CUT OUT YOUR TONGUE

Teeth as white as glaciers consume the screen. The camera draws back from these huge chompers and settle on the very lovely, yet equally as white face of Michelle Blacker. She forces a grin even though it hurts her cheeks to sustain it.

Michelle Blacker: I swear if I have to smile like this for five more seconds I’m going to rape the director…..

She is suddenly cued into the fact that the show is now live, prompting her to speak through gritting teeth.

Blacker: Yeah, it’s me, backstage Blacker. I’m standing outside this dressing room….

An outstretched finger directs focus to the door just off to her side.

Michelle:….waiting to get a word with either Psycho or Riggs, who went on an absolute tear through the roster last week, attacking Axl Evermore, Too Magnificent, Johnny Kingdom and the World Heavyweight Champion, Simon Cagero. Here’s hoping they’ll give me a minute of their time to explain their actions and to possibly put out a lit cigarette on my skin for old time sakes.

She shambles in a zombie-esque fashion towards the door and is on the verge of reaching out before she’s blindsided. From behind the camera storms none other than Too Magnificent, making his way out of an adjacent corridor. Michelle was just reaching to knock before being swatted aside like an insignificant gnat. It’s Too Mag’s fist that raises towards the door at this point and begins banging until the hinges almost burst.

Too Magnificent: PSYCHO!! PSYCHOOOOO! Some old friends want to pay you a visit.

The camera lowers to reveal a trashcan hanging from his palm, one he intends on putting to good use tonight.

Too Magnificent: Open up and play, Psycho. Come on out and plaaaaayyy!

There is no response at the door as the bandaged up Too Magnificent actually cuts loose with a demented chuckle. His blood red face surges with insanity as he reaches up and rips one of the bandages off of his forehead, revealing the singed flesh beneath.

Too Magnificent: Oh, you want to play hide and seek do you? Well I’m great at this game. Hide in your shower, hide behind the couch or in the closest, it doesn’t matter, because I’ll still find yooooouuu. Or maybe I’ll force you to come look for me. I do have a few juicy SECRETS I could share with the crowd. Secrets I’m sure you wouldn’t want getting out

His forehead slams against the wooden door, leaving an indentation of his skull in the surface.

Too Magnificent: Open up! OPEN UP!!

No sounds can be heard emanating from within. Finally he lifts his foot and with all his strength kicks at the door.

Too Magnificent: HERE I COME!

The hinges shatter like glass and the wood cracks as if it were as thin as paper. Too Magnificent now storms in, eyes teeming with rage, and body tense with anger. He eyes immediately cut to Psycho, who casually lounges on a couch, arms thrown over the head rest, one leg crossed over the other. He wears an inviting smile on his face.

Psycho: So glad you could join us old friend.

Before Too Magnificent can ask what he means by “us” a Singapore cane slams against his upper back. The shot takes him down to his elbows and knees, leaving him entirely exposed to another blow from Riggs’ weapon wielding hands. The cane almost shatters over his upper back at this point, bringing him down to his stomach. Psycho leaps from the sofa and immediately removes a railroad spike from the back of his pants.

Psycho: We’ll see how many SECRETS you divulge after I cut out your tongue.

The Sadistic One drops to the concrete beside Too Magnificent, the angered volcano rolling to his back. The edge of the spike is then pressed against the very burnt flesh that he tore the bandage away to reveal. A barely conscious Too Magnificent calls out in pain as blood begins to trickle down his face.

Psycho: Come on, tell ‘em now! I don’t hear anything about secrets. All I hear are a little girl’s screams. You didn’t think we knew you’d be coming, you didn’t think we’d be ready for you?

He twists and turns the spike back and forth, ripping and tearing deeper and deeper into his flesh. The point is on the verge of scraping skull before security rushes in. The men in bright yellow shirts have grown a back bone, obvious by their willingness to leap in front of Riggs, forcing him back. They tangle up the arms of the Sadistic One, physically prying him off of Too Magnificent.

Too Magnificent: Let them go! LET THEM GO MOTHERFUCKERS!

Too Magnificent forces his way up through the security guards, shoving them aside and using them as crutches as well. He gets to his feet with a stream of blood pouring down his face, concealing every inch of flesh behind a river of crimson. One guard is tossed into the wall and another to the floor as Too Magnificent makes his way into the dressing room and begins throwing fists at a restrained Psycho. Finally his arms are grabbed and the victim turned victimizer is forced back into the hallway.

Too Magnificent: Your dead, do you hear that Psycho. Hahahaha, I’ll bleed, let the blood POUR! But it’ll be your blood flowing by the end of the night you son of bitch!!

He laughs even as blood spills over his lip and into his mouth. It takes a small army to keep him pressed against a wall, and prevent Psycho and Riggs from departing their dressing room.

OPENING VIDEO PACKAGE

RIOT!

Fireworks are exploding, fans are standing, derivative signs flail in the air, screams fill the arena, Riot! is LIVE.

Mark Comeau: This is Mark Comeau here in the Manhattan Center for what is already proving to be a chaotic night as we kick start Riot!

Fox Arcane: And what better way to kick start the night than listening to the real deal sex appeal, the womanizer the victimizer, Fox Arcane.

The camera briefly cuts to Fox behind the announce table, looking so pompous it almost makes one’s skin crawl. The crowd gathered around the barricade behind him seem quite enamored with Arcane despite his egotism.

Comeau: Indeed, tonight I’m joined by the newest acquisition here in the IWC, Fox Arcane. Let me be the first to welcome you here to the IWC.

Fox: Believe me, Mark, plenty of women were far more eager to welcome me.

Comeau: The real story here thus far tonight was the attack we just witnessed moments ago from the backstage area. Too Magnificent looking for revenge against Psycho and Riggs after throwing him in that flaming dumpster….

Fox: The words flaming and Too Magnificent go hand in hand together.

Mark: But they were waiting for him and they got the drop on the Magnificent one.

AXL EVERMORE VS. JON RICH

You can't
deny-e-y-e-y
I'm unbreakable!
Unstoppable!
I'm invincible!
Come on bring it to me
Cuz I'm always gonna be
Unbreakable!

The unmistakable voice of Jon Bon Jovi is heard singing the chorus to Unbreakable before the pyros explode. The song plays again as Rich is seen energetically coming from the backstage area. He is clad in tights half red and half black. His boots match the color of the tights with an “R” in the opposite color. His vest is white with “The Real Deal” in red on the back.

The former N.H.B. Champion screams for the people that are cheering him. He begins to jog down the isle while slapping the hands of the fans that cheer him on.

Rich rolls into the ring and runs to a corner, jumping on the middle turnbuckle to perform to the fans. All the while Evermore stands back and actually claps for his opponent.

Mark: I guess we’re going straight from the action backstage to the action inside of the ring. Last week we saw the return of Jon Rich to the IWC, and boy did he ever make a splash.

Fox: Yeah, most people that fat do make some pretty spectacular splashes.

Comeau: And here I thought that since Susie wasn’t out here I’d stop being taken literally. In actuality Jon is in great shape, especially considering that he’s been sidelined for over a year with a debilitating arm injury.

Fox: I guess not everyone is as impervious as yours truly, which you’ll see later tonight when I match up with the greasiest man alive, the walking blooper reel, Pat Evans.

Mark: Your going to be tested later tonight in much the same way that Jon will be tested here in just a few moments. He’s competing against a man who was all but too eager to get him in the ring tonight.

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

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

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

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

Arcane: What the hell is that thing?

Comeau: That’s Axl Evermore.

Arcane: It’s human?

Mark: It’s actually one of the most phenomenal athletes on the planet. Evermore a former Cartel and Submission Champion who is showing some true grit by performing here tonight even with a damaged larynx. In fact, he actually DEMANDED this match against Rich tonight.

The crowd gets very anxious at the sight of Evermore and Rich limbering up in opposite corners, maintaining eye contact with one another throughout the process.

Mark: Well ladies and gentlemen, if you want to see the definition of wrestling you’ve tuned in at the right time.

Arcane: The definition of wrestling? Oh, you mean watching greasy guys fight in tight fitting spandex.

Comeau: I’m actually talking about wrestling as an art form, Fox.

Arcane: Ha, how can Jon and Axl be considered art? They’re all flab no ab. Maybe if your talking Van Gogh art or something.

The bell chimes in the background prompting Jon and Axl to step forward, briefly bumping knuckles.

Arcane: Oh God, someone get me a barf bag please.

The two men begin circling one another, fingers twiddling in anticipation of the tie up. Finally their hands interlock and they start jockeying for positioning with the Greco Roman Knuckle Lock. First it’s Rich who is pushed back a few steps before he plants his feet and forces himself forward once again. Evermore takes a few steps back but roots his shoes to the ring.

Every muscle in Jon’s body is utilized to force Axl over backwards, causing him to begin bridging over in reverse. His feet remain planted to the ring as well as the top of his head, forced into almost a crab like position. Jon stoops down at his side, still trying to force his opponent’s shoulders to the canvas.

Mark: Jon trying his best to use this knuckle lock to put Axl’s shoulders to the ring.

Fox: You mean he calls those scrawny little things shoulders? I have shoulders like boulders sweetness.

Axl is using all his leg strength to keep himself bridged above the canvas. Jon makes it a little more difficult for him though by leaping into the air and coming down knees first on top of his stomach. Somehow Evermore is still bridging though, not taken down by the weight of his opponent.

A stunned former N.H.B Champion leaps from the well defined abs of Evermore and tries to come down knees first into his gut again. However, before he can land Axl drops out of his own bridge and lifts his feet into the air, placing them to Rich’s midsection. He pushes off and sends Rich flipping over, landing on his back with the top of his head touching the top of Axl’s, their bodies forming a straight line across the canvas.

Evermore now flips back with their knuckles still interlocked and attempts to land on top of Rich. Jon uses Axl’s own strategy against him, lifting his feet into the air and wedging them to Evermore’s ribs. Rich sits up in the process and causes Evermore to land on his boots.

With hands still interlocked and feet still wedged to Evermore’s stomach, Jon is raised up into the air as his opponent stands. Axl is on his feet with Rich still burying his boots into his gut and keeping their fingers clasped. This only lasts for so long before Evermore attempts to shove his opponent off. However, Rich shows some amazing timing and agility by breaking one hand away from Evermore’s and transitioning in mid-air, to wrap his legs around Axl’s bicep.

He falls to the canvas and rolls Evermore over onto his back, applying a cross arm breaker submission.

Mark: What a beautiful transition into that submission hold.

Arcane: If you want to see beauty put me in a room full of mirrors. This, THIS isn’t beauty. This is like Rocky’s face from Mask.

The crowd finds itself split, some cheering for Rich, others more enamored with their hometown hero. Axl twists from side to side, trying to find his way out of this wonderfully executed hold. He slowly turns himself towards his opponent in the process of standing. Eventually he gets to his feet albeit bent forward, putting all his weight into the back of Rich’s legs and compressing his shoulders to the canvas.

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Jon is forced to break his own submission hold and roll back in order to prevent being pinned. He gets to his feet and rushes forward only to have Axl sweep his legs out from under him. The second that Rich’s back hits the canvas Axl falls on top of him with the lateral press.

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Jon gets his shoulder up from the canvas, turning to his knees in the process. Evermore stands up and steps over his back, hooking both arms into a full nelson camel clutch.

Comeau: Nice series of transitions yet again with Evermore going to the full nelson clutch off that attempted pin. Something tells me we’re going to be seeing a lot of holds in this match as these two try to feel one another out.

Fox: Last time I felt someone out it was backstage in the janitor’s closet ten minutes before the show got started. Speaking of which, I forgot to zip up.

Axl shows no mercy with his hold, applying as much pressure as it takes in order to get the better of Rich. Jon begins to slip across his knees in order to free himself from this predicament, going further and further under the legs of his opposition. Finally he slips right under Axl’s seat and frees his arms in the process. He then hooks Evermore’s thigh and pulls him down into the school boy.

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Evermore rolls back out of the pin to his knees and in the process grabs Rich’s arm. He forces him down to the canvas into the textbook Fujiwara.

Mark: Here is just one of many holds that Axl has mastered throughout his wrestling career.

Arcane: Don’t you mean the ONLY hold he’s mastered?

Evermore bridges from the canvas to apply even more torque on the arm of Rich, strategically focusing his attack on the very appendage that was injured and kept his adversary sidelined for so many months. Jon proves that his arm is now the strongest part of his body however as he begins to force his way up and out of this hold.

Axl rises as well, still leaning back putting as much pressure as physically possible on the arm. Finally both men are up and Jon suddenly swings his other arm out across Axl’s back. He wedges his fingers under Evermore’s armpit and then drops to knees, countering the Fujiwara into a back slide.

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Evermore drops back out of the pinning predicament to his knees, forced to break the hold. He lands on his knees and immediately takes advantage of his opponent’s positioning. With Jon still kneeling on the canvas and bent forward he is a perfect target for the Flipside. Axl reaches out and hooks both of Rich’s arms, rising to his feet and then heaving Jon into the air.

Rich is only briefly held upside down before falling back to his feet. Evermore again attempts to lift him only for Jon to land on his feet then actually drop back. The former Cartel Champion goes flipping over Jon’s shoulder and crashing to his back on the canvas. He still has both arms hooked, causing Jon to land spine first on his chest.

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Evermore breaks the lock on the arms and wraps his own around Jon’s waist, bridging both men up from the canvas.

Mark: What a wonderful series of counters and transitions thus far in this match, leading to that near pin by Rich.

Arcane: This match is as boring as your commentary, Mark.

They bridge to their feet and Evermore quickly twists around to hold Jon in a precarious position. He has him stooped forward with Axl’s arms wrapped around his waist. Before Jon can figure out whatever his opponent has planned he spins his way out of this predicament. In the process of escaping he grabs hold of Evermore’s wrist, then stands up at his side.

He turns to face Axl and uses his opponent’s own arm to pull Evermore forward into a short clothesline. Axl ducks it and in the process hooks the crease of Rich’s elbow before falling back into a bridging half nelson suplex.

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The screaming fans only grow louder the moment that Jon’s shoulder escapes the canvas.

Mark: You don’t see that very often. A bridging half nelson suplex almost did Rich in.

Fox: I’ll tell you what else you don’t see very often, a man as talented on the mic as he is in the ring and in between the sheets.

Comeau: Yes, I do like to think of myself as multifaceted.

Fox: HA! Don’t delude yourself old man, the only way you get stiff is when rigamortis kicks in.

Rich falls to his stomach and rolls across the canvas, the back of his neck and head perhaps bruised by that hold. The determined Evermore steps over Jon’s upper back and pulls him up into yet another full nelson clutch.

Mark: Evermore wisely going back to the hold and targeting the back of Rich’s neck in the process.

Such force is applied on the hold that Rich’s chin almost touches his chest. He closes his eyes and grits his teeth, trying to fight, struggling valiantly.

His whole body shakes as he attempts to rise to his feet. Although Evermore may not earn the submission he knows that this hold is starting to inflict a lot of wear and tear, draining his opponent of his energy. Evermore finally ascends to his feet but is still strapped in the full nelson. He twists from side to side, wiggling like a fish at the end of a hook.

Axl refuses to break the hold though, only clamping down even tighter. Finally to the surprise of everyone, Jon twists his body enough to free himself and wrap his legs around Evermore’s ankle. Axl finds himself hit with a drop toe hold, sending him plummeting throat first into a nearby middle rope.

Mark: Ohhh, that may have just aggravated the throat injury Psycho inflicted on Evermore with those steel chairs.

Arcane: Something tells me that the less Evermore is able to speak the best. Besides, it gives me more time to grace the ladies with my harmonic tone.

Comeau: Oh please Fox, your voice sounds like a mixture of Gonzo and Oscar the Grouch.

Evermore’s throat bounces from the middle rope and he rolls to the center of the ring clasping at his neck. Rich suddenly realizes what he’s done, watching through wide eyes as Axl grips at his previously injured neck. Although he does so with a heavy heart, Jon realizes that a win must come at any price. He stands up and steps to the laid out Axl’s side. With a sigh of remorse he leaps into the air and comes down knee first into Axl’s larynx.

Fox: Ahhh, now things are starting to get interesting.

Mark: Evermore targeted Jon’s old arm injury so it’s only fair that Rich should go after Axl’s throat.

Axl rolls to his side, gasping for air only to be pulled by the shoulder to his back. He’s now stretched across the canvas as Jon extends a leg and plants it across his throat.

The gagging Evermore sits up, having a lot of trouble breathing at this point. Rich swoops in behind him and clamps his arms around Axl’s throat, applying a rear naked choke trying to end this bout mercifully. Mark: Jon doesn’t want to debilitate Axl, he just wants to do enough damage to win this match by forcing a quick submission.

Arcane: That’s his biggest problem then. He should be trying to take this flabby bastard out of commission. When I step in the ring you’re going to see NO holding back. The only holding you’ll see is when the ladies get their hands on me.

Fox proves as abrasive as the hold being employed by Rich. He really musters up all the strength he can to put behind this rear naked choke. The move seems to be proving effective as Axl’s face turns bright red. In spite of the oxygen deprivation Axl forces himself up to a knee, Jon stooped over behind him still exerting pressure on the hold.

Mark: Evermore is actually getting up, trying to fight out of this predicament.

Fox: I would have been out of this hold ages ago.

Evermore desperately throws a back elbow into the ribs of Rich, followed by another blow. These shots begin to weaken Jon’s grasp until it is almost broken. Jon now realizes what he has to do, grabbing Axl’s hair and rushing forward at the ropes. He leaps over them to the outside and pulls Axl head down throat first into the top rope.

The force of the collision sends Axl’s head whiplashing back as he staggers to the center of the ring gasping for air. A remorseful Rich climbs to the apron and grabs the top rope, stomping both feet in anticipation. Finally he springs to the top rope and takes flight, soaring half way across the ring to connect with a lariat straight to Evermore’s throat.

Axl is taken down with Jon rolling past him but then quickly scrambling into the cover.

Comeau: Two shots to that tender neck yet again, will it be enough to put Axl down?

Arcane: Probably. Because while Evermore’s neck is scrawny my neck and my pecks are as big as my checks. And you better believe my check has more zeroes than an Ugly Betty convention.

The gasping Evermore lays on the canvas with both legs hooked, Rich desperate to end this.

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Evermore will not be thwarted quite so easily. His shoulder leaps from the canvas, showing Rich why he has made a career out of overcoming injuries. Jon sits up on the canvas, mumbling incoherently to himself.

Mark: Evermore kicks out, showing just how much he wants to win this match.

Arcane: Why? There’s not even a title on the line. I don’t give my all unless there’s gold to be had or cash to be made.

Comeau: Well apparently some competitors actually wrestle for the love of the sport.

Fox: Then they need to have their heads examined.

Rich slips in behind Evermore, sits him up on the canvas and applies another rear naked choke. He knows that this may be the one kink in Axl’s armor that he can exploit for the victory. Evermore, injury or no injuries, refuses to stay down for long, sluggishly beginning to force himself upward. Jon is still clamped on tightly, applying the full force of his power on his opponent’s neck.

Comeau: Axl again trying to reach his feet.

The Fully Loaded member gets to an upright base with Jon still applying as much pressure as humanly possible upon the hold. Suddenly Axl falls to his seat though, connecting with a jaw breaker. The counter would normally get his opponent to break the hold but Rich still has him trapped in the rear naked choke, refusing to let go.

Evermore grunts and grimaces as he reaches his feet, Jon standing up behind him, twisting and wrenching at the neck. This time Axl takes off, rushing towards a turnbuckle with Rich tugged right along behind. He drops into the turnbuckle and causes the side of Jon’s face to hit the top pad.

Mark: Nice counter from Axl to avail himself of this hold.

The collision with the corner has Jon’s brain scrambled, evident as he shakes his head and shambles about the canvas. Evermore realizes that this is just the opportunity he’s been waiting for. He pulls himself up with the aid of the turnbuckle and then comes charging towards his disorientated prey. Evermore rushes right into an absolutely brutal discus lariat.

Rich spins all the way around and connects with every bit of the maneuver right to his opponent’s throat. Axl is taken down forcefully to the canvas with Jon landing on all fours beside him.

Arcane: Finally.

Mark: Axl may need a breathing tube after that move.

Jon again crawls into the cover, hooking Axl’s far leg and leaning with all his weight back first to his opponent’s chest.

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Evermore’s shoulder leaps from the canvas yet again, resulting in a deafening roar from the crowd.

Mark: Jon ALMOST picking up the win, but Evermore refuses to go down. This has certainly been the most competitive match for Rich since his in ring return.

Rich struggles to reach his feet, grunting and groaning throughout the process. He finally does stands up and in the process grabs Axl by the hair. His damaged opposition reaches his feet just as Rich charges him towards the ropes and attempts to jump over once again in order to drag him down throat first into the cable. However, this time Evermore counters. He wedges his hands to Rich’s upper and lower spine and physically throws him over the cables the moment Jon’s feet disembark from the canvas.

Jon flies over the top rope as a result and to the surprise of everyone lands straight on his feet on the outside mats. He then goes tumbling side first into the barrier, bouncing off of it with his ribs taking much of the impact.

Comeau: You can’t be too repetitious against Evermore, sooner or later the guy is going to catch on and make you suffer.

Rich rubs at his wounded mid-section and staggers away from the barricade, unbeknownst to the returning star, Evermore has slipped to the apron behind him. Axl now rushes across the apron and dives forward, both knees colliding with Jon’s upper back and launching him forward into yet another barrier.

Fox: How amateur.

Comeau: I don’t see anything amateur about that Fox, Axl putting his knees into Rich’s back and doing a lot of damage in the process.

Fox: Well, I guess every maneuver looks amateur when compared to my dazzling array of moves.

Rich continues to lean over the barrier, griping from the pain coursing through his frame just as Axl steps in and delivers a blast to the back of his shoulder. Evermore takes him by the bangs and leads Jon towards the ring, where he is rolled in under the ropes. Jon ends up in the center of the ring as Axl follows, still rubbing at his throat in the process. Finally he reaches his opponent and takes Jon around the jaw, slowly leading him up to his feet.

Rich looks too shaken to defend himself as Axl now goes for the boot to his ribs in order to set up for the Fully Loaded stunner. Unfortunately for Axl his foot is caught in the clutches of Rich and pushed down to the canvas. The momentum of the leg whip sends Evermore twisting completely around just in time to spot Jon charging in.

Rich walks right into a knee to the gut though that doubles him over, Evermore quickly hooking both arms as he now sets up for the Flipside.

Comeau: Axl determined to end this match now.

Arcane: Excellent, the less we have to put up with this sportsmanship bullshit the better.

Axl finds his opponent stooped over in perfect position for his modified Falcon Arrow. His plan is quickly thwarted however, when Jon stands up, attempting to back drop Evermore over his shoulders. Axl transitions in mid-air though, instead floating over and landing right behind his opponent.

Axl wraps his arms around Jon’s waist and drops into a backwards roll. He ends up seated on the back of Rich’s thighs, folding him up and going for the pin.

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Rich kicks out, launching Evermore forward. He charges into the far cables, bouncing off then comes back in at Rich just as his opponent has rolled to his feet. Rich quickly goes for the spinning back heel kick only to have his foot caught by his inbound opponent. This time it’s Jon’s leg who is pushed down, causing him to spin around and turn right into the Fully Loaded Stunner.

Axl catches Jon around the neck and sets up for one of his patented moves.

Mark: Axl finally going to hit the stunner.

Fox: Get it over with already. You would have seen my finishing move at least a dozen times by now.

Jon is just about to fall victim to his opponent’s trademark when he suddenly drives his knee up into the kidneys of Evermore. Axl breaks his stunner attempt and bridges over backwards, Jon trying to wrap his arms around his neck and set up for the Get Rich Quick.

The fans rise in anticipation of seeing the move only to have their hopes dashed. Evermore has other ideas, dropping to his knees and pulling downward on his arms, causing Jon to go flipping over his shoulder as he tries to hold on.

Rich rolls across the canvas to his feet and stands just as Axl comes charging in. Evermore looks as if he’s got things well in hand until he finds himself trapped in the small package.

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Fans grab their chests out of the shock of seeing Rich catch Evermore with the unexpected small package into the pin and the victory. They are just as stunned as Axl, who kicks out a fraction of a second too late and now sits on the canvas, eyes wide and mouth gaping open.

Mark: Jon pulls it off with a small package ladies and gentlemen, he’s just pinned Evermore after a tremendous back and forth bout.

Fox: He wins with a roll up? How anticlimactic.

Comeau: After everything they hit each other with Jon catches Evermore with a move as simplistic as the small package.

The fans are on their feet cheering for what was a very hard fought encounter between two of IWC’s best and brightest. Although very fatigued Jon still has the strength to reach his feet. Evermore however, remains on his knees in quiet contemplation, still nursing his injured throat. In a rare sign of respect Rich extends his palm, holding it out towards a conflicted Evermore.

Mark: This is what we need to see more of here in the IWC.

Arcane: Two heterosexual oiled up men rolling around half naked on the canvas?

Mark: Erm no. I’m talking about sportsmanship. I can’t remember the last time we’ve seen a handshake to both open and close out a match.

Rich keeps his hand outstretched for what seems like an eternity before Evermore finally takes it. As Axl stands the two men continue shaking hands, receiving a loud roar of applause from the crowd.

Comeau: These two men just put on a hell of a match against one another here tonight, if I were wearing a hat I’d take it off to them right now.

Fox: I never wear hats, they shadow too much of my natural beauty.

Although the two continue to shake hands out of a sign of respect it isn’t long before Axl pulls Jon in close and begins to whisper something to him. Before the fans can figure out what’s going on their attention diverts to the stage.

Christian: YAAWWWWWNNNN

The mood in the building has officially been killed once Christian Savior steps to the stage. Instead of showing his appreciation of the effort he just saw in the ring, Savior wipes his eyes and continues yawning as if he just woke up.

Mark: Why in the hell must Christian always ruin the moment?

Dan Douglas’ personal liaison continues yawning and stretching while Rich and Evermore drop the handshake and clinch their fists.

Savior: I think I just found a natural cure to insomnia.

More boos filters from the mouths of the fans, who were far more excited by the previous match than Christian apparently was. To make matters all the worse, from behind Christian now emerges several Riot! clad security guards.

Christian: Thanks guys, I haven’t slept that great in months. Not since I was forced to sit through Orlando Cruze’s last World Title reign.

The heckling becomes so bad that security begins surrounding Christian for his own protection.

Savior: But now the time has come for Riot! to get interesting. And we can’t exactly start entertaining people with the likes of you two in the ring….

Jon and Axl shake their heads at the sight of Christian guffawing at their expense.

Christian: Soooo, if you would kindly leave the ring with my security detail then we can actually give the fans what they paid to see. I think I know what these New Yorkers want, besides artery clogging foods and mass quantities of liquor, I’m talking about the TWILIGHT ZONE!

Mark: Good lord no.

Savior: So adios gentlemen.

Evermore and Rich hold their ground as security begins to surround the ring, batons in hand.

Comeau: Christian having security take Evermore and Rich out of the ring. Notice he doesn’t do it himself seeing as how close these two men have come to ending his career on prior occasions.

Arcane: Well Mark, it was fun while it lasted, but I think Christian’s gonna call me to the ring to be his guest on the Twilight Zone. At least he will if he actually cares about ratings.

Mark: I suppose we’re going to have the indignity of seeing the Twilight Zone….next.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Greatest Cameo Appearance of All Times

THE TWILIGHT ZONE

Fireworks are exploding yet again, this time to signify the start of the eagerly anticipated Twilight Zone. A talk show Christian thought was of such vital interest to his adoring fans that it superseded the importance of a finish to the previous match. Seated once again in the center of the ring, head lowered, hair obscuring his face, is Dan Douglas’ liaison, one Christian Savior. He lifts a mic to his lips beneath the wall of hanging bangs.

Christian: I’ve taken the liberty of cutting off the commentators…..

Mark Comeau and Fox Arcane are shown behind the announce table shaking their heads.

Savior: Because I want nothing, NOTHING to interrupt this moment. Take a second ladies and gentlemen and enjoy the sights, the sounds of normalcy, because in just a few moments everything is going to change.

The fans dread what Christian impending point. He leans even further on his stool and begins to offer the very explanation that has the crowd cringing.

Savior: There will be sweeping change in the head office, in the ring, and in the pecking order around here. Change may be feared but evolution is a necessity. In order for one to not only survive but thrive in their environment they must evolve. The time for evolution is now, and the time of the old ways are over.

His hair is kicked back and he raises his head to reveal his face, a face obscured behind an old Xavier mask. If the crowd wasn’t cringing before, now they look like they’ve just sucked on an extremely sour lemon.

Christian: Look at this mask, go ahead, LOOK AT IT!

The camera zooms in on the three green slashes that cut through the black backdrop of the mask.

Savior: This mask has long been a source of infamy. It was worn by a man who has done everything and anything to make sure that others couldn’t succeed. So it was only fitting that it would adorn MY face, and the faces of others when we attacked the very man who wore it and cost him EVERYTHING he holds so dear.

The Cartel Title is adjusted over Savior’s shoulder, smiling beneath his mask, amused by his dastardly actions.

Christian: Confused? Are you scratching your heads? Am I using words too complicated? Should I speak in clicks and whistles? It still isn’t getting through your thick skulls is it? Well maybe someone else can force you to understand, someone who spent so many months playing you people, actually pretending to care what you thought. Or how about I turn the floor over to a woman who has spent her whole life trying to make it to the top only to be held down by people like Johnny Kingdom based on sexism? Someone who is resented by you people simply because she developed a spine, and a personality to boot. So why don’t you people welcome the greatest female wrestler of our, or ANY era, Robin Brooks. And without further ado, put your hands together for the King of Yuks, PORNO LAD!

The mood has all but been dragged into the street, beaten and left hanging from a telephone pole. Porno Lad’s own rendition of his theme song hits the PA system and the writer and singer of said tune slowly emerges from the back. Porno Lad and Robin Brooks step out side by side, revealing that their faces are also hidden beneath Xavier masks. The two proceed towards the ring, a mysterious black bag tucked under PL’s armpit, with Katie Steward pompously strutting to the stage behind them. Even her beautiful face is trapped under a black mask.

It doesn’t take long for the entire army to come sauntering out. Whether it’s BFG, Autumn Daniels, Paris Dannon, Katelyn Parkwood, Kitty Buehler, Rose Savior, Miho Miyazaki or Billy Mayne, every person on the way down the ramp is wearing an Xavier mask. The symbolism isn’t wasted on the fans, although it does leave them a bit perplexed.

Porno Lad starts up the steps and slips through the ropes into the ring, where he is immediately handed the microphone by Savior. Christian then takes the delicate Robin by her hand and kisses the back of it upon leading her through the ropes into the ring. He continues his act of chivalry by parting the cables so that Katelyn and Katie can slip through. Porno Lad jockeys his way to the center of the ring, balancing the mic in one hand and the mysterious black sack in the other.

Porno Lad: What my colleague was trying to say…..

The fans drown out Porno Lad’s words with boos. He’s suddenly gone from the hottest star in the company to the most reviled man in the industry. This is cause not for agitation, but amusement on Porno Lad’s part.

Porno Lad: Ohhh you know you people still love me…..

The boos get even louder.

Porno Lad: Why would you suddenly be haters? What did I do that was so unspeakable? So inhuman? I mean, sure I have done some unspeakable things to A LOT of women, but not the type of stuff you get bashed for. Actually it’s the type of stuff you have to use a credit card to watch on-line.

More boos, more dejection.

Porno lad: But my libido and staggering cup size aside, let’s get back to the point shall we, as I’ve told so many women in the past.

He directs attention to the point of his…..is it even necessary to finish this sentence?

Porno Lad: My new bromosexual Christian was hinting at the fact that there is NO Mr. X. Never was. Over the past few months each of us has graced THIS mask….

Now attention is directed from far south of the belt to far north, thumb gesturing to mask.

Porno Lad: The reason that Orlando H…..I mean Cruze, and Johnny Hogan….oh, my bad, Kingdom, couldn’t find Mr. X, was because there was never one man wearing the mask and stalking the so called elite stars of this company. We played hot potato with this mask for weeks. And although we were not involved in the first backstage attack on Kingdom before Paranoia, each and everyone of us have left him laying since. Why did we do this, besides the fact that it’s fun? Well, because we’re just pretty sick of guys like Johnny Kingdom.

Porno Lad shrugs his shoulders, reducing their motivations to the most simplistic terms.

Porno Lad: There’s really not much more to it than that. He’s the perfect representation of everything we hate about this company, everything that needs to be changed, thus he’s our catalyst for that change. We’re sick of his stagnant routine, and his endless World Title reigns. He, and people like him, have made this company as stale as month old bread, and as smelly to boot. It’s time for the geezers to get the hell out of our way already. Nobody wants to see the same old people doing the same old shit over and over again, in order to maintain their attention spans you fans need change, whether it be via fresh faces, fresh main events, or fresh title reigns. Things need to be spiced up, and unfortunately change was never going to come until ancient ole’ Kingdom stopped boring everyone to tears. I’m sorry, but he’s simply not talented enough to deserve the forty minutes of airtime he gets a week, where he repeats the same basic nauseating comments time and time again at a tone that would even make Ben Stein drowsy.

Such an insinuation strikes the crowd as absolutely ludicrous.

Porno Lad: Now, now people, don’t get a dick up your cooter cause we’re out here speaking ill of your precious Team Leader. What we’re doing is actually for the greater good, and in the long run you’ll understand that. You see, this company deserves to have the absolute best representing it. It deserves to have people who can still pull five star matches out of their asses, people who ooze charisma, people who aren’t booooooring, holding that World Heavyweight Title. And as long as Johnny is around, you people are never going to get that. For some reason some moron ages ago, I’m looking at you, Mark Comeau…..

Once again Mark is provoked into a shake of his head.

Porno Lad:….decided that Kingdom was marketable. Ever since that day he’s been sitting complacently at the top of the mountain, main eventing every Riot! and every pay-per-view. Frankly his routine has gotten old, it’s gotten repetitive, and it’s put us to sleep. It’s time he, and all those like him, stepped aside and stopped stinking up the place, it’s time he stopped killing ratings and buyrates, it’s time that people who actually have talent, who actually have “IT” moved to the top of the card. The only way to make sure that happened was to crush Kingdom physically, mentally and spiritually. Once he was sufficiently demoralized the Team Leader would go back into retirement, the rest of the golden oldies in the lockeroom would learn their place, the ratings would go up, people would actually spend their food stamps and social security checks on the pay-per-views, and things would finally start to get interesting around here again.

His words are barely audible over the thunderclap of boos. Everyone in the stands may disagree but all those gathered in the ring give an approving nod to Porno Lad’s statements.

Porno Lad: Sure, at any time I could have simply beaten him for the World Heavyweight Title, but what would that have done? We all know Johnny would just go to the head office and bitch and moan until he got rematch after rematch after rematch, killing your excitement with redundancy until you finally just turned the channel to SCW or MCW, or whatever wrestling show they air on the Oxygen Network. There would be more Porno Lad versus Johnny Kingdom main events than Austin versus Undertaker, or Hogan versus Flair matches. You would just get SICK of the overexposure.

The thought causes Robin to almost upchuck.

Porno Lad: Plus Kingdom would ensure that he’d get the title back by having his goons attack me over and over and over and over again until I had nothing left to defend the belt. That’s why I didn’t challenge him for the championship, and why Christian Savior has yet to use his guaranteed World Title shot, and why Robin never really applied herself to winning the gold. We all know that Kingdom would pull some type of shenanigans to win the belt, which is why we had to make sure he was humiliated in every aspect. That he was so humiliated he’d have to retire from the ring. Robin here, she was tasked with breaking Kingdom down physically….

Brooks presumably blushes beneath her mask.

Porno Lad: Christian was tasked with breaking him down mentally, by making his title reign miserable.

Now its Christian who should be blushing.

Porno Lad: And I, well I was in charge of demoralizing him SPIRITUALLY. I went out of my way to endear myself to Kingdom, to make him think I was actually a fan of his, a kindred spirit. I wanted him to believe that there was a shinning light at the end of the tunnel, that should he retire there would be someone that he could trust to uphold his values, to uphold his methods, to uphold his legacy. But I SPAT on his values, I SPAT on his methods, and I SPAT on his legacy. I crushed any hope he had left that he was leaving the company in the hands of someone who actually respected him, someone who was going to be the next Johnny Kingdom. But now that his career is at an end, that’s right people, Kingdom isn’t here tonight….

The fans are absolutely heart broken, some searching for their ticket stubs.

Porno Lad:…he’s flew the coop, he’s gone, he’s left the building! Anyway, now that he’s been taken out behind the barn and had a double barrel shotgun blow his brains out, he’ll have to sit at home in his snuggy, crying over a half eaten pint of Hog’n dos knowing that the company is no longer based around feeding his ego. We accomplished what we set out to do, erasing Johnny’s name from the record books and ensuring a new champion was crowned. Oh, do I have your interest now?

The crowd is intrigued by what Porno Lad is getting at.

Porno Lad: That’s right people, it was US. The Five Star Society that decided Simon Cagero should be the World Heavyweight Champion. And why did WE bestow such an honor upon him? Because we wanted to show that change had finally come to the IWC, that the upper echelon, namely us, weren’t about putting a glass ceiling over the roster, we’re about shattering that ceiling.

Instead of being selfish like Orlando Cruze and Johnny Kingdom by winning the title for ourselves, we wanted to be charitable, we wanted to create a new star. Instead of holding back others to feed our ego, we wanted to make Simon Cagero into a house hold name. And we’ve succeeded. That’s why we faked the attack upon me at Upping the Ante, why I walked out on the main event at the Overbooked Extravaganza, and why Christian has assisted Cagero to victory at both of those pay-per-views. It’s why Christian purposely lost the X-Class Title to Simon several months ago, and then took it away from him at our last pay-per-view, so that he’d get that initial boost by winning gold then become more motivated than ever by losing it. We wanted to show we were about giving, rather than taking.

We wanted to give the people a new World Heavyweight Champion and in the process demonstrate the principle that this group is founded upon. And soon, now that the Five Star Society is calling the shots and changing the course of IWC history, the memories of Johnny Kingdom’s egotism and selfishness will be erased from the minds of each and every fan watching this show. Oh, and you WILL be watching, you’ll be unable to turn away as a new standard of excellence dawns your television screens and puts on a can’t miss Riot! every other Saturday night. For once Riot! is going to be AWES…..

YOU BETTA GO AWAY

The fans come out of their seats, their arms thrown high above their heads as they positively dance in the stands. Although they may not particularly care for AWOL’s methods they embrace anyone willing to take a stand against the army in the ring. If there’s one man who knows about warfare it’s the individual now stepping to the stage. AWOL stops just a few inches from the edge of the ramp and grips a microphone in his hand. Sulking behind his back is his Empire teammate Hurse, who is equally as ready to avenge what happened to Kingdom last week.

AWOL: I couldn’t allow you to finish that sentence in good conscious.

The crowd yet again applauds the stoic AWOL while Porno Lad’s grip on the black sack tightens.

AWOL: In fact, I just couldn’t bear listening to another word. My brain simply couldn’t handle all that hypocrisy, all the lies, and all the gaps in your logic.

Robin: Is that so?

Brooks now has the mic and is representing her colleagues.

Brooks: Don’t tell me that you’ve come out here like Johnny’s loyal little lap dog, who occasionally brings him his slippers and lets him rub your tummy, in order to defend your master. You know we’re just as sick of him as you are. We all saw what you did to him last week.

AWOL’s eyes widen and a crooked grin forms on his face.

AWOL: What I did to him? I don’t seem to remember being cognizant of the fact that he was hit with a Singapore Cane when I pinned him. So don’t turn this around on me, don’t deflect your deluded opinions unto the Big Crazy Bastard. I may not like him, but his checks clear the bank and that tells me he’s a somewhat honest man. He doesn’t write checks that he can’t cash, unlike each and everyone of you.

Robin: Oh really Mr. Monotone? You see this people, AWOL is just the type of nuisance that has been perpetuating the belief that Kingdom is an A lister. It’s people like him who are responsible for all the hype surrounding Kingdom.

AWOL: I’m not a smark for Johnny, but I have faced him in the ring. Any man who has physically punished me the way that Kingdom has is far more talented than you’re willing to give him credit for. The only reason you’re so eager to get rid of him, and men like me, is because you know that you can’t beat us. And that you cannot vanquish the Empire. So I’ve come out here simply because I wanted to call you out on your fear of Kingdom, and your many inadequacies, take it for what it is. BYE.

Robin: Whoa, whoa, whoa, AWOL….

The Black Widow steps to the ropes and leans her forearm against the top cable. She has now removed her mask to reveal her smirking face.

Brooks: Are problem isn’t just with Johnny Kingdom, it’s with all the people who have lingered around here for far too long. Lingerers just like you.

An accusative finger is directed to AWOL’s face.

Robin: And just like your little cabana boy.

The finger shifts to Hurse, who immediately defends himself by implying that he isn’t even wearing a hoop skirt.

Brooks: We’re tired of all you people who have been around for ages contributing nothing but stealing valuable airtime away from more talented people. Talented people just like me, just like Christian, just like the Brat Pack, and just like Porno Lad. People who can actually help this company. Why should you guys get the main events, and the titles? Why should you get even a second of face time in front of the camera? Sure you’ve accomplished a lot in the past, but look at yourselves now. Your obsolete and your overshadowed by wrestlers like us.

AWOL: Have you ever heard of the concept of “earning” something, Robin?

The thought makes Brooks pout.

AWOL: I don’t know this may be just a crazy thought here, but maybe if you had accomplished something of merit in the six years you’ve been here you would get more exposure than you do.

The pouting turns to rage.

AWOL: And the same goes for the rest of you. If you want to know why we’re featured so prominently, why the ball is put in our hands, it’s because we’ve never dropped it, and we’ve actually done something noteworthy with our careers.

Robin: Exxxxxxxaaactly! People like you and Kingdom and Hurse get the spotlight not because of what you’ve accomplished today, but what you accomplished yesterday. You rest on your laurels, your lazy, your arrogant, you’re repetitious, and your act is old. Face it, your outclassed, your outmatched and your outshined by everyone in this ring. You’re just not relevant anymore.

AWOL strokes his jaw and nods his head, listening to every point, giving the entire speech thorough thought.

AWOL: You make a point, Robin.

Brooks is stunned, mouthing the words “I did?”

AWOL: Maybe I haven’t done enough to make myself relevant and to prove to the likes of you that I’m not obsolete. BUT….there’s a simple way to fix that.

The mic slips out of his hand and the deranged goliath comes bolting towards the ring. Hurse is actually panicked as he watches his partner proceed down the ramp, realizing that he has to follow him straight into the gates of hell. He nips at AWOL’s feet as the Big Crazy Bastard reaches the ring and slides in under the ropes. The massive army gathered in the ring is momentarily startled by AWOL’s willingness to face off against insurmountable odds. Nevertheless they snap out of it, Porno Lad immediately rushing at AWOL only to receive a cheek cracking open palm strike.

Autumn rushes in at his side, throwing a fist but having it blocked then being taken down with a straight jab. Hurse slips into the ring as well but is nowhere near as fortunate as his teammate. A well timed boot from Robin keeps him down on his knees. She then begins delivering forearm after forearm over his upper back. Finally Hurse reaches out and catches the creases of her knees, ripping her legs out from under her. He crawls on top and begins rifling off blows to her lovely face.

The fans are going ape-shit over this attack, surprised to see two thirds of the Empire holding its own. This advantage doesn’t last long, the numbers against them proving too insurmountable. The Buehler sisters pounce on Hurse, pulling him off of the Black Widow and tossing him to the canvas. They then begin delivering boots to his chest to ensure he doesn’t get up.

AWOL suffers the misfortune of a Christian clothesline to the back of the head. He goes staggering into one of the turnbuckles, falling against it spine first. He looks a bit shaken by the blow, leaving him exposed just long enough for BFG to charge across the ring and engulf him in the folds of his fat. The big splash leaves AWOL even more cockeyed than before.

BFG quickly ensnares one of AWOL’s arms while Katie Steward grabs the other. The duo pulls the Big Crazy Bastard out of the corner and positions him for Porno Lad. The Prankster stomps a foot several times to the canvas, the crowd realizing he is on the verge of delivering the Epic Fail. The fans find themselves sickened as his boot prepares to nail the wide jaw of the Big Crazy Bastard.

Suddenly Jon Rich and Jackson Adams spring into action. The two men rush down the ramp and catch their enemies off guard.

An orgasmic reaction is heard once the pear slip into the ring and start swinging. Miho is taken down with a big right from her former friend Jackson, the Submission Champion turning quickly to save Hurse from the Buehler’s. He grabs Katelyn by the back of the head and tosses her through the ropes to the outside.

Jon on the other hand comes charging at Christian, hitting him with a shoulder block that sends the Rising Phoenix descending to the canvas. Rich then springs into the air just in time to catch an inbound Paris with a step up enzugari to the back of the head.

The sudden change in momentum seems to inspire AWOL who uses his strength to push Katie aside and then swing his freed fist into the forehead of BFG. The big man is taken down to the canvas with one shot.

Jackson now dives over the top rope and comes crashing down right on top of Katelyn with a crossbody. The two hit the mats and roll across them to a loud pop.

After leveling BFG, AWOL turns in the nick of time to crack Kitty under the jaw with a forearm strike. She’s toppled to the canvas and the Big Crazy Bastard now sets his sights on Porno Lad. He spins around to get his hands on the Original Prankster only to be taken down thanks to the Epic Fail.

The fans feel their hearts drop into their shoes as they watch AWOL drop to the canvas. He grabs at his jaw, shocked more than hurt by the lethal spinning superkick. Immediately after delivering his move Porno Lad tries to reach into the mystery sack and remove whatever is held within. That’s before he scrambles from the ring and for good reason, Hurse is right behind him.

The Master of Control grabs at the coat of the Prankster as he rolls under the ropes and rushes past the commentary table. Fox and Mark watch with smiles as Porno Lead leaps over the barricade beside them and takes off into the crowd, shoving fans aside to create a path. Hurse is right behind him, keeping up as best he can.

Rich’s target remains Christian, who is hit with punch after punch to the face as both men battle up the ramp towards the backstage area. Savior attempts to defend himself with a shot only to have it blocked and be nailed to the temple with a damaging blow. Finally the Cartel Champion stumbles through the curtains into the backstage area, Jon following right along behind him, still furiously throwing jabs.

Christian isn’t the only one reeling because Jackson now has both Buehler sisters reeling. He turns from Katelyn to Kitty, alternating punches between their faces. Their battle has spilt off to the side of the stage, the three making their way around the ramp towards the backstage area.

As the riot continues to escalate around the ring inside of it AWOL is beginning to recover. Unfortunately for him, so are his opponents. Katie, BFG, Autumn, Miho and Paris are all up and are all prompt to begin raining down stomps and forearms to the semi conscious body of the Big Crazy Bastard.

They relish with each shot delivered to the barbarian. None of them notice that Robin has failed to join in on the fun. She is in the process of being led to the backstage area with the aid of Billy Mayne, the two making their way up the ramp with Brooks using the former commentator as a crutch. She grips at her stomach in pain as they proceed towards the curtains.

AWOL is still being victimized by this gang mugging until the tide turns. The cavalry comes charging in through the crowd, lead by Psycho. The Sadistic One slides into the ring with Riggs only seconds behind. The moment that Psycho has slipped into the ring BFG pounces on him only to run into a vicious lariat that takes the giant down. Steward spots this alteration in momentum, prompting her to ditch the ring and do so in a hurry. She wisely backs up the ramp and merely watches as Riggs takes Paris by the shoulder, spins her around then delivers a stiff European Uppercut to her jaw.

The strike takes her down to the canvas and sends her rolling under the ropes to the outside. Riggs follows her and Psycho chases the fleeing BFG. Once again AWOL is left on his own to fend off the onslaught of Miyazaki and Daniels. The two remain consistent in their delivery of forearms and periodic kicks. That is until they are foolish enough to lead AWOL up to his feet and attempt to double whip him off into the ropes.

Almost immediately after being Irish whipped AWOL turns and crosses his arms. He then uses his incredible strength to pull both women forearm into a stereo lariat, taking them both down to the canvas.

The fans are absolutely rabid at this point as AWOL steps to the center of the ring brooding. Autumn gets back to her feet and tries to get back on the advantage only to run into an absolutely sickening thrust kick. Her jaw is almost shattered as her body tumbles to the canvas then instinctively rolls out of the ring. The force of the kick sends AWOL into a slow rotation, spinning just as Miho comes rushing in. She gets caught against the ribs though then tossed up into the air where she’s caught on AWOL’s shoulders and powerbombed violently to the ring.

AWOL remains standing as Miyazaki’s body implodes against the canvas before him. She now goes into convulsions, writhing before eventually spilling to the outside.

Arcane: So yeah, she totally covered my chest in hot butte….oh wait, are we back?

Mark: I think we are Fox. Orlando must have restored our headsets backstage, and he picked a hell of a good time to do it. AWOL towering in the ring above the dismantled body of Miho Miyazaki. It took almost half of the IWC roster to clear the ring but I think that this new group has been put in its place already.

Fox: Excellent, the people now have cause to celebrate.

Comeau: Indeed, because the roster is taking a stand….

Arcane: No, because they get to hear my voice again.

Mark: Yes, I’m sure that’s what everyone is thankful for right now. If I were the fans I’d be wondering why Riggs and Psycho yet again came out here to assist AWOL, despite the fact that he wants nothing to do with them. Although if it hadn’t been for the two of them, who knows what would have happened to the Big Crazy Bastard.

AWOL continues to linger in the ring, sneering down at the body of a still squirming Miho. She finally begins to roll out of the ring on instinct but attention is no longer paid to her suffrage, instead all eyes switch to the stage where a wobbly Too Magnificent comes into view.

Mark: Things have just gotten even more compelling.

Arcane: I don’t see how.

Comeau: Too Magnificent is on his way out here.

The World Title belt gleams over Simon’s shoulder as he stands off to the side of his partner, trying to block his way to the ring. Cagero is begging Too Magnificent not to go to the ring, pleading with him in fact but the monster is far too obsessed with getting his hands on AWOL. While the N.H.B Title hangs from one of the golden goliath’s palms, the other grips the striped shirt of referee Fitzpatrick tightly, dragging him along behind as well as using him as a crutch.

Comeau: Wait, hold on a second. Don’t tell me that Too Magnificent is actually coming out here to get his match against AWOL started right now.

Arcane: Why would I tell you that? I literally have no interest whatsoever in Too Magnificent’s actions.

Mark: Too Magnificent has suffered a severe loss of blood. This match shouldn’t even be happening tonight and yet here he comes to defend his title against AWOL.

Too Mag almost looses his footing, blood still dripping from beneath a crude dressing wrapped about his head. He refuses to succumb to his body’s desire to faint or Simon’s pleas, he just keeps shambling towards his opponent and forcing Fitzpatrick along for the ride.

TOO MAGNIFICENT © VS. AWOL

Comeau: And we are underway ladies and gentlemen, despite Simon’s best efforts to reason with Too Magnificent he DEMANDED and he shall RECEIVE this one on one match with AWOL for the title.

Arcane: I guess what little brain-cells he had left are gushing down his face right now. In the little time I’ve been here I’ve already seen Too Magnificent bleed more than an entire team of cheerleaders.

Simon continues to beg his partner not to go through with this but the Motherfucker’s need for retribution is unswayable. He continues to tug the referee along behind him as he climbs up to the apron and glares through the ropes into the face of a kneeling AWOL. The Big Crazy Bastard eyes the N.H.B Champion, a dense cloud of tension existing between them.

Fox: I’m just going to take a wild guess and say this match will be bowling shoe ugly. You know, ugly, what everyone else is in comparison to me.

Finally Too Magnificent yanks with enough force on the ref’s jersey to force him to the apron and into the ring. Fitzpatrick rolls into the squared circle and doesn’t even have to ask AWOL if he’s ready to compete. The Big Crazy Bastard’s expression says it all. The ref quickly motions for the bell and the match is underway. Almost immediately AWOL ricochets off of the far cables to build momentum, rushing the full length of the ring before delivering a face wash. His foot flies through the ropes and cracks the bandaged head of Too Magnificent, knocking him from the apron to the mats.

Too Magnificent falls to his back and blinks his eyes awkwardly, already suffering head trauma from the assault pre-match and the subsequent blood loss. Simon steps back, running his hand down his face as he realizes he’s helpless to assist his partner now.

Mark: The World Champion Simon Cagero can do nothing more than watch as Too Magnificent goes to war with AWOL over that No Holds Barred Title.

Arcane: Hardcore wrestling….what an abomination. Can’t people learn how to do an actual wrestling move that doesn’t involve swinging a steel chair?

Comeau: These guys are both very talented wrestlers actually….

Fox: Are you basing this on your ideal of “talented” or my ideal of “talented?”

Too Magnificent twists from side to side on the mats, the whites of his eyes the only area of his face visible beneath a mask of blood. He rolls towards the ring, his hand finagling its way under the tarp. All the while AWOL is patiently waiting in the center of the ring, crouched in anticipation. The fans know what awaits Too Magnificent, as does Simon, but sadly the N.H.B Champion is unaware of his pending execution.

He valiantly struggles to his feet but it may be a lost cause as AWOL ricochets once again from the far ropes and builds a head of steam. He barrels across the ring and dives through the ropes into the suicide head bunt. His skull connects, with a steel serving tray.

Mark: YOUCH!

Too Magnificent had the gumption to grab a weapon from under the ring and swing it into the inbound skull of his airborne opponent. AWOL topples to the mats, looking as brain damaged as his opponent.

Mark: That move just perfectly countered by Too Magnificent. You won’t see him hold back any, he WANTS to injure AWOL. He still thinks there’s something more to this story between the Big Crazy Bastard and Too Mag’s rivals Psycho and Riggs.

Simon is cheering his partner, putting both palms together in a clap to celebrate this moment. AWOL doesn’t stay down for long, he’s already rolling to his side, trying to get up. Too Magnificent keeps him at bay by swinging the serving tray into his upper back, the sound of the steel hitting spine echoing throughout the Manhattan Center. AWOL grinds his teeth and grunts through the pain, but this isn’t half of what’s in store for the Big Crazy Bastard.

Too Magnificent takes him around the neck and drags him up to his feet before leading him towards the corner of two intersecting barricades. A steel chair is coincidentally positioned in this very location and now serves as a seat for the shaken AWOL.

Mark: Hold on, you don’t think…..

Fox: I’m always thinking, which is why I’m already better than 95% of this roster.

Mark: Too Magnificent wouldn’t, he can’t possibly be thinking of doing what I think he’s about to, not in his state.

A few jabs are thrown into AWOL’s forehead, ensuring he remains seated in the chair, propped side first against the barrier. Too Magnificent then turns away and begins to create some distance before yelling out to the crowd.

Too Magnificent: OLE!

Some of the fans actually start up an Ole chant as Too Magnificent makes his intentions clear, he intends to steal AWOL’s face wash into the barricade. He turns towards the seated monster and then stomps his foot to the mats, building some anticipation. Surprisingly he comes charging towards AWOL at a good speed all things considered.

In fact he takes off with the speed of an iron ball shot out of a cannon. Unfortunately for him it still wasn’t fast enough to stop AWOL from getting up and throwing the chair with the force of a bullet directly into his face. The steel cracks off of Too Magnificent’s bloodied skull and causes him to stagger around lifelessly.

Mark: Ohhh, tit for tat, that’s the type of match this is proving to be already.

Somehow Too Magnificent is still upright, albeit stumbling as more blood begins to ooze down his face. AWOL quickly takes him by the back of the head and pitches him throat first into the top of the barrier. He bounces off of the steel and then falls against it, utilizing the barricade to hold himself up. He has no idea that AWOL is snatching up the chair yet again and placing it right back in the corner of the barriers.

A searing knife edge chop almost caves in Too Magnificent’s chest and leaves him defenseless against the challenger’s tactics. AWOL throws the champion down to his seat and then steps across the mats. Once again the fans are chiming in with an Ole chant, knowing that it’s Too Magnificent who is going to suffer the punishment of the face wash.

Comeau: I think hitting this move would put the nail in Too Magnificent’s coffin.

Arcane: Thank God, it’s about time they buried him, his stench was really overpowering.

AWOL turns and targets his prey before getting a running start to deliver the brutal, brain squishing big boot. Before he can finish off his opponent Simon jumps into AWOL’s path, creating a human barricade.

Mark: Simon trying to save his partner.

Arcane: Then he should probably sign him up for a lobotomy.

The World Champion tries to explain his position before AWOL throws him aside. Cagero goes spinning into the apron, resting against it and attempting to control his anger. He just watches as the Big Crazy Bastard storms towards Too Magnificent and then has his shin dropkicked out from under him.

Much like at the Overbooked Extravaganza, AWOL finds himself tumbling chin and throat first into the top edge of the barricade, bouncing off of it forcefully.

Mark: Too Magnificent forces AWOL to taste steel yet again.

Fox: Then he should force him to kiss my ass, because you know I’ve got buns of steel back there, Mark. I saw you looking, no shame in it.

Mark: I have not been checking out your ass, Fox.

Fox: Mark, Mark, Mark there’s no need to be defenseless. I know that my backside is pretty dark irresistible.

Now that he’s got this brief window of opportunity Too Magnificent seizes advantage, he steps in and clobbers AWOL across the jaw with a right hand. The blow almost takes down the champion as well, causing him to fall side first into the barrier. AWOL has landed on his posterior, back propped against the barricade, eyes listless from the five knuckles cracking his skull.

Too Magnificent staggers away but quickly spins and comes barreling in with a knee strike. The point of his knee connects straight against AWOL’s skull, sandwiching his brain between bone and steel.

Comeau: Nasty running knee strike from the Champion.

The crowd is almost as shocked as Simon, who watches on in disbelief as his partner far exceeds his expectations. The golden goliath stumbles in and takes the skull of the Big Crazy Bastard into his hands, leading him up to his feet then depositing him in the ring.

AWOL rolls to his elbows and knees, shaking off the effects of the numerous blows he’s taken to the skull thus far.

The bloodied yet motivated Champion follows him in but not before taking a trashcan into hand. He retrieved the weapon from the very place he found the serving tray stored, from beneath the ring. Upon rolling into the squared circle Too Magnificent finds the sight of his blood to be a key motivating factor. He swipes crimson from his forehead and then stares into his red palm, the mere glimpse of his flowing claret enough to send him into a Hulk like rage.

He lifts the trashcan above his head and brings it down forcefully across the upper back of the Big Crazy Challenger. He collapses to his stomach but immediately pushes himself back to all fours only for Too Magnificent to swing again. AWOL falls to his stomach followed by a prompt raising to his elbows and knees. Too Magnificent is just as prompt to dish out a third trashcan shot.

Mark: Too Magnificent keeps swinging but AWOL refuses to stay down.

Arcane: I take it years of brain damage has left AWOL incapable of feeling pain and incapable of solving basic mathematical equations.

The blows may have the challenger shaken but they will not keep him down. Now it’s AWOL’s rage that compels him to roll out of his opponent’s range and reach his feet. He comes charging at Too Magnificent and throws punch after punch, a quick succession of rights and lefts to his cheeks.

Too Magnificent is staggered by each quick, vicious shot before he plants his feet and swings the trashcan with both hands straight over the chrome dome of his rival. The can dents around AWOL’s skull and leaves the Big Crazy Bastard barely conscious and barely on both feet. His legs nearly cut out beneath him as Too Magnificent roars through his mask of blood, lifting the trashcan high above his head on the verge of swinging it down into his adversary’s skull.

AWOL surprises Too Magnificent with a straight slap to the cheek. His palm connects with enough force to crack every bone in the champion’s face. In fact it hits with greater force than the many trashcans to AWOL’s cranium, and leaves his opponent equally as devastated. Too Mag staggers and stumbles as if he just sniffed a bottle of Elmer’s glue.

Somehow he is still standing though as AWOL slaps his knee and points to the outside of the ring at the World Heavyweight Champion. Cagero sneers at any insinuation that AWOL may be making as the Empire member builds momentum by charging into the far ropes.

He ricochets off and comes back at Too Magnificent, launching his leg into the air and attempting to drive his knee and shin into the lacerated skull of the champion. His leg sweeps right over Too Magnificent’s head, who ducked just in time to avoid the blow.

The momentum of AWOL’s swinging leg sends him twisting in a full circle, turning just in time to be cracked over the skull with the garbage can once more.

Comeau: I’ve never seen someone tolerate as many blows to the head as AWOL has here this evening.

Fox: I’ve seen plenty of women take a lot more blows in the backseat of my Hummer.

The crowd finds itself absolutely amazed by the fact that AWOL is upright after one of the nastiest shots to the skull they’ve ever heard. It’s almost as if AWOL fails to grasp the concept of pain. A man who has just as much trouble with that concept is his opponent who pushes all his physical agony aside to once again swing the can into the top of the Big Crazy Bastard’s head.

He cocks back with his weapon of choice and fires once more, then again, and again, and again until AWOL has lost all ability to stand. As AWOL goes off of his feet the crowd comes to there’s.

Mark: Too Magnificent going absolutely insane with those trashcan shots. He’s trying to put a permanent end to the Big Crazy Bastard.

The moment AWOL looses his footing he finds himself fortunate to go off his feet right next to a turnbuckle. He falls against it, wrapping his arms around the top rope to keep his barely conscious body upright. Too Magnificent throws down the badly warped trashcan in front of the warped body of his opponent. He then gets a running start, charging in and throwing a lariat that connects directly to AWOL’s throat.

Somehow, even with all his body weight thrown behind the bicep AWOL keeps his footing, mostly thanks to the aid of the turnbuckle.

A disgruntled and bleeding Too Magnificent backs away from the man who’s career he is on the verge of ending. The moment he reaches the center of the ring Too Magnificent explodes, getting his second wind which carries him right into a leaping lariat.

Just as his feet reach the air and his arm travels towards the challenger’s throat, AWOL reaches out catches Too Mag across the chest and drills him with a standing uranage. The spine of the Golden Goliath slams forcefully into the mangled trashcan.

Mark: OHHHH good heavens.

Too Magnificent bows his back from the canvas and the very weapon that came back to haunt him. On instinct he rolls away from his violent oppressor, trying to create some room for comfort. AWOL closes the gap in a very unorthodox fashion. Instead of simply employing his ground and pound tactics, AWOL slips through the ropes to the apron and begins to climb the turnbuckle.

Fox: How much weight can those turnbuckles hold? I’m only asking because I want to make sure that it can contain the weight of just one of my biceps.

Mark: I think AWOL is putting that question to the test now.

The crowd watches through wide eyes as AWOL reaches the very top rope, finding himself on unsure footing. Now the fans aren’t just watching their gasping at the sight of AWOL soaring across the ring and delivering a gigantic Awesome splash on the prone body of Too Magnificent.

Comeau: Your SHITTING me!

The fans are jumping around ecstatically behind the barricades, absolutely amazed at the sight of someone AWOL’s size effortlessly gliding through the air. All of the oxygen has been knocked out of an already traumatized Too Magnificent’s body, a body that finds itself defenseless against the pin.

Mark: A new champ about to be crowned after an absolutely beautiful giant splash off the top rope.

As the hand of Fitzpatrick slaps the canvas the fans count along. Simon on the other hand, just watches with mouth agape over what he’s just witnessed.

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2

NO!

The Champion just barely kicks out in time to retain his title.

Mark: For Too Magnificent to have kicked out of that hold, well, it’s just amazing.

Arcane: Why? Because Psycho tickled him before the match with a spike?

Mark: He did far more than just “tickled” him, Fox.

AWOL sits up on the canvas and grimaces with every movement, the physicality of this match beginning to catch up with him. He rubs at a welt forming on the top of his head for a few moments and then begins stumbling to his feet. The mutilated Big Crazy Bastard reaches an upright base then falls forward into the ropes. He slips through them and lands on the outside mats before approaching the guardrail. He slaps his palms together then threatens to back hand a fan until they clear out of the way. It wasn’t the fan he was after though, it was the chair he was seated on.

AWOL grabs the chair and sluggishly begins to approach the ring where Too Magnificent is still convalescing.

Mark: If Too Magnificent thought he was in pain before, just wait until AWOL puts that chair to use.

Fox: Something tells me we’re about to see the first public steel chair enema.

Upon reaching the ring AWOL falls into the apron and leans against it as a perch. He then spots Simon moving in from the corner of his eye. This motivates AWOL to lift the chair and swing it down into the apron, creating a loud echo of steel hitting steel. The gesture is well interpreted by Cagero, who tilts his head and defensively raises his palms. He clears out of AWOL’s range as the Big Crazy Bastard returns his attention to the ring.

Inside Too Magnificent is somehow back on his feet and is charging in. He drops down into a baseball slide, both boots drilling the chair in AWOL’s hands and knocking it back into the big man’s face. AWOL almost looses his footing as he’s launched spine first into the barricade.

Mark: Cagero’s distraction proving effective, giving Too Magnificent just enough time to recover and dropkick that chair.

The dented steel falls out of AWOL’s hands as he leans with one arm placed over the barricade. He huffs and wheezes but quickly collects himself, reaching over the barricade and snatching up yet another chair. He folds it then heads into the ring where Too Magnificent has his back turned. The bloody Champion is doubled over, holding his back after that lethal uranage, but he still sees AWOL moving towards him, chair raised above his head.

Too Mag quickly leaps into the air and delivers a flying shoulder block directly to AWOL’s chest, knocking the chair out of his hands and the challenger down to the canvas.

Comeau: Too Magnificent again too quick for AWOL.

Arcane: Kathy Bates is probably too quick for AWOL.

Immediately after hitting the canvas AWOL rolls across it to the outside of the ring. His nostrils are snarling as he approaches the ring announcer and physically drags Kailey out of her chair by the strap of her dress. Once tossed aside he grabs her seat, folds it and head straight back for the ring.

Mark: AWOL is one stubborn son of a bitch.

AWOL slips into the ring across his stomach, stands up and lifts the chair into the air. He makes a straight line towards Too Magnificent who leaps into the air and connects with a bicycle kick to the chair. The force of the kick knocks the steel backwards, crashing directly into the challenger’s face.

Comeau: AWOL again having his own weapon turned against him…..but look at this!

Although very, very groggy and looking as if he isn’t playing with a full deck of cards, AWOL has rolled to the outside and is tumbling into the barricade. He reaches over the guardrail and grabs, you guessed it, ANOTHER chair.

Fox: Doesn’t he know that half the crowd is hyperglycemic? They can’t be expected to stand for long.

While AWOL is retrieving yet another chair inside of the ring Too Magnificent is calling for an entirely different weapon. A sack full of God only knows what is slid under the ring by Simon and straight into the hands of Too Magnificent.

Mark: We saw this several weeks ago in that mini-rumble, Simon supplying Too Magnificent with weapons, and it also assisted the N.H.B Champion to a victory.

Once the sack is in hand Too Magnificent acts quickly to open it. The crowd pops at the sight of the thousands upon thousands of little tacks that spill out and collect across the canvas.

Mark: Oh no, we’ve got TACKS!

Too Magnificent spreads the little place holders out with his feet, until a puddle of tacks is formed. AWOL is either unaware of the trap Too Magnificent has laid or doesn’t even care. He rolls into the ring with a new chair in hand, lifting it up above his head and preparing to swing for the fences. He steps right over the tacks and right into the open palm of Too Magnificent.

The crowd squeals as TM hoists AWOL up into the air and chokeslams him spine first into hundreds upon hundreds of thumbtacks.

Mark: AHHHH. That’s got to be painful.

AWOL sits up and bows his back from the agony of all the little blades digging into his spine. Every muscle in his face and body is contorted as he now rolls under the ropes to the outside of the ring and approaches the barrier. To everyone’s shock he shrugs off the tacks embedded in his spine and reaches into the crowd, grabbing another chair.

Comeau: WHAT!?! AWOL is acting as if he’s not even effected by this!

Although he is in searing pain the monster operates on sheer adrenaline as he tosses the chair over the ropes and into the ring. A kneeling Too Magnificent watches in shock as the chair flies over his head and collapses into the tacks where his opponent’s body is supposed to be lying. He then sees another chair fly into the ring. AWOL grabs yet another seat and tosses it through the ropes.

Mark: AWOL has absolutely flipped out! He’s throwing every chair into that ring he can get his hands on.

Before long the fans begin helping AWOL out, grabbing their own chairs and tossing them into the ring. Cagero stands back mystified as every fan in attendance tosses their seats into and around the ring.

Comeau: We have a CHAIR RIOT ladies and gentlemen.

Arcane: I’m not giving up my chair.

The screams from the crowd are deafening as every chair in the building finds its way either onto the canvas or onto the mats. Fitzpatrick covers his head and curls in the fetal position in the corner as chairs fall on top of him while Too Magnificent embraces each steel weapon that comes flying towards his head.

He swats some down out of the air and willingly allows others to hit him. Despite all the chairs flung into his body he remains upright and stomps his feet onto the steel now completely blanketing the canvas. He turns just as AWOL slips into the ring with chair in hand and swings it.

Too Mag ducks the inbound chair then steps behind his opponent. AWOL turns just in time to be caught with a goozle, the bleeding champion setting for a chokeslam onto the sea of chairs.

Mark: This could be career ending.

Just as he is about to suffer from a chokeslam into the tacks AND the chairs, AWOL lobs his foot up into Too Magnificent’s ribs and doubles him over. He immediately steps over his opponent’s head and hooks both arms before throwing him up into the air. Too Magnificent flips over, the back of his legs landing on AWOL’s shoulders before being dropped into a tiger bomb onto the chairs!

Comeau: GOOD GOD!

Arcane: Yes?

The chairs rumble and the crowd goes bonkers, their faces watching on pale white over the disturbing display they just saw transpired before their very eyes. AWOL leans forward into the creases of his unconscious opponent’s knees as Fitzpatrick climbs out from beneath the chairs. He holds his ribs and crawls across the steel before slapping it to make the count.

Mark: We have to have a new champion after that.

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2

The fans are left breathless as Too Magnificent’s shoulder shoots from the steel chairs!

Mark: No F’N way.

Fox: Are these guys smoking meth before their matches?

Simon lowers his head and shakes it on the outside of the ring, suffering from a mixture of emotions. While he’s pleased that Too Magnificent didn’t just lose the title, he’s conflicted by the knowledge that his partner is taking years off of his life.

Too Magnificent doesn’t care about tomorrow, evident by the fact that he’s already climbing to his feet. AWOL is trying to do the same, although the pain from the tacks in his back is limiting his upward progression. Both men finally reach their feet when Too Magnificent throws a right only to be caught across the chest and the thigh. AWOL drops back, hitting a T-Bone suplex that puts Too Magnificent spine first into the chairs yet again.

Mark: WHAT!?! NOOO!

Too Magnificent bounces up from the chairs with completely glazed over eyes. The bandage that held together his wound is gone and blood is gushing down his face once again before he falls to his back. The punctured, lacerated AWOL sluggishly scoots through the blanket of chairs into the lateral press.

1

2

Again the crowd has cause to loose its cool as they watch Too Magnificent’s arm launching from the canvas.

Mark: Words cannot even describe what I’m witnessing here. Even after a bludgeoning backstage, Too Magnificent is still out here not only competing but being powerbombed and suplexed onto chairs then STILL kicking out. These two are simply inhuman.

Fox: The smell is enough to tell you that.

Every fan in the audience is on its feet starting an “IWC” chant, simply amazed by the sheer brutality in this N.H.B Championship match. AWOL and Too Magnificent continue to lay amongst the layer of chairs trying to resolve themselves to the fact that this match is still going. The Big Crazy Bastard seems to be having greater trouble accepting this fact than his opponent, who is getting his fifteenth wind at this point.

Too Magnificent rolls to his side and begins reaching his feet, back severely bruised and swelling. He just gets up when AWOL steps in and takes him around the head, forcing it under his seat.

AWOL: PILEDRIVER!

Although not prone to calling his shots like Babe Ruth, AWOL hams it up in the heat of the moment. His choreographing of his next maneuver proves fatal though when Too Magnificent stands up and backdrops AWOL over his head. The Big Crazy Bastard then comes tumbling down from a great height into the chairs once more.

Mark: The chairs taking yet another victim.

Fox: I wonder if the fans get a discount for sacrificing their chairs?

Mark: Is that all your thinking about?

Fox: No, I’m also thinking about my date with that Brazilian supermodel later tonight.

AWOL writhes and convulses on top of the chairs, having no idea that Too Magnificent is on his way up the turnbuckle.

Comeau: Now this is just suicidal, Too Magnificent is taking a page out of AWOL’s book.

He reaches the very top rope and brushes the blood out of his eyes long enough to look down at the man screaming at him. Simon once again is pleading for his partner to show better judgment only for Too Magnificent to nod then take flight. He soars across the ring and delivers the Arrogance is Bliss. His leg drops across AWOL’s throat and his seat is compressed against the chairs.

Mark: Top rope leg drop from Too Magnificent! SICK!

Too Magnificent falls to his side as the crimson leaks from his forehead and dribbles onto the chair. He forces himself from the chairs and to his knees before finally falling over onto Too Magnificent and hooking his leg.

1

2

Although he was all but assured that victory was within his grasp he finds his assumption shattered by AWOL’s kick out.

Comeau: Another kick out in what has been perhaps the most violent N.H.B Title match I can remember seeing in a LONG time.

Fitzpatrick begins clearing some of the chairs out of the ring, knocking them into a mountain of steel at ringside. A huge pile of chairs grows higher and higher as the ref kicks more of them out of the ring.

Too Magnificent holds at his kidneys and thigh as he ascends to his feet, barely able to place any weight on his legs. His whole body is overburdened with pain, shockwaves of anguish coursing through every inch, but he pushes it aside for the sake of retaining his title and ending AWOL’s career. He grabs some steel and places it on top of AWOL’s head, sandwiching his skull as the meat between two chairs.

He now backs up and gets a running start before stomping down with all his force into the chair on top of AWOL’s head.

Mark: My GAWD! These two monsters are doing nothing short of murdering one another tonight for the sake of the N.H.B Championship.

Arcane: This is what happens when you pit two sadomasochists against each other. They should have just thrown Michelle Blacker out here as a referee while they were at it.

Mark: We’ve already seen slams onto trashcans, chokeslams on thumbtacks, and a chair riot, what else are these two going to do to one another?

AWOL rolls to his back as Too Magnificent again drops into the cover, hooking the tree trunk thick legs of his opponent.

1

2

AWOL’s shoulder launches from the canvas, refusing to be put down after everything he’s already been put through for the sake of the championship. He remains stretched across the ring, a location that has been particularly unforgiving here tonight.

His positioning is too much for Too Magnificent to pass up, prompting him to crawl agonizingly towards the turnbuckle. He climbs it slowly, once again setting up for the Arrogance is Bliss.

Mark: I don’t know how smart this is….

Arcane: I’m pretty sure Too Magnificent isn’t a rogue scholar, Mark. Otherwise he’d come up with a far less generic ring name. Although, I guess we all can’t be blessed with naturally charismatic names like myself.

Too Magnificent has ascended to the top rope with blood gushing down his face, spilling off of his chin down to the canvas. He pivots on the highest point of the turnbuckle, spinning to face his down opponent. Or at least Too Magnificent thought he was down. He quickly learns that he was mistaken the moment that his throat is engulfed by the palm of the Big Crazy Bastard.

AWOL groans and employs every bit of strength he has in his body to pull his adversary off of the top rope, turn and chokeslam him THROUGH the ring.

Mark: YOU’VE GOT TO BE…..WOW! RIGHT THROUGH THE RING!

Arcane: They better patch up that hole before I’m expected to wrestle, and sanitize the canvas while they’re at it.

Every fan in attendance is standing, both from shock, and the fact that they surrendered their chairs just moments ago. They continue to chant despite being completely out of breathe.

Fans: HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT! HOLY SHIT!

Mark: Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been treated to one of the most shocking things I’ve ever seen here in the IWC. Too Magnificent put through the canvas, and if he’s not dead, he’s got to be close to it.

AWOL kneels on the canvas, shivering from both the pain of the tacks piercing his back, and the rush of emotion upon ending another man’s career. Simon Cagero has seen enough of this debacle. He leaps to the apron and begins slipping through the ropes, realizing that his partner’s career is far more important than Too Mag’s ego.

Although Too Mag forbid him to get involved, Cagero isn’t about to watch him endure any further hell. Once on the apron Simon throws all trepidation aside and begins to slip through the ropes. That is until his throat is engulfed by a massive palm. His eyes widen, realizing that he’s been caught in the jaws of the beast, AWOL goozling him from the inside of the squared circle.

Comeau: AWOL’s got the champion, OH MMMMYYY!

It doesn’t take long for a shocked Simon to be raised into the air and chokeslammed forcefully spine first into the apron. His body cracks against the steel outer fringes of the ring and then plummets to the mats.

Mark: Now the World Champion consumed by this chaos, chokeslammed unto the apron. AWOL may have just killed two careers here tonight.

AWOL watches with some type of child like delight as Simon writhes across the mats. It doesn’t take long for the shark to detect blood, his eyes tracking Too Magnificent who is now rolling out from under the ring. The panting, bloodied, near deceased Too Magnificent ends up spread across the chairs at ringside, lying right next to the huge pile of steel a few inches away.

In what can be described as insanely brave or insanely stupid, the big man begins to stand. He claws at the tarp hung from the apron, utilizing it to reach his feet where he almost falls over yet again. His face is indistinguishable behind the buckets of blood smeared over it, but the thought of walking away champion trumps blood loss, and severe intracranial pressure.

He has just begun climbing to the apron when AWOL steps through the ropes and takes him by the arm. Too Magnificent has no defense left, the attack backstage and the brutality in the ring leaving all of his energy diminished. AWOL effortlessly tucks Too Mag’s arm between his own thighs and hooks the other, setting up for the Daisy Cutter. His back is turned towards the huge mound of chairs formed at ringside, intent on putting Too Magnificent through them just like he chokeslammed him through the ring.

Mark: No AWOL, don’t, don’t, there may not be a rulebook in this match, but you know that you can still be prosecuted for homicide.

Arcane: Actually, judging from what I’ve heard of him, he doesn’t know.

The fans watch with bated breaths as AWOL begins to lift Too Magnificent into the air, about to surely end this match and end his career when a thousand bolts of electricity go shooting all throughout his body. He drops Too Magnificent just before he could be a big conductor and electrify his opponent through touch.

The source of the voltage seems to be a stun gun in the hand of Porno Lad.

Mark: Ahhh, ahhh, he’s electrocuting AWOL!

Fox: This is the type of capital punishment AWOL should have received ages ago.

Comeau: Where did Porno Lad come from?

Obviously Simon evaded Hurse long enough to come back to the ring and ELECTRIFY AWOL in a far different way that he use to electrify the crowd. He kneels on the canvas, gun in hand and juice feeding into the Big Crazy Bastard’s body for as long as his finger pulls down on the trigger.

Mark: Stop this, stop this Porno Lad! Are you psychotic!?!

Porno Lad finally stops zapping AWOL from the ring, and now rushes up behind him just as quickly as he leaped over the barricade, snuck into the ring, and removed his weapon from the black sack to perform this attack. Somehow AWOL is upright just long enough to be cracked over the back of the gun with the gun, which shatters into pieces upon impact.

Mark: This is just overkill! Where the hell is security? I thought they were getting the 5 Star Society under control backstage.

AWOL’s eyes have rolled to the back of his head and Porno Lad has rolled out of the ring. He steps past Cagero, the World Champion gripping at his kidneys and watching through puzzled eyes as the Prankster backs up the ramp. Porno Lad doesn’t leave until he’s given a wink to Cagero, a wink that could be taken in a thousand different ways.

The wink heard round the world is overshadowed by what’s happening on the apron. Somehow AWOL is still standing yet doubled over, a long sliver of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth. The momentary electrocution has caused him to loose all control of his bodily functions.

He doesn’t regain full use of his powerhouse frame until his throat becomes goozled in the clutches of Too Magnificent. Despite the blood and crippling trauma inflicted on him tonight, Too Magnificent stands and turns to face the exterior of the ring. He throws AWOL’s arm over his shoulder, grabs the back of his tights and lifts him as high as possible before chokeslamming him through the pile of chairs at ringside.

Mark: AHHHH!

Chair legs snap, their backs shatter, and steel crunches as AWOL goes through the pile and ends up stretched across all of the devices that have tortured him so.

Comeau: He was just chokeslammed, he was put, AWOL slammed through the CHAIRS!

Arcane: That was simply…..electrifying.

AWOL isn’t moving a solid inch, body destroyed and brain fried by the charge of the stun gun. Although Too Magnificent is almost in the same condition, he drops to the mats and falls into the cover, exerting all strength to hook the leg in the process.

The referee slips out of the ring and slaps the chairs layered across mats at ringside.

Mark: If this doesn’t do it then there’s no longer any doubt, AWOL isn’t human.

With leg hooked Too Magnificent’s weary body hopes for the best.

1

2

3!

The fans supply a standing ovation for one of the most violent, depraved bouts they’ve ever seen between two of the most sadistic warriors in the history of the IWC.

Mark: Too Magnificent victorious in an awesome, awesome brawl. He retains his title after one of the most hard hitting, disfiguring contests I’ve ever witnessed personally.

Fox: That was pretty sick. And by sick, I mean SICK.

The crumbled chairs remain thick beneath AWOL’s crumbled body. Mucus is spewing from both his lips and his nostrils as he tries to regain some use of his brain. Too Magnificent in the meanwhile is spread across his spine, unresponsive to the official’s raising of his wrist. Although he can take no satisifaction in it, Simon has grabbed the N.H.B Championship and is dropping it across his stomach. Cagero then falls into the apron, needing his own support after the chokeslam he took earlier.

Mark: These two put each other through absolutely everything, and if it hadn’t been for that stun gun and Porno Lad’s interference then they might still be sitting here mangling one another.

Fox: Thank God for Porno Lad then.

The hand of the motionless Magnificent continues to be raised into the air while the referee snaps his fingers in front of the champion’s face. The breathless crowd strain their voices to provide a well deserved “THAT WAS AWESOME” chant.

IN THE ROOM

A groove has been formed into the carpet under Orlando’s feet, the President pacing behind his desk. Clearly he is deep in thought, fingers cupping his chin and eyes deep and sunken. Although he’s quietly meditating Michelle Blacker shows no hesitance in interrupting him.

Michelle: It’s me again, reporting live this time from the office of Orlando Cruze.

The camera pans out just enough to reveal Blacker seated on the corner of the President’s desk and the completely barren white walls that surround her.

Blacker: I’m here to get his take on the BRAWL we just witnessed in the ring and hopefully get some insight into what he intends to do about it…..

Orlando: That really pisses me off.

Michelle is unaware that she had broken any rules, but is pleased by the tone of her employer’s voice.

Michelle: What did I do?

Cruze: I just hate when people talk about you as if you’re not in the room. I’m standing right here, direct your questions to me already.

Michelle: Well, to be honest, Cruze, you didn’t do anything to remind me that you were still here.

The Icon stops pacing, stops talking, and stops breathing.

Orlando: What’s that supposed to mean?

His anger makes her all the happier.

Michelle: Nothing.

Orlando: Mmmhmmmm…

Blacker: Since you already know what I’m going to ask, would you like to comment on how…

Orlando: No.

Blacker is amused by his reluctance.

Michelle: Oh?

Cruze: I think instead of standing back here in my office, bitching, whining and crying about the state of the IWC, I’ll do something to remind people I’m still here, I’m still the boss in this company.

Blacker: Excellent.

Blacker is teeming with excitement for all the wrong reasons.

Michelle: I brought some fishing hooks and a spanking paddle, their in my locker, just give me a second to go….

Orlando: You’ve got me all wrong Michelle.

Disappointment.

Cruze: You’re not the person I need to stand up to. If I’m going to fix the problems in this company, I need to go straight to the man who is responsible for all of them. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go have a chat with Christian Savior.

The Icon navigates around Michelle and his desk before vacating the dressing room. Blacker blows a strand of hair out of her face and watches him storm off to presumably fix the many wrongs that Christian has created.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Don’t mess with Nessy….this has been an IWC public service announcement

BACK SCRATCH FEVER

Sweat rolls down over the many lacerations and bruises formed across AWOL’s body. Fatigue has set in as the adrenaline of his match dilutes. The Big Crazy Bastard leans over a trashcan, pouring his guts into them. It’s clear that he’s yet to fully recover from the electrocution and the chokeslam through the chairs. Vomit drips from his lips as shadows are cast over his back.

Bravo, bravo!

Loud, obnoxious clapping stirs AWOL, bringing him to lift his eyes from his spew to the faces of his former protégés.

Riggs: No, no….don’t stand up. We know those old muscles have to be a bit sore.

The Painted Warrior and the Sadistic Savage stand only a few feet from the Big Crazy Bastard, well within arm’s length. Somehow AWOL resists the temptation to take advantage of their distance.

Psycho: Sorry about your luck big man. Seems to me you could have really used some back up out there.

AWOL would respond if his jaw didn’t feel like it was about to fall off.

Psycho: Buuut we respected your wishes. We stayed out of your business. Although we could have helped you avoid that electrocution and chokeslam, we obeyed your wishes. Just like you wanted, partner. And I think you see how well you did without our help.

AWOL: Hmmm, intriguing.

His response is not one that they had expected.

AWOL: So you call “staying out of my business,” attacking Too Magnificent before the match and then interfering in that war against the 5 Star Society?

Riggs: We could have done more, and then maybe you would have wo…..

AWOL: And better yet you “stay out of my business” by hitting Johnny with a Singapore cane last week?

Both men shrug and nod.

Riggs: You won the match didn’t you?

Psycho: I think the ends far outweigh the means.

AWOL: Yes, yes, I did win, not that the victory is worth a damn.

The harsh statement has both Riggs and Psycho frozen yet ready to defend themselves if necessary.

AWOL: Thanks to the two of you there’s now ambiguity, ambiguity that could have been resolved in that ring two Saturdays ago.

Psycho: What are you talking about? There’s NO ambiguity, you BEAT Kingdom.

AWOL: Not on my terms I didn’t. Now that victory last week will forever be cheapened. The fact that Kingdom and I put on the match of the year will be soured in everyone’s eyes thanks to your interference.

Psycho: So, who cares? Big wins equal bonuses, AWOL, you know this. It’s all about the figures with you nowadays isn’t it? Seeing as you’ve repressed your inner monster in order to be a media darling and sell more useless crap to these mindless fans.

The Tag Team Champion steps straight towards Psycho, who doesn’t budge or back-down.

Psycho: The AWOL I know wouldn’t base his whole career around getting more zeros on his check, and be worried about winning matches by whatever means neccessary.

Riggs: He would be more devoted to feeling the thrill of spilling another’s blood.

Psycho: I know that the true AWOL is still down there deep inside, and I’m not going to stop until he comes out and takes his place alongside us.

Riggs: Which is why we’ll continue to have your back every single week just like on the last Riot! and earlier tonight. Why preach about restraint AWOL, when you know it’s so much more fun to let the animal out of the cage. You may not want our help, but you know you need it.

Once again AWOL lowers his eyes, taking them off his protégés.

AWOL: Ah, so extortion is your tactic now?

Psycho: No, like we’ve been saying, we’re just scratching your back, waiting for it to bleed.

Riggs: We’ve proven our loyalty, lined your pockets, and helped coax the inner demon out of you little by little. If our interferences help you grow richer, and in the process bring you closer to taking the padlock off the cage, then so be it.

The Big Crazy Bastard nods, understanding the pear all too well.

AWOL: Fair enough. I’m not going to stifle your attempts to manipulate me….

Psycho: Is that so?

AWOL: Indeed. As you so eloquently put it, I find myself in a win, win situation here. Well, with the exception of tonight.

Psycho: Which only happened because we TRIED to control ourselves and didn’t come out there again.

AWOL: The only aspect of your plan that doesn’t sit well with me is the fact that your doing all the giving, yet there’s no receiving on your end.

The two social misfits find themselves intrigued.

Psycho: Go on.

AWOL: Well, whether I like it or not, the two of you are partially responsible for my victory against Kingdom. And no matter how short sighted your attempts may be, you have saved my neck on countless occasions over the past few months.

Riggs: Exactly.

AWOL: So, I think it’s my turn to be generous. With Team Overrated running amok around here, and the Necrophiliacs of America out for your blood, it seems to me that you two could use some protection. So how about I put my nails to your back and start scratching?

Intrigue is replaced with excitement.

Psycho: Your going to watch our backs?

AWOL: It’s only fair, isn’t it? It’s the least I can do after you’ve been oh so helpful. Besides, I’ll take any opportunity I can to get my hands on the Breakfast Club.

Riggs: It’s about time you opened your eyes, AWOL.

AWOL: I have you both to thank for that.

Psycho: With the three of us together we can reduce this roster to ashes.

AWOL: I like it. It’s been too long since I took the padlock off and shed the sheep’s wool.

Riggs enjoys hearing his words emanate from the lips of the Big Crazy Bastard.

AWOL: Tonight we start with Porno Lad, Christian and any vagina that crosses our path.

Psycho: Music to my ears.

Without hesitation a palm is extended, AWOL’s arm outstretched and waiting to be embraced. It doesn’t take long for Psycho to slap his palm to the Big Crazy Bastard’s, the crowd remorselessly booing this truly unholy union.

BFG VS. ZERO

The new hit rap single by BFG begins playing over the PA system to a raucous ovation from the crowd. Pure animosity is directed the big man’s way as he steps through the curtains and lingers on the stage. His chin juts out and moves from side to side to physically show his anger upon moving towards the squared circle. The hefty giant climbs to the apron, looking slightly out of breath already. To get his metabolism going he snaps into a Slim Jim, having a ready supply of them in his pants pocket.

Fox: Careful now everyone, don’t get too close to BFG, you’ll be sucked into his orbit.

Mark: A truly diabolical union hatched backstage, I don’t know what this means for the Empire. But getting on the subject of this match, BFG, quite possibly the most rotund member of the IWC roster has had his problems as of late with Zero. Last week he got involved in the bout between Rick-Rohl and Zero and this happened….

A flashback takes place on screen, the words “Two Weeks Ago” written in the upper corner. Images featuring BFG hopping the barricade and distracting Rick-Rohl are seen before cutting to Zero hitting his opponent with the STO. The clips cut to BFG extending a hand towards Zero in the ring before being hit with the STO as well and then left with a giant red Z painted on his chest. Comeau: BFG may have helped Zero out last week but he paid for his interference by being marked and humiliated. Now BFG’s hungry for some payback.

Arcane: Then they had better open an all you can eat “payback” buffet.

BFG looks at the Cartel-tron which is still showing images of the debacle from two weeks ago. Finally everything falls into complete darkness The lights suddenly go out, and the titantron goes static. The voice of a woman, pure and melodious speaks.

'When the hour reaches zero...
It is the very dead of night...
The King is Dead...
The Kingdom is plunged...
Into Anarchy...
All Hail The New King...'

At the last lime a strange logo appears over the static.

Strange electric music starts blasting through arena as the very ramp is lit up with torches held by what appear to be marionettes. Finally, after several moments of anticipation the house lights rise and BFG is spinning in circles punching the air. Obviously he thought Zero was going to mysteriously appear in the ring around him, however, his opponent had another arrival point in mind. Crouched on the announce table in front of Mark and Fox, is the masked enigma. Zero leaps from the table and then slides into the ring.

Mark: And there he is, Zero himself. The man of mystery who is taking the IWC by storm.

Arcane: Why do you think he’s wearing that mask and helmet? Maybe he’s got some really heinous British teeth. You’ll never see a mask over my face. The IWC would receive too many complaints from female viewers.

Comeau: As if we don’t receive enough already every time we air a Porno Lad promo. Speaking of which I understand we’ve finally gotten that brawl from a few moments ago contained backstage, and we’ll have…..WHOA!

Before the bell can ring BFG is bolting across the squared circle and throwing a lariat at Zero’s head. The masked man ducks the inbound lariat, removes his helmet, tosses it out of the ring and then delivers a swift kick right to the crease of his opponent’s knee.

BFG is brought down to a kneeling base while Zero leaps into the air and hits him to the back of the head with a reverse heel kick. The shot knocks the big man down to his elbows and knees, looking clearly shaken. Zero continues to maintain the advantage, stepping over his adversary and delivering a headbunt to the back of the skull.

Unfortunately for Zero he hadn’t counted on just how hard of a head his opponent possesses. He is left more discombobulated than BFG, staggering around and trying to shake the cobwebs out of his head. The big man stands up and grabs Zero’s ears, pulling him forward into his own headbunt.

Mark: BFG using his hard head to his advantage.

Arcane: Yeah, I use my hard head quite often as well, and much to my advantage mind you.

Mark: I’m not even going to touch that comment, for one it will have standards and practices all over us.

Instead of going down Zero staggers back into a turnbuckle, falling against it for support. He looks very shaken up by the head on collision as BFG backs to the center of the ring and prepares for a big splash. He comes charging in and engulfs Zero with all of his weight.

He now steps back out of the turnbuckle and waits for Zero to come stumbling right in being caught under the big man’s arm. BFG hoists Zero up into the air and then drops him to the canvas with a side slam before hooking the leg.

1

2

Zero’s shoulder flies free from the canvas, preventing his first defeat here in the IWC.

Mark: Zero with the kick out. I think he’s a little more motivated to win this match going up against a member of the Five Star Society considering Christian Savior’s affiliation within the group. Zero has made it abundantly clear that he’s after Christian and wants to pretty much ruin the man’s life.

Arcane: That’s easy, just shave his head while he’s sleeping.

With Zero down on the canvas BFG quickly goes to work. He stands, bounces from the cables and actually leaps into the air before coming down with all his weight behind an elbow drop. The point of the elbow connects directly to Zero’s sternum, perhaps bruising or even cracking it upon impact.

BFG rolls away from the tormented soul and builds some momentum by once again ricocheting from the ropes. He comes back in towards the laid out Zero and again jumps into the air, this time extending his leg to drop it. His rotund frame plummets into the canvas, Zero rolling out of the way just in the nick of time.

Comeau: I think if BFG had landed that leg drop Zero’s head would have exploded.

Arcane: I’m not sure how this ring remains upright whenever BFG comes crashing down onto it. Oh well, if it starts tipping over I’ll just spring into action and hold it up, because I’ve got the strength of Hercules and I’m as fast as Zeus’ lightning.

BFG rubs at his bum as the pain sets in from his botched leg drop. An already aching Zero moves in and shows his technical prowess by trapping both arms in a double chickenwing. He tries to interlock his hands behind BFG’s back to get the hold applied but his opponent is just too wide. As a result BFG stands up with Zero now mounted on top of his shoulder, still trying to keep both arms hooked.

BFG stands all the way up at this point as his opponent is forced to break the lock and go sliding down his back. He drops to the canvas, hands wrapped around BFG’s waist, going for the sunset flip. Unfortunately he can’t get the big man over and as a result BFG grins then kicks his legs out from under him. He crashes posterior first right into Zero’s chest, all of his weight seated upon his smaller opponent.

Arcane: Yikes. That’s one ass you don’t want to get familiar with.

Comeau: All of his weight coming down right on top of Zero. This may be it ladies and gentlemen, BFG may hand Zero his very first loss.

Referee Princeton slips into position and makes the count.

1

2

Zero somehow is able to squirm out from under his opponent in time to get a shoulder up. BFG is clearly frustrated by this development, reaching his feet and putting the boots to his already traumatized opponent. Finally he grabs Zero around the neck, leads the masked man to his feet and delivers yet another powerful headbunt. As a result Zero once again goes staggering into a turnbuckle, falling against it for support.

Instead of going for the splash like he did the last time BFG moves in and throws a back elbow directly into the side of his adversary’s face. He then does it once again, almost knocking a few teeth out in the process. Finally he engulfs Zero’s throat with both hands and hoists him up to the top rope. Once position on the turnbuckle BFG hooks his opponent’s arm and hip tosses him across the ring.

To the shock of everyone however, Zero flips over from his extreme height and lands on his feet in the center of the ring. A flabbergasted BFG comes charging in only to have Zero leap into the air and deliver a stiff jumping knee strike.

Mark: Zero had that well timed and he just NAILED BFG with that brutal blow with his knee. He’s gotten himself back into this ladies and gentlemen.

As BFG falls back into the turnbuckle for support Zero steadies himself then comes charging in. He leaps into the air and delivers a big lariat while both legs slip through the top and middle rope. He finds himself seated on the middle cable before wrapping his arm around BFG’s neck and dropping back, delivering a modified downward spiral.

Comeau: Zero is just so fluid in every move he connects with. He’s like water.

Fox: I just wonder why he’s got his face covered by that mask. What’s he hiding? Is Carrot Top under that thing or something?

BFG flops to his back and Zero makes the cover, wedging a forearm to his opponent’s face for good measure.

1

2

BFG puts his leg over the bottom rope, Princeton spotting it and informing Zero that his opponent has as thus kicked out.

Comeau: BFG barely avoiding the pin. He showed some good in ring instincts by knowing how close he was to those ropes.

Zero steadily rises to his feet and swipes both arms through the air, insinuating that he’s had enough of this. He grabs the hair of his far bigger opponent, beginning to lead him up to his feet. Just as it seems that he has things well in hand a twist is thrown into the mix. Miho Miyazaki bolts down the ramp, one hand held to her ailing spine and the other clutching a Singapore cane.

Mark: Of course, another member of Five Star Society getting involved. We’ve seen Miho and BFG team up in recent weeks, and now she/he/IT is going to get involved on her associate’s behalf. Watch out Zero.

Fox: Do all the women in this federation have dicks?

Miho hesitates at ringside, screaming towards BFG who is about to suffer the same fate that Rick-Rohl did last week. The banged up giant is on his feet as Zero gets a running start to deliver his version of the STO. He ricochets from the far cables and comes rushing back towards BFG who suddenly leaps forward into a spear. His shoulder drills Zero’s ribcage and sends him flipping over backwards.

Mark: GOOD LORD! Now that was a spear.

Fox: I’ve speared many women far harder than that.

Zero ends up on his stomach but his opponent quickly pushes him to his back and crawls into the cover. He throws all his weight on top of the masked man as the official’s hand slaps the canvas.

1

2

Zero yet again throws a shoulder from the canvas, avoiding the three count. An increasingly frustrated BFG has had enough. He rises to a knee and spots Miho lingering at ringside, now slapping his hands together and calling for the kindo stick.

Mark: Cheat to win, I guess that BFG’s philosophy.

The cane is raised into the air, Miho smiling, glad that she/he could be of service. Miho begins to toss the weapon into the ring only to have her plan thwarted. The second she lifts the cane above her head it’s snatched out of her clutches by Rick-Rohl. The crowd reacts with elation as Rick tosses the weapon up the ramp and boots Miho to the ribs. Miyazaki is doubled over and then scooped up onto Rick’s shoulder. Before Miho knows what’s what he’s being charged forward and driven into the thin protective mats with a running powerslam.

Mark: Brutal slam by Rick-Rohl, taking Miho out before she could effect this match and give BFG a win.

Miyazaki bridges her back from the mats, reaching for her kidneys while Rick kneels beside him, smirk present on his face. Inside of the ring BFG is livid. He stands up and shouts at Rick, promising revenge for his interference. He now takes Zero’s head into both palms and leads him up to his feet slowly.

He pictures Rick’s face on Zero’s body as he exploits his sheer strength by gorilla pressing his opponent into the air.

Comeau: Who knows what BFG has got on his mind now.

Fox: Probably something involving Fruit by the Foot.

Just as BFG begins to fill with confidence his crafty opponent slips off of his palm and falls to his shoulder. Zero wraps his arm around BFG’s neck and lands on his feet across the canvas, going for a DDT. The surprised bodyguard refuses to be finished off like this. He wedges his hands to Zero’s stomach and shoves him off, sending the masked man staggering backwards into the ropes.

BFG stands up and cocks back his fist just as Zero rushes forward and sweeps his leg out from under him, delivering the STO.

Mark: He hit it, the STO delivered out of nowhere.

BFG’s huge frame connects with enough force against the canvas to render him unconscious. Zero hooks his giant leg as the official makes the count.

1

2

3

The fans explode with elation at the sight of Zero picking up his second win here in the IWC over a very troublesome BFG.

Mark: And he does it again, the STO puts down yet another opponent. Zero coming into the IWC with a whole lot of momentum.

Fox: He won’t be the only one baby. Just wait till I make quick work of Evans tonight.

Zero rises to his feet in the center of the ring and briefly glances at Rick-Rohl, who claps from the ringside area. Rick is quite pleased to see his rival defeated here this evening.

Comeau: Well the issues between Rick-Rohl and BFG getting even more intense, but the story here is that Zero has now gone 2-0 in the IWC.

Fox: My undefeated record will far surpass his.

Zero overlooks the screaming crowd before finally dropping to both knees and kicking back his head. The lights suddenly fade, enveloping everything in shadows.

Mark: Does Zero have control over our lighting system or something?

Fox: Maybe the Undertaker taught him how to tinker with the building’s electrical supply.

The lights remain out for several seconds, just long enough for the fans to grow apprehensive. Finally when the lights come back up Zero is gone, leaving behind a battered BFG marked once again with a giant red Z across his chest. Oddly enough Miho has found her way into the ring as well, laid out right beside BFG and wearing the same “Z” upon her sternum.

Mark: Now Zero has left his mark on TWO members of the Five Star Society. He’s targeting everyone close to Christian Savior.

Fox: It should be fun to see what happens when those two finally cross paths.

Rick-Rohl remains at ringside, nodding his head and smiling from ear to ear.

Mark: Rick very much enjoying himself at the moment, an admirer of Zero’s handiwork, but will he be in the same rare mood when he teams up against Porno Lad & Christian Savior later tonight. It’s safe to say Rick and Zero have just shown up on the radar of the Five Star Society.

Fox: Meh’, I’m sure they don’t really care, half the members of their group are expendable….

Comeau: Sorry to interrupt Fox….

Fox: You had better be.

Mark: But I’ve just received word that something is going down backstage. Let’s head there now.

NO SURRENDER

The camera is fixated on the double doors providing the backstage entrance to the Manhattan Center. It remains positioned there for en eternity, the crowd anxiously waiting for the payoff. The climax is quite satisfying when one door opens and Johnny Kingdom steps inside.

Mark: He’s here, Johnny IS here at Riot! The Five Star Society were wrong, he’s not about to give up.

The Team Leader storms into the building with bag strapped over his shoulder, the Tag Team title hanging from his palm and a general expression of malevolence.

Comeau: Something tells me we’re headed towards another explosion between the Empire and the Five Star Society.

Fox: Well if they kill each other it means more screen time for me, so I’m all for it.

Mark: What’s going to happen now that the Team Leader is in the building?

Johnny continues marching with a purpose through the corridor but the scene transitions from the long stretch of hallway to the confined quarters of the VIP dressing room. The glow of the television, bearing images of Kingdom’s arrival, highlights the faces of two very interested viewers, Christian Savior and Porno Lad. The two stand by side with eyes glued to the screen.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

Is that a bird, is it a plane? No, it’s Jerry Lawler in a Superman theme pajama onesy

STRATEGY

Jon: Thanks again for giving me your all out there….

Jon Rich’s hand interlocks with Axl Evermore’s. Both men grin despite the pain they’ve inflicted on one another throughout the night. They’ve done so much damage to one another that even the process of shaking hands is almost crippling them. Nevertheless they continue to smirk and compliment one another.

Rich: I can’t tell you how long it’s been since I went out there and just had fun.

Axl: I had a load of fun out there too, no matter what my throat is telling me.

He rubs at his neck, which is slightly bruised.

Jon: Just shows how much I respect you man. Got to go after any advantage I can.

Evermore: That’s true, and not like I was expecting you to take it easy on me. But Jesus dude, my throat feels more sore than Katelyn Buehler’s.

Rich: Could be worse. It could be as sore as her….

Axl: Watch yourself.

Jon: Anyway man, shits and giggles aside. Despite what happened at the end of our match just want you to know that it was an honor to face you tonight.

The palm once again extends and Axl exerts his strained muscles to lift his arm and accept the gesture.

Evermore: Same here. You proved to me that you are the Real Deal GUARANTEED. Let’s just hope we can do it again some time.

Rich: Some time soon.

The hands part and Evermore vacates the dressing room, dragging his luggage along behind. With a smile on his face Jon watches Axl leave, pleased by his performance this evening.

Pat: My oh my…..

From the shadows behind Jon a figure emerges. Pat Evans leans forward out of the darkness and into the spare light, hands interlocked, and apathetic expression on his face.

Evans: I suddenly feel like I’m on the Dating Game. You gonna take him to the carnival and win him the big stuffed elephant now?

The grin doesn’t fade from Jon’s face, still high on life after putting his fists to the face of Christian.

Rich: Why if it isn’t Patrick James Evans. I don’t think I’ve seen you since I ended your undefeated streak.

The jab only amuses Evans.

Evans: If I cared about winning records that would have stung.

Jon: Do you actually CARE about anything?

Evans pauses to think, leading to a prolonged awkward silence.

Rich: I thought you cared about crushing Christian’s skull with your own two hands….

Pat: The thought does amuse me.

Jon:….but apparently you didn’t CARE enough to join in on our little raiding party. Where were you when Jackson and I went out there to get our hands on the Five Star Society? Huh? Off tutoring some impressionable young poon, were you?

Evans: Jon, Jon, Jon, calm down, think tranquil thoughts….

Evans slices the air with his open palm.

Pat: Am I really the one your angry with here?

Now its Jon who awkwardly pauses for thought.

Rich: What you talkin’ bout Willis?

Evans: Cute, if not outdated. Just face it Jon, you’re not upset with me, you’re upset with someone else. You really need to work on your transference issues. Why are you confronting me when you really want to be giving Axl a stern lecturing?

Jon’s eyebrow arches.

Pat: I mean the guy claims to have such respect and admiration for you, but yet when you were out there killing yourself to beat the 5 Star Society, where was he? What was his excuse for not showing up when you needed him?

Rich wishes to respond but doesn’t have a comeback or snappy retort.

Evans: I choose to employ other tactics than face to face combat. I know the best way to get into Christian’s head is not by using my hands, it’s by using my brain.

The temple is tapped as a visual aid.

Pat: That’s the reason I didn’t come rushing out there employing some barbaric strategy. That’s my excuse, what’s Axl’s?

After stirring the pot Evans decides to head towards the ring. Before he can fully vacate the building, Jon turns and gets in the last word.

Jon: Good luck.

Evans pauses in the doorway but doesn’t turn back to look at his well wisher. He lingers for only a moment before finally stepping out into the hall and leaving Jon alone with his thoughts.

JACKSON ADAMS © VS. ROBIN BROOKS

The show returns to the ringside area where Mark Comeau and Fox Arcane remain seated behind the announce table. While Fox is signing a few autographs for the more desirable members of the audience, Mark is all business.

Mark: Things getting a bit more intriguing backstage, Pat Evans creating a little bit of tension between Jon Rich and Axl Evermore. Let’s not forget that Axl and Evans have a LONG history one another.

Fox: Silly Mark, how can one forget if they never knew about it in the first place?

Mark: You know, most guys would actually research their job and know a few things about it before blindly jumping on board.

Fox: Research is for the weak.

The ringside area grows Semi dim as the Cartel-Tron illuminates. Flashes of a man can be seen doing different wrestling maneuvers to various wrestlers. The words Jackson Adams flicker on the screen as we hear Break by Three Days Grace start to play over the P.A. System.

"Tonight, my head is spinning
I need something to pick me up
I've tried but nothing is working
I won't stop
I won't say I've had enough
Tonight, I start the fire
Tonight I break away"

Jackson Adams steps through the entrance ramp and the lights start to flicker wildly. He is wearing a hooded jacket with the hood covering his eyes, he walks slowly to the top of the ramp, Submission Title glistening around his waist.

"Break!
Away from everybody
Break!
Away from everything
If you can't stand the way this place is
Take, yourself to higher places"

He stops for a moment, looks up then quickly jerks down the hood with an arrogant skip, as the pyros shoot up behind him causing a white flash.

"At night I feel like a vampire
It's not right
I just can't give it up
I'll try to get myself higher
Let's go
We're gonna light it up
Tonight we start the fire
Tonight we break away"

As the Pyros fade we can see the arrogance and readiness in Jackson's eyes as he starts to head towards the ring.

"Break!
Away from everybody
Break!
Away from everything
If you can't stand the way this place is
Take, yourself to higher places

Oh oh oh"

Jackson cockily strides down to the ring flashing smarmy grins to the crowd as they are giving him a mixed reaction.

"If you can't stand,
The way this place is
Take, yourself, to higher places"

He hops up on the apron then wipes his feet on the apron before he steps into the ring.

"Break!
Away from everybody
Break!
Away from everything
If you can't stand the way this place is
Take, yourself to higher places

Oh oh

Higher places,
Oh oh
To higher places,
Oh oh
Higher places,
Take yourself to higher places"

The song starts to fade and the lights turn to normal as Jackson does an arrogant hop across the ring taking off his jacket and tossing it to the floor. He removes his championship before handing it off to the official.

Mark: THE Submission Champion, and the self described HOTTEST commodity in all of wrestling is now entering the ring. Since winning that belt at the Overbooked Extravaganza we’ve seen an entirely different side of Jackson Adams. Sure the arrogance is still there but he’s shed that youthful chip on his shoulder and is now trying to bring respect back to the IWC.

Arcane: If I hear the word “respect” used again, I swear you had better find me a barf bag. And a nice barf bag too, preferably something made of leather. I could barely hold down my lunch watching that Jon Rich, Axl Evermore match earlier, so please, stop with this respect brouhaha.

Mark: Believe it or not, Fox, there’s more to wrestling than just getting your face on the camera and earning a paycheck.

Fox: The hell you say.

Comeau: Some guys actually trying to fight for tradition, for honor. It’s honor and tradition that brings Jackson to the ring tonight, as he actually challenged Robin to face him here tonight for the very belt he took from her at the pay-per-view.

Jackson has removed his newest t-shirt and now taunts the fans by pretending to throw it into the crowd. He stops, smiles and steps to the opposite side of the ring, taunting them with it as well. He steps back laughing before he finally does thrown his t-shirt into the stands where a lucky fan eagerly grabs hold of it.

Mark: Jackson really looks to be in high spirits tonight all things considered. I guess he’s still feeding off of that rally cry from the roster earlier tonight when they took it to this newly formed Five Star….what the….?

Billy: Stop cheering, stop cupping Jackson’s testicles and puckering your lips up to his ass, just STOP….

The fans are flabbergasted and Adams is just confused as Billy Mayne moves to the stage, dressed in a jump suit and flanked on both sides by Damien Pierce and Andy Madrox, two bring young faces here on the IWC roster.

Mark: What in the blue blazes is this? Why are Andy Madrox and Damien Pierce out here with Billy Mayne?

Fox: And why is that skinny little bastard wearing a warm up suit? I don’t think he realizes that once you put that on your actually expected to exercise.

Jackson tilts his head and crosses his arms as he waits on an explanation from his former stalker.

Mayne: Jackson Adams, you cheap jerk…!

Instead of eliciting anger the only thing Billy gets out of Jackson is a smirk.

Billy: You don’t deserve the adulation of these people. Do you idiots here tonight even realize what your doing?

Billy’s obnoxious voice thankfully becomes drowned out by the crowd’s boos.

Mayne: You’re cheering for a man who went out of his way to torment each and everyone of you for years. He made your lives miserable, MISERABLE! And yet here you are dropping to your knees before him, opening your mouths, and well, you can finish the rest of that statement.

The more Billy preaches the less interested the crowd becomes. Jackson even seems to be loosing interest.

Billy: And do you all know what you’ll get for supporting Adams? Do you know how he’ll reward your grade A cock-sucking? When your down on your luck, as often as your down on your knees, he’ll make you BEG for his help. Despite all the time you’ve spent defending him, and singing his praises, he’ll turn on you, just like he turned on AWOL, just like he turned on Hurse, and just like he turned on me. But I’ll tell you who won’t turn their back on you in your desperate hour, who knows a thing or two about “loyalty.” 5 STAR SOCIETY!

Every time that name is spoken the crowd grows a little more tense, especially when Billy says it with such emotion. His eyes twinkle and joy fills his face upon uttering the three magic words that comprise the name of his newest employers.

Mayne: Although Christian may have fired me, all it took was a little convincing from Robin, Paris, and the woman who simply can’t get enough of my manly lovin’, Katelyn Parkwood, for him to see the light. They showed him the error of his ways and he basically BEGGED me to come back. Now that’s what I call appreciation, that’s what I call RESPECT. And no, they didn’t just rehire me to be their bag boy….

Jackson shrugs towards the audience.

Jackson: I could have made him carry my jockstrap.

Billy: They offered me a position I couldn’t turn down. So it is with great honor that I announce here and now that I, Billy Mayne, am officially the PR representative of the Five Star Society.

Billy’s excited chuckle is truly grating on the nerves of the fans.

Mayne: And as their new PR agent, I’ve come out here to inform you, Jackson, that not only are you undeserving of these peoples’ support, but your also undeserving of a match against Robin Brooks. That’s right Goat Boy, your not getting Robin in this ring tonight.

Billy’s eardrums almost burst due to the boos from the crowd. Instead of responding with vulgarities, Jackson decides to react with gestures, shaking his head apathetically.

Billy: Unfortunately Robin suffered an injury in that unprovoked attack from earlier tonight and instead of risking further damage, she just decided facing you wasn’t worth it, Adams. But don’t worry boy-o, because she found some suitable replacements. One man…..no, sorry, two men……wait, sorry again, I mean, THREE men, will challenge you here tonight for your Submission Title, and the only way your leaving with that belt is by making them all tap out.

Mark: He’s got to be joking, that’s ridiculous. Adams basically forced to run a gauntlet tonight.

Mayne: Damien Pierce and Andy Madrox here, have been chosen as Robin’s surrogates, and if by some miracle you can make the two of them tap out, then it’ll come down to you and…….ME!

Comeau: Now I know he’s joking.

Billy digs his fingers into his chest and squares up his shoulders, trying to look intimidating. All he gets out of Adams is a chuckle however, Jackson actually doubling over as he grips at his ribs.

Billy: Yeah, yeah, you won’t be laughing when I make you tap out.

The insinuation only makes Adams laugh even harder, his face going red as he almost falls over. He leans against a turnbuckle, wiping tears out of his eyes.

Mayne: Referee, ring the bell.

Official Princeton, who was already in the ring sighs and then demands the bell be rung. It chimes in the background and Damien Pierce comes sliding into the ring. The quick and nimble star rushes up behind the still laughing Adams and throws a right hand only to have it blocked. Jackson spins around and pops Pierce under the jaw, then does it again, and again, before finally capping off his series of shots with a headbunt. Damien is taken to the canvas while the crowd rises to its feet, cheering.

Comeau: I guess Damien Pierce is the first man to face off against Adams here and he’s not off to a very good start at all.

Fox: If they really wanted to punish Adams they should have put me in there, I would have snapped his ankle like a twig and won his belt in one tenth of a nano second.

Mark: Well let’s see how this young buck does against the very crafty in ring veteran.

Damien reaches his feet only to be clobbered with a lariat to the throat sending him right back down. Right after hitting the canvas Pierce is popping back up to his feet just as Adams bounces from the ropes and builds momentum behind a running European Uppercut. The force of the blow sends Damien down again and rolling in the direction of a turnbuckle.

Mark: Jackson controlling this young newcomer thus far, who we only saw briefly in a dark match at the Overbooked Extravaganza where he lost, ironically enough, to Andy Madrox. This is a hell of an opportunity for Damien though, he could leave here tonight the Submission Champion.

Although Damien is back up he prepares to return to the canvas as the champion comes stepping towards him. It’s at this point that Damien shocks the champion via a step up enzugari to the back of his head. Jackson tumbles forward into a turnbuckle while Billy cheers at ringside.

Mayne: YAAAAAY! There you go!

Mayne turns towards the fans and tries to get them behind Damien only to receive harsh glares and utter silence. The fans brim with anger at the sight of Damien stomping away at Jackson’s stomach and throwing repeated punches into the side of his face. He finally takes Jackson around the chest and pulls him out of the turnbuckle into a knee strike to the ab muscles.

Adams doubles over and Damien steps around behind him, wrapping both arms around his mid-section and applying an inverted bear-hug.

Mark: Now this is impressive, Damien has got Jackson tied up in the bear-hug, we could see a major upset this evening.

Fox: If this guy wins a title in only his second match and I wasn’t given an immediate World Title shot in my debut then I’m ripping up my contract.

Damien’s grip may be tight but Jackson isn’t about to be thwarted by his submission. A rear elbow drills the orbital socket of Pierce, but he is still holding on. Adams’ elbow hits him again, this time to the temple, finally causing his hands to become unclasped. Damien stumbles around, shaking off the blows to his head before Adams delivers another quick European Uppercut then takes his opponent by the wrist.

He tries to shoot Damien off into the opposite ropes only for Pierce to spin around and instead pull Jackson forward into a short arm clothesline. Jackson ducks the inbound arm, grabs the crease of Damien’s elbow and twists him around into a double underhook. Adams hoists Pierce up into what at first appears to be the Angel’s Wings before delivering a twist of fate style diamond cutter out of the elevated position.

Mark: WHOA! I believe Jackson calls that the Blissful Arrogance, and believe me, it was Blissful.

Fox: You want bliss? Check out my abs.

Comeau: Haven’t you already forced me to do that enough tonight?

Damien flops over onto his back after being planted so violently into the canvas and is arm is now folded over backwards into a top wrist lock. Jackson reaches around behind his head and applies the Anaconda Vice at this point, trapping Damien in a hold that may be inescapable. Although Billy begs and pleads with Pierce to fight it, his hand raises into the air and begins slapping the canvas almost immediately.

Mark: And Damien Pierce taps out in under a minute to Jackson Adams. The Submission Champion putting Pierce away quick, leaving himself with plenty of energy to keep defending his title.

Fox: If he needs training in endurance I could always help, believe me, if there’s one thing I’m an expert with, it’s stamina.

Billy is stunned that Pierce was forced into submission with such ease but snaps out of his astonishment long enough to direct Andy into the ring. Madrox is already sliding in before the first syllable could escape Billy’s mouth. He rushes up right behind a standing Adams and delivers a jumping spinning heel kick to the back of his head.

The collision sends Adams collapsing from his feet throat first into the middle rope. Damien has rolled out of the ring and is getting an earful from Billy as he shambles up the ramp. Meanwhile, inside of the ring Andy has now dropped into a baseball slide, going under the ropes and landing on his feet across the outside mats. He only stands under Adams for a moment before delivering a straight jab directly to his forehead.

Mark: No rest period for Adams, his second opponent Andy Madrox all over him.

The shot to the jaw has left Jackson rolling towards the center of the ring. Finally he starts to stand, rubbing at his mouth in the process and forced to listen to Billy berating him from ringside.

Billy: That’s what you get Jackson, that’s what you get you prissy little bastard!

Mayne commences with laughter at the expense of his former friend. Jackson is upright but bent forward as Madrox rushes up beside him and leaps into the air, he drops the back of his leg across Adams’ head and then plants him face first into the canvas with the famouser.

Mayne: NICE! HAHAHAHA.

Mark: Billy Mayne hamming it up at ringside, at least he’s not doing it on commentary right here beside me though.

Fox: Yes, instead you were graced with my commentating skills.

Mark: God my life really is horrible.

Madrox gets to his feet and postures for the booing crowd before going right back after the ailing Adams. He drags Jackson to his knees then takes off into the ropes once more. He ricochets from the cables then leaps high into the air for another famouser. This time Jackson was prepared though, standing up, catching both of Andy’s legs and dropping him to the canvas. He steps through and rolls Madrox over to his stomach before leaning back into the Straight Shooter.

Mark: He’s got on the same hold he forced Hurse to tap out to last week. The Straight Shooter applied this time on Madrox.

Andy’s roars of pain cut through the Manhattan Center as he pushes himself up onto his palms and desperately looks towards the ropes. They are too far away and the pain is too much for his body to bear. All the excitement and joy fades from Billy’s face the moment he spots Andy’s hand slapping the canvas.

Comeau: Andy TAPS! Jackson getting another submission in record time. This means that the match has come down to just two men. Hahahaha-Jackson Adams and – hahahahaha, Billy – hahaha – Mayne!

Andy tumbles out of the ring and falls at Billy’s feet as the former commentator looks on, preparing to vomit. His stomach twists and turns due to the fear, the apprehension of stepping into the ring with a man he knows wants his blood. He’s gotten himself in way over his head yet again, realizing this the moment that his eyes transfer from Andy to the smirk on Jackson’s face.

Mark: That’s right Billy, you’ve got to get in there against Adams, go on, hop in the ring.

Arcane: This is cruel.

Comeau: You actually care what happens to Billy Mayne?

Fox: NO! It’s cruel forcing us all to look at Billy’s face for such a prolonged period.

Mark: For the first time tonight I actually agree with you.

Billy’s entire body is shaking and it looks as if his heart is wedged in his throat. Nevertheless he begins to pull himself up onto the apron, realizing that he’s obligated to follow through with his plan, no matter how far it’s gone awry. The moment his hands wrap around the top rope Billy watches Jackson’s smile fade and the Submission Champion come storming in.

He grabs the top rope and yanks up on it causing Billy to go flipping up and over the cable then crashing across his seat inside of the ring.

Comeau: Jackson bringing Billy into the ring and now it’s time for a little payback.

Mayne squeals like a wee lass as he scrambles to his feet and is caught by the back of the head. Jackson charges him across the ring and drives him face first into one of the turnbuckles. He bounces off, turning away from the corner and then being charged into the diagonal one. Yet again his face crashes into the corner post and he goes flying back, crumbling to the canvas.

Mark: Adams is beating Billy silly and he’s enjoying every moment of it.

Fox: I wish I could say the same, it’s actually putting me to sleep.

A horrified Billy tries to flee the ring yet again, crawling towards the ropes and getting half way through them before his ankle is caught in Jackson’s hands. Much like a cat who’s caught a mouse, Jackson is toying with his prey. A screaming Billy is dragged back into the ring by his ankle as Adams yanks him up to his feet, unzips his warm up jacket and exposes Mayne’s pale white chest.

He gives the chest a little color by delivering a sickening knife edge chop straight across it. The Champion’s blow connects with enough force to send Billy spiraling into the ropes, unable to cry out in pain. His back wedges to the cables, holding him up long enough for Adams to move in with yet another chop to the sternum.

Comeau: If I were Billy I already would have shouted the words “I quit” or tapped out ages ago.

Jackson delivers another knife edge chop and now Billy is taking Mark up on his advice. He lifts his hand into the air to symbolically tap out only to have Adams grab his fingers and squeeze them.

Jackson: No, no, no, your not getting off that easily.

Billy is dragged to the center of the ring despite his best efforts to free himself then kicked to the gut, doubling him over. The ever so arrogant Adams turns away from his opponent and pantomimes a belt across his waist, receiving applause from his fans. Little does he know that his showboating will prove costly. Billy has already dug into his pants pocket and removed a hand full of powder.

Mark: Oh no, Adams watch out behind you, Billy’s about to blind you.

Arcane: Not like Jackson wasn’t already going blind thanks to the glare from Billy’s pale bosoms.

The doubled over Mayne spreads the powder out between both palms, knowing that cheating will provide his only salvation in this match. Unfortunately for Billy, it proves to be his downfall. Jackson suddenly mule kicks and hits Mayne’s knuckles, causing the powder to fly up into his own eyes.

Comeau: Hahahaha, the powder biting Billy in the ass.

Mayne stands up blinking his eyes rapidly, somehow things have just gone from bad to worse for him. Adams then turns around, overlooks the fans and sighs, deciding to be merciful. He reaches out and snags both of Billy’s knees, tripping him to his back then rolling him over into the Straight Shooter.

Within seconds Billy’s hand is slapping the canvas and he’s crying out for mercy.

Mark: Billy tapping, meaning Jackson retains his title. He just defeated three opponents in under five minutes via submissions. It doesn’t get anymore impressive than that.

Fox: Just you wait and see what I do in the ring in just a few minutes.

The crowd is elated over this dominate victory from the Submission Champion who takes a few moments longer to hold Billy in the Straight Shooter. Finally at the referee’s behest Jackson breaks the hold, takes his belt away from the official and lifts it high above his head once again. The crowd is absolutely ecstatic at the sight of him still holding the championship and overcoming all the obstacles that the Five Star Society threw at him tonight.

Mark: Another successful defense by Jackson Adams, and he’ll be riding his momentum forward into what could be the biggest match of his career at Extinction when the Empire collides with the 5 Star Society.

Fox: I hope he brings his big boy pants to that match, Mark. Although to me, it still looks like he has some growing up to do.

Jackson drops the Submission Title onto his shoulder where it’s nestled against his flesh. Although he didn’t get his hands on Robin Brooks tonight, he could take some satisfaction away from this match in knowing that he forced THREE opponents to tap, including Billy Mayne. He climbs a nearby turnbuckle and once positioned lifts the Submission Title up high, showing the fans the very gold that validates all of his claims.

PEP TALK

Michelle’s grim face comes to view once again, this time her cheeks are refusing to budge in order to form a smile. She has no intention of forcing herself to feign excitement as she holds mic to lips and lurks in the standard interview area.

Michelle: It’s backstage Blacker yet again….nooooo….not backdoor Blacker, so stop snickering you little fifteen year old pervs. Speaking of adolescents raging on hormones, I’m standing here beside another new face here to the IWC….Theodore Noel Garrison. Welcome Ted.

The camera pans out to reveal the newest edition to the IWC roster. A scrawny man with a plain white collar shirt and a briefcase swaying from his hand steps to Michelle’s side, trying to figure out if she insulted him in the process of his introduction.

Blacker: Quickly, give us the bullet-points. What’s your motivation, what’s your ridiculous gimmick, what’s your trademark, etcetera etcetera.

Theodore: Well Michelle, I pride myself on being a wrestler, but first and foremost I’m a business man. And for a guy with my type of training, I see nothing but dollar signs in my future here with the IWC.

Michelle: Explain.

Theodore: Michelle, my oh so lovely yet incredibly creepy one, I offer a very RARE service, a commodity you don’t see very much of in wrestling. And that commodity is always on sale to the highest bidder.

Blacker: If it’s prostitution we already have enough of that in this company, believe me.

Theodore: Actually, it can be considered a form of prostitution. Let’s just say it’ll involve me laying on my back a lot…..

Michelle can’t help but to get a mental image that causes her to cringe.

Theodore: But I won’t be doing what you think. First, before any of that, I’ve got to set up my new enterprise, I’ve got to lay the ground work, and hire some new talent……

Before the statement can be finished a boot is wedged to Theodore’s backside and he is kicked out of the interview zone. Michelle watches as he goes flying by then turns her eyes, which double in width, towards Johnny Kingdom. Yet again the roof is almost blown off the Manhattan Center as the Tag Team Champion steps forward and snaps his fingers for the microphone. Michelle eagerly gives it up and the Team Leader gestures for her to scram.

Johnny: Ladies and gentlemen….

When his eyes turn towards the arena the building fills with that electric excitement.

Johnny: Let me be the first to dispel all the rumors. You see, the moment I arrived here tonight, I heard a very nasty, totally unfounded rumor. The type of rumor you see posted on the covers of Weekly World News, you know, headlines like Barack Obama is a three breasted alien, or that Sarah Palin has an IQ of 150. Non sense, utterly ridiculous, totally OUTRAGEOUS, that’s the only way this rumor can be described.

It almost pains Kingdom to continue.

Johnny: And get this, the rumor originated from the Five Star Society. Go figure.

After a shaking of the head he proceeds.

Kingdom: The rumor I’m talking about, this liable, incomprehensible slur that’s far worse than anything Larry Johnson ever posted on his Twitter account, relates to the Half Star Society having the AUDACITY to claim that they’re entertaining to watch.

Johnny almost throws up in his mouth.

Kingdom: Now I’ve heard some whoppers in my time, but this takes the hook. They actually expect people to believe that they’re marketable, that they’re the future of this company, that people will actually pay to see them? I hope everyone is getting as good of a laugh out of this as I am. I’d believe the Richard Gere gerbil story over this rumor.

He pauses for the applause and laughter.

Johnny: And then they go on acting as if they’re breaking some type of spoiler warning. So let me just put it out there for everyone. How about I shoot from the hip and tell it straight. I’m NOT retiring from the IWC….

The crowd reacts with an explosive ovation.

Johnny: If the Half Star Society believes that they can collaborate and take me out with such ease, obviously they don’t know a thing about me. My most admirable trait is my stubbornness. I’m like a pit-bull, my jaws are clamped onto the IWC and they’re not letting go. Plenty of people have tried countless times before to take me out, to put me on the sideline, in fact, every heel stable that’s created bi-monthly has attempted to end my career. The Highrollers, the Alpha Generation, the Syndicate, the Conspiracy, the Network….the list goes on and on and on and on and on. This whole routine has gotten so boring. For a couple of people who pride themselves on being creative, being fresh and original, the Half Star Society are about as redundant as a Johnny Kingdom, Daemon Frost rivalry.

Johnny shudders at the thought of another lengthy feud between he and Frost.

Kingdom: Although, and I never thought I’d say this, I’d probably give my left testicle to have Daemon Frost back trying to murder me over the taste of his eggs. Anything is better than Porno Lad….JESUS CHRIST…Porno Lad? He’s the great Satan this time? And he’s teaming with Robin Brooks and Christian Savior, two perennial jobbers? I’m supposed to be intimidated by this? No, no, they expect me to be so terrified that I actually retire? Am I on Punk’d? If so I swear I’m going to stuff one of those obnoxious trucker hats straight up Ashton Kutcher’s vagina.

For some reason Johnny is now suffering from a horrid migraine.

Kingdom: Frankly I’m not intimidated, and I’m not impressed. I don’t care how long the Half Star Society has been developing this convoluted plot filled with about a billion holes. I don’t care if they’ve got fifty of the most useless roster members to have EVER competed in a professional wrestling ring on their side. I don’t care about the Half Star Society AT ALL! To me there just a flavor of the month, their like that “where’s the beef” line. Soon, they’ll fade right back into obscurity.

The crowd cheers, liking the idea….no….liking that the idea came from the Team Leader’s manipulative mind.

Kingdom: So bottom line, Half Star Society, you FAILED. In fact, you EPIC FAILED! You failed to end my career, you failed to entertain me, and you failed to interest me even in the slightest. The only reason I’m even going to tolerate matches against your group, is so that I can actually help SPIKE the ratings. So that the company doesn’t fold due to a dip in viewership when your faces are on the screen. See, unlike some people I happen to want this company survive, to thrive, and I know the only way to accomplish that is by stepping into the ring and carrying the IWC on MY back. I’ve been doing it for years, and I’ll be doing it for years to come.

After the insinuation is made Kingdom waltzes off camera, looking entirely unconcerned. As he walks away the camera turns from his back to the interview section. Now standing in the very spot where Kingdom just delivered his speech is Orlando Cruze, both arms crossed over his chest and head tilted.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

The Greatest Freak Out of All Times

CONGRATULATIONS

Hurse: I know your back here somewhere, come out Robin. You can’t hide forever.

Clearly Hurse is upset as he maneuvers through the corridor, pushing open doors on both sides and peeking inside.

Hurse: Come on out, you know I’m not going to hurt you. You can trust dear old loveable Hurse.

Upon turning to look into another empty room a steel wrench can be seen behind his back. He proceeds onward, continuing to sniff Robin out like he were a blood hound.

Hurse: Listen now sweety, I’m not upset about what you did to Jackson Adams. You know I hate him as much as you do, the guy stabbed us BOTH in the back. He really didn’t deserve to face you out there tonights. So just come on out of whatever hole your hiding in and we can talk things over, okay?

There is no response, Robin clearly not an idiot. Therefore Hurse keeps marching until a door opens down the hall and an unfamiliar figure exits. A nice suit adorns his frame as well as a stethoscope.

Hurse: YOU! Hold it right there Patch Adams.

Hurse steps towards the doctor, still hiding the wrench behind his back.

Hurse: Maybe you can help me.

Doctor: Maybe I can. What can I do you for?

Hurse: I’m looking for my no good rotten skank of an ex girlfriend. Seen her around?

Doctor: You just described every woman I’ve seen tonight. Can you be a bit more descriptive?

Hurse: Her name is Brooks, Robin Brooks, aka Benedict Arnold aka Crouching Tiger, Hidden Sausage. She’s tall, good looking, evil, her eyes are……ummmm…..uhhh….

Doctor: You don’t even know what color your ex girlfriends eyes are?

Hurse: Give me a minute, it’ll come to me.

He keeps tapping his finger to his lower lip in deep thought.

Doctor: Just so happens Robin is right here in this room.

He gestures to the closed door behind his back. Hurse perks up and grins sinisterly.

Hurse: That’s gangbusters. Thanks for the help, I need to pay her a little visit.

Just as Hurse grabs the knob he feels a pressure on his wrist. He follows the hand gripping his arm all the way up to the Doctor’s face.

Hurse: It’s kind of hard to open the door and bludgeon my ex with you copping a feel.

The Doctor removes his hand so that his gesture is no longer misinterpreted.

Doctor: Sorry to intervene, but I just thought you should know that if you intend on hurting you’re ex, well….to put it blunt….she’s pregnant.

Hurse’s face goes as white as a pillow sheet.

Hurse: Come again?

Doctor: I said that she’s pregnant.

Hurse: Pardon?

Doctor: She’s knocked up, got a bun in the oven.

Hurse: Clarify yourself.

The Doctor is at a loss for euphemisms.

Doctor: There’s no other way I can put it, sir. Robin Brooks is pregnant.

Hurse: Impossible.

The thought is absolutely ridiculous in the mind of the Master of Control, who is immediately inclined to resort to denial.

Hurse: She’s just faking it, everyone knows that. I mean, she just used her fake pregnancy as a tactic to get out of facing Adams.

Doctor: Which I advised that she do so she wouldn’t put anymore undo stress on the baby.

Hurse is officially freaking out at this point.

Hurse: So your telling me….

Doctor: Yes, yes I am.

Hurse: That she’s…..

Doctor: Yes.

Hurse: Baby in the belly….

Doctor: Correct.

Hurse: No doubt about it?

Doctor: No doubt.

Sweat builds on his brow.

Hurse: And who’s the father? Not me, couldn’t be me, I took a shit load of birth control pills every time we had sex.

Doctor: Well if there’s a possibility that you could be the father, I could run a simple paternity test. Would just involve a swab of your saliva.

His heart beat is racing as Hurse rubs at the skin between both eyes, trying to deal with the fact that his whole life has come to a screeching halt within the span of a minute.

PAT EVANS VS. FOX ARCANE

The camera returns to the ringside area where Mark is taking a deep breathe and Fox is in the process of removing his designer shirt.

Mark: Hurse getting some troubling news backstage.

Fox: Yeah, yeah, his bitch is pregnant, whatever. The only thing people need concern themselves with is my in ring debut. The time has come Mark, greatness is upon you. Fox Arcane is about to step foot in an IWC ring. This is a moment you’re going to want to tell your children about. If you ever have kids that is.

Mark: Good luck I guess.

Fox: Like I need luck.

The headset is tossed down onto the table at this point and Arcane is slipping into the ring. He doesn’t even bother to adorn himself with traditional wrestling gear, still wearing his expensive dress slacks.

Comeau: Fox Arcane entering the ring ready to compete in his first ever singles match here in the IWC. Thankfully I’ll get a few seconds away from him here on commentary to hear myself think.

Fox is warming up in the ring while “Outsider” erupts over the PA system and causes the crowd to explode. They begin cheering and chanting Pat’s name as he steps out onto the stage and overlooks the hundreds upon hundred of teeming fans. Evans merely sneers and embarks towards the ring, ignoring the many hands outstretched in his direction. He also pays Arcane little mind upon rolling into the ring and slouching against a corner. Evans spends so much time ignoring everything around him that he fails to notice the lack of a referee in the ring.

Mark: Evans, a former Submission, Tag Team, and X-Class Champion has really got his head on straight now. Much like Adams, I think he’s realized the errors of his ways and is trying to turn his life around. After pinning Christian at the Overbooked Extravaganza and taking his X-Class Title, Pat has a renewed vigor, which means bad things for the Five Star Society.

Fox looks towards some women in the audience and seems to be making some wise cracks at the expense of his opponent. Evans could care less what his adversary thinks of him, his mind only on the match. He waits and waits and waits for the bell to chime, but it never rings.

Comeau: I can’t believe it’s just dawning on me, but there’s no official in this match. Where is Fitzpatrick or Princeton?

The anticipation is killing Evans, who really wants to mangle his opponent. His desire is trumped by his rage though, when a peroxide dyed head appears at ringside. The fans share in Pat’s resentment as Alex Ingelson slips into the ring and confidently smirks in Evans’ direction.

Mark: Wait, oh man, come on. Alex Ingelson? HE’S officiating this match? He’s on the payroll of Christian Savior and the Five Star Society. There’s no way he’ll call it right down the middle.

It doesn’t take long for Alex to call for the bell and for Evans to get up into his face. Pat marches straight towards Ingelson and gets nose to nose with the corrupt official. Alex backs up towards a turnbuckle, repeatedly gesturing to his striped shirt, trying to back Evans off. There are no threats that he can make that will put a collar back on the rabid dog that is Evans.

Suddenly Fox grabs Pat by the shoulder though and capitalizes on the distraction. Evans is spun around as Fox leaps into the air and cracks him in the mouth with a back heel kick. Evans tumbles to the canvas across his back and Arcane quickly scrambles into the cover.

Comeau: Impressive start by Arcane with a NASTY kick to his opponent’s face.

Ingelson drops down into position and slaps the canvas as quickly as his arm can move.

1

2

Pat somehow kicks out in spite of the official’s fast count.

Mark: Now see, this is exactly what I was worried about, Ingelson making the fast count, trying to screw Evans out of this match. That’s the only reason he was put in charge of referring this bout.

Although Alex counted as quick as he could, Fox is still dissatisfied with the speed of the count. He slaps his palms together and urges Alex to count at regular speed next time, making it clear that he wants to win this match clean. He grabs a stunned Evans by the hair and leads him up to his feet. Once he’s got his opponent upright, Fox stomps his foot and points at his heel.

Fox: So nice you get to see it twice.

He leaps into the air once again to deliver a second back heel kick on Pat’s face only for his ankle to become caught in his opponent’s hands. Fox falls to the canvas with Evans standing over him applying the ankle lock submission.

Mark: Evans caught Arcane and he’s applied the ankle lock out of nowhere.

Fox squirms from side to side across the canvas, desperately trying to avail himself of this painful move. Finally he rolls to his back and bends his knees, causing Evans to double over as he tries to keep hold of the ankle. Fox begins throwing right hand after right hand into Evans’ forehead until Pat is finally forced to relinquish the hold. Arcane now kicks him off with both boots wedged to his chest.

Pat staggers backwards and ricochets off of the cables spine first. Fox nips up to his feet just as Evans charges in and takes him down with a running shoulder block. Arcane hits the canvas just as Evans leaps over him and takes off into the ropes.

He bounces from the cables as Fox jumps to his feet and gets taken down with yet another running shoulder block.

Comeau: Evans using his strength and size advantage to keep Fox grounded.

Arcane rolls to his knees and slaps the canvas in a fit. Clearly the newcomer does not like being outshined, demonstrating as much as he reaches his feet and points towards the ropes, demanding that Evans try again.

Pat nods and takes off into the cables before bouncing off and going for a third running shoulder block. This time Arcane leaps into the air though and goes for a jumping shin kick that Evans had well scouted. Pat ducks under the airborne Arcane and goes charging into the ropes behind him.

Just as Fox lands back on his feet and turns around, he’s hit with a running shoulder block that sends him flying across the canvas.

Mark: Well Fox asked for it and he got it.

Fox rolls over to his knees, looking winded while his opponent comes barging in to finish the job. That’s when Ingelson proves to be a nuisance, leaping in front of Pat and warning him yet again. Pat grabs the referee by his shirt and tosses him out of the way, but Ingelson has given Fox just enough time to recover. Arcane jumps to his feet and then leaps into the air before catching the inbound Evans with a back elbow to the chest. Both men go crashing to the canvas before Arcane pops up to his feet and rushes towards a turnbuckle.

He slips through the ropes to the apron and scales the corner to the top rope where he steadies himself. The moment that Pat reaches a vertical base, Arcane comes flying off of the turnbuckle and hitting him with a lariat.

Mark: Con Air delivered by Arcane. I’m sorry, but the less I’m reminded of that horrible Nicholas Cage movie the better.

Fox rolls across the canvas after hitting his move then goes crawling into the lateral press on his down opponent. Ingelson’s hand hits the canvas with blinding speed.

1

2

Once again Evans beats the count no matter how fast Ingelson swatted the ring.

Comeau: Dammit, can we please get a new referee out here already? It’s obvious that Ingelson is out here on Christian’s orders to help cost Evans a match.

Arcane quickly stands up and performs the Abra-Kadabra, doing a head stand then twisting around out of it into a unique leg drop variation. His thigh hits Evans’ throat and causes the technician to growl in pain. The maneuver has Evans rolling away from his opposition, trying to create some space between he and Arcane.

Mark: Despite the situation with the referee, Fox is continuing to impress me in this match.

Fox doesn’t let his opponent get far, stepping in quickly only to receive a knife edge chop. Evans proves he’s just as deadly from a kneeling base as he is standing. A red streak is left across Arcane’s chest, and he is staggered by the blow. However, he steps right back and jabs Pat across the jaw. Evans almost goes over but steadies himself and connects with yet another knife edge chop.

The crowd woos while Arcane winces. He steps back covering his chest before blocking out the pain and going for another right hand. This time his fist is blocked and Evans delivers a third chop from a standing position. The chop almost takes off one of Arcane’s nipples, forcing him to turn away from his opponent just long enough to be caught around the waist.

Evans wedges his shoulder to Fox’s spine then hoists him up into a back drop suplex position. Somehow Fox flips over though, landing on his feet behind Evans then charging into the cables. He bounces off and rushes at Evans only to walk right into a knife edge chop that connects with enough force to send him plummeting to his spine. The crowd actually grimaces at the sound of the stiff chop connecting.

Mark: We saw Jackson Adams delivering some stiff chops earlier tonight, but I think these are even stiffer. Evans wearing Arcane out with these strikes.

Although his sternum feels cracked from the chops Arcane is already sitting up on the canvas. He’s upright just long enough to be kicked square in the chest. Evans’ shin nails Fox’s sternum and knocks him right back to his spine. With Arcane laid out he’s easy pickings for Evans who goes rushing into the ropes and bouncing off. Pat charges in and leaps into the air, dropping all of his weight straight into a knee drop to Fox’s chest.

Comeau: Evans focusing his attack now on the sternum of Arcane which he’s been working over throughout this match.

Pat feels confident that he’s inflicted enough punishment to go for the pin. He hooks Fox’s leg and wedges a forearm under his jaw as Ingelson slaps the canvas, his arm moving as slow as malaises.

1

Before Ingelson can even begin swinging his arm for a second time Arcane kicks out.

Comeau: Somebody has got to do something about Ingelson. This is just getting beyond the point of ridiculous.

Pat stands up slowly and begins cracking his knuckles, eyes focused on an intimidated Ingelson. The referee backs up, careful not to make any sudden movements. He tries to imply that his shoulder is sore, hence the slow count but Evans isn’t buying it. He’s far too familiar with Alex’s shady officiating tactics.

He steps over Arcane in the process of approaching Ingelson only to have his ankle caught and to be tripped to the canvas. Pat falls to his elbows and knees, Fox standing up behind him then leaping into the air. He delivers a double stomp right between Pat’s shoulder blades, knocking him down into a face first collision with the canvas.

Pat’s head ricochets from the ring, causing him to pop back up to his knees where he’s promptly hit with a buzzsaw kick across the temple. Evans twists and collapses to the canvas with Fox dropping on top of him, hooking the leg in the process.

Alex’s shoulders issues have miraculously healed as he makes the count at Barry Allen like speed.

1

2

Evans somehow finds the strength to get his shoulder up and to do so in spite of Alex’s speedy count.

Mark: Evans again kicking out, hanging in there even as Ingelson tries to fast count him and Arcane hits those high impact kicks. Now what is Fox setting up?

Arcane stands up and wows the crowd by performing a back flip into a corkscrew moonsault. He splashes right down on top of Evans then gets back to his feet, leaps over his opponent and springs off of the nearest middle rope, hitting a no hands lionsault. He crashes down right on top of Evans and then falls into the lateral press once more.

1

2

The fast count is once more avoided by a determined Evans. Arcane finds himself frustrated by both Pat’s resiliency and the speed of the official’s counting. He makes as much known by getting up in a frightened ref’s face then turning his attention back to the banged up Evans. Pat shakes off the effects of the numerous blows he’s withstood as he tries to reach his feet.

Arcane drills him to the side of the face with a forearm shiver then takes off into the ropes. He bounces off and ducks his head, looking at first to hit a spear only to have Evans stand up, catch the inbound Arcane and throw him up into the air.

Fox somehow ends up stretched back first across Evans’ shoulder as Pat drops to his knees and hits a modified back breaker.

Mark: A nice timely counter by Evans, delivering a brutal yet beautiful back breaker.

Arcane rolls away from Evans holding his enflamed kidneys yet trying to desperately reach his feet. He gets one knee beneath and a foot planted on the canvas when Pat comes charging in. He steps off of Fox’s raised knee and hits a shinning boot right to the temple of his crafty opponent.

Both men fall to the canvas but Evans, now operating on his second wind, crawls into the cover, hooking both legs for the three. Oddly enough Ingelson’s shoulder problems start bothering him once again. He falls to the canvas and grimaces each time he moves his arm to count the three.

1

Arcane is given more than enough time to kick out before the two.

Finally Evans has reached his breaking point. He stands up and storms straight after Ingelson who wisely vacates the ring. The official rolls under the ropes to avoid being ripped apart by his employer’s former tag team partner.

Comeau: Get him Evans, get your hands on that bleached blond tart.

Alex backs as far from the ring as possible while Evans leans through the ropes continuing to threaten him with extreme, grotesque violence should be interfere once again. Ingelson is far too timid to shout back at Evans, knowing that all it takes is one word to make Pat snap.

Mark: Boy what I wouldn’t give to see Evans get his hands on Ingelson.

Evans continues threatening Ingelson up until his spidey sense starts tingling. From behind Fox is charging in looking to steal the advantage. Pat turns just in time to avoid the inbound arm of Arcane, ducking it then taking off into the ropes behind him.

Fox spins all the way around as Evans bounces from the far cables and rushes in his direction. Arcane leaps into the air suddenly and delivers a kick with one foot to Pat’s chest. The kick gives Arcane the leverage to back flip completely and land on his feet, arms outstretched to his sides in a pose. What he doesn’t realize is that all his kick did was send Evans staggering backwards into the ropes, bouncing off them once again then launching himself forward into an almost decapitating clothesline.

Fox crashes across the back of his head and neck while Evans lands beside him.

Mark: YOUCH! What a lariat from Evans to Fox.

Instead of going for the pin Pat takes a moment to rest, and his moment may be costly. Before he can even think about going for the pinfall he spots Alex Ingelson tip toeing towards the ring. The mere insinuation that Alex is re-entering the ring is enough to send Evans off. He storms towards the ropes and reaches through them, grabbing a handful of Ingelson’s hair.

Comeau: Now he’s got hold of Ingelson, and the fun can really begin.

Ingelson desperately kicks his legs and arms, trying to avoid being pulled into the ring as a thus brutalized by the unstable Evans. He grabs the apron and tries to claw at it as Evans tugs and yanks on his hair. Pat leans even further through the ropes, trying to get his arms wrapped around the official’s neck. To the delight of the crowd Evans traps Ingelson’s neck in the Time to Go to Sleep. Alex sits on the apron, locked in the submission hold with his face going purple.

Mark: The Time to Go to Sleep applied on Ingelson. Evans may be putting Alex to sleep for good.

As Evans chokes the life out of Savior’s hired official, he remains unaware of the recovering Arcane. Fox has rolled under the ropes to the apron and sluggishly reaches his feet. Once upright Fox shocks the world by leaping to the top rope, springing off and then flying through the air into another double stomp. Both feet connect to a stooped forward Evans’ spine.

Mark: DOUBLE STOMP!!

Pat groans in pain as he falls to his back across the canvas, bridging his injured spine from the canvas. Ingelson has dropped to the outside mats in the process, rubbing at his throat and gasping for air. Arcane rolls across the canvas after hitting the double stomp and his eyes transfer to the nearest turnbuckle.

Evans remains laid out in perfect position for Arcane who leaps to the middle rope of a turnbuckle, steps off the top cable and performs a spinal tap. He connects with the Codename Kitsune.

Comeau: What in the hell was that?

The fans watch with dropped jaws and wide eyes, absolutely shocked by the move they just saw Fox pull off. They are even more surprised as Arcane crawls into the cover on Evans and Ingelson re-enters the ring, making a quick count.

1

2

3

While some fans erupt with cheers, others hang their heads in sorrow.

Mark: I….I….I don’t believe it. Arcane actually did SHOCK me and the world, as he claimed he would all throughout the night. That finishing move was absolutely sick, and it was enough to put Evans away.

Fox rolls immediately out of the ring and leans over the barricade with cheek extended towards a few female fans. They are quick to put their lips to his face with an excited peck.

Comeau: Arcane with an unorthodox celebration, but if it hadn’t been for the distraction of Ingelson, he may not have been so fortunate against Evans here tonight.

Pat props himself up on his elbow, snapping out of his daze just in time to hear Arcane’s music playing in the background. Alex purposely steps into Pat’s line of sight, walking along outside of the ring with a huge grin on his face.

Mark: Like it or not, Ingelson did play a significant role in the outcome of this match, but let’s not allow that to cheapen the big win that Fox Arca….speaking of which.

Fox: Did you see that? Of course you did.

A sweaty, out of breathe Arcane returns to the announce table, standing behind it with the headset raised to his ears.

Arcane: I dazzled and devastated just like I said I would. I’ve got to be the greatest.

Mark: Alright Ali, I think you’ve made your point. Congratulations.

Inside of the ring there is no celebration, only a kneeling Evans shivering with anger. His eyes are focused sharply on the throat of Ingelson as the official continues to back up the ramp, laughing to himself.

Comeau: Well Alex looks mighty pleased with his actions here tonight.

Fox: Why should he be pleased? I did all the work in there. I SQUASHED Evans, baby.

Mark: I don’t think I’d go that far Fox, but your victory was quite impressive.

Ingelson’s grin widens as he now begins to wave goodbye to Evans from the comfort of the stage. The comfort and security of the rampway is erased the moments the lights in the building go out.

Mark: Ummmm, what’s happening now?

Fox: I guess my finishing move was so spectacular God decided that nothing else deserves to be seen by the light of day.

Comeau: I don’t think God is responsible for this Fox.

Fox: Of course not, he’s sitting right here beside you.

Finally the lights come back up and reveal an even greater mystery. Alex Ingelson has vanished, and where he was just standing a giant flaming “Z” has been left on the stage.

Mark: Whoa, whoa, whoa, what does this mean? What does this mean, Fox? Did Zero just abduct Alex Ingelson?

Fox: Who cares.

Evans glares through confused eyes at the fire shooting into the air from the stage, also wondering where Ingelson has vanished to.

WHERE IT MATTERS

Christian: I’m just saying, it would make the Mona Lisa of a card next week if we booked it.

Porno Lad: Don’t let me dissuade you, I’m just a little iffy on the logic is all.

Obviously Christian and Porno Lad are unaware of what just transpired inside of the ring as the two inch their way through the corridor. With ring gear binding to their body and their feet moving at an accelerated pace it becomes clear that their headed towards the squared circle, set to compete in a sure to be grueling tag.

Savior: Alright then, fine, FINE, what if I let you make the announcement so it looks like it was your idea?

A broad grin cracks the Prankster’s face.

Porno Lad: I LOVE IT!

He rubs his palms together anxiously.

Porno Lad: But I tell you what I love even more, putting Johnny through the ringer tonight. Oh how fun it’s going to be, I can almost feel my nipples lactating.

The crafty PL teems with joy.

Christian: Good, I could use some milk for my espresso.

Porno Lad: The thought of putting Kingdom in a first blood match was a stroke of genius….

Christian: You can think Robin for that.

Porno Lad: But the tweaks we’ve made tonight really gets my adrenaline surging. I feel like I have Connie Chung bent over a table right now with her panties in my teeth.

Christian: As disturbing a thought as that is, I couldn’t agree with you more, on the alterations, not the morbid Connie Chung fantasy. The fact that it’s now going to be Johnny Kingdom versus not just Psycho, but Psycho AND Riggs is simply….well….

Porno Lad: There really isn’t a word to describe how awesome it is.

Christian: Exactly.

Porno Lad: The real whip cream on Ali Larter’s nipples though, is the fact that we’ve made it, oh it almost makes me too excited to even say….

He grabs Christian’s shoulder and breathes to stabilize himself.

Porno Lad: I can’t wait to see Kingdom compete in a Tables Are Legal versus First Blood match, the first bout of its kind, where Johnny has to put both, BOTH, opponents through tables to win, and all they need to do is make him bleed. The simplicity of it is just….just…..beautiful.

Savior: Exactly, and I’ll tell you what’s even better than…..

Orlando: Why don’t you tell me gentlemen?

The two pause when faced with the Icon himself. Orlando Cruze, co-president of the IWC, stands shoulders raised and chest pushed out before the cunning duo.

Cruze: Seems a lot of decisions are being made without my consultation.

Christian: And why should we consult you about anything?

Porno Lad: Yeah, your pretty much just a glorified janitor, Cruze. So here….

A mop, conveniently within arm’s range, is taken from a bucket and thrown into Orlando’s hands.

Porno Lad: Why don’t you go clean up the bathroom. My toilet overflowed after I left about a ten pound shit in there.

Christian: Then when your done with that you can come clip my nostril hairs.

The mop is tossed to the floor and Orlando begins to chuckle.

Orlando: The only thing I’m going to clean up tonight, are your mistakes. As long as I’m the President of the IWC, I’m not going to stand for the shady tactics and smoky room politics that we got under Dan Douglas’ administration.

Christian: Dan always did what was right for business, Orlando, so if you stand in our way, then your not just hurting us, your hurting the fans, and your hurting this company.

Orlando: No, I’m saving it.

Savior: Oh really? How are you saving this company? By flying off to the Bermudas with your kids to go snorkeling?

Porno Lad: I can just imagine all those poor molested dolphins.

Christian: Or how about retiring from the company you claim to love so much. Seems to me if you were really all about saving this place you would be stepping into the ring defending the values and the principles you believe that this company represents.

Orlando: I’ve done that.

Savior: Yeah, and you failed. Really now, Orlando, how do you expect to stop us? How are you gonna save the company? All you can do is raise your voice and throw around a bunch of meaningless commands. I don’t think you’ve realized that we’re untouchable, that we don’t have to do a damn thing that you tell us to do.

Porno Lad: Nanner nanner NANNER ner.

Porno Lad irritates Cruze by poking his fingers to the Icon’s chest.

Christian: Face it Cruze, now that your retired, you’re useless. You can’t do anything to stop us. We will rebrand and remold this company in the image of the 5 Star Society.

Five open fingers are flashed in Cruze’s face.

Christian: Why? Because not only can we get it done back here, but we can get it done out there.

A gesture is made towards the ring.

Christian: We can actually enforce our policies. You on the other hand, you washed up hero of yesteryear, you can’t do anything but watch. Hahahaha.

Orlando lowers his head and rubs at his jaw.

Orlando: Damn…

He stomps his foot while sweeping his fist through the air.

Orlando: You guys have got me. You’ve certainly called my bluff.

The two nod, looking quite pleased with their sharp wits.

Cruze: I guess I can’t beat on you in the ring and enforce my policies. Oh well…..

His head sinks.

Orlando: Although…

His head raises.

Cruze: Being retired doesn’t necessarily mean that I still can’t just beat the shit out of both of you.

Orlando’s fist cocks back and fear strikes both the Rising Phoenix and the Original Prankster. Just as they cringe in anticipation of the blow their allies cut Cruze off. A steel pipe collides with the Icon’s upper back and sends him tumbling forward to the concrete. He falls to his knees as a furious Katelyn Parkwood and Kitty Buehler move in and put their long heels to the upper back of the President.

Katelyn: You think you can just take my title away, huh, HUH!?! We weren’t about to let you get away with stealing my belt you son of a bitch.

Once again the pipe collides with Orlando’s upper spine and now leaves him strewn across the concrete. Katelyn and Kitty continue to work him over while a chuckling Savior and Porno Lad walk around him. Porno Lad stops momentarily to glare down at the wounded and savagely assaulted Icon.

Porno Lad: To think I once craved your respect.

A snot wad is blown from his nostril down onto the President who continues to be worked over by the furious sisters.

RICK ROHL & HURSE
VS.
CHRISTIAN SAVIOR & PORNO LAD

The camera cuts back to a shocked Mark seated behind the announce table and a yawning Fox Arcane.

Mark: I can’t believe what I just witnessed. The Buehler sisters attacking the hall of famer, the President, the former multiple World Champion, Orlando Cruze. Where is security during all of this?

Fox: Probably keeping all my stalkers out of the building.

Comeau: The Five Star Society are just completely out of control.

The crowd is still stunned up until Porno Lad’s custom theme song plays over the PA system. It doesn’t take long for either the Cartel Champion, Christian Savior or Porno Lad to come sauntering through the curtains and embarking down the ramp. The pear couldn’t exude anymore arrogance if they tried, looking quite pleased with their announcement before this match and the role the Five Star Society has had in shaping tonight’s telecast. Now they look to make an even bigger statement as the two start up the steps and enter the ring where they posture for the crowd. Christian stands tall, arms outstretched to his sides with the Cartel Title hanging from his grasp. All the while Porno Lad is kneeling before him and flexing one of his biceps.

Mark: Well here they come ladies and gentlemen, two of the most reviled individuals currently amongst the IWC roster. Christian Savior, a long time source of infamy here in the IWC, and Porno Lad, the master of pranks, set to team up for the very first time and represent what has been dubbed the 5 Star Society.

Fox: I kind of like these guys already, and not just because they hang out with so many super hot chicks.

Mark: Well I don’t like them, especially the way they had Orlando Cruze jumped backstage, and the way they’re throwing around their power. Can you believe they’ve forced Kingdom into a two on one handicap match where he has to put BOTH opponents through tables in order to win?

Fox: Could have done worse, they could have put him against me. The odds on him beating me would be insurmountable.

Comeau: Wasn’t hitting AWOL with a stun gun bad enough?

Porno Lad and Christian pompously strut around the ring, looking very pepped for this match despite the way their night has gone, what with everyone coming out of the woodworks to get a piece of their new group. Their jubilation is cut short the moment that “House of the Rising Sun” plays through the PA system. The fans are absolutely rabid at the sight of Hurse stepping to the stage. However, he doesn’t seem nearly as excited as the fans. He steps to the stage, head lowered and shaking, clearly reeling from the devastating news he got backstage. Shock has been replaced by despair within the heart of the Master of Control. Like a shell he proceeds towards the ring, no semblance of emotion shinning through his cold exterior.

Mark: Hurse definitely does not look like the same man. Usually he comes out here so energetic and fired up, but after he got the news that Robin was pregnant, his attitude went straight into the toilet.

Fox: What a coincidence, I think I’ve left things in the toilet with more talent than Hurse.

Mark: I think he’s got to get his head into this match, especially if he hopes to prove Kingdom wrong, let’s not forget the pep talk the Team Leader gave him last week.

An emotionally crippled Hurse climbs up onto the apron, resting on his knee for long a second while eyes stare down to the ground. Christian whispers something into Porno Lad’s ear, cupping his mouth so that his lips can’t be read. The Prankster nods with a smile on his face and then goes rushing forward. He reaches through the ropes and grabs Hurse by the hair, forcing him into the ring.

Mark: Wait a minute, the bell hasn’t rung and Hurse’s partner isn’t out here yet. Get off of him.

Hurse swings his arms wildly, trying to free himself but there is no fire behind his punches. He is doubled right over as Porno Lad steps mounts the back of his neck and wraps both arms about his waist. Christian quickly darts across the apron and scales the nearest turnbuckle all the way to the top rope.

Comeau: What are they doing? Oh no, don’t tell me that they’re…..NO!

Before the sentence can even be finished or the ref can turn around and realize what’s happening, Hurse is suspended upside down in the arms of Porno Lad while Christian leaps from the top rope, pressing down on the heels of his opponent’s boots.

Porno Lad drops to his seat as he and Christian connect with the spike piledriver.

Mark: A spike piledriver on Hurse! Damn them, that move has been banned from many companies, including the IWC, on account of how many careers it’s ended! It may have shattered Hurse’s neck.

Fox: Oh well, can it really be considered that great of a loss?

Hurse’s body springs from the canvas like a jack in the box, ultimately crashing down across his back and looking absolutely devoid of life. The fans shower Savior and Porno Lad with boos, yet both men chuckle at the expense of the career they may have just ended. PL sits confidently on the canvas, every tooth featured in his prominent smile. Christian on the other hand swaggers through the ring, throwing both arms high above his head.

The official is down and checking on Hurse, who isn’t moving after the vile spike piledriver. He forces open Hurse’s eyelids and looks at his pupils before shaking his head, clearly not liking what he saw. The official now throws up an “X” with both arms, inferring that Hurse has suffered a serious injury and is in need of immediate medical attention.

Mark: I don’t believe this. On the same night Hurse finds out he may be a father, his career may have been ended by the Five Star Society. I hope they’re getting a stretcher out here quick.

Although they have no cause to celebrate, Porno Lad and Christian are high fiving one another then following it up with a knuckle bump.

Comeau: What the fu….. how dare they ham this up. What these two just did was beyond wrong, they broke a sacred wrestling code. It makes me sick, absolutely sick it does. What kind of human beings are Porno Lad and Christian Savior?

Fox: Very rich kind of human beings. Sometimes you have to break some necks to cash some checks.

Mark: This is just appalling, and here I thought we saw it all tonight.

Arcane: I don’t think you’ve even seen the tip of the iceberg yet.

Comeau: Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to take a commercial break, but when we come back, we’ll have an update on the condition of Hurse hopefully.

Medics can be seen sliding urgently into the ring, shinning lights in Hurse’s eyes and delicately trying to move his neck to support a brace. Rick-Rohl has also made his presence known, jumping to the apron and staring through the ropes at his injured, perhaps crippled employer.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

The Greatest Video Game Moment of All Times

RICK-ROHL & HURSE
VS.
CHRISTIAN SAVIOR & PORNO LAD
CONTINUED

The show comes back live with Hurse now mounted on top of a stretcher and being carted up the ramp. A brace is wrapped around his neck and his body remains as still as a tree trunk.

Mark: We’re back live, and ladies and gentlemen, what can I even say? Before the break we saw a horrific scene unfold….

Some brief clips begin to air, images corresponding to the injury inflicted on Hurse. The video showcases Porno Lad and Christian springing to action, attacking Hurse before the bell could sound then heaving him up into the air for the spike piledriver. The move is shown over and over again from a variety of angles in order to relay just how devastating it truly was.

Comeau: 5 Star Society ambushing Hurse and hitting him with the Spike Piledriver. They completely threw out the honor system, the code that every wrestler abides by, a code that states you don’t hit the piledriver on another competitor.

Arcane: Hurse knew what he was getting himself into, so why make such a big fuss about it?

Comeau: It’s a man’s career we’re talking about here Fox, his livelihood, and it may have just been ended by Christian and Porno Lad.

Inside of the ring Christian continues to gloat, leaning against the ropes and winking to the fans, who silently watch the procession on the rampway. Porno Lad however uses his time far more productively, he is insisting that the official raise his arm into the air to signify a 5 Star Society victory.

Rick-Rohl loyally remains at the side of his partner as he continues to be wheeled up the ramp. Although Hurse is dead to the world, Rick still preaches to him, trying to motivate the Master of Control with some inspirational phrases.

Mark: 5 Star Society has completely altered the second half of tonight’s Riot! Wasn’t it enough that they put Alex Ingelson in as the special referee, who screwed Evans out of a victory? Wasn’t it enough that they changed the main event into a Tables Are Legal versus First Blood match up? And what about what they did to Jackson Adams, putting him in a Submission Title gauntlet. Why did they have to take advantage of Hurse’s distraction and possibly cripple the man?

Fox: Maybe they just got tired of him. I get the feeling that everyone in this federation is fed up with the guy.

The stretcher is pushed through the curtains, EMTs eager to get Hurse to a hospital while his condition is still stable. For some reason Rick stops just shy of the entry way, watching the curtains sway while deep in thought.

Mark: We’ll have an update on Hurse’s condition the second we receive it here tonight. The IWC has just been like a triage hospital the past few weeks, wrestlers being carted out of here left and right. This place has turned into an absolute warzone.

Porno Lad seems to finally have referee Princeton convinced. With a heavy heart the official nods and confirms that he’s giving the victory to 5 Star Society. The grin on Porno Lad’s face only widens as he now turns towards Christian and the two yet again high five one another.

Comeau: Yeah, go ahead and celebrate as if you actually won anything here tonight.

Fox: No one should be celebrating but me. I’m the one who dazzled the fans and put the asses in the seats tonight by picking up the biggest win the world has ever seen.

The official is on the verge of motioning for the bell before Rick-Rohl unexpectedly slides into the ring. As a result the ref stops and just watches the violence ensue. Porno Lad turns and the smile is wiped off of his face thanks to the boot connecting against it.

Mark: Rick-Rohl not gonna let this match end this way. He wants to fight Christian and Porno Lad, he wants to take them out.

Although stunned, Christian reacts on instinct, rushing forward and throwing a lariat that is sidestepped. Savior’s wrist is snagged and he’s shot off into the ropes. Before he’s even fully aware of what is happening he finds himself sailing throat first into the palm of Rick-Rohl. Christian begins to gag for air as he’s hoisted high above the head of his opponent and chokeslammed forcefully into the canvas.

Mark: Chokeslam by Rick-Rohl, who is fueled by raw intensity after what just happened to his boss.

Fox: I thought he was fueled by dollars in his g-string.

Rick turns away from Christian, not even interested in going for the pin, instead he only wants his opponents to suffer. He sets his sights on the standing Porno Lad, who has just gotten his feet beneath before he turns and is taken back down with a big POUNCE. The running shoulder tackle has sent Porno Lad flying through the air, sailing into the top rope and then flipping over it sideways as he spills to the mats.

Comeau: And he turns Porno Lad inside out with that POUNCE. An intense Rick is an unstoppable Rick.

The hulking behemoth transfers his attention back towards Christian, who foolishly props himself against a turnbuckle after that that chokeslam. He’s placed perfectly for a running lariat to the throat, a blow that connects with enough force to almost burst his larynx. He doubles over as Rick immediately takes him under the arm and by the back of the head.

Savior only has time to yelp as he’s charged out of the corner and then hip tossed high into the air. Christian flips upside down then plummets from a tremendous height spine first into the ring.

Mark: I have never seen Porno Lad and Christian Savior manhandled this way.

Fox: You want to see manhandling do you? Then watch what happens after this show when I dive into a crowd of my screeching female fans.

Comeau: No thanks.

Fox: Oh come on Mark, it’ll probably be the closest you ever come to a sexual experience of your own.

Rick plants both feet into the canvas and gets into a three point stance. He waits patiently as Christian struggles to reach his feet. Although Christian is obviously in a tremendous amount of pain given the fact that he’s been tossed around like a rag doll, he still ascends to his feet. He turns just as Rick comes charging in, trying to deliver Christian’s very own finishing move, the spear.

Savior knows the precise counter to it however, sidestepping Rick’s head and trapping it in his clutches. He snaps back into a DDT, planting Rick skull first into the canvas.

Mark: You can only maintain an advantage for so long against two of IWC’s best. Yes, they are two phenomenal athletes, as much it pains me to say that, especially after what they did before this match.

Rick’s head is engulfed by both of his massive palms, trying to keep his brain from exploding out of his skull. All the while his confident opponent gets to his knees and shoots his arms out to his sides, actually taking a moment to rub his superiority in the faces of the fans.

He then goes right back into the pin, crawling on top of Rick and hooking his leg for the three count.

1

To the delight of the fans Rick actually gorilla presses Christian off of him, sending Savior’s body airborne before actually landing on his feet. Christian steps back in a state of disbelief as he watches Rick actually nip up.

Comeau: The big man showing how agile he can be and how quickly he can heal up.

Fox: He’s still not getting one of my dollar bills. They’re reserved for the many exotic dancers I know of the female variety.

Rick turns just as Christian shakes off his shock and comes charging in only to be drilled to the canvas with a high impact spinebuster. Immediately after hitting the move Rick pops back up to his feet and begins to shout discouraging words down at his opponent.

Mark: Rick dominating these two on behalf of his fallen employer.

Although Rick would love to keep gloating he has to remain aware of his surroundings, or more accurately, who may be encroaching on his surroundings. He turns just in time to catch Porno Lad re-entering the ring and leaping through the air. His bicep connects with Rick’s throat and takes both men down to the canvas.

Mark: Well timed lariat by Porno Lad, and now we’re going to see the 5 Star Society take ov…..hold that thought.

Porno Lad stands up flashing a confident grin and moving straight towards Rick only to freeze the moment that his opponent sits up on the canvas. The viewers can actually see Porno Lad’s heart in his throat. He chokes it back, cocks his fist and comes moving in for a blow. Rick gets to his knees before being drilled to the temple over and over again, Porno Lad trying to keep him down.

Despite Porno Lad’s best efforts the last thing Rick is about to do is kneel before him. He catches the inbound fist of Porno Lad before it could connect with his face one last time and begins to squeeze. Porno Lad’s face goes white as a sheet, as he repeatedly yanks at his wrist, trying to frantically to free his hand.

All the while Rick rises before him, now towering above him. Even slapping at Rick-Rohl’s hand isn’t enough to free Porno Lad’s fist who now resorts to digging into his tights looking for some money. That’s when he’s yanked forward by his wrist and hoisted into the air on both of his opponent’s palms. Rick throws him up out of the gorilla press then steps out from under him, allowing Porno Lad to come crashing down chest and stomach first into the canvas.

As Rick steps forward upon completing the move he walks right into a boot to the ribs. Christian is on top of him like a rabid animal, throwing punches, kicks, chops anything to take Rick-Rohl down. All of the blows prove ineffective however, they may have Rick staggered but he isn’t going down.

The Rising Phoenix knees him to the ribs then takes off into the ropes, bouncing off and ricocheting towards his opponent. That’s when Rick steps forward, catches Christian’s knee and back drops him incredibly high into the air. Savior catches such height that he is able to kick his legs and swing his arms a few times before finally hitting the canvas.

Fox: I think Christian got high enough to see my penthouse. I hope he waved to the half naked supermodels relaxing in my Jacuzzi.

Savior flops around reaching for his back, surprised just like his partner over the onslaught that the angry Rick-Rohl is unleashing upon them. The other founding member of the 5 Star Society stands up and shows that he’s been equally as brutalized, stumbling and staggering as he tries to maintain his footing.

He turns just in time for Rick to step in and scoop him up onto his shoulder.

Mark: We’re going to see the running powerslam once more from Rick tonight, remember earlier on he delivered this very move to Miho Miyazaki. He’s been a one man wrecking crew against the 5 Star Society here tonight.

Porno Lad screeches as he is carried forward into the running powerslam. Unfortunately he has no intention of going down quite so easily. He quickly digs his fingers into the eyes of Rick and begins raking with enough force to finally finagle his way free.

Comeau: That sneaky bastard.

Porno Lad lands on his feet behind Rick, then wedges both hands to his spine and shoves him forward. Rick is blinded by the rake of the eyes as he staggers forward straight into the Soul Survivor by Christian. Rick’s face comes down into both of Christian’s raised knees, the Cartel Champion busting out his version of the code breaker just in time to put his opponent in a precious position.

Rohl bounces off of the raised knees but somehow remains on his feet, feeding off of his adrenaline. He turns, head all shaken up, straight into the Epic Fail. Porno Lad’s spinning superkick almost cracks Rick’s jaw and sends him tumbling backwards into the canvas where Christian is prompt to slither into a pin.

Comeau: The Soul Survivor followed by the Epic Fail. It be a miracle if Rick could kick out of this.

As highly motivated as Rick was going into this match, he still lacks the inspiration to kick out of both men’s trademark moves.

1

2

3!

Almost immediately the crowd lets the Five Star Society know what they think of this victory. Clearly they are about as ill as a pregnant woman with morning sickness. If they could vomit they would direct their mouths towards the two celebrating men inside of the ring.

Comeau: Devastation by Savior and Porno Lad. I may not like how they pulled this off, but it’s a big win for them headed into Extinction.

Fox: Isn’t this normally the part where you go on and on about how this gives them momentum going into their tag match or something?

Mark: Um, yeah, normally I would, but considering that they may have ended a man’s career to win this match….

Arcane: Blah, blah, blah. If your going to keep repeating yourself at least have the liberty to be talking about me at the time.

Comeau: Believe it or not there are far more relevant topics than yourself, Fox.

Fox: Not when my name is at the top of Yahoo searches.

Both men are tired but exhilarated, pausing to give one another well deserved pats on the back. Porno Lad actually giggles gleefully, perhaps even TOO gleefully as he watches Rick-Rohl squirm across the canvas.

Mark: Rick-Rohl put on a hell of an effort but eventually it was just thwarted by that timely code breaker and then the Epic Fail.

The duo in the ring continue to celebrate, having truly ushered in the age of the Five Star Society by virtue of their victory here tonight and the destruction of Hurse. Their moment of elation comes to a screeching halt when….

WAKE UP

….hits the PA system, resulting in an almost primal reaction from the crowd. Utter joy flows through their veins as the fans pop out of their seats to their feet like jacks springing from a box. They express the same glee Porno Lad showed earlier.

Mark: Well I guess Johnny is a little more enthusiastic about getting his hands on these guys than he let on earlier.

Now Christian and Porno Lad find themselves filled with anxiety, but they try to repress their natural response. Instead of showing fear Porno Lad bulges his biceps and slaps his chest, trying to look as tough as possible even while staring down a firing squad. Christian mirrors his partner’s confidence, crouching in anticipation of the Team Leader’s arrival. Their eyes remain focused on the ramp where the curtains are swaying, but their attention would be better off watching one another’s backs. From the sea of humanity emanates the Team Leader, chair in hand and violent tendencies in store.

Mark: Kingdom just came out right beside us. He was lurking in the crowd.

Fox: Oh great and he’s got another chair. I’m sick of all these lifeless objects flying by me into the ring, and yes, I include Kingdom in that same category.

Comeau: He may beat the life out of Porno Lad and Christian by the time this is all said and done.

Before either man knows what’s up a steel chair is swung directly into Porno Lad’s upper back, almost shattering his spine upon impact. The collision sends the prankster collapsing to the canvas where he writhes in anguish. Christian turns just in time to avoid the chair flying towards his face. Kingdom’s swing comes within inches of connecting but just misses Savior’s forehead. The fortunate Christian rolls under the ropes and backs into the announce table.

Mark: Kingdom’s chair spanking Porno Lad’s backside.

Arcane: I don’t think he’s any stranger to that treatment.

Johnny turns away from Christian and goes after the dazed Porno Lad. The mischievous Prankster still has the wherewithal to roll under the ropes and escape the wrath of a vengeful Kingdom. Once he reaches the safety of the mats Porno lad erupts into a display of anger, kicking the steel barricade with all his force. Obviously this had not gone as planned, having never expected for Kingdom being the one to get the drop on him.

The crowd is absolutely relishing every second of this, foaming at the mouths at the sight of Kingdom laying Porno Lad out and now standing in the center of the ring wanting even more of the Five Star Society. The Team Leader tosses down the chair, getting rid of his weapon so that there’s nothing holding back his rivals. He does this in order to challenge them to re-enter the ring, Kingdom drawing a figurative line in the sand by dragging his finger across the canvas. He now motions for them to cross it.

Comeau: Kingdom wants both men in the ring, he’s actually challenging them both to bring it.

Fox: Although Kingdom’s head may be big, it stores a walnut sized brain.

Mark: Johnny has no fear of these two men who conspired to bring him down.

Johnny continues to motion for them to enter, the Team Leader obsessed with saving face here tonight. Porno Lad and Christian are intent on mangling that very face though, and distorting everything that it represents, hence their willingness to take Johnny up on his offer. Christian, the man who cost Kingdom the World Title, and Porno Lad, the individual behind the whole Mr. X fiasco, slowly ascend to the apron. The crowd is absolutely riveted, all of them cramming behind the barricades to be as close as possible for this moment.

Mark: Savior and PL aren’t running, they’re actually climbing into the ring with the Team Leader. We’re going to see them settle this right here tonight, to hell with Extinction, to hell with the pay-per-view.

Savior’s foot slowly begins to enter the ring, now touching the canvas as Kingdom teems with anticipation. His knuckles are clinched so tightly they could produce blood from his palms. His veins dance in his temples and his teeth grate against one another as the former World Champion prepares to shed blood. Unfortunately it may be his own blood spilt here tonight thanks to the unexpected arrival of two constant irritations to the Team Leader.

A forearm to the back of the neck has Kingdom down on all fours, Psycho standing over him. Riggs is right at his side, assisting in the mutilation of the Tag Team Champion.

Mark: Dammit, it’s an ambush. Psycho and Riggs all over Kingdom. It was an ambush backstage and now one in the ring that saves the Five Star Society.

Arcane: I take it Johnny is on nobody’s Christmas card list? I usually have to pick up mine with a forklift, since you know, there’s too many…

Mark: We get it. Johnny may not be well liked, but he doesn’t deserve this.

The lethal pear in the ring take full advantage of Kingdom’s distraction and their numbers advantage. Boot after boot connects to Kingdom’s upper back, keeping him down on the canvas. Instead of joining in on the fun, Porno Lad and Christian do nothing more than watch. With a swagger in their step, as if they did all the work themselves, the two make their way to the ramp where Porno Lad snaps his fingers. A referee emerges on the stage at his beckon call. Fitzpatrick doesn’t look happy playing the part of a stooge but he does exactly as told, rushing between Christian and Porno Lad, sliding into the ring and calling for the bell.

Comeau: What? Nooooo. You can’t be serious. Their starting the handicap, Tables Are Legal versus First Blood match now?

Fox: Hahahaha, the fun never ends for this bald monkey turd.

The moment the bell rings Psycho snaps out of his homicidal daze and turns his now conscious eyes to the two on the ramp.

Psycho: After we’re through with him, your next.

Clear by the gulp in both men’s throats neither PL or Christian take kindly to this insinuation. Rather than risking the ruination of their masterplan, they opt to head to the back in order to watch this blood letting from the safety of their office.

RIGGS & PSYCHO
VS.
JOHNNY KINGDOM
TABLES ARE LEGAL, FIRST BLOOD MATCH

The duo representing the Five Star Society have made their way to the backstage area, leaving their enemies in the ring to take out one another. Destruction does seem to be the intention of both Psycho and Riggs, who are still working over the traumatized Team Leader. Finally the struggling Kingdom reaches his feet, albeit in the arms of the Painted Warrior. Riggs holds Johnny in position as Psycho approaches the very chair that the Team Leader introduced into this equation.

Mark: If Johnny wasn’t in trouble before, now he’s pretty much doomed.

Fox: As if he wasn’t already with that haircut.

Mark: Kingdom may be busted open immediately. Remember, all Psycho and Riggs have to do is make Johnny bleed, Kingdom on the other hand has to put both of his opponents through tables in order to win this match.

Arcane: Which naturally is impossible for anyone to do besides me.

Psycho takes the chair long ways into his arm, convinced that internal injuries are the best way to produce blood. He swings the edge of the steel towards Kingdom’s ribs only for Johnny to finagle his way free seconds before disaster. The chair is driven into Riggs ribs as a result, Psycho appearing quite stunned by his miss.

Mark: The chair connects but not on Kingdom.

Pain flows through Riggs’ body as he doubles over and embraces his damaged gut, ribs possibly cracked thanks to the force of the shot. The resilient Kingdom has fallen against a set of ropes, leaning on them for support and trying to regain his faculties. A few shakes of his head have the synapses in Kingdom’s head firing once again, giving him the awareness to spot Psycho charging in, chair in hand.

Johnny instinctively falls to his back, playing dead and in the process pulling down on the top rope. Psycho’s momentum causes him to trip over Johnny’s body and go tumbling over the cables to the outside of the ring. In the process he drops the chair to the canvas, well within the reach of his opponent.

Mark: Psycho taking a nasty spill out here in front of us.

Fox: Yeah, everything about this guy is pretty nasty.

Although ailing from the many assaults Kingdom has suffered over the past few months he still has the strength to stand and prop a chair up. He puts it in a seated position then turns to an upright Riggs, who is still doubled over clasping at his mid-section. He turns just as Kingdom places him in a front chancery and drops back, DDTing him skull first into the sat up chair.

Riggs bounces off and tumbles to his back, writhing on the canvas. His opponent however is no longer faced with the same dilemma, Kingdom already upright and feeding off a rare emotion, rage. It’s his anger that compels him take off into the far ropes, bouncing from them and building momentum. Riggs has rolled to his elbows and knees just in time for a running Kingdom to step off of his back, land on the chair, leap from it to the top rope and then take flight with a crossbody that sends him crashing into Psycho’s chest. Both men collapse across the mats with the crowd sounding like a gathering of mental patients.

Mark: Spectacular finish by Kingdom, hitting a triple jump crossbody to the outside of the ring. It’s his versatility that makes him so dangerous.

Obviously all three men are hurting but Kingdom doesn’t let his pain effect him as he stands right back up and gives the crowd a quick glance. They cheer the moment his eyes settle on them. His very intense eyes transfer from the screaming crowd to the announce table. He quickly rips away the protective covering and then points straight towards the surface of the wood.

Mark: I think Johnny is going to use our table to eliminate one of his opponents. Any table counts I guess.

Fox: Oh come on, I’m using my monitor to watch myself, don’t take that away from me, it’s must see TV.

Now that the table is exposed Johnny attempts to put it to quick work. He almost purposely takes Fox’s monitor into hand, ripping it out of the surface of the wood then turning towards a recovering Psycho. The Sadistic One is only on his feet for a moment before the monitor cracks him to the back of the head. The blow rattles Psycho’s brain and sends him twisting into the announce table, falling against it until he is sprawled vertically over its surface.

Comeau: Something tells me we’re about to say bye bye to the former Cartel Champion.

Arcane: Thank God.

Johnny shows just how homicidal the past few weeks have made him as he slips into the ring and proceeds up one of the turnbuckles.

Mark: Oh gosh, oh crappolla. Kingdom is climbing one of the turnbuckles, he’s about to dive off onto Psycho through our table.

Just before Kingdom can take flight a well timed boot hits him directly to the ankle. The running kick from Riggs connected with just enough emphasis to send Kingdom toppling down from the turnbuckle and landing right on top of his head.

Comeau: That was even worse!

The head first plunge into the ring sends Johnny flipping backwards to his knees, eyes glazed over, drool seeping from the corner of his mouth. He looks positively brain dead as Riggs turns around and then gets a running start before delivering the shinning wizard. His skin nails Kingdom with just enough force to the fact to knock him to his back. Almost immediately the referee drops into position, checking Johnny’s scalp for lacerations.

Mark: Fitzpatrick checking Johnny’s head after the shinning wizard, if he’s bleeding this match is over.

Arcane: That would give me far more time to mingle with the fans, or at least fans of the hot female variety.

Comeau: Looks like it’s gonna have to wait Casanova, cause Kingdom isn’t busted open yet.

Although barely conscious, Kingdom still isn’t bleeding. This results in a guttural growl from Riggs, who grabs the chair that has played a major role in tonight’s proceedings, folds it up and places it right on top of Johnny’s head. The confident yet brooding enigma heads for the ropes, slipping through them to the apron but latching onto the top cable.

There are some very bad things going through Riggs’ mind, the X-Class Champion planning the perfect move that would not only defeat Kingdom but make him GUSH blood. He springs to the top rope and the crowd holds their breath, anticipating the end of their precious Team Leader’s career. Riggs soars through the air and stomps down with both feet only for them to connect with a chair.

Comeau: Johnny avoided a move that would not only bust him open, but probably end his career. The Five Star Society aren’t the only ones trying to take Kingdom out mind you. If Psycho and Riggs do it then they get AWOL all to themselves.

Fox: I don’t understand how so many people can stand to be around AWOL. I bumped into him in catering and he threatened to do inhuman things to my larynx. Can you imagine anything ruining this beautiful voice capable of producing both a soprano and a tenor, sometimes simultaneously.

Mark: Isn’t that pretty much impossible?

Fox: Your listening to a man who DEFIES impossibilities.

After missing Kingdom, feet still wedged on top of the chair, Riggs glances over his eyes to get an indication of his opponent’s location. Johnny, SOMEHOW, is already back on his feet and is cocking back a fist. He steps on wobbly legs towards Riggs only to walk straight into a Pele. The kick connects with such face cracking force that Kingdom is sent right back down to the ring and is immediately checked again by the official.

Comeau: Riggs with the Pele putting Johnny down. This would be a big win for Riggs headed into that scheduled Tables Are Legal match at Extinction for the World Title. If he can not only beat Johnny but make him bleed he will have MAJOR momentum going into that title bout against Cagero.

A white towel is placed to Kingdom’s forehead and then pulled away, Fitzpatrick examining it closely to check for blood. Once he has confirmed that no blood is present he allows the match to continue. Riggs wasn’t about to wait for the okay though, he’s already right back on top of Johnny with stomps to the forehead. He’s determined to be the one that busts the Team Leader wide open. Stomp after stomp connects to his chest and his face, Kingdom seemingly incapable of defending himself.

Unfortunately for the Painted Warrior the kicks aren’t drawing blood, inspiring him to employ more brutal tactics. He approaches one of the turnbuckles and begins untying the protective padding. He tosses it aside, scoops Kingdom up into his arms and places him in a half nelson.

Mark: Riggs is going to ram him into that exposed turnbuckle bolt, make him bleed and end this match.

He cocks back Kingdom’s head and swings it towards the exposed bolt only for Johnny to suddenly shoot his leg into the air, foot wedged to the top rope. He blocks the attempt to lacerate his skin with a metallic ring, and then throws a fist across his body into the ribs of his opponent. Riggs doubles over and backs away, Kingdom turning and taking him by the wrist.

He’s whipped off straight into the very weapon he created but just like Kingdom he avoids the exposed bolt. He instead steps up the turnbuckle and shows amazing agility by back flipping over onto his feet. The moment he lands however, Kingdom races in behind him and delivers a BRUTAL lariat. The full force of Kingdom’s bicep hits the back of Riggs’ neck and sends him twisting through the wind.

Mark: Ohhhhh my what a blow straight to the back of Riggs’ head. His brain may be oozing out.

Arcane: Don’t you need a brain in order for it to “ooze” out?

Riggs is stretched helplessly across the canvas and Kingdom is intent on taking advantage of the situation. He stands up and almost passes out, the nasty fall onto the top of his head coming back to haunt him. Nevertheless he shakes it off and heads out of the ring, throwing the tarp into the air and reaching under it for a table. He begins to pull it out when the back of his head is caught in the clutches of the Sadistic One. Johnny finds himself stunned as he’s charged across the mats and thrown face first right into the exposed steel turnbuckle post. He bounces off of it, his skull hitting back first into the mats with watermelon shattering impact.

Mark: Kingdom’s melon may have just been split.

Fox: Couldn’t hurt his looks.

Comeau: Is he bleeding? That’s the only concern now. The ref has got to check.

Fitzpatrick is out of the ring and get dabbing the towel to a barely conscious Kingdom’s forehead. The Tag Team Champion tries to snap out of his subdued state as the official checks for blood. However, Psycho isn’t content with waiting on the ref’s decision forever. He pushes Fitzpatrick aside and puts a boot straight to the increasingly red forehead of the Team Leader.

Blood is obviously building beneath the surface of the flesh, just aching to pour out. Psycho assists in its escape from the Team Leader’s skull, taking his opponent’s neck in hand, leading him up to his feet and then throwing him down face first into the barrier. Once again it’s Johnny’s skull that takes the full force of the impact, sending him into a tailspin.

He turns away from Psycho who rushes up behind him, wraps both hands around the back of his head and then charges his rival straight into the steel steps. Johnny’s face is forcefully introduced to steel for a third time.

Fox: Why won’t this bald son of a bitch just quit already? I’m so sick of looking at him. Although I can see my reflection in his head.

Mark: Kingdom never quits, Fox. He’s made a career out of standing up to adversity time and time again. He said that nothing will force him out of this business, not the Conspiracy and damn sure not the Five Star Society.

Fox: Yeah, but I don’t think he’ll be competing if he’s injured or brain-dead.

Mark: It’ll take putting Kingdom in a coma to keep him out of this ring.

Somehow Johnny’s face remains cut free, no blood spewing from cracks or lacerations. An intense Psycho grabs Kingdom by the throat and with all his strength throws him spine first into the barrier. Johnny’s body is warped around the steel, his back arching and his face twisting with pain.

Instead of maintaining the pressure, Psycho instead opts to approach the table Johnny was about to use to his advantage.

Psycho: You’re going to put me through THIS? Was that your plan? Huh? Doesn’t look like it’s working out for you Team Leader.

A stiff slap hits his cheek and Psycho now whispers into his ear.

Psycho: Looks like there’s no team out here for you to lead, Johnny. Looks like everyone has turned their backs on you.

He nudges Johnny’s jaw with the top of his head and then takes him around the back of the neck. The Team Leader is rolled into the squared circle while Psycho snatches the table and slips it in after him. The moment that Kingdom reaches the center of the ring, Riggs steps in and delivers the elbow drop directly to his chest.

Mark: Pressure outside of the ring and inside of it as well. There’s not much more of this that Kingdom can tolerate.

Fatigue has set in as the extent of Johnny’s injuries catch up with him and bog him down. He tries to get up but finds it impossible when Riggs digs his finger nails into his forehead, pulling the skin from both ends, trying to rip it straight down the middle of Johnny’s face.

Kingdom cries out in pain as Riggs’ nails get deeper and deeper into his flesh.

Psycho: NO…

In a perplexing act Psycho drags Riggs’ hands away from their opponent’s face and yanks him up to his feet.

Psycho: Not yet.

Riggs rips his wrists from his partner’s hands and then notices what is being gestured to. Both men turn towards the table now positioned just under a turnbuckle.

Psycho: We’re not here to beat Johnny, remember?

The Painted Warrior smirks, liking what he’s hearing. Now that he’s reminded of their true goal, he and Psycho step over the struggling Kingdom and take him under the pits. He is led up to his feet as his opponents team with anticipation.

Riggs: First the World Champion, now the Team Leader, hahaha.

The joy comes to an abrupt halt thanks to the inattentiveness of either man. They failed to realize that by mere happenstance, Kingdom had the great fortune to roll over the steel chair and keep holding onto it all the way to his feet. Therefore the moment he stands the chair finds its way straight into Riggs side.

The Painted Warrior grimaces from the pain, doubling over and wrapping his arms about his battered torso. Psycho turns the moment he hears the sound of steel hitting flesh and tastes the ice cold surface of the chair. Johnny swings with all his might, almost caving in Psycho’s skull in the process.

Mark: Kingdom has got the chair and he’s swinging like a bat out of hell.

Arcane: Nice, is that one of those down-home, Southern, Appalachian metaphors? I’m just assuming you picked it up during your daily foraging for Ned Betty booty when you come down from the mountains.

Psycho can barely stand but both legs are still planted to the canvas. Riggs’ durability is tested when he turns into the full force of a Kingdom steel chair shot. Somehow he remains upright as well, albeit staggered and swaying as if he’s on the verge of going over. Johnny twists around and with what strength he has left, puts the chair directly to Psycho’s temple, nearly taking him down.

At this point Kingdom looks towards the audience and shrugs before swinging wildly. He turns from opponent to opponent, hitting them with the chair at blinding speed. Eventually Psycho goes tumbling backwards into a turnbuckle, leaning on it for support while Riggs finally collapses to the canvas, his skull having taken too much.

Mark: Kingdom taking out both opponents and some of his frustrations with that chair. Speaking of the chair, it’s kind of been like the sixth man tonight, what with it being featured so prominently in the N.H.B title match, and now in this handicap bout.

Fox: Not to mention the fact that the chair has far more charisma than anybody I’ve run into tonight.

With the chair warped and twisted by the series of shots, Kingdom tosses his weapon of choice aside and rushes at the prone Psycho. He leaps up into the air and twists so that he comes down with the back of his elbow directly into Psycho’s face.

The strike has an already wobbly Psycho teetering on the brink of collapsing to the canvas. Kingdom now rifles off with knife edge chop after knife edge chop straight to the chest of his much bigger opponent, beginning to bruise the sternum bone and leave a bright red mark.

As Kingdom dishes out pain on Psycho, he has no idea that Riggs is upright and charging in right behind him. Kingdom turns just in time though to leap frog the inbound Riggs and cause him to travel shoulder first right into the Sadistic One’s ribcage. The spear effects both men, hurting them equally.

Mark: Cat like reflexes from Kingdom, keeping him from succumbing yet again to this two on one advantage.

Riggs grips at his shoulder and turns right into a boot to the gut, doubling him over. Kingdom wraps his arms around Riggs’ head and now backs towards the diagonal corner where the table is positioned. He stops right in front of the table, back turned towards it and hands clasped around both Riggs’ neck and his beltline.

Mark: He’s going to give Riggs the Exodus Finale through the table. This won’t win him the match but it will put away one of his opponents.

Arcane: Which at this rate should probably take till Thanksgiving.

It takes all of Kingdom’s remaining strength to hoist Riggs up and put him skull first through the table with the Brainbuster DDT. The crowd is so excited they almost burst in anticipation before watching Riggs’ feet come back down and touch the canvas. He avoids taking the impact but remains trapped in the front chancery.

Kingdom is intent on finishing him off before looking up and spotting the inbound Psycho. The Sadistic One throws a lariat that Johnny ducks, reaching out and catching Psycho around the neck then dropping back. He plants Psycho face first into the table with a downward spiral and spikes Riggs right on top of his head with a DDT in the same fluid motion.

Comeau: Two for the price of one.

Fox: I get that deal everywhere I go, especially strip clubs.

The fans are almost jumping out of their skin in excitement, watching attentively as Psycho’s face bounces off of the surface of the wood and his body collapses to the canvas. Riggs rolls across the ring and finds himself placed on the apron, leaving Kingdom and the referee the only two conscious individuals inside of the squared circle.

Johnny almost immediately tries to take advantage of Psycho’s plight by taking his wrist and sitting him up on the canvas. He wraps both arms around the big waist of his opposition and now tries to heave him up to his feet so that he can place him on top of the table and eventually put him through it.

An elbow to the eye dashes that plan though. The elbow hits with enough force to send Kingdom turning away from his opponent and staggering devoid of thought towards the ropes. He falls chest first against the top cable just as Riggs lunges through the ropes shoulder first into the Team Leader’s ribs. The team work is proving effective as Kingdom twirls about and goes stumbling in the direction of a recovered Psycho.

He walks right into the open palm of his opponent. Before he knows what’s going on Johnny is hoisted into the air and Psycho puts him spine first right through the table. The wood shatters around Johnny’s frame and effectively takes the fight out of him.

Mark: Psycho putting the Tag Team Champion right through the table. But let us remind you ladies and gentlemen that the only way Riggs and Psycho can win this is by drawing first blood, not by putting Johnny through the wood.

Fox: Which means if you were headed to the bathroom, plant your fat ass back on the sofa.

Although Johnny is dead to the world at this point, lying helplessly spread amongst planks of wood and shattered table chips, his opponents are not yet moving in for the kill. Instead Psycho is shouting out to Riggs who is still on the apron and gesturing for something to be brought into the ring. That same disturbing grin returns to Riggs’ face as he drops to the outside of the ring and lifts the tarp up into the air.

Another table is now being slid out and inside of the ring Psycho is removing something from his pocket.

Mark: What are these two doing now? Wait, he isn’t taking out what I think he is is he?

Fox: Let’s hope not, can’t I just go five minutes without being flashed?

Mark: That’s…..that’s…..LIGHTER FLUID!

The smile on the faces of the fans turns into a grimace at the sight of the match and the igniter in Psycho’s palm. The table slides under the ropes and reaches Psycho’s feet before he reaches down to take it. Official Fitzpatrick steps in and grabs Psycho’s wrist as well as his hand, trying to fight the lighter fluid out of it.

Comeau: That’s right, take it away from him before someone else ends up getting burned.

Psycho grabs Fitzpatrick’s shirt and pulls him in close so that he can hear his chilling words.

Psycho: Didn’t your friend’s plight teach you anything?

The reference to official Wright and the chokeslam Psycho gave him two weeks ago, only inspires Fitzpatrick all the more to take the weapon away from the sadist. Unfortunately for Fitzpatrick is display of authority ends with him being decked to the jaw and left lying on the canvas. Psycho stands over him, nostril snarling at the sight of yet another striped shirt laid out at his hands.

Mark: Hasn’t Psycho taken out enough of the officiating staff already? I really don’t want to have to bring the scabs in again.

The glass jaw of Fitzpatrick has been shattered, evident as he puts up no fight upon being dragged up to his feet. All the while Riggs is sliding in another table before entering himself into the ring. He now approaches the helpless Kingdom and takes him around the neck, beginning to pull him towards the already set up table.

Mark: What are these two going to do to Kingdom now, I absolutely shudder to think of the possibilities.

Fox: I tend to shudder every time I think about Kingdom too, mostly when I’m thinking about his face though.

Somehow, even after going through the wood Johnny tries to fight back, throwing a jab into the side of Riggs. The peppering blow isn’t enough to stop the Painted Warrior from pulling his adversary all the way up to his feet then rolling him on top of the table. Psycho tosses the lighter fluid and matches to his partner then yanks Fitzpatrick all the way up to his feet before stuffing his head under his seat.

Before the crowd can so much as scream Fitzpatrick is heaved up onto Psycho’s shoulders then powerbombed down right on top of Kingdom’s chest, putting both men through the table.

Mark: NOOO! Psycho and Riggs may have just ended two careers at once. These two are simply out of control.

Fitzpatrick’s whole body is shaking as he’s kicked off of Kingdom by the Painted Warrior. The official does nothing but convulse before finally spilling under the ropes to the mats, cleared from harm’s way, although the damage has already been done. Kingdom on the other hand, is now entirely at the mercy of his opponents. After a chokeslam and having someone powerbombed on top of him, Johnny has went through TWO separate tables, and yet another is waiting on him.

Psycho pulls a THIRD table up into position then nods towards his partner. Without hesitation Riggs begins to squirt the lighter fluid all over the surface of the table, dousing it in igniter and preparing to set it ablaze. Riggs turns and throws the lighter fluid out of the ring while swiping his arm through the air.

Riggs: It’s OVER!

The matchbook is symbolically raised into the air as Riggs begins to chuckle demonically.

Comeau: No, they are not going to do this. They are not going to put Johnny threw a flaming table. Enough is enough.

Fox: Their taking him out and it’s not for a steak dinner.

Mark: Psycho and Riggs came into this match with a mission to end Johnny’s career and that’s exactly what they’re about to do as disturbing as that sounds.

Johnny has rolled out of the broken chunks of wood on instinct alone, finding himself mere inches from the ropes. His arm dangles over the apron, body devoid of fight and mind vacant of thought. He has nothing left, incapable of generating offense or mounting a defense as his disturbed opponents attempt to officially conclude his career.

One individual who doesn’t want to see that happen is Simon Cagero, the World Champion showing that he does have a conscious as he rushes down the ramp. Once again he finds himself playing cheerleader, trying to devoid yet another disaster from taking place in the center of the ring. He slaps the apron beside Johnny’s face and cries out for him to snap out of it, using an endless string of profanity to convey his message.

Mark: The World Champion is out here and he’s trying to get Johnny up. He may not like the Empire, especially after what happened earlier tonight, but he doesn’t want to see Riggs succeed in any of his quests, especially the quest that culminates in the World Title match in two Sundays.

Simon barks at Johnny some more but gets no response. However, his words do get a reaction out of Riggs, the Painted Warrior catching wind of the comments and a glimpse of the Champion from the corner of his eye. Riggs tosses down the matchbook and acts on pure primal instinct, rolling out of the ring and going straight after Cagero.

Simon responds just in time as a fist careens into his face. The blow has him staggered but Simon uncoils with his own wrath, hitting blow after blow to the jaw and the temple of his nemesis.

Mark: Now Simon and Riggs going at it at ringside! These two intent on mangling one another on the eve of their World Title, Tables Are Legal showdown.

Arcane: Quit hyping it already. No one is going to care about any World Title main event unless I’m participating in it.

The fists continue to fly on the outside of the ring while Psycho grabs the matchbook and then grabs Kingdom. Johnny is placed in a front facelock and dragged across his knees towards the saturated table. Psycho could care less about what’s happening outside of the ring, realizing that his partner has things well in hand.

The only thought that consumes Psycho currently is the best way to take out the Team Leader. He keeps the kneeling Kingdom in a front chancery while lifting the matches into the air and chuckling at the expense of his impending victim.

That is until a superkick rocks him right across the jaw. Simon has stopped brawling with Riggs just long enough to slip into the ring and put the kibosh on the Sadistic One’s disturbing plan. The matchbook falls out of Psycho’s hands and he falls into the table, leaning chest first against the soaked wood.

Mark: Simon coming in and knocking Psycho’s block off with that superkick.

Psycho’s eyes are glazed over as he continues to lean against the table, trying to fight through this unexpected trauma. All the while Simon has turned his attention back to Riggs who is now on the apron. He comes rushing in to deal with him only for Riggs to reach over the ropes, catch the inbound Simon by the back of the head and pull him down throat first into the top cable.

Simon’s head bounces back and he grabs at his throat, looking quite shaken by the blow.

Mark: Ohhh, no, now Simon at the mercy of Psycho and Riggs as well. We saw this last week.

Cagero turns away from the ropes and goes staggering right into a straight punch to the face. Almost every bone in Simon’s skull is shattered by the force of Psycho’s jab that sends him crumbling to the canvas.

Comeau: Now that was a powerful punch.

Simon is on dream street, the World Champion laying on the canvas right next to the incapacitated Team Leader. Arguably the two biggest stars in the company lay side by side on the canvas thanks to Psycho and Riggs, and if that weren’t impressive enough, now the deranged duo intend on doing even more damage. Psycho grabs Simon around the head and rolls the prone World Champion over onto the table, pinning down both of his wrists while Riggs makes his way across the apron.

Mark: We’re going to see a mirror image of what happened on the last Riot! Riggs is going to put Simon through the table yet again.

Fox: I’m not surprised, another overrated World Champion gettin’ dissed.

Riggs proceeds up the turnbuckle and places one foot on the top rope, pausing for just a moment to relish in this opportunity. Although in just two short weeks he’ll have the opportunity to put Cagero through as many tables as he wants, tonight will be the perfect appetizer for that dangerous World Title match at Extinction. His hesitation proves costly however, as an unexpected figure slips into the ring to a riotous ovation from the crowd.

Mark: Are you shitting me? It’s Too Magnificent!

Too Magnificent may look like a mummy, bandages barely hiding his wounds and moving with the speed of a dried up corpse but he is still intent on taking the fight to the two men who have victimized him over the past few months. Psycho catches a glimpse of his long time rival and then releases Cagero, who rolls off of the table dropping to the canvas.

He rushes straight at Too Magnificent who is wearing some fresh bandages that are still unable to stop the blood from blowing out of the open gash in his forehead. What the Sadistic One didn’t see however, was the weapon Too Magnificent brought with him. TM introduces one old friend to another, blasting Psycho over the head with a trashcan.

Mark: He got him with the TRASHCAN! Too Magnificent has been wanting to do that for weeks and tonight he finally got a piece of Psycho.

The Sadistic One collapses slowly to the canvas, all the blows to his head tonight proving to be just too much for his body to handle. He lays sprawled across the canvas while his partner attempts to come to his aid. He jumps from the second rope and lands on top of the set up table before leaping off of it with both hands interlocked. He comes flying down towards Too Magnificent for the double axehandle only for the bloodied big man to swing the can and catch him in mid-air.

The dented up trashcan collides straight against Riggs’ inbound face, taking him down to the canvas right next to Psycho. The Manhattan Center crowd is going absolutely bananas over this heroic display from the psychotic Too Magnificent, who even after enduring so much punishment tonight was still capable of finding the strength to lay out these freaks.

Comeau: He’s nailed them both….

Fox: There’s a sentence I’ve heard quite a few times.

Mark: Nailed not in that way, Fox. I cannot believe that after being impaled with a spike, powerbombed onto chairs, and CHOKESLAMMED onto chairs, Too Magnificent had the will to come out here and save his partner. This man knows no pain.

The crowd is still going wild as Too Magnificent tosses down the trashcan and leans on the ropes for support. His adrenaline was starting to fade before he spots Simon climbing to his feet and suddenly finds inspiration. He now comes limping away from the ropes as Simon stands up, back turned towards his approaching partner. Suddenly the World Champion is spun around and shoved forcefully to the chest by the bleeding Too Magnificent.

Too Magnificent: SIMON….!!

The gimmick infringement doesn’t bother the fans who eagerly anticipate the completion of Too Magnificent’s sentence, already knowing the words about to come from his mouth.

Too Magnificent: GET THE TABLES!

Although his lawyer can expect a phone call in the morning right now Too Magnificent is in the heat of the moment. Simon nods and slips through the ropes to the outside of the ring, throwing up the tarp and eagerly reaching for some more wood.

Mark: We may be in some legal hot water but what matters right now is that Too Magnificent and Cagero are about to put these two maniacs through some wood.

The table slides into the ring and ends up right in front of Too Magnificent, who struggles to begin setting it up. Cagero slides in and assists his partner, the two of them putting the table up into position. All the while Riggs is crawling across the ring and employing the ropes to stand up, finding himself leaning against the middle cable chest first for support. His arm dangles over the cable and his eyes longingly gaze towards the stage where a familiar figure has emerged. AWOL steps through the curtains and now hovers at the edge of the ramp, Tag Title belt flung over his shoulder and street clothes adorning his frame.

Mark: It looks like AWOL is making good on his vow to help out his former protégés. This is bad, really bad. If AWOL truly is aligned with these two then you had better expect hell on earth.

Fox: Try traveling south of the Mason Dixon line if you really want to experience hell.

Comeau: I can’t believe we’re about to see it, but the confirmation has come, AWOL is here to betray his Empire teammate and take out the Motherfuckers of America.

A grin finds its way onto Riggs’ face, very pleased that AWOL has come to fulfill his promise. The Big Crazy Bastard smirks back and then steps forward. Strangely he doesn’t complete the step, his foot hovering over the stage. Riggs tilts his head and bats his eyes, wondering what he’s seeing before the truth slaps him in the face. AWOL’s boot plants itself right beside the other one, AWOL going NOWHERE.

Mark: He’s not coming to the ring. AWOL PLAYED Psycho and Riggs. He never intended to help them out.

Arcane: How wonderfully ruthless. Remind me to send AWOL a poppy-seed muffin.

The grin fades from AWOL’s face as he does nothing more than watch. Much like the fans he takes pleasure in watching Riggs being dragged away from the ropes and then drilled under the chin with an uppercut that connects with enough force to send him spiraling into a table. He falls over top of it, sprawled across just one of the set up tables. The other, covered in lighter fluid, is reserved for an equally as vile individual, Psycho. He crawls across the canvas, having no idea where he is or what he’s doing. Reality doesn’t set in until his hair is taken into the hands of the World Champion and he begins ascending to his feet.

As Too Magnificent and Cagero deal with Psycho, Johnny focuses on taking out the other part of this enigmatic duo. The hurting Kingdom crawls through the ropes and towards an apron, moving sluggishly due to all the punishment he’s endured. Nevertheless, even with cracked ribs, bruised internal organs and more bruising than a three month old apple, he ascends the turnbuckle.

Mark: What is Kingdom doing? My God, is he actually going up top?

Arcane: Let’s see if he’s still got enough left in him to fly.

Just as Kingdom begins balancing himself on the top rope, Too Magnificent picks up the matchbook. Too Mag’s reaction upon seeing them shows that he’s absolutely mesmerized, his eyes lost in thought and his body as still as a stone.

Comeau: I think Too Magnificent wants a little eye for an eye justice here tonight.

A match is ripped from the book then scraped across the back, a small flame produced, delicately wedged between two fingers. Too Magnificent is enthralled by it’s glow, watching as it slips from his hand and hits the table, sending it up into flames.

Mark: And now we have a flaming table.

Fox: First a chair riot, now a flaming table, all on my second night here in the IWC. Uhhh, I think I need to speak with my agent.

Simon pulls Psycho into position, wedging one hand to his chest. The other side of Psycho’s sternum is now engulfed in the palm of Too Magnificent. The Motherfuckers of America turn towards one another and nod without a single showing of emotion.

Just as they set up their move Kingdom comes flipping off of the top rope into a 450 splash, going through Riggs AND the table.

Mark: OOOH 450 THROUGH THE TABLE!

The crowd is going absolutely insane over the high risk dive and the satisfying splash. Johnny lies on top of Riggs, wincing in pain, having shattered his body in the process of finally putting Riggs through the table. They lay amongst the broken chunks of wood, neither man aware of what is happening on the opposite side of the ring. There Psycho is being raised into the air and hit with a double spinebuster from the Motherfuckers of America. He goes spine first into the table and is engulfed by the flames.

Comeau: OOOOH MYYYY GOOOOD!

Fox: Who let Joey Styles in the building?

Mark: Psycho…..table….flaming table.

Arcane: Just breathe.

Psycho rolls around amongst the flames, his shirt and his elbow pads smoldering. Too Magnificent and Simon Cagero stand back watching as Psycho’s skin is yet again melted away, and left charred by flame. He finally rolls out of the table and the scorching heat, finding himself laying lifeless on his side, smoke rising from the remnants of his shirt.

Comeau: What a stunning turn of events. MADNESS…absolute MADNESS. That’s all I can say about this.

Every fan in the building is upright, considering that they lost their chairs earlier in the night and the fact that they have plenty of reason to stand. Their chants drown out all the other noises in the world.

I-W-C! I-W-C!! I-W-C!!!

The chanting continues, every fan paying their respects to the breathtaking spectacle transpiring in the center of the ring where Riggs and Psycho have suffered for all of their misdeeds as of the past few weeks. AWOL watches the unholy violence in the center of the ring and doesn’t so much as blush. He shows no emotion, whether it be delight or despair. He doesn’t even react as Axl Evermore goes scurrying right past him. In the wake of this shocking turn of events the fans fail to notice Evermore until he reaches the outside mats and pounces on Fitzpatrick.

The referee is dragged to his feet under the chin and by the back of the pants then rolled into the ring. Axl now reaches under the ropes and begins slapping Fitzpatrick on the side of the face lightly in an attempt to wake him up.

Mark: Now even Axl is getting involved by waking up the referee.

Fox: Let him sleep, he’s not going to miss anything, at least not until I wrestle my next match.

Thanks to Evermore’s persistence the official finally comes out of his coma. His eyes flutter but remain open and if it weren’t for Axl’s inspirational words, Fitzpatrick never would have had the strength to get a knee under him. With both palms wedged to the canvas the broken official pieces himself together and turns to observe the sight in the ring. Once he sees Psycho laying amongst the ashes of the table and Johnny still stretched over Riggs’ obliterated mid-section, he calls for the bell.

Comeau: Axl brought Fitzpatrick back to life and the official has called for the bell! By the skin of his teeth, by virtue of a miracle, Kingdom has won this First Blood Tables Are Legal match. What an insane battle, what an amazing moment!

Johnny may be victorious but he does not seem to have to power to celebrate. Every inch of his body is hurting from ear to ear, toe to finger, elbow to knee, but he withstands the pain just long enough to raise his arm high above his head and commemorate this victory. Psycho continues to reach for his burnt flesh and growl in the process. AWOL continues to watch on without even the slightest hint of emotion. Kingdom continues to do the little celebrating that he can, now from the outside of the ring given the Empire’s tensions with the Motherfuckers of America.

Speaking of Simon Cagero and Too Magnificent they just continue to overlook the chaos that they caused, and the bodies of their victims lining the canvas.

THE GREATEST….

The chaos and commotion that erupted inside of the ring may have finally been resolved, playing out now on a wide screen television. The camera pulls away from the monitor and reveals Porno Lad standing in the interview area, arms crossed and head titled. He stares at the television mounted to the wall then slowly looks towards the camera, acting startled to see the lens so close to his face.

Porno Lad: Well I guess congratulations are in order. That little rascal Johnny Kingdom has done it again.

Porno Lad playfully slaps his open palm with the back of his hand.

Porno Lad: Seems no matter what the Five Star Society throws at him, he just keeps bouncing back. And frankly, we’re getting sick of treating him like our own personal voodoo doll. Sticking him with needles has gotten as boring as watching his matches and promos. Besides, we’re going to get plenty of him at Extinction in the ten man tag. So tonight, I’m graciously passing the buck yet again.

The smile widens.

Porno Lad: I had a brilliant epiphany earlier tonight. Something as mind blowing as Michael Ironside’s psychokenetic powers. My idea entails the booking of a match that won’t let you down, as the Empire has on so many occasions. Are you ready?

His eyes are wide and crazed, his hands wrapping around the sides of the camera and nodding it.

Porno Lad: Good….

He now pulls the lens even closer.

Porno Lad: Next week, right here on Riot! we’re going to have THE match, one that kills two birds with one stone. Not only will it break Kingdom, but it will put our hand picked World Champion through his biggest test. Next week, I can’t emphasize that enough, NEXT WEEK, it’s going to be Simon Cagero one on one with Johnny Kingdom, non-title of course. And once Johnny looses that match, he’ll have lost everything, so he’ll go slinking back to playing shuffle board on Daytona beach.

The camera is pulled towards his laughing lips.

Porno Lad: See you all next week.

The camera cuts out.

FADE TO BLACK