NO MORE CONTROVERSY

Mark Comeau: This is INSANITY!

Before the standard opening video can run or any pyros can dazzle the fans, Nathan Creed and Pat Evans find themselves brawling towards the ring. Fists fly between them, exchanging a fury of shots as they reach the ringside area. Evans falls back against the apron as Creed chops him across the chest then drills him under the jaw with a right hand.

Comeau: Nathan attacking Evans for screwing him out of the World title. Emotions running out of control right off the bat.

Susie Moore: This is crazier than a cat fight between Rose O’Donnell and Elizabeth Hasselback.

Mark: I’m pretty sure that reference is ALREADY dated.

Evans fights back with jabs of his own but nothing can stop the uncontrolled frenzy of the vengeful Creed. The more he persists the more brutality is inflicted upon him, Evans now trying to cover up his head to protect from the blows. Nathan’s fists fly one after the other with jaw shattering results, looking to not only vindicate his World Title loss, but also the attack on Krissie McMorris a few weeks ago.

Mark: Nathan is just decimating this soulless human being.

Susie: I knew Pat was a zombie, the smell alone was a clear cut indicator.

Every vein in Nathan’s body is visible, protruding out of his dark red skin, while steam prepares to shoot from his ears like he were a tea kettle left on the stove for far too long. His homicidal goals go unfulfilled though as the Conspiracy’s private security force intervenes.

They quickly pounce on Creed, grabbing his and waist, feebly trying to subdue him. He breaks away easily though and jumps right back on Evans, blasting him repeatedly to the jaw with forearm shivers. Evans fights back with fists of his own before Nathan is once again subdued by security.

Comeau: Oh come on, this is ridiculous.

Moore: But I always wear socks on my hands, not only do I save on buying mittens, but the odor is intoxicating.

It takes the combined effort of some six riot clad guards to force Nathan away from Evans but they finally achieve their objective. It’s at this point that Dan Douglas comes rushing down the ramp and moving around security who has a firm grasp on the unstable Creed.

At the mere sight of Douglas, Nathan tries to lunge free but is now too tightly held. Evans is roaring obscenities and insults at Nathan as Dan slaps him on the shoulder and motions to the ring. Pat stops jaw-jacking and slides under the ropes while his employer moves up the stairs to the apron, microphone gripped in hand and eyes locked on the former number one contender.

Fans: LET THEM FIGHT, LET THEM FIGHT, LET THEM FIGHT!

Douglas: No, HELL NO!

The crowd heckles Douglas without remorse as he dashes their hopes and stops at Pat’s side. Evans is still kneeling on the canvas, holding the bumps on his skull and meeting eyes with the struggling Creed.

Dan: They’re not going to fight tonight, nor any other night for that matter, because Pat Evans has bigger fish to fry.

Nathan’s muscles tremble, his skin almost pulsating.

Douglas: Pat Evans is in HIGH demand as we make our way to Paranoia VI.

Dan puts a hand on Pat’s shoulder as he slowly stands beside him.

Dan: So he’s not going to waste anymore of his precious time on traitors like you, Creed.

An accusative finger is directed at the steaming Nathan.

Douglas: He’s got a title match to gear up for. That’s right, I said a title match.

The crowd quiets, fearfully listening for Dan’s explanation.

Dan: The number one contenders match between Johnny Kingdom and Orlando Cruze settled NOTHING. In fact, it just made things even MORE controversial than they already were. So I’m nipping it in the bud right this second. Orlando Cruze is not the number one contender for the World Heavyweight title.

The second half of his revelation is almost drowned out by the boos.

Douglas: I’ve decided that we need a respectable number one contender with some longevity to his career, someone who doesn’t win by virtue of assistance from his friends. Therefore, at Paranoia VI, it’ll be an AAAAALLLL Conspiracy MAIN EVENT! It’ll be Pat Evans challenging Christian Savior for the World Heavyweight Championship!

If words could kill both Douglas and Evans would be six feet under, the crowd unleashing their verbal animosity.

Mark: Your joking.

Moore: No, I really can fit my whole foot in my mouth.

Comeau: I’m not talking about that, and that’s not your foot.

Susie: Oh, that’s why it tasted salty.

Comeau: Douglas cannot do this. He cannot strip Orlando of his World Title shot and give it to Evans, this is a gross misuse of power.

Nathan cannot believe his ears, more motivated now than ever to break free from security and get his hands on the Conspiracy members in the ring. Evans cackles over the announcement, brimming with joy over his impending title match.

Douglas: That’s why I told security to keep you at ringside, Nathan, so that you would hear my monumental decision, but wait, there’s even more. I’m not through with Orlando by a long-shot. After he manipulated my poor feeble minded Sallie, I see now that he’s far too great a liability. If he’s going to retire, he’s going to retire on MY terms, not his.

The fans clearly do not like where this is going.

Dan: He’s not going out at Paranoia, he’s going out right here tonight! Because when Evans beats him in that lumberjack match, Orlando Cruze will be FIRED on the spot.

The sadistic grin that comes to Dan’s face repulses everyone forced to witness it. Evans is even more amused than ever while Creed stews with the impact of what he just heard.

Comeau: Now Orlando’s career is at stake tonight!

Moore: I hope he sells it on e-bay.

Douglas: Tonight the world will witness Orlando’s final match, but more importantly, Evans’ ascension into the record books!

Douglas throws down the mic and steps back, clapping at Evans as the new number one contender cracks a grin.

OPENING VIDEO

The show returns live to the interior of the Manhattan Center where the crowd is somewhat subdued. They are unsure of how to react to what just unfolded.

Mark: Riot! officially underway and I wish we could just dismiss everything that happened before the opening video.

Moore: It’s already forgotten. Really, it is? Did it have something to do with Oscar the Grouch?

Comeau: If by Oscar the Grouch you mean Pat Evans, then yes, yes it did. Douglas has crossed the line tonight with his bias decision making, and it just makes me physically ill. Not only has Orlando Cruze been stripped of his World title shot, but now he’s forced to put his career on the line in the main event. I can tell you we’re not off to a very promising start thus far.

KATELYN BUEHLER VS. ROBIN BROOKS

Hollywood Whore by Papa Roach hits and Katelyn Buehler steps out with her head lowered, looking to the entrance obviously at Porno Lad.

Hollywood whore, passed out on the floor
I’m sorry but the partys over

cocaine nose and trendy clothes
gotta send her to rehab
she found out she has no soul,
but it really doesn't bother her

Katelyn shakes off the hateful words at the song that was selected for her obviously by her Porno Lad. She walks to the ring cautiously looking both nervous and fearful. Porno Lad follows right behind, oddly decked out in a rather extravagant suit for a change, his newly won N.H.B Championship adorning his shoulder.

white trash queen, american dream
oh what a role model
throwing a fit, making a scene
like no tomorrow

After some deliberation she enters the ring, Porno Lad lingering outside of it. She turns towards him for some last minute advice on this HUGE match but the loveable prankster isn’t entirely forthcoming.

Porno Lad: Just don’t suck.

Katelyn shrugs, wondering how that can even be considered strategy.

Comeau: The somewhat unstable duo of Porno Lad and Katelyn Buehler coming out here for our opening match. Hopefully this will get our minds off what happened at the beginning of the show.

Moore: I stopped thinking about it the moment I saw that bright shinny sparkly over Porno Lad’s shoulder. Although it would look better on Ladder.

Mark: This will be Katelyn’s first actual wrestling match, and she may have bit off more than she can chew.

Susie: That happens to me a lot, my baby teeth aren’t very strong.

Porno Lad continues to be relatively tight lipped outside of the ring when “The Game” by Disturbed hits, bringing the audience to their feet in an expression of unanimous rage. To the stage emerges the NEW Submission Champion, Robin Brooks, closely followed by her dimwitted fiancée, Hurse. He stares longingly at the Submission title held elegantly over Robin’s forearm as she employs a queen like waltz towards the ring. Porno Lad glances over his shoulder at the approaching performers, winking in a suddenly horrified Hurse’s direction. The Black Widow marches right past Porno Lad, watching him from the corner of her eye as she ascends to the apron and through the ropes. She leaves Hurse standing before Porno Lad, tentatively threatening his rival while quickly backing away.

Comeau: This match big for a variety of reasons. Not only will we see the newly anointed Submission Champion Robin Brooks in action, but if the Black Widow is victorious then Porno Lad will have to cease and desist any involvement in her wedding.

Moore: Thank God I got one of those tit shaped menus just in case. I have it framed and plagued. It’s hanging over my fireplace.

Mark: Wonderful. Let’s see what these two ladies can do with their feuding significant others located at ringside.

Porno Lad and Hurse now stand on opposite sides of the ring watching the action unfold but also keeping their eye on one another. The arrogant Brooks hands over her Submission title belt to referee Wright then gives Katelyn an “are you serious” type of stare.

The bell now sounds as a hesitant Katelyn moves towards Brooks, the two going nose to nose, exchanging words. That’s when Brooks pie faces her and sends Beuhler plummeting to her bum. Robin stoops over Katelyn, mocking her by pretending to cry, rubbing the sides of her clinched fists against her eyes.

That’s when Katelyn drops to her back and wedges her feet to Robin’s sternum. She employs all her strength to kick Robin and send her staggering backwards into the ropes. Katelyn rolls in reverse to her feet and rushes into the ropes beside the stumbling Brooks. As Robin hits off the cables, her opponent bounces off beside her, snatches the back of her hair and hits a one handed bulldog that brings the fans to life.

Comeau: Big one handed bulldog on Brooks. I’m almost stunned, I didn’t think Katelyn had it in her.

Susie: I didn’t think she had anything in her after we spent twenty minutes in the bathroom purging ourselves.

A stunned Robin rolls to her back while Katelyn scrambles into the cover, hooking her leg by finding a way to even foul that up. She doesn’t lift high enough on the leg or lean back onto Robin, just sitting at her side as the ref makes the count.

1

2

The Black Widow kicks out to a dejected reaction. Katelyn sits up looking like a little girl who just lost her balloon.

Mark: Katelyn almost scoring the win! This is amazing.

A lost Katelyn looks for answers from Porno Lad, asking her what she should do next, having exhausted her repertoire.

Porno Lad: I don’t know, do something with a twist dumbass.

Porno Lad passes on his guidance with a shrug of his shoulder. On the opposite side of the ring Hurse frantically slaps the apron, trying to motivate Robin to get up. She begins to stir, still feeling the effects of that bulldog while Katelyn steps in and takes her around the neck.

Katelyn: HIIIIYAAAA!

She snapmares Robin over her shoulder by the hair and to the canvas. Brooks lands across her bum and immediately reaches for her posterior, Katelyn looking towards Porno Lad once again.

Porno Lad: Yeah, yeah, more of that.

She takes Robin around the neck and pulls her once again to her feet, delivering a second snapmare. Once again Brooks crashes across her spine, reaching for her kidneys until she’s subjected to some horrible looking stomps. Katelyn can barely keep her balance as she delivers stomp after stomp to the prone Black Widow’s body.

Finally she snatches hold of the Champion’s hair, drags her to her feet and attempts to hit, you guessed it, another snapmare.

Katelyn: HIIIYAAAA!

This time Robin flips forward out of the snapmare and lands right on her feet, quickly turning around and delivering a running knee strike to Katelyn’s face. The beautiful but unskilled Buehler rolls around on the canvas in a state of physical agony.

Comeau: Katelyn ran the well dry on that move. I guess when you only know one wrestling maneuver you run the risk of it being easily countered.

Moore: That’s why I learned TWO moves, of course their just variations of a crotch claw.

Mark: Feel free to practice them on me.

Katelyn continues to hold her surgically perfected nose as she rolls out of the ring to the apron. She now feebly tries to stand up, employing the cables as a crutch, eyes frantically turning towards Porno Lad.

Porno Lad: Quit asking me questions and get back in there.

Porno Lad wedges his hand to Katelyn’s bum and shoves her back into the ring through the ropes. Coincidentally Robin was charging in at that exact moment and as Katelyn launches through the ropes her head nails the Champion to the ribs.

Brooks doubles over, gripping at her gut in horrid pain. All the while Katelyn has rolled to her knees, looking around in a state of shock over her unintentional offensive move. She grabs the top of her noggin, realizing how hard it is and now rushes at Robin’s mid-section for yet another headbunt.

To her dismay Robin side-steps Katelyn and delivers a knee lift directly to her face. The collision causes the untrained vixen to stand upright asking the referee to take her soup order. That’s when Brooks charges back in and connects with a running STO back breaker.

Katelyn screams as her back bends awkwardly over Robin’s knee. She remains stretched over the knee of her opposition until Brooks stands her up, steps to her side and connects with a reverse Russian leg sweep. Beuhler is slammed face first into the canvas before rolling lifelessly to her back.

Comeau: The Black Widow’s superior in ring knowledge getting the better of Beuhler.

Moore: Beuhler, Beuhler, Beuhler, Beuhler…..mwahahaha, I’ve been dying to do that. Take that Ben Stein!

The obnoxious laughter emitting from Hurse is loud enough for everyone in the building to hear, including Porno Lad. The prankster is less and less impressed by his former girlfriend’s performance, enticing him to shout some encouraging words.

Porno Lad: Come on Katelyn, you think you’d be tired of lying on your back by now!

He slaps the apron to send home his message but Katelyn is adhere to it. She is forced to her feet by Robin who pulls her into a knee to the ribs, the shot doubling her over forehead. The Submission Champion takes off into the ropes, bouncing off then lunging forward into a scissors kick that connects right across the back of Katelyn’s head.

The defenseless diva tumbles to the ring, once again her face splattering across the canvas. She rolls to her back while Robin stands over her, having her way with the ill-prepared opponent.

She even goes as far as to point at the turnbuckle, signifying her next maneuver considering that Katelyn is incapable of stopping her at this point. The fans are flustered as Robin approaches the turnbuckle, slips through the apron and begins to scale to the top rope.

Hurse: Oh yeah baby, prepare for the piece de resistance!

The reaction elicited from Hurse’s braggadocios demeanor is that of heckles, even as Robin stands upright on the turnbuckle and prepares to unleash a move of unbridled beauty. She now takes flight, flipping through air for the Flying Star (Shooting Star Press).

Flashbulbs erupt in the crowd at the sight of Brooks soaring through the air and ultimately meeting nothing but canvas. Without Robin’s knowledge, Katelyn had grabbed the referee’s slacks and as she stepped away he unintentionally pulled her up to her seat, getting out of the way of the shooting star press.

Comeau: What rare luck for Katelyn. She avoided the shooting star press and all she has to do now is go for the pin.

A groaning Robin writhes on the canvas, turning to her back as her body balls up. The damage inflicted on Katelyn’s head leaves her too disorientated to remain seated, so she falls back conveniently right on top of her opponent.

1

Hurse: NO NO NO NO NO!

2

Robin launches her shoulder from the canvas, preventing defeat.

Mark: Ohhh, and once again Katelyn almost had her.

Susie: She’s like a potato chip, she’s a meal you can’t finish.

Comeau: Uh, erm, interesting analogy?

Surprisingly some of the fans have actually started a “Katelyn” chant, although it’s incredibly short lived. She sluggishly rolls to her elbows and knees, desperately trying to stand up as Porno Lad continues to motivate her.

Porno Lad: Get off your knees Katelyn, now is not the time for that type of thing.

Katelyn stands up while Robin tries to do the same, her ribs still killing her after that splash. She steps in for a right hand only to have Katelyn kick her to her sore ribs. Brooks doubles over as Katelyn slaps her to one side of the face, then the other, employing her best weapons, her palms.

Porno Lad stares at Hurse with a big smile on his face.

Porno Lad: Better set up an extra table at your wedding, and I’d prefer a seat close to the band.

Hurse fumes over these insinuations while inside of the ring Katelyn continues to unload with slaps to Robin’s head. The Black Widow tries to protect herself before she’s taken around the head, Beuhler setting for her version of the X-Factor.

She jumps into the air to deliver the move only to have Robin wedge her hands to her opponent’s ribs and shove her off. Katelyn flies backwards and surprisingly lands on her feet as the champion comes barreling towards her. That’s when Beuhler jumps into the air and crashes down on top of Robin with a Lou Thez Press. She mounts Robin’s ribs and begins to hit rights and lefts to her face.

Porno Lad: That’s right baby, lay on top of her! That’s hot.

Hurse: It really kinda is.

Hurse shrugs, unable to argue with Porno Lad’s disgusting logic. Inside of the ring Brooks is still trying to protect herself from the hailstorm of rights and lefts from Katelyn who now stands up and does her best Stone Cold Steve Austin impersonation. She flails her arms and rushes into the ropes, bouncing off and coming back in at the laid out Brooks before dropping a forearm right into her face.

The collision sends Robin flopping around on the ring, trying to protect her features which have taken a vicious beating thus far.

Mark: Katelyn could actually pull this off; Porno Lad may be able to continue tormenting Robin Brooks and Hurse.

Susie: Yay, it’s so much fun watching Hurse cry.

Robin is gripping at her swollen nose as Katelyn rushes into the ropes behind her, bounces off and jumps into the air for another one handed bulldog. This time Brooks pushes her off though, causing her opponent to come crashing down across her back where she lays in agony.

There is no time for Katelyn to recover as Robin rushes in and flips through the air. She NAILS the standing shooting star press, crashing on top of Beuhler’s ribs and knocking all the air out of her body.

Mark: Looks like I spoke too soon.

After hitting the move Robin rolls over Katelyn’s legs and grabs hold of them. She swings around the limbs and drops back, applying the very same figure four leg lock that caused Evermore to tap out. Hurse is jumping around excitedly, yelping like a wounded cheerleader. Porno Lad watches on with apathy.

Comeau: The figure four locked in.

Moore: That looks as painful as battery cables hooked to my nipples.

Katelyn thrashes around screaming in pain, having no idea how she can possibly escape this dreaded submission hold. It dawns on her that with her limited ring knowledge she has no other option, slapping the canvas repeatedly. The crowd boos, realizing that not only did Beuhler just loose, but she took Porno Lad out of the wedding equation.

Comeau: And Katelyn forced to submit despite a valiant effort in her very first match.

Moore: Oh no, now Porno Lad can’t bring the dancing pandas to Robin’s wedding.

After a few moments Brooks breaks the submission and rolls to her feet, both arms held aloft in victory. Hurse scoots up beside her on his knees, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning her head against his hip. Porno Lad commences with a half hearted clap while stepping towards the time keeper.

Susie: I’m so sad, the wedding between Robin and Hurse is going to be soooo boring now. No dancing pandas, no menus shaped like tits, no disco dancing ninjas, nothing!

Comeau: Hurse and Robin can now perform their ceremony in peace, which is bad news for the rest of us, as I’m sure we’ll have to sit through it.

As Robin celebrates her victory, Hurse takes the Submission title from referee Wright and throws it over his shoulder. He approaches Brooks who spots the belt adorning her fiancée.

Hurse: I’m just holding onto it for you, huh.

As accusative stares are exchanged between the two, Porno Lad moves to the apron, microphone in hand and eyes full of pride.

AN HONEST MAN

The moment that Porno Lad is spotted entering the ring, Hurse cradles the Submission title to his chest, protecting it with his life. Brooks clinches her fists defensively, ready to defend herself if necessary.

Porno Lad: Easy Mae Young.

Porno extends his palm towards a perplexed Robin, who refuses to drop her fists. Obviously there is a severe lack of trust between them, and for good reason.

Porno Lad: I don’t want to risk you possibly killing yourself after throwing a single punch, so I’m not here for fisticuffs.

Although her fiancée implores her not to listen any further and tolerate these ridiculous insults, Robin lowers her arms to her sides, dropping her guard.

Porno: I just wanted to say that believe it not, I am a man of principles.

Hurse refrains from laughter.

Porno: I am a man of his word, you can tell because I’m wearing a suit.

The new Champion motions to his expensive ensemble.

Porno Lad: And I am a champion…

The title he won after enduring hell in a triple threat encounter is held aloft to a mostly mixed bag of reactions.

Porno Lad: So you know that I’m a very, very, very, very, very honest individual, and nothing that comes out of my lips need be taken with a grain of salt.

Hurse: More like an injection of penicillin.

Porno Lad: That stings Hurse, much like the rash on your testicles.

The former World Champion cups his testicles and looks around nervously at the chuckling crowd.

Porno Lad: But we’re not here to talk about venereal diseases. I’m sure Robin has heard enough about them to last her a lifetime. I’m trying to have one of those Lifetime movie of the week heartfelt, awww, moments with you two. A moment where I would tell you that as of right now I’m officially resigning as your wedding planner.

The crowd doesn’t like what they’re hearing but it’s like a symphony to the ears of Brooks and Hurse. Robin even goes as far as to mouth the words “thank you” to the heavens.

Porno Lad: I STAND by my word. I said if Katelyn loses, then I’d stop trying to provide you two the most AWESOMEST wedding ever, and that’s just what I’m going to do. Besides, I’ve got bigger things on my plate now.

Moore: I don’t eat off of plates, if it can’t fit on the tip of my pinkie finger I’m not allowed to eat it.

Porno Lad: Good luck with your wedding and junk, just please don’t play too much Barry Manilow. It kinda makes my ears bleed.

He is about to pitch the microphone to the outside of the ring only for Robin to have the audacity to grab his wrist. She finagles the mic out of palm, slapping his knuckles to fight it free from his grasp.

Robin: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Even if we were to going to play Barry Manilow, and I love Mandy by the way, you wouldn’t be close enough to our wedding to hear it.

Hurse: YEAH!

Hurse lunges to his fiancee’s side, trying to appear intimidating as he guides her hand bearing the microphone towards his lips.

Hurse: Because your not INVITED!

Porno Lad looks like he needs a paper bag to breathe into, as if he just saw the epic ending to Free Willy, as if his favorite brand of lollipop was just plucked right out of his hands.

Hurse: And just to make sure you’re not given enough time to get bored and welsh on your bet, we’re getting married NEXT WEEK, live on Riot!

Before Brooks can pose a rebuttal, Porno Lad regains control of the microphone, passed around like a seashell amongst the children from Lord of the Flies.

Porno Lad: That’s GREAT! I’m happy for you kids, can’t wait to see it, and believe me, I will see it. Because the stipulation was that if Katelyn lost, I wouldn’t interfere in the wedding, but it didn’t say anything about me not attending it.

Hurse is enraged by these technicalities with his fiancée sharing the sentiment.

Porno Lad: Wild horses or the scent of a thousand David Freak armpits couldn’t keep me away from that wedding next week. Granted it won’t be as entertaining as the one I had planned, but I still want to sit front row center to watch what’s been set into motion.

The grin on his face, while bright enough to light an airport runway, only heightens the tension amongst the engaged couple. Their panicked eyes clearly indicate that they don’t trust Porno Lad to just be an interested observer come time for the wedding.

Mark: I guess Robin and Hurse didn’t read the contract closely enough. Porno Lad will STILL be in attendance at their wedding, which we can assume right now, will not go as planned.

Moore: It had better, I want some damned wedding cake!

Porno Lad rolls out of the ring, takes a recovering Katelyn by the wrist and guides her up the ramp forcefully. In the ring Hurse and Robin are arguing, Brooks angry over the sudden change in their wedding date and her fiancée trying desperately to explain his motivations.

WHERE’S YOUR HEAD?

The frazzled face of Christian Savior comes into view, and the sight of it is met with immediate dejection from the sold out Manhattan Center crowd. Absolutely no one takes kindly to the image of the World Champion, even as he stews with obvious discomfort. Clearly he doesn’t like how things have panned out tonight, nor at the pay-per-view. Nevertheless he walks like a zombie down the corridor, headed towards the ring.

GOD DAMMIT!

A hand forcefully slaps Christian across the cheek, snapping him back into reality and into a fit of rage. He steps nose to nose with his big brother, Jason Wheeler. Their respective title belts clank against each other as their chests bump.

Jason: Would you STOP obsessing over Douglas’ idiocy? We’ve got a match, and I’ll be damned if the Infection’s IWC debut goes awry.

Savior: I can't help it! I’m the one supposed to end Orlando’s career. And who the hell does he think he is putting me against Evans at Paranoia without even consulting me about it? I’m THE World Heavyweight Champion...

The prestigious gold is raised from his shoulder but Wheeler doesn’t he even turn to so much as glance at it.

Christian: I should be….

Jason: Blah, blah, blah, blah, wah, wah, wah, wah.

Savior swallows his anger until it forms a ball in his stomach.

Wheeler: I don’t care about the Conspiracy soap opera. I only use Douglas to get what I want, he knows that, you know that, everyone knows that, so frankly, I don’t want to hear about any of this drama. I want YOU to get your head on the match up next. It’s time for the Infection to take hold of this company, starting with Aurora Rose and David Freak up next.

Once again Jason gets physical, but this time not with a slap, instead he places his palm on his brother’s tense shoulder.

Wheeler: If you’ve got issues with Douglas, you can take care of them later tonight. And as far as retiring Orlando, at the very least we can play a part in his final humiliation as lumberjacks.

Savior decides to make lemonade from lemons, trying to make the best of the situation.

Jason: Now snap out of it. Get out to that ring, and lets infect the IWC.

He wedges his forehead against Christian’s, speaking through grating teeth to make his brother is fired up. Savior breathes heavy, even as Jason turns and storms down the hallway towards the curtains. Christian is left by his lonesome to contemplate his options here tonight.

Mark: World Champion Christian Savior, and Cartel Champion Jason Wheeler teaming up here tonight to battle the Freaks. Which team is going to move on to lumberjack the main event? We’ll find out, NEXT.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

If you’re going to loose to Hogan, at least make it look good

THE FREAKS VS. INFECTION

“OPEN WOUNDS” now streams through the PA system, resulting in a very loud reception for the Freaks. The sultry vixen, Aurora Rose, strolls onto the stage and momentarily throws her hand into the air in your classic anti-authority rock gesture. Her husband follows closely behind, doing a Scott Hall-esque double finger point, gesturing towards his lovely wife. All of the ballyhoo surrounding their arrival escalates as they make their trademark entrance. Aurora slides under the ropes, slipping across her knees then jumping to a turnbuckle where once again she makes that rock pose. An exhilarated Freak jumps to the apron, looking pumped to get his hands on Wheeler tonight.

Comeau: David and Aurora Freak have a lot of motivation for this one, and not just because it gives them the chance at payback against Jason Wheeler. The added stipulation on the match between Orlando Cruze and Pat Evans has changed EVERYTHING!

Moore: Even my sex.

Mark: Let’s hope not, otherwise my hand on your thigh might be a bit awkward. Now the Freaks have the opportunity to take Savior and Wheeler out of that match up as lumberjacks, and move on to perhaps ensure that Orlando keeps his career in tact.

OPEN YOUR HEART, IT’S GONNE BE ALRIGHT

Jason Wheeler and Christian Savior emerge onto the stage, spotlights shinning down onto the champions. While the IWC World title belt resides over Christian’s shoulder, the Cartel title is wrapped smugly around Jason’s waist. The Infection bask in the disapproval of the crowd, entertained by their negativity. Wheeler seems to get more amusement out of the boos than Savior, who is very distracted. The duo moves down the ramp and to the ring where they simultaneously hop to the apron, the fans still tearing into them verbally. They begin to remove their straps upon slipping through the ropes and into the squared circle where David and Aurora are physically restrained by the official.

Mark: We’re seeing the debut of the Infection here tonight as a tag team. Boy have they ever run amok in the SCW and have already unleashed their brand of anarchy here in the IWC, but now we’re about to see them truly let out of the cage.

Moore: Lucky them. I still have to sleep in my cage.

Comeau: Why?

Susie: Something about sleep walking and random choking Alex Tribeck.

Mark: Of course things may not go as planned for Infection considering Savior’s mind is on the announcement made earlier.

The unlawfully crowned Cartel Champion opts to start off the match against David, who insisted on stepping in for his team. He and Jason begin to circle one another, crouching down before lunging forward into a collar elbow tie. They jockey for positioning until David slips around behind Wheeler and applies a reverse waistlock.

He then hoists Wheeler into the air and takes him down to his stomach with a true wrestling style maneuver. He keeps his arms clamped around Jason’s waist then slips over his back into a front chancery.

Mark: Some nice wrestling from David thus far. Like I said just a few moments ago, David wants payback, and he wants to keep Infection from effecting the outcome of the main event as lumberjacks.

Moore: I knew I brought my trusty hatchet for a reason. Believe it or not, it’s more effective than a rape whistle.

Freak only maintains the hold for a moment until Wheeler forces himself up onto his feet and powers him backwards into a turnbuckle. David’s spine is smashed against the turnbuckle, forcing him to break the front chancery and allowing Wheeler to back to the center of the ring catching his breath.

What the Cartel Champion doesn’t know is that Aurora has made a blind tag to her husband’s shoulder. Nevertheless Jason charges at the prone Freak only to have David lift his legs into the air, raising his boots to Jason’s inbound stomach. Before they meet their mark Jason puts on the breaks and catches his ankles, throwing Freak’s legs to the side.

His legs fly through the ropes, leaving David seated on the middle rope. Jason charges in when Freak leans back, shooting his shins into the air, over the rope and into Wheeler’s face. The kick connects, knocking Wheeler into perfect position for Aurora who springs from the top rope and connects with a flying lariat.

Comeau: What fluid teamwork from the Freaks thus far. What a tandem these two have become over the year ever since their forced marriage.

Moore: I’ve had several of those, granted they were to stuffed animals, but they have to take responsibility for impregnating me.

Mark: That’s….interesting?

Aurora jumps to her feet and motions for the crowd to do the same, the majority of them doing so as they shower her with praise. She quickly turns back to the struggling Wheeler, stepping in and snatching an arm. She applies a quick armlock, pushing down on the back of his bicep as Jason struggles to his feet.

The warped soul reaches out and claws at Aurora’s eyes, causing her to break the hold and turn her back in his direction. Jason takes full advantage of this opportunity, stepping in and applying a reverse waist lock. To his astonishment however, Aurora still has the wherewithal to perform a standing switch.

She only has her own reverse waistlock applied for a moment before Jason reaches through is legs and grabs one of her ankles. He sweeps her leg out from under her and twists around, looking to apply a submission. She wedges her feet to his chest and pushes him off before he can apply any hold.

Wheeler is sent rolling backwards straight to his feet with Aurora nipping up to a standing base and coming right at him. Jason side steps the inbound Rose, and pushes her along into the ropes. As she hits them chest first she grabs the top cable, looking for a springboard move.

Unfortunately she is cut off from doing so by the interfering Savior, who steps across the apron catches her by the back of the neck and drags her throat first into the top rope. Her neck ricochets from the cables and sends her staggering backwards into Wheeler who connects with a roaring elbow right to the back of her skull.

Mark: Of course the Infection will exploit every cheap tactic they can possibly think of.

Moore: Pretty soon they’ll be using a decoy, like Disco Ninja.

Comeau: I wonder if we’ll see that decoy later tonight when Disco Ninja clashes with the Masked Vigilante on this LOADED edition of Riot!

The forearm met with brain rattling results, leaving Aurora strewn across the canvas yet valiantly trying to stand up. She fails to reach her feet when Jason steps to her side, extends his leg and drops it across the back of her head. Aurora bounces forehead first off the canvas and rolls to her back while Wheeler approaches his partner, tagging him into the match.

Christian enters as Wheeler goes rushing into the ropes beside his brother. As soon as he bounces off Christian catches him, throwing the Black Cat high into the air and letting him drop from a descent height into an elbow right across Rose’s sternum.

As soon as he rolls away Christian jumps into the air and crashes head first right against her chest as well.

Mark: More teamwork on display from the Infection, who are former SCW Tag Team Champions. I hesitate to think of what would happen if they went after Kingdom and Cruze for those belts, given the unstable bond between the IWC legends. That’s assuming of course that Cruze even walks out of this match tonight still employed.

Aurora’s body is already feeling the effects of this match as Wheeler exits the ring, leaving her to the mercy of the World Champion. Christian sits her up on the canvas and underhooks both arms from behind, applying a double chickenwing submission.

With both arms trapped Rose is left defenseless, inspiring Wheeler to illegally enter the ring and get in a few stomps to her exposed ribs. Referee Wright quickly shoos the Cartel Champion from the ring after a brief argument between them.

He then forces Savior to break the hold after the interference, Christian letting go and stepping back. He wages a finger on Wright’s defiant face however.

Savior: I can have you fired.

Wright doesn’t tolerate the threat and comes back with a few of his own before Savior brushes him off. He steps back towards a kneeling Aurora and grabs her by the neck. He pulls her across her knees into a front chancery, possibly setting up for a DDT.

That’s when Aurora begins to slug him to the ribs with both fists. The onslaught is finally enough to double him over as Aurora takes him by the back of the head, stands and then drops right back down to her knees with a jawbreaker. Christian stands up and holds his chin, staggering around before Aurora lunges into the air and meets his chest with a picture perfect dropkick.

Comeau: These fans rallied behind Aurora’s comeback. I would advise that she make a tag and give herself a rest though.

Moore: I have a pillow and nightlight she can use.

A stunned World Champion rolls around on the canvas, trying to get his bearings. He ends up rolling right into Aurora, who steps in and grabs him around the neck, already calling for the Sinful Desires. She rushes forward to deliver her version of the stratusfaction only to have Christian plant his feet and lift her into the air for a back drop counter.

Rose flips over to his dismay and lands right behind his back. She now takes him by the back of the head and charges him at her corner, driving him face first against the turnbuckle then making the tag to her eager husband.

Freak bends forward and dives through the ropes, slipping around Savior’s side and dragging him backwards out of the turnbuckle into a school boy pinning predicament.

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Savior kicks out just in time to prevent defeat for the Infection. He drops to his kneeling base right as David drops to his seat in front of him and connects with a vicious uppercut shot to his jaw. The stiff strike causes Savior to stand up and stagger backwards into the ropes. He bounces off and comes back in at David who drops to his back, catches him around the ankle and trips the World Champion over his body.

Savior crashes chest first to the ring while David stands up behind him and then steps over his back, lifting the legs into air as he applies a version of the double leg Boston Crab. Roars of pain bellow from Savior as he finds himself trapped in this predicament.

Mark: Freak is absolutely on fire right now. He may be on the verge of forcing Christian into submission.

It’s clear that Christian has been completely caught off guard by this offensive, already lifting his palm in the air and looking ready to tap out. That’s when Jason once again illegally enters the ring and charges up behind David, lunging forward for a running diamond cutter.

Freak breaks the submission, wedges his hands to Jason’s back and shoves him off his treacherous move. Wheeler flies forward and splats on his back across the canvas with nothing to show for the bump. He begins to sit up reaching for his kidneys when David rushes into the ropes in front of him, bounces off and drops into a low running lariat.

The impact knocks Savior to his back while David rolls across the canvas to his feet, getting the crowd really pumped up with his enthusiastic offensive display.

He’s got the Infection reeling before he turns around right into the code breaker from Christian. Freak’s face is planted into BOTH knees, sending him crashing to his back in a near unconscious state.

Comeau: And David is finally shut down.

Moore: Is he a robot? I knew it. Nobody can keep their hair looking that fabulous.

Aurora watches on from the apron, her hands on top of her head in shock over what she was just forced to witness. Savior now rolls into the lateral press, and hooks both legs albeit a little groggy and a tad slow to make the cover.

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Freak shockingly launches his shoulder from the canvas, preventing the three count.

Mark: Freak showing the same resilience that carried he and Aurora to a victory over the hard hitting Psycho at Destiny. Does he have enough left in his reserve after that match to continue weathering this storm though?

Moore: Storm? Where? I’ve been struck by lightening seven times, I can’t risk an eighth.

The crowd is rallied in support behind Freak even as Savior rolls him to his feet and scoops slams him down hard to the canvas. He now lunges into the air and drops knee first directly into Freak’s forehead, causing him to sit up palming at his nose in pain.

That’s when Christian scoots up behind him and tightly clamps his arms around David’s neck. He has the sleeper maliciously applied on his seated victim, Freak gasping and dragging on the forearm of the World Champion. He tries to get the arm away from his throat as his skin turns a bright shade of red, all oxygen being deprived from his cranium.

Comeau: Now your going to see the slow methodical dissection of David. Both Savior and Wheeler are technical wizards, you can’t take that away from them.

The motivation is being drained from Freak’s body as his head is twisted and wrenched back and forth. Yet despite it all he begins to stand, wedging his knee to the canvas and grabbing hold of the crease of Savior’s arm. Suddenly he falls forward, flipping Christian over his head into an arm drag.

The World Champion is sent rolling forward across the canvas directly to his feet. David rises at this moment and barrels towards his rival only to be caught with a boot to the ribs then placed in a front chancery.

Boos drown out all other noises as Christian sets up for the implant DDT. Just before he connects Freak hears the pleas of his wife, inspiring him to swing his body out of this predicament. He takes hold of Christian’s wrist in the process and now drags him into a short arm variation of the clothesline from hell.

Christian ducks the inbound arm, steps behind Freak, grabs him around the jaw and pulls him down into a sit-out reverse facebuster. The back of Freak’s cranium cracks against the canvas forcefully while Savior rolls backwards into his corner, where he tags an impatient Wheeler.

Jason jumps over the ropes and charges at the laid out Freak, beginning to lay into his prone body with stomp after stomp. He drops to David’s side and wedges his forearm against his eyes, grinding it against Freak’s pupils.

Mark: Wheeler maliciously attacking Freak, tapping into that whole sadistic part of himself.

Moore: He must have had a lot of sugar cubes this morning.

Official Wright forces Wheeler off of his wounded opponent, giving Freak just the moment he needs to roll away and create some space. He starts to get up when Wheeler shoves the ref out of his way, steps in and lunges into the air. He catches the back of David’s head and pulls him down face first into his raised knee.

The collision almost cracks David’s nose, causing him to stand upright yet sway his arms to stay upright. That’s when Jason lunges into the air, spinning around and connecting with a hard back directly under Freak’s jaw. The kick connects with more than enough force to send Freak plummeting to the canvas.

He rolls around holding at his jaw while Wheeler rolls to his knees, brimming with intensity as he develops the next step in his torturous plot. The Black Cat approaches his recovering opponent, taking him around the neck then forcing him to his feet.

He spins David around and bridges him over backwards as he falls to a knee. Freak is held in a reverse neckbreaker position, his body bridged over completely backwards into a modified rear chinlock.

Comeau: Another hold now established. This is the technical expertise I was referring to.

The neck and head of Freak is twisted and ripped in this predicament. Sweat is already cascading down his body, dripping to the canvas. He flails his arms, trying to find some means of escape, but hope is quickly fading. That’s when Aurora enters the ring illegally, paying no attention to the referee’s protests.

She moves in, takes Freak under his knee and lifts his legs up into the air. David is sent flipping backwards over the knee of Wheeler and landing feet first on his opposite side.

The kneeling Black Cat has no time to react as Freak and Rose rush in and sandwich his skull between both sets of boots. Wheeler is left on his knee wavering back and forth, his eyes fluttering as he tries to remain conscious. It’s at this point that Aurora goes rushing into the ropes in front of her addled prey.

She bounces off the cables and comes charging into her husband, David standing in time to catch her across his back. He swings her around into a modified 619, her shins nailing Wheeler to his forehead and sending him flying backwards.

Mark: Although highly illegal, David and Aurora just nailed some wonderful tag team offense to get them back in this match.

Moore: But, but, but, it’s the illegal stuff that’s the most fun.

Freak has fallen to his knees, still reeling from the affects of the offensive onslaught he’s suffered. Aurora has rolled to the outside of the ring at the behest of the official. She stomps on the canvas and extends her palm, desperate for a tag.

That’s when David begins to approach her, extending his palm to make a tag. Their twiddling fingers are separated by mere inches when a disorientated Wheeler catches his ankle. To his astonishment David is dragged back towards the center of the ring, slowly standing up and hopping on one foot.

Before Jason can drag him all the way back into the enemy corner, Freak lunges into the air, reaching back with his legs. He wraps them around Wheeler’s waist and pulls him over into a forward roll up. Freak ends up seated on Jason’s chest, pulling down on the back of his legs to a tremendous reaction.

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Jason kicks out, sending David rolling backwards onto his feet with Jason standing up in front of him. The aggravated Black Cat rushes in for a lariat only to have David duck it and dive at Aurora, slapping her outstretched palm.

Mark: He TAGGED HER.

Moore: Yay! Aurora’s it.

Wheeler has no idea the tag has been made, spinning around right as Aurora flips over the ropes and lands on his shoulders. She swings around into a big hurricarana, flipping Jason over and sending him crashing across his back. She ends up seated on the canvas after completing the move, Savior rushing up behind her.

The quick Rose drops into a backwards roll, her legs ending up wrapped around Christian’s neck. She pushes herself off of the canvas, swinging around and around as she hangs upside down from the World Champion’s neck.

Finally she snaps off after the sixth rotation, sending Savior crashing into the ring.

Susie: All these moves are giving me motion sickness.

Aurora rolls to her feet spinning in circles and riling up the crowd. Everyone is upright, screaming joyfully for the punk rock princess. She spins towards a discombobulated Wheeler, who desperately grasps at the ropes as he ascends to his feet.

Rose steps up behind him and jumps into the air, landing directly on his shoulders for a reverse hurricarana that would surely spike him right on top of his head. Jason wedges his hands to her bum though, shoving her up and over his head and causing her to land directly in front of him.

He takes Aurora around the waist, setting for a German suplex before Rose desperately rushes forward dragging him along behind. As they near the ropes Aurora ducks her head, David pulling himself over the top cable into a flying shoulder block. It connects to Wheeler’s chest and sends him tumbling to the canvas right alongside his opponent.

Freak lunges back to his feet, storming forward across the canvas and doing some serious smack talk to a rousing reaction from the crowd. Obviously both he and his wife are all emotional as David spins towards the struggling Savior and comes barreling towards him.

Unfortunately he walks right into a superkick to the jaw from the World Champion. The blow connects with enough force to almost shatter Freak’s jaw. Shockingly he remains upright though, sluggishly spinning in a circle. He eventually spins to face Christian who rushes in to deliver the spear.

Suddenly Aurora rushes into the fray though, shoving Freak out of the way and taking the full force of the spear. The maneuver connects with bone breaking impact and drives Aurora forcefully into the canvas.

Comeau: Aurora preventing her husband from enduring the spear and instead taking all the punishment onto herself.

Moore: She’s just like Jesus, without a beard.

Aurora holds her ribs in incredible pain while Wheeler steps in, grabs her legs and flips forward into a jackknife cover.

Freak lays on the outside of the ring after the forceful shove, reeling from the superkick and completely unaware of the ensuing pinfall.

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3

The fans come out of their seats with anger at the sight of Wheeler and Savior picking up this tag team victory.

Comeau: Ah no, Infection victorious, not only winning their tag team debut here in the IWC but also moving onto lumberjack the main event. Things are gonna get hairy with this team running amok.

Moore: As if there wasn’t already enough hair. Damn male testosterone levels.

Jason drops off Aurora, sitting up and not even bothering to raise his arm in victory. He stares across the ring at the recovering Savior, appalled by the fact that his partner is once again deep in thought. Instead of slapping him he steps in and takes Christian under his arm, aiding his brother to his feet after this hard fought victory.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Relive Six Years of Glory

THE PLOT THICKENS

The roof almost flies off of the Manhattan Center thanks to no gust of wind but a sudden eruption of cheers from the audience. They express their joy at the sight of Johnny Kingdom, an uneasy grin surprisingly present on one half of his face. For him to be smiling after what unfolded last week is a true testament to just how much sanity he has remaining.

Despite everything that unfolded at Destiny and here tonight, Johnny Kingdom is still on his way to the ring dressed for competition.

Billy Mayne: Yo, Kingdom.

Johnny’s pace is unhindered by the abrasive roadblock that is Mayne. He merely shoves Billy and his microphone out of the way and continues onward. An annoyed Mayne is forced to chase after him, his tongue flapping.

Mayne: Come on Johnny, you know it’s my job to get inside your head. You owe me an exclusive.

A laugh actually emanates from the Team Leader over such a bold insinuation.

Billy: At the very least tell me your thoughts on what’s going down tonight with Evans vs. Cruze…

Kingdom: Would that make you happy?

The Team Leader finally pauses but doesn’t bother to look back at the human gnat buzzing in his ear.

Billy: Kinda.

Johnny: Well you know me, Billy, I live to please others.

Although he maintains his spine tingling grin the agitation is evident in his voice.

Kingdom: So go ahead, ask your silly little question. Ask rather or not I want to see Orlando retired here tonight…no, no, I got a better one….

His eyes are wide an exuberant as he spins towards Mayne, who arches back fearfully.

Johnny: Why don’t you ask me how it feels to be screwed over by Orlando TWICE?

Two fingers are waved in Billy’s contorted face, Johnny’s knuckles dangerously close to knocking off his nose.

Kingdom: No, hold on, this ones a REAL doozy. You should ask rather or not I intend to go all homicidal, wrap some tin foil around my head and start fulfilling my misogynistic desires on Sallie. That would be emotional right? My response may very well be CONTROVERSIAL!

Johnny flails his arms into the air, standing on his toes and looking amazed by the prospect. He slaps his palms gleefully together and places his fist against his own cheek.

Johnny: That’s what you want, right? A sign that I’m positively pre-menstrual? You want me to start throwing around insults and making threats about just how unpredictable I’d be as a lumberjack. Your hoping I’ll say something that makes people care about all this redundant Orlando DRAMA!

The increasingly wide eyes of the Team Leader stare off into the heavens, imaging it. He grabs Billy around the head and pulls Mayne’s cheek to his sternum. He extends his palm, gesturing down the hallway.

Kingdom: Picture it Billy, the two of us cutting an interview where I swear vindication against Orlando, and repeat the word “destiny” about twenty billion times. Just imagine me cutting an AWESOME promo where I drop hints about pulling a swerve that would see me work in collusion with the Conspiracy. A swerve that would guarantee Orlando retires here tonight. Can you see me going off on some long tirade about how it would please me to ruin all Orlando’s ambitions in one fatal swoop? My GOD, it’s beautiful.

The mere thought of such an interview takes Kingdom’s breathe away.

Kingdom: Now imagine how good it’ll make you feel to know that YOU were the one who got these EARTH SHATTERING announcements out of me. How it would fill you with pride to know that you’re not only good at your job, but GREAT. Like Gene Okerlund great. Can you see it, Billy, can you see the Emmy shinning in your hand, the fans cheering your name for your award winning, powerful, gripping interview with the Team Leader? Maybe you’ll even force me to break down into tears. Can you see it?

A grin comes across Mayne’s face, visualizing appreciation for all his hard-work.

Johnny: Do you have the visual yet?

Billy mouth continues to hang open with his pupils as wide as saucers as he nods, still looking off into this magical dream world.

Kingdom: Well I want you to hold onto that image Billy. Everyone needs a dream to strive for. But unlike you, my dream will actually come true, and I’ll see that it does, starting tonight.

Kingdom slaps Mayne on the back and takes off towards the ring. Billy is still in his own dream world, completely unaware that he didn’t even get the interview with Johnny that he’s visualizing.

AXL EVERMORE VS. JOHNNY KINGDOM

A booming voice sounds over the PA, with one of those swooshing sound effects that build to a crescendo.

"You know who I AM, where I've BEEN, where I'm GOING, how I'll GET there...and all that's left is to tell you's that I'm finally HERE!"

The feed fades to the Tron video, and as the lead singer for Drowning Pool screams the opening "1, 2, 3, STEP UP!!" to their song "Step Up", a name is spelled out on the black video background in bold red Sofachrome font letters: Axl Evermore. In between some of the letters, a split-second of Evermore-in-action impact clips are shown. It fades to a front view of the stage, with Evermore--wearing his Fully Loaded team jacket--looking down on one knee, arms outstretched like he just landed from a jump. He stands up and he RVD's a thumbs pose, shouting "A...X...L!" as the crowd chants along. He now limps forward, his knee obviously still bothering him after that superkick to the leg at Destiny.

Kaily Wolf: Heading to the ring, hailing from NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK...weighing in at 246 pounds, he is the IWC Cartel Champion...AXL...EVERMORE!!

He heads to the ring with stern focus as the crowd cheers, then climbs to the apron and slips through the ropes. He wobbles to the turnbuckle and climbs to the second rope, pointing to himself with both thumbs once again and getting an “A-X-L” chant from the sold out crowd.

Mark: Evermore sporting the wounds of a very physical double title match at Destiny, where his Submission title was taken thanks to the injuries sustained to his leg. His knee may be in dire straights but he NEEDS to compete here tonight and take part as a lumberjack in our main event.

Moore: So do I, it’ll make me feel good about investing in these flannel shirts.

Comeau: That’s a checkered shirt actually.

Susie: NOOOOOOO!!

WAKE UP

A deafening roar emanates from the crowd as the Team Leader emerges onto the stage. He pauses only momentarily to examine the fans, many of which chanting his name. He doesn’t dwell on their response for long, his strangely focused features centered on the ring, which he now progresses towards. The co-holder of the Tag Team Titles strolls up the steps without his usual confident swagger.

Mark: Johnny Kingdom distracting Billy backstage before we could get any answers, but it’s obvious that the Team Leader wouldn’t make an impartial lumberjack. He’s got a lot on his mind concerning Orlando after what happened at Destiny where many people believe that Sallie screwed him out of the number one contendership.

Moore: He shouldn’t feel bad, I’ve easily screwed men out of a lot of things. Mostly their marriages though.

Mark: Your home wrecking status is legendary, almost as legendary as the rivalry between Johnny and Orlando, which will drive him to go to desperate lengths in order to beat Axl tonight, including going after that knee.

Evermore limps a little but tries to make it look like his leg isn’t affecting him. Kingdom is a tad too wise to fall for the act, because as soon as the bell rings he dives at the leg like a dog hankering for a piece of meat. Evermore side steps Johnny, keeping his leg out of play for now.

The Team Leader lands on his palms and knees, turning to face his opponent and sliding across the canvas after the canvas methodically. He only lunges back to his feet for a moment before reaching out and hooking Axl’s leg, tearing it out from under him. Axl collapses to his back as his opponent rips at the bandages around his knee, desperate to force a quick and early submission.

Obviously Kingdom isn’t playing games here, he wants this victory and in the worst way. Thankfully for the well being of Axl’s possibly torn ligaments, he lifts his good leg into the air, hooks it under Johnny’s forearm and pulls him forward into a small package pinning predicament.

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Kingdom kicks out and rolls to his knees while Axl valiantly rushes to his feet. The King of Submission steps in only to have the back of his knee caught in Kingdom’s arm and trapped in his pit. The Team Leader stands up, arm firmly clamped around bandaged knee before Evermore lunges into the air, hitting an enzugari to the back of his opposition’s head.

The stiff strike has Kingdom glassy eyed as he falls to his knees, looking completely disorientated by the impact.

Comeau: Just as we predicted, Kingdom went after that knee and did so quickly.

Moore: I didn’t predict he’d go after the knee, I predicted he and I would have a tea party.

Mark: And you didn’t even think to invite me?

Although still disorientated, Johnny starts to stand up, unaware that Evermore is limping up behind him and delivering a hard lariat to the back of his neck. Kingdom is once again knocked to his knees while Axl grabs him by the arm and stretches it around behind his back, establishing a hammerlock.

Comeau: Now Axl focusing in on a body part as well.

Moore: Oh what a great tea party it would have been. I could have wore my princess tiara, sure I ate most of it, but what’s left is still pretty.

Johnny groans in pain as he kneels on the canvas, Evermore awkwardly bending the arm until the knuckle almost touches the back of his head. The pain may be downright unbearable but it doesn’t stop Kingdom from standing up only to drop right back down to his knees, twisting his body in the process.

He pulls Evermore legs into the side of his body and reaches out with his free arm, wrapping it around the back of his knee. He pulls the damaged wheel out from under Evermore and sends him crashing back first to the canvas with Johnny falling on top of him into a lateral press.

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Axl kicks out, getting his shoulder up and rolling quickly to his knees. Johnny stands up in front of him, stepping it to further unleash his fury only to have his legs snatched out from under him, Axl diving forward into a jackknife cover.

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Kingdom wraps his arms around Axl’s waist and employs all his strength to bridge not only his body, but Axl’s frame as well from the canvas. The two stand up and Johnny swings Evermore around into almost a powerbomb predicament. He begins to hook both arms, perhaps looking for a pedigree or a tiger bomb.

Mark: This could potentially spell disaster for Evermore.

Moore: My little teddy bear, Captain Prippy Magee would be telling nautical jokes, and my giraffe, Elroy, would be telling Johnny and I how much he loves our mud cookies.

Comeau: I think we’ve heard enough about the blasted tea party already.

Johnny is fighting to get both arms hooked, ready to uncoil a truly vicious move. That’s when Axl transitions out of the poweromb predicament and twists his body into a full circle, turning to face Johnny once again. Unfortunately Kingdom STILL has hold of his wrist and employs this fortunate grip to drag Axl back towards him into a drop toe hold.

The crafty Kingdom quickly transitions behind the injured leg of Axl, trying to lock it around his own and reach out to apply a STF. Desperation takes hold of Axl, who realizes that if this submission is applied that he may very well have no other option but to submit.

His hands extend across the canvas, digging his claws into the canvas and reaching out for the ropes which miraculously are only a few inches to his right. Kingdom is so consumed with applying the hold on the leg that he doesn’t realize Evermore’s proximity to the ropes.

His hand raps around the bottom rope and to Johnny’s amazement he’s informed that he must break his attempt at the hold. Johnny is surprisingly compliant, up until the point where he stands, grabs Axl’s ankle, lifts it into the air and slams him down knee first into the canvas.

Comeau: I want to lash out at Kingdom for his actions but I knew he wouldn’t pull any punches when it came to this match.

Referee Princeton is jumping all over Johnny for his actions while Evermore grates his teeth, refusing to cry out as he squeezes his hands around his knee. Johnny pays no mind to the ref’s cautioning words, instead he grabs Axl by the ankle and stretches his leg across the canvas.

He now proceeds to deliver repeated stomps to the knee-cap, inflicting untold amounts of damage. It’s obvious by the pain inched on Evermore’s face that he can’t tolerate much more of this punishment on his knee. However, Johnny is just getting started.

He drops down beside the leg and begins to tear the bandages off, trying to get to the brace. Once he reaches the hard medical brace he begins to unclamp it, trying to remove any and all protection. Axl doesn’t let him complete this task, interlocking his hands around Johnny’s head and shooting his hard brace right up into the Team Leader’s face.

The knee strike hurts both men equally as Kingdom drops to his back and rolls across the ring, under the ropes, and to the apron. He grips at his forehead, which may have taken a lot of damage from that brace.

Mark: Evermore showing just how much he wants to lumberjack the main event TOO. He just put his own damaged knee in jeopardy to inflict pain on the Team Leader.

Moore: And as we sit around sipping our tea, Kingdom will regale us with references to movies we’ve never seen before, and random insults at Orlando. Oh how we’ll chuckle.

Johnny grips at the bridge of his nose and ends up struggling to stand on the apron. He employs the ropes to get back to his feet until Axl steps in and delivers a hard haymaker over the top cable. The punch knocks Johnny to the outside of the ring where he lands surprisingly on his feet.

He now dashes at the ring, throws the tarp into the air and reaches beneath the squared circle, grabbing hold of a steel chair. The fans are shocked by Johnny’s blatant disregard for the rules, his hidden anger finally forcing him into a fit of madness.

Moore: Yay, he’s bringing a chair for the tea party.

Comeau: Put down the chair Kingdom, I’d hate to see you disqualified, somewhat. I mean, for Orlando’s sake it probably be good that Johnny gets DQed.

Kingdom hops to the apron at this point, chair still held in hand before Axl rushes in and throws his body side first into the cables and into the Team Leader.

The collision knocks Kingdom from the apron, almost causing him to loose his balance only to remain upright by instinctively opening up the chair as he fell towards it. The steel is in full seated position, Kingdom leaning against it and trying to regain his bearings.

He literally has no inclination that Axl has grabbed the top rope and is actually diving over it into a crossbody. Miraculously, Kingdom turns around at the last minute and side steps Evermore, pushing down on the back of his damaged knee in the process.

As a result Axl’s body ends up going vertical instead of horizontal and crashing knee first off of the set up chair. The fans react despondently, yet some still cheer for Kingdom’s good fortune.

Comeau: OH MY! Axl’s injured knee flying right into that steel chair! That was gruesome. They may need to call an end to this match.

Susie: It would give me more time to plan my tea party. I’m still trying to figure if I should bust out the fine China or not.

Axl is unable to keep his groans behind clinched teeth, his hands gripping painfully at his possibly shattered, swollen knee. He rolls to the very chair that caused so much of his grief, irrationally pulling himself up with it. It becomes clear that his leg can no longer tolerate having any weight on it, but it’s too late.

Kingdom has already stepped in and folded his leg at the knee, lifting him into the air and dropping him shin first onto the chair. The steel doesn’t give but Axl’s knee sure does, almost cracking on impact as his writhing body plummets to the mats.

The fans that were cheering on Kingdom are now imploring him to cease these masochistic tactics. He doesn’t listen as he rolls to the outside of the ring and then back out, continuing to apply pressure on the leg. There is a sense of urgency behind his step as he moves towards Evermore, who is once again feebly employing the chair to get up.

That’s when he surprises Johnny with a rope-a-dope style move, swinging his good leg into a kick that takes out Kingdom’s ankles. Johnny trips face first into the chair, his skull bouncing off of it and his body dropping across the mats.

Comeau: Axl Evermore suckering Johnny in and giving him a taste of that chair.

Moore: Steel is surprisingly minty.

All those in attendance express their shock at the sight of Kingdom’s head connecting with chair. He is left sprawled across the seat, his eyes fluttering as he attempts to remain conscious. All the while Evermore is crawling towards the ring, grabbing the apron and forcing his knee to maintain his weight.

He grabs the bottom rope, pulling himself up onto the apron and then rolling the top half of his body under the cables. He is almost entirely into the ring before Johnny grabs his ankle, keeping his leg extended over the apron. Johnny lifts the leg into the air and swings it down across the back of the knee right into the apron.

Axl’s eyes are so wide they are about to pop as he sits up, reaching for his possibly broken leg at this point. He pulls it in under the ropes and wraps his arms around it, cradling his damaged joint upon rolling to the center of the ring.

Although some fans are booing him, Kingdom pays little attention, hopping to the apron and continuing to employ the same barbaric gameplan. He slips into the ring as Axl tries to crawl across his stomach to the opposite ropes, possibly planning to employ them as a makeshift crutch.

Kingdom makes his desire to reach those ropes all the more desperate when he grabs the injured leg and drops into a STF.

Mark: Johnny has finally got the STF established on that INJURED leg. I don’t know how Axl can tolerate this for very long.

Susie: I hope he’s well enough to participate in the potato sack at my tea party.

Comeau: A potato sack at a tea party? Really?

Moore: Don’t all tea parties have potato sack races? I thought they were mandatory for any social outing.

Axl’s faithful hometown crowd is rallied behind him, slapping the barricades and stomping their feet, creating quite the momentum shifting ruckus. Axl tries to turn their encouragement into strength, summoning every fiber of his being to continue onward towards the ropes.

They dangle feet away from his hand while Johnny twists and rips at the knee, all the while wrenching back on the jaw. The pressure is seemingly insurmountable but Axl is still scraping his way towards the cables. That superkick at Destiny may have put a kink in his step but there is still fight in his body.

Axl’s hand stretches feebly for the ropes, they are far outside of his grip. He can feel his chance at retribution against the Conspiracy floating away as he reaches yet again for the ropes. They are just too far away and the amount of torque being placed on his leg is far too great.

Johnny’s face informs the world that he will stop at nothing to emerge victorious, while Axl’s expression is that of pure agony mixed with his own brand of devotion. Their wills collide as Kingdom tightens his grasp and Evermore reaches out even further, his finger finally wrapping around the bottom rope.

Some in the building rejoice, Kingdom is not one of them.

Mark: An inhuman feat of strength from Evermore. How he reached those ropes is beyond me, his leg has to be hanging by threads at this point.

Evermore continues to hold the ropes as he drags himself under them to the outside of the ring. It took a lot of badgering for Johnny to break the submission and allow for Axl’s escape, the Team Leader still arguing with Princeton. He gives up on the futile discussion, spotting Axl on the outside of the ring and rolling after him.

Johnny steps up behind Evermore who suddenly spins around, catches Kingdom by the back of the head and drives him face into the steel stairs. Kingdom’s skull smacks off of them, his eyes fluttering as he staggers back into the hands of Evermore, who turns him back towards the ring and rolls him in under the ropes.

Comeau: Evermore once again luring Johnny into an attack. Axl’s offense may be limited at this point but he’s compensating by making use of every inch of that ring.

Moore: I make use of every inch of the ring too, mostly the turnbuckles, but there are laws that keep me from discussing how.

Kingdom ends up back inside of the ring with Evermore sluggishly limping in after him. It’s obvious that Johnny is on dream street as Evermore limps towards him, looking for every opening possible. As he steps in Kingdom is just getting to his knees, leaving him in perfect position for Evermore’s Flip Side. He hooks both arms and sets for one of his dazzling trademark moves only for Kingdom to stand completely upright, flipping his opponent over his shoulder.

Axl continues to hold onto the arms as he falls to his back, Johnny landing on top of his chest as a result in perfect pinning predicament.

1

2

Axl is forced to break his grasp on the arms, Johnny falling shoulder to shoulder with Evermore. This gives him the perfect opportunity to reach out, wrap his arm around Axl’s neck and rolling him sideways to his feet, setting up for the Exodus Finale.

Mark: An exchange of counters leading into the Exodus Finale!

When all hope looks lost Axl suddenly twists his back to Kingdom, catching him around the neck looking for the Fully Loaded stunner. Johnny slips free and drops to his knees behind Evermore, sweeping his ankle out from under him.

Comeau: Now he’s going right back to the leg.

Moore: Dammit, my potato sack race is all but ruined!

Johnny begins to lift the leg, looking to apply a hold that would surely finish Evermore off. Only this time Axl rolls to his back and delivers a buzzsaw kick with his free leg right to Kingdom’s temple. The strike causes Johnny to waver back and forth on his knees, eyes entirely glossed over. Evermore rises to his feet and stumbles towards the disorientated Kingdom.

He now grabs the back of his head and delivers a swift knee strike utilizing the metal brace once again. It is driven with deadly accuracy into Kingdom’s face, knocking him lifelessly to his back as Evermore falls on top of him for the lateral press.

1

2

Johnny gets his shoulder up, sending the crowd into a mixed reaction.

Comeau: Despite his injury, Evermore almost had Kingdom there for a split instant.

Axl sits up rubbing at his severally banged up knee after employing the brace protecting it as a weapon once again. He now sluggishly drags himself towards Kingdom, placing him in a side headlock while delivering repeated jabs into his face. He’s showing that he’s just as vicious as the Team Leader, forcing the ref to once again intervene.

Official Princeton struggles with Axl, finally prying his arms away from Johnny’s neck. Evermore rolls to one knee, struggling to stand up but still unable to apply much pressure on his leg. He now limps towards the addled Team Leader, who has rolled to his elbows and knees, trying feebly to stand up.

Evermore moves in to deliver a knee strike once again employing the steel brace to inflict as much damage as possible. The knee connects, steel cracking against Kingdom’s skull and knocking him backwards into one of the turnbuckles.

He falls against it for support, his arms dangling over the cables and his eyes glazed completely over.

Comeau: Evermore once again using that knee brace to excellent results.

Susie: Good thing he’s got that knee brace, it’ll keep his leg nice and sturdy for the jump rope competition at my tea party.

Mark: If I am forced to hear one more thing about this tea party I may officially have to vomit into your lap.

Moore: Don’t worry, I’m use to it.

Johnny’s eyes are completely glossed over, sweat beading down his near unconscious features. Meanwhile Axl is slapping his knee and stomping his foot, trying to work the kinks out of his leg as he prepares to finish off his opponent. He finally stabilizes his leg enough to bear his weight as he charges at the Team Leader.

That’s when his near comatose opponent moves out of the corner, sidesteps Axl and delivers a kick right to the back of his injured leg. As a result Evermore’s is sent flying into the turnbuckle, his knee thrust outward. It cracks right against the corner, causing Axl to roar at the top of his lungs.

Mark: OHHH, that knee has to be broken at this point!

Moore: Man, I guess he won’t be able to participate in the hop scotch tournament.

Axl crashes to the canvas across his back, gripping at his badly bruised knee and rolling in reverse. He ends up in a crawling position as Kingdom steps away from the ropes delivering a swift, powerful punt like kick directly to Evermore’s forehead.

The cranium cracking kick leaves Evermore devoid of all thought processes while Johnny snatches him around the neck and hoists him into the air. Before the injured Axl can respond he’s dragged down by the top of his head directly into the canvas via the Exodus Finale.

Axl’s skull smashes against the ring, sending him flipping onto his seat with fluttering eyes.

Comeau: Now he lands the Exodus Finale! For the sake of your knee Axl, I would suggest you DON’T kick out.

A disorientated smile looms on Evermore’s face before he finally falls to his back, Johnny going for the pin. He hooks both legs as the official makes the count.

1

2

3

Cheers mix with boos over the outcome to this battle, Kingdom moving onto the main event as a lumberjack.

Comeau: Somehow Orlando’s predicament has gotten even worse tonight! Now Johnny Kingdom will be a lumberjack in the main event after emerging victorious from this brawl with Evermore.

Moore: I hope he’s not too distracted with his lumberjack duties to attend my tea party. I wrote the invitations in the shape of a heart. I was going to make them in the shape of knockers, but Porno Lad stole my idea.

Mark: I’d love to sit here and talk about suggestively shaped invitations all day long Susie, but I think my presence is needed elsewhere. Someone has got to have a talk with Johnny Kingdom, to get some answers from him concerning the main event.

Susie: Fiiine, I’ll do it.

Comeau: I was actually talking about myself.

Axl has regained consciousness just long enough to realize he’s been defeated. He stares through half opened eyes towards the heavens and almost forgets the crippling pain coursing through his leg. While Kingdom’s body may be in an equal amount of pain he’s still standing.

He grips at his forehead and moves towards the ropes, slipping through them to the apron. He kneels there for a moment, leaning on the cables for support and finding himself perplexed at the sight of his old friend.

Mark Comeau has vacated the announcer’s table and is standing outside of the ring, imploring Kingdom to talk with him.

Moore: Awww, Mark is so sweet, he’s going to hand deliver my invitation.

Despite all Mark’s pleas for answers he receives a vacant stare from the Team Leader. Johnny drops from the apron, unswayed by these appeals to his intellect.

Mark: Johnny, come on, you know me, have I ever steered you wrong before?

There is obvious emotion behind Comeau’s eyes, but Kingdom displays not one of his own, not anger, not sadness, nothing.

Comeau: Don’t go out there and do something your going to regret. Don’t be the Conspiracy’s patzy? If you help them retire Orlando, it’ll make you a hypocrite. I don’t want to see you sell out.

Surprisingly that same petrifying grin settles on half of Kingdom’s face, his palm extended towards his long time friend and patting him on the shoulder.

Kingdom: Mark, Mark, Mark….come off it, you know that I’ve made a career out of selling out.

Johnny turns to leave but now Mark is the one bold enough to grab Kingdom by HIS shoulder.

Mark: I’m not Billy, Johnny, I know your upset, but think….

Johnny: I have thought about this, Mark.

The hand is brushed from Kingdom’s shoulder after making his chilling insinuations. He moves up the ramp, leaving a somewhat bothered Comeau behind, Mark unable to get anymore out of Kingdom than Billy did. An uneasy feeling looms over the Manhattan Center as Johnny strolls slowly up the ramp.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

A little self abuse can always be fun

RESPONSIBILITY

Once again the walls of the Manhattan Center vibrate with the cheers of the crowd. Their roar is almost deafening at the sight of Orlando Cruze, as he moves past the pillars supporting the enclosed parking facility. A fine white designer shirt and blue jeans adorn his tired body as he lugs his wheel mounted luggage along behind him. He is in the midst of carrying on a phone conversation while approaching the entrance to the building.

Orlando: I don’t know, there was some kind of mix up with the car I rented, but I’m at the Manhattan Center now. Just hope I didn’t miss my match already.

As Orlando continues moving towards the building his eyes widen, taking in the image of a disgruntled Nathan Creed. The Future paces back and forth in front of the entrance to the building, presumably waiting for Orlando’s arrival.

Cruze: Hey hun, I’ll call you back. Give Owen a hug for me, alright?

The phone is hung up and slid into Orlando’s pocket before he makes Creed aware of his presence.

Cruze: What’s wrong now?

Nathan finally looks up from the groove his pacing has forged into the ground.

Nathan: Where the hell have you been? Have you any idea what you’ve missed?

All his tag team partner can do is shrug his shoulders.

Orlando: There was some kind of mix up….

Creed: I’m sorry bro, I really, REALLY am.

Creed’s erratic words and odd tone does nothing to put Orlando at ease.

Cruze: For what?

Nathan: For not taking your advice.

Orlando: You’ll have to be a bit more specific.

Creed: I let my anger get the better of me….you know what, I snapped, I just fucking lost it and attacked Evans.

A smile forms on Orlando’s face, relieved over this explanation.

Cruze: After what they did at Destiny, I completely understand. No need for any apologies…

Nathan: Well, that’s not what I’m apologizing for. Because to get even with me for attacking Evans, Douglas made a few changes.

The fact that Creed can’t maintain eye contact unsettles the Icon.

Orlando: Changes? Let me guess, special referee? No DQ? Handicap match? I can handle it, no sweat.

Nathan: He stripped you of your number one contendership, and he’s put your career on the line tonight against Pat Evans.

No words can express Orlando’s shock. He just stares devoid of all or any emotion.

Creed: Plus Johnny Kingdom just qualified to be one of the lumberjacks for that match.

A deep breath is taken by the Icon, his skin tone changing colors.

Nathan: But don’t worry about a thing. I’m responsible for this, so I intend on fixing it.

There is passionate determination behind Nathan’s words. Orlando continues to look rather stoic, mulling over all this unsettling information.

Creed: I’ve got some business to take care of but I will be at ringside one way or another to have your back tonight. You can count on me. And again, don’t worry about a thing, I’ll fix it all.

Creed backs through the double doors, trying to reassure Orlando that he’s got everything taken care of. However, Cruze is anything but convinced, especially when his career is on the line and his number one contendership has once again been taken from him.

VOWS

Hurse: If my love were words it be a sonnet.

The Master of Control sits behind a table, licking his lips with pleasure.

Hurse: Awesome, even Shakespeare would be jealous of this shit. She’s so going to melt into my arms.

The pencil moves even quicker across the page, Hurse eagerly transcribing his deepest most heart felt desires.

Hurse: Ewwww golly. Hellkat will never be able to resist me after getting an eyeful of this.

Both of his palms slap together, rubbing them gleefully. His smile widens until a familiar voice is heard coming down the corridor beside him.

Brooks: Yeah, I don’t know where he gets off changing the wedding date all willy nilly.

The former World Champion cowers as his fiancée moves into the camera’s frame, chatting on a obnoxiously on a cell-phone. Hurse tries to hide his note as quickly as possible.

Robin: Because he’s an IDIOT! He’s lucky I don’t have to chew his food for him, or force him to wear water wings when getting into the bath-tub.

Hurse: Uh, I’m sitting right here.

He tentatively raises a finger into the air but the Black Widow continues to ignore him.

Brooks: And the worse part is, he couldn’t even get Porno Lad to stand by his word. It’s enough to drive me up a tree.

Suddenly her features contort and she cups her hand around the side of her mouth, preventing Hurse from seeing her lips although he can still hear her whispers.

Robin: We’ll talk about that later.

She glances over her shoulder before stomping her foot.

Brooks: Because NOW is not the time. We made a mistake.

Her words are spoken through grating teeth.

Hurse: Who are you talking to lamb chops?

Robin: Oh…uhh…

She finally acknowledges her fiancee’s presence.

Brooks: Just talking to Bounce…

There is uncertainty to her tone.

Robin: What are you writing?

She spots the note in his hand which Hurse quickly tries to stuff into the back of his tights. His mind scrambles to produce an excuse.

Hurse: Just my wedding vows. Oh my, look at the time.

Although there is no watch around his wrist he still pretends to be checking it.

Hurse: I’m gonna miss my match. See you soon.

He hastily rushes around Brooks and down the corridor, leaving her behind with a very perplexed expression inhabiting her face. Once he’s out of hearing range she continues her conversation on the phone.

Brooks: There’s something fishy going on with him.

She unleashes an exasperated sigh.

Brooks: No, I didn’t say he smelt like a fish, I said he was doing….nevermind!

THE DEBT

Axl: JESUS CHRIST….!

The swollen kneecap of Evermore is zoomed in upon as the elderly doctor examines it. Despite Axl’s cries, the kindly old EMT continues to poke and prod the bruises.

Evermore: Where the hell did you get your PHD? The Brail Institute? Now stop TOUCHING ME.

Axl slaps the wrinkled hand away from his swelled flesh. The doctor steps away, nursing his fingers against his chest while X-Class Champion Max Craven moves into the frame. He sits on the edge of the cot that Axl is planted upon.

Max: So go ahead, tell him he should never compete again or something equally as pessimistic.

The doctor opens his mouth to give his medical opinion but the still exhausted Evermore has the strength to cut him off with a raised palm.

Axl: Nope, not gonna listen. Since when did a wrestler actually take medical advice?

Obviously the white haired old doc is unable to think of an instance where his opinion was actually valued.

Craven: I don’t know, it does look pretty bad.

Max squeezes the possibly broken leg of Axl, causing him to howl in pain and threaten to back hand his partner. Craven gets his arms up defensively.

Evermore: Would people stop getting their jollies by coping a cheap feel? This is exactly why I don’t wear shorts, my legs are just TOO irresistible. Now stop siding with the doctors and please don’t give me one of those repetitive, “think about your career and family” speeches. Yuck.

All Craven can do is sigh, powerless to stop his partner from making boneheaded decisions.

Max: Now you know if I were going to give that type of speech I would have ten minutes ago. That way your match with Kingdom would have had more of an emotional appeal to it, and you would have looked all valiant by dismissing the naysayers and overcoming all the injuries to compete. But if I gave the speech now it would be kind of useless, it wouldn’t even give your match a ratings boost, so what’s the point?

Axl shrugs, forgetting his pain momentarily. His partner hops from the cot and adjusts the X-Class title over his shoulder.

Max: Although, now probably would be an opportune time for me to do one of those speeches riddled with threats and promises of revenge against Robin Brooks. She was the one who injured you.

Axl: Why did you just remind me? It’s not like I’ve forgotten.

Craven: Sorry, we don’t want to confuse first time viewers so I have to explain all our motivations. Now where was I? Oh yeah. I’m gonna get revenge on Robin, YAY, and like hurt her and all that junk.

Evermore: Sounds wonderful. But forget about Robin, concentrate instead on qualifying to be a lumberjack. One of us has to represent Sex & Violence in that whole sordid, overbooked affair.

Max: Naturally.

Axl: It’ll give us the chance to further our agenda against the Conspiracy, and plus you’ll look all heroic should you actually help Orlando keep his job.

Craven: And this time I wouldn’t even have to wear a cape.

Evermore: Exact….

Porno Lad: Gentlemen, gentlemen, gentlemen…..I couldn’t help but to overhear.

Attention shifts to Porno Lad as he lowers the boom mic that loomed over Max and Axl. He now removes the headset hooked to the mic and placed over his ears.

Porno Lad: I just wanted to pass on my condolences concerning your loss Evermore.

Axl: You make it sound like my cat got ran over. Believe it or not I will REBOUND from my loss against Johnny.

Porno Lad: I’m sure you will you little go-getter you.

Every tooth in Porno Lad’s mouth is squeezed into his smile as he lightly jabs Axl in the bicep. His focus shifts to Craven.

Porno Lad: And I wanted to wish you luck out there tonight Max.

His outstretched palm hangs in the air between himself and the X-Class Champion. Max stares down into the palm for a moment before obliging it with a shake. Before Craven can walk away, Porno Lad tightens his grasp on his hand and pulls him in close. Both men maintain their smiles even while their faces are in such close proximity to one another.

Max: Have you eaten a lot of garlic lately?

Porno Lad: Yes, but that’s not important. Although I suddenly realize I need a stronger brand of mouthwash, I still want to remind you of the debt you owe to Disco Ninja and I. And believe me, we’ll come collecting soon enough.

Porno Lad breaks his hand away from Max’s and continues down the corridor. As he passes by Evermore he slaps him reassuringly on the knee, causing Axl to groan due to the agony.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

The proper way to name a number one contender

SHIN IWATE VS. PSYCHO VS. HURSE

"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: Perhaps the most deranged competitor in the history of the IWC has a lot on his plate here tonight, as well as over the past few weeks. I shudder to think of what this unstable sociopath would do if qualifies to be a lumberjack later tonight. His motives are next to near impossible to predict.

Moore: It’s as unpredictable as a monkey with a sparkler. And yes, that is how I spent my weekend. The photos are on my MySpace page.

Mark: Thanks for the warning. But if I would be so bold as to hazard a guess, I’m just going to assume that Psycho’s focus will be on Shin Iwate, who reportedly has shown NO appreciation for the Sadistic One’s interference at Destiny in that Cartel title match.

Psycho swings his arms to his sides, strolling back and forth with diabolical eyes focused on the entry way.

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

A tentative Hurse strolls through the curtains, showing his true cowardice as he glares at the monster in the ring. He tries to buck up his chest and look tough upon heading towards the ring, laser lights flashing obnoxiously over his back. He takes several deep breathes while moving up the ramp and hesitating on the apron, taking a deep, exaggerated swallow.

Mark: Hurse dealing with a tense situation earlier tonight involving Porno Lad. Even though his fiancée was victorious over Katelyn Beuhler, Porno Lad has vowed that he will attend the wedding, which we understand will take place, NEXT WEEK.

Moore: Why must you always emphasize the words “next,” and “week?” You frighten me when you do it.

Comeau: I’ll try to keep that in mind.

Hurse has entered the squared circle with a tentative expression on his face, palms raised defensively towards the scarred sociopath. Psycho’s eyes are directed down at the canvas, deeply contemplating something, not even aware that Hurse is trying to strike up an accord between them. He motions between the two, insinuating that they should work together and totally clobber Iwate.

Comeau: Is Hurse serious? Does he actually think that after years of feuding with one another that Psycho is just going to agree to team with him?

After Hurse makes his sales-pitch, Psycho raises his head and nods. A truly frightening smile is evident on his face, one that would cause Freddy Krueger to crap himself, yet Hurse still thrusts his palm out. Psycho reaches out to shake it only to receive a thunderous uppercut right to his jaw.

Mark: I think we all saw that coming.

Moore: I know I did.

Comeau: Honestly?

Susie: No, I at least thought more chocolate pudding would be involved.

The brutal right hand almost shattered Hurse’s jaw and has sent him welting like a flower to the canvas. He rolls across it, almost dead on his feet and stumbles right into a knife edge chop across the chest. The impact of the chop is so extremely powerful that it picks Hurse up off of his feet and sends him flying backwards into the turnbuckle.

Hurse lands on his seat against the corner, looking all glassy eyed while his arms fall over the ropes. That’s when Psycho comes rushing in, delivering a running knee strike directly into his face. The crowd cringes over the impact while the deranged sociopath backs up and charges in once again. He nails a second knee strike, this one even more vicious than the last.

At this point Hurse’s eyes have rolled to the back of his head, looking as if he’s lost control of all mental faculties. Psycho steps backwards out of the corner, his twisted expression examining the cheering fans, many of which chanting his name.

Comeau: Psycho has shattered absolutely any shackles restraining him and he’s just destroyed Hurse before the match could even begin. But where is Shin Iwate at?

Moore: Looking for his invitation to my tea party? FYI, I left it in his shoe.

The Sadistic One falls to his knees, wedging his palm against Hurse’s throat and beginning to strangle the life out of him. He now goes as far as to begin deliver a succession of straight right fists to his opposition’s forehead. The bludgeoning blows are doing their trick on an addled Hurse who fights to remain conscious.

His nose is already swelling while Psycho takes him by the hair and pulls him out of the corner to the center of the ring. Hurse is barely able to remain upright before he’s taken by the throat and hoisted into the air. There is absolutely no defense for Hurse who is chokeslammed forcefully against the canvas.

The entire ring shakes due to the severe impact of Hurse’s body against canvas, leaving him completely sprawled out at this point.

Mark: Psycho has made quick work of his long time rival. But he can’t go for the pinfall considering this match has yet to begin without Shin Iwate out here. He’s just enjoying doing nothing more than inflicting punishment.

The dark, deranged soul takes great pleasure in Hurse’s suffrage, now snatching him by the hair, sitting him up on the canvas and delivering a swift kick directly to his chest. The sternum shattering shot knocks Hurse to his back, leaving him sprawled across the ring while a truly unsettling glint overcomes his tormenter’s eyes.

From within his tights a steel fork is extracted, Psycho lifting it up high into the air for everyone in the Manhattan Center to see.

Comeau: Oh no.

Moore: This is no time for dinner Psycho.

Mark: That fork isn’t intended for any meal, it’s going to be used on Hurse’s face.

Susie: But that’s not edible.

The fork is gripped tightly while Psycho licks his lips, almost salivating at the thought of what he’s about to do to Hurse. He bends forward and snatches the bangs of Parkwood’s hair, holding up his head and twirling the fork around his fingers.

Psycho: Eye for an eye, aye Hursey my boy? I wouldn’t want you to look pretty for those wedding photos, hahaha.

The fork is now gripped tightly in his palm and raised aloft, the crowd begging him to rip Hurse’s flesh. Psycho is on the brink of making good on his vow for vengeance, a vow five years in the making before he’s cut off by the Singapore cane cracking against his spine. The stiff strike echoes throughout the Manhattan Center and sends Psycho tumbling to his knees.

A hooded figure who jumped the barricade is located behind him, but the mystery surrounding him doesn’t last for long. He quickly grabs his hood and rips it away from his face, revealing his identity to be that of Justin Davis.

Comeau: SCW’s Justin Davis striking again, this time attacking Psycho!

Susie: He must have thought Psycho was full of candy.

Mark: Davis attacking the man who forced him into that ring at Destiny with a kindo stick.

The cane is raised and brought down over Psycho’s back once again to thunderous results. The sickening impact knocks Psycho to his chest and stomach and sends the fork spilling out of his hand. Davis now doubles over him, palm placed to his knee and gums flapping.

Davis: People like you NEVER put your hands on people like me!

The crowd is jumping all over Davis for this dastardly assault before their tune immediately changes at the sight of David Freak and Aurora Rose. The Freaks bolt towards the ring with a pep in their steps and ushered forth with a roar of approval from the crowd.

Comeau: What? Why are Aurora and David coming out here?

Moore: Relax, relax everyone, there will be plenty of seats available at my table. Although I might have to brew some more tea, and they may have to share some of the seats with my stuffed guests.

Justin finally spots Freak slipping into the ring at his side, quickly swinging the cane right at his head. However, David sees it coming and ducks the inbound shot, stepping around behind Davis. The intruder turns into a series of hard right hands, the impacts knocking him backwards into the ropes.

Referee Fitzpatrick watches all of this with wide eyes, absolutely powerless to put a stop to this chaos considering the match has yet to officially begin. Aurora now steps in as well, joining into the fray despite her soar ribs. She delivers punches to the opposite cheek of Davis, the Freaks’ fists flying wildly.

Both their fists land at the same time right under Justin’s jaw, knocking him backwards through the ropes. He crashes to his feet on the outside mats, backing up quickly towards the ramp with wide, angered eyes.

Mark: The Freaks have just cleared Davis out of the ring; they actually came to Psycho’s aid. I guess they’re still trying to get in his good graces.

Moore: All they need to do is give Psycho a cookie and tuck him in at night, that would get them in my good graces.

Justin continues to back up the ramp holding his jaw and looking flabbergasted by what just occurred. He beams a look of unbridled animosity towards the Freaks. Aurora returns the penetrating stare while David approaches Psycho, taking him under the arm and beginning to assist him to his feet.

David: I know we got off on the wrong foot Psycho, but I think we just showed you that we’re on the same page here. So please, take this olive branch….

Psycho swings the fork right between David’s eyes. The sharpened point cuts through his flesh and sends Freak tumbling to his back. He rolls across the canvas with both palms covering his face and his legs kicking repeatedly.

Mark: Psycho just STABBED David with that fork. I guess the apology was not accepted.

Justin watches all this chaos from off to the side of the stage, standing under the rampway at this point. He smiles before moving around the stage and to the backstage area. Inside of the ring Aurora has spun to notice the ensuing chaos, spotting her husband draped across the canvas gripping at his face and Psycho standing over him bloodied fork in hand.

It’s at this point that she rolls to the outside of the ring, reaching in under the ropes and grabbing David’s ankle. She employs all her strength to slide him out of the ring just as Psycho’s fork once again came down at his face. David falls against him as the two stagger into the barricade, falling over it.

The Sadistic One watches all this from the inside of the ring with a truly sick grin on his face. He shrugs his shoulders finally and moves towards the ropes, slipping through them, dropping to the mats and going right after the Freaks.

Comeau: Psycho in hot pursuit of David and Aurora, who only came out here to try and mend old wounds. It seems like they’ve LITERALLY opened a few new ones instead.

Moore: Will someone please feed Psycho for once? He wouldn’t go scourging for food if someone would just fill his bowl now and then.

Psycho moves over the barrier, hot on the heels of the Freaks with David’s blood dripping from the tips of his fork. Aurora guides her wounded husband through the sea of humanity, weaving their way towards the exit. “Freak Show” descends through the loud speakers at this point and Shin Iwate emerges to the stage. He wastes little time on his way to the ring, his features twisted with an unsettling expression. The Man with Death on His Mind rolls into the ring and watches Psycho pursue the Freaks through the entrance.

Comeau: Shin Iwate has impeccable timing.

Moore: Yep, a couple of seats have opened up at my tea party now.

Mark: He conveniently shows up after of all this madness has concluded.

Shin now jumps to the middle rope, leaning over the top cable and smiling slightly as he watches the brawl ensue through the crowd. He realizes that the Psycho issue has been taken care of for him, but has no idea that Hurse has recovered and re-entered the ring behind him.

He staggers towards Shin’s backside and steps under his legs, reaching up and wrapping his arm around Iwate’s waist. Before Shin can stop it, he’s charged across the ring and dropped into a running sit-out powerbomb. Hurse leans forward into the back of Iwate’s legs for the pinfall.

1

2

Shin gets his shoulder off of the canvas, preventing the sneaky win.

Comeau: Hurse almost capitalized on the chaos. He just delivered a big running powerbomb on Iwate, and snuck in with a victory.

Moore: When did Hurse get here? He’s so not invited.

Iwate reaches for his back and rolls to his elbows and knees, trying to struggle his way towards his feet. He reaches a standing base when Hurse steps in and wraps his arms around his neck. Hurse now drops back, delivering a devastating shellshock. Iwate’s light frame is flipped completely over sideways and sent crashing face first into the ring.

He bashes off of the canvas and rolls to his back, laid out completely. He is in prime position for Hurse who once again scrambles into the lateral press.

1

2

Shin once again launches his shoulder from the ring, preventing defeat by a mere fraction of a second.

Frustration is clear behind Hurse’s eyes, his chest heaving with despair. He slides his fingers through his hair, sure that he had a victory in the palm of his hair. All he has in his palms now are chunks of hair that have been ripped from his scalp.

Despite his aggravation he stands up and swings his fingers around one another, signaling that he’s got a high flying move in store that will totally blow away all other high flying moves. This insinuation is met mostly with boos as Hurse slips through the ropes to the apron and moves towards the turnbuckle, beginning to ascend it.

Comeau: We don’t see this very often, Hurse is going up top. That didn’t work out well for Robin earlier in the night, will it play out any differently for him?

Moore: I hope he does something so spectacular off the top rope it makes me grow not one, but TWO penises. That way they’ll have someone to keep them company.

Hurse slowly begins to get his bearings straight on the top rope, trying to balance his feet on the cables. He’s unaware that Iwate has recovered and is charging at the very ropes he’s standing on top of. Shin rushes up to the top of the turnbuckle, springing from the rope and twisting his body.

He reaches back with his legs, wrapping them around Hurse’s neck and hanging upside down for only a second. He uses his legs to flip the Master of Control out of the corner and send him flying across the ring. A shocked Hurse catches tremendous height until he finally splatters across the canvas spine first.

The collision causes Hurse to convulse and writhe in agony, reaching for his kidneys in tremendous pain.

Comeau: Iwate has just gotten himself back into this frantically paced match that has suddenly transformed to a one on one encounter.

Moore: I think Hurse flew high enough to see my house. It’s the one with the year round Christmas lights.

A startled Hurse instinctively rolls into the ropes furthest from the turnbuckle he was launched off of. He grabs at the cables and sluggishly drags himself to his feet, turning towards a battered Iwate. Shin has blocked out all indications of pain as he rises to his feet and charges straight at his opponent.

Hurse has the wherewithal remaining to bend down and catch the inbound Iwate ribs first against his shoulder, back dropping him over the cables. To his disbelief though, Shin grabs the top rope with both hands and falls back towards the ring, catching Hurse around the neck in the process.

Iwate pulls him down and spikes him right on top of his head with an unbelievable DDT. The move connects with enough force to crack Hurse’s skull and send his brain oozing through the wound. Somehow his brain remains in tact as he sits on the canvas, drool seeping from the crowd of his mouth.

A battered Shin crawls up behind him and hooks his arm and leg, pulling him over into the crucifix pin.

1

2

Now Hurse shocks the world by actually kicking out for a change.

He ends up stretched across his stomach, having exhausted all energy to get out of that pinfall.

Comeau: Somehow Hurse mustering the strength to kick out this time.

Moore: There’s a first time for everything.

Shin refuses to be slowed by the trauma his body has endured, rising right to his feet and grabbing Hurse around the neck. He places it in a cravat as he pulls Hurse up to his feet, stooping him over forward to place his face in perfect position for a sickening series of knee strikes.

Knee after knee after knee nails Hurse to the bridge of his nose before he finally goes crumbling to the canvas. Hurse falls to a kneeling base, somehow keeping from tumbling to the ring while Shin stomps his foot in front of him and swings his leg around for the knock out kick.

Somehow Hurse is able to duck the inbound leg of his opposition, causing Iwate’s back to be aimed in his direction. This puts him in prime position for Hurse who lunges to his feet before taking Shin around the waist. He hoists him up for the German only to have Shin reach back with his legs, wrapping them around Hurse’s waist.

Shin falls forward for a wheelbarrow, landing on his palms across the canvas. He pushes himself back up and towards Hurse’s head only for his crafty opponent to wedge his hand to Shin’s upper spine, shoving him down face first into the top turnbuckle pad.

Iwate’s face crashes off of the nearby turnbuckle, causing him to stagger backwards in a daze , stumbling right into Hurse’s waiting shoulders. Shin ends up seated across the back of his opposition’s neck, Hurse standing up and dropping back into an electric chair. Iwate’s spine is driven violently into the ring, causing his lower back to arch from the canvas.

It’s at this point that Hurse scoots around on his seat to Shin’s side, taking his arm and folding it over backwards before he applies the Anaconda Vice. There is a loud mixed reaction at the sight of this submission draining all the fight out of Iwate’s body.

While many of the fans could care less about Shin loosing this match, given his disposition towards the crowd, nobody wants to see Hurse pick up a win. Iwate squirms from side to side on the canvas, trying to prevent being forced into tapping out to one of Hurse’s many submission holds.

Comeau: Anaconda Vice established! Could we be on the brink of seeing Iwate’s very first loss? And how devastating would it be for his psyche to lose via submission?

Moore: Very? That’s what the teleprompters telling me.

Mark: We don’t even have teleprompters.

Hurse wrenches viciously at the neck and head of Iwate, who’s free hand is stretched out over the canvas. His palm is mere moments from slapping the canvas but somehow he hangs in there, refusing to let this be the night where his winning streak is ended.

He slowly sits up, blood deprived from his head and oxygen cut off to his lungs. In spite of it all he actually begins to stand up, Hurse rising to his feet beside him, still fighting to keep the submission locked in.

Mark: Iwate actually gritting through this hold, does this man not feel pain?

Moore: I don’t either, but mostly because I was dropped on my head a lot as a child.

Now that they are upright Iwate is able to fall to his side, dropping away from Hurse and flipping him over his body with a modified arm drag. Hurse crashes to the canvas and rolls slowly to his feet, gripping at the back of his neck in the process. He now rushes right at Shin who in a split instant connects with a spinning back heel kick to the ribs.

The shot knocks all the air from Hurse’s lungs, doubling him over as he reaches for his kidneys. Iwate now rushes into the cables at the side of his stooped over opponent, bouncing off them and coming back in. He catches Hurse around the neck looking for a swinging neckbreaker only to have him twist his body out of the predicament, countering and catching Shin’s wrist in the process.

Iwate is spun around and dragged forward into the shoulder of his opposition who snaps back into a bridging northern lights suplex.

1

2

Iwate once again kicks out, getting both shoulders up just before the three count.

Comeau: Iwate once again kicking out, this man’s shoulders must be immune to being pinned.

Moore: Just like my stomach is immune to food.

Shin and Hurse roll towards their feet, both men trying desperately to get up after the physicality they’ve unleashed on one another. The moment they reach their feet Iwate takes Hurse around the neck and begins to shoot knees upward into his face. Before the first knee can land Hurse catches his leg and throws him up into the air.

Shin ends up landing in a seated position across Hurse’s shoulders, the Master of Control rushing forward in order to hit another running powerbomb, this time into a turnbuckle. To his dismay, Iwate counters by pushing himself over Hurse’s head and sliding down his back, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him over into the sunset flip.

1

2

Hurse surprisingly kicks out, rolling over backwards and dropping to his knees. That’s when Iwate jumps to his feet, wraps his arms around Hurse’s waist, lifts him into the air and charges him upside down ribs first directly into a turnbuckle.

Hurse finds himself hung upside down from the corner as Iwate places him in a front chancery then drops back into he Forbidden Suplex. The moment that Hurse’s back hits the canvas the crowd erupts, Iwate floating over into the cover.

Comeau: What a series of nearfalls leading us right into the Forbidden Suplex. Will Hurse be the first man to kick out of this finisher?

The ref slides in and makes the count, Fitzpatrick’s hand quickly slapping the canvas.

1

2

3

The reception to Iwate’s victory is a mixed bag of boos and cheers, but the victor could care less for the spoils.

Moore: That Vietnamese guy won! YAY!

Comeau: He’s JAPANESE! And yes, he did just win after connecting with that Forbidden Suplex. No one has been able to kick out of that move thus far, leaving Shin STILL undefeated here in the IWC.

Shin sits up with his contempt for the crowd clear as day. He doesn’t linger in the ring, instead he rolls out and makes his way up the ramp, not even looking back at the broken body of Hurse strewn across the canvas.

Mark: Shin Iwate will move on to be a lumberjack in tonight’s main event. But I think it’s safe to say that he’ll have his eyes on another lumberjack in the form of Jason Wheeler, who we all know took HIS Cartel title at Destiny. This main event just keeps getting bigger and bigger.

Moore: But nowhere near as big as the tea party, right?

BETTER THAN YOU

The mascara drenched eyes of Michelle Blacker stare into the camera lens as she resides in the gorilla position just beyond the entrance tunnel. The microphone is clutched tightly in her hand while an apathetic expression resides on her pale face.

Michelle: Hello mortals, I’m standing back here trying to get a word with the newest lumberjack for tonight’s main event farce. But I won’t be waiting for Iwate much longer because this is a no smoking zone, and the coffee here SUCKS.

A bit of a commotion can be heard from behind her, Michelle glancing over her shoulder at the inbound Justin Davis. The fans react with repulsion at the sight of the SCW import, as he nervously checks over his shoulder and moves at a brisk pace. He’s already fumbling into his pants pockets for his keys, not even realizing that he’s about to bump right into Blacker.

Michelle: Hey blondie, what are you doing here again? Come to steal something else?

Davis turns towards Michelle and lunges back at the sight of her ghostly features. He calms himself by means of a deep, cleansing breathe.

Davis: Oh thank God, I thought I stumbled into a George Romero movie for a moment.

Michelle bats her eyes awkwardly, trying to figure out what was just implied.

Justin: But no, I’m not here to pilfer some meaningless title belts. I came to send a message.

Blacker: A message?

Davis: Are your ears too decayed to listen? YES, a message. I just showed that anything IWC can do, I can do BETTER.

Justin points at the camera lens, wide eyed and full of devotion.

Michelle: Aren’t those the lyrics to some cheerful show-tune?

Those same piercing eyes transfer back to Blacker.

Justin: What kind of self respecting goth are you?

Once again his gaze transfers to the camera.

Davis: Take Psycho…

Michelle: Been there, done that.

Justin: The man has made a career out of terrorizing people, but I just showed how much better SCW is at tormenting and horrifying others. I showed that the stars of SCW can be more deceitful, conniving and treacherous than ANYONE on the IWC roster.

His arms swipe through the air as a visual representation of his insults.

Davis: I’ve already proven that the champions of the SCW are more deserving and our titles are more prestigious. And tonight I’ve shown just how much smarter and craftier our superstars can be. But soon, very, very soon, it’s all going to come down to showing just how better SCW is in the ring.

It’s at this point that Justin squeezes his keys tighter, pats Michelle on the head with his other hand and takes off down the corridor. He continues to look over his shoulder ensuring that he’s not being pursued.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

ALL PART OF THE PLAN

Douglas: I don’t think this night could go any better.

The President leans back in his chair, hands interlocked behind his head with a cocksure expression on his face.

Dan: Unless of course Sallie were here to enjoy it with us.

Seated across from him, basking in the joy of a plot gone too perfection is new number one contender Pat Evans. He casually rests in a chair, unconcerned about tonight’s main event.

Douglas: But that’ll change next week, when WE get her in the center of the ring.

Douglas’ face twists at the mere mention of his liaison.

Evans: Oh how the foolish shall suffer.

Dan: If she had just done her job at Destiny, there wouldn’t even be a need for tonight’s main event.

Pat: Well, to be honest, I’m kind of glad that she had a crisis of conscious. Now I get the honor of retiring Orlando.

Douglas: Indeed. But we’ll still have to deal with Sallie and her insolence when I force her to show up next week or see to it that her conscious won’t be the only aspect of her life in crisis.

A gentle chuckle bellows from Evans’ lungs. That’s when their conversation is abruptly interfered with thanks to the intrusion of the World Heavyweight Champion himself, and the Cartel Title holder. Savior storms into the dressing room while Jason lags behind.

Savior: DOUGLAS!

Christian places his knuckles to the desk and leans over it to make eye contact with the President. Douglas merely grins despite the hostility radiating from his precious champion.

Dan: There a problem?

Christian: Your damn right there’s a problem!

Douglas: But I told them to make sure there were no brown M&Ms in your candy dish.

Savior: That’s not what I’m talking about.

He slams his fist down on the edge of the desk then grabs a pencil. He tries to crack it but has difficulty doing so, therefore he hands it over to Wheeler, who with a sigh snaps the pencil in half.

Christian: You know damn well what I’m angry about.

All Douglas can do is shrug his shoulders.

Savior: I’m the one who is supposed to end Orlando’s career. You told me I’d get to retire him at Paranoia Vi, and take great satisfaction in depriving him of the World Championship.

He motions to the IWC title belt over his shoulder. Before Douglas can offer an explanation, Pat Evans butts in.

Evans: Isn’t it enough that you have the World title in the first place? Spread the wealth. You should be happy that Orlando’s going to be retired tonight, and you didn’t even have to lift a finger.

Savior finds Evans’ tone to be truly obnoxious.

Christian: Excuse me Evans, but adults are speaking here. And frankly, you haven’t earned the right to retire Orlando, nor the honor of facing me for the World title. And that’s another thing, how DARE Pat be named number one contender without my consent.

Pat: Wait, wait, wait, since when did Douglas have to run his decisions past you?

Savior: Since I became the greatest World Champion ever.

Evans: I can change that.

Pat gets up nose to nose with Savior, the two long time partners seemingly seconds from exchanging something harder than words. Wheeler slips into Pat’s seat, crossing his legs and yawning.

Jason: Told you this was pointless, bro.

The hostility between Evans and Savior finally forces Douglas to intervene. He stands and places his palms to both the Champion’s and the Number One Contender’s shoulders.

Douglas: Gentlemen, gentlemen, gentlemen, let’s not be like Rome here and crumble at the height of our decadence.

The Conspiracy members slowly back away from one another.

Dan: Now I made promises to both of you that I intend to uphold, and I can’t let Orlando get in the way of all that. He needs to be taken care of tonight before he can meddle in our affairs any longer. That way I can fulfill my guarantee that it will be an all Conspiracy main event. Christian, you know that I made this promise the moment we came together as a group, and you know that after all Evans’ hardwork he deserves a title opportunity.

Christian mumbles under his breathe but doesn’t make his words audible.

Dan: And besides, you can still have a hand in retiring Orlando tonight as a lumberjack.

Evans smiles as all Savior can do is roll his eyes.

Douglas: So let’s stop all this bickering and fulfill our goals! We take Orlando out tonight, and leave no one left standing in the way of the Paranoia VI ALL Conspiracy main event. Shake hands.

Hesitation stews in both men, their hands tentatively extending. Wheeler watches all this with a half grin on his face, mildly amused by Douglas’ attempts to keep a grasp on the situation. Finally Savior’s and Evans’ finger tips tap against one another’s before their hands draw back quickly.

Dan: There! Doesn’t that feel better?

Evans and Savior grumble.

Wheeler: Kumbaya my lord, kumbaya, ooooohhh lord kumbaya.

All eyes have transferred to the annoyingly wide smile extended across Wheeler’s face. .

MAX CRAVEN VS. NATHAN CREED

The house lights melt down to black as a major-key alto-soprano Gregorian chant begins...but instead of an actual Gregorian chant, they talk-sing the following...

I-RA-TUUUUS...ANTI MAAAAACHINAAAAAA...DEEEEEUUUUUS...EEEEEX MAAAAACHINAAAAA...IN MAX WE TRUUUUUUST...AT THE CHUUUUUURRRRRCH...OF HOT ADDIIIIIIIICTIONNNNNN...

It cross-fades into "Church of Hot Addiction" by Cobra Starship, and the lights begin flashing green, gold, white, and black. The Cartel-Tron, meanwhile, shows green code raining down on a black background, forming words and phrases to match the chants. A black-with-green-trim-robed figure emerges from the back as the music gets to the first verse.

Just let me ask you--"HEY..."

He is accompanied by another robed figure, quite a bit smaller, and her hood is lowered, revealing Mercy Heaven. They reach the center of the stage.

"...Have you heard of my RELIGION??"

They pause and lower their heads as Mercy goes behind the robed figure.

"It's called the 'Church of Hot Addiction', and we believe that God has lust for ev-er-y-thin'...cuz NOW..."

The robed figure thrusts his arms out and the robe suddenly "flies" off his body into Mercy's hands, accompanied by outward-shooting pyros from either side of the ramp, revealing a grinning MAX in the middle of the spark-storm. The pyrotechnics flash off of the X-Class title belt wrapped around his mid-section.

"...The time has come for your DEVOTION...and you already got the NOTION...of what I need; so give it, just give it, just give it to me...(you're will-ing, I'm wait-ing...turn out the lights!)"

The lights melt down during that line, then they begin flashing even faster on the next line as MAX runs to the ring at medium speed, Mercy walking to the backstage area with the robes in hand. He slides in under the bottom rope and humps his way back up to his feet.

"To-NIIIIIIIGHT...I am the drug you can't deny! To-NIIIIIIIGHT...G-A-B-E gonna get you high...my light is ELECTRIC..."

He climbs the near corner and crosses his arms over his head, mouthing the words "TWO WORDS!", but they can't be heard over the crowd and the music.

"HEY HEY HEY! My light is ELECTRIC, yeah...HEY HEY HEY! My light is ELECTRIC...HEY HEY HEY! My light is ELECTRIC, yeah...HEY HEY HEY! My light is ELECTRIC!"

MAX hops down from the 2nd rope, spinning around and spinning grandiosely (with arms thrust out) to the center of the ring, where David Freak is standing. They immediately go eye to eye as Max back peddles, as if he just smacked into a brick wall.

Susie: It’s that sexy violent guy.

Mark: Erm, yeah. You were close at least; it’s actually Sex & Violence. Anywho, Max Craven made his intentions clear just a few moments ago as it relates to tonight’s lumberjack match. That is until he was oddly interrupted by Porno Lad. I can only shudder to think of what that whole situation was about.

Craven has bestowed his X-Class Championship unto the referee before beginning to warm up for this encounter.

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, a symbolic strap hanging from his palm. He snaps his neck from side to side whilst ringing 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. He slaps the strap against his palm repeatedly.

"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"

As the verse nears its end Creed reaches the ring and slides under the rope. He bounds to his feet as the song changes beat as the chorus hits and the lights change again into a flash of bright strobe lights.

"Pain, without love,
Pain, can't get enough,
Pain, I like it rough,
Cause I'd rather have pain than nothing at all"

The start of the chorus causes Creed to scream, throwing his arms to the side in a Dreamer-esque pose.

Moore: It’s SNAGGLETOOTH!

Comeau: Just stop, please stop trying.

Susie: Don’t have to ask me twice.

Mark: Nathan Creed wants to be in that lumberjack match more than perhaps anyone. Not only is his tag team partner’s career in jeopardy, but the man who screwed him out of the World title is involved in that match as well.

Max motions for Nathan to step in as they begin to circle one another. As the bell chimes they lunge forward into a collar elbow, but Craven quickly transfers around behind Nathan’s back and catches him around the neck, applying a side headlock.

Creed quickly wedges his shoulder to Craven’s back though, hoisting him into the air in a suplex position.

He connects with a back drop suplex but Max is still cinching in the side headlock. His grip becomes all the stronger in fact as Creed tries his hardest to escape from this predicament. He already begins to stand back up with Max rising to his feet beside him, still maintaining the side headlock.

Comeau: Craven attempting to drain Creed of all his energy with that side headlock. This match getting off to a slower start, these two trying to feel one another out.

Moore: That’s what my gym teacher use to do to me all the time.

Both Max and Creed are back on their feet as Nathan tries to break out of the side headlock by charging into the ropes. Both men bounce off and step towards the center of the ring with Creed trying to shove Max off of the hold. To his dismay Max still has the hold clamped on, dropping to a knee in the process

Mark: Creed just can’t get out of this side headlock.

Craven only tightens his grasp the more that Creed struggles to free himself. It’s at this point that Nathan hoists Max high into the air and steps towards the ropes, dropping Craven over the cables to the apron. Max still has the headlock established albeit over the ropes but Creed is finally able to counter by dropping to his knees.

As a result of this drop Craven’s bicep snaps against the top cable, forcing him to finally break the submission hold. Creed rises quickly to his feet and reaches over the ropes, wrapping his arm around his opponent’s neck, suplexing him back into the ring.

However, Craven somehow floats over, landing on his feet right behind Nathan. He now slaps his arms around Creed’s neck and rushes at the ropes, stepping up them. He launches himself off the ropes and twists around into what appears to be a tornado bulldog.

That’s when Max drops towards the canvas and pulls Nathan over into a side headlock takedown. The Future ends up sprawled across the canvas with Craven’s chest pressed to his sternum, holding him down and in the submission at the same time.

Creed grits his teeth until they almost chip while he tries to find a way to free himself from this basic submission. He rolls away from Craven, pulling him over onto the back of his shoulders in a pinning predicament.

1

Craven forces his shoulders from the canvas and back to his posterior, still clamping his arms tightly around Nathan’s neck. This inability to free himself forces Nathan to take more drastic measures, trying to force himself up to his feet as quickly as possible.

Once again Max stands up beside him, still stooped over into the submission. That’s when Creed shockingly twists his body, wedging his spine to Craven’s before pulling him down into a backslide pin.

1

Craven drops out of the pinning predicament and then reaches out, clamping his arms around Nathan’s neck once again. Another side headlock is established, Creed struggling valiantly to free himself. He wedges his feet to the canvas and stands upright, hoisting Max up onto his shoulder once again.

He steps backwards in the direction of the ropes and flips Craven over them with a back drop suplex.

Comeau: Creed finally freeing himself from the side headlock.

Moore: I thought he was getting use to having Max’s nipple in his face, it was probably making him hungry.

Max flips over the ropes in reverse and lands on his feet across the outside mats. He backs away from the ring, swinging his arms to remain upright. He has no idea that Creed is now rushing across the ring and diving through the ropes with a suicide headbunt.

The move connects, knocking both men to the mats to a triumphant roar from the crowd.

Comeau: What a sensational dive from Nathan taking out himself and Craven. It’s good to see that no serious brain damage was done during that World title match at Destiny.

Moore: Brain damage isn’t as bad as people make it out to be. At least your always chipper, and honestly, who really needs to know math?

Both Creed and Craven find themselves sprawled across the mats, the opponents trying to recover. Craven rolls towards the barrier, grabbing hold of it and dragging himself to his feet. That’s when Nathan moves in, spinning him around and delivering a swift knife edge chop across his sternum.

The brutal knife edge strike echoes throughout the arena and leaves a red streak across Max’s sternum. He turns his back on Nathan, covering his sternum with both arms. Unfortunately while cradling his chest he leaves his back exposed to Nathan, who applies a rear waistlock while given this rare opportunity.

Creed sets up for the German suplex right on top of the outside mats. Just as he hoists him into the air, Max reaches back with his leg, wrapping it around Nathan’s and preventing the move from connecting. He now delivers an elbow strike to the temple of the Future, but it isn’t enough to break the rear waistlock.

Mark: Nathan about to German Max on the mats. This move would certainly shorten Craven’s career if not end it.

Craven wedges his feet to the mats, refusing to be taken over into the suplex. He now takes hold of both Creed’s wrists and rushes forward at the barricade. He stops just short of it and sends Nathan flipping over his back and flying side first into the steel plated barrier.

Creed’s body bashes off of the steel and collapses to the mats, leaving him reaching for his collar bone. All the while Craven backs towards the ring and rolls in under the ropes, breaking the official’s ten count. He rolls right back out however, stepping towards the struggling Nathan and placing him in yet another side headlock.

This time Creed doesn’t stay in the hold for long, wedging his hands to Max’s spine and shoving him towards the exposed steel turnbuckle post. Craven is unable to stop himself from charging face first into the steel, bashing off it hard and then tumbling to his back.

Comeau: Craven just got a taste of the post.

Moore: I’ve licked it before, its mmm mmm good.

Nathan storms towards Craven slipping his hands into his hair and dragging him up to his feet. Max once again rolls into the ring, but this time not of his own power. He rolls towards the center of the ring with Nathan approaching him. In a painstaking effort Craven rises back to his feet only to be taken back down with a headbunt.

Mark: Now Creed having his way with Craven.

Max rolls across the canvas gripping his forehead when Nathan steps in, clamping his arms around his waist. The Future employs all of his strength to dead lift Craven from the canvas into a side suplex. The throw sends Craven half way across the ring and dumps him violently across his back.

He now sits up, taking deep, exasperated breaths while Nathan steps up behind him delivering a hard knife edge chop right to the back of his neck. Craven cringes as a result of the strike before Nathan takes him by the jaw, rolls him to his knees and slaps on a front chancery.

Nathan forces the X-Class Champion up to his feet then drops back into a snap suplex. Max’s back strikes the ring forcefully, causing him to groan in pain. Nathan now swings his hips, going for the three amigos version of the suplexes. He rolls Max to his feet and hoists him into the air for a second suplex. That’s when the champion knees Nathan to the top of the head, breaking up the suplex attempt.

Craven is dropped back down to his feet before lunging once again into the air, nailing a jumping knee strike to his opponent’s jaw. The stiff strike sends Creed staggering backwards just as Craven does a headstand and flips out of it into a big time lariat.

Mark: Max getting himself right back into this confrontation which is really heating up at this point.

Moore: Good thing I brought wieners. We can roast them.

Comeau: I’m sure that’s not the only thing you’ve done with them.

The excitement in the crowd is really building as Nathan rushes to his feet only to have Max bounce from the cables and connect with a running lariat. This stiff shot knocks Nathan to his back once again, scrambling to reach his feet. Just as he stands up Craven lunges into the air and connects with a flying clothesline.

Both men tumble to the canvas while Craven rolls across it to his feet. He stands up brimming with adrenaline, really getting the crowd riled up at this point.

A disorientated Nathan struggles to reach his feet when Max steps in and clamps his arms tightly around his neck. Once again Craven has the side headlock applied only for Nathan to squirm free, wrapping his arms around his opponent’s waist then dropping back.

Max unleashes a blood curdling roar as he’s dumped on the back of his head with a German suplex. The bridging German looks as if it shall spell disaster for Craven’s lumberjack ambitions.

1

2

Max launches his shoulder from the ring, kicking out just before the three count. Nathan spins around towards Max and wraps his arms around his neck while he still knelt on the canvas. A stunned Craven is nailed with the fisherman suplex, Nathan bridging back into another pin.

1

2

Max once again kicks out to an explosion of cheers from the audience.

Mark: Another kick out from Craven, who is showing just how much he wants to move onto that main event.

Moore: I guess he likes flannel even more than me. And not just because I’m the president of the Al Boreland fan club.

Comeau: You do realize that Al Boreland is a fictional character right?

Susie: BLASPHEMY!

Craven has just gotten his shoulder up and rolled to his knees when Nathan steps over him, hooking both his arms. He now snaps back into a bridging double underhook suplex.

1

Max kicks out once again, Creed transitioning around and applying a dragon sleeper. He bridges Craven up to his feet, shoots his arm out to his side and calls for the Upset. He swings around for the Eye of the Hurricane when Craven squirms free at the last second.

Nathan’s back ends up aimed in Max’s direction before the X-Class Champion lunges into the air and delivers a back stabber. Creed’s spine bounces off the raised knees, sending him collapsing sideways to the canvas.

Max sits up for a moment gripping at the back of his neck before he rolls into the lateral press.

1

2

Creed kicks out to the astonishment of the crowd, Craven rising to his knees with an air of despair surrounding him.

Comeau: And this match continues to wage on between these two athletes. Their almost tearing the house down at this point.

Moore: Then shouldn’t we get out here? Or at least surround ourselves in a protective steel bubble?

A frazzled Creed is led along to his feet by Max who boots him to the ribs and takes off into the ropes. He springs off the middle cable then transitions around into a hurricarana. Max lands right on top of Nathan’s shoulders and drops back for the move only to have Nathan turn his momentum into a powerbomb.

Craven crashes forcefully back first into the canvas with Nathan leaning down into the back of his legs. He now employs all his strength to hoist the champion back up into the air, setting up for another powerbomb. Somehow Max is able to push himself over the head of Nathan, landing on his feet behind his back and taking him around the neck.

The fans express their joy at the sight of the Hangman’s neckbreaker, planting Creed hard to the canvas across the back of his neck. Craven sluggishly slides into the pin once again, hooking both legs this time.

1

2

To a loud reception Nathan kicks out yet again.

Mark: These two are just incapable of finishing one another off.

The X-Class Champion is becoming frustrated with Nathan’s persistence, now reduced to stomping away at his opposition. His vicious stomps continue while Creed sluggishly begins to stand up. As he reaches his knees Max steps in blasting him across the forehead with right hands.

Finally he turns and bolts into the cables in front of his kneeling opponent, perhaps setting up for the Big Stiffy. He bounces from the cables and comes rushing back at Nathan who stands, wedges his hands to Craven’s ribs and throws him up into the air.

Craven catches tremendous height but then comes down right on top of Creed’s shoulders, snapping back into a hurricarana. He pulls Nathan around into the move only for Creed to flip out of it and turn the move into a sunset flip powerbomb. The fans are stunned by such a reversal, leaving Max sprawled across the canvas and caught completely off his guard. Nathan leans into the back of his knees for the pin.

1

2

3

Creed has done it, he’s finally finished off Max with a tremendous counter.

Comeau: By George, Creed is victorious! What a counter from the hurricarana into the sunset flip. Max’s own momentum carried him into this pinfall loss.

Moore: Nooo, I better bring some extra crumpets to the tea party, something tells me Max will need some comfort food.

The Manhattan Center fans are unclear how to react to the way this contest culminated. Creed rolls across the canvas and spills under the ropes to the outside. He reaches down and snatches up the strap that he brought with him, raising it symbolically into the air.

Mark: That’s right, Nathan will be entrusted to lumberjack tonight’s main event, and he will have that strap in hand.

Moore: I like straps myself.

Comeau: I’m not even going to ask you to clarify that statement.

Nathan continues to gaze into the strap before finally throwing it down and reaching under the ring. To screams from the crowd a steel pipe is extracted, the very same weapon that Nathan took to Pat’s skull at Destiny.

Mark: Uhhh, I guess the strap wasn’t good enough for Creed, he’s going to take another weapon to that lumberjack match.

Nathan slaps the pipe against his palm and moves around the ring, slowly marching up the ramp to the backstage area. He leaves a recovering Craven behind, Max leaning against the cables spine first, trying to figure out where his gameplan went awry.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Greatest gimmick EVER!!

MINE!

The stoic gaze of Shin Iwate centers on the strap hanging from his grasp. He stoops over while seated on the bench, examining the weapon he’s been entrusted with. The strap is stretched out between his hands and both sides are slapped together with one hard tug. The concept of employing it as a weapon in the lumberjack match seems somewhat amendable to Iwate.

Psycho: How does it feel?

A shadow is cast over Iwate, who looks up into the scarred features of the sociopath. He steps into the camera’s frame licking the bloodied tips of the fork. Shin stands up almost immediately, finding himself eye to eye with the demented sociopath.

Shin: How does what feel?

Psycho: How does it feel to keep feeding off my scraps?

The insinuation doesn’t sit well with Iwate but he doesn’t show it.

Psycho: First I feed you Justin Davis, then I force Hurse right down your throat.

Iwate: Do you expect me to thank you?

The Sadistic One waits for Iwate to utter the two magical words that would show his appreciation.

Shin: Because I’m not going to.

Psycho’s expression sours.

Iwate: I would have taken back the Cartel title without your help, and I would have beaten Hurse even if you hadn’t been distracted by the Freaks.

Instead of responding with anger, Psycho unleashes a meager chuckle.

Psycho: Do you think I actually expected some gratitude? Of course I didn’t. Because what I did at Destiny was for this company, not you. And tonight, you were the last person on my mind when I left Hurse’s carcass in the ring before pursuing the Freaks into the crowd. But rather or not I INTENDED to help you is irrelevant, you still capitalized on the fruits of MY labors.

Shin: You know I don’t take kindly to being distracted from my goals, so maybe you should get to your point.

Psycho: Fine by me. I think you owe me your spot in the lumberjack match.

If Iwate could laugh he certainly would at this point. Instead he shakes his head and crosses his arms.

Shin: You do, do you?

Psycho: I think it’s only fair considering I handed you Hurse on a silver platter. So what do you say you hand that strap so that I can resolve some unfinished business tonight?

Psycho begins to slide the strap out of his hand before Iwate pulls it away, pressing his hand to the Sadistic One’s sternum.

Iwate: I don’t think so.

Psycho: You don’t even care about Orlando and his career. But let’s just say, I have a vested interest in the outcome of this main event.

Shin: I may not be interested in the men in the ring, but that says nothing about those standing outside of it. Jason Wheeler has something that belongs to me, and I intend on taking it back.

Psycho: Hahahaha. You and Wheeler squabbling over the Cartel title? That’s your hidden agenda?

The disturbed Iwate nods his head.

Psycho: Well my problems with Wheeler run far deeper than any championship. He took out my partner, so I intend on taking him out TONIGHT. I’ve been waiting patiently to lure him into a false sense of security, so that he would think I wasn’t coming for revenge, but that changes….

Shin: Not tonight it doesn’t.

The twitching cheeks of Psycho indicate that he’s about to implode.

Iwate: I won the triple threat, I’m a lumberjack, and I’m the one who’s going to get his hands on Wheeler. So why don’t you stop being a distraction and leave me in peace?

Oddly Psycho seems to be debating Shin’s demands, and doesn’t respond in his usual brash, crazed fashion. Instead he cuts loose with that same hair raising laughter and wears a snide grin as he backs towards the door.

Psycho: If that’s how you want to play it.

He turns and exits the dressing room, leaving Shin behind staring down into the strap clutched by his palm.

THAT DISCO NINJA VS. THE 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: Disco Ninja finding himself in a very unique predicament on a night that has seen non stop action.

Moore: Is he going to be forced to wear a tiara? If so he can’t have mine. I stole it first, from my highschool prom queen.

Mark: I’m STUNNED. I had no idea you actually went to highschool. What I’m actually referring to is the fact that Disco Ninja agreed to this one on one special stipulation match in order to possibly unmask the Masked Vigilante and put an end to the mystery of his identity. At the same time though, if he looses this match he must begin working for the Vigilante.

Susie: This is so complicated. It’s just like an episode of Barney.

Disco Ninja struts his stuff around the ring, anxious for this bout to officially get underway. That’s when everything falls into darkness, the lights in the building completely dimming. A singular spotlight shines down upon the stage, revealing the Masked Vigilante, who strolls through the curtains without any entrance music or any video of any kind. The enigma now struts down the ramp, giving the crowd not one iota of his attention.

Mark: That mask may be coming off here in a few moments, so the Vigilante had better live up the mystery while it lasts.

Moore: Oh well, at least there’s always Halloween.

Comeau: The last time we saw the Masked Vigilante he helped screw over Craven and Evermore at Destiny, proving to be quite the thorn in the side of the IWC roster since his debut. Can he continue to be an annoyance or will Disco Ninja put an end to him tonight?

The Vigilante slips through the ropes and into the ring as the house lights rise to reveal the Disco Ninja leaning against a turnbuckle. His back is aimed towards the Masked Man, who must be smirking beneath his pitch black fabric. He shakes a raised finger back and forth, mumbling the words, “full me once, shame on you, full me twice, shame on me.”

Comeau: The Masked Vigilante not falling for the Decoy a second time.

Moore: That Decoy is awfully crafty, what with its perfect poker face and great posture. It would trick me every time.

The Vigilante blows off the inanimate decoy, turning his back on it before the object in the corner spins around, revealing that it actually is Disco Ninja in the flesh. He rushes out of the corner behind MV, hooking his inner thigh and pulling him down into the school boy.

Comeau: That was the REAL Disco Ninja!

Moore: See, it’s impossible to tell him apart from the Decoy.

Referee Fitzpatrick slides in and makes the count.

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2

To the dismay of the audience the Vigilante kicks out.

Mark: This match not ending that quickly.

Vigilante drops over onto his knees and reaches out, hooking the arms of the crafty Ninja. He drags Disco to his feet and lifts him up into the air in order to nail a version of the Angel’s Wings. The Masked Crusader hoists him up into the air for the modified face plant when Disco suddenly twists his body and counters into the arm drag.

The Masked Vigilante rolls forward across the canvas and reaches his feet. He stands just long enough for the Ninja to bolt towards him, jumping into the air and reaching back with his legs. A stunned Vigilante wraps his arms around Disco’s waist, lifting him up into a wheel barrow.

However, at the last second Disco twists his body and yet again falls from the wheelbarrow position into an arm drag. The fancy maneuver gets the crowd out of their seats, very hyped up over this fast paced action.

Comeau: Disco Ninja discombobulating the Vigilante, he’s having his way with him right now.

A pumped up Disco twists to face his opposition, who is barreling back towards him. The quick Ninja catches him under the bicep and goes for a third arm drag. This time though, the Masked Vigilante plants his feet and prevents being pulled down into the move.

Disco’s arm remains wrapped around the Vigilante’s, hanging sideways from his opponent’s body and over the canvas. MV reaches down and grabs the far side of the Ninja’s face, dragging him back up to his feet and using their interlocked arms to pull him forward into a front chancery.

The Vigilante quickly hoists him into the air, going for a vertical suplex. That’s when the Disco Ninja floats over the shoulder and lands on his feet behind his opposition. The Vigilante spins around and receives a hard right hand to the face, staggering him.

Disco Ninja steps back, does the lawnmower with his arms, swings his hips and moves back in for a second shot. The crowd is going nuts as he tries for the boogying blows only to have the Vigilante duck the inbound fist. He shifts around behind Disco’s back, hooks his arm and pulls him around into an unprettier.

His opponent’s face crashes forcefully against the canvas, causing him to convulse as he rolls to his back.

Comeau: Finally this masked enigma gets in some offense and some BIG offense at that.

Moore: Awww, every time I start to get in on the dancing it ends.

Mark: Well, I’m sure you can still do plenty of dancing at your other job, and actually work for your paycheck.

A battered Disco Ninja rolls to his back, sprawled across the canvas with the Vigilante hooking both legs for the pinfall.

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2

Disco kicks out and gets the fans rallied behind him. If one could see the Vigilante’s expression it must be one of befuddlement, perhaps wondering what he has to do in order to earn this victory.

Despite his opponent kicking out of his devastating unprettier, the Masked Vigilante goes right back to his gameplan. He drags Disco Ninja over to his knees and jabs him hard enough across the forehead to knock him to the canvas. Disco Ninja rolls across the canvas and ends up leaning side first against the cables.

He just starts to stand up, still using the ropes as a brace when the Vigilante charges in and nails a face wash. The hard boot to the temple knocks Disco through the cables and back first to the apron.

Mark: The Masked Vigilante taking firm control of this contest after that timely unprettier.

Moore: Unprettier? But Disco Ninja is just as pretty as ever.

Vigilante reaches under the ropes and grabs the wrist and ankle of his opposition, pulling the near unconscious body back into the ring. Disco is now sprawled across the canvas in a defenseless state, leaving him in perfect position for the Vigilante who jumps into the cables.

He extends his legs, landing across the top rope and flipping over backwards into an Arabian Press. He crashes across Disco’s ribs and then hooks a leg, hoping for a quick win.

1

Somehow the Ninja gets his shoulder up before the pinfall, infuriating his opponent. Vigilante drags him up to his feet and places him in a neck cravat before rushing at a nearby turnbuckle. Before the Disco Ninja can put a stop to it, he’s charged cranium first right into the second turnbuckle pad.

The impact disorientates the Ninja enough to send him stumbling backwards towards the center of the ring. A conniving Vigilante jumps onto the turnbuckle backwards, standing on the middle rope before extending his arms out to his sides. He does a wave motion with his arms before turning the dance move into a crotch chop.

Disgust permeates the crowd at the sight of the Vigilante’s mockery. He now takes flight, soaring right towards Disco who suddenly counters into a jumping, twisting shoulder block.

Comeau: OHHH, the Disco Ball of DOOM taking out his airborne opponent.

Susie: Yes, disco balls can be very dangerous, especially when you try to eat them.

The Masked competitor is knocked from the air and sent plummeting hard to the canvas where he writhes in pain. The dancing ninja rolls away from him to his back as well. He now begins to do hip thrusts from the canvas, trying to rally the fans behind him. They shower him with support, motivating the fan favorite.

He lifts his arms from the canvas and does a lawnmower motion with them again, continuing to try and get the adrenaline flowing. Finally, his hypnotic dancing in conjunction with the rabid crowd support gives Disco enough strength to rise to his feet.

He turns to his knees and continues to grind his hips upon standing. The moment he gets to his feet though, the Vigilante steps in going for a wild right hand. Disco ducks it, rushing into the ropes behind his opponent’s back. MV spins around when the wildly Ninja dives through the air and connects with a flying forearm strike.

Disco lands on his knees and slaps the canvas before popping right back to his feet, arms out stretched to his side. The crowd is showering him with support at this point.

Mark: Disco Ninja is ROLLING!

Susie: I roll too, in my tricked out tricycle.

The Vigilante tries to roll to his feet quickly before he steps into a bionic elbow to the top of his head that sends him right back down to the canvas. After completing the bionic elbow Disco spins around into a circle and points towards the crowd, who once again react with raw energy.

He now turns his attention back towards the Vigilante who has crawled into a turnbuckle, trying desperately to get up. The Ninja promptly pursues him only for his masked rival to step forward and stomp him right on the foot. If Disco could speak, he would be crying out in pain, however, his anguish goes inaudible as he hops on one foot and turns away from the Vigilante.

The masked man hops backwards onto the turnbuckle once again and reaches out, taking his nemesis around the neck then diving out of the corner into a tornado reverse DDT. The back of Disco’s head is driven with incredible force against the canvas, causing him to sit up for a moment with flickering eyes.

He’s pulled down to his back and covered by MV’s body, being placed in the lateral press. The crowd screams, realizing that he’s just moments away from being forced into the employ of his rival.

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2

Disco miraculously launches a shoulder from the canvas, forcing his masked adversary to roll away in a state of utter shock.

Moore: Hehehehehe, Disco Ninja kicked out, I hope he Hulks up now by doing the cabbage patch.

Comeau: I think that’s officially the whitest dance ever.

The Ninja actually begins to show signs of life, forcing his way to his feet despite taking that tremendous DDT. Unfortunately he walks right into another one, being quickly placed in a front chancery and hoisted into an implant DDT. Disco is spiked directly on top of his head, sending him into dance orientated convulsions across the canvas.

Mark: That may have taken all the fight out of Disco’s body. He’s moments away from becoming this masked irritation’s employee.

Moore: Hopefully he offers full dental coverage.

The Vigilante’s chest heaves with exhaustion as he sits upright on the canvas, trying to gather himself and plot his strategy. He ascends to his feet after a slight delay and mistakenly doesn’t go for the cover. Instead he tries to mock his opponent once again, turning towards the camera and busting out the Charleston.

Comeau: Oh come on, this isn’t dancing with the stars!

Moore: Yeah, there’s no Warren Sapp.

Obviously the Vigilante is quite sure of himself, taking his dear old time as he pulls Disco to his knees and hooks his arms around his waist. It takes all of his strength but he hoists the Ninja into the air, placing him in a dominator position. He now stretches Disco over his shoulder repeatedly, putting tremendous pressure on the lower back.

He now rushes at the turnbuckle, intending to drive an upside down Disco chest first against it. To the Vigilante’s dismay that Disco Ninja is able to slip out of this predicament and land on his feet right behind his opposition.

The Masked Vigilante realizes he’s lost his grasp on his opponent but continues into the turnbuckle nevertheless. He jumps into the air, landing feet first on the second rope and changes up his strategy by diving out of the corner into a twisting crossbody.

Disco turns just in time to drop out of the way of his opponent, causing Vigilante to crash hard stomach and chest first against the canvas. The crossbody attempt was completely avoided, leaving the Masked Crusader gripping at his ribs and trying to push through the pain.

He struggles towards his feet while Disco Ninja sashays towards him and wedges his shoulder to his spine. He hooks the Vigilante under the leg and around the neck, falling back into a bridging Regal suplex.

1

2

The Masked Vigilante kicks out, just barely avoiding defeat and dropping over onto his knees. Instinctively he begins to ascend towards his feet when the Ninja rolls backwards, outstretching his legs and dropping his shins on his shoulders.

Disco goes for a head scissors take down only to have his opponent press his hands to his knees and shove the legs forward. That Disco Ninja ends up rolling right back to his feet with the Vigilante stepping up behind him, hooking both legs and spinning him around yet again into position for the unprettier.

At the last moment Disco pulls his head free from between the shoulders and shoves his rival towards a turnbuckle.

Once again the Masked Vigilante chances fate by jumping to the middle rope. Unfortunately it doesn’t go as he had planned yet again, because this time the Ninja jumps to the corner behind him, catching him around the waist and hitting a super German suplex.

Comeau: AHHHH, Disco Ninja nailing the NINJTASTIC!

Moore: I want to have that name’s babies.

The Manhattan Center is exploding over the maneuver that flipped the Vigilante completely over and sent him crashing face first off of the canvas. He bounces up onto his knees, looking as if he’s lost all mental faculties at this point. After wavering back and forth for a moment he finally tumbles to the canvas. Disco pushes him to his back amongst a hailstorm of cheers.

The crowd is going bonkers as Disco Ninja hooks both legs for the pin.

Mark: We may be on the brink of seeing an unmasking.

Moore: As long as its not Jack Palance’s face under there I’ll be fine.

The crowd chants along with each slap of the canvas.

1

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3

The Vigilante kicks out just a second too late.

Mark: Disco’s bested the Vigilante! Finally we’re going to get some answers.

Moore: The mask is gonna be taken off. This is so much fun. I hope it’s Doink the Clown.

The Manhattan Center is buzzing as that Disco Ninja sits up, trying to catch his breathe after this fast paced, grueling encounter. Behind him, the Masked Vigilante is rolling across the canvas, getting dangerously close to the ropes. He reaches out for them, perhaps prepared to bolt from the ring only to have his ankle grabbed.

He’s caught in the clutches of that Disco Ninja, who refuses to let him get away so easily. The Vigilante grasps the cables even tighter, desperately trying to pull himself to the outside of the ring and keep his identity a secret. Disco jumps onto the upper back of his rival, trying to rip off the mask to much delight from the audience.

Comeau: Take that mask off of him, get it off! End the mystery right now!

Moore: I hope he’s not wearing an elaborate series of masks under that mask.

The back of the Vigilante’s head is now revealed but his face is still obscured by the black fabric. Suddenly he back elbows the Ninja to his ribs, knocking the air out of him and providing just the moment he needed to escape the ring, secret identity in tact.

He drops to the mats and fidgets with the mask, pulling it over his entire head and backing up the ramp. Chuckles emit from beneath the fabric as he shakes his head and refuses to hold up his end of the bargain.

Mark: This is ridiculous. Doesn’t anyone stand by their word anymore?

Susie: I do, especially if it involves my tea party.

Comeau: Now is not the time for….ah forget it, not like you’ll listen anyhow.

Moore: What was that? I was visualizing the seating arrangements.

Disco stands up in the ring, pointing over the ropes with a trembling finger aimed at the fleeing Vigilante. He continues to back peddle, chuckling to himself and shaking his head. He has no idea that a figure has emerged from behind him and is rushing towards his back.

Max Craven grabs the back of the Vigilante’s head and his belt, charging him towards the ring.

Comeau: Craven coming out here for some payback!

Just before he can be thrown back into the ring the Vigilante squirms free. He forces himself out of the clutches of Craven but leaves something behind in the X-Class Champion’s palm. The crowd is screaming as the mask hangs from Craven’s clutches, Max staring into it oddly.

Mark: I KNEW IT!

It takes a moment for the Vigilante to realize his mask is missing, palming his exposed face until it dawns on him that the whole world now knows his identity. The crowd reacts with repulsion at the mere sight of Jackson Adams.

Susie: Awww, it wasn’t Doink at all.

Comeau: The Alpha Generation’s Jackson Adams has been unmasked. He was the Vigilante all along.

Jackson continues to feel at his exposed features, stunned that his mask was removed. Craven throws the mask over his shoulder and into the ring where it’s eagerly snatched up by Disco. He points at the mask and tries to laugh over Jackson’s misfortunes. Adams rushes up the ramp and to the backstage area, thoroughly embarrassed.

Craven and Disco Ninja are left behind to lament over the fruits of their labors.

Comeau: Another intriguing encounter here tonight between the Masked Vigilante and Disco Ninja. Who would have thought the man behind the mask was Jackson Adams?

Moore: I think it’s really Bill Clinton in a Jackson Adams mask.

Mark: Stranger things have….wait, wait, I’m getting word that there’s a commotion backstage. Can someone get a camera back there quick?

TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS

A group of trainers and agents are crowded around a figure strewn across the floor.

Road Agent: He’s hurt bad. I don’t know if we should try to move him or not.

Trainer: No, no, we need to get him out of here before he looses too much blood.

A concerned road agent glances over his shoulder at the looming Nathan Creed. A look of confusion is draped across Nathan’s features as a dented steel pipe hangs from his palm.

Road Agent: What’s wrong with you? Get the hell out of here, GET OUT OF HERE!

He points off down the hallway as Nathan raises his bloodied palms defensively and drops the pipe to the floor with a clank. Nathan slowly backs away, his faced weighed with a mixture of emotions. The camera now moves into a better vantage point, no longer staring into the backs of the agents and EMTs. It zooms in between them, focusing right on the blood submerged face of one Johnny Kingdom.

Road Agent: Johnny, can you hear us?

Trainer: Can you try to say something, Johnny?

There is no response from the unconscious Team Leader, claret flowing from a deep gash opened in his forehead.

Comeau: Good lord, I don’t know what to say. Nathan Creed has attacked Johnny Kingdom backstage with that steel pipe. This must be how he planned to fix things.

A trainer is now holding a towel to Kingdom’s forehead, trying to stop the blood flow.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

I stand corrected, THIS is the greatest gimmick EVER

BEFORE THE BREAK

The show comes back live with a frozen feed of the bludgeoned, bloodied Johnny Kingdom laying across the concrete. He’s in the center of a circle comprised of concerned agents, EMTs, and security guards.

Mark: Ladies and gentlemen, we’re on the brink of the biggest main event in Riot! history, yes, I love hyperbole, but before we could get to the lumberjack match, this happened before the commercial break.

Motion is given to the still images, replaying that stunned look on Nathan’s face as he backs away from the blood soaked Kingdom. A dented pipe is clutched in his hand, implying that he was the one who left Kingdom laying in this condition.

Mark: Nathan Creed apparently trying to make things right by assaulting Kingdom before the lumberjack match, taking him out before he could cost Orlando his career.

Moore: If he was taking him out they should at least pick up some Chinese food, I’m hungry.

Comeau: Once again your literal interpretation of my words leaves me dumbfounded.

Susie: Literal? But I speak American.

Mark: Yeah. What effect is this backstage attack going to have on our lumberjack match?

PAT EVANS VS. ORLANDO CRUZE
LUMBERJACK: CAREER MATCH

The show cuts back live to the interior of the Manhattan Center where Nathan Creed is occupying the ringside area alongside a plethora of IWC stars. He looks almost bothered by what transpired in the back just a couple minutes ago, not bringing along his weapon of choice.

Mark: And there’s the man responsible for the backstage attack on Kingdom. I wonder what he’s thinking? This isn’t going to make Orlando happy, it was no way to fix the problem.

Moore: I always use Elmer’s glue to fix my problems.

Comeau: If only all of us were seven. We’ll keep you informed on the condition of the Team Leader once more information becomes available. But shifting gears here, you can see there are many other lumberjacks gathered for this match, including the group wretchedly dubbed Infection.

Savior and Wheeler are located on the side of the ring opposite to Creed. They stare under the ropes at the conflicted face of Nathan. Jason and Christian chuckle amongst themselves over Creed stooping to such dastardly behavior. While their eyes are on Creed they are blind to Shin’s penetrating gaze. Iwate peaks over the broad shoulder of BFG, just one of many members of Porno Lad’s entourage located at ringside.

Porno Lad himself is wearing a taped on beard and checkered shirt as he waves across the ring at Wheeler. The obnoxious smile on the prankster’s face is enough to take Wheeler’s eyes off of Creed and transfer them to Porno’s pearly whites.

Comeau: Many lumberjacks gathered out here tonight, but don’t get me wrong here, I just thought lumberjacks were supposed to keep the peace. I don’t think that’s going to happen with some of the talent at ringside right now.

Moore: I might just fight Porno Lad over that shirt.

Mark: My point exactly.

“You Know My Name” are just the lyrics the fans needed to hear in order to bring them out of their subdued state. Orlando storms through the curtains to the stage to a MAJOR uproar from the packed Manhattan crowd. The walls vibrate as the fans team with excitement, ushering Orlando forth to the ring under a wave of positive energy. Orlando is anything but positive however, considering what just transpired backstage. His feeling of dread increases the moment his eyes meet with Nathan’s. Creed doesn’t even bother to say a word as Orlando passes him by and starts up the stairs.

Comeau: Orlando obviously has a lot on his mind, much of which Creed is the culprit for. As if Orlando needed anything else on his mind right now, with his career on the line and his title shot being taken from him.

Susie: He should slap Nathan on the knuckle with a ruler. Or send him to bed without dinner, that’ll teach him.

Mark: I think more drastic measures will be employed when Orlando and Nathan collide over this issue.

Moore: They should solve their dilemma over a game of Battleship.

Orlando stops on the stairs and continues to eye his long time partner, who is strangely non communicative.

Orlando: We’ll talk about this later.

He now slips through the ropes, choosing a time where his career isn’t on the line to butt heads with his best friend. “Outsider” sends the crowd into a deep depression that enrages him. The vibe in the building is killed by the presence of Pat Evans. The new number one contender strolls to the stage and ambles down the ramp, not even giving the fans the time of day. For once he actually has a pep in his step and a swagger in his hips, walking on clouds to an eventual title match with Christian Savior. That’s when rain clouds form on his bright and shinny day. Nathan lunges out of the crowd of lumberjacks, boots Evans to the ribs and grabs the back of his head.

Comeau: The newly anointed number one contender, Pat Evans, making his way out here and what a disgusting way he was just GIVEN a title shot….wait, Nathan attacking him before he could get to the ring. They’ve been going at it all night long.

Moore: So do my neighbors, they’re always screaming and my walls are always shaking, but they’re just horrible at love making. I probably should just stop recording them.

The fans are going absolutely nuts as a stunned Evans is rushed at the ring and rolled in under the ropes. Wheeler and Savior step in to avenge their business partner only to have the rest of the lumberjacks gather as one around Creed. All of their straps are raised, imploring the Cartel and World Champions to make a move. Obvious by the looks in their eyes and their raised palms they’re second guessing their defense of Evans.

Inside of the ring Pat is beside himself in anger. He rises to his feet and points over the ropes at Creed, swearing revenge. This is exactly what Creed wanted, Evans’ focus on him. It allows Cruze to step up behind Pat and spin him around into a jaw breaking right hand.

Mark: You never take your eyes off of Orlando, a lesson learned by Evans.

Moore: Lessons bore me. That’s why I just picture everyone in their underwear, nice speedo by the way Mark.

Comeau: HEY……it holds everything in place perfectly.

The fans are solidly behind Orlando and each one of his right hands that nail Pat to his square jaw. Evans finds himself falling back first against the ropes and receiving a hard boot to his ribs. The shot doubles Pat over as his wrist is taken and his body is whipped across the ring.

Pat bounces off the far cables and comes rushing back in at Orlando only to be caught with a Samoan Drop. The slam almost bursts Evans kidneys on impact and shatters his ribs, resulting in him rolling instinctively from the ring.

Comeau: I think Pat has forgotten that there’s no escaping this one.

Moore: Just like escaping the theater after a Julia Roberts movie has started.

As soon as Evans’ feet hit the mats he’s popped to the jaw from Porno Lad. BFG moves in using his strap to slap him over the shoulders repeatedly. That’s until Creed pushes them all out of the way, grabs Evans’ shirt, rips it down the middle and exposes his chest for a sternum breaking knife edge chop.

Evans escapes any further brutality by re-entering the ring, where his impatient opponent is waiting to pick up where the lumberjacks left off.

Mark: Evans trapped between a rock and a hard place. Everyone wants a piece of him tonight after the way he was named number one contender. It just undermines our ENTIRE profession.

Moore: I know, I hate things that give this company black eyes.

Comeau: Uh-huh.

Evans suddenly realizes that the true threat resides in the ring as he’s spun around by Orlando, taken under the arm and thrown through the air. Pat catches tremendous height before finally crashing into the canvas, the small of his back enflamed with pain.

It’s at this point that Christian jumps to the apron, flailing his arms and purposely trying to get Cruze’s attention. Orlando backs towards him, unaware of the distraction Savior is trying to pose. That’s when the Icon spins around and decks the World Champion to his jaw, knocking him to the outside of the ring. Wheeler stands back gazing at Savior with a judgmental shake of his head.

Comeau: Orlando laying out Savior. He’s not letting the World Champion cost him his career tonight so he’s laying Christian on his ass right away.

Moore: But Christian has no bum to cushion the fall.

Cruze stares down at the laid out Champion for a few moments before turning around right into a thrust kick under the jaw. The blow knocks the Icon to his back, Evans leaning over him hands on his knees. He takes this rare moment of free time to recover, breathing heavily and trying to work the kinks out of his back.

He now reaches down, pulling his knee pad to his ankle and lunging into the air. The exposed knee cracks Orlando right between the eyes, causing him to convulse in pain. Both palms protect his skull as Orlando writhes across the canvas.

Evans bounces off the ropes at this point and delivers a running stomp to the back of the Icon’s head. Cruze calls out in pain, dropping right back down to the canvas and holding his targeted skull. He finally ends up seated on the canvas, leaning back first against the turnbuckle.

This puts him in perfect position for Pat who steps in and wedges his knee right under the Icon’s throat. He holds onto the top rope, putting all his weight behind the knee. Cruze reaches out, grabbing the shorts of Evans and trying to use this grip to pull his leg away from his throat.

Pat breaks the choke at referee Wright’s behest then moves to the center of the ring. With his knee still exposed however, he rushes right back at Orlando and delivers a running knee strike in the corner. The point of Evans’ knee meets the bridge of Cruze’s nose.

Groans of pain emanate from Orlando as he submerges his face behind his palms and tries to crawl out of the corner. He doesn’t get far before Evans bashes him over the back via a clubbing blow.

Comeau: Evans bending the rules to get himself into the driver’s seat. Come on now Orlando, you have to realize this isn’t just any match, this is all about your retirement, don’t go out on Douglas’ terms.

Moore: I think he should go out on a donkey wearing a sombrero. That would be the best retirement EVER.

Once again Cruze finds himself in prime position for Evans, who jumps into the air and drops with a headbunt to his kidneys. Orlando falls out of the crawling position and rolls towards the ropes, actually ending up outside of them on the apron.

The conniving Evans quickly rushes in and delivers a baseball slide dropkick to Cruze’s kidneys, knocking him to the outside mats where’s he pounced upon by the lumberjacks. Instead of receiving the same brutality that Evans endured earlier, Creed gently guides his friend to his feet and rolls the Icon back into the ring.

Savior and Wheeler watch this with an equal amount of repulsion, appalled by this double standard. Shin also stands back and watches, clearly not concerned with either brutalizing Orlando or assisting him.

Mark: The lumberjacks clearly a bit biased.

Moore: I thought they liked both sexes.

The moment that Orlando re-enters the ring, Pat snatches him by the back of the neck like he were a kitten in the jaws of a momma cat. He rushes Cruze to his feet and across the canvas before pitching him through the ropes right at the feet of Wheeler and Savior.

Christian drops to his knees and begins to repeatedly pop Orlando across the forehead while Wheeler joins in with some well placed strap shots to the lower anatomy.

They do not stop employing these barbaric tactics until the rest of the lumberjacks storm towards them. Iwate shoves Wheeler off of Cruze and sends him spiraling into the barricade. The moment their eyes meet Jason’s eyes widen, shocked that Iwate had the audacity to touch him.

Comeau: The roster stopping the overzealous Savior and Wheeler.

Christian hops over top of Cruze and back peddles across the mats, palms once again raised defensively. This time Porno Lad assists Orlando to his feet and rolls him back into the ring before he can be counted out by referee Wright. Evans moves in and leads the Icon to his feet, stretching his arm across Orlando’s sternum.

He pulls the Tag Team Champion into a knee against the ribs, doubling him over. This allows Pat to step behind his back and charge in with a hard clubbing blow to the neck. Cruze is knocked to the canvas, rolling across it to his back before being promptly covered by Evans, who slithers into the cover.

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Cruze launches his shoulder from the ring, keeping his retirement ambitions alive.

Comeau: Orlando refusing to be put out to pasture on this night.

Moore: My father use to go to the pasture every night, it was his job to inseminate the sheep.

Mark: I pray that he used some type of syringe.

Evans methodically moves to his feet, sits Orlando up on the canvas, takes both his shoulders and begins to drive his exposed knee repeatedly into the small of his back. The knee connects again and again directly to Cruze’s kidneys, causing him to writhe in pain.

That’s when he grabs the ripped fragments of his shirt, removes them from his body and wraps them around his hands. Evans extends his shirt across Orlando’s throat and pulls back, choking the life out of him. Cruze coughs and gags for air as the official steps in, demanding he stop this blatant cheating.

Evans: If you DQ me, you better start looking for a new job!

Wright keeps on protesting even with this knowledge in mind. Finally Evans stops the illegal choke and twists Orlando around into a front chancery, driving his exposed knee down into the top of Cruze’s skull repeatedly. The blows disorientate the Icon to the point where he looses all mental faculties.

This leaves him entirely exposed for Evans, who takes him by the wrist and leads him to his feet before dragging him into a short arm clothesline. The devastating impact of the bicep meeting throat sends Orlando crashing with a thud to the canvas.

Pat lands on his knees right beside him, overlooking the crowd of lumberjacks at ringside. His pupils finally settle on the Future, Nathan seething at what he sees in the ring.

Pat: Come on Creed, get in the ring, get Orlando DQed, spare him any further punishment.

Evans is actually trying to tempt Creed into the ring but Nathan hesitates, reminding himself that if he interferes Orlando will be disqualified and forced into retirement. For once he tries to keep his anger in check for the sake of his partner.

The internal struggle within Creed amuses Evans, who goes right back to his primary target. Orlando has rolled to his elbows and knees as Evans charges in and delivers a swift kick right to his ribcage.

Cruze is flipped over onto his back, arms wrapped around his gut, something perhaps busted internally. That’s when Pat steps in, forcing him up to his feet and back first into the ropes. He drags down on the back of Orlando’s head and blasts him to the neck with a clubbing blow.

The shot almost knocks the Icon to the canvas, forcing him to sit on the middle rope for support.

Mark: This is just a methodical beat down from Evans, Orlando’s body just can’t tolerate much more of this despite how motivated he may be.

Susie: I chew bubble gum to get me motivated. That and listen to Sunny and Cher.

Pat wedges his feet to the canvas and whips Orlando across the ring only for the Icon to put the kibosh on it. He spins around in the center of the ring and drags Evans straight into his shoulder, hoisting him into the air and spinning around into the spinebuster.

The former Submission Champion is slammed with ring shaking impact against the canvas, causing him to convulse terribly. The Icon rises to a kneeling base, unable to go for the pinfall due to his damaged cranium. This delay from the Icon allows Pat to roll away, creating some much needed distance.

The space between them is evaporated the moment that Orlando regains his faculties, storming towards Evans. Pat has just reached his feet before almost swallowing Orlando’s fist all the way up the elbow. Somehow Evans remains upright, swinging one arm in a daze to keep himself vertical.

Orlando boots him to the ribs, doubling him over and putting him in place for a front chancery. That’s when Evans swings out of the predicament for the DDT and hooks Cruze’s arm from behind. He is about to deliver the death nail, otherwise known as his patented Spinal Tap back breaker.

Before he can connect Orlando drops to his knees and actually flips Evans over his head. Pat drops into a forward roll across the canvas before ending up on his feet. He refuses to allow Orlando to feel good about himself, rushing in to ruin this moment but being caught right across the sternum.

Orlando sets for the Rock Bottom but his body is too weak to hold on. Evans swings around behind the arm, grabs the back of Orlando’s head and his tights, then tosses him through the cables. Orlando splats across the mats at the feet of the Infection once again.

Wheeler takes one of his wrists and Savior takes the other, dragging him to his feet then whipping him right at the barricade. Orlando turns around slamming into the steel violently back first, his arms falling over the barrier to hold himself up.

Comeau: Every time Orlando starts to get momentum on his side, Evans sends him to the outside where the Infection picks Cruze’s bones clean.

Moore: That was gruesome, you should say something a little more cheerful and upbeat. Maybe they pick his jolly spots like clowns.

Mark: I think I’ve seen that in a Max Craven film.

Wheeler and Savior tee off on Orlando, alternating between one another as they rifle off right hands into his forehead and delivers shots to his chest with their straps. Once again Nathan leads the rest of the lumberjacks in a charge that sends Christian and Jason headed for the hills. They flee the moment Creed and Iwate get within striking range.

Orlando staggers along behind his partner and rolls back into the ring where Evans pounces on him with stomp after stomp. The boots inflict a great deal of damage on the already traumatized body of the Icon but Evans isn’t satisfied with mere stomps.

He guides Cruze to his feet and slaps him to the cheek. The hard strike knocks Cruze once again into a seated position against the middle rope where Orlando is taken under the jaw. Pat leans in, talking some smack right into Cruze’s face.

Evans: I want you to remember Extinction, Orlando. I want you to remember when you meddled in my business and cost me the Submission title. Did you think there wouldn’t be blow back? I hope taking my title was worth your CAREER!

Orlando is forced to a fully upright position then whipped chest first into a nearby turnbuckle. The Icon falls against it with his arms dangling over the ropes, a glassed over glint to his eyes. Pat charges up behind him delivering hard forearms to his kidney area, employing both arms to uncoil these strikes.

He snatches the back of Orlando’s trunks and pulls him backwards into his waiting shoulder, then lifts him into the air before hitting the suplex. Cruze’s back is slammed viciously against the canvas while Evans stands up and moves behind his back.

Both of Cruze’s legs are draped over Evans’ shoulders, the number one contender leaning down into the back of the knees. He puts his feet up on the turnbuckle for added leverage on his pin. The official falls down making the count.

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Creed reaches through the ropes and pushes Evans’ feet off of the turnbuckle, breaking up the illegal pinfall.

Comeau: Creed’s presence at ringside paying in dividends for Orlando. He just kept Pat from cheating his way to victory.

Evans steps over Orlando, grabs the top rope and springs from the middle one, going for a Vader-esque splash on his prone opponent. He’s blissfully unaware that Orlando has stood up and caught Pat’s shins on his shoulders. He pushes his legs up into the air and sends Evans twisting over the top rope, crashing to the outside mats.

A stunned Pat spills across the mats when the lumberjacks once again rush in. This time Porno Lad leads the charge and unlike before, Evans high tails it, deeming a retreat to be the best course of action. He charges right around the ring with Creed, Iwate, Porno Lad, BFG and a number of local jobbers nipping at his heels.

Comeau: Evans running for his life! If that roster gets their hands on him again they’ll rip Pat limb from limb.

Moore: Sounds fun. I’ll make it an annual event at my tea party.

Pat now squeezes between the Infection, Christian and Wheeler forming a wall between him and his pursuers. An usually confident and coy Evans shouts over the shoulders of his allies, baiting Nathan or Iwate to try and get at him now. Smug grins reside on the faces of Wheeler and Savior, the two nodding towards the group, realizing that the men before them are all talk.

Shin and Nathan now glance in one another’s directions before shrugging and throwing fists. Their shots connect with the jaws of the stunned Infection members, the Cartel and World Champions absolutely reeling.

Comeau: And it’s finally broken down at ringside! Savior and Wheeler being assaulted by the other lumberjacks. We knew it was just a matter of time.

Moore: I knew nothing, but I’ll pretend that I did so I can sound smart.

Mark: No force on earth or in the heavens will achieve that sweety.

Iwate has physically shoved all the lumberjacks out of his way, leaving him alone to tee off on Jason Wheeler. Instead of interjecting, Porno Lad just stands back, palms held aloft, graciously allowing Iwate to do the brunt of the work. Wheeler’s eyes are wide as he leans spine first against the apron, suffering right hand after right hand to the forehead.

Shin inflicts as much damage as he can on the man who stole his Cartel title while given this rare opportunity. The rest of the lumberjacks have swarmed on Christian Savior, who tries to crawl away only to be stomped by Nathan Creed repeatedly.

The Future now drops down and places him in a side headlock, nailing repeated right hands to his face. The local jobbers crowd around, showering Nathan with support as jab after jab is landed.

In the midst of the chaos, Pat has abandoned his cohorts, stepping over the barricade into the crowd. He realizes that this is a lost cause as long as Nathan is rallying the lumberjacks in support behind him; therefore he opts to escape through the booing fans.

Comeau: Look at this piece of slime Evans trying to hit the bricks. The moment things don’t start going his way he runs off like a frightened dog.

Moore: Hehehehe, I’ve scared a dog before, it’s so funny when they put their tail between their legs and start pooping all over the carpet. Naturally I bag the poop to set it on fire later.

Mark: DAMMIT. I knew that was you, you ruined a hundred dollar pear of Italian loafers.

Evans takes a few steps through the crowd when Orlando rushes up behind him and delivers a hard clubbing blow between the shoulder blades. Pat is staggered and then grabbed by the back of his head. A panicked glint inhabits his eyes as he’s turned back towards the ring, charged at the barrier and pitched over it to the ringside area.

Pat crashes hard to the mats but doesn’t lay there for long, because Orlando quickly guides him to his feet and rolls him back into the ring so that he can continue to inflict punishment. The Icon slides in right after him before Pat steps in to nail a right hand only to have his arm blocked. Orlando quickly delivers a shot so devastating that it takes Evans right back down to the canvas.

Evans rolls across the ring as Orlando bounces off the ropes and flies through the air, connecting with a diving European Uppercut.

Comeau: Orlando is really cooking now.

Susie: I hope he’s not making broccoli.

Evans is down on the canvas with Orlando crawling into the cover, on the brink of saving his career.

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To a riotous reaction Evans kicks out, his shoulder shooting from the ring in the nick of time. Cruze rolls to his seat, realizing that his retirement plans still hang in jeopardy. He takes deep calming breathes but everything occurring outside of the ring is anything but peaceful.

Wheeler is now on his seat being stomped to the sternum maliciously by Iwate, who won’t be satisfied until he’s drawn blood. His lofty goals are dashed the moment a massive hand engulfs his shoulder and pulls him away from Wheeler.

Shin spins around to spot Psycho taking his place, stomping down at the Cartel Champion repeatedly.

Comeau: And now Psycho joining the fray. He told Iwate he deserved his spot as a lumberjack and he meant it apparently. Of course this can’t sit well with the Asian Nightmare.

Psycho begins to deliver right hands down into his rival’s forehead, attempting to inflict as much punishment as humanly possible.

Psycho: I told you I’d make everyone who had a hand in Riggs’ destruction PAY. Now it’s time to collect.

He wedges his hand to Jason’s throat, trying to choke the life out of him before Iwate interferes. This time it’s Psycho who is spun around, staring into the soulless eyes of the Man with Death on His Mind.

They stare into each other’s faces with rage changing their skin tones to a bright red. Without so much as a word being uttered between them, Psycho and Iwate begin to exchange fists. The fans are exploding as the two nail rights to one another’s features, almost breaking the bones beneath the reddish flesh.

Comeau: Now Psycho and Iwate coming to blows. Can’t anyone get on the same page when it concerns the Conspiracy?

Moore: Not if it’s one of those books with all the options. I still can never pick the right chapter that gets me past the dark sinister cave.

Inside of the ring Orlando has Evans seated in a far corner, kicking away at his chest. He has no idea that Wheeler has fled the ringside chaos by rolling into the squared circle behind him. Porno Lad and BFG are trying to alert Shin and Psycho that their target has escaped, but neither man is listening.

They are too consumed with their own budding issues to realize that Wheeler has rushed into the far ropes, bouncing from them then cartwheeling across the canvas. He ends up back flipping out of the cartwheel right over the ropes, connecting with a moonsault onto almost everyone at ringside.

Psycho, Iwate, Porno Lad, BFG, they all crumble under Jason’s dive while the fans cannot hold back their “HOLY SHIT” chants.

Comeau: Jason just took out the lumberjacks with the Sesuke Special!!

The walls of the Manhattan Center are still teaming with excitement as Wheeler grips at his ribs and rolls off of all the bodies. He is unable to assist Savior, who has been taken by the back of the head and repeatedly slammed face first off of the steps. Creed shows no remorse, each time he slaps Savior’s face against the stairs it brings him closer and closer to vindication for himself and McMorris.

That’s when Nathan is finally caught with a low blow, Christian mule kicking him directly to the testicles. The Future doubles over grabbing at his genitalia when Wheeler recovers enough to step up to one of his sides. He snatches the tights and the back of the head while Savior does the same on the opposite side of the Future.

Creed is charged by both men towards the barricade before being thrown face first with unbelievable velocity against the steel. His skull almost cracks thanks to the impact, rendering him motionless across the mats.

Mark: Now Savior and Wheeler taking Creed out. This doesn’t vote well for Orlando, he’s suddenly went from having plenty of back up at ringside to now having none.

Moore: I’ll help him. As long as I don’t have to leave my seat, and he accepts my tea party invitation.

The unfortunate jobbers selected from the local talent pool are victimized by the Cartel and World Champions at this point, being laid out by rapid fire punches.

Orlando pays the anarchy outside the ring little mind as he drags Evans out of the corner, only be grabbed by the front of his tights and pulled down face first into the second turnbuckle pad. His head snaps back due to the impact, almost breaking his nose as he staggers backwards towards a recovering Evans.

The former Submission Champion turns Orlando around and sweeps the legs out from under him. He now drops back, catapulting Cruze through the air. Unfortunately, the referee is right in the Icon’s path of travel and he doesn’t even realize it as he leans through the ropes shouting at the Infection.

He regrets turning his back when Cruze crashes into him, knocking the underpaid official through the ropes and to the outside mats. He becomes just one of many bodies strewn around the ring.

Comeau: Now the referee being taken out. Is there nobody safe from this chaos?

Moore: I know I am, because I brought my rape whistle.

Orlando leans on the ropes before slowly inching his way to his feet. He staggers back in shock over his unintended impact with the ref, leaving him distracted just long enough to be hoisted into the air and nailed with the Spinal Tap. Cruze drops off the raised knee of Evans and begins to convulse across the canvas, the pain indescribable.

Mark: SPINAL TAP!

Moore: I hate their music.

Orlando continues to grip at his kidneys in tremendous pain, leaving him prone to the pin. Evans remains on his knees, realizing that victory is within his grasp, but there’s no referee to make the count. That’s when Savior eagerly snatches up the referee and rolls him back into the ring. Christian and Jason enter as well, the champions grabbing the unconscious referee and dragging him towards the lifeless slab of meat known as Orlando.

Evans drops forward into the lateral press, every fan in attendance screaming as they realize his career may just be over. The official is almost lifeless yet has just enough strength to lift his arm, slowly making the count.

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That’s it, put a fork in Orlando, HE’S DONE, or so that’s what the Conspiracy thinks. Their faces flush with shock the moment Orlando saves his career by launching a shoulder from the canvas.

Comeau: Orlando STILL has fight left in him. After six years of overcoming the odds he refuses to let it catch up to him tonight.

Moore: This is as epic as the opera. If the opera had evil factions, feline women, ladders holding titles, and lots of grand larceny. Actually it’s nothing like the opera.

Mark: Again….stop trying.

Evans, Wheeler and Savior are unable to put into words just how shocked they are. The Infection stoops over Orlando’s prone body, ready to feast on what remains of his tattered frame. Evans rises alongside of them, eyes shifting between both of his associates but centering on Savior the second he extracts something from his tights. No, NOT THAT.

A chain hangs from Savior’s palm swinging like a pendulum. Evans is immediately hypnotized, snatching the chain from his partner’s palm and wrapping it around his knuckles.

Wheeler reaches down and graciously props Orlando up, arms pinned behind his back. He is completely exposed at this point.

At the same time as restraining the lifeless Cruze, Wheeler is demanding that Evans finish this once and for all. Pat squeezes the chain in his palm and savors this moment before rushing forward and slamming the chain right against Orlando’s jaw.

The impact knocks every bit of fight from his soul and sends his body plummeting to the canvas. He lays strewn across the canvas a motionless heap as Savior and Evans stand over his body, cackling like hyenas. Wheeler watches on stoically, enjoying the impending conclusion to Orlando’s career.

Comeau: This can’t be it. This can’t be how Orlando’s legacy dies.

Evans drops to his knees and falls at a brisk pace into the cover. He hooks the leg laughing all the while, amused that he’s going to receive the honor of ending Orlando’s career right here live on Riot! Again Savior drags the referee across the canvas and drops him beside the cover, demanding he make the count.

His almost lifeless hand raises into the air and falls to the canvas. The crowd is almost in tears as they watch the curtains drop on Orlando’s career.

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Tension creeps over the crowd, their faces frozen in suspense before their hopes are realized the moment Orlando’s shoulder flies off the canvas.

Susie: O-M-G!

Comeau: Orlando kicks out….again…I can’t….I don’t…this is ridiculous!

The Manhattan Center crowd is alive, just like Orlando’s retirement ambitions as he gets his shoulder up. Savior and Wheeler are even more surprised than the official, as is Evans who rolls to his knees, hands frantically ripping at his hair.

He turns around and snatches Orlando, not fully accepting that he just kicked out. Cruze is propped on his feet and Evans shouts instructions from behind him.

Evans: Rip him in half! Spear! SPEAR!!

Savior doesn’t have to be told twice, already getting into the crouching position. There is nothing left of Orlando, a dry husk left behind, slobber oozing from the cracks of his mouth and his eyes devoid of all consciousness. Evans continues to hold him up, his face ripe with intensity.

Christian continues to kneel, licking his upper lip with anticipation.

Mark: This is it, this is Orlando’s career.

Savior bolts across the ring, each step he takes a moment in history, then dives forward for his patented spear. For the second time tonight it connects, on the wrong talent. Evans is almost cut in half by his partner’s spear, having been left to take the impact the moment Creed dragged Orlando out of the way.

Comeau: Somehow Nathan mustered the strength to pull his partner out of that spear’s path, leaving Evans to suffer the consequences.

Moore: I’ll make sure Savior and Evans don’t share a seat beside each other at the party.

Mark: Is it really necessary for you to say “at the party?” Do we really need to be reminded at this point?

Savior looks truly remorseful as he stares into the writhing features of his teammate, although looks can frequently be misleading. Nathan leads an almost unconscious Orlando irresponsibly into Wheeler’s range. Jason moves in and begins to slug both men to their foreheads.

Cruze collapses to his knees, unable to put up a fight thanks to that chain shot to the jaw. Wheeler and Creed are left to wage war one on one. That is until Savior intervenes, blasting Creed to the upper back with a forearm strike then wedging his shoulder into his spine.

He lifts Creed into the air only for Nathan to kick Wheeler to the chest in the process. Both boots send Jason reeling backwards into the ropes, falling unto them for support. He and his brother are unable to prevent Creed from flipping over Savior’s shoulder and landing on his feet behind him.

Savior is doubled over backwards and then hit with the Upset. The Eye of the Hurricane plants Christian with force to the canvas, taking out the World Champion. Nathan rises back to his feet all jacked up on raw emotion, until he turns directly into a superkick under the jaw.

Wheeler’s boot almost knocks out the few teeth that remain in Nathan’s mouth. The energy has been sucked out of the arena thanks to Wheeler, who slowly turns wearing a pompous smirk but finds himself caught across the chest and hoisted into the Rock Bottom.

Comeau: Superkick knocking out Creed before Wheeler is drilled to the ring with a Rock Bottom by Orlando! This lumberjack match is….

Before the sentence can be finished, Orlando struggles to his feet, turning exhaustedly into a chair shot right between the eyes. The steel breaks Cruze’s forehead wide open, blood spewing out and across the canvas. The screaming crowd caught up in this emotional roller coaster, are floored by the sight of Johnny Kingdom standing over Cruze’s lifeless body, steel chair in hand.

Mark: NOOO!! Kingdom with a chair over Orlando’s head. I thought he was taken out of here by stretcher. It looks like nothing would keep him from forcing Orlando into retirement.

The Icon is sprawled across the canvas, Johnny standing over him dented steel chair in hand. Much like the debilitated Icon he too wears a mask of blood, but it doesn’t stop him from approaching the recovering Creed. Nathan has gotten to his feet long enough to be cracked over the head with the steel.

Comeau: Now Kingdom has taken out Creed, preventing him from interfering yet again in the forced retirement of Orlando Cruze.

Moore: He’s hitting everyone, thank goodness for that metal plate in my head, it should shield me from any chair shots.

The fans are still screaming as the vengeful Kingdom looms over the bodies of the Icon and the Future, but he isn’t done yet. The moment that Evans drags himself up the ropes and stumbles to the center of the ring his face is smashed with a thunderous chair shot as well.

The steel connects with enough force to shatter every bone in Evans’ face, his brutalized body tumbling to the ring.

Mark: Now he’s taken out Evans! Kingdom has just absolutely snapped.

The chair is thrown to the canvas at this point as Kingdom stand over a pile of bodies both inside and outside of the ring. The whites of his eyes can be seen through the mask of blood as they survey the screaming audience. It’s at this point that he then grabs Orlando’s wrist and rags his near lifeless body across the canvas, draping his arm across Pat’s sternum.

Comeau: Whoa, whoa, whoa, what is Kingdom doing?

Moore: Creating a new form of abstract art?

Mark: He’s putting Cruze on top of Evans.

Johnny steps back and nudges the still incoherent ref with his foot, barking at him to make the count. Every fan in attendance stands as one in astonishment as the ref’s hand sluggishly slaps the canvas.

1

2

3!

Comeau: I just don’t believe it, but Orlando IS victorious! Cruze will not retire tonight and it’s all thanks to…Johnny Kingdom.

Moore: Stranger things have happened. One time I picked my nose until I stabbed myself in the brain.

The building shakes with applause from the crazed Manhattan crowd, overjoyed that Orlando has saved his job with the Team Leader’s assistance. The World Champion, Christian Savior, looks up in a very dazed state, realizing that Orlando has prevailed. The agonizing Wheeler derives the same level of repulsion from this victory.

Johnny slowly steps towards the sprawled out Cruze, stepping over him and looking down into his face. Blood consumes both of their features as the Team Leader forces one of Orlando’s eyes open so that he can see him.

Kingdom: If you think anyone but ME is ending your career then you’re wrong. I’m going to do what no one else could and put you down myself.

He steps back after making this statement, his testosterone giving out as he tumbles against the ropes for support. He stares through the crimson into the unconscious features of the Icon who’s career he’s saved here tonight, just so he could be the one to end it himself.

Comeau: I don’t even know how I can describe this night. We all thought we were going to see the end of Orlando’s career, but in the end he prevailed against seemingly insurmountable odds, all thanks to an unlikely assist from Kingdom. Boy, what a night this has been.

Moore: I haven’t had this much fun since my first period.

On the outside of the ring jobbers are still trying to separate Shin Iwate and Psycho, who have picked up right where they left, exchanging blows. All the while Kingdom surveys the sea of bodies littering the ring.

FADE TO BLACK