OPENING VIDEO

APPRECIATION

There are no pyrotechnics, there are no pre-show rumblings from the audience, and there is no bickering between Mark Comeau and Susie Moore. Instead of the usual commencement to an edition of Riot!, the fans are treated to an unbelievable sight. They are almost so stunned by the image inside of the ring that they go as brain dead as Jessica Simpson. Obviously they have no idea how to react at the sight of Dan Douglas and Oleska Drachewych standing SIDE by SIDE in the center of the ring.

Mark Comeau: Ummm, uh, yeah, welcome to Riot! It’s safe to say that I feel like a slobbering idiot over what I see in the ring.

Susie Moore: You’re not the only one. Of course that’s not a unique feeling for me.

Comeau: I know for a fact that it isn’t. This has to be one of the biggest moments in IWC history, no, no, wrestling history in general, IWC President Dan Douglas, and SCW President Oleska Drachewych are standing in the ring TOGETHER.

The IWC Championship adorns the shoulder of Dan Douglas, while the SCW World Heavyweight title is draped over Mr. Drachewych’s arm as well. The only difference between the corpulent Presidents is the microphone raised to Oleska’s lips.

Mr. Drachewych: Welcome….

He gives his word a moment to sink in on the frozen fans.

Mr. Drachewych: Welcome to a new age.

The fans are suddenly awoken, beginning to boo.

Mr. Drachewych: Welcome to a new era. A new DAWN in not only the SCW and the IWC, but the entirety of the wrestling world.

Olek balls up his fingers, as if he’s holding the planet in his palm.

Mr. Drachewych: I know you’re shocked, not just because your seeing Dan Douglas and MR. Oleska Drachewych standing SIDE by SIDE…

Douglas stretches his arm over Oleska’s back as the two pause briefly for a photo-op.

Mr. Drachewych:…but because history is being made in another fashion. Don’t get me wrong, us being together is pretty historical, but nowhere near as legendary as the accomplishment of one man. An immaculate, magnificent, history altering champion, a person who has brought the world to the precipice of an awakening.

It’s clear that they know who is being referenced, eliciting a wave of hostility from the crowd. As if the crowd didn’t have enough cause to vomit at the sight of the SCW President in an IWC ring, he’s now buttering up Savior like he were the second coming of Christ.

Mr. Drachewych: Like the moon landing, and the first time the Beetles appeared on Ed Sullivan, this legend accomplished something that transcends time itself. So prepare to bask in this moment, a moment you’ll remember for the rest of your lives. A moment you’ll pass down to future generations like a cherished heirloom.

The crowd is almost rabid in their anger, defying Oleska’s orders. Finally the microphone is handed over to an equally as repugnant President. Dan raises the mic to his mouth with all the confidence of a fox in a henhouse.

Dan: Don’t sit there and take this lightly. You know only something HUGE could bring these two titans of industry together…

Now Mr. Drachewych steps in and produces his cheesiest grin to the delight of the flashing cameras.

Douglas: We’ve come here to APPRECIATE a modern day messiah, a man who’s achievement is on par with turning water into wine, and walking on water. Oleska and I don’t see eye to eye on very much, but even we’re in agreement that the man about to enter this ring is undeniably the GREATEST World Champion of all times.

Douglas graciously holds the microphone under Mr. Drachewych’s lips.

Mr. Drachewych: Move over Ali, step out of the way Shamrock, fall to your knees CHBK and Orlando Cruze, because your achievements are meaningless when compared to our UNIFIED World Champion.

The mic is brought back to the delighted Douglas.

Douglas: Now is the opportunity to truly LIVE this moment. Take a page from our book and join together like Oleska and I to APPRECIATE the first ever SCW and IWC Unified World Heavyweight Champion.

He motions to the entry way with all the enthusiasm of a children opening a B.B gun on Christmas Eve. Let’s just hope it doesn’t put his eye out.

Dan: Do as Oleska ordered and STAND. Stand as one, stand as loyal supporters of the Champ. Stand and show your love for CHRISTIAN SAVIOR!

Upon completing his introduction with more gusto than Michael Buffer, Douglas and Oleska simultaneously begin to clap. However, the crowd does not copy their reaction; instead they stand with arms crossed remaining as defiant as ever.

Mark: Would somebody please gag these two?

Moore: I can, after all, I’m an expert at gaging.

Despite their unanimous annoyance, the crowd turns nevertheless to the entry way. Of course, their not treated to a regular Christian Savior entrance, oh no, that would be too tolerable. The curtains and stage are immediately bombarded with laser lights so powerful they could fix a person’s cataracts. Fog rolls in over the stage and more fire shoots through the grated steel than during a Kiss concert.

All the while a gothic choir hums a Gregorian tune, building to the arrival of the champion.

Comeau: Good God, I think this entrance alone is going to eat up half of the show.

Moore: Dammit, we won’t have time for my tea party then, will we?

Mark: I can only hope.

The gothic choir continues to provide the most spine tingling tune humanly imaginable before it comes to an epic culmination. The payoff of all this needless build is a dazzling fireworks display that consumes the stage, the rafters, the tiontron, and the entry way, followed by the lyrics of “Falling in the Black” The crowd responds with such disgust that you’d think Louie Anderson was pole dancing in the ring.

They wait now for Savior to react on cue to his music and to stroll down the stage. Yet again that would be too simply, and far too cheap. Therefore a spotlight shines down from the top of the arena to the center of the ring, highlighting Savior.

He is supported high above the ring on a cable, arms stretched out to his sides.

Susie: It’s JESUS! Oh no, oh no, why did the rapture have to happen now? I’m not even wearing clean underwear.

Now the fans are even more appalled, watching Christian in his religiously symbolic pose lower slowly towards the ring. Mr. Drachewych and Douglas step back and watch wide eyed, their mouths gawking at the stunning image above them. After several moments of delay the Unified World Champion drops to his feet, arms still stretched out to his sides and face aimed towards the heavens.

The IWC World Title is placed over one of his biceps, while the SCW Championship is flopped over the other. He takes a deep cleansing breathe as the microphone is bestowed unto his palm. His head lowers, smile stretched over his face and shoulders consumed in title gold.

Christian: Thanks.

He becomes all the more cocky now that he’s sure he’s rubbed his superiority in the faces of the fans. They boo him harshly, yet nothing takes the swagger out of his step and the cocksure smile off of his face.

Savior: It’s good to know that you’re appreciated. It’s not a ”requirement” like some people think it is, *cough*Orlando*cough*, but from time to time it’s nice to be reminded of just how good you are.

The crowd stick their fingers down their throats, hoping to vomit.

Christian: And yes, I am that good. I am worthy of praise, unlike some people, *cough*Orlando*cough*. I am the UNIFIED CHAMPION!

The grin on his face is so confident it makes the fans want to jump the barrier and give him an anus ripping wedgie.

Savior: I have done what NOBODY else could. What NOBODY else even dreamed of. What NOBODY else would even dare to attempt. So yeah, it’s nice to see that my accomplishment is appreciated, at least by those who count.

Drachewych steps to one side of him and Douglas to the other, their hands placed over his World Title belts.

Christian: Although some have had trouble expressing their appreciation lately…

He glances uncomfortably at Douglas from the corner of his eye.

Savior: But it’s times like these that show why my intellectual prowess, my in ring aptitude, my raw talent, and undeniable charisma outshines everyone else, and makes me deserving of RESPECT. Face it people, you have to respect me now, like Oleksa and Dan, you’ve GOT to appreciate me.

Dan and Drachewych are in the process of pointing at the crowd, shouting for them to change their tune.

Comeau: Oh come on, he won one championship due to the interference of a paid off referee, and the other by beating a man who had already competed in a hellacious World title match.

Moore: Uh-huh, so what your telling me is that I shouldn’t keep this free Christian Savior bobble-head I was given?

The ice cold reaction continues from the crowd.

Savior: My accomplishments DEMAND respect. If you people fail to APPRECIATE me it not only makes you hypocrites but idiots too. And I refuse to demean such an achievement and my now LEGENDARY status in front of a bunch of ungrateful morons. It’s already bad enough I have to compete in New York City, constantly trying to keep from being mugged by hooligans and avoiding stray 747s.

The fans are increasingly irritated that they didn’t sneak their guns into the Manhattan Center.

Christian: But to have your idiocy tarnish this moment of raw beauty would be too much for even I to overlook. If you could sit there buttering up the likes of Johnny Kingdom and Orlando Cruze, who by the way have accomplished NOTHING in comparison with me, then you had better…..

WAKE UP

Like a true savior Johnny Kingdom’s music has kept the fans from committing a lynching. Savior spins towards the stage, as angry as that inflatable Samurai at the end of Big Trouble in Little China. If he could combust he would, but opts instead to hand his titles off to an equally as disgusted Douglas and Drachewych so that he can prepare for fisticuffs.

Comeau: FINALLY! I’m so grateful that someone is putting an end to this.

Moore: I could have, but it would involve me putting down this yo-yo. I’m still trying to figure out how to work it.

Savior is all ready for a fight, prepared for anything that comes through the curtains to ruin this otherwise blessed event. But now it’s Johnny who fails to make his usual entrance, earth shattering stomps, confident gestures and all. However, he doesn’t make some over the top entrance like Christian Savior, instead he’s perfectly satisfied with taking over the big screen.

To the delight of the masses, Johnny Kingdom’s face consumes the titantron, his back surrounded by darkness. Laughter is preceded by clapping from the Team Leader.

Kingdom: Holy snikies, what an ENTRANCE!

Christian stews, knowing Kingdom never serves insults without an insult chaser.

Johnny: Only a real star can totally rip off Shawn Michaels and get away with it. Kudos Christian, kudos.

He puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles.

Kingdom: Man, too bad all that build up and that GRANDIOSE entrance was wasted on an insignificant bore like you.

Savior laughs and motions for his employers to hold up the belts, which Drachewych and Douglas graciously do, all the while wearing larger than life smiles on their faces.

Johnny: Oh, oh yeah, you lucked your way into holding two titles at once, I guess we actually have to take you seriously now.

He takes a moment to think about it, finger raised to his chin and everything.

Kingdom: But you know what, NAH’! Why start now? Not like you did any real work to win either of those belts. You beat an old man with plastic hips and a retiring Icon with no brain-cells. Anyone could do that. But you know what most can’t do, successfully defend their championship against….

For a moment he looks side to side then smiles a toothy grin and gestures to himself.

Johnny: ME!

Savior’s lungs hurt as he laughs, his sides literally splitting. He is so out of breathe he has to lean on Oleska just to keep himself upright. After wiping away a tear Christian finally replies.

Christian: That’s seriously why you interrupted me, Johnny? You just wanted to make a challenge you KNEW I wouldn’t accept? You can’t bait me into a title match, you can’t manipulate me, many have tried, all have failed.

I don’t give out title matches like candy on Halloween, and besides, you didn’t even win your number one contenders match. And as much as I don’t like the decision, Pat Evans IS the next challenger for the title, so that puts you at the back of the line. Just cherish what you already have Johnny, a match with me later tonight, which will be as close as you EVER get to my gold or fulfilling your feeble little promise.

Johnny lowers his head, devastated by this announcement. It leaves him so inconsolable he could weep if he had tear ducts.

Kingdom: Ouch Christian, why do you have to TRY and be so malicious? Notice I put a lot of emphasis on the word try. Of course I knew you wouldn’t accept my challenge without some INCENTIVE.

The manner in which he finished that sentence arouses concern in the Champion and his employers.

Johnny: I’m not an idiot Christian, I’m no Nathan Creed. Even a simian with an opposable thumb would know that I’d have an ace up my sleeve to ensure I get exactly what I want, what was taken from me at the last two pay-per-views. After all, I am an insistent son of a bitch…

Christian: You got part of that right.

Kingdom: Which is probably what drove me to such DRASTIC lengths here tonight. And that brings me to a question. Where’s your brother? How come he isn’t out there celebrating this moment with you?

Savior’s eyes widen and two sets of lips tremble as Mr. Drachewych and Douglas share in their champion’s fear.

Johnny: I heard through the grapevine that you couldn’t reach him on your phone all day. Boy I find that odd; I thought he would have wanted to be here to celebrate this milestone. I mean, it would take something really DRASTIC to keep Jason from ringside, so the fact that he isn’t out there seems odd.

Suddenly he snaps his fingers and perks up like he just took an entire bottle of Viagra.

Kingdom: But WAIT. I think I can alleviate your concern and lessen that bitter feeling rumbling in your tummy, because Jason IS here tonight, and he IS watching this momentous occasion.

Confusion doesn’t even have time to set in before Johnny stoops down, lowering the camera manually so that a bound and gagged Jason Wheeler comes into view. A sack is present over his head, but one could tell by his trademark wrestling attire that it is indeed the Black Cat.

Kingdom slips his arm over Jason’s limp body, patting him forcefully on his back while Christian foams at the mouth. Douglas and Drachewych have to physically restrain him from charging backstage.

Kingdom: SEE, no need to feel betrayed, because Jason’s right here live and in person. He wouldn’t miss this moment for ANYTHING! Although he probably would enjoy this more if he were out there with you. But something just seems to be holding him back, maybe he doesn’t want to overshadow you like he’s done all his life. Hmmm, I wonder how we can reunite you two, what would make Jason spring out of his seat and rush down that ramp? I wonder, I wonder.

He taps his nail to his teeth then snaps his fingers excitedly.

Johnny: By George I think I’ve got it. I bet he would come out there, and not worry about overshadowing your moment, if you were to put that Championship on the line tonight. Yeah, I think that would force him to come to the ring and root you on. So what do you say Christian, you want to alleviate your brother’s concern? Do you two want to be together again?

Wheeler’s unconscious body is shaken by Kingdom. All the while Christian watches with increasingly hostile eyes, his jaw lowered to his chest and his neck sunken into his shoulders. His eyebrows twitch uncontrollably as he lifts the microphone to his lips and shouts through clinched teeth.

Christian: FINE!

The fans roar with approval and Kingdom nods gleefully.

Savior: You’ve got your World Title shot tonight.

Christian almost throws up in his mouth upon making this statement. Drachewych and Douglas are unanimous in their disapproval of this decision but their concerned words fall on deaf ears.

Kingdom: Excellent. I’m sure your brother will be APPRECIATIVE of your decision. You’ll see him again in an hour, after you’ve defended your belt against me. Best start getting ready, TA-TA.

Jason’s limp arm is raised by the Team Leader and his hand is forced to wave goodbye to Savior, the camera cutting out. Savior is left to imagine what is happening backstage as he slowly comes undone in the center of the ring, surrounding by a sea of fans cackling at his expense. He shivers uncontrollably while Dan goes in to pat him on the shoulder only to have his arms brushed away by the Champion.

Mark: What a start to Riot! Christian Savior’s ceremony derailed by Johnny Kingdom’s revelation that he abducted Wheeler! And now Christian has had his own tactics used against him to force a title match.

Susie: I hope this don’t end up like that whole Limburgh Cheese baby situation.

Comeau: World Title on the line TONIGHT.

Christian continues to move away from the presidents who are only trying to comfort him, his mind completely unstable over all that it’s been forced to deal with. The fans stand in excitement over the impromptu championship match scheduled for later this evening.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Relive Six Years of Independence

MAX CRAVEN & NATHAN CREED
VS.
JACKSON ADAMS & PAT EVANS

The show returns live to the interior of the Manhattan Center where the fans are still reeling over the announcement they were just privy to moments ago.

Comeau: Well, umm, welcome back, hahaha…

Moore: What’s so funny? My face doesn’t look like a glazed donut again does it?

Mark: Uh, that’s not funny, just disgusting. I’m still in a state of shock over how we commenced tonight’s telecast. Savior’s World Title celebration didn’t go as planned, and I’m just going to assume he’ll place the blame for that on Douglas.

Susie: Douglas is bald, they can be blamed for everything.

Mark: Regardless we’ve now got a World Championship match tonight, Savior forced to defend his gold against Johnny Kingdom. And I’m sure a few men in the impending match are going to have something to say about that.

“Pain” by Three Days Grace erupts from the loud speakers and sends the crowd into a somewhat subdued reception. They clearly don’t know how to respond to the Future after his actions on the last Riot! However, when the crowd locks their eyes on Creed their reaction intensifies. Nathan moves to the stage with a pep in his step, despite last week’s altercation with the Team Leader, he looks more enthused than ever, FINALLY getting his hands on Evans in a legal capacity so that he can unleash illegal levels of violence upon him.

Comeau: Creed not letting this mixed reaction sway his drive to brutalize Evans here tonight. Boy oh boy how we’ve been waiting to see those two lock up ever since Destiny.

Moore: Actually, I want to see a Chamber of Horrors match between Burt and Ernie. Talk about RATINGS!

Creed looms on the stage for several moments, relishing in the calm before the storm. Unfortunately for him the storm comes early as he’s blindsided from behind by his rival Evans, and his long time nemesis Jackson Adams.

Mark: WAIT!

Moore: Sorry, I didn’t realize my hand got so close to your vagina.

Before Nathan realizes it he’s on the ground being overcome with a series of stomps from a vengeful Evans and a snickering Adams. Obviously both men elicit a great deal of joy over this sickening from behind assault. Evans even goes as far as to bend over Creed, snatching him by the hair and flashing his pearly whites right into his adversaries face. He grins their foreheads together while making his promise.

Evans: Get use to this feeling Creed, this helplessness. The longer you test me the more…

An uppercut from Creed shuts his mouth, LITERALLY. Pat steps back gripping at his jaw while the recently unmasked vigilante moves in to take up the slack. To his dismay he walks right into a knife edge chop across the chest, Creed shockingly prevailing against the odds.

Comeau: Look at this, Creed is fighting off both of his rivals! You can just see the fire in his eyes.

Moore: I have a burning sensation too, but it’s not in my eyes, it’s in my…

Mark: I think we all know where it is, Susie.

Creed again chops the increasingly red sternum of Adams, briefly preoccupied with his age old grudge against a timeless rival. This distraction leaves him unaware that Evans has reached into his shorts and pulled out a steel pipe, the very weapon that decimated Kingdom last week.

This time though, it’s Nathan who gets a taste of his own weapon, being bashed right between the eyes with the pipe. Creed’s body hits the stage like a ton of bricks, left strewn across the steel, eyes fluttering.

Comeau: HEEEY! Evans just used that…steel pipe….on Creed. It’s ironic he uses the same weapon Nathan decimated Kingdom with last week. Or is it?

Moore: Don’t ask me, I just pretend to work here.

Nathan is rendered unresponsive, referees rushing out to create a wall between his body and the vultures circling above him. Adams threatens one of these officials before grabbing Stuart Wright by his zebra striped shirt and dragging him towards the ring. A stoic expression inhabits Evans’ face, slowly backing down the ramp.

Max Craven has now joined in with the EMTs and security personal who have gathered around Creed. He bends down checking on Creed’s condition, who’s eyes flicker as he tries to regain his consciousness.

Comeau: Max was scheduled to team up with Creed here this evening, but it looks like that’s not going to happen at this point.

Moore: I volunteer to be his replacement partner, as long as I don’t have to do anything.

Mark: You can accomplish that sitting at ringside, Susie.

Clearly the X-Class Champion is concerned, both with Creed’s well being, and rather or not he’s still expected to compete. He answers one of those questions upon looking at the ring where Adams is standing on the middle rope grinning maliciously and tapping a metaphorical watch. He insinuates that the time has come for their match.

All the while Evans is shaking Wright about by his shirt and pointing to the time keeper, demanding he call for the bell. It’s at this point that Max has seen enough, stepping past his battered partner and throwing down his belt on the ramp.

Comeau: It looks like Max is going to take up the fight for his partner, but he’s willingly stepping into a TWO on ONE predicament.

Moore: I walk into that same situation every night.

Max slides into the ring and immediately jumps to his feet where Adams is right on top of him. He throws a wild haymaker that Craven ducks, sending Adams spinning around into a hard pele kick to his cranium. Jackson is knocked to the ring, where he rolls around in a state of shock and anguish.

Craven now nips up to his feet right as Pat charges up behind him looking for a lariat to the back of his head. The Champion ducks forward, avoiding the blow and causing Evans to turn into a jumping corkscrew kick that nails him between the eyes.

The Manhattan Center erupts over these devastating kicks from Craven, who despite the numbers game being against him is surprisingly holding his own.

Mark: Look at Max go, he’s actually OVERCOMING this duo in what I now suspect is a handicap match.

A struggling Pat rolls across the canvas face submerged behind the palms of his hands. All the while Adams has begun to stand up with his back pressed to the turnbuckle, arms falling over the cables to maintain his upright balance.

Craven comes barreling towards him at this point and delivers a jumping knee strike directly to his jaw. In the diagonal corner Evans is ascending to his feet, fighting to keep his legs beneath him. Once Max realizes this he drops to his feet and bolts across the ring before committing to a cartwheel which he flips out of into a huge back elbow.

Pat covers his chest with both arms, doubled over by the impact while Craven places him in a side headlock. He rushes forward, dragging Evans along behind him right as Adams is staggering out of the corner. That’s when Craven lunges into the air, wrapping his legs around Jackson’s neck and falling sideways, connecting with a head scissors as well as a headlock take over on Evans.

Comeau: I can’t believe this, Max is just unloading on his rivals.

Susie: Well, looks like he doesn’t need me after all, and here I was putting on my pads.

Mark: Those are Tampax, Susie.

Craven has got both of his opponents discombobulated, Adams and Evans rolling instinctively to their feet. They end up side by side, propped against one another for support as Max comes barreling towards them yet again. That’s when he’s caught by the legs and double flapped face first into the turnbuckle behind their backs.

A stunned Max bounces chin first from the corner and then staggers back into the waiting arms of Adams, who connects with a layout reverse DDT. The back of Craven’s cranium slams against the ring, sending him popping back to his seat. Jackson snatches him by the hair, holding his head in place while Evans bounces from the ropes in front of his opponent, charging in with a running knee strike.

The knee catches Max right across the bridge of his nose, leaving him almost as comatose as Creed. Nathan is still being attended to by the EMTs while his partner suffers from the two on one advantage.

Mark: There’s only so long one man can tolerate two opponents at once.

Susie: You would think that Max be use to these kinky situations.

Craven’s eyes flutter, trying to hang onto his last shreds of consciousness while Adams falls into the lateral press.

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2

To his dismay Max kicks out, shoulder launching valiantly from the canvas. Anger takes hold of Adams, grabbing the man who unmasked him under the jaw and leading him up to his feet. A Euro uppercut is hurdled into Craven’s jaw, knocking him backwards into the ropes.

Evans has now stepped to the center of the ring, shouting instructions to his partner. A smirking Adams whips Craven right at Pat who catches his inbound opponent with a tilt a whirl into the back breaker. Craven is doubled over the knee of his rival then pulled back up to his feet and taken by the wrist.

Craven is whipped right at Jackson who delivers a spinning heel kick that knocks him to the canvas.

Comeau: Adams and Evans are in firm control of this encounter at this point.

A stunned Max remains laid out on the canvas, convulsing like a fish plucked from water. Pat now steps in and extends his leg, dropping it right across Craven’s throat then rolling out of the way. He exits Adams’ path as Jackson jumps into the air and comes down knee first into his adversary’s forehead.

Max palms his forehead and rolls to the center of the ring where he’s pulled up to his knees and chopped forcefully across the sternum by Evans. The stiff impact knocks Max to his back where Pat quickly falls into the lateral press.

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2

Craven kicks out, getting his shoulder up in the nick of time. An irritated Evans slips around behind Craven and grabs his arms, placing them in a full nelson.

Max’s chin is almost pushed down to his sternum, placing a great deal of torque on his body. All the while Adams is stomping away at Craven’s entirely prone body, inflicting as much damage as humanly conceivable.

Mark: Max really needs some help in there, this is just too much for anyone to handle.

Susie: Not Chuck Norris.

Comeau: Okay, fine, I stand corrected.

The stomps continue, inflicting a great deal of damage to Max’s prone body. After the stomps have concluded, Evans drags Max up to his feet still trapped in the full nelson, spins him around and snapmares him over onto the canvas. The moment Max lands on his seat, Evans delivers a punt like kick directly to the small of his back.

Craven arches his spine, balling up his fists and crying out in anguish.

It’s Jackson’s turn to pull him back down to the canvas and mount his chest, beginning to rifle off a series of right hands. Evans grabs Max’s wrists and pins his arms to the canvas, once again leaving the X-Class Champion defenseless as he’s jabbed again and again right between the eyes.

Jackson now goes as far as to engulf Max’s throat with both hands, strangling the life from his body. It takes all of Wright’s strength to physically pry Adams off of the Champion.

Comeau: These two breaking every rule in the book to get the advantage.

Moore: I’m going to have to read this rule book one day, as long as it mostly consists of pop ups, and Where’s Waldo searches.

The moment he’s pulled off of Craven, Jackson casts the official aside and grabs Max’s legs, lifting them into the air. He spreads them apart and stomps down right into Max’s pelvis, his boot getting dangerously close to Craven’s money maker.

He now grinds his boot back and forth against Craven’s junk while Evans places Max in a side headlock, delivering repeated right hands to his forehead.

Comeau: Come on Wright, you’ve got to put a stop to this!

Moore: Shake this can full of pennies behind their backs, it’ll get them to stop AND scare the hell out of them.

The Manhattan fans chant Craven’s name in vain, their hometown hero clearly subdued by his rivals. Wright is forced to start a DOUBLE five count on Evans and Adams, reaching four and finally forcing them to stop their cheating. Adams keeps hold of one ankle while Evans moves around and grabs the other leg of their opponent. They now pull them apart like they were a wishbone, causing Max to sit up reaching for his stretched pelvic region.

Pat bends down beside Max, whispering into his ear as he writhes on the canvas.

Evans: Wish you had taken up Douglas on his offer now? Huh? Huh?

A blatantly closed fist bashes Max to the forehead and sends him to his back. This leaves him in perfect position for Evans, who takes the ankle of his opposition yet again and lifts up on it this time. The lift sends Max rolling backwards right into the waiting arms of Jackson

Adams hooks up both of Max’s arms and turns him around into the unprettier position, slowly turning in circles until he finds himself facing Evans. His partner gives him the thumbs up as Jackson drops into the unprettier predicament. However, Max was able to squirm free at the last second, causing Adams to land on his rump and hard.

He rolls to his elbows and knees while Max rushes at him, stepping off his back and launching himself at Evans, catching him around the neck with his legs. An astonished Pat is flipped over into the hurricarana, being sent plummeting to the ring.

Comeau: An unbelievable display of pure agility by Craven.

Moore: This is great, all we need now is the smell of Elephant dung and it’ll be like a circus.

Evans rolls across the canvas while Max struggles to his feet, doubled over and reaching for his battered body. That’s when Adams comes charging in, looking for a lariat. Craven ducks it, hooks Jackson’s arm, pulls him around and takes him by the neck.

Adams is swung around into position for the reverse neckbreaker. Craven drops to his back and connects with his variant of the hangman neckbreaker.

The back of Jackson’s head slams forcefully against the canvas, causing him to sit up and look like he’s been drugged. The adrenaline is flowing through Max’s body yet again as he rises right back to his feet only to almost be beheaded by a powerful lariat from Evans.

The clothesline connects with enough force to send both men down to the canvas, Evans landing on his knees beside his near unconscious opponent.

Mark: So much for that offensive comeback by Craven.

While the physicality progresses in the ring, only a few eyes stray to the entry way where Nathan is being assisted to his feet by EMTs. Although Nathan has the appearance of a man who just drank twice his body weight in whiskey, he still possesses the strength to shove the EMTs aside.

They look at him in perplexity as he fights his way out of the circle of concerned road agents and medical technicians, staggering down the ramp.

Comeau: Uhhh, what are you doing Creed? Think before you leap.

Moore: That doesn’t sound fun, I say jump and pay the hospital bills later.

Those in attendance are screaming as Creed continues down the ramp, all hunched over, nearly loosing his balance several times. Evans and Adams have recovered long enough to lay into the prone Craven with stomps, unaware that Creed is sliding into the ring.

Finally Pat spots him from the corner of his eye, charging at him only to be laid out with a thunderous knife edge chop. Jackson now rushes in and receives the same treatment, the chop blistering his sternum. Adams crumbles to the canvas while Pat pops back up to his feet and receives a chop to the chest from his bitter rival, knocking him to the ring.

Comeau: Creed is actually in there and he is lighting up his opponents with those chops!

The Manhattan Center is going wild as Adams pops back up like a Bobo doll only to have his chest ripped apart by the swinging hand of the Future. The chop sends Jackson staggering backwards into the ropes and spilling through them, forced to listen to the “woos” of the crowd.

A hailstorm of “woos” bombard the ring as Nathan hits chop after chop to a rising Evans, sending him reeling towards a corner. He falls against it as Creed continues to hit the chops with murderous intensity.

Susie: Why is everyone yelling “woo,” we’re not going to be forced to watch that horrible Jada Pinket Smith movie are we?

Mark: These fans coming to life just like Nathan, who is just decimating Evans with those chops.

Jackson struggles to his feet, wanting to come to his partner’s aid only to have Max flip over the ropes above him and crash down back first against his shoulder. Both men tumble to the mats with the crowd screaming passionately.

It’s up to Pat to avail himself of his predicament, reaching out and poking Creed right in the eye. The jab sends Nathan spinning towards the center of the ring, grabbing at his damaged pupil. Pat swipes his blood red chest and turns his anger into raw intensity, rushing right at Nathan and going for a thrust kick.

Creed spins around at the last second and catches Pat’s inbound foot, pushing it down to the canvas and turning Evans’ back towards him. He clamps him around the waist and snaps back into the German suplex. Pat crashes right across the back of his head before Nathan swings his hips and rolls to his feet.

Pat is dragged along for the ride as Creed tries for a second German but doesn’t have the strength to hit it, suddenly becoming too light headed to pull off of the move. Evans back elbows Nathan to the temple for good measure, causing his arms to fall to his side and his body to limp backwards.

Now Evans spins around, boots Creed to the ribs and drags his head under his seat. The fans explode as Evans lifts Creed up into position for the Inside Out (Crucifix Bomb). Before he can hit the move Craven rushes into the fray, grabs Creed by the ankle and drags him down out of position for the modified powerbomb.

Comeau: Max saving his partner from near disaster.

Evans spins around right into a step up enzugari to the back of his head from Craven. The impact sends Pat staggering forward right into the arms of Creed who sweeps the legs out from under him.

Pat crashes onto his back and Creed works up the strength to roll him to his stomach, applying his modified sharpshooter to a riotous reaction from the crowd.

Mark: Against the Odds locked in! Is Creed going to force Evans to tap out?

Susie: It would give me the chance to break out my pink kazoo, so he had better win.

Pat writhes on the canvas, sliding back and forth desperately trying to free himself from this predicament while Craven keeps any interlopers at bay. The X-Class Champion now turns to spot Adams climbing up to the apron with that dreaded steel pipe in hand.

The Spectacular Adams begins to slide through the ropes still holding the foreign weapon when Max charges in, delivering a front dropkick right to the side of Jackson’s body. The impact knocks him back to the outside of the ring, dropping the weapon on the canvas.

Craven rolls out and goes after Jackson while inside of the ring Creed looks up to spot the weapon used against him earlier. This prompts him to break the submission, causing Evans to roll around gripping at his kidneys and gripping from the pain.

Before the official can remove the steel pipe, Nathan snatches it up in his hands and stares at his reflection in the chrome steel. Intensity brims in his eyes as they turn towards a recovering Evans. Pat has pulled himself to his seat with the use of the cables, propped up on his seat.

For the first time in his IWC career, fear inhabits Evans’ eyes, his palms raising as Creed begins to approach with the pipe clutched tightly in hand.

Comeau: I think retribution is in order. Pat had better be pleading for his life if he knows what’s good for him.

Susie: Then shouldn’t he NOT be pleading for his life?

The fans are absolutely rabid with the desire to see Creed cave Evans’ skull in. Pat holds his hands in prayer, begging Creed not to do it, but no amount pleading will stop his vengeful rival. Nathan lifts the pipe above his head, moments from destroying his opponent when Wright springs into action.

The official grabs the pipe and tries to fight it out of Creed’s hands, forcing Nathan to spin around wide eyed and furious.

Mark: I know your only doing your job Wright, but you probably just made the biggest mistake of your life.

Evans capitalizes on this distraction by high tailing it, the number one contender rolling to the outside of the ring and promptly abandoning the match. He flees up the ramp, waving off the fans and the boos in the process. It’s at this point that Nathan pie faces Wright and shoves him down to the canvas.

He turns still clutching the pipe and slides through the ropes to the apron. Although a bit wobbly he gives pursuit to Evans, eyes fiery with passion.

Comeau: Evans getting out of here and doing so quickly, which is probably the smartest course of action.

Susie: Then that would mean he and I have something in common, we always do what’s smart.

Mark: Erm, yeah.

Outside of the ring Craven has slammed Adams off of the announce table, his face cracking against the wood. Jackson bounces off and stumbles around to the time keeper and ring announcer, stooping over Kailey and snatching something out of her palms.

Max doesn’t realize this until he walks right into a shot from his own X-Class title belt. But wait, Craven ducked the shot, causing Adams to spin around and receive a number of vicious rights to the teeth. The blows almost knock lose a few chitlets, sending him staggering towards the ring with the belt still in hand

Finally he ends up rolling into the squared circle, all discombobulated as Craven slips in after him. Jackson is still holding onto the belt though, twisting at this point and swinging the gold right at Max’s skull a second time. This time Craven drops into a baseball slide under the championship. He now lunges to his feet, hooks both of Jackson’s arms from behind him and hoists him into the air.

Comeau: Wait a minute, Craven’s got Jackson up in the air!

The crowd erupts as Craven nails his version of the Vertibreaker. Adams is dropped right across the back of his neck, rendering him almost unconscious. He bounces from the canvas and flops around on the ring, his neck possibly shattered by the landing.

Moore: HOTCHY MOTCHY!

Comeau: Craven hit it!

Max slides into the cover, hooking both of Jackson’s legs for the pin.

1

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3

The crowd is going nuts, Max victorious in this grueling tag team encounter.

Mark: And Max is victorious, despite having no partner in this match for the majority he still picks up the win and gets some revenge against Adams. What a sensational performance from Craven here tonight.

Moore: Not as great as Susan Boyle’s performance.

Comeau: Um, yeah, okay, sure.

Max sluggishly gets to his feet, arms raised in celebration after this grueling encounter. A recovering Adams grips at his neck in pain yet luckily rolls right on top of the X-Class Title belt. Max steps towards the ropes, pointing over them to the screaming fans, having no idea that Jackson is crawling up behind him until it’s too late. A low blow nails him well south of the border.

Comeau: Oh what is this now? Can’t anyone celebrate a victory around here?

Moore: Why celebrate if there’s not even going to be balloons or a clown?

The bell is chiming in the background, official Wright trying to inform Jackson that the match is over. Adams could care less as he takes the X-Class title into his palms, Max crouching before him. He stretches it out between his arms and kneels, waiting anxiously for Max to regain his bearings and get back to his feet.

Mark: He’s going to hit him with the title.

Susie: I hope this doesn’t give Max brain damage, if it does it probably would end with Craven winning an Oscar.

Craven is all shaken up, his testicular region enflamed with pain, yet somehow he starts to get up. Adams lays in wait, licking his lips, almost salivating. Suddenly his attention is taken off Craven and shifted to the intruding Disco Ninja. The crowd reacts with a loud reception at the sight of Disco sliding into the ring adorned in a flashy silver tuxedo.

Comeau: Do you see this?

Moore: Yes, it’s a SPACE MONKEY!

Mark: Actually that’s Disco Ninja, in a tux strangely enough.

Adams rushes at Disco, swinging the title belt right at his skull. Somehow the crafty Ninja has the wherewithal to duck the inbound belt. A furious Adams spins around and walks right into a diving twisting shoulder block to his chest. The collision sends Jackson reeling into the ropes and spilling through them where he almost lands on his head.

Comeau: Disco took Adams out!! He just saved Craven.

Susie: Maybe his silver tux gives him super powers.

Mark: I think that has more to do with the Robin Brooks, Hurse wedding than conjuring forth any powers. This isn’t a horrible Jackie Chan movie after all.

The crowd is still pumped as Jackson gets to his feet outside of the ring, gripping at his shoulder and spouting off insults. He is almost frothing at the mouth as he backs up the ramp, his skin a bright shade of red. He faces the indignity of watching Disco assist Craven up to his feet, aiding the X-Class Champion to a standing base.

Max stares cautiously at Disco, unsure of his motives. Once Craven is stable, the Ninja backs away from him, palms thrust towards his associate. Uncertainty is clear in Craven’s eyes before Disco Ninja thrusts out his hip and points to the ceiling. The lights die down and a disco ball sends little spots of illumination circling around the ring. “The Hustle” hits the PA system while Craven watches on in confusion, still groggy from the title shot to his skull.

Mark: What is this now?

Disco begins to boogey, stepping forward and back, slapping his palms together and doing the lawnmower with his arms. After several moments Craven finally shrugs and winks towards the audience, jumping to the Ninja’s side and beginning to do the hustle as well.

Craven and Disco Ninja are in perfect synchronism as they stop beside one another and clap several times. The Manhattan Center is going nuts at the sight of Disco and Craven cutting loose, the two really getting down.

Moore: OH MY GOD! Their dancing, and nobody told me!

Comeau: Craven and Disco Ninja busting out the Hustle. Celebrating on this very special night, where Kingdom will not only challenge for the title, but Robin and Hurse will tie the knot.

The dancing continues with the crowd cheering them on.

LORD OF THE DANCE

The camera shifts to the backstage area while the tunes of the Beegees continue to play in the background. An enraged Jackson Adams is storming towards the gorilla position, his back facing the lens as he moves down the entrance tunnel. If he were a pot he would be steaming, if he were bacon he be sizzling, Adams’ shoulders tense and the hue of his skin red.

Michelle: Hey Jacky….

Just when Adams thought he couldn’t get angrier the sound of Blacker’s voice and the mispronunciation of his name brings him to the pinnacle of his rage. Michelle’s pale face comes into view, her black leather ensemble squeaking as she approaches Jackson, who has yet to turn to acknowledge her.

Blacker: It sounds like your missing out on all the fun.

She sticks a finger in her ear, the lyrics of the Beegees echoing loudly throughout the backstage area. It’s this insinuation that finally gets Adams to turn, his lower lip protruded like an ape.

Adams: Fun, fun? Do you think its fun to make a complete ASS of yourself? Because that’s all Craven, Disco Ninja, and YOU are doing.

Michelle: Well with all do respect, I think YOU were the only one made to look like an ass tonight.

If only there were words to express Jackson’s anger, instead he gazes at Michelle’s mascara drenched eyes dumfounded.

Jackson: How DARE you come out of your coffin to pass judgment on me. At least I don’t STALK the entry way trying to ambush people with my annoying questions.

Blacker: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. I was just making an observation, that doesn’t mean I don’t like you. You still got that mask right?

Jackson’s eyes flutter awkwardly while a disgusting twinkle inhabits Michelle’s pupils.

Michelle: I thought if you still had the mask, we could maybe, I don’t know….

Adams: You make me SICK!

Although she lowers her head, Michelle does enjoy being scolded.

Jackson: Where the hell is Billy? His infatuation with me is far less creepy.

Before an answer can be given the unstable Adams cuts her off.

Adams: You know what? FORGET IT! Not important. You were right about something surprisingly, and that IS what’s important.

As Jackson’s adrenaline races his eyes transfer to the camera.

Jackson: Disco Ninja, Max Craven, you two have tried to make an ass out of me, but I’m no joke, and I refuse to be treated as such. The only fools around here are you two, and I’m gonna prove that next week. Disco, Max, prepare to be dissed, because I’m challenging you BOTH to a…..dance off. Suck on that!

The crowd reacts vilely to the manner in which Adams made his challenge, but are amused by the actual nature of it.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Never play with grenades

DISCO NINJA VS. JUSTIN DAVIS

Some lyrics provided by Earth, Wind & Fire are now streaming through the speaker system while Disco Ninja is STILL strutting his stuff in the ring. Although his dance partner, Max, is no longer alongside him, Disco continues to boogey unimpeded.

Moore: Welcome back to Dance, Dance Revolution.

Comeau: Actually this is Riot!, and Dance, Dance Revolution is a video game, not a television show. As you can see Disco Ninja still cutting loose on this all important evening of celebration.

Disco Ninja is now pointing to the crowd, turning in circles and getting them to do the wave. This fun loving moment provided by the oddly dressed Disco Ninja is shattered by the lyrics of Soulfire by 12 Stones.

Mark: The vibe has just been suffocated, dismembered and buried under the floorboards.

Susie: Is that what that smell is?

It doesn’t take long for Justin Davis to emerge onto the stage, microphone gripped in hand.

Moore: Ooooh, that’s what that odor is.

The fans direct their anger at Davis through screams, but Disco can only use his eyes to show his rage. His pupils are narrowed on the man who cut short his dance.

Davis: You can’t be serious.

Justin hides his face behind his palm, shaking his head and rendered incapable of finishing his sentence. He raises his head with a wide grin, his arm gesturing to the ring.

Justin: This is what passes as entertainment around here?

Disco is now the one shaking his head, his fists wedged to his hips.

Davis: You’ve GOT to be joking. This is worse than that Youtube video where the gorilla passes out smelling its own shit. And you know, that’s just what this is, SHIT. In fact, if there was one word that could sum up the IWC, it would be SHIT.

Susie: Wait…how did Davis know that I got TOO excited by this dancing and kinda went number 2 on….

Mark: He’s not talking about that…

Justin: And yet people wonder why fans flock in mass to SCW after watching these little dance routines? Why they switch over to the home of REAL champions, REAL championships, and REAL wrestlers? It’s because the WRESTLERS in SCW don’t make a living whoring themselves out as entertainment at kid’s birthday parties. We’re actually passionate about WRESTLING.

Disco mocks Justin by flapping his hand in the manner of a running mouth.

Davis: Unlike yourself, Disco, wrestling isn’t just a side gig for us. We train and work our whole lives to perfect the art of wrestling, and that’s why I find it so insulting that my perfection is wasted on you. Is IWC trying to prove my point for me by throwing you out here as the sacrificial lamb? This is the best they could come up with?

A peeved Justin sighs and concludes airing his public grievances.

Justin: Oh well, I guess I’ll start making my point at your expense.

He points at Disco Ninja while overlooking the fans.

Davis: Ladies and gentlemen, if you want REAL entertainment, now is the time to tune in to the first ACTUAL wrestling match in IWC history.

Justin bolts straight down the ramp and towards Disco still adorned in his shinny tux.

Comeau: It’s about time, no more words, just ACTION.

Moore: Action Jackson. Best movie title ever. I miss you Carl Weathers.

Justin slides into the ring under the ropes and tries to catch Disco Ninja off guard. However, he walks right into a hard jab to the jaw that has him staggered. Disco now does the lawnmower with his arms, a finger point to the sky and finally lands another right under Davis’s jaw. Somehow Jason stands just long enough for his opponent to complete the same dance routine then deliver a knock out shot.

Davis collapses to the canvas and rolls across it towards the turnbuckle.

Mark: Clearly this isn’t going to be the squash that Justin thought it would be.

Moore: Squashes taste awful.

There is a shimmy to Disco’s hips as he moves towards Justin, flailing a finger around above his head. He reaches Justin and begins to pepper him under the jaw with right hands, before taking him around the back of the neck. A stunned Davis is charged out of the turnbuckle and dropped face first into the canvas with a running bulldog.

Davis’ skull slams against the canvas and his body rolls to the outside of the ring on instinct. The moment his feet touch the outside mats, Justin furiously slaps the apron and backs away from the ring. His anger only escalates the moment Disco nips up to his feet and once again starts to get down with his bad self.

Mark: That Disco Ninja possibly dancing his way to success once again.

Susie: It’s times like these that I’m thankful I wear a diaper.

Referee Princeton rushes down the ramp and slips into the ring, calling for the bell to officially get this contest underway. He now shouts at Davis to get in the ring but Justin barks right back at the official.

Justin: I’m not ready.

Despite Justin’s protest, the referee starts a ten count, ready to disqualify the SCW import. Justin now tries to re-enter the ring to prevent being DQed only to have Disco Ninja step in to cut him off. That’s just what Davis was counting on as he drops to the outside once again, reaches under the ropes and grabs Disco’s legs.

With one tug he pulls the Ninja’s legs out from under him, causing his opponent to collapse to his back. Justin quickly hops to the apron, grabs the top rope and pulls himself over into a slingshot elbow drop. The point of his elbow connects forcefully against Disco’s sternum, causing him to convulse in pain.

Comeau: Although I don’t like it, I have to commend Justin on his strategy.

Moore: And I have to commend him on his hair. It’s beautiful.

Disco Ninja covers his sternum but in vain, unable to protect himself from the rapid fire stomps delivered to his body. Justin now drops to Disco’s side and wedges his forearm against the eyes, grinding it back and forth. Disco Ninja kicks his legs from the pain, as the official steps in and starts a five count.

Just before he can be disqualified Justin pulls his arm back and raises his palms into the air, pleading innocence. As he makes this appeal he places his knee to Disco’s throat, choking the life out of him. It takes a moment for the referee to spot this cheating and once he does he’s quick to commence with another five count.

Once again Justin takes his knee away right before he can be disqualified. He now stands up, trying to explain his actions to the official, stepping towards him and purposely putting the heel of his boot on Disco’s eyes. He scrapes it across the Ninja’s pupils, causing the dancing superstar to writhe in pain.

Comeau: Is there not one cheat that this man will stoop to?

Susie: I wouldn’t want to play Hungry, Hungry Hippos with him, that’s for sure. Plus I keep accidentally swallowing those little balls.

Mark: I’m sure those aren’t the only little balls you’ve swallowed.

Disco continues to wedge his palms to his eyes as he struggles towards his feet. Unfortunately he can only reach his knees before Davis pounces on him like a shark after a surfer. He blasts the upper back of his adversary with a clubbing blow, causing Disco Ninja to almost crumble to the canvas once again.

The vicious Justin begins to lead Disco towards his feet when the Ninja catches him by the back of the head and drops to his knees, countering with a jaw breaker.

The hard impact of chin against skull sends the invader stumbling backwards. He swings his arms to remain upright when Disco does a head stand and flips forward into a lariat. The arm connects directly against Justin’s throat, knocking his legs out from under him.

Comeau: Disco Ninja answering back in a big way, turning the tide of this match.

A startled Justin rolls to his elbows and knees, struggling to reach his feet when Disco Ninja reaches inside of his tux and removes a handful of plastic weapons. He throws a toy Chinese star at Davis, the weapon bouncing off his skull and falling to the canvas.

He now begins to throw knifes as well, which crumble as they connect with Davis. Although these toy weapons inflict little pain, Justin still lifts his arms to protect his head. Finally Disco Ninja stops employing his weapons long enough to step in and hit a move that really does inflict damage.

A vicious buzzsaw kick almost snaps Davis’s sternum and knocks him to his back. He cradles his sternum as Disco bounces off of the ropes and drops into a forward roll, eventually flipping out if it into a big leg drop right across Justin’s throat.

Davis grabs at his jugular, coughing and wheezing for air as he sits up on the canvas. It’s at this point that Disco hops to his feet behind him and flips forward, catching the back of Justin’s head in the process. Davis’ cranium is snapped forward, his neck stretched violently.

Ninja rolls forward across the canvas to his feet, turns and lunges at the still seated Davis with a big front dropkick. Both boots nail him to the face, knocking Justin to his back as the hired gun rolls onto him with a lateral press.

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2

David launches his shoulder from the canvas, kicking out just before the three count.

Mark: I think Disco Ninja is showing that Davis is nothing more than ALL talk.

Susie: I think he’s showing that Davis is as weak as my colon.

Disco Ninja has obviously got Davis frazzled as the SCW competitor finds himself rolling into the cables, utilizing them as a support to guide himself to his knees. Disco moves in to continue pressing his advantage only to be grabbed by the belt of his silver tux and pulled forward into the ropes.

He flips forward and crashes HARD spine first across the outside mats. The impact causes him to arch his back and grit his teeth in unbearable pain, pain that Davis exacerbates via his continued beat-down. He slides to the outside and grabs Disco around the neck, leading him to his feet and then slamming his face off of the apron.

The hard portion of the ring is truly unforgiving on Disco’s face, causing him to stumble back into the waiting arms of his opposition. Justin charges him back at the ring and slides him in under the ropes before scaling to the apron.

The Ninja ends up spread across his spine on the canvas as Justin grabs the top rope and pulls himself over into another slingshot elbow. This time Disco gets his knees up, causing Davis to crash bicep first directly into them. A groan emanates from Davis while cheers emanate from the crowd.

Comeau: That move not paying off for Davis twice.

Moore: He peed in the well too much, or ran it dry, he did something to a well. I just hope he doesn’t get trapped in it, I don’t think my arms would be long enough to reach him. And who uses wells anymore?

Mark: Enough about the damn well!

Although his bicep is in trauma, Davis tries to struggle back to his feet. The moment he reaches an upright base, Disco Ninja is right there connecting with a big boot to his bicep. The impact sends Justin turning his back on Disco, who jumps into the air and goes for a back stabber.

He wedges his knees to Justin’s spine and grabs his shoulders to connect, but instead of hitting the move he finds himself the only one slamming against the ring. Once again his back connects forcefully against the canvas as Davis turns around, leans down into the back of Disco’s knees, folding up his body into a pinning predicament.

Princeton drops down to make the count while Justin puts his feet over the middle rope, gaining added leverage for the pinfall.

Comeau: He’s got his feet all over the ropes, who would have figured.

The ref’s hand slaps the canvas to screams from the crowd.

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Disco launches his shoulder from the ring just before the full three count could be made. A shocked Davis drops to his knees, in disbelief that an IWC competitor is giving him this much trouble.

However, just as Disco rolls backwards to his feet, still stooped forward, Davis lunges to his feet, catches his opponent around the neck and drops him with an evenflow DDT.

Disco Ninja stands on top of his head and tumbles to his back like a tree chopped down in the forest. He is completely sprawled across the canvas, his convulsions somewhat rhythmic.

Susie: Oh no, that Disco Ninja looks like a gorilla out of water, or is it a zebra? That doesn’t make any sense, why would a zebra come out of the water, it wouldn’t be able to breathe.

Mark: Disco Ninja debilitated by that devastating evenflow DDT from Davis.

Justin sits up on the canvas, breaking out into a sweat before he rolls to his knees, swipes his arms through the air and signals for yet ANOTHER DDT. He seemingly has things firmly in control as he approaches Disco, takes him around the neck, leads him up to his feet and sets for the move that will surely put the boogying ninja away.

Comeau: Disco about to be finished off with the…

Before Mark can finish his sentence, Disco Ninja hooks the back of Davis’ legs, lifts up on them and flips forward into a jackknife cover.

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3

The Manhattan Center erupts with cheers, absolutely shocked by this last second counter that led to a Disco Ninja victory.

Comeau: Wait, what the? Disco just rolled up Justin Davis, he pinned him, he pinned him!

Moore: Yay, now we can get back to what really matters, the dancing!

After shocking Davis with the roll up victory, Disco rolls to the outside of the ring where he once again, you guessed it, begins to boogey down. It doesn’t sit in on the shocked Davis that he’s been defeated until he’s forced to hear the lyrics of the Beejees playing through the PA system. He now sits in shock, mouth agape.

Mark: I think Justin put his foot in his mouth tonight.

Susie: I tried doing that once, but I tore my groin muscle.

Comeau: Interesting. But the good times continue to roll here tonight on Riot!, Disco Ninja picking up yet another win and dancing his way into success.

Disco Ninja dances up the ramp, leaving a still shocked Davis behind, who is shouting at the referee, swearing that he fixed the match.

EUPHORIA

Like a kitten lapping up a bowl of fresh milk, Psycho licks the sharpened tips of a fork. He elicits almost a euphoric feeling from the taste of cold steel, his mind racing with violent images of the pain he can inflict with his newest weapon of choice.

The dimly lit corridor in the deeper, darker recesses of the Manhattan Center provides the perfect backdrop for Psycho to hatch his insidious plots. So he sits in deep thought, contemplating the next course of action in his elaborate scheme to rid the IWC of the Conspiracy.

Erm, uhhh, hey there Psycho.

The scarred savage is almost so consumed with thoughts of a mangled Jason Wheeler, that he doesn’t even realize he’s being approached by David Freak and Aurora Rose. Once he catches a glimpse of them from the corner of his eye, his grip tightens on the fork.

David: Please, just give us five seconds, that’s all we’re asking.

Freak gently guides his wife behind his back, although Aurora is the last one who needs protecting. He becomes increasingly grateful that he wore a football helmet to this meeting once Psycho cackles.

Psycho: Five seconds? That would be awfully generous of me. Better make it three.

With outstretched palms David speaks.

Freak: Okay, that’s all gravy, Aurora and I just wanted….

Psycho: One.

David: Uh, what are you doing?

Psycho licks his smirking lips, almost salivating.

Psycho: I said you had three seconds, now don’t make me loose my count again.

There is renewed urgency behind David’s words.

Freak: Well we we we we wanted to tell you…

Psycho: Two.

David: We never intended for Riggs to get hurt. We only were trying to help.

His words are falling on deaf ears, Psycho beginning to stand up and continue where he left off last week.

Psycho: Thre…

Aurora: How can we make this right? Tell us how we can fix this.

This rushed statement from Aurora causes Psycho to hesitate if only for a moment. The smile on Psycho’s face fades as he slips back into his seat on bare concrete

Psycho: You can’t fix what you set into motion. You led my partner into a slaughter, and you sullied my reputation by claiming Wheeler made a better teammate than me.

Freak: I wasn’t implying that at all. You misconstr….

Psycho: SHUT UP!

An exaggerated gulp forms in David’s throat, grabbing the hand of his wife tightly. He now wishes that he had also invested in full body Kevlar.

Psycho: If you really want to show me your sorry there’s only one thing you can do.

David: ANYTHING.

Aurora: We just want to put this behind us.

A grin so chilling it would make Hannibal Lecter soil himself consumes one side of Psycho’s face.

Psycho: I bet you do.

Freak: So what do you want from us? Eye of a newt? Naked pictures of Susie Moore? What? Just tell us.

Psycho puts no thought into his demand.

Psycho: Bring me Jason Wheeler.

Both Aurora’s and David’s faces simultaneously go white.

David: And how are we supposed to do that?

Aurora: Wasn’t he kidnapped by Johnny Kingdom?

Psycho: Do you think I CARE? I told you to bring him to me, it doesn’t matter how, just do it!

The Freak’s exchange a glance and a deep breathe.

Rose: If we do this will….

Psycho: Maybe, but I’m not making any promises.

After making his statement Psycho goes back to salivating over the fork. A tentative David and Aurora back away, wondering how they’ll get their hands on the Cartel Champion.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Flair’s Greatest Moments

RICK-ROHL VS. PORNO LAD

The lyrics of “Original Prankster” brings the crowd out of its subdued state. They clamor behind the barrier, eyes wide and mouths agape as Porno Lad saunters to the stage, accompanied by his massive associate BFG. On this special occasion tuxedos adorn both men’s bodies. However, Porno Lad’s sleeves have been removed, showing off his guns and the N.H.B Championship wrapped around one of his biceps. BFG stoically follows his employer towards the ring.

Comeau: Porno Lad and BFG also dressed festively for tonight’s wedding, much like Disco Ninja a few moments ago.

Moore: I’m surprised they found a suit that could even fit BFG.

Mark: As am I. I think it’s pretty obvious at this point that Porno Lad has every intention of crashing Robin’s and Hurse’s wedding, unless Brooks’ hired muscle does something about it.

Porno Lad continues to strut around the ring, looking quite lavish on this special occasion. BFG watches on from the ringside area, cracking his knuckles and getting ready for any shenanigans that shall proceed.

Never gonna GIVE YOU UP, never gonna LET YOU DOWN
Never gonna RUN AROUND and DESERT YOU

Never gonna MAKE YOU CRY, never gonna SAY GOODBYE
Never gonna TELL A LIE and HURT YOU

"Never Give You Up" by Rick Astley hits as the freakishly tall and well-defined Rick Rohl gyrates out onto the stage in his tight black trunks and white collar-with-black bowtie, humping the air to the whoops and hollers of the women and the general laughter of the internet savvy. He is joined at the hip for once by Robin Brooks, who steps out to Rick-Rohl’s side decked out in her wedding dress. She puts her hand on Rohl’s shoulder and gestures with a bouquet of flowers towards the ring, insisting that he not only hurt, but maim Porno Lad.

Rick Rohl slowly begins to slip through the ropes and into the ring when Porno Lad charges up beside him, delivering repeated right hands. The fans are cheering him on, rallying behind each blow that connects with the almost three hundred pound competitor.

Comeau: Porno Lad jumping all over Rick-Rohl right here from the get go.

Moore: I’d jump on him too, only I’d have a lot of dollar bills in my hand.

Suddenly the wide palm of Rick-Rohl engulfs Porno Lad’s chest and shoves him backwards across the canvas. Porno Lad falls to his spine then rolls over completely to his feet. The moment he stands up though, Rick has charged in and nailed a shoulder block so powerful that it sends Porno flying through the air.

Lad finally crumbles to the canvas, rolling across it and towards the ropes. He holds his possibly shattered sternum and just reaches his feet when Rohl steps in and adds to the suffrage, delivering right hands to his jaw. The devastating jabs knock the Champion back first against the ropes, where his chest is blistered by a vicious knife edge chop.

Comeau: Rick-Rohl’s size advantage just TOO MUCH for Porno Lad.

Moore: He sure is a whole lotta man.

Mark: Susie, put your braw back on.

Rick-Rohl now takes Porno around the neck and effortlessly hoists him into the air for a vertical suplex. Robin watches on with a wide smile on her face, greatly enjoying this punishment. Right as he’s being lifted though, Porno Lad reaches back with his legs, wedging his feet to the top rope and pushing himself off. He reverses the front chancery and drags Rohl around into a tornado DDT.

Mark: What a COUNTER. It’s just what Porno Lad needed to get himself back into this confrontation.

Moore: I hope nothing happened to Rohl’s face, it’s so rugid and powerful. It’s just like my grandma’s knuckles.

Rohl sits on the canvas looking dazed as Porno Lad takes this precious few moments to recover. He now rises to his feet, thumping his fists against his chest and then winking in Robin’s direction. Brooks grinds her teeth at the sight of Porno Lad persevering despite the odds.

The N.H.B Champion now takes off into the ropes, bouncing off and coming back in at his opponent. Somehow Rick-Rohl stands up and catches Porno coming in, hoisting him high above his head with a gorilla press. The crowd barely has time to scream before Porno Lad is thrown over the ropes and comes crashing down right on top of BFG.

The arena explodes at the sight of the two collapsing against the mats.

Comeau: Rick-Rohl pitching Porno Lad right on top of BFG. That was some smart strategy from this big brawler, killing two birds with one stone.

Moore: I tried that once but it didn’t word, granted I was using a pebble.

Rick-Rohl turns to give a Chippendale’s style hip grind to the delight of a few sex crazed female viewers. Meanwhile, Porno Lad is trying to get off his plus sized head of security, standing up and staggering back first into the apron. That’s when Rohl reaches over the cables and grabs a fist full of hair.

With a display of raw strength he pulls Porno Lad by his lovely locks all the way up to the apron. A stunned Porno Lad ends up standing on the apron just long enough to be hooked under the arm and hip tossed over the ropes. PL flies across the ring and crashes across his back.

Mark: Rick-Rohl absolutely manhandling the IWC’s resident prankster.

Moore: I haven’t seen a man get treated this way since that late night prison movie I was watching.

It’s obvious that the former wedding planner is in a lot of pain, evident by his strong grasp on his lower back. Little time is afforded to him for recovery sakes because Rohl steps right in and takes hold of his throat with both palms. Porno Lad is hoisted off his knees to his feet then thrown across the ring spine first into the turnbuckle.

Robin watches on with malicious delight as Rick-Rohl gyrates to the center of the ring then comes barreling towards his prone opposition.

However, Porno Lad raises his knees into the air, intending to drive them directly into the inbound Rick-Rohl’s chest. To his shock though, Rohl catches him around the back of the knees and pulls him out of the corner, elevating him in the air.

PL’s knees are still pressed to Rohl’s sternum and he is almost seated on his opposition’s forearms. It’s at this point that the Risk Astley aficionado throws Porno Lad up into the air only for the prankster to extend his legs and fall right on his opponent’s shoulders.

Porno Lad falls back, going for the hurricarana only to have Rohl hold on, refusing to allow him to hit the move. With all his strength he pulls Porno Lad back up onto his shoulders and reaches up, taking him around the back of the neck. He now flips him over upside down onto his shoulder and hooks the back of the leg before falling back into a stunning muscle buster.

Porno’s entire body is folded up before springing from the canvas to his seat, his eyes glazed over.

Comeau: Just when it seemed that Porno Lad was getting himself back into this encounter he was shut down with that devastating muscle buster.

Rick-Rohl steps in and drops a big elbow directly into his opponent’s sternum. All his weight is put into the elbow drop as he now leans into PL’s chest, going for a lazy pin.

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Shockingly Porno Lad kicks out with a few moments to spare, prompting Rohl to rise to his feet, bounce off the ropes and connect with a running leg drop. His massive thigh lands right across Porno’s throat, causing him to convulse before his adversary rolls into the lateral press.

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2

Again Porno Lad gets his shoulder up, refusing to be bested on this all important night. Robin stews with discomfort at the sight of Porno kicking out of all Rohl’s offense.

Susie: Porno’s hanging in there like a dong from a horny horse’s body.

Mark: Clever, in an entirely disturbing kind of way.

Moore: No, disturbing would be telling you about the time I accidentally got in the way of one of those dongs. Let’s just say it changed my life FOREVER!

Rick-Rohl glances towards Brooks, who urgently waves her bouquet through the air, insisting he finish off his opponent. Rohl gets up and after a few more erotic gyrations he takes Porno by the hair, forces him to his feet then hoists him to his shoulder.

The crowd screams as Rick rushes across the canvas to deliver the snake eyes. It’s at this point that Porno Lad squirms free, slipping from the shoulder to his feet. He lands behind his opponent then charges straight at his back side. That’s when Rohl side steps him and catches Porno Lad under his arm for what at first appears to be a side slam, before flipping him up onto his shoulder.

He now rushes forward to complete the snake eyes only for Porno Lad to twist his body, catch Rick-Rohl around his neck, and drop him skull first into the ring with a DDT. The crowd erupts at the sight of this counter as the Chippendale’s dancer flops to his back, grabbing at his cranium, but Porno Lad is unable to capitalize with a pin.

Comeau: Another desperation DDT from the prankster. It’s just the move he needed though in order to keep this match going.

Moore: Hehehehe, Porno Lad knows as many moves as I do. But people don’t care if I know how to wrestle, because I have cleavage, and wear really skimpy costumes.

Comeau: Thanks again for epitomizing everything that’s wrong with wrestling.

The Manhattan Center fans are rallying behind Porno Lad, their cheers sounding like audible cancer to Robin’s ears. The applause becomes more deafening as Porno and Rohl struggle to their feet, the prankster lunging into the air with a dropkick. It connects and sends Rick-Rohl staggering in reverse, flailing his arms to keep himself upright.

That’s when Porno Lad lunges into another dropkick, both boots nailing the massive sternum of his opposition. Rick-Rohl is further unbalanced yet somehow keeps his footing, even as his opponent moves in with a series of chops and right hands.

The blows have Rohl disorientated as Porno bolts towards the ropes, going for the knock out blow. He bounces from the cables and comes back in at Rohl who shockingly counters with a spinning powerslam. Porno Lad is driven violently into the ring with Rick-Rohl on top hooking his leg.

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Again Porno Lad is forced to launch his shoulder from the ring, kicking out just before the three count.

Comeau: Rick-Rohl’s size and strength too much of a difference maker in this encounter.

Rick-Rohl sluggishly reaches his feet and drops a second big elbow. Porno convulses under the weight of his opposition as Rohl rises back to his feet, bounces off the cables and comes back in with a third elbow drop. This time it misses it’s mark entirely, the point driven into the canvas.

He sits up, cradling his arm across his chest and gritting his teeth from the pain.

It’s at this point that Porno Lad rushes up behind him and jumps on his back, wrapping his arms around his throat with a side headlock.

Porno Lad: Greatest submission EEEEEVEEER!

Just he makes this claim, Rick-Rohl rises to his feet and actually lifts Porno Lad up into the air as he hangs around his neck. Porno Lad alters the move into a sleeper as he drapes over the back of Rohl, the big man powering him backwards spine first into the turnbuckle.

Porno Lad won’t break the submission until Rohl drops to his knees and flips his opponent over his head. The stunned prankster drops into a forward roll across the canvas, ending up on his feet as Rick-Rohl comes barreling towards him. That’s when he runs right into a dropkick to the shin, knocking his legs out from under him and sending Rick collapsing forward to his elbows and knees.

It’s at this point Porno Lad rises to his feet, breathing heavily but still able to scream something to the audience.

Porno Lad: It’s time to get FLIPPY!

Porno goes rushing into the cables, preparing for some type of sensational, acrobatic, dazzling move involving a great deal of unnecessary flips.

Comeau: Prepare to be dazzled.

Moore: Is Porno Lad gonna put diamonds in his abs?

The crowd is excited as the N.H.B Champion charges at the kneeling Rick-Rohl and hops off of his feet only to be caught by the throat. Porno drops back to his feet as Rohl sets up for a chokeslam, slowly rising from his kneeling base.

A twinkle inhabits Robin’s eyes as she watches Porno Lad be grabbed by the back of his pants and hoisted into the chokeslam. But wait, no, he slips out of the palm and transitions around behind the arm, dropping back to his feet. He now reaches out and grabs the bowtie wrapped around Rohl’s neck, pulling back on it and choking the big man.

Moore: I guess this is why you never wear a tie while wrestling, no matter how sexy it is.

Rick-Rohl pivots his feet and gasps for air as Porno Lad continues to yank on the bowtie. He rears back on it with all his strength, Rohl’s face going almost blue as he falls knee first to the canvas. He’s unable to free himself from this predicament as Porno Lad wrenches violently on the tie, employing all of his strength.

Mark: This is a smart move by Porno Lad, he’s using that bowtie to strangle the fight out of his large opponent.

Robin is storming back and forth on the stage, shouting at the referee to do something. The official finally steps in starting a five count and forcing Porno to stop this illegal cheat. He steps back, palms raised aloft and insinuating that he was merely trying to tighten the tie for stylistic purposes.

The official isn’t buying it and Porno Lad doesn’t care as he rushes around Rick-Rohl and bolts straight into the ropes. He bounces off and comes back in at Rohl who lunges to his feet and goes for a big boot. Porno Lad drops into a baseball slide beneath the leg though before lunging to his feet and trying to gain the advantage.

He jumps into a corkscrew crossbody for God only knows what reason, only to have Rick-Rohl turn and catch him across his sternum. Rohl gyrates his hips as he prepares for a fall away slam, only to change it up at the last second, instead trying to push him around into a back breaker across his knee.

Somehow Porno Lad squirms free though, landing directly on his feet beside a stunned Rohl. Rick shakes off his astonishment and charges at Porno only to walk right into a jaw shattering Epic Fail. The spinning superkick meets its mark and destroys every braincell in Rohl’s head, leaving him standing there momentarily brain dead.

After a few moments he tumbles like a tree to the canvas and there are plenty of people around to both see and hear it.

Comeau: The EPIC FAIL!

Moore: How….epic…hehehehehe, did you get my play on words?

Mark: Ugh, yeeeeesss.

The Manhattan Center is shaking as Porno Lad jumps into the lateral press, hoping he did enough to quell the fight in the Astley loving Rohl.

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3!

Victory has been achieved.

Comeau: And the Epic Fail did the trick. Porno Lad victorious over Rick-Rohl.

Robin can’t accept what she’s seeing, grabbing at her hair in a despondent state. Tears well up in her eyes as she realizes that her plans have back fired, that Porno Lad has been left standing, that he still has the chance to trifle in her marital affairs. Although aching from the difficulty of this challenge, Porno Lad is able to force himself to his feet and approach the ropes.

Comeau: Things already not going as planned for the Black Widow, Porno Lad overcame Rick-Rohl, meaning he may still make an appearance at her wedding.

Moore: I hope he’ll be the wedding singer. I love that movie.

He falls against the ropes for support, stabilizing himself just long enough to eye Robin on the stage. The controversial Porno Lad now winks in her direction and begins to fix his bowtie. He even goes as far as to brush off his shoulders, making sure his tux looks perfect for the wedding.

Robin’s lips quiver with anger, almost holding back vomit. BFG enters the ring at this point still holding his sternum, but stepping in to hold up his employer. He now waves in Robin’s direction, further inciting her anger as she backs with a shaking head towards the curtains.

She almost doesn’t notice that Katelyn Buehler is standing behind her back adorned in the most obnoxious, disgusting lime green dress conceivable. As soon as Brooks takes notice of her, Katelyn reaches into a basket in her arms, grabbing flower petals and throwing them into the air. They scatter above Robin’s head and fall to the stage at her feet.

Moore: HEY! How come Katelyn gets to be the flower girl? I thought that was my job.

Comeau: Porno Lad and his associates continuing to rub it in here tonight.

Brooks is flabbergasted as she throws her arms up into the air then pushes Katelyn out of her way, storming through the curtains to the backstage area. Katelyn chases after her still throwing flower petals into the air while inside of the ring the celebration continues.

Porno Lad is hoisted up and onto the shoulders of BFG, lifting his N.H.B Championship high in the air. Rick-Rohl is forced to watch from the corner of the ring, unable to further intrude on Porno Lad’s elaborate plans.

Comeau: The celebration continuing on this historic night. Hopefully the good times keep rolling all the way into that World Title match here in just a few moments.

CONSPIRACY

Douglas: Just calm down, it’s not that bad.

The World Champion is almost offended by such a bold insinuation as he freezes in mid step.

Christian: Not that bad, NOT THAT BAD!?!

He turns to face Douglas’ desk, his palm slamming down on the surface.

Savior: My brother’s been kidnapped, my celebration’s ruined, I’m forced to defend my title against Johnny f’n Kingdom and your telling me it’s not that bad!?! You’ve been smoking some bad juju my friend.

All Pat Evans can do is sit in the corner of the office and try to mask his laughter. Even though this night has been equally as traumatic for him, he cannot help but to elicit some amusement from his partner’s dismay.

Dan: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to trivialize your…

Christian: Stop APOLOGIZING! If you really kept your promises you wouldn’t need to apologize to me every week.

Douglas: That’s not fair, I’ve been a man of my word since day one.

Savior: Oh really, hahahaha.

Savior briefly obscures his face behind his fingers.

Christian: That’s BULL and you know it.

Again he thumps his fist on the desk, prompting Evans to lose his smile and inch forward in his seat.

Christian: You’ve done nothing but lie to me. You promised I’d be the one to retire Orlando, and now it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen. You swore that tonight would be about appreciation, and now I’m defending my title against Johnny Kingdom.

Evans: Hey…

Evans finally steps in, not liking how close the unstable Savior is getting to Douglas.

Pat: How about you calm down.

Savior: And don’t even get me started on you.

Audaciously Savior digs his finger into Evans’ sternum, pushing him back a few steps.

Christian: You’re supposed to be nothing more than the dumb hired muscle, and now your getting a World title shot against me? How is that supposed to protect me and my title? How I ask, HOW!?!

Evans: Nobody said I was a bodyguard.

Savior: Apparently your not, because a bodyguard would have kept my brother from being kidnapped.

Douglas: There’s nothing anybody could have done…

Once again Savior finds himself offended, especially as Douglas is coming to Pat’s aid instead of backing him up.

Christian: Of course there was! If Pat wasn’t so damned focused on stealing my title, he would have had Jason’s back.

Pat closes his eyes and shakes his head, trying to keep his anger in check.

Savior: But maybe this is exactly what you wanted, Pat.

Now his eyes open, wondering what in the world Christian is insinuating.

Christian: Yeah, yeah, that’s it. You wanted me to put my title on the line against Johnny tonight. Uh-huh, I’m onto you. You were planning on me defending my belt then screwing me over.

Evans: Why the hell would I do that?

Savior: Because you realize that facing me for the title is a lost cause, so you wanted to put the belt on Kingdom, someone who you COULD beat.

Pat: Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds?

There’s obviously no reasoning with Christian, who continues to flip out.

Dan: This is getting out of hand!

Once again Dan tries to be the voice of reason as he rises from his chair.

Douglas: We need to work together to make sure you leave with that title tonight, Christian. So Pat and I will escort you to ringside and that way we can guarantee that Johnny doesn’t pull anything…

Christian: No. Heeeeellll no!

Dan is taken aback by this reaction, as is Evans.

Savior: That’s exactly what you two want. I see it now clear as day. You want Evans to come out there with me so he can “accidentally” cost me the championship.

Before either Evans or Douglas can repudiate these claims Savior continues with his paranoid rambling.

Christian: This has all been one big Conspiracy against me, but I’m not falling for it any longer. I’m going out there by MYSELF to defend the title against Kingdom, and I swear if I see either of you at ringside there will be hell to pay.

He speaks through gritting teeth before grabbing his World Title belt off Douglas’ desk and storming out of the dressing room. He leaves behind his associates who slowly turn towards one another. All Evans can do is shrug his shoulders.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Flair’s Greatest Moments Continued

ANTICIPATION

The show comes back live with a wide frame shot of the parking lot. The entrance ramp seems to be the primary focus, as light from a setting sun filters into the enclosed facility. Numerous cars are parked within, but none of them belong to the controversial individual the crowd waits in anticipation to see.

Mark: On a night that is shaping up to be the biggest in Riot! history, we find ourselves waiting for Dan Douglas’ former liaison, Sallie.

There is still no sight of her, the camera lingering anxiously.

Comeau: After her VERY controversial decision at Destiny, many have been left wanting answers. She stopped a number one contenders match to prevent Kingdom from possibly debilitating Orlando Cruze, and ever since then she’s been in seclusion.

Moore: Probably living in the mountains with that cult I use to be the overseer of.

Mark: Cult?

Susie: Technically they were sheep, but I chickened out of going over that cliff with them. I’m not a very good cult leader.

Comeau: Nor a humane person apparently. Will Sallie show up now that Douglas has threatened to fire her? Will we get some answers? We’ll cut in immediately should Sallie arrive here this evening.

The camera continues to watch but provides no images of the highly anticipated arrival of Sallie.

KATELYN BUEHLER VS. AURORA ROSE

The show returns live to the interior of the Manhattan Center where “Hollywood Whore” is playing through the loud speakers while Katelyn Buehler distributes flowers at ringside. She circles the ring throwing flower petals over her head and into the crowd to the joy of a rabid audience.

Comeau: And back at ringside you can see that Katelyn Buehler has not left since the conclusion of that last match, continuing to throw out these flower petals to the crowd.

Moore: I hope she doesn’t throw any my way. (pouts) I don’t want none.

Mark: Are you still upset that she stole your job as flower girl?

Susie: Yes, and she totally ripped off my dress design too. Everyone knows only I have the ankles to pull off that look.

Mark: Well she’s going to have to stop throwing flowers soon and start throwing fists, because she’s slated to go one on one with Aurora Rose up next.

Katelyn has now made her way into the ring, continuing to grab flowers from her basket and dispensing through them the air. That’s when her fun is cut short by the all too familiar lyrics of Aurora’s entrance theme. Once again the crowd cheers as Rose moves to the stage, kicks back her hair and lifts up a fist. She basks in the reception of the crowd, hopping in place then taking off down the ramp. Conspicuous by his absence is David Freak, presumably still trying to acquire the whereabouts of one Jason Wheeler.

Mark: Aurora looking fired up, she and her husband have the chance to finally put Psycho in their past once and for all after tonight. Although accomplishing that is easier said than done.

Susie: You make it sound like it’s easy to say anything. Have you ever tried saying Pseudoantidisestablishmentarianism. (Breathes)

Mark: Feel better now?

Moore: Much.

Comeau: Well let’s see if Aurora can keep Katelyn from securing her allusive first victory?

Rose slips through the ropes and once again raises a fist towards the heavens in your basic rock pose. After making this anti-authority gesture she proceeds towards Katelyn, extending her hand for a shake. Katelyn removes her high heeled shoes while blinking awkwardly.

A confused Beuhler stares down at the palm then to ringside, looking for advice from Porno Lad, but he’s nowhere to be found, also suspicious by his absence. Therefore Katelyn turns back towards Aurora, grabs the bottom of her basket and throws all the petals right into Rose’s face.

Comeau: No sign of honor here between Katelyn and Aurora, Buehler throwing those flowers right in Rose’s face.

Moore: Hopefully they’re not those type of flowers that put you to sleep. Then we’ll have to depend on that blasted Todo or Tinman to rescue us.

Mark: Wizard of Oz references? Great.

The bell chimes and the stunned Rose is too busy brushing flower petals off of her body to stop the inbound Katelyn. She boots Rose to the ribs and throws a sloppy right hand into her face. Aurora is stumbled by the moves before Katelyn takes her around the neck, applying a side headlock.

Katelyn: I saw this one on a wrestling show called Three Stooges.

She plants a knuckle to the top of Aurora’s skull and gives her a noogie to a loud reaction from the fans. Somehow Rose is able to squirm out of the poorly mastered hold and applies her own side headlock at this point. Instead of going for the tap out she chains this submission into her finishing move.

The fans have a mixed reaction as Aurora rushes Katelyn across the ring, about to deliver the Sinful Desires, Stratusfaction, only to be pushed off at the last second. Aurora is sent rushing into the ropes, bouncing off of them and coming back in at her opponent who lunges into a Lou Thez Press.

Unfortunately, Katelyn overshoots Rose a little and crashes forehead first into the canvas while her seat lands across Aurora’s sternum. Despite her botched Lou Thez Press, she sits up, shakes off the cobwebs and begins to rifle off right hands to Rose’s jaw.

The official steps in and starts a five count.

Mark: I really, really wish I could say that Katelyn was steadily showing signs of improvement, but I can’t.

Moore: We all can’t adapt to our jobs as quickly as I have.

Comeau: Erm yeah.

Katelyn stops punching and hikes up her bright lime green dress so that she can stand and put the boots to her opponent. Before she can stand though, Aurora reaches up with her legs and wraps them around the front of Beuhler’s shoulders. Aurora sits up on the canvas and pulls Katelyn down into a sunset flip variation.

1

Katelyn shockingly kicks out before two, flopping to her knees and looking proud of herself.

Mark: Katelyn Beuhler just barely avoiding defeat. I’m surprised she even knew that she was being pinned.

Moore: I thought Rose was trying to smell her butt.

Aurora gets to her feet much quicker than her opponent, her progress not impeded by an obnoxious dress. As both women reach their feet Rose promptly lays Katelyn out with a forearm strike. The shot knocks Buehler to her backside where she convulses like Shawn Michaels after taking a Hogan punch.

She sits up making sure that her teeth are still aligned while Rose dropkicks her between the shoulder blades. A long, piercing scream emits from Katelyn, both from the pain in her back and the realization that her hair has been messed up. She rolls to her elbows and knees, sluggishly attempting to get up when Aurora bounces off the cables at her side and lunges forward into a front dropkick.

Both boots nail the cheek and the temple of Katelyn, who is powerless to do anything about this onslaught without Porno Lad present to lend her his expertise.

Therefore she just rolls to her back, unconsciously feeling at her beehive style hairdo.

Comeau: Katelyn is just at Aurora’s mercy right now.

Susie: The least Rose can do is keep her hands off that hair. It looks like Katelyn spent hours doing it for tonight’s wedding.

Katelyn is sat up on the canvas at this point as Aurora grabs her by the shoulders and shoots a knee right into the small of her back. Once again Porno Lad’s ex lets out a harrowing scream before another knee lands right between her kidney area. Tears almost flow from her eyes, from the pain and the realization that her dress is getting wrinkled.

Rose now firmly wedges a knee to her lower back and pulls in reverse on her chin. The rear chinlock has got Katelyn in all kinds of trouble. Her arms flail desperately in a feeble attempt to free herself, but she has absolutely no idea how to get out of this hold.

Mark: Well this might be it right here right now, you need wrestling experience to know how to get out of holds.

Moore: Really, I thought the only thing you needed to be a wrestler were repeated appearances in Playboy.

Comeau: You’ve been in Playboy?

Susie: Yep, they always publish my letters.

Katelyn’s face is twisted from the pain as she twists from side to side, trying everything she can think of to get out of the hold. Aurora seems to be having some difficulty maintaining the submission, the odor given off by Beuhler’s hair almost causing her to faint. It’s at this point that the official steps in, asking Katelyn rather or not she wishes to submit.

Instead of giving up Beuhler reaches out and grabs the back of the referee’s head, dragging it down into her cleavage. She now shouts the words “I quit” prompting Aurora to break the hold and raise her arms in victory.

Comeau: Katelyn submitted. Aurora is victorious.

As Rose turns her back on her opposition she has no idea that the referee failed to hear Katelyn submit, his ears wedged between Buehler’s breasts.

Mark: Wait, I don’t think the referee could hear Katelyn quitting. I tell you what though, it’s times like these I wish I was an official.

Susie: This is brilliant. And to think, I spent all those years buying headphones and ear muffs when all I had to do to get some peace and quiet was put my head in Katelyn’s tits.

The official finally pulls his face out of the cleavage, unable to refrain from smiling. Aurora finally realizes she isn’t victorious when the bell fails to sound. It’s at this point that Katelyn pulls her over into the school boy.

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Rose kicks out to a loud series of screams from the crowd, who thought she was done for at this point.

Comeau: And Katelyn almost caught her!

A stunned Rose races towards her feet when Katelyn grabs her by the back of the head, rushes forward and delivers a one handed bulldog. Aurora’s face slams viciously against the canvas, her body flopping onto its back and her eyes fluttering as they try to remain open.

Despite all of this she begins to stand up, forcing her way to her feet in a groggy state. This causes her to walk into a stomp to the ribs from the barefooted Katelyn, who then turns her back on Aurora, takes her around the neck and hits a snapmare.

Katelyn: HIIIYAAA!

Rose is flipped over to her rump while Buehler slaps her across the back of the head with both hands. She purposely messes up Aurora’s hair, throwing it in all different directions, deeming it to be the greatest insult of them all. Rose finally falls to her back while Buehler snatches up some flower petals off the canvas.

She drops to her knees beside Aurora and tries to stuff the flowers down her throat.

Buehler: Eat em, EAT EM!

A gagging Aurora rolls away from Katelyn spitting up petals. She swipes them off of her tongue at this point while Buehler stomps at her lower back and then at her head. Rose grabs her cranium and crawls towards one of the turnbuckles. She does get far before Katelyn hikes her dress up around her knees to deliver another stomp to Rose’s kidneys.

Aurora drops to her side, reaching for her mid-section which is enflamed with pain. All the while Buehler steps back fixing her golden locks then finally falling beehive hairdo first into Rose’s ribcage.

A wail emits from Rose as she grabs at her mid-section and rolls towards the cables, clasping hold of them in a desperate attempt to pull herself up.

Mark: I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Buehler is actually dominating this contest with Aurora now.

Susie: Although I hate her for stealing my flower girl gig, I do love her for not only whooping ass but doing it with style.

Rose drags herself up to her feet when nails are dug into her back, Katelyn scratching her down from the shoulders to the kidneys. Aurora spins around reaching for her broken skin when Buehler kicks her to the gut and places her in a snampare position.

Katelyn: HIIIIY….

Before she can get her word completely out, she flips Aurora over only for Rose to catch her around the neck in the process and counter with a stunner. A mixed reaction permeates the crowd while Katelyn stands upright, finger lifted and eyes batting awkwardly.

Drool seeps from the corner of her mouth until she finally falls to her bum, back propped up by the turnbuckle. A battered Aurora reaches her feet and eyes the prone Katelyn, charging at her quickly. She extends her feet and lands on the second rope, gripping the top one and pushing her lower body up into the air.

She swings her lower body down into a front dropkick that connects right on the button. Katelyn grabs her nose and jaw while Aurora falls to her back, rolling to the center of the ring.

The Punk Rock Princess steps in, grabs the ankle of Katelyn and drags her out of the corner before promptly making the cover.

1

2

Buehler kicks out to another loud mixed reaction.

Comeau: Katelyn hanging in there, which I guess is an accomplishment in and of itself.

Susie: I consider it an accomplishment.

Mark: Susie, you still consider finishing a Curious George book as a personal milestone.

Moore: Have you ever tried to read those things? Their complicated, the plots just tend to lose me.

The majority of the crowd is now solidly behind Aurora as she takes Katelyn by the bangs, forcing her along to her knees. A front chancery is applied at this point, Rose lifting her into the air for the vertical suplex. That’s when Buehler’s dress falls down around her hips and over Aurora’s features.

Is momentarily blinds her while Katelyn’s knickers are exposed to the world. The blinded Rose releases Katelyn, letting her drop over her shoulder. Unfortunately the dress gets snapped under Rose’s jaw, causing her to fall onto her back.

Buehler lands in a seated position right beside her, falling back with her spine pressed to the still blinded Aurora’s chest. The official slides in and makes the count.

1

2

3!

Comeau: WAIT! Katelyn just won?

Moore: Her magic dress saved her.

Mark: I don’t believe this for one second, Katelyn Buehler’s dress got snagged on Aurora’s jaw, bringing her down into that pinning predicament. What a strange happenstance.

A stunned Katelyn gets up, wondering why her arm is raised in victory. Once she reaches that she’s won she begins to jump around ecstatically, wrapping her arms around the referee’s neck in the process. Rose sits up, absolutely stunned that she was just pinned out of nowhere by Buehler. She rolls to her knees, eyes vengefully locked on the luckiest woman in the world.

Comeau: Katelyn just won in the oddest way ever, but I guess it’s a victory nevertheless.

Moore: I want Katelyn’s dress even more now, since it’s imbued with magical powers.

Aurora sits up on the canvas, looking dejected by this loss before her eyes transfer to the stage. Standing on the ramp is a giddy David Freak. He flails his arms through the air until he gets Aurora’s attention. Once her eyes settle on him Freak smiles wide, nods his head enthusiastically and motions to the backstage area. Strangely a grin comes to Rose’s face despite what just transpired.

CHANGE IN THE AIR?

A mixture of anger and anxiety makes Savior all the more dangerous as he moves towards the ring. He runs his palm down his elongated face and brushes his lips with the back of his wrist. He tries to toughen himself up, slapping his cheeks, although these blows are nowhere near as vicious as the ones he’s about to suffer.

It’s obvious that he’s trying to fire himself up for the impending World Title match. His fingers slip over the gold plate of his championship, cherishing it for what may very well be the last time.

Mark: The moment we’ve been waiting for all night is finally here. Christian moments from putting his belt on the line against this man.

The screen is now split down the middle, Johnny Kingdom appearing side by side with his rival. He moves out of his dressing room, slamming the broom closet door shut tightly behind him. There is a bit of a swagger in his step as he moves quickly down the corridor. He rotates his neck and shrugs his shoulders to get out all the kinks.

Moore: Oh, I thought it was going to show John Kerry.

Comeau: Uh, yeah. Anyhow, both the Champion and the Challenger on their way to the ring for what may be the biggest main event in the history of Riot!

Susie: It would have been bigger with John Kerry. He was the rapist head in Re-Animator right?

Mark: Is it possible to suddenly catch retardation?

The two progress down different corridors just like they’ve blazed different paths through life. The Rising Phoenix and the Team Leader continue onward, moving towards perhaps the biggest match of their careers and the fans couldn’t be anymore excited. Not even if they were slated to see a Jessica Alba, Megan Fox pillow fight.

Comeau: Christian Savior vs. Johnny Kingdom, World Heavyweight Title, NEXT!

Moore: If you emphasize that word one more time I’ll vomit.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

I stand corrected again, THIS is the greatest gimmick EVER!!

ON GUARD

A portly figure adorned in a black security shirt digs an unknown substance out of his ear. He smells it in order to determine its origin, and now employs a textual examination by rubbing it between his fingers. The security guards on either side of this blob-esque figure remain stoic as orders are barked at them.

Hurse: And another thing, I don’t want any fans at ringside wearing New York Mets caps, the name freaks me out, and I refuse to accept that New York has TWO professional baseball franchises. The Yankees are bad enough.

The classic “insult the local baseball team” gimmick gets the desired effect, extremely harsh boos from the sports fanatics in the audience. Hurse could care less as he stands before his personally hired security force, decked out head to toe in a fancy tux.

Hurse: And you guys make sure to clear out any fan with those insufferable giant foam fingers, their a painful reminder of my last prostate examination.

Two of the guards nod, responding to Hurse’s animated, exaggerated gyrations, however the third hired grunt now resorts to licking the substance retrieved from his ear.

Hurse: Oh, and there was something else, I seem to be forgetting someone…

Hurse cups his chin in his hand, trying desperately to recall the original reason he started shouting at the guards in the first place.

Hurse: Let’s see.

Fingers are raised and lowered as Hurse counts off all those he’s had banned from ringside.

Hurse: No Mets fans, if there even are any.

Again he’s drowned in boos.

Hurse: No fans who look suspiciously like Eddie Munster. YIKES.

He momentarily goes pale at the mere mention of such the fabled child actor.

Hurse: Was that everyone? Oh oh oh…PORNO!

The central guard, in all his rotund glory, perks up excitedly, his nipples hardening over the last word uttered.

Hurse: Make sure above anything else that Porno Lad, nor any of his merry band of idiots, intrudes on MY wedding. Use whatever force necessary to keep Porno Lad from ringside, I don’t care if you have to bust out pepper spray, tasers, blow darts, the whole nine yards, just keep him away. Got it?

The guards nod, although the middle one is only doing it because his associates are.

Hurse: Perfect. But I swear to God if you muck this up I’ll….I’ll…NOT LEAVE A TIP!

The statement is made all the more serious by the penetrating stare from the former World Champion, seething at the mere concept of Porno Lad making an unwanted appearance.

CHRISTIAN SAVIOR © VS. JOHNNY KINGDOM

WAKE UP

The fans do exactly as the lyrics instruct, breaking out of their subdued state and raising their hands high in the air. Their screams almost overpower the lyrics of these entrance tunes, especially as the challenger for the World title saunters to the stage. Johnny Kingdom emerges through the curtains, arms extended to his sides and confident smirk on his face. He continues to listen to this overwhelming response as he moseys down the ramp and to the squared circle, the reaction from the crowd picking up as he hops to the apron.

Mark: I’m still stunned that we’re going to be seeing this, Susie.

Susie: A naked midget on a tricycle?

Comeau: No, Johnny Kingdom FINALLY challenging for the World Heavyweight Championship. I’ve been his friend for many along year and I can honestly say that no title match means more to Johnny than this one here tonight. He did everything he could to force Savior into this title match, and he’s not about to waste the opportunity.

The Team Leader now occupies the ring, trying to keep his adrenaline in check although his heart beat is racing.

10...

9...

8...

7...

6...

The crowd starts booing as the countdown continues, as it signifies the arrival of a certain superstar. Their jeers quiet as the countdown reaches...

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

A series of bright fireworks go off as people yell and boo the recognizable countdown.

You think you know me?!

I’m…

As the smoke clears, Christian Savior is seen with his back to the audience, his arms outstretched!

Falling in the black
Slipping through the cracks
Falling to the depths can I ever go back
Dreaming of the way it used to be
Can you hear me

Spinning around, the figure reveals himself to be Christian Savior, wearing his black pants and phoenix-logo shirt, along with a long black trenchcoat. The World Title is wrapped around his waist, his palms caressing the gold.

Falling in the black
Slipping through the cracks
Falling to the depths can I ever go back
Falling inside the black
Falling inside falling inside the black

Savior makes his way down the ring, ignoring what words are being shouted by the audience.

Tonight I'm so alone
This sorrow takes ahold
Don't leave me here so cold
(Never want to be so cold)

Your touch used to be so kind
Your touch used to give me life
I've waited all this time, I've wasted so much time

Don't leave me alone
Cause I barely see at all
Don't leave me alone, I'm

Savior climbs up onto the apron, removing his coat. He discards it to a stagehand then slips through the ropes with the title still shimmering around his trim waist. Without delay he takes off his title and hands it over to the official, instructing the ref to protect it with his insignificant life.

Mark: THE World Champion, THE only man to EVER hold the SCW and IWC Heavyweight titles at the same time certainly had his night ruined.

Susie: He didn’t see those pictures of you taking a dump I posted on my MySpace page did he?

Comeau: Erm, no. But I’ll sue you later, nothing is going to ruin my high right now though, which is exactly what happened to Christian in the middle of his speech. This all came about after Kingdom abducted his brother, forcing Savior to put his title on the line. And although he’s coming out here without his insurance policy, Douglas or Evans, he’s still going to pull every trick out of the book to keep that belt.

Savior continues to move down the ramp, with the World title being removed from his waist. He takes off the gold all the more quickly when he spots Kingdom barreling up the ramp. The gold drops to the stage as the Team Leader and Rising Phoenix explode with a fury of right hands to one another’s faces, sending the crowd into a fit of madness.

Mark: And we don’t have to wait, Johnny going right at Savior! This just demonstrates what I was talking about a few moments ago, concerning Kingdom’s drive to win the belt.

A boot connects to Savior’s ribs as he’s taken by the back of the head, turned and thrown ribs first into the barricade. The Champion’s arm falls over the barrier, propping him up as Kingdom now nails a right hand to his forehead. Christian’s eyes glaze over as he twists towards the ring, stumbling down the ramp.

This is until Johnny grabs the back of his tights and pulls him spine first against his shoulder. The crowd reacts like they just ate a whole jar of sugar as Kingdom hoists his rival up for the back drop suplex. However, Christian floats over, landing feet first on the steel rampway.

As soon as Johnny spins around, Savior lunges into the air, going for the diamond cutter. The fans have only a moment to wail with despair until Johnny pushes Christian off and sends him plummeting spine first onto the steel.

Comeau: Kingdom AVOIDED the diamond cutter, he’s got Christian in all kinds of trouble right from the get go.

Moore: This is so much fun, it’s like a roller coaster without the vomit.

The lower back of the Champion is enflamed by the impact with the steel, his damaged body rolling to a kneeling base. Kingdom now swoops in, unleashing a series of right hands to the forehead of his prone victim. Each right that connects is vindication for some past misdeed committed during Savior’s infamous title reign, which could be coming to an end in a matter of moments.

His hair becomes tangled in Johnny’s grasp as he pulls him to his feet and begins to rush him towards the ring. However, right when they reach the end of the ramp, Savior plants his feet with the force of roots to the ground and actually hip tosses Johnny back first onto the thin protective mats.

Mark: Savior taking the momentum away from the challenger.

Moore: Just like I took the head off of Ken’s shoulders so I could really make him anatomically correct.

Comeau: Those literally have nothing in common.

The pain swelling through Kingdom’s spine is almost too much for his war torn body to withstand, especially given the punishment he suffered just two weeks ago. Yet somehow he displays amazing, Wolverine like rejuvenate powers as he struggles to his feet only to be nailed with a big boot to the jaw.

The glancing boot from a wobbly legged Savior sends Kingdom spiraling into the apron and falling against it for support. His back hits the ring with enough force to send a normal man collapsing to the mats, but Johnny remains upright just long enough to catch his inbound rival charging in.

He reaches out and wedges his hands to the legs of a charging Savior, pushing him up into a back drop. Savior does a headstand on the apron, the back of his legs hitting the cables and repelling him back down towards his opponent. He slips over Johnny’s shoulder, catches him by the neck and lands on his feet in front of his rival, bending the Team Leader forward into a front chancery.

Before Kingdom can stop it, he’s hoisted into the air and planted skull first into the outside mats with an implant DDT. The vibe in the building is hacked to pieces like a hippy staying at Camp Crystal Lake.

Susie: Oh fiddlesticks!

Comeau: I couldn’t say it any better myself. Johnny dropped right on his HEAD.

The prevalent emotion in the stands is depression as Christian sits on the mats, glee in his eyes. He takes Johnny around the neck and drags the dead weight that is Kingdom to his feet before dumping him into the ring under the ropes. Christian hastily enters the ring and slithers into the pinfall, hooking both legs to ensure he’s finished off Kingdom, and in record time.

Official Fitzpatrick shouts for the bell to officially start this match then spins right around, drops to the canvas and makes the count that will end it.

1

2

The hopes of the crowd are still alive as they watch Johnny’s arm valiantly spring forth from the canvas. Christian sits up, gnawing at his lower lip.

Mark: And Kingdom kicks out, he keeps this World Title match going.

Susie: He must have hard head. He, he, he…I chuckle because I said his head was hard and it looks like a penis.

Comeau: Wonderful.

There is no delay in Savior’s gameplan, holding NOTHING back. This is evident as he turns onto his knuckles and his knees, almost doing push ups as he anxiously waits for Johnny to stand so that he can conclude this contest. A stunned Team Leader is trying to reach his feet, obviously in a highly incoherent state after being driven with such force into the mats.

He struggles to his feet just as Christian lunges into the air, catches him around the back of the neck and pulls him down into the Original Sin (Codebreaker). Kingdom springs off the knees to his feet, his face flushed with a mixture of confusion and pain. Finally he tumbles to the ring with Savior again sliding into the cover.

Comeau: This is exactly how Savior finished off Nathan Creed at Destiny, will it do the trick twice? Can it take the fight out of Kingdom?

Johnny looks comatose as Christian slides over his sternum into the lateral press. The official drops to the canvas and again makes the count at Savior’s behest.

1

2

The fans cry as the hand drops for a third time.

3!

Savior has defeated Johnny in a matter of seconds, crushing the Team Leader’s aspirations….hold that thought, Kingdom kicks out!

Comeau: Johnny did it again!

Moore: He’s not going to sing a song about it like Britney Spears is he?

The Manhattan Center is downright riotous, no pun intended, as an increasingly paranoid Savior rises to his feet. He slaps his palms together, convinced that Fitzpatrick is in on some conspiracy against him.

Comeau: Newsflash Christian, pissing off the official is no way to retain your title.

Susie: No, but it can be fun. They’re asking for it wearing those goofy shirts. What, do they think their blending in with a herd? Hahahaha.

Mark: Stop talking.

Christian scoots up behind Kingdom sitting him on the canvas and slapping him with both hands to the back of his skull.

Christian: You wanted this so bad, huh, huh? You put your hands on my brother to get it? Well now you’ve got me LEGEND, come on LEGEND!

Savior stands up and delivers a malicious boot to the back of Kingdom’s head. The shot knocks Johnny back over onto his stomach, having exhausted all his energy to kick out of that code breaker.

Christian now puts his foot on the back of the Team Leader’s head, grinding it back and forth, not happy until he sees Johnny’s head pop like an over-compressed balloon. If it weren’t for Fitzpatrick, that’s exactly what Savior would do, the referee jumping in front of Savior and starting a five count.

He reaches four until he takes his foot away from Kingdom’s skull, stepping back with a look of raw emotion.

Mark: Just like I said, Savior is urinating all over the rule book.

Susie: The last book I urinated on was written by Dan Brown. It was too thick, and you actually have to know how to read to understand it.

Comeau: Your trials and tribulations touch me deeply, Susie.

Kingdom has been saturated with pain yet remains resilient, forcing his way to his knees. Another well placed boot to the temple knocks him right back down to his spine though and puts him just a few inches away from the turnbuckle.

Christian realizes his opponent’s proximity to the corner, prompting him to jump over the challenger and lunge to the top rope. He lands across the back of his legs on the uppermost cable then corkscrews as he moonsaults backwards right into the canvas.

No matter how sensational the move may have been it ended in pure disaster, Christian colliding with the canvas. Despite it all Kingdom had the wherewithal to roll from harm’s way at the last conceivable seconds. He ends up in the ropes, forcing his way to his feet and then stepping over Savior’s head.

He wraps his arms around his waist and lifts him up onto his shoulders in a powerbomb position. Sadly he’s too discombobulated to bear Savior’s weight or remember what his original plan was, allowing Savior just the moment he needs to drop back to his feet.

Once again Christian has caught Johnny’s neck on the way down, trapping him in a front chancery and setting up for the implant DDT a second time. The Champion’s plan goes horribly awry as Kingdom drops back into a release northern lights suplex that sends Christian flying spine first into the turnbuckle.

He crashes at incredible velocity against the corner, sending his traumatized body collapsing to the canvas a broken heap.

Comeau: That move was exactly what Kingdom needed to get back into this thing. But only time will tell if he’s not too battered from that implant DDT to muster a fight.

The spinal column of the World Champion is almost shattered, his flesh swollen across his lower back. He sluggishly starts to crawl out of the corner while the plagued Team Leader ascends to his feet. Both men are now suffering the repercussions of some horrendous spots yet still reach their feet.

A right hand connects with Christian’s jaw, Johnny finding the strength to slowly get himself back in the driver’s seat. The blow causes Savior to stand up and stagger around, trying to maintain his footing. That’s until a stiff uppercut rocks him enough to send the World Champion stumbling back first into the very corner he was just thrown into.

Mark: I guess Kingdom still has some fight left in him.

Susie: All he needs is for someone to throw him a can of spinach, and for half of his face to be stricken with Bells Palsy.

The Team Leader actually builds up the strength to rush at the prone Champion, only to walk right into raised boots. The kick disorientates Johnny and almost sends him down to the canvas before Christian rushes out of the corner for a lariat. However, he’s caught right under Johnny’s arm and hoisted into a Canadian back-breaker.

Savior’s spine is bent awkwardly over the Challenger’s knee, causing him to fall to the ring and writhe in agony. He grips at his kidneys in terrible pain and rolls to his stomach as Johnny surprisingly lunges into the air, nailing a big splash. His body engulfs the lower back of the World Champion.

Comeau: Johnny now zooming in on the lower back of Savior. I don’t know how he’s doing this considering the drop he took on his head just a few moments ago.

Moore: You act like being dropped on your head is a big deal. It happens to me at least twelve times a week, mostly when I’m playing Twister, which in retrospect isn’t as fun when your playing it by yourself.

Although Kingdom is in control it’s evident by the glazed over nature of his eyes that he’s still not fully aware of where he even is. Nevertheless he rushes backwards into the ropes, bounces off and launches himself across the ring into an elbow drop right to the lower back of his rival.

Christian grips at his kidneys and grinds his teeth in agony. These cries of pain only motivate Kingdom, who once again rushes into the ropes, bouncing off and charging forward for another splash to the lower back.

This time Christian flips over onto his back and kicks the inbound shin of Johnny, taking his legs out from under him. Johnny is tripped forward, causing him to crash down forehead first into the raised knee of the Champion. His cranium bounces from the knee-cap, rattling his brain and sending his body flopping to his back.

Mark: Savior now getting himself back into this title match. That championship is motivating these two to block the pain they have to be enduring after what they’re already put one another through.

Johnny grips at the bridge of his nose, which was almost pushed up through his brain. The trauma that implant DDT inflicted on his head is still slowing him down as Christian steps in and drops knee first directly into his temple.

The knee strike knocks Johnny from his crawling base to the canvas, desperately clutching to his last strings of consciousness. This becomes increasingly more difficult as Christian forces Johnny up and over to his knees only to blast him with a hard forearm strike to the skull.

The shot sends Johnny rolling across the ring and towards the ropes. Savior staggers towards him, placing the back of his hand to his lower spine in the process. Just as Johnny gets to his knees with the aid of the ropes, Christian begins to deliver right hand after right hand after right hand to his skull.

The punches connect with such speed and strength that they slowly send Johnny crumbling back down to the canvas. Eventually he finds himself sprawled across his back with Christian holding the top rope and stomping down at his body.

Comeau: Christian taking all the fire out of the Team Leader.

Moore: I guess someone’s been paying attention to Smokey the Bear.

The stomps continue as Christian grunts with each blow, putting as much strength as possible into these shots. Finally he takes Johnny around the neck and pulls him throat first over the middle rope. He steps up onto his lower back and still grips the top rope, actually standing on the Team Leader to choke him against the cable.

Johnny gasps for air, his face turning a bright shade of red before the official forces the World Champion off of his challenger. Christian fights out of the referee’s hands and crouches in a waiting position behind Johnny, who is struggling towards his feet.

He still uses the ropes to assist him, stooped forward in the process when Christian employs yet another forceful boot to his temple. This time it knocks Kingdom through the ropes and to the apron, where he lays almost motionless across his stomach. The only thing that kept him from crashing to the outside is the fact that his arm has hooked the middle rope.

He sluggishly ascends to his knees when Christian reaches through the ropes and takes him around his cranium. He now begins to force him through the ropes until Johnny’s body is elevated above the canvas, his ankles caught over the middle cable.

Savior holds him in a front chancery, grinning diabolically as he sets up for an elevated DDT.

Comeau: Oh no, oh no, this will definitely put the death nail in Kingdom.

Susie: I hate nails, that’s why mine our fake, and decorated with pictures of the Little Mermaid, my all time hero.

That’s when to the shock of the Champion, Johnny reaches out with his arms, hooks them behind Christian’s legs and lifts them into the air.

Savior is tripped over backwards, the momentum flipping Kingdom over into a jackknife cover. The crowd is screaming over this unexpected pin, the official dropping down and making the count.

1

2

To outraged screams and troubled wails, Savior kicks out, continuing to keep his title right where it is.

Mark: Oh, so close, Johnny almost snuck in and took that title.

Moore: He’s just like the Hamburgler, only his head is a little bigger.

A despondent Kingdom races towards his feet as quickly as his body will allow only to have Christian step in for another big boot. This time Johnny baseball slides under the inbound boot of his opponent, standing up behind him and rushing at his nearest arm.

He catches hold of it, setting up for the Lesson in Leadership to a raucous reaction. Johnny seems moments away from locking in the crossface only to have the Rising Phoenix finagle his arm free. He spins his body and turns to face Johnny’s back, reaching out and taking him around the jaw.

Savior is setting up for the reverse face buster only to have Johnny grab his wrists, force his hands away from his jaw and drop to his knees attempting to flip the Champion over his head.

To Kingdom’s dismay Christian counters this modified arm drag attempt by landing on his palms and cartwheeling over across the canvas. He lands directly on his feet then charges in at his kneeling adversary, trapping him in a front chancery. Once again he’s intending to dump Johnny right on his head with the implant DDT only to have Kingdom counter by powering him spine first into the turnbuckle.

Christian is charged forcefully into the corner, his back smacking viciously against the turnbuckle pads. Kingdom turns away from him after this counter, falling to his knees briefly as he tries to regain his faculties. He finally forces himself to his feet and turns towards the prone Christian, charging directly at him.

However, Savior pulls himself up onto the second rope at the last moment and then leap frogs the inbound Team Leader. He hops right over his head and lands directly behind Johnny. He stoops forward catching his breath and turning his side to his rival, having no idea that Johnny has scaled the turnbuckle instead of slamming against it and is now standing on the top rope.

He doesn’t learn about the error of his ways until Johnny flies from the top rope and lands knees first against Savior’s chest. Savior slams to his back with Kingdom landing on top of him, his knees pressed to the collar bone and chest of his rival.

Comeau: OHHHH!! I’ve never seen Kingdom do that before.

Susie: And I’ve never actually seen Johnny, I need sunglasses to see through the glare.

The Manhattan Center is rocking as Johnny drops into a forward roll across the canvas, ending up on his seat. He’s far too exhausted to go for the pin thanks to all the blows he’s withstood to his head. Despite the damage inflicted on his skull he starts to stand up, realizing that now may be his only chance to put the World Champion away.

A frazzled Christian is desperately trying to ascend to his feet. He stands up just in time to be taken down with a lariat from the Team Leader. The impact knocks Savior to the canvas and sends him rolling desperately towards his feet. He stands up for a second time only to be hit with another lariat that knocks him to the ring.

Mark: Johnny building momentum, this is when he’s at his MOST dangerous.

Savior is rendered incapable of reaching his feet as quickly as he had before, giving Johnny just the moment he needs to rip off his elbow pad and raise a fist aloft. It’s clear by the primal roar emanating from Kingdom’s lungs that he’s setting up for that deadly lariat he hasn’t utilized in years.

Johnny charges forward into the ropes, bouncing off and coming back in at a struggling Savior, almost ripping his head in two with the force of his clothesline. Both men tumble to the ring as Savior is actually flipped inside out thanks to the lariat, landing directly on top of his head before finally ending up sprawled across his back.

Comeau: That deadly lariat connects, I can’t remember the last time we saw Kingdom use that move. He’s busting out old and new moves to take the title home tonight.

Moore: I’d take the title home, but chances are it’ll lose all respect for me and never call again.

The crowd can feel it, sensing that a title change is near as Johnny crawls into the cover, cradling his arm over his chest, having possibly ripped his bicep to nail that career shortening lariat. He now finds himself in a lateral press over the champion as the official makes the count, the fans chanting along.

1

2

The crowd’s stops counting and starts booing the moment that Savior’s foot raises into the air and falls over the bottom rope.

Comeau: He did it, he did it, oh no, WAIT, Savior got his foot on the ropes.

Johnny is just as stunned as the crowd as he rolls away from his laid out opponent and tries desperately to reach his feet. Although his body may be aching from head to toe he remains upright just long enough to grab Christian by his wrist and his ankle, dragging him towards the center of the ring.

He motions with his arms for the 450 splash. The crowd stands up, almost frothing at their mouths as Johnny approaches the turnbuckle, all fired up as he begins to ascend to the top rope.

Mark: Kingdom going for that beautiful 450 splash to finally take that title from around Christian’s waist.

Susie: I hope Savior likes having droopy britches.

The crowd are slapping the barricades and stomping their feet, creating a loud ruckus in anticipation of Kingdom’s dive. He reaches the top rope and begins to turn to nail his move when he spots Christian somehow getting back to his feet in the ring. This forces Johnny to change his strategy as he takes flight, soaring at Savior only to be caught in mid-air with the Blaze of Glory.

The spear almost rips Kingdom in half and tears the excitement away from the crowd.

Comeau: Christian spearing Kingdom in mid-air!!

Savior ends up spread across the canvas beside his motionless challenger. The fans are floored as well by their shock, realizing that all hope of seeing Kingdom win the title just went up in smoke. The man who put an end to those fantasies continues to recover on the canvas, Christian still unable to make a cover.

When he finally does muster the strength to move it’s only to roll away from the Team Leader. Oddly he doesn’t go for the pinfall, instead he rises back to his feet, a diabolical expression overcoming his face. He rubs at his throat from the lariat he just suffered and now begins to lick his lips like an obese man at an all you can eat buffet.

Mark: What is wrong with Christian? He’s got Kingdom down and out yet he isn’t going for the pinfall, instead he’s standing there posturing and trying to make a point.

Susie: I like to strike a vogue as well, with my stuffed animals watching. It makes me feel sexy.

Comeau: And it makes you look like a moron.

Chuckles emanate from Savior, who glances over his shoulder at the laid out Kingdom. For some reason he is still not going for the pin. He approaches the ropes at this point, obviously trying to make a point before the official jumps in his path. He wedges his hands to Christian’s chest, imploring him to stay in the ring and conclude this match fairly.

Savior takes only a moment to listen to the referee’s objections before shoving him aside. The referee falls against the ropes, scraping one of his eyes against it and cringing from the pain. Christian rolls under the ropes to the outside and slowly approaches the announce table.

Mark: Oh great, here we go again, I’ve just about had it with the Conspiracy members trying to taunt me.

Moore: Dammit, you get all the admirers.

Savior leans over the announce table, purposely making eye contact with Comeau.

Christian: Like what you’ve seen so far, Mark? Well I want you to watch this with your own TWO EYES. You’ll get a blast out of it.

He now rips the top off of the announce table and grabs one of the monitors embedded inside of it. He rips the monitor from the wood and tears the electrical cords free from the back of it. With a truly maniacal expression on his face he begins to approach the ring with monitor in hand.

Mark: Haven’t you done enough, Christian? Do you really need to bash Kingdom with that monitor?

Moore: Yeah, and why’d you have to steal my monitor? How am I suppose to watch Gilmore Girls now?

Savior keeps an eye on Mark, amused by his anger as he sticks the monitor through the ropes and extends his head into the ring. That’s when a recovered Kingdom staggers in and delivers a punt kick to the monitor, driving it up right into Christian’s face.

The monitor smacks off of his skull, causing Christian’s eyes to roll to the back of his head and looks terribly disorientated.

Mark: He’s right, I did get a blast out of that.

The crowd is going nuts as Kingdom places him in a front chancery and drags him through the ropes to the center of the ring. Kingdom now hoists Savior into the air and plants him head first against the canvas with the Exodus Finale. The Manhattan Center is shaking with excitement as Savior sits up, eyes fluttering awkwardly. He falls to his back right as Kingdom dives into the cover.

The referee, still turned away from the action tending to his eye, glances over his shoulder and spots the pinfall.

Comeau: Now the Exodus Finale from Kingdom. Could this be it, could we see a new champion crowned!?!

Moore: I don’t think any crown could fit around Kingdom’s head.

The referee slides in and makes the count, Johnny hooking both of Savior’s legs for added leverage.

1

2

3!

Mark: New champion, new champion!

Moore: YIPPEE!

Thankfully the roof to the Manhattan Center is firmly held in place, otherwise it would be blown off by the deafening roar of the crowd. Johnny sits up, wide eyed and mouth agape, stunned that he’s just won the World Heavyweight title. It doesn’t sink in until the World Championship is dropped over his forearms, staring down into his reflection in the gold.

Comeau: I never, in a million years dreamed I would see this moment, Johnny Kingdom has just defeated Savior, he is now our IWC World Heavyweight Champion!

A smile stretches across Kingdom’s face as he stands and raises the title aloft. He basks in this moment, relishing in it in fact as he approaches a turnbuckle. He’s so overwhelmed with emotion that he hops to the second rope and raises the gold high above his head, continuing to live this surreal moment.

Mark: What a shocking turn of events. I don’t think anyone expected this tonight, especially Savior.

Christian sits on the canvas, having regained his faculties long enough for it to hit home. The realization that he’s lost his title sinks in and causes his face to become paler and paler, his pupils widening to the point where they almost break out of his skull. He looks like he’s having a full on panic attack.

The celebration continues, Johnny standing tall on the turnbuckle with the championship raised in the air, having been freed from the tyranny of the Conspiracy.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Greatest Tag Team Match EVER!

MOMENTS AGO

A frozen image of Johnny Kingdom standing on a turnbuckle with the World Championship held aloft consumes the screen. The almost horse voice of Comeau can be heard in the background.

Mark: What a STUNNING turn of events before the commercial break, NEW World Champion crowned here on Riot! Johnny Kingdom has taken the title away from Savior, and here’s how it all went down.

The footage provided showcases a confident Christian nailing the Original Sin.

Mark: It looked like Christian had things well in hand but his ego once again got the better of him.

The video cuts forward in time to display Savior ripping a monitor out of the announce table. He brags and makes idle threats on his way to the ring. As soon as he sticks his head through the ropes the monitor is punted directly into his face.

Comeau: And in the end it was that ego that cost him the World Heavyweight title.

The crowd once again relives the moment where Kingdom planted Christian against the ring via the Exodus Finale and claimed the title. The celebration in the Manhattan Center becomes the focus of the video, Johnny displayed once again in all his pestilence as he makes his way around the ring handing out high fives to the crowd.

DURING THE BREAK

Moore: And when people were watching reruns of House, this happened.

A despondent Christian Savior is shown almost ripping out large chunks of his hair. He looks like a zombie, his mind lost and his face frozen in an expression of shock. Everything that he cherished has been taken from him, and all that he believes in has been shattered on what was suppose to be a night of celebration.

That’s why he moves as petrified as a tree towards the exit, passing through the double blue doors and strolling off to God only knows where.

Comeau: The now FORMER World Champion, man it feels good to say that, leaving the arena for good perhaps after the loss of his title. But enough about Christian, let’s get to the NEW World Champion, who is standing side by side with Billy Mayne backstage.

NO

As if the fans weren’t already stimulated enough by this SHOCKING title switch, now would be an opportune time for them to take their blood pressure medication due to a glorious image. They are positively giddy at the sight of the conquering hero, Johnny Kingdom.

His smile is brighter than a star in supernova, reflected from the World Title belt rested over his shoulder.

Mayne: Yep, uh-huh, that’s right.

The excitement is infectious, evident by the strangely gleeful backstage correspondent. Billy is quite pleased with himself for wrangling in this scoop. With his back facing the standard interview area Billy’s confidence swells like the waistline of Opera Winfrey.

Billy: Billy Mayne standing here side by side with the NEW World Heavyweight Champion, Johnny Kingdom.

This feeling of happiness is unusual for Billy, who can’t help but to giggle like a school girl lusting after a Joey Lawrence poster.

Mayne: Its little moments like these that keep me from drinking myself to death. How does it feel Kingdom? How does it feel to once again be World Heavyweight Champion?

The microphone is held towards Johnny, who pauses only a moment to listen to the fans chanting his name. He cocks back his head, closes his eyes and listens as the crowd’s chants reverberate from the walls around him.

Johnny: One year ago I returned to this company, not for profit, not for popularity, and not for the championship.

The expression on the Team Leader’s face takes on an oddly serious tone, causing Billy to cease his prepubescent chuckles.

Kingdom: I came back with one motive, severing the king’s head and upending his tyranny. By beating Christian, in a manner that was anything but appreciative, I come one step closer to fulfilling that goal.

With one raise of the title belt the crowd reacts like Pavlov-ian pups.

Johnny: But…

The strap once again warms Kingdom’s shoulder, his smile returning.

Kingdom: Now that I have the title back in my hands, it reminds me that there are other things worth fighting for other than my one dimensional goal of ruining the Conspiracy. Being champ again has got me all nostalgic, it makes me want to relive those glory years. Those decadent days where I trampled on people’s dreams, stomped all over respect, and kicked in the faces of those ignorant sons of bitches foolishly enough to challenge me, all as I blazed my path into the record books as the GREATEST World Champion EVER. But you know…

He again shifts into serious mode as effortlessly as a woman suffering from menopause.

Johnny: This title win is far more significant than any belt I’ve ever won. I guess after what I’ve been subjected to over the past few months, including teaming with Orlando, YEESCH, it’s just given me a whole new appreciation of the World Championship..….

Before the Team Leader can continue with his grandiose speech, reminiscent of an actor handed an academy award, age old tensions rear their head. Without a word Orlando Cruze steps into the frame, ripping his sunglasses off the tip of his nose, wanting to see this with sight un-obscured.

Orlando: For once I’m actually glad to ruin this trip down memory lane.

Johnny: Wow, Orlando ruining something, who could have seen that coming?

Kingdom ponders this for a moment.

Kingdom: Probably your elementary school teachers who stuck you in those “special classes,” not to mention your mother who fretted over having the only bald ten year old on the block…

Orlando: I’m not here to pussyfoot around with you.

Obviously Orlando is in no joking mood, as serious as a portrait of Edger Allen Poe.

Cruze: I can tell you something that WAS foreseeable though. You sliding through the backdoor and winning the World title. Yeah, thanks for trivializing everything that this belt stood for.

Johnny: Are you mad, or did that chair shot last week destroy your few remaining brain-cells? If anything, I’m restoring credibility to this belt.

Orlando: I will admit that ANYBODY is better than Christian. Wait, wait, let me rephrase that. ANYBODY who actually earned a shot at the title? And you didn’t Johnny, not by a long-shot. Now ME on the other hand, I did win two straight number one contenders matches…

Kingdom: HA!

Kingdom doesn’t even try to mask his laughter.

Johnny: Thanks to two finishes so screwy you would think they came from the mind of Margot Kidder. Screwy finishes that I’m sure you had a hand in, but refuse to accept blame so you can continue masquerading with your goodie-two-shoes persona.

Cruze: Regardless of how things went, I STILL won those matches, and would have been victorious despite any outside shenanigans. So rightfully, despite what Douglas says, I AM the number one contender for that World title. And if your really all about reliving your glory days and returning honor to the title, then you’ll face me for the Championship right here tonight.

The walls that once teamed with Kingdom’s name now shake with the roar of the crowd, the fans swept up into madness over the prospect of seeing Johnny and Orlando collide. Once again Johnny fails to keep his laughter between clinched teeth.

Kingdom: Seriously, that’s it? That’s your sales-pitch? You honestly thought that speech would bait me into a title match? COME OOOONNN.

Now it’s Orlando who is cocking back his head, but he’s not listening to the cheers of the crowd, instead it’s the degrading words of his age old rival.

Johnny: Why the hell should I give you anything?

Orlando: Because it’s the right thing to do.

Kingdom: What kind of argument is THAT? You bore me. And after what you had your errand boy, Creed, do to me last week there’s no way….

Cruze: I had nothing to do….

Kingdom: Yeah. Story of your life, right? Wrong place, wrong time, guilty by association? Can it, we’ve heard it before. Let me tell you something else I’ve been hearing from you ever since you cheated your way to the number one contendership.

Johnny boldly leans forward, his face separated from Orlando’s by mere inches, ensuring there is no way his words could possibly be misconstrued.

Johnny: NO!

This answer to Orlando’s demand leaves the retiring star searching for another way to appeal to the Team Leader’s sense of fairness. But now he finds himself the one interrupted.

Douglas: NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NOOOOO!

These screams emanate from behind a wall of security guards. Yelping like an injured pooch, Douglas furiously storms towards the tag team champions, joined at the hip of his hand chosen number one contender, Pat Evans.

Dan: Don’t say another word because it’s incidental! There will be no title match between Kingdom and Cruze tonight, nor EVER!

This reaction completely changes the tune of the viewing audience, Kingdom now wishing he had said “yes” to Orlando’s request just so it would stick in the president’s crawl. Neither man takes kindly to the choice being taken out of their hands by the maniacal dictator.

Dan: But there will be ANOTHER World Title match, because the TRUE number one contender himself, PAT EVANS, is cashing in his World Title shot TONIGHT!

If Johnny can’t get his hands past security to rip Douglas apart, he let’s his words mangle him instead.

Kingdom: Okay, sure, why not. It’ll just get me one step closer to my ultimate goal.

Douglas: Alright then, World Title match, no disqualifications, and by the end of the night the World Title WILL return to the Conspiracy.

The furious Douglas backs away but Evans doesn’t budge. He locks eyes with the World Champion over the shoulders of security, both men disgusted at the mere sight of one another. Orlando is equally as repulsed by the fact that he’s now the odd man out in this title related madness.

PROBLEM FIXED

“Spirit of the Underdog” erupts through the PA system and elicits a plethora of reactions from the crowd. The reception is of little concern to either David Freak or Aurora, their focus more consumed with the figure tied to a wheelchair. Jason Wheeler’s unconscious body stoops forward in the chair, arms bound and head covered by a sack.

Comeau: I guess the Freaks did it, they actually have Wheeler! And I’m assuming they’re pushing him out here as an offering to Psycho.

Moore: Psycho doesn’t want to be fed, he wants to hunt.

Mark: I suppose Jason is as helpless as a lamb right now.

Jason is shoved onward by David until they reach the ringside area. Once there Freak and Aurora untie the arms of their victim, throw them over their shoulders and pull him to the apron. They roll him in under the ropes while David slips in himself and quickly demands a microphone.

Mark: Most the time I’d feel bad for someone about to be left to Psycho’s mercy, but this couldn’t be happening to a nicer guy.

Moore: Jason did volunteer to give me that free mammogram one time.

Comeau: Once again my sarcasm is wasted on you.

With microphone in hand and his wife dragging Jason to the center of the ring, David cuts loose.

David: PSYCHO! In the immortal words of George Bush, WE GOT EM! And we didn’t even have to go poking through some smelly cave, or comb all the shit out of his ratty beard. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t easy by any stretch of the imagination. I had to pay off a few security guards, sign a few autographs, and I don’t even want to get into what I promised the janitors…

His skin squirms.

David: But the bottom line is, Aurora and I found Jason, and here he is at your beckon call my friend.

David is almost so giddy he could break dance.

Freak: We made good on our promise, now it’s time for YOU to be a man of your word.

The microphone is handed over to Aurora, who places her foot on the down Wheeler’s back like he were newly conquered territory.

Aurora: You wanted him, we got him. So what do you say that we make this official and put all these problems behind us?

The still comatose Wheeler is propped up on his seat by David, who is showing off his catch, one that he definitely won’t be throwing back.

Rose: Come on now Psycho, here boy, come and get him.

If she had a dinner bell she would certainly be chiming it this very second.

Aurora: He’s right where you wan…

The lyrics that rip through the PA system aren’t the ones that the Freaks were expecting. Instead of listening to the deranged blend of System of the Down, they are privy to the tunes of “Freak Show.” Aurora is now sweating, but not from her previous match. Through the curtains emerges an un-expected guest, Shin Iwate.

Comeau: Uhhhh, I think Aurora’s and David’s plan just fell off the wheels.

Moore: My trailer does that all the time. Someone should of told me you can’t drive a double wide. Why does it even bother to have wheels? Why I ask, WHY!?!

The expression on Shin’s face is purely maniacal, strolling in a carefree manner to the ring. Neither David or Aurora have any idea how to react to this sight as Iwate gingerly moves up the steps and to the apron. A microphone is revealed in his palm, perhaps ready to explain his motivations.

Comeau: The issues between Iwate and Wheeler have been well documented over the last few weeks, ever since Iwate put in the work to reclaim the Cartel Title, only for Jason to steal it out from under him. And I’m just going to assume that’s what brings him to the ring tonight.

Moore: Oh my, if Shin gets his hands on a prone Wheeler, I can just imagine what’ll happen. Hmmm, oh my, oh yes that’s sexy. Can I be excused for a moment?

Obviously Susie’s fantasies are going to be unfulfilled as Iwate eyes the prone Wheeler with unmistakable malice. Before he can take another step forward or produce an explanation, David is prompt to throw himself in the way.

Freak: Whoa now, cool your jets Shin. We understand you got troubles with Wheeler…

Iwate: You understand nothing.

His words are so venomous they force Freak to recoil out of fear.

Shin: You know nothing about me, about my life, about my motives, and about my desire to show Wheeler what torture truly is.

Iwate’s gaze could melt ice.

David: I’m cool with whatever you want to do to Wheeler, all I’m asking is that you just wait your turn.

Iwate: Wait my turn? I’m afraid not. When an opportunity presents itself you don’t wait to seize it. Wheeler realized that when he snuck in like a coward and stole my Cartel title.

Freak: Is that what this is all about? A title belt? There’s like a bagillion of those things around here, can’t you just go get another one?

Shin: This isn’t about championships. I told the world that I would no longer be led astray, and that if anyone DARED to distract me from my primary goals they would suffer pains they couldn’t read about in books, see on TV, or even imagine. Wheeler thought I was bluffing, so tonight, I intend to make an example out of him, and discourage anyone else who thinks they can get away with meddling in my business.

It’s obvious who these comments are directed at as Shin steps up into David’s face. Aurora steps to her husband’s side, grabbing the microphone out of his hand, her other palm raised defensively.

Rose: Shin please. Please just let Psycho….

Iwate: You call that begging?

Aurora is once again brushed behind David’s back.

Shin: I’ve heard begging before, and it’s never swayed me. Your pleas are pointless, so step aside or suffer the same fate as Wheeler…

“Soldier Side” suddenly rips through the PA system and results in a loud reaction from the Manhattan Center crowd. The burly beast steps to the stage, Psycho’s scarred face directed towards the ring and Iwate. He moves down the ramp exuding primal rage that causes even the front row fans to back away from the barricades as he passes.

Comeau: This issue getting even more twisted by the second.

Moore: Just like my nipples.

Mark: Now Psycho is adding to this combustible situation. Everyone wants a piece of Wheeler here tonight.

The disturbed sociopath slips under the ropes into the ring, raising to a knee and briefly surveying all the faces in the ring. His gaze stops on Iwate, their eyes interlocking as the two recall what went down between them two weeks ago on Riot! It seems they are on the verge of picking up right where they left off, especially when Psycho grabs the microphone out of Iwate’s palm and steps nose to nose with the Japanese terror.

Psycho: Still feeding off my scraps I see.

Shin’s chin lowers and his eyes become all the more shadowy.

Psycho: What are you, the hyena who comes along and picks the bones of a prey laid out by the lion.

A finger gestures towards Psycho’s gnashed teeth.

Psycho: Your free meal is OVER. It was my plan to set these two out in search of Wheeler, and I’ll be damned if you once again capitalize on the fruits of my brilliance.

Iwate: I think using the words “brilliance” and “Psycho” together is an oxymoron.

The Sadistic One steps back, palming running down his features in an attempt to calm himself.

Shin: It seems to me that I’m not the only one exploiting the work of others. It wasn’t YOU who found Wheeler, it was the Freaks. So the way I see this, is it’s first come, first serve.

Psycho: But Shin, there’s so many funner ways we can settle this.

Just as he reaches into his pocket to retrieve that fork, and Iwate actually cracks a grin in anticipation of a brawl, the titontron comes to life. A view of the parking garage is provided as a white sports car speeds into view, the driver obscured by the tinted windows.

Comeau: What a hell of a time for Sallie to show up, but like I said earlier tonight, we were going to cut into whatever was happening in the ring the second that she arrived.

Moore: Why doesn’t Sallie have a last name? Is she trying to be like Cher? Only you know, not with a horrible singing voice?

Iwate and Psycho are still nose to nose, their attention undeterred by the images on the big screen. That is until the driver’s door flies open and Jason Wheeler exits. The crowd is aghast by this image, their eyes turning from the titantron to the body lying in the ring then back to the titantron again, trying to figure out what time anomaly allows Wheeler to be in two places at the same time. The same conundrum plagues all those in the ring as well.

Mark: How in the? What in the? How?

Moore: There are TWO Jason Wheelers? AWESOME! They can stare in a Doublemint gum commercial.

An irritated image of Wheeler continues to play over the big screen as he storms to the back of his car, popping open the trunk to gather up his personal belongings. A very confused Billy Mayne tentatively approaches him, microphone in hand. Obviously the backstage correspondent is as vexed as everyone else concerning how this is possible.

Billy: Um, Jason?

Wheeler: WHAT!?!

He slams the trunk closed and throws the Cartel Title belt over his shoulder. Instead of asking a question, Billy extends his finger and pokes Wheeler in the bicep, making sure he’s real.

Mayne: How are you here right now?

Jason: What kind of stupid question is that? Ohhhh, are you confused as to why I’m showing up so late? Well blame NEW YORK. I mean how ignorant do you have to be to steal a man’s i-phone?

All Billy can do is scratch at the top of his head like a monkey searching for an annoying louse.

Wheeler: My sentiments exactly. And I needed my phone to rent a freaking car. Of course since I didn’t put one on reserve when I showed up at the rental agency they had no vehicles available, well at least none to my liking. So I spent hours being dicked around by some ignorant New Yorker with that STUPID ACCENT, before I could FINALLY get a car to my specifications.

Now Mayne is very anxious, realizing that Wheeler has no idea what happened tonight. Jason picks up on this anxiety.

Jason: Why were you so concerned with my whereabouts, Billy? What did I miss?

Before a long winded explanation can be given the titantron cuts back to the standoff in the ring. Psycho and Shin slowly face one another yet again before simultaneously adjusting their gazes towards the Freaks. David and Aurora are JUST as surprised by what transpired on the big screen.

David: Erm..uh…how were we suppose to know it was all a set up?

Aurora: We thought it was the REAL Wheeler. We weren’t in on Kingdom’s plot, we swear!

She repeatedly motions to the still unconscious finger dressed in Wheeler’s ring gear and wearing a sack over his head. Before they can get in another plea of innocence, Shin and Psycho throw their personal grudge aside and begin to hurl right hands into the jaws of Aurora and David.

Comeau: The Freaks yet another victim of Johnny’s elaborate set up!

Susie: If it’s not Wheeler in the sack then who is it? It’s not me is it?

The crowd is screaming as David and Aurora find themselves discombobulated by these right hands. Psycho now steps back retrieves the fork from his pocket, raising it into the air only to have Aurora dives out of the ring to avoid it. A well placed uppercut from Shin to David sends Freak twisting through the cables and crashing to the mats.

Aurora moves in and assists her husband to his feet, the two absolutely stunned by what has unfolded.

Mark: Just when it seems that Rose and Freak had gotten out from under the black cloud known as Psycho their good intentions backfire yet again. Now it looks like they were just trying to play Psycho for a patsy.

The Sadistic One eyes the Freaks as they move around the ring and towards the entry way, all the while twirling the fork in his fingers. It’s at this point that Shin grabs the sack placed over the fake Wheeler’s head, ripping it off to reveal a gagged Crazy Eddie Mitchell.

Comeau: That was Crazy Eddie Mitchell all along?

Susie: Awww, I’ve missed him and his tag team partner, than inanimate brick.

Shin throws Mitchell back down to the canvas and stares at the sack in his palm. The sack is squeezed tightly before being tossed to the outside. A furious Psycho and an increasingly intense Iwate are now left to stand opposed to one another in the center of the ring. They eye each other speculatively, wondering what they should do next as the show goes to an abrupt commercial break.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

It’s good to have a healthy appetite

SHIN IWATE & PSYCHO
VS.
ROBIN BROOKS & HURSE

The show returns live to the interior of the Manhattan Center where both Psycho and Iwate are still standing in the ring. The two remain separated by mere inches, exchanging insults with one another while official Stuart Wright tries to calm them down.

Mark: Another perplexing situation just unfolded before the commercial break, which is why Shin Iwate and Psycho are out here arguing with one another.

Moore: If it hadn’t been for that blasted Wheeler doppelganger, none of this would have happened.

Comeau: Well it turns out Jason Wheeler really WASN’T abducted by Kingdom, but nevertheless, Johnny still manipulated his way into becoming champion. Now we’re seeing the side effects of that swerve. I don’t see how these two will coexist as a tag team in their scheduled match up next.

The torture loving Psycho and Iwate are still arguing over who is going to brutalize Wheeler tonight. Once again their bickering is cut off by some painfully familiar lyrics. P>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

Onto the stage saunters Robin Brooks and Hurse, arm in arm. Brooks is still adorned in her wedding dress but it is now wrapped up in a trench-coat, while Hurse is clothed in his tux. Smiles extend across both their faces as they move down the ramp towards the ring, Psycho and Iwate watching them with disdain.

Comeau: Robin and Hurse already dressed for their wedding but still forced to compete against the last people they want to face.

Moore: Isn’t it bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?

Mark: I think the last thing Robin and Hurse need is more bad luck, which is why Robin is trying to hide her dress under that coat.

Hurse has now jumped to the apron and is gently leading Robin up the stairs to his side. His heart flutters at the sight of her, causing him to hold his fast beating heart. His lips pucker in her direction only to have Robin shake her head “no,” insisting they wait till later.

Before Hurse can beg his fiancée for just a small taste Psycho grabs him by his tuxedo and flips him over the ropes into the ring. Hurse splats across the canvas back first and is immediately pounced upon by Iwate. Shin gets in a few stomps on the man who almost defeated him on the last Riot!

The malicious blows have Hurse convulsing and writhing before Shin drops to his knees, rifling off right hands to his opponent’s face. Psycho turns and witnesses Shin pulverizing his long time nemesis, causing him to almost steam.

Before Shin can land another blow, Psycho steps in, catches his fist and pulls him off the Master of Control. The eyes of Iwate tell the story as he ends up kneeling before the scarred figure.

Psycho: Your doing it AGAIN!

He gestures to Hurse, implying that Iwate once again tried to capitalize in his work. Shin’s cheeks twitch, perhaps out of anger or a struggle to form a smile.

Iwate: Fine. I have no cause to battle this nincompoop.

At that Iwate shockingly exits the ring, stands up on the apron and snatches up the tag rope. He gestures towards it, making sure that Psycho notices he’s being a good partner. The sarcasm of his actions are not wasted on Psycho, who smirks as he leads Hurse up to his feet.

The groom is hoisted up onto Psycho’s shoulder and barreled across the ring, ultimately being thrown like a javelin face first into the top turnbuckle pad. His skull bounces off with a thunderous impact, as he instinctively turns back towards the ring, eyes glazed over and mouth agape.

Before he even has time to fall he’s nailed with a running lariat so vicious it sends him twisting into a corkscrew.

Mark: What a SICK clothesline! Hurse turned inside out by his age old rival and bitter nemesis.

Moore: Bitter? You mean Hurse tastes like lime? I knew there was a reason I was always trying to lick him.

Comeau: I don’t think there’s anyway you can justify something so disgusting even Ron Jeremy wouldn’t touch it with his ten inch dick.

A shocked Robin buries her face in a bouquet of flowers, unable to even watch her future husband make an ass out of himself. If there was any time for doubts it would be right now. With his throat so red you would think he came from south of the Mason-Dixon line, Hurse struggles to get up.

He just reaches his feet before Psycho hoists him from behind and delivers a back drop suplex. Hurse’s body collides with enough force to shake the entire ring, causing his back to bow from the canvas.

The big man stands up, grabs Hurse’s shoulder and forces his entire body down to the canvas. That way he can charge in and effortlessly step on his rival’s face in the process.

Screams emit from Hurse, who swallows his face in his palms, obviously not going to look good for his wedding pictures. With a body enflamed by pain he stretches out for Robin, who is busy motioning to her dress.

Brooks: Are you SERIOUS? I’m not going to ruin my dress.

Hurse looks like he’s just seen a ghost, or been forced to watch Sex & the City. He despondently rises to his knees when Psycho charges in and delivers a vicious knee strike to the side of his cranium.

The collision of knee to skull leaves Hurse so dazed he produces a stream of saliva from the corner of his mouth.

Mark: Ahhh, and now a knee. I hope Robin hired someone to touch up their wedding photos.

Susie: If they hired me I’d so give Robin a Mr. Potato Head face. Everyone looks better with a Mr. Potato Head face. We would al be so much friendly if we had one, how can you be mad at Mr. Potato Head?

Comeau: If it had your personality I’m sure it wouldn’t be that difficult.

Hurse bobs on his knees like a bowie in the water. A grin so foul it could send an army in full retreat stretches across Psycho’s scarred features as he steps in, palms engulfing Hurse’s throat. He now drops back, dead lifting the former World Champion from his knees and tossing him over his head.

The double handed overhead release suplex causes the pain to last far longer than it takes to say it. It leaves Hurse writhing across the canvas before Psycho drops down beside him, his hand wrapped around the throat. He strangles the lift out of his long time rival as the crowd roots him on.

Referee Wright is almost tentative to start a five count, but commences with one nevertheless. When he reaches four Psycho beams a gut busting stare in his direction yet Wright forces himself to threaten the savage with disqualification.

Mark: Psycho better be careful that he doesn’t get himself disqualified. We’ve seen him show a blatant disregard for authority in the past and it hasn’t paid off well for him.

Susie: He’s a rebel without a cause. And he’s only half as dead as James Dean. By the way, I love his sausage.

Comeau: The double entendre is almost too hard to pass up.

Psycho finally complies with the referee’s request, yet takes his nemesis by the tie and uses it to drag him to his seat. It’s at this point that the Savage delivers several blatant closed fists to the skull, almost busting open the groom on the eve of his wedding.

Finally he tugs on the tie with enough force to pull Hurse to his feet and then hoist him into a gorilla press. Before he can fling Hurse’s prone body across the ring the former Champion reaches down and digs his fingers into the savage’s eyes.

This allows Hurse to slip from the palms and then dive into a dropkick to the back of Psycho’s leg. The shot breaks him down to a kneeling base before a surprisingly coherent Hurse delivers a dropkick right between the shoulder blades.

Thanks to this impact Psycho is sent rolling across the ring directly into his team’s corner. The big man instinctively extends his hand, looking for a tag, only for the gesture to be met with apathy. Shin doesn’t even bother to lift a finger, refusing to slap the outstretched hand to legally bring him into this twisted affair.

Psycho: Tag my hand.

The Sadistic One utters this order through grated teeth, yet Iwate doesn’t budge.

Iwate: I wouldn’t dream of benefiting from your hard work my American friend.

Although this would normally prompt Psycho to lash out, he instead stands up and throws his arms out to his sides.

Psycho: I’m glad you finally learned our customs. You can abandon me now.

He shoos him away with the back of his hand before Hurse shockingly catches him under the arms and pulls him down to the backslide.

1

Psycho kicks out, rolling backwards to his feet and then grabbing his still kneeling opponent, dragging his head under his seat. He hoists Hurse up into a powerbomb position.

Comeau: Although neither Psycho or Hurse are able to make a tag, due to their partners’ stubbornness, they are still waging quite a war in that ring.

Moore: My favorite war was World War II. I always wanted to play with Hitler’s mustache.

All Hurse can do is scream as he finds himself loaded on the shoulders of his adversary, Psycho turning to throw him across the ring. He backs towards his corner to get a running start only for Iwate to finally make the tag. The Sadistic One starts running forward but stops in mid-move, realizing that his partner just tagged himself in.

He fully realizes this the moment Iwate springs to the top rope and flies across the ring, hitting a lariat to Hurse’s throat that sends him flipping backwards from Psycho’s shoulders. He crashes with a thud across the ring while Iwate lands gracefully on his feet.

Mark: Iwate finally bringing himself into this match and in a big way.

Moore: Big? I’ve drank Big Gulps heavier than Shin.

The moment Hurse’s back hits the canvas Iwate rushes forward and lunges into the air. He delivers a powerful double stomp directly to the gut of his opposition. Hurse curls into the fetal position, desperately refilling his lungs with air and scraping his heels across the canvas.

Iwate finally makes eye contact with Psycho after delivering this move, the two giving one another a very long stare. Obviously neither man is aware of the other’s motives and it leaves them with a heightened sense of paranoia.

Psycho: The hyena strikes again.

Psycho finds himself disgusted as he begins to slip through the ropes to the outside. Such repulsion leaves him distracted just long enough for Shin to charge in and connect with a basement dropkick.

Both feet nail Psycho to his shoulder and temple, sending him crashing through the ropes to the outside of the ring.

Mark: WHOA!

Moore: We didn’t hit an iceberg did we?

Comeau: We’re not even on a boat.

Susie: Oh, I guess I’m rocking thanks to all those pixy sticks I snorted.

Mark: It didn’t take long for Shin to betray his partner’s confidence in him. That dropkick just nailed the Sadistic One, but I don’t know what Iwate was trying to accomplish.

Psycho has surprisingly landed on his feet and now he looks more fired up than ever before. If he could produce steam his eyes would fog up all the windows in the Empire State building. Iwate is emotionally devoid as he backs across the ring and finds his back just inches separated from Robin.

She now reaches over the ropes, grabs Shin’s shoulder and spins him around, trying to clock him in the head with the bouquet. Shin catches it and prevents the petals from connecting against skull.

Moore: I guess Moore wanted Shin to get a good whiff of those posies.

Iwate rips the bouquet out of Robin’s hand and tears the flowers apart, revealing a steel bar to be concealed within. But now the foreign weapon is in Iwate’s clutches and he doesn’t hesitate to use them. He lifts the bar with every intention of swinging it straight into Robin’s head.

That’s when he’s caught by the arm and spun around by Hurse, the Master of Control catching him around the neck for the Disinfectant, otherwise known as the Contra Code. He charges across the ring to hit the move only to have Iwate shove him off.

Hurse is pushed with such force that the momentum easily carries him the full length of the ring before turning his body into a projectile weapon. He dives through the ropes and connects with a suicide headbunt on Psycho, both men crumbling to the mats side by side.

Iwate instinctively backs up after hitting the move, putting him within arms length of Robin yet again. She reaches over the ropes, wraps her palms under Iwate’s neck and drops off the apron. The back of his neck is snapped from the top rope, causing him to crash forward into the canvas.

Comeau: The distraction finally paying off and the Brooks’ actually going on the offensive.

Susie: I guess we’ll have to get use to calling them that.

Iwate has landed on his elbows and knees, crawling across the ring while Robin makes her way up the turnbuckle behind him. She hikes up her wedding dress to her knees before flying out of the corner into a picture perfect elbow drop square to Shin’s kidneys.

The landing knocks the air from Shin’s body and lays him out completely. Robin takes full advantage of the fact that the referee is distracted with the commotion on the outside of the ring involving her husband and his bitter nemesis. She rolls Iwate to his back, lifts up her dress and delivers a leg drop across his throat.

Iwate sits up gasping for air and gripping at his larynx until Brooks flips over his head, taking the back of it and snapping it forward.

His jaw bounces off of his chest while falling to his back, his opponent rolling forward to her feet. She once again lifts up on the stunning dress and begins to lay into Iwate with a succession of stomps. Shin convulses under the blows, still suffering from this unexpected onslaught.

Mark: I’m glad to see that Robin and Iwate have finally gotten into this match, I just wish it was under better circumstances.

Susie: Robin has the best ring attire EVER!

Robin approaches the bar she illegally inserted into the bouquet and then employs it in a unique fashion. Instead of going for a knock out blow she instead employs it to choke Iwate out. She wedges her knee to his spine and pulls back on his head by tugging back on the pipe wedged against Iwate’s throat.

He gasps for air but is obviously use to this type of punishment because he doesn’t stay grounded for long. He actually begins to will himself upwards, Robin forced to take away her knee. She now steps back and lifts the bar into the air, ready to bash the kneeling Iwate over the back of his skull.

That’s before she catches a glimpse of the official turning around, prompting her to hide the pipe behind her back. She grins cheesily and waves at the official while Iwate turns on his knees to face her. Before Wright can even protest her presence in the ring, Brooks rushes forward and gets caught against Iwate’s shoulder. He snaps back into a bridging northern lights suplex, planting the Submission Champion’s back right on top of the bar.

The official doesn’t bother to make the count, informing Shin that Robin is not the legal participant. As a result Shin is forced to break the northern lights, looking somewhat dejected that the official didn’t make the count.

Comeau: Iwate may have had it there if Robin were the legal man.

Moore: Can’t you even try to be politically correct? We prefer the term she-males. So it should be, the legal she-male.

Mark: Alright, alright, it wasn’t funny the first time you said it.

Robin is allowed to roll towards the ropes where she pitches the foreign object to the outside of the ring. This also gives her the opportunity to employ the cables to drag herself to a standing base. The moment she gets up a clubbing forearm nails her in the sternum.

The blow from Iwate rips her wedding dress slightly, the tear increasing once he delivers a stiff knife edge chop. On the outside of the ring old rivals renew their hatred as Hurse comes barreling across the mats at the recently recovered Psycho. He dives at him for a crossbody only to be caught right across the Sadistic One’s sternum.

His back turns towards the announce table, perhaps ready to deliver a fall away slam that would finally debilitate Hurse once and for all.

Mark: Um, we might want to clear out of the way.

Susie: Somebody get me a lifeboat!

On the inside of the ring Iwate has whipped the bride to be across the ring, sending her bouncing off the far ropes. Once she hits them her arm instinctively hooks the top cable though, keeping from coming back at her waiting opposition. Shin now comes charging in only to have Robin bend down and catch his knees to her shoulder.

With an exertion of all her strength, Brooks back drops Iwate over the ropes and sends him crashing with a senton plancha right into Hurse’s back and Psycho’s shoulder. All three men collapse to the mats with Hurse landing on top of Psycho’s sternum.

Comeau: OHHH, I don’t think that was Robin’s intention but she just laid out both her opponents and her fiancée.

Moore: Pretty soon that type of thing will count as spousal abuse.

Referee Wright is still shouting at Robin, insisting she get out of the ring while Hurse actually appears to be the fresher of the aching trio. He struggles to his feet and grabs the hair of the man who defeated him last week, rushing Iwate at the ring and sliding him in across his stomach.

Despite all the pain in his body, Hurse slides into the squared circle after Shin and quickly scrambles into a lateral press. The official makes the count.

1

2

Iwate kicks out, launching his shoulder from the ring amongst a very mixed reaction from the crowd.

Comeau: But Hurse unable to put Shin away. What a wedding celebration it would be for his bride to actually WIN a match for a change.

An exasperated Robin watches on from their corner per the referee’s orders, but won’t remain complacent for long should Iwate continue to persist. Hurse grunts and growls like a slobbering dog as he leads Iwate to his knees and thrusts his head into position for the Sanitizer.

The Master of Control lifts his hands into the air, making an H formation with his hands. This very brief pause to posture puts Hurse in a world of trouble though, because Iwate quickly reaches out and snatches him by the back of the knees.

Hurse’s legs are hoisted into the air, causing him trip over onto his back. It’s at this point that Shin grabs the raised ankle of Hurse, lifting up on it and sending him rolling backwards to his knees. The vicious Iwate slaps his arms around the groom’s waist and lifts him into a dominator position. He now rushes across the ring and drives the upside down Hurse against the turnbuckle ribs first.

Comeau: This could be huge for Shin, he’s setting up for the Forbidden Suplex. A move that NO ONE has kicked out of yet.

Moore: Not even the reanimated body of John Candy?

Mark: Yeah, sure, why not? Is there even a point to you having a brain at all?

Iwate takes Hurse around the neck, preparing to deliver the deadly suplex and finish him off to screams from both Robin and the fans. Before he can hit the move though, Psycho re-enters the ring and steps up behind him. He wraps his arms around Iwate’s waist, dragging him out of the corner to the center of the ring.

All the while Robin has stepped across the apron, pulling down on the back of Hurse’s pants so that he can sit up on the top rope.

The vengeful Psycho drops back, flipping his tag team partner over his head into a German suplex. To the shock of everyone though, Iwate lands directly on his feet, displaying true poise and grace. All the while Psycho stands up in front of him, unaware that Shin has once again displayed the agility of a feline.

He stands just in time however, to notice Hurse flying off the top rope into a crossbody. The crossbody doesn’t connect on Psycho though, instead he’s sent flying right into Iwate. Hurse crashes down on top of Shin, both men crumbling to the canvas.

Somehow Iwate rolls back though, pushing Hurse onto his spine with Shin spread across his sternum, reversing into his own pinfall.

1

2

The crowd cheers, realizing that Iwate is mere moments from victory when Psycho grabs Iwate by the hair, pulling him up out of the pinning predicament. He digs into his pocket, retrieves the fork and stabs Iwate right between the eyes.

Comeau: AHHH! Shin had the pinfall but Psycho just ripped his flesh open with that fork!

Moore: Psycho is soooo hungry, no wonder he’s so hefty, and here I thought it was just because he was retaining water.

The points of the fork are bent thanks to the sheer impact of their collision with Iwate’s skull. Shin drops to his back, rolling to his side but expressing no pain whatsoever, even as a slight trickle of blood flows down his face. The official has no other recourse but to call for the bell after this display, forced to disqualify Psycho’s team.

The bell chiming in the background is the last thing Psycho wants to hear, sending him into a Festus like frenzy. He lifts the fork and charges at the referee, who scampers from the ring like a frightened child. He now turns towards a trembling Hurse, who is grabbed by the ankle and dragged from the squared circle by a frightened Robin.

They lean on each other and make their way up the ramp, absolutely stunned by Psycho’s implosion.

Mark: The Sadistic One finally snapping and getting this match thrown out thanks to stabbing his OWN partner in the face with that ghetto fork.

Moore: It’s from the inner city? I thought it was blingin’.

Comeau: Psycho is out of his mind obsessed with Jason Wheeler, and he can’t stand anyone getting in the way of that, even his own partner, Iwate. Of course, Shin didn’t show he could be trustworthy at all in this match either.

Shin has rolled to the outside of the ring, slipping his digits across the open gash in his forehead then licking the blood from his finger tips. Psycho stares at Shin from the ring, a crooked smile on his face as he twirls the fork in his fingers.

Shin: The night is still young, Psycho, and we both know where Jason will be later tonight.

Now it’s Iwate who is grinning, and surprisingly his reaction seems to be making Psycho uncomfortable.

BUTT OUT

Needless to say there is A LOT on the mind of Orlando Cruze. One can detect his mental anguish by his pacing and lowered head. He moves back and forth through his lockeroom, suffering the effects of shock, still refusing to accept that the title changed hands tonight, and more importantly, that he wasn’t the man who reaped the benefits of this stunning moment.

Nathan: Well…

Of course Creed comes along to further compound Cruze’s stress. He looks up into the face of his best friend with dread, especially as he spots the dented pipe rested against Nathan’s shoulder.

Cruze: Well what?

He shrugs, clearly no Mrs. Cleo, unable to see the future or read his partner’s mind.

Creed: How are we going to FIX this situation?

Nathan’s words drip with intensity, his skin almost squirming every time he thinks of Johnny butting in and stealing the World Title right from under his partner’s nose.

Orlando: Fix what situation?

A toothless grin forms on Creed’s face.

Nathan: Don’t be coy, Cruze. I know you, and I know you can’t stand for this. You can’t let Kingdom leave the building tonight as World Champion.

Cruze: Then you don’t know me at all.

Orlando’s words are uncharacteristically chilling and unkind to Creed’s ears.

Cruze: I’m not going to stoop to the Conspiracy’s level, and I’m not going to pull a page out of Kingdom’s book.

Creed: But Johnny Kingdom as World Champion, that’s….that’s…

Orlando: A fact you’re just going to have to deal with. Sadly Kingdom is the lesser of two evils. We should want him to leave here tonight STILL World Heavyweight Champion. If he accomplishes that then he’ll have effectively crushed the Conspiracy.

Nathan: Johnny shouldn’t have that honor. He shouldn’t squirm through the doggie door and take credit for all our hard work.

It takes every fiber of Orlando’s being to hold back from slapping his friend in the face, instead he just flies off the handle, expressing himself through words rather than actions.

Cruze: Are you listening to yourself? This is exactly where we’ve gone wrong the past few months, we’ve let ourselves be divided. Instead of Kingdom and I working together for a greater cause we’ve been indulging some pointless rivalry that has accomplished NOTHING, with the exception of allowing the Conspiracy to grow stronger and stronger. So TONIGHT if Kingdom has the chance to crush the Conspiracy’s spirit, then we should let him do it and stay out of the way. Our egos aren’t as important as the greater cause.

Nathan: But you’re the one who should have that title, and we should be the ones facing off for it like we’ve planned our ENTIRE careers.

Orlando: I can wait a bit longer for my shot at the title, because nothing is going to keep me from retiring with that belt regardless of who walks away champion tonight. But tonight I’m wiping my hands clean of the entire situation.

Creed: Well then I have another reason to apologize to you. Because I can’t risk Evans leaving with the World Championship after everything that he’s cost me.

The feeling Creed gets from holding the pipe is almost orgasmic. He turns to leave but finds his bicep caught in Orlando’s clutches.

Cruze: Dammit Nathan, think for once.

Creed pulls his arm free, somewhat offended by his partner’s demeanor.

Orlando: You’ve been going off on your own for months now, hastily putting together these plots and all it’s done is get us buried deeper and deeper in controversy. First it was the amnesia act, and don’t even get me started on what you did last week…

Creed: I can explain that. It’s all one big misunderstanding.

Cruze: There seems to be a lot of that lately. I’m sick of hearing it, and I’m sick of you dragging me into the middle of it. I don’t want to be remembered in infamy, I want to be the guy who always did the right thing, what was good for the business. So if you value this friendship, you’ll stay out of that World Title match tonight, because if you get involved it will only lead to bad things. Count on it.

At that the Icon ejects himself from his own dressing room, leaving Creed behind. The confidence is gone from Nathan, his intensity replaced with contemplation.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Don’t mess with the “wooo”

ORLANDO CRUZE VS. JASON WHEELER

The crowd is brought to its feet the moment that the lyrics of “You Know My Name” hits the PA system. Like thirteen year old girls at a Jonas Brother’s concert, the fans lunge out of their seats and scream at the image of Orlando Cruze. The Icon has stormed to the stage with a pep in his step and a renewed vigor for competition. After all he’s been forced to witness tonight he’s more focused than before, a quicker pep in his step as he descends upon the ring.

Comeau: We’re back here live on what has been a SENSATIONAL night, and what a way to return from commercial break.

Moore: Yep, I was bending over to pick up a pencil.

Mark: I was actually referring to the fact that Orlando Cruze is on his way to the ring for one of his FINAL IWC appearances. This is all part of his retirement tour, taking on some of his greatest opponents and getting closure on a number of issues. Tonight he goes one on one with a man we thought had been kidnapped but was really just late getting to the building.

To a thunderous reaction Orlando stands on the turnbuckle, arm raised aloft, basking in the reception of the audience. The crowd relishes at the sight of him for one of the last occasions.

Open your heart it's gonna be alriiiiiiiii....

SING IT!

Thunder, rain, and lightning
Danger, water rising
Clamour, sirens wailing
It's such a bad sign

The crowd is infuriated at the sound of this music, not even bothering to look towards the stage.

Shadows of dark creatures
Steel clouds floating in the air
People run for shelter
What's gonna happen to us!?
All the steps we take, all the moves we make, all the pain at stake
I see the chaos for everyone
who are we what can we do
You and I are same in the way
that we have our own styles that we won't change

The audience is defiant in their anger even as a small cry from a group of people comes from an audience exit way. Crouching on the archway to the exit is The Black Cat himself.

Yours is filled with evil and mine's not there is no way I can lose
Can't hold on much longer - But I will never let go
I know it's a one way track - Tell me now how long this'll last
I'm not gonna think this way - Nor will I count on others
Close my eyes and feel it burn - Now I see what I've gotta do
OPEN YOUR HEART, IT'S GONNA BE ALRIGHT

He looks as the audience tries to get past the security guards and hops down.

If it won't stop,
there will be no future for us
Its heart is tied down by all the hate, gotta set him free

Wheeler almost runs down the stairs, hoping over the rail and sliding into the ring. He then stays there for a moment before slowly pulling himself up. The Cartel Championship is wrapped tightly around his waist, gleaming brightly as he starts to stand.

Can't hold on much longer - But I will never let go
I know it's a one way track - Tell me now how long this'll last
I'm not gonna think this way - Nor will I count on others
Close my eyes and feel it burn - Now I see what I've gotta do
OPEN YOUR HEART, IT'S GONNA BE ALRIGHT

The song repeats the last line as the Black Cat leaps to the turnbuckle, posing for the fans as they boo him furiously.

Comeau: Jason Wheeler better consider himself lucky that he was late arriving to the arena tonight, otherwise he would have been at the mercy of Psycho and Shin Iwate. But now he’s at the Icon’s mercy.

Moore: Nobody is merciful around here, if they were they’d give me five minutes to do my shadow puppet act.

Mark: This match mainly arranged thanks to Orlando’s desire to actually PIN Wheeler. The entire time Jason has been here, he’s avoided being defeated by the Icon, but that can all change in just a few moments.

Before the bell could even ring Orlando and Jason step towards one another, Wheeler looking up into the face of his opposition.

Comeau: There is definitely some personal history between these two, especially after the last Riot! where Wheeler almost cost Orlando his career. On top of that, both of these men are widely considered the two greatest world champions of the IWC and the SCW. This should be a classic.

As soon as the bell chimes Wheeler throws aside any concept of a mat wrestling classic by raking Orlando’s eyes. The Icon grabs at his face and immediately turns away from the Black Cat, who takes him by the back of the head and charges him at a turnbuckle.

Orlando is driven face first into the corner and spun around, his back wedged to the turnbuckle. This leaves him perfectly prone for a series of knife edge chops across the sternum and stomps to the ribs. Wheeler is unloading on him with blow after blow while given the opportunity before taking Cruze around the back of the head.

He charges him across the ring into the diagonal corner, about to drive him face first against it. The Cartel Champion rears back on the Icon’s cranium, but Orlando reaches out, wrapping his hands around the top rope and wedging his feet to the canvas. Orlando prevents having his forehead slammed against the turnbuckle, before he delivers a reverse elbow into Wheeler’s ribcage.

Jason is doubled over by the hard collision of elbow to rib. In pain he reaches for his gut only to have his arm pulled away and hooked, Orlando charging him at the cables then hip tossing him over.

Comeau: WHOA! Orlando throwing Wheeler right over the ropes into the mats!

Moore: I think Jason was high enough to see my trailer. Hopefully it wasn’t rolling away.

Wheeler flips entirely over and crashes across his ribs and chest on the thin outside mats. He rolls to his back, eyes fluttering as he tries to remain conscious. Official Fitzpatrick steps towards the ropes commencing with a ten count. Before he can even reach five Orlando spins the referee around shaking his head no.

Orlando: Oh, no, no, no, he ain’t getting out of this one.

Cruze drops to the canvas and rolls to the outside of the ring, going right after a dazed Wheeler, refusing to win this match by count out. Unfortunately, the moment he steps in Wheeler grabs Cruze’s trunks and tugs forward on them, causing Orlando to trip and be launched face first into the steel steps.

His skull crashes against the metal viciously, the crowd groaning in response.

Mark: Orlando NEEDING to pin Wheeler here tonight, prompting him to go after the Cartel Champion, but it just ended disastrously.

Susie: Disastrously? But he made out with the stairs. I think it was cute. Inter-alloy-relations make me horny.

The Icon is now propped back first against the steps, reaching for his aching skull before Wheeler comes barreling at him. He throws himself with an upside down cannonball into Orlando’s sternum, ramming the Icon’s back against the stairs.

Comeau: Ouch, now Wheeler throwing his OWN body at Orlando, employing HIMSELF as a weapon.

Jason drops over onto his knees then rolls into the ring, breaking the official’s count. He exits and goes right back to work on the seated Orlando, delivering a succession of stomps to the sternum of his prone opposition. The malicious Black Cat steps back, stomps his foot and then charges in, slapping his knee directly into Orlando’s face.

Cruze’s head is sandwiched between knee and stair, doing untold amounts of damage to his cranium. A battered Orlando rolls across the mats gripping at his damaged skull while Wheeler starts up the stairs, drops to a knee and stretches his arms out to his sides.

Instead of basking in the appreciation for his actions he’s almost booed out of the building. Their jeers only make Wheeler smile, despite everything that has transpired here tonight. He blows off the crowd and turns around, still standing on the top of the steps, waiting for his adversary to recover.

A very dazed Icon rises sluggishly to his feet when Wheeler jumps off of the steps, going for a lariat. Somehow Orlando has the wherewithal to drop to his knees, avoiding the move. At the last moment Jason drops down into a forward roll across the mats, ending up backing on his feet then turning towards his opponent.

Orlando has forced himself to his feet just as Wheeler comes barreling towards him only to be caught by the leg and flapjacked face first directly into the stairs.

Comeau: Now Jason tasting the steel.

Susie: Those poor steps caught in the crossfire. I guess they would be considered collateral damge.

Wheeler’s skull is almost shattered due to the impact with the steel, his body stumbling backwards into the waiting arms of the former World Champion. A surprisingly lucid Orlando takes Wheeler around the neck and rolls him into the ring, once again breaking the official’s ten count.

The battered Orlando leans on the apron for several moments, trying to recover before sluggishly dragging himself up onto the apron. He just gets his feet beneath him when Wheeler shockingly rushes across the ring and drops into a baseball slide dropkick directly to the Icon’s ankle.

Orlando’s legs are knocked out from under him, sending him tumbling face first into the apron. He bounce off the hardest portion of the ring with great force, his ears ringing and his brain rattled.

Comeau: Jason again exploiting his speed advantage and taking Orlando out before he can get back in that ring.

The official has re-commenced with his ten count, nearing five before a startled Orlando hops to the apron and tries to enter through the ropes. That’s when Wheeler springs off the perpendicular cables, twists and dropkicks Orlando to his sternum, knocking him from the apron to the outside.

Now the referee has reached a count of six, Wheeler’s strategy becoming painfully obvious.

Mark: Wheeler is doing everything he can to get Orlando counted out. What a cheap means of trying to win this match.

Susie: That is cheap. Believe me, I know what cheap is, and that’s it.

Comeau: I’m sure you do.

Cruze bends forward with his hands wrapped around his head, still suffering from the collision with the apron a few moments ago. The crowd is screaming at him to re-enter the ring, to get back in there as the official has now reached a count of eight.

Once he realizes that he’s on the brink of being counted out, Orlando charges at the squared circle, trying to re-enter. Wheeler is right there in front of him though, trying to cut him off from the opposite side of the ropes. That’s when Orlando steps back, grabs Jason’s ankles and rips his legs out from under him.

Wheeler crashes to his back while Orlando now slides in breaking the official’s count right as he was on the verge of reaching ten.

Mark: Orlando barely beating the ten count before it was too late.

Orlando immediately lifts Wheeler’s legs, trying to step through them and establish the sharpshooter only to be pushed off and sent reeling spine first into the corner. He smacks against it forcefully, almost tumbling to his rear end and barely maintaining his footing.

The ever so crafty Wheeler nips up to his feet with the poise of a feisty feline only for Orlando to step forward and take him right back down by sweeping his legs out from under him. Before Jason realizes it, Orlando has placed his leg through Wheeler’s and is on the verge of rolling him over into the sharpshooter. It’s obvious that the retiring legend is desperate to earn a tap out victory and finally DEFEAT the multiple time SCW World Champion.

The Black Cat looks to derail these aspirations, bending his knees and doubling Orlando over so that he can once again rake his eyes. Cruze grabs at his face and turns away from his rising opponent. The conniving Wheeler rakes Orlando blatantly down his back, leaving scratch marks in the flesh.

Comeau: As usual Wheeler is exploiting every unlawful tactic in the book to ensure a victory here tonight.

Susie: There are a few unlawful things I’d like to do with Wheeler, like jaywalking, or shouting public obscenities.

Mark: You naughty, naughty girl.

Cruze spins around and is chopped viciously across his sternum, a red streak left in the flesh. That’s when Wheeler pops him under the jaw and nails a boot directly to the ribs. The Black Cat whips the Icon across the ring and then plants his foot preparing for a superkick.

As a dazed Cruze comes charging back in Wheeler launches his foot into the air for the superkick only to have it caught directly in front of his jaw. The crowd wails as Orlando pushes down on the ankle, the momentum sending Wheeler into a spin. The moment he turns to face Orlando, Cruze rushes forward only to be caught with the sky high press.

Orlando’s back is driven violently into he canvas with Wheeler leaning forward, palms pressed to his rival’s ribs.

1

2

To a deafening roar Cruze kicks out, getting his shoulder up before his retirement tour could be tarnished with a loss. Jason’s eyes are so wide they threaten to rip out of their sockets.

Comeau: The Icon continuing to hang in there in this physical, fast paced encounter. He doesn’t want to have a blemish on his road to retirement.

Susie: I hate blemishes, that’s why I sit so far away from you. Hahhahaha, oh SNAP!

The calculating Wheeler slithers across his knees to Orlando’s side, taking hold of his arms and trying to apply the Ring Lock. He cannot get his hands clasped between the Icon’s shoulder blades though, unable to properly synch in one of his most devastating submission holds.

Orlando grits his teeth and rises to a knee, fighting through the trauma, desperately trying to get to his feet. Wheeler stands up in front of him, still hooking both arms and trying to get his fingers interlocked. That’s when Orlando drops back, flipping Jason over top of him and ending up in almost a northern lights pinning predicament.

1

2

Wheeler rolls to his side, still hooking both of Orlando’s arms and trying his best to obtain the submission hold. Cruze realizes that it could all very well come down to this, that his career aspirations may just be upended may just be upended by his most annoying rival.

Orlando stands upright as quickly as possible, the momentum throwing Jason over his head into a back body drop. On the way down though, Wheeler catches Cruze around the waist and pulls him down into a sunset flip. The fans are screaming as Fitzpatrick makes the count.

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2

The former World Champion kicks out, rolling backwards to his feet then launching himself into a diving European Uppercut. The move connects directly against Jason’s jaw, knocking him into a backwards roll amongst an explosion of cheers from the audience.

Mark: An absolutely VICIOUS European Uppercut from Orlando flipping Wheeler over. That may be just the move the Icon needed to get himself back into this grueling contest.

The fans are slapping the barriers at this point and stomping their feet, rallying behind Orlando as he desperately wills himself to his feet. Despite the trauma flowing through his exasperated frame he stumbles towards his kneeling opposition and begins to deliver repeated forearm shivers to his skull.

Jason sways back and forth on his knees from these impacts, almost going down. That doesn’t seem to be Orlando’s intention though, stepping back and slapping his bicep, perhaps calling out for ANOTHER brutal Euro Uppercut. He rushes backwards into the ropes building momentum and bouncing off.

Just as Cruze charges forward Wheeler springs to his feet and into the air with a picture perfect dropkick that connects right on the button. Orlando’s face is engulfed by the boots, his body plummeting to the ring like a sack of bricks.

Susie: I think Jason just gave Orlando a suppository.

Comeau: Ummm, suppositories go in your bum, Susie.

Moore: Oh, OHHHH. That’s why they always tasted so awful.

Orlando grips at his jaw, rolling from side to side as Wheeler rolls under the ropes to the apron. He stands up and pivots between feet, anxiously waiting for Cruze to reach his feet. Just as Orlando stands up, Jason springs to the top rope and comes flying off, clubbing the Icon straight to his face with a flying forearm strike.

The shot knocks Cruze to his back while Wheeler lunges to his feet, throwing a fist into the air in a mocking posture. The crowd rabidly jumps all over him yet Jason maintains his smirk.

Comeau: Yeah, keep on posturing Wheeler, that’ll win you a match.

Susie: It will? Then I should be a World Champion, I can strike a vogue like nobody’s business.

Jason gives up on his mannerisms and slips through the ropes to the apron, the Infectious superstar rising to the top of a nearby turnbuckle. He once again waits for Orlando to get up, this time setting for his version of the Blockbuster, affectionately dubbed the Foreshadow.

Mark: Wheeler possibly in a position to conclude this match.

Jason balances himself precariously on the turnbuckle, ready to soar as Orlando sluggishly reaches his feet. With glazed over eyes he turns to face his assailant, Wheeler flying through the air with the intention of nailing the Foreshadow. Before he can catch Cruze, the Icon drops to his knees, causing Wheeler to employ the same strategy he did on the outside of the ring by dropping into a forward roll.

He ends up directly on his feet, twisting to face his slowly standing opponent. He comes charging at Orlando and jumping into the air, catching him around the neck for the tornado DDT. Unfortunately for Wheeler, Orlando has the gumption to wedge his hands to his opponent’s ribs and shove him off.

Jason is sent flying backwards, ultimately landing right on his feet before barreling forward only to be caught with a drop toe hold. Wheeler crashes onto his stomach and chest with Orlando crawling over his back, pulling him up, hooking one arm then unleashing the dreaded MMA elbows.

Comeau: Orlando cutting loose with the elbows! Nobody has escaped this move in the past.

Susie: He must have bionic elbows, like the six million dollar man, Ted Dibiase.

Mark: Uhhh, never-mind.

Wheeler’s eyes are already fogging over due to these elbows yet he begins to scamper backwards. He somehow slips between the Icon’s legs and stands up behind him, looking very light headed. Nevertheless he charges up behind Orlando who turns and catches him with a huge spinning spinebuster.

Jason is slammed violently against the canvas with Cruze hooking both his legs.

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2

No! Wheeler yet again avoids being defeated by Orlando, launching his shoulder from the ring in the process.

Comeau: Wheeler kicks out again! What is it going to take for Orlando to finally beat the Black Cat and put an end to this curse?

Cruze rolls away from him to his back, far too exhausted to keep up this pace and too demoralized to continue going. No matter what he does, he just can’t finish off the Black Cat, who now finds himself reaching out and grabbing the nearby official.

Jason begins to drag himself up the referee, grabbing hold of his shirt and pulling Fitzpatrick down towards him. Wheeler now cocks his fist, pulling it back and preparing to pop the referee in order to get himself intentionally disqualified.

Just before he can, Orlando steps up behind him, hooks his arm from behind and begins to unleash the elbows once again. The fans are going absolutely ape-shit as Orlando nails elbow after elbow directly to the Black Cat’s temple. Wheeler’s eyes once again gloss over and drool begins to seep from the corner of his mouth.

The Cartel Champion is fading quickly before finally falling into unconsciousness. Fitzpatrick turns and calls for the bell to a resounding ovation from the crowd, Orlando having finally defeated Wheeler and done so by rendering him unconscious with the elbows.

Mark: It’s over, it’s finally over, Orlando defeating Wheeler with the elbows, putting an end to this curse.

Susie: Was it a Gypsy curse? Those are the hardest curses to get rid of.

Comeau: I’m sure you’ve been cursed plenty in your lifetime. What a conclusion to this long story between Wheeler and Orlando, the bitter hostility between them culminating to this KO victory with the elbows.

Orlando has fallen to his back the moment the bell has sounded, his chest heaving and his features drenched with sweat. The crowd is giving him a standing ovation, relishing in every opportunity they have left to cheer for the Icon.

Comeau: Orlando with an emotionally appealing victory here tonight….

Moore: Awww, thank God I brought some extra tampons.

Mark:….over a very game Jason Wheeler, who almost defeated Cruze, but it was not to be on this huge edition of Riot!

OPPORTUNITY

Orlando sluggishly stands and falls against the ropes, looking towards the crowd with a half hearted smile on his face. He slowly exits the ring, staring through the ropes at Jason and wondering rather he should exploit this opportunity to take out the Cartel Champion. However, his decision is taken out of his hands by the intruding sociopath Psycho.

Comeau: Things spiraling out of control, big shock there. A few moments ago Iwate insinuated that he and Psycho still had a chance to get their hands on Wheeler and the Sadistic One is taking that opportunity now.

The Sadistic Savage slides under the ropes and goes right to work on Wheeler, beginning to pummel him between the shoulder blades with clobbering blows. Orlando watches for only a moment before shaking his head and dropping to the mats. He slowly walks away while Psycho stomps Wheeler to the back of the cranium repeatedly.

That’s when the bent fork is withdrew from Psycho’s pants, licked to great satisfaction then gripped tightly in his palm. His eyes are ablaze as he grabs Jason by the hair, yanking on it and pulling up his face so they are eye to eye.

Psycho: I’ve been waiting so loooong for this moment. I guess if you want something done right, you’ve got to do it yourself.

Psycho cocks back the fork and prepares to unleash hell with it when his wrist is grabbed from behind. The fans are stunned as Psycho is spun around and taken down with a pear of brass knuckles. Shin Iwate slugs him right between the eyes, knocking the behemoth to his spine and rendering him unconscious.

Comeau: Now Iwate out here and he just took out the Sadistic One with the brass knuckles! This is sheer chaos.

Moore: Wheeler must feel so loved. Now he doesn’t need though daddy issues.

Psycho’s eyes flutter as he tries to regain his consciousness, Iwate stooping over him. Blood has clotted and dried across Shin’s face as he smiles sinisterly in the savage’s direction.

Iwate: Like I said Psycho, when the opportunity presents itself, you TAKE IT.

The chilling message is delivered as Shin turns, ready to unload on Wheeler at this point only to have his chin engulfed in the Black Cat’s boot. The superkick knocks Iwate’s legs out from under him and sends his body crumbling to the canvas right alongside Psycho’s.

Comeau: Ohhh, SUPERKICK from Wheeler, he just knocked Iwate OUT!

Moore: And he didn’t even have to buy him dinner first.

The superkick has seemingly incapacitated Iwate, who rolls around trying to regain his faculties. The crafty Wheeler opts to vacate the ring and not press his luck. He drops to the mats, approaches the time keeper and yanks his Cartel Title free from their hands. He pulls the gold to his chest like it were a sobbing infant, protecting it with his life as he sluggishly stumbles around the ringside area.

Mark: Wheeler escaping with the Cartel title, but how much longer can he avoid these two?

A dazed Jason turns back towards the ring, his eyes wide as his pupils fix on his recovering rivals.

STILL WAITING

Once again the enclosed parking facility dominates the screen, the camera STILL awaiting the sight of Sallie. Unfortunately, she remains undetected, her car not cruising down the entrance ramp.

Mark: Still no Sallie.

Moore: And she still doesn’t have a last name.

Comeau: I’m starting to think that she’s not going to show up even though her job is in jeopardy.

Susie: Don’t worry, you still have me.

Mark: Oh joy. Let’s get back to the ring where another event is slated to go down tonight that makes my skin crawl.

The focus lingers on the entrance ramp to the parking structure, hoping to catch a glimpse of Douglas’ liaison to no avail.

TEARING OUT THE KNOTS

The show returns live after an extended commercial break to find that the ring has been lavishly decorated for the wedding. A Preacher, complete with flowing black gown and thick bible, stands under a flowered archway. He musters an accommodating expression, obviously not use to marrying people in this type of setting.

Comeau: Well the moment that all those on medication has been waiting for is finally upon us.

Moore: They’re doing a Thundercats remake?

Mark: If they are I’m sure Michael Bay would direct it.

Susie: Yay for explosions.

Comeau: Before we can get to our SECOND World Title match tonight, we have to witness this debacle. Hurse about to tie the knot with the Submission Champion, Robin Brooks.

Moore: If I cry hold me.

Mark: And if I vomit please hold back my hair.

It would be perfectly understandable for one to think they had tuned in to the wrong wrestling show, as yet another SCW star makes an appearance, this one standing beside the pulpit. The best man for the festivities, James Exeter, forces a smile to his face but clearly feels uncomfortable in his itchy tux. At the very least he gets an eyeful of Bailey Brooks, stood across from him in her somewhat revealing bridesmaid dress.

His discomfort is increased by the repetitive tunes provided by a synthesizer, and the would-be musician striking its keys. The cigarette and beer bottle in his hand makes it all the more difficult for him to properly produce a marital theme.

“House of the Rising Sun” plays just as the crowd was getting antsy, now giving them someone to shout at. They bombard Hurse with boos as the groom moves to the stage, wearing his torn tuxedo. A couple red blotches mark his face thanks to his earlier battle with Psycho and Shin Iwate, clearly not having time to hit the make-up truck.

Mark: And there’s the Groom. All I’ve got to say about this is it’s about time he finally proposed to Robin. They were dating for like four of the most unbearable years humanly possible.

Moore: I’ve rather enjoyed the last four years, not only did I become a commentator but I learned how to ride a bike and blow bubbles.

Comeau: Fantastic. But it seems that we’re finally on the verge of putting all this “drama” between Robin and Hurse behind us. And yes, that is definitely something to be thankful for if nothing else.

With a swagger to his hips Hurse moves towards the ring, making his way down a red carpet and passing a number of chairs. Friends and family have been arranged in white seats all around the ringside area, amongst the guests are Faith, Petey Parkwood, Charles the Komodo Dragon, Rick-Rohl, and a couple of seat fillers.

The Master of Control doesn’t care about who could attend the wedding on such short notice, the fewer the better. He’s as happy as a claim as he slips through the hops excitedly towards his brother. It’s up to Exeter to wedge his hands to his sibling’s shoulders holding him in place.

Nothing can keep Hurse still though, he looks like he’s about to burst from all the adrenaline pumping through his body. He’s almost given a full on joygasm when Exeter steps around to the side of the flowered arch and grabs a guitar, throwing the strap over the back of his neck.

Although the tunes are almost drowned out by the boos of the crowd, Exeter begins to play a horrible rendition of the wedding march. It’s almost cringe worthy in fact, yet Hurse listens like he’s being serenaded, his body almost melting on the canvas.

He perks right back up though, when Robin Brooks steps through the curtains with her wedding dress now uncovered, the trench-coat thrown aside. Her long, flowing gown almost causes Hurse to faint, perhaps realizing what he’s gotten himself into.

The veil is not enough to hide the glowing smile of the Black Widow, it shines straight out through the fabric. A new bouquet is gripped in her palm while her agitated father leads her towards the squared circle. It’s clear that her father is not entirely on board with this, whispering as much into Robin’s ear the closer they get to the ring.

She will not let her special moment be ruined by naysayers, breaking away from the man who raised her and arrogantly moving up the steps to the apron. She pauses to overlook the booing fans, but even they can’t alter her smile.

Upon entering the ring her hand is taken by her fiancée, who manages to kiss her on the knuckles without ruining the moment. The fact that Hurse finally made a romantic gesture without butchering it or requiring the aid of paramedics brings an even wider grin to her face.

Robin, much like her fiancée, is almost bursting with excitement as she’s led to the pulpit. Hurse swallows deep, interlocks arms with her and the two turn towards the Preacher, ready to hear the BIGGEST speech of either of their lives. An added contingent of security guards can now be seen flanking the entry way in anticipation of a Porno Lad interruption.

Preacher: Ladies and gentlemen, we are gathered here today to join together Robin Brooks and Steven Parkwood in holy matrimony. On this blessed occasion I’m reminded of a poem written by a blessed man…

Before he can get any further with his pre-prepared speech the lyrics lifted from Beegees song hits the PA system, resulting in a loud reaction from the crowd. Through the crowd now appears Disco Ninja, dancing amongst the fans and getting them to bust a groove as well. At least ten fans begin to do the Hustle, while Hurse’s backwoods inbred cousin, Petey, also does the dance at ringside.

Mark: An appearance by Disco Ninja already throwing the wedding off schedule in the early goings.

Susie: This is so much better, the reception SHOULD be during the wedding, it makes it less boring that way, and it gives me an excuse for vomiting all over the place.

Disco Ninja gets the crowd to clap in unisons while Robin angrily points him out for security. Two burly gentlemen jump the barrier and go after Disco Ninja, who promptly scampers away. Half of the privately purchased security force is hot on Disco’s heels, pursuing him into the backstage area.

An angry Hurse tries to calm down an even angrier Robin, ensuring her that security has everything taken care of. The Beegees finally cut out in the background as a very confused Preacher progresses.

Preacher: Uh, alright. You know, you probably should have done this in a church. There’s far fewer distractions.

Hurse angrily slips his finger across his throat.

Hurse: Cut the ab-live old man and get to the juicy stuff.

Robin actually nods in agreement, realizing that the longer this wedding goes the greater the chance of disaster increases.

Preacher: So, like I was saying, uh, ummm, I can’t seem to remember my place.

Hurse: Something about a fucking poem, JESUS!

The Preacher’s stare could set Hurse ablaze.

Preacher: I don’t seem to remember the poem I was referencing, so what do you say that we just get to the vows? I believe that you’ve both prepared your own?

Hurse: Damn skippy.

An excited Hurse snaps his fingers as Exeter digs into his pocket and removes a note-card, quickly handing it off to the former World Champion. Robin watches with twinkles in her eyes as Hurse takes a deep breathe and prepares to read the speech he spent hours deliberating on.

Hurse: Robin, my little calamari, if there were a recipe for love, you would add a tablespoon of nutmeg, two servings of margarine, some guacamole and….wait….this is the recipe for chip dip.

James cringes, hoping his half brother didn’t notice. Robin’s mouth is agape as Hurse’s furious eyes transfer to his brother, Exeter offering a hasty explanation.

James: Hey, it’s the best I could do on short notice. I couldn’t find your speech.

Brooks: You had just ONE job. How can you have messed it up? All you had to do was protect Steven’s vows.

Exeter: It’s not my fault security around here sucks. Someone busted in and stole the note-cards out of your dressing room, alright, there, that’s what happened. Don’t kill the messenger.

Hurse: Why would the cards with my vows on them be in Robin’s room…?

Robin: Nah nah nah.

The Bride urgently flails her palms through the air.

Brooks: It’s not that important. Besides, I’m sure the vows were just stolen from some movie.

Hurse: Several movies actually. But they were romance films. Okay, some of it was taken from Action Jackson but…

Robin: My point exactly. How about I just read MY vows, since I actually put thought into them?

Both Exeter and Hurse shrug simultaneously, perfectly fine with this. Bailey retrieves the note-cards with Robin’s vows written on them from her cleavage. Although she’s somewhat disgusted, Brooks snatches the cards away from her sister and shuffles them in her hands.

Brooks: Steven, when we first got together seven years ago, I thought I had made the biggest mistake of my life.

Her fiancée cringes, the vows not starting out very promisingly.

Robin: But over the years you’ve grown on me, like a boil, or a wart. And I can take comfort in knowing that no matter what happens between us, there’s no getting rid of you. I know that sometimes I have trouble expressing my emotions for you, Steven, but tonight I’m actually going to tell you how much I lo….

FREE FLOWER PETALS FOR EVERYONE!

Katelyn Beuhler rushes through the crowd at this point on the side opposite to the one where the fans were just boogying. She is in the process of throwing huge handfuls of flower petals into the air, watching with a smile as they scatter.

Naturally Hurse nor Robin enjoy this flower dispersal nearly as much as Katelyn does. Brooks stomps her foot in anger and actually throws her vows up into the air, opting to just forget it. Exeter gestures with his guitar in Katelyn’s direction, prompting the other half of Hurse’s private security force to go traipsing off after her.

Much like Disco Ninja a few moments, Katelyn beats the pavement, charging towards the back. Robin is absolutely fuming, her arms crossed as she pouts. Hurse rubs her biceps, trying to calm her down then looking frantically at the Preacher.

Hurse: You know what; to HELL with all this hoopla. All we really need is your blessing and the kiss, so skip to that and quit beating around the bush.

A twenty dollar bill is fished out of Hurse’s pocket and jammed into the agitated Preacher’s palm. With a roll of his eyes and a flinch of his bushy brow, he cuts right to the chase.

Preacher: Fine. The good Lord knows that my time is better spent elsewhere. So Steven, do you?

Hurse: I most certainly do.

Preacher: And Robin?

Brooks: Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.

Preacher: Um, I’ll take that as a yes. Therefore, if there are no objections to this union of Steven Parkwood and Robin Brooks….

For a moment the wedding party takes a collective breathe. They nervously eye one another, wondering if someone will oppose this fiasco. The Preacher keeps a keen eye on the audience before shrugging.

Preacher: Really, nobody?

Brooks: Why do you sound so shocked?

Preacher: No reason. Okay then, would you please exchange rings?

Hurse beams a stare at Exeter who motions for him to relax as he removes the golden wedding band from his pocket. Bailey once again digs between her bosom and produces the ring for her sister. Robin takes it with a foul expression on her face, holding it out towards Hurse. Just as she begins to slide it onto his finger the crowd absolutely erupts.

They are not overjoyed at the image of Robin and Hurse seconds from officially tying the knot, instead their excitement is directed towards Hellkat.

Moore: Thundercats HOOOOO!

Comeau: Hellkat is here!

The feisty feline superstar pushes her mentally incapacitated husband in a wheelchair to the stage. She is adorned in her finest ensemble while Desolation is decked out in a fancy tux completely with a bib to catch his drool. The two make their way down the ramp with the crowd chanting Hellkat’s name. Robin is almost so offended by the mere sight of her that she wants to spew.

Somehow she holds back, twisting her gaze to her soon to be husband.

Robin: Who invited HER

Hurse looks just as confused, holding out his palms and pleading ignorance. Therefore, Robin now directs her questions at the source of the controversy.

Brooks: What are you doing here!?!

Instead of uttering so much as a word Hellkat grabs something from beneath her husband’s lapel, holding up an invitation. The Black Widow is almost snarling but once again Hurse tries to be the voice of reason, no matter how insane that may sound.

Hurse: Honey, honey, honey, this is all just some kind of big practical joke by Porno Lad. He’s pulling out every little trick in his playbook to ruin our wedding, let’s not give him the satisfaction.

Robin takes a soothing breathe, realizing that Hurse is accurate for once. Nevertheless she keeps a precarious eye on the former World Champion, and her nemesis Hellkat. The spotted Hellkat’s reaction is a sarcastic wave.

Preacher: Alright, you know what, fuck this, let’s just get it done.

There is no arguing with his demands, his voice far too intimidating.

Preacher: Let’s seal this up nicely with a kiss shall we? So pucker up and put ‘em together!

Although hesitant Robin closes her eyes and extends her lips. Hurse eagerly throws back her veil, licking his lips to moisturize them then winking in Hellkat’s direction. The gesture sends a chill through her body.

Hurse now leans in for the kiss that will bring to an end almost four years worth of betrayals, affairs and wars with ex lovers. Robin and Hurse are finally ready to put their history where it belongs, in the past, and move into the future as one. Of course their lips are separated by just a few inches when “Original Prankster” streams through the speakers and sends the crowd into a uproar.

Porno Lad: I ABJECT!

The Preacher looks towards the heavens cutting loose with a string of four letter obscenities before throwing his arms into the air in a huff. Robin and Hurse are white as sheets as they turn to the stage, fiery eyes focused on Porno Lad. Their constant annoyance paces across the steel runway with microphone in hand and the crowd in his back pocket.

Porno Lad: I just….

He is cut off by the almost deafening roar of his name from the crowd, causing him to hesitate. This gives it a moment for Porno Lad’s interference to sink in on the now blood red bride and groom.

Porno Lad: I just couldn’t let you two lovely kids go tying the knot without me being there to wrap a cute little bow around it.

It’s not only the Preacher who is cursing but everyone in the ring as well at this point.

Porno Lad: When I became your wedding planner, I made certain “promises” that some stupid bet shouldn’t come in the way of. I owe a lot to you two. I mean, you’ve been constant sources of entertainment for my exploitation, and that’s the gift that keeps on giving. So I’ve decided that since the bet between the three of us was made around a special April holiday, it gives me the right to say….APRIL FOOLS!

Exeter has to physically restrain Hurse, who is thrashing his arms through the air wildly. Robin digs her nails into Bailey’s shoulder, almost breaking the skin.

Porno Lad: I never quit being your wedding planner, there’s no way I could. I knew this wedding would be a snooze fest, which is why I had Disco Ninja providing the entertainment and Katelyn throwing flowers, which by the way had nothing to do with getting rid of security. At the very least I’m fulfilling the promises I made as your wedding planner and putting some SPICE on this meatball. But to top it off, I’m gonna sprinkle a little sugar.

It’s obvious that neither Robin or Hurse can possibly tolerate anymore.

Porno Lad: I had a very SPECIAL video made to put this whole relationship into perspective, all the while playing something by Jewel that will deform our sperm. So with no more wait, prepare to be brought to tears with this heart warming story of a woman’s love for a punching bag.

The build is over, Porno Lad stepping back and gesturing towards the big screen as excited as a tot lamenting over his oversized lollipop. To a mixed response and much abjection from Robin and Hurse the video proceeds. A giant heart consumes the screen and in the center are the faces of the soon to be married.

The photo features Hurse crying as he’s slapped in the back of the head with a rolled up newspaper from Robin. The romantic music sets a soothing mood as camcorder caught footage begins to play. A wannabe Casanova stands in the gritty run down portion of an inner city. Flowers are held in his hand and a bottle of fine wine is tucked under his armpit.

He looms in front of a door yet stares down into a note, reading off the numbers. All the while he’s unaware that a shaky video camera is following his every movement.

Hurse: Hmmm, the Blue Oyster? This looks more like a club than a house.

He continues to tentatively examine the address left on the card he received earlier that day several weeks ago.

Hurse: But I guess if this is where Hellkat wanted to meet me, it’ll have to be. Who am I to reject her passion? Maybe she heard I’m a suave dancer and she wants me to TAKE her on the dance floor.

To add to the disgust he actually shakes his hips and eagerly raises a fist towards the door.

Hurse: After all this time it’s finally gonna happen. Man oh man I’m gonna lick every one of those tattoos till my mouth dries. This is gonna be wicked.

The door to the back alley establishment flies open and a group of feminine men adorned in hot leather biker outfits stands before him. Hurse leans back to read the address once again before smiling and overlooking the crowd.

Hurse: You guys must be Hellkat’s brothers. I can see she was the pick of the litter.

Without warning he’s grabbed by his shirt and dragged into the club by the overpowering men with a clear obsession for sadomasochism. The camera cuts to a shaky camcorder inside of the club. It fights to remain steady and provide a view of Hurse being thrown around like a ragdoll on the dance floor. A particularly strong gentlemen wearing assless chaps is leading Hurse back and forth in a very awkward dance, well, awkward for Hurse at least.

The show returns live to the ring where Robin’s face is so overwhelmed with emotion that it’s frozen. She has no idea how to react, her eyes wider than dinner saucers over the realization that Hurse tried to cheat on her. No matter how much Hurse tries to explain it fixes absolutely nothing.

She lowers her head in a state of outright shock, trying to come to grips with it. Hurse rips some of the flowers off the arch and then begins to scream threatening words at an unconcerned Porno Lad. Hellkat shrugs her shoulders towards the fans who question her about what just unfolded. She explains that she had no idea who wrote Hurse that misleading note.

Porno Lad: That’s strange, I have no idea how that footage got in there, but as the wedding planner I fully intend to get to the bottom of it.

Robin’s hands are slowly inching towards Hurse’s terrified neck. Exeter doesn’t back up his brother, he just shakes his head in moral outrage.

Porno Lad: But give me a second chance. I’ll fix EVERYTHING, starting with this video. I think we’ve got the right one loaded up, let’s play it!

Again he motions to the titantron which comes to life with images of an intoxicated Robin Brooks. Her eyes are clouded over and her head sways from side to side. She tries to remain upright in her booth but almost falls forward onto the table containing dozens of empty glasses and bottles. The camera watches from a nearby potted plant.

Robin: Wow, I can’t remember the last time I was this tipsy.

She puts the back of her palm to her forehead, hoping that it somehow sobers her up.

Brooks: But this was fun, yeeeep, it was a whole lotta fun.

The hammered Black Widow falls elbows first to the table top.

Robin: I never get to have an adult, meaningful evening with Steven. He ruins EVERYTHING! If I take him to a movie he keeps talking through the whole thing comparing it to Killer Clowns from Outer Space. That’s not even considered a real movie ya know? He’s still a child in a grown man’s body. And let me tell ya something, he’s not grown in the places it counts.

As Hurse watches this video he feels increasingly self conscious, especially as the crowd starts a chant of “baby dick.”

Brooks: You know, I don’t think I should drive home, not that I even want to go home with Hurse waiting up for me. There’s no telling what he did to our house this time. I swear, I can’t leave him home alone, he’s worse than that Machaly kid. I thought I was getting married, not adopting a baby.

She falls back in the booth, almost unconscious at this point with fluttering eyes. Her company slides a little closer, wrapping his arm around the back of Robin’s neck to support her head and holding a drink to her lips.

Exeter: I completely understand where your going with this.

The crowd live inside of the Manhattan Center is screaming as Hurse’s gaze transfers to his best man. The video continues.

James: We all need to get away from my brother now and then. The guy has so many pop culture references it makes me think he didn’t get a SINGLE date in high-school. He can just be really pathetic at times. That’s why we have to get together more often like this, blow off some steam and talk. It’s so nice to be able to talk to an adult for a change.

He tilts back her head and pours some more alcohol down her throat. Robin laughs as she slams her fist weakly on the table.

Robin: That’s right, that’s so F’ING right. I so enjoy talking to you, James, it’s like you get me…

Exeter nods for several moments before finally moving in and locking lips with the Black Widow, the two making out in their intoxicated conditions before another word can be uttered. Finally Robin pulls away and throws her arms in the air.

Robin: WOOOOO, I’m so DRUNK!

Once again the show returns live where Porno Lad has his nails in his teeth, acting like he just made a boo-boo and truly dreads the repercussions. It doesn’t take long for Hurse to lunge from the pulpit and drop right on top of his brother. He wraps his hands around James’ throat, strangling him violently. As Exeter’s head bobs he forces out his words.

Exeter: It…was….just….a….mal….func…tion.

Exeter gets in the pleas between gasps for air, the crowd screaming much like Robin. She has fallen to her knees, tears streaming down her eyes, her special night ruined just like her relationship with Hurse. She is in a despondent state, brought to her knees by the horror. That’s before her attention turns towards Hellkat, finding someone that she can pin all the blame on.

Brooks: This is YOUR fault, YOU caused this.

She throws down her bouquet in a huff, hikes up her dress and dashes at the ropes. It doesn’t take long for Hellkat to realize what Robin has in mind, stepping out from behind her husband and meeting the Black Widow in the isle way. They immediately come to blows, trading shots to a riotous reaction from the crowd.

Hurse is still choking the life out of Exeter no matter how many people try to pull him off.

At this point the fans are in an absolute frenzy, Porno Lad dropping the act and bowing gracefully.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Coming soon to DVD

JOHNNY KINGDOM © VS. PAT EVANS

The show comes back live while the crowd stews with anticipation. After what has been a wild night they now prepare themselves for the ultimate pay off, yet another World Heavyweight Title match.

Mark: Ladies and gentlemen, with no hyperbole whatsoever I must say that tonight has been the most HISTORIC Riot! ever. Not only did we just witness a stunning turn of events during the Robin & Hurse wedding, but…

Susie: That wedding was better than anything I’ve seen on Jerry Springer. Only there weren’t as many hired hill folk.

Comeau: Yeah, yeah, yeah. We also saw the World Championship change hands, Christian Savior finally loosing the World Title in shocking fashion to Johnny Kingdom then leaving the arena in despair. But we’re not through, because Evans invoked his number one contender opportunity to face Kingdom for the title right this second. I can’t remember the last time we’ve had a World Title match on Riot!, let alone TWO of them.

“Outsider” streams through the speakers and riles the fans into a frenzy. Their anger escalates at the image of Pat Evans, joined at the hip by Dan Douglas, the duo emerging onto the stage. Evans’ eyes are focused and his face is emotionless, his mind wrapped around the World Title, and ONLY the World Title. Dan on the other hand, spends a little time jaw jacking with the crowd, again swearing that the Conspiracy will leave with the championship. Judging by Pat’s fanatical level of focus that promise may be fulfilled tonight. Evans slides into the ring with Dan moving up the stairs, still baiting the audience with his verbal jabs.

Mark: Dan Douglas accompanying the Number One Contender. It’s a big gamble for Evans to use his title shot tonight, he’s jeopardizing the opportunity to main event Paranoia VI. But I guess in his mind it’s a foregone conclusion that he’ll walk into the biggest event of the year as the World Champion.

Moore: I have fantasies like that too, but it doesn’t involve me going anywhere with the World Title other than the bedroom, wink, wink.

Comeau: You don’t have to say “wink, wink” for me to get the insinuation. Also of interest is the fact that this is Pat Evans’ FIRST shot at the World Heavyweight title, which will further motivate him, as if he needed any more motivation.

Pat rocks from side to side with palms wedged to his knees, anxious for perhaps the biggest match of his career. Douglas hypes up the match even more, whispering into Evans’ ear and making a number of violent hand gestures, not only telling, but showing what he wants done to Kingdom. Evans doesn’t listen, his mind entirely focused on one thing, winning the championship.

WAKE UP

The war torn hero, the savior of the World Heavyweight Championship, is ushered forth to a resounding wave of cheers. Kingdom makes his way to the stage with an abnormally slow pace, obviously still exhausted from his earlier encounter with one Christian Savior. Although he tries to hide the wounds of that previous war, there is no masking the bruises on his sternum and the sweat trickling down his sore muscles. Nevertheless he moves down the ramp with the World Championship proudly placed over his shoulder. The crowd is solidly behind him as he moves up the steps to the apron, locking eyes with his determined challenger.

Comeau: Here comes the man who made history. Never before has the World Title changed hands on an episode of Riot! before tonight, but Kingdom altered all that when he defeated Savior. This is the third championship reign for Johnny Kingdom, but will it be a short lived one?

Moore: Titles don’t have long life-spans?

Mark: Again, we’re going to have to work on this whole concept of taking me literally. And Johnny is going to have to keep eyes in the back of his head after Douglas GUARANTEED the title would return to the Conspiracy.

The crowd is all hyped up, much like the competitors involved. Despite Johnny’s exhaustion from his previous match with Christian, and Evans’ weariness after his earlier issues with Nathan Creed, both men are more than game for this match. Johnny makes this clear the moment he hands over the World Title to the official and ducks an attempted lariat from Evans.

The bell sounds as Kingdom spins around and lights up the challenger with right hands followed by a boot to the ribs. Johnny pulls Pat’s head forward into a front chancery, setting for the Exodus Finale.

Mark: And we’re underway, whoa, whoa, Kingdom’s got Pat in position for the brainbuster DDT!

Susie: This is as hard to keep up with as Speedy Gonzalez, or any other Mexican stereotype.

Comeau: Your hardly one to talk about stereotypes.

Just before the Exodus Finale can be delivered, Evans drops to his knees and grabs Kingdom’s ankle. He lifts up on it, tripping Kingdom over onto his back and applying the ankle lock. An exhausted Kingdom is too tired to block the hold, being rolled to his chest as his ankle is torn to shreds.

Comeau: The dreaded ankle lock applied right from the get go. Kingdom too drained from his previous match to put up much of a struggle against it. Are we going to see Johnny tap, will we see ANOTHER title change?

Moore: I’m not Johnny Carson, I don’t have the ability to see into the future. But I can laugh like Ed McMahon.

Mark: That literally not a skill at all.

Hope has almost instantaneously evaporated as Evans continues to rip at the ankle with all the mite of his upper body. That’s until Kingdom ducks his head and rolls forward, flipping Pat over and robbing him of the opportunity to win the title.

The Number One Contender ends up rolling forward as well, ending up directly on his feet. He spins around with a sense of urgency, Kingdom charging in for a lariat and being caught across the sternum. Pat throws the Champion up into the air, ready to deliver the Spinal Tap.

Just before the back-breaker could connect Kingdom transitions in mid-air, swinging around behind the arm that clutched his sternum. Pat tumbles forward to his chest, Kingdom landing beside him and applying the crossface.

Comeau: The Lesson in Leadership now established. The crossface draining Evans and doing so quickly. This could be the fastest World Title match in IWC history.

Evans lifts his palm into the air, letting it hover above the ring in anticipation of a submission. The referee drops down, watching the hand closely, ready to signify that Johnny has retained the World Championship.

Douglas cannot stand to watch, prompting him to hop onto the apron, shouting furiously at the official to break the illegal choke-hold. Referee Princeton hops between the ring and Douglas, preventing him from getting physically involved.

It’s right at this moment that Evans gets to his knee and rolls back. He pushes Kingdom onto his back with Evans coming down spine first across his chest. He twists his body and frees himself from the crossface before jumping to his feet and snatching Johnny’s ankle.

The crowd just begins to express their despair before Kingdom bends his knees, wedges his feet to Evans’ sternum and kicks him backwards. Evans is sent crashing back first right into the distracted Princeton, causing him to unintentionally be driven into the President. Both the referee and Douglas knock heads before Dan is launched from the apron and sent crashing to the mats.

Comeau: Douglas has been taken out!

Moore: That’s why he should travel around in the safety of a pope-mobile.

The fans react more than favorably at the image of Douglas sprawled across the mats, wide eyed and borderline unconscious. The official is also laid out, twitching on the ring while Evans rushes at the seated Kingdom. Johnny suddenly catches Pat with a small package, rolling him onto the back of his shoulders with the crowd screaming.

Mark: Johnny’s got the pin but referee Princeton has been debilitated, meaning there’s no one to make the count.

Susie: I’ll do it, if I don’t have to wear that hideous Where’s Waldo shirt, and if I can remember how to count to three.

Comeau: Don’t strain yourself, Susie.

Kingdom finally lets go once he realizes that there is no official to make the count. He sits up in dejection, staring at the unconscious Princeton then turning towards a rising Evans. Pat charges in only to have Kingdom dive into a headbunt right into the ribs.

All the air is knocked from Pat’s lungs, causing him to double over and grunt from the pain. It’s at this point that Johnny lunges to his feet and nails a vicious European Uppercut in the process. The blow knocks Evans backwards, swinging his arms to remain upright.

Kingdom now turns and bolts backwards into the cables, bouncing off and coming back in at Evans who suddenly counters with a thrust kick. His ankle is caught right before the foot could connect with his jaw. Kingdom pushes down the leg and sends Evans spinning around in a circle.

He turns right into a kick to the gut as Kingdom once again sets up for the Exodus Finale. Evans spins his body though, ending up wedging his head under Johnny’s armpit and hoisting him into a spinning Olympic Slam. Kingdom slips off the shoulders of the technical tyrant and counters into an arm drag.

Mark: These guys going back and forth in what of the most frantic World Title matches I’ve ever seen. They want this to end quickly to spare their already tired bodies. The longer this match goes the worse it is for both of them.

Moore: And the more bored I get. Thank God I brought my Treasure Troll dolls, at the very least I can practice my hair styling.

A shocked Evans rolls across the canvas to his feet while Johnny sits up on the canvas. The moment Kingdom reaches this seated base, Evans barrels at him and nails a violent, nose shattering knee strike. A groan emanates from the fans as the blow echoes throughout the arena.

Evans dives desperately into the cover, hooking both legs as he feels that now may be his opportunity to win the championship that has evaded him for so long. Unfortunately for Evans, Princeton is still laid out and isn’t budging. But to Pat’s relief another referee is already on his way to the ring, Alex Ingelson.

Comeau: Oh no, Ingelson on his way out here.

Moore: Yeah, he’s way too pale, or as the British say, limey.

Mark: Alex is in the Conspiracy’s back pocket, this has just went from bad to worse for the Team Leader.

Evans is still anxiously hooking the legs as Alex slips under the ropes and makes the count. The sound of his palm slapping canvas is almost drowned out by the boos from the fans.

1

2

Kingdom launches his shoulder from the ring, beating the fast count of Ingelson. The kick out results in Evans furiously gazing at the Conspiracy’s privately own referee.

Evans: You call that a fast count?

Pat rises anxiously to his feet and begins to club the crawling Kingdom over his back. He now goes for the submission that has proved beneficial in the past, hooking up Johnny’s arms and trying to apply the Time to Go to Sleep. The fans can’t even catch their breathe for a moment as yet another signature move is employed.

Just before he can get the hold fully established, Johnny rises to his feet and charges at the cables, dragging the Challenger along behind. He bends forward and lunges through the ropes, causing Evans to be caught throat first against the top cable.

Evans grabs at his throat and staggers backwards before Johnny spins around rushing out of the corner. That’s when he caught and flipped over into an exploder suplex. Evans ends up on top of the Team Leader, hooking his leg.

Mark: This could be it, especially if Ingelson employs another fast count, the no good son of a bit…

Moore: If you don’t have something nice to say about someone, then you shouldn’t say it at all.

Evans is stretched over Kingdom’s chest as Alex makes an extremely fast count, the crowd screaming for the Champion to kick out.

1

2

To the shock of everyone, Johnny kicks out, beating the accelerated count. Instead of slamming his palm now Ingelson is driving his fists into the canvas, throwing a temper tantrum like a five year old who just lost his Stretch Armstrong doll.

Evans is equally as beside himself, perhaps questioning how he can possibly put away Kingdom. Nevertheless he turns and places Johnny in a modified side headlock, raining down right hands into his face. The closed fists connect one after another to Kingdom’s already injured cranium.

Pat continues to pick up where Christian left off earlier in the night, dragging Johnny around to his knees and blasting him repeatedly to the skull with blatantly closed fists. He now drives his elbow down into the top of Johnny’s skull then steps back for another right hand.

This time the knuckles fail to connect with skull because Kingdom catches the inbound fist. Evans tries to struggle free as Johnny valiantly struggles his way to his feet, standing up and swinging around behind the arm. The crowd is going nuts as Kingdom has Evans yet again in position for the Lesson in Leadership.

Comeau: Kingdom coming back to life and going for the crossface.

Susie: Are you implying that Johnny is Jesus? He doesn’t even have the facial hair, and he’s not friends with Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny.

Before the submission can be established Evans twists his back, wedging it to Kingdom’s and then lifts him up into the air. The fans are shocked as Pat rushes forward going for his version of the crucifix powerbomb. He is unsuccessful in finishing off the Champion though, when Johnny squirms free and lands on his feet behind his opposition.

Evans spins around and charges at his opposition’s backside only to have Kingdom connect with a roaring elbow. The forearm nails Evans right under the jaw and sends him spinning around looking as comatose as Rip Van Winkle.

Somehow Evans is still upright long enough for Kingdom to go for a SECOND roaring elbow. This time it meets nothing but thin air, Evans ducking out of the way then spinning around into a hard heel kick directly to the back of Johnny’s head.

Kingdom is bent forward with Pat standing at his side but quickly transitioning around in front of him. He’s pulled into a powerbomb position, the Challenger determined to hit the crucifix bomb.

Comeau: Kingdom’s title reign about to be ended!

Just as Evans becomes confident Kingdom stands up, leaving Pat hanging upside down from his back then delivers the emerald fushion. The back of Pat’s skull is driven violently into the canvas amongst a loud roar from the audience.

Comeau: What a counter! Johnny nailing the emerald fushion and perhaps retaining his World Title in the process.

Johnny sluggishly rolls into the cover, wedging his forearm into Pat’s face. Ingelson watches for a few moments, not knowing what to do before finally falling to his knees and commencing with a slow three count.

1

2

Pat is given more than enough time to shoot his arm from the canvas, kicking out and saving his title ambitions. The Team Leader’s stare could punch a hole through Ingelson, who begins to claim that he suffers from carpel tunnel syndrome. Johnny isn’t buying it as he rises to his feet and grabs Alex’s striped shirt, pushing him backwards into the ropes.

Ingelson tries to curl up in the fetal position as Johnny cocks back his fist to make him pay for all his past transgressions. Before he can connect with even a single shot, Evans staggers up behind him. This prompts Kingdom to connect with a blatant mule kick to the testicles.

Pat is doubled over, roaring in pain and reaching for his crotch before Kingdom places him in the front chancery.

Comeau: The Exodus Finale on the way and Kingdom moments from retaining the title.

Susie: That better be true this time. There’s only so many times I can give my Treasure Trolls dreadlocks.

The fans clamor around the barricades, anxious to be close to this moment, Kingdom ready to finish off yet another member of the Conspiracy with the Exodus Finale. He begins to lift when Ingelson clubs Kingdom directly over his back.

Although the blow inflicts no pain it leaves Johnny agitated enough to break the front chancery and slowly spin around. Now Alex is swearing that his strike was an involuntary muscle twitch but once again Kingdom is far too intelligent to fall for it.

However, this does provide the crucial distraction needed for Evans to hook Johnny’s arm from behind and hoist him into the Spinal Tap. Kingdom is slammed kidneys first across Pat’s raised knee, the crowd reacting like they just witnessed a thousand kittens being drowned by Hitler.

Mark: Naaaaahhh, the Spinal Tap connecting.

Susie: CHICKEN FINGERS!

Johnny writhes in pain while Evans kneels beside him, catching his breathe before finally falling into the lateral press.

Alex licks his palm, drops to his knees and makes a regular three count in order to truly bask in this moment.

1

2

3!

NEW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT…nooo! Kingdom lobs his shoulder free from the canvas, preventing defeat by a mere fraction of a second.

Comeau: And Kingdom kicked out, he kicked out, he kicked out of the Spinal Tap!

Moore: Hmmm, maybe I can give them Mohawks.

The fans are jumping for joy and slapping the barricades, astonished by Johnny’s persistence. Evans rolls to his knees with his palms cupped over his face, infuriated that the World Championship is not in his possession. It’s at this point he’s given something else to be concerned with though, as a familiar figure marches down the ramp.

With steel pipe in hand, Nathan Creed storms down the ramp with a fiery intensity in his eyes.

Mark: I guess Creed didn’t take Orlando’s advise because he’s on his way out here and he’s got that pipe in hand.

Moore: Is he going to fix the plumbing or something? I hope so, because I haven’t gotten my seat to flush in ages.

Once again the crowd receives Creed with a lukewarm reception as he continues towards the ring, pipe tightly clutched in hand and ready to meet Evans’ skull for a second time. The former Submission Champion is stunned by the approaching Creed, the Future employing eye for an eye justice.

In order to keep Creed from ruining his title match, Evans desperately grabs Ingelson’s shirt and demands that he do something. The cowardly Alex bucks up and forms a barrier between Creed and the ring. Nathan rises onto the apron as Alex starts in with idle threats.

Comeau: I think Alex Ingelson is the last person who should try to intimidate Creed.

Nathan stares past Alex straight into the face of his snarling rival, his grip tightening on the pipe. He begins to slide into the ring and cost Evans everything that Pat stole from him, when the steel pipe in his hand is grabbed by a recovered Douglas.

Dan desperately tries to pull the steel free from Creed’s palm and save his Conspiracy stable-mate but nothing will break Nathan’s grasp on the pipe. Therefore Nathan turns away from the ring and struggles with Dan over the foreign weapon that has been the source of much controversy as of late. Dan keeps tugging on it from his place on the mats while Creed pulls up on the weapon from his stance on the apron.

Evans moves a little quicker at this step, realizing that he only has a small window of opportunity to capture the title. He grabs Kingdom around the neck, slowly leading him up to his feet before the Champion shoves his arms away and connects with a step up enzugari right to the back of the head.

The sound of the collision echoes throughout the arena and the blow sends Evans tumbling to a crawling base. An exhausted Kingdom stands up realizing that Evans is in perfect position for his combination finisher. He rushes backwards into the ropes, unaware of Nathan’s presence on the apron until Creed rips the pipe out of Douglas’ palm and turns to use it.

A well placed boot to Douglas’ face has sent the President tumbling to the mats and left Creed with an even greater bloodlust than ever. So the second that Kingdom’s back hits Creed’s side he instinctively swings the pipe directly into the Team Leader’s skull.

Comeau: Ahhh….

Kingdom collapses to his knees as Nathan watches on. It suddenly dawns on him that he took out the Champion instead of the Challenger, but is unclear on rather he should feel any type of remorse.

Mark: Nathan’s done it again, he’s attacked Kingdom with the steel pipe.

Creed bats his eyes awkwardly, his face a mask of mixed emotions. The full gravity of his actions does not set in until the pipe is snatched out of his hand and he’s pulled down from the apron by his long time friend. Orlando is right in Creed’s face, flipping out over what he just witnessed.

Orlando: What the hell is wrong with you? I told you this would happen!

A somewhat coherent Kingdom turns just in time to spot Orlando pointing to the pipe in his hand then at the back of the Team Leader’s head. These gestures are obviously misconstrued by Kingdom, who almost froths at the mouth as he grabs the ropes and leads himself up to his feet.

Orlando stops shouting at his partner long enough to feel the gaze of his long time rival settled upon him. Cruze glances at Johnny then down at the pipe in his hand before shaking his head, pleading innocence.

Kingdom: I knew you were in on it….

A string of four letter obscenities follow that are too foul to repeat as Johnny staggers towards the center of the ring. In the midst of this chaos nobody notices the figure hopping the barricade and sliding into the ring. Christian Savior crouches behind an unsuspecting Team Leader.

Mark: What is he doing here!?!

Moore: Maybe he wants to learn how to style Treasure Troll hair as good as I can.

Screams and words of warning bombard Kingdom’s ears but his head is still ringing from that pipe shot. He slowly turns back towards Evans who is seated in a far corner recovering, having no clue that his attention should be on someone else. Savior charges across the ring and almost shatters every rib in Kingdom’s abdomen with a spear.

Comeau: Now he’s hit the Blaze of Glory, he’s all but ensured Evans will win the World Title.

Instead of vacating the ring after his interference, Savior drops down into the lateral press. He urgently screams at Ingelson, who looks towards Douglas for advice. From the outside of the ring Dan orders Alex to just make the count.

Despite the wails of the fans and the pleas for Ingelson not to do it he ultimately fulfills his job obligations

1

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3

The Manhattan Center teems with the shock of an astonished audience. Through amazed eyes they watch the newly anointed World Champion thrust his arms high in victory, Christian Savior being reunited with his title in the same night he lost it.

Mark: How is this legal? How?

Susie: I may impersonate a lawyer so people will think I’m smart, but I don’t know the law.

Comeau: On the very night he looses the World Championship, Christian sneaks his way back to title prominence. I still don’t get how this is feasible under the rules and regulations of the IWC.

Ingelson hands the World Championship to Savior wearing his gold a crazed smile as well. He throws the belt over his shoulder and leans his cheek against it, his tongue licking the golden plate. The bickering Creed and Cruze have no idea what happened until Savior’s entrance music strikes their ears. Simultaneously their stunned faces twist towards the ring, just as shocked as the audience by what they’re witnessing.

Douglas has slipped through the ropes into the ring, clapping his hands with a prideful smile. Unfortunately the Conspiracy is not unified in their support, Evans shivering with rage.

Douglas: I SAID the Conspiracy would leave with the World Title tonight.

Savior rises to his feet and lifts the championship aloft, making sure that the Icon and the Future can see him celebrating with the title. They have no idea how to react, much like Evans who is still in disbelief that Savior has stolen the World Title right out from under him.

Mark: Dan made good on his guarantee in the most reprehensible fashion possible. Christian has regained the World Title when he wasn’t even the legal participant in this match.

Kingdom continues to grip at his mid-section, roaring from the pain coursing through his body. He has yet to realize that Savior has snuck in and reclaimed the title. Orlando and Nathan are rooted to the mats, unable to bring themselves to ruin this moment, unsure of how to even react.

Comeau: An absolutely shocking end to a shocking night. You had better believe there will be hell to pay for this.

Susie: I bet Savior won’t be getting his allowance this week.

The malicious grin on Savior’s face widens as he comes eye to eye with Evans. Needless to say Pat isn’t smiling.

FADE TO BLACK