fist and moves towards the ring, his eyes cautiously watching a remorseful Sallie. He rolls into the ring and jumps to his feet, not allowing Sallie’s presence to stop his usual pre-match theatrics. The Icon ascends a turnbuckle and lifts his fist aloft to a righteous ovation.

Mark: Orlando made it explicitly clear just how important this match is to him tonight. Much like Creed, he believes it’s his destiny to win the number one contendership and go on to retire as World Champion at Paranoia VI. Ironically the man who stands in his way is his age old rival and the co-holder of the tag titles Johnny Kingdom.

Susie: I’m so excited to finally see this match, my nipples could literally cut glass right now.

Comeau: The Icon wants this victory….no, no, he needs this victory after the long history between himself and the Team Leader. This is the last hurdle standing behind him and ALL his retirement ambitions.

An intense Orlando drops back into the ring, still watching Sallie who is wedged in a corner, her lower lip trembling.

WAKE UP

Yet again the crowd is brought to its feet before they almost keel over from a heart-attack. Their eyes bulge from their sockets as Kingdom tears through the curtains to the stage. His eyes are brazen, focused on the Icon and the referee. He judges them only briefly before taking off down the ramp, his feet crashing down on the mats and magnifying the impact of his arrival. He slides into the ring and under the ropes before jumping to a standing base. He then moves nose to nose with Orlando, the two boiling like a pot of water on a burner.

Moore: Their nuggling noses. Maybe they made up.

Mark: Um, I think it’s practically impossible for these two men to ever co-exist. Lord knows they tried as Tag Team Champions, but their alliance fell to pieces once the World title got in the way. Like Kingdom said, this is about so much more to him than the number one contendership. This is about revenge, this is about his legacy, this is about a promise he made when he returned to the IWC.

Susie: Why can’t it ever be about supplying Susie with Jolly Ranchers?

For the Icon and the Team Leader it all boils down to this. All of their aspirations, all of their goals come to a heading tonight as they glare at one another from across the ring. Their long, brutal history creates an air of tension unlike anything felt before in the Manhattan Center. The fans are aware of just how big this bout is for the two in question.

For Kingdom this may be his last shot at a World Title opportunity, and for Orlando, this is the penultimate hurdle in his plan to retire as World Heavyweight Champion.

This pressure finally explodes like a powder keg the moment the bell chimes. Orlando dashes like a madman across the ring, sweeps Kingdom’s legs out from under him and comes down on his rival’s stomach, delivering a succession of right hands.

Comeau: This match erupting right from the word go.

Susie: I didn’t hear anyone say go. Are you hearing voices Mark? If you are, just pretend they don’t exist, like I do whenever Lucky from the Lucky Charms box tells me to burn things.

Mark: Good to know.

Cruze’s fists continue to nail both sides of Kingdom’s jaw as the Team Leader responds with some blows of his own. Sallie watches all of this in a petrified state from the corner of the ring, unsure of what she should do, if she should interject. So she stands there and does nothing as the brawl escalates.

Kingdom finally wedges his feet to Orlando’s chest and pushes him away, knocking his long time rival into a backwards roll. The Icon ends up on his feet just as Kingdom comes charging in, burying his shoulder to Orlando’s ribs and hoisting him into the air.

A infuriated Orlando delivers clubbing blows over Kingdom’s back as he is powered spine first into a turnbuckle. Johnny delivers rights and lefts to Cruze’s ribs while his rival clubs the Team Leader to the spine repeatedly. Official Sallie continues to watch in a panic as this brawl spirals further and further out of control.

Kingdom now bends forward, rushing in to drive his shoulder against Orlando’s ribs, but instead his face is engulfed with a knee. The last second counter causes Johnny to stand upright swinging his arms at his sides and putting him in perfect position for a hard chop right across the sternum.

The strike knocks Kingdom back a few steps as Orlando rushes out of the corner to press his advantage. Unfortunately for the Icon he takes a chop from his rival, the blow almost blistering his chest. Cruze is staggered but then dives forward into a European Uppercut to Kingdom’s jaw.

The stiff strike sends Kingdom into a corkscrew before he replies with a roaring elbow that nails the co-holder of the Tag Titles right to the jaw.

Comeau: These two trading some stiff strikes. Each one of these blows represents just how much hatred has brewed between these bitter rivals for years now.

Susie: I bet their as bitter as a jolly rancher. Although I never ate a jolly rancher, because its too many empty calories.

That devastating roaring elbow knocks Orlando in the direction of the cables before he’s now drilled to the jaw with a roaring jab. The spinning punch knocks the Icon into the ropes, leaning on them for support before Johnny comes charging in for the lariat to take him over the cables.

The quick thinking Cruze drops to his back and drags down on the top rope, low bridging the inbound Kingdom. As a result Johnny flips over the ropes and lands with a splat across his back on the outside mats. That’s when Orlando slips through the cables to the apron then flies off at a rising Kingdom, landing on top of him with a Lou Thez Press. He immediately proceeds to lay into Johnny’s face with a series of closed fists.

He then stands up, takes Johnny around the neck, pulls him to his feet and charges him face first into the announce table. Kingdom’s skull cracks against the table and causes him to stand dead on his feet.

Susie: Hey, leave our table alone. This is basically rape. They’re raping our table.

Mark: Johnny’s head thunderously bounced off our table. This is completely out of control, Sallie needs to do something.

The special referee doesn’t even bother to make the obligatory ten count to disqualify either man, she just lets the chaos ensue. Kingdom is grabbed by the back of his head and driven face first into the table yet again. But wait, Kingdom has blocked this attempt, wedging his hands to the surface of the table.

He now elbows Orlando to the ribs, takes him by the back of his cranium and drives him skull first off the wood. The Tag Champ bounces from the table then turns towards the stairs, stumbling in their direction. That’s when Johnny rushes up behind him and takes his wrist, whipping him towards the steps.

That’s before Orlando counters, instead sending Johnny charging shoulder first into the steel. His shoulder and clavicle cracks off the metal, causing him to roll across the mats lifelessly to his back. Somehow he starts to stand however, only to have Cruze snatch up one of the camera cords then wrap it around Kingdom’s throat.

The crowd is screaming as Orlando tries to strangle the life out of his nemesis. Johnny reaches for the electrical cord, trying to pull it away from his throat, yet is unable to free himself from this attempted strangulation. His face goes blue before Orlando rips the cable away from his throat, causing Johnny to fall to the mats gasping desperately for air.

The enraged Icon steps past him towards the steel stairs, separating the top half from the lower portion. He now lifts the stairs into the air and employs all his strength to throw them straight at Kingdom.

Somehow Johnny has the wherewithal to duck the steps, causing their colossal weight to crash against the mats. A stunned Team Leader now stands only to have Cruze charge in almost taking his head off with a lariat.

Mark: These two are absolutely HOMICIDAL!

Susie: If so, I get to do the chalk body outlines, I love chalk.

The Team Leader grips at his larynx in pain while Cruze takes him around the skull, rolls him to his feet and slaps his arm across his chest. A mixed reception is heard as Orlando backs Kingdom towards the lower half of the steps, prepared to Rock Bottom him on top of the steel.

Cruze seems to be relishing this moment until he’s elbowed to the back of the head, then nailed again to the cranium. These blows break up Orlando’s Rock Bottom attempt and leaves him prone to be placed in a front chancery, Kingdom dropping back into a DDT against the steps.

A groan emanates from the fans as Orlando’s skull bashes against the steel and he tumbles to his back. His eyes are fluttering, trying to remain conscious until the equally as frazzled Kingdom takes him under the legs and falls back, catapulting Cruze face first into the exposed turnbuckle post.

Orlando’s skull creams the post and sends his body spiraling into the mats.

Mark: Oh jeez, Orlando’s head nailing the steps and that post. Who knows how much damage that inflicted.

The look on Sallie’s face is that of sheer horror at the sight of Orlando gripping at his possibly fractured skull. Johnny moves towards him at this point then stomps Orlando straight to his face the moment he tried to sit up. That’s when Kingdom turns towards the barricade and grabs one of the steel plates with the IWC initials engraved on its surface. He rips the long and wide steel plate away from the barrier while Cruze uses the apron to stand up.

He’s just reached his feet when Kingdom pitches the body length steel plate right into Orlando’s side. It remains pressed against his body as Kingdom then charges in and jumps back first into the plate, driving the steel against Orlando’s frame.

The crowd cringes at this collision while the barrier falls away and Orlando wavers against the apron, his eyes devoid of life. It’s at this point that Kingdom takes him by the neck and rolls him into the ring, sliding in himself before going for the lateral press. Sallie doesn’t even make the count, refusing to budge from the corner. She seems completely unaware of what to do, wanting to placate both Douglas and Kloe.

A vengeful gaze is shot in her direction from the Team Leader, who is fuming over her inability to properly officiate this match. He stands up and shouts some threats in her direction before stomping Orlando to the side of the head then takes him by the arm and stretches it out across the canvas. He quickly dives into the air, coming down knee first right into he bicep.

Cruze roars in pain while he pulls the arm into his chest, Johnny standing up and taking hold of his leg at this point. He wraps his arm around the knee then drops back into a DDT on the Icon’s leg. Orlando sits up and reaches for his knee at this point while Johnny bounces off of the ropes and dives forward into a dropkick against his forehead.

Comeau: Johnny methodically attacking numerous portions of Cruze’s anatomy, trying to debilitate every inch of him.

Moore: Every inch? So no more bald babies then?

Orlando has rolled to his stomach as Kingdom grabs him by the ankle and hoists his leg up into the air. Eventually Cruze’s knee is driven forcefully against the canvas, possibly shattering the bones in his leg. The Icon rolls to his back, grasping at his leg in pain while Johnny approaches the horrified Sallie in the corner.

Kingdom: You either make the count, or I’m going to end his career tonight.

Johnny now has the audacity to escort Sallie out of the corner with a light shove before starting up the turnbuckle. He reaches the very top rope and turns, his eyes focusing on the laid out Orlando in the center of the ring. The crowd is squealing as Johnny stands up and prepares for the 450 splash.

That’s when Orlando unexpectedly charges in driving a right into Kingdom’s ribs, doubling him over on the turnbuckle. The Icon now blasts him to the temple with a right, followed by another shot, desperate to knock him from the corner.

Cruze now places him in a front chancery while reaching out and hooking a leg. The Team Leader cannot prevent being charged across the ring and driven into the canvas via a muscle buster.

The devastating collision causes Kingdom to fold up like an accordion on the canvas before bouncing up to his seat, his eyes glossed over. He now falls to his back while Orlando crawls into the cover, hooking both of his rival’s legs for the three.

Sallie once again watches wide eyed, her knees bending as she wants to drop and make the count, but she still hesitates. She bites at her bottom lip and does nothing, still trying to figure out how she’s can make everything right. Orlando steams as he stares at her, realizing her hesitation is the only thing keeping him from his retirement goals.

He now attempts to force her hand by stepping through Kingdom’s legs and rolling him to his chest, applying the sharpshooter. Half of the crowd is screaming for Kingdom to tap while the other half implores him not to.

Johnny is just as indecisive, his body telling him to quit, but his mind refusing to give in to the pain. The canvas is grasped by the Team Leader who begins to desperately pull himself towards the ropes. Orlando is dragged along behind him as he continues to rear back on the hold.

Kingdom’s lower spine is almost snapped just like his legs via this vicious stretch. The look in Orlando’s eyes tells the story of just how much he wants to main event Paranoia, how deep his desire goes to win the World title before retiring. Johnny continues to be the last hurdle before he can achieve that goal.

Using every bit of his strength Kingdom claws his way towards the cables.

Comeau: Orlando already has the sharpshooter locked on, trying to earn a submission that would force Sallie to end this match.

Susie: Pfft, shows how much you know. Women can’t be forced to do anything, well, except for that whole bleeding anything.

Anguish flows through the bodies of both potential number one contenders, Orlando fighting to earn the tap out and Kingdom doing everything he can to prevent it. Finally Johnny finds his salvation by reaching out and grabbing the bottom rope.

Sallie doesn’t even bother with a five count or to step in and break up the hold. Therefore Orlando is free to pull Kingdom away from the ropes and drag him back to the center of the ring with the sharpshooter STILL established.

Mark: Oh come on Sallie, get off your ass and do something ALREADY!

Susie: See, we’re stubborn to the end.

Roars of pain are elicited from Kingdom as he finds himself right back in the center of the ring, body mangled by the sharpshooter. Cruze leans back even further than before, applying a greater amount of pressure, knowing this may be the only way to end this match.

Kingdom wedges his elbows to the canvas and starts across the ring towards the ropes once again. Cruze is dragged behind still exerting more and more pressure on the hold. A desperate Team Leader lunges for the ropes and grabs the bottom cable to a loud reception from the crowd.

Once again Sallie does nothing, allowing Orlando to yet again drag Kingdom back towards the center of the ring.

This time things go differently though, with Johnny pushing himself up onto the back of his head and reaching out, grabbing one of Orlando’s ankles. He lifts up on it and causes Cruze to tumble forward to the canvas, Johnny getting to his knees at his side then diving at the arm.

He takes hold of it, and then interlocks his hands around Cruze’s jaw, applying the Lesson in Leadership. The brutal crossface rips and tears at Orlando’s shoulder, almost separating it from the arm. Orlando’s head is pulled so far in reverse it threatens to crack the vertebras.

Comeau: Lesson in Leadership now applied! Will it do the job Orlando’s sharpshooter was unable to?

Moore: If Orlando taps there better be some kind of cat costume involved.

The pain is unbearable, yet Orlando is forcing his way towards the ropes, his hand lunging for them to no avail. Kingdom wrenches even harder on the chin and the arm, attempting to crack both of them if it means he’ll win the World Championship.

The trauma seems to be doing the job, Orlando’s hand extended over the canvas on the brink of tapping. Sallie can barely stand to watch as the Icon finds himself seconds from submitting to this hold. That’s when he balls up his fist and makes one last lunge for the ropes, wrapping his fingers around the bottom cable. This results in a deafening reaction from the crowd. But to no one’s surprising, Sallie doesn’t move a muscle to break up the submission.

Mark: This is getting ridiculous!

Moore: Just like the final episodes of Alias.

Kingdom now drops to his side and flips Orlando over top of him then right back down to the canvas with the crossface STILL latched on. Kingdom’s body is now between Orlando and the ropes, leaving him incapable of reaching them.

The Icon’s groans are truly harrowing as he finds himself in an impossible situation, knowing that even if he reaches the ropes it won’t save him. Therefore he wedges his knees to the canvas, beginning to will his body towards his feet. Johnny is absolutely stunned as he’s lifted from the canvas, still holding onto the crossface.

Orlando stands up hoisting Kingdom into the air beside him before dropping the Team Leader with a modified side-slam.

Comeau: What a counter by Orlando! How did he have the strength to do that?

Susie: Four words, gamma radiation.

Johnny arches his back from the canvas while Orlando rolls across the ring gripping at his tattered arm. He sluggishly stands up stooped over his arm before he approaches his laid out rival. He grabs the legs lifting them into the air in preparation of locking in another sharpshooter.

That’s when Kingdom reaches up and takes his arm, pulling on it until Cruze tumbles to the canvas and his opponent sits up at his side trying to re-establish the Lesson in Leadership.

Before he can get the hold applied Orlando ducks his head and rolls forward across the canvas straight to his feet. He spins around and takes Kingdom’s legs, lifting them up and once again trying to apply that deadly sharpshooter. This time Kingdom wedges his feet to Orlando’s ribs and kicks him backwards into the turnbuckle.

Cruze tumbles into the corner with his arms falling over the ropes, looking bereaved by his inability to clamp on the sharpshooter.

That’s when Kingdom stands up and comes limping towards his opponent, eventually jumping into the air and nailing a diving forearm right to his jaw. Orlando looks discombobulated by this impact while his wrist is taken and he’s whipped across the ring towards the opposite turnbuckle.

Orlando spins around though and reverses the whip by pulling Kingdom in, side stepping him and clamping on a side headlock. He begins to wrench back and forth on the neck as the Team Leader flails his arms, realizing that Cruze is now trying to render him unconscious.

To prevent this from happening Kingdom ducks down and slips around behind Orlando, wedging his shoulder to his spine and hoisting him up into the air. Johnny has him in a back drop suplex position only for Cruze to turn and come down with a crossbody across his rival’s chest.

The Team Leader falls to his back with Orlando coming down on top of him with a lateral press. Yet again no type of count is rendered by Sallie, who is almost in tears as she’s forced to watch this and be absolutely powerless to do anything.

That’s when Johnny gets his shoulder up, sending Cruze rolling across the canvas to his knees. That’s when the Team Leader rises to his feet and charges in, trying to go for the punt kick to Cruze’s skull that sets up for the Brainbuster DDT. Cruze reaches out though and sweeps the leg on and past his skull, causing Kingdom to crash onto his back with Orlando diving on top of him.

Johnny kicks out before a three count could be made, if Sallie had any intention of making one that is.

Comeau: Instinctive pins by Cruze but it doesn’t matter how many pins he goes for because Sallie is not making any kind of move to end this contest. She’s doing exactly what Douglas wanted, letting these two destroy each other.

Moore: If they’re going to destroy each other at least have the decency to battle in giant robotos.

Both Cruze and Kingdom race one another to their feet as Johnny spins around into another lethal roaring elbow. This time he ends up caught across the chest though, Orlando setting up for the Rock Bottom to a thunderous reception.

That’s when Kingdom gets an equally as loud pop upon kneeing Orlando below the belt and taking him around the neck. Johnny now hoists Cruze into the air for the Exodus Finale only to have his opponent float over his shoulder and land right behind him. He pushes Johnny forward into the cables at this point, Kingdom stopping just short of them as Cruze comes barreling in.

That’s when Kingdom side steps him, takes the back of Orlando’s head and pitches him through the ropes to the outside of the ring. Johnny tumbles to the mats and rolls across then right into the announce table. Johnny follows along behind while giving Sallie a hair raising stare.

Johnny: Your about to see just how serious I am.

Kingdom slips through the ropes to the apron and then drops to the mats in front of a struggling Cruze, who he pops across the jaw. Another blow almost cracks Cruze’s lips wide open and Kingdom attempts to fracture his chin with a European Uppercut.

Orlando flies back and lands on the table across his spine, his eyes fluttering as he attempts to remain conscious. That’s when Kingdom steps up onto the table and pulls Orlando sluggishly to his knees.

Susie: Eww, sexy, they’re going to dance on our table. This takes me back.

Mark: Yeah, I’m pretty sure dancing on a table is how you got all your previous employment. But these men aren’t dancing, they’re in a very precarious position right now.

Johnny has placed Orlando in a side headlock as he peppers his rival to the forehead with jab after jab. These blows disorientate Cruze enough to be pulled to his feet without a fuss. Once upright Johnny wraps his arm around Orlando’s neck, calling for the Exodus Finale through the announce table.

Comeau: Oh my, here we go. Kingdom is about to drive Cruze right through our table via the Exodus Finale. This is just the point Savior and Douglas wanted this match to come to.

All Kingdom’s strength and energy is put into lifting Orlando only to have his rival deliver a knee to his rival’s ribs. As Johnny reaches for his gut it leaves him exposed for Cruze who shoots his arm across his opponent’s chest and hoists him into the air.

He takes Johnny all the way from one table, through the Spanish announce table with a Rock Bottom. The table shatters completely beneath Kingdom’s weight while Orlando comes down on top of him.

Mark: AAAAHH! A Rock Bottom from Cruze to Kingdom through the announce table.

Susie: Thank God those Spaniards work for cheap. Wait, that was incredibly demeaning.

Comeau: Much like your entire character Susie. This match as to be over, it HAS to be.

Both bitter blood rivals rest amongst the shattered portions of the announce table, struggling to recover. The Icon rolls away from the fragments of the table and the fragments of his opponent who still lies lifelessly amongst them.

Sallie watches what she just witnessed from the ring, ripping out her hair in disbelief of this brutal environment she’s responsible for. In body aches from the top of his skull to the tips of his toes as Orlando crawls towards the ring, instinctively lunging for the apron.

He takes hold of it and tries to get his legs to work beneath him while Kingdom actually begins to show signs of life. The Team Leader is almost incapable of thought as he grabs hold of a chair still occupied by an intimidated Spanish announcer.

Johnny doesn’t clasp at him for long before Orlando takes his rival around the neck and drags him towards the ring. Orlando rolls him in, victory all but assured at this point as Kingdom finds himself sprawled back first across the canvas.

As Cruze slips in himself he rests momentarily on his knees, staring into Sallie’s sympathetic eyes for several seconds before finally falling into the lateral press. He hooks the leg as well while Sallie takes a deep breathe, falls to the ring and actually begins to make the count.

1

2

3!

Orlando is going to Paranoia, he will main event, wait, scratch that. Kingdom launches his shoulder clear from the ring at the last conceivable second, refusing to allow his World title ambitions to be dashed. The crowd watches on with gaping jaws and hands planted on top of their heads, amazed by this kick out.

Susie: MARIACHI!

Comeau: In a feat straight out of Ripley’s Believe It or Not, Kingdom has managed to get his shoulder up.

Orlando sits up with closed eyes, mumbling obscenities under his breath. If anyone is as angry as he is with this result, Sallie would be that person. She almost weeps as she realizes this match will continue going despite her betrayal of Douglas by trying to just end it.

An exhausted Icon allows for no recovery time, slipping around behind Kingdom and sitting him up on the canvas. He applies a seated abdominal stretch then lets loose with the MMA elbows. The point of the elbow repeatedly drills Kingdom to the temple and cheek, the fans absolutely wailing.

Comeau: Orlando already unleashing the dangerous MMA elbows! This move has finished off every single opponent Cruze has EVER used it against. He’s going to make Sallie have no other recourse but to call for the bell.

The elbows are shattering the side of Kingdom’s face as his head bobs like a bobblehead on a dashboard. The majority of the audience is standing, wondering rather this will be enough, the final blows landed to conclude this brutal battle amongst Tag Team Champions.

To their shock Kingdom has yet to be rendered unconscious by these lethal elbow strikes but he is severally dazed. He borders on passing out entirely before Orlando drops to his back and pulls Kingdom around to face him, beginning to apply his version of the triangle choke.

The fans are amazed that Cruze is busting out his rarely used submission but Johnny dashes their hopes by flipping forward into a jackknife cover. He pulls on the back of Orlando’s legs while resting spine first across his chest. Sallie cannot bring herself to once again break Savior’s and Douglas’ decree, refusing to try and stop this match once again.

Orlando kicks out from under Kingdom and sends him rolling across the ring into the ropes. An exasperated Team Leader tries to stand up before rushing right at the Icon who catches him with a BIG spinebuster. Every bit of energy and momentum is knocked from Kingdom’s body as he is driven almost through the ring.

Cruze doesn’t bother to go for the pinfall even though victory may very well be in his grasp. Instead of going for the pin he attempts to appeal to the referee, storming in her direction and wagging his finger.

Orlando: You want to do the ring thing? You want to show everyone you changed. Here’s your chance, here’s your opportunity!

Sallie doesn’t know quite how to respond, knowing that Cruze’s words are accurate but the stake of her daughter is at risk here. Cruze realizes this and takes a breath before turning back towards the injured Kingdom who has rolled under the ropes and to the apron.

The Team Leader has nothing left, his body too pulverized to continue this physically testing match. Orlando prays on this weakness, slipping through the ropes and leading Kingdom to his knees. He’s literally moments from putting the finishing touches on his retirement plans, when Johnny drives the top of his head well south of the border. The headbunt to the testes has Orlando doubled over in pain, putting him in perfect position for Johnny to put him in the front chancery and hoist him into the brainbuster DDT on top of the APRON!

Comeau: Nooo! The BRAINBUSTER onto the apron!

Susie: We don’t have to go the funeral do we?

Orlando’s skull is almost shattered upon impact with the hardest portion of the ring. His body takes an unlikely bounce between the ropes back into the ring where he lays convulsing. Johnny remains on the apron just as groggy before he drops into the ring and locks eyes with a despondent Sallie. Without a single inhibition Kingdom grabs Orlando around the neck and assists him in the corner.

Mark: What more does Kingdom have planned after that Brainbuster DDT? We all remember what that move did to Desolation when it was delivered on that exposed apron.

Susie: The ring is a filthy, filthy WHORE! It’s exposed all over, just like a Paris Hilton sex tape.

Johnny lifts Cruze to his seat across the top rope with Orlando nothing more than a broken shell of his former self. The drool that pours from the corners of his mouth and the lost, incoherent gaze of his eyes are clear indicators that irreversible damage may have been done.

That’s why it becomes all the more terrifying as Kingdom wraps his arm around Orlando’s neck, setting up for the Brainbuster DDT on top of the turnbuckle. Sallie cries out for him not to do it.

Kingdom: This is on YOUR head Sallie.

Johnny prepares to deliver the career ending Exodus Finale with Sallie pleading like the rest of the arena for him not to do it. Their pleas fall on deaf ears.

Comeau: Not this Kingdom, not this, don’t go this far! Remember what you did to Desolation.

Susie: Desolation ate my Sponegbob doll.

Kingdom begins to hoist the recovering Orlando into the air when the bell chimes repeatedly, forcing him to release the Icon. Sallie leans through the ropes, screaming at the time keeper to continue hitting the bell until it sinks in.

Mark: Sallie is stopping this match, she’s stopping it!

Johnny beams a quizzical stare in the referee’s direction, unsure of her motives as ring announcer Kailey Worf steps forward to deliver Sallie’s edict.

Kailey: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match via disqualification, Orlando Cruze!

This verdict is met with polar opposition receptions from the split crowd, some cheering, others heinously booing.

Comeau: Huh? Sallie has stopped this match to prevent Kingdom from possibly ending Orlando’s career with an Exodus Finale on top of the turnbuckle by disqualifying him!?!

Moore: She’s smarter than the average bear. Which reminds me, where is my picnic basket?

Kingdom drops from the turnbuckle and back peddles across the ring looking like his baseball card collection were incinerated before his very eyes. He his lips quiver with rage and steam almost seems to rise from his simmering scalp.

Sallie, who is smarter than she looks, has bailed from the ring and has pulled Orlando down off the turnbuckle in the process. Cruze crashes to the outside mats, still looking light headed as Johnny watches this all in a state of sheer disbelief.

“You Know My Name” blares through the PA system while Kingdom drops to his knees, realizing that for the second pay-per-view in a row that the number one contendership has been stolen from him.

Orlando snaps out of the Exodus Finale delivered on the apron, as soon as he hears Kailey’s announcement and his entrance music. His eyes now bulge from their sockets and steam almost seems to be rising from his body.

Comeau: Orlando, like many of the crowd, not liking this controversial decision, but Sallie did what she thought was right instead of following the Conspiracy’s marching orders.

Susie: I never followed marching orders either when I was on my highschool marching band. Maybe that’s why there were so many deaths.

Orlando sits up and trembles to the point that he’s about to blow a gasket. Sallie stands across from him with her palms raised aloft, trying to explain why she did what she did, but the Icon is hearing none of it.

Mark: A controversial decision here in this brutal bout between the Icon and the Team Leader, but now we know who will be the number one contender headed into Paranoia VI.

Moore: Inspector Gadget?

Comeau: I was referring to Orlando Cruze actually.

Kingdom continues to kneel on the canvas, breathing heavily and trying to keep from blowing his top like a volcano.

Kingdom: You screwed me AGAIN Orlando!

Cruze sits up at ringside, shaking his head no, and pointing the finger of blame at a crying Sallie. She sobs over what she just did, realizing that her decision has made absolutely no one happy, in fact it has left Kingdom with an even greater desire to cripple the Icon.

Mark: A stunning conclusion to decide a new number one contender, but now we’re about to find out who will be the World Champion. I hope we don’t get another controversial decision like this one.


AWAKENINGS


Screams can be heard in the background as archival footage showcases a bloodied, hurting Nathan Creed standing just outside the door of the Weapon’s Lair. Sweat races down his face, mixing with clotting blood, creating a crimson river that flows across his body. Familiar voices are heard in the background, super-imposed over this imagery just as Evans was requesting Creed’s assistance with taking out Orlando Cruze.

Savior: I want everyone to meet the newest member of the Conspiracy...NATHAN CREED!

Even earlier footage is now shown, this time depicting Creed removing a Psycho mask as he stands side by side amongst the Conspiracy. Christian is located on his right, lifting Nathan’s arm high into the air and motioning towards him excitedly.

It now transfers back to the historic Weapon’s Lair at Extinction, where Creed crouches in front of a recovering Cruze, chair squeezed tightly in his hands. It appears that he’s mere moments from caving in his long time friend’s skull with the steel.

Orlando: Creed is being used, he’s being taken advantage of.

The outraged voice of the Icon is fed into the background of these barbaric images.

Cruze: He’s not all there in the head thanks to what the Conspiracy did to him.

Footage taken from the night that Nathan was scheduled to be married filters in over the Weapon’s Lair scenes. The sadistic laughter of Savior can be heard as he aims a camcorder at the decimated Nathan backstage, blood soaking through his wedding tux. Christian proudly holds a railroad spike over the severally damaged cranium of the Future.

Nathan: I really don’t remember…..anything.

Images of Creed waking up in a hospital bed are featured with Krissie McMorris present as well as other members of the Conspiracy, who quickly set their plan in motion to manipulate the amnesiac.

Again the controversial closing to the Weapon’s Lair overtakes the screen with Creed looking confused at the injured, desperate Orlando, who feebly tries to recover. Christian’s conniving voice is overheard in the background.

Christian: We OWN Nathan. We’re not about to let anyone manipulate him.

The ominous music in the background suddenly alters as Nathan spins around, and swings the chair originally aimed at Orlando’s head straight into the cranium of Evans instead. This chair shot symbolizes his set up of the Conspiracy.

Christian: We OWN Nathan.

Creed is shown standing side by side with Savior, before transferring to a smiling Nathan located beside his tag team partner the Icon. The friends are reunited as they stand over the laid out Evans, celebrating the elaborate rouse that Creed just pulled off.

All work and no play makes me a dull boy..
All work and no play makes me a dull boy..
All work and no play makes me a dull boy..
ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MAKES ME A DULL BOY!!

The video showcases Creed going face to face with Savior, the World Championship belt glistening over Christian’s shoulder. McMorris is shown stooping over Nathan in his hospital bed before transferring to her delivering double low blows to Savior and Evans. The Rising Phoenix looms over the laid out Creed holding a bloodied spike in his hand and laughing as he stares into the handheld camcorder.

Live in a secret
Live in a lie
Live in a dark hole
Beneath the black sky

A Psycho mask is positioned over Creed’s face as he head-bunts a referee and then finds himself standing alongside the Conspiracy. It then abruptly switches to Savior glaring across the ring at Nathan as they wage war side by side as tag team partners. Creed’s skin almost seems to be squirming as the video features him stepping onto the stage and shaking hands with the repugnant Douglas.

Live like a martyr
And draw my last breath
Feel like an old man
With a knife in my chest

Live like a transient
Live like a thief
Hide in a closet
Grinding my teeth
Sit in a small room
With the walls closing in
Open the shutters
But everything's still dim

Scenes from the Weapon’s Lair at Extinction once again break into the feed featuring Nathan slamming a chair not only into the skull of Evans, but the cranium of Kingdom as well. He now finds himself embracing the Icon, the two shaking hands over the bodies of those they played like fools.

Earlier footage showcases the Rising Phoenix employing his manipulation over the Future. Instead of slamming a spike against Creed’s face we see him slipping his arm over his shoulders, Savior patting him on the back with a conniving grin. Brief flashes showcase Savior spearing Nathan in a variety of various clips before finally settling on him coming to Creed’s aid in a tag team match.

Payback
For all the things
I've done in my past

Payback
For everything
There are no take backs

I'm not the reason
It's not my fault
It's not my problem
I'm not the cause

A battered Nathan is featured being assaulted by Savior and Evans, the duo stomping away at him viciously. McMorris hands over a gasoline can to the smirking World Champion. They douse him in gas and are about to set him ablaze only for their plot to go haywire.

Krissie McMorris is once again shown, her collaboration in Creed’s plot is revealed by means of a double low blow to the genitals of Evans and Savior. The Future is then shown giving Evans a death valley driver out of the ring and through a table before transferring to him German suplexing Christian through some wood as well.

A smirking Creed and McMorris embrace one another with a giant hug over their broken rivals, the very men they spent months setting up.

I'm not your scapegoat
I'm not your god
I'm not your martyr
I'd leave you all

I'm not the reason (I'm not your scapegoat)
It's not my fault (I'm not your god)
It's not my problem (I'm not your martyr)
I'm not the cause (I'd leave you all)

Revenge is had by the Conspiracy as depicted in the next clip. A smirking Savior stands over McMorris with a chair in his hand. Her arm is also entangled in a steel chair while Christian’s voice can be heard in the background.

Savior: It’s time to pay a traitor’s price.

He delivers a one man conchairto to the arm of McMorris, possibly shattering it on impact. Creed is now shown holding McMorris in his arms, overwhelmed by all the emotions flooding him at once.

The long history between Creed and Savior once again play through the video. The World Champion is shown holding Nathan’s arm into the air, symbolizing their union before transitioning into Creed standing over the Rising Phoenix as he lies amongst broken shards of wood. Christian is featured once again bringing the chair down over Krissie’s arm, inflicting untold amounts of damage.

All work and no play
Makes me a dull boy

Nathan bashes Evans over the head with a chair before showing Christian holding up the World Heavyweight Title. The final image is that of Nathan holding a wounded McMorris in his arms, his face flooded with anger and his mind compelled by revenge.


CHRISTIAN SAVIOR © VS. NATHAN CREED



Mark: What a history between these two that can’t even be summed up by a video package. This rivalry between Creed and Savior goes back almost two years now, but we get one step closer to resolving it tonight.

10...

9...

8...

7...

6...

The crowd starts booing as the countdown continues, as it signifies the arrival of a certain superstar. Their jeers quiet as the countdown reaches...

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

A series of bright fireworks go off as people yell and boo the recognizable countdown.

You think you know me?!

I’m…

As the smoke clears, Christian Savior is seen with his back to the audience, his arms outstretched!

Falling in the black
Slipping through the cracks
Falling to the depths can I ever go back
Dreaming of the way it used to be
Can you hear me

Spinning around, the figure reveals himself to be Christian Savior, wearing his black pants and phoenix-logo shirt, along with a long black trenchcoat. The World Title is wrapped around his waist, his palms caressing the gold.

Falling in the black
Slipping through the cracks
Falling to the depths can I ever go back
Falling inside the black
Falling inside falling inside the black

Savior makes his way down the ring, ignoring what words are being shouted by the audience.

Tonight I'm so alone
This sorrow takes ahold
Don't leave me here so cold
(Never want to be so cold)

Your touch used to be so kind
Your touch used to give me life
I've waited all this time, I've wasted so much time

Don't leave me alone
Cause I barely see at all
Don't leave me alone, I'm

Savior climbs up onto the apron, removing his coat. He discards it to a stagehand then slips through the ropes with the title still shimmering around his trim waist. Without delay he takes off his title and hands it over to the official, instructing the ref to protect it with his insignificant life.

Comeau: Savior unaccompanied to the ring tonight thanks to Pat Evans’ removal from the building. Plus, I don’t think Wheeler nor Douglas want to be anywhere near the highly unstable Creed.

Susie: Creed’s as unstable as Tara Reid’s boob job.

Mark: Indeed. Savior is going to have his hands full tonight, but if there’s one thing Christian is known for it’s his resiliency. He constantly finds a way to survive these title matches. But will he be so lucky tonight?

Tension fills the air in anticipation of the next superstar to enter the ring when the lights dim down. Adam Gontier's soothing voice cuts the tension swiftly

"Pain, Without love
Pain, I can't get enough
Pain, I like it rough
Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all"

The drum beat kicks in for Three Days Grace's song 'Pain' and the lights flash synchronized to the beat. Nathan Creed walks from behind the curtain, his expression stoic as he stares down at the ring. He snaps his neck from side to side while wringing his wrists. The song takes a change in mood and softens as Creed starts a slow walk towards the ring accompanied by a low blue light that replaces the strobes.

"You're sick of feeling numb,
You're not the only one,
I'll take you by the hand,
And I'll show you a world that you can understand,
This life is filled with hurt,
When happiness doesn't work,
Trust me and take my hand,
When the lights go out you will understand"

Mark: Savior is in for a world of pain.

Susie: Is he going to be forced to watch the end of Bambi?

Comeau: I’m talking about Nathan’s impending decimation of the World Champion. Creed has been on a tear all night long and he has vowed that not only will he leave here tonight with the belt but he will Savior a broken heap on the canvas.

Christian psyches himself up with slaps to his cheeks, pivoting between feet while the angry Creed slips through the ropes in front of him. He doesn’t bother taking his eyes off of the Champ, all the rage that overwhelms him clear behind his tense pupils.

It’s that same anger that drives him to reach into the back of his tights, removing a steel pipe and rushing at his rival with it. A petrified Christian dives through the ropes to avoid Creed, but is pursued right to the outside of the ring.

Mark: Wait, Creed’s got a lead pipe. Don’t get yourself disqualified.

Susie: And yesch, couldn’t he of decorated the pipe a little better, made it a little less drab?

A panicked Christian glances over his shoulder at the inbound Creed, who continues to chase him now around the ringside area. Savior turns around and tries to appeal to Creed’s mercy, holding out his palms and begging off right as he backs into the steel steps.

That’s when Creed swings the pipe and Christian dives out of the way, causing it to leave a dent in the stairs. The sound of the two objects colliding echoes throughout the Manhattan Center while Savior slides back into the ring.

Comeau: He almost just took Savior’s head off with that thing. The official’s got to get that weapon out of Creed’s hands before he gets himself disqualified. Doesn’t Creed realize this is exactly what he was preventing Psycho from doing weeks ago?

Susie: I think the only thing Creed realizes is that my hair is not only beautiful but smells nice too.

Mark: I have noticed the odor, which isn’t a good thing.

Creed slides back into the ring, overwhelmed by his animalistic urges. He is unable to get up quite so quickly though, Savior immediately pouncing on him with stomps like a man fighting for his very life. That’s exactly the case given Nathan’s loss of inhibitions, his rage fueling him to begin standing.

A series of right hands keeps Creed at bay, preventing him from standing. The World Champion nails shot after shot to try and keep Nathan down, before quickly bolting towards the ropes. He gets a running start this time and the added momentum makes his right hand land with greater force to Creed’s forehead.

Finally Nathan is taken down to the canvas as he rolls to his side, reaching for his scalp. It’s right at this point that Savior charges in and boots him directly to the side of the face, once again knocking him to his back. Right after this deadly kick Savior steps back, extending his arms to his side and sticking out his lower lip like he were a primate.

A lice infected, feces flinging monkey would probably be met with greater applause than the egotistical Savior, but their negative response fails to effect the Champion. He tunes them out while reaching down and snatching up the pipe, twirling it around in his palm.

He briefly plants a kiss on it, pats the steel against his palm, and now charges straight at the rising Creed, prepared to get himself intentionally disqualified. Instead of nailing his opponent though he’s caught via a tilt-a-whirl into the back breaker, resulting in a switch in emotion from the fans.

Mark: Savior was going to try and weasel his way out of another title match but Creed put the kibosh on that.

Susie: I love kiboshes, except when I stab my tongue with that spike all the food is stuck on.

Comeau: Uhh…ah to hell with it, would take too long to explain.

Moore: And I wouldn’t listen.

Savior rolls away from his rival roaring in pain and reaching for his battered kidneys. The pipe he previously wielded only sets on the canvas for a moment before Nathan takes it up in his own palm yet again.

Every inch of his flesh trembles and transforms to a bright red shade as Nathan rushes forward to take out his opponent with the foreign weapon. In mid-swing his wrist is grabbed hold of though, referee Princeton stopping the impending disqualification.

The pipe is ripped out of his hand by the referee, prompting Nathan to become overwhelmed with blinding rage. He jabs his finger into the ref’s chest while Princeton tries feebly to explain his actions. This brief distraction proves to be beneficial for Savior, who catches Creed with a back slide into the pin.

1

Nathan rolls backwards to his knees, slaps a front chancery on Christian and drags him up to his feet, perhaps setting up for the DDT. Before he can connect Christian wedges his shoulder to Nathan’s ribs, shoving him backwards across the ring and powering him spine first into a nearby turnbuckle.

Creed connects to the corner hard, causing him to reach for his possibly shattered spine. All the while Christian steps back and launches himself shoulder first into the Challenger’s ribs. He now delivers the same shoulder thrust once again before stepping back to the center of the ring.

He scrapes his feet against the canvas like a bull building momentum before charging right into a knife edge chop from the recovered Nathan. The strike hits with such emphasis that it bruises Christian’s sternum, prompting Nathan to nail another chop, then another, then another. He doesn’t stop until Savior has been backed to the center of the ring with welts forming on his chest.

Finally Creed pulls his hand back and rifles off another chop straight to Savior’s forehead. The sickening chop almost beheads the Champion, who falls to his back as a result. Now that Christian is down this allows Nathan to fall to his side, placing him in a side headlock while delivering a succession of right hands.

Nathan’s fist connects successfully again and again until Christian’s face is almost busted open. Princeton yet again is forced to step in to intervene, trying to pry Nathan off of his frazzled rival. Considering the lack of control Creed has over his emotions his reaction is rather tamed, standing up and shoving the official away.

Princeton yet again tries to explain that he’s trying to keep Nathan from flushing his title match down the toilet but only distracts Creed long enough for Savior to recover. Christian now crawls up behind his adrenaline driven opponent and goes for a low blow to his crotch.

Unfortunately for Savior, his face goes white as Nathan catches the hand just before it can hit the groin. Creed turns to face his nemesis while still holding onto his wrist. Before Christian can so much as plead, Nathan lowers his hand to the canvas then stomps brutally straight onto his palm.

Comeau: Ohh, Nathan may have just broken Christian’s hand.

Susie: Well, he’s not going to have to invest in hand lotion or nudie magazines any time soon.

Christian holds his possibly shattered knuckles while rolling into the ropes, using them to begin standing up. That’s when Nathan steps in and wraps his arms around his waist from behind. Just as the Rising Phoenix’s face looses all color yet again, he’s German suplexed right over the ropes.

The throw sends Savior twisting inside out then splattering across the outside mats to a tremendous ovation from the audience.

Mark: This is just getting out of hand at this point. Nathan isn’t trying to win this match, he’s trying to kill Christian.

Savior is all shaken up on the outside of the ring, having narrowly missed landing on his neck, which would have surely taken his miserable life. Despite this brush with death Christian begins to stir, thankful that Princeton is keeping Creed at bay inside of the ring.

This reprieve from his barbaric opponent only lasts until Christian pulls himself to the apron. The second he stands up Creed is on him like white on rice. Another chop or two are lobbed over the ropes right into Christian’s already reddened chest. The impact almost knocks him to the outside before Creed grabs him by the back of the head, charges him across the apron and bashes him face first into the outside ring post.

The stiff collision sends Christian spiraling off of the apron and somehow landing on his feet before finally spilling into the announce table. He leans on it for support, his eyes glassed over and his jaw dropped as a little blood dribbles from the corners.

Nathan now turns around to overlook the fans who are relishing at the sight of this brutality inflicted on the shattered Savior. They give him just the motivation he needs to rush across the ring into the far ropes, bouncing off to build a great deal of momentum.

Upon reaching the other side of the ring he dives through the ropes into the suicide headbunt eliciting a loud response. That reaction changes to harrowing wails as Savior steps out of the way and Creed crashes chest and face first into the announce table.

His body bounces violently off of the wood before he falls to his back across the mats, showing no signs of consciousness.

Comeau: OHHHH JESUS!

Moore: Are you ever going to give the Dahli Lama some love?

Mark: Creed may have just killed himself slamming into our announce table. This match needs to be stopped, it needs to be stopped NOW!

Mark’s pleas go unanswered as the official has no choice but to let this bout continue, realizing that if he stops it he’ll be in for the beating of his life from Nathan. The flickering eyes of the Future imply that he’s still alive at least. He actually begins to stir while the crowd watches anxiously, very concerned about his condition.

Now that his opponent is prone Savior steps in, shoving some absent minded photographers out of the way then taking Creed around the neck. He rolls him to his feet despite Nathan being absolute dead weight, then slaps on a front chancery. The back of Creed’s tights are snatched hold of before he’s hoisted into the implant DDT.

Mark: DAMMIT! Now the implant DDT onto the mats! Someone put an end to this already before Creed suffers debilitating head injuries.

Susie: Head injuries aren’t that bad. I’ve had plenty of them and they’ve never effected me.

Nathan’s eyes are as glazed as a Krispy Cream donut while he lays motionlessly across his back. The battered Savior rolls into the ring at this point and tries to take full advantage of his opponent’s prone, unconscious state by demanding the official do his job. By that he means count Creed out.

Princeton is in a hopeless predicament but does what’s obligated of him nevertheless, starting an impartial ten count.

Mark: Oh no. It would be a shame for Nathan’s title ambitions to end this way. But for the sake of his own well being, it may be necessitated.

Many of the fans are standing, slapping the steel plates of the barrier and trying their best to motivate Creed by chanting his name. It doesn’t seem to be working because Creed is still out like a light and the official is drawing ever so closer to a ten count.

He has now reached six without so much as a flinch or twitch from the Challenger. Savior begins to smile, some of his teeth stained by blood.

Princeton is now at eight, with all hopes for Creed winning the title flushing down the toilet. That’s until he shows signs of life, rolling sluggishly to his side and beginning to crawl towards the ring.

It may be too little too late as Princeton shouts “NINE.” He steps forward, the word ten dangling on his tongue until Creed slips into the ring, breaking the count and saving his World title shot.

Comeau: I don’t believe it, but Creed has beaten the count even after that gruesome dive into our announce table.

Susie: You can’t beat numbers, believe me, I tried decimating my Calculus book but it only gave me bruised knuckles.

Mark: You took Calculus?

Moore: No, but I use the book to hold up one end of my couch.

Creed now lays on the canvas, having spent up all his remaining energy to get back into the ring. An enraged Savior realizes this, therefore he takes him by the hair, rolls him to his knees and begins to deliver a succession of clubbing blows with both arms.

Each arm rapidly nails Creed over the back until he’s reduced to almost a gelatinous blob. That’s when Savior takes him by the back of the head and the tights, dragging him up to his feet. It’s at this point that Savior charges Nathan across the ring and throws him under the ropes into a slide.

Nathan now slides under the ropes and crashes down chest first right onto the outside mats. He doesn’t even have the strength to interpret his pain as he rolls agonizingly around the mats, his sternum perhaps fractured. This gives Savior some time to posture towards the crowd, rubbing their noses in his superiority.

The react without a single kind word for the World Champion who brushes them off, their reassurance unnecessary considering his confidence in his own greatness. All this preening allows Creed the time to drag himself up to his feet with the use of the apron.

Savior won’t let him stand for long, rushing in to deliver a baseball dropkick to his injured chest. That’s when Creed lifts the tarp hanging from the apron into the air, trapping Savior under it. Christian lands on his feet outside the ring but is stuck under the tarp as Creed lays into him with chops, headbunts and forearm strikes.

Every bit of his remaining energy is employed to brutalize Christian, who is unable to protect himself from this onslaught. Nathan’s resurgence brings the fans out of their seats, overjoyed as he nails all these shots on the stunned Christian.

It’s not until Creed is too exhausted to continue the onslaught that Savior is able to slip out from under the tarp and roll back into the ring. Nathan doesn’t want to let him get too far, quickly trying to re-enter the ring despite his body slowing him down.

He climbs to the apron and begins to slip through the ropes only to have Christian boot him hard to the face. The kick almost shatters Nathan’s nose before Savior takes him around the neck, drags him through the cables so that his ankles dangle over the middle rope then places him in a stunner position.

The fans explode as Savior nails an elevated diamond cutter off of the cables, dragging Creed face first into the ring with devastating effects. The disgusting collision sends Nathan rolling to his back, completely prone for a pin.

Comeau: An elevated diamond cutter off of those ropes! Creed won’t be coming back to life after that one.

Moore: If only he knew Dr. Herbert West.

Nathan is wide eyed as he rolls to his back, possibly suffering brain damage. Savior crawls into the cover, hooking both legs while the crowd covers their faces, unable to bear watching their hero get pinned.

1

2

The arena almost explodes outward from the cheers as Nathan heroically lobs his shoulder from the ring. Saviors sits up teeming with disbelief and anxiety.

Mark: How the hell does Creed keep doing it?

Susie: Maybe he does know Dr. Herbert West, and maybe he can give me one of those green slime syringes.

After spouting off some insults at Princeton he turns his attention back to Creed, snatching hold of his hair. He sits him up on the canvas then drags him into the corner, wedging him spine first against it before slapping him disgracefully to the cheek.

Savior: You want to pretend you have amnesia, well now your about to really suffer it friend.

Christian grabs the top rope and begins to deliver repeated knee strikes to Nathan’s face, the fans booing this shameful display. The referee is forced yet again to intervene, Princeton dragging Savior backwards out of the corner only to have Christian shove him away and lunge back in.

He grabs the top rope, hops off the middle cable and swings down knee first into Creed’s skull yet again. If Nathan wasn’t suffering brain damage he is now, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and drool seeping down his chin. Savior realizes this as the official yet again pulls him back to the center of the ring.

Christian gives him a scornful glare as Princeton checks on Creed’s condition, trying to determine if this match can continue or not. His inability to make up his mind causes Savior to step in, grab Nathan’s legs, place them over his shoulders and try to make Princeton’s decision for him by pulling Creed out of the corner into a sit-out powerbomb.

Savior leans forward into the back of Nathan’s knees for the pin as the official is forced to make the count.

1

2

To the astonishment of everyone, in particular Christian, Nathan is able to launch his shoulder clear from the canvas yet again.

Comeau: And Nathan still able to kick out. This is borderline inhuman.

Susie: Maybe Nathan is an alien, and he comes from a planet where dentistry is outlawed.

Several of the fans are on their feet slapping the barricades and trying their hardest to rally behind the possibly injured Creed, who shows little signs of life. Savior is animated enough for the both of them, as he stands then immediately proceeds with stomps.

His boot connects to Creed’s ankle, then to his knee, then to his ribs, then to his chest, the Rising Phoenix moving all around him delivering these blows. Finally he lunges into the air, delivering a version of the double stomp straight to Nathan’s ribcage.

The stomp knocks every bit of air out of Creed’s lunges sending him wide eyed into the ropes. The wheels in Creed’s head no longer spin as he pulls instinctively at the cables, trying to get up. Throughout this painstaking, laborious ordeal, Christian stands back watching Creed try feebly to get up.

Somehow the Future manages to stand only long enough to turn right into a roaring elbow. The point of Christian’s elbow connects straight against Nathan’s face, knocking him to the canvas. The World Champion stands over him wearing that same sickening smirk, thoroughly enjoying the punishment he’s now inflicting on the Future.

Mark: I’m telling you this match cannot continue for much longer. Creed is in absolutely no condition to wrestle after he slammed into our announce table earlier. He just hasn’t been the same.

The referee keeps Christian at bay as he checks on the Challenger’s condition. Although Nathan’s eyes have almost rolled to the back of his head he takes the shirt of Princeton and mumbles “don’t stop this match.” Princeton steps back and shrugs towards Christian, who is stunned that the referee is letting this continue.

Christian: Alright then. What I do to him is on your head!

Savior approaches his borderline unconscious opponent, taking him around the neck and sitting him up on the canvas. Almost immediately he locks his arms around his neck and applies your basic, but always effective dragon sleeper.

To his astonishment though, Creed tries to counter by dropping over sideways. Unfortunately, all this does is allow Christian to transition into a camel clutch variation of the dragon sleeper, now seated over his rival’s back. If Creed still had the ability to speak he would be crying out in pain currently, but the only thing excreted from his lips is saliva, Nathan drooling on himself like a man suffering severe brain damage.

It’s not until the referee asks him if he wants to quit that Creed’s spirit is renewed, motivating him to try and stand up yet again. This flusters Savior to transition into a front chancery then flip forward. He now bridges backwards over top of Creed’s body and pulls up on his chin with a bridging rear chin lock.

Comeau: Although I want to see Christian dipped in bubbling acid, I still got to say he’s an excellent technical wrestler, demonstrated by this unique submission variation.

Susie: Silly Mark, if you dump him in acid he’ll just end up looking like the Joker, or having super powers.

The flesh tone of Nathan’s face is going a bright shade of red, his eyes beginning to close as he fades into unconsciousness thanks to the blinding pain of this hold.

Princeton is getting closer and closer to calling for the bell as Nathan almost slips into unconsciousness. Savior can feel him fading, enticing him to put even greater pressure into the hold by pulling back further on the chin. As Creed’s neck is about to snap his eyes suddenly open wind, getting his third or fourth wind at this point.

Although every inch of his body trembles, Creed reaches out and sinks his claws into the canvas, beginning to drag himself and Savior towards the ropes. If Christian wasn’t mad before now he’s at a Hulk level of rage, but no matter how many times he drags on the chin Nathan will not be stopped. He pulls himself towards the ropes with eyes fluttering but his heart beating harder than ever.

His fingers reach out for the ropes but they are too far away. Even though Christian realizes his opponent can reach the ropes he still flips backwards, landing on his knees in front of Creed’s face. He pulls up on his head at this point and then slams Creed’s skull down right into the canvas. He lifts the head again and once more drives it temple first against the ring.

Princeton tries to stop this barbaric act, but the official’s pleas only entice Christian to begin delivering knee strikes to the top of Nathan’s head. He now goes as far as to stand, rush into the ropes, lunge into the air and come down from a good height crashing knee first directly into the back of Creed’s cranium.

Nathan begins to convulse as a result before Savior stands up, backs into a nearby corner, climbs to the second rope and launches himself off into an even higher knee drop.

Mark: Stop this ref, stop this! Savior is trying to permanently injure Creed! He’s trying to take away his livelihood.

After connecting with the second rope knee drop, Savior rolls forward across the ring then scrambles back towards his ailing opponent. Nathan is shoved to his back with Christian crawling on top of him into a lateral press, hooking the leg in the process.

1

2

Creed somehow musters what remaining strength he has left to get a shoulder up, even though his skull may be shattered.

This elicits another angered response from Savior, who stands up and swipes his arms through the air, implying that he’s hand enough.

In anger he takes Creed by the hair, forcing him up to his feet and then whipping him right into the turnbuckle where he meets the corner at great velocity. The Rising Phoenix now steps in, wedging his hands to Creed’s ribs and putting him up on the top rope.

Nathan’s addled body sways back and forth, his eyes still glazed and saliva still seeping from the corner of his mouth. The only thing keeping him in this match thus far is sheer will to survive. Christian takes him by the back of the head at this point and nails him with a European Uppercut, yet the Champ prevents his opponent from falling off the turnbuckle.

He now interlocks his hands behind Creed’s head and pulls him down so they are eye to eye.

Savior: Time for you to pay just like Krissie did.

Savior turns his back on the Challenger, and takes him around his severally battered skull, putting him in position for that same super diamond cutter that finished off Craven last week. Without an inkling of remorse and to the wails of the audience, Savior charges forward to hit the death nail on Creed.

He finds himself puzzled however, as he steps forward and feels nothing on his shoulder, not even Creed’s chin. Nathan squirms free at the last second, landing on his feet behind Christian, taking him around the waist and connecting with a German suplex that sends Savior flying back first into the turnbuckle.

Mark: Creed still has life! What a German into the corner!

Susie: NIN! See, I can be German too, now all I need is one of those funny little mustaches.

Christian’s eyes are bugging out of his skull thanks to the pain as he leans back first into the turnbuckle he was just suplexed into. Somehow he remains upright while his opponent rolls around on the canvas in front of him. That desperation counter used up Nathan’s reserve, forcing him to operate on the fumes of his willpower. It’s still enough to get him back to his feet and overlooking the crowd through glassed over eyes.

They are rallied in support around him as he turns around towards Savior, who somehow still has the wherewithal to charge out of the corner for a clothesline. Creed ducks it and turns his back to the turnbuckle, falling against it for support. Despite the pain in his back Savior turns around and rushes forward for a Yakuza kick but his boot misses its mark.

Nathan ducks it and catches his leg over his shoulder, powering Savior up into the air as he rushes out of the turnbuckle and delivers the capture back breaker across his elevated knee. The Manhattan Center explodes at the sight of the move that causes Christian to writhe in agony across the canvas.

Mark: Another EXPLOSIVE move from Nathan, but he is far too battered to follow up.

Just as Mark speculated, Nathan is incapable of going for the pin. He rests on his elbows and knees, trying to shake off all the blows he’s taken to the cranium. This doesn’t stop Savior from getting up still holding his back in terrible pain.

Despite taking both those back breaking moves he’s still the fresher of the two. He rushes into the ropes, bounces off and comes back in at Creed for a kick on his kneeling opponent only to have Nathan stand up and catch him in a fireman’s carry before throwing him up into the air and dropping to his back with knees held up. Christian comes crashing down with a gut buster across both of the elevated knees.

He bounces off and stands, doubled over his battered mid-section then turning towards Nathan who rolled back to his feet before charging in with a head splitting big boot. The sound of Creed’s foot connecting to skull echoes throughout the arena and sends Savior almost flipping completely over backwards.

Savior crashes down across his stomach while Nathan lands on his back at the Champion’s side. The emotion from the screaming fans motivates him to push Christian to his back and crawl into the lateral press for the pin. The fans count along as the referee slaps the canvas.

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Savior kicks out just before Princeton’s hand can meet the canvas for a third time.

Mark: Ohhh and Nathan’s comeback almost wins him the World Championship. Savior barely got his shoulder up on that exchange.

Susie: He didn’t win? When am I ever going to be able to bust out my celebratory kazoos?

Nathan is still hampered by his damaged skull even as he rises to his feet and steps over the kneeling World Champion. He takes him now by the hair, bridging him up to his feet right into a dragon sleeper predicament. It’s clear now that he’s setting up for the Upset, resulting in a rousing reaction. He is right on the verge of hitting it before Christian tries to counter, pushing himself up into the air with the use of his legs.

Savior tries to back flip and float over Creed’s shoulder, but the second he kicks himself up into the air Creed falls to his side, connecting with a rolling cutter on the elevated Champion. Christian’s face is driven with tremendous velocity thanks to the modified roll of the dice, causing him to roll to his back just as wide eyed as Nathan was moments ago.

Nathan can feel it as he crawls desperately into the cover, hooking the leg, the title mere moments from changing hands.

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3

The title STAYS where it is, Savior kicking out just before the three count. The fans are amazed by Savior’s recuperative capabilities but are given cause to cheer as Nathan takes him by the hair, and again pulls him up into position for the Upset.

Creed is intent on delivering his finisher and walking right into Paranoia as World Champion. He now swings around with his arm to connect with his version of the Eye of the Hurricane only to have Savior squirm out of the reverse front chancery.

Nathan’s momentum causes him to turn his back on Christian, who reaches out and takes his opponent around the jaw, going for the reverse facebuster. Before he can connect Creed grabs the wrists of his rival, pries his hands apart from his jaw then drops to his knees and flips Savior over top of him.

The modified arm drag sends Savior rolling forward across the canvas right into the turnbuckle. He desperately begins to drag himself up the ropes, standing just as Nathan comes barreling towards him. That’s when Savior gets his foot up, Creed’s jaw rushing right into it.

He bounces off and turns his back to Savior who reaches out with his legs, wrapping them around the Challenger’s neck. To his shock Creed steps out of the corner, now holding Savior in an electric chair drop position before pushing on his leg and twisting him around into a fireman’s carry. The crowd erupts as Nathan rushes forward and throws Savior up into the air, dropping to his back with his knees elevated for another gut buster.

Savior catches some great hang time, more than enough for him to twist around in mid-air and come down with a double stomp right to Nathan’s ribcage.

Mark: OOOOOH, DID YOU SEE THAT!?!

Susie: What, what? Was it a Power Ranger? How do I always miss these things.

A “holy shit” chant has commenced from the crowd at the sight of that amazing counter as Christian stands, grabs Nathan’s legs and flips forward into the jackknife cover. Princeton makes the count while the fans scream nervously, hopping this isn’t the end.

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3

Savior has done it….no he hasn’t, Creed has kicked out even after that rib shattering double stomp. Savior cannot believe this as the official informs him that the match will continue.

With his chest heaving in despair, and his body already exhausted from this tremendous effort, Savior rolls across the ring and coils on the canvas like a snake ready to strike.

He urges Creed upward, licking his lips in anticipation as the Challenger tries feebly to stand. Creed’s legs are barely able to keep him upright as he turns and walks right into a jab to the forehead, followed by another hard blow then a chop across his own sternum.

The malicious strike sends Nathan spiraling towards the ropes, his back facing his nemesis who tries to display his agility by jumping to Creed’s shoulders. He lands on his seat across the back of Creed’s neck, preparing for the reverse hurricarana.

That’s when the Future wedges his hands to the back of Savior’s thighs and shoves him up and over his head. He catches the small of Christian’s back against his chest, wraps his arms around his waist then falls back into a bridging German suplex.

The crowd is amazed by this move as Creed continues to bridge back into the pinning predicament.

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3!

To the astonishment of all this gathered in the Manhattan Center, Savior is still able to muster his shoulder from the canvas just before the count.

Comeau: What a unique German suplex variation by Creed, who was seemingly seconds from winning that World Heavyweight Title and main eventing Paranoia VI.

Susie: Savior’s so light, he’s like a ballerina, without the tutu.

The German leaves Savior in a truly stunned state as he rolls backwards to his knees with a recovered Creed stepping up in front of him. He hooks one arm and then the other before throwing Christian up into the air for the Tiger Bomb. However, at the last second Savior catches Creed around the neck with his legs and falls back into a pinning hurricarana. To the World Champion’s dismay his challenger rolls through, causing Savior to end up on his back with Nathan seated on the canvas, wedging his shoulders to the back of his rival’s knees.

That’s when he stands up and tries to step through Savior’s legs, attempting to establish the Against All Odds. His finishing submission is mere moments from being applied until Christian bends his knees, causing Creed to lean forward where he’s raked across the eyes.

This blatant cheating sends Nathan spiraling backwards, trying to protect his damaged retinas while Savior rolls in reverse to his feet then comes barreling towards his rival for the Blaze of Glory. The wails from the crowd are deafening as Nathan turns right into the spear from his rival. But no, wait, Creed was able to side step the inbound Champion and perform a standing switch of sorts.

He steps behind the inbound Savior, locks his arms around his waist then drops back, flipping Christian completely over with a release German suplex.

Comeau: Creed countering the spear into a devastating German suplex. This is just the opening he needs to fulfill his destiny.

Moore: Isn’t that like the nine hundredth time you’ve said that?

Mark: How dare you accuse me of being repetitive, Miss “First Time Ever.”

The fans are unanimous in their support for Creed, as he struggles to his feet and proceeds to run his thumb across his throat, signaling for the diving headbunt. The Ode to Benoit is meant with even louder applause as Creed staggers towards the corner, slips through the ropes and triumphantly climbs the turnbuckle.

The fans can feel it, realizing that Nathan is mere moments from acquiring the World Championship as he balances himself on the top rope. Creed now takes flight with a breath stealing dive, soaring the ENTIRE length of the ring before connecting with a headbunt directly to the Champion’s chest.

As Savior goes into convulsing fits on the canvas and Creed rolls towards the ropes; the roof to the Manhattan Center is almost blown clean off by the ovation. The walls shake as the fans cheer, realizing that Nathan has connected with the headbunt and is now mere moments from securing the World title.

Comeau: The swan dive headbunt connected, a new World Champion is about to be crowned!

Susie: Finally, these kazoos were getting dusty.

Creed is unable to go for the pin right away even though Savior is completely at his mercy. His cranium is killing him thanks to all it endured in this title match and the fact that it was just used to finish off his rival. He can feel the tide changing, the title within his grasp he utilizes the ropes to stand.

A photographer snaps a few shots of his face then snaps his camera right against Creed’s forehead.

Mark: WHAT!?! WAIT!

The referee did not see this transpire, busy checking the Champion’s condition as Nathan rolls to the center of the ring, his face busted open thanks to that shot with the photo camera.

Comeau: What just happened!?!

Moore: I think that camera-man took the term “close-up” too literally.

The photographer backs up and throws down his shattered camera, his large black cap, his fake beard and his thick glasses, revealing him as Pat Evans.

Mark: NOO! That ringside photographer was Pat Evans! I thought he was thrown out thanks to putting his hands on Douglas earlier.

Susie: Where do these guys get these wonderful disguises?

The fans are floored by what they are seeing as the seething Evans backs up the ramp, throwing off his black “IWC” t-shirt. His cold eyes are locked on Nathan who is now sprawled across his back bleeding heavily from the forehead. That’s when Christian pulls himself across the ring right into the cover, draping his arm across Creed’s sternum.

To a hailstorm of boos official Princeton is forced to make the count.

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Mark: It CAN’T end like this.

3!

All those in the Manhattan Center are dejected before their ovation drastically changes, collectively realizing that Creed just got his shoulder up before the three count.

Mark: Your KIDDING ME, Creed just kicked out!

Susie: MCCHICKENS!

Savior sits up on the canvas with his face flushed as white as a sheet in a snowstorm. His lower lip trembles and his breathes are uneasy, unable to figure out how this match is continuing even after Creed took a shot to the head with that camera.

Pat looks equally as stunned on the outside of the ramp, frozen by this improbable kick out. Creed now begins to stir with the entirety of the Manhattan Center chanting his name, rallied solidly behind him. They are upright, stomping their feet, slapping the barricades, trying to give Creed the drive to get up and keep going on despite the numerous injuries he’s suffered to the skull.

That’s just what he’s doing, Nathan rolling to his elbows and knees, trying desperately to get up even as blood oozes down his cheeks.

Mark: I don’t know how Creed is doing this. He’s digging down REAL deep to get up after all he’s been put through in this amazing World title match.

A primal roar is emitted from Nathan as he forces himself to his feet and stares through his blood at all the screaming fans. He now spins towards Savior and walks right into the code breaker. Nathan’s already damaged head slams against Savior’s raised knees, knocking all of the energy and fight straight out of his body.

He drops to his back, sprawled across the ring in a bloody heap as Savior crawls into the cover, hooking both legs for the pin and stomping his feet to the canvas to urge the ref to make a quicker count.

Princeton drops and makes the count with the fans still wailing.

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Comeau: Does Nathan have another miracle left in him?

3!

It’s finally over, Nathan has finally been defeated.

Mark: Dammit, Creed so close to victory but in the end his brain was too rattled to kick out of Savior’s code breaker. Nathan’s destiny has been derailed and now Christian will walk into Paranoia VI with the World title in hand.

Susie: Why did I have to buy a lifetime supply of kazoos? I never even get to use them.

Savior is showered in boos from the crowd even as the World title belt is bestowed unto him by Princeton. He snatches it away from the official and pulls it in close to his cheek, almost sobbing over his reunion with the gold he fought so hard to retain here tonight.

His glorious moment is short lived when he looks up to the top of the ramp where his teammate Evans is standing and running his fingers across his waist, making a title belt motion. The sentiment is not well received from Savior, who looks panicked even in this moment of celebration.

Behind his back Creed is stirring yet again, blood mixing with sweat as it trickles down his face to the canvas. It’s beginning to dawn on him that he’s been robbed of the World Championship and of his ultimate destiny.

Comeau: A twisted ending to an utterly fantastic World title bout here tonight. Creed came so very close to walking away as World Champion, but thanks to the Conspiracy, namely Evans, it was not to be here tonight. What a controversial event we’ve witnessed this evening.

Susie: It’s been as controversial as a Britney Spears crotch shot.

The tense stare-down between Savior and Evans continues while Creed’s troubled mind struggles with the magnitude of this loss. To make matters all the more perplexing, Dan Douglas now steps through the curtains and stops at Pat’s side. He places a hand on Evans’ shoulder, leaving Christian all the more puzzled. Obviously the World Champion isn’t taking too kindly to the sudden closeness between Evans and Douglas.

FADE TO BLACK