OPENING VIDEO PACKAGE

RIOT!

A dazzling pyrotechnics display rocks the Manhattan Center, resulting in a raucous reception from the fans. They dance excitedly in the stands as another Riot! hits the airwaves.

Mark Comeau: An electric atmosphere here in the Manhattan Center tonight. The fans excited and for good reason, because Riot! is live and a new era is upon us here in the IWC.

Susie Moore: That’s right, cause I got my hair cut. And my new cute hairdo is cause for celebration.

Comeau: Susie, you just put your hair into a pony tail, that doesn’t count as getting it cut. But let’s CUT right to the chase, a new Champion was crowned at Paranoia VI, and Johnny Kingdom will immediately be put to the test tonight as he makes his first World Title defense against Axl Evermore. And we’ve also learned that Orlando Cruze will be here live and in person for the final time to address his fans. What a huge night this is shaping up to be.

PORNO LAD VS. CHRISTIAN SAVIOR
HARDCORE RULES

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

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

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

You think you know me?!

I’m…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Savior climbs up onto the apron, removing his coat. He discards it to a stagehand then slips through the ropes with the title still shimmering around his trim waist. He finally removes it and tosses the Tag Championship to the referee, the belt being of little significance to him. His now cold, almost demonic eyes gaze over the booing audience. Obviously he is suffering from a lot of mental strain as a result of his title loss at Paranoia.

Comeau: Well Christian looks a little lighter, about fifteen pounds lighter in fact.

Moore: He must be on the Jenny Craig diet.

Mark: Actually, I was alluding to the fact that he is no longer World Heavyweight Champion, a fact that no doubt unsettles him as he enters the ring tonight. There’s even more cause to be unsettled for Christian given the man he’s about to face, a competitor who has seemingly had his number around every corner.

Susie: My number is around every corner too, actually it’s in every bathroom stall apparently.

The moment that his opponent’s entrance begins, Savior rolls out of the ring and begins to fidget with something in his pocket.

Offspring provides the tunes for Porno Lad’s entrance. The second that his music cues up the adrenaline starts flowing throughout the Manhattan Center. The males cry out for their hero and the females get a little soggier in their britches at the thought of Porno Lad. It’s a truly unisex reaction from the crowd at the sight of the original prankster himself. The N.H.B Champion steps to the stage with the gold sparkling about his neck and his body gyrating to the rhythm of his music.

Moore: YAAAAY! Porno Lad’s here. I got a reason to be happy now. See look, I’m smiling, that’s what people do when they’re happy.

Mark: Uh, DUH!

Susie: Well you never smile.

Comeau: Believe me, I do grin the second I get away from this announce table. Porno Lad on his way to the ring for a match that could have several HUGE ramifications on the World Heavyweight Title division. He’s about to clash with a man he’s not only wrestled, but BEATEN, twice, in former World Champion Christian Savior.

Porno Lad has hoped to the apron, lifts a fist to the crowd and then swings his body through the ropes into the ring. He removes the belt he’s newly redesigned and tosses it to the official, less preoccupied with his gold and more focused on hamming it up to the audience. They shower him with praise while Mark babbles on in the background.

Mark: The issues between these two have been building for weeks and now we’re going to see what happens when they fight under Hardcore Rules to kick…..

Before the sentence can be finished, Mark, Susie, and the entire audience finds themselves stunned as Christian Savior hops onto the apron behind Porno Lad, holding a steel spike in hand.

Mark: HEY! Christian trying to get the drop on Porno Lad.

Susie: Turn around, turn around Porny!

Comeau: Do you see that look in the former World Champion’s eyes? He looks as if he’s completely lost his mind as he holds that SYMBOLIC spike.

Christian slips into the ring behind Porno Lad and immediately charges forward, lifting his spike in the direction of both the champion and a terrified Referee Wright. That’s when Porno Lad spins around and surprises Savior by spearing him to the ribs. Christian is taken down, the spike falling out of his hand. Porno Lad now climbs on top of Christian and begins to repeatedly jab him to the forehead.

Comeau: Porno Lad saw it coming. He caught Christian before Savior could reach him with that spike in hand.

Susie: I guess Porno Lad has a sixth sense, he’s just like the Ghost Whisperer, only has no gigantic hooters.

The Prankster continues to unload on Savior with jab after jab after jab before the Rising Phoenix rakes him to the eyes and rolls away. He spills to the outside mats, looking stunned that his maniacal plot backfired. Porno Lad stands up, grabs the spike from the canvas and tosses it to the outside.

He turns back towards Christian who has hopped to the apron, once again trying to get in a sneak attack. This time he’s snatched up a chair from ringside, intent on brutalizing the N.H.B Champion with it. Porno Lad quickly drops down into a baseball slide dropkick though, his boots nailing Savior to the ankle and knocking his feet out from under him.

Christian collapses face first off of the apron, bouncing off and then staggering backwards into the barrier. A startled Rising Phoenix leans on the steel for support while Porno Lad exits the ring and charges straight at him. He delivers a lariat to Savior’s throat, knocking him over the barricade into the squealing crowd.

Mark: Now this fight crashing into the sea of humanity. What an insane way to start off Riot! here tonight. Savior TRIED to get in a sneak attack on the man who has shockingly pinned him twice over the past few weeks, but Porno Lad even had that scouted. Must have watched Christian’s last singles match against David Freak.

Moore: No, probably didn’t, Porno Lad only watches Paris Hilton’s “My New BFF.” It’s pretty much religion to people like he and I.

Porno Lad steps over the barricade and continues after Christian, catching him with a hard blow under the jaw as the Phoenix rose to his feet. Christian is still all shaken up by these blows, having come into the match with a lot of gusto and motivation only to have it beaten out of him thus far.

A forearm connects over Christian’s back, causing him to stagger forward through the crowd, and actually fall into a fan’s seat. He uses it for support while Porno Lad reaches out and begins to flagrantly fish hook both sides of his mouth, trying to rip Christian’s head in two. He stomps his feet and tries to free himself as Porno Lad pulls even harder on both ends.

Mark: Porno Lad fish-hooking Savior, trying to rip that flesh.

Moore: Fish hooks are dangerous, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve got them stuck in my mouth. They shouldn’t make those lures so bright and shinny.

Porno Lad now drives an elbow down into the scalp of Savior, causing him to become even more disorientated. He once again reaches down and this time sinks his fingers into Savior’s nostrils, pulling back with all his strength. That’s when Christian reaches up and once again rakes the eyes of Porno Lad.

This last ditch effort is enough to save the World Champion who promptly gets to his feet, turns the chair he was just seated on and charges at it. He steps off of the chair and launches himself at a momentarily blinded Porno Lad, catching him around the neck and delivering a tornado DDT.

Comeau: Now their actually diving around through the crowd. I hope we have a good legal team in case the fans sue us.

Moore: For what? They should be paying us to be this close to Porno Lad.

Mark: Um, they DO pay us to be this close to the action, but not be a part of.

Christian stands up and staggers towards the mischievous one, who is diligently trying to clear out of his seat. The moment he stands up he’s grabbed by the back of the head and slammed face first into the seat of a vacant chair. Porno Lad stands up, looking lost in dementia. Savior exacerbates the extent of said injuries by twisting Porno Lad around, snatching hold of his wrist and whipping him towards the wall separating the lower portion of the crowd from those seated in the balconies above.

Porno Lad charges straight at it but then surprises everyone by stepping up the wall and flipping back. He actually lands on his feet and then thrusts his arms out to his sides, pandering to the audience. That’s when a steel chair cracks violently against his back, having been swung by the ever so diabolical Savior.

The move sends the Champion staggering face first into the wall anyway, his skull cracking off of it before he tumbles to the ground.

Comeau: A VICIOUS shot from the chair incapacitating Porno Lad. If only he had eyes in the back of his head.

Moore: Then he’d be a circus freak, which would be AWESOME!

The chair is tossed to the concrete and Savior goes right to work on the downed Porno Lad with stomp after stomp to his chest and stomach. The Champion tries feebly to protect himself even as he’s pulled to his feet and whipped into the wall yet again. He turns and cracks against it forcefully spine first, his bones almost shattered by the impact. He begins to stagger forward when Christian delivers a heinous big boot right between his eyes, taking him down to the concrete.

Christian starts forward through the crowd, threatening them before they step aside out of fear. He turns back towards Porno Lad, bending forward and preparing to unleash the dreaded spear. The crowd pleads with Porno Lad, begging him to stay down as he rolls towards them and begins to employ an empty chair to assist himself to his feet.

The moment he is upright is when Savior comes barreling forward, looking to unleash the dreaded Blaze of Glory. Just before he can connect Porno Lad side steps Christian, hooks his arm and hip tosses him into rows of empty chairs. The crowd just barely gets out of the way as Savior’s body smashes through the steel and ends up sprawled across the concrete.

Comeau: Ahhh, Porno Lad just sent Savior flying into those chairs. This match just demonstrates how quickly the issues between these two have escalated in such a short span of time.

The fans are still going bonkers after that last homicidal hip toss in their now destroyed chairs. Savior sits up with every inch of his spine aching and his jaw dropped from the agony. He sluggishly begins to ascend to his feet when Porno Lad steps in and shuts his jaw via an uppercut. The blow knocks Christian back, finding himself sprawled across the concrete.

All the while Porno Lad is stepping towards the squealing fans, jumping into a few of the heavier ones. A plus sized bald man now holds him aloft as the Champion wraps his arms around the big gentleman’s head and lifts a fist into the air, celebrating despite not actually being victorious as of yet. He briefly spit shines the bald cranium of the fan and then drops to the concrete, once again approaching a disorientated Savior.

Christian tentatively gets to his feet when he’s clobbered over the upper back with a forearm then spun around and placed in a front chancery. Obviously his opponent is preparing to DDT him onto nothing more than exposed concrete. Before that can happen, Christian catches hold of Porno Lad’s knee and hoists him up into a flapjack in the crowd.

Somehow Porno Lad is able to counter, slipping over Savior’s shoulder and down his back. He pulls him down into a sunset flip on the exposed concrete floor. Official Wright darts into the crowd and drops down to make the count, realizing that falls count anywhere under hardcore rules.

1

2

Savior kicks out and rolls backwards onto his feet, grabbing a chair in the process then throwing it with all his strength directly into Porno Lad’s face. The steel bashes against his skull and knocks him to his spine, his eyes awkwardly fluttering.

Comeau: Porno Lad going for the first three count in this hardcore brawl but Savior escapes then gives him a taste of steel.

Moore: That’ll totally ruin Porno Lad’s dinner.

Although light heated and still reeling from that hip toss into the chairs, Savior moves in to capitalize on Porno Lad’s prone state. He grabs a chair, places it on top of Porno Lad’s face then stomps down into the steel violently. A groan escapes the trickster’s lungs, causing him to roll to his shoulder groaning from the anguish.

Mark: Now he’s forcing the chair down Porno Lad’s throat!

Moore: HEY! Porno Lad is supposed to be on a diet. Quit playing devil’s advocate Christian.

Savior drops down to Porno Lad’s side, rolls him over onto his stomach then lifts his skull into the air. He slams it down over and over again into the chair stretched across the concrete. The crowd is groaning and grimacing with each slam that almost shatters their hero’s skull.

Their screams are like music to a disgruntled Savior’s ears, prompting him to continue driving the Champion’s skull against the steel. Finally he drags the dazed trickster to his knees and then throws him back first into the wall. Somehow Porno Lad is still sitting up, his eyes glazed over and drool seeping from the corner of his mouth.

With his opponent perfectly positioned, Savior approaches a chair, folds it up and moves in to slam it against Porno Lad’s face. The move would certainly crush the champion’s skull between steel and wall, which the crowd realizes. They squeal as the steel travels straight towards Porno Lad’s face only for him to move out of the way at the last second.

The chair cracks against he wall and the shockwave reverberates through the steel straight into Savior’s fingers. He turns away wincing in pain while his opposition instinctively crawls towards the stairs leading up into the balcony. He grabs the hand railing, forcing himself up each step at a sluggish pace.

He can feel Savior’s hot breathe on the back of his neck, prompting him to drop down and roll under the railing to the opposite side. A flustered Christian steps around the railing, trying to get his hands on Porno Lad who suddenly rolls back to the opposite side.

Christian now jumps over the railing, still trying to get his hands on Porno Lad. Once again he, you guessed it, rolls under the railing, continuing to use it to separate himself from Savior. Christian slaps the railing in frustration while the fans elicit much amusement from the Champion’s antics.

Finally Savior reaches over and tries to grab at his opposition only to have Porno Lad fall back, his head stuck under the railing. That’s when he reaches up and wraps his hands around the rail then uses it to pull himself up into the air. He extends his legs, throwing them up and over the railing before ultimately wrapping them around Christian’s neck. To the shock of everyone Porno Lad lets go of the railing and swings Savior around into a leg scissors.

Christian flips forward off of the steps and crashes across the outside mats to a thunderous reaction.

Mark: What a move involving that railing.

Moore: I think Porno Lad has found himself a new tag team partner. But ONLY a tag team partner, he had better not be smitten with it.

Savior feebly tries to get to his feet, gripping the back of his neck in the process. Somehow he does get to his feet only to find himself stunned at the sight of Porno Lad now sitting on the hand railing and sliding down it. Porno Lad slides right down to the end and flies off into a front dropkick, both boots connecting to Christian’s sternum. The former Champion is launched backwards into the fans, who clear out of the way, not even trying to catch him.

Susie: Wow, that looked fun!

Savior crashes to his back and rolls in reverse between the enthused audience while Porno Lad lands on his bum. He reaches for his posterior, using the railing to assist himself to his feet. He kisses his fingers then places them to the railing, thanking it for its assistance.

He now goes back to work on Savior, realizing that he’s got him EXACTLY where he wants him. He steps in and cocks back his fist, about to unload on the kneeling Savior when suddenly the Rising Phoenix drags an elderly fan into the way. The screeching old lady holds up her palms towards Porno Lad, who has yet to lower his fist. He seems to be weighing the pros and cons of assaulting an old woman, sure he’s always wanted to try it, but the legal action might be quite costly.

Suddenly the old lady is pitched out of the way by Christian who steps in and delivers a swift kick right to Porno Lad’s gonads. The Prankster is doubled over, both hands cradling his junk as Savior grabs him around the neck and charges at the barricade.

The crowd clears a path as Savior charges Porno Lad like he were a battering ram skull first into the steel plated barricade. He bounces off of the steel and then falls to his knees, looking incredibly dazed. Unfortunately for him, Savior isn’t quite done yet. He once again takes Porno Lad around the neck and forces him up into a side headlock.

He backs Porno Lad up then charges him skull first into the barrier once again. This time Porno Lad shoves him off though, sending Savior rushing straight into the barricade. Instead of hitting it, Christian lunges into the air, flying over the barricade and landing straight on his feet.

Savior is pleased with his display of agility but much like Porno Lad a few moments earlier, he lives to regret his display of arrogance. As he turns back towards the barrier he finds himself stunned at the sight of Porno Lad rushing through the crowd, stepping off the top of the barricade and lunging right at him. He lands on Christian’s shoulders, spins around and connects with a breathtaking hurricarana.

Comeau: Porno Lad continuing to dazzle. It amazes me just how far this young man has come sense he first appeared in the IWC. He’s transformed himself into one of the best wrestlers on the roster.

Moore: I liked him more when he was battling people with giant fake Hulk fists.

The Rising Phoenix is all shaken up and discombobulated by these numerous blows he’s withstood thus far yet he somehow rolls to his seat. That’s when Porno Lad comes charging in and delivering a knee strike straight to his face. The strike knocks Christian to his back as Porno Lad falls on top of him for the pin. Wright drops down and slaps the mats.

1

2

Porno Lad finds himself rather flustered as Savior launches his shoulder from the mats.

Comeau: Christian refusing to go down a third time to Porno Lad, even after suffering that tremendous hurricarana and the running knee strike.

The Phoenix lives up to his moniker by trying to RISE to his feet, aided by the barricade. He has no idea that Porno Lad is waiting anxiously behind him. After a while he gets fed up with waiting for Savior to stand, prompting him to move in, spin Christian around and deliver a vicious European Uppercut to his jaw.

The blow almost sends Savior flipping backwards over the barricade into the crowd. Somehow he maintains his footing though, just long enough for Porno Lad to hop to an apron and prepare for a dive. He looks out over the crowd, slamming his fist to his sternum then flies off the apron into a spinning heel kick.

The Van Dam esque move misses its mark, causing Porno Lad to bash thigh first into the barrier. He bounces off and tumbles to the mats, grabbing at his leg in a significant amount of pain.

Comeau: Porno Lad tried to fly around that ring a little too much, it finally caught up with him.

Moore: Porno Lad can fly? I knew it!

Even though his leg may be broken after that collision with the barricade, Porno Lad is already struggling towards his feet. He gets up when Savior lunges in and connects with a dropkick to his sternum. The blow knocks Porno Lad up and over the barricade into the screaming crowd.

He hits the ground hard then immediately tries to get up, plagued by the physicality in this bout thus far. He finally reaches his feet when Savior steps in, reaches over the barricade and grabs hold of his hair. A shocked Porno Lad is dragged back over the barrier until only his ankles are draped across the top of it.

Christian has Porno Lad elevated above the mats just long enough to place him in a front chancery then drop back into a DDT. The Manhattan Center fans lunge out of their seats as Porno Lad crashes across the top of his head then springs to his back in a crippled heap.

Comeau: What a move from the Rising Phoenix, a sickening DDT against those mats. I’m stunned by the amount of violence in our opening bout here tonight.

Savior crawls towards Porno Lad and hooks his leg while Wright makes the count.

1

2

Now its Christian’s turn to be flustered, Porno Lad kicking out with mere seconds to spare.

Savior reaches his feet and plucks Porno Lad up to his as well before rushing him at the ring, rolling him in under the ropes. A dazed and disorientated trickster finds himself sprawled across the mats, gripping at his skull due to the trauma of the DDT. On the outside Savior has snatched the spike off of the mats, lifting it into the air and giving it a truly demonic glare.

Comeau: Oh great, Savior has got hold of that spike once again.

Moore: Let’s hope he doesn’t Lorena Bobbit, Porno Lad with it.

The twisted Savior slides into the ring, resting on his knees and glaring at the recovering Porno Lad, moments from bludgeoning him with the spike. He stands up, hovering over his recovering opponent, moments from getting the blood flowing.

Comeau: No Savior, NO! Don’t take your loss out on Porno Lad.

Moore: Yeah, just bury your problems into a pint of ice-cream like the rest of us do.

A dazed Porno Lad is still trying to get up and regain his faculties after that DDT, having no idea that Savior is laying in wait to drum up the violence. As soon as he gets his feet beneath him, Christian moves in for the kill. That’s when he turns and nails referee Wright right between the eyes with his weapon.

Comeau: AAAAH, Savior just spiked Wright! The very official who counted the three at Paranoia VI.

Moore: Least it wasn’t Porno Lad.

The official crumbles to the canvas like a sack of potatoes, the crowd expressing their disbelief over what they’ve just witnessed. Blood is already trickling down Wright’s face yet Christian isn’t satisfied. He lifts the spike and prepares to go back to work only to be spun around by Porno Lad who is now going for the Epic Fail.

Before the twisting superkick can connect, Christian dives out of the ring and out of harm’s way. Porno Lad spins all the way around, finding himself wide eyed and angry as Savior high tails it. The former World Champion steps to the edge of the stage and begins to back up it, his expression that of an absolute madman’s.

Comeau: What the hell is Savior doing? Has the man absolutely lost his mind tonight?

Moore: Probably. Doesn’t even look like he’s conditioned his hair.

Mark: Was Wright his original target all along? I guess Christian only cared about brutalizing the referee who he blames for costing him the World Championship.

Porno Lad has his arms thrust out to his sides as he stands over the bloodied referee, demanding to know what Savior is thinking. Christian only puts on a twisted grin as he continues to back up the ramp.

Savior: I’m not here to take you out tonight. I’ve got bigger fish to fry.

With the spike in hand Christian continues to back peddle up the ramp, eye contact still made with a perplexed Porno Lad.

Porno Lad: You can’t walk away from a Hardcore Match or get disqualified. This match is STILL going you stupid….

Unbeknownst to Porno Lad, two figures have rolled out from under the ring behind him. To the shock of the Manhattan Center audience, Hurse and Jackson Adams slide into the ring.

Mark: What is this now!?! Hurse and Jackson Adams have just crawled out from under the ring! Watch out Porno Lad! WATCH OUT!

Moore: Dammit, there should be a limit on how many people can hide under the ring at one time.

The X-Class Champion and Hurse charge up behind Porno Lad before he can force Savior to continue this match. In fact Porno Lad was right in the middle of slip through the ropes to get his hands on Christian when he’s taken by the back of the tights and pulled backwards into an unprettier position. Adams spins Porno Lad around, about to plant him face first into the canvas before he’s pushed off.

Although he’s stunned by this from behind attack, Porno Lad is still holding his own. A bereaved Hurse charges at his nemesis only to walk into a boot to the ribs, doubling him over. Porno Lad now delivers a European Uppercut to his jaw, taking him down to the canvas. That’s when Jackson rushes in only to be taken down with a spinning heel kick from the N.H.B Champion.

Comeau: Look at Porno Lad go, he’s taking it to Adams and Hurse even after competing in this Hardcore Match. Which I guess has been thrown out, if that’s even possible.

Porno Lad rushes to his feet and steps between both of his kneeling opponents, connecting with right hands to their faces. The crowd is cheering him on all the while, but are quite dejected that his old rivals have kept him from getting Christian back into the ring. Savior has stepped unimpeded to the backstage area, leaving Hurse and Adams at the mercy of his vindictive opponent.

Moore: Get ‘em Porny, get ‘em real good!

Comeau: I guess Hurse just hasn’t had enough of being Porno Lad’s bitch.

Porno Lad steps in and connects with yet another right hand straight to Hurse’s face when Jackson lunges at the champion from behind. He connects with a shoulder block directly to the crease of Porno Lad’s knee. The blow brings him to a crawling base when Hurse quickly begins to clobber him over the back. Both men now stand over him delivering stomp after stomp to his already aching body.

Mark: The toll of that Hardcore Match finally catching up with Porno Lad as he is now victimized by Adams and Hurse. What a shocking start to Riot! this has been thus far.

The boots continue to reign down onto a now disorientated Porno Lad before Jackson takes him by the hair and the back of his tights. The N.H.B Champion is dragged to his feet and thrown head first towards a smiling Hurse. He finds his head trapped under the Master of Control’s posterior, Hurse setting up for the Sanitizer.

Comeau: Now he’s going to lay Porno Lad out with his version of the Styles Clash. This night not starting well for the N.H.B Champion.

Moore: Me either, I still haven’t got my snow cone.

Hurse takes particular delight in the move he’s about to deliver, almost salivating at the thought. His grin is so huge it could cut the Manhattan Center right in half. Jackson is shouting at him to uncoil his wrath, to hit the move and avenge what Porno Lad did to him at Paranoia VI. Hurse does exactly as the doctor orders, reaching down to wrap his arms around Porno Lad’s waist and hoist him up into his finishing move. That’s when a set of hands reach under the rope and grabs the Champion’s ankle, pulling him out of the Sanitizer positionas well as out of the ring..

A very disorientated Porno Lad doesn’t even realize he’s now being supported by the miniscule frame of Katelyn Buehler.

Mark: Katelyn Buehler SAVING Porno Lad. I still don’t think it’s dawned on her that they are NOT an item.

Susie: I hope they aren’t, it might complicate things, and I hate complications.

Comeau: Yes, your brain is too feeble to figure a way out of them. Nevertheless, Katelyn has prevented her “husband” from delivering the Sanitizer on her “ex” lover.

Moore: I would have done it, if I were given more time to put on my costume, which pretty much just involves me putting on glasses. Apparently if you put on glasses, people won’t be able to tell who you really are.

Porno Lad is all but dead on his feet, supported by Buehler as she leads him to the backstage area. All the while she glares over her shoulder in Hurse’s direction. Although the former World Champion would normally be beside himself in anger over his wife’s insolence, he remains composed on this occasion. In fact, he’s even the one holding back a livid Adams.

Comeau: What a twisted start to tonight’s Riot! Christian spiked Wright, Hurse and Jackson Adams tried to jump Porno Lad, and Katelyn Buehler has saved him. Things are already getting out of control. What’s going to happen when the NEW World Champion gets here?

Moore: I hope it involves a piñata.

Buehler continues to scowl at her husband, none too pleased by his actions here tonight.

DISCRETION

Backstage a set of doors slowly come ajar. A sliver of light from outside the Manhattan Center finds its way through the entrance and invades the backstage corridors. With trepidation a head enters the building as well, eyes quickly scouting the surroundings. Once he’s ensured that the coast is clear, Jason Wheeler steps confidently inside. The mere sight of the Black Cat is enough to induce vomiting from the fans, especially as he bulks up his chest and shows off his Tag Team Title, gold glistening over his shoulder.

He whistles as confident as a man taking a stroll through the park despite the fact that he’s entering a building full of cut throats and psychopaths all seeking revenge against him. As he steps forward, bag slung over his shoulder, he pauses only momentarily to eye an older stagehand seated in a chair beside the entrance.

Jason: Who the hell are you? The greeter? I thought they only employed the geriatric at Wal-Mart.

The older gentleman tries to offer an explanation for why he’s taking a smoke break during work hours but is quickly shot down by the Black Cat.

Wheeler: Yeah, yeah, yeah, neither of us have the time for you to explain. What with me being a busy man, and you having only seconds to live before you collapse into a pile of dust. Just tell me one thing; where’s Pat Evans?

The stagehand looks confused.

Jason: Come on, come on, answers, let’s hear them Father Time. I don’t have all day Moses.

Stagehand: He’s uhhh, in the Conspiracy’s old dressing room.

Jason exhales with relief.

Wheeler: There? Was that so hard? You can get out your inhaler and take a few puffs now. Oh, and here.

A dollar bill is fished out of his pocket in order to show gratitude. As the older fellow reaches for it, Jason places the single to his nostrils and blows. Once he’s ensured that the dollar is significantly covered in mucus he balls it up and tosses it into the old man’s chest.

Jason: You’ll probably get a million bucks for that on E-Bay.

Jason steps around the stagehand, who watches him depart in disgust.

Mark: THE most wanted man in the IWC is here. Jason Wheeler arriving discreetly and for good reason, what with his former allies and long time rivals out to get him here tonight. But why is he asking about Pat Evans? He’s one of the guys who wants Jason’s blood.

Moore: Apparently it’s much easier to get his snot, that’s what Evans should be after.

Comeau: Things only continuing to get more interesting here tonight on Riot!

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Midget abuse, the ultimate form of entertainment

OHH SHINNY

We return from commercial to the inside of the ring, where the new Cartel Champion, Axl Evermore, is standing with microphone in hand, Cartel Title around his waist...and a rather tall box with a handle sticking out of the top.

Mark Comeau: We're back with RIOT! and our new Cartel Champion--and evident Number-One Contender for the IWC Championship--has been standing in the ring for quite a few minutes now. During the commercial break, he lugged that HUGE box over to the ring, as we can see there!

Susie Moore: ...OOOH, I wonder if it's full of soft fluffy kittens?

Comeau: Then there'd need to be airholes; please be a LITTLE bit realistic for the first RIOT! of the new season, Susie. *AHEM* Getting back to the matter at hand, Evermore brought that box out with a HUGE grin on his face, which is certainly an indication of SOMETHING big--at least in his mind--about to go down...

Axl Evermore: Ladies...gentlemen...everybody in-between and outside-of...before I go any further, I just gotta get this off my chest--GODDAMN it feels good to walk out of Paranoia as the first THREE-time Cartel Champion in this company!

The crowd cheers at the 3-time Cartel Champion.

AE: Yes, it IS a great feeling. Of course, I wasn't the ONLY one to walk out of Paranoia as a new Champion--Johnny Kingdom outlasted 5 other men...AND a now-indisposed Dan Douglas...to emerge from that big cage match as our new IWC Champion...

The crowd delivers a mixed reaction (mostly because of Johnny's past deeds), but cheers are currently drowning out boos for the man who triple-handedly dismantled The Conspiracy.

AE: ...And his FIRST official title defense as a now TWO-time IWC Champion happens to be...against YOURS TRULY...TONIGHT!

The crowd cheers very loudly at the prospect of Kingdom/Evermore III, this time for championship gold.

Comeau: That's right; apparently, Evermore exploited a specific clause in his infamous "$1 Contract" to GUARANTEE himself a World Title shot, and he cashed it in for right after Paranoia!

Moore: That's a pretty smart move, if you ask me!

Mark: Well, no one asked, but that was actually the most intelligent thing you've said all night so far! ...And probably WILL be, for the rest of the evening...

Axl: (continuing) And I'll get to that in a minute, because RIGHT NOW, I've reserved some time for some very SPECIAL business.

Comeau: He must be referring to that handled box next to him in the ring!

Axl milks the moment for all he can, letting the fans' reaction build up to a boiling point.

AE: Next to me is a box, as you can plainly see. Now...as I OPEN the box...

He opens the top of the box, and at the top is a long silver briefcase. He removes the metal case, and as he holds it up, we can see an exact duplicate of the case beneath it in the box. He holds up the case proudly.

AE: THIS case, and the 6 others exactly like it in this box, are holding the IWC's newest acquisitions for the 2009-2010 season.

Mark: Heyyyy...I remember something like this happening before!

Susie: Really? Because all I can remember right now is a REALLY wonderful dream involving me, the ThunderKats, and a bunch of catnip...

Axl: Now...I'm sure the suspense will be completely ruined after I open the FIRST case, so I'm going to make this as quick and painless as possible by showing you all the first acquisition...modeled ably by your very own 3-time Cartel Champion...!

He holds the mic under his arm as he opens the case, revealing...a shiny new championship belt. He grins from ear to ear as the crowd goes "OHHHH!!!!!" and he slings the belt over his shoulder. The center plate...reads "IWC Cartel Champion".

AE: IWC fans, may I not-so-humbly present to you, the BRAND-SPANKING-NEW championship belts for the Independent Wrestling Cartel, starting with MY brand new Cartel Championship. You see, before Paranoia, Sallie and Krissie contacted me and decided to turn the tables on Dan Douglas and his odd desire for belts from the Grays' old designer, Mike Mordrid himself. What you see over my shoulder is certainly a MUCH better look for a belt as AWESOME as the Cartel Title, isn't it?

The crowd cheers in agreement as he nods, still grinning.

AE: Now, without further ado, let me show you the REST of the new belts!

He takes out the next case, opening it and revealing the new No Holds Barred Title; then the new X-Class Title, which will be suspended from the ceiling later on with the old one for the big Paranoia rematch; then the new "Global Submission Crown" which Robin Brooks will be wearing later on. The crowd is oohing and aahing at each new belt, generally reacting favorably.

Comeau: Axl Evermore, absolutely BEAMING, is REALLY seeming to enjoy delivering these new title belts on the first RIOT! of the new season.

Moore: Well, who WOULDN'T enjoy having an expensive belt hand-delivered to them in a secure metal case? It's AWESOME, like the time I got a whole bunch of Hucci belts!

Mark: Uh...I think those are supposed to be GUCCI...

Evermore takes out the next 2 cases and opens them at the same time, revealing both belts of the new Global Tag-Team Crown at the same time, but he doesn't take out the last case, at the very bottom of the box.

AE: There you go, everybody--all the brand new IWC championship belts!

Mark: But...what about the new IWC World Championship? You haven't taken it out yet!

AE: (slaps his forehead) DUH! I haven't shown you the last belt yet! Well...not to worry, because THAT belt, the new IWC World Heavyweight Championship, will be unveiled to the fans and our viewers at the most fitting moment possible--the MAIN EVENT of tonight, when I face Johnny Kingdom for it.

He smiles, quite proud of himself, as he's interrupted by an irate voice.

Are you quite finished?

Evermore turns to the source of the voice, none other than the IWC Champion himself Johnny Kingdom, who appears on the Cartel-Tron to a huge reaction.

Johnny Kingdom: You know, for all the running your mouth's been doing over the past year, it must be growing legs by now that are dead tired! Do you really think the fans--or more importantly, do you think I, the IWC Champion, want to see you waste all this airspace with new belts?

AE: You know, I figured it was time for an UPDATE for the IWC. It's a fitting theme for the new season, you know--what's old is new again, and what's new is yesterday's news! ...Kinda like Johnny Kingdom, huh? Tell me something, J...

Kingdom: That's "Mr. Kingdom" to an arrogant peon like you.

AE: Whatev. Tell me, Johnny, how long is this title reign going to last before you decide to leave the fans, the locker room, and your employers in a Team Leader-less lurch again? Because if I have anything to say about it, it's going to be over TONIGHT, courtesy of Mr. N-Y-C himself!

The crowd cheers as Evermore smiles confidently at the scowling IWC Champion.

Johnny: Heh. Real cocky for a guy who still hasn't managed to beat me ANY of the 4 times we faced off. What are you gonna do next, use some more "Contract Perks" to keep getting title shots against me when--that's right, WHEN, not IF--you lose?

AE: Well Johnny, you didn't think I'd be unprepared for that possibility, did you? Haven't you heard of a sweet little universal concept called the "Champion's Challenge"?

Comeau: I must admit, it DOES sound familiar...!

JK: What are you yammering on about?

AE: It's a simple idea, but let me enlighten the fans and viewers. As long as I'M the Cartel Champion, and YOU'RE the World Champion--that is, IF I lose tonight of course--I have the right to challenge you to as many NON-title matches as I want...and vice versa. Hell, I can even get us booked in Tag Team matches together if I felt like it! *TSSCHHHH* If THEY felt like it, Sallie and Krissie can even book us in a TITLE match against The Infection! The possibilities are ENDLESS while BOTH of us hold belts, Johnny!

Surprisingly, the crowd is solidly behind the prospect of Evermore getting Kingdom in the ring more than once.

AE: The thing is, I still plan on walking out of the Manhattan Center tonight the way I came IN--carrying both the new Cartel Title AND the new IWC World Heavyweight Championship with me.

JK: You must be on some REALLY good stuff if you think that, Ever-bore; too bad the high's going to wear off when you watch ME getting my hand raised by that referee and I get TWO World Title belts handed to me, STILL the IWC Champion.

He smirks with a raised eyebrow as he holds up the classic IWC Title, and the Cartel-Tron irises out to black and cuts back to Evermore in the ring, eyes narrowed as he regards the champion Team Leader.

Mark: Well, it appears the Cartel Champion has a pretty uphill battle tonight in what he apparently regards as the first of MANY possible matches against the IWC Champion! We'll be--

Susie: Oooh oooh, can I throw it to the back this time? PLEEEEASE????

Mark: ...Oh all right, why not? Go ahead...but remember to sound overly dramatic.

Moore: Susie: We'll be back with more IWC RIOT! after we find out what’s going on backstage! YAAAAY, I did it!

CHAMPION’S PREROGATIVE

Jackson: MUSH, MUSH I SAY! Get the belt to the ring NOW!

The sourest of sour puss expressions resides on Jackson’s face. In fact he looks so sour that one would think he just drank an extremely bitter beer mixed with an highly potent lemon. Referee Fitzpatrick rushes past him holding the X-Class Title over his forearm while Jackson lungs the ladder along behind him.

Adams: I’m angry, I’m SO angry I could totally Hulk out right now.

An overly peeved Jackson progresses through the gorilla position on his way towards the ring, obviously not waiting any longer for his ladder bout.

Jackson: Max will just have to pay for Katelyn’s insolence!

The ladder scrapes across the concrete as Adams brings it along for what will be his biggest title match yet, and ironically, the very first one.

Moore: Look it’s Adams and…..awww, that’s not Ladder.

Comeau: How can you tell?

Susie: Let’s just say Ladder was more…..endowed.

Mark: Interesting. Jackson Adams on his way to the ring with a ladder in hand, I guess we don’t have to wait to see him clash with Craven for the X-Class Title.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Catch the replay on PPV

JACKSON ADAMS © VS. MAX CRAVEN

The show returns live with an image of the Cartel Title belt hanging above the ring and referee Fitzpatrick lingering beneath it.

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 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.

Mark: And the action just keeps on going here tonight as Max Craven sets to collide with Jackson Adams in a rematch for his X-Class Title. It was at Paranoia VI where Craven lost his belt in a triple threat match but here tonight he has a chance at redemption as he collides with Adams in a ladder match.

Moore: I’m so eager to see Ladder tonight. I hope it’s recovered from that devastating loss at Paranoia.

Comeau: Well Max looks to recover by not only beating, but decimating Adams in just a few short moments.

Max hunkers down, swaying from side to side in anticipation of his nemesis.

"Who's to know if your soul will fade at all,
The one you sold to fool the world.
You lost your self esteem along the way.
Yeah."

The lights dim as black lights illuminate the arena, Jackson Adams then steps out onto the ramp with major mixed reaction from the crowd. A ladder is held in both of his palms and a look of pure, unadulterated rage is present on his face.

"Good God, You're coming up with reasons.
Good God, You're dragging it out.
Good God, it's the changing of the seasons.
I feel so raped.
SO FOLLOW ME DOWN.

And just fake it, if you're out of direction.
Fake it, if you don't belong here.
Fake it, if you feel like infection .
Woah, You're such a fuckin' hypocrite"

Jackson storms towards the ring still holding the ladder and mumbling under his breath about the audacity of Katelyn Buehler.

Mark: Jackson still looking a tad out of it after what occurred moments ago, his mind obviously on Buehler when it should be on Craven and retaining his X-Class Title.

Susie: I think about Katelyn too. When the two of us get together we perform hopsocords on our ribcages.

Comeau: Adams furious over Buehler’s actions earlier tonight, driving him to start this ladder match right now, but will he live to regret doing so?

An invigorated Adams starts towards the ring with a ladder strewn across his sternum. That’s when Max pulls a shocker by dashing across the ring and diving over the top rope. He flips forward and nails a senton directly to the ladder, driving the rungs into the sternum of Adams. Both men collapse to the mats amongst a rousing reception from the fans.

Comeau: What a shocking way to commence this match!! Craven THROWING his body into the ladder.

Moore: That’s no way to treat Ladder’s cousin.

With his lower back already enflamed with pain Craven rolls to his feet and snatches up the ladder. He struggles to hold onto it before sliding the weapon under the ropes into the squared circle. He looks over his shoulder at Jackson who is already trying to get up, all the while hearing the over the top cheers from the crowd.

The moment Jackson’s on both feet, Craven springs onto the apron then flips over backwards into a moonsault. He comes crashing down right on top of Adams’ shoulder, knocking them simultaneously to the mats.

Mark: Max flying all around the ringside area, just taking it to Adams. He’s all fired up to get back that X-Class Title right here tonight.

Susie: When I want to get myself fired up, I just play some Queen.

Comeau: You listen to Queen?

Moore: Yeah, you know, the Dairy Queen theme.

Mark: I should have known.

Despite the pain he’s already in, Craven rises promptly to his feet and guides Adams by his hair to an upright base. A reeling Adams is now whipped towards the steel steps, Craven using every inch of the ringside area to his advantage. That’s when Jackson performs a shocking counter, reversing the whip and sending the challenger into the stairs. Max performs a cartwheel over the steps though, landing on the opposite side of the steel.

Jackson’s lower lip quivers in both astonishment and dismay just as Max rushes at the steps once more, lunging to the top stair and launching himself off. He flies at Adams who catches Craven and twists him around into a thunderous spinning powerslam.

Max is driven with incredible force spine first against the thin mats, resulting in quite the mixed response from the crowd.

Mark: Spinning powerslam PUNISHING Craven on the outside of the ring. All those high risk moves were bound to backfire eventually.

An aching Adams gets to his feet and reaches into the ring under the ropes. He grabs hold of the ladder, beginning to slide it out. He leaves half of it in the ring and the other half jutting over the outside mats. A very intense Adams steps over Craven’s legs, takes hold of them and then drops back, catapulting Max upward face first into the rungs of the ladder.

A groan emanates from the crowd as the Challenger tumbles to the mats, swiping his palms over his forehead. He looks all shaken up, just like a James Bond martini. After his skull almost imploded against the steel rungs, Craven is left incapacitated. Jackson slips into the squared circle and stares up at the X-Class Championship dangling from the hook above the ring.

With no hesitation he grabs the ladder, trying to pull it all the way into the ring so he can set it up, climb, and achieve glory. That’s when Max lunges to his feet and grabs the other end of the ladder, dragging down on it with all his strength. The exertion sends the top half flying upward into Jackson’s face, the steel rungs cracking against his face.

Comeau: Both of these men employing that ladder quite well as a weapon.

Susie: Why do these poor ladders always have to be the victim, the collateral damage caught in the middle. It’s not fair, it’s not FAIR. Oh great, I just lactated all over myself.

Craven lets go of the ladder, allowing it to lay straight across the ring, half still in the ring, half still outside of it. Although sluggish the Challenger rolls back into the ring, hoping to get the drop on a very dazed Adams. Jackson stumbles and staggers before spotting Max, prompting him to shake off the blows to his skull and come charging in. That’s when he rushes into the shoulder of Craven. Max stands up and back drops Jackson over the cables, causing him to twist around and crash face first off of the ladder extended above the outside mats.

Mark: Ohhh, another head first collision with the ladder. These two are not holding anything back in this rivalry ending grudge match.

Moore: I hope they’re not holding anything behind their backs, it irritates me to no end trying to guess which hand their hiding it in. Doesn’t matter how many guesses I make I never get it right.

His nose may be broken but Jackson starts to roll to his side, getting his knees beneath him. He reaches up and instinctively wraps his arms around the ladder, utilizing it to stand. That’s when Max comes rushing across the ring and delivering a baseball slide dropkick to Jackson’s sternum.

The blow knocks him to the mats, sending him rolling towards the stage in a highly disorientated condition. Instead of going for the X-Class Title, Max continues to dish out the punishment. He slowly stands and then goes rushing into the far end of the ring. He bounces off and comes storming towards Adams, preparing for a high flying, death defying dive. That’s when Jackson lunges to his feet, grabs the lower half of the ladder and swings it back into the ring.

As a result the ladder smacks against Max’s ankles, knocking his legs out from under him. He’s sent flying throat first into the middle rope, ending up laying against it.

Comeau: Nice move by Adams, what quick thinking from the X-Class Champion.

Susie: Wow, quick thinking? And here I thought slow thinking was difficult enough. Actually thinking at all just gives me a nose bleed.

Max continues to lean throat first over the middle rope while Jackson jumps to the apron at his side then quickly approaches a turnbuckle. He steps up it in reverse, ending up on the second cable before launching himself off. The crowd is shocked as Adams delivers a leg drop directly across the back of Max’s head.

Craven bounces from the cables and goes flying back. He hits the ring then rolls over in reverse, ending up on his elbows and his knees. The fans are quite stunned by all this athleticism displayed in what has been a frantically paced Ladder Match thus far.

Jackson could care less about the fans’ and their reaction, standing up and glaring at the belt high above. He slips through the ropes then approaches the ladder, scooping it up despite the pain in his body. Jackson finally gets the ladder set up under the title and begins to climb up to reach it.

Comeau: Jackson finally has the ladder positioned and he’s going for his gold.

An aching Adams climbs each rung anxiously, realizing that each one brings him closer to retaining his belt. He is only about half way up the ladder before Max staggers in behind him, delivering a hard clubbing blow to his kidney areas. A groan emanates from Adams as Max reaches up and grabs him by the waistband of his pants, pulling down on it. As a result Adams ends up falling over Craven’s shoulders into a vertibreaker predicament.

Mark: Ohh, here we go, Craven’s surprisingly getting Jackson into that vertibreaker.

Susie: Vertibreaker? Is that a type of posture-pedic bed or somethin?

Max steps across the ring preparing to drop Adams on the back of his skull before he slips free. Jackson lands on his feet behind Craven then takes him by the arms, spinning him around into a unprettier. Before he can connect, Max swings his body out of the predicament and reaches back, wrapping his arms around Jackson’s neck. He grinds his hips, setting up for his version of the Hangman neckbreaker.

He drops down, planting Adams’ skull across the canvas and causing him to pop up onto his seat in a very incoherent condition. Although this would normally be the time that Craven goes for the pinfall, he realizes it would be moot. He steps over Adams and approaches the ladder, taking it down out of its standing base. He stretches it across his chest and approaches the still seated Jackson.

A very confused Adams finds himself being sandwiched in between the ladder. Max actually opens it up and places Adams’ seated body inside of it, wedging him between both sides like he were the vanilla in an ice cream sandwich. Max now approaches the ropes, slips through them to the apron and then springs to the top rope. He flies off into a front dropkick that connects with the rungs, driving the ladder back into Adams’ ribs.

Jackson falls to his back, laying on top of the ladder while the other side of it is still stretched across his battered ribs. Its at this point that Max rushes forward and lunges into the air, coming down with a senton back splash across the ladder. A roar emanates from Adams and Craven, Max having suffered as much pain from that last move as he dished out.

Mark: Once again Craven is throwing aside his own well being, he knows that the belt is more important than the longevity of his career.

Moore: Longevity? I’ve seen his videos, Mark, I can assure you he has no problem with LONG-evity.

Comeau: Yeah, you just completely misinterpreted everything I just said. Why I’m shocked and disgusted by this is beyond me.

Once again Craven finds that his lower back is pulsating with pain, but he doesn’t care, instead he goes right back to regaining his title. He grabs the ladder, slips it out from around Jackson’s body and begins to set it up under the championship. Adams agonizes across the canvas while his opponent puts the ladder into position. He slaps the rungs and shakes it, making sure the structure is stable before he starts to climb.

Mark: Max may very well be on the verge of regaining the X-Class Title.

He inches up every rung at a snail like pace, his body feeling fatigued after the numerous bumps its already taken. He has no idea that Jackson has rolled to the outside of the ring and is reaching under the squared circle, finding an obscenely long ladder.

The ladder is slid into the ring while Max continues to inch his way to the belt. His fingers reach for the gold while Jackson snatches up the large painters ladder, charges at Max and drives the top edge of the steel into Craven’s kidneys. Max cries out in pain while Adams now wedges the top of the ladder between the rungs of the one Max is standing on. He lifts up on the other end, placing it over the top rope, forming a bridge of sorts.

Adams now starts jumps up and grabs his makeshift bridge, climbing up onto it and then stepping across the rings towards Max’s backside. Craven is already climbing again, reaching for the belt when he’s blasted to the kidneys with a clobbering blow. Jackson steps up after him, reaching out and wrapping his arm around the challenger’s neck. To the astonishment of everyone, Craven begins to fight back, delivering elbow after elbow to the temple of his opponent.

The blows cause Jackson to step back across the bridging ladder, swinging his arms to remain upright. That’s when Craven turns around and steps up a few rungs higher. He stabilizes himself then takes flight, soaring at Jackson for a hurricarana. Somehow Jackson is able to catch Max on his shoulders and hit a sit-out powerbomb onto the ladder.

Mark: OHHHH!

Moore: SCOTT SUMMERS!

Comeau: I don’t know you’re able to manage being a dorky dumbass, I thought people had to know how to read in order to enjoy comic books.

Susie: Nope, they just have to like flashy pictures.

Mark: Yeah, anyway what an UNBELIEVABLE counter we just saw with Adams actually catching Craven with a powerbomb on that ladder.

The bridging ladder bends a little but does not break due to this sickening landing. Craven is so ravaged with pain that he cannot even interpret his anguish. That’s when Adams stands up and inflicts even greater punishment, grabbing Craven’s legs, twisting him onto his stomach and applying the liontamer across the ladder.

Comeau: Now look at this! The things these two are doing to one another in this ladder match are simply amazing! I’ve never seen a liontamer across a bridging ladder like this. What ingenuity.

Moore: It’s as creative as a Where’s Waldo book.

Jackson leans back and stretches Craven’s spine as far as it will go without snapping. The Challenger is gritting his teeth through the trauma, realizing that there is absolutely no way that he can reach the ropes from this high unusual position.

The smirking X-Class Champion realizes this, quite amused as he brings Craven closer and closer to passing out from the pain, leaving nothing between himself and his belt save for some shinny rungs. His amusement is short lived and replaced with horror as Craven demonstrates his remarkable resilience, starting to fight his way out of the liontamer.

He twists his body, almost causing Jackson to spill off the side of the ladder bridge. As the Champion takes a moment to stabilize himself, Craven slips free and wedges his feet to Jackson’s bum. He shoves off with all of his strength, sending Adams rushing forward across the rungs and then spilling over the cables and crashing from great height to the outside of the ring.

Comeau: Now Adams tumbling off of the ladders and spilling with force across the mats. He may have broken his legs falling from that height.

Adams lands across his shins and knees on the outside mats before rolling to the edge of the ramp. He lays there looking practically spent after the viciousness of that landing, his chest heaving as he desperately tries to recover. Despite the overwhelming physical toll this bout is taking upon him, Jackson tries to get back to his feet. Craven is doing the same as he crawls agonizingly across the bridge to the upright ladder.

His hands wrap around the rungs while forcing his bruised body to his feet. Upon stabilizing himself and recovering from that powerbomb, he turns to eye Jackson on the outside of the ring. Adams is still having difficulty pulling himself together, unaware that Max is rushing across the bridge, stepping off the end and launching himself off.

He comes plummeting down from a tremendous height into a big splash that connects right against Jackson’s shoulder, bringing both men down to the mats. The fans are reacting quite as expected, on their feet unleashing the loudest reception their lungs can muster.

Mark: ANOTHER death defying lunge from Craven. Only in the IWC will you see such high risk on free TV.

Moore: This is so exhilarating, just like battery cables hooked to your nipples.

The Manhattan Center is alive with the sound of screaming, the fans slapping the barricades and stomping their feet in support for Craven. They are all swept up into this non-stop action they’ve been seeing from the very beginning of the show.

They have even more cause for celebration as Max sluggishly stands up and falls against the apron, his eyes switching to the X-Class title belt glistening high above.

Before he can once again be reunited with the belt, he glares at Adams, realizing that he is not yet incapacitated. Max approaches Adams, grabs him by the bangs of his hair and begins to unload on his face with jab after jab after jab. Now that Adams is down to his knees, Craven turns around and approaches the ring, climbing up onto the apron.

The moment he begins to slip through the ropes, Jackson steps up behind him and grabs the back of his tights. Craven is plucked off of the apron and sent flying back first forcefully into the outside mats. He smashes against them and then rolls to his elbows and knees, looking up in time to see Jackson already slipping back into the ring.

The Champion gets to his elbows when Craven reaches under the ropes, grabs him by the ankle and slides him back to the outside. Adams flies off of the apron and then crashes down face and chest first into the outside mats. He splats against them and then rolls to his back, looking greatly disorientated.

His never incontinent condition allows the challenger for his gold to slip into the squared circle and approach the standing ladder. He falls against the side of it, his palms wrapping around the lungs as he sluggishly begins to ascend towards the X-Class Championship.

Comeau: Max has taken down Adams, there may very well be nothing keeping him from regaining his belt at this point on what has ALREADY been a very explosive show.

Moore: If only Max had suction cups on his hands, like Garfield.

The belt sparkles, almost calling to him, motivating Max to keep moving even if he’s enflamed with pain. He climbs inch by inch towards the belt only to find himself grabbed from beneath. Jackson steps up behind him and grabs his ankles, pulling him down into a powerbomb predicament.

Craven finds himself seated on top of Jackson’s shoulders as he rushes forward intent on delivering yet another vicious powerbomb. To make matters worse for Craven, he’s about to be powerbombed over the ropes to the outside mats. Instead of letting himself become a paraplegic, Craven drops back over the ropes and nails a hurricarana. Adams is the one sent flipping over the ropes and crashing to the mats at this point.

Mark: Adams right out here in front of us and yet again laid out on the mats. This is your chance Max, this is your chance to grab the gold.

A huffing and wheezing Craven gets to his feet on the apron, grabs the top rope then lunges on top of it. He springs off, flies across the ring and lands on the mid-way point of the ladder. The crowd is rather shocked by his athleticism as Max begins to climb towards the sparkling beacon above.

Moore: Wow, Craven is just like Spider-Man, just without the blue leotards. His ass would probably look fat in them anyway.

The Manhattan Center fans are screaming at the apex of their excitement, finding themselves enthused at the concept of Craven winning back the X-Class Championship here tonight.

The belt is now within just a few feet, Craven bringing himself so very close to regaining his honor. That’s when Jackson steps in beside him and once grabs his ankle, trying to pull Max down off of the ladder. Unfortunately for Adams he’s shoved off and sent staggering backwards into the ropes. He spills through them to the apron but does not go crashing to the mats this time.

He rolls back into the ring under the ropes and quickly charges towards the ladder, this time stepping inside of it. He now reaches through the rungs, grabs Max by the back of the ankle and tugs on it. As a result Craven falls to his seat then falls back finding his leg wrapped around one of the rungs.

Comeau: Oh no, Craven is trapped, his leg is stuck around the ladder.

Moore: I imagine Max has got his foot stuck in a lot of things. As you know, there’s quite a fetish for foot porn lately.

Max hangs upside down from the ladder in a tree of woe almost, reaching up for his knee and desperately trying to free himself. He has no idea that Adams is running into the cables in front of him. He rolls out and approaches the time keeper, demanding she vacate her chair. Kailey clears out of the way, Jackson grabs the steel and rolls inside.

Mark: What's he doing with that chair?

Moore: Maybe he's setting up with the ladder, what a wonderful odd couple they'd make.

Max tries to sit up when the chair is suddenly swung right into his completely exposed knee. A roar of anguish emits from Craven, who falls back, reaching for what may be a shattered knee-cap. He grimaces and groans from the pain while Jackson steps around to the opposite side of the structure. He grabs the ladder forming a bridge and pulls himself up onto it. Carefully he manuevers across the rungs and up the ladder, Craven desperately trying to sit up. Unfortunately his knee is in too much pain, incapable of stopping Adams as he reaches up for the X-Class Title belt and rips it off of the hook.

Comeau: Ahhh dammit, Jackson retains the X-Class Title. He reached the belt after injuring Craven's leg!

The crowd heckles Adams like he were Adolf Hitler eating a puppy. He lifts the belt above his head and cackles at the expense of the fans and his opponent.

Mark: Adams victorious after somehow finding an underhanded means of making it to the top of that ladder. But if you think things are over between Craven and Adams, you thought wrong.

Moore: Thank God I didn't think at all.

Jackson continues to celebrate despite his exhaustion and crippling pain.

GROSS

Katelyn: I had absolutely nothing, NOTHING to do with what happened earlier, I just want to make sure I’ve said that….

Although she’s repeated that same comment at least fifty times she doesn’t shy away from saying it again. She insures above all else that Porno lad understands that she’s as innocent as Harrison Ford in Fugitive. Unfortunately he’s not exactly cognizant of her statements, still looking glassy eyed and slack jawed after the in ring assault.

Buehler: If I had known that Hurse or that icky Adams were going to attack you, I so would have done something about it. Like, like, ummmm, super glue their bums to the couch, or turn on Transformers and totally distract them. The point is I would have nipped their plans in the butt one way or another, because I can’t stand to see something horrible happen to you. I…..I…..I still lov….

Porno Lad: Oh GAWD, please don’t finish that sentence.

The second he regains full consciousness, Porno Lad pushes away and falls against a nearby wall, trying to get as far from Buehler as possible.

Katelyn: Good, your awake, that means there wasn’t any brain damage done. I always knew you had a hard head.

Porno Lad: Yeah, you learned that after I got all frisky from watching that Suzanne Summers thigh-master commercial.

Buehler: That wasn’t the head I was talking about, but yeah, we always had such good times together, didn’t we?

Katelyn cannot resist from extending her hands to get hold of his abs. She is denied such an honor by Porno Lad, who is nowhere near as frisky as his ex.

Porno: Uhhh, no.

She drops her arms to her sides and stomps her foot like a fat child deprived of a cookie.

Katelyn: But why?

Porno Lad: Oh let’s see, because you’re a skank.

Buehler: You don’t mean that.

Porno Lad: Yes I do.

Katelyn: No you don’t, you know there’s still a connection between us.

Porno Lad: No there isn’t.

Buehler: Uh-huh.

Porno Lad: I don’t date skanks, and I sure as hell don’t date LOSERS.

The statement almost sends a lava flow of emotion pouring out of Buehler, threatening to blow her top.

Katelyn: I’m NOT a loser.

Porno Lad: Could’a fooled me.

Buehler: Why won’t you just take me back? I know all this stuff with Hurse has you steaming with jealousy. So put an end to it, show that you love me.

Her puckered lips are anything but appealing to the N.H.B Champion, who looks quite repulsed.

Porno Lad: Are you really that dense? Has Hurse’s stupidity rubbed off on you? I DON’T love you, never did, never will. For fuck sakes you screwed my father!

Katelyn: So?

Porno Lad: So? SO!?! I don’t even know how to respond to that.

Buehler: Then don’t, just kiss me.

As she tries to force her way into a kiss, Porno Lad employs his tired muscles to hold her at bay.

Porno Lad: Stop. Stop it! Rape! RAAAAAAAAAAPPPEEE!!

His palm actually presses against Buehler’s cheek, keeping her back. This doesn’t stop her lips from puckering and her from attempting to force a romantic embrace.

Porno Lad: Why don’t you just accept it?

Katelyn: Accept what?

Porno Lad: I’m NEVER gonna take you back.

Buehler: Your just confused right now. Kissing me will make you feel better.

Porno Lad: It’ll make me RALPH inside of my mouth.

Katelyn: Why?

Porno Lad has no inhibitions concerning his response.

Porno Lad: Because you’re gross. Even touching you right now makes me want to bathe in battery acid.

Finally she gives up on trying to force the kiss. Buehler steps back with a lowered head, realizing that there may be a grain of truth to Porno Lad’s insults.

Porno Lad: So why don’t you go running back to your loser husband, and leave a winner (motions to self) to enjoy his spotlight. Oh, and um, yeah, thanks for the save.

At that Porno Lad cautiously backs away, palms outstretched just incase Buehler lunges at him once again and looses all control of her hormones. Instead of acting like a sexaholic just released from rehab, Katelyn remains surprisingly calm, if not depressed. Perhaps its finally dawned on her, once and for all, that the relationship is over. A malicious cackle jars her from her dread and causes her to turn towards an eavesdropping Robin Brooks.

The Black Widow stands in the doorway to a restroom, propped shoulder first against the wall. She shakes her head and crosses her arms, her Submission gold draped over a wrist.

Robin: Wow, pathetic much?

In a carefree fashion Brooks steps towards a demoralized Buehler.

Brooks: How does it feel to be loved by NO ONE! And how does it feel knowing you’ve spent so much time with that idiot Hurse and have NOTHING to show for it.

Robin finds herself quite amused at Katelyn’s despair.

Robin: But I guess your whole life has been kind of a waste, hasn’t it? So your probably used to it by now.

The smug grin on Robin’s face is removed with a well placed slap to the cheek. The Black Widow finds herself stunned by the blow as Katelyn storms off. The Submission Champion cannot believe the audacity of Buehler as she rubs her wounded face.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

A roulette table slowly spins, a ball bouncing from one number to another.

Risking It All

The commercial briefly flashes to Christian Savior nailing a spear to the ribs of Johnny Kingdom.

Five cards hit a green table, forming a full house.

Winning it Big

Nathan Creed briefly consumes the screen with blood streaming down his face and his thumb intensely sliding across his throat.

Red dice roll across the table, landing on snake eyes.

There is no Risk

A maniacal Black Cat is now shown, soaring through the air with a 450 splash.

There is no Reward

A slot machine is shown dispensing a number of coins.

Until You Up The Ante

Robin Brooks nails a superkick, Psycho powerbombs an opponent through a table, Pat Evans rips at the throat of an opponent with the Time to Go to Sleep. All these images are briefly shown before one final message consumes the screen.

IWC: Upping the Ante
Live from the Hard Rock Café in Las Vegas

SEAN JOHNSON VS. KATELYN BUEHLER
X-CLASS TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP

Hollywood Whore by Papa Roach hits and Katelyn Buehler steps out with her head lowered. She steps somberly down the ramp, her face hidden by the bangs of her face.

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

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

Katelyn shakes off the hateful words of the song that was selected for her obviously by Porno Lad. She walks to the ring, hops to the apron and slips through the ropes. As she steps into a turnbuckle she falls against it despondently.

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

Mark: Katelyn Buehler out here for her X-Class #1 Contenders match, and she doesn’t look as bubbly and upbeat as usual.

Moore: Oh no, I hope she didn’t eat something. That would be cause for depression.

Mark: I think it has more to do with the conversation that she just had with Porno Lad before the break.

Susie: Conversation?

Comeau: They literally just showed it, it was on the big screen like seconds ago.

Moore: (Silence)

Mark: Why do I even bother? Anyway, Katelyn gets a shot at revenge against X-Class Champion Jackson Adams should she be victorious in this bout.

As Katelyn lingers depressingly in the corner the familiar lyrics of The Griffin’s entrance tunes filter through the loud speakers. Images of Sean Johnson consume the screen, hitting a number of powerful moves mixed with some extreme dare devilry. The crowd doesn’t wait very long to rest their eyes on the real and authentic Johnson, who emerges to the stage amongst a loud uproar. He hops in place and points out over the crowd who is chanting his name. Finally he starts towards the squared circle, prepared to once again pursue title gold.

Mark: “The Griffin” Sean Johnson made a shocking return at Paranoia VI as part of the Cartel Title Rumble but fell just short of adding gold to his waist. Now he gets a second chance of sorts as he competes for the X-Class Title Number One Contendership.

Moore: Wait? He gets a number one contenders match just because he had an impressive showing in the Rumble? What about me? I shook my ass and everything in that match, I should get a title shot too.

Comeau: Well I think Johnson did a little more than shaking his ass in that match Susie, and if he did I’m sure we’d be slapped with a number of lawsuits.

Buehler stares across at Johnson, looking highly emotional and very unstable. Before the bell can even sound, Katelyn charges across the ring at Sean and lunges into the air. She seems to be going for a big splash only to have Sean side step her. As a result Katelyn crashes sternum first into the turnbuckle, bouncing off and staggering backwards into Johnson’s arms.

He pulls her down into a back slide, going for a quick pin.

1

Katelyn surprises everyone by showing that she knows how to kick out. She drops over to her knees, lunges to her feet and charges forward only to have Sean lunge from his knees, slip around her hip and pull her down into a school boy.

1

2

Once again Buehler scrambles to get her shoulder off of the canvas and rush to her feet. She reaches a standing base and then goes charging into the cables behind a kneeling Griffin.

The frantic Katelyn grabs the back of Sean’s head, going for a one handed bulldog. Before she can connect Johnson reaches out, wraps his arms around her waist and drops back. He rolls her up into reverse, Katelyn finding herself folded by like an accordion with Sean seated across the back of her thighs.

1

2

Katelyn kicks out, launching Sean forward only to have him cartwheel across the canvas and land on his feet. He now hops up and down, looking anxious to deliver the next move.

Comeau: Sean catching Buehler with pinning predicaments from every angle. He really wants his return to be big by becoming number one contender for that X-Class title in only his second match.

Moore: If he really wants his return to be big, there should be dancing midgets. Dancing midgets make everything more exciting.

Katelyn rises to her feet when Sean steps in and delivers a swift kick to her ribs. A stunned Buehler is doubled over as Johnson hooks both her arms, setting up for the Extreme Pedigree.

Just before he can deliver the move, Buehler falls to her knees from exhaustion. She immediately grabs the ankles of her opponent, Sean repeatedly trying to pull her back up into position for the pedigree. He wraps his arms around her waist and then lifts her up into the air, unaware that Katelyn is gripping the back of his ankles. As a result Sean actually trips HIMSELF up, tumbling over backwards with Katelyn accidentally flipping on top of him into a jackknife cover.

1

2

Johnson kicks out, knocking Katelyn off of him and sending her rolling across the canvas towards the ropes.

Comeau: Katelyn almost caught Johnson with that pin, even though it wasn’t what she was going for in the first place. I love how Buehler just LUCKS her way into these big moves.

Moore: Luck has nothing to do with it. It’s raw talent, Mark. Any woman with breasts that large has to have LOTS of talent.

Katelyn is still steaming from the altercation she had with Brooks and Porno Lad before the break, prompting her to descend upon Johnson with a head of steam. Slaps connect with both of Sean’s cheeks, Katelyn absolutely unloading on him. Now that she has him dazed Buehler goes charging into the ropes once more, getting a running start for a big slap.

Unfortunately for Katelyn she rushes right into the shoulder of Sean who quickly drops back into a bridging Northern Lights Suplex.

1

2

Buehler surprisingly kicks out, keeping her X-Class title hopes alive.

Although she may regret having kicked out, because Johnson grabs her by the wrist, swings around and drops down into a cross arm breaker. He wraps his legs tightly around her bicep and wrenches on it as violently as possible, until the point that the bones are almost fractured.

Comeau: Cross arm breaker by Johnson, now using the technical approach to force a quick submission since his pinfalls didn’t work.

Sean looks quite intense, really tearing and ripping at the bicep and forearm of his opposition. There looks to be no escape for Katelyn, as she’s unable to drag her own weight, let alone the weight of Johnson, towards the ropes. Referee Princeton stoops over her, checking on Buehler’s condition, making sure she isn’t ready to submit. That’s when she follows the trend she’s set in her previous matches by grabbing hold of the ref, trying to use him to save herself.

Unfortunately for both Buehler and the ref, this time Katelyn’s hand grabs hold of Princeton’s crotch, squeezing it tightly. The referee hobbles between feet, squealing from the anguish of the crotch claw. He screams at Katelyn to let go but she won’t.

Mark: Yikes, I bet many a men have been on the receiving end of Buehler’s crotch claw but now it’s referee Princeton’s turn.

Moore: Wow, that looks effective. I should practice that move. Come here, Mark.

Comeau: I have a rape whistle, Susie.

Princton starts screaming the words “I Quit” in a high pitched tone, confusing Johnson. Sean breaks the hold having thought that Katelyn was the one screaming the two magic syllables. As he rolls to his feet and turns to spot Princeton’s testies in Katelyn’s grip he realizes that he’s made a grave error and promptly charges back at his opponent.

That’s when Buehler breaks the hold on the official then grabs Johnson by his family jewels, squeezing the blood, and everything else, right out of them.

Comeau: Crotch claw on Johnson!

Sean cuts loose with a long, almost girlish squeal, doubling over from the pain his nutsack. Official Princeton can barely move but starts a five count nevertheless, about to disqualify Buehler for her highly illegal maneuver. He almost reaches five before Katelyn releases Sean’s private “no, no” region then stands up and takes him around the neck.

Katelyn: HIIIIIYYYYYAAAA!!

Before Johnson can counter he’s snapmared over onto his bum, where he sits for several moments. Buehler now slaps the back of his head with both palms then jumps into the air and almost botches a dropkick. One of her boots barely connects to the back of Sean’s skull, causing him to groan and writhe across the canvas.

Sean rolls to his knees, still rubbing the bump on the back of his skull while Katelyn rushes into a nearby turnbuckle. She hops to the second one then comes flying off the second that Sean gets to his feet. A crossbody connects, taking both competitors down to the canvas with Katelyn landing on top. It hurts Princeton but he drops to the canvas and with one hand slaps the canvas while the other holds his swollen testicles.

1

2

Johnson actually presses Buehler off of him, sending her flying up into the air but ultimately landing on her feet. She charges at the ropes and slips through them to the outside before starting up a nearby turnbuckle.

The fans find themselves eagerly anticipating yet another crossbody block. She reaches the top rope with Sean struggling to stand up beneath her then dives through the air. Johnson just turns his back on Katelyn and arrogantly steps out of the way, causing her to crash down ribs and chest first into the canvas.

Mark: Ah, hahaha, Johnson stepped out of the way and Buehler connected with nothing but canvas.

Susie: How can you find Katelyn’s suffrage amusing? Have you no heart? I bet you don’t, I bet your just some android programmed to spout off a thousand useless wrestling facts.

Katelyn holds her damaged ribs, struggling to reach her feet while Johnson does a Hogan-esque cupping of the ear to better hear the reaction from his fans. Their response intensifies as Sean now steps towards Buehler, drops to her back and delivers an uppercut straight to the jaw of his stooped over opponent.

The blow sends the beauty staggering backwards across the ring and bouncing off of the ropes. She ricochets off towards Sean who stands and catches her with a twisting spinebuster. Buehler is driven viciously back first against the canvas before Sean hooks both of her legs this time for the pinfall.

1

2

To the amazement of just about everyone in the Manhattan Center, Johnson especially, Katelyn kicks out.

Mark: Katelyn kicking out again, she’s desperate to prove she’s no loser. But is she trying to prove to Porno Lad, Robin Brooks, or herself?

Johnson rises to his feet, gets a running start then lunges into the air, coming down knee first into Buehler’s lovely face. She sits up on the canvas after the impact, palming her features from the pain. That’s when Sean lunges to a standing base, bounces off of the ropes and comes back in at the seated Katelyn, delivering a well placed boot directly to her face.

The moment she’s down Sean spins towards his screaming fans.

Sean: I can keep this up all night long.

He slaps his sternum a few times and then descends on an aching Katelyn. As she tries to get up Johnson boots to her to the ribs then takes hold of her wrist, whipping her off into the cables. He turns and sets for another spinebuster only for his plan to backfire. Buehler stops just short of Sean and then boots him to the chest.

The blow causes Johnson to stand up straight, swinging his arms to remain upright before Katelyn goes for a lariat. He ducks the inbound blow and charges into the cables behind her. He bounces off and comes back in at Katelyn who lunges into the air and connects with the Lou Thez Press.

Sean tumbles to his back with Katelyn on top, already unloading with right hand after right hand to his face.

Comeau: Lou Thez Press from Buehler has got Sean down!

Moore: Why is this move called that?

Mark: It’s named after the man who first started using it.

Susie: Weird, so the guy’s name was Lou Thez Press? Press is an awfully bizarre last name. And what your telling me is that all I have to do is come up with a move and it’ll be named after me?

Susie: Um, sure.

Moore: WICKED.

Katelyn continues to unload on Johnson with jab after jab, getting him all discombobulated. Finally she stands up and bounces off the far ropes, coming back in at Johnson then lunging into the air. She comes down with a big splash onto Sean and then hooks his leg for the pin.

1

The Griffin launches a shoulder from the canvas, avoiding defeat. He rolls to his side in the process while Katelyn steps in and takes him around the neck, leading him up to his feet.

Katelyn: HIII…OOOOHHH!

Sean pulls out of the snapmare position ad clobbers Katelyn over the back with a forearm. She is doubled over by the blow as Johnson wedges a shoulder to her spine and hoists her up into a back drop position. Surprisingly Katelyn twists around her body and connects with a crossbody counter. Sean falls to the canvas hard across his back while Buehler rolls to her feet, looking more and more aggressive.

Comeau: Buehler actually *gasp” countered Johnson.

Moore: What if I create a move where I take an opponent around the neck and flip them over.

Mark: That’s called a snapmare, Susie, and Katelyn does literally dozens of them in a match.

Susie: Rats.

Buehler now moves in and begins to hit forearm after forearm into the face of a kneeling Johnson before charging off into the ropes behind him. She bounces off and comes rushing up behind him, going for that one handed bulldog yet again. Shockingly she rushes right into a spinning powerslam from her ever so crafty opponent. All the air is driven out of her lungs and her back is almost snapped by the impact.

Johnson ends up on top of his wailing victim and hooks her leg as quickly as possible, hoping to catch her stunned.

1

2

To the disbelief of the masses, Buehler AGAIN kicks out, launching her shoulder from the canvas with only mere seconds to spare.

A flabbergasted Johnson gets to his feet and swipes his arms through the air, signifying that the end is indeed here. He takes Buehler by her bangs, rolls her to a kneeling base and again thrusts her head under his seat. Unfortunately he forgot the lingering pain resulting from the crotch claw. The moment the back of her head touches his soar scrotum he cries out in pain, and drops Buehler to a kneeling base across the canvas. He now falls against the ropes, doubling over and wincing from the anguish in his genital region.

He pushes past the pain though and moves back towards a kneeling Buehler, descending on his wounded prey. He takes Buehler by the hair and forces her up to her feet. Instead of going for the pedigree he now hoists her up onto his shoulder, going for a running powerslam.

He charges across the ring but is unaware that Buehler has got her foot snagged over the top rope, allowing her to slip free. She lands on her feet with Johnson charging forward still unaware that his victim has eluded his grasp. He turns back around when Katelyn steps in and is taken around the neck, Buehler going for yet another, that’s right, SNAPMARE.

This time Johnson shoves her off, causing Buehler to charge forward into the cables, bounce off and come back right into the clutches of her opponent. Sean catches her with a tilt a whirl before she ends up on Johnson’s shoulder, Sean charging across the ring into a big running powerslam.

Comeau: Johnson with a big slam on Buehler. He looks to be on the verge of obtaining victory, and obtaining an X-Class title shot.

Moore: What about a move where I wrap my arms around someone’s head…..

Mark: That’s a side headlock Susie, and it’s used by literally everyone since the dawn of wrestling.

Susie: DAMMIT.

Instead of going for a pin, although victory is all but assured, Johnson rolls to his feet and prepares to unleash the dreaded Titanic Kick.

Comeau: Here comes Johnson’s brutal superkick variation. If he nails this he’ll become number one contender for sure!

Johnson continues to anticipate Buehler’s ascension, grinding his heel against the canvas as he waits. The fans are building with anticipation, realizing that Sean is moments away from securing a big win and going on to challenge for the title.

Buehler is non the wiser to her predicament. She just keeps on rising to her feet before turning into sheer disaster. Johnson moves in to remove her head from her shoulders with the kick only to be thwarted by an outside influence. Robin Brooks slips into the ring and spears Katelyn to the ribs before the superkick had a chance to connect.

Comeau: It’s ROBIN! She’s avenging that slap she took backstage just a few moments ago.

Moore: They should settle this like all women settle their disputes in the WWE, with a pillow fight.

Robin is on top of Katelyn, reigning down fist after fist to her face while Johnson stands back watching in shock. Before he can question Brooks’ motives the disturbing sound of the bell ringing hits his ears and distracts him from the beat down. A frantic Johnson turns towards referee Princeton who explains that he’s being disqualified due to Robin’s outside interference.

Mark: Wait, WHAT!?! Johnson is being disqualified thanks to the interference of Robin Brooks. This has got to be unsettling for Sean, who was seemingly on the cusp of a big win.

The crowd responds with dejection, fuming over the manner in which this match has ended. Johnson pleads with the referee to reconsider, rolling out of the ring and bickering with him as well as announcer Kailey Worf. Inside of the ring Buehler is still suffering from a barrage of right hands from a vindictive Brooks. Finally she’s able to squirm out of Robin’s grasp and out of the ring as well.

Comeau: Buehler escaping Robin, who looks dead-set on brutalizing the Hollywood Whore.

Moore: What if I create a move where I chokeslam some one but drop to my knees while….

Mark: The Showstopper.

Susie: ARGH!

The hostility and tension between Brooks and Buehler is palpable, thick enough to be cut with a knife. A very despondent Buehler has no idea that thanks to Robin she’s now the number one contender for the X-Class Title. Her head continues to hang solemnly as she backs up the ramp, leaving a furious Robin behind. Steam almost spouts from Robin’s ears, her grasp on the top rope tightening.

To make matters far more awkward now Hurse appears on the stage behind Buehler. She turns around and makes eye contact with her husband, the two exchanging a long stare. Finally the sympathetic Hurse thrusts his arms out to his side and Buehler sheepishly steps into his hug. He wraps his arms around her as Katelyn cuts loose with emotion, almost sobbing into his chest.

Comeau: Hurse coming out to console Katelyn surprisingly, even after she tried to run off with Porno Lad.

Moore: They’re such a cute couple, just like Freddy Kruger and Jason Voorhees.

Robin has even more reason to stew with anger in the ring, watching this whole debacle unfold before her very eyes. Despite his best efforts, Hurse cannot conceal his smile, a grin directed towards the Black Widow.

WHY CAN’T WE BE FRIENDS?

The stoic face of Pat Evans comes into view.

He props his chin against his chained fist, his elbow dug into his knee. Although he would enjoy nothing more than to sit in solitude, surrounded by the hollowed out office of Dan Douglas, he doesn’t get his wish.

Wheeler: Although you may not see it now, eventually you’ll realize that my actions were intended to BENEFIT the Conspiracy, not to mention the whole federation.

As Jason drones on and on, trying to curry Evans’ favor, Pat slips deeper and deeper into a depression.

Jason: Just think, I know it hurts, but try. Christian has been out of control, his ego is ruining amok. His greed and avarice caused him to loose focus, caused him to abandon the original goals of the Conspiracy. What I did at Paranoia was intended to give him a reality check. To put his whole world into perspective.

Evans: Yeah, and you ended up costing the Conspiracy the World Championship. Save your breathe.

Wheeler sighs and attempts to keep his own ego in check.

Wheeler: Listen Pat, I know we’ve never seen eye to eye….

Pat: I think that may be the biggest understatement ever. I mean, I literally set your face on fire once.

Jason: Exactly!

Evans: I’m not getting your point.

Wheeler: My POINT iiiiisss that despite everything we’ve put each other through, we’ve always had respect for one another.

Pat: Really?

Wheeler: Yeah. I always appreciated you as a competitor and knew that you had the talents to be a future World Champion.

Evans: Go on.

Although Evans feels dirty hearing such compliments come from the two faced Wheeler, he is never opposed to a bit of ego stroking.

Jason: But Christian, come on, he did everything possible to keep you from reaching your full potential. He wouldn’t even agree to face you at Paranoia VI for the World Championship, or me for that matter. In fact, he wanted to have the night off. Instead of REPAYING us for our services, for keeping that gold around his waist all this time, he wanted to keep us back and maintain a strangle hold on the championship. Does that remind you of anybody? A certain Johnny Kingdom maybe.

Pat: HA!

Wheeler is freaked at the sound of Pat laughing, having never seen Evans crack a smile let alone chuckle.

Pat: Are you forgetting that YOU caused Johnny to be champion?

Wheeler: That wasn’t my intention, all I wanted to do when I locked Savior in the cage was take a stand, for both of us. And you see what I’ve caused right? Now we’re BOTH in World Title competition. If I hadn’t cost Savior the belt, this number one contenders match wouldn’t even be happening. But I digress.

His fast talking clearly does not bewitch the technical tyrant.

Jason: I wanted to show Christian that he couldn’t get away with shafting us over and over again. Just like he did in Steel Cage Elimination when he eliminated ME! Come on, Pat, you know I was well within my right to get some payback. If Savior had speared YOU and cost YOU a World Title opportunity, you would have reacted the same way.

Evans: Not if it handed Kingdom the World Championship and meant the downfall of the Conspiracy.

Wheeler: That’s B.S and you know it. Besides, the Conspiracy isn’t finished. It can live on through us. We can even make it better, more powerful, greater than Douglas ever thought imaginable. And the best part is there would be NO Christian Savior to keep us under his thumb and from rising to the top. We would truly be equals.

Pat: Uh-huh?

Jason: Yeah, YEAH, our Conspiracy would always be on the same page, because we wouldn’t let our egos hold one another back simply because we feared competition. It would be so much greater than the Savior, Douglas regime. So what do you say?

Evans: Let me get this straight. You want me to simply forgive you for betraying the Conspiracy at Paranoia VI?

Wheeler: Kinda. But Pat, you have to admit, my betrayal has actually made the Conspiracy stronger, because now we can be equals, and we can BOTH pursue the World Title instead of one man always being the focal point of the group.

Pat: I wasn’t finished…

Evans slams his chain wrapped fist into his other palm, causing Wheeler to bite his tongue.

Pat: I guess your thinking that if we continue to team together, you’ll have my back, but more importantly, I’ll have your back.

Jason: Yeah.

Evans: So basically, the only benefit of the two of us teaming, would be that I’m always there to make sure no harm comes to you, from the likes of Riggs, Savior, or Creed?

Wheeler: You got it.

Pat: Oh, I see now. You pretty much just want me to be your bodyguard then.

Jason again bites his tongue, this time for an entirely different reason.

Jason: Well obviously that’s not the only reas…

Evans: Listen Jason…

The ever so threatening Evans rises to his feet.

Pat: I’m tired of being treated as the hired muscle, of constantly being there to prop others up.

Wheeler: That’s not why I’m extending the olive branch…..

Pat: I’m not gonna be the Diesel to your Shawn Michaels. I’m no goon and I resent the implication that I am one. So you can stick your olive branch straight up your….

Jason: Whoa, whoa, WHOA!

Before the derogatory statement can be finished and fists have a chance to replace words, Wheeler tries to nip the escalating tension in the bud.

Jason: How about I show you that I’m not like Savior, that I just don’t want you around to be my “Diesel” as you put it.

Evans: And how are you going to do that?

Wheeler: Why don’t you wait till later tonight to find out? But I promise you that I’ll show we can be equals, and that the Conspiracy is so much better off without Savior.

Although Evans would like nothing more than to bash his brains in, he is again deprived of his dream. Wheeler makes great haste as he departs the dressing room, leaving Evans behind to contemplate Jason’s proposal.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

The Greatest Match of All Times!

BROKEN

Blood flows over the striped shirt of referee Fitzpatrick. His slumping body is propped against the wall, eyes completely glazed over. They are the only white part of his face still visible beneath the mask of crimson.

Mark: What the dickens? That’s Referee Fitzpatrick. What happened to him?

Moore: Maybe he was getting freaky with someone and didn’t know it was their time of the month.

Comeau: He’s been completely bludgeoned backstage. I hope that camera-man filming this has called for some help. Who did this to Fitzpatrick?

The almost lifeless referee continues to sit up just barely, his wavy locks submerged in his own blood.

DAVID FREAK VS. PSYCHO
TABLES ARE LEGAL

Before the mystery surrounding the attack on referee Fitzpatrick can continue to intrigue, “Soldier Side” hits the PA system and the crowd responds with a plethora of various reactions. To the stage storms Psycho, one of the most feared veterans on the entire IWC landscape. Oddly the word “N’Evermore” is written in paint across his chest, perhaps serving as some type of symbolic threat.

Comeau: I hope Referee Fitzpatrick is getting medical help backstage, and I actually find it a tad difficult to continue on here without knowing the extent of his injuries, or who was responsible for them.

Moore: Well I continue on every week without getting a snow cone, so your just going to have to grit your way through it too.

Mark: I’ll try to get my head back into this Tables Are Legal Match.

Psycho passes numerous tables slanted against the barricades and actually set up at ringside. He steps around one of the tables, slapping it with a sickening grin on his face. He now slides into the ring and hops to his feet before sulking in a corner.

Mark: At least Psycho looks ready. He wants this issue between himself and the Freaks to be over and done with, and that’s exactly what’s going to happen after Tables Are Legal. I shutter to think of what he and David Freak are going to do to each other in this no holds barred environment.

Moore: I shutter whenever I hear Gilbert Godfried’s voice.

Comeau: Doesn’t everyone? I’m also concerned though about the message written on Psycho’s chest. Is that some type of warning to newly crowned Cartel Champion, Axl Evermore?

Psycho continues to lean in a corner, his chest exposed for everyone in the Manhattan Center to see his ominous threat to Axl. “Spirit of the Underdog” intrudes on Psycho’s disturbing thoughts, his attention diverting to the stage where David Freak and Aurora Rose-Freak now stand. The two seem to be talking amongst themselves, David motioning to the tables repeatedly and implying that he shouldn’t be subjected to this type of violence. Aurora gives him her best wishes and finally David starts towards the ring.

Comeau: On a night that could very well go down as the most Hardcore in IWC history, David Freak will clash with Psycho to end a feud that has lasted for months. This all started because David meddled in Psycho’s business and it led to the attack on Psycho’s former partner, Riggs.

Moore: That’s exactly why I don’t meddle when my guinea pigs are fighting, I just let one of them eat the other one and stay clear of the whole sordid situation.

Mark: Yeah, I can really see how that applies to this situation, Susie. The issues between these two have only escalated as of late but it all comes to an end one way or another in this sure to be gruesome…..WHOA!

Freak has his head turned towards Aurora on the stage, continuing to ask her advice before he’s booted to the ribs. David is doubled over from the unexpected shot from Psycho who immediately pulls Freak’s under his seat then lifts him up into the air.

David ends up on Psycho’s shoulders with no time to counter before he’s powerbombed through a table set up at the end of the ramp. His body crashes through the wood and results in loud screams from a stunned audience.

Comeau: Ohhh, David right through the table right from the get go.

Moore: Hopefully they save a table for me to do my Tea Party segment again.

Freak’s eyes are almost shooting from his skull thanks to the pain of being sent through the wood. Unfortunately for him, it’s only a small taste of the anguish he’s in store for. Psycho briefly turns towards Aurora who backs up the ramp with her palms held out defensively.

He now sinks his hand into David’s hair and pulls him out of the broken fragments of table. The wounded Freak has no means of defending himself as he rolled into the ring and under the ropes. The Sadistic One slides in quickly as David crawls into a corner, sitting up against it.

That’s when Psycho begins to unload stomp after stomp after stomp to his chest. The kicks connect forcefully over and over again, causing David to slide further and further down the turnbuckle.

Mark: And now Psycho is just putting the boots to Freak. A win for Psycho may be academic already.

Finally Psycho stops stomping and just puts his boot to David’s throat. He grabs the top rope with both hands and leans boot first into the jugular of his rival. David gasps for air as official Princeton desperately tries to get him to stop, but there’s nothing he can do consider everything is legal in this environment.

As soon as Freak’s face turns blood, Psycho pulls his boot away then goes charging into the far cables. He bounces off and comes rushing towards his victim, delivering a huge face wash. His boot almost cracks David open as Freak leans against the ropes for support, eyes entirely glazed over.

Aurora is pleading with him to get up before Psycho rushes into the far cables, bounces off and comes back in with yet another brutal face wash.

Comeau: Dear God, ANOTHER face wash by Psycho. He’s not content with a win tonight, he wants to DISFIGURE Freak.

Moore: Aww, and David’s already not very handsome to begin with.

Psycho now rolls to the outside of the ring and drags a table away from the barricade. He begins to set it up while Freak uses this rare opportunity to begin dragging himself up with the aid of the ropes. Psycho’s bloodlust is unquenchable however, prompting him to roll right back into the ring, step towards David and deliver a vicious haymaker right to the kidneys.

David yells out in pain as he falls against the turnbuckle, Psycho delivering straight right hands to the ribs and pelvis area, intent on shattering something.

Mark: I think Freak is going to be coughing up blood after this match.

Moore: It’s better to cough up blood than…..ummm, am I allowed to talk about fellacio on television?

Comeau: Only if you want standards and practices even further up our assholes.

Each punch is agonizing for David, his internal organs taking quite a pounding at the hands of his barbaric rival. Psycho ends the onslaught with a stiff right to Freak’s jaw, bringing him to his seat once again. Psycho now rolls out of the ring and fetches another table. He lifts it up into the air and actually places it on top of the table he already set up earlier.

He then steps around the ring and grabs one of the camera-men, ripping the electrical cord out of the back of their camera. The brute rolls into the ring and approaches Freak, who instinctively crawled out of the corner to the center of the ring. That’s when Psycho wraps the cable around his throat and pulls back, choking the life out of his aching body.

Mark: Now Psycho is STRANGLING him!

Moore: Some guys actually enjoy that. Just ask David Carradine.

Comeau: Too soon Susie, way too soon.

David gasps for each precious breath before Psycho takes the cord away and punches him right to the back of the head. Aurora watches in horror as Psycho steps over David’s cranium and then hoists him up into a crucifix powerbomb predicament.

Comeau: Oh no, oh no.

Moore: Spaghettioes!

Psycho growls as he holds David’s fate literally in the palms of his hands. He rushes across the ring, about to throw Freak over the ropes through the stacked tables. Somehow at the last conceivable second Freak slips free and lands on his feet behind Psycho.

The Sadistic One spins around right into a thrust kick under the jaw. The blow has him staggered before David rushes into the cables, bounces off and comes back in with a brutal clothesline from hell. The strike is enough to take Psycho down to his back with Freak crawling into the cover.

1

2

Psycho forces his shoulder from the ring then rolls to his knees, his eyes enlivened with rage.

Moore: Uh oh, Psycho is hulking up, and he doesn’t even need roids to do it.

A stunned and weary David rushes in and begins to lay into Psycho’s forehead with punch after punch. The blows have Psycho disorientated but not down. This prompts David to get a running start, perhaps going for a seated clothesline from hell. He bounces off of the ropes and comes back in at Psycho who surprises his nimble opponent by standing and throwing him up into the air. He catches David on his shoulders then drops back into a big Samoan Slam.

Comeau: Psycho cutting Freak off at every corner. He must be feeding off the raw emotion of that Cartel Title Rumble loss and the fact that David has been a gnat in his face for months.

Moore: I hate gnats, especially when I accidentally swallow one. I’m not allowed to eat for six months after that.

David holds his lower back as he rolls towards the ropes, his arm falling over the second cable. It’s at this point that Psycho takes him by the hair, drags him up to his feet and nails a violent headbunt. The blow brings Freak back down to his knees before he’s yanked by his hair to his feet and dragged towards a nearby corner.

Psycho begins to step up the turnbuckle, pulling David along behind him by his ear now. He reaches the top rope when Aurora hops to the apron and grabs his ankle, desperately trying to pull it out from under him. A shot to the top of the head knocks Rose off of the apron and to the mats, but the distraction proves costly for Psycho.

David is able to finagle his way free then lunge into the air, dropkicking him to the seat. As a result Psycho is sent flipping forward off of the turnbuckle and crashing through the stacked tables at ringside. The wood shatters around his frame as he comes all the way down to the outside mats.

Susie: MCGRUFF THE CRIME DOG!

Mark: Oh my, Psycho right through those stacked tables! This is just the opportunity that David needed.

The fans are on their feet chiming in with a holy shit chant that echoes all throughout the building, enthused by Psycho’s death defying plunge through the wood. David leans against the top rope, catching his breath and recovering from his numerous injuries.

After giving himself sufficient time to recover, David rolls out of the ring and grabs Psycho by the bangs of his hair. It takes every ounce of strength left in his ailing body to pull Psycho to his knees and eventually roll the dead weight under the ropes into the ring. He slides in and quickly drops down on Psycho’s sternum with a lateral press.

The official makes the count with the crowd squealing.

1

2

3!

The fans find themselves stunned, but nobody more-so than Freak, when Psycho launches his shoulder from the canvas and prevents defeat.

Comeau: Psycho kicking out even after going through those stacked tables. I have a feeling this match has only just started to get brutal.

Moore: As brutal as Jessica Alba’s acting abilities.

Aurora is screaming at Freak to get on Psycho while the getting’s good. David stands up and begins to stomp the injured body of his rival, his boot even connecting with the “N’Evermore” word painted across Psycho’s chest. Finally Freak lunges into the air and comes down knee first straight against Psycho’s heart. The blow causes the vicious one to roll to his shoulder, cradling his chest in his arms.

David quickly drops a knee into the small of his back, targeting the area that went through the table. Psycho grimaces and now finds himself on his stomach, perfect placement for David who drops with an elbow into his kidneys. David now rolls across the ring and under the ropes to the apron, grabbing the top cable then lunging onto it.

Freak springs off, flies through the air and nails another elbow drop to the small of Psycho’s back, resulting in a cringe from the former World Champion.

Comeau: David Freak beginning to exploit Psycho’s now injured back.

Susie: I don’t think Psycho will be able to dance the waltz after that move. Which is a shame, since he was pretty light on his feet during our dance routine at Paranoia VI.

Comeau: The less your remind me of that, the better.

David quickly buries a knee to Psycho’s lower back and pulls in reverse on his chin. The rear chin-lock has Psycho groaning with pain while Freak shouts to his wife urgently. Aurora snatches up a table from the ringside area and slides it into the squared circle as best she can.

The moment the wood is in the ring, David breaks the rear chin-lock and then storms towards the table. He grabs hold of it, dragging it to the center of the squared circle. He then takes Psycho by the wrist and rolls him over stomach first across the still laid out table. His reasoning for this odd arrangement becomes clear the moment he lifts Psycho’s head into the air and rams him face first into the wood.

He pulls back on the head and again slams it against the table before doing it once more. Psycho’s skull is almost busted open thanks to these repeated thuds against the table. However, David isn’t satisfied, he grabs one set of the table’s legs and puts them against the canvas so that it’s placed diagonally across the canvas. A struggling Psycho is grabbed by the back of the head, pulled to his feet then charged across the ring.

David drops to his knees and at the same time pulls Psycho down throat first into the edge of the diagonally placed table. The blow almost crushes Psycho’s throat, causing him to writhe and roll across the canvas almost coughing up blood.

Comeau: Psycho’s larynx may be ripped after that move.

Moore: You mean we’ll never hear that wonderful soprano voice again? That’s like taking a fuzzy bunny away from a three year old girl, or me. It’s totally devastating.

With Psycho momentarily incapacitated David goes to work. He pulls the table across the ring and props it diagonally against the turnbuckle, making sure it’s perfectly slanted.

Comeau: More wood on the way.

Moore: But I’m not doing that type of work anymore, I swear. After that last film it was….wait, you mean the tables don’t you?

The table is prepped for the injured body of the savage. The paint on his chest begins to leak away, diluted by his sweat as he struggles towards his feet. That’s when a right nails him to the temple and a boot connects just under his jaw. The blow almost knocks him back before Freak takes him around the neck, dragging him up and placing him in a side headlock.

His plan becomes obvious as he takes off across the ring and intends to use Psycho’s head like a battering ram, driving it through the table. That’s when Psycho pushes him off, sending Freak charging forward into the table. He stops himself just short of the wood, placing his palms against it and then whispering “thanks” to the heavens.

Sadly he doesn’t have much to be thankful for, because Psycho steps in, takes him around the neck with a cobra clutch then turns his back to the table. Obviously Psycho is setting for the Psychotic Episode through the table. His barbaric plot unfold as he drops back, flipping David over and through the table.

WAIT, no, David actually lands on his feet and keeps from going through the table, falling a few inches short of it. Psycho turns around, finding himself speechless over Freak’s agility. He barely has time to react before David charges forward and lunges into the air. That’s when Psycho catches him across the chest and pitches him through the table with a standing STO.

The wood shatters around Freak’s frame, leaving him to convulse amongst the fragments.

Comeau: STO through the table, that could have broken Freak’s neck!

Moore: Or compressed his head into his shoulders, making him even shorter. Like, Warwick Davis short. At the very least he’d be able to play an Ewok.

The crowd is thoroughly enjoying this action as Psycho kneels on the canvas and Freak lays almost comatose. He pulls David by the ankle from the table and falls into the lateral press, engulfing him under his weight. The fans count along, realizing that Psycho is seconds from wrapping up this feud.

1

2

Psycho’s hope is shattered the moment that David launches a shoulder from the canvas, as if it were spring loaded.

Mark: And now Freak kicking out. These two want to win this one in the worst way. For Psycho this is about absolution, for Freak, it’s about getting this albatross off his neck and getting back into the good graces of the roster.

Obviously Rose is not liking what she’s seeing, her heart lodged in her throat and her pulse racing. Psycho suffers from a rush of adrenaline, getting to his feet and rolling David to his as well. He is then hooked under the arms before Psycho throws him up into the air then catches him on his shoulders. He drops down into a Tiger Bomb, burying his shoulders to the back of David’s knees for another pin.

1

2

Freak kicks out to another roar of disbelief. Psycho’s lips quiver from his rage, very, VERY aggravated by Freak’s resilience. The toll this bout has taken on his body becomes obvious as he struggles to reach his feet and start across the ring. Another table is fetched from ringside by the Sadistic One, who slides into the ring, preparing for ANOTHER disturbing spot.

To further complicate matters Psycho is also retrieving yet another table, which he also deposits the ring.

Comeau: Psycho with some bad thoughts on his mind.

Moore: I take pills so I don’t have bad thoughts.

Mark: Um, Susie, those are birth control pills.

One of the table is stood up by Psycho, who waits anxiously for David to stand. As soon as Freak gets to his knees, Psycho throws the table down right into his face. The wood slams off of David’s skull and his body tumbles to the canvas like a sack of potatoes. The table falls into Psycho’s clutches yet again, where Freak will soon be.

Psycho begins to set the table up under the nearest turnbuckle now, making sure it’s perfectly positioned. Once it’s set he turns his focus to the still suffering David, plucking him up to his feet then nailing him straight to the mouth with a devastating haymaker.

The punch connects with jaw shattering force and knocks his wounded body backwards into the table. He finds himself stretched across the wood, prone for the big man’s attack. The Sadistic One storms towards the corner and scales it, perhaps going for some type of moonsault.

Mark: Psycho going to the high risk district.

He gets to the top rope and slowly begins to turn around, the crowd sitting on pins and needles as they anticipate his next move. The giant turns around to face his nemesis, prepared to take flight and finally end this war. He finds himself shocked however as David pushes through the pain and rises to his knees on the table.

Surprisingly he stands up on top of the wood and then dives off, landing incredibly on the top rope right in front of Psycho and quickly taking him around the neck. Before the fans can even catch their breath at the sight of David’s shocking leap, he drops back and pulls Psycho off the turnbuckle into a DDT through the table.

Moore: BRATWURST!

Comeau: DDT off the turnbuckle through a table. I’ve never seen that before here in the IWC. God what a crazy night this has been.

Susie: And the ending will be satisfying too, because I’ll either get my snow-cone, or name my own move.

Mark: I’m sure either prospect has the fans riveted.

Freak and Psycho are sprawled across the canvas and the shards of wood. Every inch of their anatomies are burning with pain, many internal injuries perhaps inflicted. David took just as much punishment from that move as Psycho, his back crashing through the wood right alongside his rival’s skull.

Aurora is slapping the apron repeatedly, trying to motivate her husband. David actually begins to stir, rolling out of the wood chips but unfortunately he’s moving away from Psycho.

Comeau: Freak not going for the pin there, that could prove costly.

Every muscle in his body is suffering as he ascends to his feet, watching Psycho try and do the same. He remains on his elbows and knees above the many broken planks of wood, barely conscious after going head first through them. That’s when David steps onto Psycho’s back and lunges into the air. He comes down with a senton splash onto Psycho’s back, driving him down face first into the shattered table once again.

He bounces off of the table, some of it splintering his flesh as he flops to his back. Freak sits up beside him, reaching for his badly aching kidneys in the process.

Comeau: Very creative move by Freak, doing further damage to the Sadistic One. I have no idea how much more these two can take.

Somehow Psycho is STILL trying to stand up, shaking off the effects of the blows to his skull. He just begins to get up when David rushes in, catches him around the neck and delivers a big swinging neck-breaker. The back of the Sadistic One’s head slams viciously against the canvas, causing him to sit up and wince from the unbearable pain.

David now rushes into the cables in front of the seated Psycho, bouncing off then lunging at his seated rival. A clothesline from hell nails Psycho’s throat, toppling him to the canvas with Freak coming down on top. The fans are on their feet, celebrating what should be a sure victory for Freak as he hooks his opponent’s leg.

1

2

Madness sweeps throughout the Manhattan Center as Psycho once again kicks out, shoulder defiantly launching from the canvas. David and Aurora share a look of astonishment, their hands in their hair, ready to simultaneously rip out of a few chunks.

He grits through the pain while rising to his feet and approaching the second table slid into the ring by his opponent.

Comeau: Oh no, more tables about to come into play.

Moore: These tables should unify into one all powerful being, like Devastator. That way they can defend themselves.

Psycho is surprisingly crawling towards the ropes, showing that he still has some traces of energy left. He leans against the second rope when David comes barreling in, delivering a symbolic face wash to Psycho’s skull. The blow almost rips skin from muscle and leaves Psycho in an even greater state of confusion.

The bangs of the former Livewire Champion are grabbed and he’s pulled away from the ropes. Freak delivers a quick dropping knee strike to his temple, knocking Psycho over onto his back and leaving him almost incapable of putting up a fight. David now drags Psycho up to his feet and hits a kick to his gut

Freak steps around in front of him, locking on a stunner position then charging at a nearby turnbuckle. Obviously he’s setting up for a sliced bread number 2 through the table. The moment he reaches the top rope and flips back, Psycho reaches out and grabs the top rope, keeping from being pulled down into the move.

David lands on his feet just inches from the table then lunges into the air, landing on top of Psycho’s shoulders and trying to hit an inverted hurricarana. Sadly Freak finds his plans backfiring yet again because Psycho catches David around the knees and refuses to let him drop back into the move. He slowly backs towards the table, ready to put Freak through it with an electric chair drop.

That’s when Freak puts his hands to the top of Psycho’s head and pushes himself over top of it. He flies over Psycho’s cranium and over the ropes, shockingly landing on the apron. With his back turned towards Psycho he takes a moment to lift a fist towards the fans.

This brief display of showmanship leaves David a sitting duck for Psycho, who reaches over the ropes, takes Freak around the neck and drops back. Freak is sent flying over the cables and crashing across the top of his head with a Psychotic Episode through the table!

Comeau: DEAR LORD!

Susie: DEAR SANTA!

Mark: Psychotic Episode planting David right through the table! You talk about sick!

Freak rolls out of the chunks of wood while Aurora shakes her head, refusing to believe what she just witnessed.

The Sadistic One crawls into the lateral press, both legs hooked for the pinfall. The crowd chants along, realizing that their seeing closure to this long standing rivalry.

1

2

3

Comeau: And the Psychotic Episode proved the undoing for Freak in Tables Are Legal. Psycho victorious after an outright war.

Moore: And I didn’t even get any Kevlar. Actually that’s a good thing considering that my body is too weak to support it.

With torn skin, bruised muscles, and brittle bones, Psycho struggles to his feet, standing as a victor on this evening. He almost loses his footing but somehow catches himself before plummeting to the canvas. Finally its referee Princeton who moves in to support the winner while lifting his arm to symbolize his accomplishment. A despondent Aurora shakes her head on the outside of the ring, lowering it to stare down at her feet, looking anywhere but in the ring.

Mark: After months of miscommunications we got a definitive end to this rivalry, Psycho beating the very man who has been a thorn in his side for so very long.

Moore: Usually I just let the thorns stay in my side, its too scary to pull out.

Comeau: With this issue closed, can Psycho go on to pursue other endeavors now? Such as the Cartel Championship?

After exiting the ring Psycho stops on the ramp and motions to the words spread across his chest. Although the paint has ran throughout this barbaric Tables Are Legal match, the threat is still legible. His message is sent loud and clear once the camera shifts to a grief stricken Rose, hovering above her broken husband.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Vinnie Vegas: King of the inappropriate hand gestures

AN OLD FRIEND

The cynical Billy Mayne lingers before the expensive interview set, microphone squeezed in his palm.

Billy: Wow, yaay, it’s Billy “The Human Punching Bag” Mayne here to make an ass of himself yet again.

There is no emotion behind Billy’s tone as he takes a swig from a bottle held in a paper bag.

Mayne: I guess I’m here to be the IWC’s rendition of Doink, the reviled comedy act. That HAS to be the case given the people I’m assigned to interview, heaven forbid I get to put my years of broadcasting to good use. Instead of getting a Peabody by interviewing, saaaay the World Heavyweight Champion, or the retiring Icon, I’m stuck on the short bus conducting forgettable interviews. Interviews with guys like the man who is standing just off camera so I can introduce him and he can make a grand entrance, Sean Johnson.

On cue a still sweaty Sean steps into the camera’s view, recovering from his bout against Buehler earlier in the evening. To help alleviate some of his stress over the controversial fashion in which the match ended, he brings along the ever so loveable POOPERS. The perplexing mix of canine/rodent DNA is held under Sean’s arm and its presence seems to terrify Billy.

Sean: Thanks for that warm introduction, Billy.

Mayne: That’s why they pay me the big bucks.

Johnson: Really? I thought they paid you in food-stamps.

Billy: *growls* Actually they pay me in dented can goods.

Johnson: That’s the best compensation of them all. But before we go any further let’s just get it out of the way.

Billy’s eyes blink like he’s suffering a seizure.

Sean: Don’t act coy, Billy. I know you want to touch it.

Mayne: Am I that transparent? I mean, it is fuzzy.

Johnson: Go ahead, just reach down and feel it.

A tentative Billy extends his hand and places it on the head of Poopers. He rubs the little scamps furry noggin.

Sean: There, feel better now?

Mayne: Somewhat.

Johnson: Oh, probably should have warned you though, Poopers doesn’t like being touched under the chin.

Just as Mayne scratches the anomaly to the jaw it lunges out of Sean’s arm and onto Billy’s face. A screaming Mayne tumbles to the floor with Poopers wrapped around his features, his high pitched squeals echoing throughout the Manhattan Center. “The Griffin” stares down at the struggling Billy only a second before retrieving the microphone from the floor.

Sean: Don’t worry Billy, Poopers will stop once he through feeling so promiscuous. That’s why I couldn’t bring him to ringside tonight, last thing I need are more lawsuits and paternity tests.

Sean acts as if the screaming Billy doesn’t even exist, turning his back on Mayne and Poopers in favor of giving the camera his utmost attention.

Johnson: That’s right, OH YEAH, the Griffin is back, and Poopers is hitched along for the ride. Dig it!

He briefly bites his tongue but not because Billy has leapt to his feet behind him, spinning in circles to pull Poopers off of his face.

Sean: Shit! I forgot I’m not allowed to say that without being sued by Macho Man Randy Savage. Isn’t it bad enough that I can’t even eat a Slim Jim on camera!?! The bastard!!

A deep, soothing breathe is taken. Just behind his back Billy is hitting Poopers against a wall, but the odd creature will not detach its self from his face.

Johnson: Sorry, had to get that out of my system. Now back to the awesomeness that is Sean Johnson. I know, I know what you’re thinking, and don’t worry, you already have your Tivo’s set ready to recorder my SPECTACULAR segments.

But I’d also like to address the question on the minds of a vocal minority. I’m talking about the tweeners downloading their illegal Miley Cyrus photos, posting messages on Twitter and asking why they should care that I’m back. And these same people, who flip burgers at McDonald’s and still listen to “Em Bop,” cite my failure to win as cause to be so apathetic.

Billy tumbles back to the concrete, still struggling valiantly to get Poopers off of his face while Johnson goes on with his diatribe.

Sean: I’ll WAKE UP these snoozers and jar them from their apathy by putting title gold around this waist.

He pantomimes having a belt around his waist.

Johnson: Yeah, yeah, sure my whole pursuit of title gold hasn’t gone that well, but times they are a changing. In fact, I’ve already got another title match set up. Yeah, big news from a big time player, and here’s the headline, “Sean Johnson gets a rematch at the Cartel Championship.”

He steps back and stares off into the heavens, envisioning reading the headline as if it were tugged behind a small plane.

Sean: How did I get this match? Is that what you’re asking in your shitty little blogs I spend twelve hours a day reading? Simple. I appealed to referee Fitzpatrick concerning Princeton’s decision at the conclusion of my match. And unlike Princeton he saw my logic, he knew that I was robbed of a well earned X-Class Title shot, so Fitzpatrick agreed to compensate for his colleagues idiocy by guaranteeing he’d get me a shot at the Cartel gold. Only you can’t ask him about it, considering he’s kind of unconscious right now. Convenient, yes, I know. But it doesn’t make it any less true.

Psycho: If your lips are moving, your lying Johnson.

A chill goes up Sean’s spine and briefly paralyzes him. Psycho steps to his side swiping a towel over his exhausted, bright red flesh. His body is aching from hair tip to toe nail but it doesn’t stop him from squaring up on Johnson.

Psycho: Fitzpatrick didn’t make any such promises.

Johnson: How do you know?

Psycho: Because he wouldn’t be that stupid. Everyone, EVERYONE knows that I’M coming after that Cartel Title, and anyone who stands in my way is going to be left in far worse shape than Fitzpatrick.

Sean: Go on.

Sean crosses his arms and waits even though Psycho was finished.

Psycho: Umm, that was pretty much it, that’s all I had to say.

Johnson: Oh. So let me get this straight…..

The Sadistic One puts a finger up in front of Johnson’s face.

Psycho: There’s nothing to get Sean. I DESERVE a one on one match against Evermore, I came so close, sooooo close to winning the belt at Paranoia, only for him to pull a dirty trick and only further soil the legacy of the title.

Sean: Okay, so you were in the Rumble for the longest span of time? Who cares? I got more accomplished in that match than you and in a shorter amount of time. I eliminated more people from the Rumble than anybody, and I think that makes me a bit more deserving of a title match than you.

Psycho: I don’t think your quite getting this, Sean.

Psycho steps right up into Johnson’s face, the Griffin not backing down.

Psycho: Are you really prepared to stand in my way, to go down this road? Are you ready to endure?

Sean surprisingly smiles.

Johnson: If it means becoming champion again and making my return just a bit more special, than yes. I’m ready.

The two veteran competitors go nose to nose, staring through one another’s pupils into their very souls. Obviously the lust for gold has set Psycho and Johnson down a path of self destruction.

JASON WHEELER VS. ROBIN BROOKS VS. PAT EVANS
WORLD TITLE #1 CONTENDERSHIP

The low sound of a cat sends chills down the audience’s spines as the familiar strings of the electric guitar takes over. The audience turns to the entrance way as the big screen reads a single word before showing clips most audience member will remember. "WHEELER".

Open your heart it's gonna be alriiiiiiiii....

SING IT!

Thunder, rain, and lightning
Danger, water rising
Clamour, sirens wailing
It's such a bad sign

The crowd erupts into a wave of negativity at the sight but Wheeler doesn't come out of the big screen even though the music continues.

Shadows of dark creatures
Steel clouds floating in the air
People run for shelter
What's gonna happen to us!?
All the steps we take, all the moves we make, all the pain at stake
I see the chaos for everyone
who are we what can we do

You and I are same in the way
that we have our own styles that we won't change

The audience isn't sure what to make of it until Jason finally does pass through the curtains. Oddly enough he is not adorned in his standard wrestling gear, instead he’s dressed in his street gear.

Yours is filled with evil and mine's not there is no way I can lose
Can't hold on much longer - But I will never let go
I know it's a one way track - Tell me now how long this'll last
I'm not gonna think this way - Nor will I count on others
Close my eyes and feel it burn - Now I see what I've gotta do
OPEN YOUR HEART, IT'S GONNA BE ALRIGHT

Jason moseys up the steps and slides through the ropes into the ring. All the while he wears a less than enthused expression on his face.

Comeau: Jason Wheeler, the most targeted superstar on the IWC roster making a somewhat somber entrance to the ring, and oddly he’s not even dressed to compete for this number one contenders match.

Moore: So he’s not wearing tights? What’s so bad about that? Maybe he’s decided to stop being like his hero Peter Pan.

Mark: There is something foul afoot….

Susie: But I just got done washing my feet.

Comeau: That’s not what I meant. I’m a bit concerned by Wheeler’s demeanor here, especially after that conversation he had with Pat Evans earlier tonight.

Jason props himself against the turnbuckle and wears a slight smirk on his face. Obviously the wheels are turning inside of his head, some type of insidious plot being hatched. It’s at his point that “Outsider” plays through the speakers and creates a ruckus amongst the audience. They are just as disgusted at the sight of Pat Evans as they were when Jason made his odious presence felt. However, they elicit some excitement at the sight of the chain wrapped about Pat’s fist, which he shakes in Jason’s direction.

Comeau: Evans coming out here and he’s got that chain wrapped around his fist.

Moore: Ewww, he’s not one of those Cinabytes is he?

Mark: Seeing as this isn’t Hellraiser, I don’t think so. I believe Evans has contemplated Wheeler’s proposal and reached a decision. Evans has never liked Wheeler; he’s despised him for years and definitely did not care for his actions at Paranoia VI. He’s finally about to put his foot down right now.

Evans continues to storm towards the ring showing some rare emotion, his menacing pupils locked on his mischievous prey. As soon as Pat enters the ring, Jason high tails it, diving through the ropes on the opposite side of the squared circle. He lands on the outside mats then puts up his palms, begging off. A grin inhabits his face as he taps his temple and shouts something to the impatient Pat.

Wheeler: You’ll see Pat, you’ll see.

Evans grip on the chain tightens, squeezing the steel he had intended to bash Jason’s brain in with. Instead he remains rooted to the canvas, wondering what Wheeler is getting at.

Tell me exactly
what am I supposed to do?
Now that I have
allowed you to beat me!
Do you think that
we could play another game?
Maybe I can win this time?
I kind of like
the misery you put me through.
Darling, you can trust me
completely.
If you even try
to look the other way,
I think that I could kill this time.

Rah! Rah!
Rah! Rah!

It doesn't really seem
I'm getting through to you.
Though I see you weeping so sweetly.
I think that you might
have to take another taste,
a little bit of hell this time.

Rah! Rah!
Lie to me!
Rah! Rah!
Lie to me!

Is she not right?
Is she insane?
Will she now run for her life
in the battle that ends this day?
Is she not right?!
Is she insane?!
Will she now run for her life
now that she LIED TO ME!

You always wanted
people to remember you.
You leave your little mark on
society!
Don't you know your wish
is coming true today?
Another victim dies tonight.

Rah! Rah!
Lie to me!
Rah! Rah!
Lie to me!

Is she not right?
Is she insane?
Will she now run for her life
in the battle that ends this day?
Is she not right?!
Is she insane?!
Will she now run for her life
now that she LIED TO ME!

Ramidi ma ma ba di ma!
Ramidi ma ma din do!
Ramidi ma ma ba di ma!
Ramidi ma ma ba di mo!
[all x3]

Is she really telling lies again?
Doesn't she realize she's in danger?

Eeeeeeeyow!

Is she not right?
Is she insane?
Will she now run for her life
in the battle that ends this day?
Is she not right?!
Is she insane?!
Will she now run for her life
now that she LIED TO ME!

The little bitch,
she went and she told A LIE!
Now she will never tell another.
A LIE!
The little bitch,
she went and she told A LIE!
NEVER FUCKING LIE TO ME!

After the musical interlude Robin Brooks storms to the stage, face inhabited by an expression of repulsion. Obviously the Black Widow, much like many individuals tonight, is still furious over the earlier actions of one Katelyn Buehler. Nevertheless she storms towards the ring, ready to collide with the distracted Evans and the apathetic Wheeler.

Comeau: The Black Widow understandably a bit soured as she comes to the ring for this number one contenders match, she’s had quite the hectic night thus far.

Susie: Her night has been just like an episode of 90210, only there’s not that freaky girl wearing the really scary Halloween mask. I think her name was Tori Spelling.

Mark: Earlier in the evening Robin received a swift slap in the face from Buehler, which I think has only motivated her even more to win this match. Can you imagine how out of control Brooks’ ego will be if she wins both the Submission and World Championships?

Robin hops to the apron and hands off her Submission title belt, all the while staring at the back of Evans’ head. She doesn’t take kindly to the fact that Pat’s attention is focused on Wheeler and not her. In a fit she slips through the ropes, steps towards Evans and spins him around.

Robin: What the hell are you doing? I’m the REAL threat here. Not that silly nanny.

The aggravated Black Widow launches a foot straight at Pat’s crotch only for him to punch her in the ankle with his chain wrapped fist. The blow connected right before the bell could ring, leaving an exhausted referee Princeton incapable of disqualifying him. He jumps in and rips the chain off of Pat’s hand now, doing so with such speed that Evans can’t stop him.

Comeau: Robin went for the low blow and Evans made him suffer by blasting her to the shin with that chain. If Princeton was on the ball he might have disqualified Pat there, but after officiating two straight matches he has to be winded.

Moore: That’s not fair, how come Princeton gets to hog all the matches?

Mark: He’s kind of forced to considering that all the other referees are on the disabled list.

Robin hobbles into a corner, leaning against it for support and nursing her wounded leg. Evans pictures Jason’s head on her body, freaky, motivating him to move in and begin stomping her to the ribs. Brooks is doubled over as Pat nails a European Uppercut to her jaw then hoists her up so that she’s seated on the top rope.

Wheeler is actually clapping and cheering for Evans on the outside of the ring. All the while Evans starts up the turnbuckle and reaches out, grabbing Brooks by her wrist and pulling her into his shoulders. He actually looks as if he’s about to hit a death valley driver from the top rope.

Comeau: Evans going for the kill move already. Perhaps he wants to take out Robin so that this comes down to himself and Wheeler.

Moore: If Robin dies I call dibs on those muscle men who carried her to the ring at Paranoia.

He begins to pull her over his shoulders when Brooks shockingly flips out of the super DVD position and lands on her feet. She hobbles from the pain in her ankle but then turns around and lunges into the air, wrapping her legs around Pat’s neck and pulling him off of the turnbuckle with a modified head scissors.

Mark: Great counter by Brooks, flipping Pat off the top rope.

The former Submission Champion slams violently against the canvas, arching his back from the ring due to the impact. He turns his side towards the turnbuckle that Robin is pulling herself up into. She glances over her shoulder at the laid out Pat then lunges into the air. She drops across the back of her knees on the top rope then flips over backwards into a split legged moonsault.

The Black Widow crashes across a shocked Pat’s sternum and then hooks his leg.

1

2

The number one contendership is denied to her thanks to Evans’ resilience. After the kick out he begins to roll towards the ropes, falling against them. Just beyond the cables Jason is shouting at Pat, giving him some words of wisdom.

Evans’ face twists with repulsion as he hears Wheeler’s advice. Finally he’s had enough, reaching through the cables for Jason’s hair only for the Black Cat to jump back, palms raised into the air defensively. He pretends to be crushed by Pat’s refusal to hear him out.

The technician finally turns his focus back towards the ring as Robin comes charging at him. That’s when Evans bends forward, catches Brooks to his shoulder and back drops her over the ropes. Somehow the Black Widow catches hold of the top rope and floats over, landing on the apron.

Jason rushes in to grab her leg but is too slow because Robin pulls herself over the top rope and catches Pat around the head. Evans is dragged face first into the canvas with an X-Factor from his opposition. The crowd is stunned by the tremendous move that the Submission Champion just connected with.

Comeau: Another unbelievable move by Brooks. She is pulling out maneuvers I’ve never seen before in order to claim that World Title shot.

Susie: Oh man, don’t tell me SHE gets to make up new moves and name them? I’m still working on one myself. How about a move where I fold someone’s arm behind their back….?

Mark: Ugh, hammerlock.

Moore: Rapscallion!

A disorientated Pat finds himself laid out as Brooks hobbles across the ring and falls onto him with a lateral press. She tries to go for another pinfall while Wheeler lingers on the outside of the ring. She grunts as she lifts Pat’s leg.

1

Evans kicks out once more, keeping alive his hopes to become World Champion. He gets to his knees when Brooks limps in his direction and foolishly goes for a kick straight to his face. She regrets using her assaulted leg to do so because Evans shockingly catches hold of it and tries to apply the ankle lock.

Comeau: Evans going for the submission!

Robin hops on one foot as Pat tries to turn her over into the submission. Once again the Black Widow surprises her prey by lunging into the air and hitting a dropkick to his chest with her free foot. She nails a modified dropsault that sends Evans stumbling backwards into the ropes.

Brooks flips over after the dropkick and lands on her knees. The moment Evans moves away from the ropes his opponent lunges into the air, wrapping her legs around his neck for a hurricarana. She catches Evans around the neck and drops back, flipping Pat over into the move and finding herself seated on his chest in yet another pinning predicament.

Before the count can be made though, Pat sits up and drops Brooks to her back, reversing the pin into an ankle lock. He wraps his arms around her leg and rolls Brooks over to her stomach, applying the submission. The fans are as shocked as the Black Widow, who immediately begins to squirm across the canvas, trying to find her way to the ropes.

Jason is once again clapping and trying to get the crowd rallied behind Evans. He even tries to start up a “TAP” chant, but the fans instead remain silent.

Comeau: Ankle lock applied after a quick reversal of the hurricarana. Evans is seconds from being named number one contender for the World Championship. I can’t believe Wheeler is just going to stand back and let this happen.

Moore: Why not? Things are a whole hell of a lot easier when you just don’t care.

The reeling Submission Champ rolls from side to side, trying to find a quick escape from the ankle lock. She digs her claws deeply into the canvas at this point and pulls herself towards the ropes. Evans rips at the same ankle he slugged with the chain earlier, fully intent on ripping it out of socket. T

His desire to force the submission is not satisfied as his opponent grabs the bottom rope. The exhausted Princeton jumps in Pat’s face, starting a five count before Evans breaks the hold and instead wraps his arms around the Black Widow’s waist. He pulls her away from the cables and up into a wheelbarrow suplex position.

As soon as Robin is hoisted into the air a hand is wedged to her upper back and she’s shoved down sternum first into the top rope.

Comeau: Evans throwing Brooks into the cables with rib breaking force.

She bounces off of the cables and staggers back into Pat’s arms before dropping back into a bridging German suplex.

1

2

The Black Widow kicks out, maintaining her title ambitions. She drops to her elbows and knees while Evans twists around and grabs her arms. He hooks them and then throws Brooks up into the air for a tiger bomb only to twist her around into a big back breaker across his knee.

Mark: Now a back breaker delivered as Evans begins to slow this match down to a more methodical approach.

Moore: Awww, why does he have to make it slow? Uh-oh, he’s not slow himself is he?

Comeau: No, the two of you have nothing in common apparently.

Susie: We both use an excessive amount of grease in our hair.

Brooks writhes across the canvas palming her spine before Evans swoops in and exacerbates her anguish. He wedges his kneepad to her temple then grinds it across her face and eyes. Robin cries out in pain and tries to get away, hands palming her eyes.

Jason: Now go back to the ankle, the ankle, the ANKLE!

A flabbergasted Evans turns away from Brooks and storms after Jason. He actually rolls to the outside of the ring as Jason backs up the ramp, again begging off. Evans stops at the edge of the ramp, glaring up at the back tracking Black Cat.

Wheeler: Just trying to help.

Pat is so flustered he’s actually trembling, pointing at Jason and threatening the co-holder of the tag team titles. Meanwhile, Robin has rolled out of the ring behind Pat’s back and leans on the apron to stabilize her. Just as Pat turns back towards the ring Robin comes rushing across the mats and stepping off the steel stairs. She launches herself into a huge flying forearm strike.

The blow connects and knocks both athletes to the mats amongst a rousing reaction from the crowd.

Comeau: Flying forearm from Brooks off of the steps. She continues to impress here tonight.

Moore: Just like me at the commentary table.

Mark: Erm sure.

The Queen of the IWC rises to her feet and looms over the lowly commoner. He is in the process of getting to his feet when Brooks pops him across the jaw, leads him up to his feet and rolls him into the ring. Pat ends up sprawled across his elbows and knees while Brooks climbs up onto the apron and prepares to pull herself over.

That’s when Jason catches her around the ankle, keeping her from springboarding back into the ring. A furious Robin stomps down at Wheeler’s hands and eventually knocks him away before springing to the top rope. Unfortunately for Brooks, the moment she lands on the top cable, Evans steps in and grabs her wrist, pulling her down from the ropes and onto his shoulders.

Pat rushes across the ring and delivers a deadly DVD, planting Brooks right on the back of her head across the canvas. She convulses on the canvas after the sickening landing as Evans rolls into a cover, wedging his forearm to her face in the process.

1

2

Brooks’ shoulder lunges from the ring and the fans find themselves shocked that she kicked out yet again.

Wheeler: That’s alright Pat, stay on her! You’ve got this one bud.

Pat tunes Jason out then extends his leg and drops it straight across Robin’s throat. He quickly rolls to his feet and drops fist first directly into her face. The strike causes Robin to sit up grabbing at her features and crying out in pain. Behind her Evans is setting up for a running kick to the back of her skull that connects. The blow almost cracks Robin’s cranium open, causing her to wince in pain and roll away.

Comeau: Evans continuing to dominant Brooks on his way to a possible World Title opportunity.

Susie: I don’t see why everyone is so smitten with the World Title, the Submission Championship is far more sexy.

Evans locks on a front chancery then hooks Brooks’ leg, looking out over the crowd in repulsion before he hoists her up into a fisherman suplex. Somehow Brooks flips out of it though and lands legs first on top of his shoulders. She drops back and sends Evans flying across the ring with a hurricarana.

He ends up landing throat first on the middle cable, looking incredibly dazed. Jason stands on the opposite side of the cables, inches removed from his face, pleading with Pat to recover as Brooks comes charging up behind the wounded Evans.

She lunges into the air and lands rear end first across the back of Evans’ skull. She slides across the back of his head and to the outside of the ring, her legs landing on top of Jason’s shoulders then swinging him around into a big head scissors take-down. The fans are unable to contain their outburst as Jason splats across the mats and immediately reaches for his kidneys.

Comeau: Robin just killed two birds with one stone.

Moore: That BITCH! Animal cruelty is no laughing matter.

Mark: It was a figure of speech.

Susie: A sexy figure?

Comeau: Sure.

Evans grips at his throat as he rolls to the center of the ring, gasping for air after being choked against the ropes. That’s when Robin slides through the ropes and hobbles across the canvas. She jumps over Evans then to the far ropes, landing feet first on the middle cable and springboarding into a moonsault. Brooks crashes right across Evans’ sternum then falls on top of him hooking the leg for the pinfall.

Princeton drops into position and makes the count with the fans chanting along.

1

2

Before his hand can come down for the three count, Wheeler grabs Princeton’s ankle and drags the referee out of the position. The official sits up, looking flabbergasted as Jason finally slides into the ring and crouches. He waits for an unsuspecting Robin to stand up.

Comeau: Now Wheeler is getting involved considering that Pat Evans is a vegetable.

Susie: I hope he’s a carrot, I’ve been known to do some crazy things with carrots in the past.

Mark: I’m sure you have.

Just as Robin gets to her feet and turns around she’s caught against the ribs, hoisted into the air and driven into the canvas with a Claim to Fame. The sky high press slams Brooks violently against the canvas while Jason rolls away and begins to approach the nearby turnbuckle. He slips through the ropes to the apron and scales the corner all the way to the top.

Comeau: Jason could be going for the 450 splash. If he hits this he’ll have snuck through the back door and picked up another victory.

Wheeler stabilizes himself, perfectly balancing himself on the turnbuckle then looking out over the screaming fans. Everyone in the arena is booing as they realize that victory is all but a given. Just as he sets for the dive the lights in the arena dim, masking everything in shadows. All save for a single spotlight shinning down from the rafters.

Moore: What’s going on? Uh oh, that spotlight isn’t God is it?

Mark: I haven’t got a clue what’s happening here.

A dark figure now descends from the rafters, his painted features brought out by the bright light.

Mark: What the? HEY, that’s Riggs!

In a Sting-esque fashion Riggs lowers to the ring supported by a bungi-cord. A steel chair is present in his hands one he immediately puts to use the second his feet hit the canvas. The lights raise and Riggs unsnaps the cable from his belt, turning and immediately throwing the chair straight into Wheeler’s skull.

Jason is jarred from his shock by the impact, the steel bouncing off of his cranium and his body tumbling to the outside mats. He smacks off of the apron and then plummets with force to the ground. He looks all shaken up, in a state of both shock and pain.

Mark: Riggs just took out Wheeler with that chair, perhaps costing him the number one contendership.

Robin stands up in a groggy state as Riggs grabs the chair from the canvas then turns and swings it straight over her skull. He has no sympathy for the Black Widow who crumbles to the canvas in a heap, looking brain dead from the blow.

Finally he sets his sights on Evans, Pat trying his best to recuperate as he stands. The moment Pat reaches his feet, Riggs sets the chair up in the center of the ring then charges at it. He steps off of the chair and launches himself at Evans with a flying shinning wizard.

His shin connects with Pat’s face, knocking Evans backwards through the ropes and to the outside of the ring. The official has no other option but to call for the bell, throwing the match out.

Mark: Riggs a one man cleaning crew. He just eliminated all three prospective challengers from this match. Although I think his number one target was Wheeler.

Riggs storms towards the ropes and demands a microphone, one promptly being bestowed upon him. He takes hold of it and turns slowly in the direction of his reeling rival, Wheeler.

Jason eyes the figure in terror as Riggs lowers his head, bangs obscuring some of his features. Even behind the mask of paint and the long hairs, one can see the soulless, black pupils of his eyes.

Riggs: Four months, Jason, four months….

His words are spoken with little emotion but are still as chilling as a George Romero film.

Riggs: That’s how long I’ve been gone, or more accurately, how long I’ve been waiting.

The Black Cat shakes his head as he remains seated on the outside mats, trying to understand the almost Poe-esque ramblings of Riggs.

Riggs: And I’ve waited far too long.

The hair is brushed back and his eyes become as clear as day. The hue deprived pupils focus like daggers on his long time rival.

Riggs: I’ve watched you victimize this company through manipulation and betrayal after betrayal, and these eyes have seen too much.

He motions to the black void that his eyes.

Riggs: You might be asking yourself Jason, why, why was I waiting, why was I watching?

Jason shrugs.

Riggs: It’s simple. I was waiting for you to alienate yourself from EVERYONE on the roster. I was biding my time until you were ostracized, until even your closest allies turned their backs on you. That way nobody, no force on this planet would be able to stand between us. To get in my way. To keep me from getting to YOU.

The beads of sweat on Jason’s forehead flow with even greater consistency.

Riggs: I knew the time was right at Paranoia, that on that night you would double cross everyone who trusted you, because title gold has always been more important than alliances, right?

All Jason can do is nod from his seated base on the mats.

Riggs: WRONG. There is one thing more important than championships, Jason, and I’m going to show you what that one thing is by taking it away from you. And once your stripped of it, you’ll understand, oh yes, you WILL. Your whole world will be put into perspective, and you’ll have finally learned what I’ve been trying to teach you since the very beginning.

Riggs slips his hands through his ebony locks, parting them from his painted features.

Riggs: I’ll finish what I began almost a year ago, Jason, by taking what’s left of your soul and putting your career in a shallow grave. I’m coming from you Jason, oh yes, I’m coming soon.

Just like Uncle Sam, Riggs extends a finger, pointing towards an increasingly pale Wheeler.

Comeau: A disturbing message just sent to Wheeler. Riggs is back and he’s coming after Wheeler. But what are we going to do about the number one contendership?

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Man Mountain Rock: WWF’s answer to Pearl Jam

BROKEN 2

The camera cuts to the backstage area where referee Chester Princeton is sprawled across the concrete and his blood has formed a halo around his ripped flesh. He lays right inside of the gorilla position, some stagehands gathered in a ring about his body. Michelle Blacker stands back, watching with a huge smile on her face, eyes full of life.

Mark: What the hell? Now PRINCETON has been attacked.

Moore: I think someone is after all those in striped shirts.

Comeau: Princeton isn’t even wearing a shirt, it looks as if it’s been ripped from his unconscious body.

The half nude Princeton continues to be the cause of great concern for stagehands, who frantically cry out for the medical crew. All the while Michelle stands over his body, tweaking her nipples.

Stagehand: What have you done?

The greasy face of the minion stares towards the entry way, where a figure is looming off camera.

Mark: Who are they talking too? Who is behind these attacks?

Moore: I hope it’s not the Joker. He scares the hell out of me. I can’t even play poker because of him.

STRIPES

“Falling in the Black” rips through the PA system and brings the fans to their feet. They make their repulsion obvious, not bothering to hold back or bite their tongues. The explicatives fly as Christian Savior steps to the stage, wearing a ripped referee shirt stained with Princeton’s blood.

Comeau: It was Savior, dammit it was Savior who’s been laying out all our referees. I should have known after he maliciously attacked Princeton earlier tonight.

Moore: That shirt doesn’t even fit him.

A far off expression inhabits Savior’s face, the look of a pure madman. A man devoid of soul or thought, but it’s obvious that appearances are deceiving on this evening, because Savior has been thinking one step ahead of EVERYONE. His attacks on the referees were obviously pre-planned and well orchestrated, all building to this moment. But his motivations remain unclear as he slithers into the ring then demands the use of a microphone.

Mark: I can’t believe Savior would be so audacious. There will be penalties for this, I can assure you of that. Douglas isn’t here to watch Christian’s back anymore. I still can’t believe I didn’t see this coming after Savior deliberately went after Princeton in our opening match.

Moore: It’s okay, I didn’t see it coming either, it was almost as shocking as the end to that scary movie.

Comeau: The Sixth Sense?

Moore: No, “Catch That Bird.”

With a microphone in hand Savior strolls through the ring and prepares to explain his madness.

Savior: I can hear you scratching the dandruff in your hair…

His words are almost drowned by boos.

Christian: I can smell the sweat streaming down your faces as you struggle to think….

More boos.

Savior: I can sense that you’re confused by my actions, and not the usual algebraic equations that are far beyond your grasp of understanding. So to is my reason for being here, but I’ll TRY and dumb it down to your level. I’ll speak to you like the children that you are and lead you by the hand through the labyrinth that is my mind.

The more he speaks the less the people want to listen. But something about his abnormal mannerisms and the intensity of his tone DEMANDS their focus.

Christian: You know what, I’ll just simplify my plot to its crudest terms, that’s the only way you’ll EVER understand it. With all the overpaid, self righteous referees taken out, that leaves nobody to officiate the World Title match between Axl Evermore and Johnny Kingdom.

He can barely even speak Kingdom’s name without vomiting inside of his mouth. His face goes pale as the words filter from between his clinched teeth.

Savior: Therefore, I’m offering my services as special guest referee tonight, and since there’s no one else capable of doing the job it makes S.K’s decision all the easier. Fuck it, I’m not even gonna wait to hear what those skanks have to say, it’s obvious they have no other alternative but to agree to my terms.

Mark: This is sickening.

Moore: Just like Ralph Macchio.

The swagger begins to return to Savior’s step and confidence is exuded from his face. Despite not having Douglas in his back pocket, Savior begins to feel like the power is still in his hands.

Christian: Do you see people? Do you see? I may not be World Champion, but I can still dictate it’s direction and wield influence over it. The gold will NEVER truly be outside my sphere of control. I don’t care what I have to do, and to who, in order to ensure I have the power over the World Championship. I’ve proven that tonight and I’ll continue to demonstrate it the second the bell rings and Kingdom squares off against Evermore. Oh don’t get me wrong, I’ll call it right down the middle, because I’m not biased like Wright or Princeton, I’m a man of integrity.

Mark: Oh come off it.

Moore: Woops, sorry, forgot I wasn’t supposed to be touching you there. Wait….I’m touching myself.

The ever so conniving mastermind continues his deranged diatribe.

Savior: But what I will do is ensure that YOU people get the match you paid to see. I’m going to make sure it’s a five star classic! A five star classic that goes all night long! That’s right, no time limits, hell, no disqualifications either. I wouldn’t want there to be ANOTHER bullshit ending that sends you fans home angry and feeling like your intelligence has been insulted. I’ll allow Evermore and Kingdom to do whatever they want to one another. No sanctions, no five counts, no three counts, no count outs, no counts of any kind, nothing. And then when I’m satisfied that the two have thoroughly entertained you, that they’ve pushed their bodies past their breaking points, maybe I’ll allow the match to end. But that won’t be the end, because I’m not done giving…

The crowd obviously doesn’t like the insinuations that Savior is making, or where this is going.

Savior: Because even after witnessing a loooooong, GRUELING, barbaric World Title match, you’ll see a second one. That’s right, I’ll cash in my guaranteed World Title rematch and face whoever is left standing, the winner of Kingdom versus Evermore TONIGHT.

The boos are so loud they could send the roof flying from the top of the Manhattan Center. Savior makes his declaration, stepping towards the camera and shouting his words so everyone can hear and everyone can see just how serious he is.

Mark: Whhhhhaaaatt?

Moore: You couldn’t even hear him when he was shouting? You seriously need a hearing aid.

Savior: So, let’s hear it, let’s hear your applause for me, the most charitable man in IWC history and the soon to be World Heavyweight Champio….

“You Know My Name”

The all too familiar lyrics of Orlando Cruze’s entrance music causes Savior to bite his tongue. He gnaws at his cheek as the Icon steps to the stage and the crowd reacts as if they were given a straight dosage of adrenaline to the heart.

Comeau: There he is, there’s the retired Icon, the man who right here tonight will hang up the boots for good. And with his final act he puts an end to this farce.

Moore: With his final act he should have brought me a snow-cone! RRAAAAHH!!

Savior’s eyes almost resemble a crustacean’s, jutting out of his skull as Orlando steps straight towards him. He moves up the ramp in a fine designer jacket, expensive shades and black pants. Without even a moment’s inhibition Orlando slips through the ropes, microphone clutched in his palm. The fans are already on their feet, starting an “ORLANDO” chant that seems particularly touching to Cruze tonight, on his last night in an IWC ring.

Comeau: Orlando taking it in.

The moment he opens his mouth to speak, Savior cuts him off with his spiteful rhetoric.

Savior: You just couldn’t stand it could you?

Orlando shrugs his shoulders while the crowd harasses Savior as if he just murdered a Tellitubie in the center of the ring.

Christian: You just couldn’t handle it, huh? You couldn’t let me have my moment? You HAD to ruin it, you HAD to steal the spotlight. Even on your final night you continue to deny me my rightful torch and come out here to promote yourself, to grandstand, to spout off some generic catch phrases and monikers to get a cheap pop out of these sycophantic Neanderthals.

He points to the fans who suddenly wish they had clubs in order to beat him to death. Orlando looks un-phased by the comments, even pretending to be intrigued.

Savior: You HAD to walk out here, pose for the people, hear them chant your name, and give you that good ole’ fashion verbal BJ. You just can’t retire until these fans feed your ego and you continue to hold me back…..

Orlando: Are you going to keep moaning like an emo, Christian? I’m pretty sure the fans are sick of it by now.

The fans agree, demonstrating so by cheering. Savior runs his palm through his hair, trying to maintain his sanity.

Cruze: More accurately, I think the fans are just plain sick of you.

His finger digs into Savior’s sternum, actually shoving him back a bit.

Orlando: You know it’s not MY fault that I’m popular, well kinda, that people actually pay to see me, that they clamor to hear my words and feel the excitement of my matches. Face it, people want to see me a whole hell of a lot more than you. They were just DYING for me to come out here and interrupt you. And even on my final night as part of the IWC, I just have to give them what they wanted. So this wasn’t about stealing your spotlight, it was about making these people HAPPY!

Savior: Don’t hand me that shit, you came out here solely to ruin my moment.

Orlando: Yeah, your right, I guess part of that is true, so stand there pissing in the wind all you want, its not going to get you anywhere. You can’t bitch and expect Sallie and Krissie to hop to your needs like Douglas did. And now there’s no line of security keeping me from coming out here and offering a rebuttal on behalf of the fans you torment with your deluded logic and insane plots. So basically what I’m telling you is that your no longer calling the shots, and that you no longer have the power.

Christian: Oh, I don’t? I have a guaranteed World Title shot, Orlando. And you know that I can beat Johnny, that’s the entire reason he and you concocted a plot to hold me back…..

Cruze: My God man, you whine more than a pig. You should be sitting behind the school gym smoking a cigarette and writing some shitty poetry. Stop with the emo whining and listen to words that have actual merit. The only person who held you back was yourself, Savior. You never realized your full potential because you had victories handed to you. You can’t learn when victories come easy…

Savior: What a shock. Another speech.

Orlando: Oooohh no, this isn’t a speech, I have an Oscar worthy one set for later tonight. This is more of uhhh…uhhhh…..ANNOUNCEMENT.

Savior grinds his teeth until the enamel tears away.

Orlando: I didn’t come out here to give a speech I know you won’t listen to, to steal your spotlight, to “grandstand,” and I sure as hell don’t have to worry about getting cheap pops…..

He gives a thumbs up to the crowd who scream his name.

Cruze: Oh, and you definitely shouldn’t concern yourself with any torch passing. This isn’t the Olympics, Christian, no handing off the torch going on tonight. I came out here to tell you that Sallie and Krissie and I deliberated backstage just moments ago and we’ve reached a decision…..

The more Orlando speaks the more Christian is the one who doesn’t want to listen. He writhes, skin crawling as a result of the Icon’s statements.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

The awesomeness of foot porn

JOHNNY KINGDOM © VS. AXL EVERMORE

The live feed returns as Orlando paces through the ring, smoothing out his striped shirt and pointing to a few cheering fans in attendance.

Mark: A stunning turn of events just before our main event could get started in which we found out THIS man will be the special guest referee. His final night in the IWC will be spent making sure the World Championship is defended honorably, without any outside influences by the likes of Christian Savior. What a way to go out and end an unbelievable career.

Moore: Would have been better with dancing midgets, piñatas, and snow-cones, just saying.

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. Besides his fit mid-section, he also brings into view both the Cartel and NEW World Title belts wrapped around his 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 now removes the Cartel belt, handing it through the ropes to the time keeper before giving the World Championship to the Icon. After taking hold of the belt Orlando outstretches his hand, Axl promptly shaking it. .

Mark: Here is the man that Orlando actually passed the torch to, figuratively speaking. And now he will referee Evermore’s first World Title match in quite some time. Thanks to Evermore’s new contract he gets certain perks, including a guaranteed Championship match every year, and the right to hand out the newly crafted belts. But he had better be banking on his abilities to win this match and not Orlando’s endorsement to sway Cruze’s decision.

Moore: I hope Axl wins, he has hair, and a pony tail, he should use that to his advantage.

Comeau: Erm, okay.

Susie: Pony tails can be dangerous in the wrong hands.

Mark: Well I think Evermore is going to be quite motivated, pony tail and endorsements aside to beat the World Champion after their earlier interaction. Will he be leaving with the very belt that he brought with him?

Axl hands over the NEW World Heavyweight Title belt to the official. Orlando stares at the new championship, examining his reflection in it. He sighs before raising the gold up high to a loud, excited reaction.

WAKE UP

Johnny Kingdom steps through the curtains to the stage and is showered in the applause of the millions. The now defunct World Title belt hangs from his palm but he still raises it aloft to a standing ovation from his fans. Everyone is enthused at the sight of the gold in anyone’s hands but Savior’s. As the crowd continues to praise him and show their appreciation for his talents, Johnny moves to the apron and through the ropes. He steps towards Orlando, throws down the old belt and grabs the new one out of the Icon’s hands.

He quickly throws it over his shoulder and pats the plate several times. Evermore is not assumed in the slightest by Kingdom’s display, the Team Leader intentionally showing off with the gold.

Mark: Kingdom taking the new belt into his hands, but will he be leaving with it after this match?

Moore: I hope so, it makes Kingdom even more shinny.

Comeau: I just hope Johnny won’t be distracted by Orlando officiating this contest, given their long, intense rivalry. I must say it’s GREAT to see Johnny back in the center of an IWC ring wearing the most prestigious title in the entire company, especially considering who he beat to wear the belt.

After embracing the belt for only a few precious moments Kingdom hands off the title to the Icon. Once again Orlando raises the gold into the air before Johnny slaps him on the shoulder and tells him that he had better call this right down the middle.

The Icon puts on a smarmy grin then hands the gold through the ropes to the outside. Now that his statement has been made Johnny’s attention switches to Axl, the very enthused challenger for his belt. The bell chimes at this point and the match is underway.

Mark: Here we go for the gold, Kingdom defending against Evermore, Orlando Cruze the referee. A history making match on a historical night of IWC action.

As soon as the bell chimes both Evermore and Kingdom tentatively approach one another. The two reach out and lock up in a collar elbow tie. That’s when Johnny pushes one arm away, puts his shoulder to Axl’s chest and elbows Evermore to the bicep. He now swings around under Axl’s elbow before applying an arm ringer.

Evermore drops to a knee, grimacing from the pain shooting through his arm. He doesn’t stay down for long as he lunges to his feet and with all his strength slaps the knuckles of Kingdom, knocking them away from his wrist. Evermore then twists around and backs spine first into the Champion’s shoulder, wrapping his arms around his neck in a side headlock.

Comeau: These two feeling each other out thus far.

Susie: Usually I’m arrested when I try to feel people out.

Kingdom reaches down and grabs one of Axl’s hands interlocked under his jaw. He pulls the hands apart and swings his body out of the headlock. He still has his back turned towards Evermore as he extends Axl’s arm over top of his shoulder. Johnny lifts up on the arm then drags it down bicep first violently against his shoulder.

The blow causes Evermore to wince and double over before Kingdom twists around and applies the arm ringer once again. Orlando steps in, checking on the hold, making sure it’s all legal. That’s when Axl cartwheels across the canvas on his one free palm, landing gracefully on his feet.

Johnny swings around again though, applying the ringer with even greater force. That’s when Evermore bridges over backwards into a crab like position, ending up on top of his head. He reaches up with his foot, places it between Kingdom’s wrists and pushes one of the arms away.

Axl now rolls around to his knees with Kingdom keeping one hand on his wrist. With his free arm Evermore reaches out and grabs the back of the Team Leader’s ankle, ripping his legs out from under him. Johnny tumbles to his back before Evermore flips forward into a jackknife cover.

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Kingdom kicks out, sending Axl rolling across the canvas straight to his feet.

Mark: Back and forth, an even flow to this bout thus far. The Cartel and the World Champion continue to test the waters sort of speak.

Moore: I just dive right in, which can be painful when the water is just like 2 feet deep.

Axl and Johnny roll to their feet when Kingdom lunges forward into a knee strike to the Challenger’s stomach. The blow doubles Evermore over as Kingdom catches him around the neck and goes for the Exodus Finale. He hoists Evermore into the air to unleash his patented brainbuster DDT only for the Cartel Champion to twist his body in mid-air and bring Johnny down into a small package.

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Kingdom kicks out of yet another quick pinfall attempt and races to his feet. Unfortunately for the Champion he only gets to his knees before Axl steps in and hooks both of his arms, hoisting him up into the air for the double underhook falcon arrow.

Kingdom shockingly slips up and over Evermore’s shoulder, landing on his feet behind him then catching his arms. Axl is pulled down into a backslide pinning predicament.

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Now it’s Evermore who kicks out with mere seconds to spare. The duo rushes to their feet when Axl takes Kingdom around the neck, going for the Fully Loaded stunner. That’s when Johnny shoves him off, sending him charging forward into the cables then spilling through them to the outside.

Moore: These two trading near-falls and attempts at their finishing moves, but it’s not panning out for either man in this match. This is more like a well thought out game of chess.

Mark: CHESS!?! Oh man, chess is sooooo boring. Why can’t it be more like Hungry, Hungry Hippos?

Axl has landed on his feet across the mats, watching Kingdom from the corner of his eye. Before the World Champion can get his hands on Evermore he’s cut off by Orlando. Cruze seems determined to keep this match inside of the ring, and not let it break down into a brawl. This is exactly what he tells Johnny, who grins arrogantly as a result.

Kingdom holds up his palms and seems to actually be *gasp* LISTENING to Orlando. The special guest referee turns to inform Axl of his decision as well before Johnny steps around him and goes charging towards the ropes, perhaps preparing to dive through them.

That’s when Evermore lunges to the apron and then dives through the ropes. He slips around Johnny’s hip and pulls him down into a small package. Shockingly Kingdom twists his body though, keeping from being pulled down into the pin and instead dropping knees first into the front of Axl’s shoulders. He grabs the creases of Evermore’s knees and places them under his armpits, countering the school boy attempt into his own pinning predicament.

Although peeved by Kingdom’s unwillingness to obey, Cruze drops to the canvas and makes the count.

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Axl actually sits up on the canvas, pulling Kingdom down onto the back of his shoulders. Now the back of Johnny’s knees are placed over Axl’s shoulders, finding himself reversed into a pin.

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The crowd squeals as Orlando’s hand comes very close to slapping the canvas for a third time only to have Kingdom kick out. He rolls out of the pinning predicament and straight to his knees before crawling forward and wedging his shoulders to the creases of Evermore’s knees. He leans forward, folding Evermore up and causing him to be pressed to the ring by his shoulders.

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Once again the fans find their hearts in their throats as Evermore kicks out moments before his World Title hopes could be dashed.

Mark: Back and forth, back and forth this match is going. I bet Orlando didn’t expect to do this much work on his final night.

Moore: I didn’t think I’d have to do this much work either when I accepted this job.

Comeau: What WORK do you actually do, Susie? You just sit here, spinning in your chair babbling like a Vince Russo inspired character.

Susie: Well, I have to make sure my cleavage is always showing, and that’s a whole hell of a lot of work.

Mark: No, real work is what Kingdom and Evermore are doing right now, in this highly competitive World Title match.

Upon kicking out Axl falls back onto his knees, Johnny standing up in front of him and swinging around his wrist. Once again he’s got Evermore trapped in an arm ringer, bringing the World Title bout right back to where it started. That’s when Axl surprisingly falls away from Kingdom, flipping him over his body and across the canvas.

Johnny drops into a forward roll and ends up on his feet while Evermore nips to a standing base as well. Both men are upright, Johnny standing just in time to spot Axl rushing in with a big roaring elbow. Before the blow can connect Johnny side steps the elbow mere inches from his face and wraps his arms around the Challenger’s bicep.

Evermore is brought to a knee as Kingdom tries to apply the Lesson in Leadership.

Comeau: Crossface! Crossface attempt by Kingdom! This match could be brief but memorable.

Moore: I won’t remember it, unless they do something involving the use of glitter.

The reaction from the crowd is mixed, some hoping that Evermore finds his way out of the crossface attempt and others hoping that Johnny gets it locked in. The hometown celebrity suddenly rips his arm free and swings his body, hitting a sweep kick to the back of the Team Leader’s legs.

Johnny is knocked to his back with Axl rushing to his feet and lunging into the air. He’s going for a big elbow drop that completely misses its mark. Kingdom sits up just moments before the blow could connect, getting behind the seated Evermore then lunging forward at his arm.

He just grabs hold of the bicep, once again setting for that dreaded Lesson in Leadership when Axl provides yet another unique counter. He turns so that the back of his head is wedged to Johnny’s shoulder then flips forward. Evermore actually flips right over Kingdom’s upper back and lands on his seat on his opposite side. Before Kingdom realizes what has happened, he’s being placed in a side headlock.

Mark: Axl with some great counters out of that crossface. This match really is moving at a break neck speed. These two countering everything they’re throwing at one another.

An unnerved Kingdom rises to his feet with Evermore still holding onto the side headlock. He rushes backwards, pulling Evermore along into the cables. Both men bounce off and Johnny tries to shove Axl off of the side headlock. Unfortunately for the Champion, he may have escaped the hold but Evermore only broke the submission to go for another maneuver.

The second he’s pushed off, Axl grabs Kingdom’s wrist, turns towards him and pulls Johnny into a big tilt a whirl back breaker. Johnny reaches for his kidneys as he cries out in pain, finding himself still draped over Axl’s knee.

Evermore keeps hold of Kingdom’s wrist as he pushes the Champion off of his knee then drags him back up to his feet right into an Exploder suplex.

Comeau: Evermore connecting with the first real offensive move in this match.

Moore: I didn’t find it offensive. Maybe if it changed it’s name to Andy Dick I would.

The Cartel Champion sits on the canvas catching his breathe before he rolls back into a lateral press on his opponent. He can almost feel the World Championship within his grasp as Orlando drops to his knees and makes the count. For Axl there would be no victory more emotional than winning the title and having Cruze be the man to make the three count that awarded him the gold.

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Johnny powers his shoulder from the canvas and kills Axl’s hope. The fight isn’t taken out of Evermore though as he lunges to his feet then high into the air. He connects with the elbow to Johnny’s chest that missed earlier. The air has been knocked out of Kingdom’s body as a result of the blow.

Mark: Big elbow dropped by Evermore, that will really take the wind out of you.

Instinctively the Champion rolls away from the victimizer, turning to his knees and struggling to get to his feet. Axl assists Johnny to his feet by stooping beside him, wrapping his arm about his waist and then lifting him from the canvas into a Canadian back breaker.

Johnny bounces from the knee and finds himself writhing across the canvas. Before he can even truly appreciate his agony, Axl intensifies it by lunging into the air and coming down knee first directly into his kidney area.

Comeau: Evermore targeting the lower back, showing why he is one of the most dangerous submission based athletes in the game today.

Moore: I’d go after Kingdom’s skull, because it’s bright, and I’m naturally attracted to bright things.

Mark: Yes, and you are as annoying as a pesky gnat.

Johnny is sat up on the canvas and Evermore continues his methodical dissection of the lower back by diving into it with a forearm strike. The blow has Kingdom grimacing and reaching for his kidneys which may very well have been popped by that blow.

Even though the pain is almost indescribable Kingdom begins to stand up, a move he may regret making. The moment Johnny’s upright Evermore boots him to the ribs and whips him with all his strength into the turnbuckle. Johnny twists around and slams with such force back first against the turnbuckle that it sends him ricocheting to the canvas.

He bounces from the ring then rolls under the ropes, landing on his feet across the outside mats. He doubles over, gripping at his spine which may have been fractured by that forceful collision with the turnbuckle. Just as he begins to recuperate, Evermore comes flying off the apron behind him, connecting with a double axehandle to his lower back.

Kingdom calls out in pain once more and drops to his knees, Axl taking a moment to pander to his adoring audience. Orlando has no hesitation to start a ten count, wanting to call this match strictly by the book and right down the middle. Although he would hate to end this match on a technicality he’s playing the part of a referee to the hilt.

Axl rolls into the ring and back out to break up the count before going right to work on the wounded Johnny. Kingdom has once again reached his feet before Evermore pulls down his knee pad and dives into his lower back. The knee strike to his spine sends Johnny charging forward face first into the exposed steel turnbuckle post.

His skull cracks off of it and he goes spiraling into the barricade. He falls against it for support, his body wounded and weary from this onslaught.

Mark: Axl a bit more aggressive than usual. He really wants that newly forged World Title belt to go home with him tonight.

Moore: He had better take it out for dinner first then.

With Johnny propped against the barricade he’s in perfect position for Axl who moves in and delivers a swift buzzsaw kick straight to his sternum. The shot causes Kingdom to double over with pain before he’s chopped violently across the chest, forcing him to stand right back up.

Axl once again returns to the ring to break Orlando’s count before hopping to his feet and over the ropes to the apron. He lifts a finger into the air, twirling it around and looking out over the crowd who are seemingly in his back pocket. He now charges across the apron and dives off into yet another double axehandle, but this time it does pay off in the way he had expected.

Kingdom steps away from the barricade and catches Axl with an atomic drop, planting him testicles first right on top of his knee. An almost girlish wail emits from Evermore who hops back and cradles his junk with both palms.

Comeau: The double axehandle back firing on Axl this time, and in a VERY painful way.

Susie: See, that’s why women don’t have penises, it’s funnier to watch men get dropped on theirs.

Axl continues to wince in pain before he’s taken by the wrist by a recovering Kingdom and whipped towards the steel steps. At the last second Axl counters though, and sends the World Champion charging back first at a great speed into the stairs. The steps barely budge as he bounces off of them and falls to his seat.

Mark: Ohhh, but shockingly the Cartel Champion fights through the pain and whips Kingdom spine first right into those steps.

An Evermore chant starts from the crowd as he staggers towards Kingdom, still feeling the pain in his crotch. The Challenger takes Johnny around the neck and rolls him into the ring, believing that he’s easy pickings at this point. Axl now enters himself and slides in behind a kneeling Kingdom, wrapping his arms around his waist.

Comeau: Bearhug applied by Evermore.

Susie: Awwww. It’s good to see they can resolve their issues through a hug.

Mark: This is actually a painful hold, Susie, with Evermore squeezing that tinder mid-section.

Kingdom tries to block out the pain but finds it hard to do so with Orlando in his face, repeatedly asking rather or not he wishes to submit. Johnny shakes his head and growls the word “NO!” He won’t give either Axl or Orlando the satisfaction of seeing him quit here tonight and as thus relinquish his newly won title.

He begins to struggle to his feet, pushing past the pain in his lower back. Evermore holds on even tighter, really cinching in the hold at this point and exerting even greater pressure. The Champion’s will is being tested but he intends to pass with flying colors.

Driven by adrenaline and demotion Kingdom gets to his feet and back elbows Evermore to the temple. He then does so again, the shots beginning to weaken Axl’s grasp. It takes one more elbow before Axl breaks his hold and Johnny starts to rush forward into the ropes.

Unfortunately for the Champ, Axl quickly gathers himself and grabs the waistband of Kingdom’s pants, pulling him back into the rear bearhug. He attempts to drop back and nail a German suplex only to have Johnny wrap his leg around Evermore’s, refusing to be taken over.

Johnny is able to finagle his arm between his ribs and Axl’s forearm then drop to his side. He flips Axl over into an arm drag of sorts, sending Evermore down hard to the canvas. Evermore grinds his teeth from the punishing slam as he slowly staggers to his feet.

That’s when Kingdom hobbles in and delivers a big step up enzugari. Just before the book could nail Evermore in the back of his head he ducks it, causing Johnny to crash to the ring with nothing to show for his troubles. The botched attempt continues to prove costly as Axl swoops in, buries his knee right to the small of Johnny’s back and lifts up his legs into a liontamer.

The fans lunge to their feet, swept up into a wave of pandemonium.

Comeau: Liontamer! Axl has got the Liontamer locked in on Kingdom, is he actually going to get Johnny to tap out tonight?

Susie: I hope not, if he takes the belt from Kingdom, Johnny will cease to be the most sparkling person ever.

Johnny is almost coughing up blood as Axl’s knee wedges very deeply into his lower back. His body is bent like a pretzel around Axl’s knee, who is seemingly on the cusp of becoming a double champion. Kingdom’s hand instinctively raises into the air, palm hovering above the canvas.

Despite not being a trained referee Orlando is in perfect position to see rather or not Kingdom submits. He says nothing, only watches as Kingdom tries to push past the trauma flowing all throughout his body.

Mark: I don’t believe what I’m seeing here…

Moore: Yep, my legs go all the way up the ribs.

Comeau: I was actually talking about Kingdom and the fact that he’s moments from tapping out. I never would have expected his World Title reign to end in the span of two weeks.

Evermore whips back his hair as sweat streams down his face, every ounce of remaining energy put into the submission hold. His dream is seconds from being realized before Kingdom turns it into a nightmare. He surprisingly twists his body and finds the strength to push Evermore back.

Axl is forced to take the knee away from Kingdom’s spine before Johnny rolls to his side, sending Evermore flipping over. The Cartel Champion spills across the canvas but quickly rolls to his feet.

Comeau: WOW! Kingdom actually getting out of that hold and preserving his status as champion.

Axl ends up on his feet as he goes charging into the ropes, preparing to take down the rising Team Leader. He bounces off and comes back in at Kingdom who finds the strength to counter with a dropkick. To Johnny’s disbelief Axl stops just short of his boots and catches hold of them.

Johnny slams across his back as Evermore now tries to step through his legs and apply a sharpshooter. Orlando watches with a raised eyebrow as Axl employs one of the Icon’s trademark submissions by rolling Johnny over into the sharpshooter.

Comeau: Another hold locked in targeting the lower back! Kingdom has no option now, he’s going to have to tap out.

Moore: He could always be like McGuyver and build a bomb out of his shoe laces to escape this situation.

Mark: I stand corrected.

The fans are clamoring behind the barricade, leaning against it as Johnny wedges his elbows to the canvas and pushes himself up, calling out in pain. Once again his palm hovers above the canvas, looking ready to tap out and award Evermore his World Championship.

His palm slams against the canvas but he’s not tapping out, instead he’s digging his claws into the canvas and digging down deep to fight through the pain. He begins to pull himself towards the ropes, which seem like they are miles away. Orlando hovers above Johnny, keeping a close eye on his condition, ensuring that he doesn’t tap out.

The closer Kingdom gets the ropes the more pressure Axl exerts on the hold. He leans so far back he’s almost bringing Kingdom’s boots to the top of the Champion’s skull. Despite being folded up like an accordion Kingdom continues towards the ropes until they are within arm’s length.

His shoulder almost pops out of its socket as he reaches for the bottom rope and wraps his hand around it. Almost immediately Orlando is in Axl’s face demanding he break the hold, starting a five count to disqualify him.

Comeau: And Johnny reaches the ropes. Man, how much more can his body withstand? Even if he does retain the title, he can’t take many more matches like these.

Both Axl and Kingdom look as if they’ve had buckets of water dumped on their heads, sweating profusely thanks to this back and forth battle out of champions. Evermore agonizingly rises to his feet and moves towards Kingdom, looking to continue to press his advantage. Unfortunately Johnny has rolled out of the ring, his veteran instincts taking over.

The Champion drops to his feet on the mats, creating some space between himself and his Challenger. Axl gives him little to no time to recover, reaching through the ropes and hooking him by the nostril. Johnny is dragged up onto the apron and then places in a front chancery.

Evermore uses all his strength to hoist Kingdom over the ropes into a suplex. Surprisingly Johnny floats over Axl’s shoulder and lands on his feet behind him. That’s when Axl reaches back wrapping his arm around Kingdom’s neck, dropping to his seat in order to hit the Fully Loaded stunner.

Comeau: Stunner! No wait…

Axl falls to his back, having been pushed down as Johnny pulled his head free from the stunner predicament. Kingdom now stoops down to get hold of his laid out opponent only to have Evermore lift his legs into the air, wedging his feet to Johnny’s chest then push him off.

Johnny flies through the air and tumbles to his back across the canvas. A stunned Kingdom rolls to his feet, gnawing at his lower lip from the pain in his back and charging at his kneeling opponent. He delivers a punt to the face in order to set up for his brainbuster DDT.

Evermore slips out of the way though and reaches out, sweeping Kingdom’s far leg out from under him. The Team Leader tumbles to his back and Axl bends down to get hold of him. That’s when Johnny launches a leg into the air, his shin connecting to Evermore’s temple and sending his discombobulated body spiraling into a corner.

Comeau: Neither man able to get hold of the other.

Moore: Their just like escape artists, only they don’t have funny twirly mustaches.

Axl leans against the turnbuckle in a very exhausted condition only to look up and spot Kingdom intruding on his recovery time. The Champion charges straight at Evermore but walks right into a raised boot. The blow connects with such force that it sends Johnny staggering backwards towards the center of the ring, eyes fluttering awkwardly.

Evermore pulls himself up onto the second rope finds the necessary adrenaline then dives out of the corner. He lands right on top of Kingdom’s shoulders going for the hurricarana only to find himself trapped in his opponent’s clutches. Johnny charges forward with a moment’s inhibition and connects with the buckle-bomb. Axl is thrown back first into the turnbuckle, his body crashing against it viciously before he bounces off and staggers forward into Johnny’s clutches.

Kingdom boots him to the ribs, doubles him over, hooks both arms and lifts Evermore upside down before ultimately nailing the package piledriver.

Comeau: Ohhh, the rarely used package piledriver! Will it be enough to retain the title for Kingdom?

Although his pace is sluggish Kingdom crawls into the cover, hooking both of Axl’s legs in the process. Orlando drops down and makes the count to thunderous applause.

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No! Evermore kicks out moments before the third slap of the canvas could be made.

Mark: Amazing, AMAZING! Axl kicking out even after the buckle-bomb and the package piledriver.

Moore: This is so exciting, just like an episode of Sesame Street.

Johnny is in a state of pure exhaustion as he rises to this knees and burns a hole through Orlando with his gaze. Cruze shrugs and informs Kingdom it was just a two count. Kingdom realizes that arguing with the referee would be futile, prompting him to stand up and descend on Evermore.

His fingers slide into the Sex & Violence member’s sweaty hair, taking hold of it and beginning to drag Evermore slowly towards his feet. He quickly thrusts Axl’s head under his seat and hooks both arms, beginning to lift him up for another package piledriver.

That’s when Evermore surprisingly stands upright, trying to counter into a back drop. To Evermore’s dismay though, Johnny counters, twisting his body in mid-air and stretching out across Axl’s shoulders. He hooks both arms and pulls him down into a crucifix pin.

Axl rolls out of the pinning predicament though straight to his feet, Kingdom lunging to an upright base as well. He charges at Evermore only to be caught around the neck and nailed with the Fully Loaded Stunner. The move sends Johnny flying back to the center of the ring and the crowd flying out of their seats.

Mark: STTUUUUNNNER!

An exasperated Evermore crawls inch by agonizing inch towards Kingdom before falling into the lateral press. Orlando slides into position, ensures the shoulders are down and makes the count. The fans are chanting along with each count, realizing that a NEW World Champion is moments from being crowned.

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3

The crowd is just as stunned as Axl when Kingdom kicks out and keeps the title in his possession.

Comeau: And now Kingdom shocking the world with a kick-out. These two are operating on sheer adrenaline alone.

Moore: If they’re operating I sure hope they don’t touch the sides.

There is no need to exaggerate the extent of Evermore’s injuries, his body is weighed heavily by exhaustion and pain. He rises to his feet and limps towards a struggling Team Leader. Somehow Johnny has rolled to his elbows and knees, feebly trying to get up.

A forearm clobbers him over the back and then a boot connects with his temple. Johnny is almost knocked to the canvas before Axl reaches down and begins to hook his arms. He lifts the Team Leader to his feet and prepares to deliver the Flipside once again. The crowd is exhilarated at the thought of Evermore emerging victorious with his patented move.

That’s when Johnny stands up straight, back dropping Axl over his shoulder. Surprisingly Evermore slips down the Team Leader’s back and pulls him over into a sunset flip. Instead of being content with that pinning predicament, Axl lunges to his feet and flips forward into the jackknife cover. The fans are once again on their feet as Orlando makes the count. Drawing closer and closer to announcing a new World Champion.

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Johnny sits up, sending Evermore rolling over backwards and dropping to his knees. As soon as Evermore lands on his knees, Kingdom lunges to his feet steps in and delivers a vicious punt kick directly to his forehead. The blow has Axl very disorientated, so disorientated in fact that he can’t resist being placed in a front chancery and hoisted into the Exodus Finale.

Comeau: The Brainbuster DDT finally connects in stunning fashion. I don’t know how the Team Leader was able to pull that one off, but he did and now he may be on his way to retaining the belt.

The incredibly winded and withered body of Kingdom rolls into a lateral press. Cruze slaps the canvas in order to bring closure to this grueling championship bout.

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3!

The fans and Cruze alike are amazed as Kingdom has somehow survived the superhuman effort of Axl Evermore to emerge with the title in hand tonight.

Mark: It’s over, Johnny wins, my God he’s won, but I don’t know how. I thought Evermore had the title on a number of occasions.

Moore: So did I. After all, we have matching pony tails.

Johnny rolls to his knees, leaning forehead first against the canvas while Evermore starts to recover. The fans are on their feet clapping and still roaring with applause from this adrenaline roller coaster of a bout.

Comeau: What a fantastic match these two just put on. How they did it after what they went through at Paranoia VI is beyond me, but this ladies and gentlemen, was a true World Title classic. Hopefully we see more of this throughout Kingdom’s title reign.

Moore: I hope we see a lot more of Kingdom too, he’s so fucking sparkly! He’s just like a Christmas tree light, just without the electrocution when I try to bite into him.

Kingdom stands triumphant. Well, at least he tries to stand despite his crippling exhaustion. It’s safe to say that Axl took him to his limit and that Johnny is grateful to the heavens above that he walked away champion tonight.

A tentative glare was exchanged between Icon and Team Leader when the gold was handed off to the recently anointed World Champion. Cruze couldn’t help but to grip the belt a little tighter that night, to get one last feel of a belt he’ll never hold again. It made him increasingly reluctant to hand off the belt, especially when he was forced to give it to a man who for the better part of his career has spent day and night tarnishing the Icon’s name.

Old grudges were officially buried the moment that Cruze not only returned the belt to it’s rightful owner but actually wrapped it around the Team Leader’s waist.

Comeau: The classiest of classy acts here tonight by Orlando Cruze. He’s actually putting the belt around Johnny’s waist. When you think of everything these two have done to one another in the process of building this company, it just makes a moment like this all the more historical and all the more stunning.

Moore: If I were building a house it be made of Gingerbread.

Mark: How inspiring.

The thought of Orlando bestowing the gold unto him is downright disturbing to Kingdom, but his winded body puts up no fight. After the championship is secured Cruze steps around the new Champion and approaches a recovering Evermore.

He hesitates not to extend a palm towards Evermore, offering to help the wounded soldier off the battle field. Axl looks up at the palm, not too disorientated to grasp the symbolism of this moment. He grabs the palm and allows Orlando to help him to his feet, which he finds incredibly difficult to remain on top of.

Evermore falls back into the ropes while Orlando snaps his fingers and calls for a microphone.

THE LONG WALK

Comeau: And Orlando has got something on his mind.

Moore: His scalp?

Mark: True, but I was talking about thoughts.

Susie: Ouch, sounds painful.

Comeau: For you maybe. Hard to believe we’re about to hear Orlando’s final words in an IWC ring.

The second the microphone is spotted in Orlando’s hand the crowd shifts their attention right back to him. They begin to chant his name only for Orlando to vehemently oppose their response.

Orlando: No, please don’t. The two men who just competed in this match are far more deserving of a standing ovation. Come on now, get up and thank these guys. Give ‘em some PROPS!

The crowd once again rises to its feet and claps for the true gladiators who pushed each other to the point of near death in order to capture the coveted title.

Cruze: That’s right, thank these guys, thank them for showing that wrestling isn’t dead. That’s its still alive and KICKIN’. The Conspiracy have done a lot to tarnish and disgrace this company for the past year, but it’s matches like these and champions like these (motions between Evermore and Kingdom) that will return honor to the IWC.

The ovation matches the intensity of Orlando’s tone.

Cruze: No, no, you know what. You people don’t have to thank anyone, it’s our honor to give you a show. I should really be the one who’s thankful. Thankful for you fans giving me the privilege of competing in front of you each and every week…..

He turns briefly towards the television and casts a finger straight into the lens.

Orlando: Thankful for you people inviting my incredibly shiny dome into your house every other week.

He pauses for the fans at home to applause and feel special.

Cruze: And thankful for you two (steps towards the competitors) showing me that we can indeed rise above everything that the Conspiracy and Dan Douglas have done. You have no idea the gratitude I have towards you, Kingdom…..

Johnny motions towards himself, even going as far as to rub at his eyes to make sure this isn’t a mirage.

Orlando: Not only did you take that belt off of Christian Savior, and pretty much SAVED the company in the process, but for years you’ve pushed me, Johnny. In fact you almost pushed me right over the edge! I can honestly say that nobody has driven me so insane, and annoyed me so much.

A smile extends across the weary features of Kingdom, having more reason to be pleased with himself.

Cruze: But it was that annoyance that made me strive to improve. It was my unbridled hatred for you that made me a better competitor. I HAD to become good enough to beat you, and it was the pursuit of that goal that transformed and molded me into the competitor that I am today. If it weren’t for men like you and Lethal Weapon, I never would have become the ICON. So thank you, Johnny, from the bottom of my heart thank you!

The palm outstretched towards Kingdom leaves the Team Leader scratching his head. He takes a look out over the crowd then into Orlando’s eyes, trying to determine rather he’s sincere or not. Finally he embraces Orlando’s palm with his own and the crowd cheers loudly.

Orlando: Just one thing Kingdom….

Cruze pulls Johnny in so that there eye to eye.

Cruze: Continue to hold this belt with respect, don’t slip back into the power hungry madman I almost lost all respect for. Do me a favor, do this company a favor, do the fans a favor, no, do YOUSELF a favor, and be the champion everyone knows you can be.

The Team Leader sighs and whispers some words under his breathe.

Kingdom: Do I have to?

Cruze chuckles slightly, even on this very emotional night. He now turns his focus to Evermore, who is still employing the cables as a crutch. He steps in and puts his hand on Axl’s shoulder.

Orlando: Don’t feel demoralized, don’t feel bad at all, Axl. Because long after I’m gone you’ll still be getting opportunities like these to showcase your talent. The Conspiracy isn’t around to hold people back anymore. The only person who can do that, is yourself. But as long as you continue on the road your currently on, impressing the vets in the back, the fans in the stands and those with the gold, you’ll one day have the distinction of being World Heavyweight Champion.

The wheezing Evermore now pats Orlando on the shoulder, seeing that the Icon is starting to tear up a little.

Cruze: Keep on keeping on with STYLE Axl, and your name will become synonymous with the IWC World Championship.

Orlando steps to the center of the ring and stares up the ramp, preparing for someone to emerge from the back.

Orlando: I have a few things I want to say to a couple guys in the back, and if they’d please come out here I can tell them what I think straight to their faces. HURSE! Get out here!

The crowd is still enthused although they are now a bit bewildered. Everyone, Axl and Johnny included, find themselves perplexed as to why Orlando is calling out his long time nemesis. Orlando doesn’t have to wait long as Hurse steps through the curtains, looking just as confused as everyone else.

The Master of Control moves up the steps and through the ropes, looking officially creeped out and apprehensive of the Icon’s motives. Instead of Orlando locking him in the crossface and forcing him to tap just like at Paranoia V, Cruze reaches out for a move far different. His palm actually extends and Hurse almost jumps out of the ring in fright.

Cruze: Take my God damn hand right now.

Orlando is an expert at persuasion, forcing Hurse to reach out and take him by the palm. Both men begin to shake hands while Hurse exhales in relief, grateful that Orlando didn’t take his head off.

Orlando: I just flat out hate you, Steven.

Now Hurse’s threat alert reaches red.

Cruze: But like Johnny, it was that hatred that drove me to better myself, to work harder than I’ve EVER worked before. I mean JESUS, you used my illegitimate daughter against me, that was particularly awesome.

Hurse mouths the words “I’m proud of that one too,” towards Kingdom.

Orlando But seriously, whether you want to show me respect or not, it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve cherished each and every one of our encounters. I learned some tough life lessons from our matches, and if anything else, I can thank you for that. I can thank you for giving me something to fight for.

As the palms continue to shake, Hurse smirks diabolically and pulls away. He turns his back on Orlando, seemingly blowing him off before tears begin to stream down his face. Hurse spins around and lunges at Cruze, wrapping his arms around the retiring Icon and balling against his chest.

Orlando: Yeah, yeah, okay, enough now. Let go.

Hurse doesn’t want to let go of the man he’s battled for as long as he can remember.

Cruze: Okay, you’re kind of over doing it. ENOUGH!

Finally Hurse jumps back and defensively raises his palms. Although a bit bothered, and after straightening his referee shirt, Orlando continues. As the speech goes on Hurse falls against Kingdom, now hugging the new World Champion and crying on his shoulder. Johnny gently pats his on again off again tag team partner across the back.

Orlando: And finally, there’s just one more man I have to say something to. I think we all know who that is.

Moore: I thought he’d never call my name.

Mark: Sit down Susie, this is one moment your not ruining.

Cruze: NATHAN! Come on down!

The palm of the multi time former World Champion is directed to the canvas before him, humbly begging Nathan to join him in the ring. Without a moment’s delay, Nathan Creed steps out to the stage. He does not hesitate in the slightest to let the tears roll, they’re streaming down his face in fact. He wears his emotion on his sleeve upon making his way up the ramp and to the apron.

Once he’s entered the ring he and Orlando exchange a particularly poignant stare. A single tear trickles down Orlando’s cheek as he doesn’t even bother to extend his hand. Instead he steps towards Nathan and the two embrace with a hug. The fans give them a standing ovation as life long friends demonstrate their admiration for one another.

In all the years they’ve teamed, in all the years they’ve fought, they never thought the roller coaster would end, but that’s exactly what has happened on this night. Everything has built to this moment, both men standing together in the center of the ring for the very last time.

Nathan: You’re the Icon man, you’re the Icon.

His words are barely understandable, muddled by raw emotion.

Orlando: No, no, not anymore Nathan.

The retiring star steps back with his hand wrapped around the back of Creed’s head.

Cruze: It’s your turn. No more of this “The Future” non-sense, because your time is now. You’re the Icon, Creed, you’re the ICON!

He digs his finger into Creed’s chest. Nathan shakes his head, unable to accept what he’s hearing.

Orlando: We’re closer than brothers, Nathan, and I’ll telling you that your time has come. The future is NOW! Step up and fill the void, Creed. A lot of people have said you’ve always been in my shadow, but we know the truth. You were just waiting, waiting to BURST, to EXPLODE, to take the company by the horns and ride straight to the top. Well you don’t have to wait anymore Creed, this is it, fulfill your potential, Icon.

An “Icon” chant commences amongst the fans, Nathan emotionally looking back and forth at those sending him a message. It’s at this point that he grabs Orlando’s wrist and pulls the microphone to his lips.

Nathan: To these people, to me, retired or not, YOU’LL always be an Icon.

The fans clearly agree, their ovation demonstrating as much. Orlando tries to hold back his emotion but finds it more and more difficult.

Creed: It doesn’t matter how long, how many years have passed, when people say “Icon” it’s your face that they’ll envision. You changed this industry Cruze, you left your mark on it in A LOT of ways. If you think I’ll be the next “ICON,” fine, I’ll do everything in my power and more to live up to that moniker, but I can never replace the original “ICON.” Nobody could.

It begins to dawn on Orlando, to sink in, the magnitude of his departure.

Nathan: Multi time World Champion, IWC stalwart through and through, Tag Team Champion, respected by all, no, you won’t be forgotten, you’ll be honored in our minds, in our hearts, and especially in the wrestling history books. Orlando, Orlando, Orlando, ORLANDO!!

He steps back pumping his fist in the air and causing the crowd to join in. As his name is chanted Orlando breaks down and wishes this moment could last forever.

Orlando: I’m kind of at a loss for words here. Those who have walked away from a job they love know how hard this is, how difficult it is for me to say goodbye. I….I….can’t even express how much you people mean to me, and how much this company means to me. The initials I.W.C and U.L.W have consumed my life, but while my heart wants to continue to represent this place, my body and my brain are telling me it’s time to walk away. It’s just so difficult to say how much….

He lowers his face into his palm as to the stage strolls almost the entire IWC roster save for the former Conspiracy members. Orlando finds it impossible to talk now, too overcome by this mass demonstration of respect to utter so much as a syllable.

Sallie: Words aren’t needed Orlando.

Through the roster steps both Sallie and Krissie, two figures Orlando could have gone without seeing. He puts up no arguments though, still reeling from this sentimental display.

Sallie: We know how much these fans and this company means to you, because we know how much you’ve meant to us.

Once again the fans chime in with an Orlando chant.

Sallie: You’ve been a rock, Orlando. You’ve weathered every storm that’s hit your shores. You’ve taken everything that has been thrown at you, and taken it in stride. You’re the type of person everyone on this roster, Krissie and I included, strive to be like. And you’ve set the bar high, so high that it’ll be hard for anybody to top it. Lord knows everyone will try, but it may be impossible to outdo the almost inhuman standard that you’ve set.

Orlando bows his head as the crowd again chimes in with a chant of his name.

Sallie: So for being our rock and our savior, for being the man who always fought for this company and put the IWC ahead of himself, it’s US who have come out here to thank YOU.

It’s at this moment that the stars of the IWC begin to clap their hands, the fans starting in as well. Everyone in the building puts their hands together, almost everyone appreciative of the Icon’s efforts. Orlando takes it all in, his eyes closing as he sighs and tries to mask his emotion. Each clap, each chant of his name makes it impossible for him to keep the tears from flowing.

Sallie: But I don’t think “clapping” or “chanting” is enough to sum up our gratitude.

The roster members and those in the ring give Sallie a somewhat confused glance. She doesn’t return their stares, eyes focused on the Icon.

Sallie: Krissie and I aren’t alone in the belief that you deserve better. You see Cruze, we wanted you to come out here and referee this match for more than just sentimental reasons. It was a test, and I have to say that you’ve passed it with flying colors.

Orlando’s gaze shifts to Nathan but he just shrugs, having no idea what the two lovely ladies are talking about.

Sallie: We wanted to see whether or not you’d remain loyal and dedicated to upholding the honor of this company by calling things straight down the middle. Whether or not you would allow your personal issues with Kingdom, and your endorsement of Evermore to sway the way you called this match. And just as we assumed, it didn’t.

Orlando: Of course not. IWC means way too much to me.

Sallie: Exactly. It’s your undying dedication to protecting the legacy of the title that makes this announcement so easy.

Now it’s Sallie who becomes a tad too emotional to speak. Krissie rubs her best friend’s shoulder, trying to soothe her.

Sallie: There’s an old saying that absolute power corrupts absolutely. And that saying rings especially true when it comes to S&K. During our tenure we’ve done some truly horrible things, things we’ll NEVER be able to take back. And although we’ve turned over a new leaf ownership has a way of ruining people. With Douglas gone and the two of us entrusted with almost full ownership it’s a pretty safe bet that our weak wills would be corrupted again. And this company wouldn’t survive another dictatorship, after everything this roster has endured over the past few years they’ve earned the right to have a reliable, unbiased owner. A man of virtue, of honor, someone who will truly represent them and FIGHT for their needs.

Excitement builds in the Manhattan Center, Orlando’s eyes becoming a bit more shifty.

Sallie: Soooo, I guess I’M the one who has come out here to say goodbye, because you’re not going anywhere Orlando. While Krissie will return to her managerial duties for Nathan, I’ll go home and become the mother I never was to Becca, and hopefully you’ll be the father I kept from her. BUT, right now you need to concern yourself not with me, not with Krissie, not with anything but your decision. You need to decide rather you’re ready to represent the IWC in another aspect, no longer in the ring but in the back office. Because we’re offering you are shares in the IWC. We’re offering you the right to be the OWNER.

Cruze’s eyes are wider than saucers, his jaw hanging slightly open. Clearly he’s been caught completely off guard by this revelation. Just when he was about to walk away from it all he’s pulled back in. His palm slips down his face as he bites his lower lip, deliberating on his decision.

Sallie: What’s it going to be, Orlando? Are you going to right the wrongs the previous administrations have set? Are you going to add to the rich legacy of this industry? Are you gonna keep fighting for the IWC, for this roster, and for these people?

She points over the screaming audience who are now chanting the words “say yes.” The very emotional Orlando closes his eyes and makes his decision without really thinking about it.

Orlando: Yes.

The atmosphere in the Manhattan Center is downright electric. All those in the building are on their feet screaming, cherishing the concept that Orlando Cruze will now be the one calling the shots.

Sallie: Then we come here tonight not to say goodbye but to say “HELLO” to a new day in the IWC!

Confetti explodes from the rafters and balloons fall over the crowd. This moment is cause for celebration, as the age of the dictatorships are dead, replaced on a new era of democracy. Nathan steps towards the new owner and pats him on the back while Evermore does the same. Cruze stews with emotion, realizing that even though he’ll never step foot in an IWC ring as an active competitor, he’ll enter it once more as an owner. In a display as symbolic as the Berlin Wall toppling over, Orlando lifts his fist into the air and the reception is truly deafening.

FADE TO BLACK