OPENING VIDEO PACKAGE

RIOT!

EMPOWER

“You Know My Name”

Mark Comeau: WELCOME to Riot!, and we couldn’t be starting tonight’s telecast in a bigger way.

Susie Moore: Not true, the show could start with me directing some Sumo porn. That would be WAY bigger.

The void left by a lack of flashy pyrotechnics is filled by the arrival of the IWC President, Orlando Cruze. The fans are positively giddy, acting as if they were prepubescent girls gushing over the latest Jonas Brother’s album. The man on his way to the ring is no Disney generated media sensation however, and his popularity has proven to have longevity that surpasses puberty. His accomplishments will be remembered for years-DECADES-to come, which is why the fans react with such glee at the mere sight of him.

Mark: We’ve been waiting for two weeks, two of the most anxious weeks in the lives of Robin Brooks and Christian Savior, to find out Orlando’s verdict. On the last edition of Riot! he was attacked by both of the previously mentioned stars, and now we’ll find out what punishment they’re in store for.

Susie: They should have to face me in a riveting game of Hungry, Hungry Hippos. Believe me, I’d kill them both, I’m unstoppable when it comes to them Hippos, or Candy Land, or Operation….

Comeau: I’m just going to cut you off now, because I’m sure this would go on all night.

Susie: No, that’s pretty much everything I’m good at.

Mark: I’m not surprised in the slightest.

A lavish three piece suit adorns Orlando’s frame, with the jacket quickly becoming unbuttoned so that the Icon can breathe. Obvious by his deep, labored exhales, Orlando isn’t in the best frame of mind. Right now wouldn’t be an opportune time to ask him for a pay raise, especially when he may be on the verge of trimming the roster. A microphone is supplied to Cruze and with little wasted time he cuts straight to the point.

Orlando: At least I know that not much has changed in my time away from the company. You fans are still the BEST fans on the planet.

The crowd eagerly responds like they were provided nipples to suckle at.

Cruze: Riot! is still THE quintessential wrestling show.

According to the fans, Orlando is right on the money. Much of their money having gone towards paying for the luxurious jacket he tosses onto a nearby turnbuckle.

Orlando: The IWC still possesses the hardest working, most dedicated and loyal roster in any professional wrestling organization….

The cheers of agreement are heard as Orlando loosens his tie.

Cruze: And every time I step foot in this ring, whether it’s with my boots laced up or not, I’m still giving you people your money’s worth by getting your blood pumping and your heartbeat RACIN!

The tie is tossed into the same corner where his jacket hangs.

Orlando: And there’s one more thing that has remained the same throughout the years. Everyone seems to love beating on me like I were a piñata during Cinco de Mayo.

The reaction changes, the crowd positively pouting at the idea that their precious Orlando has been victimized.

Cruze: I mean I only just came back and I’m already being left unconscious on the canvas, by not one, but TWO people. Sure it’s nice to know that I’m still popular but….

“Falling in the Black”

The excitement is sucked from the crowd like a vacuum cleaner were pressed straight to their lips. Despite their disgust all eyes are still captivated by the image of THE most repugnant man on the roster, the controversial Christian Savior.

Mark: I don’t think cutting off Orlando Cruze is going to help Christian’s case. Of course neither did spearing him last week at the conclusion of Riot!

Susie: That was funny, in an utterly disturbing kind of way. Although I do hate to see bad things happen to Mr. Clean.

Comeau: I swear, that has to be the fourteenth billionth time you’ve referred to Cruze as Mr. Clean.

Moore: YAY! I broke my record.

Mark: Yeah, you sound like a broken record.

Much like Orlando, Christian wastes little time making his way to the stage and making a statement.

Christian: The way I see it Cruze, only ONE thing has stayed the same around here.

Christian’s head pivots like it were on a swivel. Orlando feigns interest through exaggerated gestures, such as crossing his arms, tilting his head and tapping his finger to his cheek.

Savior: Your still the same ass kissing self promoting blowhard you’ve always been.

Moore: HEY! He’s never kissed my ass, no matter how many times I’ve begged him to.

Christian: Look at you coming out here with your McMahon power walk and your Flair strut, marching around like a peacock showing off its feathers. Sure the thirteen year old girls in the audience and the children with down syndrome may still be into you, but the rest of us have moved on to better things…

Orlando: Let me guess, YOU’RE that better thing?

Christian: I’m the ONLY thing these people have got left. What with you on sabbatical, scuba diving with your autistic little bastards, and Kingdom losing credibility faster than the Barrack Obama presidency. So I assume with me being the sole source of entertainment, the shinning light in the shadows, the lone survivor of the zombie apocalypse, the golden beacon in a virtual wasteland, that you’ve come to cut my legs out from under me. That you returned to ensure that I couldn’t eclipse your accomplishments and make you what you should be, an afterthought.

Cruze nods and continues tapping his finger to his temple, waiting for Christian’s lips to stop flapping, which means he’ll probably get in a rebuttal by next month.

Savior: Go ahead, get on with it, Orlando. Show these people just what kind of guy you really are and what really brought you back to the IWC. It’s awfully convenient isn’t it? That you just happened to return the second I started building some momentum, just as it looked like I was on the verge of reclaiming the World Title. You couldn’t sit back and let it happen, could you, Curze. You couldn’t let me get my foot in the door, you couldn’t stand someone winning the title based on talent rather than politics.

Orlando: Ha-HAHAHAHAHA!

That last comment was a true knee slapper, evident by the fact that Orlando is…..well….slapping his knees. Savior looks like a tea kettle left on the stove top for far too long.

Cruze: I cannot believe YOU would bring up politics. Do you even remember how you won the World Heavyweight Title.

Christian: Yeah, by beating you.

The laughter stops.

Savior: I knew that was still a sore spot for you, aye Cruzey? Which is another reason your determined to keep the title out of my hands.

Orlando: Do I really have to tell you just how delusional you are?

Christian: No, I think you should save that sermon for these people.

A judgmental finger points to the outraged masses.

Savior: Their the ones living in denial, they’re the ones who still pop and celebrate every time you come to this ring instead of seeing you for what you really are. A liar, a power hungry dictator that has succumb to temptation.

Cruze: Is that so?

Christian: It’s almost so true it’s painful. As painful as watching you try to deny it, as you delude yourself into believing that you’re different. I heard the oath you took the night you accepted the presidency, how you vowed to be a man of principle, to right the past mistakes of other General Managers, Presidents, so on and so forth. But what principles have you stood up for, huh Cruze? What have you done that’s any different than the actions of guys like Mark Comeau, or Jason Seagreen, or Sheryl Gray? The answer is NOTHING.

Obviously the fans don’t agree, nor does Orlando.

Savior: You’ve abused your power a hundred times worse than Dan Douglas ever did, but unlike my real boss, you’re too much of a coward to do it face to face. You hide behind the curtains or at home, calling in your little commands, setting the wheels in motion, making sure that everyone more talented than you is punished. Well that bullshit ends right here, right now. Because I’m going to expose you, Orlando. Yes, that’s right, I’m going to clue these people in. Their eyes are going to be opened if I have to use duct tape to do it.

Orlando: And how do you plan on accomplishing this my schizophrenic lil’ buddy?

Christian: Simple. I’ve come out here to beat you to the punch, to get right to it, to skip over weeks upon weeks of screw job after screw job, and let you FIRE ME!

The fans didn’t think Savior was serious about his comments last week but now they realize he doesn’t have a foot in his mouth, no matter how foul his breathe may be.

Christian: Go ahead, Orlando, get it over with. I’ll make it easy for you, I won’t put up a fuss. I won’t fight you, I won’t even have my lawyer file a lawsuit for wrongful termination or sexual harassment, nadda! This is your chance Orlando, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. Go on and do it, DO IT, show these people what you really are! Abuse your power, use your stroke, and play politics like you’ve done throughout your entire career. FIRE ME!

Instead of following orders, considering that Orlando has never responded well to authority, the Icon leans casually against the ropes and debates the proper course of action.

Orlando: Well you’ve caught me at quite the Catch-22 here. Either I show that I’m an ineffective boss and let you get away with spearing me last week, or I fire you, and come off as a corrupt bureaucrat no better than Douglas.

Savior: Stop playing around and axe me, Orlando. You know you’ve been wanting to do it ever since I stepped foot in an IWC ring and did what you couldn’t, ENTERTAINED the fans.

Once again the crowd isn’t in agreement.

Cruze: I’ll tell you this much, Christian, your offer is tempting. Logically you’ve given me little room to wiggle, as a boss who has been struck by his employee, I have the right to fire you, and Robin.

Christian: Then get on with it, send us both packing to protect your golden boy. But realize that when you utter those two “magical” words, you’ll be throwing away any credibility you had left, you’ll be flushing your legacy down the toilet…..

“The Game”

Just when the crowd began to toy with the idea that there couldn’t possibly be anymore ego on the stage, Robin Brooks emerges and proves them wrong. With Submission Title draped over her shoulder Brooks quickly rushes towards Christian, grabbing the mic out of his hand before he could utter another word.

Brooks: What the hell is wrong with you?

She is so panicked her entire body is blushing. Her eyes are wider than dinner plates and focused on an apathetic Savior.

Robin: Are you out of your gord? You don’t speak for me mister. No, no, nooooo!

The Black Widow shifts her panic stricken eyes to the intrigued Icon.

Brooks: Orlando, I have you know that this man does not represent me. Unlike Christian, my actions last week were not the result of some well orchestrated plot. I have a serious medical issue that caused me to regrettably hit you with the Spider Bite…

Now Orlando is more intrigued than ever, watching as Brooks turns her back to him, grabs an eyedropper from her pocket and drips some water into her pupils. She spins around quickly to make it appear that she’s weeping.

Robin: Unfortunately you caught me right in the middle of a terrible hormonal imbalance.

Mark: Oh for crying out loud….

Nobody is buying this crock, including Orlando, who gives Robin a dismissive wave.

Brooks: The last couple of weeks my hormones have been completely out of whack. To be honest, it’s made my life a living hell. I’ve woke up in buckets of sweat, followed by extreme chills, I’ve been snapping at even my dearest, closest friends. I even tried to strangle Katie Steward to death because her feet were smaller than mine. I kicked my poor little yorkie Faith because I thought she was looking at my engorged tits. I’ve just….I’ve just….been miserable.

She tries to produce real tears to make herself even more sympathetic. Even Savior can’t take much more of this, obvious by the palm engulfing his shaking face.

Robin: So you see, Orl….Mr. Cruze….

Her attempts to endear herself to the President fail.

Brooks: I cannot be held liable for my actions last week, and if you terminate me then I will have a legal basis to sue for…..

Orlando: Whoa, hold it, I didn’t say anything about firing you.

Relief sweeps over Robin, who drops the act, looking less and less like an emotional train wreck. Christian however isn’t pleased at all.

Cruze: But in saying that it doesn’t necessarily mean either of you will still have a job by the end of the night.

The relief fades and is replaced once again by cold sweats.

Orlando: You see, unlike certain “power hungry dictators”….

Christian doesn’t take lightly to his words coming out of Cruze’s mouth, knowing full well they’ll be used against him.

Cruze: I’m all about empowerment. I think I’ve demonstrated that with my King for a Day concept, haven’t I?

The crowd applauds and confirms Orlando’s suspicions as he turns from side to side to gauge their reactions.

Orlando: So I tell you what Ro….Mrs. Brooks, and Mr. Savior, I’m going to let the two of you decide whether you leave here tonight still employed or not.

While Brooks shows interest, Christian refrains from showing anything.

Cruze: All you two have to do in order to keep your jobs is tell me…..

For once Brooks and Christian share a common reaction, confusion.

Orlando: If you tell me who is responsible for the attacks on Kingdom, Cagero and Porno Lad, I might be more inclined to keep you around. So what do you say? Do either of you have something you would like to get off your chests?

Neither individual is entirely forthcoming. They remain tight lipped.

Orlando: Hmmm, that’s a shame. I guess you leave me no other alternative. I’m making a slight tweak to your tag team match against the Empire. Should either you, Robin, or you, Christian, be pinned or forced to tap out, then the both of you WILL be FIRED!

A reaction so loud it could be heard on Pluto results from this blockbuster announcement. Brooks’ jaw has dropped to her feet while Christian only grins, mouthing the words “told ya so” to the fans.

Cruze: And then we’ll see just how in control of your hormones you truly are Robin, and if Christian really is willing to sacrifice himself for his beliefs.

The polar opposite reactions from Brooks and Christian continue.

Orlando: So I guess what I’m saying is that your fate is in YOUR hands.

He tosses the mic to the canvas, having said his peace as his entrance music hits the PA system. Christian and Robin turn towards one another, Brooks as white as a ghost and Christian smirking wider than the planet earth.

Mark: Huge, HUGE change just made to the scheduled tag team match later tonight. The careers of Robin Brooks and Christian Savior will be on the line when they face the Empire. This may very well be the last time that we see them in an IWC ring again.

Susie: Remind me to steal a lock of Christian’s hair then. I bet it’s as strong as Superman’s, ie it can hold a metric ton yet be cut simply with a pear of household scissors.

Mark: Is this the end for Robin and Christian? We’ll find out TONIGHT.

Christian and Robin continue to make eye contact, wondering what they can expect in a match that now has major ramifications.

TO A HEAD

The camera zooms in tightly on the X-Class Title belt before providing a wide angle view of the man apathetically wearing it. Simon Cagero, THE most controversial competitor on the entire IWC roster is obviously making the long walk towards his first title defense.

Comeau: Ladies and gentlemen, when we return to Riot! we’re going to see THIS man defending his X-Class gold. It’s going to be Simon Cagero in a triple threat bout. Don’t go anywhere.

Moore: I can’t, my foot is chained to the chair.

Despite knowing what lies ahead, Cagero seems at peace, as relaxed as a man lounging on the beach.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

The Greatest Wrestling Music Video of All Times

SIMON CAGERO © VS. KATELYN BUEHLER VS. MAX CRAVEN

Suddenly, the lights dim down, and are replaced with a dark red. The words "Wasted" Appear on the video tron as it flickers to life, as "Pardon Me" by Staind starts to play.

I'm One Step
From A Breakdown
Two Steps From
Being Safe
Just Try To
See This Through
I'm Three Steps
From This Nightmare
And Four Steps
From The Door
The Rest Is
Up To You

"LAAAAAADIIIIEEEESSSS AND GENTLEMEN!"

A voice comes over the music, as the crowd gets to their feet. Simon Cagero walks out from the backstage, holding a microphone and the X-Class Championship.

"ARE WE READY?!"

He belts out into the microphone, before looking around to all the fans

"To get..."

The smile on his face broadens, as all the lights dim down.

"A LITTLE WASTED?!"

The rampway lights up with a string of pyro that spells out 'W-A-S-T-E-D" Simon looks around, before starting his way down to the ring

Pardon Me While I
Just Turn My Back
And Walk Away
Pardon Me If I
Can't Listen
To The Things
You Say

Pardon Me If I
Can't Fake This
While You Still Believe
Pardon Me

To the apron leaps Cagero with a smile on his face and his newly won title held high above his head.

Mark: A big, HUGE start to tonight’s edition of IWC Riot!, Simon Cagero headed straight for the ring, X-Class Title in tow.

Susie: I don’t know which one is a bigger pre-Madonna, Simon, because he’s so awesome, or the title, because it’s so sparkly.

Comeau: That doesn’t make either of them a pre-Madonna, but it does make you a blithering idiot. Simon is going to be putting that belt on the line in just a few moments when he faces not one, but TWO challengers. Will he walk into the Overbooked Extravaganza with that X-Class Title, and more importantly, if he loses it tonight, will his team still be part of the Tag Gauntlet?

Simon continues to show off the very first title that he’s won since returning to the IWC several months ago. He flicks away any lint that may have gathered on the belt, making sure that his reflection in the gold is unblemished. “Hollywood Whore” breaks into this cleaning ritual and forces Simon’s gaze to transfer from the belt to the stage. Occupying the ramp is Katelyn Buehler, but she hasn’t come alone. The massive BFG steps out right behind her, watching Buehler’s back as they proceed towards the ring. Simon scratches at the back of his head, wondering what effect Katelyn’s bodyguard will have on this encounter.

Mark: I don’t think Katelyn Buel….I mean, Parkwood, likes coming out to that Hollywood Whore entrance theme, but I do think that she likes having BFG coming out alongside her. It definitely tips the scales in her favor.

Susie: BFG would tip any scale, he weights like a metric ton. He’s so fat I bet he eats once a week.

Comeau: For someone who isn’t bulimic, that’s not a big deal.

Simon clearly doesn’t like BFG’s presence, due to both the advantage it gives Buehler and the smell. Katelyn is already teasing the champion by motioning to her plus sized bodyguard at ringside, where BFG is cracking his knuckles in anticipation.

Buehler: That’s right handsome, that’s my pit-bull at ringside, and I’m holding the leash. Yummy.

Strangely Cagero doesn’t loose his smile, although he is slightly bothered by the walking VD clinic making generic overtures. The reason he remains so calm in the face of this two on one threat is represented by the big man currently making his way down the ramp. With trash-can flung over shoulder Too Magnificent waltzes towards the ring in his street gear, not dressed for a match, but more than ready for a war.

Mark: Simon is nobody’s fool. He’s the complete antithesis of you, Susie.

Moore: Antithesis? I have you know that I only occasional go both ways, Mark. Don’t label me.

Comeau: That’s not even close to what antithesis means. You know, you would think I’d learn my lesson about using big words with multiple syllables in your presence by now.

Susie: Syllables? Yeah, that’s my favorite type of cereal.

Mark: Too Magnificent on his way to the ring to give Simon some much needed back up should problems arise in this triple threat title bout.

Wisely BFG extends his palms like they were olive branches, not looking for a fight but having no problem giving Too Magnificent the impression he can handle him should one break out. Too Magnificent is not shaken, or stirred, by the look in BFG’s eyes, taking his place on the opposite side of the ring. Buehler is already shaking her head, the N.H.B Champion enraged that the numbers have suddenly turned and balanced.

The space at ringside continues to fill when ¬¬¬Church of Hot Addiction explodes over the PA system. Craven wastes little time in reaching the stage, Rick-Rohl trailing right behind him.

Mark: And Craven smart enough to bring some backup as well. Having these three goliaths at ringside is like lighting the wick on a powder-keg.

Moore: Why is that fun? Are clowns going to pop out of the keg and make me balloon animals?

Comeau: No, it’s going to explode.

Susie: *gasp* Those poor clowns.

The second challenger for the title is no stranger to either the X-Class Title, or the Brat Pack’s shady tactics, he knew full well that the assistance of Rick-Rohl would be required. As Craven ascends the turnbuckle, removing his bandanna and tossing it into the crowd, Rick takes his place at ringside, exchanging intermittent glances with Too Magnificent and BFG.

Mark: A very tense situation here in the ring and outside of it as Riot! gets underway on our go home show before the Overbooked Extravaganza.

Susie: Really? We can leave then? But wait, I ain’t got nowhere else to go. Except for Chucky Cheeses.

Just as the three men at ringside exchange awkward stares, so to do the athletes assembled in the ring. Max, Buehler and the Champ kneel in anticipation of the bell chiming. The moment the bell rings to symbolize the start of what promises to be a chaotic X-Class Title bout, Buehler does what she does best…..weeeellll, the other thing she does best…..she leaps towards the ropes and tries to run for the hills.

Neither Cagero nor Craven are falling for her strategy, and Too Magnificent doesn’t so much as allow her to fully exit the ring. The second he takes a step towards her, Buehler begins to re-enter the ring where she’s grabbed by the hair and stood up straight.

With her back wedged to the ropes she’s easy pickings for a series of knife edge chops from BOTH competitors.

Mark: Craven and Cagero double teaming Katelyn.

Susie: They make a greater team than Burt and Ernie. Only, I don’t think they sleep together.

One chop hits Buehler’s over-inflated bosom, then another, delivered by two different sets of hands. Craven tees off then Cagero, the two working together like lumberjacks to break down a redwood, or in this case, to pop an implant. Finally Simon takes the weeping N.H.B Champion by the wrist and sends her off across the ring.

She bounces from the ropes and comes back in at Simon who catches her by the leg and drops back into the flapjack. Katelyn’s ribs collide with the top rope, leaving her strewn over them just as Craven rushes across the apron and delivers a basement dropkick to her temple.

The stiff blow has clearly rattled Buehler’s brain, causing her to stagger like an inebriate right into the waiting arms of the Champion. Simon catches her under the armpits and then delivers the reverse Russian leg sweep, driving Katelyn’s surgically perfected face into the canvas.

Once her head bounces from the ring and she rolls to her back, BFG springs into action, coming to the aid of his new employer. He climbs up onto the apron only to see Rick-Rohl moving in to block him. The obstacle Rick-Rohl creates proves to be a hurdle that BFG isn’t ready to leap.

Mark: Rick-Rohl preventing BFG from interfering in this X-Class Title bout, where it looks like Katelyn Buehler is going to be made quick work of. For all intensive purposes this is a handicap match, both Cagero and Craven’s only concern seems to be ensuring that nobody in the Brat Pack walks away with that X-Class Title.

Moore: Good, they already wear too much bling as it is.

Within seconds of shattering Buehler’s face, Simon is on top of her, hooking one leg. The Champion is already on the verge of retaining his title as the ref’s hand comes down to the canvas.

1

Craven makes sure that Simon’s night is spoiled when he pulls Cagero off of the cover. Once again Simon moves with blinding speed, nipping to his feet and coming nose to nose with the former X-Class Champion. The two start in with an obligatory war of words, tension already starting to mount between them.

Mark: I said it before, I said it again, Craven is nobody’s sucker. He may want to punish Buehler, but he wants that X-Class Title just as bad, maybe even worse.

Susie: I guess from in the right lighting that belt can be awfully sexy.

Comeau: And the only light you’d be sexy in are shadows.

A screaming Buehler attempts to make good on the escalating tension between distracted opponents. Of course her battle-cry gives her away, which results in a failure to connect with a stereo lariat. Both arms are caught and Katelyn is sent flipping forward via a double hip toss.

She crashes into the canvas and rolls across it till she reaches the apron. There she lies, recovering with kidneys burning from the pain. No time is given at all for Buehler to lick her wounds because like a feral beast Too Magnificent throws aside inhibitions and pounces on her.

Instead of mangling the beauty with the trash-can over his shoulder, he simply wedges a palm to her back and shoves her into the ring.

Katelyn rolls to the center of which and sits up just in time for Craven to grab Cagero by the wrist and whip him towards her. Simon charges in and delivers a knee strike with even more momentum than ever before thanks to the assist. As he staggers into the ropes and leans against them, he’s unaware that Katelyn has fallen victim to a standing moonsault from Craven.

Once Max collides with Buehler’s traumatized body he hooks the leg looking for the win and the title.

Mark: Now it’s Max trying for the quick win.

Susie: Yay, extra times for our bathroom breaks. Now I can take a bubble bath instead of a regular one. I even bought Captain Quacks with me.

The rubber ducky is of no concern to anyone but Susie, even as she squeaks it towards the microphone. Meanwhile, in the ring, Craven finds himself on the verge of title prominence.

1

2

This time it’s the Champion who intervenes, dragging Max off of the cover. Like Simon, Max springs to his feet, and finds himself once again face to face with Cagero. The two put their wits to the test instead of their physical abilities, exchanging back and forth insults until finally words fail to sting. It comes down to Max leaping into the air and catching Simon under the jaw with a spinning back kick to finally shut him up.

The strike has sent Cagero collapsing into the ropes before spilling through to the apron. If it weren’t for him hooking the middle rope with his forearm he surely would have fallen to the mats and fallen victim to BFG. Like a hungry dog loitering around a table and waiting on the falling scraps, BFG eagerly anticipates getting his hands on any opponent that ends up in his vicinity.

Mark: BFG trying to get involved this time. I know this situation with all three of these guys at ringside is just seconds from exploding.

Susie: Thank God that my bones are made of adamantium then.

Comeau: I’d correct you, but I would find it funnier to watch you hurt yourself as you attempt to prove that.

Craven is already starting towards Simon who instinctively bends forward and attempts to drive his shoulder into the ribs of an inbound challenger. Max shows his smarts by side stepping the shoulder and catching Cagero by the neck. Simon fights but its to no avail, he soon finds his ankles propped over the middle rope and his body extended above the canvas.

Instead of going for the DDT though, Craven decides to complicate matters. He turns his back to the prone Cagero and places his jaw over his shoulder, setting up for an elevated Fully Loaded stunner. Just moments before he can connect Buehler swoops in and takes Craven around the neck, ensuring that she caught him with his pants down, as so many women have in the past.

Craven cannot counter being flipped over into the snapmare.

Buehler: HIIIYAAA!

Some of the fans actually shout the battle-cry right alongside Buehler, accustomed to her generic screams. Craven’s bum hits the canvas but he’s only down for a fraction of a second. Like Bruce Banner, he becomes a completely different animal when angered, hulking up as he reaches his feet.

Unfortunately, no matter how much gamma radiation may be flowing through his veins, he’s taken down just like Buehler. Simon has charged up behind Katelyn, caught her in a bulldog and in the process of lunging into the air nails Craven with the lariat.

Mark: I bet Katelyn is regretting saving Cagero now, although I’m sure it was unintentional, she’s paying for that mistake in a big way.

Susie: Just like she’ll be paying for replacement silicon in a big way. Believe me, that stuff is expensive.

Comeau: Oh I would think you’re the foremost expert on that subject.

Now that his opponents have fallen prey to his tandem move Cagero is on the run. He isn’t escaping though, he’s rushing at the nearest turnbuckle, which he ascends to the very top. He takes a moment to stabilize himself, and it’s in this moment that BFG leaps to the apron. His huge palm reaches out for Simon only to have Too Magnificent and Rick-Rohl get involved.

They start towards him and this is just the warning BFG needed to back him off of the X-Class Champion. He retreats with both palms yet again raised in the air, and Rick-Rohl and Too Magnificent slowing their steps. The distraction for Cagero has proven quite costly though, considering that Craven has reached his feet and is now using Buehler as a weapon.

Katelyn is whipped into the turnbuckle that Simon stands on, causing him to loose footing, fall to his seat then find himself hung upside down like a bat. With leg trapped Cagero desperately tries to free himself from the tree of woe, but it’s all in vain.

Max is already leaping into the air and coming down with a hesitation dropkick so beautiful photos of it will be framed and hung above mantles around the world.

Mark: OHHH! Absolute devastation in the form of that hesitation dropkick.

Simon looks as loopy as a man standing in line at a Methadone clinic. He’s as lost as Ann Heche off her medication. Max ascends back to his feet just as Buehler comes rushing in. She operates on instructions from BFG, who probably has even less wrestling experience than she does.

This doesn’t stop Buehler from following his advice, advice that leads her right into a drop toe hold. Craven’s maneuver sends Katelyn’s face falling into familiar territory, a crotch, this time belonging to Simon.

Comeau: OUCH! That’s what you call two for the price of one.

Moore: Looks like Simon is going to need some new silicon too.

Mark: Ummm, I’m pretty sure that they don’t use silicon….why am I even bothering to respond to this?

After getting a face full of Simon’s junk, Buehler falls to her seat with spine pressed to Cagero’s chest. It’s at this moment that Simon comes rushing in and throwing his entire body at both victims with a cannonball splash.

The Manhattan fans are elated as is Craven, who finds himself coming so much closer to reclaiming his title. He rolls back to his knees, grabs Katelyn’s ankles and drags her out of the corner, going for the pin on his weakest opponent.

Mark: This may be it, we may very well be about to crown a new X-Class Champion. Which would mean the belt has changed hands in the last three matches it was defended in.

Susie: Your staggering mathematical abilities astonish me.

The official slips into position and proceeds with the count.

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2

Before the hand can near the canvas and determine the outcome of this fast paced bout, Simon comes flipping off the top rope with a split legged moonsault. He collides ribs first across Max’s upper back, the moonsault effectively breaking up the three count and inflicting damage on both opponents in the process.

Mark: Simon with a well timed and well executed maneuver that served two functions in not only retaining him the belt but also hurting his opposition.

Too Magnificent lowers the trash-can for only a second in order to clap, supporting every single Cagero accomplishment, no matter how miniscule. Instead of going for the cover Simon drags Max to the ring by his chin and places a jab right on that very portion of his anatomy.

The shot seems to be pay back for that spinning back heel kick earlier in the match, but the shot afterwards is done just for fun. The succession of right hands has Max falling into a turnbuckle which now bears all his weight, his legs feeling like jelly, unable to support his body.

Simon begins to stomp away at his mid-section, doing even greater damage to just one of two challengers. Unfortunately for Cagero, he seems to have lost sight of the fact that there are indeed TWO people pursuing his belt. Buehler slips up behind him and delivers the most horrible, eye sore of a dropkick perhaps ever seen. The type of dropkick only seem on 8mm film, the type that would be captured by a photo buried in the dustiest of boxes in the furthest reaches of the darkest basement.

No matter how badly Buehler has botched the dropkick, the move proves effective enough to knock Simon forward into Craven, the two unintentionally headbunting one another.

Mark: Well, she may have just ruined the dropkick for wrestling fans entirely, but at the very least Buehler’s move has taken out both of her opponents.

Susie: She’s taking them both out? Katelyn with TWO men now? Why am I saying that like I’m shocked? She told me she was with a whole basketball team once. No wait, it was a basketball league.

Mark: Even that doesn’t surprise me.

As Simon staggers to the center of the ring Buehler leaps past him straight at Max, the man who has been quite the nagging thorn in the Brat Pack’s side. She seizes him around the neck and now charges out of the turnbuckle in order to hit the KBO. Unfortunately for Buehler she underestimated just how battered Craven truly was.

Max is holding the conjoining top ropes with both hands, keeping from being hit with the diamond cutter. This doesn’t stop Katelyn from desperately pulling on him though until finally Craven releases the cables in order to shove her forward.

Buehler may have been pushed off the KBO but she transitions flawlessly into a leaping Lou Thez Press on Cagero. Both competitors go down and Katelyn is right on top where she proceeds with right after right to the X-Class Champion’s jaw.

Comeau: Thank God, Buehler showing she at the very least has an iota of wrestling talent. My faith in humanity isn’t crushed just yet.

Susie: She’s still a hoe.

Mark: And there it went.

Buehler delivers right after left, hoping to permanently put Cagero down but Max has seen enough. He steps up behind Buehler and hooks her arms, forcing her up to her feet in a full nelson. He then hoists a terrified Katelyn into the air and over his shoulders, holding her in position for the Vertibreaker.

Mark: Oh well, this could be it for Katelyn. At the very least she got in one move tonight. That’s one more than I was expecting.

Just as it seems that Craven has brought this match to an end, BFG starts earning his paycheck. He climbs to the apron, reaches over the ropes and grabs Katelyn’s ankle, pulling on it in order for her to slip free from Craven’s clutches.

Comeau: BFG physically involving himself in this match, and you better believe he’s about to pay for it.

Susie: Good, I hope to torture him he’s put on the Jenny Craig diet.

The moment that BFG drops to the outside he’s spun around and drilled to the jaw with a vicious right hand from Rick-Rohl. The strike sends BFG spinning into another right hand, this one delivered by Too Magnificent.

Mark: And the anarchy is underway at ringside. I told you it was only a matter of time before these three lost their senses.

Susie: BFG’s head is being used like a ping-pong ball. No wait, it be more like a beach ball. Get it, cause he’s fat.

Comeau: Thanks for explaining that one to me, Susie.

Susie: You’re welcome.

The crowd is eating this up like BFG devouring a whole pig, snout included. Inside of the ring the action is just as enjoyable, well for Katelyn at least. She takes advantage of her new positioning by going for a kick between the uprights. Her foot is caught right in Craven’s clutches, denying her the thrill of a punt to the testicles.

Before she can make even one sexual overture Katelyn finds herself being tripped over backwards, her other leg swept from under her. She comes down to her back and Max now rolls her to her stomach and steps over the crease of the knee. The Boston Crab is applied and Buehler looks all but too eager to tap out.

She distracts herself from the pain by watching the hopeless BFG batted around by Too Mag and Rick-Rohl. Their assault with fists only stops because Too Magnificent wishes to continue the onslaught with his trusty trashcan. He heaves it above his head and swings a second too late. BFG, even though he may move in slow motion more often than not, has enough speed to clear out of the way and cause the can to connect with Rick-Rohl’s head instead.

The steel smothers Rohl, who then plummets to the mats like a timbering tree. He collapses to the mats with an otherwise apathetic Too Magnificent standing over him. The referee, for reasons unbeknownst to anyone with a fraction of sanity, involves himself in this melee. He sticks his head through the ropes and chastises Too Magnificent for his use of the very can that has left Rick-Rohl momentarily incapacitated.

Mark: That trashcan just knocked Rick-Rohl out, although he may not have been the target, I don’t think Too Magnificent is going to lose any sleep over this accident.

Official Fitzpatrick has actually exited the ring to check on the condition of Rick-Rohl, foolishly turning his back on the action in the ring. This action continues to sizzle as Craven breaks the Boston crab and turns his attention to the plight of his associate.

He sticks his head through the ropes and reaches out for the man who has assaulted not one, but two of his colleagues in recent months. Max lives to regret allowing his anger to get the better of him when Too Magnificent turns and swings the can right into his skull now.

The shot creates a ripple effect throughout Max’s skin while his body skips across the canvas. He finds himself strewn across his back, barely conscious let alone cohesive.

Mark: Now Too Mag assaulting Craven with that trashcan as well. I wonder if this has anything to do with his issues involving Axl Evermore and the Cartel Title.

Susie: That blasphemous Cartel Title has got it’s hooks into another victim has it?

Fitzpatrick turns after hearing the shot but Too Magnificent has disposed of the evidence, throwing the trashcan into the crowd before he was caught red handed. The referee then focuses his attention on the ring where the opportunistic Buehler has crawled into the lateral press on Craven.

Mark: Oh no, not this way, not this way. Don’t tell me Buehler is actually going to hold more gold.

Susie: PSSS-AH! No way that’s fair. I don’t even have one title to play with.

The crowd is screeching like they were eagles shot in mid-flight. Their heart beats race as Fitzpatrick slides back into the ring and proceeds with the count.

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The fans are all but sure that Craven’s X-Class Title hunt has been cut short up until Cagero dives into the fray breaking up the count.

Mark: Simon saving his X-Class Title, coming in out of nowhere to stop the pinfall. Shooo.

At last the fans can breathe easy again, falling into their seats and watching as Cagero rises to his feet and stomps away at the back of Buehler’s head. After delivering several shots he now proceeds towards the ropes, slipping through them to the apron and grabbing the top cable.

Comeau: Simon’s got something high risk in store to dazzle us all.

Moore: He already dazzles me, just look at that hair.

The referee’s attention is diverting to the outside of the ring once a cocky Too Magnificent turns in time to be leveled with a flying shoulder block by Rick-Rohl.

Mark: Did you see that!?! Rick-Rohl just threw HIMSELF into Too Magnificent. You don’t see agility like that very often from men his size.

Susie: I know how agile he is, Mark. Obviously you’ve never watched him work a pole before.

Comeau: And God willing I never will.

While Fitzpatrick shouts at the distracting brawlers at ringside, Simon springs to the top rope behind him and takes flight. He soars with a crossbody straight at Buehler who is suddenly pushed aside by her bodyguard. BFG catches Cagero across his chest then plants him to the canvas with a huge powerslam, dropping all his weight across the Champion’s ribs.

Mark: BFG just assaulted Cagero, he drove him to the canvas, he….he….he’s BLATANTLY interfering and the ref can’t do anything about it because he’s too tied up with Rick-Rohl and Too Magnificent.

All the energy, all the pep, all the strength has been taken out of Simon’s crippled body. He writhes on the canvas as BFG drags Buehler by her wrist and places her arm across his chest. The fans find themselves physically ill as BFG shouts at the official and alerts him to the pinfall.

Despite being confused by how this pin came about Fitzpatrick drops and makes the count.

Mark: I can’t believe this…Buehler winning the title by way of interference yet again.

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The crowd cannot bring themselves to watch.

3!

A new X-Class Champion has been crowned….hold that thought….now it’s Craven who drops a forearm to the back of Buehler’s head and breaks up the three count a fraction of a second before it could be completed.

Mark: Simon coming within seconds….seconds…..of being pinned by Katelyn for the title. Can security PLEASE come out here and remove these three men from ringside already?

Susie: I think it’ll take more than security. They should have some genetically enhanced super apes come out here and remove these three, then they should give them their own TV show.

Mark: Judging by what we’ve seen tonight I think there are already enough apes on television.

Like wild animals BFG and Rick-Rohl fight for territory at ringside. The two charge at one another and immediately cut loose with right hands to one another’s jaws to an explosive ovation.

Mark: These two yet again going at it on what has been a WILD start to tonight’s Riot!

Susie: Someone splash some cold water on them.

The rights from BFG have Rick-Rohl staggered, the former dancer still reeling from that blow via a trashcan. That is until he delivers a swift kick to his rival’s blubber, doubling BFG where he’s taken by the cranium and slapped face first off of the nearby ring stairs.

BFG stands up with glazed eyes, drool seeping from the corners of his mouth as his rotund frame backs into the barrier. The moment his gelatinous bottom connects with the barrier, Rick-Rohl charges in and clotheslines him over into the crowd.

Mark: Just like last week it appears that this brawl between Rick-Rohl and BFG is spilling over into the crowd, these two really, reeeeaaally hate each other.

For once Mark’s speculation is right on the money, Rohl stepping over the barrier and going after the behemoth.

Comeau: It’s almost like we’re watching two matches in one right now.

Moore: Oh no, it’s already hard enough to stay interested in one match.

Inside of the ring Craven has Buehler in his clutches and looks to exact some revenge. He pulls her up to her feet when Buehler lunges at his eyes, raking them viciously. Max stumbles, reaching for his corneas which may be badly damaged by this intentional eye gouging.

Buehler looks to capitalize on the fruits of her labors by lunging into the air for the Lou Thez Press. Instead of connecting with one of five moves she’s competent enough to pull off, Max catches her under the thighs and throws her up onto his shoulders.

Mark: Buehler about to wish she had never won that X-Class Title contenders match.

Susie: And I’m about to wish they had never changed the opening theme song to Power Rangers, it was just so damned catchy.

The crowd is anxious to watch Katelyn take the fall as Max rushes across the canvas and delivers a sit-out powerbomb. Buehler’s body implodes against the canvas as Max leans forward into the creases of her knees, all but assured that victory at this point is a certainty. He can already feel the phantom sensation of gold around his waist.

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A fraction of a second before hand connects with canvas, Cagero dives into a twisting European Uppercut to the back of Max’s head and saves his championship.

Mark: Cagero with the save. He’s come so close to losing his title a few times in what has been a nail bitter of a bout.

Susie: I don’t bite my nails, I hire someone to do that for me.

With Max gripping at the back of his neck and Simon rubbing at his wounded bicep, the two men start towards their feet and once again start in with an exchange of right hands. Max stops this exchange of shots with an attempted jumping back heel kick that this time fails to connect.

Simon steps behind his back, catches both arms then tries to drag his opposition down into the backslide. Remarkably Craven shows his tremendous flexibility, acquired after years of being in the adult film industry, and flips over Simon’s back, landing on his feet right in front of the champion.

Cagero is just as dazed by the move as the jumping knee strike that nails him straight to the jaw. The shot is stiffer than Simon after watching an episode of the Hills. He goes spiraling into the cables, which function as a crutch to support him while Max prepares to capitalize on this advantage.

Mark: Craven behind the wheel.

Moore: I bet he could steer without using his hands or his knees, instead he just puts to use another part of his anatomy. Te-he-he-he, that sounded dirty.

Mark: Yes, almost as dirty as your vagina.

Susie: HEY! I wash it….occasionally.

That unexpected shot from the knee has the X-Class Champion on the fence, an electrified one that poses great harm at that. Max moves in to electrify the fans, stepping by Buehler, who on instinct lunges from the canvas forearm first into Craven’s crotch. Her hand seemed drawn to his testicles, go figure, and as a result Max finds himself doubled over.

The referee, who actually saw this treachery for once, instead of having his mind elsewhere, jumps down Katelyn’s throat deeper than any……you can finish that thought.

Mark: Buehler with ANOTHER shot below the belt. What is this? The Attitude Era?

Max feels like his penis has been driven up into his body as he doubles over and protects his crotch. His positioning couldn’t be anymore perfect for Simon who swoops in, traps him around the neck then delivers the Break the Silence. Max’s face is planted into the canvas and his body flips to its side where he lays comatose on the canvas.

Comeau: And now the Break the Silence! Buehler may have cost Cagero the X-Class Title entirely.

After having his face crushed against the canvas Craven finds himself powerless to prevent the pin. Simon hooks both legs while Katelyn crawls into a corner, no longer even caring about winning the title, more obsessed with self preservation at this point.

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While some fans cheer for Simon and his successful title defense, others boo at the sight of their hometown hero Max being pinned. Regardless, the crowd is unanimous in their pleasure that Buehler didn’t leave with the gold.

Mark: And Simon retains the X-Class Title in spite of all the shenanigans in the ring and outside of it. He really had to fight to keep that belt in his possession.

Moore: But it was all worth it in the end, because now he finally has something to hold his pants up.

PLEASE LEAVE A MESSAGE

The weary Cagero rolls across the ring towards the nearest set of cables, which he takes hold of in an attempt to reach his feet. He isn’t aware of what Too Magnificent is currently up to. The big man is right on top of the still incapacitated Craven, wedging his foot to Max’s throat and choking the life out of him.

Mark: This isn’t called for, Cagero has already won, this is pointless. Get out of the ring Too Magnificent.

Susie: And don’t forget your trashcan, something tells me it would be really lonely without you. Even when Pat Evans tries to sleep in it.

Too Magnificent does not adhere to the advice of either Susie or Mark, he continues to strangle the life from Max’s already traumatized body by continuing to stand on his throat. He slowly bends forward so that he’s positive Craven can hear every syllable that he utters.

Too Magnificent: You’re gonna be my little messenger. I want you to tell Axl that he is NOT going to be the next Cartel Champion, I am.

The demented goliath continues his crazed speech with Max being his unwilling audience. Unlike last week Rick-Rohl does not come to Max’s aid, instead he’s exchanging shots with BFG as the two once again brawl through the screaming crowd. Therefore Craven will have to count on the aid of another.

Too Magnificent: I’m gonna pin Psycho at the Overbooked Extravaganza. I’m gonna take back MY title. Then I’m gonna tell everyone the truth that he’s tried to hide for so long…

Before his thought could be completed, Too Magnificent finds himself victimized by way of a two on one assault. Riggs and Psycho discreetly made their way down the ramp, bent forward in an attempt to remain stealthy. They then slid into the ring while Too Mag was completely preoccupied with his delusional ramblings, unfortunately not possessing eyes in the back of his head.

Mark: So much for hearing the truth, or at least Too Magnificent’s version of it, because he’s being mauled by two of his opponents at the Overbooked Extravaganza. The very man he holds some secret over and the painted warrior.

Too Magnificent is knocked to his knees by a lariat to the back of his skull from the Cartel Champion. The more that he’s forced to hear Too Mag speaking, the less in control of his emotions Psycho becomes. He’s now putting the boots to the back of Too Magnificent’s head, and Riggs is quick to join in on the fun.

Mark: Too Magnificent is getting his comeuppance for his involvement in that triple threat, suffering a serious beat-down at the hands of the recently reunited Riggs and Psycho. Of course the motivation behind their reunion still remains a mystery to us all.

Moore: In order to solve that mystery I suggest employing both Scraggy and Scooby Doo. But not Velma, she’s no fun, and she wears glasses, YUCK.

Simon heroically throws himself into the middle of this mayhem, forearm connecting straight to Riggs’ temple. For once Cagero is not defending himself against Riggs, no, this time he’s going on the offensive. Riggs has every intention of victimizing him though, which is part of the reason he was drawn to the ring in the first place.

Mark: This is turning into a pier six brawl ladies and gentlemen.

Susie: Why do so many brawls happen on piers? Is it because all of the sailors are jealous of each other’s striped shirts and festive white berets?

Mark: Do you base everything off of cartoons?

Moore: Just about. Except for sex, I learn that from watching commercials.

Comeau: Interesting.

For some reason, unbeknownst to anyone with a grain of logic, Buehler leaps at Psycho, trying to take him down. Unfortunately her attempt to get payback on the men who saved AWOL from the Brat Pack last week goes horribly awry. Her head is engulfed in the massive palms of Psycho, who rears back his cranium and drives it straight into the N.H.B Champion’s skull, perhaps cracking it in two like it were an egg.

Buehler hits the canvas and is out like a light. But the momentary distraction that she posed proves quite costly considering that it leaves Psycho susceptible to a chop block by Too Magnificent. He drives his shoulder into the back of Psycho’s knee and takes his leg out from under him.

Mark: Buehler may not have done much, or any, damage to Psycho, but it did take his eyes off the ball and now he’s going to pay for it dearly.

Simon and Riggs continue their exchange of shots, finding this series of blows to be a far less healthy release of stress than therapy. Although in retrospect it’s probably much less time consuming, as it only takes Riggs a matter of moments to block one of Simon’s rights and deliver a shot that all but debilitates the already weary X-Class Champion.

Riggs literally has Cagero on the ropes as Simon backs into the cables, leaning on them spine first and falls prey to a series of boots and jabs from his remorseless rival. After just defending his title in a grueling three way, Simon is incapable of mounting much in the way of a defense against his far fresher adversary.

Comeau: Riggs is just all over Cagero. Over the past few months these two have built up such an intense rivalry and we’re seeing it erupt before our very eyes here tonight.

Moore: Your eyes maybe, mine are watching that fat cameraman’s bottom jiggle.

Mark: That would actually be a far more productive use of your time than commentating.

Susie: I agree, and much more fun.

It isn’t until Too Magnificent charges up behind Riggs that his fists stop connecting with Simon’s face. Now they begin drilling Too Mag to the skull instead, sending him reeling in reverse, desperately trying to maintain his footing.

Riggs has transitioned perfectly from one rival to the other, seemingly having a sixth sense. One individual who doesn’t possess such an uncanny awareness is Psycho, who is now falling victim to the opportunistic Katelyn. The N.H.B Champion has crawled to his side and is drilling her Cartel Title holding rival to the forehead with punch after punch.

Mark: This has basically turned into a three on two fight at this point, although I don’t think Cagero and Too Magnificent would ever willingly work with Buehler.

Susie: Who would, except for her gynecologist.

Just as the tide seems to be changing in the ring with Riggs now falling prey to the superior numbers of his rivals, the crowd explodes much like the fire erupting from the stage. Down the ramp runs none other than AWOL, nightstick in hand and the most menacing of menacing gleam in his eyes.

Mark: AWOL! AWOL on his way to the ring. What is going on!?!

Chants of AWOL’s name already begin filtering through the lips of the rabid audience, who watch as the Big Crazy Bastard slips through the ropes. His motives become much clearer once he charges at Buehler, who screams before bailing from the ring.

Mark: AWOL coming straight after Katelyn Buehler. He wants to rip apart each member of the Brat Pack one after another.

Susie: If he’s starting with Buehler, I would seriously suggest using some hand wipes before moving onto the others. He’s going to seriously need to be disinfected.

After clearing Buehler from the ring AWOL transfers his attention to Cagero and Too Magnificent who bail quicker than politicians from the GOP. Their timely departure is much to Simon’s credit, sparing his team from the possibility of injuries no matter how badly Too Magnificent wants to get back in there and wrap his hands around AWOL’s throat. Cagero pats him on the shoulder, ensuring his partner that there’s always later tonight in the Mini-Rumble.

Thanks to their absence from the ring now only three men remain on the canvas, AWOL, Psycho and Riggs. The Sadistic One rises to his feet and immediately makes eye contact with the Big Crazy Bastard. It’s almost as if his gaze is drawn to his former mentor, and he now finds himself unable to look away. Riggs suffers the same condition, his attention gravitating towards the man who took him under his wing several years ago.

The crowd finally clues in to what just transpired in the ring, AWOL actually having come to the aid of his former pupils.

Comeau: Hold on one second here. Did AWOL come out to the ring to get his hands on Buehler, or did he come out here to help Riggs and Psycho? This is certainly open to debate in my book.

Susie: I bet your book is just full of nothing but naked ladies. My book however, is full of collages and animal stickers. Therefore, I thus decree that my book is 100 times better than yours.

Mark: That’s open to debate as well, almost as open to all the speculation we’ll no doubt hear after this latest twist in the whole AWOL, Psycho, Riggs saga.

The very tense stare-down between AWOL and his former pupils persists, the crowd questioning the intentions of all three men. Far more fuel has been thrown on the flames of this mystery, giving the fans much more evidence to base an opinion off of. As of now they keep their opinions behind clinched teeth, and just watch as the surreal scenes unfold in the ring.

Individuals like Max Craven, who is seated with his back propped to the barricade, Simon Cagero, who is stepping up the ramp, Too Magnificent, who is cursing AWOL’s name, and Katelyn Buehler who is fleeing from the stage to the backstage area, have all made up their minds however.

Mark: There has to be something to the rumors that these three men are in cahoots with one another…

Jackson: My oh my….here we go again.

Dejection is heard loud and clear from a crowd so thoroughly repulsed by Jackson Adams that they find themselves now in desperate need of some Pepto Bismol. Making matters all the more worse for the crowd, and their agitated stomachs, is the realization that Jackson Adams is acting King for a Day, meaning they’ll be seeing him far more throughout the remainder of the evening. Despite their over active gag reflex they remain seated instead of fleeing to the bathroom as Adams saunters to the stage.

Mark: And there he is, unfortunately, tonight’s acting King for a Day, Jackson Adams. I knew it was asking too much for us to go through at least one segment of the show without having to see his face on camera.

In spite of a reaction that borders on homicidal, Adams is undaunted, speaking into the microphone with his usual brand of smarmy confidence.

Adams: Here we go again, another clusterfuck, another donnybrook, another lame attempt to build suspense and interest around anything that involving Psycho. We all know that’s an exercise in futility. Oh, sorry Psycho, exercise is something people do to get in shape….

The obligatory boos are heard from the crowd, which only increases Jackson’s arrogance. All the while Psycho’s eyes are drawn to his love handles.

Jackson: Some people exercise their arms by lifting weights, others their legs by running, and in Katelyn’s case, she exercises her gag reflex by shoving things down her throat. But that’s a story for the pages of Penthouse forum.

There are surprisingly quite a few chuckles from the fans at this point.

Adams: Last time I checked there might be a bunch of whores running around here, and a lot of people involved in the adult film industry, but this is no porno magazine….although if it were, I’d probably take far more interest in my job….my point is, this is wrestling, nothing more, nothing less. This isn’t a Scooby Doo mystery of the week type of show, no matter how many Clue inspired Whodunits we might be subjected to. Frankly, I hate mysteries, no, no, they repulse me almost as much as Buehler is repulsed at the concept of a monogamous relationship. And seeing as I am King for a Day, I have the power to do something about one of these lame mysteries.

The pacing Adams pauses to eye the trio in the ring, neither man taking this revelation very well.

Jackson: Soooo, I’ve reached a few decisions in the short span of time since the show came on the air. Number 1 being that we should get rid of the unisex bathroom, because the sound of Paris Dannon’s bowel movements are just too traumatizing. My second thought was that we should go ahead and give the fans what they tuned in for, my ubber special Jackson Adams Gauntlet CHALLENGE!

Jackson looks towards the heavens, as if that’s where his concept originated from.

Adams: That’s right boys and girls, no more waiting, no more beating around the bush as Psycho does every Saturday night while watching an AWOL promo. Psycho, PAL, your running my gauntlet after the monkeys in the production truck roll the next commercial advertising my ever so affordable merchandise. AAAAND, Riggs, you can go backstage and spend as much time as you want touching up your make-up, because your BARRED from ringside.

If Riggs weren’t agitated enough by the mere sound of Jackson’s voice, now he’s entirely frustrated.

Jackson: But wait kiddies, that’s not all. Your generous King for a Day is going to give you even more bang for your buck. And don’t ask me why my teammates in the Brat Pack pop into my head when I say that. I know, I know, you already feel validated enough having purchased your tickets on the very night where I’m King for a Day, but I’m just such a warm hearted, giving type of guy. I feel you deserve a little bit more. So how about this, how about I spice up my own match and announce that Psycho’s first opponent in the gauntlet, will be……AWOL!

Mark: Whoa!

The crowd cuts loose with the same response, as does AWOL, as does Psycho. The two turn towards one another, now exchanging a stare with entirely different motivations behind them. They break away from one another to stare back up the ramp, growling in the direction of Jackson and picturing the many violent, disturbing ways they could take his life.

Adams: So by the end of this Gauntlet, we’re going to find out one way or another, whether there really is anything between Psycho and AWOL. And you people have ME to thank for it. Your welcome!

Jackson blows a kiss to the crowd who now feel like they need injections of penicillin.

Mark: A major, HUGE bombshell just dropped by Jackson, which will finally end any ambiguity over whether AWOL is in league with Psycho or not. After the break, we’re going to see the Big Crazy Bastard mono-a-mono with the Sadistic Savage.

Susie: This is going to be huge….literally….there’ll be like a metric-ton of man in the ring. Chubby chasers better set their DVRs now.

The crowd is obviously excited, but neither Psycho, AWOL, nor Riggs look very energetic concerning the impending clash between mentor and pupil.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

The Most Sexually Suggestive Segment of All Times

GAUNTLET CHALLENGE PART ONE

The show returns to a sight nobody expected to see, AWOL and Psycho standing mono a mono, vie a vie in preparation for their one on one clash. The bell chimes in the background, officially commencing this clash between goliaths.

Mark: We are back live on Riot! and if your just tuning in my God have you missed an absolutely shocking turn of events. Jackson Adams, acting King for a Day, has forced AWOL to compete against Psycho in the opening round of this Gauntlet Challenge.

Susie: All he had to do was offer AWOL some candy, and I’m sure he would have accepted the match instead of being forced into it.

Comeau: Not everyone is as easily deceived by candy as you are, Susie.

Susie: You have no idea how many windowless vans I’ve been lured into with the promises of Tootsie Rolls. I can’t eat them, but at least I can smell them.

The fans are frothing at the mouths like rabid dogs in anticipation of these two men finally locking up. Now that Riggs has amscrayed from ringside it all comes down to one on one, no outside parties, no walking away, mentor versus pupil.

This realization has not only sunk in on the fans but the two deranged competitors in the ring. Finally it’s AWOL who throws aside all inhibitions, assuming that he possessed any. He steps forward and before Psycho knows what’s what, he and AWOL are tied up in a collar elbow lock. Both men jockey for positioning, one behemoth trying to overpower the other.

This display is an exercise in futility, as neither man possesses the strength to take advantage of the other. In the ring is the textbook definition of the immovable object versus the unstoppable force.

Mark: AWOL and Psycho so equally matched in terms of strength that we could literally be here ALL WEEK and these two would still be locked up jockeying for position.

Susie: Do you think that they get jockeys on lone from Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory? I’ve always wondered about that.

Mark: You’d be the only one.

Not only are these combatants equally as strong but their equally as stubborn, neither one willing to give up. After a few more moments of stalling they break away, step back and give each other an awkward stare. After circling each other, eyeing their prey they lunge forward into yet another collar elbow. This time Psycho has the better footing, allowing him to shove AWOL back first into the turnbuckle.

Mark: Psycho finally overpowering AWOL, pushing him straight into that corner. That’s got to do wonders for the Sadistic One’s ego. Although, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that it seems both men are almost stalling in there against each other. They’re not throwing fists or chops or kicks or anything.

Susie: There’s been more holding in this match than in those internet fetish videos that Porny Porn makes me watch.

Referee Fitzpatrick, given the dubious honor of officiating this match, moves in and starts a five count. He only reaches a count of two before Psycho removes his hands from his mentor’s collar and backs away. Both palms are raised aloft and his head is tilted, wearing a slight grin.

Such a smile offends AWOL, who now seems to be enticed to take Psycho’s head off. He steps out of the corner, through playing games, through with an endless grappling session. With both fists clinched he’s about to swing when from the backstage area a mob of estrogen bearing competitors emerge.

The group is led by a vengeful Buehler, who is closely followed by Paris and Miho.

Mark: The Brat Pack and Miho coming out here AGAIN! Haven’t they learned their lesson yet?

Susie: It takes some people longer to learn than others.

Mark: I’m assuming that your speaking from first hand experience.

Instead of allowing his fists to connect with the Cartel Champion’s face, AWOL’s violence shifts to the encroaching Brat Pack contingent. He side steps Psycho, who was all ready to defend himself, then rolls under the ropes, cutting Buehler off at the pass.

Mark: AWOL conveniently ditching this match to manhandle these three, who have to be looking for revenge against the Big Crazy Bastard for getting involved in Psycho’s beat-down just moments ago.

Before Buehler’s wild right can even hit the air AWOL blocks it and responds with a implant bursting knife edge chop to the chest. She screams and spirals away from the Big Crazy Bastard, who then turns towards Miho, blocking one of her shots and responding with a closed fist to her/his jaw. Paris is next up, but meets with the same results, NOTHING.

A boot to the ribs doubles her over and keeps her back. Instead of lending aid, Psycho watches from the interior of the ring, enjoying the view but not the sound of the official commencing with a ten count. AWOL doesn’t need his help anyway, receiving more than enough aid from his Empire cohorts as Johnny Kingdom and Hurse barrel down the ramp.

Mark: Here come the reinforcements.

Susie: Awww, but their not on horse back. Not fair.

Kingdom gets a hold of Paris, as many a men have tried in the past, but it isn’t affection that he’s looking for. Dannon is spun around and popped under the jaw with a right while Buehler’s hair is snatched hold of by her vindictive ex. Hurse twirls her about and gives her a knee to the ribs for her troubles.

Miho falls prey to AWOL, cheek cracking slaps being delivered to both sides of her face. The Empire has the trio on the fence, with Kingdom and Hurse backing their prey up the ramp where the anarchy eventually spills through the curtains to the backstage area. AWOL is left behind, continuing to deliver blows on a completely dumbfounded Miyazaki.

Comeau: The war between the Brat Pack and the Empire continuing to degenerate further and further into outright chaos. I don’t even know if AWOL realizes that he’s being counted out, or does he?

Moore: I’m not a mind reader. If I were I’d be wearing a cape.

As soon as the official reaches a ten count Psycho feigns disappointment. He looks out over the crowd and simply shrugs with a rather cold grin on his face.

Mark: Well there you have it, AWOL’s been counted out. I guess since none of the Brat Pack members nor Miho actually hit him, Psycho couldn’t be disqualified.

Moore: Thanks for taking a second to explain that, I’m easily confused.

Mark: Yes, and your prone to stating the obvious.

AWOL could care less about being counted out of a match he had no interest in competing in. Right now the only thing that maintains the Big Crazy Bastard’s interest is brutalizing Miyazaki. A knee doubles he/she over and AWOL’s grip on his/her hair allows him to charge her at the ring and roll the tranny under the ropes. After depositing Miyazaki at Psycho’s feet, the Big Crazy Bastard slowly backs up the ramp.

Comeau: What the…now it’s almost as if AWOL just fed Miho to Psycho.

Moore: Ha! Psycho will just be hungry again an hour later.

AWOL and Psycho once again make eye contact as the Big Crazy Bastard backs up the ramp, leaving Miho in the hands of his pupil. The cold grin on Psycho’s face fades as his eyes transfix on the wounded opponent sprawled across the canvas before him.

Miho doesn’t even knows what’s happening as she’s dragged to her feet and drilled to the face with a headbunt. The blow takes her down to the canvas and Fitzpatrick motions for the bell, starting round two of the gauntlet.

Mark: Well Miho was scheduled to be one of Psycho’s opponents in the gauntlet. This might not be how she imagined starting this match off, but she’s in there one way or another. Maybe she’ll think next time she tries to get involved in a match.

Susie: I wouldn’t count on it, thinking is too much work, and it’s painful.

Miyazaki stumbles to her feet where his/her wrist is gripped and he/she is shot off into the ropes. Miho ricochets from the far cables, coming back in at Psycho who wedges both hands to the trannies ribs and tosses Miyazaki up high into the air.

His victim catches tremendous height then comes tumbling down into a European Uppercut. Psycho’s bicep drills Miho under the jaw, almost shattering every tooth in her mouth.

Mark: Good gravy! A gorilla press into the European Uppercut. I’ve only ever seen Psycho use that move once in a Cartel Title bout against Axl Evermore. Speaking of which, I wonder what Psycho thinks of Axl winning the number one contendership at the Cartel Title.

Susie: Again, thinking is too painful, so I doubt he’s given it much thought.

After victimizing an already traumatized Miho, Psycho falls down into the lateral press on top of he/she, looking for a quick win.

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2

In a move that may come back to haunt Psycho, he defiantly breaks his own pinfall attempt. His hands grip Miho’s hair and he pulls her to her seat, that same sickening smile that was seen last week returning to his face. He slowly shakes his head towards the ref, who is actually pleading with him to euphonize his opponent, to get her suffrage over with.

Psycho: That’s too good for anyone who associates with the Brat Pack. So NO!

A chuckle that sounds more like snake’s hiss emits from Psycho as he drags Miyazaki up to her feet. From this standing position Miho’s head is wedged to his shoulder and the crease of his/her leg is hooked. The tranny is raised into the air as Psycho makes several revolutions around the center of the ring then drops back into the Muscle Buster.

The back of Miyazaki’s head has a foul collision with the canvas, her neck possibly fractured upon landing. Unfortunately for Miho, Psycho STILL isn’t satisfied, and won’t be until she’s no more than a bloody stain on the canvas.

Mark: As much as I loathe the Brat Pack and all those in their circle of friends, I think Psycho is going a bit overboard with this beating. Perhaps he’s trying to send a message to AWOL, trying to please him by taking Miyazaki out completely.

Susie: The fastest way to AWOL’s heart would be buying him the entire Hellraiser DVD collection I’m sure. It looks like AWOL is into that type of thing.

Mark: Thanks again for your broad general comments.

Moore: They tickle me too, in places I can’t say on camera.

Miyazaki may be no more than a quivering mess on the canvas, a bag of skin holding powdered bones but Psycho has yet to deliver his most fatal blow. He steps over Miho then proceeds towards the nearest set of ropes, scaling them to the middle cable then launching his body off into the Vader Bomb.

Mark: YOUCH! That looked painful.

If there was anything left of Miho it’s now been literally squashed from her flattened body. One could serve her/him up as a pancake, syrup required. Finally Psycho has had enough playing around with his meal, wedging a forearm to Miyazaki’s face and going for the pin.

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3

Sufficient damage was inflicted to put Miho down and away with a definitive three count.

Comeau: Now Miyazaki eliminated from the gauntlet. Psycho has already went through two opponents, one of them in dominating fashion. He may complete this gauntlet bout in record time, and I think he’s actually enjoying this punishment.

Moore: Why he and Michelle Blacker aren’t an item is beyond me.

Mark: They actually were an item in the past.

Moore: BWUH?

Comeau: My sentiments exactly.

What’s left of Miho is rolled out of the ring and sent spilling to the mats. The road-crew kill will undoubtedly be along shortly to dispatch with her carcass. Psycho looks to add another victim to the pile of bodies, turning his attention to the ramp and licking his chomps in anticipation. There is no rest for the wicked, although the last thing Psycho needs is a breather.

Andy Madrox’s music hits on cue and the newcomer arrives on the stage. The impressive youngster who went toe to toe with Craven and Miyazaki last week now finds himself facing off with an entirely different breed of competitor. Once his eyes connect with the heartless animal’s in the ring, Andy begins to second guess his decision to sign with the IWC.

Mark: It’s at this point that Andy Madrox must be reevaluating his career choices. I don’t think he suspected to be thrown in the fire with one of the most violent opponents on the roster quite this quickly.

Susie: Maybe he can buy Psycho off with foodstamps or something. Although it doesn’t look like Psycho’s skipped a meal in a long time.

Psycho’s gleaming orbs track Andy all the while to the apron where Madrox pauses and attempts to form a strategy. The Sadistic One isn’t waiting, he storms straight towards Madrox, reaches out and wraps both hands about his slender throat. Psycho has yet to gratify his psychotic urges, looking to take another dose and get higher by brutalizing this newcomer.

He hoists Andy into the air, causing him to land feet first on the top rope.

Mark: Psycho about to give Andy a crash course in IWC 101.

A string of four letter obscenities are grumbled by Psycho before Andy slaps both hands away from his throat and lunges from the ropes. He lands on Psycho’s shoulders and shocks him with a hurricarana.

Mark: WHOA! Hey now. I don’t think Psycho was counting on this.

Susie: Yeah, counting is as hard as thinking, so he probably wasn’t counting at all.

The hurricarana has Psycho’s mind going in all different directions, and before he can get back on one straight road another curve is provided the moment Madrox back flips on top of him. The standing moonsault connects straight with Psycho’s chest, Andy delivering the aerial move just as quickly as he rushes to his feet and prepares for another.

He rushes at the nearby cables, leaps to the middle rope and springs off into a twisting leg drop. His thigh connects straight across Psycho’s throat, resulting in an uproar from the rabid audience.

Comeau: Look at this kid go, he’s coming at Psycho from every single direction. The Cartel Champion doesn’t know what to think. I don’t believe he was counting on this type of competition.

Even though he finds it difficult to breathe Psycho is already on his way up. He gets to his feet as Madrox delivers a big shin kick to the crease of his knee. He then delivers another kick to the back of his thigh, trying to cut down Psycho’s height advantage.

The Sadistic One is completely caught off guard by all this explosive offense. Madrox continues to do move quicker than a hiccup, rushing into the nearby ropes, bouncing off then leaping into the air. He nails Psycho with a lariat to the throat but despite the kicks to the big man’s legs he’s not going over.

The sadist may be staggered but he’s still upright.

Mark: Now Madrox has run into the same problem so many others have when facing Psycho, trying to take him off of his feet.

Susie: A few hits of GHB might help. Works on me every time.

Needless to say Andy is both stunned and questioning his strength once he realizes that his opponent is still on both feet. This prompts him to rush into the ropes, bounces off of them and this time throw his whole body at the Cartel Champion. He lands right on top of Psycho’s shoulders and drops back, trying to hit a running hurricarana.

As he falls upside down disaster strikes. He just continues to hang like a lazy bat in a cave, unable to pull his crafty opponent over into the hurricarana takedown.

Comeau: Madrox just found himself in the worse possible position.

Susie: Even worse than waking up in the bed between Billy Mayne and Katelyn Buehler?

Mark: A lot more painful at least.

The unbelievable strength of Psycho is displayed once he lifts Madrox up to his shoulders in a powerbomb position. Andy desperately tries to fight but its to no avail, he can’t block having the back of his head caught and now being forced towards Psycho’s shoulder.

The Champion transitions Madrox from the powerbomb into a Muscle Buster predicament. That’s when Psycho drops and twists Madrox so that he slips from his shoulder and comes crashing down by the back of the neck into the Champion’s raised kneecap.

An audible groan can be heard from the crowd, some going as far as to gasp over this very sickening maneuver, which may have very well cost Madrox his career.

Mark: Good lord no! In only his second match, Madrox’s career may have just been ended.

Moore: At least he’ll always have the memories. He fought a tranny and a porn director in his first match, that’s pretty hard to forget.

Comeau: If one thing can make him forget, it’s moves like these.

Andy sits on the canvas looking about as coherent as a slug. There are no synapses firing in his head, the vacant gleam in his eyes shows that nobody is home. Psycho grabs him by the ears, spins him around to his knees then engulfs his throat with both hands.

Madrox is raised straight from his knees then sent plummeting to the canvas with the Redeemer.

>Comeau: Now the Gonzo Bomb connects and Madrox is as through as yesterday’s garbage.

Susie: I don’t throw out my garbage, instead I use it build forts. But only girls are allowed in my forts, so myeeeh Mark.

Mark: Don’t worry, I would never willingly go into any structure you built.

Madrox’s body is shattered like glass struck with a sledgehammer. He’s got nothing left to kick out of the Sadistic One’s latest kill move. Therefore the Champ tosses both of Madrox’s legs over his shoulders and leans forward into the creases of his knees.

1

2

3

Madrox is out of there!

Mark: And another one bites the dust. Andy had a short, but impressive showing nevertheless against Psycho. He’s done what nobody else has been capable of thus far in this gauntlet, he hit an offensive maneuver.

Susie: He should get a smiley face sticker for that.

Comeau: Actually he’ll probably need bandages before stickers.

Susie: That stinks, bandages aren’t any fun, unless your pretending to be a mummy.

Now it’s Madrox’s lifelessly body being raised from the canvas and thrown through the ropes by Psycho. He swipes his palms together as if he just took out the trash.

Mark: Andy gone, and with Rick-Rohl and BFG brawling God only knows where, who does that leave for Psycho to face next? Is this match already over?

Psycho seems to be asking himself that very question, but neither he nor Mark has to wait long for an answer.

FORCED VOLUNTEER

Steward: Told ya so…

Katie is forced to act as a human crutch for both Paris and Katelyn. Neither lady looks to be in the best shape after their encounter with the Empire. Thankfully security was on hand to break up the brawl that ensued between both groups before any further damage could be inflicted on the duo.

Katie: Didn’t I say going out there was stupid?

Buehler: Yeah, yeah, go ahead and gloat.

Steward: Oh, I intend to.

Katelyn: I stand by my claim that guerrilla warfare is the best tactic. It’s what helped America beat the Mexicans in the war of 1812.

Steward awkwardly blinks her eyes, questioning whether that statement even warrants a correction.

Katie: Actually….

She takes one look at Buehler’s ego bruised, and literally bruised face, then abruptly changes the subject.

Steward: Never mind.

Katelyn: What?

Katie: I was just going to say that between you and Robin I’m starting to feel like a damn triage nurse back here. Not that I wouldn’t look totally hot as a candy striper.

Buehler: I know I do. I wore a nurse uniform last year.

Steward: For Halloween?

Katelyn: No…..because I was paid to. It was this whole roleplaying shtick….

Katie: Explain no more.

Katelyn: Where I dressed as a naughty nurse and the Harlem Globetrotters showed me they were just as magical off the court as on it….

Paris: She said explain no more!

Paris came through just in time to keep herself from upchucking.

Jackson: Well I hope the Globetrotters got more use out of you than the Brat Pack does.

Jackson’s words are just as penetrating as the fists that Buehler was hit with moments ago. This week’s reigning King for a Day is so angry he’s positively animated, flailing his arms all about in a cartoonish, exaggerated fashion.

Adams: What were you thinking? Huh? Huh?

Buehler opens her mouth to defend her actions.

Jackson: It doesn’t matter what you were thinking.

Neither lady enjoys having Adams go all Dwayne Johnson on them, no matter how much they wouldn’t mind having the actual Dwayne Johnson on top of them.

Adams: This type of rebellious behavior cannot be tolerated, Buehler. You have to fall in line and follow orders. You can’t be off doing your own thing, especially when it does damage to MY stable.

Once again the trio of beauties are unanimous in their response, each one equally as outraged by these hypocritical and delusional comments.

Buehler: Look who’s talking.

Jackson: I look at myself plenty, it’s why I carry around this pocket sized mirror.

Katelyn: You’ve been getting the Brat Pack in deep doody time and time again.

Adams: Yes, and I’m sure you’ve been penetrated so deep someone has reached your doody.

Buehler: How dare you!

Jackson does a comical double take with his head, acting as if he couldn’t possibly have heard Buehler correctly.

Jackson: How dare I, how dare I? No, how dare YOU.

Now it’s Buehler doing the double take, mocking Adams’ reaction.

Adams: You purposely went out there with the intention of ruining my master plan, like you’ve ruined so many bed sheets with your hot monkey loving….

Katelyn: All I was doing was trying to take charge and attack AWOL when his guard was down.

Jackson: I didn’t give you permission to do that.

Paris: Why does she need YOUR permission to do anything?

The idea makes Steward scoff.

Adams: Don’t you scoff at me.

A finger wags at the Goddess.

Jackson: This is no way to treat the new leader of the Brat Pack.

Buehler: HA! What makes you think you’re the leader?

Adams: Well, for one, I have a penis, which automatically means I outrank all of you. And secondly, Robin is going to loose her job tonight. So I’m stepping up and stepping into her freakishly huge shoes.

Katie: WHOA!

Steward obviously took offence to that comment.

Adams: Since when did you become Joey Lawrence?

It takes Katie a second to get the reference, but her response is much quicker.

Katie: I’m the one who started the Brat Pack, so if anyone is going to lead the charge here in the IWC, it’s going to be me.

Jackson: Impossible! You don’t even have chest hair. I think.

Paris: Listen, all this arguing is pointless. We can discuss this later, right now I really need to lie down.

Buehler: Same here.

Once again all their weight is placed on Steward’s shoulders as she tries to aid them towards the lockeroom. This is made much more arduous thanks to Jackson, who throws himself in the way like a brick wall.

Jackson: Where do you think your going?

His finger digs into Buehler’s shoulder, almost causing her weak body to fall over.

Katelyn: Uhhh, isn’t it obvious?

Adams: Listen here missy; I don’t care how many sailors are on leave tonight, your not going anyplace…

Buehler: I was actually….wait, there are sailors on leave tonight?

Jackson: Your not gonna find out. Because thanks to your negligence and stupidity Psycho is still standing, AWOL didn’t have the chance to murder him and then parade around wearing his face as a mask.

Katelyn: Isn’t that a little extreme?

Jackson: I don’t know what those type of people do, and it’s not for me to find out. You, however, are going to get very up close and personal with Psycho.

Buehler: Ummm, okay, as long as he wears an extra large condom and a paper bag over his face.

Adams: That’s not what I meant. Since your actions caused BFG and Rick-Rohl to get into a brawl earlier, resulting in them missing this gauntlet, and you lured AWOL out of the ring, your going to be a replacement.

Katelyn: WHAT!?!

Jackson: Your king has spoken, and he decrees that you go out there and face Psycho right NOW!

Buehler: But….but….but….but…but…

Adams: GET!

He motions towards the entry way as Buehler continues to slur her repetitious words, sounding like the engine to a motor boat. Despite her shock and terror she has to get on board and quickly.

GAUNTLET PART TWO

Laughter actually emanates from Psycho, cutting forth with the type of chuckles that would put hives on one’s arms. He is greatly amused by the images on the titantron, the scene that just unfolded backstage.

Mark: I think Buehler just received the worse news of her life.

Susie: They stopped selling flavored condoms?

Comeau: No, this is equally as traumatizing. Thanks to her interference in the gauntlet and bringing BFG out to the ring with her earlier, she now has to step up to the plate and be the next person to face the Sadistic One.

The concept of mauling Buehler makes Psycho oh so happy. He rubs his palms together, anxiously awaiting her arrival and anticipating her loud screams. This time they won’t be screams of passion.

Mark: Psycho has been more devastating than a hurricane, will Katelyn be the next victim caught in the storm? We’ll find out what Psycho is going to do to Buehler next.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

The Evilest Gimmick of All Times

GAUNTLET PART THREE

Katelyn Buehler looks like she’s walking into a funeral, her head lowered and her body humbled. She shambles towards the ring, very fatigued from her earlier bout and the beatdown she suffered at the hands of the Empire. Waiting for her in the ring is Psycho, who creates friction by rubbing his sweaty palms together.

Mark: Katelyn on her way to the ring and boy oh boy has she ever stepped in it. She’s stepped in it straight up to her knee.

Susie: Her foot is gonna be smelly.

Mark: Her whole body may smell due to rot after Psycho is done with her.

Katelyn continues to timidly trek towards the ring where the goliath waits patiently, savoring this moment. He relishes in the idea of sinking his fists into Buehler’s face as she reluctantly rises to the apron. The moment their eyes meet Katelyn gulps to such an extreme it looks like she’s swallowed a baseball. Although she’s probably use to swallowing things much larger.

Comeau: I would suggest the EMTs stop taking a coffee break and get ready.

Moore: Yes, because I want to take a ride in the ambulance after the show and play with the sirens.

Fitzpatrick motions for the bell and as it chimes the lump in Katelyn’s throat only grows larger, until she’s almost choking on it. Psycho gives her something else to choke on, his fist. He rushes straight at her when Buehler squeals, hops from the apron and backs towards the ramp.

The Sadistic One isn’t about to let her get very far, rolling out of the ring after his opponent. Katelyn does perhaps the smartest thing she’s ever done by fleeing in terror. She runs around the ring with Psycho following closely behind, his fingers just falling short of her hair.

Comeau: Katelyn taking off but Psycho is right after her. This is probably the best strategy she can employ against the Cartel Champion.

Susie: Run Katelyn run, and while your at it, pick me up a snow-cone.

Mark: Again with the snow-cone?

After several laps around the ring Psycho just stops and wedges his fists to his hips. Buehler has no idea that the large angry man is no longer chasing her as she rushes past each turnbuckle. After taking a quick glimpse over her shoulder and spotting no one momentary relief sets in. That is until she turns her head forward and runs straight into Psycho’s wide sternum.

She falls straight on her rump, staring up into the sadistic eyes gleaming with hate and rage. The lump in her throat returns as her skin transforms to a bright shade of white. Sweat trickles down her face as Buehler turns, crawling towards the barricade in a hurry.

Mark: Now she’s trying to get away through the crowd.

Buehler throws a leg over the barrier, but that’s as far as she gets before Psycho finally catches his prey. Several locks of hair are grasped between Psycho’s fingers which he yanks on to pull her back towards the ring. She tries feebly to slap and punch at the hand clutching her hair but nothing will break Psycho’s pitbull like grasp.

Mark: He’s got Buehler and now she’s in for a world of pain.

Susie: Is he going to make her listen to Jay Leno interviewing Kayne West?

Comeau: No, what Psycho does to Buehler is going to be far more painful than that.

Psycho slides into the ring and tugs on Buehler’s hair once again, forcing her along behind him. She gets into the ring and ends up kneeling before the sadistic champion, who would enjoy nothing more than caving in her skull.

However, Katelyn attempts to complicate matters, to lure him away from his more disturbed thoughts. She reaches out and sensually places her palms on Psycho’s stomach, rubbing it like he were a baby with a sore tummy.

Mark: What is…..is Buehler rubbing Psycho’s belly?

Moore: Awww, next she’ll probably rock him to sleep and read him a bed time story.

Confusion sets in for Psycho, his eyebrow twitching and his face contorted as he watches the hands move in a circular fashion around his stomach. Buehler looks up at him with a smile on her face while winking her eye.

Katelyn: Don’t worry, I know what you need big fella. You just need some lovin’.

Buehler goes as far as to poke Psycho in his belly button.

Comeau: Alright, this actually just became more disturbing than watching Psycho mutilate his opponents.

In a sexual manner Katelyn kicks her hair back, giving Psycho that come hither stare.

Buehler: Does this turn you on?

Although he tries to resist it Psycho cannot help grinning from one ear to the other.

Psycho: I’ll show you what turns me on.

A big knee is raised and connects straight against Buehler’s jaw, knocking her to the canvas.

Mark: So much for this mating ritual.

Susie: That was just like watching National Geographic.

Katelyn rolls around on the canvas holding her wounded jaw until finally she props herself up in a turnbuckle. This was a big mistake on Buehler’s part, because it puts her right in position for Psycho. He comes charging in, twisting around and throwing his rump directly into the N.H.B Champion’s face. He features almost implode upon impact.

Comeau: OUCH.

Susie: She’s gonna need a facial, probably several actually.

Katelyn looks as lost as a hippy at a Bob Marley concert. The brutish Sadistic One steps in, grabs hold of her hair, yanks Buehler to her feet and then tosses her by the bangs half way across the ring. The N.H.B Champ flips forward and comes plummeting down from a tremendous height spine first into the canvas.

She sits up reaching for her kidneys and her rear end while her opponent cracks his knuckles and mumbles some truly harrowing words.

Psycho: I’m just getting started.

Katelyn instinctively turns to her knees as Psycho stops at her side and delivers a forearm to the upper back so vicious that it almost cracks her spine into a thousand pieces. The blow knocks her to the canvas where she desperately tries to recover even as a boot slams down across the back of her skull.

Her body writhes like a fish out of water, desperately trying to return to the safety of the sea. With his foot still wedged to her skull, Psycho reaches down and grabs hold of some hair. He lifts up on it until several locks are ripped from Buehler’s scalp.

Mark: Ahhh, he just ripped out some of Buehler’s hair!

Moore: He can give it to me, I’ve always wanted to make myself a tail.

The foot is removed from her skull as Buehler rolls around on the canvas, making sure she doesn’t have a bald spot. All the while Psycho smells the hair in his fingers then blows it off, sending it cascading through the air. He then turns his focus back to Buehler, who with a sense of urgency scrambles towards the outside of the ring.

She doesn’t quite make it as Psycho grabs hold of one of her feet, pulling and tugging on it in order to drag her to the center of the ring. Buehler grabs the apron, holding on for dear life, her nails almost cracking in the process. That’s when her boot comes off in the hands of Psycho, the Sadistic One stepping back and making sure a foot isn’t still inside.

In anger, considering the boot didn’t possess a disembodied foot, he throws the show down right into Katelyn’s bum. She squeals from the pain as Psycho once again grabs her by the ankle of her bare foot and finally forces her to the center of the ring.

He promptly lifts his elbow and drops it straight for her kidneys only to have Katelyn roll out of the way in the nick of time. Psycho’s arm misses Buehler and hits canvas, causing him to sit up grabbing at his wounded elbow. Driven by instinct Katelyn leaps up behind Psycho and digs her finger nails straight into his eye sockets.

Comeau: She’s going after the eyes. I guess if you can’t get away from him, blinding Psycho is the next best course of action.

Moore: Of she can try soothing his inner beast by way of violin music.

Mark: That was Young Frankenstein, not Psycho.

Moore: There’s a difference?

Now her nails are almost snapping not as they try to hold onto something but as they dig deeper and deeper into the pupils of the Cartel Champion. The Sadistic One tries to force the nails from his eyes but Katelyn is holding on like a jungle cat, like her life depended on it.

Even as she’s swung around by Psycho’s twirling body Buehler continues to hold on. Her nails ravage Psycho’s eyes until they are almost bleeding. The official is powerless to pull her off, Fitzpatrick starting a five count, coming dangerously close to disqualifying Buehler.

Mark: Buehler had better let go, or she’ll be DQed. Although in retrospect, that would probably be a good thing in terms of self preservation.

The referee ducks Buehler’s legs as they go flying by, Psycho still twisting and turning in an attempt to lodge her fingers free from his irises. Finally Fitzpatrick reaches a count of five, finding himself with no other recourse but to officially conclude this contest. The bell chimes in the background repeatedly but Buehler still isn’t letting go.

Mark: And Katelyn just got herself disqualified by intentionally raking those eyes. The official had no other alternative but to throw out this match.

Susie: Aww, but I thought Psycho was going to kill her, or at the very least make her slightly less pretty.

Comeau: The scars he’s inflicted on Buehler tonight were more psychological than physical.

Once spinning proves ineffective Psycho employs all his strength to flip Buehler over his head and send her crashing to her posterior once again. After hitting the canvas Katelyn rolls towards the ropes, hightailing it from the ring. A terrified expression resides on her face as she flees up the ramp to the backstage area.

Comeau: Buehler saving herself the only way she knew how, by means of disqualification. If this match had continued any longer, I think Katelyn would have been left in far worse condition than either Andy Madrox or Miho Miyazaki.

Susie: Then tell the referee to restart the match. Pretty please.

Despite the condition of her highly traumatized body Buehler makes it backstage, tearing through the curtains and immediately seeking medical aid. Psycho is left behind, kneeling on the canvas and rubbing the backs of his fists against his eyes, trying to regain some vision.

Mark: Well I guess this marks the end of the gauntlet, Psycho not only made it through but he passed with flying colors. As long as his vision hasn’t permanently been affected I think he’ll have a huge chip on his shoulder headed into the Overbooked Extravaganza where he puts that Carte…..

The long winded comment by Comeau is thankfully cut short by the interruption of the King for a Day.

Jackson: Congratulations. Well played sir.

With mic in hand Adams proceeds to the stage, where his words are drowned out by the sounds of boos, and a slight helping of cheers.

Comeau: I think Psycho should take Jackson’s compliments with a grain of salt.

Susie: It looks like Psycho eats too many things with salt as it is, that belly is huge.

If his eyes weren’t in so much pain Psycho would pay more attention to Jackson and his half hearted comments.

Adams: Somehow you survived all the jobbers I could throw at you. I’m sure many years from now you’ll still cherish this victory as a true milestone in your career. I mean, what else have you done? Besides being Freddy Krueger’s stunt double that is.

The crowd does not care for the reference to Psycho’s still scarred face.

Jackson: Anyway, I just wanted to come out here, offer my congratulations and wish you the best of luck at the Overbooked Extravaganza, see ya there sport.

He now turns to leave before snapping his fingers as if the light-bulb just clicked on above his head.

Adams: Oh wow, I almost completely forgot. Boy would I have egg on my face if I neglected to mention the change that I made to this match backstage.

Mark: Uh-oh.

Psycho is still frantically blinking his eyes in the hopes that they’ll adjust but he attentively listens to Adams’ newest caveat nevertheless.

Jackson: After being approached by a certain New York native, I decided to attach a bonus match to the end of this gauntlet. So Psycho, allow me to introduce you to your final opponent…..

“Step Up” explodes through the PA system and the crowd unleashes an ear drum shattering pop.

Mark: Ooooh yeah!

Moore: Is it Kool-Aid?

Comeau: Nooo, it’s somebody far more intrusive and violent, it’s the number one contender for Psycho’s Cartel Championship, Axl Evermore.

Susie: Excellent, not even Kool-Aid has a pony tail, so now I’m happy it’s Axl.

The screeching audience becomes even louder at the sight of Axl stepping to the stage and pausing for only a moment to absorb the electricity in the atmosphere. Psycho is still rubbing at his eyes, but now he believes it’s his ears that are deceiving him. Jackson’s announcement is no hallucination however, which Evermore proves once he slides into the ring and begins to throw fists.

Mark: And it’s on, Axl Evermore versus Psycho, these two long time rivals finally going at it.

Although he can’t see an inch in front of his face Psycho throws a right hand, meeting nothing but air. Axl has ducked down out of the way, avoiding it then popping right back to his feet. His knuckles nail Psycho’s jaw, then do so again, and again, staggering the Sadistic One. He almost looses his footing after a European Uppercut drills the blinded star to the jaw.

Mark: Axl taking full advantage of Psycho’s current predicament. If he can beat him here tonight it’ll certainly give him a lot of momentum headed into their Cartel Title showdown.

Another European Uppercut almost debilitates Psycho entirely, his fatigued frame falling against the ropes which provide his only support. Evermore, who is full of energy and rage, takes Psycho by the wrist, attempting to shoot him off across the ring.

Just before Psycho could continue falling prey to this beat-down, he counters, instead putting Evermore in a precarious predicament. The number one contender ricochets from the ropes and comes back at Psycho, who swings too soon, still blinded by the cornea ripping nails of Buehler.

He fails to realize that Axl wrapped his arms around the top rope, keeping from coming back in at his long time nemesis. Once Psycho’s eyes finally do adjust they have the dissatisfaction of seeing Evermore clinging to the cables and giving him a big up yours taunt. Anger gets the better of Psycho, clouding his judgment as he charges straight at Evermore who side steps him and in the process launches the Champion through the ropes to the outside.

Somehow Psycho lands on his feet, shaking like a sky scrapper during an earthquake. He roots himself to the mats just as Evermore continues bolting across the ring and tossing his own body through the ropes. His skull connects with Psycho’s both men going down as a result of the suicide headbunt.

Mark: OH WOW! Axl again throwing his own body into Psycho to inflict punishment. Who will ever forget his dive from the balcony several weeks ago?

Susie: Already forgotten. Damn my addiction to sniffing Elmer’s Glue.

Psycho doesn’t even know where he is at this point, let alone that he’s competing in yet another match against the man he defeated for the Cartel Title. He fails to connect the dots even as Axl pulls him to his feet by the back of the head and charges him straight into the barricade. Psycho’s face is driven off the steel railing.

Before the pain even has a chance to register in Psycho’s head he’s twirled around then charged skull first into the steel turnbuckle post.

Mark: Revenge has come for Evermore.

Susie: I bet revenge looks all dark and emo. Probably smokes cigarettes and listens to lots of Muse.

Psycho’s face is removed from the post and reintroduced to the knuckles of his adversary. The shots have him rocked but yet to go over. That’s when Axl hears a roar that stops his fist from connecting for the hundredth time.

Psycho: COME ON!

The features of the Cartel Champion are twisted and warped with rage, his eyes so fierce they could turn a man’s blood ice cold. It fails to have much in the way of an effect on Axl, with the exception being a brief pause. That’s just what the pause is, merely momentary, because he goes right back to drilling Psycho’s jaw with closed fists.

He doesn’t stop until Psycho delivers one of his own. The uppercut to the jaw is so stiff and unexpected that it causes Evermore to loose control of his senses.

Mark: OH! I didn’t know Psycho still had that left in him.

Susie: He’s probably still got a lot left in him. His colon has to be full of like fifty pounds of undigested meat and probably dwarfs.

Axl looks like he wants to collapse to the mats but his unsteady legs won’t let him do it. He puts one behind him, staying upright just long enough for a boot to nearly crack his ribs. Psycho doubles Evermore over then drags his head under his seat and wraps both arms about Axl’s waist.

He hoists him up into a crucifix powerbomb position then takes off towards the barricade.

Mark: NO! Not again!

Axl slips off of Psycho’s shoulders just before the nostalgic and crippling maneuver could be delivered. He falls to his feet behind Psycho, who is quick to spin around and look for retaliation. Instead all he finds is a boot square to the jaw as Evermore delivers a perfectly time superkick.

Mark: NICE!

Like a gunshot the kick echoes through an arena packed with squealing fans. They find themselves gushing with excitement as Psycho spills over the barrier and out amongst them.

Comeau: A superkick taking Psycho out into the crowd. He may have absolutely no fight left against Evermore.

Moore: He should hurry up and down a few pixy sticks, it helped Paul Blart.

Mark: For God sakes, the man is nowhere near as overweight as Kevin James.

Susie: If you leave more than five pounds in the toilet every morning then you’re a fat ass, sorry, I had to say it.

The crowd could care less about Susie’s deluded misconceptions, their attention fully diverted to Evermore and his ascent up the turnbuckle.

Mark: Wait, hold on here….don’t!

Evermore barely has himself stabilized on the very top rope before he dives through the air and comes crashing down on top of the Cartel Champion with a big splash.

Comeau: MYAAAH!

Susie: I think Axl just got him a visit from Tinkerbell. I wonder what his happy thought is. Probably cheese.

Mark: Evermore with another spectacular dive, this time flying into the crowd right on top of Psycho. You have got to be….that was INSANE!

Every inch of barricade is covered by hands, palms slapping against the steel and creating a loud ruckus throughout the building. The Manhattan Center actually seems to be reverberating after that suicidal plunge from the number one contender.

Comeau: This just goes to show the lengths that Evermore will go to in order to end Psycho and take back his Cartel Championship.

After once again almost killing himself to hurt Psycho, Axl is back on his feet. The Sadistic One is right back up as well and trading shots with the number one contender. They spiral through the crowd which quickly moves clear of the chaos, not wanting to get swept up into this brawl. Their eyes are wide and their hearts are beating as the rivals brawl right through them on their way to the backstage area.

Mark: I would suggest somebody get security out here before we’re hit with some lawsuits. This is an all out war.

Susie: I think I’ll sue for breach of contract. I was suppose to be given fluffy Alf slippers to wear out here, instead they gave me fluffy Gonzo slippers. It’s an outrage!

The excitement continues to build in the crowd as Psycho and Axl throw fists out amongst them. Referees and security guards hop the barricade and charge through the masses, desperately trying to reach the Cartel Champion and the Number One Contender in order to retake control over the show.

COVER IT

With jacket strewn over shoulder and smile on his face the always confident Orlando swings from side to side in his stool. Although he has no desk he found an egg crate to prop his television upon. His eyes watch the small screen, keenly aware of all that is transpiring tonight and more importantly, what is about to take place. Apparently the “Do Not Disturb” sign on his door was too ambiguous, because Rick-Rohl and Max Craven saunter on in without so much as a knock.

Max: Enjoying the show are we?

Craven looks from the television to the smirk on Cruze’s features.

Orlando: Its had its moments, but I feel things are about to pick up.

Craven: Kudos on your “tweaking” skills.

Cruze: Yeah, I am kind of proud of myself.

Max: And for good reason, the idea of an IWC without Robin Brooks and Christian Savior is like Disney World without the anti-Semitism.

Rick-Rohl: It’s like Washington without all the special interest lobbyists.

Craven: It’s like porno without Ron Jeremy’s geriatric ass screwing a bunch of post-op Filipino whores.

Rick-Rohl: Oh that’s not right Max, where would you be in your career if it weren’t for Filipino whores?

Max: Touché good sir, touché.

Rick-Rohl: A Filipino whore saved my life once. Besides, it’s degrading to compare them to Robin Brooks.

Orlando: I get your point gentlemen.

Max and Rick-Rohl stare awkwardly at one another with blank expressions, wondering what their point even was.

Cruze: Was there something else?

The duo is grateful that their bait has got a nibble.

Max: Well, we hate to place undue burden on you….

Orlando: Come on Max, your not one to dance around the issue, just say it.

Craven: Alrighty then. I want Katelyn Buehler for the N.H.B Title, and I want her at the Overbooked Extravaganza.

Cruze: Done.

Orlando goes back to watching the television while Max reels from the simplicity of the President’s response, and his eagerness to yield to his demands.

Max: Oh. Good then.

Rick-Rohl: Psst.

The gyrating bodyguard bumps Max with his elbow, helping him get over his brain freeze.

Craven: Ah yes, and if it’s not too much trouble, Rick-Rohl wants BFG at the Overbooked Extravaganza too.

Orlando: Hmmm, oh gee, let me think. FINE.

Now it’s Rick-Rohl who is in a momentary state of disbelief.

Max: That’s it? No demands, no insightful psychological rants in which you point out the follies of our decisions and past mistakes? Who are you and what have you done with Orlando Cruze?

Cruze: Meh’.

He dismisses all that jazz with a wave of his palm. Before Max can ask anymore questions Cruze has no intention of answering a knock comes at the door.

Orlando: Come in.

The door opens and a figure in a flashy uniform enters.

Delivery Boy: I have a large pizza with mushrooms and pepperoni for a Mr. Cruze.

Cruze: Right here bud.

The pizza is handed off to Max Craven, who examines the box closely.

Orlando: Hey Rick, do you mind paying, I’m sure you’ve got a bunch of singles.

It takes Rick-Rohl a moment to realize what’s being asked of him until he sees the outstretched palm of the delivery boy. He then digs in his pocket and places some cash in the eager youth’s hand.

Orlando: Why don’t you guys pull up a stool and enjoy this next match with me? You can even have a slice or two.

Rick and Max shrug, having absolutely nothing better to do with their time. They each grab a folded up chair stacked against the wall and sit down on opposite sides of the Icon. Max opens the pizza box and looks inside with a sense of dread.

Max: Mushrooms?

Orlando: Oh don’t be a whiner, just pick them off. Then sit back, watch a few commercials and enjoy the final match of Robin and Christian’s careers.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

The Most Disturbing End to a Match of All Times

THE EMPIRE
VS.
ROBIN BROOKS & CHRISTIAN SAVIOR

WAKE UP

The reaction from the crowd borders on outright insanity. If they had confetti in hand they would throw a tickertape parade for the two figures who emerge to the stage, World Heavyweight Champion Johnny Kingdom leading the march. Behind him is Hurse, the Master of Control, who spins in a circle, his finger gesturing to the enthusiastic crowd.

Mark: We return to Riot! with the arrival of the Empire, Johnny Kingdom and Hurse, who have been presented with the opportunity of a lifetime.

Susie: They get to be guest on the next edition of Susie’s Tea Party?

Comeau: No.

Moore: They’re starring in the sequel to Footloose?

Mark: Nyooo. Tonight they have the opportunity to remove their two biggest rivals from the IWC in one fatal swoop. If they’re victorious in this match by pinfall or submission, then both Robin Brooks and Christian Savior are out of the IWC.

Johnny tosses the World Title over the ropes and into the ring before hopping to the apron. Hurse moves up the steps and pauses for a photo op.

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!

The perturbed Submission Champion steps to the stage, shoulder weighed down by her title belt. Although Robin would normally exude confidence, tonight she looks almost timid as she approaches the ring. Her apprehension of course tied to her unreliable partner and the fact that her career hinges on a victory in this bout.

Mark: Although Robin’s night has been a bust thus far, it could be a whole lot worse.

Susie: Yeah, she might have had to star in a Uwe Boll film.

Mark: At the very least Brooks will have the opportunity to fight for her job, instead of just being outright fired. But she’ll still be fighting an uphill battle here this evening.

Brooks turns to gauge the expressions on the faces of her opponents. Their smirks let her know that she’s in for a whole lot of trouble this evening, and she’s really going to have to put on her working boots to leave Riot! with a job.

10...

9...

8...

7...

6...

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

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

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

You think you know me?!

I’m…

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

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

Spinning around, the figure reveals himself to be Christian Savior, wearing his black pants and phoenix-logo shirt, along with a long black trenchcoat.

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. He shows a surprising lack of fear when it comes to stepping into the ring with the vengeful World Champion and Hurse.

Mark: Here’s the human wild card himself, Christian Savior. Nobody, partner included, is sure of what this man is going to do once that bell rings. Is he going to fight to keep his job or is he just going to lay down and force Orlando to have to fire him?

Moore: If I were him, I’d just endear myself to both Kingdom and Cruze, by offering the Mr. Clean Army a nice bottle of Turtle Wax shine for their heads.

Mark: It’s so nice to know that you haven’t grown as a character at all in the span of a year.

Susie: No, but my chest size has doubled.

Savior climbs to the apron and quickly slips into the ring. Before Robin can so much as insist that she start this match Christian directs her words to his raised palm. He doesn’t want to hear it, intent on beginning this bout on behalf of this tandem.

Mark: In the words of Heath Ledger’s immortal portrayal of the Joker, “here we go.”

Moore: Why does everyone praise the Joker so much, they should know by now that the greatest evil clown of all times was Bozo the Clown. He scared the poopy out of me.

Comeau: I think Robin and Chris….well, Robin at least, is afraid of something else. Loosing her job here tonight. If she and Savior fail to win this match then its adios to the both of them.

The match starts appropriately with Johnny Kingdom standing mono a mono with Christian Savior, the individual who has been quite a persistent irritation to the World Champion. The Rising Phoenix steps to the center of the ring and to the surprise of just about everyone, interlocks his hands behind his back, offering up a free shot to the Team Leader.

Mark: Oh come on, Christian still trying to stick it to Orlando. He’s refusing to fight, so that he can get beaten and force Orlando to “corrupt” himself by firing the Rising Phoenix tonight.

Savior is still offering up his jaw, closing his eyes in anticipation of the knock out blow. All the while Brooks is pleading with her partner, begging him not to do this, imploring him not to cost her her job. Savior could care less about what collateral damage is caused by his actions.

The Team Leader contemplates whether it would be wise to take Savior up on his offer. He slowly strokes his jaw, and taps his foot to the canvas, still in quiet contemplation. Finally with a shrug Kingdom delivers a straight kick to Christian’s ribs, the blow knocking him back first into the enemy corner.

Comeau: Johnny didn’t have to do much thinking before he took Savior up on his offer.

Moore: Oh goodie, now maybe Christian will give him enough money to afford a new toupee. One that he’ll eventually let me play with.

Savior does nothing to protect himself, not raising his arms to shield his face, or sidestepping, or ducking, nothing as fist after fist connects with his face. The Team Leader then grabs the top rope and begins delivering stomps to the exposed ribcage, Christian once again failing to protect his mid-section.

It’s at this point that Robin has seen enough, slapping Savior’s shoulder then lunging over the top rope. She lands behind Kingdom then charges straight into a reverse elbow to the jaw. The sickeningly stiff strike knocks Brooks into a corkscrew while Johnny returns his focus to Christian, hooking him under the armpit then charging him out of the corner.

Savior is sent sailing through the air via a hip toss that eventually leads to him careening to the canvas.

Mark: Christian continuing to remain passive even as he’s thrown all around the ring. Maybe he really doesn’t care if he’s fired or not.

Susie: I would care, because then I’d never be able to comment on his long wavy locks again.

Savior grabs at his kidneys and winces in pain before rolling past Hurse’s feet and falling to the outside mats. All the while the World Champion has transferred his focus to someone who is actually winning to give him a fight, a very shaken Black Widow.

Robin slowly ascends to her feet with the aid of a turnbuckle as Johnny swoops in behind her only to walk right into a kick to the gut. The blow has Johnny doubled over just as Robin springs to the middle rope then flies off, twisting in mid-air. She flies over Kingdom’s back, catches him around the waist and pulls him down into a sunset flip.

1

Before the referee’s hand can so much as near the canvas once more Kingdom launches a shoulder from the canvas. He rolls back in the process getting to his feet just as Brooks rushes towards him and traps his head, desperately going for the Spider Bite.

The desperation proves futile, Kingdom able to shove Brooks off into the nearby ropes. Just before connecting with them Robin grabs the top rope and flies over the cables, landing with the poise of a cat on the apron. It takes a few moments to stabilize herself, very costly moments. Her distraction allows Kingdom to rush at the perpendicular cables, spring from the middle one then twist in mid-air as he connects with a lariat over the top rope.

His bicep creams Brooks right in the throat and almost sends her flipping completely over backwards.

Comeau: Vicious springboard lariat by Kingdom, who is a master of blending a variety of styles.

Moore: How can he be so good at that, but fail to grow hair anywhere on his body besides his chin? I bet he doesn’t even have chest hair. You can’t be a man without chest chair.

After taking a nasty clothesline followed by an equally as nasty spill, Robin tries to reach her feet as if her livelihood depended on it…..oh wait, it does. When Christian steps in and offers up a hand Brooks slaps it away, eyeing the Rising Phoenix like he were a lepper.

She finally reaches her feet and in the process cuts forth with a series of threats that sound more like guttural growls than anything else. Christian isn’t affected by them in the slightest, still believing his actions to be justified.

Robin: You caused this, you caused all of this! I’m supposed to be a Queen, A QUEEN, queens can’t be de-throwned!

Savior shrugs in response, having no other rebuttal that would satisfy the increasingly enraged Black Widow. Neither the Rising Phoenix, nor the Black Widow are aware that during their conversation, Robin doing all the talking with Savior responding via gestures, that their opponents are setting up for something big and no doubt painful.

Kingdom has tagged in Hurse and now drops to the canvas across all fours as his partner ricochets from the cables and then employs the Team Leader as a stepping stool. He leaps off of Kingdom’s back and over the top rope into a big senton that connects with Christian and Robin. The trio collapses to the mats with Hurse on top and the crowd on their feet cheering.

Mark: Johnny and Hurse working together to pull off that sensational dive which effectively took out BOTH opponents.

Savior and Robin continue to lay on the mats, Brooks eagerly trying to get up while Christian takes his sweet old time. Of course it didn’t matter who the first person was to reach their feet, because Hurse only had eyes for one opponent, Robin. He steps in and delivers a straight right hand to her lovely face, the blow knocking her back first into the apron.

Johnny now reaches over the ropes and grabs Brooks by the hair, pulling the screaming queen to the apron. Just as she reaches the apron Brooks falls to her side and launches a shin into the air, connecting with a kick to the temple of the Team Leader.

The blow leaves Johnny’s brain rattled in the confines of his skull as he staggers back towards the center of the ring. In the meanwhile Brooks has dragged herself to her feet, watching as Hurse stomps away at a still passive Savior. She leaps over the top rope to the inside of the ring but keeps her grasp on the uppermost cable, waiting anxiously. Finally Hurse turns around when Brooks leaps over the top rope, transitions in mid-air and lands on his shoulders.

Brooks swings around and connects with a hurricarana, launching Hurse into a forward flip. His back smacks the thin protective matting and almost cripples him with blinding anguish.

Comeau: Robin doing what she can to keep her team in this match, which is all the more difficult when her partner refuses to fight.

Susie: He just needs to be motivated is all. Maybe if Robin offered him some new Head & Shoulders he’d be 100% on board.

Mark: More hair related jokes? Is that honestly the best you can do?

Susie: It’s the best I can do without actually trying.

Comeau: Touché.

Robin turns back towards the ring then steps off of a crawling Savior’s back, using him to spring to the apron and grab the top rope. Kingdom spins around as Brooks jumps into the air, transitioning as she grips the top rope and drops with both shins on top of Johnny’s shoulders. She releases the ropes and attempts to perform a head scissors only to be swung around and caught under Kingdom’s arm. He then drops her kidneys first into his raised knee, performing a perfect Canadian back breaker.

Mark: Kingdom counters, and it may just be that counter that puts an end to any fight Robin had left.

The Black Widow grips at her kidneys while rolling towards the ropes, which she desperately latches onto. All the while the referee is getting into Kingdom’s face, politely asking the champ to vacate the ring. The Team Leader smirks at official Wright’s attempt to be threatening but vacates the ring nevertheless.

Just as Johnny leaves, Hurse enters. He slips in under the ropes and immediately charges at just one of the women who have made his life a living hell. His foot catches Brooks right to the temple, causing her to fall back to her seat where Hurse begins to stomp her again and again and again and again to the chest.

The crowd eats it up like they were death row inmates and this was their last meal. Each boot to Robin’s chest relieves months of frustrations and heartaches for Hurse, whether it be Buehler’s betrayal, or being tossed into a dumpster.

Mark: It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Hurse this fired up and this angered. He’s almost rabid in there against his ex fiancée.

Susie: Being rabid isn’t that bad. At least you have long floppy ears and big funny feet, te-he-he. Is it wrong to be turned on by the thought of bunnies?

Mark: Yes, very much so.

Moore: Oh, then forget I said anything.

It isn’t until the official physically wedges himself before Hurse and Brooks that the stomping stops. Hurse steps back and then lightly shoves the official aside before storming towards Brooks, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her to her feet.

He now delivers a swift European Uppercut that almost fractures her jaw upon impact. The Submission Champion looks so unbalanced one could mistake her for a junky. Brooks wishes she did have some drugs right about now to help her cope with her pain and her frustrations.

Hurse grabs her by the wrist and sends her off into the ropes. She ricochets from them and comes back in at her ex who catches her with a leaping, twisting European Uppercut to the chin. Both Hurse and Brooks go down to the canvas with the Black Widow desperately grabbing at her face.

She quickly checks her chin to make sure it isn’t broken while rolling in the direction of her partner. Surprisingly Savior is offering forth his hand, actually asking for a tag into the match.

Robin sneers at the offer, realizing that all Savior wants is to intentionally cost their team the match.

Mark: Brooks smart not to tag out to Savior, bringing him into this match would be a HUGE gamble. Actually it pretty much be like committing suicide.

Susie: I tried doing that after they replaced the entire original cast of Power Rangers, but my parents kept opening the refrigerator door and letting air in.

Comeau: Only you would try to kill yourself by locking yourself in a refrigerator.

The action continues to be frantically paced with Hurse taking his former fiancée by the hair. Once she’s placed in the gutwrench, Brooks is suddenly remorseful that she didn’t make the tag. The gutwrench allows Hurse to lift her into the air then twist her nimble body into a sit-out powerbomb. He leans forward into the creases of her knees as the official’s hand meets the canvas.

1

2

Robin frees her shoulder from the canvas just as Hurse stands up and grabs the legs, already attempting the Legend Lock.

Mark: Hurse seems to be on the verge of trapping the Submission Champion and ironically getting her to tap to his dreaded Legend Lock. It would be the perfect comeuppance for Brooks, who forced Hurse to tap at Upping the Ante.

Susie: I always thought comeuppance was a sexual term, sure sounds like it. You know, where a group of guys cum up a….

Mark: I think the fans at home know where you were going with that sentence.

Instead of being rolled to her ribs and victimized any further by her ex, Robin twists and swings her hips, freeing her legs by launching Hurse to his side. To her dismay however, Hurse cartwheels across the canvas and ends up on his feet. In front of him the Black Widow slowly rises, wearing a very content expression on her face, fooling herself into believing that she got the upper hand on the Master of Control.

That’s when reality slaps her in the face, Hurse spinning her around and taking her by the neck. He charges at the nearest turnbuckle, setting up for the Disinfectant. Before she could be nailed with the sit-out Sliced Bread Number 2, Brooks reaches out and desperately sinks her claws into the jersey of referee Wright’s shirt.

This last second groping, allows Brooks to free her head and prevent being hit with the maneuver. Hurse quickly spins around with his fist cocked back only for Robin to drag the referee into the path of his punch.

His hand stops just short of a traumatized Wright’s face but doesn’t connect to his trembling features. Instead his palm opens and Hurse grabs Wright by his already stretched shirt and tosses him aside. Just as the referee is thrown into the ropes Brooks spits directly into Hurse’s eyes, momentarily blinding him and leaving him susceptible to the Spider Bite.

The Stunner connects, causing Hurse’s head to whiplash back just like his body, which goes staggering into the cables.

Mark: Robin may have used the referee to assist her, but what counts is that she pulled off a perfectly timed stunner on Hurse.

Susie: Maybe if Wright would loose some weight he’d stop getting in everyone’s way.

The stunner has effectively left Hurse brain-dead, far more brain-dead than usual. He finds himself reeling as he hits the cables and unfortunately for Brooks, finds himself in arms-length of the Team Leader. Kingdom slaps his shoulder, jumps over the ropes and charges straight at the Black Widow. He runs directly into a mouth full of boots, Robin catching the World Champion with a highly unexpected dropkick.

Comeau: And Robin follows up the stunner with a gorgeous dropkick. I’m surprised that she’s able to hit any of these maneuvers considering the amount of time she’s spent in this match, unable to bring Christian into the ring. Seriously, is it too much to ask that we have a straight forward tag team match for once?

Susie: Yep.

The dropkick has Kingdom dazed and strewn across the canvas in perfect position for one of Robin’s many aerial moves. She jumps over Johnny then does a full headstand on top of one of the turnbuckles then twists and comes down into a leg drop across Kingdom’s throat.

Johnny grabs at his neck as Brooks crawls into a cover, desperately hooking a leg in the hopes that this nightmare will end.

1

2

Robin’s job continues to be on the line as Kingdom’s shoulder launches from the canvas.

Mark: NO! Robin not having done enough just yet to keep Kingdom down.

Susie: She’ll probably have to get a few drinks in him first.

A very agitated Black Widow reaches her feet and once again steps over Kingdom, this time turning her back towards the turnbuckle as she ascends it. The eager Submission Champion steadies herself then turns just in time to spot a recovered Hurse charging at her.

A right hand to his forehead knocks Hurse from the apron and keeps him from interfering. This allows Brooks to devote her focus entirely on Kingdom, prompting her to dive from the middle rope and come crashing down chin first right into the raised boot of the Team Leader.

Comeau: Hurse distracting Brooks and it cost her BIG.

Robin’s eyes roll to the back of her head as she falls spine first into the turnbuckle she launched herself out of. All the while Kingdom is trying to stand up in front of his wounded opponent. Just as Kingdom reaches his feet, albeit still stooped forward, Robin charges out of the corner then lunges into the air.

She catches great height as she attempts to deliver the scissors kick to the back of her prone opponent’s skull. Kingdom steps back at the last second causing her leg to connect with nothing but air. She lands on her feet, face filling with panic before she spins around and receives a straight kick to the ribs.

The blow doubles her over as Johnny drags her head under his crotch and holds both her arms at the creases of her knees. The fans almost orgasm at the sight of Kingdom delivering the Package Piledriver.

Mark: Johnny busting out that rarely used piledriver variation, which just goes to show how difficult of an opponent Robin Brooks really is. Will even planting her straight on top of her head be enough though to ensure victory?

Susie: It would be if she weren’t hard headed. You know, when I first heard the expression “hard headed” I thought it was….

Comeau: Yeah, yeah, bad sexual pun, ha-ha, somebody please euthanize me.

Christian watches rather apathetically from his corner, slowly shaking his head with contempt for this whole farce. He continues watching even as Johnny fails to go for the pin, the Team Leader turning his attention to his very eager opponent. Hurse’s hand extends over the ropes, fingers twiddling in anticipation of a tag. Clearly the Master of Control wants his hands on Brooks in the worse way possible.

Much like AWOL in that six person tag last week, Johnny gives in to Hurse’s pleas, reaching out and slapping his palm.

Mark: Johnny being surprisingly generous with the tag, bringing Hurse back into the ring so that he can finally avenge that loss at Upping the Ante. But will he do it, can he do it, can he finally end this loooong standing issue between himself and the Black Widow?

Susie: Am I supposed to answer these questions or just continue sitting here looking pretty?

Hurse enters the ring, cracks his fingers and then sinks them into the long, luscious locks of the woman he once pledged himself too. Now the only thing he wants to give Brooks, is pain. He pulls her head under his seat much like Kingdom and then wraps his arms around her waist before lifting the Black Widow into the air.

Johnny makes sure that Savior isn’t about to enter the ring and break this up. Christian just watches, and even goes as far as to check his imaginary watch. He too is anticipating the conclusion to this match and the aftermath he’s been so anxiously anticipating.

He, nor the fans, will have to wait much longer as Robin is held upside down, Hurse stepping in front of her shoulders as he prepares to unleash the Sanitizer.

Mark: It all comes down to this. It’s over ladies and gentlemen, the storybook career of Robin Brooks and Christian Savior is about to reach an abrupt end.

Susie: Good, because I hate long books, especially when you can’t color in them. Needless to say, I’ve never been allowed back in a library.

Comeau: And yet you waste our time by saying it anyway.

The crowd watches as eager as children waiting to open their presents on Christmas mourning. They can’t wait to see the death nail be driven into the Brat Pack by way of Robin’s face being planted by the styles clash, and her career coming to an ever so satisfying end.

The reaction from the ubber excited fans is explosive as Hurse delivers his Sanitizer, smashing Robin’s features straight into the canvas.

Mark: Sanitizer delivered….this is the end of Rob…..

In the midst of pandemonium, the rafters shaking with applause and excitement, the lights in the building once again fall into darkness.

Comeau: No, no, dammit, NO! Not again!

Susie: Thank God I brought my nightlight.

Mark: I can’t believe this is happening. These lights going out can mean only one thing. EMTs better be waiting to cart Kingdom out of the building and rush him to the hospital, and they had better have a blood transfusion waiting on him.

All that can be heard in the background are the faint screams of a terrified crowd. The fans prepare themselves for the ghastly image of Johnny or Hurse lying in a pool of their own blood. However, they learn that they shouldn’t be so prone to assumptions. The houselights rise and in the ring a strange sight is beheld. A steel pipe is caught in mid-swing, Kingdom wrapping his hands around it and preventing it from being driven into his skull.

Panic exudes from the eyes of the individual dressed in all black, with the Xavier mask being the most prominent portion of his attire.

Mark: Kingdom caught the pipe this time. He’s prevented another attack! His senses border on precognition.

Moore: So he’s had the surgery then? You wouldn’t notice by looking at him, he doesn’t make a very convincing woman.

The wide eyes of the mysterious foe blaze even through the thin slits of his mask. The mask doesn’t conceal his identity for long, or at least that’s what Kingdom hopes he lunges for it. He wraps his hands around the mask and tries to rip it from his face

Mark: Now he’s got hold of the mask. He’s got his hands all over it. He’s trying to rip it off! We’re finally going to find out who this rotten S.O.B really is.

Susie: Please let it be Lord Zed. PLEASE.

Once again, as he’s prone to doing, Mark let his excitement cause him to speak way too soon. With the mask being ripped away from his flesh, and his face seconds from being revealed to the world, but more importantly the World Heavyweight Champion. Christian charges in and delivers a lariat straight to the throat of the Team Leader, taking him to the canvas.

Mark: Why is Savior NOW getting physically involved? Right when it seemed that this man was about to be unmasked? I thought he didn’t care about anything anymore.

Susie: Not true, he still washed his hair.

Comeau: That has nothing to do with anything, although I do have to admit, it does look nice.

The lariat that had connected to Kingdom’s throat was forceful enough to remove his hands from the mask. He has already slipped the mask half way off of the assailant’s head, but the small margin that remains continues to conceal his nefarious secret. With a great sense of urgency he turns and bails from the ring, and to the surprise of many is followed closely by Savior.

Mark: Now Christian is heading for the hill with this guy dressed as Xavier. Someone please take three seconds and explain what’s going on, PLEASE.

Moore: It may take longer than three seconds for me to understand it.

Mark: Of course.

Trash pelts the two men fleeing in tandem, clearing the curtains as Johnny gives chase. The Team Leader, who cared little for this tag team match to begin with, rolls under the ropes and pursues the two men who have victimized him for so many months. He may not have gotten possession of the mask, but he does have a steel pipe in his palms.

Mark: Johnny chasing right after Christian and the man wearing that timeless Xavier mask. God help them if he catches up these two.

Susie: God is too busy answering my prayers for a new pony.

While all this is happening, all these wild plot twists are transpiring, Hurse just sits with a dazzled expression on his face. He has absolutely no idea what to make of this whole sordid situation, his jaw slightly hung and his eyes awkward blinking as he tries to make some sense out of it all.

Mark: Hurse had this match over his ex won if it weren’t for so this latest swerve. Although I don’t know how much of a “swerve” it actually was, I’m not shocked at all that Christian had a hand in these attacks.

Moore: Before I met Porny Porn, I offered Christian the chance to have his hand on something else, my pu...

Comeau: No further explanation required.

Susie: Okay, I was just going to say my purple Power Rangers doll. But he told me action figures were for queers. Which I guess makes me a bisexual.

Mark: Well, you always have had an infinity for flannel.

Hurse has no idea what he should do. Should he abandon this match and assist his stablemate or end the career of the woman who betrayed, humiliated, and tried to cripple him. Decisions, decisions.

Finally his attention shifts back towards Brooks, who has used this time to feebly drag herself up the ropes despite the condition of her traumatized body. Plagued with pain she turns towards Hurse, who just cannot pass up such a golden opportunity. He takes her around the neck and sets for a move that would undoubtedly send her to the streets begging for change and pretending to be a crippled war veteran.

Robin’s head becomes trapped in a stunner position as Hurse now charges at the nearest turnbuckle.

Comeau: Disinfectant about to connect and end Robin’s long IWC career.

Susie: Its okay. Once she’s unemployed she’ll have plenty of time to watch My Pet Pony on DVD.

The Black Widow is dragged along right to her demise, Hurse stepping up the turnbuckle and flipping back in order to hit the career ending maneuver. The only salvation for Robin, are the cables, which both her hands now wrap around, keeping her from being pulled back. Hurse flips over and lands on his feet right behind Robin, trying to settle his shaky legs beneath him.

Once stable he throws himself at Brooks’ backside and unfortunately he misses her entirely, instead sailing face first into the turnbuckle. His skull meets the pad, which provides little cushion for his shaken up skull and the collision sends him twisting towards his anxious rival.

A desperation kick nails Hurse in the ribs before she takes him around the neck and prepares to save her career by way of the Spider Bite. Just before Brooks can drop to her seat, simultaneously finishing her ex fiancée off and maintaining some job security, Hurse employs all his strength to dash her hopes.

Brooks is shoved off and forward, finding herself barreling straight towards the referee. A shocked official raises his palms into the air as if they provide even the slightest defense. To his relief Robin somehow is able to pump the breaks and stop just short of connecting with the official.

Both feet become rooted to the canvas, reaching out and leaning with her palms to the referee’s chest.

Mark: That was close….HEY!

Brooks lifts one of those palms into the air and employs it to haul off and slap the official in his cheek.

Comeau: WHAT!?!

The blow has the official reeling but still of sound enough mind to immediately call for the disqualification.

Susie: I think there was a gnat on the referee’s cheek that Robin was trying to swat. Damn gnats, I still have one in my nose. I’d get it out of there but women aren’t supposed to pick their noses.

Mark: Brooks getting herself intentionally disqualified…..I guess that was the easiest way to save her job, seeing as she had to be pinned or forced to submit in order to lose it. That doesn’t mean I have to like this though.

Susie: Me neither. So how about we pout by holding our breath till the decision is reversed?

Mark: You go ahead and hold your breath for as long as that takes. In fact, even when they do reverse the decision just keep holding your breath.

Moore: Shall do Captain.

A weary Hurse lunges out of the turnbuckle towards his former flame, prompting Robin to bail in a hurry. Brooks slips through her ex lover’s fingers just like she slips through the ropes to the safety of the outside mats. Once she lands the mischievous Black Widow retrieves her Submission Title, tearing it out of the time keeper’s hands.

She throws the strap over her shoulder and begins to brim with confidence.

Mark: Robin survives somehow, even after this broke down into damn near a handicap match. I don’t necessarily endorse the way she went about saving her career, but drastic circumstances do call for desperate measures.

Moore: Indeed they do. Like when my parents refused to feed me, and I would just eat plato shaped like spaghetti.

Comeau: That’s not even anywhere remotely close to this incident.

Susie: Your welcome.

Although she just survived one hell of a grueling match Brooks cannot resist the urge to gloat. She chuckles at the thought of denying Hurse what he craves, revenge. Although she may have lost, Brooks still feels like a victor, evident as she raises the Submission Title aloft and begins to back up the ramp. All Hurse can do is watch as steam threatens to shoot from his ears like he were a volcano on the cusp of eruption.

Comeau: Someday, someplace, Robin Brooks isn’t going to be able to weasel her way out of a match against Hurse. He’s going to get his hands on the Black Widow, and when he does, God help Robin, she’s going to regret everything that she’s…..WHOA!

Just as it seemed that Mark was finally going to finish a thought he cuts himself off at the sight of Porno Lad. The crowd pops like they were kernels in a microwave. However, for once the devious Prankster doesn’t want to hear their screams, he gestures for them to shush as she crouches down behind Robin.

Mark: I think the worse thing that Robin could do right now is turn around.

Moore: Not true, because her nose would be right on level with the top of Porno Lad’s head, and more importantly his ultra fragrant locks. I swear, when I sleep next to him at night I think I’m in a beautiful fern gully surrounded by little queer ferries in loincloths.

Mark: Your dreams trouble me.

The rousing ovation leaves Robin slightly perplexed. Her eyes shift in one direction to the next, finding herself officially creeped out by the bi-polar like shift in reaction. Finally her eyes find their way back to Hurse, who in between trying to hide his smile is pointing behind her back. Robin twirls around with the speed of a tornado and looks to do just as much damage.

Upon turning to meet her fate Robin finds herself facing no more than a patch of vacant air. Porno Lad is still crouching and standing behind Brooks. Every time that she turns, he follows along right behind her. Robin is left to shrug, wondering what everyone is warning her about. She turns around to face the ring, with Porno Lad frantically staying behind her back and still crouching.

Mark: Hahaha, Porno Lad remaining behind Robin, I have no idea what his intentions are.

Moore: Maybe he’s about to give her an atomic wedgie.

Robin looks towards Hurse once more, who is still motioning behind her. Although she begins to think Hurse is just playing her for a fool, Brooks twirls around and around and around, looking like a dog trying to catch its tail. Porno Lad remains as elusive as a tail, running in circle after circle behind her until eventually she gives up.

After having spotted no threat of any kind Brooks stops playing Hurse’s little game, blowing him off and pointing to her title.

Robin: Keep on playing games, Steven, that’s all you can do. Because you and I both know that you’ll never, NEVER, be able to beat me in this ring, why? Because….

As she prepares to enjoy the sound of her own voice, Porno Lad prepares himself for a meal. He has removed a bib from his pocket, wrapping it around his neck and letting it hang below his chin. It reads “Kiss the Cook,” but his meal requires no preparation.

Brooks:….I’m a real Submission Champion. I’ve given this belt what you never could, credibility, through my hard work….AAAAHHHH!

She couldn’t get out another syllable before Porno Lad pulled a Shark Boy, digging his teeth right into Robin’s rump.

Mark: He’s biting her straight on the bum!

Susie: Oh great, now when I kiss him later his lips will taste like Robin’s ass. Don’t ask me how I would know what Robin’s ass tastes like.

Mark: I wasn’t going to, until you put the thought in my head.

Robin continues to squeal and leap into the air. She does a Deon Sanders like strut towards the enzone, or in this case, the ring, Porno Lad’s teeth still mauling at her backside. The amount of pain she’s currently in blocks out any rationale thoughts, otherwise she probably wouldn’t be rolling back into the ring for safety.

While it does prove an effective means of forcing Porno Lad to stop his taste testing she puts herself right back into the clutches of the Master of Control. She now falls victim to the Disinfectant! Hurse snatches hold of her skull and rushes up the nearest turnbuckle before flipping back. Robin’s head creams the canvas as Hurse falls to his seat and completes the move.

Mark: The Disinfectant finally connects on Robin. Will she be in for the same fate at the Overbooked Extravaganza?

Susie: I hope not, because my ass is the only one that should have bite marks in it right now.

The Manhattan Center fans are screaming so loud their lungs could pop as Hurse stands over the ultimate victimizer. He crouches over the unconscious Brooks, palms wedged to his knees and head slowly shaking.

Hurse: You better hope we don’t run into each other in the Gauntlet, dear.

Although the fans relish at the sight of Brooks getting her comeuppance, their just as ecstatic by what is transpiring outside of the ring. In all the commotion of having a chunk ripped from her bottom, Brooks dropped the Submission Title belt, which is snatched up into the grubby palms of Porno Lad.

The Co-Submission Champion stands tall at ringside, lifting the sparkling gold high above his head.

Mark: I think Rinse & Repeat have just made a bold statement to not only Brooks but everyone in that Tag Team Gauntlet at the Overbooked Extravaganza. You had better not look past these two.

The Submission Title makes a fitting addition to Porno Lad’s shoulder. His other shoulder becomes covered by Hurse’s palm as the two celebrate and back up the ramp amongst a hailstorm of cheers. Brooks continues to lay in the ring, eyes fluttering but mind possibly already formulating an elaborate revenge yarn.

CHASING THE TRUTH

Christian: Come on, come on, move it, MAU! MAU! DIDDY MAU!

Like a Vietcong guard from the Deer Hunter, Savior orders the masked man about. He holds open the back door to a black stretch limo, frantically waving his associate towards the car. The individual who has targeted so many members of the IWC roster over the past few weeks doesn’t have to be told twice. With self preservation clearly on his mind he dives into the back of the limo and Savior follows.

Mark: I’m glad to see cameras are still following this scene backstage. Christian, and whoever his new friend is, our attempting to get the hell out of the building in a hurry.

The reason they’re fleeing in such a frenzy becomes obvious when Kingdom rushes into the camera’s frame. The steel pipe gripped in his palm is now swung into the taillight of the limo, busting it on impact.

Johnny: Get out of the car!

The pipe is swung into the trunk, leaving a large dent in the surface of the automobile which now speeds towards the exit ramp. The Team Leader tries to keep up with it but the limo accelerates. Now all he can do is throw the pipe through the air, watching as it flies into the rear windshield and busts the glass into thousands of shards.

The tires screeching and Johnny’s deep breathes are now the only sounds to be heard in the parking facility. The limo disappears and leaves a vengeful Kingdom behind, breathing through grinding teeth.

Mark: I shudder to think of what Johnny is going to do once he catches up with those two.

Kingdom spits at the ground and slowly backs away.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

PAY IN FULL

Michelle’s eyes embody that come hither look. They blink slowly and sweetly in the direction of one Patrick James Evans. Despite having his ribs heavily tapped and experiencing excruciating pain in his shoulder, Evans still looks ready and raring to go.

Michelle: Hi, Patrick.

Evans doesn’t bother to respond to the sultry sadomasochist. Therefore Michelle carries on with her interview just outside of the IWC lockeroom.

Blacker: Boy, you look to be in some pretty rough shape. On a scale of 1-10, just how much pain are you in right now? Don’t skim on the gory details.

A look of utter contempt exudes from Evans’ face.

Pat: Your going to have to get your jollies elsewhere, Michelle.

Michelle: What does that mean?

Evans: It means that I’m not about to stand here for two minutes discussing the extent of my injuries. Nobody wants to sit there listening to me bellyache and whine about my cracked ribs and my injured collar bone. I’m not going to beg for sympathy, nor would I accept it. So why don’t we skip over this whole portion of the interview, where you make it sound like I’m a real go-getter, gun-ho type of guy, for competing despite my injuries and get to the part that actually matters.

Blacker: But hearing you describe your injuries is the only part of this interview I care about.

Pat: I’m sure you have a list of generic questions concerning the probability of me winning the Mimi-Rumble, and whether or not I intend to “work” with Christian at the pay-per-view. Go ahead, get out the cue cards.

Michelle: Ugh, fine. I have them somewhere in my purse.

She looks towards the camera, or more accurately beyond it at the stagehands operating said device.

Michelle: Can someone please go find my purse?

Evans: To hell with it, just give me the microphone.

Reluctantly Michelle forks over the mic and Evans conducts his own interview.

Pat: Yes, I do think that my injuries lessen the likelihood that I’ll walk out of tonight’s Mini-Rumble victoriously, but that isn’t going to stop me from competing. I’m a man who has predicated his career on the concept of competition, so injuries or no injuries, I’m still going to that ring to face off with the so called “best” that the IWC has to offer, and Jackson Adams.

He stops speaking as Michelle eagerly, and purposely taps him on his bruised collar bone.

Evans: Yes?

Blacker: I was just going to ask you something.

Pat: Does it have anything to do with me describing how I’ll hurt my opponents? If so, then don’t even bother asking.

She hesitates for a few moments.

Michelle: Um, okay, then I’ll ask a different question.

Evans: Good idea.

Michelle: Why are you going to subject yourself to this match when your pretty much fighting to help Christian retain HIS Tag Team Championships?

Pat: HIS? More like OURS.

Blacker: Explain.

Evans: Think about it Susie #2, the longer that Christian and I hold onto those tag team titles, the more time I’ll have to continue influencing the outcome of his Road to El Dorado matches, and have a grand old time making his life miserable. Don’t you remember the little caveat that Simon added onto Christian’s Road to El Dorado quest? If he wants to face each champion for their title, he HAS to put his Tag Team Titles on the line, which is where I come in. That’s why he wanted to take me out last week, that’s why he tried to cripple me. He wanted to ensure that I wouldn’t be the albatross hanging around his neck, that I wouldn’t be able to cost him anymore gold. But his attempts to debilitate me failed.

Michelle: Then why last week did you actually TRY to help Christian retain his X-Class Title when the Tag belts weren’t even on the line?

Pat: I didn’t TRY to help Christian retain his title, I tried to win the match. I’ll admit that was pretty illogical of me. What I should have done once I had Christian incapacitated, is lie down on the canvas and allow Simon or Too Magnificent to pin me. Buuuut part of me became greedy. I wanted to have my cake and eat it too.

Michelle: Cake is way too fattening, I have a hard enough time cramming myself into dominatrix gear as it is.

Evans: Your missing my point, and being far too literal. While part of me wanted to make Christian suffer even more, the other part of me wanted very badly to beat Simon Cagero. Don’t forget, on the eve of my World Title match Simon derailed my momentum by pinning me in the center of the ring. My ego just couldn’t tolerate another loss to Cagero. I see now, that was a mistake, and when Christian and I emerge victorious from the Overbooked Extravaganza, it’ll be a mistake I won’t be making again.

Michelle: So you intend on not only winning tonight, but at the Overbooked Extravaganza too?

Pat: Perhaps.

Blacker: What does that mean?

Evans: I think my ambiguous comments make things a tad bit more intriguing don’t they? Especially for a certain Christian. He’ll be forced to ask himself again and again, “will he, or won’t he?” Will Evans help me retain the Tag Titles and win another belt, or will he screw me out of two titles at once? Or more importantly, WHEN will he turn against me? Will it be during a Cartel Title versus Tag Title match, or maybe even a World Title versus Tag Title match, or maybe I’ll do it at the Overbooked Extravaganza? The more questions he asks himself and the higher his threat level rises, the better I’ll feel, until the day eventually comes that I end this farce.

That’s right, I’LL end it, not Christian.

Blacker: Can you give us any clue on when the end will come?

Pat: HA! Where’s the fun in that? But I will tell you this much, Susie. Regardless of what happens at the Overbooked Extravaganza, whether that’s the time or place that I cost Savior what he cost me, after the gauntlet is over and done with Christian will answer for this bruised collar bone….

Evans slaps his injured shoulder and neck.

Evans: And he will SUFFER for these CRACKED ribs.

Now both palms strike his badly damaged mid-section.

Pat: And he will pay for costing me the World Heavyweight Title.

The expression on his face adds credence to the sincerity of his words.

Pat: One way or another, Savior is going to feel the pain that he’s caused me.

MIN-RUMBLE

“The Sacrament” now pipes through the PA system, leading to an outpouring of raw emotion. It doesn’t take much time for Riggs to emerge to the stage, head lowered, face enveloped behind his long ebony bangs. As he moves towards the ring the crowd proceeds with its ambiguous reaction, some cheering, others booing. The enigmatic Riggs has proven to be just that, an enigma, leaving the fans unsure of his intentions and unsure whether they should support him.

Mark: Riggs on his way to the ring for one of the biggest main events both figuratively and literally. He’s on the verge of competing with five other athletes in a bid to secure his team the final entry into the Tag Team Gauntlet. It’s almost strange that he’s in there fighting on the behalf of a tandem that was just reunited only a few short weeks ago.

Susie: What tandem would that be?

Mark: Ummm, Riggs and Psycho.

Moore: OHHHH!

Mark: You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?

Moore: Can I just pretend that I do?

Comeau: No you may not. But I would suggest you take more notice of Psycho and Riggs. There’s no telling what these two are going to be capable of headed into the Overbooked Extravaganza.

Riggs now occupies the ring, slouching in a corner, obviously having a lot on his mind concerning both his personal and professional lives.

"Who's your favoritte Wrestler?" Chimes the Voice of Porno Lad

"MMmmm.... Porno Lad" Chimes the sexy voice of a young female.

Heavy notes of the guitar rip through the arena as Porno Lad's Entrance music "Epic Fail" Hits. Porno Lad steps out from the curtain wearing his epic bright blue leather jacket, a pair of black and bright blue customized chaps that have Porno Lad written down the side of both legs and the IWC Submission title around his waist. He thrusts his hips to the music as he struts. He looks up to the audience high above the roster pointing at a hot babe in attendance. The Big Screen shows clips of Porno Lad nailing the Epic Fail on the likes of Hurse, Jackson Adams and Christian Savior.

"You know he's hot you know your not.
You feel the jealousy creep up and down your spine
Your just an Epic Fail.
Your Such an Epic fail
The girls they love it when they see his moves

Porno lad does a spin in the center of the entrance way pointing out to the audience.

"You want to be him
Your Mom wants him
And he'd do her to
if she was hot
if she was hot
he'd do your sister to
if she was hot
His name is Porno Lad
Porno Lad"

PL makes his way down the aisle holding his hand out for the fans to slap his palm.

He gets the girls
He gets the belts
He's the next big thing
And your not
Because your an Epic fail
oh yea
Your an Epic fail

PL strolls over to the announce table he moves to Suzie Moore and pulls her from his seat into his arms and too exchange in a long drawn out make out session. He smirks and then rolls into the ring and quickly spins up to his feet.

You may think your good
but your an Epic fail
such an Epic fail
Greatness is his destiny
Yours is to be a
Epic Fail
Such an Epic fail.

Porno Lad hops onto the top ropes and starts thrusting his hips lewdly before jumping off the top rope.

Susie: That was steamy, and how did you like his new entrance music. I helped write it.

Mark: And here I thought “I’m a Sexy Boy” was horrible.

Susie: HEEEEYY! That was our primary inspiration.

Comeau: Well here’s hoping that Porno Lad is inspired tonight, because he’s going to need a lot of motivation to survive five of IWC’s top talents and secure that elusive final spot at the Overbooked Extravaganza.

Moore: Are make out session should be motivation enough.

Porno Lad turns in the direction of Riggs, who shows the Submission Champion little in the way of interest. The gold that Porno Lad pilfered from a certain Black Widow is now removed his waist and handed to the referee.

YOU BETTER GO AWAY!

The mood in the building is drastically altered, as if the fans were just given a dose of Zoloft. Through the curtains storms the big brooding behemoth known as AWOL. Unlike Porno Lad, AWOL doesn’t gyrate nor does he make out with any commentators, he does nothing but march straight towards the ring. Little ballyhoo surrounds his entrance, AWOL pulling himself up to the apron then stepping over the top rope, here to earn a paycheck and a victory, nothing more, nothing less.

Mark: The Empire represented here by AWOL, who since his return has been downright unstoppable. He’s destroyed almost every individual in his path and tonight he gets his hands on five more combatants.

Susie: He better not get his hands on Porny Porn, because Ethan isn’t into that type of thing. And I’M the only one allowed to molest him. It says so right here in this contract.

Comeau: Ummm, this is written on a cocktail napkin.

AWOL’s menacing eyes continue to dance between opponents, switching from Riggs to Porno Lad and vice versa. It’s at this point that Porno Lad is trying to develop an alliance with Riggs, so the two can drastically improve their chances at winning.

Riggs: I think we both remember how our partnership ended the last time.

Porno Lad suddenly recalls an incident where he locked Riggs in his dressing room and as thus drops his attempts to forge a partnership. He turns towards AWOL and opens his mouth, about to make the same desperate attempt at forming an alliance only to shut up the second he looks into the Big Crazy Bastard’s eyes. “Outsider” pipes through the PA system, resulting in a highly mixed ovation for the mastermind known as Pat Evans. The co-holder of the Tag Team Titles emerges to the stage and slowly descends upon the ring, sporting a variety of nagging injuries. Despite his physical limitations Pat proceeds up the steps and into the squared circle, about to take part in one of the most demanding bouts of his career.

Comeau: I’ve got to give Evans credit for competing here tonight after what Christian did to him last week. He has to have a few broken ribs after taking three spears. THREE spears.

Susie: I bet that’s almost as bad as listening to Britney SPEARS. Hehehe, did you get my little play on words there?

Mark: Yes, yes unfortunately I did, and no, no, you’re still not clever. That’s what Evans is going to have to be, clever, in order to win this match in spite of his medical woes.

Evans swings his arms and limbers up in the corner. As he twists his upper half he grimaces from the pain in his fragile ribs, AWOL taking notice like a shark drawn to the scent of blood.

"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 reactions from the crowd.

"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 just strolls down the ramp with an arrogant cocky grin on his face, he walks up the ramp and along the edge of the ring, he stops and wipes his boots in a cocky like manor on the ring apron before pausing to eye his opponents.

Mark: Talk about a guy who has had a very eventful evening, but will Jackson Adams have something to show for his infamous reign as King for a Day?

Susie: He could always steal the toilet paper and the hand towels from the executive washroom.

Mark: Can he give his team a HUGE advantage going into the Overbooked Extravaganza?

Jackson finds himself on an island surrounded by a sea of foes, hence the reason he’s yet to fully enter the ring. He just lurks on the apron, watching his opponents through a set of cautious eyes. “Animal I’ve Become” plays and lets the crowd know that one of the most deranged individuals in the history of the IWC is now on his way to the ring. A cold chill goes up Jackson’s back as he glances over his shoulder at the arriving Too Magnificent, his former Alpha Generation stablemate. However, Too Magnificent is about to relive past alliances, he’s here to hurt people, evident by the malicious expression on his face and the rage inhabiting his eyes. He moves towards the ring with speed while pyrotechnics shower him with golden sparks from above.

Comeau: Here comes a man who’s spirit has been renewed, if not reborn. He’s been on the cusp of something great since returning, and a victory in this match could push him past that threshold.

Moore: Plus he uses a lot of peroxide on his hair, that’s how you know he’s awesome.

Mark: Hair dye aside, Too Magnificent is just the type of powerhouse that thrives in this type of environment. He won’t be easily eliminated, that’s for damn sure.

Once in the ring Too Magnificent surveys his competition and actually begins to laugh. Now that all six combatants are present in the ring chaos is on the eve of ensuing. The bell chimes and the madness gets underway.

Mark: The bell has rung, the start is here, this ladies and gentlemen is our main event, probably the biggest, both figuratively and literally in IWC Riot! history. Now I know I’m usually prone to hyperbole, but just look at the talent in the ring, it’s like the Harlem Globetrotters.

Susie: I love the Globetrotters. They let me practice with them once until they found out I didn’t have down syndrome and wasn’t with the “Make a Wish” foundation.

Expectantly Jackson breaks the ice by cutting through the bodies straight towards AWOL. He throws a fist straight into the big man’s mouth, possibly fracturing a tooth or two. At the same time Too Magnificent prevents an assault from the encroaching Riggs by dropping a Dusty Rhodes style elbow to the top of his opponent’s head.

Mark: And we are underway ladies and gentlemen. This match off to blazing speed.

Moore: Just like the Flash, only there’s no witty dialogue.

Mark: Not with you doing the talk at least.

By process of elimination Evans finds himself trading shots with Porno Lad. Even his bandaged ribs do not impede Evans from connecting with some vicious haymakers. Despite the stapled wound in Porno Lad’s forehead, he can still take a punch and return one as well.

The opening shot to the chin has AWOL staggered, falling spine first against the top rope as Jackson already tries to eliminate him. He works quickly, realizing he won’t have a better opportunity to put AWOL away. He sticks one large leg over his shoulder and leans into it, growling and grinding his teeth as he tries to bear the weight of his former stablemate.

Mark: Look here, Jackson already trying to get AWOL out of the ring, but he’s not budging.

Susie: He’ll probably need a crane.

A forearm so vicious it almost severs Jackson’s spine, connects with Adams’ back, bringing him down to his knees. AWOL then grabs him by the hair, stands the King and tries to pitch him to the mats like he were no more than a foul commoner.

As he ascends over the top rope, Jackson makes sure to clasp hold of it, fortunately landing on the apron.

Mark: Adams almost found himself eliminated right off the bat.

Jackson stands up straight just as a savant kick drills him to the temple. The kick was delivered with almost MMA style impact from AWOL’s muscularly defined leg. Just when it seemed that if Jackson had any luck at all, it was bad luck, he surprisingly spills to his back but doesn’t tumble off of the apron. He wraps his arm around the bottom rope and prevents tumbling completely to the mats.

The moment that AWOL spots this he naturally fills with anger. He didn’t come here tonight to put in overtime, especially if it’s unpaid overtime. He turns to take off across the ring only to run right into the open palm of Too Magnificent.

AWOL finds himself in unfamiliar territory, snatched around the throat and about to be hoisted into the chokeslam.

Mark: You’ve got to be shitting me.

Susie: Oh, is that what that odor is? Thank God I wear adult sized diapers.

Comeau: Is Too Magnificent actually about to CHOKESLAM AWOL?

Too Mag grabs the back of AWOL’s tights and is in the process of heaving him into the air when Riggs delivers a running kick to the back of the brute’s knee. The hardcore goliath staggers forward, limping on his leg and breaking the goozle. AWOL has no idea that Riggs just saved him as he spins around and delivers a lariat to the back of Too Magnificent’s head.

The blow knocks Too Magnificent forward into the ropes, causing him to almost spill over to the outside. Riggs tries to assist him in his transition to the outside, grabbing his tree trunk sized leg and lifting up on it. Before long AWOL steps in and actually begins to assist Riggs, taking hold of the other leg. They lift at the same time while Too Magnificent wraps his arms around the rope pressed to his chest.

He holds on like Sylvester Stallone gripping the hand of a damsel in distress, but unlike Cliffhanger, he doesn’t let go.

Mark: Ummm, just to add even more speculation to this hotbed of mystery, but has anyone noticed that Riggs and AWOL are already working together?

Susie: I did, but only because I love Riggs’ makeup and AWOL’s head is so shiny.

Despite all the pressure being put on him Too Magnificent continues to cling to the ropes like they were a newborn infant. Meanwhile, the action involving Porno Lad and Pat Evans only escalates to an early climax.

Porno Lad attempts another right hand, this one being ducked however. Porno Lad swings completely around and Evans stands up the second his opponent’s back is exposed. Within only a few moments of the match beginning Evans already locks on the Time to Go to Sleep. The reaction is quite favorable, the fans popping at the sight of the rarely seen submission maneuver.

Mark: Oh my, Pat is going to force Porno Lad to pass out then eliminate him. This is actually pretty good strategy, as I doubt anyone was expecting submissions to be a prominent feature in this match.

Porno Lad dashes the ambitions of Evans by planting his feet and charging backwards, attempting to drive him into the ropes. However, Evans plants his feet and prevents being pushed over the cables in such as a contrived fashion. Instead he breaks his hold and goes for broke, hooking the co-Submission Champion’s arm then hoisting him up for the Spinal Tap.

Or perhaps, more nefariously, Evans was attempting to half nelson suplex Porno Lad over the top rope. No matter what his intention we’ll never know, because Porno Lad transitions in mid-air, catching hold of Pat’s neck then dropping to his feet in a DDT position.

Although he could easily drop back and bust Pat’s skull, he opts for a more painful procedure. He hoists Pat into the air in a vertical suplex but drops him gut first on the top rope. The technician ricochets from the cables and lands on the apron, grabbing at his already bandaged and now targeted ribs.

Comeau: Those bandages a double edged sword. They’re drawing a lot of attention to his injured ribs.

Susie: I think they could still use some color, or maybe some stickers. At least throw some glitter on those things, their far too drab.

Pat is tempted by the possibility of an early elimination thanks to the pain in his ribs, but chooses to fight instead.

The same miraculous effort is being put in by Too Magnificent, who lobs his elbow into the orbital socket of AWOL. After having experienced the trauma of repeated eye rakes at the hands of the Brat Pack over the past few weeks, the pain from his pupil is quite exacerbated. AWOL breaks away from the golden one, who employs the same strategy against Riggs.

This time his elbow is ducked, Riggs dodging the blow that sends Too Magnificent into a spin, his back wedged to the cables in a more precious position. He has no idea that Jackson is stepping up behind him and grabbing both arms. He hooks the creases of Too Magnfiicent’s elbows and holds him in position for Riggs, the two working in collusion for the time being to eliminate a common threat.

Mark: Here’s something I didn’t think we’d see, Riggs actually working with a member of the Brat Pack’s inner circle.

Susie: Maybe they’ve offered him some of their frequent plastic surgery miles.

Mark: That had to have been the most unfunniest, nonsensical thing I’ve ever heard. Congratulations on topping yourself once again.

Moore: Yes, I’m pretty pleased with myself as well.

Comeau: I guess living a life of utter mediocrity entitles you to see these blunders as actual accomplishments.

Susie: Darn tootin.

Too Magnificent continues to be in quite the predicament as Riggs comes charging across the ring. He dives into the air for the forearm only to have his opponent employ his freak strength to break free from Jackson’s clutches. As a result Adams is exposed to the full brunt of the forearm, a blow that sends him flying off of the apron.

Mark: Adams is eliminated, no, WAIT!

To the surprise of everyone, on his way down Jackson had the wherewithal to grab the middle rope. His feet may dangle above the mats but they are far from touching, meaning his chances of winning are still valid. He demonstrates that he still has quite a good chance of earning the win by skinning the cat back into the ring.

His shins land right on Riggs’ shoulders, and before the Painted Warrior realizes what’s happening, he’s spun around into the head scissors and sent flipping through the air.

Throughout this riveting suspense, Porno Lad and Evans are providing their own drama. With Pat poised for elimination on the apron, the prankster drills him time after time to the jaw with peppering blows. Somehow Evans maintains a grasp on the top rope, refusing to go over.

That’s when Porno Lad rushes at the perpendicular cables, springs off of the middle one and prepares for a dropkick. Just as he turns around after springing from the cables he finds himself shocked to land on the palms of Too Magnificent.

Comeau: This cannot be good for Porno Lad.

Moore: Put him down this instant. Although this does prove my point. When I wanted to form my own cheerleading team I kept telling Ethan he was light enough to fit on the top of the pyramid, but he didn’t believe me. Now I have documented proof.

Mark: Do you even listen to the words that come out of your mouth?

Susie: Not really.

Porno Lad is held high above Too Magnificent’s head and is now being carried towards the ropes. He is on the verge of being thrown over with a military press just before the Original Prankster grabs Too Magnificent’s hand, removes it from his throat and sinks his teeth into the index finger.

The blinding pain causes Too Mag to drop the former N.H.B Champion who lands on his feet before his monstrous foe. He continues to get a helping of Too Magnificent meat before the golden one tugs Porno Lad by the teeth into a knee to the ribs.

He is doubled over and Too Magnificent quickly wraps his arms around his waist, setting up for the powerbomb. That’s just as Pat pulls himself over the top rope, crashing shoulder first directly into Too Magnificent’s chest, knocking both men to the canvas.

Mark: This action almost too frantic to keep up with. Just like in our opening bout, there are several matches going on here.

Susie: I’m not even going to try.

Comeau: Big surprise.

AWOL is still blinking his eye, trying to overcome the trauma of that rear elbow from Too Magnificent. This distraction poses quite a danger, one that Adams capitalizes upon. He rushes up behind AWOL and grabs him by the back of the head and pants, trying to charge him into the cables and lazily toss him over.

Nope, not tonight, AWOL’s going to make him WORK for it. He grabs the top rope with both hands, blocking Jackson’s plans. His steadfast resolve is tested when one of his knees are kicked, weakening his strong footing. Jackson now begins to deliver forearm after forearm to AWOL’s upper back, acting the part of a lunatic, a recently escaped asylum patient, Lindsey Lohan after one too many hits of X.

He won’t stop delivering forearms until AWOL is doubled over, and his grasp on the top rope begins to weaken.

Comeau: Adams is absolutely obsessed with eliminating AWOL.

Susie: Just like I’m obsessed with the movie Tron. It was so bright and colorful, although the seizures weren’t very fun.

The upper back of the Big Crazy Bastard has become blood red as Jackson reaches down and clamps his arms around one of the thick legs. He heaves upward on it but AWOL will not go over so easily. It isn’t until Riggs delivers a knife edge chop to the kidneys of Adams that he abandons his effort.

He spins around and is made to pay for his earlier head scissors by way of a straight headbunt from Riggs. The shot topples Jackson, who rolls around awkwardly blinking his eyes in an attempt to remain conscious. After securing AWOL, Riggs turns back towards Evans and tries to thin out the herd by targeting the weakest member.

He charges at Pat, who’s bandaged ribs expose him to the elements. Unfortunately the lost soul charges into the shoulders of Evans, who had the gumption and good timing to back drop his inbound opponent over the cables. Riggs grabs the top rope though and lands on the apron with the poise of a feisty feline.

Evans swings around for a haymaker only to be caught by the back of the neck and dragged throat first into the top rope. His neck ricochets from the cables and he comes staggering backwards into the waiting clutches of AWOL.

The Big Crazy Bastard drags an arm through his legs and hoists Evans up into the Daisy Cutter. Disaster is avoided by a mere fraction of a second as Evans is able to twist his body and slip up and over his opponent’s shoulder.

He lands right behind AWOL, having no idea that Adams was lurking behind the Big Crazy Bastard. He doesn’t realizes this until he’s grabbed by the back of the head, doubled over and charged shoulder first right into the ribs of an unsuspecting AWOL.

Mark: Jackson using his opponents as weapons like they were pawns on a chessboard. Will this strategy prove effective or only further alienate Adams from his opponents.

The shoulder to the ribs has sent AWOL stumbling towards the ropes and falling back first against them. Now his opponents have decided that the best way to send him packing is to work as a team. Despite having been used as a battering ram, Pat puts his hard feelings for Jackson aside as the two grab hold of AWOL’s legs and lift them into the air.

Even Too Magnificent gets in on the fun, stepping in and wedging himself under AWOL’s backside. The Big Crazy Bastard holds on for all he’s worth, double fisting the ropes as his opponents really put their backs into this attempted elimination.

Comeau: Sound strategy by the participants in this Mini-Rumble. There are always strength in numbers, and I’m sure AWOL can’t argue with that logic.

Susie: I’d argue with you, but I don’t even know what logic means.

Mark: It’s something you’ll never possess.

Susie: Like a penis?

Comeau: Yes, like a penis.

The three on one advantage is proving effective, AWOL seemingly seconds from being the first man eliminated from the Rumble. However, Riggs tries to prevent this from occurring. He steps quickly across the apron and wedges himself under AWOL’s upper back. He plants his feet firmly to the apron and begins pushing AWOL back towards the ring.

Mark: Now Riggs BLATANTLY helping out AWOL. He’s keeping him from being eliminated. There’s GOT to be something to these rumors.

Susie: Okay, okay, I’ll come clean. I’m the Limburgh baby.

Comeau: Susie, your only 22.

The little added leverage that Riggs provides is just the key AWOL needs to hang in there. Finally Porno Lad breaks up the melee, driving a forearm over Too Magnificent’s upper back then popping Jackson to the jaw. The three men break away from AWOL and stagger towards the center of the ring.

AWOL’s feet come back down to the canvas, crashing to them with greater emphasis than ever before. His eyes then look up to spot the extended palm of Porno Lad. Obviously the prankster is looking for a common ally to assist in thinning the numbers.

The Big Crazy Bastard reciprocates the gesture with a resounding handshake followed by a skull cracking headbunt. Porno Lad is taken down to the canvas with a thud, AWOL towering over him and wearing an expression of utter apathy.

Mark: Porno Lad acting the part of an eighties era Sting, the ultimate good guy, but he just offered his hand to the ultimate villain.

Susie: But he’s yet to grow a handlebar mustache, nor does he have a trademark evil laugh.

Comeau: Everything evil about AWOL is on the inside, Susie.

Evans has now turned his attention towards Adams, brushing him away with a knife edge chop to the sternum. Jackson spirals towards a turnbuckle, falling against it while both arms wrap around his welting chest. The man who cost him his X-Class Champion steps in and attempts to cost him much more.

He steps up the turnbuckle and straddles Jackson’s chest, launching a series of closed fists down into his forehead.

The crowd does the obligatory count along, reciting the number of each punch that lands in this succession. If it weren’t for his possibly cracked ribs there might be a little more bang behind each jab, but what Evans has to work with still proves effective.

He is nearing a full ten jabs when Riggs runs across the apron and leaps to the turnbuckle behind Adams. He finds himself face to face with Pat, reaching out and hooking one of his arms. The crowd squeals at the possibility of Evans being hip tossed off the turnbuckle and crashing to the mats from such an extreme height.

However, Evans delivers a straight open hand palm strike to Riggs’ chest, causing him to end any attempt at a hip toss. Riggs covers his chest just as Evans bends forward, sticks his head under his seat and then back drops him from almost the top rope back into the ring.

Riggs flips as he flies through the air and crashes upside down spine first into an unsuspecting Too Magnificent’s sternum. Both men plummet to the canvas with Riggs coming down on top and the crowd exploding.

Comeau: Absolutely stunning. Pat back dropping Riggs into the ring, and in the process sending him flying straight into Too Magnificent. We’ve really seen some terrific action in this bout thus far.

Susie: You have, I’ve been napping.

Comeau: I’ll tell you this much, despite his physical limitations, Evans has actually hung in there….YIKES!

The reason Mark ended his sentence on such an outburst correlates to the shocking elimination of Evans at the hands of Adams. Jackson slipped out from under a distracted Evans, placed both hands to his seat and shoved him. As a result Pat flies over the top rope, twists and crashes to the apron. WAIT, he’s still hanging in there.

Mark: Just as I sing his praises, Evans is elim….hey, look at this, he hasn’t been eliminated!

Susie: Ohhhh. Can someone go backstage and prepare his trashcan for him so that he can take a nap?

Mark: He is not Oscar the Grouch, he happens to be a very talented grappler who over the past few weeks, including tonight, I’ve developed an appreciation for. Somehow he’s still in this match.

Evans’ heart is in his throat, having deluded himself into believing that his participation in this match was at an end. But no, he’s still in there despite Jackson’s best efforts. Once Adams realizes this he becomes enraged and looses all control of his senses. He charges at Evans and throws a wild right hand that is blocked and countered with an open hand palm strike to the cheek.

The sheer force of the blow scrambles Jackson’s head and exposes him to a front chancery. Pat now employs all the strength he has in his injured body to hoist Adams into the air with a vertical suplex. Jackson dangles upside down for only a second before being released and dropped to the outside mats.

Mark: Ohhh, Evans just suplexed Adams out of the ring and that leads to the first elimination in this Mini-Rumble.

Moore: Well, like I said earlier, if he wants something to show for tonight there’s plenty of stuff to steal out of the GM’s office. I’d start with the paintings on the wall.

The crowd is nowhere near as heartbroken as Adams over his elimination, their adrenaline is still surging as the action continues in the ring. After reentering the ring Evans is given exactly “zilch,” in terms of time, to celebrate this elimination, because within seconds he falls victim to a release over head half nelson suplex. AWOL plants him directly on top of his head.

Evans’ whole body folds up like an accordion before springing from the canvas and flipping over onto his knees. He looks at the world through dazed eyes, teetering back and forth. Somehow he remains conscious long enough for Riggs to recover and come charging in with the shinning wizard.

The blow connects with such force that Evans is almost rendered unconscious. He falls to his back with Riggs landing off to his side, chest heaving as he tries to get control of his breathe.

Mark: Evans learning the hard way that pride comes before the fall.

Susie: What comes after the fall?

Mark: I don’t know, watching a Lord X promo?

Riggs now slowly ascends to his feet while Too Magnificent is desperately trying to get up behind him. Neither Riggs, nor AWOL, nor Porno Lad, or anybody for that matter is aware that the golden goliath is being assisted by an outside party. Simon has popped up at ringside, coming out from under the ring with a finger raised to his lips and a trashcan held in his hand.

Mark: What’s Simon doing here? I didn’t even see him come to the ring. Is there a tunnel under there or something? Is this like the Great Escape?

Susie: I don’t know, if it’s not animated, and it’s not rated G, I’m not allowed to watch it.

Simon’s call for the crowd to hush is unheeded, the fans incapable of keeping their emotions in check at the sight of the controversial Cagero. The trashcan is now slid into the ring under the ropes where it ends up in the clutches of Too Magnificent. After depositing the weapon Simon heads back under the ring.

Mark: He’s giving a trashcan to Too Magnificent. But I guess there are really no rules to break in this type of match.

Susie: What about the “no shirt, no shoes, no service” rule?

Comeau: That rule was broken ages ago when Rikishi used to wrestle in a thong.

With trashcan in hand Too Magnificent rises to his feet and turns in the direction of a prone Porno Lad. The headbunt he received from AWOL still has him on unsure footing. He turns slowly, about to receive another brain jarring blow only to leap into the air and dropkick the trashcan directly into Too Magnificent’s sternum. The collision causes Too Magnificent to stumble backwards into a turnbuckle, which he falls against for support.

The Original Prankster anxiously rises to his feet and comes bolting towards Too Magnificent, who now allows the trashcan to dangle from his palm. As Porno Lad takes flight, Too Magnificent lifts the trashcan into the air and wedges it to his chest, causing his opponent to crash into with a big splash.

Mark: Too Magnificent sacrificing himself to take out Porno Lad.

The Co-Submission Champion collapses to the canvas and rolls across it, gripping at his very badly damaged mid-section. Too Magnificent is equally as worse for wear, the turnbuckle the only thing keeping him propped on his feet. His trouble standing isn’t made anymore easier once AWOL comes storming in and delivers a modified face-wash, his boot flying over the top rope and cracking Too Magnificent in the jaw.

Mark: What a running Chono style kick from the amazing AWOL. That might have knocked a few teeth loose.

Moore: I call dibs on them. I’ll use the teeth to make a necklace.

At this point Riggs has scooped Evans up to his shoulder, holding him in a running powerslam position. Instead of driving his prone opponent into the canvas though he charges at the ropes, which Pat reaches out and grabs hold of. He kicks his legs frantically, trying to prevent being thrown forward and over the cables into an elimination.

Mark: Evans on the verge of elimination. This would definitely spoil any confidence he had over throwing Adams out.

Susie: Noooo, I think he’d still find something to brag about. Probably the perfect size and shape of his nipples.

Pat is still gripping the ropes like his life depended on it. Riggs has had enough, wedging his palms to Pat’s stomach and shoving him up into the air. As a result Evans is sent flipping over the very ropes he’s still holding onto, but in mid-flight he twists his body and comes down feet first onto the apron.

Comeau: God, Evans just REFUSES to be eliminated, hanging in there injuries and all. He’s like a worm you just can’t get on the end of a hook.

Riggs rushes at his opponent but gets a taste of Pat’s elbow. A forearm strike sends the Painted Warrior twisting back towards the center of the ring where Porno Lad is waiting. Without delay the Epic Fail connects with resounding success.

Mark: Porno Lad putting his boot right down Riggs’ throat with the Epic Fail!

Moore: Riggs should feel honored. Not very many people get the privilege of being that close to Porno Lad’s feet. Their glorious. I put the toenail polish on them myself.

The reaction from the crowd rocks the Manhattan Center, reverberating through every corridor and concession stand. Porno Lad is about to give them a lot more to celebrate. Despite being hunched over still suffering the effects of that splash into the trash-can, he takes off at Evans, trying to be the man to send the clever competitor packing.

Pat realizes just how urgent his situation is, bending forward, sticking his head under the ropes and under his inbound opponent’s rear-end. He stands up, back dropping Porno Lad over the ropes to his elimination. But no…WAIT….much like Evans, Porno Lad’s hands found their way to the top rope and he’s come down right alongside his opponent on the apron.

Comeau: Now Porno Lad is in the same boat with Evans.

Moore: I hope it isn’t a gay cruise.

Pat offers up another serving of elbow, this time giving Porno Lad a late supper. The shot knocks Porno Lad back a few steps but it doesn’t send him plummeting to the mats as Pat had hoped. Therefore Evans develops a new strategy. He grabs Porno Lad’s wrist, spins him around on the apron and then hooks his arm, setting yet again for the Spinal Tap.

Mark: Oh no, oh gosh, Pat is about to deliver that move on the apron. Porno Lad is on his way out.

Susie: If he is, he had better take me with him, and we had better be going to the Red Lobster.

Pat’s confidence is soaring like a majestic eagle, before it crashes like a vulture picking at roadkill. Porno Lad is able to free his arm then give Evans a treat in the form of a reverse elbow to the ribs. Pat turns away from PL, reaching for his mid-section before he’s grabbed around the neck then swung around into an unthinkable maneuver. Porno Lad swings with enough force to connect with a roll of the dice spinning diamond cutter, planting Pat’s face against the apron. Evans’ skull ricochets from the canvas and his body flies into the air before ultimately meeting with the outside mats.

Mark: Pat eliminated. He’s gone, finito! Au revoir, auf wiedershen...

Moore: Bratwurst.

Comeau: Obviously your not multilingual.

Susie: Not true, I can do all kinds of things with my tongue.

Mark: It’s almost a shame to see Evans go after his truly gutsy performance. He put his all into this match but in the end his injuries caught up with him.

If Pat were conscious he’d definitely be outraged at this point, but thankfully, for his sake, he isn’t. Porno Lad slowly sits up on the apron, beginning to show signs of fatigue thanks to this fast paced, traumatizing bout. He is so winded in fact that he barely even notices the figure rushing down the ramp and right around the ring. Robin tries to be discreet as she descends upon the time keeper and tears the Submission Title belt out of her clutches for a second time tonight.

Mark: Hey, it’s Robin and she’s taking the Submission Title back!

Susie: No fair. It didn’t even get a chance to enjoy some of my home brewed tea.

Robin looks likes like the title were her long lost infant, reunited to her at last after a lengthy separation. She smothers the belt with kisses then obnoxiously lifts it up high for the crowd to behold the many lipstick impressions left on the gold.

She now cradles the championship closely to her chest and moves towards the ramp, making as quick a get away as possible. She ensures that no one, no force on the planet will once again deprive her of the belt she’s fought so hard to retain.

Mark: She’s hitting the road with the belt in tow.

Susie: Hasn’t she ever heard of sharing? This is just like when I refused to share my Stretch Armstrong doll.

Mark: Are you sure this is an actual memory from your life, or are you just basing this on a commercial?

Moore: Hmmm, good question. Maybe I should ask that nice gecko who is always trying to sell me car insurance.

Brooks is positively gushing over her gold, wedging it to her cheek as she now steps past the still unconscious Evans and proceeds up the ramp.

Mark: And she is off with the belt. I don’t think Porno Lad is going to like this one little bit.

Susie: I don’t either. I had lots of plans for me and that Submission Title, very naughty, naughty plans.

Comeau: The less details the better.

It takes Porno Lad a minute to regain cognizance but once he does the first thing his eyes do are shoot towards the belt. The gold twinkles upon Robin’s shoulder, returned, according to Brooks, to its rightful place. Now that she’s a safe distance away from Porno Lad, she has no problem taunting him with the gold.

Mark: Robin is a truly classless individual.

Susie: And thanks to Porny Porn, she’s now ass-less too.

Before it dawns on him what he’s doing, Porno Lad pursues Brooks and his title, dropping from the apron feet first to the outside mats. He doesn’t even realize the folly of his actions, having just unintentionally eliminated himself from this battle royal. Before he can even hear the referee confirm this, the Original Prankster is taking off up the ramp, headed right after Brooks who has disappeared backstage.

Mark: No Porno Lad, what was he thinking?

Moore: You have no idea the hypnotic power of sparkly things.

Mark: Apparently that title means more to him than finishing this match, or he just doesn’t realize that he’s eliminated himself.

Once again Mark’s speculation perfectly hits the target, Porno Lad not even looking back as he storms through the curtains. Neither of his opponents could care in the slightest, considering that he just drastically increased the odds of them winning.

AWOL is looking for an elimination by more legitimate and straightforward means. He’s got Too Magnificent by the hair and is forcing him up onto the top rope of a turnbuckle. He now begins to deliver uppercut after uppercut to Too Mag’s jaw, causing him to bite his lip which starts spewing blood.

Another uppercut rocks Too Magnificent and almost sends him plummeting from the turnbuckle to the outside mats. On the eve of dashing another opponent’s dreams, AWOL’s spidey sense kicks in. He turns just in time to spot a recovered Riggs barreling towards him.

On instinct, apparently, he catches Riggs coming in and throws his light body over his head. Riggs sails into Too Magnificent’s shoulders, landing right on top of them then dropping back into a frankensteiner. The gargantuan frame of the Magnificent One flies through the air and connects spine first with canvas.

Mark: Uhhh, more teamwork, dazzling teamwork at that between former mentor and pupil. Boy are those “rumors” starting to look more and more like facts.

Riggs is in prime position for an attack but instead AWOL concentrates on Too Magnificent. He approaches him and grabs the hair of his plus sized opponent, forcing him up to his feet then showing surprising agility by leaping into a knee strike to the temple.

The blow has cleaned Too Magnificent’s clock, sending him tumbling into the cables where Riggs and AWOL once again work together to try and force him out.

Susie: I wish Porny Porn were still out here, he’d stop this double teaming, he’s a champion for human rights. He’s just like the Green Latern.

Mark: Well, I don’t think we’ll be seeing anymore of Porno Lad tonight, Susie, so you had better quash that desire.

Moore: It’s okay, I’ll be seeing plenty of him after the show. Until then I can just sit here reading this Clifford boo…..

Before Moore can continue be the childlike adult everyone knows and loves, a huge potato sack is thrown over her head and shoulders.

Mark: What’s going on here? Take your hands off of her!

Neither Katelyn Buehler nor Katie Steward listen as they drag Susie over the barricade and into the crowd. Comeau stands up to give pursuit but he is too slow to keep Moore from being carted off in the arms of both Brat Pack members. Security passes the commentator by, leaping the barricade and pursuing the kidnappers.

Comeau: Ladies and gentlemen, I don’t…don’t…know quite how to say this, but Susie Moore has just been kidnapped. The Brat Pack has done it AGAIN!

The fans are in shock over what they just witnessed, the abduction of the ever so adorable color commentator. Mark shares in their shock, looking between the ring and into the crowd, torn between his job and his desire to right this injustice.

None of the men in the ring suffer from conflicting emotions, Too Magnificent concentrating entirely on keeping himself in this match, and AWOL and Riggs preoccupied with eliminating him.

Mark: I’m going to….I’m gonna try to keep my head in this match, but it sure is difficult after what just went down. The Brat Pack, for the second time, have kidnapped somebody, this time by broadcast colleague. I wonder if Robin taking back the title was to lure Porno Lad away from ringside. Yes, yes, it’s all starting to make more sense now.

The plight of Too Magnificent becomes the focal point of attention once again as he tries to headbunt his way out of his current dilemma. His skull bashes Riggs’ face, knocking him to the canvas, then the top of his elbow connects to the bridge of AWOL’s nose.

Somehow he has saved himself from sheer disaster. At once he looks to decrease the advantage being used against him, taking Riggs by the hair and throwing him over the ropes. What he hadn’t counted on was the sheer resiliency of Riggs, who grabs the top rope and lands on the apron, preventing his elimination.

Too Magnificent doesn’t realize this even as he grabs AWOL by the back of the head and begins forcing him up to his knees. Obviously he’s got the same intention for the Big Crazy Bastard, tossing him over the ropes into an elimination. Unfortunately for the golden goliath, his stooped forward posture allows for Riggs to perform a slingshot DDT.

He leaps over the ropes, twists in mid-air, catches Too Magnificent around the head and plants him skull first into the ring.

Mark: I’m still having a lot of trouble concentrating on this match, but based on what I’m seeing, I can tell you that Too Magnificent is having an incredibly rough time fighting two opponents at once, especially opponents the caliber of Riggs and AWOL.

The collision with the canvas leaves Too Magnificent slightly concussed, easily prey for the tandem of AWOL and Riggs. They escort him to his feet and each grab an ear before charging him at the ropes. At the last second Too Magnificent displays his unimaginable strength by shoving both men off into the cables.

Riggs and AWOL hit the ropes and come back in at the big man who catches them both around the throats.

Comeau: NO WAY!

The fans share in Mark’s disbelief as Too Magnificent prepares for a double chokeslam on both his opponents. They prove too crafty to be ensnared by this trap though, delivering a double kick to his gut. Too Magnificent is doubled over as they both take him around the neck.

Mark: Now AWOL and Riggs setting up for a double suplex. They’re going to try and eliminate Too Magnificent just like Pat Evans eliminated Adams from this match.

They back towards the ropes, ensuring that Too Magnificent will spill over them upon completion of this maneuver. Despite the ambiguity over their relationship the two continue to work as a cohesive unit, now hoisting Too Magnificent into the air on the verge of bringing this match to a one on one confrontation.

To their dismay however, Too Magnificent shifts his weight and comes back down feet first to the canvas. It’s at this point that he leaves absolutely everyone in the building breathless by hoisting BOTH his opponents over into a stereo vertical suplex.

Mark: OH MY GOD!

Every jaw in the building has dropped as Riggs and AWOL hit the canvas and arch their spines from the pain. Too Magnificent remains seated on the canvas, huffing and puffing, but not trying to blow a house down, instead he’s using what little time he has to recover, and using it wisely.

Comeau: Absolutely shocking. That’ll be on a highlight reel in the future I’m sure. Too Magnificent showing inconceivable strength by dropping both AWOL and Riggs with that stereo vertical suplex. Man this guy is just a monster.

Too Magnificent continues to display some feral tendencies by taking hold of the trashcan that has already served him so well. He lifts it into the air then approaches the slowly rising AWOL, cracking him right over the head with the can.

A big dent is left in the surface of the steel and a crack may have formed in AWOL’s cranium, yet somehow, someway, the Big Crazy Bastard is on his feet. His eyes may be fluttering and he may teetering, on the brink of collapsing, but he stays upright and even clinches his fists, still ready for a war.

His fists only become unclenched in order to catch the trashcan thrown straight at his face. He plucks it out of the air just in time for Too Magnificent to deliver a pump kick that puts the steel right back into AWOL’s face. The collision sends AWOL tumbling THROUGH the ropes and to the outside of the ring.

Mark: AWOL not eliminated by virtue of the rules, but he may be out of this match after that sickening kick landed by Too Magnificent.

Now it’s Too Magnificent who is teetering but has yet to go over. He plants his feet, rooting them to the canvas like a tree, a tree about to be attacked by a lumberjack. He turns in time to spot the inbound Riggs, the Painted Warrior leaping into the air and twisting through it with a shin kick.

It’s a kick that proves ineffective in dealing with the plaguing Too Mag problem because the big man ducks it and takes off into the ropes. He ricochets from the cables and comes back in at Riggs who leaps into the air and delivers a perfectly timed spinning heel kick.

Comeau: Riggs may have the fastest feet of any competitor I’ve ever seen, as he just demonstrated with that face crushing kick. And ladies and gentlemen, if I get any details on security’s attempt to catch the Brat Pack I’ll keep you informed.

Too Magnificent looks very dazed by the kick, his eyes awkwardly blinking as he slips in and out of consciousness. Although he would love to just go to sleep the big man keeps his mind planted in reality, slowly sitting up on the canvas. This is just as Riggs bounces from the ropes and comes rushing back in, ready to unload with the shinning wizard.

His shin flies directly into Too Magnificent’s face but fails to connect. The crowd once again finds themselves speechless at the sight of Too Mag catching the inbound leg before it could connect to his face and roaring as he rises to his feet.

All his features are blood red, and veins throb from his temples and neck, letting everyone, Riggs especially, know that he’s got bad intentions for his opponent. Riggs hops on one foot, the other trapped in Too Magnificent’s clutches then thrown upward into the air.

This gives Riggs the opportunity to once again dazzle the fans by performing a standing back flip and landing straight on his feet. Before Too Magnificent’s eyes can even fully continue widening, Riggs steps off his hip and delivers an enzugari to the back of his skull.

Mark: AMAZING!

The blow takes Too Magnificent’s legs out from under him and sends the golden goliath tumbling forward into the ropes. He falls against them chest first, arms dangling over the cables in a very bad position.

Comeau: Too Magnificent in the wrong neighborhood, Riggs on the verge of eliminating him and then facing AWOL in the final two. Riggs is no stranger to this type of environment, remember, in his debut match he placed third in the Rumble Bash, and competed for over an hour. He fell short in that match, but this is his chance to fix his past mistakes.

With paint melting away, just one indication of Riggs’ exhaustion, the warrior reaches his feet and watches his opponent instinctively use the ropes to reach his feet. If Too Magnificent were more conscious of his predicament he would surely stop leaning chest first against the top rope, making him a very easy target.

Obviously Riggs realizes this, prompting him to charge into the opposite ropes to gain a lot of momentum for a move that would undoubtedly seal Too Mag’s fate. At the precise moment that all looks lost for Too Magnificent, his guardian angel once again appears.

Simon rolls out from under the ring and this time raises a glass brick into the air, quickly placing it in the palm of his partner. Upon securing it’s position in Too Magnificent’s hand, Cagero returns to his sanctuary.

Mark: What did Simon give Too Magnificent now?

Riggs is none the wiser as he ricochets from the ropes and comes back at Too Magnificent, running right into the glass. Too Magnificent turns and shatters the brick right into Riggs’ face, shards flying in all different directions.

Comeau: Ohhh, it was that brick, and Too Magnificent just busted it against Riggs’ face. That was disgusting!

In lou of the sheer gore factor, Too Magnificent’s actions prove effective in leaving Riggs incapacitated yet still upright. Riggs is in a perpetual daze, stumbling and staggering all over the place, blood beginning to seep from his scalp. Just as it dribbles down his cheek Too Magnificent grabs him by the back of the head and tosses him right over the top rope.

Mark: And there he goes, Riggs eliminated thanks to that glass brick to the face. Talk about a bad way to bite the dust, but at the very least he once again survived till the final three.

Riggs has still yet to regain consciousness or realize that he’s been eliminated. He doesn’t even see Simon lifting the tarp and peeking out from under the ring no matter how close he may be. This doesn’t stop Cagero from pointing and laughing at Riggs then dropping the tarp and once again hiding his position.

Comeau: We are now down to two ladies and gentlemen, two men fighting it out in what has been one of the craziest battle royals I’ve ever witnessed.

As AWOL slides back into the ring Too Magnificent wastes no time taking the fight right to him. He steps over broken shards of glass and delivers a clubbing blow across AWOL’s upper back, bringing his opponent down to all fours. He quickly pulls AWOL by the jaw to his feet then delivers a headbunt, followed by a knife edge chop that would cave in a normal man’s chest.

This sudden series of strikes has AWOL so discombobulated that he falls back into the ropes, leaning spine first against the middle one. To the horror of the audience AWOL finds his upper body hanging over the apron and his lower half still positioned in the ring, almost sitting on the middle cable.

Too Magnificent backs up slapping his forearm, looking to KO AWOL and in the same move secure victory. No more time is wasted choreographing his next strike, Too Magnificent rushing in and swinging with the forearm. Sadly for the golden goliath he rushes right into the arms of AWOL. The Big Crazy Bastard reaches over the ropes and wraps his biceps around Too Magnificent’s waist, looking to belly to belly suplex him over the top rope.

Mark: OH MY! This is exactly how AWOL defeated Simon Cagero in the Rumble Bash years ago!

While Cagero may have fallen prey to AWOL’s craftiness, Too Magnificent proves too powerful to suplex over the cables. He grabs the top rope and the back of AWOL’s head, pulling his cranium into a skull splitting headbunt.

Comeau: No, Too Magnificent refusing to let AWOL repeat history.

Raw strength is on display as Too Magnificent hoists AWOL up to his chest and begins carrying him towards the ropes.

Mark: Look at this, look at this. What power.

Too Magnificent reaches the cables and drops AWOL, but instead of falling to the outside he lands on the apron. The big man tries to stomp at the knuckles of AWOL’s fingers, the very fingers clutching the middle rope. Each blow fails to break AWOL’s grin on the cables though, still hanging in there in spite of it all. He even goes as far as to start standing up as Too Magnificent reaches through the cables and engulfs his throat with both hands.

All of Too Magnificent’s strength is employed to push AWOL from the apron, but his grip on the cables is unbreakable.

Mark: AWOL so close, so very close to being eliminated. Too Magnificent has survived so much, AWOL is his final obstacle on the way to victory.

Finally AWOL swats the hands away from his throat and launches a punch through the cables into Too Magnificent’s temple. The punch connects with such force that it knocks Too Magnificent not into next week, but next year. He falls to his back and rolls towards the center of the ring while AWOL slowly pulls himself up.

Mark: AWOL just barely avoiding being sent to the back. How these guys are able to continue fighting even after everything they’ve been put through is truly miraculous. It’s…..hey now, enough of that!

Cagero has come out of seclusion once again, this time directly influencing the match by wrapping his arms around AWOL’s ankle. He tugs and tugs, trying to pull the big man down from the apron and cause his elimination. AWOL grabs the ropes with increasing urgency, pulling them into his chest, clinging to them like there’s no tomorrow.

Mark: Get off of him Cagero, you know better than this.

Obviously the man who emerges on the stage has seen enough. Johnny Kingdom marches down the ramp with that steel pipe once again in his possession.

Comeau: The World Champion on his way to the ring and for good reason. He’s not going to let Simon cost his partner this match or interfere any longer.

The second that Cagero spots Kingdom inching towards him and more importantly the weapon in his hand, Simon breaks away from AWOL and attempts some smooth talking. No matter how suave and manipulative Cagero may be, Johnny is not falling for it. He points the pipe straight at Simon, having no issue whatsoever with taking out his frustrations on the X-Class Champion.

Mark: Kingdom playing the role of a cop to serve and protect.

Simon continues to back away, implying that he was merely giving AWOL a leg massage to prevent cramps. Cramps are the last thing AWOL should be worried about as Too Magnificent comes storming towards him.

The Big Crazy Bastard has just reentered the ring when he finds a knee connecting to his jaw. The shot connects with enough force to pop him back up to his feet, falling spine first to the ropes.

Mark: AWOL still in a very bad way here after taking that trashcan to the cranium. I don’t foresee him lasting much longer. This could be just the opportunity Too Magnificent has been waiting for.

Although it seems fairly evident that Too Magnificent has AWOL on the verge of elimination he decides to play it safe. A boot nails AWOL to the ribs and doubles him over, putting him right into position for a front chancery. Too Magnificent clamps his arm around AWOL’s neck and looks towards the heavens, already picturing him and Cagero entering the ring at the Overbooked Extravaganza and leaving with all the titles.

Mark: The Midas Touch is going to finish AWOL off for sure.

In this moment a thousand wonderful fantasies flash through Too Magnificent’s head, almost failing to realize that his Midas Touch is being counted into a back drop. AWOL stands up, throwing Too Mag over his shoulder and over the top rope. The crowd explodes as Too Magnificent spills to the mats and crashes right across them.

Mark: AAAAHH! He’s gone, he’s eliminated, he’s eliminated!

The crowd is absolutely elated, exploding with emotion as AWOL falls to all fours, hyperventilating.

Comeau: It’s over, and it ends in thrilling fashion. AWOL pitched Too Magnificent to the outside, countering the Midas Touch, and it was just the counter he needed to pick up the win.

While Cagero watches on with sadness, Kingdom wears a huge grin on his face. He slips into the ring behind AWOL, celebrating almost as if he won the match. Instead of allowing the ref to raise the Big Crazy Bastard’s hand in victory, Johnny volunteers for the role. He grabs his partner’s wrist and lifts it up high.

Mark: AWOL surviving an absolute classic of a battle royal and now he’s just guaranteed that he and Kingdom will be the final team to enter the gauntlet challenge. What a victory, what a match, what a night!

An AWOL chant shakes the very rafters, everyone embracing this win like it were a million dollar check from Publisher’s Clearing House. Even after all the physical abuse that he’s tolerated AWOL still has the power to stand and celebrate a win that may have just guaranteed his team the victory. He stands side by side with Kingdom, both men’s arms raised into the air, but will it be the same sight beheld at the Overbooked Extravaganza.

At ringside Simon is patting Too Magnificent on the back and ensuring him that he did his best and ALMOST won over five of the IWC’s best and brightest.

Mark: Too Magnificent came here tonight and put on a show, coming in second in what was one of the most grueling battle royals I’ve ever called.

The celebration in the ring continues, the Empire standing triumphant, Kingdom grinning despite his many frustrations, and AWOL smirking despite his many injuries.

Comeau: An emotional, historic win for AWOL tonight, but what’s going to happen when he and Kingdom compete against six teams at the Overbooked Extravaganza? Will they leave with more gold, or any gold? Tune in to the pay-per-view and find out who will be champion after the Tag Team Gauntlet.

FADE TO BLACK