OPENING VIDEO PACKAGE
RIOT!
In place of the usual hype or egocentric Billy Mayne ramblings the show begins with a sequence of five pulsing stars across the screen. This pattern pulses to the sound of a heart beat that keeps getting faster and faster until a series of five explosions rock the stage. Immediately following this pyrotechnic display three figures stroll through the curtains, Porno Lad, Christian Savior and Douglas standing between them. Within seconds of the show starting the crowd is already on its feet reacting with unmitigated rage.
Billy Mayne: WELCOME to Riot! and you could not ask for a better start to the show. Because we’re about to kick things off with tag team action as the UNITED Five Star Society heads towards the ring.
Katie Steward: It’s about time that these two finally got themselves back on the same page, and just in time for this tag team match.
Mayne: I think the hatred for the Motherfuckers of America could unite anyone. Even after Porno Lad hit the Epic Fail on Christian last week and attempted to take off with the World Title belt here the two of them stand together, ready to wrestle as a tandem.
Steward: I just hope they don’t take this renewed friendship too far. I swear if I see them riding a tandem bicycle or competing in potato sack races together I’m leaving the FSS.
Douglas remains at ringside, applauding both Savior and Porno Lad as the two slip through the ropes and enter the ring. The second their eyes meet their faces twist with repulsion. Although they clearly despise one another they put aside their animosity for the greater good. To further hype their reunion the cackling Douglas steps behind the announce table, retrieving a headset and an empty chair.
Mayne: Looks like we’re going to be joined by the Chairman, Katie. This will be just like old times.
Steward: Emphasis on the word, old.
Douglas: How is the BEST announce team in the business today doing?
Douglas makes himself comfortable seated between the two of them.
Katie: Well, we WERE doing great….
Billy: But now we’re doing fantastic since you’re here. How long has it been since Dan Douglas and Billy Mayne sat side by side at the announce table?
Dan: Not long enough.
Mayne: So what brings you out here, besides having the opportunity to hobnob with the Goddess and her Minion?
Douglas: For starters, I want to have a front row seat to watch the execution of the MOUSA. PLUS, I have a major announcement regarding Paranoia VII.
Katie: Does it involve the Goddess receiving a title shot?
Dan: Erm, no, but it does involve the World Heavyweight Title. I’m making it official as of now, at Paranoia VII we are going to witness Porno Lad challenging Jason Zero for the championship.
Mayne: WOW! Talk about epic.
Steward: And Christian was fine with this?
Douglas: Of course he is. Because he knows that I’m the one in charge. I laid down the law to him last week and he’s finally falling in line.
Savior and Porno Lad continue to watch one another very closely, trust obviously an issue between them. "MOTHERFUCKERS UNITE!"
A big, booming voice comes over the speakers, as the lights on the stage start to flash, and "Uprising" by Muse starts to play
The paranoia is in bloom, the PR
The transmissions will resume
They'll try to push drugs
Keep us all dumbed down and hope that
We will never see the truth around
(So Come On)
One of the backstage hands comes falling out from the backstage, in a fright. He keeps trying to back off, but is soon followed by Too Magnificent with a trash can. Followed shortly, by Simon Cagero, trying to stop him. He has a microphone in hand.
Simon: WOAH TOO MAG!
Too Magnificent turns around to face Simon, with an intense look on his face. Simon smiles at him, as he brings the microphone to his lips.
Simon: It's time to show them.
He hands Too Magnificent the microphone, as Too Mag screams into it.
Too Magnificent: WHAT BEING A MOTHERFUCKER IS ALL ABOUT!
Too Mag drops the trash can, and hands the microphone back to Simon.
Simon: That's right ladies and gentlemen. It's time to fuck the system. It's time to show what we're all about... It's time to be a Motherfucker.
The fans go crazy upon hearing this. Simon and Too Magnificent start walking toward the ring.
They will not force us
They will stop degrading us
They will not control us
We will be victorious
Simon: Of course, taught to you by none other than the Most Wasted Motherfucker on the face of this planet.
Simon hands the microphone to The Golden Goliath
Too Mag: AND THE MOST SADISTIC MOTHERFUCKER EVER KNOWN!
They stop at the end of the ramp, as Simon pulls out another microphone.
Simon: We are...
The Cartel tron flickers to life, as Simon and Too Mag turn around. It shows the American flag. Simon and Too Mag salute the flag. Slowly, the flag starts to degrade, and crack, and suddenly, a seal is stamped onto the flag. Too Mag lifts the microphone to his lips.
Too Mag: THE MOTHERFUCKERS!
Simon: OF THE UNITED STATES
Simon & Too Mag: OF AMERICA!
Simon and Too Mag roll into the ring, and start to hype up the crowd.
Simon: Maybe one day, you'll be a motherfucker, too.
Simon and Too Mag throw their microphones away, as the music fades, and they get ready for their match.
Douglas: Tonight these two will finally pay for their transgressions against the Five Star Society. They’re going to be shown what happens to those who turn down the FSS. I must warn you though, this isn’t going to be pretty.
Katie: I already knew it wasn’t going to be with Too Mutilated competing.
Mayne: He’s gonna be a lot more mutilated after this match, Goddess.
Douglas: So true. The constant annoyance that has been the MOUSA will finally be dealt with by the UNIFIED Five Star Society.
The crowd is still energetic as to the arrival of Cagero and Too Magnificent, who spend absolutely no time strategizing in contrast to their opponents. Christian steps forward to represent his team only to be grabbed by the shoulder and spun to face the Original Prankster. Porno Lad insists that HE be the one who starts out this match.
Dan: Alright boys, hahahaha, just flip a coin or something.
Billy: Erm, Dan, they don’t look like they’re on the same page.
Dan: Just give them a little time, they’ll work out the kinks.
Now that he’s stated his case Porno Lad begins to step forward only for Christian to cut him off. The two continue to argue while their opponents glance at one another. They shrug before Too Magnificent leaps forward into a pump kick that nails Christian in the temple while Simon steps forward and clocks Porno Lad under the jaw with a superkick.
Mayne: Was that supposed to happen?
Katie: My guess would be….no!
Douglas: *Mumbles under breathe*
Douglas isn’t the only person displeased by what he’s witnessing, evident by the implosion between Christian and PL at ringside. Once the two recover enough to reach their feet both men get into a war of words, despite their swollen jaws. Before their argument can go any further Porno Lad is grabbed from behind by Cagero and Christian falls into the clutches of the Magnificent One. Too Mag drags Christian across the mats and flings him down face first into the barricade, getting just a small measure of revenge for last week.
Meanwhile Porno Lad is taken by the wrist and head, charged at the announce table and thrown straight over it. He slides across his stomach, ducks his head then flips forward, crashing across the thin protective mats.
Douglas stands up behind the table but quickly retakes his seat the moment that Cagero takes a step towards him.
Dan: Don’t make me get out of this chair again.
Mayne: You should fire him for that Douglas. You should totally fire him. He just made Porno Lad use our table as a damn slip and slide.
Steward: Although the end result looked nowhere near as fun. I’m sure it got Simon wet though.
Billy: Sick.
Christian re-enters the ring, granted it’s not by his own power. Too Magnificent slides him and then begins entering himself. He gets one foot into the ring before Christian leaps to his feet and dives into the crease of the knee. His leg is knocked out from under him and his body goes tumbling to the canvas.
Mayne: I guess this is the point where the Five Star Society’s veteran instincts kick in and we see them work over that big blond hideous tool.
Katie: Kissinger is here? Oh wait, you meant Too Monstrosity.
Dan: Okay Christian, you’ve got him down now save Porno Lad. Protect my investment.
Instead of leaping to Porno Lad’s defense Christian continues to work over the knee of his much larger opponent. With a grasp on the ankle he drags Too Mag to the center of the ring then sandwiches the leg between both his knees. He falls to the canvas with the leg still trapped before squashing it between his kneecaps. Too Magnificent sits up, grimacing from the impact, grabbing at his possibly torn ligaments.
Christian’s partner, Porno Lad, is not meeting with the same success at ringside. He’s back on his feet but only because Cagero forced him up just so he can take him by the hair and charge him into the ring. Porno Lad rolls in under the ropes with Cagero leaping to the apron and taking the top cable. He springs to the top rope, about to fly off and hit PL before spotting Christian stomping away at his partner’s leg. In mid-air he changes his flight trajectory, delivering a side kick right to the temple of the Rising Phoenix.
Mayne: Youch. That flying kick from Cagero put Savior down just when Christian was getting something going.
After delivering the kick Cagero lands on his feet and then quickly rushes into the ropes, leaping over them to the apron. He lands, still holding the top rope, and for good reason, because he uses it to launch himself over into a senton right across the ribs of Porno Lad. The crowd is going nuts as Simon rolls to the center of the ring, drops to a knee and puts his fingers to his jaw as if pondering one of life’s many great questions. All the while Too Magnificent staggers in behind him and throws both open palms above his head, unleashing a grizzly like roar.
Billy: How dare they taunt us. I’m so mad I’m urinating on myself.
Katie: I guess that’s not as bad as when you urinate in the plants at Steward Manor.
Mayne: They have to get watered somehow.
Dan: I could care less where you urinate Billy. I find what’s happening in the ring to be far more repulsive than your weak bladder.
The fans are eating this up and asking for seconds, relishing in the taunts by the MOUSA. The two finally stop showing off when the official demands that one of them vacate the ring. A fired up Too Magnificent requests that Simon let him get some much needed retribution. Therefore Cagero vacates the ring leaving TM to work over a wounded Savior.
Christian stands up looking light headed after that kick to the temple, but he still has the wherewithal to thumb Too Mag right in the eye the moment he gets within range. Too Magnificent turns away, gripping at his damaged retina right as Savior charges in behind him. That’s when the confident Christian has his ego shattered via being caught under TM’s arm, hoisted into the air and driven to the canvas with a sideslam.
Douglas: Remind me to book Too Magnificent in an endless string of matches against Hurse.
Mayne: Good lord, there’s punishment, and then there’s just abuse.
Steward: Even I wouldn’t wish that on my worse enemy, not even Sasha Drachewych.
Billy: Never, eeeeeevvveeer mention that name in my presence again. It gives me chills.
Too Magnificent reaches his feet with the crowd giving him a justly deserved ovation. The big man shows his speed matches his size, as he quickly leads Christian to his feet and over his shoulder. Savior cannot prevent being thrown across the ring with a hard scoop slam. His spine hits the ring with force and arches from the canvas. The wincing Cartel Champion turns towards Porno Lad, who is now occupying the corner.
In spite of being banged up PL reaches over the ropes and orders Christian to give him a tag. The surprisingly compliant Savior reaches out and slaps the palm.
Too Magnificent: Oh no, no, no, your not going anywhere motherfucker.
Too Magnificent isn’t about to let Christian escape, especially after he screwed him out of the Cartel Championship last week. Both hands interlock around Savior’s ankle and are used to drag him to the center of the ring. He ends up on his back before having his chest caved in with a big elbow drop.
As Too Mag unleashes his fury on the Cartel Champion, Porno Lad just watches on from the apron. He slowly, SLOOOOOWWWLLY, begins to enter the ring, in no rush to come to Christian’s aid.
Douglas: For crying out loud….DO SOMETHING Porno Lad.
Steward: I think it’s safe to assume that this isn’t going how you expected.
Douglas: If they don’t start to get on the same page I’ll….I’ll…..well I don’t know what I’ll do, but it’ll be bad. Yes, very bad.
Katie: How purposely ambiguous of you.
It may take him an eternity but Porno Lad finally gets involved, entering the ring and charging at the rising Too Magnificent. He gets a little ahead of himself though, making a costly error as he charges into the shoulder of the big man who shoots him towards the heavens with a big back body drop. Porno Lad gets high enough to see his house before ultimately splatting across the ring.
Too Magnificent steps forward slapping his chest with both palms and getting the Dearborn fans more emotional than ever. He then turns back towards Christian who is utilizing the ropes to reach his feet. He comes storming in only for Christian to side step him and take the back of his head, utilizing the big man’s own momentum to push him along through the ropes.
TM twists as he spills to the outside but ultimately ends up on his feet much to Christian’s chagrin. He leans through the ropes, going after Too Magnificent only to receive a devastating uppercut to the jaw, knocking him out on impact. He falls over the middle rope when Porno Lad comes rushing in and dives right over top of him, flipping forward into a senton pancha that connects against Too Magnificent’s shoulder and puts both men on the mats.
Mayne: HOOOOLY MOOOOLEY!
Douglas: Shoooo. I was beginning to loose faith there for a moment. But it looks like all the pieces are starting to come together.
A rousing ovation is heard from the crowd at the sight of Porno Lad’s career shortening dive, a move that caused him nearly as much grief as it did his opponent. Porno Lad begins to stand up on the outside of the ring while inside his partner does the same. Christian just gets up when Simon re-enters the ring, looking to take advantage of his prone condition.
He charges in and delivers rapid fire punches right on the jaw. The crowd unleashes a little pop for each strike that connects, discombobulating Savior to the point that he almost keels over.
Dan: Do something about this ref! What do I pay you idiots for?
Steward: It’s certainly not their looks.
Christian is seized by the wrist and shot off across the ring. Wait, no, he reverses, instead sending Simon into the far ropes. He ricochets off and Savior goes for a back elbow only to have to strike the air. Cagero ducks, goes under Christian’s arm, barrels forward and launches himself through the ropes into a suicide diving headbunt at Porno Lad. By sheer luck PL looks up, spots Cagero flying towards him and has enough time to step out of the way. He pulls him down out of the air and sends him crashing forcefully into the outside mats. Almost every bone in his body is shattered on impact.
Dan: YES! Hahahaha, alright!
Mayne: That’ll change the whole dynamic of this match. If Cagero is injured this becomes one on two, which would be fine by me.
Katie: Yes, I’m sure your accustomed to two on one situations, like whenever your in the shower at the YMCA.
Billy: Hahahaha, yeah….wait, NO!
Dan: You’ve already incriminated yourself Billy.
PL briefly looks into the ring with a red hot gaze. Obviously he’s upset that Christian let Simon slip by, nearly ending in disastrous results for their team. He turns back towards his opponents just in time to catch the inbound Too Magnificent with a drop toe hold. TM trips forward, face smashing the apron and his knees cutting out beneath him. Christian then comes charging in, dropping into a baseball slide and driving both boots right into Too Magnificent’s face, knocking him to the outside where he now lies motionless.
Douglas: Now that’s how things get done, teamwork. Just keep it up boys and you’ll reap the rewards.
Both members of the MOUSA are down and as a result the crowd has little motive to cheer. They watch with dread as Porno Lad pries Too Mag’s near comatose body from the mats and sends him rolling into the ring. Christian vacates at the referee’s behalf, allowing Porno Lad to work over their wounded opponent. PL quickly takes advantage, entering the ring then stomping away at TM’s kneecap. He then leaps into the air and drops his own knee into the side of Too Magnificent’s leg, bending it at a brutal angle.
Too Mag sits up clutching at his knee and gritting his teeth through the pain. He has no idea that Porno Lad’s boot is traveling towards his face before he tastes the heel. The stiff strike puts him on his back where he’s quickly pinned by Porno Lad, who hooks the injured leg for further advantage.
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The vengeful goliath kicks out, refusing to be bested this evening, especially after what went down the week prior.
Katie: He kicked out? Ugh. This is truly painful to watch.
Mayne: Yeah, I’m not sure how much longer I could put up with Too Magnificent’s face being on my screen.
Douglas: It won’t last too much longer at this rate.
Porno Lad grabs his rival’s ankle and drags his leg towards the ropes, placing it over the middle cable. He then springs from the bottom rope and comes down knee first into the side of Too Magnificent’s leg, once again bending it at an angle it just shouldn’t go. TM thrashes around on the canvas roaring in pain. His agony blinds him to the tag being tentatively made between Christian and Porno Lad. PL slaps Savior’s hand and Christian leaps over the ropes, twists and comes down with his seat across the side of Too Magnificent’s leg, almost bursting the joint on impact.
Too Magnificent pulls his leg back and cradles it to his body as he goes rolling across the ring to the center. Christian hones in on it like a shark drawn to blood. He rushes in, grabs the leg, drags it out over the canvas and then begins to punch the targeted knee over and over again. The jabs inflict further swelling and intensify the pain until it becomes near unbearable.
Christian then stands, grabs the ankle and yanks on it to hyperextend the muscles in his leg. That’s when he delivers a swift kick right to the stretched calf muscle, once again causing TM to roar in anguish. Christian keeps hold of the ankle and uses it to drag the wounded body of his opponent towards the corner where a tag is made.
Porno Lad and Savior share a long, intimidating stare as the Prankster enters the ring, takes the ankle and then swings around as he falls bottom first across the targeted knee.
Douglas: What did I tell you both? If these two keep working as a team there will be absolutely nobody who can stop the Five Star Society. Think about it. When their on the same page they beat the absolute best, whether it be the Empire, the MOUSA, EVERYONE!
Katie: And most importantly they do so without boring the tears out of me.
Dan: Erm, yeah, that’s the most important part.
The injured leg continues to the focal point of the Five Star Society. Porno Lad stretches it out across the ring before approaching the nearby turnbuckle. He jumps back to the second rope then launches himself off into a Bret Hart inspired forearm drop right across the kneecap. Too Magnificent’s face twists into a tight contortion as he sits up, grabbing at his knee which must be fractured at this point.
In an act of clear disrespect Porno Lad pie faces Too Magnificent and puts him on his back. He then reaches his feet and demands that the fans show him some respect, urging them to bathe the Original Prankster in praise.
Although the fans would enjoy nothing more than to see the smirk wiped off Porno Lad’s face there is nobody who can slap away the grin. Simon is still trying to pull himself up onto the apron, suffering the ramifications of his ill advised dive to the outside and Too Magnificent is unable to so much as stand let alone pulverize the Prankster.
Porno Lad finally goes in for the kill, reaching down and grabbing the leg. He tucks it under his armpit and swings around into a spinning toe hold.
Mayne: This is a classic hold. I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure it’s classic.
Porno Lad makes another full rotation, exerting pressure on the knee, ankle and foot of his adversary. He then begins a third spin, turning to face Too Magnificent and receiving a vicious punch right between the eyes. Porno Lad is knocked back a few steps. He then plants his feet and comes charging in. The number one contender bends down to grab the leg only for Too Magnificent to sit him up and clock him across the jaw.
The strike sends Porno Lad spiraling across the canvas and into the ropes where Christian makes a blind tag. Too Magnificent stands just as PL ricochets from the cables and comes stumbling back towards him. The Original Prankster thinks quick, leaping forward and drilling Too Mag right to the knee with a dropkick.
The blow echoes throughout the arena and knocks Too Magnificent to a single knee, unable to support his body weight. As his confidence surges Porno Lad rushes to his feet just in time to watch Christian swoop in and steal his thunder. He catches Too Magnificent around the neck then snaps back into a vicious DDT, planting him right on top of his skull.
Douglas: This is poetry in motion. It’s like watching Bob Ross paint a beautiful sunset.
Mayne: Never mention Bob Ross again, his afro gives me nightmares.
Katie: He puts me to sleep faster than a Johnny Kingdom match.
Christian gets to his feet and can feel his partner’s eyes locked on him. The tense gaze continues until Porno Lad bites his tongue and vacates the ring, leaving Christian to continue the onslaught on their opponent. Too Magnificent, injured leg and all is rolling into the turnbuckle, attempting to use it to reach his feet. He only gets to his seat before Christian comes rushing in, driving a knee directly to his face. He then steps back grabbing Too Magnificent’s ankle and dragging him towards the center of the ring.
He wraps an arm around the knee, trying to roll Too Magnificent over into a submission only to have the big man swat his hands away, wedge his feet to the ribs and kick him off into the turnbuckle. Now it’s Porno Lad who makes the blind tag and enters the ring in a hurry. Savior is a bit miffed as PL rushes past him and grabs the leg, lifting it up into the air. He prepares to put TM on his chest and apply the crab only for the Magnificent One to bend his knees, bring Lad close enough to catch by the throat.
Porno Lad’s tongue extends and his eyes widen as Too Magnificent sits up, on the verge of unloading with the chokeslam. Christian starts to step out of the corner only to stop, hesitating. He looks out towards the crowd with a confused expression on his face. The fans, of course, beg him not to intervene.
Mayne: Are Christian’s feet caught on something sticky? Happens to me all the time.
Katie: I’m repulsed at the thought of what sticky substance your alluding to.
Douglas: I’m repulsed by Christian’s hesitation. We discussed this backstage Savior, your PROMISED to be a team player!
Before Savior can make up his mind he’s being crushed by the body of his own teammate. From his kneeling base Too Magnificent is able to push PL by his throat spine first into Christian’s body. The two frames connect and almost tumble out of the corner as a result. Too Magnificent then falls to his elbows and knees just as Cagero wows everyone by illegally entering the ring, rushing across it and stepping off his partner’s back. He leaps right into his opponents, hitting them with a big splash that sends the crowd into a frenzy.
Douglas: That’s completely uncalled for! Remind me to fire this ref. He’s got no control over these blasted Motherfuckers!
Mayne: It’s about time you started firing these referees. They pretty much let everything go during tag matches. Their constantly letting people break the rules, like when they allow Too Magnificent’s face to be out in public.
Cagero hobbles back still clutching at his kidneys after that disgusting spill to the outside mats. He staggers right into the clutches of Too Magnificent. The big man goozles his partner by the back of the head then heaves him up into the air, before reverse chokeslamming him into a splash against both opponents once again.
The fans are given even more provocation to cheer as Simon rolls back after the splash lifting both arms high above his head. After taunting the crowd Cagero rolls to the apron, stands up and awaits the tag. Too Magnificent limps towards his partner and prepares to slap the outstretched palm. That’s before Christian steps out of the corner, taking PL by the back of the head and tights, charging him across the ring then using him as a battering ram. Porno Lad is thrown shoulder first into the crease of Too Magnificent’s injured knee, knocking his legs out from under him.
Mayne: Uhhh, was that teamwork oooooorrrr….
Douglas: It had better of been teamwork, that’s all I know.
Katie: Who cares, it was effective, and that’s all that matters.
Too Magnificent collapses to his back, hands wrapped around his surely fractured knee. He’s not the only one suffering though, Porno Lad is clutching at his shoulder, which may have been injured by his unwelcomed introduction to his opponent’s knee. He sits up looking irate at Christian who is in the process of crawling out of the ring, unable to even stand after all his body has been subjected to in this match.
PL decides to take his frustrations out on his opponent, rising to his feet, working out the kinks in his shoulder, then going straight after his sprawled out opponent. He bends down to grab the banged up knee only for Too Magnificent to shoot his good leg into the air, his shin connecting right with Porno Lad’s temple. The Original Prankster turns away from Too Magnificent, who uses this time wisely to sit up and make the tag to Cagero.
Dan: God DAMMIT!
Porno Lad shakes off the kick and turns back towards Too Magnificent, bending forward to grab his hair. That’s when Simon rushes across the apron holding the top rope, which he springs off of, flying forward and landing on PL’s back. His heels get caught under Porno Lad’s armpits as he flips him over backwards into a sunset driver. A loud pop tears through the building, especially as the official slides in and makes the count.
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2
NOOO! Porno Lad launches a shoulder clear from the canvas, leaving everyone, Cagero including in a despondent state.
Douglas: (Speaking through clinched teeth) That was entirely TOO close. I’m really starting to loose my patience here.
Steward: Might I suggest watching one of my promos? It’ll pep you right up.
Dan: The only thing I want to watch right now is Porno Lad and Christian leaving this match victorious.
Simon rolls back to his feet as does Porno Lad, both men standing up just in time to charge at one another. Cagero throws a lariat that is ducked by the number one contender, who slips around his hip, catches him by the thigh and pulls him down into the school boy. However, Cagero twists out of it, turns and drops seat first across Porno Lad’s chest, then grabs hold of the creases of his legs.
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Before Porno Lad has the opportunity to kick out Christian rushes into the ring, takes Cagero around the neck and forces him off of the pinfall. He drags Simon to the center of the ring and prepares for the Inverted DDT. That’s before Too Magnificent limps in behind him, catches Christian around the neck and delivers a straight headbunt to the back of his head. Savior collapses to the canvas then rolls under the ropes, ultimately spilling to the mats.
The hobbling big man looks proud of himself, especially as he lends a helping hand to his partner. He begins to assist Cagero back to his feet, Simon slouched over gripping at his back. Right at this point Porno Lad rushes in, rolls over Simon’s spine and delivers a shin kick right to the face of his bigger opponent.
Too Magnificent collapses to the canvas and Porno Lad drops to his feet right in front of Simon, trapping his head in a front chancery. To their shock the fans are amazed by this fluid maneuver into the DDT by Porno Lad. He drops back to complete the next chain in his sequence of moves only for Cagero to keep his feet planted on the canvas. Porno Lad collapses to his back unable to deliver the DDT and instead receiving a moonsault from the back flipping Cagero.
Simon lands on his sternum and hooks Porno Lad’s leg to a thunderous cry from the crowd.
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Porno Lad’s shoulder evades the canvas mere seconds before the Five Star Society could be defeated.
Mayne: Woooo, a kick out by Porno Lad. A rare nearfall on the 2009 Wrestler of the Year. Am I the only one sweating right now?
Douglas: You shouldn’t be. Christian and Porno Lad will pull this together, mark my words. At least they had better pull it together.
Billy: What happens if they don’t?
Dan: There might be some serious changes in store for Paranoia VII.
The action outside of the ring is getting just as chaotic as it is inside. Although Christian is trying to get away, he just cannot evade the grasp of Too Magnificent, who clubs him over the back and introduces his skull into the exposed steel turnbuckle post. Christian’s skull smacks off of it and he goes twisting to a knee across the mats. The shaken up Phoenix reaches out and begins to fill under the tarp for something. Too Magnificent is completely unaware of Christian’s search as he comes limping in. He reaches around the turnbuckle and clutches a handful of hair before a chair is driven into his kneecap.
Too Magnificent lets out a piercing roar before he tumbles to his side, clutching at his wounded, possibly fractured kneecap.
Mayne: That’s one way to get things done….
Douglas: What are you referring to? I saw nothing, nothing at all.
Billy: Oh no Goddess, I think Mr. Douglas is loosing his vision.
Katie: He’s being sarcastic you horrid….it’s not even worth my time insulting you.
Although the fans would like nothing more than to abuse Christian physically for his actions they instead settle for verbally abusing him. The Rising Phoenix still has the chair in hand as he forces himself up to his feet. Behind his back Porno Lad and Cagero are still going at it, putting everything they have into this encounter. Now Cagero is on his feet and is forcing PL up as well. Both men stand before Cagero catches PL around the neck, preparing for the Break the Silence.
Just before this move can be delivered PL counters with a surprise inside leg trip, taking the former World Champion down to the canvas. Simon rolls over backwards to his feet just as Porno Lad spins around and catches him to the jaw with the Epic Fail.
Douglas: Hahahahaha, EEEPPPIC FAIL with a bite!
Mayne: This the point in the match where I start orgasming.
Katie: Go ahead, get on with it then.
Billy: Yes, yes, ooooooh yes!
Porno Lad hobbles around Cagero, almost loosing his footing. Instead of going for the pin, in his discombobulated state, PL transfers his attention to Christian standing outside the ring with steel chair in hand.
Billy: Go for the pin Porno Lad.
Douglas: No, no, simply pinning the MOUSA isn’t good enough, not by any stretch of the imagination. Porno Lad knows what needs to be done, and that’s ANNIHILATING Simon Cagero with that chair.
With the referee’s attention diverted to the ailing Cagero, he does not witness Porno Lad’s devious plan being hatched. The number one contender leans through the ropes and reaches out, slapping Christian on the shoulder to get his attention then reaching for the chair. Almost on instinct Savior spins around and waffles Porno Lad right in the skull with the chair.
Dan: WWWWWHHHHHAAAATT!?!
Billy: That nincompoop.
Katie: Ugh, there’s that word again.
The crowd grimaces and cheers simultaneously at the sound of the chair cracking skull. Porno Lad staggers back looking completely brain dead before he finally tumbles to the canvas. Christian looks on, glancing between his partner and the dented chair in his hand. Actual remorse seems to be in his eyes as he backs away from the ring, stepping past Too Magnificent who is still clutching at his knee. All the while, inside of the ring Cagero is crawling into the cover on Porno Lad, hooking his leg with his last remaining bits of energy.
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2
Douglas: I’m gonna be sick.
Thre….NYOOOO, Porno Lad’s shoulder is off of the canvas just before the three could be counted. Simon rolls away looking flabbergasted by this decision.
Douglas: That was too close, way too friggin close. I’m not gonna let this travesty continue.
Mayne: What are you doing? What are you doing, Mr. Douglas?
Katie: Mr. Douglas? What a kiss-ass.
Douglas is out of his seat and bolting towards the ring, desperate to ensure that the Five Star Society doesn’t eat a loss here tonight. Christian on the other hand is more reserved and laid back, watching with a grin as Simon takes Porno Lad by the ears and begins forcing him to his feet. He seems to be setting him up for the Break the Silence when
Cagero turns around and suffers the Spear of Destiny. Christian finally stops sitting on his hands and does his job, entering the ring and almost splitting Simon straight down the middle with his finishing move. He then rolls away as a barely coherent Porno Lad scurries into the cover, capitalizing on Savior’s work.
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3
Mayne: Ohh halleluiah, the Five Star Society pulls it off in the end. I tell you, this match was like tearing a piece of duct tape off a hairy arm, it was just torturous.
Katie: Oh well, the FSS won, which means, in spite of what a couple of accidental chair shots would imply, that we’re all on the same page.
The loud reaction continues to shake the building as Douglas slips through the ropes and moves straight towards Savior. Christian, now occupying a corner, looks on without much in the way of emotion. He seems conflicted by what just transpired in the center of the ring, unable to determine whether he’s happy or angered. It isn’t until Douglas gets in his face that Christian finally has an emotional reaction.
Douglas: What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you realize your actions are jeopardizing everything!?!
Savior sneers and shakes his head as he begins to vacate the ring. That’s when Dan grabs him by the bicep and spins him around so that their face to face.
Dan: You need to apologize to Porno Lad and do it right now. Accident or no accident you need to tell him your sorry.
All Savior can do is scoff at the notion. He backs towards the center of the ring shaking his head, vehemently refusing to apologize.
Douglas: The Five Star Society needs to be on the same page.
Christian: I did nothing wrong, I was trying to win the damn matc….
Suddenly Porno Lad rushes in behind Christian and cracks him in the spine with the chair. Douglas leaps back with his face becoming pale white, watching as Savior drops to his knees before him.
Mayne: Nooo!
Katie: Uh-oh.
Mayne: I think Porno Lad completely misrepresented Christian’s intentions with that chair shot. This has just gone from worse to horrible!
Porno Lad trembles from his convoluted meshing of emotions. The chair dangles from his clutches, a permanent indentation of Christian’s spine left in its steel surface. It takes him a moment but Douglas finally snaps out of his shock. He steps forward, snatches the chair out of Porno Lad’s hands and throws it out of the ring.
Douglas: Have you lost your mind?
He wedges his hands to Porno Lad’s chest, desperately forcing him back across the ring.
Porno Lad: That no good hussy is trying to take me out before Paranoia! He’s trying to steal my number one contendership. Look at this blemish on my forehead, look at it!
He gestures to the welt on his scalp, caused by that unintentional (?) chair shot from Savior. Douglas tries his best to get the delusional Porno Lad under control as the two vacate the ring. Despite his best efforts he cannot calm Porno Lad who just continues his tirade.
Porno Lad: I’m not gonna let anyone steal what I worked for! Nobody’s taking away MY Paranoia.
Dan continues soothing the Original Prankster, ensuring him that nobody wants to interfere with his one on one World Title match. He has a much harder time convincing him of this when….
Christian: Ethan……hey Ethan!
The number one contender and the chairman turn simultaneously towards the ring where Christian is on his knees, leaning against the ropes, microphone in hand and anger in his eyes.
Savior: Before you go traipsing off to the back I just thought you should hear my epiphany.
Now Porno Lad is the one who scoffs.
Christian: I just remembered a certain contract that’s been sitting in my briefcase backstage. A contract that entitles me to a World Title match at any time and place of my choosing. Remember that contract Porny, well, do ya?
Porno Lad’s blood begins to boil.
Savior: And now I know the perfect place, the perfect time to use it. I’m cashing in my title rematch clause at Paranoia VII!
The whole building erupts as Porno Lad is about to blow steam out of his ears. He tries to rush towards the ring only to be held back by a desperate Douglas.
Mayne: What a bombshe….no, no, what a nuclear bomb dropped by Christian Savior. He’s enacting that World Title contract at Paranoia VII! Does that mean BOTH Christian AND Porno Lad are gonna challenge for the championship?
Steward: I don’t know. Where’s MY guaranteed title shot? I should have one. It seems like their just giving them away.
Porno Lad is trying his best to get around Douglas but continues to be restrained by the chairman. Meanwhile, inside of the ring Christian has reached his feet, still using the ropes to stand and laughing diabolically over his announcement. An announcement that drastically compromises Porno Lad’s Paranoia title ambitions.
Mayne: Christian Savior perhaps altering the course of Paranoia history, and Porno Lad is not happy about it whatsoever. He had this Paranoia title match planned for almost a solid year and then Christian just ups and…..wait, I’m getting word that something is happening backstage. Cut to the back, CUT TO THE BACK!
Katie: What he said.
ENTRY DENIED
Security: Sorry, but your not getting in. Douglas told us PERSONALLY not to let you in the building tonight.
A line of security guards form a wall between Jake Starr and the entrance to the Ford Community and Performing Arts Center. At the mere glimpse of Starr the crowd unleashes a reaction so loud it could split the earth in two. With a look of indignation on his face Jake continues to press the issue.
Starr: Your boss can stuff it or taste the flesh on my knuckles again. My championship is in there and I’m not leaving until I get it back.
Jake tries to push his way through security but they pin themselves shoulder to shoulder, forming an unbreakable barrier. With SCW Title over shoulder Jake keeps struggling.
Mayne: Jake Starr trying to get into the building, but after what he did to Douglas last week he’s not gonna set a toe on IWC soil.
Katie: Let’s hope it’s his toe and not another piece of anatomy.
Billy: Is this UNIVITED pest gonna find his way into the building, or is he gonna wise up and get lost?
Steward: I certainly wouldn’t count on him “wising up.” If he did Starr would have given me back the SCW World Title belt already.
The focused SCW Champion is fully intent on gaining entry into the building despite the roadblocks Douglas has thrown up in front of him.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
The Best of WrestleMania
RIGGS VS. JASON ZERO
After all the commotion that transpired before the commercial break the fans are just now starting to settle down. That is until their adrenaline begins to surge once again as the entrance lyrics of a familiar theme song play through the loud speakers. This music is quickly followed by the arrival of the “Painted Warrior” Riggs. With the N.H.B Championship flung over his shoulder the gothic gladiator storms the stage. He looks far more brooding and menacing than usual, walking with purpose towards the ring. The incentive behind his anger becomes clearer the moment Suzie Clover emerges through the curtains. A neck brace supports her head and ailing spine as she proceeds down the ramp, following the man who failed to protect her last week.
Mayne: Yep, we’re back, and we’re returning live with another grudge match long in the making. Riggs, that sick painted emo battles the equally as goth Jason Zero one on one.
Katie: GOTH? I don’t think Jason Zero is goth. Actually, what the hell is Jason Zero?
Billy: I don’t know? Can’t we just throw everyone into the same generic group and call an end to the day?
Katie: That certainly would make things easier.
Mayne: My sentiments exactly.
Steward: But Jason Zero still isn’t goth.
Mayne: Dammit.
As the debate wages on Riggs attempts to change the subject. He stomps across the ring, takes a mic and returns to the center where he’s joined by the pain addled Suzie.
Riggs: TOO MAGNIFICENT!
The name elicits cheers.
Riggs: Congratulations. You’ve done what very few have. You’ve ANGERED me.
The look in his eyes denotes his seriousness.
Riggs: You’ve crawled under my skin and now it won’t stop squirming.?
He digs his nails into the skin on his arm, tearing into it.
Riggs: But I’m gonna be the razor that digs you out. I don’t care how much flesh I have to cut away, how much I’ll bleed, eventually you will be PURGED!
The trembling Riggs stares past the camera, mind racing with visions of all his demonic, ghastly intentions for the Golden Goliath.
Riggs: What you did to Suzie Clover….it was….it was….
He can barely bring himself to finish his thought.
Riggs: ….it was the last time you’ll ever put your hands on her again. For every stair she toppled down I’ll take another pound from your flesh. And I’ll extract my vengeance from your body at the biggest event in all of wrestling, the ultimate stage, PARANOIA VII.
The crowd gushes with anticipation of witnessing such a guaranteed bloodbath.
Riggs: What will it take Too Magnificent? What will get you to step into the ring with me? What about this?
The No Holds Barred Title slips from his shoulder to his palm before being extended high above his head.
Riggs: That’s right Too Magnificent. I’ll put my championship on the line if it means getting you one on one at Paranoia? I’ll risk my title for the fleeting opportunity to shatter your bones and spill your blood. And there will be blood Too Mag, in fact, there’ll be buckets of it.
The fiery intensity of the Painted Warrior has the crowd convinced.
Riggs: So answer my challenge Too Magnificent, finally face me one on one and let’s end what started long, loooong ago. But if you accept under the illusion that the result will be anything different than your body mangled and warped, left in a puddle of crimson across the canvas, then you truly are delusional. Hahahaha, which, for once in my career, makes me “reality.”
His chuckles are anything but lighthearted as the microphone slips from his palm and plummets to the canvas.
Mayne: Ummm, what the fuck was that?
Katie: I think it was a challenge.
Billy: Really? I’ve never pissed my pants as the result of a challenge before. But oh well, guess Riggs wants Too Magnificent at Paranoia VII, and he wants to put that N.H.B Title on the line in the process. Should be nice seeing those two demolish one another.
Steward: Ugh, yeah right, there’s nothing nice about seeing Too Magnificent’s face, EVER.
Riggs forks his belt over the official then sets his menacing eyes on the stage where his long time rival has yet to emerge.
The lights dim and a hush comes over the audience. The titantron suddenly goes static and this static starts to form a shape that all the audience recognizes.
The audience cheers thunderously as they recognize the face of Jason Zero. The face smiles before saying.
‘The Kingdom Of Old Is Dead.
The familiar electric guitar starts playing Crush 40’s ‘Knight of the Wind’ while every single fan of the proclaimed Crusader of Chaos holds up their lighters as a trap door opens from the stage ramp.
Wooaaah, Woooooah
Slowly, a large glass orb and two metal towers rise. We can see the silhouette of a man kneeling in that orb. As the lyrics start, he slowly rises out stretching his arms at a 45 degree angle.
Hey all (Hey all)
Suddenly the two metal towers spring to life shooting bright purple and pink electricity at the orb. The man inside does not shy from this and within a few seconds the orb implodes, collapsing all around, leaving the man inside standing, exposed. To no one’s surprise, but to their delight, standing there is Jason Zero, his head to the sky, his eyes closed. Stepping to his side is Kassie Khane, holding the IWC World Title over her forearm. The two embark towards the ring and finally slip through the ropes.
The reaction for Zero shakes the Fine Arts Center to its very foundation, especially as he takes a microphone into his hand. The World Champion strides to the center of the ring with Kassie proudly watching his every step from the apron.
Steward: Speaking of faces I can’t stand looking at, here comes Jason Zero to much undeserved fanfare.
Mayne: Yes, this reaction makes me almost as sick as watching Zero walk around with that STOLEN championship. Everyone knows it belongs to Christian, or Porno Lad, or Christian, or Porno Lad or…..I’m just gonna shut up now.
Katie: Please do. I was about to put the muzzle back on you.
The crowd is standing at the sight of Zero vie a vie with his long time rival Riggs. It’s evident by the gleam in their eyes and the intensity of their expressions that there is a long history between them that finally comes to a heading here in the center of Michigan. With Kassie holding the IWC World Title belt and offering words of encouragement from outside the ring Jason makes the first move.
He and Riggs step in as the bell chimes and begin throwing wild haymakers. Riggs’ fist connects with Jason’s jaw before he responds with a knife edge chop that has the Painted Warrior staggered. He then steps in and goes for another chop only to have Riggs duck under the attempted blow. The momentum of his swing sends Jason into a full circle, turning back towards Riggs who kicks him to the gut, takes him by the back of the head and charges him across the ring.
Before his face could be introduced to the turnbuckle Jason slips free, wedges his hands to Riggs’ spine and shoves him off into the turnbuckle. The N.H.B Champion leaps into the air, lands on the middle rope and then springs off, twisting in mid-air towards Zero.
Jason wisely ducks forward to avoid the airborne Riggs only to be caught with a sunset flip taking him over onto his back.
Zero rolls through though, ending up on his feet in front of a seated opponent. With a knee-jerk reaction Jason rushes forward and goes for a running knee strike that Riggs rolls out of the way of at the last second. He then stands up and rushes in behind Zero, going for a lariat to the back of his skull. Jason turns just in time to drop back into an almost Matrix like crab stance, avoiding the lariat that sends Riggs stumbling into the ropes.
Mayne: These two trying to kill one another right from the word “go.” And here’s hoping Riggs finally accomplishes his goal for once.
Steward: That’s like asking Sasha Drachewych to not be an eyesore, it’s impossible.
Mayne: So your actually rooting for Zero in this one?
Katie: Hmmm, let’s see, what are my choices here, a man with the nose size of Mexico and a demonic emo clown. Yep, I think I’ll just sit on my hands for the rest of this match.
Billy: You can sit on my hands if you like.
Katie: Ew.
Riggs spirals around to face the bridging Zero then rushes into the perpendicular cables. He springs from the middle rope into a moonsault that threatens to shatter the World Champion’s ribcage. Jason rolls out of the way, causing Riggs to change up his trajectory, landing instead on his feet with cat like grace and agility. He staggers back after missing the moonsault and ricochets from the cables, giving him some momentum as he steam rolls towards Zero.
Jason flops to his back, gets his feet up and prepares to monkey toss Riggs. However, the Painted Warrior leaps over Jason’s feet and tucks into a roll across the canvas, ending up back on his feet. Jason then nips up just as Riggs rushes in and snatches hold of his head, charging him across the ring and driving his face directly into the top turnbuckle pad.
Mayne: It took him a while but Riggs finally got in the move he was looking for earlier. Hey, he actually DID accomplish something.
Steward: My heart just stopped beating.
The collision with the turnbuckle has Jason stumbling back, trying to shake off the effects. He grabs his forehead just as Riggs snatches him around the neck, applying a cravat. He follows this by rushing at the corner, dropping to his knees and pulling Jason down face first into the middle turnbuckle pad.
Zero’s skull bounces back and his body follows as he tumbles to the canvas. Riggs quickly leaps into the air and twists, standing on the middle rope then launching himself off into a leg drop that connects straight across Jason’s throat. Zero begins to convulse as Riggs rolls into the lateral press, leg hooked for the three.
1
Jason launches a shoulder from the canvas, the IWC World Champion REFUSING to be bested by his nemesis.
Mayne: Ugh. Jason kicks out, prolonging everyone’s agony.
Katie: For every second of a Jason Zero match an angel looses it’s wings.
Billy: You better watch out for your wings then.
Katie: Awwww….if you try another of those horrid come ons I’ll slap you in the face.
Although he’s a bit angered Riggs puts aside his rage in favor of taking Zero’s hair, using it to lead him up to his feet. Jason is up just so Riggs can take him back down with an uppercut to the jaw. Zero hits the canvas then rolls across it to his knees, falling against the ropes side first.
Riggs makes good use of his opponent’s position, rushing in and delivering a kick to the temple that sends him twisting through the cables and crashing to the outside.
The shaken Zero rolls across the mats, listening to the screams of Kassie and his adoring fans. They fuel him to make use of the barricade, painstakingly dragging himself up to his feet. He has no idea that Riggs has scaled the turnbuckle behind him and is now located on the very top rope.
If Jason knew what was waiting for him he probably wouldn’t turn around, but that’s exactly what he does. Jason looks up just as Riggs comes flying off the turnbuckle and crashing into…..the barricade. Zero stepped out of the way, causing Riggs to slam sternum first against the steel and then come staggering back into the clutches of his rival.
Without delay Jason takes him by the back of the head and throws Riggs forward into the barrier. Riggs looses his footing and flips into the steel, crashing upside down spine first against the barricade before collapsing to the mats.
Mayne: Riggs did something stupid, go figure.
Katie: That’s nothing new. It’s as stale and redundant as your commentary.
Billy: Sorry Goddess.
Steward: You should be very, VERY sorry for not keeping me entertained.
Mayne: Want me to do shadow puppets?
Katie: Want me to kick in you the testicles?
Billy: Sounds kinky.
The fans are intoxicated by the violence between these rivals, violence they’ve been waiting to see for several years now. Jason climbs up onto the apron and now waits for the N.H.B Champion to stand. It takes all his strength but Riggs employs the barricade to reach his feet and turn towards the ring just as Jason flips from the apron, crashing straight into him. Jason flips forward into a senton style pancha that connects and takes them both down to the mats.
Kassie applauds and Suzie scowls.
Zero grips at his spine as he leads Riggs up to his feet where he delivers a hard open hand palm strike to the cheek. The shot knocks Riggs towards the ring, eventually rolling into it under the cables. The IWC World Champion leaps to the apron and takes the top rope, employing it to pull himself over and stabilize his body as he lands on the middle rope of the turnbuckle before flipping back. The moonsault connects across Riggs’ sternum before Jason promptly hooks the leg.
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Riggs gets his shoulder up, preventing near defeat.
Mayne: We were way too close to seeing a Jason Zero victory.
Katie: That’s almost as unbearable as seeing a Jason Zero match.
Mayne: Or seeing Jason Zero period.
The moonsault may have done significant damage to Riggs but it also banged up Jason in the process. He stands, stooped and clutching at his ribs yet still puts the boots to his laid out rival. Riggs tries to roll away only to be snatched by the hair, forced to his feet and then shot off across the ring. Riggs twists around under his own arm though, turns to face Jason and reverses the Irish whip by pulling Zero forward into a sit out jawbreaker.
Zero’s head snaps back as he goes stumbling into the ropes and ricocheting off. He then staggers with momentum right into the clutches of his rival. Riggs catches the leg, shoots him up into the air and then drives him down face first into the canvas with a flapjack. Jason bounces from the canvas then flops to his spine, perfectly placed for his nemesis who leaps into the air and performs a standing senton bomb across his mid-section. The crowd grimaces and Jason groans but they’ve yet to see the full extent of Riggs’ rage.
He crawls to Jason’s side, applies a headlock to lift his skull from the canvas then begins to deliver a series of jabs straight to the face. The official eventually gets involved, DEMANDING that Riggs break the headlock and stop using the blatant closed fists.
Riggs isn’t very receptive of the official’s wishes. He even goes as far as to spit at the ref who recoils with disgust.
Billy: No respect shown to the referee, and why should there be? He’s just some nerd in a striped shirt who got picked on a lot in highschool so now he walks around acting like he’s in a position of authority.
Steward: Reflecting your inadequacies onto other’s I presume?
Riggs stands up, handfuls of hair clutched between his fingers. The resourceful Zero is led to his feet where he begins to stage a comeback. A right hand drills Riggs to the temple, followed by a straight shot to the jaw. Riggs is all discombobulated and shaken up, flailing his arms out to his sides as he tries to remain upright. It doesn’t help when Zero swings around and connects with a spinning back fist right to his temple.
The shot has Riggs almost losing his footing yet remaining upright. That is until Jason leaps into the air, spins around and catches him under the jaw with a leaping back heel kick. While Jason falls on his feet with the poise of a cat, Riggs lands on his back like a sack of potatoes.
Zero throws his arms up into the air to get the crowd pumping and then takes off into the far ropes. He ricochets off and then begins to cartwheel across the canvas, no doubt intending to flip out of into an impressive moonsault. What he doesn’t realize is that in the process of his cartwheel, his opponent Riggs is leaping to his feet then to the middle rope behind him.
Jason lands out of the cartwheel just as Riggs twists off of the middle rope and cracks him in the face with a flying soccer kick. The buzzsaw style strike nearly flips Zero over, putting him on his back where he’s promptly pinned by the ravenous Painted Warrior.
Mayne: That did it, please, please, please Goddess tell me that did it.
Katie: If it didn’t I’ll smack you with my tiara for getting my hopes up.
The fans are shocked by that sickening kick from Riggs and even more surprised by the ensuing pinfall.
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2
Jason’s shoulder escapes the canvas in the nick of time. Riggs sits up with a disturbing gleam in his eyes. He finally rolls to his feet and throws his arms out to his sides, already signaling for the end.
Mayne: You had better not be blowing smoke up our asses this time Riggs.
Katie: So he’s pretty much doing the same thing as you when you attempt to inflate your latest date?
Although the kick traumatized Jason, he’s still forging ahead. He gets a knee under him and begins to stand before turning right into the clutches of the ever dangerous Riggs. The Painted Warrior boots him to the ribs, hooks both arms and then drops straight back into an evenflow version of the double arm DDT. Jason’s skull hits the ring with such force that it may have shattered like an egg on impact.
The collision results in whiplash that puts Jason back on his knees before twisting to the canvas where he’s once again pinned.
Billy: That’s the move that spelt disaster for Cagero last week, will it put Zero away here tonight too? It had better. I’ve got people to do and things to see.
Katie: Don’t you mean you have to go home and see people do weird things on your computer?
Mayne: One fetish video. I get on ONE fetish video and I’m labeled a pervert.
Riggs clearly believes he has things well in hand, given the confidence in his lackadaisical cover. The official makes the count with the crowd and Kassie screaming in the background.
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2
Riggs is on the verge of celebration before Jason kicks out and once again dashes his plans.
Mayne: Goddess dammit, why must Jason be so persistently annoying?
Steward: He gets off on making the rest of us miserable obviously.
The intense Riggs reaches his feet, grabs Jason by the hair and plucks him from the canvas. Once upright Jason’s arms are hooked and Riggs snaps back into a second double arm DDT, this one connecting with even more force than the last. Jason’s head bounces back and he flops over to his spine in a very prone position. Riggs isn’t through targeting the skull, not by a long shot. He slowly rises to his feet and backs across the ring to it’s center most point. Its here that he dramatically grabs his pants leg and rolls it up past his knee to expose the steel brace that surrounds it.
Mayne: He’s gonna finish off Zero the same way he finished off Cagero last week. Now get on with it Riggs and stop showing off for Saint Crimminy’s sakes.
Katie: Although I have no clue what my Minion just said, since I’m not 83, I will agree that you need to get on with it Pennywise.
Riggs relishes this moment, one that has been long in the making. He watches as Jason sits up on the canvas, looking groggy, suffering the ill effects of two devastating DDTs. He’s perfectly positioned for Riggs, who comes barreling forward on the verge of leaping into the air. Suddenly Jason lunges to his feet, catches Riggs, elevates him high into the air, twists and brings him down with the Claim to Fame. The sky high press slams Riggs viciously spine first into the ring, sending him convulsing across the canvas.
Steward: Should have seen that coming.
Riggs arches his back from the canvas and creates some distance between himself and Zero, who is unable to follow up after avoiding the shinning wizard. He lies on his back trying to recover by shaking off those DDTs. Riggs all the while rolls to his elbows and knees, crawling towards the ropes, glaring through them right at Suzie. Without saying a word Clover knows exactly what Riggs wants. She reaches under the ring and grabs a bottle of tequila.
Mayne: I think we’re about to see another blinding or better yet, another fireball from Riggs.
Steward: As long as it melts off some of Jason’s nose I’ll have no problem with it.
She lifts the bottle to the apron, on the verge of inserting it into the ring when Kassie begins to raise hell. She screams for the official, alerting him to their plans before they can be fully set into motion. The referee spots the bottle in Suzie’s hands and demands that she get rid of it or else he’ll disqualify Riggs right here and right now.
Clover argues with the referee, refusing to fork over the alcohol while behind the official’s back Riggs is slipping something into his mouth.
Although he’s hurting, Zero has reached his feet and is now stumbling towards his crouched opposition. He grabs him by the shoulder and spins him around just as Riggs spits black mist right into Jason’s eyes.
Mayne: Ha! The bottle was just a distraction this time. He had that mist waiting in his mouth all the while.
Katie: A rare glimpse of intelligence from Riggs.
Jason turns away roaring in pain, pressing his hands to his eyes before he’s spun around and loaded up to Riggs’ shoulder. The Painted Warrior gets a running start before delivering the Hopscotch. The Michinoku Driver plants Jason violently on the back of his head, causing him to pop up to his seat looking quite brain dead. As the black spray leaks down his face Jason falls to his back where Riggs hooks both legs and closes in on victory.
Mayne: Finally the agony is going to be over.
Katie: Don’t jinx us again.
The fans are squealing as the official turns around and spots the pin, provoking him to drop down and make the count.
1
2
Billy: Say goodnight…
thre….
NO! Jason Zero has launched a shoulder free from the ring and has staved off defeat yet again.
Mayne: Dammit to all hell and back again. Why must Jason keep tormenting us like this?
Steward: I’m so disgusted I don’t even want to bother coming up with something cruel yet clever to say.
Riggs sits up clutching at his hair, on the verge of ripping out large clumps. He was so close to defeating his rival only for Jason to once again allude him. He slaps the ring with both palms and then glares at Suzie, instructing her almost telepathically. She leaps to the apron with bottle in hand, creating a huge fuss to once again distract the official. The referee has no other alternative but to cut her off before she can get into the ring.
With his back turned Riggs once again reaches into his pocket of tricks. This time he grabs a railroad spike, slipping it between his fingers and then crouching in anticipation. With his free hand he urges Jason to get up, gesturing for him to rise so that he can rip his flesh with the sharpened weapon.
Zero is beginning to stand, wiping the mist out of his eyes in the process, having no idea what is waiting for him.
Billy: For being part of a group that bases itself around straight up wrestling, Riggs sure is cheating a lot to get the win.
Katie: He’s making an exception in this case. Everyone is allowed to cheat against Zero, it’s the only way to make your matches against him fun.
Suzie and the ref continue to jaw-jack before her ankles are grabbed and her feet are ripped out from under her. She falls to her feet and whips around to face Kassie Khane.
Mayne: I think Jason’s manager just got a little too big for her panties.
Steward: Not true, I heard she wears granny panties.
Kassie does not hesitate to shoot off from the mouth, verbally skewering Suzie for her actions. As Clover grips at her braced neck and listens to this verbal onslaught she finally loses her cool. She drops the bottle, reaches out, grabs Kassie’s hair and uses it to whip her down to the mats.
Billy: Suzie just put Kassie right on her ass. It’s about time someone did it.
Kassie grips at the back of her neck, wincing in pain while the menacing Clover stands above her, looking ever so intense. She now reaches down and grabs the bottle, prepared to use it before her attention skews towards the rampway where a hobbling Too Magnificent now stands.
Mayne: Uhhhh, I think Too Magnificent is coming out to finish what he started last week.
Katie: Making me vomit?
Billy: No, taking out Suzie Clover.
Suzie looks up just in time to spot the inbound Too Magnificent, prompting her to drop the tequila bottle and panic. She is no condition to defend herself given her present physical condition, hence why she leaps over the barricade, taking off through the crowd. Too Magnificent follows right behind, stepping over the barrier and following. He nips at her heels despite suffering some issues with his leg.
Steward: This is like the scene from a monster movie, and wouldn’t you know it, Too Mangled doesn’t even need to wear make up.
Billy: Too Magnificent pursing Suzie through the crowd, run, RUN!
Riggs’ attention diverts from his ailing opponent to his precious Suzie’s calamity. His eyes veer to the crowd where a smiling Too Magnificent pauses to look back at him. Too Mag then continues his pursuit of Suzie. Riggs drops the spike and begins to shout at TM, threatening him. In the process he drops his guard against Zero, who quickly takes advantage.
Riggs spins around just as Jason takes him down with the Chaos Theory. The STO connects with enough force to put Riggs almost through the ring, but Zero isn’t through yet. He immediately rolls across the ring and under the ropes, rising to his feet on the apron. He brushes the mist out of his eyes and then springs to the top rope and flips through the air with a springboard 450 splash connecting right across Riggs’ mid-section. The World Champion hooks Riggs’ leg as the crowd erupts with a wave of utter elation.
1
2
3
Mayne: My heart mourns yet another Jason Zero victory.
Katie: It feels like we should be wearing black right now. Although it be entirely too emo.
The crowd gives Jason a well deserved standing ovation for his hard fought victory here this evening. After enduring a grueling campaign and overcoming numerous obstacles Jason stands with arm raised aloft, symbolizing his win. Kassie climbs to the apron, holding her neck periodically in between clapping her hands.
Mayne: The match years in the making ends ever so anticlimactically with Zero’s victory. I don’t think I could possibly be anymore apathetic.
Katie: Try harder, cause your nowhere near as apathetic as I am right now.
In the midst of this celebration Riggs is rolling under the ropes and leaping the barricade. Traumatized body and all Riggs staggers through the crowd to stop Too Magnificent before there can be a repeat of last week’s grizzly incident.
Instead of simply savoring this emotional victory Zero requests the use of a microphone.
THE CHALLENGE
Mayne: Oh wonderful. As if hearing Riggs talk before the match wasn’t bad enough, now we have to listen to Zero too? This night just keeps getting more and more offensive to my ears.
With microphone in hand and the IWC World Title belt thrust over his shoulder Zero stumbles to the center of the ring.
Zero: Hey, hey boys in the production truck, I know you can hear me, don’t play dumb. I want you to patch me through to those morons restraining Jake Starr. Come on, DO IT!
Kassie looks on in confusion, unclear what Zero’s motives are.
Mayne: What’s he doing?
Katie: As if you’re not going to find out the answer in five seconds anyway. Just shut up and listen.
As ordered the Cartel-tron lights up with images of the security guards positioned at the entrance to the building. They are still forming a line in front of the highly disgruntled Starr, continuing to prevent his entry.
Jason: Hey, hey stooges, I know you can hear me. Now listen!
The security guards begin to look over their shoulders in confusion before they spot the camera and microphone jutting out from its side. The mic gives them a live feed of Jason’s every word uttered in the ring. Starr’s brow arches, sharing in their befuddlement.
Zero: Yeah, yeah, you have orders from the almighty Dan Douglas to keep Starr out of the building seeing as he gave the boss a love tap last week, but you needn’t worry about the chairman. No, because see, all Dan can do is fire you. Me on the other hand, I can hunt each and everyone of you down and make your lives living hells. Just look at what I’ve done to my own brother. He’s blood and I’ve made him miserable, so just imagine what I can do to strangers like you.
Some of the guards noticeably gulp.
Jason: If you would like to avoid a Jason Zero house call you’ll part the sea and let Jake Starr through.
The fans erupt at the prospect of seeing the SCW World Champion entering the building.
Zero: I said let ‘em through! He and I have some business we need to discuss here and now.
The security guards exchange glances before they tentatively step aside, allowing Starr to pass. Jake sneers at the stooges before making his way down the corridor.
Jason: Jake, feel free to make your way down that ramp and into this ring. We’ve got to settle this, and settle it here tonight.
As the camera follows Jake into the gorilla position the excitement in the building begins to build. Heart beats are racing, adrenaline is surging and it all builds to the live appearance of Starr on an IWC telecast. He makes his way through the curtains and takes in the rabid reception from the crowd. Although some of the staunch IWC loyalists heckle the SCW star, many are reeling from the sheer shock of seeing him in the building.
Mayne: This is such a disgrace, such an absolute disgrace, seeing SCW’s Starr in our building. Does Zero or Jake have no class whatsoever?
Katie: Starr doesn’t deserve to be here and he’s not welcomed either. He’s not like me, he doesn’t have universal appeal. I’m adored everywhere I go.
Zero: Excellent, excellent, now enter this ring and let’s chat shall we?
Starr smirks as he moves up the steps and pauses on the apron. He glances over his back, making sure that there is no Porno Lad waiting to pounce on him like last week. Once he’s assured that the coast is clear Starr slips through the ropes, repositions the SCW Championship over his shoulder and then approaches Zero. The fans find themselves drooling over the visual of the IWC and SCW Champions standing face to face, both of their respective title belts dawning their shoulders.
Jason: Jake, rather you want to admit it or not, the two of us have a lot in common.
Starr almost scoffs at the notion.
Zero: For starters, we’re two of the absolute greatest to ever lace up a pear of wrestling boots.
He stops scoffing and starts nodding, yet adds a little caveat.
Starr: Your partially right.
Jason: We have wrestling in our blood, competition is what drives us. We need challenges, finding the highest mountain then climbing it is what keeps us going. We HAVE to keep testing ourselves, otherwise it opens up room for doubt. And doubt, is something we CANNOT afford.
Jake shrugs.
Zero: I’ve been living with doubt hanging above my head ever since 2 For 1 Special, ever since all this World title ambiguity ensued….
Jason taps the gold plate of his title belt.
Jason: And I just can’t stand it any longer. I just can’t tolerate anyone thinking that a disrespectful, adolescent such as yourself is better than me.
The whole tone of the conversation changes with Starr smirking all the wider and Zero becoming even more serious than before.
Zero: Yes, as I said before you are one of the best wrestlers in the HISTORY of this sport, otherwise you wouldn’t be standing here tonight with that SCW Championship over your shoulder. Although, one could argue that the only reason your holding that belt is because I intervened at Retribution and kept Oleska Drachewych from screwing you out of the championship….
An obligatory “oooooh” can be heard from the audience. Starr simply laughs off the insinuation.
Jason: And yet, instead of showing me gratitude, instead of showing me the same respect that I’ve shown you, you tossed me out of the ring in Shawn Michaels inspired fashion so you could have your moment in the spotlight. I actually thought you were better than that, Starr.
Again, all that Jake can do is shrug.
Zero: But in spite of your short comings as a man nothing can take away from your skill as a wrestler. And it’s because of that skill you stand here today in an IWC ring before me ready to hear a challenge.
Jake suddenly takes interest.
Jason: Yes, your talented, but your not better than me, Jake, no, not at all. I’m not about to let anyone go on thinking that you are better than me, and worse yet, that you deserve to hold THIS championship….
The IWC title is raised above his head to much fanfare.
Zero:…..more than I do. So I say to hell with all the doubt, to hell with all the ambiguity, the hell with Christian Savior or Porno Lad. If there’s one man I NEED to, no, I HAVE to beat at Paranoia VII, it’s YOU!
He digs his finger into Jake’s chest.
Jason: If I’m going to prove I am the best and that I am THE IWC Champion, then I’ve got to pin you in the center of this ring. It’s the only way to remove any doubt, and it gives me yet another mountain to climb. So what say you Jake Starr? Are you going to accept? Are you going to face me one on one at Paranoia VII, champion versus champion? Do you want to silence the naysayers and prove who truly deserves to hold this title? This is the only way to do it Jake. If you want this belt then pin ME at Paranoia VII and earn it.
The crowd is frothing at the mouths in anticipation of an answer. Instead of simply blurting out a response Jake takes a moment to mull over his decision. He steps back across the ring into one of the turnbuckles, leaning against it with a sly grin on his face. The SCW Champion runs his palm through his stubble then over the plate of his title belt, purposely building anticipation. Finally, with the crowd at a fevered pitch, Jake steps forward and takes the microphone from Jason’s hand.
Jake: You and I, one on one, Paranoia VII, IWC World Championship, MY belt on the line?....
He takes one last second to overlook the crowd before providing an emphatic response.
Starr: You’ve got it.
The building rumbles with riotous fanfare. The prospect of seeing Jake Starr and Jason Zero finally square off one on one in a match that transcends company lines, that rises above the industry has everyone, even the most staunch pragmatist excited.
Jake: But don’t delude yourself, Jason. That championship is only sitting on your shoulder right now because I’m ALLOWING it to. After Paranoia VII, after you’ve fallen to the Czar of the Five Star, I WILL prove to all the doubters who the TRUE Champion is.
Starr drops the mic and thrusts his palm into Zero’s, forcefully shaking it before leaving the ring. Jason watches him depart without even the slightest trace of emotion on his face. With adrenaline surging Starr vacates the ring and pauses on the ramp, looking back one last time at the man he’s set to face at Paranoia VII, and the belt that rests over his shoulder.
A GOOD PLAN
Robin: Ahhhh…..
The Black Widow kicks back in the lap of luxury. Her feet are placed on a pillow positioned upon a table in the center of the Five Star Society dressing room. She leans back on the sofa, stretching out and relaxing with a bowl of grapes balanced on her pregnant tummy.
Brooks: I tell you, Paris, there’s nothing better than a good plan coming together.
She grabs a grape and tosses it into her mouth. Paris Dannon, busy reading a magazine on the sofa beside her, grunts and nods.
Robin: I’ve played Steven right into the palm of my hand….
Paris finally looks up from the magazine to respond.
Paris: So you gave him a hand-job?
The conclusion almost makes Robin choke on her half eaten grape.
Brooks: NO! You’ve been hanging out with Porno Lad too long.
She tosses a grape playfully at Paris who uses the magazine as a shield to protect herself.
Brooks: I’m just saying I have Steven wrapped around my finger. After my brilliant performance last week he’s fully convinced. I mean, he’s ready to go out there tonight and maim his own tag team partner just because I told him too. That’s control.
Paris: Yep.
Robin: And he’s so fired u, I think he’ll actually beat….no….END, Rick-Rohl once and for all tonight, then I’ll never have to worry about him getting in Steven’s ear ever again.
She chuckles while forcing a few more grapes into her mouth.
Hurse: Robin, ROBIN…..it’s almost time.
Into the room rushes Steven, who drops to the side of the Black Widow, falling to his knees. His eyes look bloodshot, dark circles hanging around them as if he hasn’t slept in days.
Brooks: For what?
Hurse: For me to finally cripple that manipulative son of a bitch, Rick-Rohl. I can’t believe I actually trusted that Gene Snitsky baby killing bastard. I have to take him out now, at least before he can annoy us all with his foot fetish.
Robin: And you will, like you should have ages ago, way before he ever had the chance to threaten our baby.
The guilt trip is succeeding, making Hurse all the more enraged and determined to please the Black Widow.
Hurse: I will. I’ll mangle anyone who tries to ruin our perfect family. No one is ever gonna lay a finger on you again and no one is EVAH gonna hurt my child by proxy. You just sit back, relax, and watch as I avenge you, as I make up for not taking Rick out before any of this could have happened.
He takes deep breathes, looking as if he’s spiraling completely out of control. Robin is almost at a loss for words, growing concerned over the monster she’s created.
Robin: Uhhh, good. Go do that.
Hurse: I will, and I’ll finally make you happy.
Out the door Hurse races, eager for revenge against his bodyguard/tag partner. The wide eyed Brooks watches him leave, having trouble swallowing her half chewed grape.
Paris: I hope you are in control of him, Robin.
Brooks scowls towards Dannon, who had the audacity to utter the very thought that had just been plaguing the Black Widow. Before she can respond the door to the dressing room flies open and in peeks BFG, cutting short the conversation.
BFG: We got a problem.
The ladies look up from the sofa with dread.
Brooks: What kind of problem?
BFG: A big one. You know that doctor of yours, Dr. Holmes?
Robin: Yeah, where is he? He was supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago to help me fake some pregnancy distress to get Steven even more fired up.
The out of breathe BFG cuts her off.
BFG: He’s here….
Robin shrugs and looks around.
Brooks: Well then, where is he?
BFG: I mean, his car is here…
Robin: Then bring him in.
BFG: No, no, no, his car is here, but we can’t find him anywhere.
Brooks: What do you mean?
BFG: I mean, he’s missin’. His trunk and his car door were wide open but he was nowhere in sight when we found his car.
Brooks begins to pout.
Robin: Well find him!
COMMERCIAL BREAK
CRIPPLED
The show returns with an entrance theme blaring in the background but not because we’re jumping right back into some no holds barred wrestling action. Instead Axl Evermore stands in the center of the ring, microphone clutched in his hand, pacing back and forth. Axl’s head is lowered, sullenly staring at his feet.
Mayne: And Riot! returns by putting our moldiest foot forward. Axl Nevermore in the center of the ring boring us all throughout the commercial break with his curse for gab.
Steward: I was seriously hoping that his whole speech would remain off camera but we’re just not that lucky.
The reserved Evermore continues to pace and speak his mind.
Axl: Long ago I made peace with the knowledge that this business would ultimately cripple me. I know that much like Orlando Cruze, I won’t be leaving this ring under my own power. I knew starting out, from day one that by the end I would eventually be that crippled, broken down old man signing autographs in a highschool gymnasium for ten bucks a pop. I knew I’d be crippled physically, but what I didn’t count on was being crippled psychologically, and emotionally. Let’s face it people, there’s only so many times you can be stabbed in the back before you begin to lose trust and lose faith. And I think I lost both of them when Jon Rich’s boot connected with this jaw.
He gestures to his chin.
Evermore: Ever since 2 For 1 Special, something’s changed. I haven’t been the same, and I don’t know why. I’m just……numb. I can’t feel anything. It’s like the swerve Rich pulled on me killed any hint of emotion that remained in this tired old heart.
He slaps his chest.
Evermore: Yeah, I know, I sound weepier than an episode of Dawson’s Creek, but hear me out. I’ve been double crossed by EVERYONE I thought I could count on since I stepped into an IWC ring. Everyone I trusted has turned their backs on me. A person’s psyche can only take so many blows, and at 2 For 1 Special, it suffered the equivalent of a WWE banned chair shot to the NOODLE!
From his heart his hand moves to his temple.
Axl: And to make matters worse, my tag team partner, Craven, would rather wear mascara and join his new buddies in smoking cigarettes behind the gym listening to some Seattle grunge and reciting emo platitudes, while I’m getting my ass KICKED by the likes of the Five Star Society. Where’s the love?
His hands are finally just thrown into the air.
Evermore: I’ve suffered more emotional distress than the staged performers on an episode of Jerry Springer. And if we’re gonna turn the IWC into a trashier, more redneck version of Springer, we might as well as get the cousin humping transvestites out here and start throwing punches. Oh wait, forgot the obligatory pretense that we’re actually here to express our feelings towards one another. So Jon, why don’t you come to the ring and tell me….why?
He shrugs.
Axl: Let’s hear your explanation before fists start to fly, chairs are thrown, and the crowd hoops and hollers like drunken phrat brothers, wailing the name, “Jerry, Jerry, Jerry!”
For some reason the crowd starts an “Axl” chant that just bewilders Evermore so.
Evermore: Come on Rich. Get out here. Let’s do the big, over-hyped reveal, get it out of the way and see if that finally makes me FEEL anything. Maybe, just maybe after I hear your motivation for that superkick I’ll stop feeling so numb. And who knows, maybe after we’ll done, there’ll be one more person who ends up crippled. So what do you say, Johnny? Want to come on out and see if we can jumpstart my FEEL….
Katelyn: The only thing you would feel if Jon Rich came out here is PAIN!
Buehler is met with unanimous disgust. All those Michigan natives crowded behind the barricades greet Buehler with a rousing chant of “SLUT.”
Mayne: How dare you convicts and welfare check receiving sons of bitches! Katelyn is NOT a slut. She’s just horizontally challenged.
Katie: Which is the scientific way of saying “slut.”
The chant causes Katelyn to squirm before she puts a fist to her hip and blows them off.
Buehler: Obviously you fit right in with the cretins in this city, Axl.
Axl: Kind of like the way you fit right in with the cast from Sex in the City?
Katelyn stews, her spine straightening and her nostrils flaring.
Katelyn: Watch yourself, Axl. You don’t want to rile up my man. You have no idea how rough he can get when he’s FIIIIIIRREED UP.
She licks her lips to much repulsion, especially from a now queasy Evermore. He puts a palm over his mouth to keep from blowing chunks.
Buehler: He’s NOT coming out here, WHY!?! Because he owes you nothing. No, no, he does owe you one thing, and that one thing being a BEATING. That’s all you would get if he showed up in that ring. But it’s not gonna happen, not tonight, and especially not on your terms mister.
Evermore shakes his head.
Buehler: When are you going to GET IT Evermore? Jon doesn’t answer to you. You’re not his boss. You don’t call the shots. He’s not your student, he’s YOUR master. He’s superior to you in every single way and yet you think he needs your advice? Get REAL. You insulted him with your attempts to guuuuiiide him, and now you insult him again with this ridiculous challenge. He didn’t listen to you when you were a team and he isn’t listening now. So you might as well go back to your lockeroom and…..
Evermore: I think not.
The fans erupt as Evermore cuts Katelyn off, finally shutting her up. She looks insulted by this interruption, now pouting as Axl continues.
Axl: In fact, I think I’m gonna stand here all night long until Jon Rich comes out and explains himself to me. No, wait, I’ve got a better idea.
Into his pocket Evermore reaches and from it he withdrawals a collection of photos.
Evermore: Maybe, just maybe, I’ll treat the fans here in Dearborn Michigan….
Axl gets the obligatory cheap pop.
Axl: To a glimpse of these photos that Hurse put up on his website of you taking a shit.
Buehler’s eyes widen to the brink of exploding out of their sockets.
Buehler: You….you…you…you WOULDN’T!
Evermore: I have to admit, the camera angles are amazing. He really got some great shots.
A photo is raised towards the light as Evermore tilts his head to get a better perspective.
Katelyn: You…I….he promised me those photos would never see the light of day. That son of a….that BASTARD!
Axl: So is Jon gonna show up or am I going to have to put on a show of my own?
The incriminating photographs are raised above Evermore’s head and met with decisive cheers, the fans wanting to see them.
Katelyn: Alright Axl, you win…..
The despondent Buehler suddenly cracks a grin. The motivation behind her Cybil-esque switch in emotion coincides with the arrival of Jon Rich. He catches Evermore unbeknownst from behind, slipping undetected into the ring and delivering an unexpected superkick to the back of the skull.
Mayne: They set him up…..AGAIN…..Hahahahahaha…beat ‘em down, but save the photographs.
Katie: Does your perversion know no limits?
Billy: I’m pretty sure I can stoop to lows deeper than Kassie Khane’s vagina.
Katelyn: He’s all yours.
The microphone is thrown from her hand and Katelyn comes rushing towards the ring to join in on this assault. Before she can even get inside Rich is already pulling Evermore up into a camel clutch then delivering vicious forearms to both sides of the skull. All Buehler can do is deliver sloppy kicks to his exposed forehead.
Mayne: This is good, very, very good, but would someone PLEASE, for the love of GODDESS, save those photographs. How many times do I have to ask?
Down the ramp rushes someone who has no interest in the photos, but has come to spare Evermore any further injuries. The fans watche this drama unfold with blank stares, utterly vexed at the sight of Pat Evans sliding into the ring, steel chain wrapped around his fist.
Billy: What the….HEY!
Rich just barely avoids the steel covered knuckles swung towards his head. He leaps out of the way, breaking the hold on Evermore in the process. He and Katelyn scramble from the ring before they can be so much as touched by Evans’ wild swings.
He spins around in the ring and steps to the ropes, his piercing eyes watching Rich and Buehler converge at the end of the ramp. Rich looks more intense than ever, smoke nearly shooting from his nostrils in an attempt to relieve the pressure building behind his eyes.
Steward: Why am I looking at Pat Evans right now?
Mayne: Because you didn’t veer your eyes from the screen in time.
Katie: He’s not supposed to be out here protecting Evermore. Their supposed to hate each other to their innermost core.
Billy: I think Pat has taken one too many shots to the brain.
Although the commentators may not be on board, the fans are 100% behind Pat Evans. The Technical Tyrant turns with his chained fist aimed at the recovering Evermore, who is desperately trying to push himself up from the canvas. The crowd is concerned by the fact that his fist is retracted, ready to swing and deliver a fatal blow to Axl.
Mayne: Yeah swing, take him out Evans. Just one punch, that’s all you need, then you’ll be done with Evermore once and for…..this officially sucks.
With Rich just starting to embrace the idea of Evans taking care of Evermore for him, Pat instead unclenches his fist and lowers it to Evermore’s shoulder. He crouches down beside Axl and instead of adding to his injuries, decides to check on his condition.
Katie: Okay, this borders on perverse.
Mayne: Something must be wrong here. After all the years these two have spent beating the piss out of one another, now Evans is actually concerned over Evermore’s well being?
Even Evermore finds himself confused as to Pat’s actions. When he hears his voice in his ear asking him if he can stand, Axl recoils out of sheer shock. The two exchange a questioning stare, with Evermore trying to ascertain the legitimacy of Evans’ offer.
Rich: You know better, you know better than to trust him, Axl. Like you said, everyone you ever trusted has betrayed you…..
Before Rich can finish his statement a huge mushroom cloud explosion erupts from the stage. Jon almost jumps out of his skin with Katelyn literally taking flight. The extremely loud pyrotechnics display causes her to leap into Rich’s arms with a knee jerk reaction. The two watch with dropped jaws as AWOL strolls through the curtains, pulling up his elbow pad and fixing his wrist tape.
Mayne: Iiiiiiittt’sssss AWOL!
Katie: And why am I looking at him now?
Evans and Evermore look on from the ring, wondering the exact same thing. AWOL doesn’t even bring himself to glance at the fans chanting his name, the brooding monster just proceeds down the ramp with eyes veered to the floor. He doesn’t look up at Rich and Katelyn who tentatively step around the ramp, passing right by him on their way to the backstage area. In fact, AWOL doesn’t acknowledge anyone until he reaches the top of the steel steps and sets his focus on Pat Evans in the center of the ring.
Mayne: Uhhh, I guess AWOL wants his match with Pat Evans and he isn’t waiting for it one second longer.
Katie: So he gets to decide when his matches start now?
Billy: I’m not gonna be the one to tell him no, and I’m sure none of the officiating staff will do otherwise. I mean, did you see what he tried to do to Craven last week? And he showed NO remorse after accidentally taking out Simon Cagero.
Steward: Yes, that was probably the funniest Riot! moment in company history.
The kneeling Evermore is suddenly shoved out of the ring by Evans for his own safety. Axl lands outside the ring just in time to spin around and watch AWOL almost behead Evans with a running boot right to the chin. Pat flips back and crashes onto the canvas, the chain flying off of his fist.
Mayne: AWOL is starting this match before a bell has even rung.
PAT EVANS VS. AWOL
Evermore backs away from the ring holding his neck and wondering whether he should even care if Evans is being assaulted by the likes of AWOL. He just backs up the ramp continuing to look conflicted. Meanwhile, inside of the squared circle Evans has been yanked to his feet and drilled to the jaw with an uppercut that puts him on his back.
Mayne: This guy’s demented and for once I actually care about what he’s doing. I don’t want to see him die, quite as much as I did before.
Katie: Kudos to AWOL then, but yeah, I still want him to die.
AWOL grabs hold of Pat’s hair, forcing him up to his feet and then charging him across the ring. He’s right on the verge of crushing Pat’s skull against the turnbuckle and he succeeds with bone breaking force. Pat’s skull ricochets from the pad and his body twists through the ropes to the outside of the ring.
Billy: AWOL is just all over Evans. He’s like Eddie Murphy on a transvestite.
Katie: Why has there been so much transvestite humor tonight, is Sasha Drachewych here again?
On the outside of the ring Evans is desperately trying to recover. After being caught off guard by AWOL he’s just been unable to get out of the gate. All he can do is create some distance between himself and the Big Crazy Bastard, who is definitely living up to his moniker tonight. Like a piranha intoxicated by the scent of blood, AWOL follows his prey, ready to rip through skin and feast on the tendons beneath. He waits patiently as Evans props his spine against the steps, which are the only thing keeping him seated.
Without any trepidation, no time for second guessing, AWOL storms towards Pat and extends his foot, driving it right through the steps. Pat rolled out of the way just in time to avoid having his skull crushed with the face wash. The crowd is still squealing as if they just witnessed a near death experience.
Mayne: That probably would have hurt Evans if AWOL actually succeeded at something for once.
Katie: Hurt him? They would have been cleaning chunks of his brain out of your suit for weeks.
Billy: True, but I’d probably keep the pieces and sell them on e-bay.
AWOL retracts his foot and has a bit of trouble putting weight on his ankle, which offers up the perfect opening for the former Submission Champion. Pat gets to his knees and grabs AWOL’s shin, lifting it up into the air. The Tag Team Champion hops on one foot, trying to keep his balance. He’s about to fight free from Pat’s grasp only for Evans to swing his ankle towards the steps where it connects with enough force to shatter all bones in his leg.
Instead of crying out in agony AWOL stoops forward and tries to walk off the injury.
He gets a few steps before Evans lunges shoulder first into the crease of his knee. Thanks to Pat hurdling himself into the sociopath AWOL has been brought down to his knees. He grabs the apron to try and support himself but even it can’t hold him up.
Mayne: UUUUUUUGH. Evans is fighting back. Someone beat me to death with a brick right now.
Katie: EXCELLENT. I’ve been waiting for the opportunity to bludgeon you senseless.
Mayne: HEY! Where did you get that brick? I wasn’t being serious.
AWOL limps to his feet as Pat grabs hold of his ankle and begins to drag him away from the ring. The fans are elated at Pat’s attempt to apply the ankle lock. Before he can get it established AWOL rolls forward and throws Evans over. Pat tries to keep hold of the ankle and it leads to his undoing, his body launched face first into the hardest portion of the ring, the apron.
His skull bashes off and his body twists to the mats, hitting them with a thud.
Mayne: Shooooo, so much for that.
Referee Fitzpatrick finally shows up, scurrying towards the ring to get some type of control over this action. He slides in and finally calls for the bell, officially commencing this match.
Billy: And we’re just now starting this match? The referee’s backstage really need to work on their cardio and start getting out here faster.
Katie: Everyone in this company is out of shape. Have you not seen Kassie Khane’s cankles?
Official Fitzpatrick continues to call for the bell before he’s forced into another course of action. He shouts at AWOL to stop as the Big Crazy Bastard heaves the steel steps to his chest. His eyes lock on the recovering Evans, ready to use the steel to crush his skull, as he planned earlier in the match. It isn’t until Fizpatrick threatens to disqualify AWOL that he begins to lower the steps, coming to his senses. Suddenly he turns and drives the steps right into Fitzpatrick’s face, knocking him to his back inside of the ring.
Mayne: AWOL just clobbered the referee with those steps! He’s gone apeshit!
The crowd is stunned as they watch the referee roll across the canvas, clutching at his possibly shattered skull. Before AWOL even has time to react to his own knee-jerk decisions, he turns and flings the steps at an upright Evans. Pat luckily ducks under the way of the inbound stairs, charges forward, rams his shoulder into AWOL’s ribs and powers him spine first right into the exposed turnbuckle post.
Mayne: Pat just doing everything he can to survive at this point.
Katie: And once again he’ll let us all down.
AWOL grips at his kidneys, grimacing from the pain. He has no recovery period as Evans takes him around the neck and inserts him into the ring. The Big Crazy Bastard rolls to his elbows and knees as Pat begins to slide in after him. He gets half way through the ropes when AWOL delivers a straight uppercut, the force of which echoing throughout the Fine Arts Center.
Evans almost falls through the ropes as AWOL takes him around the neck, applying a front chancery and utilizes this grip to drag him to the center of the ring. Without an inkling of emotion AWOL hoists Evans up into the air, going for the vertical suplex only to have Pat float over and land right behind him. He delivers a sudden basement dropkick right to the back of AWOL’s ankle.
The force of the strike knocks AWOL’s feet out from under him and brings him down to his seat. He grimaces in pain, reaching for his leg as Evans takes off into the ropes, ricocheting off. He then comes barreling back towards the seated AWOL and almost cracks his nose with a vicious running knee strike.
Mayne: Yuck. Evans actually building some momentum.
Steward: Your right to be repulsed.
Evans swings around to face the laid out AWOL and drops into the cover. He hooks the big man’s leg in the hopes that the knee jarred his brain just enough to leave him comatose for the three count. Unfortunately there is no official present to make the count.
Billy: The official’s unconscious, HA-HA!
Katie: Meaning we may be spared the indignity of a Pat Evans victory? You can think me for this small miracle with offerings at my shrine.
AWOL kicks out on instinct even though no count was being made. While turning away from his opponent the Big Crazy Bastard grabs his nose and fixes it as best he can then puts the pain aside. He begins to ascend to his feet but only reaches a knee before Evans clocks him to the temple with a right, and then a jab nails him in the cheek. Pat urgently unloads on the Tag Team Champion and now takes him around the neck, setting up for a DDT.
Unfortunately for Evans, he had not anticipated AWOL’s monstrous strength and resilience. AWOL rises to his feet, wedges his hands to Pat’s ribs, shoves him up into the air and then throws him across the ring. Now it’s AWOL who is the unfortunate one, as he failed to realize just how agile Evans can be. Pat lands on his feet just as AWOL comes charging towards him and gets caught in a drop toe hold.
AWOL collapses to the canvas and Pat stands up behind him, grabbing hold of the ankle. The crowd squeals as Evans stands up applying the ankle lock.
Mayne: Many people have tried to get AWOL to submit before, but they’ve all failed. Will Evans be the first man to ever make AWOL tap?
Steward: Why does it have to be a man? I’m sure I could force AWOL into submission with mere seconds. All I have to do is show him a picture of Stacy Kissinger in a bikini.
The grimacing monster rises to his elbows and pulls himself across the ring, reaching out and grabbing the bottom rope. But Fitzpatrick is still unconscious, no one there to see him take the cables. Therefore, Evans steps back across the ring and drags AWOL to the center, maintaining the ankle lock. He twists the ankle with such force that it threatens to separate the foot from the leg.
Finally another official shows up in order to render a verdict should AWOL submit. Referee Wright slides across his stomach to the center of the ring and gets into perfect position, anticipating a tap out. Evans can feel AWOL’s strength fading, compelling him to twist at the ankle with even more force than before. He almost turns the foot at such an angle that AWOL’s toes are facing his body.
Billy: We might actually see a submission here.
Katie: Yeah, cause I’m about to tap out, collect my paycheck and get the hell out of here before I lose my mind.
Although AWOL’s leg is incredible pain he is still resisting the temptation to tap out. He suddenly rolls to his back, wedges both feet to Pat’s sternum and kicks him off. Pat collapses to his back BUT he’s still got hold of the ankle. He rolls to his side, ending up on his knees and brings AWOL over to his stomach, continuing to put pressure on the leg, twisting it at an even more disturbing angle.
Mayne: AWOL can’t free himself from this hold. He just can’t get loose.
Pat displays his fiery intensity, every muscle in his body put to work in order to keep the submission applied and continue wrenching the leg.
In an act of desperation AWOL rolls to his back once more and bends his knees, bringing Evans down closer so that he’s within arm’s length. The Big Crazy Bastard sits up and grabs the collar of Pat’s shirt, pulling him down even closer where he can deliver several right hands to the temple and jaw. After rattling Evans’ brain AWOL utilizes his leg strength to shove him off.
Steward: And what a shock, someone gets out of the ankle lock. Doesn’t this happen at least once a week?
Pat collapses to his back and rolls across it to his feet. He stands up as quickly as he can then builds some momentum, charging at the rising behemoth. He runs right into the top of AWOL’s skull though, the Big Crazy Bastard delivering a headbutt to the sternum that sends Evans flying back across the ring.
Mayne: YOUCH! AWOL’s head must be harder than my penis after that mention of Stacy Kissinger in a bikini.
Katie: What?
Billy: I mean, ummm, I’m disgusted by the image and my penis is confused.
Steward: Hmmmm.
Evans lies on his back almost coughing up blood as a result of that blunt force trauma to his chest. All the while the Big Crazy Bastard limps towards him, unable to put very much pressure on his ankle. He snatches Evans by the hair, forces him up to his feet and then tosses him into the turnbuckle. His spine connects and his legs cut out from under him, Evans dropping to his seat, spine propped up by the post. AWOL’s menacing eyes lock on Evans, realizing that Pat is now perfectly placed for the very move that Craven suffered last week.
Mayne: We’re gonna see some more face washes. Oh goodie.
The fans begin to plead with AWOL not to do it as he backs across the ring into the far ropes, creating significant distance in which to build some speed. His nostrils flare, his face twists, his breaths become forced and labored, building the rage inside to the cusp of eruption. Finally he takes off towards the drowsy Evans and launches his foot straight at his face.
Without warning Pat reaches out and catches the inbound boot right before it could take his face off. The reaction from the crowd changes as Evans rises and AWOL hops on one foot. He finds himself on the verge of having the face wash countered into the ankle lock.
Billy: You got to be blowing smoke up my anus.
Katie: Believe your Goddess when she says this, I’ll never get anywhere near your anus. I don’t imagine you wash it frequently.
Billy: Once a week is more than sufficient.
Pat tries as he may to get the hold locked in once again but AWOL isn’t about to fall victim to another ankle lock. He turns and spots the official standing within reach, prompting him to grab Wright by his jersey and fling him side first into Evans.
Pat is forced to break the hold as he now goes spiraling into the ropes, falling against them for support. Wright collapses to his seat, looking stunned that he was just used as a weapon. Before he can berate AWOL for his tactics he has to make a snap three count. Evans rushes out of the ropes and gets caught with a tilt a whirl into a running powerslam from AWOL. The Big Crazy Bastard delivers the move on one leg and all, and then wedges a forearm to Pat’s face.
1
2
Evans launches his shoulder from the ring, just preventing the three count.
Mayne: Ohhhh rats.
Katie: Your stilted dialogue is really starting to tax my brain.
An Evans chant starts as AWOL sluggishly reaches his feet and then grabs hold of his wounded opponent’s hair. He pulls Pat along to his knees and then grabs hold of his wrist, yanking it through his legs. He hooks the other arm, just about to deliver the Daisy Cutter. He gets Evans up to his shoulder only for Pat to slip over and land on his feet behind the Big Crazy Bastard. He then hooks AWOL’s arm, trying to hoist him up into the Spinal Tap.
A back elbow from AWOL kills that dream. Evans staggers back clutching at his jaw just as AWOL spins around and gets a running start. He throws a lariat that Pat ducks under, swinging behind AWOL, catching him around the waist then dropping back into a bridging German suplex. The fans pop at the sight of Evans getting all of AWOL’s weight up and over.
1
2
AWOL kicks out a mere fraction of a second before the three.
Mayne: They don’t come much closer than that. Evans almost had AWOL, and as a result I almost lost all hope in humanity.
Katie: I lost all hope in humanity when Jake Starr won the SCW World Title.
The battered Evans sits up, fighting through the pain as he rises. The physicality of this match is starting to take it’s toll on him, but in spite of the pain he may be in, nothing will quill his desire to win. He steps towards AWOL and snatches him by the back of the head, beginning to force the big man up to his feet.
That’s when AWOL delivers a direct shot to Pat’s throat.
Mayne: Ohhhh.
Evans backs away gasping for air, his trachea perhaps crushed by the blow. His face goes red as he coughs and wheezes for every precious breathe. As AWOL reaches his feet, showing not one ounce of remorse, official Wright jumps all over his face. He repeatedly gestures to his throat, insisting that AWOL just delivered an illegal blow. In response to this AWOL has but one rebuttal, a chokeslam delivered on a stunned Wright.
Mayne: Now he’s just chokeslammed the referee. I’m loving this. Someone get me some popcorn and a large soda.
Katie: This is just like the IWC. The inmates run wild and there’s absolutely no control.
The referee is completely unconscious and Evans is doubled over still gripping at his throat. Both men have AWOL to thank for their current predicaments, and he isn’t through yet. AWOL steps in behind Evans, pulls his arm through his legs, hooks the other and drops back into the Daisy Cutter. Evans crashes face first into the canvas then flops to his back, lying right beside the unconscious Wright.
Billy: AWOL has taken out two referees and Pat Evans. He’s gone totally mental.
Katie: Gone? Hasn’t he always been, off? I mean, he has willingly teamed with Johnny Kingdom.
Billy: True. That’s a clear cut sign of mental instability.
AWOL crawls into the cover on Evans but has seemingly forgotten the product of his own actions. There is no referee conscious to make the count, forcing AWOL to take matters into his own hands. He grabs Wright by the wrist, pulls his hand up into the air and uses it to slap the canvas not once, not twice, but three times.
Mayne: And the madness is finally over. AWOL wins, I guess.
Katie: Would you like to tell him he didn’t?
Billy: Do I look like I’m that stupid?
Katie: Do you want an honest answer?
The Big Crazy Bastard reaches his feet and lifts a fist high above his head, receiving a mixed reaction from the confused crowd. He stops celebrating however, when he fails to hear the bell chiming, serving as an indication that this match is indeed over. The chilling, soul stealing gaze of AWOL shifts to the time keeper, who immediately breaks out in a cold sweat.
Apparently AWOL feels he has to do everything around here. He rolls from the ring and approaches the bell, snatching it off of the table and using the attached hammer to ring it several times.
Mayne: There you go, this one is over because AWOL says it’s over. He decided when the match started and when it ended.
He continues to ring the bell loud and clear before he finds another use for it. Pat is now rolling across the ring, still gasping as he spills under the ropes to the outside. AWOL isn’t about to let him walk away under his own power. He apathetically descends upon Evans with the bell still clutched tightly.
Mayne: He isn’t through with Evans yet.
Katie: Good, put him on the shelf so we never have to call one of his matches ever again.
Pat has no idea that AWOL is nipping at his heels. He continues to stumble up the ramp with the monster closing in, raising the ring bell above his head. Just as the Big Crazy Bastard prepares to deliver irreparable brain damage his hand is stopped. He lowers the bell and drops it the moment he makes eye contact with Simon Cagero on the stage.
Mayne: I’ll say it a thousand times by the end of the night, but damn you Simon Cagero.
AWOL examines Cagero and the IWC Tag Team Title belts that adorn his shoulders.
NO “EYE” IN TEAM
Simon: What the FUCK is wrong with you?
The ring bell slips from AWOL’s clutches and hits the ramp beneath his feet. His head tilts, watching Cagero approach him with mic in hand and belts over shoulders. The distraction allows a still gasping Evans to stagger to the backstage area.
Cagero: You’re slipping Anthony, your fucking losing it bud.
The crowd is a bit surprised to see Simon get so close to AWOL while verbally berating him, deeming it the equivalent of sticking your hand into a lion’s cage while holding a big chunk of raw meat.
Simon: What’s going on with you, huh, huh? You haven’t been the same since 2 For 1 Special, since Generation Suck took you for a ride in the trunk of that car. Talk to me Anthony, clue me in. Let me know what’s going on inside of your head.
He gestures to AWOL’s enormous cranium. The Big Crazy Bastard is incapable of gestures and speech, he just looks away from Cagero remaining incommunicado.
Cagero: Something’s not quite right with you, bud. That’s obvious. And I’m not gonna stop till I get to the bottom of it, until we get back the old monetarily obsessed son of a bitch we all know and love. And the man who understood the importance of working as a squad, as a TEAM.
AWOL turns his eyes towards Cagero, perhaps finding some merit in his ramblings.
Simon: Yeah, Anthony, I think you’ve lost sight of what being a team means. You’ve been running around like you’re a one man army and you’ve left me, Ackart, Too Mag and Kingdom waiting in the trenches. We formed this group just so that wouldn’t happen, so we’d always have someone to watch our backs, but it seems you’ve forgotten that Anthony. If you think you can take on Generation Now and the Five Star Society by yourself, then you’ve lost your motherfucking mind.
AWOL’s eyes veer from Cagero’s face as he gnaws at his lower lip.
Cagero: For starters, you’ve tried to battle them on your own in the past, we all have, didn’t work. The numbers game is just too much. They always find a way to interfere, to sneak in behind the ref’s back, to steal wins. Just like earlier tonight. So if you think you can beat them all on your own, you CAN’T. Oh, and secondly, the Motherfuckin Empire isn’t gonna LET YOU carry on this war by yourself.
Although Cagero didn’t choose his words wisely he elicits no reaction from AWOL.
Simon: Look at this, Anthony, LOOK!
AWOL’s and Kingdom’s Tag Team Title belts are raised from Simon’s shoulders.
Cagero: Have you forgotten what these represent? What being a Tag Team Champion is all about? Well have you? HAVE YOU!?!
There continues to be no response.
Simon: Being Tag Champ and being part of the Motherfuckin Empire means your part of a brotherhood, Anthony. And brothers are always there for one another, just like we’ll be there every step of the way as you wage your bloody campaign against Generation So What and the Half Star Society. Whether you like it or not, you have partners, no, friends, no, BROTHERS. And as your brother, I’m not letting you fight alone. It’s time you accepted this Anthony, take your belt.
The IWC Tag Team Title belt is extended towards Anthony, who’s expression has been gravely altered. AWOL looks down at the championship, taking into account all of it’s symbolic implications. Finally he extends his hand, taking the title belt, then reaches out with the other, asking for the mic.
AWOL: For once, I can’t argue with you, Simon.
The tone of his voice is far softer than one would expect from a man who just left a pile of bodies in his wake.
AWOL: You’re absolutely right. As long as I’m a Tag Team Champion and a member of the Motherfuckin Empire, the likes of you and Kingdom will always be there to stand by my side.
Cagero proudly nods.
Simon: Fuck yeah we will.
AWOL: So I guess there’s only one thing I can do.
Cagero: It’s good to hear you come to terms with…..
AWOL: I’m forfeiting the Tag Titles.
Simon: Excellent, that’s exactly….wait, what?
The soft tone suddenly becomes deeper and harsh.
AWOL: And I’m leaving the Motherfuckin Empire effective immediately.
Cagero takes a deep breathe and now sullenly shakes his head.
AWOL: I’m through letting you, and Kingdom, and Too Magnificent and all the rest get in my way.
Cagero: We’re not in your way, we’re just trying to help you.
AWOL: You’re only hindering me. You’re all too weak and too frail to go down this path, Kingdom proved that with his injury. And you just don’t have the stomach for what I’m about to do to the Five Star Society and Generation Now.
Simon: What the fuck are you talking about?....
AWOL: Do yourself a favor, Simon, and stay out of my way, otherwise you’ll be just another victim.
To make his statement all the more emphatic AWOL throws down the Tag Title belt to the ramp and walks right past Cagero.
Cagero: You can’t seriously….stop Anthony…let’s talk about this….
He grabs AWOL’s forearm and in a split instant finds himself laid out on the stage, a victim of a straight right hand to the eye. The crowd gasps as the sight of AWOL decking Cagero and putting him on his back. A stunned Simon sits up, cupping his eyeball and watching as AWOL marches up the ramp. The Big Crazy Bastard doesn’t even look back or react to his actions, he stoically strolls through the curtains.
Mayne: Hahahahaha….HAHAHAHAHA!
Steward: Okay, now that was must see TV.
The camera’s shift from a sullen Cagero reaching his feet and limping backstage to the announce table where Katie and Billy are still getting a hoot over what just happened.
Billy: Oh my Goddess, what hilarity. AWOL totally put Cagero on his ass. You couldn’t ask for a greater moment than that.
Katie: The Motherfuckin Empire is falling apart….
Mayne: I know, isn’t it great?
Steward: What did I tell you about interrupting me?
Mayne: Sorry Goddess, I’m just so excited, and I just can’t hide it….
Katie: For the love of Goddess, don’t start singing or your punishment will only be worse.
Billy: I feel like singing from the mountain tops. Nothing could ruin this splendid, awe inspiring mome….
YOU KNOW MY NAME
Mayne: Son of a bitch.
Katie: Thanks, you jinxed us once again.
THREE’S A CROWD
The camera pans up from the Tag Title belts lying on the ramp to Orlando Cruze now standing on the stage. The crowd, who hadn’t expected the Icon to show up tonight literally erupt out of shock.
Mayne: What is he doing here? Huh?
Katie: Didn’t he give some kind of long, tedious goodbye speech last week? Will we never be unburdened of the Orlando curse?
Billy: I think he’ll continue to haunt us long after his death.
The crowd continues to give the co-president a standing ovation as he steps back and takes it all in. A smile graces his face in spite of everything that he’s witnessed here tonight, including the shocking turn of events just moments ago. He continues to reel from the deafening roar of approval that he’s receiving from the packed Dearborn crowd. After much delay, giving the crowd ample time to settle down, he lifts the microphone to his smirking lips.
Orlando: In the immortal words of Joey Lawrence, “WHOA!”
Even a reference to Blossum gets a pop from the crowd. The fans need something to cheer for after AWOL’s repulsive behavior, and in their eyes Orlando can do no wrong.
Cruze: What a night we’ve had thus far here in Dearborn MI!
Another loud pop ensues.
Orlando: And far be it from me to detract from what has been a stupendous show thus far by “hogging” the spotlight, but I’ve got some announcements that need to be made. That’s the ONLY reason I’m here tonight. Don’t get me wrong, I love being in Michigan and I love being in front of each and everyone of you fans, BUUUUTT, I did say my goodbyes last week, and I hate to be a hypocrite by showing up once again even when I swore that I wouldn’t. Which brings me to another BUUUUUUTTTT….I was informed by the new co-owner of the IWC, the ever so mysterious individual I sold my shares too, that my presence was needed. Apparently, as ashamed as I am to admit, Orlando Cruze, THE ICON, has become a lowly messenger boy.
He pretends to pout, protruding his lower lip.
Mayne: That’s not low enough. Orlando deserves nothing more than being a janitor. No, no, what’s worse than a janitor, ah yes, he deserves to be a Republican.
Orlando perks right back up.
Cruze: The new owner has a major announcement concerning next week’s telecast and he demanded that I be the one to deliver said announcement. Wait for it….
He holds up a finger.
Orlando: BUUUUUUTTT….I have an announcement of my own to make first. After all the World Title shenanigans of late, ever since the “controversial” conclusion to the 4 way at 2 For 1 Special, I think we all deserve some clarity. As it stands right now there are four, yep, that’s right, FOUR individuals who have a case for deserving a World Heavyweight Title match at Paranoia VII. So how do we solve this conundrum? A royal rumble? Some type of overbooked, clusterfuck involving ladders and briefcases? NAAAAHHH, we’ve seen it all before.
He snaps his fingers, as if he suddenly has an epiphany.
Cruze: I got it! How about treating all you fans to not one, not two, but THREE matches with World title implications at Paranoia VII?
The fans are clearly on board gauging their reaction.
Orlando: Sound good to you?
He holds out the microphone to catch the crowd’s reaction.
Cruze: That’s what I thought. Soooo, here’s what I’ve come up with. We’re going to have TWO matches, and the winners of those matches will move on to the Paranoia main event to fight it out for the IWC Championship all in the same night. In the first match we’re gonna see the IWC World Heavyweight Champion himself, Jason Zero, go one on one with the SCW World Heavyweight Champion, Jake Starr!
This announcement has heartbeats racing and adrenaline surging.
Orlando: In the second match, one that I’ll particularly enjoy seeing, we’re gonna have the 2008 Wrestler of the Year, Christian Savior, versus the 2009 Wrestler of the Year, Porno Lad!
Another piercing reaction is heard from the crowd.
Mayne: WHAT!?! He can’t put Porno Lad and Christian Savior against each other….that’s….that’s….
Katie: Take a breath.
Orlando: And like I said, the winners of those two matches will move on to face each other that very same night, with one competitor walking away as the undisputed IWC World Heavyweight Champion.
Orlando looks pleased with his decision making and the crowd unanimously endorses him.
Cruze: And oh yeah, I still have the new owner’s announcement to make. Apparently he’s got a bit of an insatiable bloodlust, meaning he should fit right in around here, because next week on Riot! he wants to see a little stable warfare. In fact, he wants to see the Motherfuckin Empire, Generation Now and the Five Star Society face off to end their war once and for all! BUUUUUUUT this rivalry won’t end in just any match, nuh-uh, too simple. These three stables are gonna battle inside of a…..
He pauses to build anticipation and tension.
Orlando: HELL IN A CELL!
The crowd gasps at the mention of a hell in a cell bout, the first of it’s kind in IWC history.
Cruze: Five Star Society vs. Generation Now vs. The Motherfuckin Empire, Hell in a Cell, LIVE on Riot!
He tosses the mic as his music hits in the background and he backs through the curtains.
Mayne: Hell in a Cell on the next Riot!?! The Five Star Society is gonna be trapped in there with Generation Now and the Motherfuckin Empire? What kind of cruel son of a bitch would do such a thing?
Katie: I’m not participating in any hell in a cell, no sir, no way, I could chip a nail or end up coming out as ugly as, well, you.
The building continues to rumble with applause over the Paranoia VII dream matches that were made and the sure to be epic Hell in a Cell clash scheduled for the very next Riot!
CAGE RATTLING
The crowd continues to pop as Orlando Cruze strolls towards the gorilla position. A confident smirk rests on his face, and there is a noticeable pep in his step. Although his wrestling career may be over he still left the crowd happy.
Jackson: Well, well, what a shocker….
Cruze turns with dismay to address Jackson Adams and Max Craven. The two approach the Icon looking quite discontent even with Jackson’s Submission Title belt sparkling over his shoulder.
Adams: Orlando Cruze shows up, makes a speech, and steals the spotlight yet again, who would have thunk it.
Adams glances towards his partner who simply shrugs.
Jackson: But wait, can this be? I thought Orlando Cruze just gave this long, sob story about never showing up in the IWC ever again. Hmmmm, that can’t be right, because here he stands, in all his moody, melodramatic grandeur.
Orlando: Finished?
Adams: Oh I can go on for hours about your hypocrisy.
Cruze: I’m sure you can, since it seems the only thing your capable of doing is running your mouth.
Instead of getting angry Jackson grins.
Jackson: I can do plenty of other things, Orlando, and you would find that out if you stopped ducking my challenge.
This whole conversation accomplishes nothing more than giving Orlando a migraine.
Orlando: We’ve already discussed this, Jackson….
Adams: Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, right, completely forgot. You won’t face me because you got dropped on your head one too many times, right? No wait, it’s because your family doesn’t want you to end up a vegetable. Hold on, am I missing some other melodramatic, MADE UP, excuse?
Cruze: Made up? Hmmmm, my injury must be one elaborate, expensive hoax then, given all those X-Rays and cat-scans I underwent. You flatter yourself, Jackson, I wouldn’t go to these extremes just to avoid a match with you.
Jackson: No, but you would if it meant forcing some sympathy from these dimwitted fans. Come on now, you know you thrive on putting these people through hell with your drama, drama, DRAMA! Instead of giving them what they came here for, actual wrestling. No, no, although you could put on a five star classic with me, you’d rather talk endlessly about your tumor and your lil’ kiddies. Yeah, that’s really giving the crowd what they want.
Craven: How sad. Instead of giving the fans a reason to live, you pretty much ensure they’ll go home after the show and put a razor to their wrists.
Adams: Yeah Cruze, you’ve assisted more suicides than Dr. Kevorkian.
The Generation Now members shake their heads. Just as Orlando opens his mouth to respond he’s cut off.
Jackson: And to make matters worse your gonna sully Paranoia VII with all this brain tumor related non-sense. Sure, sure, you saaaay that your just gonna be there to announce the new owner, but when the lights are on bright and millions of people are watching around the world, you won’t be able to pass up the opportunity to shed a tear and give another of your weepy speeches. And just how long is it gonna take Cruze, how many precious minutes will your PMSing take out of my match? Oh wait, that’s right, I don’t have one, because YOU would rather cry a river than step into the ring with me.
Max: Backing down from challenges. That doesn’t sound like the Orlando Cruze I know. I guess it’s official, the Icon is dead.
Adams: I guess the tumor spread to your spine Cruze.
Orlando would like to do nothing more than write them off but he can’t. As much as it pains him, Generation Now is right, or at least partially right.
Shaun: Do we have a problem here gentlemen?
Craven and Adams sneer as Shaun Cruze approaches. He steps between the Gen Now representatives and his sullen brother.
Craven: Hahahaha, would you look at this JA, Orlando’s hiding behind his baby brother.
Jackson: At least there’s one Cruze who can still offer a fight.
Shaun: You’ll find out just how much fight I have in me later tonight fellas.
The reference to the X-Class Title gauntlet brings a grin to Jackson’s face.
Adams: Good. Nice to see that cowardice isn’t genetic. We’ll see you out there Cruze, and I hope you can give us an actual challenge.
Shaun: Count on it.
Craven and Adams back away slowly, leaving the brothers with something to think about. Once the coast is clear Shaun turns towards his depressed sibling.
Shaun: Don’t worry, I’ll take care of them later.
This statement forces Orlando to look up and finally address his brother.
Orlando: I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, Shaun.
Shaun: That’s not what….
Orlando: I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have….
Shaun: Your not actually taking those idiots seriously are you? Their just trying to rattle your cage.
Cruze: Well it’s working.
Orlando turns and walks away, shoulders slouched, head lowered. Although he hungers for the opportunity to get his hands on Craven and Adams, he knows that he can’t. Shaun watches his brother take a long walk of shame.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
The Very Best of WrestleMania
AN INCONVIENANT TRUTH
Michelle: This is Michelle Blacker standing backstage alongside one of our many young upstarts looking to make a splash on the grand-stage, Paranoia VII.
Before the camera can even finish adjusting Michelle is already doing the quick, nitty gritty introduction. She stands right alongside Theodore Noel Garrison, the young man who hasn’t been seen since he was jumped and mistaken for Zero several weeks ago.
Blacker: Theodore, we haven’t seen very much of you the last few weeks. Where have you been keeping yourself?
TNG openly criticizes the question through his appalled expression.
TNG: You know EXACTLY where I’ve been little lady.
Blacker cannot help but to chuckle.
Michelle: In the hospital?
TNG: Unfortunately….
He speaks through gritting teeth.
TNG: But lengthy hospital stays tend to happen in my line of work.
Blacker: Being a wrestler?
TNG: Yeah, erm, sure, that’s what I meant.
Michelle: Speaking of which, we haven’t actually seen you compete since your debut match against Rick-Rohl, where you were beaten deci….
TNG: Yeah, yeah, spare the details.
Obviously Theodore does not like to be reminded of his failure.
TNG: All that’s about to change because I will be stepping back into the ring, which is what brings me to the point of this whole interview.
Garrison turns to address his comments to the camera.
TNG: To truly make Paranoia VII the grand, awe inspiring spectacle it’s supposed to be, I, TNG am volunteering my services to compete in a match. That’s right, some lucky wrestler will have the opportunity to battle me at the bigge….YARR…
A hand snatches Ted by the throat, forcing him to choke on his words. The terrified youngster is dragged towards the menacing brute towering before him. AWOL’s hand squeezes Theodore’s juggular, strangling the very essence from his body.
AWOL: I would leave if I were you.
Theodore is able to choke out the word “okay” before being pitched into the set design behind Michelle’s back. His face cracks off of the steel and he twists to the floor. Michelle barely has any time to react to what’s happening before she’s grabbed by the wrist and yanked violently towards AWOL so that the mic is within range of his lips.
AWOL: I have something that needs to be said.
Blacker isn’t about to argue with the Big Crazy Bastard. She meekly nods and lets him continue. His penetrating gaze is beamed through the camera to millions of homes around the world.
AWOL: Orlando Cruze, I kindly refuse your invitation to compete in Hell in a Cell next week. I will have no part in that match. I want to take on all four members of Generation Now ALONE, and until I get what I want I REFUSE to wrestle.
The mic is forced away from AWOL’s lips as he pushes Michelle from her feet to her rump. She looks up at the menacing behemoth as he passes, not even glancing back to survey the damage he has caused.
RICK-ROHL VS. HURSE
Billy: Good gravy, AWOL has gone nuttier than a Tim Burton movie, with less shitty 3D animation.
Steward: He’s deciding when his matches start, when they end, when he’ll compete, what belts he’ll hold, so on and so forth. He’s a male version of me, only nowhere near as pretty.
The jarring tunes of EverEve’s “House of the Rising Sun” brings many of the fans to their feet. All eyes adjust on the entry way where Hurse has become visible. Instead of posturing for the audience Hurse heads straight towards the ring, a very emotional gleam in his eyes. Robin sashays out to his side, following her lapdog towards the ring where he will prepare to end a long time partnership. She seems delighted by the image of Hurse entering the ring and ricocheting off the ropes, limbering up in anticipation of a war.
Mayne: I haven’t seen Hurse this driven in, well, forever. He looks like a totally different person.
Katie: He probably didn’t have enough fiber in his cereal this morning. Otherwise there’s NOTHING different about him. He’s the same terrible wrestler he was yesterday and will be tomorrow.
Hurse does some standing crunches while Robin purposely rubs her pregnant stomach, drawing as much attention to it as possible to remind him what he’s fighting for. After getting physically prepared, stretching all major muscles Hurse requests that Brooks leave the ring. She waits a moment then exits so it looks like it was HER idea to clear out of harm’s way. On the outside of the ring the pregnant Brooks watches as Hurse paces like a ferocious beast caged and unable to answer it’s predatory instincts.
Billy: Well, is Rick actually gonna show up and wrestle his boss? Or is he gonna walk away with his penis tucked in his vagina?
Katie: He won’t show, he needs the steady paycheck in today’s economy.
Hurse continues to wait for what seems like an eternity until he hears the voice of Rick Astley, which only means one thing, Rick-Rohl is on his way to the ring. Robin smirks, pleased that Rick has taken her ex-fiancee up on his challenge and will undoubtedly step into his own execution. Her smile widens as Rick steps through the curtains but stops with only half his body showing. A microphone is gripped in his hand as he peeks from the backstage area towards the ring.
Mayne: There’s that hairy baritone son of a bitch now. What’s he waiting for? Wipe your ass and get out here!
Katie: Don’t tell me he’s got that whole loyalty issue. That just disgusts me on so many levels.
Hurse urges Rick towards the ring, obsessed with the idea of pummeling him here tonight. Rohl hasn’t taken another step forward though, continuing to hesitate on the stage where the mic is raised to his lips.
Rohl: Steven, this just isn’t happening brother.
His refusal to participate leaves Hurse kicking mad. He literally kicks and thrashes about the ring throwing a temper tantrum.
Rick: I know Robin has you all whipped up into a frenzy right now but we aren’t about to end our alliance, not now, not like this. Especially not when I’ve finally got my hands on the one crucial piece of evidence that will prove without a shadow of a doubt that you’ve been played all along.
Robin: Don’t listen to him, Steven? What does he know about hoaxes?
Rick: Hello, the name’s Rick-Rohl for a reason.
Brooks is steaming, red hot at ringside. She tries her best to keep Hurse focused on annihilating Rohl instead of listening to him.
Brooks: Go up that ramp and take care of him, Steven. Destroy him before he can hurt our baby again.
Hurse snaps out of it and nods before storming towards the ropes.
Rick: Whoa, whoa, just give me twenty seconds, Steven, that’s all I need.
Hurse hesitates with one leg through the ropes, much to Robin’s anger.
Robin: What are you doing? Sick him!
Despite her pleas Hurse remains frozen.
Rick: Robin, I believe you’ve been looking for my friend here.
With a yank Dr. Holmes is pulled from the backstage area, dropping to his knees beside Rick-Rohl. A huge bruise has formed around his eye and his wrists are taped behind his back. He almost slips out of Rohl’s hands, looking as if he’s been beaten to a stupor. Robin’s whole face goes pale white and it’s not because of morning sickness.
Rohl: Funny story. I went to have a chat with your obstetrician when he showed up here tonight and somehow it ended up where he was repeatedly ramming his face into my fists and spilling a whole bunch of really interesting tidbits. He wouldn’t stop talking and rapping himself around my knuckles. What odd behavior.
Robin is actually sweating and Hurse is finally listening.
Rick: He told me a lot, way more than I needed to confirm my suspicions. You see Steven, I knew that I recognized Dr. Holmes here, and when this money clip, filled with singles fell out of his pocket….
The money clip in question is held aloft.
Rohl: It all came back to me. Several years ago in Vancouver I was performing a private party that somehow got double booked. Turns out that the second stripper the agency sent just so happens to be kneeling at my feet this very second.
All eyes shift the scuffed up Dr. Holmes.
Rohl: That’s right, Steven, unless Holmes was stripping to put himself through medical school, you’ve been played. He’s no obstetrician. He’s nothing more than a stripping con-artist. And he’s Canadian too. Go ahead, tell him.
The microphone is forced to a now sobbing Holmes’ lips. He tries to keep the secret but when his shoulder is pinched he just starts blabbering.
Robin: No Steven, don’t listen.
She leaps to the apron and tries to get into the ring to cover his ears but she’s too late.
Holmes: It’s true, it’s allll true. Robin hired me to fake her pregnancy. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.
He breaks down into tears, prompting Rick to release him.
Rick: There you have it Steven, the TRUTH.
There is no response out of Parkwood. His face is blank, finding himself incapable of reacting to this latest development. Robin suddenly wishes she hadn’t gotten into the ring when she sees this ominous blank stare.
Robin: Tell me your not buying this? It’s just a trick. He FORCED Holmes to say that. You heard him, he BEAT Holmes, REPEATEDLY. He could have gotten him to confess to being the Queen of England. His confession is inadmissible.
Hurse: Why?
Robin, for the first time in a very long time, shuts her mouth. She scrambles for an explanation.
Brooks: I…..I…..I needed you.
The pretenses are dropped the moment Hurse reaches out, grabs her stomach and rips it off. The fake pregnancy tummy hangs from Hurse’s hand, the Master of Control examining it without the slightest semblance of emotion.
Now that her plan has been crumbled Robin tries to be earnest. She reaches out to touch his forearm only to have Hurse slap her hands away and throw down the stomach. He turns his back on Brooks in the process of storming out of the ring.
Robin: Don’t you walk away from me, come back here right now!
Her voice is deepened by her outrage. No matter what decibel her tone may be Hurse no longer answers to it. He walks up the ramp with head lowered and tears forming behind his eyes. After living in denial for so long he was finally forced to accept the cold, hard, unbearable, soul shattering truth.
Brooks: COME BACK…..
He keeps walking,
Robin: Please.
FUCKED
The pacing Porno Lad rambles on and on with an endless stream of consciousness. Every little thought that pops into his head is expressed verbally, and Kitty Buehler is forced to sit back and listen. She blows a strand of hair from her face as the rant proceeds, looking down at the very floor that Porno Lad is working a grove through.
Porno Lad: How could that son of a bitch….it’s ruined….it’s all fucked in the ass….
Porno Lad punches the air wildly.
Porno Lad: Paranoia was supposed to be MY show, MY moment…..It was all sssssooooo perfect and now it’s fucked, totally, totally ass FUCKED!
The angry Prankster kicks the waste basket in his lockeroom over before throwing his hands up into the air.
Porno Lad: What the hell was he thinking, huh? Orlando Cruze effectively killed the pay-per-view buyrates by not giving me a straight up one on one match for the World Title. Nooooo, that be too simple, that be too logical. He had to go and put me in two, TWO matches for the Championship, and I have to face Christian Savior of all people. Wait, that’s who’s fault this is….
Kitty: To whom are you referring?
Porno Lad: Christian, Christian F’N Savior. He’s the one who made that challenge earlier tonight, and he hit me in the head with a chair, BLATANTLY. He’s probably been conspiring with Orlando Cruze this whole time to ruin my Paranoia.
Kitty: Do you even realize how crazy you sound right now?
Porno Lad: Excuse me? Can’t you be a little more sympathetic? My Paranoia, my perfect, PERFECT Paranoia was raped tonight. Christian Savior, Jake Starr, Jason Zero and Orlando Cruze bent it over the kitchen table and ran a train on its ass. Do you have any idea how it feels having someone ruin your perfect plans?
Kitty: Ummm, yeah, I do.
Porno Lad goes on mumbling to himself, his words now incomprehensible.
Kitty: Are we forgetting what happened last week?
Porno Lad: Of course not, I remember the whole God damn travesty….
Kitty is pleased to hear Ethan admit when he was wrong, as he clearly refers to his interference in her match last week in spite of her pleas for him to not get involved.
Porno Lad: I had the Championship in my hand before Zero came out and STOLE it from me.
Kitty: That’s not what I was talking about.
Porno Lad: What else is there to talk about? Quit changing the subject. Nothing is more important than my perfect Paranoia….
Kitty: Yeah, you’ve made that crystal clear.
She rises from the sofa and takes a deep breath, trying to think up a way to broach a very difficult subject.
Kitty: Listen Ethan, I’ve tried….lord knows how I’ve tried….but I just can’t take it anymore.
Porno Lad: Jason Zero, what kind of name is that anyway? It has no panache, no charisma whatso….what now?
Kitty: I’m tired of it Ethan….I….I….I just can’t handle this insanity.
Porno Lad: What are you talking about? Out with it. Spill your guts woman.
Kitty: It’s obvious that your “perfect Paranoia” means more to you than I do. It’s all you talk about night and day, even in the middle of….well, you know. Your letting it consume your whole life, and get in the way of what really matters…..us.
Porno Lad grunts and grimaces.
Porno Lad: Kitty, I really don’t need you going menstrual on me right now, I have enough to worry about. Just take twenty bucks out of my fanny pack and buy yourself some jumbo tampons or something.
Kitty: I’m leaving Ethan.
Porno Lad: Good, while you’re out get me some Tylenol. That chair shot earlier has given me a major headache.
Kitty: That’s not what I meant.
Porno Lad: Clarify yourself then.
Kitty: I think we need some time apart, at least until we can clear our heads.
She pats him on the shoulder and tries to walk away before her wrist is caught in Porno Lad’s clutches.
Porno Lad: Whoa, whoa, whoa….time apart….what are you blabbering about?
Kitty: Thank you for pretending to care Ethan, but I know your way more concerned with the World Title than this relationship.
She goes to leave but he keeps hold of her wrist.
Porno Lad: Where are you going?
Kitty: To wrestle, and hopefully you’ll butt out of it this time.
Porno Lad: But you can’t. You can’t leave me. I need you, now more than ever.
Kitty: Really?
Porno Lad: Yeah. Part of my perfect Paranoia included your sexy ass being at ringside. I need a beautiful valet to help me stand out even more.
Kitty: That’s it?
Porno Lad: Well there are other reasons too.
Kitty: Let go of me, Ethan.
Porno Lad: But you can’t go.
Kitty: I just need some time to think. Give me some space.
Her wrist is tore from Porno Lad’s clutches and she marches out of the dressing room. A despondent Porno Lad watches her leave, his lips trembling. His downward spiral continues.
Katelyn: Hey sexy boy.
As if the Original Prankster didn’t have enough to worry about now he’s spinning around to come face to face with his ex girlfriend. Katelyn Buehler just happened to enter moments after the tension ended between her ex and her sister.
Porno Lad: What now?
Katelyn: Jeez? Bad timing?
Porno Lad: What do you think?
Buehler: I think you’re gonna get a kick out of this. Ethan, allow me to introduce you to the newest member of the Five Star Society, a man who’s just been dying to meet our intrepid leader, the Real Deal, my new dish, Jon Rich.
Jon, now dressed to compete, swaggers towards Porno Lad, arrogant grin on his face and palm extended.
Rich: Pleased to finally meet you, Mr…..Lad.
In spite of all that has gone wrong tonight Porno Lad shows no hesitation in reciprocating the handshake.
Porno Lad: Glad something’s going right tonight.
Jon: Things are always right when I’m around.
Porno Lad: Welcome on board…..heeeeyyy….your in that X-Class Title Gauntlet tonight, correct?
Rich: Yes I am, and I plan on adding some more gold to this fine organization.
Porno Lad: Good, good, I was wondering if you could do me a favor.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
FEAR
An uncharacteristic grin graces the face of Psycho as the Sadistic One stands alongside backstage reporter Michelle Blacker. He wrist is still red from where it was squeezed earlier by AWOL. As she touches the discolored skin she almost orgasms with delight.
Blacker: Psycho, ole’ buddy ole’ pal, I understand that you’ve requested this airtime in order to address comments made earlier tonight by AWOL.
The Sadistic One looses his smile at the mere mention of his former mentor.
Psycho: Partially correct, but like usual you lack the whole truth.
The twisted soul that is the former Cartel Champion tilts his head and glares into the camera, hoping that in someplace, some undisclosed location, AWOL is watching and listening.
Psycho: I wanted…nay…DEMANDED this time for more than just a rebuttal. AWOL, Anthony, the only man I ever let slap this mug ….
He motions to his cheek.
Psycho: I’m here to call your bluff.
The muscles in his cheeks twitch as he tries to grin once again.
Psycho: You claim that you won’t step foot in Hell in a Cell next week because you want Generation Now all on your own, I don’t buy it. I can smell fear. Your terrified AWOL. Beneath your monstrous façade beats the heart of a coward. You know that if you set foot in that cell your path would inevitably cross mine and the results would be disastrous FOR YOU. After all the years you’ve ran from a fight with me, you must realize what will happen when I finally do get my hands around your throat. That’s why you come up with these lame, tired excuses, so you can stay out of my grasp. Well I’m sick of hearing it, I’m sick of your constant bullshit. I’m sick of your trying to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes and mask your true motivations for refusing to fight. I’m gonna reveal you for what you really are, Anthony, a COWARD.
He gives time for the statement to possibly resonate with the Big Crazy Bastard before proceeding.
Psycho: How? Simple. I’m challenging you ONE ON ONE to a match at Paranoia VII. Pupil versus Mentor. A fight three years in the making. So there you have it AWOL. You get exactly what you “claim” to want. No excuses, nothing standing in your way. Although I’m sure some kind of unexpected twist will take place before Paranoia and you’ll find some reason to stay out of the ring with me, which will only prove that everything I’ve said about you is the truth.
The Sadistic One shakes his head as if disgusted.
Psycho: It’s the story of your career, AWOL, you’ve been running from me since day one. You refused to face me in the ring because you knew I’d break you. You refuse to join my generation because you know that I’ll just overshadow you. You broke our mentor, pupil partnership when it became clear that I couldn’t be controlled, and that I was a threat to your legacy. But what will you do now, there’s nowhere else to run? You’ll either have to accept my challenge at Paranoia VII, or you’ll have to show the whole world what you are.
The camera zooms in on the incredibly intense gaze of the Sadist.
X-CLASS TITLE GAUNTLET
Mayne: There we have it, another big challenge made for Paranoia VII, will we get Psycho vs. AWOL, or will the Big Crazy Bastard back down from a fight?
Steward: You know he will. For once, I agree with that Freddy Kruger wannabe, AWOL is a coward.
The sound of a wolf howling, or perhaps it is a fox, is heard and the audience quiet down until they hear the words ‘Straying! Straying!’ of Wolf Rain’s ‘Stray’. The lights go everywhere searching for where the pedestal is going to rise. The audience look around too, because they know that it could rise right beside them. The camera picks up where the audience is backing away and focus on it. It sees the platform as it rises while the music continues to play. Standing on the pedestal is one Fox Arcane, X-Class Title over his shoulder. Fox heads towards the ring and leaps the barricade before sliding into the squared circle.
Mayne: Well it’s been a very long night, but it’s gonna be even longer for Fox Arcane. What kind of idiot, simpleton, MORON, puts himself in a gauntlet match for his Championship? Is he like Dustin Hoffman in Rainman?
Steward: No, at the very least Rainman had flashes of brilliance. Arcane on the other hand, the only thing he flashes is his penis at highschool girls.
Mayne: He’s not gonna be very flashy after this match.
Steward: Was that some kind of an attempt at a segway?
Mayne: I’m trying at least. Well, Fox is already one groupie light, now he’s gonna be one title lighter after this show. Where is Medea and Fox’s brother, Wolf Arcane by the way?
Katie: Does it look like I care?
The X-Class Champion is raised above the official’s head then brought back down to his chest after everyone got a glimpse of what’s about to be at stake here tonight. Fox settles in, hunkering down with both palms pressed to his knees. He prepares for what may be the most grueling encounter he’s ever faced, a match that will truly test his capabilities and his standing as a champion.
Mayne: I guess I’ll do the obligatory explaining of the rules to kill time. Two people will start out this match and a new individual will enter every two minutes until everyone has been eliminated by pinfall or submission and the last man standing….
Katie: Or woman….
Billy: Will walk away with the X-Class Title and a half off coupon for Moon’s Over Mihami at the local Denny’s. That’s MY contribution.
Steward: That’ll give them so motivation to win.
Billy: Boy will it ever. Now let’s find out who will be Fox’s FIRST opponent…..
Just as Fox prepares to hear the lyrics of Shaun Cruze’s, or Max Craven’s, or Kitty Buehler’s entrance music….Master of Puppets
The Order Has Fallen.
Now Is The Rise Of A New Kingdom…
Of Chaos’
Welcome to the greatest storm.
I know, I know.
You have waited much too long
And I (And I)
I will be your shining star.
I’m here (I’m here)
You Better conquer fear or run!
Mayne: Douglas is gonna wrestle, in an Armani suit no less? Now that’s style.
Beyond his nice suit Douglas has another article of clothing that draws the attention of many, the IWC Tag Team Title belts, both draped over his forearm.
Dan: You know what, no, just no….
The crowd begins to boo the moment Douglas tries to speak up. He gives them no time to drag his name through the mud, already having been through enough tonight dealing with the implosion of the Five Star Society.
Douglas: I’m not gonna let Orlando Cruze upstage me. Not happening, not by a mile! He isn’t gonna come into MY building and think he calls all the shots. It’s about time everyone was reminded who’s REALLY in control around here, and that’s me. I’m the big daddy, I’m the head honcho, I’m the king of this fucking court and you people WILL respect my authority.
The crowd is amused by Douglas’ attempts to silence their berating chants. He doesn’t succeed.
Dan: If he thinks he’s gonna get away with selling his half of the company to some mysterious new shareholder, then he’s gravely mistaken. And if he thinks he can just barge in here any time he wants and make matches then I’ll be glad to correct him. Just like I’m about to correct this whole Tag Team Title fiasco. That’s right, I can book matches too, and right now I’m booking a battle royal for the vacated….no, no….STRIPPED tag team titles. That’s right, AWOL didn’t relinquish these belts earlier, I’m STRIPPING him of the Championships! Uh-huh, that’s right, I can do that, I can do whatever I want! And what I want is to see Fox Arcane’s silly gauntlet match changed into a battle royal for these belts. Let’s make it happen.
The fans are upset that Douglas made this sudden change in the rules but are intrigued by the prospect of a Tag Team Title battle royal, given the sheer amount of unusual combinations that could emerge with the belts.
Douglas: Last two men left in the ring will be the NEW Tag Team Champions. Now send a member of the Five Star Society out here to pitch Fox Arcane’s ass over the ropes.
A referee retrieves the belts from Douglas who saunters to the backstage area, unscathed by the scathing remarks of the fans.
Mayne: Dan came, he saw, he changed, he made awesome.
Katie: Instead of the X-Class Title gauntlet, this is now a battle royal for the vacant IWC Tag Team Championships. A rare wise decision from Douglas.
TAG TEAM TITLE BATTLE ROYAL
Billy: The word BLOCKBUSTER springs to mind when I try to come up with a word to describe Dan Douglas’ announcement.
Katie: So you think it was obsolete and utterly useless?
Mayne: Not BlockbustERS, blockbuster! Since AWOL forfeited the Tag Team Titles earlier in the night and then hilariously laid Simon Cagero on his ass, Douglas has made this X-Class Gauntlet, a battle royal for the vacant belts. How uber exciting.
Steward: Thanks for boring me with a rehashing of what Douglas said moments ago.
Fox looks on from the ring wide eyed and surprised over this stunning turn of events. His stomach begins to twist with anger, seething over the fact that he will not be able to defend his X-Class Title, but part of him indulges the idea of holding TWO titles simultaneously. His contradictory thoughts are erased the moment that “Unbreakable” hits the PA system, resulting in a mass outcry from an insulted crowd. Through the curtains strolls Jon Rich himself, arms cast out to his sides and a sparkling robe hanging from his body. Katelyn sashays out to his side, one hand on Jon’s shoulder, the other on her hip.
Mayne: Well, Rich won’t have to wait for his Tag Team Title shot. Will the metamorphosis that he’s underwent pay off here tonight with title gold?
Katie: Usually my logic is infallible, but I’m a bit concerned here. How would Katelyn feel if Rich ended up winning this match alongside her sister, Kitty? Would she be happy or upset to see her sister…..
Billy: Smoking hot sister.
Steward: Ha. Like you have a chance Minion. Your last date came with a page of instructions. Now listen, and DON’T interrupt when I’m speculating.
Mayne: My humblest apologies, grand Goddess.
Katie: GRAND? Come up with something better.
Mayne: I’ll work on it.
The crowd is still lambasting both Rich and Katelyn, the most reviled company in all of the IWC. The transformed Rich climbs the stairs to the apron where he pauses and soaks in every heckle. These angry jeers only bring a smile to Rich’s face, one that widens the second Katelyn plants a kiss on his cheek. He slips through the ropes and remains in a corner as his robe is removed by Buehler and thrown over her shoulder. She then exits stage right, leaving her man to face off with Arcane. As Fox and Rich glare at one another they suddenly come to the realization that they may be opponents now, but by the end of this battle royal they could be the IWC Tag Team Champions.
Mayne: Alright Rich, now toss ‘em over. Go ahead, you have my permission.
Their gaze is broken and shifted to the stage when "YOU KNOW MY NAME" explodes throughout the building, leading to an orgasmic reception from the Michigan natives. They lunge from their seats as the recently signed, DEBUTING Shaun Cruze rips through the curtains to the stage. There he pauses and takes in his very first standing ovation, one of many to follow no doubt. He slams his fist against his chest and in Orlando inspired fashion, thrusts his fist high above his head.
Mayne: I sincerely hope that Cruze is ready to meet with the same type of disappointment that his brother faced throughout his entire wrestling career. Mark my words, he WILL NOT leave here tonight with a title belt.
Katie: Thanks, you just jinxed us all. Now it’s pretty much a guarantee he’s going to win the belt considering your wrong each and every time you speculate on ANYTHING.
Billy: That’s not true, I said we make a great commentary team and I was right about that.
Steward: Well, you were partially correct so I’ll give you SOME credit, because I am a great commentator, you on the other hand….welllllll….
Mayne: I take offense to you…..HELLO!
As Shaun embraces his new role he’s suddenly blindsided from behind by simultaneous forearm shots. Max Craven and Jackson Adams step to the stage where Shaun is now lying and immediately put the boots to him. The reaction from the crowd changes from overwhelmingly positive to downright negative within seconds of this attack.
Mayne: Generation Now just hit the fans with a dose of Midol. They’re ASSAULTING Shaun Cruze before he could even get to the ring. What a debut, hahahaha.
Katie: I’ve seen worse. The name “Shockmaster” springs to mind.
Mayne: You just gave me shivers.
Adams and Craven are merciless as they brutalize the individual who slighted them backstage. They make him suffer for coming to the aid of his brother. Despite his best attempts to fight back the numbers game is just too much. Craven leads Shaun towards the ring with ease and then shoots a half nelson, Jackson doing the same with the other arm. The Generation Now members rush Shaun across the mats and SLAM him face first into the exposed turnbuckle post with force. Shaun goes twisting and spilling onto the mats, eyes rolling to the back of his head in the process.
Mayne: A CONCUSSING blow delivered by Adams, Craven and the turnbuckle post.
Steward: Three inanimate objects working as one to bring the newest Cruze to his knees.
The collision with the turnbuckle has left Shaun almost completely incapacitated. His eyes roll to the back of his head and drool begins to seep from the corner of his mouth. The referee checks on his condition while the sneering Adams backs away, Craven SHOUTING repulsive remarks at the new Icon.
Meanwhile, inside of the ring Fox is watching this all go down, wondering whether he should be pleased or angered that one of his opponents have been taken out. Before he can reach a decision he too suffers an ambush, Rich rushing in behind him, grabbing the back of his head and tossing him over the ropes.
Mayne: And Arcane is GONE!
Katie: Spoke too soon, AGAIN.
Instead of going to the mats, Fox lands on the apron, holding the top rope with both palms tightly locked. Rich is already celebrating like he’s won the tag team title, stepping to the center of the ring and running his hands over his stomach. He has no idea that Arcane is still in this match and now springing to the turnbuckle behind him before it’s too late. Arcane launches himself through the air and delivers a front dropkick right to Rich’s kidneys. The collision sends Jon barreling forward like he were shot out of a cannon. He eventually spills through the ropes and plummets to the mats right at Katelyn’s feet.
Steward: Is he ELIMINATED ALREADY!?! Way to represent the Five Star Society, JOOOON!
Mayne: No, he went THROUGH the ropes, not over them.
Katie: Oh, thank Goddess for technicalities.
Rich sits up speechless over his elimination only for Katelyn to reassure him that he’s still legal. The X-Class Champion rises to his feet in the ring, adapting and adapting quickly to the changes just made in the stipulations. He’s focused on Rich until his attention shifts to the smirk on Jackson’s face. That’s when it dawns on Arcane that he’s surrounded, Max stepping to one side of the ring and Jackson the other.
Mayne: And Generation Now has Arcane fixed in their sights. They may just take him out as quickly as they took out Shaun Cruze. And by take out, I don’t mean dolling Arcane up and hitting the Taco Bell drive thru.
Katie: That’s your idea of taking someone out?
Billy: Sure.
Steward: Hmmm, no wonder you’ve got calluses on your hands from your last date.
Arcane pivots back and forth, eyes shifting from one foe to another, unsure who is going to make the first move. Jackson finally slips through the ropes, forcing Arcane to rush at him and cut him off with clubbing blows over the back. Unfortunately he exposes his back to Craven, who rushes in and quickly takes advantage. He hits a double arm sledge to the upper back, knocking Arcane forward into the ropes.
Billy: Now we’re seeing the benefits of having friends in a battle royal. Generation Now has a numbers advantage and it just might bring them the Tag Team Titles.
Arcane tries feebly to cover up as he’s stomped and clubbed by both Adams and Craven. He’s finally turned and forced ribs first into the ropes. Both men now grab his legs, lifting them into the air and trying to force the X-Class Champion over. Despite his firm grasp on the ropes it seems only a matter of time before Generation Now officially eliminates Arcane. That’s until….
PULL THE TRIGGER!!!!!
….rips through the speakers and gets the crowd into an emotional frenzy. The IWC newcomer Billy Mitchell rushes down the ramp and slides into the ring without delay. Before Adams is even clued into his presence he’s taken by the shoulder, spun around, kicked to the ribs and then hit with a devastating kick to the temple. The strikes take Jackson down, leaving Max all on his own as he tries to fend off the raging country boy.
Mayne: Wha…wha….why is Mitchell SAVING Arcane? What’s the deal with these two? Are they best buds on Facebook or something?
Katie: Well, they both like the ladies, and that’s pretty much the only characteristic they share. Oh and yeah, they both suck too, so that’s another similar characteristic.
Billy: Just when I was starting to gain respect for Mitchell he goes and screws it all up by trying to do something noble. YUCK.
Max throws a punch that is blocked by Mitchell, who responds with an elbow driven straight to the top of Craven’s skull. The Gen Now member is knocked to the ring thanks to the classic bionic elbow from the quintessential BAD boy.
As this action continues Jon watches from the outside of the ring, crouched behind the apron, waiting for just the right time to get back into the match. Katelyn whispers into his ear, telling him when the best opportunity presents itself. Jackson pulls himself up onto his seat in the corner, an unfortunate position that Billy takes quick advantage of. He charges in and drives his knee directly against Jackson’s face with all the momentum he could muster.
Mitchell’s onslaught seems unyielding, nobody, NOTHING able to stand between him and victory. He seems more focused than ever up until his eyes meet with Arcane’s. Fox and Billy exchange a tentative glare.
Mayne: Okay…..now fight each other. Well come on!
Katie: You heard my Minion, FIGHT!
Although their fists are clinched, they aren’t flying. Fox recognizes the fact that Billy just spared him from being eliminated. Suddenly Kitty Buehler’s entrance music hits the PA system to a mixed reaction from the crowd. She soon graces everyone with her lovely presence. Although she looks a bit conflicted about what happened backstage she tries to remain focused on her way towards the ring. Arcane and Mitchell are both thrown off at the striking image of Kitty Buehler, who comes strolling towards the ring without any sort of trepidation whatsoever. Although two of the most imposing physical specimens wait in the ring she fails to hesitate. She slides right into the ring and steps towards them, fists pressed to her hips, refusing to back down. Billy and Fox exchange a glance then a grin as Kitty stands up to them.
Mayne: Hahahaha, now your gonna pay Fox, your gonna pay dearly for besmirching the Five Star Society. Get in there Kitty and show him who’s the boss. And no, not Tony Danza, although I do love Tony Danza, just as much as I love obscure Tony Danza references at inopportune times.
Steward: Don’t we all. But if Kitty truly is gonna distance herself from Porno Lad then she had better start earning the respect of the rest of the Five Star Society members, otherwise she’s gonna find herself without a place in MY world.
Billy’s actions are eerily familiar as he the particular cold newcomer takes Kitty’s hand and forces it into his own. He slowly lifts the hand into the air and puckers his lips, about to place a kiss on her knuckles. That’s when he spots Fox doing the exact same thing with the opposite arm. He draws her hand to his lips and plants a kiss there, causing Mitchell to frown. For a second Kitty feigns delight over all this attention before she rips her hands out of their clutches and delivers simultaneous slaps to both their cheeks.
Mayne: Hahahaha, YEAH Kitty, show them your two good for the likes of them.
Katie: Stacy Kissinger is even too good for the likes of them.
Billy: I think that was your millionth shot at Stacy Kissinger.
Katie: Millionth? That few? I need to work on that.
The slaps leave both men momentarily dazed with Billy being the first to snap out of it. Without delay he delivers a straight right hand to Kitty’s pristine jaw, knocking her to the canvas. He simply shakes his knuckles and shows not an inkling of remorse. Fox grabs him by the shoulder and spins him around so their eye to eye, asking him what he’s thinking. Their minds meet but not by way of conversation, it’s thanks to a Jon Rich forearm that knocks Mitchell skull first into Fox’s face. Arcane hits the canvas and spills under the ropes to the apron while Mitchell staggers back into a Russian Leg Sweep from Mr. Rich.
Mayne: And Rich gets back in the ring where he DOMINATES!
Steward: He’s finally starting to live up to his Five Star potential.
Katelyn whistles loudly outside of the ring, having zero effect on the fans, doing nothing to sway them from their dismay. Rich stands up and scrapes his heel across Mitchell’s forehead, digging the tread into his flesh. He then snatches Mitchell by the back of the head and leads him up to his feet before throwing him into the ropes. Mitchell hangs onto the cables, careful not to go over. Jon is just about to send him crashing to the outside before…. “Romance” by Apocalyptica descends on the ears of all those watching from around the world. Ackart emerges from the back and spends absolutely no time showing off, instead he bolts straight down the ramp. Daniel slides into the ring and without a moment’s hesitation delivers a thrust kick on the jaw of an inbound Rich, knocking his legs out from under him.
Billy: That two bit commentator, Daniel Ackart taking out Rich with a superkick right off the bat. What the hell is he smoking? You don’t attack the Five Star Society, they attack you, and you had better be damn glad they gave you the time of the day.
Katie: For once, as vomit inducing as it may be to admit, I agree with you.
Ackart does not refrain from fighting nor taunting. He does an immediate crotch chop towards Rich and then follows it up with yet another crotch chop in Katelyn’s direction. Her face twists with repulsion at the sight of Daniel’s juvenile antics. She then barks at Rich to stand up and defend her honor against such a hooligan.
Jon is still down and suffering that surprising superkick and Daniel takes position to ensure he won’t be the last. Adams is standing up with the use of the ropes and slowly rotating towards Ackart, who’s foot lunges towards Jackson’s face. The Generation Now ducks the foot, steps behind Daniel and grabs him by the back of the head, charging the controversial competitor towards the ropes on the verge of pitching him over.
Daniel grabs the top rope with both hands though and then leaps to the middle cable. He springs off, twists and hits a clothesline right on Jackson’s throat, knocking him down to the canvas. Ackart then ducks down into a forward roll and dives out of it into a forearm strike to a now upright Craven’s skull. As soon as Max’s back hits the canvas Ackart nips to his feet and vies another crotch chop towards his vanquished foe.
Mayne: And he took out both members of Generation Now! Not that that’s a bad thing considering how much I revile Jackson Adams, but I don’t like to see Ackart succeed at ANYTHING. The thought makes my hair fall out.
Katie: And believe me, at your age, you can’t afford to loose anymore hair. That spray paint isn’t fooling anyone by the way Minion.
Mayne: It’s magic marker actually, and I think it hides by bald spots quite nicely thank you.
Daniel continues to unload with the offense and the derogatory gestures. His sights are now set on Kitty, who is using the ropes to reach her feet. Her rear end is raised into the air and aimed straight towards a winking Ackart. An oh so sinister grin forms on his face as he approaches Kitty’s perfectly placed posterior.
Billy: Oh no, oh no, you stay away from her! She’s a good Christian, God fearing woman. Don’t you sully her good name.
Katie: She has the last name BUEHLER, I think her name couldn’t be anymore sullied.
Ackart licks his lips as he slides his hands onto Kitty’s hips and begins to pull his posture towards his grinding hips. The crowd is delighted by this stimulating visual before being turned off by the mule kick that Kitty delivers right to Ackart’s engorged genitalia. He bends forward grabbing at his crotch as Kitty spins around and delivers a kick directly to his chin.
Mayne: God give her leg strength.
Katie: Since when did you start believing in a God instead of THIS Goddess?
Mayne: Since it presented me with the perfect opportunity to get into Kitty’s under britches.
Steward: Of course, it WOULD take a miracle for you to get in Kitty’s pants.
Ackart’s dropped jaw is kicked shut as he collapses to his back, agonizing over his injuries. Kitty then comes charging in at a recovered Mitchell, who lobs a lariat at her throat. Kitty ducks it though, catches Mitchell by the crease of his elbow and then throws herself around his body. She makes a full revolution before locking her legs around Mitchell’s neck and throwing him forward with a head scissors.
Mitchell is thrown skull first into the turnbuckle, his head ramming the second pad. He bounces off, turns and finds himself caught in Kitty’s clutches. She eagerly charges him towards the ropes and prepares to toss him over.
Mayne: Kitty is about to eliminate someone, and it’s the undefeated Billy Mitchell. You go girl! If you win we’ll get together and watch Bible-Man.
Kitty grins, realizing she’s about to silence her detractors, husband included, by tossing Billy to the outside. That’s before he shoves her off, sending her spiraling into the ropes. She ricochets off and comes staging back into the boot of Mitchell, he kicks her to the gut, doubling her over and then delivers the Silver Bullet.
Billy: NOOOOO, a stunner on that poor, lovely head of Kitty Buehler. It really should have a halo above it.
Katie: And mine should have a beautiful, jewel encrusted crown above it.
Kitty is on the canvas convalescing at this point while Mitchell struggles to his feet, turning just as Craven and Adams interlock hands and come rushing in behind him. Billy turns and gets laid out with a stereo lariat, putting him on his back.
Shortly after delivering the stereo lariat Craven pounces on Shaun Cruze, who is in the process of refusing medical treatment and climbing up onto the apron. His determination to enter this match is undone by the running knee strike that Craven delivers, knocking him right back down to the outside mats.
Mayne: Generation Now making sure Orlando doesn’t get in there and stink up the match.
Katie: At least their good for something, which means they now have nothing in common with you.
Shaun lies stretched over the mats, an absent gleam inhabiting his eyes as some EMTs check on his condition, the New Icon possibly concussed via his impact with the turnbuckle post. As Shaun’s condition continues to be a source of concern outside of the ring, inside the squared circle Fox Arcane now finds himself in a very precarious predicament. He utilizes the ropes to reach his feet, back propped against them as Craven and Adams interlock hands and rush in for another stereo lariat.
Suddenly Arcane launches his feet into the air, driving them both into Jackson’s and Max’s faces. The collision sends him flipping back over the ropes and landing on the apron. A recovered Ackart tries to take advantage, rushing in only for the X-Class Champion to leap into the air and catch him to the forehead with a brutal shin kick. The strike sends him stumbling back into the waiting clutches of Rich.
Jon grabs hold of Ackart’s arms, locks them around his neck and sets up for the Get Rich Quick. Unfortunately for Rich, he got a little too big for his britches. Ackart spins out of the cobra clutch, turns to Jon’s back, snatches him by the hair and rushes him across the ring before throwing him over the ropes. All seems lost for Rich until he grabs the top rope and wraps himself around it, upper body dangling over the apron, legs kicking above the ring.
Ackart steps in and grabs his shin, lifting up on it, intent on pushing him over and sending him crashing to the mats.
Mayne: Hang in there Jon, hang in there like your career depended on it. Which it may very well considering the Five Star Society does not allow losses.
Rich begins to slip, hands loosing their grip on the ropes. It’s at this point that Katelyn rushes to her boyfriend’s aid. She leaps to the apron, lies on her back and sticks her feet up into the air, wedging them to Jon’s shoulder.
Billy: Look at Katelyn, she’s as genius as she is sexy.
Katie: For once she’s lying on her back to help someone instead of for her pleasure.
The crowd erupts into a wave of unanimous anger at the image of the Five Star Society’s treacherous tactics. Ackart, a proud representative of the MOUSA is intent on putting out the FSS’s newest poster boy. That is until Generation Now’s, Adams, delivers a forearm strike right between his kidneys, shutting Ackart down and bringing him to a knee.
Adams begins to pull Ackart to his feet to put him over the ropes and eliminate him before he spots Cruze yet again climbing up to the apron against EMT orders. This time Shaun has reached his feet before Jackson nails him with a running back elbow to the skull that puts him right back down on the outside mats.
Mayne: There we go, keep him out of the ring and save us all the grief of another boring Cruze match.
Katie: The only thing more boring than watching a Cruze wrestle is listening to one speak. Actually no, there’s something even more boring than a Cruze monologue, YOU!
Jackson turns his focus back to Ackart who is once again trying to force Rich over the ropes, this time using his shoulders to do so. He basically has Rich in a fireman’s carry as he attempts to push him to the outside and send him plummeting to his eventual elimination. Katelyn continues to aid her man though, using all her leg strength to keep him elevated above the apron.
Finally Ackart pulls Jon down to his feet and decks him across the face, then does so again. The shots have Rich all discombobulated, barely able to maintain his footing. With a grip on the wrist Daniel whips Rich towards a ropes that Fox Arcane is still standing on the opposite side of it. Fox suddenly flips forward over the cables and lands with his legs stretched over Rich’s shoulders, going for a head scissors take over.
Somehow Jon buries his feet to the canvas though and employs all of his strength to lift Arcane up to his shoulders in a powerbomb position. He then turns towards Daniel, who rushes in, fist clinched and retracted. Rich puts his hands to the back of Fox’s thighs and shoves him up into the air, causing Arcane to flip backwards into a moonsault that sends him crashing into Ackart’s shoulder. Both men hit the canvas to a roar from the audience.
Mayne: Rich BRILLIANTLY using his opponents against one another. Why do I feel so dirty for all of a sudden associating the word “brilliant” with Jon Rich?
Katie: It could be the fact that you’ve wasted much your career verbally bashing him.
Mayne: Oh yes, hypocrisy, that’s it.
Katie: And it’s what your best at.
The X-Class Champion begins to recover, forcing himself up only to be cut off while he’s still stooped forward. Rich steps over his neck, hooks both arms around his waist then heaves him up into another powerbomb position. He then rushes towards the ropes, intent on eliminating Arcane in the most dramatic fashion possible. However, Arcane wedges his hands to the top of Rich’s head, pushes himself over and lands on his feet right behind the FSS member.
Jon keeps rushing forward and runs right into a leaping knee strike to the jaw from one “Bad” Billy Mitchell.
The stiff strike causes Rich to stagger back, eyes rolling around in his head. He slowly twists towards Arcane who is rushing in with a lariat in store for his opposition. Arcane got ahead of himself though, unable to stop once he realizes that Rich was playing possum. He catches Fox around the waist, drops back and belly to belly suplexes him right into Mitchell.
Arcane crashes into the undefeated newcomer and both men’s bodies hit the canvas as a result. As the competitors crash the fans rush to their feet, erupting over that surprising maneuver.
Mayne: X-Class style action on display in this battle royal, and if there’s one man who defines X-Class greatness, it’s Jon Rich.
Steward: Please remove your lips from his anus.
Billy: Okay, can I put them on yours? Hehehehehe.
Steward: If only assisted suicide were legal.
The fans are still standing, some slapping the barricades, others stomping their feet, everyone riled up by this adrenaline surge of excitement. As the bodies continue to pile up Jackson and Craven add to the mass casualties. They now have Ackart cornered, both men delivering stomps to his mid-section and delivering chops across his sternum.
The Generation Now reps bend forward and wedge their shoulders beneath the creases of his knees, trying to heave him up and over the ropes. Ackart is holding on for all he’s worth though, both hands gripping the cables as tightly as they can before his fingers snap.
He finally puts a fist right between Jackson’s eyes, and then gives Craven the same treatment. Both men stagger back and Daniel falls to the safety of the canvas. That safety soon becomes a hazard when Max comes charging in only to swallow Ackart’s raised boot. He stumbles back and now it’s Jackson who takes up the Generation Now cause, rushing towards Daniel. He receives a boot to the face for his troubles as well, the blow sending him staggering back and joining Craven shoulder to shoulder.
Daniel jumps back to the second rope and then launches himself out of the corner into a stereo lariat. However, both Adams and Craven simultaneously duck, causing Daniel to land on his feet with nothing to show for his efforts. He spins around to face his Gen Now opponents, both men occupying the corner he just leapt from. The crowd pops as Ackart rushes at them only for Craven and Jackson to lift their feet into the air, driving their boots into Daniel’s forehead.
Ackart staggers back, receiving a taste of his own medicine. He swipes his palms down his face, trying to shake off the blows his skull just withstood. It’s at this point that Craven comes rushing out of the corner only to be kicked to the gut and doubled over. Ackart catching him off guard with a front chancery set up to the Classic Conflict. Just as Daniel begins to heave Craven into the air and deliver his inverted DDT, Jackson races to his partner’s aid only to be caught across the sternum.
The crowd goes nuts as Ackart drops to one knee, hitting a modified jaw breaker on Adams, driving his chin into his shoulder, and pulling Craven’s face down into his raised knee.
Mayne: What the hell was that!?! If I don’t know what to call it, then I don’t like it.
Katie: Which means you must hate EVERYTHING.
Billy: Untrue, I still worship you.
Steward: Yes, under the penalty of beheading should you not. Although, beheading you wouldn’t be that much of a punishment, in fact, it would probably be an improvement.
After suffering these jarring blows to the head both Adams and Craven stumble back into the ropes, propping themselves up. They barely have time to recover from this onslaught before Ackart comes racing in to take advantage. He builds up a head of steam that sends him racing right into the clutches of his opponents and flying straight over the ropes to the outside mats.
Mayne: Generation Now has just eliminated Daniel Ackart! Hahahahaha, this truly is a wonderful, wonderful day. It’s like Christmas and a Bar Mitzvah both rolled into one.
Katie: I think it might be impossible to roll Christmas and a Bar Mitzvah into together. And if you tried, I’m sure someone would sue.
The fans feel like filing a lawsuit as Ackart has officially been eliminated from this Tag Title battle royal. He looks none too thrilled by what’s occurred, rolling to his knees and slapping the mats with both palms. Smirks inhabit the faces of Craven and Adams, the two greatly enjoying their handiwork. Their smiles fade the second that they are grabbed around the thighs and sent crashing over the ropes thanks to Kitty Buehler.
Mayne: Their both gon….no wait, their holding on.
To the dismay of the audience Jackson and Craven are still gripping the ropes, both men landing on the apron and sparing themselves the humiliation of elimination. Kitty finally realizes that her attempts to rid this match of Gen Now hasn’t paid off, her head spinning around like she were Linda Blair on the verge of vomiting green pea soup. Before she can complete her task her attention shifts to a recovered Rich. The two make eye contact and the Five Star Society bond takes hold. They rush at Adams and Craven, fists clinched and retracted.
They’re on the verge of nailing them with rights only to have both members of Gen Now above their strikes. Jackson gets his arm up and blocks Jon’s punch while Kitty is hit with a shoulder block from Craven to the ribs. Adams gouges Rich’s eyes, causing him to stumble back towards Kitty, the two bumping into one another as a result.
Mayne: Dammit, every time I start to open my heart back up to Jackson Adams and let him back in he goes and pulls a move like that, intentionally hurting the Five Star Society. Why can’t Generation Now and the FSS just work together?
Katie: US work with those TOOLS? Ha! There’s only so much damage one’s reputation can suffer.
Craven and Adams simultaneously leap to the top rope, both men taking off and taking flight towards the Five Star Society representatives. Suddenly Kitty and Rich drop to their knees and deliver stereo Atomic drops. Jackson jumps back as does Max, the two gripping at their damaged genitals. They barely have time to react before their being Irish whipped right into stereo dropkicks from Fox Arcane and Bad Billy Mitchell.
Mayne: Now everyone is ganging up on Generation Now, I love it, I think.
Steward: Your indecisiveness irks me to no ends.
The X-Class Champion and the remorseless Mitchell reach their feet, the two exchanging a quick glance before they throw aside their tensions in favor of working as a team. They turn their focus towards the inbound Buehler and Rich, beginning to exchange strikes with one another.
Mitchell and Buehler pear off while Arcane and Rich pick up where they left off in the early goings of this battle royal. Finally Rich delivers a knee to Fox’s ribs, then yanks him by his wrist into his shoulders, putting the prone X-Class Champion in a fireman’s carry. He motions to the ropes, stepping towards them sideways and preparing to deliver a death valley driver that would send Arcane crashing to the mats where he would finally be eliminated.
Fox reaches out and grabs the top rope, refusing to be inched any closer to it and frantically kicking his legs as he attempts to squirm free.
Mitchell suddenly kicks Kitty to the ribs, doubles her over, grabs the back of her head and charges her shoulder first right into Rich’s ribs. The impact causes him to drop Fox behind his back where Arcane quickly goes to work. He wedges a shoulder to Jon’s spine and then back drops him right over the cables. Rich is sent flipping over but landing on the apron somehow, grabbing the top rope to stabilize himself.
Katelyn blows on his spine from behind, in contrast to another area of his anatomy she’s been blowing quite frequently. She hopes the wind pressure will keep him on the apron, Rich planting his feet and finally standing upright. This is just as Mitchell takes Kitty by the back of the head and again tries to use her as a battering ram. He charges her towards Rich only to have Kitty side step and instead push him along into her waiting accomplice. Rich leaps over the top rope at the inbound Mitchell, catches him by the back of the head and delivers a code breaker.
Mayne: Ooooooooh yeeeeeaaah!
Katie: Save the Macho Man impersonations for someone who truly is macho.
Mitchell stands up looking brain dead just as Kitty delivers a spinning heel kick right to the back of his skull. The stiff blow sends him staggering forward into the ropes and spilling over them….to the apron. The crowd takes a collective gasp as Mitchell ends up just shy of being eliminated. Arcane watches on, wondering whether he should care or not. Instead of giving it any further thought he abandons logic for violence, rushing at the still kneeling Kitty. She suddenly stands up and then flips forward, her heel connecting right to Fox’s face.
The strike knocks him to the canvas with Kitty sitting up beside him.
Mayne: Kitty continues to blow me away. Now if I can get her to literally blow me.
Katie: Again, it would take a miracle, and I’m not giving them out all willy nilly anymore.
Katelyn is loving what she’s seeing from the outside of the ring as her boyfriend and sister work as one to secure the IWC Tag Team Titles for the Five Star Society. Kitty now screams for Rich who answers the call. He positions himself to catch the inbound Kitty with a hip toss that sends her flipping forward into almost a 450 splash right across the ribs of Arcane. The crowd cannot help but to pop over such a dazzling tag team maneuver, but the two aren’t done yet.
From her knees Kitty drops into a backwards roll, Jon reaching down to catch her around the waist. He heaves her up into a wheel barrow, getting her all the way onto his shoulder before he turns his back on the X-Class Champion. He then pushes her the rest of the way over into a moonsault right across his sternum.
Mayne: Did ya see that Katie? What your looking at are the soon to be IWC Tag Team Champions.
As Kitty and Rich continue to dazzle with their tag team moves, on the opposite side of the ring Shaun Cruze is heroically trying to re-enter the ring. It takes every ounce of strength but he pulls himself up onto the apron only for Max to cut him off. The kneeling Craven punches through the ropes, his fist drilling Shaun right between the eyes and once again knocking him to the outside.
Kitty stands up to celebrate her superb tag team moves when Jackson steps in behind her, traps the arms and spins her around, setting up for the unprettier. However, Rich rushes to her aid. He grabs her by the belt and pulls her out of the unprettier spine first into his shoulder. He now lifts her up into the air and rushes forward, Kitty putting both of her boots directly into Jackson’s face.
Adams spins around just as Kitty delivers the fatal kick that puts him on his back. It’s at this point that Rich spins around with a celebrating Kitty still on top of his shoulder and then throws her over the ropes to the outside of the ring.
Mayne: WHAAAAAT!?! Jon Rich….he….he he he he he just eliminated Kitty from the battle royal! I thought they were working as a team.
Katelyn watches on wide eyed and jaw dropped, in disbelief that her boyfriend has just eliminated her sister. Jon supplies some answers to alleviate the confusion over his actions. He shouts over the ropes at the seated Kitty, who is still reeling from what transpired.
Jon: No one questions Porno Lad or the Five Star Society initiative Kitty, not even you. If you have a problem with what I did, take it up with your husband.
Kitty goes from shocked to enraged in 0.5 seconds. Her whole body goes blood red, realizing that Jon was acting on orders from her own husband, Porno Lad.
Mayne: So wait wait wait wait, Jon Rich eliminated Kitty Buehler on orders from Porno Lad? Why? How is that going to fix anything in the relationship between Kitty and Porno Lad?
Katie: I’m so sick of trying to understand this whole sordid Spanish soap opera called Riot!
Before Rich can answer any further questions his attention deviates to the inbound Adams. He turns and pops Jackson across the jaw, knocking him backwards across the ring with each shot. He then turns towards Craven and catches him under the jaw with a straight right hand as well that sends him spiraling into the ropes.
Billy: Although I’m conflicted, I guess what Rich did was for the good of the Five Star Society. And eliminating Craven and Adams from this battle royal will be REALLY good for the FSS. Talk about a momentum builder headed into the Hell in a Cell next week.
Jon delivers a Dusty Rhodes inspired bionic elbow to Adams’ head before shifting his focus towards Craven, giving him the very same treatment. He then delivers a swift knife edge chop to Adams’ sternum and follows it up with the same blow on Craven.
Mayne: He’s got ‘em reeling, now go in for the kill.
Clearly Rich and Mayne had the same idea, and it wasn’t how hot Katelyn looked at ringside. Jon grabs hold of Craven’s head and Jackson’s, leading them both by their necks towards the ropes on the verge of sending them flying over. Just before they can be sent for a plunge Craven delivers a reverse elbow right on point to Jon’s mid-section, bending him over. All the air has been knocked from his lungs and he finds himself stooped in perfect position for the simultaneous thrust kicks that connect to both sides of his skull.
Jon stands up looking as if he’s been on a three week drinking bender. His eyes roll to the back of his sockets and he staggers around helpless against his enemies. Jackson swoops in behind him, grabs his shoulder, spins him around and hooks both arms. He hoists Rich up for the angel’s wings into the cutter when he’s suddenly blasted to the back of the head with a forearm from Mitchell.
Katie: For once in his life, Billy Mitchell was useful.
Rich drops to his feet, spins out of the double under and goes for a thrust kick of his own. Jackson ducks it and the boot cracks Mitchell right in the jaw, putting him on his back. An apathetic Rich overlooks his handiwork, stooping over Mitchell then turning back to more pressing matters. Jackson rushes in for the lariat, but Jon ducks just in time.
As a result Jackson’s momentum carries him into the ropes, hitting them spine first. Rich is now the one who goes for a clothesline, one that would surely put the Generation Now member on the outside.
As Rich did moments ago Jackson ducks his head at the opportune time and avoids the lariat. Once again momentum carries Rich’s body through and he finds his back pinned to the ropes. As he prepares to step out of this precarious position, Jackson drops to all fours in front of him and his partner Max launches himself off his back.
Craven utilizes Adams as a stepping stool to deliver a dropkick that nails Rich right in the jaw. He falls back into the ropes just as Kitty leaps to the apron and yanks down on them, forcing Jon to flip over and crash to the outside mats.
Mayne: Ahhh, and Generation Now eliminates Jon Rich, with a little help from that traitorous Kitty Buehler. I hope Porno Lad gets her in line and gets her in line fast. Have her fixed or something.
Katie: I think he already did, apparently she’s been turning him down a lot lately. That’s probably why he had Rich eliminate her from this battle royal.
Katelyn’s jaw hangs to her belly button, shocked and deeply offended yet again. Her own sister just aided in the elimination of her boyfriend. All she can do is continue watching on with shock as Kitty passes by. Buehler can barely bring herself to so much as glance in her sister’s general direction. She just keeps on walking, giving Katelyn the cold shoulder as he makes the long march to the backstage area. Meanwhile Jon Rich is flipping out at ringside.
Buehler snaps from her daze to come to her man, trying to set his nerves at ease, rubbing his chin soothingly.
Mayne: This is awful, just plain awful. All members of the Five Star Society have been eliminated. And worse yet Generation Now were the ones who did the eliminating. They not only took out the Five Star Society, but they took out the Motherfuckin Empire as well. They’ve got all the momentum headed into Hell in a Cell next week.
The tension outside the ring is just as thick inside, where Craven and Adams are celebrating like they’ve already won the IWC Tag Team Titles. Their celebration doesn’t last long as they happen to turn just in time for Arcane to spring from the second rope, twist in mid-air and catch them both with a big crossbody. The fans react with a pop at the sight of Arcane’s high flying daredevilry. The impressive X-Class Champion rolls from the bodies of his victims and reaches his feet just as Craven ascends to his feet.
He rushes in when Max cuts off his momentum with a kick to the ribs. Arcane doubles over and Max takes him by the wrist, shooting him off into the ropes. As Fox prepares to hit them he flips forward, the back of his legs ricocheting from the cables and sending his feet rushing towards the canvas. He builds just enough momentum to go into a full back flip followed by the elbow square to Craven’s sternum.
Max hits the canvas while Fox leaps to his feet.
Katie: Would someone PLEASE stop Arcane already? I’m tired of his jumping bean antics.
The crowd is relishing every blow that Arcane delivers on the dominate Generation Now, especially as the Champion sets his sights on Adams. Jackson is struggling to reach his feet before being slapped to one cheek and hit with a roaring forearm to the other.
Jackson almost loses his footing before Arcane takes the wrist and keeps him upright just long enough to be shot off into the cables. Adams provides a last second counter though, instead sending Arcane into the cables. That’s when Fox does another headstand, the back of his ankles bouncing from the top rope. He flips back again, landing on his feet, elbow hurdling straight towards Jackson’s chest. It connects, with air, Adams catching Fox by the crease of his elbows, twisting him and countering into the unprettier.
Fox’s face explodes against the canvas and his body is sent flipping to it’s back.
Mayne: I’ve gotta give the devil his due. Jackson shifting momentum right back into Generation Now’s court. This is awful, real awful.
Katie: You can say that about Jackson’s face and everything else having to do with the IWC.
Jackson slowly gets to his feet and steps in to aid his tag team partner. As Max stands beside his teammate it looks more and more likely that Generation Now is going to emerge from the match as the Tag Team Champions. The two step towards the sprawled out Mitchell and begin putting the boots to his winded, dreary body.
Mayne: Is anyone gonna stop these two….HEY!
Craven is spun away from Mitchell and finds himself facing an equally as shaken superstar. Despite being banged up Shaun Cruze stands in the center of the ring and delivers a mighty, Orlando-esque European Uppercut right to Max’s jaw. Craven collapses to the canvas with the crowd going nuts. They pop even louder as Shaun takes Jackson by the wrist and yanks him into a short arm clothesline to the throat.
Mayne: I never thought I’d be happy to see a Cruze getting back in the ring, and I’m still not.
Katie: It’s about time Shaun overcame his booboo and finally started earning his paycheck.
The Dearborn crowd is swept up into Shaun’s underdog story, compelled by his rise from the mats and his offense inside of the ring. A European Uppercut drills a now upright Jackson to the jaw, sending him down to the canvas and twisting into the ropes. He falls against the middle cable throat first just as Shaun ricochets from the far ropes, builds some momentum and throws himself hip first into the back of Adams’ head.
The fans are solidly behind Cruze, endorsing his every strike against those who tried, unsuccessfully to take him out before the match. The two regret every blow they delivered to Shaun’s body and Orlando’s confidence, Cruze makes sure of it.
He takes Jackson by the hair, plucking him up to his feet and pointing to the ropes in order to call his shot. The crowd reacts favorably, watching as Shaun rushes Adams across the ring and prepares to pitch him to the outside. Unfortunately Shaun’s one track mind leaves him blinded to Max’s position. He doesn’t see Max rushing into the very ropes he’s charging at and springing from them until it’s too late to avoid the hurricarana. Orlando flips across the ring and crashes to the canvas with force.
Steward: Max with another save. Just give Generation Now the Tag Team Titles, they deserve them if they were able to eliminate Jon Rich.
With Shaun sprawled across his elbows and knees he has little defense against the onslaught of stomps and forearms being delivered to his body. Craven and Jackson remorselessly target his head, perhaps some type of message being sent to the original Icon.
Finally Adams, in an act of utter disrespect, scrapes his heel playfully across Shaun’s brow. He then kicks his forearm out from under him, Shaun collapsing to the canvas. To rub in their superiority, Craven bends down and slaps Shaun on the back of the head.
Adams: Let’s go. You promised us a challenge. Is this the best you’ve got kid?
Jackson takes Shaun under the jaw and lifts his head so that he can see the light in his eyes.
Jackson: Your nothing like your brother.
After delivering this repulsive statement Jackson backs out of the way just in time to avoid the running knee strike that Craven delivers directly to the jaw. Shaun twists to his back, looking dead to the world while Max leaps to the middle rope, protrudes his tongue and raises two fingers high above his head.
Mayne: At least they’re targeting Shaun Cruze. I can care less what happens to Shaun. Actually I do care what happens to him, as long as it’s all bad. Hahahahaha.
Katie: Pathetic.
Finally Shaun’s torture has come to an end, being led to his feet by both Jackson and Craven combined. The Generation Now members have stopped showboating and smack talking, they are now 100% focused on dispatching with the Icon. They have him on his feet, wasting time by jaw jacking straight into his ears. Each man puts a hand on the back of his neck, the perfect position for sending Shaun flying over the ropes.
They charge him straight at the cables, mere seconds from tossing him over as the crowd cups their mouths. Their hands shoot from their lips and race to the sky as Shaun slips free, grabs both men by the back of their heads and uses their own momentum to send them soaring over the cables. Craven and Adams crash to the mats side by side.
Billy: Shaun Cruze has just eliminated both members of Generation Now.
Blood rushes to the faces of Craven and Adams, the two enraged and stunned that they were eliminated by Shaun Cruze of all people.
Mayne: Generation Now is gone, he-he-ho-ho-ha-ha. The sun will definitely come out tomorrow.
Katie: I knew you liked musicals about little girls as indentured servants. I’d spit on you, but chances are you’d save the saliva.
Billy: You know me all too well.
Both members of Gen Now are trembling as they realize the truth, they’ve been eliminated and to make matters a hundred times worse, it was a Cruze who sent them packing. They look at their palms and stew in anger, realizing that the belts have slipped through their fingers. Shaun waves goodbye to them from the ring, leaning over the ropes and rubbing it in.
Billy: Max and Jackson are done, so long fellas. We’ll be seeing the last of you next week when the Five Star Society destroys you inside of Hell in a Cell.
A loud “Icon” chant has commenced from the crowd, which sounds particularly refreshing to Shaun. He can’t help but to smile, embracing this reaction and the moniker that has been thrust upon him. He goes about carrying on the Cruze family legacy, focusing his attention on “Bad” Billy Mitchell.
Billy is still suffering the ill-effects of that thrust kick taken moments earlier. Shaun is fully aware of this and looks to take advantage. He gives not his opponent nor himself time to recover, even though his bell is still rung after being introduced skull first into the exposed turnbuckle post. He pushes past it for the sake of driving Billy to his feet and preparing to send him crashing to the mats.
His preparations prove futile the moment Billy shoves his arms away and delivers the Silver Bullet.
Mayne: STUNNER!
Shaun stands up straight, eyes rolling to the back of his head just before Arcane lunges in out of nowhere and delivers two knees straight into Cruze’s upper-back. The force of this maneuver sends Shaun flailing into the cables. He turns, bounces from the ropes spine first and staggers into another Silver Bullet stunner from Mitchell. The sheer force knocks Shaun back just as Arcane delivers a superkick right on the jaw that sends him flipping to the outside.
Mayne: He’s out, he’s finished…..we’ve got new Tag Team Champions!
The whole building is rumbling right down to it’s nearly cracked foundation. There is mass pandemonium at the sight of Fox Arcane and “Bad” Billy Mitchell emerging from this battle royal as the NEW IWC Tag Team Champions.
Katie: I almost want to throw-up in my mouth for saying this, but Mitchell and Arcane have just won this battle royal….
Mayne: Which means we’ve got a brand new set of Tag Team Champions. And hey, it could be worse, Shaun Cruze or Generation Now could have won. At least these two are slightly tolerable.
The fans are absolutely elated, their adrenaline still kicking after the oh so exciting and fast paced denouement to this battle royal. A battle that has claimed many victims and crowned only two fortunate winners. After overcoming all the obstacles thrown their way, Billy Mitchell and For Arcane stand with arms propped up by the official, victorious.
Billy: These two really busted their asses tonight and barely, BARELY scraped by with the win.
Steward: This would have been so much nicer if the FSS had won. I’m sure rainbows would have formed and unicorns would magically show up and Billy Mayne would stop existing. But no, now we have two guys thrown together as the Champions, and we’re not even sure how they’ll coexist.
Their arms drop in time to receive the Tag Title belts that are forked over to them by the time keeper. The belts drop across their wrists, Mitchell looking at his reflection in his very first IWC Championship. Fox almost looks at his reflection, trying to pick out any imperfections in his skin. After ensuring that he has no cuts or bruises from this match he turns to address the new co-owner of the Tag Team Titles. A grin slices across Billy’s face as Fox’s palm extends.
Mitchell: Have time to discuss business with me now?
Arcane: Sure.
The grin only widens as Billy takes the palm and provides a tight grip. The two shake hands to commemorate their victory and their newfound alliance just before Mitchell turns and delivers the Silver Bullet. Arcane’s head snaps back and his body follows, hitting the canvas.
Mayne: OHHHHH-HO-HO! Didn’t see that coming.
Katie: Fox walked right into that one.
Some of the fans applaud while others just watch on in complete shock. Whatever the reaction may be, Mitchell elicits a response from EVERYONE in the building, especially as he stands over Fox’s body.
Billy: Arcane getting stunned by his new tag team partner and the co-holder of the Tag Titles, but why?
Katie: Do people even bother with motivations nowadays?
Mitchell slowly extracts the Tag belts from the canvas. He seems to relish every moment as he drops one of the straps over Fox’s gut and throws the second belt across his own shoulder.
Mitchell: I guess congratulations are in order, Fox.
The cold statement falls on deaf ears, Fox unconscious and unable to hear the closing comment. The final visual from this edition of Riot! features “Bad” Billy Mitchell standing above an unconscious Arcane and raising the Tag Team Title belt aloft.
FADE TO BLACK