OMINOUS

Before the redundant airing of the opening video package and the pre-show flash of the company’s initials, we cut immediately to the interior of the arena, camera zoomed in on the cage.

Mark Comeau: Mark Comeau and Susie Moore here on commentary, and we’re just as confused as you are ladies and gentlemen….

Susie Moore: Perhaps a little more so.

Comeau: The steel cage looming above the ring, symbolic of Steel Cage Elimination at Paranoia VI for the World Championship. At least I hope it’s here for SYMBOLIC purposes and nothing else is planned for it.

The crowd continues to express their excitement over seeing the cage high above their heads, ready to perhaps lower at a moment’s notice. They know fully well that at Paranoia VI it will surround the Conspiracy and the Legends with the World Heavyweight Title hanging in the balance, but toy with the concept that it will also be put to barbaric use here tonight.

Mark: Tonight already getting off to an OMINOUS start….hey, do you see that?

Susie: Yes, the cameraman does have a fat ass, but it’s not polite to point, or jiggle it apparently. I learned that the hard way.

Comeau: No, I’m talking about THAT!

Standing in the rafters, palms wrapped around a railing is a particularly menacing looking individual. A black towel hangs over his skull and drapes his face in shadows, obscuring his identity. The mesh is mere inches from his face, close enough to reach out and touch the steel if he wishes. He doesn’t, instead, much like the cage, he looms suspiciously and motionless above the ring.

Moore: Is that Harvey Firestone?

Mark: I don’t know who that is, and what he’s doing here, or if it’s even worth talking about. What a strange start to one of the biggest nights of the year, our final stop before Paranoia VI!

The man draped in an ebony clothe continues to observe the ring from the eagle’s nest, perhaps ready to swoop down on his prey when the moment presents itself.

OPENING VIDEO

RIOT!

To much hoopla, and the exhilaration of a packed Manhattan crowd “You Know My Name” erupts through the speakers. Without even a moment’s hesitation, Orlando Cruze steps to the stage and overlooks the crowd on his FINAL Riot! appearance. He stops for a moment just to suck it all in, to absorb the electric atmosphere, relishing in his second to last grand entrance.

Comeau: And the wave of momentum growing into a tsunami, because Orlando Cruze is on his way to the ring for the last time here on Riot! I never thought those words would come out of my mouth.

Susie: And I never thought my hair would grow back after I tried to iron it.

Mark: You can’t even work a curling iron?

Moore: A curling iron? What’s that? I just tried to use the same iron I straighten my clothes with. Maybe that’s where I went wrong.

AXL EVERMORE VS. ORLANDO CRUZE

Orlando continues down the ramp, savoring each step he takes, and every chant from the crowd he’s grown to cherish. With a deep breathe he looks up at the cage then lunges to the apron. As he enters the ring and steps up the turnbuckle he never takes his eyes off of the mesh hung high above. He lifts a finger, pointing in its direction and nodding, finding motivation in its presence.

Mark: Orlando looking at the very structure he’ll enter at Paranoia VI, with a chance to END the BIGGEST rivalry in IWC history, by taking out the Conspiracy in his very LAST match. So much emotion here tonight and there will be plenty of it at Paranoia as well.

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

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

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

He heads to the ring with stern focus and an energetic gait as the crowd cheers, then jumps and dives through between the middle and bottom ropes, tumbling forth into a hop, into a standing position at the center of the ring. He jogs to a corner, climbs it and thrusts his arms up and points to himself again, shouting "A...X...L!" as the crowd chants along. He hops down from the corner, takes his jacket and shades off, putting the shades in a jacket pocket, and draping the jacket over a corner post, then takes his bandanna off and throws it into the audience. Axl then stands at the ready, alternating between hopping place and standing in a crouch.

Comeau: Last week Axl and Orlando involved in an AMAZING Tag Title match as part of that gauntlet. It’s just a shame their efforts to put on a classic was overshadowed by the reprehensible fashion in which Infection won the Tag Titles.

Susie: I like Infection better as Miguel and Tito. I still sent them an invitation to my next Tea Party, but I demanded they wear their riot costumes and talk with generic Spanish accents. OOOOLAY!

Mark: Terrific. Anyway, this has to be considered a HUGE honor for Evermore, wrestling Orlando on his last night on Riot!, I can’t wait to see the match these two produce on this historic evening.

The bell chimes in the background as Evermore and Orlando move face to face, hands extended in one another’s directions. In an honorable act they shake hands much to the delight of the audience.

Comeau: Just like two weeks ago on Riot!, Orlando Cruze and Axl Evermore shaking hands before this match. These guys have got a load of respect for one another.

Susie: And I think Axl’s partner has blown his load on a lot….

Mark: Susie, Susie, Susie, we do not want to talk about how you spent your Thursday nights.

After the handshake is broken both men step back and begin to circle one another. Their eyes are fiercely locked, all business at this point. They lunge forward almost immediately with Orlando trapping Evermore’s arm and transitioning behind his back, applying a textbook hammerlock.

Evermore bends forward to escape before being caught around the neck and flipped over into a side headlock takedown. The moment Axl’s back hits the floor he reaches up with his legs, wrapping them around Cruze’s head, pulling him down into the head scissors.

Cruze nips up out of the submission to his feet and turns back towards a rising Evermore, once again grabbing him around the neck and pulling him over into a side headlock takedown. Axl is on the canvas struggling for only a few moments before he rolls away from the Icon and pulls him over his chest onto the back of Cruze’s shoulders.

Orlando breaks the hold, falling to his knees and reaching out, grabbing hold of Evermore’s wrist. He swings around under it and steps behind the now kneeling Axl, applying a hammerlock.

Comeau: Some quick exchanges going right BACK to the hammerlock for Orlando.

Evermore grits his teeth, his arm being dissected at the hands of the retiring Icon. Before he can be forced into submission though, Axl gets to his feet, reaches back with his arm and wraps it around Cruze’s neck, trying to fall to his seat and hit the stunner.

Mark: Look at this….

Susie: Sorry, I forgot to wear underwear again.

Comeau: That’s not what I’m talking about. Axl going for the Fully Loaded Stunner!

Before he can counter, Orlando breaks his hammerlock and pushes Evermore forward into the cage. The Icon has availed himself of the stunner and now bends forward, waiting to catch the inbound Axl. The Sex & Violence member bounces from the cables, turns his back on the stooped over Cruze and falls spine against spine. He flips backwards off of Cruze’s back and lands on his feet right behind his opponent.

Orlando quickly turns around only to be popped under the jaw with a jumping back heel kick. Evermore lands on his feet after delivering the blow while Orlando is sent staggering backwards into the ropes, bouncing off then launching himself forward into a diving European Uppercut.

The uppercut connects and knocks Axl from his feet, sending both men down to the canvas.

Mark: What an exchange leading up to that diving European Uppercut!

Susie: What about that uppercut is European? Just tell me. It doesn’t have a snooty accent and it’s not even going around repeating the word “Bollocks” over and over again. I can’t tell you how many Europeans have asked to put their bollocks in my….

Comeau: Again, please skim on the details.

Evermore flops like a fish on the canvas, grabbing at his swollen jaw. All the while Orlando stands up, throwing a fist into the air and getting the crowd rallied behind him. He quickly steps in and grabs Evermore around the waist, dead lifting him from the canvas and going for a side suplex.

Somehow Axl counters though, twisting upside down, wrapping his legs around Cruze’s neck then flipping him over into a hurricarana. Cruze crashes across his back in a huff, stunned by that last maneuver. He rushes towards his feet nevertheless, and charges at Evermore who rolls towards him, causing the Icon to have to leap over his opponent.

He continues forward into the opposite cables, bouncing off and coming back in at Evermore who lunges to his feet then leap frogs his opposition. Cruze rushes into the other ropes, ricocheting off towards Axl who lunges into the air and meets Cruze with a dropkick on the button.

Somehow the Icon maintains his footing, stumbling backwards into the ropes once more and bouncing off. Once again he launches himself forward into a diving European Uppercut only for Axl to duck down out of the way. As a result Cruze crashes across the canvas and rolls to the outside of the ring.

Mark: Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.

Moore: What if someone fools you a hundred times with the same trick. I still haven’t figured out how this whole peak-a-boo thing works, scares the hell out of me every time.

Mark: Axl not falling for that rebound diving Euro Uppercut a second time. And this action is really picking up.

Evermore rolls to the outside of the ring and approaches a doubled over Cruze, spinning him around into a chop across the sternum. A right hand nails him to the jaw before delivering another chop to the chest. He hits the same punch, chop combination a third time and then goes for a spinning back kick to the ribs.

Orlando catches the inbound boot foot though right before it could connect with his ribs and then pushes it down. Unfortunately for Cruze the momentum of the push sends Axl into a full spin, jumping into the air to nail the Icon with a spinning heel kick to the temple.

The Icon ducks Axl’s leg and then catches him by the hair and tights, rushing him at the ring and rolling him in under the ropes. Evermore rolls a few inches into the squared circle while Orlando slides in himself and rushes at this opposition.

He runs right into the raised boots of Evermore, Axl kicking him off backwards into the ropes. Cruze stumbles back first into the cables, bouncing off and coming back in at Evermore who raises his feet for a monkey toss. That’s when Cruze actually jumps over the raised feet and cartwheels across the canvas.

Mark: Look at the agility on Orlando’s behalf, even at the end of his career he’s still busting out some dazzling new stuff.

Susie: I like new things, especially the boxes they come in. I make them into rocket ships to the moon.

Orlando has landed gracefully on his feet while Evermore nips up to a standing base then turns into a roaring European Uppercut from the Icon. Axl ducks the inbound arm of his opponent though, hooking it and then hooking the other one, pulling him down into a backslide pin.

To a loud roar Cruze kicks out, rolling backwards onto his feet. He just stands up when Evermore jumps into the air and nails him right to the face with a pump kick.

Orlando collapses to his back with Axl turning and falling into the lateral press.

Once again Orlando kicks out, his eyes fluttering as he rolls instinctively towards his feet. The moment he gets up he’s taken by the back of the head and pulled down face first into the raised knee of his opposition. His skull bounces off of Axl’s kneecap, sending him reeling back first into the turnbuckle.

He falls against it for support, looking incredibly dazed. Evermore now comes charging in only to run right into a boot square on the jaw, the blow sending him stumbling towards the center of the ring. He swings his arms to remain upright while Orlando charges out of the corner straight into an overhead release belly to belly.

Mark: What a suplex from Evermore, he may just have Cruze’s number.

Moore: So do I, but he never responds to those sexy messages I leave on his answering machine.

An exasperated Evermore approaches Cruze, takes him around the jaw and leads him towards his feet. A knee is launched into his mid-section doubling him over before both of his arms are hooked. Axl is setting up for the Flipside already.

However, Cruze still has the energy to fight and as his adrenaline starts flowing he pushes Evermore backwards across the ring, trying to counter. That’s when Axl falls back, pulling Cruze down with him thanks to still having the arms hooked. The crowd is screaming as Orlando rolls backwards flipping Orlando over top of him to his seat. Axl rolls back over Cruze’s shoulder and ends up standing in front of the seated Icon, he now rushes forward into a running knee strike.

The kneecap connects right against Orlando’s face, almost shattering the skull. Evermore twists around and falls into the lateral press yet again.

Somehow Cruze has the energy within to launch his shoulder from the ring, kicking out once more.

Mark: Evermore with another nearfall over the Icon in what has been a very frantic, fast paced, exhilarating singles bout thus far. Axl clearly not letting Orlando retire in peace.

Susie: Instead he’ll leave in pieces, hahahahaha, Ohhhhh what a wonderful play on words.

A somewhat winded Evermore rises to his feet, bounces off of the cables and then lunges into the air. He comes down knee first directly into Orlando’s face, almost cracking the nose. Orlando sits up grabbing at the bridge of his nose before he’s finding himself trapped in the dragon sleeper. One of his arms are also hooked to prevent him from fighting back against this submission.

Mark: Smart move by Evermore, he’s got Orlando on the ground and he’s going to keep him there. After softening the Icon up this may be just the right time to go for the submission.

Susie: And this will be just the right time for me to go to the bathroom. I think I’m having my bi-monthly bowel movement.

Several of the fans are slapping the barricade in support of Orlando, despite Axl’s home field advantage.

Fans: ORLANDO, ORLANDO, ORLANDO.

The energy from the crowd fuels the Icon’s adrenaline, getting his heart pumping and his blood flowing. He tries to stand up despite the air being deprived to his brain by the dragon sleeper. A grunt emits from Axl as he exerts even more pressure on the hold, but nothing will keep the retiring Icon down.

He slowly ascends towards his feet, beginning to stand up as Axl tries his best to keep him grounded. His best doesn’t match the will of the Icon, who finally reaches an upright base then reaches back with his free hand, grabbing Evermore’s bangs.

Cruze drops to his knees and uses the grasp on the hair to flip Evermore over into almost a modified snapmare. Axl crashes across the canvas but quickly rolls across it to his feet as Orlando barrels in his direction. That’s when Evermore spins around and connects with a deep lariat right to Cruze’s throat, taking him right back down to the canvas.

Evermore falls to his knees in the process, hands on his hips, catching his breathe.

Comeau: Axl seemingly has an answer for everything Orlando is throwing at him. I imagine he spent some time studying Orlando’s previous matches in preparation for this one.

Moore: Studying in scary, isn’t it hard enough learning how to open a book properly? It’s ridiculous that they actually expect you to read it after going through all that.

With his chest heaving and his muscles aching, Evermore gets to his feet, plants his foot to Orlando’s face then lunges into the air. He comes down with a big stomp right between the Icon’s eyes, sending the multiple time World Champion into convulsions.

Orlando writhes across the canvas, eventually ending up on his knees where he palms his face with both hands. Axl quickly moves in behind him and once again starts to set up for the dragon sleeper. Before he can get it established though, Orlando reaches back with his hand, hooks it around Evermore’s ankle and trips his opponent onto his back.

Cruze stands up, turns and flips forward into a jackknife cover.

Evermore gets his shoulder up by rolling to his side, pulling Orlando along with him. Axl ends up on top of Orlando’s back, the Icon spread across the canvas on his chest and stomach. In one quick fluid motion Evermore swings his body around and ends up seated on Orlando’s upper back, pulling his head up into the dragon sleeper.

Comeau: Axl going right back to that hold and it is proving effective.

Orlando’s roars can be heard throughout the building as his head is wrenched back at a VIOLENT angle by Evermore. The camel clutch dragon sleeper is paying off in spades, at first. It doesn’t take long for Orlando to find the inner strength to begin rising towards his feet.

The crowd is rallied behind the retiring hero as he gets to a full upright position, Evermore wrapping his legs around his waist and still holding onto the dragon sleeper. As soon as Cruze reaches his feet, Axl all wrapped around his back, he charges in reverse towards one of the turnbuckles.

Axl’s spine is slammed violently against the corner, causing him to break the dragon sleeper before being pulled onto Cruze’s shoulder. Orlando charges out of the corner and delivers a big running powerslam, planting Axl in the very center of the canvas then hooking his leg for the pinfall.

Evermore kicks out this time, sending the crowd into an outright uproar.

Comeau: A brilliant counter by Cruze almost leading to a victory. You can just see how much both men want to…no, no….need to win this match.

Moore: They want this as bad as I want Ben Affleck’s face. I might need extra toilet paper.

An exhausted Orlando ascends to his feet and approaches the now kneeling Evermore. The moment Orlando moves in, Axl dives forward driving a shoulder right into his ribcage. Cruze is doubled over by the blow as Axl painstakingly reaches his feet and delivers a straight uppercut to the legend’s jaw. Orlando is staggered backwards by the blow, trying to shake off the effects at this point before Evermore charges in for the knock out shot.

He runs right into Orlando’s shoulder though, Cruze hoisting him up for the spinebuster. Instead of delivering his trademark spinebuster like he’s done a million times before, he instead finds himself countered once more by his allusive opponent. Evermore pushes himself off of the shoulder at the last second and lands on his feet right in front of a stunned Icon.

Orlando charges forward and receives a spinning back kick to the ribs that doubles him over. He’s now in perfect position for Evermore who steps in and takes him by both arms, hooking them as he sets up for the Flipside. Before he can hit the trademark move, Orlando stands up, trying to back drop him.

Somehow Evermore is able to twist his body and fall sideways off of Cruze’s shoulder, hooking the Icon’s arm in the process. The crowd reacts with shock as Evermore counters Cruze’s counter with an arm drag.

Orlando is flipped over sideways, crashing across the back of his neck and shoulders then rolling to his knees. He’s barely given time to get his head straight before Axl comes charging at him, fist cocked back. Axl charges into his own demise because Cruze stands up, catches Axl against his shoulder and delivers a sensational spinebuster.

Comeau: There’s the SPINEBUSTER, Orlando finally pulling off one of his trademark moves without being countered.

Susie: Just like I can pull off a perfect Barry Manilow impersonation without being sued.

After delivering the move it took so much time and effort to hit, Orlando kneels on the canvas unable to reap the rewards. He brushes the sweat from his brow and rises to his feet, almost loosing his footing in the process.

He now approaches Axl’s head, grabbing hold of it and beginning to fall to his back, looking to employ the triangle choke, a hold taught to him by his former mentor Desolation, a man Evermore is all too familiar with. Orlando is just crossing his legs under Evermore’s throat when the Sex & Violence member surprisingly pulls his head back, grabs the legs of his rival and tries to turn him over into his modified cloverleaf.

Comeau: Axl AGAIN countering one of Orlando’s moves, his most rarely used move in fact.

Before Cruze can be turned over into the hold and surely forced into submission, he rolls to his side, forcing Evermore to flip over and across the canvas. Axl crashes across the ring but rolls over to his feet, pushing past the pain then charging right at his still seated opponent.

To his disbelief, Orlando catches him, pulling Axl down into the small package.

The arena is in shock as Orlando has just pulled out a squeaker of a win.

Comeau: WAIT! The small package DID IT!

Susie: I thought most women didn’t go for small packages.

Mark: Not that type of small package, and that’s NOT what I meant by “did it.” Orlando pulling out a trick we’re not accustomed to seeing out of him, catching Axl with a small package for the pinfall.

Evermore sits on the canvas in a state of utter and complete shock, very disappointed that even after his outstanding performance he was caught with a small package of all maneuvers. Despite having almost all of his trademark moves scouted, Orlando rises to his feet triumphant.

Mark: What a battle between these two phenomenal talents. Only in the IWC will you see such an athletic masterpiece as an opening contest.

Moore: What about at a circus? No wait, they usually put out those terrifying clowns first. Poor little fellas, all forced to squeeze into the same car to save on gas money.

After several moments of beating himself up, Axl rolls to his feet and approaches the Icon. Instead of throwing a fist he extends a palm. There is no delay before Orlando takes the hand and pulls Axl forward into a friendly, sportsmanlike hug.

Susie: Awww, if all those Botox surgeries hadn’t left my face paralyzed, I’m sure I’d be crying right now.

Mark: Orlando in one of his final performances taken to the absolute limit by Axl Evermore.

Cruze now grabs Axl’s wrist and lifts his arm up into the air, pointing in the direction of the Fully Loaded representative. Axl smiles despite the pain and the realization that he came within seconds of defeating Cruze on a number of occasions. After breaking away from Cruze, he does almost a Scott Hall-esque double point in the Icon’s direction then vacates the ring. Orlando is left inside basking in the crowd’s reception before requesting a microphone. It doesn’t take long for him to get what he desires.

Orlando: What you just saw was the DEFINITION of wrestling!

The crowd cheers as a winded Cruze tries to speak, still very out of breathe.

Cruze: I couldn’t have asked for a better opponent on my final Riot! Axl embodies what this industry is all about….

As each point is made he raises another finger.

Orlando: Athleticism, charisma (smiles), dedication, hard-work, and RESPECT. He has RESPECT for this company, RESPECT for those who led the way, and RESPECT for everyone of you. Its you people who honor us by allowing guys like me to come out here and compete for your entertainment. Its you people who make this the best job in the world, and the hardest career to walk away from. And it’s competitors like Axl Evermore who remind me why I love this company, why I love coming out here and tearing down the HOUSE!

The reception from the crowd is as passionate as Orlando’s words.

Cruze: Evermore represents everything that is right and honorable about wrestling, unlike my opponents at Paranoia VI.

The mood in the arena drastically changes at the mere mention of the Conspiracy.

Orlando: The Conspiracy have no RESPECT for me, for you, for ANYTHING. There’s no denying they have talent, but the way they put that talent to use is repulsive. And maybe that’s my biggest problem with them. Here you’ve got guys like Jason Wheeler, Pat Evans and Christian Savior, guys with all the potential in the world, yet they squander it. Instead of using their potential to better this company, they use it to disgrace everything that we’ve worked so hard to honor.

The fans become even more emotional and louder in their expression of hatred for the Conspiracy.

Cruze: Nathan Creed, Robin Brooks, Psycho, Hurse, Daemon Frost, AWOL, Jackson Adams, Axl Evermore, Aurora Rose, Killjoy, Desolation, and yes, even Johnny Kingdom….these are the men and women who built this company, and through their perseverance took it from the gutter to the spotlight. Now all our hard work is being dragged right back down into the pit thanks to the Conspiracy. Thanks to wasted potential and the gross abuse of power.

All those guys and girls I just mentioned have spent their careers bringing legitimacy to the initials “I-W-C,” making this federation RESPECTABLE in the eyes of you fans and in the eyes of our peers. Now the Conspiracy has come along, and through their backstabbing swerves and their “me-me-me” attitudes have DISRESPECTED this company, forever tarnishing its reputation, undoing everything WE worked for.

Obviously Cruze is in far more emotional than physical pain at this point.

Orlando: Seeing what they were doing to this company made me so sick I was about to walk away from it ALL a year ago, but I couldn’t, not in good conscious. No, no, I knew in some small part I was responsible for the existence of the Conspiracy, and if I had a hand in creating them, then I would be the one to destroy them.

Determination clearly shines through Orlando’s fatigued features and gives hope to a troubled audience.

Cruze: So before I walk up that ramp for the final time, before I hang up these ole’ boots FOREVER, I’m going to return RESPECT to the IWC. All the work of AWOL, Frost, Hellkat, Chapel, Sheryl Gray will not have been in vein. People WILL remember their legacy and not the tyranny of Dan Douglas’ administration. People WILL remember when the legends stood UNITED against an Infection and returned honor to the company THEY built. Before I leave the IWC, the scourge of the Conspiracy will be erased and people will once again remember why they love this industry, and why they love THIS company.

The crowd is unanimous in their desire to see Orlando make good on his vow.

Orlando: I may not be at my best physically anymore, I may not be an Icon, but my resolve has never been stronger. I’ve never wanted anything else more in my career, than to walk out of this federation with my head held high, knowing that in my LAST act I ensured this place still has a future.

The Icon drops the microphone, slips through the ropes and starts up the ramp, leaving the ring behind for one of the final times in his career. He stares for several moments at the cage hovering high above the ring, symbolic of the biggest main event in Paranoia history.

UNSPORTSMANLIKE CONDUCT

Smiles stretch across Sallie’s and Krissie’s faces, the two lovely ladies quite enthused by what they’ve just seen. Their eyes twinkle at the images on the monitor inches removed from the desk they’re seated on the edge of.

Krissie: (sing-song voice) I think the Conspiracy are in for some trouble.

Sallie’s smile becomes all the more toothy.

Sallie: Good to see Orlando’s on board, I just hope we can say the same for Creed and Kingdom.

McMorris: Nathan will be ready, you can count on it. And if Kingdom isn’t prepared to work with them, I’m sure he will be after our guest gets through with him.

Besides being toothy, their grins are now sneakier than ever before.

Kingdom: My ears are burning.

The giggles cease and the hair on the back of their necks stand on end. Sallie and Krissie turn timidly towards the Team Leader, Kingdom standing behind them, arms crossed over his chest and defiance brazen in his stance.

Krissie: Oh, Johnny, thanks for knocking.

She motions towards the door leading into their office, but Kingdom doesn’t so much as glance in its direction.

Johnny: Why you wouldn’t be trying to hide something would you?

The lovely ladies share a sensation of unsettlement.

Sallie: Of course not.

Kingdom: Excellent. I mean, if you two were keeping secrets that would make you just as bad as Douglas now wouldn’t it?

Sallie: We’re nothing like Dan.

Johnny: Oh really, hmmm….

Johnny strokes the make believe hair on his chin.

Kingdom: Were you not the one who SWERVED and MANIPULATED me last week?

He employs the quotation fingers on the emphasized words, making his presence all the more unbearable for the co-owners.

Sallie: How so?

Johnny: Oh how blonds are so quick to forget. Remember that little guarantee you made, Sallie, in which you PROMISED me a one on one World Title match at Paranoia, all predicated on the ideal that I’d team with Cruze if given what I earned?

Sallie: I never said anything about it being one on one.

Kingdom: EXACTLY. You hid that little tidbit from me, right? You knew if you told me that I’d be teaming with Cruze AGAIN, and even worse, partnering up with Creed, I never would have agreed to your terms. You purposely obscured facts and USED me for your own gain. I’m no piece of meat, sure I’m succulent and SIZZLIN’ but I will not be treated like a meat-HEAD.

A confused Sallie stands up, swiping her hands through the air.

Sallie: Whoa, whoa, what are you complaining about? I thought you cared more about ending the Conspiracy than adding another World Title reign to your legacy.

Johnny: Both options appease me.

Sallie: Well your getting the best of BOTH worlds.

Kingdom: First of all I’m not Hannah Montana, and the fact that I just made that reference is causing my skin to crawl. Secondly, I’m complex, like one of those whiney teens in the Breakfast Club. But I have a right to be whiney after enduring all these brutal swerves, and being yanked around by Douglas. I didn’t make his life easy, and I’ll be DAMNED if I let you get away with putting me through the ringer too.

Sallie: What’s wrong with you? Don’t you realize we gave you what you wanted.

Johnny: Yeah RIGHT! You forced me into some convoluted tag match with partners I don’t like nor need. Orlando and Nathan will just muck things up, cause me to lose my focus on the title and entertain my desires to slap them around a little. You have no idea how much fun that is.

Sallie: If you do that, you’ll pretty much be throwing away your World Title opportunity.

Krissie: And any shot you have of beating the Conspiracy.

Kingdom glares at the two awkwardly for several seconds before shrugging his shoulders.

Kingdom: It’s the principle of the thing, ladies. I won’t be jerked around any longer, and I intend on doing something about it tonight.

Now the co-owners nervously glance at one another.

Johnny: Oh I can see the wheels spinning in your heads right now, I’ve got you all intrigued. But instead of letting you stew with anticipation, like you did to me last week, I’ll flat out tell you my plans. Just like a cheesy Saturday morning cartoon villain. I’m going to take out the Conspiracy on my own TONIGHT, like I should have been allowed to do at Paranoia VI. OR, I’ll just take out Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed, so that I get the Conspiracy all to myself and prove that I was right all along. I’m the ONLY one talented enough to end the Conspiracy and take back the World Championship.

S&K are stunned by his overbearing arrogance.

Kingdom: One way or another I’ll get what I want, and that’s a one on one World Title match at Paranoia VI.

McMorris: Your not making any sense.

Johnny: I don’t have too. If you girls can get away with it, then so can I. Just think for a moment, unless that’s too straining. If I remove Wheeler, Douglas, and Evans right here on Riot!, there would be no point putting Cruze or Creed in that cage match at Paranoia VI, it’ll just be one on one, me and Christian mono-a-mono.

Sallie: Don’t jeopardize the company by being selfish, Johnny. You need Orlando and Nathan whether you want to team with them or not.

Kingdom: That’s laughable, and I’ll show you why once the bodies start piling up at my feet tonight. Someone’s going down, I’m not letting anything, or anybody stand in my way of being World Champion anymore. Like it or not, I’ll get the one on one match I EARNED for the Championship at Paranoia VI. I’ll get what I want sweet-cheeks, I always do, WHOOO!

At this point Kingdom turns and marches off, leaving the stunned young ladies behind. Obviously they weren’t counting on Johnny’s meltdown. They’re incredibly uncomfortable with what Kingdom has vowed to do here tonight.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Why I never go to the dentist

JASON WHEELER VS. HURSE

OPEN YOUR HEART

The crowd is so vehemently repulsed by these lyrics that they almost spew their half eaten hotdogs into their laps. To make matters all the more appalling, both Jason Wheeler and Christian Savior now stroll to the stage like they were walking through the park. They gingerly approach the squared circle, decked out in their gold. The World and Tag Team Championship belts hang over the shoulders of Savior while the other half of the tag straps is wrapped about Jason’s waist. As the Black Cat slips into the ring, Savior moves around it, approaching the commentary table. Jason now hops to the top rope and takes a seat upon it, lifting his Tag Championship high into the air.

Comeau: Well it seems that we’re being joined by Christian Savior here at commentary. We’ve already heard from Orlando Cruze and Johnny Kingdom in regards to Steel Cage Elimination, I’m sure Christian has A LOT to say even if nobody wants to hear it.

Christian: I’ll pretend for a second you meant that in a loving way.

Christian situates himself into the chair farthest from Comeau, placing the headset over his ears and getting comfortable. The World Heavyweight Title and Tag Championship are both situated on the table before him, just so the crowd gets an idea of just how terrific he truly is.

Susie: Welcome to our announce table, Christian. Can I cut off a lock of your hair?

Savior: No, but what you can do is watch MY brother humiliate yet another IWC legend and send a message.

The co-holder of the tag titles, the Black Cat, limbers up in the ring, preparing himself for a battle against the Master of Control. “House of the Rising Sun” commences through the PA system at this point, Wheeler not having to wait long for his opposition to arrive. Much like Jason, Hurse is also accompanied to the ring by his long time associate Jackson Adams and a disgruntled Katelyn Buehler. The more she struggles to free herself from Adams the tighter his grip becomes. Jackson forces her along to the ring right behind a particularly cocky and confident Hurse. The duo pauses at ringside as Hurse climbs the apron, then a nearby turnbuckle, arms outstretched to his sides and face staring towards the rafters.

Mark: Hurse bringing some back up as well…

Savior: HA! You call THAT back-up? They’re more a hindrance than help.

Comeau: Well the odds even out here although I’m sure that wasn’t Hurse’s intention.

Moore: He just brought Katelyn out here for me to stare at, although when she turns sideways she has a habit of disappearing.

Christian: Which is exactly what will happen to Orlando Cruze after Steel Cage Elimination, he’ll be disgraced, humiliated and in the end he’ll just vanish. Poof, goodbye Icon, hello the age of the Rising Phoenix. Why? Because his ego won’t be able to tolerate failure.

Mark: Oh come on….

Savior: Shush Comeau before I permanently SILENCE you. It’s like I’ve said a thousand times, for Orlando and Kingdom and Creed this is all about EGO. They mask their desires to defeat me behind some ridiculous claim that their “saving” the IWC from the likes of the Conspiracy. Yet the only reason they want us out of here, is because we’ve got actual talent, we show them up on a weekly basis, we’re on the top, they’re on the bottom, and they’re egos can’t handle it.

Mark: That’s utterly ridiculous.

Moore: And wordy.

Hurse has now entered the ring, some of the fans actually cheering for him given his opponent. The Black Cat and the Master of Control begin to circle one another, looking for a lock up. It seems their going to start his match at the same pace as the previous contest between Orlando and Axl. However, as soon as Hurse reaches in, Wheeler side steps him and delivers a clubbing blow over his back.

Hurse is doubled over as Wheeler now delivers a vicious chop across his sternum then takes him by the back of the head. Before the former World Champion can stop it his eyes and forehead are wedged to the top rope and his features are dragged across it.

Upon reaching the turnbuckle, Wheeler pulls Hurse’s head back and slams him face first into the turnbuckle.

Savior: Yay, that’s right. There you go, bro! Do you see, this is the same type of superiority that Jason and I have brought with us from the SCW. And it’s that superiority that’s got a bug up the collective asses of the Legends around here. They can’t deal with the fact that are shit smells better than theirs, and are skills are ten times greater than their pathetic lackluster attributes.

Moore: My poop smells like cinnamon buns, want to take a whiff?

Mark: Why do you insist on keeping that in a jar beneath the announce table?

The fans are quite upset over Hurse’s head on collision with the corner, not because they are saddened by his condition, but that it gives Wheeler a decisive opening advantage. The Tag Champion employs closed fists in order to inflict greater damage.

Each blow that is landed knocks Hurse in circles, spiraling down the ropes into the parallel turnbuckle. He ends up with his spine pressed against it, Jason delivering repeated stomps to his ribs. The former Alpha Generation leader is doubled over while Wheeler delivers a back elbow straight to his temple.

The strike almost takes Hurse down before he’s taken by the wrist and whipped into the opposite corner. The Master of Control does something he’s not accustomed to, he thinks. He ducks his head upon hitting the turnbuckle, flipping up and over it.

He twists his body and lands feet first on the apron, the crowd somewhat impressed by his athleticism.

Comeau: Look at Hurse, he’s still got some tricks up his sleeves even after all these years.

Savior: Yeah, boring years spent with the title alternating between Kingdom and Cruze, and Cruze and Kingdom, heaven forbid someone marketable, someone who is DESERVING of World Championship status come along and steal just a smidgen of their spotlight.

Mark: That’s not why they hate you, Christian. The things you’ve done to win that title and retain it have been downright reprehensible. Just look at how you and Jason won the Tag Titles.

Christian: Oh please. You know the MO amongst the old guard around here is to hold people down, to keep them from rising above the politics and threatening the pecking order. Jason and I have to employ underhanded tactics just to get out from under these old bastards who just won’t give it up and pack it in. In fact, the only reason they’re angry about our “reprehensible” actions, is because they didn’t think it up first.

A worried Adams slaps the apron, trying to rally behind Hurse while an apathetic Katelyn watches on, arms crossed over her sternum. She finds the gunk under her nails to be more interesting than the action in the ring. Wheeler charges at Hurse who bends forward on the apron and goes for a shoulder block to his ribs.

Jason side steps his head though and catches hold of it, placing him in a front chancery. He now drags a terrified Hurse through the cables, causing his ankles to rest over the middle rope, putting him in perfect position for an elevated DDT. The move would surely conclude this fast paced battle only for Hurse to surprisingly counter, throwing right hands into Jason’s ribs.

The blows cause him to release Hurse who drops to his feet in front of Wheeler but spends little time being thankful for his reprieve. Instead he quickly scoops Wheeler up into the air, turns and throws him back first into the turnbuckle.

He is scoop slammed violently against the padding, causing him to bounce off and land on his knees. In a state of utter anguish, Wheeler rises to his feet, holding his kidneys but providing little protection. Hurse still lunges into the air and dropkicks him between the shoulder blades.

The blow sends Jason staggering chest first this time into the turnbuckle. He bounces off and comes stumbling back into Hurse who steps around in front of the Black Cat trapping him in a stunner predicament. Instead of dropping to his seat, Hurse goes charging at the turnbuckle, looking for the Disinfectant.

Comeau: Hurse about to finish Wheeler off with the Disinfectant!

Savior: COME ON JASON! He doesn’t need me to cheer him on, he just likes to hear it from time to time.

Moore: Funny, I don’t need to hear my neighbors humping but I still like to tape record them.

At the last second Wheeler shoves Hurse off, sending him charging forward into the corner. Just before he can hit the corner he counters yet again, reaching out and grabbing the top rope while kicking his lower body into the air.

The Black Cat comes charging in under him, having been looking for the spear but completely missing. As a result Hurse is able to twist his body, land seat first on Wheeler’s back and then pull him over backwards into a sunset flip.

The crowd actually cheers as Hurse has a pinning predicament established.

Jason kicks out, getting his shoulder up and dropping backwards onto his feet. Hurse rolls over in reverse as well, ending up on his feet then charging straight at a recovering Wheeler only to be caught with the Claim to Fame (Sky High Press). Hurse is driven viciously back first into the canvas with Wheeler leaning forward, pressing his shoulders to the back of his opponent’s thighs.

Once more Hurse divides his shoulder from the canvas, preventing a near defeat.

Comeau: ANOTHER pinfall attempt, but the Claim to Fame not enough to finish off Hurse. Go ahead, chime in Christian.

Christian: Oh, my turn to speak? Didn’t want to interrupt your bias little diatribe, Mark.

Mark: Bias?

Savior: Quite frankly it surprises me Dan still keeps you employed. All you ever do is suck on the cocks of these legends, but where’s our props, where’s our appreciation, where’s the love for the Conspiracy? Your just like everyone else on this roster, you HATE people who show up your legends.

Comeau: I, like Cruze or Creed, welcome competition….

Christian: Bullshit. Don’t make me laugh. Here I am BUSTING my ass to bring respect to the World Championship, defending it in five star match after five star match, putting this company on the map, and instead of being appreciated, I’m looked down upon, I’m treated like a second class criminal.

Mark: First of all, we don’t need YOU, or Wheeler, or Evans to put ANYTHING on the map, the IWC was there thanks to the effort of a slew of stars, both retired and still active. And your going to realize just how talented the guys who MADE this company, and are now fighting for its honor, really are at Paranoia VI.

As the banter between Savior and Comeau continues, Wheeler lays into Hurse with stomp after stomp. Each blow sends shockwaves of pain through Parkwood’s body, desperately trying to cover up and prevent this onslaught. Unfortunately NOTHING works, his hands feebly knocking away just a few of the attempted blows.

Once Wheeler is satisfied that he’s bludgeoned his adversary enough, he takes him by the wrist and guides him up to his feet.

Hurse is only upright for a moment before a short arm clothesline takes him back down to the canvas. Jason maintains his grasp on Hurse’s wrist, once again yanking him back up to his feet. He now whips him across the ring into the ropes behind Jason’s back.

The battered legend charges into the cables, bounces off and comes back in at Wheeler who tries to catch him with a tilt a whirl. Somehow Hurse twists around out of the move though, landing on his feet right beside Jason and then taking him down with a Russian Leg Sweep.

Jason cries out in pain after his spine slams violently against the ring, Hurse standing up and swinging his fingers around one another, signaling for the shooting star leg drop. The fans are stunned that he’s busting out a move RARELY used.

Comeau: I don’t believe this, Hurse employing a move we haven’t seen him do in years, he’s going for that devastating shooting star leg drop.

Savior: EXACTLY! Hurse has to bust out all his old moves and new ones if he wants to beat Wheeler, and he knows that, he knows just how talented Wheeler is, just like Orlando, just like Creed, just like Kingdom. And they’ll see how talented he REALLY is when he and I eliminate all three of the legends and make the Paranoia VI main event an all Conspiracy affair.

Moore: It isn’t one of those affairs that will end with rabbit stew is it?

Hurse slips through the ropes and starts up the turnbuckle, reaching the top cable and then preparing to take flight with that shooting star into the leg drop. The crowd actually anticipate the high flying move, but their hopes are dashed by the interfering Black Cat.

Jason rushes in, catches Hurse by his throat and tights then pitches him off the turnbuckle in a Flair like bump. The Master of Control crashes across the canvas and rolls forward. Surprisingly he ends up on his feet, stunning his opponent who he charges at and nails a heat seeking dropkick upon.

The boots almost break Jason’s jaw, knocking him back first into the turnbuckle. He slips off of his feet at this point and lands on his seat, propped up against the corner. As Hurse backs into the opposite turnbuckle he pauses only briefly to give Jackson a thumbs up, Adams reciprocates the gesture.

A snickering Hurse turns towards the seated Wheeler and comes charging in, delivering a hesitation dropkick that connects right on the button. Wheeler’s nose is almost broken by the kick, which leads to him rolling out of the corner swiping his palms across his damaged face.

A strangely aggressive Hurse, perhaps trying to send Porno Lad a message, forces Jason up to his feet, cocks back his head and rams his face against the top turnbuckle pad. He pulls back and does it again, and again, Jason headbunting the corner repetitiously at this point.

His legs become weak, having trouble stabilizing his battered body. As his eyes gloss over and roll to the back of his head, Hurse turns Wheeler around and charges him the entire length of the ring before slamming him into the opposite turnbuckle.

Jason bounces off the top pad face first and then flies backwards, almost corkscrewing sideways before landing on his seat across the canvas.

Christian: Alright Jason, stop playing around now and just finish him already. Conserve your energy for a match that counts.

Mark: Not that I’m much of a fan of Hurse, but he’s taking your brother to the woodshed.

Moore: That’s disgusting. My uncle use to take me to the woodshed and what he did to me there is NOTHING like what Hurse is doing to Wheeler.

Comeau: The less details you give us, the better.

Savior: For once I agree with Comeau. But what I can’t agree with us is the treatment the my brother and I have received since we came into this company, constantly doubted, constantly ridiculed, everyone waiting for us to fail. And yet you wonder why we do the things that we do? It’s called payback, retribution. And our ultimate vengeance will be had in Steel Cage Elimination when we finally retire Orlando, and put Kingdom and Creed out to pasture as well. We’ll teach them WHY they shouldn’t have doubted us.

A discombobulated Black Cat tries feebly to regain his senses, but no type for recovery is permitted. Hurse steps in and pops Jason right to his temple before taking him by the hair and sticking his head under his posterior. The former World Champion now signals for the Sanitizer (Styles Clash).

Jackson jumps for joy, looking overly excited as Hurse lifts Wheeler up into the air, allowing him to hang upside down. He tries to step over the arms and pull off his finisher but Jason is struggling too much. Finally Wheeler sits up, finding himself seated across Hurse’s chest, rifling down with right hands into his opponent’s face.

Finally the shots cause Hurse to drop back towards the corner, throwing Wheeler at it. Somehow Jason has the agility to land on the second rope, keeping from crashing into the corner. He now scrambles to the top rope and turns towards his laid out opponent, launching himself forward into the 450 splash. At the nick of time Hurse rolls out of the way and Wheeler alters his move, instead dropping into a forward roll across the canvas.

He ends up on his feet as Hurse comes charging in, the Master of Control running straight into his own demise. The moment Hurse gets in range, Wheeler unleashes a superkick that is not only blocked but caught.

Mark: Hurse catching the superkick.

Susie: Just like I use to catch lightning bugs in a jar. But they never did go into their cocoons and come out as light-bulbs like I was expected.

Savior: Quit showing off and finish this already, Jason. We don’t have time for this, and frankly, Mark is irritating the piss out of me.

Mark: The feeling is mutual sir.

Before shock has a moment to set in, Hurse pushes down on Wheeler’s foot, sending him into a spiral, turning right into the clutches of his waiting opponent. Hurse now has him set for the Disinfectant yet again. He rushes forward in order to hit the move only to have Wheeler drop back, wrapping his arms around Hurse’s waist and pulling him down into a roll up.

Hurse kicks out, sending Wheeler staggering forward. He turns around just in time to catch Hurse charging in, once again throwing him into the air for the Claim to Fame. In mid-air though, Hurse twists his body, catches Wheeler around the waist with his legs and pulls him down into a forward roll up.

Hurse is seated on Porno Lad’s chest, pulling down on the back of his legs for the pinfall.

Jason kicks out at this point, sending Hurse rolling in reverse and onto his feet.

Mark: That was a close one.

Savior: Wheeler has things well in hand, Mark, stop underselling his capabilities so you can placate your old buddies.

Comeau: I never said Jason wasn’t talented, nor you, or Evans for that matter, it’s just the way you get things accomplished that sickens me.

Christian: HA! Like Orlando, Kingdom, Creed, and even YOU, haven’t done worse in your tenure. The hypocrisy of this company runs so deep, but that’ll all begin to change when Dan can wield his power with impunity, not having to worry about pleasing overpaid scum like these so called “founders.”

An exasperated Hurse rolls backwards onto his feet, getting up and then charging straight at Jason, who has staggered into a corner. Wheeler leans on the cables as Hurse dives in and connects with a double running knee strike to his chest. The blow knocks every bit of air out of Jason’s lungs, leaving him out of breathe and out of hope.

Jackson forces Katelyn to clap as Hurse places Wheeler in a front chancery, hoisting him up and seating him on the top rope. It’s obvious that Hurse is going for the kill, honing in on his victim like a shark drawn by the scent of blood. He steps up the corner in front of the seated Wheeler, standing on the middle rope and delivering several punches to his prone opponent’s skull.

Mark: This could be it for Wheeler.

Savior: Preposterous.

Moore: HEY! I thought we weren’t allowed to make up words.

Hurse takes a moment to blow Katelyn a kiss, causing her skin to squirm. That’s when Wheeler takes advantage, reaching up and wrapping his arms around Hurse’s legs. He drops down to his feet and charges out of the corner, hitting a running sit-out powerbomb.

Christian: There we go, now THAT’S impressive.

Mark: A POWERBOMB from the turnbuckle. If Hurse kicks out of this it would be a miracle.

Moore: A miracle greater than the one that allows Uwe Boll to keep making movies.

Wheeler leans forward with his shoulders wedged to the back of Hurse’s knees, going for the pinfall to a resoundingly negative response.

Jackson is half way into the ring but it’s too late, Hurse actually kicks out a split second before the third slap of the canvas.

Comeau: I’m AMAZED!

Savior: I’m sickened.

Moore: And I’m still Susie.

The crowd is stunned that Hurse ACTUALLY kicked out for a change. Jason is equally as vexed by his opponent’s unwillingness to stay down. He rises to his feet more flustered than ever before and sinks his fingers into Hurse’s hair. He drags him up slowly and whips him across the ring, going for the Claim to Fame. As Hurse bounces off of the opposite cables and comes back in at Wheeler he’s caught against the sternum and stomach, thrown up into the air and prepared to be slammed down against the canvas with the sky-high press.

Somehow Hurse is able to twist his body in mid-air though, land on Jason’s shoulders, drop back and roll Wheeler up into a hurricarana. Just before the ref can make a count, Hurse rolls back, ends up on his feet, leans forward into the back of Jason’s knees, hoists him up into the air and connects with the SANITIZER!

Savior: WHAT!?!

Comeau: Sanitizer! Hurse actually just delivered his version of the styles clash!

Savior: Jason must have had something in his eye, he was drugged, yeah, drugged.

Hurse rolls to his side with the crowd screaming and turns Wheeler to his back, leaning forward into the creases of Jason’s knees.

The entire IWC fanbase takes a collective gasp, stunned that Hurse has picked up ANOTHER win, two in a row!

Comeau: I, I, I, I’m STUNED! Hurse has just pinned Jason Wheeler. He won a match?

Savior: This is ridiculous, blasphemy, BLASPHEMY! Wheeler was distracted by these ungrateful peons in the audience!

The fans are on their feet actually cheering for Hurse’s unbelievable victory. He stands up, arms held high and a smile creeping across his face. Jackson is clapping and demanding Katelyn do the same, she apathetically joins in. That’s when the celebration is cut short by a spear to the ribs from the recovered Black Cat. The spear almost rips Hurse in two.

Comeau: Despite the loss, Wheeler tears Hurse apart via a SPEAR!

Savior: That teaches you for doubting us, Mark. Jason just trumped one of your legends with ease, EASE! He may not have won the battle, but he’s won this war. The same fate awaits your precious Cruze, Creed and Kingdom or any other legend who tries to keep us from obtaining what’s DUE to us. Choke on that.

Comeau: I never undercut Jason’s nor your ability, but you act as if he didn’t even just lose….

Before the sentence can be finished Savior throws his headset forcefully right against Mark’s temple. It bounces off of his skull and a furious Mark rises to his feet, staring Christian down as the World Champion vacates the announce table. He throws both his championships over his shoulders while Wheeler staggers in, taking his tag title from the time keeper.

He falls against his brother for support, holding the Tag Title gold high above his head amongst wails from the audience.

Mark: What cowardly pieces of…

Moore: If you don’t have something good to say you shouldn’t say it.

A disrespected Comeau continues to watch Savior and Wheeler as they step around the ring, staring into the camera zoomed in on their faces.

Savior: Did you see that? Did ya!?! That’s just the half of what we’ll do in Steel Cage Elimination to everyone who’s been denying us the rightful fruits of our labors. Hurse stood in our way and tried to make a joke of us but who’s laughing, who’s laughing now!?!

Jason now hauls off and spits right into the camera lens as if he were hocking a goober into the faces of his rivals.

Wheeler: We’re taking it all back starting tonight!

The repulsive duo starts up the ramp, message sent loud and clear. Their backs are turned on the ring where Hurse is being assisted to his seat by Adams, Jackson concerned about his friend’s well being. Katelyn just stands on the apron though, shaking her head with forced sympathy.

PIMPLE FACE

Desolation: YAAAAY!

Drool seeps from the pockets of Desolation’s mouth, hopping slightly in his wheelchair and clapping his hands enthusiastically.

Hellkat: That’s right, WE found him. Let’s turn to the next page now.

The mischievous tattooed Hellkat crouches down beside the wheelchair, a book extended across both palms. She slowly turns to the next page with her feline eyes focusing sharply on the images drawn across it.

Hellkat: I don’t see that crafty little cracker yet.

The slobbering Dark Man’s finger extends towards the page, tapping it repetitiously.

Hellkat: Noooo, that’s a tree. Try again.

His finger slides across the page as he exerts all of his mental prowess to discover Waldo’s location. Finally he jabs at another image.

Hellkat: NYAH! Your getting closer though, that’s the page number.

She now cheats by grabbing Desolation’s finger and sliding it across the page to Waldo’s hidden image.

Hellkat: There you GO!

A super excited Dark Man convulses in his chair, flailing his arms wildly. Suddenly there’s quite a commotion at the door, a loud knock heard.

Hellkat: Ugh, this happens every time we sit down to enjoy a good book together. It better not be another of those blasted Jehovah’s Witnesses. Actually, I’d probably take an hour long conversation with them over anybody on this roster. Have you ever talked to Pat Evans, it’s like talking to a dried turd. Although a turd has far more intelligence, and A LOT more charisma.

In agitation she moves to the door, swinging it open in a huff. A pimply faced stage-hand stands before her, nervously beginning to stumble over his words. Before he can get out a sentence the door is slammed in his face, Hellkat turning back towards her disabled husband.

Hellkat: Oh well, the kid had pimples, couldn’t have been anything important.

Again there’s a loud ruckus at the door, causing Hellkat to sigh in exasperation. She flings the door open and this time the youth speaks quicker.

Stagehand: Hellkat, we have a BIG emergency.

Hellkat: Did Aurora come up with a storyline that doesn’t involve spousal abuse?

Stagehand: Good heavens no. Apparently your babysitter….

He looks at the note in his palm and makes sure he’s reading it correctly.

Stagehand:…. a Mr. Naked Ned called, there’s a problem with your daughter, Tia.

Hellkat: Hmmm, she probably got stuck in another pear of Romeo Damascus’ assless chaps. Take me to a phone pimply minion.

Stagehand: Yes Ma’am.

The two vacate the dressing room, leaving Desolation behind. He sits complacently, eating the ear of his Oscar the Grouch doll.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Behold the evil of the Black Scorpion

ON THE SAME PAGE

To say Pat Evans isn’t greeted with the warmest of receptions would be a vast understatement. It would be like implying that Adolf Hitler wasn’t all that cuddly, or that Gregory House is only slightly cynical. Despite the boos that echo throughout the gorilla position backstage, Evans pioneers onward, drawing even closer to the ring.

Christian: There he is, there’s the man we’ve been looking for.

Evans almost breaks out in hives the moment he’s faced with Christian Savior and a toweling off Jason Wheeler. The Tag Team Champions provide a roadblock, ensuring that Evans has no alternative but to stand and listen.

Wheeler: Where ya been keeping yourself old buddy old pal?

The animosity between Evans and Wheeler becomes all the more clearer when Jason has the audacity to touch Pat on his shoulder. This violation of his personal space has Evans steaming like a volcano on the cusp of eruption.

Savior: Yeah, we’ve been trying to reach you all week. Least you can do is respond to our e-mails.

Pat: Oh, believe me, I could do far less.

Pat now tries to maneuver between his partners in Steel Cage Elimination only to have Wheeler’s hand slip from his shoulder and palm his chest.

Jason: What’s this, Christian, Pat doesn’t sound very friendly.

Christian: No he doesn’t.

Evans: And why SHOULD he?

The tone of his voice is enough to tell Wheeler to remove the palm from sternum.

Pat: Do you have any idea what your egotism has done, Christian?

Savior shrugs.

Evans: It took everything from me. I had the World Championship in my grasp before you decided to steal my thunder and spear Kingdom all those weeks ago.

Wheeler: Your STILL upset about that? Good God man, cry yourself a river, build a bridge and get over it.

Pat: And YOU!

Evans turns towards Jason, digging a finger into his chest before the Black Cat bats it away.

Evans: Well…I just plain don’t like you.

An overzealous Savior spins Pat around to face him.

Savior: Listen Chief, whether you like us or not, whether your still POUTING over squandered opportunities or have gotten over yourself is inconsequential, what matters is that we all three still share a common goal. A goal of ridding ourselves of the shackles known as Johnny Kingdom, Orlando Cruze, and Nathan Creed. We have the opportunity to free ourselves at Paranoia VI, to put to rest any doubts about who has the talent, to show who DESERVES to be at the top of the card, and who SHOULD be playing shuffle board in some high rent Florida old folks community.

Evans cannot help but to listen given his disposition towards the selfish legends of the IWC.

Wheeler: Yeah, what he said. But think about it Evans, you being pissed at us solves nothing. Like it or not your STILL our teammate at Paranoia VI, and if you really want that all Conspiracy main event, you’ve got to help us eliminate the competition. So stop being mister gloomy pants, pull your head out of your puckered ass cheeks and get focused on taking out the Icon, the Team Leader, The Future, and anyone else with a horrible moniker.

Pat: Says the man who just last week refused to openly devote himself to the Conspiracy.

Jason: No, says the man who’s tired of being denied title opportunities because the likes of Nathan Creed and Johnny Kingdom want one last fling in the spotlight, and as thus are totally killing this company through stagnation and boredom.

Savior: Yeah, so if you don’t get on the ball, Pat, there may be no World Championship to win, hell, there may not even be an IWC if the likes of Cruze and Kingdom get their way. So wise up.

For a moment Evans deliberates on what he’s heard, the pearls of wisdom provided by the Infection.

Evans: You know, you two make a lot of sense, but I’ve never been one to adhere strictly to logic.

These words slightly unsettle the duo.

Pat: I still believe in the cause boys, don’t get me wrong, but that doesn’t mean we have to go about accomplishing our goal in the same way. I’ll still enter that cage at Paranoia, but maybe, just maybe, I’ll be entering it as my OWN man, with my OWN plans.

Before a rebuttal can be spoken, Evans’ entrance music begins to play and he forces himself between the Tag Champions and moves towards the ring. Christian and Jason are left behind, eyes batting awkwardly in a clear display of confusion.

Wheeler: What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Once again the best Savior can do is shrug his shoulders.

Savior: All I know is he better still be on board for later tonight, when we start to take back this company.

PSYCHO & SHIN IWATE VS. PAT EVANS

The same boos Evans heard echoing in the gorilla position are now directed at him as he emerges onto the stage. While “Outsider” plays through the PA system, Pat moves towards the ring, not even glancing at the fans vindictively hazing him.

Mark: We’re back on Riot! and as you can see Pat Evans is already on his way to the ring after a somewhat unusual conversation with Infection backstage. It seems that the Conspiracy contingent isn’t exactly on the same page.

Moore: I think they need to use a mind meld to bring themselves closer together.

Comeau: I don’t even think a Vulcan nerve pinch will save Pat from the handicap bout he’s been forced into. Evans may be entering Steel Cage Elimination as his own man, but he also may step into the match injured if either Psycho or Shin Iwate have their own…..hold that thought….

Susie: I wasn’t even thinking.

Mark: There’s a shock. There’s something going down in the entrance tunnel, someone get back there with a camera.

Moore: And grab me a snow cone while your at it.

Cameras immediately find their way backstage where a brawl ensues between warriors slated to be partners, Psycho and Shin Iwate. Shin has turned away from Psycho as he staggers down the entrance tunnel, unaware that a stacking crate is being flung right into his back. As the wood shatters against his back Iwate staggers forward, gritting his teeth from the pain.

Comeau: Psycho and Iwate going at it backstage! These two are supposed to be tag team partners in this scheduled handicap match.

Susie: I think they need to see a marriage councilor.

Psycho rushes up behind Shin, grabs him by the back of the head and pitches him into the small staircase leading up to the stage. The Cartel Title glistens around Psycho’s waist as he continues to inflict punishment on his partner/rival. After bashing off the steps face first, Iwate staggers up them and begins to spill through the curtains.

The camera shifts to the stage where Iwate is rolling across the steel.

Mark: These two fighting on the stage now, there’s no way they can coexist in this match.

Susie: Usually when I’m trying to bond with someone we have a sack race in the backyard.

Comeau: yeah, I doubt even that can bring these two together.

Psycho cocks back his fist for a knock out blow only to have Iwate spin around and kick him forcefully to the ribs. The blow doubles Psycho over as Shin pops him over and over again to the temple and grabs him by the hair. He guides him towards the ring where a shocked Evans is watching with a smile on his face.

As they reach the end of the ramp, Psycho suddenly wedges his shoulder to Shin’s spine and lifts him up into a backdrop. Instead of planting him against the mats he throws him at the ring, Iwate surprisingly landing feet first on the apron.

Evans clears out of harm’s way, smiling as he backs away from the ring palms raised into the air. He wants no part of this chaos, going unnoticed as Shin enters the ring and Psycho grabs a chair out from under the squared circle. The furious sociopath slips into the ring lifting the chair into the air.

That’s when Shin charges in and dropkicks the steel right into Psycho’s face, knocking him to his back and dropping the chair to the canvas. Iwate quickly scrambles to his feet, grabs the chair off of the canvas and waits for a recovering Psycho to get back up.

The dazed Psycho gingerly reaches his feet only to have the chair swung with incredible force right against his skull. The sickening thud knocks the Sadistic One to the canvas and sends him rolling to the outside. Those packed into the Manhattan Center are stunned by the impact of the chair to skull as Iwate demands the use of a microphone.

Comeau: What a disfiguring chair shot from Iwate. The hatred between these two is off the charts.

Moore: I hate charts, you can’t even eat the pie ones.

As a microphone is placed in Iwate’s hand, Shin points his chair at the recovering Psycho at ringside. The Sadistic One listens while removing the Cartel Title from his waist.

Shin: I’m not through torturing you yet, Psycho! Since you INSIST on being a distraction and more importantly an ANNOYANCE, I’m going to end you TONIGHT. I say to hell with a handicap match, let’s make this a three way HARDCORE match!

The fans are overjoyed at this prospect, everyone quite enthused at the concept of seeing these three go to war unrestrained by the rules. Evans smirks and nods enthusiastically, doing anything to get out of a 2 on 1 scenario. As Psycho leans on the apron holding his pounding skull he nods as well.

Mark: I guess we’ve got another stipulation change, Evans and Psycho agreeing to Shin’s demands and now we’re apparently going to see a three way hardcore match. Hasn’t this night already been wild enough?

Moore: I think an impromptu Tea Party segment would make it all the more crazy.

Referee Stuart Wright isn’t going to stifle Iwate’s creativity, he shrugs and calls for the bell, officiating a sure to be out of control affair. As soon as the bell chimes, Iwate rushes across the canvas and dives through the ropes, hitting a suicide dive with the chair held out in front of him, right into a shocked Evans. Both men collapse to the mats amongst a rousing reaction from the crowd.

Comeau: And what a suicidal way to get the match started!

Iwate and Evans remain laid out on the mats for several seconds before Shin regains his bearings and goes back to work on his adversary. He grabs Evans by the hair and begins to lead the Conspiracy member to his feet, popping him to the forehead several times with blatant closed fists. Behind their backs, Psycho is scaling a turnbuckle, everyone screaming at this sight.

He reaches the very top rope and then takes flight, soaring through the air and crashing down on top of Shin and Evans with a big splash.

Comeau: OHHHH!

Moore: FAT MAN FLYIN’!

The fans are upright slapping the barricades and cheering ecstatically over Psycho’s high risk move. The trio of talent remains laid out across the mats before struggling towards their feet. The moment that Shin gets up a wild haymaker from Psycho lands right against his eye socket, the force of the straight punch knocking Iwate over the barricade and into the crowd.

Psycho now turns his attention to Evans, delivering a swift headbunt to his skull that disorientates the technical tyrant. Evans finds himself staggering backwards into the turnbuckle post, propped against it to remain upright. Psycho now comes charging in for a big splash only to have Evans step out of the way, causing him to crash forcefully against the exposed post.

He bounces off of the steel and twists in circles as a result only to end up trapped in a side headlock at the hands of Evans. Pat now barrels forward and drives the top of Psycho’s skull into the exposed post yet again to skull cracking results.

If the Sadistic Savage’s skull wasn’t throbbing before it sure as hell is now. He isn’t allowed even a moment to recover because Evans snatches hold of his hair, leads him to the ring and rolls him in under the ropes. Without even a second’s delay, Evans starts up a turnbuckle, reaches the top rope and then takes flight. He soars through the air and connects with a diving elbow drop.

Comeau: Evans could have a quick win here.

Moore: I bet he’s fast at a lot of things, hint, hint.

Mark: I’m sure you’d be the one to find out.

Pat rolls into the lateral press, hooking Psycho’s leg for the pinfall.

The incredibly tough, durable Psycho has the power left to kick out, his shoulder launched from the canvas. An annoyed Evans rises to his knees but has no time for aggravation because he now has to avoid flying chairs. Shin is grabbing chairs from the audience and pitching them over the barrier, over the ropes and into the squared circle.

Chair after chair is inserted by the Asian terror, forcing many of the fans to stand. He keeps hold of two of the chairs as he slips over the barricade and descends upon the squared circle. An angered Evans sticks his head through the ropes, reaching out for Iwate only to have his head sandwiched between the chairs.

Iwate squashes Pat’s cranium with both weapons that Iwate now throws over the ropes into the ring as well. Somehow a barely coherent Psycho has grabbed one of the weapons thrown into the ring, beginning to unfold a chair into a seated position. He leans against the steel for support while Iwate climbs to the apron then springs to the top rope.

That’s when Psycho rushes at Shin, reaches out and catches him by the chest and stomach, throwing him off the top rope. Shin flies through the air and crashes face first into the back rest of the sat up chair. He bounces off of the steel violently then turns into a goozle. Psycho hoists him up into the air and connects with the chokeslam!

Mark: Chokeslam!! Psycho seemingly on the verge of victory.

The Sadistic One drops into a lateral press, going for the pinfall while Evans begins to recover behind him.

Before the three count can be made Evans swings a chair viciously into Psycho’s upper back, breaking up the pinfall attempt.

Mark: Evans stopping the count in the most brutal way possible. At the very least, in Evans’ case, this will get him ready for that equally as barbaric Steel Cage Elimination match.

Moore: I thought he’d be use to steel cages by now, I imagine he’s lived half of his life in one, while they were conducting all those beauty experiments on him. Too bad none of them took.

Psycho continues to reach for his kidneys while Evans steps in and rams the top edge of the chair into his chin. The blow knocks the Sadistic One to the canvas, leaving him almost spent at this point. He chokes and gasps for air while Evans throws down the chair and then drops down into a pin on Iwate, looking to capitalize on all of Psycho’s hard work.

Shin kicks out at this point, the crowd actually cheering as a result.

This failure to earn the pin does not derail Evans though, he rises to his feet, shoots his arms out to his sides signaling for the From the Outside In. He takes Shin by the hair, leads him to his feet and stuffs his skull under his seat before heaving Iwate up into a crucifix powerbomb predicament.

Comeau: Evans could very well end it here should he deliver this move.

Moore: Good, we were probably about to get sued for all this chair related abuse.

Evans dashes forward across the ring when Iwate reaches back and wraps his legs around the submission expert’s waist. He now drops down palms first to the canvas and pushes himself up into a reverse wheelbarrow before hitting a sunset flip driver.

The ring shakes thanks to the compression of Evans’ spine against it, Iwate leaning forward into the back of Pat’s legs for the pin.

Evans somehow has the energy to not only kick out but roll backwards to his knees and clamp onto Iwate’s ankle. The crowd wails as Pat tries to turn Shin over into the ankle lock. Somehow Shin is fighting it though, struggling with every fiber of energy he has left to prevent being placed in the hold.

However, there is no stopping Pat from rolling him to his chest and applying the submission. He twists and rips at the ankle ferociously, bending it to the point that it may very well snap. This seemingly leaves Shin with no alternative but to lift his hand into the air and tap out, but just before that can happen, Psycho intervenes.

He steps up behind Pat, places him in a reverse face lock and actually lifts him up into a reverse suplex. Evans ends up flipping over Psycho’s shoulder though, landing on his feet behind his back and now setting up for the Time to Go to Sleep.

Psycho tries to fight it but Evans is determined to clamp on the hold and earn the tap out. Neither he nor Psycho are aware that a hobbling Iwate has grabbed a chair off of the canvas and employed it as a crutch to reach his feet. Once upright he throws the chair with all his remaining energy at Psycho’s face. The steel misses its mark though when Psycho clears out of the way, instead causing it to connect with Evans face.

Comeau: ANOTHER sickening chair shot.

Moore: I know we’re going to get calls from those chair activist committees, they’ll picketing us in no time.

The sound of chair smacking bone is reminiscent of a gunshot echoing throughout the Manhattan Center. It leaves Pat wavering like a tree blowing in a strong wind but still keeping his feet rooted to the canvas. That’s until Iwate snatches up another chair that he threw in earlier, charges at Evans and dropkicks the steel right into his sternum.

The chest cracking impact knocks Evans from his feet and sends him spilling backwards through the ropes. Its at this point that Shin turns his attention to his rival, Psycho leaning against a turnbuckle for support, leaving him perfectly prone for an attack.

Iwate quickly sets up a chair and places it a few feet away from Psycho before backing into the opposite turnbuckle. He now gets a running start, bolting across the canvas and stepping off of the chair, flying at his brutish opponent for a leg lariat.

The Sadistic One somehow catches Iwate against his sternum though and steps out of the corner. He throws Iwate up into the air so that he lands on his shoulders in a powerbomb predicament and now charges him at the set up chair. Just before Iwate can be paralyzed he drops back and hits a hurricarana, sending Psycho flipping forward into the chair.

Comeau: That chair broken under Psycho’s body. These guys were not kidding when they said they were going hardcore tonight.

Susie: I thought they meant something else when they said hardcore, it got my under britches all tingly.

Psycho remains on top of the chair which was shattered under his frame, unaware that Iwate is now rushing into the ropes at his side and going for a springboard maneuver. He lunges from the second rope, twists in mid-air and connects with a leg drop across Psycho’s throat.

Instead of going for the pin, the confident Iwate gets to his feet and charges at the ropes once again. He lunges to the middle cable a second time only for Pat to stand up outside of the ring and catch him off guard with a trash can shot to the forehead.

The blow sends Iwate tumbling off of the ropes and to the canvas. Evans now slides into the ring with the trash can still in hand. He steps towards Shin, lifts the steel into the air and brings it down over Iwate’s body again and again and again, inflicting untold amounts of damage and carnage.

Shin tries to protect himself but it is vein, his body taking quite the beating from the trash-can. After Evans is satisfied that he’s inflicted enough pain on one opponent he transitions to the other. He moves towards a now kneeling Psycho and lifts the trash can up into the air.

Unfortunately for Evans, Psycho has grabbed the broken chair out from under his body and now swings it into the trash can with ungodly force. The chair smacks the can into Evans’ face, the collision once again resembling the sound of a full on gunfire fight.

Mark: Arrr, what a brain scrambling blow.

Evans’ brain is pounding against the confines of his possibly cracked skull. He is unaware that Psycho is standing over him, eyes shifting between both of his opponents, figuring out who will feel his wrath. Finally he settles on Iwate, passing by the Conspiracy member to get his hands on the man who has distracted him around every turn.

As he moves towards Shin, steel chair in hand, his rage proves to be a detriment. Shin lifts a leg and kicks Psycho hard in the shin, bringing him to his knees as a result. Psycho almost falls forward but thankfully sets up the steel chair and leans against it to keep from tumbling to the ring.

A disorientated Shin gets to his feet and rushes backwards into the ropes, bouncing off and coming back in at his recovering opponent. Psycho is already standing up when Shin steps off of the chair, launching himself forward and catching his rival around the neck, nailing a tornado DDT.

Psycho’s skull slams against the canvas and renders him almost unconscious. He rolls across the canvas to his back while Shin slides across his hands and knees towards the still set up chair. A fatigued Iwate begins to use the chair to reach his feet but the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, alerting him to the fact that Evans is charging up behind him.

At the last conceivable second, Shin turns, catches Evans around the ankle and drop toe holds him straight into the seat of the chair. His skull bashes against the steel, leaving him in much the same condition as the Sadistic One. Finally he falls forward into the chair, leaning against it on the side of his face.

He lives to regret leaning on the chair, because Iwate now lunges into the air and double stomps his skull against the steel. The crowd screaming in shock over what they’ve just witnessed, stunned by the brutality these three men are inflicting on one another.

Comeau: Shin just, man, he just stomped Evans’ head into that chair. If Pat didn’t have brain damage before, he does now.

Moore: And if he wants MORE brain damage he should watch 24 straight hours of Power Rangers. All the flashy colors have given me so many seizures, I love it.

Evans grips at his skull, his brain feeling as if it’s about to burst out of his head. His suffrage isn’t over yet however, as Shin rushes at the set up chair, steps off of it and flips forward into a senton leg drop right across Pat’s throat.

Evans begins to convulse terribly as a result while Shin turns into the lateral press.

Just before the third slap of the canvas can be made, Psycho intervenes. He grabs Shin around the waist and hoists him up into the air only to allow him to drop to the canvas right in front of him. Psycho now takes Shin around the neck and drops back into a release Psychotic Episode.

The back of Iwate’s skull crashes forcefully against the ring, his body flopping over to his knees with eyes glazed over.

Comeau: Psychotic Episode by Psycho, that has got to be it, it has to!

Susie: If it isn’t will you pout? I’d suggest holding your breathe until you pass out, it always worked on my parents, and I’ve only gotten a couple massive head wounds as a result. But it was well worth the gamble in order to get that lollipop ring.

Mark: I’m sure it was.

A maniacal Psycho rises to his feet and turns his back on the Conspiracy member, seemingly not even interested in Evans at this point. Instead he grabs Iwate by the wrist, dragging his near comatose body to the center of the ring. He now begins to pile debris on top of Shin, placing a dented chair on his sternum first then topping it off with the mangled trashcan.

Moore: Is Psycho making a sandwich? I hear Asian food isn’t that filling.

Comeau: And I hear blondes are naturally dumb, I guess that’s too stereotypes that are true.

Psycho moves to the turnbuckle at this point, ascending to the very top rope while the crowd brims with excitement. They have no idea what the brute is setting up for as he steadies himself on the upper most cable and now flips backwards into a moonsault.

The menacing figure soars gracefully through the air before engulfing Iwate, the chair, and the trashcan under his frame.

Comeau: Ohhh, Psycho may have just DESTROYED Iwate with that moonsault.

Susie: PINK TACO!

Shin convulses like he were just hit with a bolt of lightening, the damaged weapons spilling off of his broken body. Psycho grips at his ribs and struggles towards his feet. Finally he gets them planted under his severally aching frame, ready go for the pinfall.

He has no idea that Evans has managed to retrieve a steel chain from his shorts, wrapping it around his fist then blasting the Psychotic One right to the back of his skull. Psycho is sent reeling into the cables and tumbling through them to the outside of the ring, leaving Evans alone in the ring with a beaten Iwate.

Evans quickly drops down into the lateral press.

Comeau: Oh man, the Conspiracy once again trying to sneak in the back door to get a win.

Moore: The only thing that tries to sneak through my back door are p….

Mark: DON’T, don’t finish that sentence please.

Susie: What? I was just going to say possums. They get through the doggy door somehow. I probably should buy a dog eventually.

To jeers from the crowd Evans has Shin’s leg hooked and is anxiously going for a cover. The referee drops down and makes the count, boos coinciding with each slap of the canvas.

The reaction is overwhelmingly hostile in the Manhattan Center as Evans has just picked up a stunning victory in this brutal hardcore war.

Mark: And yet again the Conspiracy steals victory.

Susie: Why? I don’t think it e very valuable, you probably couldn’t even exchange victory for tokens, and I love tokens.

Although his head is pounding Psycho has the wherewithal to look up and from his vantage point all he sees is a standing Evans celebrating his ill-gained victory. At this point the Psychotic One is almost imploding like a powder keg with a short fuse. The mere image of Evans standing victorious sends him into full kill Bill mode.

The celebratory Evans is unaware that Psycho has climbed to the apron and is entering the ring behind him. He turns just in the nick of time to spot Psycho coming at him, prompting Evans to run for the hills. A shocked Pat scatters from the squared circle and leaves a vengeful Psycho behind.

Comeau: Evans getting out of the ring and doing so in a hurry. I would probably do the same given Psycho’s instability.

Moore: He’s as unstable as a Tara Reid boob job.

The savage leers at the departing Evans, mouthing some harsh rhetoric under his breathe, promising revenge. His homicidal tendencies are further fueled by the smile on Evans’ face.

Pat: Another legend down, three more to go.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Men on a Mission….best musical act of all time

SAVIOR

The show returns live to find that Psycho has yet to vacate the ring, in fact he’s now seated on a chair directly in the center of it. Making his lingering presence in the ring all the more perplexing are the four walls of steel that now surround him. The cage has now been lowered from the rafters and surrounds the Sadistic One, who sits with the Cartel Title glimmering over his shoulder.

Comeau: Ladies and gentlemen, during the commercial break Psycho demanded the cage be lowered, and that’s just what was done. I guess he’s still furious over the outcome of the previous match. The Conspiracy continuing to slip through his fingers.

Moore: His fingers are probably too greasy from all that fast food he must eat. I tried to eat a french fry one time, I was pooping non-stop for a month afterwards.

The long bangs of Psycho’s hair veil his face as he slowly lifts a microphone up to his lips.

Psycho: How could he be so sad, how could he be so PATHETIC.

His words are so spoken with such malice and anger they would even be enough to force Freddy Kruger into witness relocation.

Psycho: How did he lose his focus? How did he allow himself to be distracted?

His large palm engulfs his face, brushing his hair away to reveal his scarred, disfigured features. Strangely he looks subdued, relaxed even in comparison to his normal enraged, homicidal demeanor.

Psycho: What a two faced hypocrite he’s become. He’s turned his back on the mission, he’s let those responsible for the decay of this federation get away time and time again because of some petty MEANINGLESS rivalry over a MEANINGLESS title.

The Cartel Championship is raised slightly from his shoulder, just enough so everyone gets what he’s talking about. Yes, much like a teacher at the Brail Institute, he’s forced to spell things out for his students.

Psycho: How could I let them do it? How is it possible that I’ve been led so far astray? Last week, he had the chance to end Jason Wheeler. He laid at my feet like an offering from God….

His open palm gestures towards the heavens.

Psycho: And instead of curing the Infection I let it spread. I could have kept Wheeler and Savior from taking the Tag Team Titles by breaking their bones into powder and spilling their blood into puddles all over the Manhattan Center, but I didn’t. No, no, I didn’t take the opportunity, instead I choose to send a message to a MEANINGLESS individual by taking his Cartel Title and leaving the ring. And tonight, I had the chance to end Evans and I LET him slip through my fingers.

In a fit he actually begins to punch himself in the temple over and over again, more remorseful than a child at a Michael Jackson sleep over.

Psycho: Yes, I LET Infection go on to steal more titles and rape my company of its prestige. I’m a hypocrite, a hypocrite, a HYPOCRITE!!

Psycho almost rips out his hair while thumping the microphone against his forehead.

Psycho: I can’t blame Shin Iwate this time, I can only blame myself. I should have known that Kingdom and Cruze, or anybody else on the roster for that matter, would be unable to eliminate the Infection, I should have taken care of them when I had the chance. So I’m the only one who can be blamed. I was the HYPOCRITE. For months I’ve bashed others for letting their agendas get in the way of destroying the Conspiracy, then I turn around and allow my hatred for Iwate to keep me from SAVING my company.

Mumbles emanate from Psycho, having a brief conversation with himself. There are more voices talking at once inside of his head than there are people freaked out by his behavior.

Psycho: I’m no better than Johnny Kingdom, who’s only around to pad his wallet, or Orlando Cruze, who’s more concerned with looking good before his retirement than doing whatever it takes to finish off the Conspiracy. Actually I’m worse than they’ll ever be. They’ve never come as close as I have to crushing Savior and Wheeler, only to walk away from it.

Again he grumbles before changing his personality as quickly as Cybil, now giggling to himself.

Psycho: But unlike those bald tools, I intend on rectifying my mistake. I’m gonna fix it right here, right now, and I’m going to do it by making an offer to you, JASON WHEELER!

The camera zooms in on the eyes of Psycho in all their soulless glory.

Psycho: If you want this MEANINGLESS strap back….

The Cartel Championship is raised aloft.

Moore: I wouldn’t, it’s too untrustworthy.

The belt falls back to Psycho’s tense shoulder.

Psycho: Then all you have to do is get inside of this cage with me and TAKE it back.

The crowd cheers, head over heels in love with the idea of Psycho and Wheeler waging war in the cage tonight.

Psycho: Seeing as how I’ve been denied the privilege of facing the Conspiracy in the cage at Paranoia VI, I figure why not do it tonight? I know that Kingdom, Cruze, and my brother will fail at Paranoia, so it’s in the best interest of my company that they let me take out Wheeler NOW. That way the toothless hack and the bald billionaires will actually have a fighting chance at Paranoia, at least until their egos get in the way. Which we all know they will….

OPEN YOUR HEART

These words rip through the PA systems and send the crowd into a spiraling outrage. Their words are too racy to repeat, but are fun to scream in public. The primary recipient of the boos is Jason Wheeler, yet his associate, Christian Savior, gets an equal amount of jeers for his troubles. The Tag Team Champions occupy the stage in agitation, dressed far too nicely and UNUSUAL to endure such treatment from an unappreciative crowd.

Moore: Why is Jason dressed like a Village Person? Quick, remind me how to spell YMCA.

Mark: Uhhh sure, just let me say stuff that’s actually important first. Infection is here, the recently crowned Tag Champions, and the Black Cat doesn’t look very happy. Does he ever?

The fans are still verbally unloading on the champions, Savior purposely polishing BOTH of his title belts with the sleeve of his designer shirt, rubbing his success in their unsuccessful faces. Psycho takes notice of it like it were a rolled up newspaper smacking him on the nose.

Jason: First and foremost, your not doing anything to ANYBODY tonight, other than boring the hell out of them.

The jeers get even louder, and Psycho’s stare becomes all the more harrowing. Despite receiving the type of look a man would receive from his wife after lipstick was discovered on his collar, Jason continues undisturbed.

Wheeler: Does this whole, “I’m a skitzo with a penchant for torturing and maiming others, that never washes his hair or wears deodorant” still intimidate anyone? Anyone at all? Cause it doesn’t work on me.

Savior chuckles as he pats Jason on the shoulder, any animosity between the brother kaput after wining the Tag Team Titles.

Jason: Is your whole shtick based around doing things that have been done to death? Heellllooo, PSYCHO, Porno Lad stole my belt like a month ago, this is getting kinda repetitive.

The hair is blown out of Psycho’s mangled face so that the Infection can get a better glimpse of his eyes.

Wheeler: If you were going to rip someone off, you might have wanted to pick somebody a little smarter. Did you even see what HAPPENED to Porno Lad after he took my N.H.B Title? I disfigured his face and left him lying.

The cruel reminder of that incident further aggravates the fans.

Jason: So now I guess Christian and I have to be REPETITIVE just like you. Because Christian and I, will have NO problem coming to that ring and….well…..we can’t really disfigure you, but at least we can leave you in a heap.

Psycho runs his palm over the scars permanently melted into his flesh.

Wheeler: And we’ll have no problem stepping in the cage with you, we don’t run away from battles, especially against those who we aren’t INTIMIDATED by. Bro, how about we get back my property now?

Savior: Sounds like fun. Lord knows you need even MOOORRREE gold.

Christian slaps the golden plate of the Tag Title nestled over Wheeler’s shoulder before the two proceed towards the ring. The Rising Phoenix is rolling up his sleeves despite having trouble moving his arms, his shoulders too burdened by title belts. Psycho stands up and licks his jagged teeth, kicking the chair out from under him and lifting the Cartel Title high enough for the Infection to see.

Psycho: Come and get it boys, SUPPA’ TIME!

Obviously Psycho is enjoying this, unconcerned by the two on one advantage whatsoever. In fact he welcomes it, wanting to kill two birds with one stone.

Comeau: Infection about to take on Psycho in the cage. We don’t have to wait till Paranoia to see some steel cage warfare.

Moore: But you will have to wait till Paranoia to see my American Idol audition tape. Apparently Simon Cowell didn’t like my version of “Mandy” performed with my armpit.

Mark: There’s no account for taste.

Wheeler and Savior reach the edge of the ramp, discussing how they’ll get into the cage at the untamed animal lurking inside. That’s when their assaulted from behind by Aurora Rose and David Freak.

Mark: The Freaks coming out here and ATTACKING Infection. I guess they want some revenge for being eliminated from the gauntlet last week!

Moore: If they had just listened to me and used some antibiotics they would have beat the Infection.

The shocked Infection members crumble to their knees, being decimated with clubbing blows from a vengeful Freak and Aurora. Psycho watches this unfold through wide eyes, a number of four letter words hanging on his lips. In a full on fit he approaches the cage door, sliding through to get his hands on those who have once again crashed his party.

Savior tries to cover up his head with his palms but now Freak is stomping him over the back while Aurora tosses Wheeler chin first into the barricade. His body cracks against the steel, his arm dangling over the barrier to keep him upright, now too dazed to put up much of a fight.

It’s at this point that Psycho steps in and shoves Rose away from the prone Wheeler. The Sadistic One’s flesh is so red he could be mistaken for a lickerish whip.

Psycho: What’s WRONG with you two!?!

Freak steps between Aurora and the grumbling psychopath, palms outstretched as he tries to explain.

David: We hate these bastards as much as you do. So just let us help.

Besides being red, Psycho’s skin if twitching, his rage causing him to loose all control of his bodily functions. Strangely he seems to be considering Freak’s proposal, FINALLY, realizing that he can’t allow himself to be distracted from decimating the Infection.

That’s when David is shoved aside and Rose moves in with a field goal right between the uprights. Her boot hits BOTH of Psycho’s testicles, causing him to double over calling out in pain.

Comeau: WHAT!?!

Susie: I think Psycho’s fun-bags were just popped like balloons. I love balloons, especially sucking the helium out of them so I can fly.

Psycho falls to his knees across the mats, his features even more twisted than before. David glares at his wife like she just committed the ultimate betrayal. Before he can question her actions, Aurora grabs the Cartel Title off of the mats and glares frantically at her husband.

Rose: RUN!!

Obviously David doesn’t need to hear this twice and like Forest Gump he runs like he’s never run before. He and Aurora charge up the ramp, fleeing to the back as Psycho pushes past the pain in his crotch. Despite almost being castrated by Aurora’s boot he hobbles up the ramp after his assailant.

Comeau: Psycho chasing after the Freaks who have annoyed him soooo over the past few weeks, constantly getting between him and the Conspiracy, which is exactly what they’ve just done again. And to make matters worse they’re fleeing with the Cartel Title.

Moore: Why is that belt so trampy? Have it no self respect at all? I’d have to double bag it if I ever took it home with me.

As Psycho limps up the ramp, still clutching his lower extremities he doesn’t even notice Kingdom moving towards the ring. He steps past Psycho off to the side of the ramp, a grin on the Team Leader’s face as he approaches the recovering Infection.

Comeau: Savior and Wheeler very unlucky tonight.

Moore: They should have a lucky four leaf clover, I got mine out of a Lucky Charms box.

Mark: Johnny Kingdom making good on his vow to take out the Conspiracy tonight and he’s starting right at the serpent’s head.

The Infection are just getting their bearings as Savior pats Wheeler on the back.

Savior: That was easy.

Wheeler: Why are there so many thieves around here?

Christian: There are just as many washed up assholes.

Despite their pain they chuckle, having no idea that Kingdom is standing right behind their backs. He hovers behind them, chin cupped by his palm. The Infection feel his breath on the back of their necks, causing their hair to stand on end. The Tag Champions turn slowly and find themselves glaring at Kingdom, who drops his arms and smiles.

Kingdom: Oh, so sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

Wheeler goes for a right hand that Kingdom ducks, getting behind the Black Cat and spinning him around. Before Jason can stop Kingdom, the Team Leader whips him at the steel cage, launching him face first into the mesh wall. Jason bounces off the steel and collapses to the mats while Christian moves to avenge him.

Instead he receives a knee to the gut and gets grabbed by the back of the head, being charged at the cage as well. He’s thrown into the wall, bouncing off of it as the title belts slip from his shoulders and fall to the mats below. Kingdom takes him by the belt, the one supporting his pants and not crafted out of gold, leading him towards the cage door.

He rolls the World Champion into the squared circle and then slides in after him. The Team Leader salivates at the thought of disfiguring the man who stole his championship, not once, but TWICE.

Comeau: Kingdom has got Savior right where he wants him. They’re trapped inside of the cage and there’s nowhere for Savior to go. Christmas comes early for the Team Leader.

Susie: And Savior’s his present? That’s like getting a lump of coal.

A disorientated Savior rises to his knees, all shaken up and unaware of the boot traveling straight at his face. The boot connects to Savior’s nose, knocking him to his back where he writhes in pain. But according to Johnny, he’s yet to experience real suffrage. Obvious by the look in Kingdom’s eyes and the snapping of his knuckles, he’s got much more in store for the double champion.

A battered Christian starts to stand but regrets getting to his feet when Kingdom moves in for a roaring elbow. Unfortunately Johnny twists around right into a diamond cutter from Savior. To a wail from the crowd, Kingdom’s face is planted to the canvas and his body flops to his back, lying there in a dreamlike trance.

Mark: Savior taking down the Team Leader finally after Johnny got a little TOO confident. Now he’s out numbered and at the mercy of the Infection.

A recovered Wheeler slides into the ring and assists Christian to his feet, both men quickly laying into the prone Team Leader with boots. The stomps continue to inflict punishment as Johnny tries desperately to protect himself. It’s all in vain though, Kingdom unable to block the blows from connecting.

He’s now dragged to his feet still being punched and stomped in the process. As soon as the Team Leader gets to his knees, Wheeler takes out a pear of handcuffs, pointing at the cage wall. Christian removes a pear of cuffs as well, obviously they’re going to chain Johnny to the mesh and leave him ENTIRELY at their mercy.

Moore: Ewww, they got handcuffs. I think my areolas just got erect.

Comeau: Kingdom about to be chained to the cage and absolutely BRUTALIZED. Something needs to be done about this before he’s crippled by the Infection.

As they near the cage is suddenly begins to ascend towards the rafters, Savior and Wheeler looking stunned that it’s leaving. They watch it rise towards the rafters in confusion.

Mark: Somebody raising the cage, I guess Krissie and Sallie protecting their contender for the title.

The Infection members mumble obscenities, distracted just long enough for Nathan Creed and Orlando Cruze to slide into the ring behind him. The fans are ubber excited by the presence of the former tag team champions and life long friends, especially as they try to get heir hands on the World and Cartel Champions.

Comeau: Savior and Wheeler WANTED men here tonight, now Cruze and Creed are going after them and surprisingly coming to Kingdom’s aid.

Savior catches a glimpse of the titantron, prompting him to drop Johnny and charge at the ropes, diving through them. Jason copies his brother’s act, promptly abandoning the beat down on the Team Leader. He and Christian quickly head towards the back, standing on the ramp and shouting at 3N.

Comeau: Orlando and Nathan chasing off the Conspiracy, boy I can’t wait until there’s no more running at Paranoia VI.

Moore: Are their ankles going to be broken by Kathy Bates?

Savior and Wheeler continue to shout insults from a safe distance while their Paranoia opponents approach Kingdom. Orlando surprisingly extends his palm to the seated Team Leader and after several moments Kingdom finally takes hold of it. He then pushes the hand away and lunges to his feet, immediately coming face to face with the Icon.

Kingdom: I didn’t ask for your GOD DAMN help, Cruze.

Orlando smiles from so widely his grin could circle Jupiter several times.

Orlando: Maybe I saved you so you would be 100% at Paranoia VI, just in case it comes down to the two of us, one on one.

The idea amuses Johnny, but he only entertains the concept long enough to be spun around and receive a ball of spit to the face. Nathan launched the goober right between Kingdom’s eyes.

Comeau: WOW! Why on God’s green earth did Nathan just do that?

Susie: He’s trying to give Kingdom a bath?

As the saliva seeps down Johnny’s face and flows over the tip of his nose he remains stoic, utterly emotionless. Orlando responds much differently, immediately bombarding Creed with questions, asking him what he was thinking. Nathan provides no response, he just continues to glare intensely at Kingdom.

Neither of the Icon’s partner’s utter a word as he tries to separate them as a precaution, forcing Nathan backwards across the ring. Kingdom watches this through wide eyes before finally reaching down and taking the microphone Psycho dropped to the ring.

Kingdom: Nathan, if that’s the way you want it, I say that when we fight tonight, we lower that cage back down to the ring.

He points up the steel amongst a loud ovation from the fans, utterly enthralled at the prospect of seeing Creed and Kingdom clash in the cage. As Nathan’s spit dries on the Team Leader’s face the Future nods and does so with enthusiasm.

Comeau: My God, we don’t have to wait till Paranoia VI to see a Steel Cage Match, Kingdom challenging Creed to settle this in the cage tonight and that’s just what they’re going to do. That match just became even BIGGER!

Moore: Just like Louie Anderson’s waistline.

Orlando is hassling his partner, asking him what he’s thinking accepting such a challenge. No answers are provided, Creed just continuing to make eye contact with a frozen Kingdom. Both men anxiously await the Steel Cage main event now set for tonight.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Our Independence Day

LITERAL VS. METAPHORICAL

Nathan Creed’s back is aimed towards the camera as he confidently swaggers away from the gorilla position. He doesn’t get very far before he’s grabbed by the shoulder and spun around by long time friend, Orlando Cruze. The Icon is slightly out of breathe from having to catch up with the Future, but that doesn’t stop him from cutting loose with a verbal onslaught.

Orlando: What the hell is wrong with you?

Creed feigns confusion, gesturing to himself before checking over both shoulders.

Cruze: Yes, YOU.

Creed: Uhhh, I don’t know what your talking about. I didn’t do anything wrong.

The nonchalance in his tone and the dismissive shrug of Creed’s shoulders leaves Orlando flabbergasted.

Orlando: Nothing wrong? NOTHING WRONG? You SPIT in Kingdom’s face.

Nathan: Yeah, so?

Cruze: So we went out there to extend an olive branch of peace. I wanted us all to get on the same page so we could be unified against the Conspiracy.

Creed: Kingdom and I on the same page? Your living in a dream world, Cruze.

Orlando throws his hands into the air, giving up.

Nathan: I literally did what he metaphorically did to you, partner. He’s been spitting in your face and disrespecting you time and time again, and even when you bury your pride and went out to save him, he shows NO appreciation. I wasn’t going to have him insult you on your very last night here on Riot!

Orlando: Ohhhh BULLSHIT.

Now it’s Nathan who is taken aback by such bluntness.

Cruze: Don’t make this about me. You did what you did out of petty hatred for Kingdom.

Nathan: He would have done FAR worse to us if given the opportunity.

Orlando: He still might, now that you went off the deep end and accepted a cage match against him. A friggin CAGE MATCH.

Creed: Relax, relax. You got nothing to worry about.

Orlando: Oh, let’s see, both of my partners are about to destroy each other just a week before we face the Conspiracy in Steel Cage Elimination. You two are pretty much guaranteeing the Conspiracy a win.

A hearty laugh emanates from his partner before Creed slaps his palm down to Orlando’s shoulder.

Nathan: Are you listening to yourself? Your all bent out of shape about nothing. My actions tonight have all but ensured one of us walks away with the World Title at Paranoia VI. I’ve pretty much made it a certainty that it’ll come down to the two of US fighting over the World Championship, as we’ve had planned all our careers.

Orlando struggles to understand Nathan’s madness.

Cruze: Uhhh, I’m not seeing the logic here.

Creed: Having Kingdom in that match with us is too much of a liability. He would turn on us the second he gets a chance. By taking him out in the cage tonight, I’m protecting us and this WHOLE company. We won’t have to keep worrying about Johnny’s intentions at Paranoia, we can focus entirely on eliminating the Conspiracy, then fighting it out for the World Championship. SEE, there’s always a method to my madness.

Orlando: I’m stunned….

Nathan nods enthusiastically.

Cruze: I’m stunned you actually think your doing the right thing.

The nodding stops.

Orlando: Rather you want to face the cold hard truth or not, we NEED Kingdom at Paranoia VI.

Nathan: WHAT!?! Are you on something? He’s a backstabbing, manipulative piece of shit who only cares about the Championship, not taking out the Conspiracy.

Cruze: You made my point for me. He cares more about the World Title than ANYTHING. He’ll be more motivated than ever before at Paranoia, and believe me, when Kingdom’s motivated he’s damn near UNSTOPPABLE. He’ll help us rid the IWC of the Conspiracy once and for all, then we can decide a NEW World Champion.

This time its Nathan who struggles with Cruze’s logic.

Creed: He’s far too much of a loose cannon. I can’t let him risk….

Orlando: Taking him out would be RISKING everything, it would give the Conspiracy a greater number’s advantage. I don’t want to leave that match open to chance. I don’t want give them any further advantages going into Steel Cage Elimination. As long as we’re a unified front, and at 100% there’s no way they’ll emerge triumphant. If I’m willing to put my ego aside and admit that Johnny’s involvement in the cage is a necessity, then so should you.

Nathan deliberates on it for a while before finally throwing his arms out to his sides.

Nathan: I’m sorry, I just don’t get it.

An exasperated sigh is emitted from the Icon.

Creed: I still think its smarter that I just ELIMINATE Kingdom tonight, and we can go into Paranoia worry free.

Orlando: Fine. I’m just going to have to make sure that doesn’t happen.

Nathan: What?

Cruze: I’m going to be right there at ringside to make sure you two DON’T destroy each other, and that we can ALL make it to Paranoia.

Orlando brushes past Creed and makes his way down the corridor. He leaves a very confused expression draped over his partner’s features. Obviously the Future is unsure what to make of Orlando’s decree.

PORNO LAD VS. CHRISTIAN SAVIOR

“Falling in the Black” now erupts over the PA system, resulting in you guessed it, BOOS. Actually, to call them boos would be putting it too mildly, their more like four letter words, or combinations of four letter words that cannot be repeated on television. Much of the obscenities originate from Christian Savior himself as the World Heavyweight, and Tag Team Champion storms through the curtains to the stage. With belts hung from both palms he maliciously cuts loose with insults at the security guards who have FORCED him from the safety of the backstage area to the chaos of the ring.

Mark: Christian doesn’t look as if he’s fully recovered from that attack a few moments ago, but regardless Sallie & Krissie’s privately funded security taskforce is MAKING him come to the ring for his scheduled match. This guy would do anything to weasel out of not having to compete. He’d probably sell his own grandmother.

Susie: I did that once but all I got in return were foodstamps.

Comeau: I’m glad somebody is forcing Savior to play by the rules, and I hope we see ANOTHER upset like last week where Porno Lad pinned the World Heavyweight Champion. Is it wrong for me to wish bad things happen to Savior after his actions here on commentary earlier tonight?

Moore: No, is it wrong to send naked pictures of yourself to Bill Clinton?

Mark: Um, yes.

Susie: Oh.

Savior is still shouting to anyone who can hear him, or more importantly, anyone who is still listening that he is far too shaken up for this match to start now, and that forcing him to compete is a breach of his contract. Nevertheless he removes his expensive designer shirt and tosses it into the face of the referee, his lower extremities still clothed in blue jeans.

The words “How about I just do whatever I want” boom through the arena speakers and then Original Prankster blasts through the speakers. Porno Lad steps out from behind the curtain wearing an expensive white leather jacket. Oddly none of his entourage accompanies him to the ring this evening, surprisingly coming out entirely on his own.

Until the break of dawn
Life, life, cannot go by the letter
Time, time, Prozac can make it better
Noise, noise, any kind will do
Can you feel it slip away, well it's all on you

As he walks he smirks confidently pointing to the crowd and then shaking his head in an expression that just says “you just want to be like me.” He rubs the N.H.B title belt wrapped around his neck all the while, showing it off to the screaming fans.

Crime, crime, rockin' like Janet Reno
Time, time, eighteen and life in Chino
Freud, Freud, all alone it's true
Well you see the coming day catches up to you, yeah

Porno lad stops and throws out his arms in conjunction with an explosion of pyrotechnics that rock the staging area.

CHORUS:
Knock down the walls-
It's alive in you
Knock down the place-
You're alone it's true
Knock down the world-
It's alive in you
You're gonna keep your head up through it all
You're gonna bust out on it-
Original Prankster
Break out, yeah-
Original, yeah
Bust out on it-
Original Prankster
You'll never stop now, stop now, that's what the main men say

Comeau: Porno Lad scored a HUGE win over Savior last week on Riot!, which we thought eliminated the Infection from the gauntlet for the Tag Titles, but of course the Conspiracy found a way to get back into that match and win the belts. Hopefully if Porno Lad hits that Epic Fail tonight Savior will be put down for the remainder of the evening.

Moore: Why is Porno Lad hobbling? Is his leg made out of plastic? I like plastic, even though it doesn’t taste very good. Damn decorative plastic fruit baskets.

Mark: You bring up a good point, Porno Lad may not even be able to hit that Epic Fail, as apparently during the week his ankle was assaulted at the hands of Hurse, a man he’ll be facing in a Last Man Standing Match at Paranoia VI.

The N.H.B Champion slips under the ropes and into the ring, not even having time to remove his belt from his neck before Savior pounces on him. The World Champion dives across the ring with a double axehandle to Porno’s back, bringing him to his chest and stomach across the canvas.

Comeau: Oh come on now, Savior assaulting Porno Lad before he could even get all the way in the ring.

Moore: Yeah, at the very least wait until his back is turned to attack him, DUH’.

A ferocious Christian acts the part of an untamed animal, throwing forearm shots with both arms repeatedly over Porno Lad’s back. He is trying to keep him down on the canvas and make him easy pickings. He rises to his feet at this point and begins delivering stomps to the back of Porno Lad’s head and his shoulders. The rapid fire blows seem to be doing the trick, the prankster unable to so much as get to a knee. Savior adds insult to injury by snatching up the N.H.B Title, spitting on it and throwing it to the outside of the ring.

Savior takes full advantage of Porno Lad’s instability.

Christian: You didn’t pin me last week, nobody pins the Champ, especially not some mid-card comedy act like….

Before the sentence can be finished, Porno Lad delivers a jaw rattling uppercut to the Champion’s mouth, shutting him up. The unexpected blow staggers Savior, who wraps both hands around his jaw in pain, unaware that Porno Lad has reached his feet and is going for a step up enzugari.

Porno Lad has forgotten his ankle injury though, and lives to regret it. Savior ducks the inbound boot of his opponent, causing the Prankster to crash to his chest and stomach on the canvas with nothing to show for his maneuver. Christian moves in with the speed of a jungle cat, grabbing the injured leg of Porno Lad, folding it up and around his own leg then dropping back. He snaps the ankle and the knee of the controversial N.H.B Champ, who grits his teeth through the pain.

Christian stands up with his back still turned towards the prankster, and his leg still wrapped around Porno Lad’s. He falls back yet again and does serious damage to the ankle. A loud roar of pain emanates from the Lad as a result.

Mark: Porno Lad’s injured ankle already being targeted by the technical wizard Christian Savior.

Moore: Oh no, I hope he doesn’t turn Porno Lad into a rabbit. Although I could feed him cabbage and pick up his little poopies, which would be fun.

The mangled ankle of Porno Lad is further exploited by his crafty opponent, Savior breaking the modified leg lock, turning to face the source of his opponent’s agony and dropping an elbow right into it.

The Rising Phoenix rushes to his feet, lifting Porno Lad’s leg up into the air and then dropping elbow first into it once again. The ankle is sandwiched viciously between the canvas and the point of the elbow.

That’s when Savior rushes to his feet, grabs the ankle and then drops to his back, grapevining Porno Lad’s knee while applying the Brazilian heel hook. A groan escapes Porno Lad’s lungs as he sits up on the canvas, biting his lower lip and digging his fingers into his palms.

Comeau: Heel hook applied by Savior, we could see a quick tap out victory for the World Champion exploiting the injuries inflicted by Hurse.

Porno’s face is the picture of agony, his ankle almost snapped at the hands of the maniacal Savior. Submission seems to be a certainty, his palm reaching into the air to slap the canvas. His fingers shake above the squared circle, moments from connecting with the ring and signifying that he does indeed quit.

Somehow he holds on though, fighting through his desires to submit and slowly beginning to twist his body from side to side. He rocks himself and the World Champion, Christian still pugnaciously clamping onto the ankle with the heel hook.

Once again Savior finds himself shocked by Porno Lad, who rolls completely over onto his stomach, pulling Christian along and reversing the heel hook into a Boston Leg Crab. A roar of agony escapes Christian’s mouth, pushing himself up onto his fists and shaking his head in a desperate state.

Comeau: Reversal, REVERSAL by Porno Lad into the leg crab. I didn’t even think the N.H.B Champion knew holds like these?

Moore: He’s got a leg crab? Ummm. I don’t think I’ll be going out on a date with him then.

Before the desire to tap becomes too strong, Savior scrambles across the canvas and reaches for the bottom rope, wrapping his hand around it. Porno Lad drops to his knees, his ankle no longer capable of holding his body upright. Despite the physical toll this match is taking on him, Porno Lad reaches his feet, hobbles and waits for Christian to get up.

The quick witted World Champ rolls under the ropes to the outside though, preventing his opponent from furthering his comeback. That’s when Porno Lad pulls himself over the top rope into a senton plancha that connects right against Savior’s shoulder. Both men crash to the mats with the crowd exploding into cheers.

Christian lays on the mats eyes fluttering as he fights against unconsciousness. Porno Lad however, is already limping back to his feet, turning towards Susie and waving affectionately in her direction. Moore tries to hide her blushing behind her palms.

Mark: Um, what was that all about?

Moore: Mind you P’s and Q’s mister.

Comeau: That wasn’t an answer.

Susie: Don’t ask, don’t tell.

Mark: That was just an army slogan.

Moore: Knowing is half the battle.

Comeau: Forget it, I cross the line at GI Joe references.

Porno Lad guides Savior to his feet and rolls him back into the ring, gingerly climbing back up onto the apron in the process. He begins to slide through the ropes into the ring, his head already through the cables when Christian surprisingly gets up and charges in, delivering a knee strike to the N.H.B Champ’s face.

The blow echoes throughout the arena, Porno Lad wavering back and forth as he leans over the middle cable. Savior pulls up on his head so that it’s in perfect position then goes charging into the ropes perpendicular cables. He bounces off the ropes and comes rushing back at Porno Lad for yet another knee strike to the temple.

Somehow Porno Lad pulls his head back just in time, reaches through the cables, catches Savior by the back of the knee and sweeps his leg up into the air. As a result Savior looses his footing and crashes onto his back while Porno Lad jumps from the apron, pulling himself over the top rope into a hot shot senton.

Mark: Porno Lad’s speed, even while wrestling with one leg, perhaps too much for Christian to handle.

Moore: Too hot to handle, too cold to hold. Are those the lyrics to the Ghost Busters song or the Vanilla Ice song? Are they secretly the same thing?

Comeau: You’re an idiot.

Susie: Good thing I’m sexy then.

Every rib in Christian’s mid-section is inflamed as he once again tries to roll to the outside and create some distance between himself and his opponent.

Porno Lad: ELBOW MADNESS!

Porno Lad moves in and delivers repeated elbow strikes to the temple and top of Christian’s head, preventing him from escaping the ring. A disorientated Christian gets to his feet with forearms blasting his chest and connecting with the sides of his skull. Both of Porno Lad’s arms are employed to deliver these blows, before a hobbling prankster spins around into a roaring forearm.

To the shock of everyone in the arena, Savior has the wherewithal to duck the inbound elbow. He steps forward slightly pleased with himself before turning around and spotting Porno Lad jumping with one leg to the middle cable then springing off into a back elbow.

The blow connects and knocks Christian to the canvas amongst many screams from the crowd. Porno Lad hops to one foot and slaps his elbow repeatedly.

Porno Lad: Best part of the body, excluding the penis, or if you’re a woman, the jugs.

Porno Lad hobbles towards the laid out Christian and delivers an elbow drop to his sternum. The pain causes the Rising Phoenix to sit up, cradling his sternum within his arms. That’s before Porno Lad rises to a foot and lunges forward into a low lariat that connects to the throat, knocking Christian right back down to his back.

Porno Lad gets up at this point and connects with a second elbow drop. He now rolls to his feet and lifts his arm for a third drop of the elbow only to have Christian sit up in an attempt to escape him. To laughter from the crowd, Porno Lad never even attempted to drop the elbow, he just stands over the seated Savior with his arm raised into the air.

Porno Lad: Gotcha!

He now dives forward and hits a dropkick on the World Champion’s chest, knocking him down to the canvas once again. In one quick fluid motion, Porno Lad rises to his feet and connects with the third elbow drop, causing Savior to writhe on the ring like he were just shot with a taser.

Porno Lad: I can keep this up all night BABY!

These bragging words are shouted as Porno Lad regains his footing and slaps his elbow.

Moore: Porno Lad’s elbow is amazing, it has no dirt rings on it or nothing.

Mark: He’s dishing out some punishment with that piece of his anatomy.

Susie: Here’s hoping he dishes out some punishment on me with a different part of his anatomy. Te-he-he.

Porno Lad limps in the World Champion’s direction as Savior sluggishly drags himself up the ropes. He gets up in time to be hit with another elbow strike to the jaw then be whipped off across the ring. Savior bounces off the far cables and comes back in at Porno Lad who lunges into the air and hits a diving elbow strike to the face.

Christian is taken down to the canvas while Porno Lad lunges to a foot and brags once again. His screams elicit a loud reaction from the crowd, overjoyed that he’s absolutely taking it to the World Champion. Savior is all shaken up as he struggles towards his feet only to walk right into a bionic elbow to the top of the head.

The shot has him staggered as Porno Lad delivers a second bionic elbow. The shots have Christian reeling but he is not taking down as of yet. Therefore, Porno Lad shakes off the pain in his ankle and rushes backwards into the ropes, bouncing off and rushing forward for a third bionic elbow.

Sadly he runs right into a boot to the ribs, doubling him over. Christian steps to Porno Lad’s side and delivers a straight boot to his temple, sending him into a spin. As the N.H.B Champ rotates, Christian bounces off the ropes charges in and connects with a devastating boot square to his nose. The strike knocks Porno Lad to his back, his head rattled by the blows.

A flustered Savior turns to overlook the audience and throws his arms out to his sides, motioning with his fingers for the crowd to show him praise. They only show him hatred.

Mark: No love for Savior.

Moore: His mother probably didn’t even breast feed him. My mother didn’t, but that’s only because breast milk is too fattening.

Porno Lad sluggishly begins to rise to his feet, getting one leg beneath him when Savior swoops in, folds his heel to his thigh and hoists him up into the air. He drops Porno Lad ankle first right across the raised knee of the World Champion, sending him into a screaming fit. He tosses and turns, hands groping his ankle from the pain.

Comeau: Savior going right back to the ankle, picking up where he started this match off.

Once again Porno Lad finds his ankle being stretched out across the canvas completely at the mercy of his vindictive opponent. Savior lives up to his reputation, stomping at the ankle repeatedly until he’s almost sure he’s grounded the bones into dust.

In agony Porno Lad reaches for his leg, screaming out towards the crowd.

Porno Lad: I’ll never be able to hopscotch again!

Christian boots him to the face, taking him back down across his spine. Christian drops down and hooks both of Porno Lad’s legs, hoping the pain from his ankle was enough to render the N.H.B Champ unconscious.

Porno Lad kicks out, getting his shoulder up and trying to reach his feet once again, despite the horrible wounds inflicted on his leg. Somehow he does get up, flailing his arms to remain upright, then limps towards Savior only to be dropkicked straight to the ankle.

The blow takes Porno Lad down to the ring once again writhing in anguish. It’s at this point that Savior moves in and wraps the injured leg of his opposition around his own. A modified ankle lock is established at this point with Christian’s back turned towards Porno Lad, and the prankster’s leg wrapped around one of the World Champion’s, his ankle being awkwardly twisted as a result.

Comeau: Almost a spinning toe hold here without the rotations. He’s really putting a lot of pressure onto that ankle. There may be no more fight left in Porno’s tank.

Moore: I wish I had a tank, I’d so go all rampage, just like in Grand Theft Auto. I’ve tried doing things from video games in real life and that seems like the easiest. I can’t tell you how many bruises I’ve gotten challenging random neighbors to team death matches.

Mark: That was the longest punch line ever.

Porno Lad now begins to twist to his side, trying his best to find an avenue of escape. Savior plugs the hole, doing so by altering his submission. He hooks the N.H.B Champion’s leg around the back of his neck and applies a Queen Angelito Stretch, again wrenching on the ankle.

Comeau: Another inventive hold applied by the Rising Phoenix. Just hang in there a little bit longer Porno Lad.

A despondent Porno Lad digs his claws firmly into the canvas, drawing himself closer and closer to the ropes. Each movement is agonizing, and the closer he gets to the cables the more oomph Savior puts behind the hold. He relishes in the pending tap out, the ultimate revenge for Porno Lad pinning him last week.

Much to the crowd’s delight the rambunctious Lad grabs the bottom rope and prevents himself from having to tap out.

Susie: YAY! The ropes saved Porno Lad. Those cables are nice, I’d bake them a pie if I hadn’t accidentally gotten trapped in my oven multiple times. I think my oven is trying to eat me.

Christian steps back and tries to pull Porno Lad by his ankle to the center of the ring. However, the N.H.B Champion grips desperately to the bottom rope with both hands at this point, holding on for all he’s worth. He realizes that if he releases the cables he’ll be pulled to the middle of the ring, trapped in a hold and forced to tap out, and that just wouldn’t be the FACE thing to do.

The more Christian tugs on the ankle the further Porno Lad has to reach up on the ropes. He grabs the middle one then the top cable, eventually ending up standing on one foot and hopping up and down desperately. Finally he releases the top rope then lunges into the air, twisting around and nailing an enzugari to Savior’s skull.

The blow echoes throughout the arena, leaving Christian shaking like a leaf on a branch during a monsoon. He stumbles and staggers back and forth, trying to regain his senses while Porno Lad stands then lunges from one foot into a spinning heel kick.

The heel nails Savior under the jaw, taking the World Champion to the canvas and bringing the fans out of their seats. Porno Lad now rolls across the canvas, gripping at his ankle and untying his boot, trying to put as little pressure on it as possible.

Mark: Porno Lad beginning to stage a bit of a comeback despite all of the physicality inflicted on his ankle.

Moore: Maybe he should drink a couple of eggs, that’s essential to any comeback apparently, that and beating meat.

Comeau: I’m sure Porno Lad has done plenty of that.

The agony Porno Lad is experiencing is worse than watching a Lifetime movie. Despite the crippling pain, he gets to his feet and lays in wait behind his rising opponent. A dazed Christian gets up when Porno Lad goes for the Epic Fail to finish him off for the second straight show in a row.

Right before the boot can connect Porno Lad cries out in pain, his ankle almost snapping as he tries to put weight on it. As a result he turns his back on Savior and reaches down for his ankle only to be caught around the head and dropped into a reverse face buster.

Porno Lad crashes across the back of his skull with great force while Savior squirms into the lateral press.

Porno Lad launches his shoulder from the ring, kicking out just seconds before the three count. A flustered Savior stands and grunts as a result before sinking his fingers into the Champion’s bangs and leading him to his feet. The moment he stands Christian lunges into the air going for the diamond cutter.

The crowd abandons all hope before Porno Lad twists his body out of the cutter predicament at the last second and pulls Savior down into the backslide.

Christian kicks out, dropping over onto his knees as Porno Lad begins to stand up in front of him. That’s when Savior lunges to his feet and charges in for a spear only to have his opponent leap frog him, catch Christian round his waist and pull the World Champion down into a sunset flip pinning predicament.

Again Savior just barely gets his shoulders off of the canvas, preventing near defeat.

Comeau: Two big counters by Porno Lad almost picking up the win for not only himself but the entire IWC roster. How is this man doing it?

Moore: I think Porno Lad has super powers, he must have interacted with a lot of radioactive materials lately, or been hit with some kind of cosmic magic ray, or merged with a computer.

Before Savior can get up, Porno Lad rises to his feet and hooks his arms around the World Champion’s knees. He now drops back, catapulting Christian through the air and into the ropes. He hits the top cable throat first, bouncing off and twisting towards Porno Lad who once again goes for the Epic Fail standing on his good leg this time.

As he tries to put thrust into his battered wheel he winches and hesitates, leaving his damaged ankle lingering into the air, prime picking for Savior. He catches hold of it, twists the leg and pulls Porno down to the canvas applying the ankle lock.

Comeau: Porno Lad caught in the ankle lock! It’s over, Savior is going to earn the submission.

Moore: Don’t submit Porno Lad, this time resistance isn’t futile. Don’t be assimilated!

As his ankle is ripped and torn beyond repair, Porno Lad forces himself to his palms, ducks his head and rolls forward, launching Savior across the ring.

Susie: Yippee! Someone teach me how to use this kazoo.

Comeau: Porno Lad escaping the ankle lock just moments before tapping out.

Porno Lad gets to his feet in a dazed, all fired up before he turns right into the Code Breaker by Christian. Porno Lad’s face blasts against the raised knees, knocking him to his back where he lays motionless. A very eager Christian slides in and hooks both legs for the pinfall.

Porno Lad has been defeated, he’s done, wait NO! The N.H.B Champion has launched a shoulder from the canvas, kicking out with just seconds to spare. An emotional Savior sits up on the canvas, fingers raised in the official’s face.

Comeau: Savior almost had Porno Lad bested but he AGAIN kicks out. What a match these two are having.

Moore: It’s got me so emotional, this must be how being on a period feels. Not that I would know, one of the fringe benefits of not eating.

A very flustered Christian rises to his feet and takes Porno by his bangs, dragging him up to his feet then booting him to the ribs. The Prankster is doubled over as Savior goes charging into the ropes beside him, bouncing off then going for a running boot.

Porno Lad side steps the inbound boot, moves behind Savior and clamps his arms about his waist. He is going for a German but can’t put any pressure on his ankle, prompting Savior to perform a standing switch. With a malicious grin on his face he hoists Porno Lad into the air only to have the N.H.B Champion duck his head and drop forward. He actually rolls Savior up, seated on his chest and holding down the back of his legs.

The entire arena is in a wave of shock, the crowd jumping for joy as Porno Lad has just pinned the World Heavyweight Champion AGAIN.

Comeau: WOW! WHOA! Porno Lad…just..just, he beat Savior!

Moore: This is like a Lifetime movie of the week come true.

The Manhattan Center almost throws a party thanks to this abrupt pinfall, Porno Lad now rolling across the canvas and under the ropes. He gets out of harm’s way, hopping on one foot in the process as the official grabs him by the wrist, lifting his arm aloft. An absolutely flustered, shocked Savior watches from the ring, gripping at his hair.

Mark: This has not been a good night for the Conspiracy on the eve of Paranoia VI. The World Champion has been beaten for a second week in a row by Porno Lad. Another shocking upset.

Porno Lad’s grin is so wide it cut could the earth in two. He celebrates despite his hobbling, try to dance to his entrance theme the best he can while Savior watches the whole debacle unfold in a rage.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Prepare to be REPOSSESSED

FINDER’S KEEPERS

Loud groans emanate from the bodies strewn across the concrete. Laying side by side in an equal amount of agony are Aurora Rose and David Freak. They appear to be badly damaged victims of a savage beating. One would think that Psycho eventually caught up with the conniving pear, but appearances are often deceiving.

It wasn’t Psycho who left them broken and depraved of the Cartel Title, instead it’s none other than Axl Evermore who dished out the punishment.

Axl: It’s about time we were reunited.

The camera pans out from his smiling face to the Cartel Championship draped over his shoulder. His fingers slip down the golden plate before tapping the surface.

Evermore: We’ve been apart for far too long. I can’t wait to hear all about your adventures. And after Paranoia VI, we’ll have A LOT of quality time together to reminisce.

Axl swaggers towards the exit to the building, wearing the cheesiest of cheesy grins and joined by the Cartel Championship. Aurora and David continue to grunt and moan as Evermore marches away with the belt they just stole a few moments earlier.

BURNT OFFERINGS

The fans are unanimous in their frustration, forced to bear witness to Hurse. “House of the Rising Sun” is once again playing in the background while he looms inside of the squared circle, his usual entrance cut out. To make matters worse, he’s now joined in the ring by Jackson Adams and Katelyn Buehler. While Adams is present of his own accord, and almost gleeful, Katelyn is held in the ring by her arm, and is anything but happy to be there.

Mark: Hurse and his gaggle of idiots now in the ring, as he’s apparently got something on his mind. What that is, I don’t particularly want to hear, and I’m sure will make no sense anyway.

Moore: I hate people who don’t make any sense. That’s why I never listen to Paula Abdul.

The display of solidarity amongst the crowd does not rattle the former World Champion, who squeezes the mic just like he squeezes Katelyn’s shoulder.

Hurse: I came out here to tell each and everyone of you that what you saw happen earlier was a fluke, nothing more.

He swipes his hand through the air, insinuating that his loss was a mere accident.

Hurse: I was BLINDED by love you see, and that’s how Wheeler got the drop on me.

A struggling Buehler is pulled in close to Hurse’s side and pinned there.

Hurse: How could I be expected to concentrate when my feisty little wife is at ringside, rooting me on?

She tries to utter a string of obscenities but is subdued by Hurse.

Hurse: I love it when you talk dirty. I’m not upset about what happened a few moments ago, no, no, far from it, because now I’m more motivated than ever to get back to my dominant ways, and to do so by beating Porno Lad at Paranoia VI. By being the Last Man Standing! Your gonna be my catalyst BOY, my springboard back to success.

Instead of looking demoralized, Hurse is positively brimming with joy. His teeth could light a black hole as he grins towards the atmosphere.

Hurse: So Porny, you DAYTIME LANTERN….

Mark: I think he just crossed a line with that one.

Moore: I never cross lines, or step on them, I’ve been warned many times that it could break my momma’s back.

Hurse: I’m actually out here to apologize. NOT for what I’m going to do to you at Paranoia, because frankly you deserve everything that happens to you and more. You locked me in a friggin closet with Bob, BOB, and he was eating white castles, WHITE CASTLES. I still haven’t got the smell of his flatulence out of my hair.

The thought of his stinky hair, which should have a biohazard sign plastered across it, is particularly depressing for Parkwood. Nevertheless, he bucks up and tries to get back to his point.

Hurse: But I digress. What I want to apologize for, is not giving you the chance to enjoy my wedding last week. I mean, you were unconscious through half of it.

He chuckles alongside Jackson, both men particularly proud of his bible thumping last week. Katelyn doesn’t share their sentiment.

Hurse: Hahahaha, so you didn’t get the chance to see Katelyn and I smooching to seal the deal.

He puckers up towards Buehler, she looks so disgusted that she could vomit if there were food in her stomach. Thank goodness for anorexia.

Hurse: And I didn’t give you the opportunity to congratulate on us on our union. So I tell you what Porny, here’s your opportunity to come out here, offer us your best wishes, maybe give me our wedding gift, and then watch as Katelyn and I reenact our passionate kiss.

Jackson lifts up on Katelyn’s chin seeing as Hurse’s hands are occupied. She pulls her head away from his fingers and continues to struggle against the Master of Control’s grasp.

Hurse: Come on, as my wedding planner you should be FIRST in line to congratulate us. Don’t worry, I won’t lay you out this week, I want you to be conscious to hear all about our honeymoon plans…..

Porno Lad: Ahem, Ahem…

All eyes shift to the titantron which is consumed by the image of a sweaty Porno Lad. Instead of being enraged he wears a smile gleaming enough to challenge Hurse’s in terms of brightness.

Moore: Oh no, it’s the attack of the 60 foot Porno Lad!

Comeau: He’s just on the big screen, Susie.

The ever so pompous Porno Lad carries on, his arrogance slightly unsettling the Master of Control.

Porno Lad: Normally I would take you up on your offer Steven, I’d jump at the chance to be in the same ring with YOU, but alas, I’m just too busy.

Hurse: BUSY? How could you be too busy for me, HURSE! I’m fondling your ex girlfriend here for Christ sakes, get angry, get jealous, cry damn you, CRY!

No matter how far Hurse flies off the handle Porno Lad’s behavior is unaltered.

Porno Lad: Don’t worry, I have a good excuse so chillax.

Hurse: There’s no excuse….

Porno Lad: Nuh nuh.

A palm is raised into the air, Porno Lad getting excited.

Porno Lad: Don’t be so quick to make assumptions. After all, assumptions make an ass out of you and m…well, more-so you than me. Actually I don’t think anybody or anything could make an ass out of me, I’m just too damn cool. Like Fonzerelli cool, or Stefan Urkel cool. I’m just too hip cat, deal!

The fans chuckle while Hurse does anything but “chillax,” instead he unleashes a guttural growl.

Porno Lad: But let’s save my absolute AWESOMENESS for Tiger Beat and all those other ubber cool magazines who like to report on me OH so frequently. Let’s talk about why I can’t come out there….

Hurse: Thatta be nice.

Porno Lad: And here’s the excuse, it has nothing to do with taking a clobbering a few moments ago. I couldn’t come out there because I was busy decorating your beloved Geo for the wedding.

All anger in Hurse is excreted from his body in the form of a load in his underpants, the emotion replaced by heart-wrenching terror.

Porno Lad: But I’m not just tying a few aluminum cans to your bumper, or spraying “CONGRATULATIONS” in cool whip across the sides doors, no, no, I’m better than that and FAR more creative. So I’ve decided to give your car a complete OVERHAUL. I think I’ll start by personalizing the decorations, beginning with this.

Hurse’s heart leaps into his throat as his cherished Starscream action figure is raised into the air. Porno Lad briefly operates the adjustable arms with much glee.

Porno Lad: I got this out of your bag. Word of advice Hurse, you should seriously put more than a double bolt lock on your dressing room door, its too easy to just walk right in and go rummaging through your personal belongings. We’ll talk about all the hand lotions later….

The crowd laughs as Hurse tries to explain himself, especially to his wife. Katelyn now appears utterly freaked.

Porno Lad: So let’s add your most cherished valuable to your Geo shall we?

The camera pans out at this point to reveal Porno Lad standing beside the Geo Metro being alluded to. Both he and the vehicle are situated outside of the Manhattan Center, the night air looking somewhat frigid this evening. Despite the chill, Porno Lad greatly enjoys sticking the Starscream collectible through the Geo’s open window.

Porno Lad: But what more can I do to make your car even MORE special on this super special night?

To Hurse’s chagrin, Porno Lad is actually dwelling on this thought.

Porno Lad: AH-HA. I know how to make your car really sizzle, how to make it HOT, HOT, HOT!

He bends forward and grabs a bottle from the concrete, filled with alcohol. A rag hangs from the nozzle, making it a true Molotov cocktail.

Porno Lad: Everyone’s going to notice you two, because Hurse, your car is gonna be on FIRE!

Hurse: No, NO, you wouldn’t, don’t you, no, no.

The rag is lit by a conveniently handy lighter and then the bottle is quickly pitched into the same open window Starscream was inserted through. Almost immediately the car bursts into fire, Porno Lad jumping back as a safety precaution.

Hurse: NOOOOOO!!

A shrill screams could echo as far as China, or even into the caves Osama Bin Ladin is hiding in.

Mark: Porno Lad is burning Hurse’s Geo Metro!

Susie: That’s cruel, I can tell you right now that thing had plenty of nice trunk space, I would now after spending several nights sleeping in it.

The flames shoot towards the heaven as Porno Lad steps back, admiring his handiwork. All the while Hurse is on his knees across the canvas, his face blood red, every muscle and vein pulsating through the flesh. He’s almost having a panic attack as Jackson stoops over him, trying feebly to console him.

Porno Lad: Do you see now, Stevie?

Porno Lad turns towards the camera and extends two fingers.

Porno Lad: You car is SMOKIN! Congratulations you two, best wishes.

The crowd cheers as “Original Prankster” plays through the PA system, only adding to Hurse’s dread. The image of the flaming Geo Metro overtakes the screen, causing Hurse to full on hyperventilate.

Hurse: My Geo, my Geo, my GEEEEOOOO!

He screams towards the heaves before falling into Jackson’s arms, Adams actually hugging his friend as if it provides comfort. Unfortunately Hurse is inconsolable after the loss of his Starscream doll, and his Geo. All Katelyn can do is stand back watching her new husband’s behavior with mixed emotions.

Mark: No pun intended but fuel has just been added to the flames of this intense rivalry. Porno Lad defends his N.H.B Championship against Hurse at Paranoia VI, LAST MAN STANDING!

WHO?

That same mysterious figure, face obscured by a towel now treks through the backstage corridors. Unfortunately the camera just can’t seem to get in front of him and provide even the faintest glimpse of his face.

Comeau: What’s this? Once again that mysterious lurker coming into view, but who the hell is he?

Moore: I’m sticking by my original choice. Due to the sheer size of his head, it’s GOT to be the Great Pumpkin.

Mark: Well something tells me we’re going to find out, SOON.

The figure continues to stride forward, unconcerned by his present surroundings. The reason for his presence and his identity remaining as big of a mystery as who shot JR or who framed Roger Rabbit, nevertheless he gives off a sinister aurora.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Beware of the Tax-Man

JACKSON ADAMS & KATELYN BUEHLER
VS.
MAX CRAVEN & ROBIN BROOKS

The show returns live to the ring where Jackson Adams and Katelyn Buehler are STILL standing opposed to one another, bickering. Obviously Jackson is giving her a sermon on the virtues of being a team player while Buehler insists she never wanted to be part of the team in the first place. Thankfully the near sobbing Hurse is no longer present to chime in on these discussions.

Comeau: I see that Buehler hasn’t gotten any warmer to the idea of being married to Hurse and teaming with Adams tonight, no matter how jealous it will make Porno Lad. She and Adams have been standing out here all throughout the break arguing with one another, presumably about what just went down backstage.

Susie: Buehler….Buehler….Buehler…oh God that never gets old, hahaha.

Mark: Thanks for another wonderful follow up.

Jackson continues to read her the riot act, demanding to know if she had ANYTHING to do with what just happened to Hurse’s Geo Metro and his prized Starscream doll.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MAX hops down from the 2nd rope, spinning around and spinning grandiosely (with arms thrust out) to the center of the ring, where his opponents await. Neither Adams nor Buehler are impressed and seem unified by their hatred for the X-Class Champion.

Mark: X-Class Champion Max Craven in the ring, about to face BOTH of his Paranoia VI opponents and show them what they’ll be in store for on the big dance.

Moore: Last time I went to a dance I pooped myself.

Comeau: (sighs) Wonderful.

Susie: It’s okay, nobody noticed, and I just went on dancing.

Craven holds up the X-Class Championship, making sure that BOTH Adams and Buehler can see it. Despite their animosity towards one another, the two are unified in their hatred for Craven and their desire to take away his shinny belt. That’s when “The Game” by Disturbed intrudes on Craven’s egotistical display and the banter between Adams and Buehler. All eyes shift rather promptly to the entry way in anticipation of the Submission Champion’s entrance. But perhaps nobody is as interested as Craven, her tag team partner. His knuckles crack as they form fists and his eyes flame with hatred at the realization he’ll have to team with rival.

Comeau: I don’t quite know how Max and Robin are expected to function as a team….

Moore: Maybe if they combine both halves of their medallions.

Mark: This isn’t Double Dragon, and….wait, where is Robin?

Although her entrance music continues to play there is no sight of the conniving Black Widow. Alarm is raised amongst the fans, while confusion inhabits Max’s eyes. Hoping that she didn’t hear the music the first time, the production truck restarts her entrance theme. Sadly the stage remains empty, no Submission Champion in sight.

Comeau: Oh wonderful, Robin Brooks must be refusing to come out here and compete.

Susie: She can refuse to do her job? How come nobody has told me this? And here I’ve been mustering the energy to half ass it.

Mark: I guess this leaves the X-Class Champion to the wolves, forced to compete in a handicap match.

A sigh exhales from Max’s lungs as the music dies and the realization sets in that he’s on his own. Before he can fully embrace the notion that this is now a handicap match, Adams comes barreling up behind her. He goes for a double axehandle only for Craven’s spidey sense to tingle.

He steps out of the way, swinging his body then connecting with a kick to the back of Adams’ knee. Jackson’s legs are knocked out from under him as he’s sent flying rump first into the turnbuckle. He bounces off of the corner, falls to his back and rolls in reverse right into the waiting arms of Craven who takes him down with a hangman neckbreaker.

Mark: Look at Max go, despite being forced into a 2 on 1 situation he’s getting off to a hot start against Jackson Adams.

Moore: Yep, the two of them wrestling is hot, it makes me wish I had a broom handle and a stick of butter readily available.

Comeau: That’s just….I don’t even think there’s a word to describe how sick that is.

The X-Class Champion keeps his arm wrapped around Adams’ neck, rolling to his side and pulling Jackson along for the ride. Both men get back to their feet with their backs placed against one another, Craven yet again setting up for the hangman neckbreaker.

Before he can connect, Katelyn begrudgingly charges in only to have Max jump into the air and wrap his legs around her neck. He maintains the inverted face lock on Adams while setting up for a head scissors on Buehler. She quickly wedges her hands to the back of his thighs and shoves him up into the air.

Craven flips backwards over the shoulder of Adams, alters his hold into a front chancery and brings him down with a big DDT. The crowd erupts into cheers at the sight of the move as Craven rolls backwards to his feet then dives forward at Buehler, hitting a PERFECT spinning heel kick.

Comeau: Craven still cookin’.

Moore: Aww, but I’m not allowed to eat food. Dust maybe, although it’s entirely too high in calories.

The dominating X-Class Champ rolls across the canvas and overlooks his screaming fans, everyone of them on their feet basking in the joy of his beat-down. He’s just reached his feet when a recovered Jackson comes charging in, going for a right hand.

Craven ducks the inbound fist, catches Jackson’s arm and pulls him down into a backslide.

Adams gets his shoulder off of the canvas, dropping to his knees then lunging forward and hooking both of Max’s arms. The Champion is forced to his feet with Adams desperately trying to connect with his version of the Angel’s Wings.

Before he can hit the move, Max stands up and flips Adams over his back. Jackson lands on his spine with Craven coming down back first against his chest, once again holding him in a pinning predicament.

Craven spots an inbound Buehler, who just throws herself into the air, hoping she’ll hit some type of move. However, Max rolls out of the way and Katelyn inadvertently crashes on top of Jackson with a big splash.

Mark: Woops, that move didn’t work out for Buehler’s team, in fact it just inflicted A LOT of punishment on her partner.

A writhing Adams tries to console his throbbing ribs while Buehler apologizes. Although she shows sympathy she also tries to subdue her grin. Finally she’s forced out of the ring by official Fitzpatrick while Craven steps up behind Jackson, forcing him to his feet and then hooking his arms from behind.

He’s trying to lift him up into the vertibreaker. Just as he gets Adams up though, Jackson flips over backwards, lands on his feet behind Craven, takes him by the arms and twists him around into the unprettier. The X-Class Champion is slammed violently face first against the ring, leaving him spent.

A recovering Adams stands up at this point, staggering towards Buehler and slapping her hand. The force of the tag causes Katelyn to cringe, grabbing at her fingers while slipping through the ropes. Despite the pain in her palm she charges at Craven and begins to stomp down at him repeatedly.

Buehler: How DARE you. I’m PERFECT for your movies.

Buehler takes Craven around the neck and guides him to his feet before dropping to her knees.

Katelyn: HIIIIYYAAA!

A stunned Max is flipped forward, landing on his seat after the snapmare. Behind his back Buehler is fixing her hair and stepping towards referee Fitzpatrick, insinuating that she has a cramp in her thigh. She begs the official to massage it, and the referee doesn’t have to be asked a second time.

The distraction pays off because while the ref busies himself rubbing Katelyn’s leg, behind his back Jackson has entered the ring, grabbed Craven around the neck, bridged him up to his feet only to drop him with a lay-out reverse DDT. The back of Max’s head cracks violently against the canvas, causing him to sit up gripping his skull from the anguish.

Mark: Buehler and Adams bending the rules to inflict pain on the Champion. As we learned on the official IWC website, both Katelyn and Jackson will challenge Max at Paranoia VI for the X-Class Title, giving them further provocation for softening him up tonight.

Moore: But Max can’t be soft, he makes a living out of being hard.

Comeau: Erm yeah.

Jackson quickly vacates the ring and Buehler goes back to work, forcing her leg out of Fitzpatrick’s palms. The referee sniffs his fingers as Katelyn steps towards Craven, takes him around the neck and leads him up to his feet.

Katelyn: HIIIIYAAA!

Again Max is snapmared over onto his rump, causing his posterior to hit the ring forcefully. Katelyn stands behind him, egotistically over looking the audience.

Buehler: ONE more time.

She descends upon Craven, taking him by the hair, leading him up to his feet and going for a third snapmare. Before she can connect this time, Max frees his head from her clutches, bends forward and hooks her arms, lifting her into the air for the Vertibreaker.

The move ends disastrously for Craven yet again as Adams reaches over the ropes, slaps Buehler’s knee then grabs her leg. He pulls her out of Craven’s clutches, causing her to flip over the top rope and land on the apron right beside him.

Max turns around as Jackson grabs Buehler’s belt and her hair, bending her forward and launching her through the ropes, shoulder first into Craven’s ribs. The blow knocks all the air out of the X-Class Champion’s ribs, doubling him over as he exhales in pain.

That’s when Jackson springs to the top rope and goes airborne, flying straight towards his prone opponent. Just before he can connect with any move though, Max lunges from his feet and twists around into a back elbow. The move connects and knocks Adams to the canvas amongst loud screams from the audience.

Mark: Big elbow from Craven taking down the airborne Adams.

Susie: Elbows are not only dangerous, but fun to blow fart sounds into.

The crowd is quite enthused as Craven races to his feet, charges across the ring and drops into a baseball slide that connects with Katelyn’s ankles. Her feet are knocked out from under her and as a result she crashes face first into the apron. The blow disorientates her and damages her surgically perfected nose, yet somehow she remains upright.

The Champion rushes to his feet, grabs the top rope and springs on top of it, ready to dive to the outside and take Buehler out. The moment he lands on the top rope he changes his mind, springing off and twisting around into a crossbody onto a shocked Jackson.

He lands on top of Adams with the crossbody block and gets the crowd out of their seats.

Jackson somehow has the wherewithal to kick out, barely getting his shoulder up in time.

Comeau: Ohhh Craven almost had it, victory was within his grasp.

The Champion stews with anger over the fact that his pinfall did not pay off, but does not allow his disappointment to distract him. He rushes to his feet, takes Jackson’s hair into his hands and sits him up on the canvas. The Manhattan crowd is positively overjoyed as Max rushes backwards into the ropes, going for the Big Stiffy.

Mark: Max looking for that seated blockbuster otherwise known as the Big Stiffy.

Susie: Te-he-he! That’s the greatest name for a move EVER!

As Max bounces off of the cables and prepares to finish off his rival, a set of hands reach under the cables, grabbing his ankle. His feet are ripped out from under him by Buehler, sending Craven crashing forward into the canvas. He splats face first against the ring, knocking him somewhat loopy from the impact.

Katelyn slips in beside him and takes Max around the neck, pulling him up to his feet in a side headlock position. The crowd unleashes their animosity on Buehler as she rushes forward to hit the one handed bulldog. At the last second though, Craven shoves her off and sends Katelyn accidentally charging knee first into the face of a seated Jackson Adams.

The blow knocks Adams to his back with Buehler standing over him yet again looking distraught by her behavior, or at least pretending to be distraught.

Buehler: Woopsie.

Before she reaches it, Craven has stepped up behind her and clamped on a reverse waistlock. He is setting up for a German suplex only to have Katelyn reach out and grab referee Fitzpatrick by the bangs of his hair. The official screams as his locks are almost ripped from his scalp, Katelyn desperately holding on just long enough to reverse mule kick Craven to the groin.

The X-Class Champion turns away from Buehler, stooping over and gripping his genitals. This puts him in perfect position for Katelyn, who releases the official then rushes up behind Max, grabbing him by the head and delivering a one handed bulldog.

Comeau: Buehler’s dreaded bulldog connects, will it be enough to win this match for her team?

Moore: Katelyn has got to be the best wrestler EVER. She knows so many moves, I’ve counted three of them so far.

A smiling Katelyn rises back to her feet, realizing she may actually be able to go for a pin. That’s until Jackson charges up behind her, grabs the back of her head and pitches his own partner through the ropes to the outside of the ring. All the while Jackson verbally degrades her then turns in order to go for the pin.

Unfortunately for Adams his plans go awry, because Craven rolls back, extends his legs and wraps his ankles around Jackson’s head. He pulls him down into a head scissors at this point, flipping Jackson forward and sending him rolling across the canvas.

Mark: I think Jackson got a little ahead of himself there.

Jackson rolls across the canvas and ends up scrambling to his feet, Max doing the same. As Adams reaches an upright base, Max corkscrews through the air, going for a kick that Jackson ducks. The boots miss their mark, Max sent crashing to the canvas and rolling across it to his feet.

He just reaches his feet when Adams steps in, takes him around the neck and flips back into the Spectacular Ending (C4). Craven crashes across the canvas with Adams ending up kneeling right beside him. He hooks both of Craven’s legs at this point, going for the three count and the victory.

NOOO!

Yet again the X-Class Champion shoots his houlder from the ring, kicking out mere moments before the three.

Comeau: Craven kicked out of the Spectacular Ending. Will he be able to do that at Paranoia VI though?

On the outside of the ring, Katelyn Buehler is stretching the rules to the point that their about to rip. She has reached under the ring and retrieved a steel chair, now laying in wait for her opponent. Jackson spots the steel in her hand and takes Craven by the hair, forcing him up to his feet.

He boots Craven to the ribs and whips him off across the ring. That’s when Max suddenly twists around and reverses the whip, instead sending Jackson into the cables. Buehler is none the wiser, standing up and swinging the chair at who she believes to be Craven, only for the steel to connect with Jackson’s back. Her eyes widen with shock as Adams roars in pain and stumbles forward into the waiting arms of Craven.

Thankfully Max distracted the ref just long enough to miss the chair shot, and for Adams to stagger forward into a North Eastern Driver. Adams is planted viciously across the back of his head to the canvas with Craven grabbing his legs and pulling back on them for the pin.

Buehler watches through stunned eyes as the official makes the count.

Comeau: I cannot believe this, somehow Craven has emerged victorious from this handicap match.

Moore: He must have conjured up the powers of the Black Scorpion. Funny, I didn’t know David Copperfield was not only a magician and a really heavy book, but a wrestler too.

The crowd is at it’s apex of emotion, basking in joy over Craven’s shocking victory. Instead of retaliating, Buehler just remains on the outside of the ring, forcing herself to look shocked. Once again a strange, perplexing little grin forms on her face, implying that the inadvertent chair shot was anything but accidental.

Mark: Craven victorious tonight thanks to an unintentional assist from Buehler, at least I think it was unintentional.

Moore: I don’t think at all, puts less stress on the brain.

Craven now stands up and is handed his X-Class Championship before making eyes with Buehler, who swears vengeance at Paranoia VI.

ROAD TRIP

The super excited face of Desolation comes into view, looking more gleeful than ever before. Tonight there is certainly nothing dark about his demeanor. Such an exuberant expression of joy is brought on by not only the Animaniacs plushie in his arms, but by the trip he’s taking.

Desolation: We gonna ride the carousel?

Uh-huh.

The source of the voice comes from behind his wheelchair. It emits from the figure pushing Desolation down the corridor.

Desolation: And the Viking ship?

Yep.

The mysterious driver of Desolation’s chair remains off camera, but agitation is clear in her voice.

Desolation: And the whiplash, and the log flume, and the…

Don’t worrryyyy.

Robin stoops forward over his shoulder, whispering sweetly into his ear.

Robin: You’ll be going for a ride tonight, oh yes, you will.

Desolation is more ecstatic than ever before, clapping like he were trying to catch a fly between his palms and smiling like he were trying to fit half a watermelon in his mouth. The unsettlingly friendly Robin smiles for a completely different reason though.

Mark: What, wh…why is Robin Brooks pushing Desolation towards the ring?

Susie: Maybe she’s running a festival as Desolation seems to think. He is the smartest man I know, so if he thinks there are going to be rides I believe him. I just hope she has a petting zoo too.

Comeau: I find myself a little concerned at this point, hopefully security will stop her before she reaches the ring.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Why children are terrified of clowns

POWER

“The Game” by Disturbed has the fans riled up into a frenzy. All inhibitions are cast aside, their words as vicious as a cobra’s bite but Brooks is immune to their toxin. She’s all smiles as she guides Desolation to the stage, the Dark Man playing with his Animaniacs doll with childlike enjoyment.

Mark: We commented on this right before the break, for some STRANGE reason, Robin Brooks has got hold of Desolation, and now she’s got him on the stage. Don’t do anything silly, Robin, think before you take this issue with Hellkat TOO far.

Moore: No rides, awwww. Can I at least take a spin in Desolation’s wheelchair?

Robin’s cynical smile matches her cynical words as the Submission Champion guides a microphone to her lips.

Robin Brooks: Last year, right around this time, I perched myself on a ladder at ringside and poked fun at Christian Savior. But then Savior crossed the fucking line.

A shocked Desolation covers his mouth, blushing over a “bad, no, no word” being used.

Robin: He grabbed the ladder and threatened to tilt it over, he THREATENED to end my career with one fatal action. He made me feel POWERLESS.

All these bad memories being conjured up causes Brooks to wince, taking a moment to gather herself.

Brooks: From that day forward I vowed NEVER to feel powerless again. I promised myself that I would be the one in a position of power, and I would take care of anyone who stood in the way of that goal.

Susie: What if I just sit and get in the way, will she still be pissed?

Mark: I imagine so.

The grin is gone and her eyes are fiery.

Robin: So far Hellkat has been the only one foolish enough to challenge my power. I had absolute influence over Steven, and she TOOK him away from me, laughing at my expense all the while. I worked hard to make the Alpha Generation the most POWERFUL stable in all the IWC, but she trivialized MY group, she thought it was beneath her. She acted as if she was too good to team up with a Queen.

She closes her eyes and aims her head towards the heavens, basking in her royal glow.

Brooks: Her actions TOOK the fear and power out of the Alpha Generation’s sails, her refusal to join us made us look WEAK, it made us into a laughing stock amongst the roster. And her affair with Steven, made me look like an idiot. She TOOK all the power and prestige I worked a career ascertaining and she ripped it from my clutches. Instead of the roster fearing my tyranny, they now make lewd, indecent jokes at MY expense. Just like with the Alpha Generation, she’s made me the butt of EVERYONE’S jokes. She TOOK all my power away and left me looking like a moron.

In frustration she kicks back her hair, making sure her pupils are narrowed sharply on the camera, hoping somehow Hellkat has the ability to see this.

Robin: But tonight I’m showing Hellkat who’s got the power. I’m showing her that I’m no joke, that I’m not weak, that she can’t toy with my career like she were playing with the legs of a ladder I sit on the top of. Its time to show everyone that I wield absolute POWER in this company, even over you, Hellkat, and your family.

The wheelchair is gently led to the edge of the stage, Desolation looking down into the same type of equipment Evans crashed into last week. Robin grips the handles of the wheelchair a little tighter, savoring this moment.

Brooks: Do you see, Hellkat, do you see how powerful I am? I hold sway over rather your retarded husband crashes through the tables, further debilitating him, or not. I hope your somewhere watching this, that my hired goon doesn’t have you too distracted with make believe stories of Tia and Naked Ned. I know my showing of power isn’t in vein, that you’ll eventually see what I can do.

She wedges her foot to the back of the wheelchair, seconds from kicking it over the edge. The crowd is screaming for her not to do it, pleading with the malicious Black Widow.

Mark: Don’t do this, don’t do it.

Susie: YEAH, get him out of that chair so I can play with it, he’s hoggin it.

Robin stares back towards the camera, her smile returning as she pushes the chair even closer to the edge.

Brooks: Do you realize now, Hellkat, do you realize that I’m NOT powerless, that I’m not to be played? Maybe you need a better example of my power.

She lunges forward as if about to push the wheelchair over the edge only to grab a handle and chuckle.

Robin: Oh how I’m loving this. How does it feel to have someone toy with your husband right behind your back?

The smiling Desolation has his head pulled back by his bangs, Robin gripping them tightly.

Brooks: How does it feel to have another woman hold power over the one you love?

She releases his bangs as Desolation’s head bobs, his smile ever widening.

Robin: Your husband’s fate is in MY hands, not yours. How does it feel, how does it FEEL? Well you’ll find out how you made ME feel, and how your husband is about to FEEL at Paranoia VI, when you’re at my mercy. Just like tonight, with your boy toy, I’ll have the power to decide rather you go on to fight another day, or simply perish.

Her grip weakens on the handle, almost causing the chair and Desolation to tip over.

Comeau: No, DON’T!

Once again she pulls back the chair, looking as serious as a bad case of herpes.

Brooks: When your lying on that canvas SCREAMING the words “I Quit,” BEGGING me to let go, it’ll be MY decision whether or not I break the hold, or break your body. I’ll take GREAT satisfaction in stringing you along and playing you like you did to me and my former fiancée. I’ll take particular amusement in watching you squirm like you watched me squirm, in making you suffer like you made me suffer. And by the end of the night you’ll be the one hearing the laughter of your peers as your carted out of the ring crying a broken, humiliated, POWERLESS WHORE!

Her whole body tenses, her head trembling as she takes a deep breathe to calm herself. Much to the relief of the crowd she pulls the wheelchair back to the center of the stage, turning it once again towards the ring. She backs away from the wheelchair continuing to unleash her venomous words.

Robin: I don’t have to remind everyone of my power tonight, Paranoia VI, Submission Title match, a crying Hell-Puss, and a victorious Black Widow will be the only reminder needed. I’ll leave that match no longer the punch line of everyone’s jokes, no longer the meek little girl people see me as, I’ll leave as champion, and I’ll leave with all the power.

Her music cuts in coinciding with a rousing wave of boos from the crowd. Their vile rhetoric does not affect her, Robin above their petty insults. Instead of standing and listening to their jeers she turns her back on the chanters and moves towards the curtains.

Comeau: Thank God, Robin is walking away before she did anything she regrets, but what emotional words spoken about the Submission Title match at Paranoia VI. What a bout that is going to….HEY!

Brooks darts back out, wedging her foot to the wheelchair and kicking it. The chair races down the ramp, Desolation laughing joyously all the way towards the ring. That’s until the wheels get caught on the outside mats and he goes crashing head first into the mats. The crowd watches on in utter dismay, their terrified screams reverberating from the walls.

Mark: DAMMIT! What the hell!?!

Moore: That looked like fun.

Desolation lays strewn across the mats, aching from head to toe from the hard impact with the thin mats. Although the fans moan over his condition, many of them have started in with vicious verbal attacks on Robin. She remains on the stage to enjoy the sight of her repulsive display, and to symbolically raise the Submission Championship from her shoulder into the air.

Comeau: I don’t know what Robin hoped to accomplish by what she’s done, but this is, it’s just wrong on so many levels.

Moore: Quick, race me to the top of the ramp, I just realized our chairs are on wheels.

EMTs have gathered around a motionless Desolation, checking on his condition while Robin continues to hold the Submission Title aloft.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Proof all Spacemen like to roll

NATHAN CREED VS. JOHNNY KINGDOM
STEEL CAGE MATCH

The show returns live with the cage once again lowered into position.

Comeau: The cage in place, waiting for the participants to enter. I really got to question the logic of Nathan Creed and Johnny Kingdom entering the cage tonight on the eve of Steel Cage Elimination at Paranoia VI.

Moore: I don’t like to ask questions, because then I have to pretend to understand the answers.

WAKE UP

To a deafening roar Johnny Kingdom emerges to the stage. There he remains for only a moment, soaking it all in before heading towards the cage. He is unconcerned by the menacing steel structure erected before him, even taking a moment to grab the mesh and shake it. A crude grin forms on his face as he assures himself that the cage is sturdy, able to withstand someone’s body connecting with it time and time again. He now moves up the steps and through the cage door before scaling the turnbuckle to the very top rope. He holds onto the mesh at both his sides and once again shakes it, eliciting a louder reaction from the sold out crowd.

Mark: The Team Leader not only ready for this cage bout but anxious to get it underway. He’s been waiting weeks to face off with Creed one on one after that backstage attack with the steel pipe, and after Nathan accidentally cost him the World Championship. There is plenty of bad blood in this one that has been building for months, ever since Extinction in fact.

Moore: Bad blood, huh? Sounds like it needs a time out.

Kingdom stares through the steel to the entry way anxiously awaiting the arrival of Nathan Creed.

Tension fills the air in anticipation of the next superstar to enter the ring when the lights dim down. Adam Gontier's soothing voice cuts the tension swiftly

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

The drum beat kicks in for Three Days Grace's song 'Pain' and the lights flash synchronized to the beat. Nathan Creed walks from behind the curtain, his expression stoic as he stares down at the ring. He snaps his neck from side to side whilst ringing his wrists. The song takes a change in mood and softens as Creed starts a slow walk towards the ring accompanied by a low blue light that replaces the strobes.

"You're sick of feeling numb,
You're not the only one,
I'll take you by the hand,
And I'll show you a world that you can understand,
This life is filled with hurt,
When happiness doesn't work,
Trust me and take my hand,
When the lights go out you will understand"

As the verse nears its end Creed reaches the cage, staring up at Kingdom. Johnny has dropped from the turnbuckle, urging Creed to enter, desperate to wage war. Nathan doesn’t hesitate to move up the steps and enter through the cage door. The moment he enters the cage he reaches back, grabs the door and slams it shut behind him. The referee keeps Kingdom at bay, waiting for the bell to ring before the chaos can consume the cage.

Comeau: Nathan Creed’s actions as of the past few weeks have been questionable at best, including spitting in Kingdom’s face earlier tonight.

Susie: I thought he was trying to give Johnny a bathe like a momma cat.

Mark: Regardless of Creed’s intentions, he crossed a line tonight. I just hope after this cage match is all said and done that this rivalry will be over and these two can coexist at Paranoia VI.

Creed and Kingdom continue to eye one another, tentative of what the other is about to unleash before their attention shifts to the entry way. “You Know My Name” ushers forth the Icon himself, Orlando Cruze stepping to the stage without his usual panache. Although he wishes his FINAL entrance on Riot! were on better terms, there’s nothing he can do. He makes lemons out of lemonade, dishing out high fives to a few fortunate front row fans and listening to their tender words.

He now goes as far as to request a steel chair from one of them, a kindly fan graciously handing his over. As he promised earlier in the night, Cruze sets up the chair at the bottom of the ramp and plants his seat upon it, trying to get as comfortable as possible. Neither Nathan nor Kingdom know what to think of his presence, exchanging some awkward glances between each other.

Mark: Well Orlando IS a man of his word, always has been, but will he continue to be at Paranoia VI? He said he’ll end the Conspiracy inside of Steel Cage Elimination, but how is he going to do that if his partner’s beat the holy hell out of one another?

Moore: Black magic? Sorcery? If all else fails he can just put Exlax in the Conspiracy’s food, it might not help him win but it’ll be totally hilarious.

Comeau: Thanks for your totally unconstructive banter, Susie.

Susie: That’s what I’m here for.

The steel cage is lowered, two figures trapped inside, over a thousand fans watching from outside. Well, a thousand and one, counting Orlando Cruze, his posterior planted in a chair at the end of the ramp. He looks emotional about this whole sordid situation, watching Creed and Kingdom circling one another.

They briefly pause to examine the cage, realizing that all the attacks and beat downs over the past few weeks have brought them here, to this moment, bound within the confines of the steel.

Comeau: For months these two have been at one another’s throats, even though they want the SAME thing.

Moore: Hair implants?

Mark: Erm, no, the annihilation of the Conspiracy. But I don’t see how they’ll accomplish that if they’re tearing each other apart on a weekly basis.

The bell chimes in the background, officially getting this one on one contest underway. Their twiddling fingers raise into the air, moving in one another’s directions for a Greco Roman knuckle lock. Orlando perks up a bit, satisfied that they’re about to wrestle a straight up match instead of a bloodbath.

Their hands interlock, palms clasping before they immediately begin to struggle for dominance. Neither man is able to gain much of an advantage, finally prompting them to break away from one another. The rivals step back and examine one another, planning out their next strategy, how they’ll get the best of the other.

They now lunge forward aggressively into a collar elbow lock, once again trying to overpower the other. They end up twisting in repeated circles, applying as much pressure on one another’s shoulders as possible. Kingdom ends up pressed back first against the ropes, before he switches positions with Nathan.

Creed is only held against the cables for a few moments before Kingdom breaks the collar elbow and instead opts to launch a knife edge chop right at his chest.

Nathan side steps the inbound hand of his opponent, ending up behind Kingdom only briefly.

A rather stunned Team Leader turns towards the Future who goes for his own chop. Johnny ducks the hand though, catches him around the wrist and swings around under his arm. He ends up placing Creed in an arm lock but then pulls him forward and grabs the back of his head, charging him at the cage wall.

Comeau: Creed about to taste some steel.

Susie: It’s awfully sweet, and it’s terribly fattening.

Just before Creed’s skull bashes against the cage wall, he reaches out and wraps his fingers around the mesh. He prevents colliding with the steel despite Kingdom’s best efforts to bludgeon him with the cage.

Orlando watches tensely as Nathan now delivers a back elbow right to Kingdom’s skull, causing him to stagger backwards. That’s when Creed moves in and nails a chop across his sternum, followed by a second one, and a third one. Johnny continues to stagger backwards as the Future now goes wild with chops, blistering his rival’s sternum.

Mark: Nathan unloading with the chops, he’s ripping Kingdom’s chest to pieces.

Johnny is in an absolute stupor thanks to these lethal barrage of chops that Creed keeps firing off without delay. Finally Kingdom ducks one of the inbound chops, and steps around behind his unsuspecting opponent. He grabs him by the shoulder and spins him around only to be chopped across his sternum, then chopped again, and again.

Johnny is once again stumbled by the blows before he’s grabbed by the back of the head and charged at the cage wall. Kingdom pushes his adversary off though, sending him charging forward into the cage.

However, Creed turns and hits the ropes back first instead, launching him forward right into his rival, delivering a running knife edge chop. The strike connects with enough force to take Kingdom down, his chest blistered by the blow.

Comeau: So far both men doing a good job of avoiding that cage, but Kingdom cannot escape those chops.

Moore: Maybe they’re heat seeking chops, because you know, Johnny’s bald head is so HAWT!

Mark: As if my stomach couldn’t be anymore unsettled.

A startled Team Leader rolls across the canvas, scrambling towards his feet when Nathan boots him to the ribs, slaps on a front chancery and delivers a snap suplex. Kingdom is driven with great velocity back first into the ring, causing him to sit up and bite his lower lip from the anguish.

Creed scrambles to his feet, charges into the ropes and bounces off into a running boot that lands directly against Kingdom’s face.

A frazzled Team Leader falls to his back, palms engulfing his forehead. In the time it takes Louie Anderson to scarf down three hotdogs, Creed is already moving towards a corner and ascending a turnbuckle. He’s almost reached the top rope, looking to hit the Tribute, only to spot Kingdom standing from the corner of his eye.

This prompts him instead to launch himself out of the corner, twisting around into a crossbody only to have Kingdom drop into a baseball slide under his airborne opposition. Nathan splats across the canvas, his chest and stomach landing hard against the ring.

Instinctively he ascends back to his feet only to be grabbed by the back of the head and charged at the cage. This time there’s no putting the breaks on it, Creed is thrown over the ropes shoulder first into the mesh wiring. His body ricochets from the steel right back into the waiting arms of his opponent.

Mark: Nathan’s shoulder colliding with the cage, and the steel barely budged an inch.

Moore: How stubborn.

Creed staggers right into a boot to the ribs before being placed in a front chancery, Kingdom perhaps setting up for the Exodus Finale. It’s obvious that Creed wants to debilitate the Future early so that he can easily decimate whatever is left of him as the match draws on.

His plans are ruined though, once Creed wedges his hands to his stomach and shoves the Team Leader backwards. Kingdom flails his arms to remain upright, Nathan closing in on his shaken opponent only to be caught into a tilt a whirl.

He ends up on top of Kingdom’s shoulder, Johnny now charging him at the cage wall like he were a javelin.

Just before Nathan can be thrown face first into the steel, he slides off of Kingdom’s shoulder, lands on his feet behind the Team Leader then snaps over backwards into the German suplex.

Comeau: Here come the Germans.

Moore: And I didn’t even wear my lederhosen.

Kingdom is as shocked as Stephen Rae at the end of the Crying Game as he’s dragged back to his feet and hoisted into another German. This time though, Kingdom reaches back with his legs, wrapping them around Creed’s waist then allows his upper half to fall forward.

He hangs upside down from Nathan’s waist just long enough to wrap his arms around his opponent’s ankle, tripping him forward. Creed tumbles to his chest with Kingdom standing up behind him, lifting the leg into the air in an ankle lock. The submission is only maintained for as long as it takes Paris Hilton to bribe her way out of imprisonment, Kingdom releasing the ankle then jumping forward and taking Creed’s arm.

The Manhattan Center explodes as Kingdom tries to establish a crossface, the Lesson in Leadership moments from being synched in.

Mark: A HUGE counter out of the German suplex into the Lesson in Leadership. Kingdom could earn a quick tap out victory.

The hold is seconds from being properly applied before Creed rolls to his side, escaping the submission. Kingdom rushes to his feet, only pausing momentarily to reach for his ailing back. He charges at Creed only to be caught by the back of the knees and to have his legs ripped out from under him.

The former World Champion collapses to his back as Creed places the legs under his armpits and now tries to apply his trademark liontamer variation. Kingdom is fighting valiantly to avoid the hold, flailing his arms as he twists from side to side.

Cruze inches forward in his chair, a brief glimmer of hope inhabiting his eyes, hoping Creed gets the submission locked in and forces Kingdom to tap out quickly. Unfortunately Johnny is putting a kibosh on these hopes, continuing to struggle against the submission.

Finally Nathan has had all he’s about to take, dropping back and catapulting Kingdom over the ropes face first into the steel cage.

Orlando sighs upon seeing Johnny’s head collide so violently against the steel, inflicting a great deal of damage. A disorientated Kingdom stumbles backwards into Nathan’s arms before being snapped over backwards into a German suplex.

The back of Johnny’s head collides with the ring, almost breaking his neck in the process. Creed bridges over backwards going for the pin.

Kingdom launches his shoulder from the ring, avoiding the humiliation of defeat. Creed twists around exhaling in anger as he takes Johnny around the neck and the pants, charging him towards the ropes and throwing him through head first into the cage wall.

The top of Johnny’s head cracks off of the mesh, his body sent rolling across the canvas as a result. He grabs at his noggin, trying feebly to reach his feet when Nathan takes him by the back of the pants and the head, charging him at the opposite side of the ring.

Kingdom is thrown through the ropes, his face engulfed by the mesh. The force of the impact snaps Kingdom’s head back, sending him stumbling towards the center of the ring. Creed now grabs his shoulder, bending his body over backwards and placing him in a dragon sleeper position.

He grabs Kingdom’s pants and hoists him up into the air before falling back into a reverse suplex. Johnny is slammed violently across his stomach and chest, sending him rolling to his back in perfect pinning predicament. Creed quickly crawls into the lateral press, wedging his forearm against the Team Leader’s face.

Mark: After being driven into that cage so many times this might just be Creed’s opportunity to get the win.

Susie: If I were in this match I’d be the favorite, it’s one of the fringe benefits of having a steel plate in my head.

The crowd watches anxiously as the three count progresses.

Kingdom kicks out, getting his shoulder free from the canvas with just moments to spare. A flabbergasted Creed sits up on the canvas and swipes his arms through the air. He promptly ascends to his feet and approaches a corner, beginning to scale it.

He now reaches out and grabs the mesh wiring, beginning to scale his way up the wall towards the top. Orlando watches with great interest, his knuckle being chewed between his teeth.

Comeau: The pinfall didn’t work so Creed is going to escape the cage by climbing out.

Moore: I would take a pear of wire cutters with me. Why nobody has done that is beyond me.

Creed is getting closer and closer to the top of the cage, now within just a few inches. Before he can go over, Kingdom stumbles in and lunges into the air, catching Creed by his ankle, preventing the escape.

Nathan’s grip on the cage wall tightens, refusing to be pulled down. Unfortunately there’s nothing he can do about it, especially as Kingdom wraps both hands around his ankles and tugs on them with all his body weight. The pressure is too much, causing Nathan to release the cage and tumble all the way down crotch first right onto the top rope.

Moore: HOOCHY MAMA!

Mark: Creed CROTCHING the top rope. That may have ripped something.

Nathan continues to straddle the top rope, his mouth agape unable to produce cries to match his anguish. All the while Kingdom is scaling the ropes running perpendicular to the ones Nathan is mounted upon. He reaches the top cable and then springs off, twisting in mid-air to connect with a dropkick to Creed’s shoulder.

The impact sends Nathan’s body slamming against the cage wall and causes him to drop down between the ropes and the steel. It’s on the apron where he tries valiantly to reach his feet, despite the excruciating pain emanating from his genitals.

Unfortunately the moment he reaches his feet, Kingdom springs off the middle cable of the perpendicular ropes, twists and dropkicks him to the chest. Nathan’s back is driven into the mesh, causing him to cringe from the blinding pain.

Comeau: Kingdom with some athletic dropkicks knocking Creed against the steel repeatedly.

Moore: Hmmm, how can Johnny be so BIG, yet so acrobatic? Is he secretly a video game character?

Mark: Uhhh, I don’t think so.

Susie: Oh, then I have no interest in him.

The increasingly concerned Orlando is now standing instead of seated, obviously not liking how brutal this cage match is becoming. Kingdom keeps the brutality flowing, as he rushes across the ring, bounces off the far ropes and comes charging back in with a heat seeking dropkick.

He lunges into the air at great speed and dropkicks Creed right under the head, snapping his skull backwards into the cage wall. Creed’s cranium bounces violently from the steel and his body tumbles forward onto the top rope, leaning against it for support.

Mark: Another dropkick from Kingdom, this one ramming Creed’s skull into the mesh.

Moore: Maybe he’s practicing to be a cheerleader. Which is why it’s good that I always bring an extra set of pompoms with me. I didn’t get to be a cheerleader myself, I kept forgetting how to spell the name of our team.

Comeau: Happens to the best of us.

Creed continues to lean over the top rope, his eyes glossed over as Kingdom steps in and takes him around the neck. He drops with almost a stunner that chokes Nathan against the top rope and once again sends him flying back first into the cage wall. He bounces off the steel and then falls to his posterior.

Now the Future looks all the more disorientated as he sits with his back placed to the wall and his legs stuck under the bottom rope. It’s at this point that Kingdom comes barreling across the ring and diving through the ropes with a basement dropkick at his point, both boots nailing Nathan to his forehead.

Creed’s skull is sandwiched between the feet and the mesh, leaving him to convulse on the apron. All the while Kingdom rolls backwards to the center of the ring where he throws a mocking fist into the air. Orlando takes non too kindly to his taunt being used to taunt him. Johnny peaks over his shoulder at Cruze and smiles slightly before making his way towards the ropes.

With promptness he moves up the ropes, grabs the cage wall and begins to climb towards the top.

Mark: Johnny going to escape the cage and win this match. He won’t be able to do this at Paranoia though, because escaping the cage will be irrelevant, the only way to eliminate opponents will be by pinfall or submission.

Moore: Awww, but it looks a lot more fun to climb the cage, it reminds me of the monkey bars on the playground I was never allowed to play on.

Johnny may be in a lot of pain but he isn’t letting it slow him down as he gets closer and closer to the top. Unfortunately for him, he’s given Creed entirely too little credit, because Nathan is back up and he’s staggering into the ropes behind him.

Before Kingdom even realizes it he’s being grabbed by the ankle and blasted to the back of the thighs with clubbing blows. Creed now grabs the cage wall and steps up the ropes, moving to his rival’s side.

Comeau: Creed has caught Johnny.

Susie: If he tagged him shouldn’t Johnny freeze now?

Johnny opts not to throw fisticuffs with Creed, deeming it more important to escape the cage. He pulls himself up closer to the top only for Nathan to chop him right between the kidneys. Kingdom falls feet first to the top rope, standing right beside Nathan who now steps behind him, interlocks his arms around Johnny’s waist and tries to German suplex him.

Mark: Oh no, this would be career ending!

Creed once again tries to deliver the German while Johnny clings to the cage wall for dear life. Orlando is shouting through the mesh in anger.

Orlando: God dammit Nathan, don’t do it, don’t DO IT!

Obviously he doesn’t want to see one of his teammates debilitated, or for Kingdom to have any excuses when it comes down between the two of them at Paranoia VI. His pleas fall on deaf ears, forcing Kingdom to fight his own battle.

He throws an elbow into Creed’s eye socket, causing Nathan to break up the attempt at the German and to step to his rival’s side across the top rope. Kingdom now turns towards his opponent and pulls his fist back for a punch only to receive a kick to the gut that doubles him over.

Nathan quickly takes Johnny around the neck and without any delay delivers a swinging neckbreaker off of the top rope. Both men crash into the canvas amongst a rousing reaction from the crowd.

Comeau: AHH, swinging neckbreaker off the top rope!

The fans are on their feet, chiming in with a loud reaction to that last move. Neither Creed nor Kingdom are standing though, both men catching their breath as they lay in a heap on the canvas. Orlando is shaking the cage, calling for them both to just stay down. The official steps in, checking on both men’s conditions, but is unable to start a ten count as there must be a winner in the cage.

Kingdom begins to stew at this point, gripping at his battered neck while Nathan is doing the same. Both men near their feet before Nathan starts in with the right hands. Several shots connect to Kingdom’s jaw before he’s taken by the back of the skull and headbunted violently. The strike sends him right back down to the canvas, Creed stepping over him and dropping an elbow directly to his sternum.

Creed rolls quickly to his feet and catches tremendous height as he comes down into ANOTHER elbow drop to the chest. He finally gets up and grabs Kingdom around the back of the neck, forcing him up to his feet before wedging his shoulder to his opponent’s spine.

Johnny is hoisted up into a back drop suplex position but then charged across the ring and throw over the top rope. Kingdom’s body goes vertical, his face and chest slamming forcefully against the cage wall before he comes down posterior first against the top rope.

He bounces off of the top cable and flips over backwards, incredibly landing right on his feet before turning into one of the most devastating running big boots in the industry.

The sound of Nathan’s soul striking Kingdom in the jaw echoes throughout the arena, taking both men off of their feet and down to the canvas. Creed quickly dives forward into the cover, hooking the leg.

Mark: What a violent, vicious combination from Creed, but will it be enough to best the former World Champion?

Susie: Aww, now Kingdom’s face is going to look like a boot imprint. Who will I have to fantasize about now, not that I don’t find shoes sexy, but you know.

Comeau: Actually I don’t, and I don’t even want to try and understand.

Many of the fans are standing, wondering if Creed has done enough to put down Kingdom for the three.

In an improbable feat, Kingdom kicks out, leaving Nathan in an awkward state. He sits up on the canvas, grinding his teeth and devising his next course of action. Finally he makes up his mind and begins to crawl in the direction of the cage door, which is promptly opened by referee Fitzpatrick.

Mark: Once again Creed is trying to escape the cage and be declared victorious.

Moore: I hope he gets one of those big things of roses on his back if he wins, just like Mine That Bird.

Nathan scoots across his sternum, inching closer and closer to the door. Orlando urges him on, wanting to see this end and end NOW. A dazed Nathan finds himself mere inches from victory, his arm dangling over the apron and out of the cage. He grabs the steps, pulling his upper half on top of them. Just as a win is all but assured, his legs are grabbed by Kingdom.

The fans are screaming as Nathan looks over his shoulder and realizes he’s now in the clutches of his adversary. This prompts him to roll to his back, wedge his feet to Johnny’s sternum and kick him off. Kingdom staggers backwards, swinging his arms to remain upright.

Creed turns back around and begins to climb out of the cage yet again, now his upper body is hung upside down over the outside mats. His lower body is not permitted to escape the cage though, Kingdom grabbing his ankles and desperately trying to drag his entire frame back into the ring.

Comeau: Creed has almost got it, he’s ALMOST victorious.

Moore: He better stop hanging upside down, unless he’s a vampire, then it’s okay.

Nathan clings to the tarp hanging from the apron now, refusing to be pulled back into the ring. One of his palms actually touches the outside mats, his face mere inches removed from it but all that counts for nothing. It’s his feet that have to touch the mats in order for him to be victorious, but Kingdom has a firm grasp on his ankles.

Johnny tugs with all his strength to begin dragging Nathan back into the ring. Creed is unable to stop himself from being pulled into the squared circle, but what he does do, is reach under the tarp and grab a weapon from beneath the ring.

Kingdom has no idea that Nathan has a steel chair in his hands as he slid back under the ropes into the cage. He doesn’t learn of this until he bends down to grab Nathan and gets a chair swung straight into the top of his skull. A scream emits from the crowd over the deadly impact of steel to cranium, leaving Kingdom incapacitated.

Mark: Somehow Nathan grabbed that chair when he was being slid back into the ring and he’s immediately made use of it.

Susie: Why doesn’t anyone use a chair to sit nowadays? I guess it’s the uncool thing to do.

An indentation of Kingdom’s skull is left in the chair, the very object that Creed uses as a crutch to get back to his feet. Upon standing Nathan looks at the opened doorway, realizing he can escape, but apparently that isn’t good enough for him.

Instead he turns his sights towards the barely conscious Kingdom and lifts the chair high above his head. He takes sick satisfaction in what he’s about to do before the chair is grabbed from behind and kept from being employed to end the Team Leader’s career.

A stunned Nathan turns around, finding himself in a tug of war with Orlando over the chair.

Comeau: Hey, Cruze is preventing Creed from using that chair again.

Moore: Maybe his ass is so big he needs two of them to sit in.

Nathan looks betrayed as he tries to free the chair from his partner’s clutches, but Orlando, standing resolute on the apron, refuses to give it back.

Orlando: Look what your doing Creed, Kingdom isn’t the enemy, the Conspiracy is.

With one final tug Nathan pulls the chair out of Orlando’s clutches and steps back, mouthing some vile rhetoric towards his long time friend. The outside official pulls Cruze down off of the apron and slams the cage door shut to keep him out.

Inside of the ring Creed is turning towards Kingdom and approaching him with the chair only to be surprisingly caught in a small package. The fans are out of their seats, wondering if Kingdom has done it.

Creed kicks out to a loud mixed reception from the crowd, the Future preventing defeat.

Mark: Kingdom almost had him with that sneaky small package.

Moore: Yes, let’s face it, most things that are small are sneaky. Haven’t you ever seen The Leprechaun?

A shocked Nathan rolls to his knees, quickly trying to lift the chair from the canvas. Unfortunately he doesn’t move quick enough because a recovered Kingdom steps in, takes him around the neck and DDTs him right into he chair.

Creed’s skull bounces thunderously off of the steel, his body rolling to his back in an unconscious heap. Kingdom scoots into the cover, hooking his leg for the pinfall. Some fans count along, others having no idea who they should be supporting.

NO! Yet again Creed shows his resilience by kicking out right before the three count could be made. Kingdom rolls across the canvas to his back, looking stunned and exasperated.

Mark: Creed kicked out again, this time even after being DDTed onto the chair. He really, REALLY wants to defeat Kingdom here tonight.

Susie: Why wouldn’t he? It looks like a lot of fun. Instead of piñatas they should just use Kingdom.

Kingdom slides his hands down his face wondering what it will take to finally put Creed away. He now decides its prudent to break out the big guns, driving him to rise to his feet and sink his fingers into Nathan’s hair. With every last ounce of strength left in his body, Johnny pulls Creed to an upright base and places him in a front chancery.

The crowd reacts with a loud pop as he sets up for the Exodus Finale, the brainbuster DDT surely being enough to finally defeat Creed. He lifts Nathan up only for his legs to be pulled out from under him. He collapses to his back as Nathan steps through the legs and rolls Johnny to his stomach, applying the Against the Odds.

Comeau: Another big counter from Creed, transitioning out of the Exodus Finale into the Against All Odds. Could this be enough to force Johnny to tap?

Moore: I hope not, Kingdom doesn’t look like he has the ankles to dance.

Roars of pain emit from Kingdom, who digs his claws into the canvas, looking to make his way across the ring and reach the far ropes. Although very disorientated, Creed tries to hold onto the submission, attempting to force the tap out. Cruze shouts from the outside of the cage for Kingdom to just submit, to live to fight another day, but the Team Leader isn’t listening.

He tries to counter now, taking advantage of Creed’s disorientated state. Somehow he gets a leg free and turns onto his back, wedging his foot to Nathan’s bum and kicking him off the submission. Nathan is launched forward, his head going through the ropes and cracking against the mesh yet again.

He bounces off with eyes completely glazed over, staggering backwards into a school boy by Kingdom. The fans are once again screaming their heads off as the official makes the count.

Yet again Nathan kicks out just before the third slap of the canvas, launching his shoulders from the squared circle.

Mark: I thought Kingdom had the victory all but secured with that roll up! What a match we’re witnessing between these two hall of fame talents.

Moore: You think I’ll be in the hall of fame some year?

Comeau: Sure, just replace the “f” at the beginning of fame with a “sh.”

Susie: The Hall of Sham? I knew there was a reason I bought all those products from that terrifying Sham Wow guy.

Despite exhaustion and untold amounts of anguish, Kingdom and Creed rise to their feet. Nathan throws a right hand only to have it blocked by Johnny, who responds with a shot of his own, the fist connecting right across Creed’s jaw. Nathan is staggered as Johnny moves in for the killing blow, twisting around into a roaring elbow.

The forearm just misses it’s mark, Creed ducking out of the way and charging into the cables behind his opponent. He bounces off and comes charging back at Kingdom going for that devastating running boot once more.

Kingdom drops down into a baseball slide, avoiding the kick then lunges back to his feet anticipating his opponent’s rotation. Creed spins around and walks right into a boot to the ribs, Kingdom placing him in a front chancery as he sets up for the Exodus Finale.

Once again Creed counters, this time standing up straight and trying to back drop Kingdom. However, Johnny slips down Creed’s back and catches him around the waist, pulling him down into a sunset flip pinning predicament. The fans are on their feet, watching anxiously, just like Orlando, as the count is made.

Nathan kicks out by rolling backwards to his feet and grabbing Johnny’s legs. He tucks them under his armpits then falls in reverse, catapulting the Team Leader at the cage wall.

Mark: Johnny about to taste steel again.

Susie: What a fat ass.

Instead of hitting the cage, Kingdom catches hold of it, grasping the steel with his palms and planting his feet on the middle rope. He now begins to scramble towards the top of the cage, Creed completely unaware of what’s going on.

Moore: Look, Johnny IS Spiderman, but where’s Macho Man when you need him?

Mark: Probably still kicking himself over that horrible rap CD. Unbelievably Johnny caught the cage and now he’s climbing to the top!

The crowd is at a fevered pitch as Johnny throws his arm over the top of the cage and does the same with his leg. A shocked Creed realizes the error of his ways, darting up the ropes and catching Kingdom by the ankle, trying desperately to pull him down.

With all his mite, Johnny kicks Creed’s hands away and throws his lower body over the top of the cage. His legs dangle high above the outside mats, his upper half still inside of the cage. Creed quickly grabs the back of Kingdom’s head, preventing him from getting his entire body on the opposite side of the wall.

He now delivers several jabs to Johnny’s face, hitting punch after punch and then even following it up with a European Uppercut. The blow actually knocks Kingdom over the cage top, his hands grabbing hold of the wall, his entire body now looming over the outside mats.

Comeau: Kingdom about to escape, all he has to do is let go!

Moore: I sure hope he’s mastered his flying abilities then.

Johnny precariously tries to climb down the wall now only for Nathan to reach over the top and grab him by the ear. Painful cries emanate from Kingdom as his ear is twisted by Creed, almost being ripped off in fact. Johnny has no choice but to climb back up the cage, finding himself face to face with the Future.

Nathan now blasts him across the face with right hands and takes him around the neck, placing him in a front chancery. Orlando is actually standing under Kingdom, waiting to catch him should he fall from the top of the cage, as if it would help cushion the blow whatsoever.

Instead of falling to the outside, Kingdom is pulled back in, Nathan dragging his upper body over the top of the cage wall. He is still holding him in a front chancery and is now actually trying to suplex him back into the ring. Kingdom holds onto the mesh though, refusing to have his career ended by the Future.

Comeau: This is very dangerous, Nathan looking to superplex Kingdom off the top of the cage. This would be downright career shortening, if not ending.

Susie: Good, the shorter the better, I have a very limited attention span.

Creed roars as he tries to hit the suplex, but Kingdom will not release the top of the cage, his body still arched over it. He now begins to grab the mesh wiring on the inside of the cage and twists his body to start climbing down towards Nathan. Creed drops to his feet on the top rope and maintains the front chancery, twisting at Kingdom’s neck viciously as he tries to climb down the interior of the cage wall.

Finally Kingdom finds himself landing feet first on the top rope as well, right beside Nathan. He’s still trapped in the front chancery, Creed turning towards the center of the ring in anticipation of hitting yet another super swinging neckbreaker.

Kingdom throws several right hands into Nathan’s ribs, forcing him to break the headlock and double over. A freed Kingdom holds onto the mesh to maintain his balance and walks like he were on a tight rope towards Creed, looking to get on the advantage.

The moment he moves in though he receives a thunderous chop across the sternum for his troubles. The strike further blisters Kingdom’s chest and knocks him backwards, causing him to fall into the corner of the cage, standing on top of a turnbuckle.

Now it’s Nathan who descends upon his opponent, moving across the top rope and chopping Johnny right across his chest. Kingdom has trouble breathing, his sternum perhaps collapsed thanks to all these brutal chops he’s taken. He doesn’t need to exert the energy to breathe for long though, because Creed is looking for the kill move.

The Future looks to make Kingdom a figment of the past as he hooks both of his arms, perhaps looking for a double underhook suplex, or double arm DDT from the top rope. Either maneuver would certainly finish the match.

Mark: Creed looking to finally put Kingdom away.

Susie: I hate when I have to put my toys away too, oh how I miss you Mr. Potato Head.

With a guttural grunt Creed tries to hoist Kingdom into the air only for the Team Leader to shift his body weight, coming back down feet first to the top rope. Again Nathan tries to hoist him into he air only for Johnny to transition his body weight a second time.

Orlando is again begging Creed not to do it as he lifts for a third time. It’s on this occasion that Johnny knees Creed to his ribs, knocking the air out of his lungs. A shocked Creed doubles over, reaching for his mid-section and putting him in perfect position for the Team Leader.

Johnny delivers a straight knee lift directly to Creed’s forehead, the blow rendering him almost unconscious upon delivery. Kingdom then places him in a front chancery and grabs the back of his tights, the crowd exploding as both men jump off the top rope and Johnny pulls Nathan down into a super Exodus Finale.

Susie: OPTIMUS PRIME!!

Mark: Super Exodus Finale….Super Exodus Finale! My God it’s got to be over!!

Nathan’s skull is perhaps cracked by the impact with the canvas, his body seated on the ring with his eyes rolling to he back of his head. He finally lands on his back with an exhausted, aching Kingdom rolling into the lateral press. The crowd is screaming as the count is made and Orlando watches through somewhat saddened eyes.

It’s finally over, the brutal cage match has concluded with a stunning Johnny Kingdom victory after a vicious Exodus Finale from the top rope. Creed writhes on the canvas as a result of the fall, his eyes fluttering as he tries desperately to regain his consciousness.

Mark: I don’t know how he had the strength or energy to pull it off, but Kingdom has just defeated Creed in one hell of a main event.

Susie: It was so good I can guarantee it’s loaded with sugar. Ahhhh sugar, one day I’ll eat you.

The fans are on their feet, collectively showering both the victor and Creed with cheers, having deeply enjoyed this barbaric display. Kingdom rolls across the canvas gripping at his bright red chest and finding himself kneeling over the steel chair.

Suddenly his eyes light up, glee inhabiting his features as he grabs the chair and approaches the still unconscious Creed. As Orlando has his back turned towards the cage, dejected over the brutality his partners just unleashed on one another, Kingdom wraps the chair around Nathan’s neck.

Mark: Wait Johnny, think before you do something you’ll regret.

Susie: Then he can just see a psychiatrist and fix everything. That’s what I do when I’m feeling blue. Although I’m not sure if turning on Mr. Rogers counts as seeing a psychiatrist.

The mood in the arena has changed as Kingdom climbs the turnbuckle to the top rope, turning slowly to face his wounded prey. Creed is still fighting to regain his faculties as he lies perfectly prone across the canvas, his neck moments from being broken. Kingdom towers over him relishing in this moment, preparing to bust out the 450 splash onto the chair.

Orlando notices the fear in the faces of his fans, prompting him to turn around and spot what’s happened in the cage.

Orlando: What the….no Johnny, don’t, DON’T!

He rushes towards the cage door, desperately trying to get it open so he can enter and save Creed. He stops when he spots Kingdom’s finger pointed in his direction.

Kingdom: You get in this cage and I’ll end his fucking career.

At this point Orlando stops fidgeting with the door handle, stepping back with his palms raised in the air. He shakes his increasingly red head back and forth, the hue of his skin showing how angry he is. Somehow he turns his rage into insightful rhetoric.

Cruze: Just stop and think, Kingdom. Just think about what you’re doing. This is what they want man. You take out Creed, and you pretty much take out any possibility of ever being World Champion again.

Johnny is now angered, realizing that Orlando is in fact being logical. He stews with emotion and thought, weighing his options carefully. The thought of 450 splashing the chair and putting Creed out of action permanently is mighty tempting for Kingdom, but the ideal of once again being World Champion is almost too hard to pass up.

His head cocks back, looking at the rafters as he takes a long, deep, cleaning breathe. The crowd watches as if they were standing on heroine needles. Everyone in the building anticipates Kingdom’s decision, wondering if he’ll snap and take out his partner, or come to his senses. Finally, with a long sigh, Johnny jumps from the top rope, but instead of breaking Creed’s neck, he lands on his feet mere inches away from the Future.

Now it’s Orlando’s turn to take a sigh of relief, watching as the chair is removed from Creed’s neck and thrown into the cage wall. Johnny steps past the recovering Creed only to be pause and glare at Orlando for several awkward moments.

Kingdom: You owe me.

The cage begins to rise into the air, traveling back towards the rafters where it was supposed to stay all night long. Kingdom rolls under the ropes to the outside, leaving Creed, the cage, and Cruze all behind. Orlando quickly slides in and approaches Nathan, dropping down to his knees and trying to snap his partner out of his near comatose state.

Mark: Kingdom doing the right thing.

Susie: Destroying an Italian pizzeria in the midst of a heat wave?

Comeau: I hope you choke on something.

Moore: I’d have to eat in order to choke.

Mark: Not if you’re known for putting other things in your mouth. Kingdom showing that the title means more to him than ending Creed’s career, and he’s come to the realization that he’s going to need Nathan at Paranoia VI to get BACK the championship.

Inside of the ring Orlando is trying to assist Nathan to his feet only to be pushed away. Cruze steps back, glaring at his long time friend and partner, Creed’s eyes burning a hole through the Icon. Although his speech is somewhat slurred, the core message is still understandable.

Creed: I had him, Cruze, I HAD HIM, and YOU fucked it all up.

Obviously he’s referencing the tug of war over the chair. Although Cruze wants to explain his motives he remains silent, having his fill of this entire situation, through trying to be the sole voice of reason. Kingdom progresses up the ramp, not wanting to look back and have his homicidal desires inspired by the images of Creed and Cruze. Unfortunately such malicious passions are increased within Kingdom the moment his eyes focus on a figure occupying the entry way.

Standing before him, is that same figure with a black towel obscuring his face, but it only hides his identity for a moment. The fans, much like Cruze, Creed and Kingdom are literally mind fucked as the towel is pulled away and the intense features of a familiar figure comes into view.

Comeau: AWOL! AWOL is HERE…

Moore: The Bald Army is complete.

Kingdom’s face is a picture of shock, his eyes fluttering and his jaw agape. He can’t believe what he’s seeing as the former World Heavyweight Champion storms straight past him and to the ring.

Mark: Hall of famer, AWOL, he’s actually, I can’t believe, he’s HERE!

Moore: And he’s still balder than a monk.

Comeau: I don’t know what’s going on, this is just BEYOND shocking. Why is AWOL back on Riot!? Stay tuned and we’ll find out.

Orlando and Nathan are near awe struck at the presence of AWOL, who slips through the ropes and into the ring, not skipping a beat.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

The greatness that was Damian Demento

FAITH

The atmosphere in the Manhattan Center is so electric their could be bolts of lightning, and even they wouldn’t be as shocking as AWOL’s arrival. The former General Manager and former World Heavyweight Champion is adorned in sweats but the only piece of his anatomy he’s here to exercise is his mouth. The sheer magnitude of his presence was enough to bring Orlando Cruze, Nathan Creed, and even Johnny Kingdom together in the ring without exchanging jabs.

Although Johnny keeps a safe distance from his partners just in case.

AWOL: Ha-ha-ha.

There is nothing jovial or light hearted about his laughter. His cackles put the image of death in each one of his former opponents’ heads.

AWOL: It’s kind of nice to be proven right from time to time.

The legends are intrigued as AWOL continues pacing and elaborates.

AWOL: I quit as GM, granted I was about to be fired, but that’s neither here nor there, because I lost FAITH in this roster. And after what I’ve seen here tonight, I now know that I was 100% right in abandoning faith in each and everyone of you…

His thick finger points in the directions of the Team Leader, The Future and The Icon. All three men remain stoic despite knowing that AWOL could lash out at them physically instead of verbally at any moment.

AWOL: Frankly you three are fucking morons.

His words are hurtful enough to bring Nathan a little closer to his former boss only to find himself restrained by Orlando.

AWOL: It’s not just sad, it’s pathetic. What I’ve seen from you so called “legends” is downright disgusting, even by my standards. Don’t any of you guys use logic anymore? JOHNNY!

AWOL turns towards Kingdom, gesturing towards the now intrigued Team Leader.

AWOL: I thought you prided yourself on being smart? On being more intelligent than anyone on the roster?

A slight smile forms on Kingdom’s face, shrugging and nodding simultaneously.

AWOL: Wipe that shit eating grin off your God damn face, or I will.

The smirk vanishes and the hostilities between age old rivals is about to explode once again. Kingdom and AWOL come nose to nose, looking to pick up where they left off at Paranoia IV.

AWOL: You got no cause to smile, Kingdom. The Conspiracy is running rough shot all over you, pissing on everything you worked so hard to build, forcing this company deeper and DEEPER into a shithole, and all you do is sit there grinning? You stand around acting smug, like your above it all, like you just don’t give a shit, like nothing affects you?

AWOL’s hand shakes, wanting to slap some sense into Kingdom as their chests bump.

AWOL: You think you’re better than EVERYONE, partners included, and you know what, that may be true. You may very well be the BEST raw athlete and most ingenious son of a bitch I’ve ever faced.

Kingdom nods, unable to argue with that logic.

AWOL: But it doesn’t matter how good you are, it doesn’t matter that you could beat the Conspiracy all on your own in a straight up match, because nothing involving the Conspiracy has EVER been straight up. They find a way to CONSISTENTLY weasel their way to victory, no matter how much it DISRESPECTS every principle this company was founded on. Principles we broke our bodies honoring.

Now Johnny doesn’t even have the motivation to grin, he’s actually listening, turning off his inner monologue for just a moment.

AWOL: Whether you want to admit it or not, you do NEED Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed at Paranoia VI. You NEED them to prevent the Conspiracy from exploiting their cheap tactics against you. You’re stepping into the ring against three of the most underhanded, manipulative dirt-bags in the history of the IWC, you can’t have eyes in the back of your head all the time. While you’re beating the living hell out of Jason Wheeler, what’s to stop Pat Evans from retrieving his steel chain behind your back? Hell, what’s to keep Dan Douglas from bringing out his ENTIRE security force, or incorporating the assistance of Alex Ingelson? Don’t you SEE!?!

AWOL shows more emotion than ever, his words truly vindicated.

AWOL: If you, Orlando, and Nathan are working as a team you can overcome these obstacles set up by the Conspiracy, you can withstand their swerves and Douglas’ abuse of power. No one man can overcome everything all of the Conspiracy’s tricks, and each of you have demonstrated that.

Creed lowers his head, remember being smacked in the skull with a camera. Johnny reflects on wining the championship then having it stolen back from him by Christian Savior all in the span of two hours. Orlando is left to contemplate how the Conspiracy paid off Alex Ingelson, a man he thought he could trust, to make a quick three count and take away his precious World Title.

AWOL: Not ONE of you have been able to overcome such odds, even I would succumb to such manipulation and tyranny. But together, the story is entirely different. Don’t walk into the cage and be a martyr Kingdom, don’t step in there alone to prove some point to yourself, just to be stubborn and stick it to S&K. Live by our moniker Kingdom, be a TEAM LEADER. Stop concentrating on this ridiculous rivalry with your teammates and put your head on Steel Cage Elimination, it’s going to take all your brain power to make it through what the Conspiracy throws at you. You can’t be worried that Orlando will steal your thunder, or that Nathan will screw up, or your partners will turn on you any second you get, you’ve got to be FOCUSED.

AWOL lowers his head, sliding his palm down his face before his eyes slowly creep up and take in Kingdom’s stoic image.

AWOL: The only way you can accomplish that is by being on the same page with your partners. Believe me, I’ve spent a lot of time kicking their asses in the past, these two can take even an AWOL beating and keep coming back. Their going to be in that cage with you like it or not, NOTHING is going to keep them away. So you might want to go ahead and embrace the idea of accomplishing something as a team, instead of failing miserably as a solo act.

Now the same intense eyes of the IWC legend transfer to Nathan Creed, who doesn’t dare to grin.

AWOL: Like I just said, Creed, you are one of the toughest bastards I’ve ever went to war against here in the IWC.

Nathan nods, much like Kingdom, he can’t argue when AWOL is 100% right.

AWOL: But maybe all those shots I’ve given you to the ole’ noggin have begun to take their toll.

There is no more nodding, just an angry stare in AWOL’s direction.

AWOL: Because if you honestly think that you can step into the cage without Kingdom, and emerge victorious from a 2 on 4 disadvantage, then there’s GOT to be some loose wiring in your head. Listen Nathan, I’ll give you props for being inventive, for swerving the Conspiracy REPEATEDLY, even if the rest of us could see the writing on the wall, but no tricks, no swerves are going to get you through this one. The Conspiracy has a whole BARREL of monkeys that their just waiting to open in that cage, and no fake amnesia, ex lovers, and steel pipes are gonna be enough to survive it. You may have shown you have a brain, which I often doubted…

Creed becomes even more intense.

AWOL: You may have proven that you can manipulate with the best of them, but if you were to combine your conniving powers with Kingdom, just think of the horror you could unleash on the Conspiracy in Steel Cage Elimination. My God, the thought even frightens ME.

Nathan and Johnny make eye contact.

AWOL: Now wouldn’t that be a much more PRODUCTIVE use of your intellects than just wasting it trying to come up with ways to trump one another? Wouldn’t it be better to use your brains for something other than ribbing each other with sophomoric, childish insults?

Orlando stares between his partners, insisting that that’s what he’s been trying to tell them all along.

AWOL: Why not put your heads together, outsmart the Conspiracy, and once they’ve been finished off THEN go back to work terrorizing one another? Is that too much to ask? Is being RATIONALE and LOGICAL that difficult? Nathan, you say you’re the Future? Well there’s not going to be a future for you and everyone else on this roster if you can’t get over your petty hatred for Kingdom, and get your mind on beating the Conspiracy.

Now it’s Orlando’s time for some insightful words, the Icon staring down the Big Crazy Son of a Bitch. The crowd can literally feel the tension between them, becoming so thick it would take a machete to hack through.

AWOL: I’ve never liked you Orlando, and you’ve NEVER liked me.

It’s Cruze turn to nod this time.

AWOL: But every time we’ve faced I have to admit it, you were always at the top of your game, you REFUSED to let outside influences sway your attention. Your mind is always fully in the match, and your body is just as prepared for the war. But I’ve watched as that inhuman dedication and devotion slip away.

Orlando: Yeah, you can blame Kingdom for that.

He points in Johnny’s direction only to have his hand swiped down by a now furious AWOL.

AWOL: The only one to blame is YOURSELF. This is all because of your own bruised ego!

The Icon is nose to nose with the S.O.B., tensions escalating even higher.

AWOL: You may not have started this Cruze, but you’ve egged it on. You’ve added fuel to the fire. I watched you Rock Bottom Johnny time and time again, even when you weren’t provoked. You know damn well you could have ended ALL your problems with Kingdom if you had just given him a rematch for the number one contendership, but NOOOOO, you had to complicate matters. Your unforgiving hatred for Kingdom led you two into a rivalry for the number one contendership that ultimately proved to be pointless.

AWOL doesn’t nod, he shakes his head.

AWOL: Yeah, I guess all the Rock Bottoms, and the Exodus Finales, the attacks backstage, the brawls in the ring, the insults exchanged were worth it, huh? Remind me why every thing I just said was bullshit? Oh yeah, that’s right, because the Conspiracy swooped in, stole the number one contenders spot for themselves and it’s ultimately brought us to Steel Cage Elimination. None of that would have happened if you had given Johnny a rematch right away, settled any controversy and went to work against the Conspiracy. But wait, wait, I’m wrong, your rivalry with Kingdom under the guise of a title shot, even though we all know this goes much deeper than that, did accomplish something.

The crowd waits for the punch-line, much like the legends in the ring.

AWOL: It’s made the Conspiracy all the more powerful.

Orlando feels a strange sensation in his stomach, not gas, remorse.

AWOL: You’re an Icon, right? An Icon is a man who embodies something, who sacrifices themselves to put their industry on the map. I haven’t seen you sacrifice anything lately, Orlando. And I sure as shit don’t see you embodying ANYTHING! But even with the little bit of time you have left in your career you can change that. You can sacrifice that warm feeling you get each time your knuckles connect with Kingdom’s face, and you can embody EVERYTHING that a hero, an ICON, represents by working as a TEAM!

AWOL steps back and overlooks the trio before him, each man questioning their actions as of late.

AWOL: You know, I was confused at first. No, I was downright BOTHERED by the fact that Sallie and Krissie teamed you three together. I mean, Orlando, Johnny, you two can’t last a whole tag match together without trading blows, which cost you the Tag Titles to the Conspiracy. Nathan, you’ve lied to the Icon time and time again, how hard would it have been to bring your best friend into the loop? And your personal issue with Kingdom not only cost him the World Championship, but gave the belt back to, you guessed it, the Conspiracy. So yeah, I was questioning the thought process behind the three of you teaming up, but then I realized something….

The legends are intrigued.

AWOL: What would be the point of putting you guys into matches against one another? Why SHOULD Sallie and Krissie put ONE of you against the Conspiracy for the World Title? If Nathan were facing Christian again, Kingdom, or Cruze would find a way to get involved anyhow, and it probably would have just fucked things up. Your grudges against one another will not allow for either of you to let the other have success. But given you ALL a shot at the Conspiracy, giving the three of you a common foe worth abandoning your petty personal grudges to face, I can understand. Why haven’t the three of you realized that yet? You HATE the Conspiracy, squabbling amongst yourselves isn’t going to get rid of them, it’s only going to make them stronger, and they’re just going to continue destroying the very thing your trying to protect.

At that AWOL moves towards the ropes, beginning to slid through, actually sitting on the middle rope before he pauses and offers one final comment.

AWOL: I left because I lost faith….prove me wrong, PLEASE, prove me wrong. And don’t let the company that MADE us who we are today, go down alongside you.

AWOL slips through the ropes and drops to the outside mats, immediately embarking up the ramp towards the backstage area. He leaves behind three of the worlds greatest talents, who finally toy with the idea of working through their problems and working together.

Comeau: What a speech from AWOL.

Moore: It touched me on so many levels, even in my who-who.

Mark: Thanks for ruining yet another great moment.

Although AWOL can’t see it, considering he just vanished to the back through the curtains, inside of the ring Nathan has tentatively extended his hand towards the Team Leader. Kingdom stares down into the palm suspiciously, and for good reason. He wonders if he’ll receive another shower from the Future, but puts aside such paranoia for the sake of the company. He abandons his principles and shakes hands with Creed.

Mark: There’s something I didn’t think we’d see by end of the night.

Moore: Two men showing plutonic love for one another, is their nothing more homoerotic?

Kingdom takes his hand away from Creed then swallows hard as he extends his palm to the Icon. Orlando is almost overcome by shock, his knees getting weak as he realizes Johnny desires a handshake to demonstrate their solidarity come two Sundays from now.

Much like the Team Leader, it takes every fiber of Orlando’s strength to lift his arm, fighting against raw, unbridled hatred, and interlock his hand with Kingdom’s. The crowd is jumping out of their seats in joy, never thinking in a million years they would see Kingdom and Cruze show respect for one another.

Comeau: Things have just gotten a whole lot worse for the Conspiracy….

Moore: Did they get their heads stuck in a honey jar?

Mark: Not that I know of, I was actually about to say that their opponents are on the same page going into Paranoia VI, as unbelievable as that may sound. Well ladies and gentlemen, this concludes a terrific night in the annals of IWC history, rivals have become allies and….wait, what is this I’m hearing?

Mark puts a finger to the mic in his ear.

Susie: Is Claw giving you orders again?

Comeau: No, apparently something is happening backstage again. Can some….

Before he can finish his sentence the titantron comes to life with images of AWOL not walking away with his head held high, but crawling on all fours with his face aimed to the floor. A bit of blood drips from his skull as a steel chair whacks him violently over the back, bringing him to the concrete. Hovering above him like circling vultures are the Conspiracy, unified in their beat down of the S.O.B.

Mark: AWOL assaulted as soon as he made it backstage, the jackals were just waiting to get their hands on S&K’s mystery guest.

Moore: I still think it’s Harvey Firestone.

AWOL does not utter a single cry or does not bring himself to beg, even as he’s taken under the jaw and his head is raised to stare into Wheeler’s face.

Jason: I don’t hear you talking anymore AWOL. SPEAK! Come on boy, SPEAK!!

No words come from AWOL’s mouth, only blood stained saliva. Crimson sprinkles gather across Wheeler’s face while Douglas moves in and slaps the former GM to his face. He now bends forward, unconcerned with the possibility of AWOL spitting blood at him, deeming it well worth the risk.

Douglas: You have NO IDEA how long I’ve waited to get my hands on you, AWOL. You, and legends like you, have made my career a living hell!

AWOL: You haven’t experienced hell, yet. Ha-ha-ha.

As soon as these words are spoken, Christian and Evans drag AWOL up to his feet, charge him across the hall and pitch him head first into number pipes stacked vertically. His battered frame bashes against the steel and collapses to a knee, the pipes falling on top of him.

Orlando, Nathan, and Kingdom are already barreling up the ramp, casting off any inhibitions about working together in the common interest of preventing a further beat down on AWOL, even if they do mutually dislike him.

Unfortunately they’re too late to stop the Conspiracy from pinning AWOL against the cement ground as Christian moves in and gives him a one man conchairto. AWOL’s head is smashed between concrete and steel, the crowd on the inside of the arena booing over this grotesque act, just one of many unbearable acts committed by the Conspiracy.

Comeau: NOO! NOT AGAIN!

Savior stoops over AWOL so that his barely conscious brain can take in what he’s saying.

Christian: Save your speeches, AWOL. Nothing you said tonight is going to change what happens at Paranoia. Your old friends will tear each other to limbs and we’ll move in to pick up the pieces. I’ll leave World Champion, and the Conspiracy will be the unquestionable rulers of this federation.

The words are said with such intensity that it’s clear Christian believes every syllable passing through his gritting teeth. He steps back, breathing heavy and joining his Conspiracy comrades. He takes Douglas by a wrist and Wheeler by his hand as well, all four men lifting their arms into the air. They strike a victorious pose while standing over the broken legend known as AWOL.

FADE TO BLACK