OPENING VIDEO

Forgive me father for I have sinnned....

Light creeps inward from a large stained glass window built into the wall at the side of the camera. The rays of luminous gold passionately embrace and reflect from the polished floors and glimmering wooden surface of pews arranged in a row. A figure emerges from behind the camera’s lens, the flaps of his long cloak blowing backgrounds as he walks in slow motion. The cloaked and hooded apparition tumbles to his knees at the end of a long isle that sliced between the pews, his legs embracing the cold marble floor below. He crouches before the iconic symbol of Jesus mounted with weeping eyes to a cross at the forefront of the church.

I have allowed my anger to get the better of me...

His arms extend out to his sides with his palms opened, catching the lights in puddles within his cupped hands. A brief, chaotic flash features a smiling Desolation in black and white, blood rolling down his features as he laughs from the pain he’s inflicting on a faceless victim. A loud scream is heard in conjunction with the brief image. The figure, cloaked, hooded and crouched again becomes the focus of the scene, still kneeling before our lord and savior.

I’ve allowed my rage to control me...

In another brief flash Robin is shown slapping Bitchcakes McPhee hard across the face, but it just as quickly transitions into AWOL hitting a running big boot directly between the eyes of Jackson Adams. The faces of white statues, females with hooded heads and judging eyes are shown, their pupils fixed on the figure kneeling on the ground before them.

I’ve passed judgement on others, and executed the punishment for their sins...

A bit of static overtakes the scene for a moment before materializing into Psycho’s bloodied features, licking some crimson liquid from the tips of his fingers while he stands in the center of the ring. A sermon, given in several different tongues at once can be heard as figures are shown marching up a hill, a smoking pot dangling from a chain being held by the lead figure a priest. A casket slowly lowers into a shallow, open grave with many grieving onlookers watching on. Orlando is featured in black and white having a crate shoved hard into his ribs, almost knocking him through a nearby wall as a result. Again the kneeling figure in the house of God takes up the forefront of the camera, his head lowering as he continues to confess his sins to the Lord and Savior mounted to the arch above.

I abandoned my principles in a pursuit to punish the wicked....

That same high pitched scream heard earlier returns as AWOL is rushed across the stage and thrown through tables below at the hands of the Alpha Generation. Once more the bloodied, laughing face of Desolation is shown. It then switches to Jackson Adams clocking Jon Rich in the face with a flag-post, knocking him out completely. Chris Cagero’s face is now featured. While he chokeslams Adams to the very ring. Painted angles with the sun shining through their transparent bodies seem to be looking on with shock, disbelief, and dismay. Their eyes all gravitate towards the kneeling individual gathered across the cold marble below.

I’ve allowed myself to be corrupted by vengeance, by anger, by wrath...

The dimly lit images of Hurse being spiked to the forehead are featured, leaving him sitting with blood streaming from his scalp and a look of shock in his eyes. A trash can wielded by Too Magnificent is shown cracking the very skull of Psycho as he stands over a casket. Nathan Creed is now displayed hitting individuals over the skull with a steel chair as he comes to the aid of an entirely exposed Orlando Cruze. A comforting hand reaches with a quiver towards the shoulder of the hooded man deep in his confessions and guilt. As the camera turns to aim into his shadowed face the hand, and it’s bearer has vanished, noone there to comfort him for his misdeeds.

My sins have created guilt that has overtaken me, so I ask now for your forgiveness...

The stoic colorless eyes of the crucifix bound Jesus watch on mournfully, before the image becomes distorted by black and white and is soon replaced but not so quickly forgotten. Orlando is shown giving the Rock Bottom to Creed, as well as slapping him hard across the cheek. But it soon fades into a lingering scene of the two shaking one another’s hands, their palms interlocked about one another.

As we stand on the threshold of a new awakening, on the precipice of a rebirth, I ask you to absolve me of my sins, of my wrong doings and evil deeds....

Children run together through isles created by tombstones in a windy cemetery, their clothing blowing in all directions like the grasses and low hanging willows above. Aurora Rose gracefully jumps to the top rope and dives off, soaring through the air in slow motion, capturing this breathtaking moment and the vicious landing on a gathering of security and Pat Evans below. The beauty of her dive is extinguished with the next scene which shows Evans slamming a chair violently into her spine. The hooded and cloaked figure rises to his feet in a huff, his palms still extended out to his sides before he drawls them in close to his wide, lanky body. He forces them up and down into a cross formation while the watchful eyes of Jesus watch on painfully.

I ask you Lord, to allow me to be free of my sin, to allow me to be born again...

The hood begins to fall off his bald scalp and tumble in reverse while flashes of scenes cut across the screen. Images of Desolation Curb Stomping Psycho, Jon Rich delivering a superkick to Orlando’s jaw, Bitchcakes diving over the ropes, Max Power delivering a reverse neckbreaker from the reverse Gurrerro Special position on Nobu-kun, children running through an open graveyard, a casket being lowered into a shallow grave. The hood falls back and reveals the face of Chapel, the light embracing and striking his face from every side while blood rolls down from his eyes, trickling across his cheeks.

Forgive me for what I’ve done, and for what must be done.

He squeezes his fingers into the palms of his hands till blood is drawn, causing it to leak down his wrists and spill to the marble below. Robin Brooks hits the Flying Star on Stacy Raines, Chris Cagero black hole slams an opponent to the canvas, chanting in different languages in sermon form.

I ask to be Born Again...

A crying baby is held up with water dripping from it’s body, clutched in the hands of a caring preacher it seems at first. A Baptism being performed under the guise of many watchful eyes, before it’s revealed that the church is empty, pew after pew of vacant seats. All that is located within the confines of this house of God are the screaming baby and Chapel, who holds the frightened infant in his arms, watching him with bleeding eyes. He holds the baby into the air slowly as light encases it and all blurs into brightness.

The camera zooms into the light as the words Born Again materialize and take form.

IWC BORN AGAIN

IN THE ARENA

Fireworks explode from both sides of a giant crucifix built with two big screens on opposite sides of the upper portions of the lower case “t” shape. The pyros explode from almost every inch of the stage as well as from the rafters above, officially welcoming the fans to IWC Born Again. All those crammed into the Manhattan Center are already erupting, much like the pyro, into a wave of cheers for the IWC’s first official pay-per-view event. They jump and down, thrusting their signs high into the air and trying to get their faces on television even if for only a fleeting moment. The excited vocals of Dan Douglas kick in in the background, anxiously hyping tonight’s event.

Dan Douglas: Thank you for joining us on pay-per-view for what should be one of the most chaotic nights in wrestling history. This is Dan Douglas, joined as always, regrettably, by Billy Mayne.

Billy Mayne: You just made several bold statements, especially considering I’m the one who should be embarrassed by the fact that I have to share the announce table with a relic from the stone age, but your other claims can be, and will be backed up here at Born Again. This is IWC’s inaugural pay-per-view event since we branched off from the now defunct ULW, and as thus this show should blow away anything we’ve ever seen before.

Dan: A bold statement on your part as well Billy, but as you said the roster tonight will back that up with ease.

Billy: Dan, are you becoming a parakeet? Next thing you know you’ll be sprouting feathers and nibbling at your own feces. Actually, I think the latter of the two options may already be true.

ROBIN BROOKS © VS. BITCHCAKES McPHEE

"I drink beer because it's good.
I drink beer because I should.
If there was a song to sing.
I'd sing it and beer you'd bring.
I drink beer when I am sad.
Cuz the beer it makes me glad.
Now there is nothing more to sing.
So let's go drink beer."

Bitchcakes rolls into the ring just before the chorus begins, and begins to get the fans involved in singing the chorus of the song with him.

"Beer is Good, Beer is Good, Beer is good, and Stuff!
Beer is Good, Beer is Good, Beer is good, let's go drink some
BEER!
BEER!
BEER!
BEER!
BEER! BEER!
BEER! BEER!
BEER! BEER
BEER!"

Mayne: And we’re kicking off the first IWC pay-per-view with a title defense as Bitchcakes McPhee steps through those curtains looking to challenge for the X-Class Championship. Not exactly the person I’d choose if we were wanting to put our best foot forward, seeing as McPhee would be the rotting, stinking toe on that foot, but oh well.

Douglas: Billy, at least you find your analogies clever, and apparently that’s all that matters. There’s no better way to kick off tonight’s show with a title defense, especially featuring the high flying, no risk to great offense of the X-Class division.

Mayne: That synopsis of what the X-Class division represents is not displayed by McPhee though, the most high risk, agile thing Bitchcakes can do is drink three beers at once while dancing on a table top to the lyrics of Girls Just Want to Have Fun.

Douglas: Well, he did push Brooks to the limit the last time they fought and came within inches of winning that X-Class title, will the second time be the charm tonight?

Bitchcakes has entered the ring, or it be more accurate to say, staggers to the center of the squared circle. There he stops and waves to the fans in the front row before licking his lips as he turns to the official who has their back turned in his direction. Their long red locks blow in the wind as McPhee overlooks their backside with a huge grin on his face, never seeing this new female official. He steps towards her, rubbing his hands together before without even speaking a word, placing the side of his face to the back of their shoulder. The official stands up straight, becoming incredibly stiff while the drunken McPhee sniffs at her long, pretty hair.

Bitchcakes: Don’t worry baby, it’s just Bitchcakes, your big loveable cuddly teddy bear. Ohh, your shaking, it’s okay, let Bitchcakes’ hands warm you. Yeah, feel my soft, gentle touch as my hands slide down your nice, firm, petite stomach, down between those thick, luscious thighs, embracing that long, smooth shaft.....

McPhee’s eyes widen with sudden shock while his face becomes frozen much like the body of the official. He steps back slowly with his palms held up in the air and the referee turning around to glare at him, giving him a completely confused and disgusted expression all in the same. He reveals his bushy red mustache and goatee while shaking his head in the direction of Bitchcakes, who immediately starts apologizing and looking into his hands in disgust.

Douglas: Bitchcakes getting up close and personal with our new referee Michael Fitzpatrick, welcoming him to the IWC in his own special way.

Mayne: Michael shouldn’t have those child bearing hips, it confuses people.

The new official is pointing in Bitchcake’s face, brandishing him with warnings and pointing to his posterior in the process. He shouts something that is rather inaudible at first but becomes clearer.

Ref Fitzpatrick: And that better have been a hotdog that was poking me in the back....

Before the statement can be completed a worried Bitchcakes reaches into his pocket, indeed pulling out a hotdog, which puts the referee’s concerns at ease for a moment. McPhee then takes a bite of the hotdog for good measure before Robin Brook’s entrance music kicks in. Rumor by Lindsey Lohan plays from all the speakers in the building, getting the fans to their feet, cheering and clapping wildly before through the curtains rushes Robin Brooks herself with the X-Class title draped over her shoulder. She spins and points out over the fans who are really rallying behind her, two pyros exploding from the stage behind her. The glimmering belt is held up high before she rushes down the ramp, actually wearing a smile on her face in stark contrast to last week. She does some kick boxing moves before sliding into the ring and standing up tall with the belt raised high. McPhee stands back, shielding his eyes, trying not to offend her again by catching a glimpse of her cleavage, which there is plenty of. Robin almost seems to be using it as a distraction technique as the Fitzpatrick takes the title from Brooks and holds it high in the air.

Mayne: And here’s perhaps the most diabolical, treacherous, filthy Champion in the history of the IWC. Just looking at her, I can tell she’s a devious, manipulative, cunning...

Douglas: Someone’s been browsing through the thesaurus lately, I had to cut you off because we only have three hours tonight, Billy, but just to make this quick, everything you said about Robin is grade A bullshit. Robin has been a fighting champion since winning that belt, and is really raising the prestige of the gold with these hard fought defenses. Tonight she looks to increase the prestige of the title, and her reign as champion by successfully walking away with the gold after beating McPhee. A tall order.

Billy: A talk drunkenly order. I thought I’d never see the day where Bitchcakes would be a more deserving champion than someone, but alas that day has come.

Finally both McPhee and Robin begin to step towards the center of the ring with the Black Widow appearing slightly apologetic for that slap last week. She extends her hand for a shake and a showing of sportsmanship with McPhee peaking through the fingers over his eyes as he reaches out, trying to slap his palm into Brooks’. He feels around, desperately trying to discover her hand and attempting not to look at her cleavage to the best of his abilities in the process. Brooks stands there, watching the hand go back and forth before finally it settles straight on top of her face, shaking it back and forth as McPhee obviously thinks he has hold of her palm. The crowd begins to chuckle at the sight of this while the Black Widow just stands there with her hand still stuck out and her head being shaked by McPhee. Finally she’s hand enough, reaching up and taking hold of Bitchcake’s wrist, pulling it from her face and swinging around under it. She places him in a quick arm ringer then steps towards McPhee, slapping on a side headlock while his other hand was still over his eyes. He pulls his fingers away in time to turn and notice that Brooks’ breast is right beside his face. After unleashing a bit of a yelp he provides a quick counter to get away from it by placing his foot to the back of Robin’s knee, pushing down on it. Robin falls to a kneeling base and breaks the side headlock as Bitchcakes steps forward and locks one on himself, clamping his arms around her neck. Trying to find a quick means of escape she reaches up to grab his arm, attempting to pull it away from her neck, before McPhee extends his hand, taking hold of her wrist. He swings around under it and then pulls Robin to her feet, locking in a quick arm ringer but then drops away from her, instead turning it into a huge arm drag. Robin ducks her head as she’s sent flying across the canvas, rolling across it as a result and getting straight to her feet.

As soon as she starts trying to get to her feet though McPhee rushes in, slapping on a side headlock once again, squeezing at her cranium with all his strength. He then bends forward and unleashes a loud burp right in her face. A piercing scream comes from Robin as she tries to desperately free herself from the hold and nauseating stench emanating from between the yellowed teeth of Bitchcakes.

Mayne: That may be the single cruelest submission any individual would ever be forced to endure. I hear Texas bottles McPhee’s gases to put inmates to death.

Douglas: Bitchcakes using his most potent arsenal to achieve an advantage in this title match.

McPhee really forces the submission now that he almost knocked Brooks out with his breath. That’s before she stands up though and twists her body to fall sideways away from McPhee, catching him by the wrist on the way down. She flips Bitchcakes over so that he rolls across the canvas on the back of his head and shoulders, getting right to his knees though then shortly to his feet. As Robin gets up, Bitchcakes comes charging in only to be met with a deep arm drag that sends him flipping over onto the canvas. He crashes into the ring but stands up quickly as Brooks comes rushing in at him now. He throws a lariat that she ducks, hooking his arm in the process and twisting so that her spine is pressed to his. She then swings away from his back and hooks his other arm on the opposite side before falling down to the canvas, connecting with another big arm drag. Bitchcakes surprisingly does a head stand though onto the canvas and flips up onto his feet, avoiding the move slightly. He then sticks his arms out to his sides and lets out a loud, “heeeeeyyyy.” The crowd responds with a “hey” chant of their own which startles McPhee enough to stagger backwards into the waiting arms of Robin, who catches him with a school boy....girl, rolling him up backwards onto his shoulders.

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Bitchcakes kicks out, dropping onto his knees out of the pin while Robin rushes to her feet and steps over his back quickly, straddling the back of his head in an electric chair drop position. McPhee stands up though rather quickly, holding Robin in the air while she is seated on his shoulders before reaching up for her. She reaches down though and catches him by the wrists then ducks her head, dropping forward off his shoulders and over his head. As she falls to the canvas she turns so her side is facing McPhee, pulling him over into a huge armdrag, that sends Bitchcakes flipping onto his back, crashing into the canvas. The crowd screams, putting their hands together at the sight of that nifty counter. McPhee quickly gets to his knees before Robin steps in and slaps on another side headlock, burying his face against the side of her ample chest area. Bitchcakes goes to fight it but stops abruptly and just drops to his knee, finally letting a smile come to his face while placing his fists to his hips.

Mayne: Finally McPhee has succumb to the power of the bosom.

Douglas: It’s a pretty impossible power to resist if you ask me.

Robin has him completely locked in the hold before Bitchcakes finally decides to do some wrestling, rising to his feet and placing his hand to her upper back. He shoves her off with all his strength, sending the Black Widow charging into the cables with McPhee stepping to the center then dropping to his gut. Brooks is forced to jump over him as she continues across the ring, bouncing off the opposite ropes then coming back in at Bitchcakes who rises to his feet and throws a quick boot right at her face. Again Robin ducks this attempted shot and then goes into a headstand, the back of her legs hit the cables and propel her over backwards, before she lands on her feet and then flips up into the air. McPhee turns around and catches her ribs first right on top of his shoulder only for her to slide off and turn, catching him by the wrist then dragging him down into a huge armdrag. Bitchcakes is sent flipping over once again, crashing into the canvas across the back of his head then rolling under the ropes to the outside of the ring. He lands on his feet with the crowd cheering loudly, putting their hands together at the sight of Robin’s acrobatics while she gets to her feet in the ring, turning in circles to stare out over the fans who are showing their support.

Robin gives her opponent little time to rest though, charging forward quickly then beginning to dive through the ropes only for Bitchcakes to move out of the way quickly. Therefore Robin changes up her idea, instead grabbing the top and middle cable, swinging around with her legs into almost a 619 before ending up back on her feet in the ring. McPhee has a smile on his face before he approaches the fans who are sticking their palms up, giving them each a high five before stopping at a silver haired old lady with her chubby palm extended. McPhee slaps it then pulls her forward, he and the 60 year old dame embracing with a sweet lip lock that causes the crowd around them to start going nuts. After a few moments Bitchcakes pulls his head away and starts to gag, reaching for his throat while Robin has jumped over the top rope and landed feet first on the apron behind him.

Bitchcakes: My God, I think the tip of her tongue touched by larynx.

The elderly, plumped lady fans herself off with her hands while falling into her seat. Bitchcakes finally turns around when Robin rushes across the apron and dives off, extending her arm as she delivers a huge flying forearm strike right to his face. The crowd erupts as Bitchcakes is knocked off of his feet, Brooks rolling across the mats onto her knees then standing up, motioning for more support from the fans.

Mayne: Bitchcakes’ antics again leading to Robin getting the advantage, make out with your 80 year old mother with cobwebs in her underpants later, your fighting for a title now.

Douglas: I’m not sure if Bitchcakes even understands the importance of this title match.

A somewhat agitated Robin calls for Bitchcakes to get up, growing annoyed by his antics. Sluggishly Bitchcakes gets to his knees when the Black Widow steps in, throwing a forearm strike into the side of his face. She then spins around connecting with a swinging back chop straight to the side of his face. McPhee is almost taken down from a kneeling base before Brooks places him in a front chancery and begins to drag him towards the ring. She rolls him under the ropes to the canvas while rising to her feet on the apron, just steadying herself until McPhee gets to his feet. He turns towards her and quickly reaches out, catching her around the back of the neck before placing the top of his head to her jaw, dropping down so that her throat is dragged directly into the top rope. Brooks bounces off the cable, grabbing her throat in pain, McPhee quickly slipping through the ropes onto the apron in front of her. He takes hold of Robin’s head and begins to drive forearms into her face repeatedly, trying to weaken her before surprisingly the Champion comes to life, delivering a hard knee lift straight to his gut. Bitchcakes is bent over forward, holding his stomach until Robin steps in and connects with a blistering upward kick right to his face. The impact causes Bitchcakes to stand up straight with an incredibly groggy expression on his face, Brooks backing up a bit. She now charges forward, getting a running start across the apron before McPhee bends forward, catching her against the leg and hoisting her into the air before dropping back so that she lands face first on the exposed steel top of the turnbuckle. The Black Widow bashes off the post with her lovely features while the crowd screams, Robin dropping off the apron to the outside of the ring.

Mayne: I don’t know how, but I think Bitchcakes may have increased the lack of good looks on Robin’s part with that last move.

Douglas: Would you stop your blatant Brooks hatred already, it’s getting really stale at this point. But I do say that last impact with the post may have done a great deal of damage to Robin’s face and body, and may have just taken her out of this title defense.

Billy: If that’s true, I guess Santa finally got around to reading all those letters I sent him.

Robin is trying her best to get to her feet on the outside of the ring, holding her forehead in tremendous pain while her opponent has re-entered the ring, charging across it. He builds tremendous speed while bouncing off the opposite cables then coming back in, diving through the ropes right at Brooks who turns around in time to be caught with a huge suicide diving headbunt. Both individuals crash to the outside mats with force, everyone jumping up and down in the crowd, surprised by Bitchcakes’ high risk move. McPhee rolls across the mats, holding his forehead in a bit of pain while Robin lies on the mats, barely conscious after that last series of moves in this high risk, high flying fast paced affair. Having his opponent reeling, Bitchcakes gets to his feet and grabs her by the hair, rolling her to her knees then dragging her to her feet. He quickly rolls her into the ring and then climbs the apron before scaling the turnbuckle. Robin has ended up spread across the mats on her back as Bitchcakes gets to the top rope, turning his back towards her. Again to the shock of everyone the challenger launches himself off the turnbuckle with a huge moonsault, all of his girth flying through the air and crashing down right on top of the Black Widow. Robin begins to flop on the ring as a result, trying to cover her injured areas with her arms before Bitchcakes crawls into the cover, hooking both her legs for the pinfall.

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2

Robin kicks out, getting her shoulder up in time while rolling away from McPhee. Bitchcakes quickly grabs hold of her arm though and turns away from her, locking in a quick fujiwara. The armbar is draining the energy from Robin’s already exhausted frame and further exerting the anguish rushing through her body. Her arm is almost dislocated from the shoulder in this submission by Bitchcakes who is finally taking this match seriously. He is trying to exert as much pressure on the submission as possible before Robin gets to her knees and ducks her head, rolling forward across the canvas quickly. She gets over onto her back but Bitchcakes holds onto the arm and rolls with her, ending up across his spine as well but now interlocking his legs around her shoulder. He has her trapped in the cross arm breaker this time, Robin reaching up and interlocking her hands though, trying to keep her arm from being pulled down and fully trapped in this submission. Desperately she tries to turn her body in the direction of McPhee forcing him over onto the back of his shoulders while he is still attempting to hold onto that arm with all of his strength. Brooks turns him so that his shoulders are pressed to the canvas with her standing up over top of him, leaning down into the back of his thighs. He lets go of the arm now to avoid being pinned but Brooks switches around, placing her shoulders to the back of his thighs and then flipping over top of them, bridging over in reverse to hold in a pinning predicament.

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Bitchcakes kicks out and causes Robin to land back first on top of his chest and stomach. He reaches up, wrapping his arms around her waist and then sitting up so that she is pushed over onto the back of her shoulders.

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Robin rolls over in reverse right onto her knees while Bitchcakes gets up in front of her then steps in, delivering a thunderous upward kick right to her face.

Douglas: What a kick straight to the skull of Brooks, that may have caved in her cranium.

Mayne: I’m sure it didn’t, Robin’s head is too thick to be hurt.

Brooks wavers on her knees after that impact before Bitchcakes reaches down, wrapping his arm around her neck. He drags her up to her feet and then grabs hold of the back of her pants, hoisting her up into the air and shouting something that sounds like “brainbusta.” Before he can hit it though, Robin floats over, landing on her feet behind him. She now slaps on a side headlock and points at the cables, charging at them quickly, dragging Bitchcakes with her. The agile Black Widow steps up the ropes before McPhee places his hands to her upper back, pushing her off into a reverse flip, avoiding a possible springboard bulldog. She flips over, landing on her feet right behind Bitchcakes, barely catching herself before McPhee spins around and charges in for a huge spear. Robin is lucky enough to spot it in time in order to jump into the air, leap frogging him. The momentum of the ample McPhee carries him under as a result, Robin landing on her feet then staggering into one of the turnbuckles as a result. She turns around as Bitchcakes spins in circles, trying to find her to the best of his abilities. Once he spots her he points straight at her face then comes barreling in, building tremendous momentum before lobbing his foot right at her face for a big boot in the corner. Robin steps out of the way, avoiding it in the nick of time as Bitchcakes’ leg goes over the top rope. He then turns around and places his spine to the cables as a result of missing the move before the Black Widow comes charging in and jumping high into the air with a big crossbody to his chest. The impact of which sends them both collapsing over the top rope to the outside mats with the crowd squealing as a result, watching both competitors crash hard before the barricade.

Mayne: Yeah, real smart Brooks, you just took yourself out and McPhee both at once, I hope your happy for doing more damage to yourself than your opponent ever could have.

Douglas: She doesn’t care what does to herself, all that matters is retaining that X-Class Championship come hell or high water.

Billy: High water is only threatening to people stupid enough to live close to an ocean or river, so you make no sense whatsoever.

Dan: We’d have something in common then, which is an impossibility.

The crowd watches on attentively as both Brooks and McPhee start to get to their feet on the outside of the ring. Their bodies are quite exhausted and battered after this ordeal, this hard hitting, high flying title match. Right as they get up though, Bitchcakes steps in and delivers a hard knife edge chop right to the bosom of Brooks, causing her to turn away in a great deal of pain. McPhee steps back and stares at his hand for a second then sniffs at a little as the impact causes Robin to stumble towards the ring, rolling under the ropes to the interior. Bitchcakes turns towards the screaming fans, including on gentleman who is holding up a large beer, giving him a thumbs up. An excited McPhee reaches his hand into the air as the fan goes to give him a high five. Before he can, Bitchcakes grabs the now unprotected beer out of his other palm, beginning to down it with ease and great satisfaction, all the while backing towards one of the turnbuckles. He doesn’t realizes that Robin has rolled all the way across the ring and has now spilled under the ropes opposite the side he’s on. The Black Widow suddenly begins to run around the ring quickly as McPhee turns around to face the turnbuckle. That’s when Robin jumps into the air, flying through two sets of ropes, the ones perpindicular to the cables McPhee is standing behind, and the ropes beside him. She soars past the turnbuckle and catches McPhee around the neck, pulling him around into a huge tornado DDT that plants his skull with force against the mats. The crowd slaps the barricade and screams as Bitchcakes flips over onto his posterior, looking knocked through a loop by that last impact.

Douglas: Ohhhh, what a move by Robin Brooks, diving from outside the ring, through two sets of ropes to hit a tornado DDT on McPhee who was standing on the opposite side of the turnbuckle. These two athletes are really busting out some new, innovative moves here tonight.

Mayne: Damn that McPhee, why must be keep consorting with the fans and stealing their refreshments or kissing their mothers? Concentrate on the title you bastard!

Everyone crammed into the building are still cheering loudly for that last move as Robin gets up, grabbing hold of Bitchcakes’ hair, dragging him up to his feet slowly. Her arm seems to be bothering her though as she pulls McPhee to a standing base then rolls him under the ropes to the inside of the ring, leaving his broken beer cup outside, liquor staining the mats. He rolls to the center of the ring, pushing himself up onto all fours while Robin climbs onto the apron then grabs the top rope, pulling herself over and twisting so that she lands feet first on the second cable. She springs off backwards with a huge moonsault right across the challenger’s lower back then landing on her knees. McPhee rolls across the ring, arching his spine and yelling out in pain before Robin drops down, hooking his leg quickly.

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Much to Robin’s dismay Bitchcakes kicks out, getting his shoulder off the canvas while turning away from the Black Widow who is undeterred. She jumps to her feet then hops over top of McPhee who is spread across his back behind her, planting her legs and bending her knees. Brooks jumps into the air and connects with a huge standing moonsault that knocks all the air out of Bitchcakes’ body, hooking his leg quickly after hitting the move.

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Again Bitchcakes shows his defiance by getting his shoulder up, refusing to be pinned by Robin’s series of moonsaults. An increasingly frustrated Brooks gets to her feet and points to the top rope of the turnbuckle and after briefly shaking her arm begins to approach it. The crowd starts to get pumped as Robin slips through the ropes onto the apron then climbs the turnbuckle, perhaps looking to finish McPhee off with the Flying Star, her own version of the shooting star press. The Black Widow gets to the top rope, the champion poising herself for a big dive when McPhee rolls to his knees then stands, spewing forth from his mouth a spray of beer that hits Robin right in the eyes. Cheers, boos, and laughter comes from the crowd as Bitchcakes spins in a circle, doing a Great Muta impersonation then rushing at the turnbuckle where a dazed Robin is trying to clean her eyes out. He steps up the ropes quickly and then catches her around the arm, pulling her off the turnbuckle with a big arm drag it seems. But somehow he changes it up at the last second, instead pulling Robin down so that she lands on her back with McPhee floating around so that he wraps his legs around her shoulder, applying the cross armbreaker out of nowhere.

Mayne: Where the hell did Bitchcakes McPhee pull that move out of!?!

Douglas: I haven’t got the fondest idea, but it is damn sure effective, dragging Robin off the top rope right into the cross armbreaker, trying to divorce that shoulder from the arm and win the title.

Robin stomps both of her heels against the canvas while shouting out in anguish but receiving no mercy from a motivated, actually focused Bitchcakes. He rears back on the arm with all of his strength, trying his best to force the submission, but Robin will not give up, she absolutely refuses to tap out and give into the agony. She shows her resolve by rocking her body back and forth gently, trying her best to escape this submission before it’s too late. Finally, even as it looks like all hope has failed, Robin rolls over in reverse, dragging Bitchcakes with her onto his chest and stomach while he desperately tries to maintain the cross arm breaker. He can’t do it though in this position with Robin kneeling behind him, grabbing his legs with her free arm and pushing one against the other, causing pain to shoot through his knees. He finally breaks the submission hold and gets to his knees before Robin stands up behind him, holding her shoulder and then jumping forward, delivering a quick double stomp to the middle of his spine. McPhee shouts out in pain then tumbles to the canvas face first while Robin lands on her feet in front of him, charging forward into the cables before she springs into the air. The remarkably agile Robin springs off the cables then turns, flying at Bitchcakes who stands and catches her on top of his shoulders, dropping down into a sit-out powerbomb to a huge eruption of cheers from the fans. The counter seems to have driven all life out of the Black Widow as Bitchcakes buries his shoulders against the back of her legs.

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No, Robin gets her shoulder up in time to narrowly escape defeat. This causes Bitchcakes to roll to his knees and stare at the official before rising to his feet, sticking out two fingers. An agitated Fitzpatrick stares a hole into him before responding.

Fitzpatrick: No, you mean three...

He holds up three fingers as Bitchcakes’ eyes light up, beginning to jump for joy.

Bitchcakes: I won, I won!

The official is quick to grab him by the arms, pulling him down and informing him that he was not victorious, instead insisting he was trying to show him what an actual count was suppose to be. This agitates McPhee before he turns to face Brooks who is trying valiantly to get to her feet but ultimately just falls onto her back once more in an exhausted heap. Bitchcakes steps towards her, and then over her, moving towards the turnbuckle and beginning to scale it quickly.

Mayne: How many times do I have to say this? Fat people have no business going to the top rope! Especially ones who have a slight buzz going.

Douglas: That’s not going to stop Bitchcakes from trying to put Robin away with a high risk move, kind of a prerequisite for this type of division afterall.

Billy: So what your saying is all I have to do is be able to perform a back flip on a trampoline and I’d be considered an X-Class wrestler? Because I do own a trampoline, and I’ve injured my neck numerous times trying to do a back flip.

Dan: Billy, you’d rip a muscle reaching for the toilet paper after taking a shit.

Bitchcakes is getting to the top rope before he turns to face Brooks, who somehow has risen to a kneeling base. He prepares himself to take flight, although clearly not having any idea what move he’s going for before Brooks charges at the corner. She climbs up it quickly and reaches out, wrapping her arm around Bitchcakes’ neck, setting up for some type of huge superplex perhaps. Instead of being able to hit it though, McPhee plucks his head free from the arm of Robin and drills her to the face with a forearm strike. Brooks is staggered but not taken down, standing right back up and wrapping her arm around his neck again. But McPhee frees his cranium and delivers a hard headbunt shot right to the skull of Brooks, causing her to drop off the turnbuckle, landing feet first on the canvas in front of him. Bitchcakes now begins to prepare to hit her with something big off the turnbuckle before Robin springs high into the air, catching tremendous height and reaching out with her legs, wrapping them around McPhee’s neck. She drags him off the turnbuckle with a hurricarana that sends him flipping forward, ducking his head and crashing across the canvas. Robin gets to her feet using the ropes and turns her back towards the turnbuckle but doesn’t realize Bitchcakes rolled right onto his feet out of the hurricarana position and is now charging in, delivering a vicious big boot directly to her face. His leg goes over the cables while she spills onto her posterior, now seated against the turnbuckle.

The fans are still cupping their mouths with shock over what they just witnessed while McPhee steps out of the corner and rubs at his genital area as if he strained something with that big boot. Nevertheless he turns to face Robin, who is somehow starting to pull herself to her feet in the corner, trying her best to stand up. She is having a great deal of trouble doing so though before McPhee steps in, grabbing hold of her hair and then dragging her out of the corner. He now kicks her straight to the gut while she is dazed, causing her to bend forward in prone position for McPhee who turns and unleashes a loud “Moooo.” The crowd responds with a “moo” of their own before Bitchcakes gives them the thumbs up then charges forward, just about to jump to connect with the Hangover DDT. But Robin suddenly stands up, catching him around the back of the head and rolling him over onto the canvas into a quick small package.

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McPhee kicks out just in time, which shocks both Brooks and the fans. As they both rise to their feet though, Bitchcakes throws a quick lariat that Robin ducks, charging under it and rushing into the cables behind him. She bounces off them then comes back in at McPhee who catches her with a quick tilt a whirl, going for the back breaker. But she spins out of it somehow, landing right on her feet in front of a surprised McPhee then jumping into the air with a back heel kick directed at his face. Bitchcakes ducks it and rushes into the cables behind Brooks as she lands on her feet. She then spins around as McPhee charges in and catches her to the ribs with a big spear that almost sends her flipping over in reverse. In fact is does, and causes her to land right on top of her face, crashing off the canvas then dropping over onto her back.

Douglas: The spear by Bitchcakes, and it turned Robin absolutely inside out!

Mayne: We’re going to have a new champion Dan, thank you Jesus, or Santa, or the Easter Bunny, whoever is responsible for this.

Brooks is completely out after that spear as Bitchcakes crawls eagerly into the cover, hooking her leg.

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No! Robin kicks out with just seconds to spare to the surprise of everyone in the building, McPhee included, who sits up, his mouth hanging open in disbelief. Drool seeps from the corners of his mouth, mixing with the sweat that is rolling down his body, absolutely stunned that he didn’t just become X-Class Champion.

Dan: She kicked out, Robin kicked out of the Charging Bull, a move McPhee has finished off countless others with before! What a way to kick off Born Again!

Mayne: This can’t be. It just can’t be. Bitchcakes was almost guaranteed the title just now, how did Robin muster up the strength to kick out?

Dan: That’s why she’s the X-Class Champion, Billy.

A very tired, sweaty, and exhausted McPhee get to his feet, his knees wobbly beneath him while Brooks tries to force herself to a kneeling base. Bitchcakes clubs her hard over the upper back and then reaches down, wrapping his arms around her waist. He dead lifts her right off the canvas and into the air before dropping back with a gutwrench suplex that sends her crashing onto her back right beside him. Her head lands on his shoulder though, allowing him to quickly wrap his arm around her neck and roll over sideways to his knees, thus pulling the Champion along with him. Both of them are very winded as they rise to their feet, Bitchcakes clutching Brooks in the front chancery before hoisting her up into the air in a vertical suplex position, possibly setting up for the brain buster he was going for earlier. Somehow though, Robin flips out of it, freeing her head at the last second and then landing right on top of Bitchcakes’ shoulders. She drops back and pulls McPhee over into a huge hurricarana, McPhee crashing into the canvas across the back of his head and shoulders with Robin seated on his chest. She hooks up both of his legs, desperately hoping that will be enough.

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Somehow Bitchcakes kicks out now, launching Robin forward onto all fours, sweaty and increasingly tired. She slaps the canvas, incapable of believing that she didn’t just win this match with that quick counter. Bitchcakes starts to roll to all fours, trying to get up. As soon as he does though, Robin comes charging in, catching him around the neck then jumping into the air. She pulls him around in a circle and then drops back, delivering a thunderous tornado DDT that plants Bitchcakes right on top of his head. McPhee flops into the air and then falls onto his spine, Robin rolling across the canvas as she gets to her feet, charging into the cables quickly. She bounces off, coming back in and jumping forward, flipping over and crashing hard spine first right into Bitchcakes’ ribs with a standing senton bomb. She then falls in reverse in a very sluggish manner, hooking his leg desperately.

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Bitchcakes suddenly hooks up both of her arms out of nowhere though, pulling her over in reverse into a crucifix pin. Before a count can be made though McPhee lets her drop over onto her hands and knees, getting up in front of her. Just as Robin starts to stand Bitchcakes unleashes a “moo” then charges forward, beginning to jump into the air to catch her around the neck. Brooks steps forward though and catches him across the chest, while sweeping his legs out from under him, driving him down hard to the canvas with a running STO take-down, successfully avoiding the Hangover DDT yet again in this contest. She now stands up quickly and turns towards him though, rushing forward before performing a standing shooting star press right on top of his prone body. The crowd reacts with a great deal of cheers and disbelief as Robin hooks McPhee’s leg after performing a standing version of her Flying Star.

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3!

The crowd rejoices, everyone going absolutely nuts before they realize that Bitchcakes just shot his shoulder up from the canvas in the nick of time. Robin rises to her knees, her hands trembling as they slide through her sweaty hair. She can’t seem to grasp the fact that McPhee just kicked out of her finishing move.

Douglas: Oh my God, Bitchcakes kicked out of the Flying Star, a standing version of it at that. I don’t think anyone has ever done that before.

Mayne: Bitchcakes was right when he said earlier in the week that Robin had created something she wasn’t capable of beating.

Dan: I don’t think he worded it quite like that.

Billy: Well, I modified it to make it sound better.

Screams of disbelief and excitement still come from those packed into the Manhattan Center, all of them in shock that Bitchcakes was able to kick out of the Flying Star. A sweating, heavy panting Robin tries to rise to her feet slowly although her legs and body can barely hold her up at this point in time. Robin grabs McPhee by the hair, her fingers sliding into his sweaty locks as he rolls him onto his knees. She now throws a right hand into his face, followed by another strike before turning and rushing across the ring, bouncing off the ropes to get a running start. As she comes back in though, McPhee stands and twirls around into a roaring elbow that she ducks under. Brooks then steps up the ropes behind McPhee and then launches herself off the second cable with a flying crossbody only to be caught across Bitchcakes’ chest, who spun around right in time to snatch her out of the air. While holding her spread over his sternum he grunts then throws her up into the air, over his head and onto his shoulders before delivering the Samoan Drop Driver. Brooks is planted with tremendous force against the canvas before she flops over onto her back, McPhee sitting up, breathing hard before he crawls into the cover and hooks her leg.

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Again Brooks kicks out to a thunderous ovation from the crowd, barely getting her shoulder from the canvas at the last second. Bitchcakes slams the side of his fist to the ring then forces himself to a full upright base, unable to accept that he was incapable of earning the pinfall with that last move. After struggling for a moment he rises to an upright base, straggling about in a desperate attempt to maintain his footing. Bitchcakes finally steps towards Brooks and takes hold of her neck, rolling her to her knees and slapping on a front chancery before hoisting her into the air and now dragging her down head first into the canvas with the brain buster. Her skull crashes with tremendous force against the canvas before she pops up onto her posterior with a dazed glint in her eyes then falls onto her back once more. Bitchcakes crawls into the cover on her now, hooking both of her legs with the fans screaming.

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3

Bitchcakes has done it, wait, no, Robin got her shoulder up with just seconds to spare. McPhee sits on the canvas now, his eyes wide as saucers while he tries to understand how Brooks could have possibly kicked out of that last sequence of vicious moves.

Douglas: Again Brooks kicks out. I don’t think there’s ever been a more resilient champion than the Black Widow.

Mayne: Her head must be plated with steel or something for her to keep kicking out of all these drops on it and such. McPhee has to be getting really frustrated at this point.

Dan: Indeed, as this seems to be the only match he’s taken seriously in weeks.

McPhee approaches the referee, FitzPatrick still keeping two fingers in the air to inform him he didn’t get a three count.

Bitchcakes: Say it was a three! Say it!

Fitzpatrick defiantly shakes his head and cuts the air with his arms before putting up the two fingers again. McPhee bends down though and pinches the posterior of the referee, causing him to jump into the air.

McPhee: Say I won dammit!

Again Fitzpatrick protests and tells him no before McPhee pinches him on the bum once again, getting the official angry. McPhee won’t stop doing it now and until he’s declared the winner, continually pinching Fitzpatrick on his rear end and chasing him around the ring with the crowd laughing and cheering. The official high steps, yipping and jumping into the air each time is bum is punched by both hands of Bitchcakes, who is still in hot pursuit. Finally Fitzpatrick drops down to the canvas and slides under the ropes to the outside of the ring, rubbing at his swollen rear end while McPhee points at him, warning him to make his count faster or there will be more of that type of punishment waiting for him. He turns around suddenly to spot Robin Brooks throwing a big karate roundhouse kick at his face. Bitchcakes ducks it though and then turns catching her against his shoulders, standing up as he possibly looks for that Samoan driver once again. This time though he places his hands to her chest and stomach, throwing her up into the air. As he does this Robin turns though and lands right on top of his shoulders in a seated position, dropping back into a huge hurricarana that flips him over. Brooks ends up seated on his chest while holding the back of his legs down.

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3

The crowd erupts as Brooks got a shocking pinfall out of nowhere, Fitzpatrick sliding in to make the count just in time. Bitchcakes kicks out a second too late, sitting up and appearing stunned that he wasn’t declared the winner. He slips his hands into his sweaty hair, shaking his head in protest of this announcement.

Douglas: Robin did it, she did it! She caught McPhee with a roll up hurricarana out of nowhere!!

Mayne: She capitalized on McPhee’s distraction with referee Fitzpatrick to retain her title, you and I both know that. Damn you and your antics though McPhee, you had the title won.

Dan: Nevertheless, Robin has retained her title in a phenomenal opening match here to Born Again.

Billy: This pay-per-view is already off to a bad start.

Robin has rolled under the ropes now to the outside of the ring where the belt keeper hands her the X-Class Championship. She lifts it up into the air to a thunderous ovation before falling against the apron for support, sweating profusely. Inside of the squared circle Bitchcakes has gotten to his feet, huffing and puffing in Fitzpatrick’s direction. The official has his palms held up now, insisting the count was fair and unbiased while Bitchcakes steps closer and closer towards him. Suddenly the referee goes into a crane style karate pose, his leg lifted up off the canvas, ready to defend himself while Bitchcakes looks around in confusion. He then steps forward for a kick to McPhee only to be grabbed by the shirt and forced down over Bitchcakes’ knee. He grabs his belt and slips it off the official’s waist before lifting it into the air and beginning to slap it over the posterior of Fitzpatrick who is flailing his legs and trying to get free.

Bitchcakes: You will count faster for Bitchcakes....next....time!

Each word results in a spanking from McPhee while Robin makes her way around the ring with the belt hanging from her grasp, watching all of this in confusion. Fitzpatrick is still fighting to get free while crying his eyes out as a result of this unprovoked lashing from an agitated Bitchcakes.

Douglas: What a hot way to kick off this pay-per-view event.

Mayne: By hot, I must assume you mean sexy, and if your saying anything was sexy in that last match, I’d have to guess your implying it was Bitchcakes McPhee. Because in some lights even I have to admit that the man can appear strangely arousing, unlike his opponent.

Dan: Counseling. Look into it Billy.

Mayne: Why does everyone keep saying that to me?

Douglas: I can only hazard to guess. We’re looking forward to bringing you this same type of action at our next pay-per-view event by the way, which has been titled, IWC Breathless.

PPV ADVERT

WHO DO YOU TRUST?

Douglas: What an event IWC Breathless should be, I’m really looking forward to the next time we’re going to be on pay-per-view.

Mayne: As am I, if it’s anything like this show, only one match in and I’ve already kind of enjoyed this event thus far.

Dan: Indeed, plus there’s so much more to com.....

You Know My Name by Chris Cornell rips through the speakers and entices the fans to jump to their feet without warning, many cheering, others booing at the sound of Orlando Cruze’s entrance music.

Mayne: What is this? Are we already going to get the most boring match on the card over with?

Douglas: I don’t think so, Orlando Cruze vs. Nathan Creed is not slated to happen till later in the evening, and I’d hardly consider it boring, Billy. It’s one of the most heavily hyped matches on the whole card, and should live up to that hype accordingly.

Just as the crowd starts to calm a bit, Orlando tears his way through the curtains and makes a straight B-line for the ring, causing the fans to start going insane all over again. Everyone, love him or hate him, is pumped by the presence of Orlando, an unusually focused, determined looking Cruze making his way between them down the ramp. He is dressed in some fancy street gear, with an unbutton short sleeved shirt that allows a clear view of the tape around his ribs, a clear indication of the attack perpetuated on just the last Riot!

Douglas: Orlando is here, not dressed to compete seeing as his match is slated to go on second to last this evening, but boy does he ever look fired up right now?

Mayne: He looks ready to get it on with someone, still irate over that attack on him last week by some mysterious backstage lurker. I just hope it wasn’t Lord X or somebody desperately trying to get their face back on television.

Cheers, mixed with some sporadic boos continue to bombard Cruze as he makes his way up the stairs then forces the ropes apart, sliding through them. The Icon storms to the center of the ring, grabbing his expensive shades from the tip of his nose and throwing them into the crowd, not giving one shit about them. He is more concerned with retrieving a microphone, one promptly placed in the palm of his hand. Before his music can even cut out he starts to speak in a very serious angry tone.

Orlando: Alright, I’ve been sitting at home since the last Riot! recovering from a cowardly attack on my ribs, but now that I’m here at Born Again, I’m tired of sitting on my ass getting nowhere, I want answers, and I want them right now!

A great applause rises up from the crowd, who is just as interested as Orlando in finding out who pushed that crate into his ribs on the last IWC telecast. Orlando marches back and forth, resembling a caged animal dying to burst through the bars and rip out the throat of those nauseating onlookers.

Cruze: I’ve been debating rather I should just show up tonight, compete, and let that be the end of it since this is the IWC’s inaugural pay-per-view, but unfortunately for the guys running the show in the back, I just can’t do that. I can’t allow what happened to me to simply slide by with no ramifications, and I’m sure as hell not going to walk around in the backstage area, waiting to be blindsided with another sneak attack from someone trying to make their name at my God damned expense!

Mayne: Wow, I’ve never seen Orlando this fired up. In fact I haven’t seen him show any emotion whatsoever in months.

Douglas: Whoever tried to take Cruze out last week has definitely gotten under his skin. I almost pity whomever was behind this. Notice I use the word, almost.

Billy: Yes, yes, we can read between the lines Dan. Learn to master the art of subtly please.

The enraged Icon passes back and forth across the ring, working a groove into the canvas beneath his dress shoe covered feet. He’s already growing impatient.

Orlando: So if AWOL is too fucking busy fighting his little war with the Alpha Generation, or trying to hold me back, I’ll get to the bottom of this situation myself! Therefore, if the dickless piece of shit who tried to injure me last week wants to prove themself, if they want to make a name for themself, then now’s the time pal. I’m standing right here, I’m not going nowhere. You want Orlando, you come get Orlando. Bring your big cowardly ass out here!

No longer wanting to mince words, Orlando tosses the mic down to the canvas with a loud thud and is already removing his shirt, throwing it to the ring as well. He now continues to storm back and forth, his eyes not deviating from the entry way at all. If steam could shoot from his ears they most certainly would be at this point in time.

Mayne: Orlando calling out whoever tried to hurt him last week, which we all know always works out for the best.

Douglas: I think Cruze is thinking straight right now. Someone tried to take away his livelihood last week. Right now he’s not thinking about his match with Nathan Creed, he’s concentrating on one thing, revenge.

There comes no reply from the backstage area as Orlando continues to move to and fro across the ring, every muscle in his body tensing up, veins shooting through the surface of his skin. A heartbeat suddenly starts to play through the speakers, causing Cruze to stop dead in his tracks, the lights in the building dimming down a bit.

Douglas: What is this?

A beating heart appears on the big screen and drawls Orlando’s attention to it. He mumbles obscenities under his breath while stepping towards the ropes, gripping the top one with both hands, leaning against it as the images on the screen continue to play. The heart beats a little faster, picking up in speed before a slashing sound is heard like a knife cutting through flesh. Each time you can hear the slash, a line forms in the beating heart, causing it to spue blood. This continues until finally the letters “S.K” are written across the surface of the pulsating mass. With that the heart stops beating abruptly and a long, monotonous beep is heard, as if it’s flatlined. Orlando shrugs his shoulders, backing up with his arms extended out to his sides.

Orlando: What the hell is the point of this!?!

Right as his shouts cease black and white images start to play across the big screen some in long flashes, others in shorter glimpses. They correlate to Orlando and Nathan standing side by side on the stage, their arms raised aloft in victory and sweat streaming down their frames. It then cuts to both men holding up the tag team titles, celebrating a huge, momentous victory. The scenes change abruptly though to ones featuring Orlando holding Johnny Kingdom in the sharpshooter, the Team Leader looking on the verge of submission during a big tag team match. That’s when Nathan turns with a chair in his hand, slamming the steel directly over his tag team partner, Orlando Cruze’s skull. It knocks him out completely, as the Icon starts to tumble over backwards. However, the video quickly rewinds and replays Nathan slamming the chair into his head, then does so once again. Inside the ring Cruze is getting frustrated and confused while still marching back and forth. That’s when words begin to be typed across the big screen, the sounds of fingers clicking keys also heard.

FOOL ME ONCE, SHAME ON YOU....

Creed is shown on the big screen leaning over Orlando who is handcuffed to a wall before his stationary vehicle, blood pouring down his face after an assault from the Future. The images transition into Cruze competing in the ring, battling Jon Rich one on one with an injured Nathan Creed watching on, using crutches as he shouts words of encouragement to the Icon. That’s before he uses his crutch to trip Orlando and almost cost him the match. Again the images of Creed turning against Orlando rewind and replay multiple times to add emphasis to this. Now numerous images begin to flash across the screen, such as Creed giving Orlando the Rock Bottom on the outside mats, as well as Nathan hitting the Icon with a ladder. The bloodied face of Cruze is finally paused upon in black and white, with him roaring in agony. Again the typing can be heard as the words appear right over the frozen image of Cruze’s bloodied features.

FOOL ME TWICE, SHAME ON ME...

The video seems to have ended before providing one final image of Nathan slapping a steel chair over the back of Chris Cagero during Orlando’s match last week, helping him to achieve the victory as a result. One last message is typed out across the screen now as Orlando stands up in the ring, glaring down at he beaten Cagero while also glaring in confusion at Creed.

WHO SHOULD YOU TRUST?

The sound of a flatlining heart again begins to play throughout the arena before the video abruptly cuts to black. This leaves Orlando equally as confused as the fans as he remains in the ring, his questioning eyes darting back and forth.

Douglas: What the hell was that?

Mayne: Another message from this S.K person being directed at Orlando. But I daresay it just pointed to the number one suspect behind this attack on the Icon.

Dan: Somebody is playing games here. I just don’t believe it would be Nathan who did that to Orlando last week.

Billy: Face it, that nifty little video just did point a finger in the right direction. Who would have the means and the opportunity to take Orlando out? Isn’t it convienant that Orlando is injured just a week removed from his match with Creed? Plus Nathan has a track record of turning against the Icon. Nathan is your man, face it.

Rather he wants to accept it or not, Orlando can’t discount what he just saw on the big screen, standing there with his fists to his hips in deep, deep thought. He seems to be greatly contemplating rather the video may be speaking the truth or not. Finally he drops to the ring and rolls under the mats to the outside of the squared circle, marching up the ramp with his head lowered in deep thought.

Douglas: Orlando has got a lot on his mind now. Deeply, deeply conflicted in fact by this startling piece of information just put in video format. As if Orlando didn’t have enough going against him heading into this match tonight, with an injured set of ribs, now he’s got to face Creed with all this weighing thick on his mind.

Mayne: He should be thinking about it though. He’s got to keep his eyes open, especially when it comes to Nathan Creed. How has Nathan really proved he’s on the same page with Orlando? So what if he hit a few people in the head with a chair, he’s done that numerous times to Cruze.

Dan: Hmmm, I don’t know how Orlando constantly gets himself in these scenarios. Last year after Paranoia he was unsure of rather he could trust a renewed Lethal Weapon, and now he’s got to worry about if Nathan Creed is truly trustworthy.

Mayne: All those questions aside, we’ve got to get on with the show here tonight, Billy.

STRENGTH-JUICE

A very mixed response, bordering more towards boos rather than cheers is directed at the sight of Max Power making his way down the corridor in the direction of the curtains. At his side is Mistress MERCY with a large smile on her face, her hands slipped over his shoulders, patting them reassuringly. Although it’s quite clear that the masked vigilante needs no such reassurance, well endowed with the superhero capabilities to overcome any obstacles no matter how powerful it might be. His lips are pursed and again his jaw is protruded to make it look squarer and further define the heroic qualities of his chiseled features. With his cape flapping in the wind behind him, portions of it getting caught into MERCY’s mouth, causing her to spit it out, the two move staunchly towards the ring for their impending match nevertheless though.

Max POOWWWWEEEERRRR!!!

Max pauses in mid-step, his heel raised from the concrete while progressing forward, his eyes slowly lifting to encompass a sight he was not looking forward to beholding this evening. Due to his uncanny focus on the match at hand he was unable to spot the man of many diseased organs, Bitchcakes McPhee. A sweaty McPhee stumbles forward into the camera’s frame, still exhausted from the match he just had a few moments ago and panting heavily as a result. No matter how exhausted though he stands there before Power with a large smile cut across his sweat encrusted face and a large can clutched in his hand, wrapped with some odd material it appears. Power stands a bit more upright, straightening his spine in preparation for anything that might occur, unaware of McPhee’s intentions, especially based off the trap he led him into last week. However, McPhee’s demeanor appears anything but threatening.

Bitchcakes: Did I say your name right this time? I’ve been practicing all week.

The tension fades and Max becomes a bit more upbeat, pleased by the candor of McPhee.

Power: Well, you almost got it right, as soon as you start emphasizing my last name you’ll do a lot better. But now is not the time for small talk, or vocal lessons, as some evil, mysterious apparition threatens my impeccable winning record since arriving here in IWC, and for the sake of all those small children who worship me so, I must not fail in the face of a challenge. Perhaps later I’ll assist you in your quest to find the true culprit behind the apprehension of your beer...

Bitchcakes nods, trying to follow along with everything that Max just said but then shrugging his shoulders, giving up as his train of thought flows elsewhere.

Bitchcakes: That’s okay, although I am a bit dumbfounded.....

Max: Big shock there.

The words are uttered between the clinched teeth of Power, leaning towards MERCY while whispering them into her ear. Although Bitchcakes heard this he continues with no deviation.

McPhee: Um, God bless you? Anyway, like I was saying, I’m confused, with all your powers, how come ya thought it was those guys with the megaphone and the matching green outfits who stole my beer?

Max is about to respond before pausing and scratching at the back of his head.

Power: Um, the Spirit Squad wasn’t the one who I thought stole your beer, it was those menacing gaggle of thieves known as the Alpha Generation.

Bitchcakes: Oh, well you can see how I’d confuse the two.

Max: Yeeeaaah. But to answer your question, apparently some sinister, fearsome foe had planted some Red Bull in the building, and it just threw all my powers out of wack. I think it was the same deviant who whisked away with your alcohol, for they do seem quite cunning to know what ravaging effects Red Bull has on my abilities.

Bitchcakes scratches at the stubble of hair on his chin, stroking it while pondering this revelation.

McPhee: Hmmm, well I guess that would explain it. But I took your mistake as a sign that all these earthly bound forces were somehow draining you of your Godly powers, and knowing that you’d have quite a challenge ahead of you tonight, I Placed the burden on my shoulders to go to the farthest reaches of the earth, or to the corner market, to buy you a powerful elixir. Mystics say that this combination of herbs and berries will increase your superhuman abilities ten fold, and after what happened last week, it sounds like just the thing you need to in order to secure a victory over this mystery man tonight. So here you go Max, this Bud’s on me.

Eagerly, obviously pleased with all the hard work he had to do in order to secure this mystical item, including actually putting on shoes and a shirt so the store would agree to seel him anything, McPhee pops the top on the long can and extends it out towards Max. Power seems tentative, a bit confused as he takes the can from Bitchcakes and overlooks it.

Max: Herbs and berries you say?

Bitchcakes nods with a wide grin, interlocking his hands and placing them to the side of his face as he leans his head against them. Still apprehensive, Max turns towards MERCY who shrugs her shoulders, not sure what to think. Finally, a matching smile comes to Max’s once bewildered features.

Power: Well then, I guess I should thank you for your kindness citizen, and although it’s unbecoming of my kind to accept presents for all our hard-work and staunch dedication to your protection a superhero can always use a nice pick me up.

McPhee watches on with pride and admiration as Max takes a huge gulp from the can. He doesn’t finish it though before pulling it away from his lips and observing the plain gray can, eyeing it closely. A satisfied smile is present on his face as he unleashes an “ahhh,” verbally relaying the delight the juice has given him.

Max: That was mighty good, and now I feel stronger than ever. Thank you McPhee.

Bitchcakes: Anything that I can do to help.

Unable to finish the drink, no matter how empowering it might be, Max hands the can off to Bitchcakes who takes it and lifts it aloft. Power spins in a circle with the edges of his cape gripped in his palms before stopping and staring into the drunken warrior’s face with a nod. He now rises and starts to take off towards the ring with MERCY following.

Power: For your kindness, after my victory tonight, I’ll resolve myself with even greater vigor to find your stolen beer.

Max marches off after patting Bitchcakes on the back, MERCY following behind, with McPhee craning his neck to look down the front of her shirt as she passes. He leans over to watch her pass by before standing up straight and chuckling to himself a bit. Once they are out of ear’s shot his innocent chuckle becomes quite the opposite, turning into a deep, maniacal, evil laugh.

McPhee: Mwahahahaha, hahahahaha, hahahaha...

His fingers reach up and grab the wrapping around the can, ripping it off to reveal the words, “Red Bull.” The camera ominously zooms in upon it.

Bitchcakes: MWAHAHAHAHAHA...ah...argh..

Bitchcakes begins choking and coughing while hitting his chest with the side of his fist.

MAX POWER VS. MYSTERY OPPONENT

HE'S SUPER...HE'S INCREDIBLE...HE'S...
MAX POWERRRRRR!

A sequence of heroic orchestral chords begin to play, leading into "Mighty Wings" by Cheap Trick, which starts with the same basic chord sequence as the custom intro. On the video-tron is a series of high-flying stunts and high-risk moves from Max POWER over the years, interspersed with him flying around a cityscape rather heroically, and even foiling some ACTUAL crimes, as shown by some ACTUAL news clips included.

It's just a ball of dust, underneath my feeeet...

Max POWER emerges from the back heroically, accompanied by his Number-One Cohort, Mistress MERCY, and they stand at the center of the stage heroically. Max puts on a stance but wavers a bit on his feet, barely catching himself before confusion sets into his features.

It goes around the sun; doesn't mean that MUCH to me-eee...

They march and saunter down the ramp heroically, slapping the hands of the fans. Again Power finds himself stumbling a little.

I'll take a chance on the edge of life, just like allll the rest...

They reach the ring and head to the stairs.

I'll look inside, and dig it out, 'cuz there's NO points for SECOND-best!

MERCY goes up the stairs while Max jumps on the apron, then spring-rolls over the ropes as MERCY reaches the apron.

There's a RAGING FIRE in my HEART tonight, (tonight, tonight)
growin' HIGHER and HIGHER in my SO-O-O-OUL...
...There's a RAGING FIRE in the SKY tonight (tonight, tonight)...

Max holds the ropes open so MERCY can enter, and she does, with them both standing heroically in the middle of the ring afterwards.

I wanna ride on the silver dove, far into the NIGHT, 'til I MAKE you TAKE me ON your MIGHTY WINGS...
...MAKE you...TAKE me...ON your MIGHTY WINGS across the SKYYYYYY...

Max climbs the near post but almost falls off before catching himself, while MERCY climbs the adjacent post, and they pose heroically, to the cheers of the crowd.

Take me on your MIGHTY WINGS...take me on your mighty wings TONIIIIIIGGGGGGHTT!

They climb down as the music fades out. MERCY kisses Max on the cheek for luck and leaves the ring to lend support from the outside, while Max waits in an offensive/defensive stance.

Mayne: As if this night couldn’t get anymore special, Dan, now we’ve got standing in the ring before us a living breathing superhero. A man gifted with super human abilities by God above, or thanks to either some kind of interaction with a mysterious toxic gew, a radioactive explosion, hey, maybe he even comes from another planet.

Douglas: All possible scenarios, none of them true or whatsoever probable but indeed possible scenarios. I tell you what though, superhuman abilities aside, Max Power has a tough challenge ahead of him. A diabolical mystery if you will.

Billy: How could AWOL do this? It’s not fair in the slightest that he would force Max Power, a man the thing of myth and lore into this type of environment. It’s unsafe and unsound business practices putting your talent against people they don’t know. There’s no time to prepare, there’s nothing. It’s just not right.

Dan: Well, Max is a superhero, and thus I don’t think he has much to be worried about now does he?

Mayne: Don’t twist my logic against me Dan.

Max is still strutting around the ring almost with his chin lifted and chest heaved outward before him, showing no fear over who he might be stepping into the ring against. He sporadically blinks his eyes though, again almost losing his footing, wavering a bit. The camera cuts to the curtains now, waiting to find out who shall emerge from behind them and make their way to the IWC ring.

Billy: The moment of truth is finally upon us. Who is going to make their IWC return or debut, or be resurrected from the dead, or whatnot here?

Douglas: Rumors have been circulating all week long, and a lot of possible names have been thrown around, but we’re finally going to find out who it is once and for all. The cloud of mystery will be vanished.

The crowd is growing anxious, everyone leaning forward and trying to peek through the curtains to see who is on the other side. Just then Metalingus" plays over the PA as the lights go out. The crowds cheer as smoke fills the stage.

You think you know me?

On this day I see clearly everything has come to life
A bitter place and a broken dream
And we'll leave it all behind

On this day it's so real to me
Everything has come to life
Another chance to chase a dream
Another chance to feel
Chance to feel alive

As the chorus plays, a standing Christian Savior appears before them through a thick amount of smoke. Smiling, he makes his way down to the ring.

Douglas: OH MY GOD! It’s former SCW star Christian Savior!

Mayne: What the hell? Who invited him here? He was just at Rise to Greatness a couple weeks ago!

Sliding into the ring, he smirks confidently at the audience then tilts his head in the direction of Max Power, who tries not to act offended or worried about who he’s seeing across from him.

I'll never long for what might have been.
Regret won't waste my life again.
I won't look back. I'll fight to remain...

Slowing rising to his feet, Savior keeps his eyes locked on the audience as he stands in the centre of the ring.

On this day I see clearly everything has come to life
A bitter place and a broken dream
And we'll leave it all behind

On this day it's so real to me
Everything has come to life.
Another chance to chase a dream
Another chance to feel
Chance to feel alive...

The Rising Phoenix otherwise known as Christian Savior continues to glare into Max Power’s face with a bit of an arrogant expression on his own. Max glares at Mistress MERCY on the outside of the ring while gesturing towards Christian, insisting to know why he’s here. MERCY doesn’t seem to have an answer, merely shrugging her shoulders while the crowd is still going nuts.

Douglas: I can’t believe this, what an addition to the IWC roster Christian Savior will make. A former three time SCW tag team champion, as well as holding the Underground championship, and so many other countless titles. I cannot believe he’s making his IWC debut here tonight on pay-per-view.

Mayne: This isn’t fair. It just isn’t. How was Max Power suppose to prepare for someone who’s never even stepped foot in an IWC ring; even his powers of observation and foretelling can only stretch so far. I hope Christian isn’t thinking he’s going to make an impact tonight, especially against the great Max Power.

The fans are still going wild in the Manhattan Center as both men exchange an odd glare, Max almost feeling uncomfortable with this startling revelation. Finally he sticks out his chest as far as it will go and steps forward, thrusting his hand out in front of himself in a gentlemanly manner. He’s almost showing respect to Christian while Savior stares back and forth at the fans, not sure what to think of this odd behavior. Finally he extends his own hand, placing it in Max’s before Power begins to shake it enthusiastically but apply his super strength grip as well. Christian winces in pain or at least pretends to before Max releases his hand, Savior smiling a bit as he shakes his squashed fingers out in front of himself, as if that squeeze greatly pained him. The crowd has a mixed reaction at the sight of this while Max turns and lifts one arm high into the air, his fist placed to his hip, showing off for the fans now that he’s proved his dominating strength. That’s when Savior steps up behind, underhooking both of his arms then dropping back with a release Dragon suplex. Max is flipped over, crashing onto his chest and face then flopping over onto his knees, raising one finger into the air as if about to say something or complain before his eyes roll to the back of his head and he tumbles onto his spine.

Douglas: A huge release dragon suplex by Christian Savior to start this match off, what a way to make a quick, immediate splash.

Mayne: Christian just did the completely wrong thing when your in the ring with Max Power. Just you wait and see, Savior is going to be smelted by Power’s super heated eye beams, or frozen by his liquid nitrogen breath, then he’ll learn how to treat a superhero with dignity and class.

Mistress MERCY is shocked by what she just witnessed, her hand cupped over her mouth while Max tries to get back to his feet. As soon as he gets a single knee beneath him though, Christian steps in, delivering a thunderous right hand to the side of his face. Power is knocked into a roll across the canvas a result before getting back to his feet. As soon as he does, he’s chopped right across the chest and sent flying backwards into the turnbuckle as a result. With great quickness though, Christian steps in, decking him hard right across the face, then grabbing the top rope, beginning to kick him repeatedly to the mid-section and chest. Savior is all fired up while he climbs the turnbuckle, getting his feet on both sides of Power and then raining down on his face with closed right hands. The crowd counts along with each hard right hand to the features of Max, reaching nine before Power finally counters. He reaches up, wrapping his arms around Christian’s waist with his shoulder buried to his gut, dragging him out of the corner. Max charges him forward to the center of the ring and then pulls him down for a Manhattan Drop testicles first onto his knees. Instead though, Christian pushes himself off his shoulder, landing in front of Power who has fallen to one knee. Max looks shocked before he jumps to his feet and charges forward only for Christian to dive into the air and connect with a hard reverse heel kick right to Power’s chest and face. Max is knocked to the canvas once again, rolling over before Christian gets to his feet quickly and rushes in, catching him around the neck, delivering a quick swinging neckbreaker.

Power is driven hard to the ring then rolls across it quickly, spilling to the outside as he lands on his feet upon the mats. He immediately thrusts his fists against his hips and sticks his jaw out again, trying to look heroic even amongst some boos from the fans. Mistress MERCY is right there to catch him though as she runs in, placing her hands to his shoulders, keeping him upright so that he can maintain his pose. Christian doesn’t allow him much breathing room though, stepping to the ropes and grabbing the top one. He pulls himself over into a huge crossbody only for Max to step out of the way at the last second. Christian thinks quickly though, instead landing on his feet right in front of Power who promptly back kicks him right in the gut and takes him by the hair. He grabs his wrist as well, whipping him with all his force right into the steel plated barricade. MERCY barely has time to clear out of the way as Christian flies by her and slams with force across the back of his head and shoulders into the steel. He bounces off and collapses onto his back as a result, sitting spine first against it while Power spins in circles with his forearm thrust out before him. He turns to face Christian who is already pulling himself up to his feet with the use of the barricade. The dazed Savior stands up while Max climbs onto the apron, waiting for him to get all the way to an upright base. Just as Savior starts to move forward, Power rushes across the apron then dives off, twisting in mid-air to connect with a senton pancha right into the Rising Phoenix, knocking both men down hard to the mats.

Mayne: Haha, yes, the superhero flies into the rescue with a great senton pancha that knocks this former SCW slime right on his ass.

Douglas: Max finally getting in some offense after that un-superhero like grasping of the hair leading into a whip against the IWC barricade. I wouldn’t refer to Savior as SCW slime either, as I do believe him being here means he is now an authentic member of our roster.

Max Power grabs Christian by the hair, dragging him up to his feet once more before scooping him up and slamming him down on the thin protective mats. Savior sits up, grinding his teeth but refusing to shout out in pain even when Power stomps him to the back of the head. Somehow Christian is already rolling to his feet, trying to stand up before Power rushes in, burying his shoulder to his gut and forcing him spine first into the hard ring apron. Savior bounces off it hard, his back arching over the side of the ring before Max grasps his hair once more, turning him to face the squared circle. He pulls back on his head and slams him down face first off the apron, Christian almost falling over before Power takes hold of him and keeps him standing long enough to roll him back into the ring. Christian rolls onto his elbows and knees while Power slides in himself then jumps over his back, catching the Rising Phoenix around the neck and thigh. He pulls him over onto the back of his shoulders into a mahistrial cradle.

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2

Savior gets his shoulder off the ring, falling over onto his side now then sitting up before Power scoots behind him. He hooks one of Christian’s arms from behind then interlocks his legs around the other, dragging him over into a crucifix pin, a quick one at that.

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2

Wait, no Christian kicks out by rolling over in reverse but using his strength to keep the superhero Max Power on his shoulders, still trying to take him over into another crucifix. Savior doesn’t let this happen though, standing up with Max Power on his shoulder then jumping forward. He connects with a Finlay roll, his entire body collapsing hard across the chest and stomach of Power before ending up on his feet at his side. Once they are planted beneath him, Christian shows his great agility by performing a huge standing moonsault right on top of Power, immediately finishing it up with a hook of the leg.

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2

Power now finds himself the one kicking out quickly and sitting up on the canvas. As soon as he does though, Christian buries his knee into his spine and then interlocks his hands around his jaw. He has him in a rear chin lock, applied with expertise and great enthusiasm, leaving Max in a great deal of pain.

Dan: A beautiful standing moonsault, followed up with a well timed rear chinlock. Savior is trying to slow down the quick Max Power, making him incapable of connecting with any of that fast paced offense like we’ve seen throughout the early goings of this contest.

Mayne: Max is faster than a speeding locomotive, or a fired bullet, he can’t slow him down, although I must admit, I’m perplexed as to why Power just doesn’t seem himself this evening.

Savior’s knee is dug deeply into Max’s spine while he tries to push himself up though, he’s immediately fighting his way to his feet. Just as he gets up, Christian is forced to take his knee away from his back, but steps forward, trying to lock in a sleeper at this point. Max ducks his head and slides behind his back though, placing his hands to his spine and then shoving him off and forward into the cables. Christian bounces off, coming back in before Max jumps into the air for a huge hurricarana, however, Savior catches him on his shoulders and delivers a quick powerbomb. All the air is driven from Max’s lungs as he hits the ring hard, Savior grabbing his legs and lifting them into the air before he jumps forward. His spine comes down on top of Max’s chest while he holds the back of his legs, keeping him in a jacknife cover.

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2

Max suddenly wraps his arms around Savior’s waist, bridging both men up off the canvas. As soon as they stand, Max spins Christian around so that his head is stuck under his seat, holding him in a piledriver position. He tries to lift up on him in order to get him up for the slam but Savior fights it. Instead he lands right back on his feet then twists around with his body, freeing his cranium from under Max’s legs while in the process grabbing hold of Power’s arm. He spins to face Max then drags him forward by the gripped wrist, going for a short arm clothesline. Power ducks it though and jumps into the air, getting some height as he grabs the back of Christian’s head, dragging him down into a huge reverse neckbreaker. Christian hits the ring with force before sitting up, wrapping his hands around the back of his neck. While in this seated position Max gets to his feet behind him and dives forward, placing his hands around the back of Christian’s head. He snaps it forward while flipping over him then rolls right back onto his feet, turning and diving forward with a hard basement dropkick directly into Savior’s face. Christian is knocked onto his back while Max gets to his knees, quickly scooting across them and dropping into the cover.

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2

Again Christian shoots his shoulder from the canvas, kicking out in the nick of time while Power rises to a knee, only momentarily allowing a look of frustration to creep over his features. He quickly rises though and buries his hands to his hips, formulating a plan to take care of this devious fiend. Mistress MERCY is shouting his praises and encouraging him from the outside of the ring while Max briefly gives her a thumbs up. He now steps over Christian and grabs both his wrist and his ankle, dragging him towards the ropes. Power spins around to face the cables and grabs the top one, using it to pull himself into the air before he extends his legs, dropping them on the rope as he flips over backwards for the Arabian press. Somehow Christian lifts his foot straight up into the air though, causing Max’s face to hit it as a result before falling onto his feet, staggering in reverse as a result.

Mayne: What the hell? Nobody can stop Max Power when he’s taken flight!

Douglas: I think Christian Savior did with a boot strike directly to his face that knocked him right back over onto his feet. What a quick counter, and some quick thinking from Savior!

Max is staggering around still, his back turning to face Savior who gets up, motioning with the twiddling of his fingers for him to spin around. He seems to be setting for his version of the diamond cutter already. As soon as Max spins to face him, Christian turns, jumping into the air and catching him around the neck. However, Power places his palm to his chest and shoves him down to the canvas with force, breaking him off the diamond cutter position. As soon as Christian hits the ring hard with his back, Max jumps into the air and over top of him, connecting with a double stomp directly to his ribs. Max then drops off, rolling across the ring while Christian covers his mid-section, turning onto his side and wincing in pain as a result. Mistress MERCY is cheering loudly outside of the ring, turning and waving for the fans to stand up in order to show their excitement for their own personal hero. More boos and cat calls come from the fans though while Max steps towards Christian, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him up to his feet, immediately placing his arm around his neck. He’s holding him in a reverse DDT position before he lifts his leg into the air, swinging it around and placing it over top of Christian’s throat. He drops down with his leg across the Rising Phoenix’s neck, dropping him with an usual version of the reverse DDT. The agile, flexible Max Power then turns so that he can push both his knees into both of Christian’s shoulders, pinning them down to the canvas while placing his fists to his hips again.

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Christian lifts up with his legs though, wrapping them around in front of Power’s shoulders while sitting up. This forces Max over in reverse with his own shoulders being placed to the canvas now, Christian burying his into the back of his opponent’s thighs.

1

Max rolls over in reverse while Christian does the same. Both men reach a standing base at the same time before Power comes charging in with a great burst of speed, throwing a lariat that Christian ducks under. He thrusts his arms out over Max’s chest then pushes him over backwards into a hard STO back breaker. Max shouts out in pain though, reaching for his spine before Christian stands him up straight, still holding him across the chest then grabbing him by the tights. He lifts him up into the air and then throws him down at the canvas with a uranage slam. Power’s body connects with force upon the impact while Christian steps over him towards the turnbuckle, beginning to climb it quickly. He gets to the top rope with his back aimed in the down Power’s direction before jumping off and twisting through the air. He connects with a corkscrew tornado moonsault, but finds himself hitting nothing but canvas as a result, Max Power having rolled out of the way before he could be hit with the move.

Mayne: Okay, time for you to give Power some props for his quick thinking now. Do it Dan, do it or forever be labeled as bias!

Douglas: Um, okay, alright, Max was thinking on his back that time.

Billy: Thank you, now admit I’m God.

Dan: I think your taking it a little too far...

Mayne: Admit it!

In the ring Christian is reeling from the impact with the canvas, trying to push himself up to his feet while Max charges into the cables behind him. He bounces off and comes back in before flipping up and over top of Christian’s back, catching him around the neck with a reverse blockbuster. The result of which slams Christian off the canvas face first, causing him to stand up right while Max rolls onto his feet and charges into the cables in front of him. He springs into the air, landing feet first on the second rope then bouncing off as he turns around to land right on top of Christian’s shoulders. He snaps over backwards into a huge hurricarana, flipping Savior onto the back of his shoulders while Max sits on his chest. He catches both of his legs under his arms for the pin.

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3!

The crowd screams as Christian kicks out right before the third slap of the canvas could be made. Power is launched forward as a result, landing on his elbows and knees, briefly appearing stunned that he didn’t get the pinfall with that last combination of moves. With his hair a mess he rises to his feet and turns in the direction of a slowly rising Christian Savior, preparing to finally finish him off. As Christian gets to a standing base, struggling to reach his feet, Max steps in, kicking him hard right to the face. The impact causes Savior to stand up straight before Max grabs him by the hair, leading him towards the turnbuckle. He buries his shoulder into his gut and lifts him into the air, sitting him on the top rope before turning his back towards him. He reaches up, grabbing both of Christian’s arms and crossing them in front of one another, preparing for a Driving Iconoclasm, his Insane-Asylum. The fans scream as he prepares to hit it, but can’t get a fighting Christian over his head and off the turnbuckle. The Rising Phoenix is fighting it before he knees Max to the back of the head, standing up on the turnbuckle in order to do so. He drives his knee into the back of his skull several times, causing Power to release his arms as Christian now jumps over his head. Instead of going completely over though he lands on the back of it, causing Max to be bent forward with Savior basically straddling the back of his skull. He reaches down, grabbing one wrist, then the other, lifting his arms into the air before jumping upward. He drags Max up with him as well before driving him down face first into the canvas with Christian coming down posterior first on top of him with the reverse predigree.

Douglas: What a move by Christian Savior!

Mayne: And how come you haven’t been lamenting over the sheer brilliance of Power’s moves? They’ve been much more flashier and prettier!

Christian ducks his head and rolls forward across the canvas onto his knees before turning to face Power who is trying his best to reach his feet. He is shaking his head after that hard impact with the canvas while getting to all fours before Christian comes charging forward and stepping onto one of his shoulders before delivering a hard kick right to the back of Max’s head with his other foot. The collision knocks Power out cold it seems, sending him crashing to the canvas chest first with Christian stumbling forward into the ropes, turning to face him now with a renewed vigor, all fired up. Max is starting to get to his feet slowly, gripping the back of his head at this point before Christian steps up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist. He lifts him up off his feet into a hard German suplex, Power hitting the canvas with force across the back of his neck and shoulders. Savior keeps his arms wrapped around Max’s waist though, rolling over onto his knees and then forcing Power up to his feet once again. With a large grunt Savior lifts him again only for Max to reach back with his arm and wrap it around Christian’s neck. Instead of being sent over backwards into a German, Max pushes off with his legs, flipping over Savior’s shoulders with what almost looks like a sliced bread number 2. Instead though he twists around to bury his knees into Christian’s back and pull him down with a sliced bread back cracker combination. The crowd erupts into shock at the sight of this as Savior bounces off the knee caps of Power and falls onto his chest and stomach, reaching for his spine in a great deal of pain. Max rolls towards him, pushing him onto his spine with a hook of the leg.

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Somehow Savior kicks out in time, causing Max to rise to his knees, slapping the canvas with both hands before jumping to his feet with his fists buried to his hips. He gives a foul stare in the official’s direction before turning to face Christian once again as he tries to sit up on the canvas, still holding the back of his neck. That’s before Power drops down behind him, hooking on arm with his own and the other with his leg, applying a seated abdominal stretch. Christian grinds his teeth, gritting them across one another while trying to fight out of this hold expertly applied by the superhero. Anger and anguish permeates from the features of Savior while he valiantly tries to force himself up to his feet. He can’t manage to do it though with Power holding on so tightly with the abdominal stretch, really ripping and tearing at the muscles in Christian’s spine, as well as throughout his mid-section.

Mayne: Christian about to be ripped apart by the man of steel, or whatever Max dubs himself. There’s no way he can escape this hold considering Max’s strength can be compared to the dragging ability of twenty mules.

Douglas: Yeah, I’d like to compare him and yourself to a couple of jackasses as well.

Billy: The guys from MTV?

Winces of pain are stretched over Christian’s body while he tries his best to get up to his feet. An outraged Power is rising to his feet behind him, still trying to hold onto the submission with all of his rippling upper body strength. Just as they get to their feet though, Christian unleashes a grunt and hip tosses Power over his shoulder, then turns so that he catches Max out of the hip toss into a big reverse neckbreaker. The crowd reacts with cheers at the sight of the huge counter as Max crashes with force against the canvas, sitting up and gripping the back of his neck in pain. Christian rolls back and forth, still grimacing from the pain in his upper spine between his shoulder blades while the superhero Max Power is already starting to rise to his feet. He shakes his head with sweat dripping from his features before he steps towards the slowly rising Christian, throwing a big punch. Savior blocks it and connects with a strike of his own that staggers Max. But Power plants his feet and moves forward with another punch that Savior blocks before responding with one more shot, falling to his knees throughout the process. Max again shakes off the effects and steps forward, throwing one more punch that is blocked before Savior answers back with a lobbed fist of his own. He begins to throw punch after punch into Max’s face, backing him up before rifling off with forearm strikes directly across his jaw, almost breaking it. Max is knocked backwards as a result with each blow to his face before Savior grabs him by the wrist, whipping him with all of his strength straight at the turnbuckle behind his back. Max turns though, thinking quickly by providing a counter, instead whipping Christian towards the corner. Savior runs into with Max charging behind him, but then reaches out, wrapping his hands around the top rope, keeping from connecting sternum first with the top turnbuckle pad. He then turns and delivers a back elbow right to Max’s face, causing him to stagger in reverse before Christian backs out of the corner and wraps his arm around his neck, again setting for the RKO. Before he can hit it though, Max places his hands to his spine, shoving him off forward into the turnbuckle, this time Savior spinning around and connecting with it spine first. Max then puts on another superhero pose before rushing forward with a great burst of speed only for Savior to step out of the corner, lobbing a lariat at his head. Power ducks it though and then steps up the turnbuckle, getting to the top rope and flipping over backwards into a moonsault. Christian ducks it though as Max flies right over his head, landing directly on his feet with incredible grace before Savior steps out of the corner and superkicks him directly to the jaw with devastating force. The crowd cringes at the sight of the strike, but cheer accordingly as Max stands there dazed for a second, spit flying from his mouth until he finally tumbles onto his back. Savior turns and falls spine first on top of him, hooking his leg.

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3!

Savior has done it, sitting up on the canvas with his arms raised aloft and sweat streaming down his somewhat tired, aching frame, officially winning his IWC debut match.

Douglas: Savior caught Max with the superkick out of nowhere and has scored the win over the superhero in his IWC debut! What an impact, what a statement made here tonight.

Mayne: I don’t believe this, it isn’t fair, it isn’t fair whatsoever! Somebody put a little star next to the match in the record books, because I want it to be noted that Max was screwed here tonight, both by not knowing who opponent was and some shady officiating.

Dan: Billy, why must all your commentary originate from your asshole? Anyway, this a big win for Christian Savior in his official debut, showing us all why we should be glad he’s officially a member of the IWC roster.

Christian stands up, lifting his arms high in the air while Mistress MERCY slides into the ring, crawling towards Max and wrapping her hands around the back of his head, holding it up with a sad expression on her face. Savior steps towards the turnbuckle, climbing up it before thrusting a single arm high into the air, getting a tremendous ovation as a result.

Douglas: Christian Savior is in the IWC, the rest of the roster better keep their eyes open!

STRAINED ALLIANCES

Another loud mixed ovation pours and echoes through the almost empty solid white corridors backstage, save for one troubled individual marching in the direction of the camera. His head is lowered and his hand cups his jaw, rubbing at it in deep introspection. A great deal of turmoil resides within his mind and his heart while moving at a slow pace down the seemingly endless hallway. The Icon, Orlando Cruze no longer seems to be filled with the same rage he depicted earlier in the show. While it is still present within him, eating away at him, his anger has become overshadowed with queries and concerns. Before he has a chance to come to a full understanding a figure steps into the scene before him, the one and only Nathan Creed. Another loud outburst of cheers and boos emanate from the anxious crowd as Creed steps towards his partner, but opponent for the evening, Orlando, grabbing him by the shoulder. He spins Orlando around so that his eyes are taken off the floor beneath his feet and raised to finally register the presence of an equally as troubled, but more clear minded Creed.

Nathan: Orlando, bro, I just saw what happened out there man. It’s just like I warned you last week, I knew something was going to happen, and I know this S.K prick is behind it.

Orlando nods slowly and unsurely, his open palm sliding over his face before he shrugs, displaying his lack of confidence.

Orlando: Yeah, maybe...

The look of confusion on Cruze’s face distresses Nathan, who’s eyebrow arches and features tense.

Nathan: Maybe? What’s that suppose to mean?

Strangely Orlando can’t even bring himself to explain his doubts, his reservations over rather Nathan is truly trustworthy or not. Yet his long time friend and former rival seems quite capable of getting a clue. Cruze doesn’t have to say anything to offend Creed, the look in his eyes accomplish it well enough.

Nathan: Hold on, your not actually buying this bullshit are you?

Again the Icon shrugs in favor of giving a clear cut response. Rather words are said or not, Nathan’s outrage continues to grow.

Creed: Come on, it’s obvious that someone is playing games with us Orlando. They’re trying to get into our heads. They see that together we’re a threat, so now they’re trying to force us apart, force us to go against one another. You see that, right? Evan this plot should be obvious enough to you?

There is still no reply from Cruze who continues to ponder and weigh all he’s heard this evening, both Creed, and this mysterious figure having good points.

Orlando: I don’t know what to believe right now, Creed. You have to admit that the timing behind this attack was a little convienant, and that there have been numerous times in the past where you’ve stabbed me in the back.

Creed: What? I don’t believe I’m hearing this.

Clearly outraged Creed steps back away from his friend, staring into his eyes to see if this is what he’s truly thinking.

Nathan: What am I going to have to do in order to show you that I’m a changed person? That I’m being set up? That someone is out to break us apart and make us easier targets?

Cruze: Your right, your right. I got no right to question your loyalties, let’s just put this behind us and concentrate on the match tonight....

Cruze reaches out to place a soothing, comforting hand on Nathan’s shoulder but he quickly pushes it away. He knows Orlando’s words bear no real meaning, due to the lack of emotion in his voice. Angry and feeling provoked, Creed steps in towards his teammate, lifting a finger to the front of his face.

Creed: I never thought I’d hear this from you Orlando. Not from you. I realize that you’ve got trust issues, and that your lack of faith in people was even enough to drive Lethal Weapon away, but I thought much like myself, you had changed. Now I see that I’m wrong. I see that the only person around here who has grown is me. I can’t believe you’d take the word of some backstage lurker over your best friend.

Orlando: If I didn’t trust you Nathan, we wouldn’t be having this match against one another tonight, now would we? But if you’ve got to give me more reason to want to trust you. I need to rely on you Creed, just like you need to rely on me. I can’t have you turn on me when the going gets tough and you see your opportunity to make a name for yourself again. Give me a reason to trust you Creed.

Nathan steps up in almost a threatening manner so that both men are nose to nose. The entire body of the former X-Class Champion is shivering in anger, yet he tries to keep from imploding.

Nathan: Maybe you should be the one trying to prove to me that you’re the one who’s trustworthy. I’ve done everything I know possible to prove that you can rely on me, that I can be trusted, but you’ve done nothing. All you’ve done is listen to the ravings of some lunatic, and been unable to so much as even look me in the eyes. Time will tell who can be trusted Cruze, oh yes, it will. Then you’ll soon learn that I’m not the same pompous son of a bitch loner I was so long ago. But will you be able to say the same about yourself?

It’s true, as Orlando is incapable of bringing himself to look into Nathan’s eyes as the Future takes a step back, seeming done with his rant. That’s before he provides one final closing comment.

Creed: I got a match to get ready for. I don’t have time to stand back here and deal with your damn paranoia.

Nathan turns and starts to walk off before his wrist is grabbed by his teammate, Orlando trying to stop him. Yet Creed quickly pulls away and keeps on marching. He doesn’t turn back to stare into the sympathetic, apologetic eyes of the Icon, who just watches him leave with even heavier emotional baggage on his shoulders now.

AURORA ROSE VS. PAT EVANS

Dan: Coming up next is a match that is sure to be balls to the walls.

Billy: But only one of them has balls, Dan.

Dan: It’s an expression.

Billy: One from a dumbass.

“Outsider” plays throughout the arena. The lights dim and fade to black. After a few moments of the opening piano chord being played, a spotlight shines down on Pat Evans as he walks out from the back. The crowd boos, showing what they think of him here tonight, as he makes his way down the ramp, but Evans merely ignores their fanfare and walks up to the ring. He looks up at it before walking to the steel steps. He then walks along the apron and enters the ring. He takes off his black trenchcoat, placing it on the top rope in the far corner before pacing the ring as his music fades out. He backs into his corner and leans forward, eyes like needles, waiting for Aurora Rose to come out. The red and black lights fill the arena as “Why Do You Love Me” from Garbage plays. The fans erupt in cheering as a calm but confident Aurora Rose walks from the back. She steps on the stage and raises her hand up with her rocker gesture. She looks around before hopping down the ramp, slapping the hands of the fans as she passes and rolling under the ring. She runs to her corner and jumps to the middle ropes and raises her hands for the crowds. She looks back to see Evens still sitting in his corner eyes completely on her. She jumps down and steps towards the middle of the ring. Evans does as well as the bell rings and they lock up. Evans right into a side headlock, Rose to the ropes and pushes him off, She leapfrogs, he bounces again, drop toe hold, Rose jump on him with a side headlock. Evans does not stay down but raises himself to him feet and throws Rose off to the ropes. Clothyesline, she ducks. Rose jumps to the middle rope, jumps off, wraps her legs around the head of Evans, head scissors. The fans erupt in cheering as they both get up. Rose with a dropkick. Faster than one can tell, she is back on her feet and runs to the ropes. As Evans gets to his knees, she already has a short dropkick to his chest. Evans hits the mat and rolls form the ring as the fans are exploding with praise for Aurora.

Dan: Look at this. Aurora Rose using her speed against this dangerous man in Pat Evans. Evans has already retreated to the outside.

Billy: I’ll give it to Aurora. But Evans is being smart and is trying to slow this down now and disrupt the momentum.

Evans jumps to the ring on one knee and steps in. He points at Aurora and begins to circle her. She just smiles at him and tells him to bring it. He charges with a clothesline, she ducks and runs to the other end. He turns and goes for another clothesline. She ducks, hooks, swings around, and lands a speedy DDT. She covers

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Kickout by Evans. She is quick to her feet and pulls him up. Evans with a knee to Rose’s gut and throws her to a corner. She hits the corenr and climbs up before jumping back with a corkscrew plancha. Evans flails around for a few moments before getting to his feet. Rorse charges him from behind and ramsn him into a corner and pulls him back into a roll up for the

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3

Barely escapes and rolls form the ring. Evans is staggering a bit on the outside as he tries to get his barings. He looks into the ring and grabs the back of his head.

Dan: Aurora once again forcing Pat Evans to the outside to regroup. She came out here with a plan and it seems to be working to the T.

Billy: Well, she may be doing well now. But sooner or later she is going to make a mistake and Evans is going to use his strength against her. And his complete lack of caring for anyone.

Evans slowly walks up the steps and gets back in the ring. He edges close to her before kicking her in the gut and following up with a hard right hand with knocks her back. Rose is quick to reply with a hard forearm to his head. She follows up with one more before he charges and drives a knee into her gut grabs her by the hair and pulls her back, slamming her head to the mat. He drops an elbow, she rolls out of the way and to her feet. As Evans gets back to his feet, Rose has already bounces to the ropes and is in the air with a spinning heel kick which knocks him down as he rolls form the ring once again. Evans struts around the ring before coming to the time keepers position and leaning on the table. He looks back at the ring to keep an eye on Aurora. Pat slowly walks around the ring to his corner and climbs the stairs. HE slowly steps in and slowly approaches Rose to lock up. Just before the lock up, he jets back to his corner and puts his body through the ropes. As Rose comes forward, the ref tells her to back off. Evans gets out of the ropes and steps around the ring holding onto the ropes. He edges toward Rose before dropping to the mat and rolling under the bottom rope to the outside. He walks around the ring back to the stairs as he steps up and puts one leg in the ring then comes back out. The fans are irate as they boo him, Aurora complaining to the ref. Evans walks back and forth before stepping back into the ring, slaps his shoulders as if he was to lock up. He then tells Aurora to lock wth him. As they do, Evans changes directions and dives through the top and middles ropes and goes to the outside. Evans walks up the entrance ramp a few steps. Aurora runs to the far rope, bounces, jumps up over the top rope. Evans turns, and gets out of the way as she comes crashing to the outside mat. Evans charges and begins to relentlessly stomp her in the head and body.

Billy: Look at that. He got Aurora frustrated and made her make a mistake.

Dan: Good strategy by Pat Evans. And he now is taking firm control of this match.

Billy: Now he can show that dumb bitch crack whore.

Dan: Are you still sore because she wouldn’t let you take her out?

Evans grabs her by the hair and leads her back up the isle and slams her into the steps. He charges and kicks her in the gut and right against the steps. He pulls her up and rolls her into the ring. He pulls her up and puts her in a powerbomb position. He lifts her up, but falls back and clotheslines her on the tope rope. Aurora grabs her throat and rolls around the irng. Pat stalks over her and stomps her in the back of the head. He pulls her arm up and locks in a triangle choke hold and falls back.

Dan: This is what Evans needs to keep doing. Keep the fast and resourceful Aurora Rose on the mat and eliminate both the speed and aerial foundations.

Aurora struggles to get out of this, but Evans cinches in the arm and his leg around the head of Rose. She kicks and tries to pull herself to the ropes, and she finally does. Evans still holds onto the lock. The ref counts to 4 before he lets go. As the ref warns Pat, she just shrugs him off and pulls Rose to her feet, front face lock, single U-hook, spinning neck breaker. He covers

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Kickout by Rose. He does not look disappointed but slowly gets up and pulls Aurora up as well. He steps beside her, lock a leg with one of his own and hits a Russian Leg Sweep. He slowly rolls back to his feet and pulls Aurora ot the middle of the ring and locks in another triangle choke submission.

Billy: I love this. He’s goes right back to the triangle choke. He’s focusing on that arm and neck of Aurora Rose. With neither of those body parts working, she can’t get a full impact on her Sinful Desires. He’s eliminating her top move, while bring out her other best move.

Dan: Her other best move?

Billy: She’s on her back, right?

Dan: Damn it, I walked right into that one.

Aurora struggles and kicks up to try to jerk herself to the ropes, which she does again. The ref once again counts to 4 before Pat breaks the hold. The ref gives him another warning as he just ignores and drops a knee to her head. He pulls her up but she grabs his head, puts her head to his jaw and drops to her knees. She goes to one knee now and drives a forearm into his gut before quickly hitting a twist of fate. The fans are on their feet and screaming as she slowly rolls over and covers for the

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Shoulder up by Evans. She slowly tries to get to her feet as Evans does. She runs to the ropes, bounces off, Evans catches her and throws her up in the air, re positions himself, jumps, grabs her over his shoulders and drops back with a Samoan drop. He sits up and tries to work the cobwebs from his head after that twist of fate. He steps to his feet and pulls her up from behind and locks in a full nelson. He widens his base and just whips her back and forth before pulling her up and hitting a dragon suplex.

Dan: Pat Evans goes right back to work on the arms and neck of Aurora Rose. She got a quick move off, but not enough to be able to put him down. This strategy is working.

Billy: That it is, and he’s not finished yet.

Pat steps over to the corner, turns around and lifts himself to the middle rope. He jumps off and drops a leg across Aurora’s chest. He covers her.

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Shoulder up by Rose. Evans gets back up, pulls Rose up, and scoop slams her. Her then steps through the ropes and climbs up a corner. In the process, Aurora gets to one knee, leaps to the ropes and pulls on the top causing Evans top fall and rack himself on the top turnbuckle. The fans are cheering as Rose gets back to her feet, charges, and lands a forearm to the head of Evans. She delivers a few more before grabbing both wrists of Evans and spinning around. With everything she has left she pulls him off with a monkey flip, sits down, and crashes Evans down, arms crossed to a huge ovation from the fans. The sitting Aurora Rose just falls back completely exhausted.

Fans: IWC! IWC! IWC! IWC!

Dan: XiBalba (Entrance To Hell) I don’t believe it. Where in the hell did Rose pull that one out of?

Billy: This is not happening!

Dan: If she can cover, that should be it!

As the fans are still cheering and Pat Evans is just down, Aurora lifts and arm up and slowly rolls over. She pushes herself up and crawls a few steps to Evans and finally drops on him, one arm over

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3!

Dan: THAT WAS TOO CLOSE!!!

Billy: Pat Evans with enough presence of mind to get the shoulder up at the last possible moment.

Dan: If Rose could have gotten enough of her body on his she might have taken this one.

Billy: So, she can’t even lay on a guy the right way anymore.

Aurora looks up at the ref in complete disbelief. Evans is grabbing the back of his neck as he tries to get to one knee. Rose is back on her feet and sees him. She runs to the roeps,bounces, and flips over him with a neck breaker. She rolls to her feet, jumps to the middle rope, turns while jumping off, and lands a leg drop right to his chest. She gets back to her feet, loks around at the cheering fans, and gives her rocker gesture. She grabs him by the head into a bulldog, runs to the ropes, jumps, kicks off with her feet, Evans gets under her, turns and grabs her so her back is on his shoulder, grabs her arms and hits his crucifix bomb. Evans drops to all fours and breathes in heavily. He slowly gets up and pulls Rose to the middle of the ring and re-applies his triangle choke. Rose is out, the ref checks, and calls for the bell.

Dan: Wow! What a match. I can’t believe Pat Evans could recover enough to win this match again.

Billy: Pat Evans has a gift and will be a top contender one day.

The official checks on the condition of Aurora, bending over her and trying to snap his fingers so that she'll wake up. Finally Rose begins to regain consciousness, trying to sit up with her eye batting in great confusion. She shakes her head and grips the back of her neck in pain after being forced to pass out to that triangle choke. Pat Evans is already walking up the ramp with a conniving smirk residing on his face, but otherwise showing no other emotion. A figure now slides into the ring, having appeared out from under it as the crowd starts to have a mixed reaction, realizing this mysterious individual was waiting in the wings this entire time. Rose is still feeling at her neck before she looks up and spots the gentlemen, strangely dressed in a Michael Myers mask. He lurks over Rose who stares at him in confusion and then rolls across the ring, quickly vacating it under the ropes. The odd individual clad in the Myers costume follows her with his eyes but does not give pursuit, he just stands ther, ominously lurking in the center of the ring.

Douglas: What in the world? Who is that? Is this the individual who's been stalking Aurora?

Mayne: Somebody has been watching one too many scary movies. I don't like horror flicks, it takes me weeks to be able to sleep with the lights off afterwards, and even then I have to hire a private security force to check under my bed every half an hour before I can fall asleep.

Aurora staggers up the ramp, holding the back of her neck and watching with confused eyes as the mysterious figment loiters in the ring, observing her with cruel, malice filled eyes.

UNITED

The camera shifts backstage abruptly, turning away from the tremendous action just witnessed during that one on one singles bout, and bringing the viewers to a collection of unmatched talent residing backstage. Standing at the forefront is none other than AWOL, the General Manager clad in street attire, yet prepared for the violence that is moments from erupting in the form of the main event. On either side of him is located Jon Rich, also dressed in street style attire, cracking his knuckles with the N.H.B title almost sliding off his shoulder, while Chapel is located on his opposite side. He too has a belt shimmering in his possession, the Livewire soon to be re-branded, Cartel title. Much like AWOL he’s adorned in a pear of blue jeans a black IWC t-shirt. Rounding out the group is Psycho, who stares forward staunchly and with a great deal of intensity. All four men share a glare of passion, and unbridled anger, psyching themselves up mentally for the contest that rests ahead. Susie Moore is located before them with the IWC symbol located behind their backs, as is the norm for your standard interview area.

Susie: Hello IWC fans, this is Susie Moore standing back here with team IWC after the tremendous performance in that square thingy out there just a few seconds ago.

Her attention shifts to GM AWOL, who’s jaw is crunching back and forth, his teeth grinding together while he plots exactly what shall be done to the Alpha Generation in just a few moments.

Moore: AWOL, tonight, you quite possibly finish a feud that has been waging between yourself and the Alpha Generation for over a year now. How does it feel realizing that your vendetta against the Alpha Generation has finally led to this point here at.....

Susie has a blank expression on her face for a moment before she finally lifts her open palm, staring into it with a scowl.

Susie:....Um, Horn Afin?

The mic is thrust out directly in front of AWOL’s lips while he just stands there for a second with his jaw pushed out in an imposing manner.

AWOL: I’m just going to pretend your question made the slightest bit of sense and was whatsoever educated. For you see, obvious mispronunciations of the pay-per-view name aside, you also got something else horribly mistaken in your generic idiotic rambling. You so boldly implied that this was my war, my vendetta. It isn’t.

AWOL gives her an almost cold stare that makes Susie wrap her fingers around the crucifix hanging from her neck in the process.

AWOL: This isn’t a war I started so long ago, but it will be one that we, yes, we....

Gestures towards the gathering of talent behind him.

AWOL:... Will end right here tonight at Born Again. This isn’t just my fight, it’s a battle all these men are willing to rage for the sanctity, for the survival of this company, of this entire roster. Men like Psycho...

The camera shifts abruptly to the Sadistic One who’s disfigured features raise a bit with a frightening smile cutting across his face.

AWOL: A man who has a personal issue with each and everyone of the Alpha Generation in some form or capacity. But even he is looking past his issues, his animosity directed at those men in favor of fighting this battle for a much more important, much bigger reason. He’s in this match tonight not simply because the World Champion burnt the flesh on his face so long ago, not because his former tag team partner is standing on the opposite side of the ring, he’s here because he’s standing up for something bigger than him, bigger than all of us. Then there’s Jon Rich....

A loud cheer comes from the crowd amassed in the building as the camera turns to face the N.H.B Champion, perking up a bit at the mention of his name.

AWOL: He didn’t agree to be part of this match because he simply doesn’t like Desolation. He’s not standing in that ring side by side with the Big Crazy Bastard due to personal animosity and issues with Jackson Adams, no, no, and this certainly doesn’t have anything to do with a former mentor who cast him aside. The reason he’s in this match is because he’s taking a stand, he’s fighting for a company that he believes in, a company he doesn’t want to see destroyed by a wave of tyranny known as the Alpha Generation.

Susie wipes a tear from her eye as this speech continues, AWOL turning towards Chapel finally, the Livewire title holder not adjusting his eyes to take in the sight of the GM though. He just stares forward, displaying little emotion other than the intensity that is thick in his eyes.

AWOL: And then there’s Chapel, the War Angel, my former tag team partner turned mortal enemy. For years in ULW we tried to do nothing short of end one another’s careers in violent hardcore matches, singles bouts, and the most grotesque bloodbaths the likes of which have never been seen again. But now look at us, we stand together united once again as the Holy War, with one single goal, one single purpose, to stop the company we’ve dedicated our lives too from being ripped apart, from being oblithered at the hands of a power hungry army. If that doesn’t tell you how important this war is, I don’t know what will.

The camera zooms in on the angry, emotional features of AWOL, who stare straight forward into the lens, not turning away or deviating his attention whatsoever. Entirely focused.

AWOL: This evening, here at Born Again, there won’t be anymore flag planting, from behind attacks, undeserving employment terminations, assassination attempts, and unconventional underhanded assaults. For tonight, we meet in the field of battle, and only one force, one dominant entity will emerge victorious. The Alpha Generation’s attempt to demoralize and destroy this roster has done only one thing, strengthen their resolve to stand together and fight! The AG has created a beast they’ll be incapable of defeating. The war ends tonight in the very first official battle, and in the end one roster will stand united over the bloodied, bludgeoned bodies of their oppressors.

The trio of stars gathered around AWOL nod their heads respectfully, agreeing with everything just uttered by the General Manager. A loud snivel can be heard as all eyes abruptly turn towards Susie, who has tears in her eyes, trying to fan herself off though with the palm of her hand.

Susie: Sorry, that was just so beautiful. Hold me.

Susie puts the side of her face on Jon Rich’s shoulder while he looks around in confusion, not sure what to do or how to react. AWOL steps forward though and overlooks his teammates now, his eyes scanning their determined, resolute faces.

AWOL: Are you guys ready for a FUCKING WAR!?!

A simultaneous “yeah” sounds from the squad gathered before him.

AWOL: Good! But hold on a second, I’ve got a little something to handle in the ring right now that will just make the Alpha Generation’s day all the more merrier. If you’ll excuse me?

The GM steps away, leaving all four individuals standing with confusion draped over their tensed faces. Only Rich has more to speculate about as he turns and notices Susie swiping her mouth with the side of her hand.

Susie: Sorry, I drooled a little on you.

SURPRISE, SURPRISE

The show comes back to the ringside area where the fans are still seated in confusion, wondering what in the world is going on, and why AWOL departed company with his team so abruptly.

Mayne: Rara-freaking-ra! Who does AWOL think he’s fooling with his half hearted comments? His whole win one for the gipper speech was just appalling, appalling I say.

Douglas: First off, AWOL isn’t lying in a hospital bed somewhere begging his team to win one for him, that was not a win one for the Gipper speech, and secondly, he’s not asking them to do anything for him, he’s asking his team to beat the AG to save themselves as well as the rest of the roster.

Billy: Oh booby boo boohoo, if the roster didn’t want to get treated so badly, and wanted to save their jobs, all they had to do was pledge their allegiance to the Alpha Generation, plain and simple.

Douglas: I think these guys would rather give a blow job to a cactus than pledge any form of loyalty to the Alpha Generation.

I HOPE YOU’RE SATISFIED!

The crowd starts to scream as these words filter through the loud speakers in the Manhattan Center, two mushroom cloud explosions of pyro erupting from both sides of the entry way. With no hesitation General Manager AWOL rips through the curtains and strolls straight towards the ring with a clipboard full of papers in his hand. Just about every fan in the building is broadcasting their support for the Big Crazy Bastard who moves gingerly, yet with a purpose, towards the ring. Even while fired up and intense as it relates to his impending match with the Alpha Generation, he appears carefree and unconcerned while moving to the ring at this time. He climbs the stairs and enters the ring through the ropes, as Kaily Wolf hands off a microphone to him then promptly vacates the premises.

Mayne: Wasn’t seeing him once tonight bad enough? I mean, I already knew we were going to have to bear his presence later tonight in that main event all the while gritting my teeth and digging my nails into my palms to the point that blood is drawn, but I didn’t know we’d be forced to watch him so much. This guy hogs more air time than Jason Seagreen.

Douglas: I think that’s impossible, plus that’s a really outdated comment at this point in time. The fact of the matter is AWOL has a purpose out here, he’s got something he has to get off his chest.

Billy: Hopefully it’s those damn flabby man boobs.

Several people in the front row are bowing down to AWOL and his greatness while the Big Crazy Bastard just gives them an odd glare then proceeds to start speaking on the microphone.

AWOL: Well, it’s nice to see that so many people have come here tonight after popping some pills and ingesting some shrooms....

AWOL motions towards the fans bowing to his greatness while several cheers come from everyone gathered in the building.

AWOL: And here I thought my opponents were the only blatant crack heads we’d see in the building tonight...

More applause and laughter comes from the fans while AWOL just rolls his eyes and continues with his original point.

AWOL: Now before I start getting the reputation of a spotlight hog by coming out here just to toot my own horn, or by giving himself the World title only to inexplicably start an angle where I blow up in my limo a few months later, let me get to my point. I’m out here in this ring just moments before the main event starts this evening to make an announcement, and I’ll allow you all to judge just how big said revelation really is. I hope you people, the fans, will adore it just as much as I’m sure individuals comprising the ranks of the Alpha Generation will, namely a certain World Champion.

The whole mood in the building changes greatly at the slightest reference to Hurse, boos momentarily drowning out all other sounds.

Mayne: Sheep! Sheep! Bah! Bah!

Douglas: Stop talking about your date last night Billy.

Billy: I didn’t take your wife out last night.

AWOL sticks his clipboard under his armpit and lifts his now free palm into the air, calling everyone to simmer down a bit. Finally he begins to speak once more.

AWOL: Yes, yes, I’m sure his mother even felt the same way about him, but that’s neither here nor there, rest assure he’ll get what’s coming to him some way or another. Either at my hands tonight, or by the hands of an individual I’ve just signed to a brand new contract here in IWC. Which means he will have access to this building again, or any building IWC does a show from in the future as in just a moment from now he shall become an official member of this roster once again. So without further hoopla, and shameless attempts on my part to butter him up, as honestly I personally detest the individual in question here, but detest Hurse more, allow me to give to you, IWC’s newest acquisition...

AWOL extends his open palm out in the direction of the entry way, the fans looking on in a bit of confusion, but the majority of them know who is about to step through those curtains. Just then the words “Killjoy” flash across the big screen, causing a huge eruption from the fans, everyone putting their hands together for the hardcore icon. Through the curtains strolls the former Annihilation World Heavyweight Champion with a very serious, somber expression on his face. He stops only briefly to look out over the sea of humanity who are staunchly supporting his arrival, and the revelation that he’s just joined the IWC roster.

Douglas: Wow, what a huge announcement by AWOL, Killjoy is back ladies and gentlemen, he is back!

Mayne: Not again? What is it going to take to keep this man retired!?! Why can’t he just stay away from things he has no business sticking his nose into again?

Douglas: Nobody tells Killjoy what his business is, or isn’t Billy. I’m shocked, and pleased to see the man back, mostly because I just know Hurse is in the backstage area soiling himself over this.

Billy: Robin had something to do with this, I know it, that conniving little...

Fans desperately reach out to touch or receive a high five from Killjoy, but he doesn’t even turn his head to recognize the fact that they’re present. Instead he just keeps heading for the ring, moving up the stairs onto the apron then sliding through the ropes. He immediately turns towards the turnbuckle, stepping up onto the second rope and thrusting both arms out to his sides, getting another loud outcry of cheers from this sold out crowd. He now drops down off the turnbuckle, twisting around to face a man who use to be a bitter enemy, but now stands before him is boss, giving him the chance to return to the business that he’s been apart of for so many countless years. AWOL doesn’t prolong things and cuts straight to the point, extending the clipboard with the papers and pen on it in the direction of the somber Killjoy while lifting the mic to his own lips.

AWOL: Killjoy, I understand that much like myself you just want to get this over and done with. So with no further delay, sign the contract and make your wrestling return official. A return I’m sure some people are thrilled about.

A smirk settles on AWOL’s face, one slowly coming to Killjoy as well, realizing who the GM was referring to with such a sly comment. He quickly takes the clipboard and the paper now and with no hesitation starts to sign the contract.

Douglas: It’s official Billy! Killjoy is back!

Mayne: No! No, no, no! He’s going to ruin everything, everything I tell ya. Signing him is like signing death to your roster.

The crowd is very enthusiastic, cheering loudly as Killjoy scribbles his signature onto the document.

Fans: WELCOME BACK, WELCOME BACK, WELCOME BACK!

Once the contract is signed AWOL lifts the microphone back to his lips.

AWOL: Well there you have it ladies and gentlemen, it’s official, Killjoy has returned.

Another loud burst of cheers come from the fans, all of them tremendously excited by the prospect of Killjoy’s return to the IWC. The former World Champion thrusts the clipboard and contract against AWOL’s chest and without so much as saying a word turns, vacating the ring. He slides through the ropes onto the apron and drops to the mats, walking straight up the ramp with his entrance music playing in the background. He doesn’t even look back or acknowledge the fans who are cheering for him so loudly.

Douglas: What an insane night this has been, full of twists and turns, and we’re still not through yet, because still to come tonight Billy is our main event. An eight man tag team warfare match between the IWC roster and the Alpha Generation, whoever wins, will have complete supremacy.

Mayne: This night has done nothing but leave a sour taste in my mouth. First Christian Savior debuts in the IWC, and now Killjoy has just signed a new contract. My mind can’t take much more. But at least later tonight the Alpha Generation will finally, finally put down the resistance known as the IWC roster.

SHOP IWC: WE ACCEPT FOOD STAMPS

Classic ULW merchandise still available of purchase

All DVDs half price

Everything must go!

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CHRIS CAGERO VS. RILEY ADDISON

(The Electric sound of Daft Punk suddenly explodes through the speakers as the rising voice of Kanye West Also appears, green strobe lasers are spinning circular around the fans as the video for Riley begins to play showing him in many of his photo shoots for numerous companies, the million dollar playboy looking as good as ever, suddenly the music stops for a second, silence barely noticed but there, suddenly the music comes back with a bang as fireworks explode from the stage and the ring, suddenly the curtains pull aside and Riley Addison steps out dressed in a hooded robe, his initials on the back, he just walks down the ramp as Steve James appears from behind him wearing a star trek uniform and doing a Vulcan symbol to all the fans who do it right back to him, ignoring the seriousness of his cousin, Riley just reaches the ring and climbs onto the apron, he pulls his hood down and removes the jacket showing him just a pair of trunks, his name sparkling across the back of them, he climbs in the ring and just walks to the corner of the ring, his arm lifting into the air to a reaction from the fans, he then jumps down and then just awaits the start of the match.)

Douglas: Welcome back ladies and gentlemen to the ring on what has just been a roller coaster of a night here at IWC Born Again. We’re changing gears here a bit as Riley Addison, this fresh faced young athlete makes his official IWC debut, but boy oh boy does he have a hard task ahead of him.

Mayne: A task weighing about 425 pounds to be more accurate Dan. This Riley Addison is a pretty boy, plus he’s incredibly wealthy, therefore he’s automatically more deserving of a bigger match than going one on one with Chris Cagero? Come on, Riley strikes me as the type who should walk in and get an immediate title shot, just look at his confident swagger..

Dan: Been there, done that, I think the roster would want someone’s head on a pike if that were to transpire once again. But we’ve heard a lot about this Riley Addison from back in his SCW days, and apparently he is a top notch young talent, but in the IWC you got to operate on proof, not on hype.

Billy: Let’s just pray he’s not distracted by this weirdo following him to this ring. Whoever this guy is, he looks like one of the fans who are constantly hassling me for my autograph when I’m trying to run to my car after every show.

Douglas: Billy, that’s former ULW GM, Stevie James.

Mayne: Who?

Riley looks rather annoyed by his half brother, insisting he stay out of the ring while he warms himself up inside, bouncing off the cables as he charges back and forth. He is limbering up but doing so rather arrogantly and casually, as if not taking his plus sized challenge that seriously. Stevie is talking into a small communication device on the outside of the ring, looking up as if expecting to be teleported somewhere, but it fails to happen, annoying him greatly. Suddenly the lights black out, leaving the arena in complete darkness. The crowd grows quiet, anticipating who will be coming out, as a piano starts to play softly over the speakers, the beginning of Within Temptation's "Destroyed." A spot appears on the stage, as the piano plays, and the spot grows into some sort of cross... The video flickers to life, showing a shadowed figure walking out of a place of pure light, the shadowed figure gets closer, and closer, until a set of white pyrotechnics go off... When the pyro settles, we see Chris Cagero on the edge of the video screen wearing a white cloak, with his arms spread. He jumps forward, and slowly desends onto the stage.

Chris shrugs the cloak off his shoulders, revealing his pure white wrestling attire, as well as an abstract tattoo across his massive back. He slightly bows his head, while closing his eyes, before slowly making his way to the ring. As he approaches the ring, he quickly opens his eyes, and raises his arms, releasing huge flames from the ramp behind him, and the ring posts ahead of him. Slowly, he climbs up onto the apron, and over the ropes, his cold glare seemingly fixed upon where his opponent is, Riley watching on with a rather confused expression on his face.

Douglas: I think Riley Addison just realized all the training he got from CHBK has to be thrown out the window when faced with this near seven foot behemoth known as Chris Cagero, a man aching to make a splash here tonight in his first pay-per-view performance.

Mayne: The same can be said for both men. But I think in Riley’s case, he’s got a little more to prove than Cagero, who has already racked up a victory here in the IWC. If you want to make a splash, the best way to do it is by winning in that ring, or by bringing me some chocolates, either one works, but I prefer the latter of the two options.

Douglas: Yes, we all know you need something to make your ass even fatter, Billy.

The crowd seems split on this one while Riley shuffles around in his corner between feet and Chris just stares at him, not removing his eyes from the newcomer. His expression is placid, emotionless, and almost cold while behind him Stevie James tries to zap him with his plastic phaser. It has no result on the emotionless giant who places his hands together and bows almost respectfully towards Riley as he makes his way out of the corner. Addison stops abruptly as a result, turning back and forth while motioning towards Cagero in confusion. After batting his eyes for a few moments, Riley steps forward, extending his hand in a respectful manner. Chris stares down at it and then reaches out, taking hold of his palm, the two men shaking hands to some cheers from the fans. That’s before Riley grips Chris’ palm and tries to pull him forward into a sneaky short arm clothesline. He quickly realizes the error of his ways as Chris just stands there, his wide frame not budging, Riley’s eyes rising to stare into his. Cagero just shakes his head rather apathetically then with his brute strength drags Addison forward into a lariat that almost beheads him. Addison flips over backwards, crashing across the back of his cranium and neck before popping up onto his seat. He scoots in reverse into one of the turnbuckles, sticking his palm out towards Cagero who has turned to face him.

Still Cagero’s expression is dry and cold as Riley appears to be in a state of shock, finally feeling the pain coursing through his throat. He reaches up, feeling at his Adams apple now before pulling himself to his feet, pointing in Cagero’s direction in a threatening but peaceful manner. Chris rolls his eyes and instead of insisting he come out of the corner to face him, he interlocks both of his hands, bending forward so that his head is entirely exposed, open to shots. The best way he knows how to entice his enemy to come at him. A slight grin comes to Riley’s face while he turns towards Stevie on the outside, who is shrugging his shoulders, not sure what to think. Therefore Addison moves tentatively towards Cagero and then turns, slapping his arms around his neck and then laughing as he applies the side headlock submission. He pulls up and down on Chris’ head and scrapes his arms across the sides of his face while looking out over the fans, some cheering, others booing. However, Cagero displays absolutely no emotion whatsoever before finally uncrossing his hands from behind his back and placing them to Riley’s spine. He stands up, lifting Addison high into the air on his shoulder then burying his hands to his back, throwing him upwards. Addison catches tremendous height before he comes crashing back down on his spine, then rolling across the canvas under the ropes to the outside of the ring.

Billy: Look at this, Riley doing the smart thing, getting out of the ring right away when one of his strategies do not pay off. He’s creating some distance between himself and Cagero as well as giving himself some time to think up a new gameplan.

Douglas: Otherwise known as stalling to save his own ass. You never put a man like Chris Cagero in a side headlock if your not asking for pain in some capacity, which Addison found out when he soared higher than Shaq while making a slam dunk.

Mayne: I like Shaq, and the way he abuses those fat kids on his show.

While Addison is taking a moment to collect himself, Stevie has quickly stepped in, scanning him with his homemade device, trying to see if there are any injures he can quickly mend. Riley slaps his hand away though before Stevie responds with his own slap. Both men seem to get into a hissy fight by slapping each other’s hands repeatedly on the outside of the ring before a slightly annoyed Cagero steps in, reaching over the ropes. He interlocks his hands around Riley’s jaw then pulls him up onto the apron backwards. Addison spins around as Chris grabs him under the armpit and now hip tosses him high into the air over the ropes. The force of which sends Riley flipping over, crashing hard across his back upon the canvas before rolling onto his knees with a stunned expression on his face. Chris turns towards him before he realizes that his ankle is obstructed by something. He turns and looks down at Stevie who is reaching under the ropes, his arms wrapped around his ankle to keep him from moving. After sighing Chris swings his leg towards the ring and drags James chest first hard into the apron, causing him to bounce off before tumbling onto his back. As Cagero steps forward now he walks right into a huge standing dropkick from Addison, who had time to recuperate thanks to his half brother. The impact doesn’t knock Chris down but instead causes him to back into the ropes, bouncing off before stepping towards Riley who jumps into the air once more and hits him with another dropkick. This time the impact knocks Cagero off his feet and onto his back with Riley landing beside him then standing up quickly. He delivers a fast elbow drop square to Chris’ chest then stands up, spinning around and jumping upward. A picture perfect knee is planted right into the giant’s face, causing him to turn away onto his side.

Mayne: Yes, Riley finally scoring with some offense here in this match.

Douglas: Thanks in large part to the distraction Stevie James played. Man, this guy has really changed since last we saw him in the ULW.

While Chris gets to his knees, Riley steps in front of him, delivering quick right hands across his jaw then following it up with elbow strikes to the sides of his head. He now backs up before lunging forward with a well placed boot to the side of Chris’ head, turning his spine towards him in the process. As soon as he does though, Cagero reaches out, placing his hands to his back and then shoving him forward with brute strength. Riley goes charging into the ropes, bouncing off and coming back in to a lariat from Cagero, ducking it however then continuing across the ring. He bounces off the opposite ropes now and charges in only for Cagero to spin around abruptly and connect with the lariat he missed just a few moments ago. The impact almost flips Riley inside out, causing him to crash onto his back with force while Cagero steps over him then charges into the ropes at his side. He bounces off and comes back in before jumping into the air, going for a huge big splash that Addison is fortunate enough to roll out of the way of at the last second. This causes Cagero to slam with force chest and face first into the canvas, immediately popping up onto his knees though. He begins to stand up while crouched forward before Addison steps in, catching him around the neck then dropping back into a hard DDT. Chris’ skull is buried into the canvas before he flops onto his back. Riley rises to his knees, realizing he’s actually on the advantage before crawling into the cover.

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Cagero powers his way out of the pinfall, sitting up abruptly while pushing Addison off of him. A look of disbelief quickly comes over Riley’s face after having that DDT kicked out of in such a manner. This entices him to step towards the slowly rising Cagero with more power thrown behind his closed fists. He then spins around as Chris gets to his feet in a hunched forward position, delivering a devastating roaring forearm to the side of his face. Cagero is staggered but not taken down, causing Riley’s eyes to open widely before he steps back then spins across the canvas, delivering another roaring elbow. This time Chris stands up straight, his eyes widening with anger though as Riley steps back, his jaw hanging open in surprise. Stevie again tries shooting his phaser at him but nothing seems to bring Chris down as he now moves towards, Riley swiping his hands through the air at him. Addison ducks it and charges into the ropes behind his back, bouncing off before Cagero spins around with a lariat at his throat. Riley ducks it, charging into the opposite cables and coming back in as Chris spins around, throwing another lariat. Again Addison ducks under it before charging into the ropes behind him, jumping into the air and landing feet first on the top cable with incredible agility. He springs off, flipping over backwards towards Cagero who spins around only to have Addison land right on his shoulder. Cagero is finally taken down to the canvas with Riley coming down on top of him with the moonsault press. James is clapping on the outside of the ring now, greatly pleased that his half brother has gotten on the advantage. With Chris down, Addison gets to his feet and charges at one of the turnbuckles, gracefully stepping up it to the top rope then launching himself off as he spins around in mid-air, connecting with a huge leg drop right to Cagero’s throat.

Billy: What Matrix like agility from this young Riley Addison, is there anyone with that type of flexibility and high flying no how in the IWC?

Douglas: Um, probably the whole X-Class division.

Mayne: We have an X-Class division?

Addison rolls onto his knees, rubbing at the back of his leg before turning, again crawling into the cover on Cagero while he has him laid out. He hooks his leg with great quickness.

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Again Chris kicks out and sits up in the process, his face actually depicting some emotion for a change. Addison is undeterred though, stepping up behind Cagero and jumping into the air, dropkicking him to the back of the head. Cagero grabs at his cranium and rolls across the canvas towards the ropes, sliding under them onto the apron. Addison rushes across the ring into the ropes opposite the ones Chris is kneeling behind, trying to stand up. With momentum now, Riley charges in and launches his foot through the cables directly into the side of Cagero’s face. Spit flies from Chris’ mouth thanks to the hard impact with his skull, yet he remains kneeling on the apron, not going down. His wide hand is firmly grasped around the middle cable, and he’s already beginning to stand up on the apron, albeit hunched forward still. Riley grabs the middle rope and now drives his shoulder through the cables right into Chris’ ribs, bending him over forward. With him in this prone position, Addison stands up, grabbing the top ropes and flipping over it, as well as over the spine of his large opponent. He wraps his arms around his waist while dropping down feet first onto the mats, the back of his head still over the apron, looking up at Chris as he tries to sunset flip powerbomb him to the outside of the ring. Instead of going down though, Chris jumps into the air and lands posterior first right on Ryan’s chest, sandwiching it between his large body and the hard ring apron. The crowd gasps and groans while Addison’s legs kick up into the air as a result of this hard slam.

Cagero holds onto the ropes to keep from falling before taking one hand away to grab hold of Addison’s hair. He stands up on the apron and then uses his brute strength to drag Riley’s limp, battered body up onto the ring in front of him. Riley can barely stand up straight now that his back has almost been broken by that last botched attempt at the sunset flip. He doesn’t need to stand for long though as Chris grabs him by the back of the head with both hands and jumps off the apron, pulling him with him. He drags Riley down into almost a face crusher right onto outside mats.

Mayne: Oh goodness gracious! Cagero just tried to kill Riley Addison, kill him I say! Kill him like, like, finish this statement for me Dan....

Douglas: I already do enough of our work for both of us Billy, but your right, Cagero appearing a little more menacing this evening than he usually is. Perhaps he really wants that big win on the pay-per-view stage to not only earn our respect, but to endear himself to his rather judgmental brother Simon.

The fans are still screaming over what Cagero just did while Riley lies on the mats across his back, shaking off the effects of his impact with the outside mats. Stevie is again trying to scan him for injuries while Chris takes Riley by the hair, lumbering around like an angry giant, but showing no signs of frustration or rage. He apathetically drags Addison to his feet and slaps on a front gantry before pulling him over into a hard snap suplex right onto the thin outside mats. As a result of the impact, Riley sits up, his face contorted with anguish. Cagero gets to his feet behind him quickly and then grabs him around the jaw, dragging him to his feet before placing his hands to his chest and stomach. He gorilla presses Riley high into the air, stepping towards the ropes then throwing his motionless body through the cables into the ring. The tired Addison rolls onto his back, holding his face while Cagero slides in himself, standing up and not even bothering to go for the pin. Instead he places his boot right to Addison’s ribs and stands up on top of it for a moment before stepping off. Addison curls up into a ball, falling onto his side while Chris steps forward, realizing the extent of the internal injuries he may have just inflicted. He shows little or no compassion though while stepping towards Riley again, who is trying to get to all fours. Cagero hooks one of his arms and then wraps his other forearm around Addison’s thigh, hoisting him up into the air and then dropping down ribs first right across his knee with a gut buster. Riley bounces off and rolls across the canvas as a result, reaching for his mid-section and grinding his teeth from the pain coursing through it.

Cagero steps up behind him, grabbing hold of his hair before sitting up on the ring then dropping to his knees behind him. He reaches out and wraps his massive arms around Riley’s waist, squeezing at his ribs and lungs until everything inside is about to burst. Yet Addison will not relent, will not give up. Stevie is trying to help the best he can by frantically attempting to call for assistance, speaking into his communicator in several different tongues, but no aid comes to the pain stricken Addison. Chris only further squeezes his mid-section with his massive arms before Riley starts to stand up, trying to get to his feet. Just as soon as he starts to rise, Cagero breaks the waist lock and drives his forearm hard over the back of Addison’s neck. Riley falls down to his seat once more before Chris slaps his hand around the trapezium muscle of his neck, squeezing at it as he applies the nerve hold. He squeezes with great strength on the neck of Addison, who is really wincing in pain but refusing to tap out, even as the referee inquires as to rather he will or not. He takes several deep breaths while the squeeze is further applied on his neck by an apathetic Cagero.

Douglas: Cagero really slowing things down now with that nerve hold, applying it with great strength to the point that he might rip that muscle in Addison’s neck in two.

Mayne: Come on Riley, get up, show us all that expert training you apparently received!

Somehow Addison is hanging in there, even with the muscle in his neck almost be ripped out by Cagero. With all his left over adrenaline Riley reaches up, grabbing the hand of Cagero and beginning to force his way upwards as well. Chris’ face twists and fills with tension as Addison begins to pry his hand from his neck, rising to his feet ever so slowly. He then gets to his feet, finally pushing the hand away from his neck before delivering a hard back elbow right to Cagero’s gut. He delivers another one now, and a third strike that doubles Chris over. Addison grabs him by the back of the head and delivers a vicious European Uppercut followed by a double palm thrust directly to his sternum, almost knocking Cagero over. He delivers another quick double palm thrust to his chest, but Chris is still standing as Riley turns, getting a running start this time. He charges into the ropes, bouncing off them then coming back in before Cagero steps forward menacingly, forcing him to change up his plan. Addison drops into a baseball slide across his back, going between Chris’ legs before Cagero reaches down, catching him around the throat with both arms. Chris begins to shake his head, “no, no, no,” before lifting Addison up into the air out from under his legs and then throwing him upwards with what almost appears to be a double handed chokebomb. But instead of slamming Riley to the canvas he steps under his stomach, catching him on his shoulders then pushing him around and wrapping his arms around his neck, dropping into a huge TKO diamond cutter. Riley crashes with force off the canvas then flops over onto his back, laid out completely with the crowd screaming over what they just witnessed.

Douglas: What a move by Chris Cagero! That was a brilliant, and powerful counter all in one!

Mayne: Chris is just manhandling the smaller Addison like he were a Stretch Armstrong Doll or something. But instead Riley there isn’t cotton and elastic stuff, at least I don’t think there is.

That last move has completely whipped Riley out, stretched across his back now as Cagero turns, scooting across his knees and falling into the cover. He actually just places one palm to Addison’s chest to hold him down.

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Riley kicks out, getting his shoulder off the canvas in time before Cagero grabs him by the hair, sitting him up. He steps behind his back, wrapping his hands around the top of Addison’s head and his jaw, twisting his cranium sideways. He is almost ripping Addison’s skull from the neck now while twisting at his head in this precarious predicament. Again Addison is refusing to tap out though, even while being greatly out powered here with his neck almost being broken at the hands of a determined Cagero. Several of the fans surprisingly find themselves slapping the barricades and stomping their feet in support of Addison, trying to rally behind him. Although Riley could care quite less he does seem to feed on the adulation, while Stevie runs back and forth, motioning for the fans to get behind him. That’s when Addison starts to force himself upwards once again with his head being twisted brutally. His face is filled with determination though, refusing to be bested in his first IWC performance, rising finally to his feet. That’s before he’s turned around by Cagero, who grabs hold of his throat with both hands then falls back, sending Addison flipping over top of him with a double handed choke overhead suplex. Cagero falls onto his spine while Addison is sent flying across the canvas and crashing across his back on the ring, immediately sitting up with his jaw hanging open from the pain coursing through his spine. Cagero gets to a knee and scoots in, grabbing his shoulder before forcing him down to the canvas then falling into the cover.

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Again Riley shows his resilience by kicking out, barely getting his shoulder up in time though. Almost a little frustrated, Cagero gets to his feet, grasping hold of Riley’s hair and then dragging him up before wrapping his arms around his waist. He holds him in a gutwrench before lifting him into the air, spinning him around then powerbombing him with incredible force into the canvas. He leans down shoulders first into the back of his thighs, forcing Riley’s shoulders to the canvas while he’s bent up like an accordion.

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Once more Addison is forced to kick out while Stevie almost goes nuts on the outside, pacing back and forth in a frightened manner.

Douglas: I have no idea how Addison keeps kicking out of these power moves by Chris Cagero. Any normal man would be literally dead by now due to this type of onslaught.

Mayne: I’ve never seen Chris so malicious and dominant. He’s been dominating this match for a good five minutes now with power moves and rest holds, yet nothing he does seems to be keeping Addison down for that three count.

As Addison falls over onto his knees after kicking out of that powerbomb Chris grabs him by the wrist, forcing him to his feet then whipping him with great momentum into one of the turnbuckles. Addison hits it hard spine first with his arms falling over the cables to keep himself upright, his eyes rolling to the back of his head before Cagero plants his feet and bends forward. He now rushes in with a great burst of speed before jumping into the air for a big splash, Riley barely moving out of the way in time to keep from being squashed. Chris slams hard chest first into the turnbuckle then begins to stagger backwards, slightly bent forward as Riley steps towards the ropes in front of him, springing up onto the second cable. He springs off then turns, catching Chris around the neck before swinging around into a huge tornado DDT. The top of Cagero’s cranium crashes with force from the canvas before he flops over onto his back, laid out side by side with Addison, neither man moving much at this point.

Finally Cagero begins to stir, while Riley is doing the same, both men exhausted though, their bodies battered after the impacts they’ve taken thus far in this contest. Surprisingly Addison is the first to his feet with Chris getting to his knees before him. Immediately Riley steps in, lobbing a punch into the side of Cagero’s face, then connecting with another such shot. Each blow almost knocks Cagero back down to the canvas, yet he keeps his knees beneath him. Even when Riley steps to his side and delivers a quick hard shin kick to the back of his head, it isn’t enough to force Cagero down to the canvas. He just shakes his cranium and keeps kneeling on the canvas, refusing to go back down. That’s when he rears forward, placing his hands to Addison’s gut and shoving him backwards across the ring. It sends Riley charging in reverse into the cables, bouncing off then coming back in as Chris stands up in front of him, in time to catch him by placing his hands to his opponent’s chest and throwing him high into the air. But Addison turns while airborne and connects with a dropkick directly to Chris’ chest, knocking him backwards into the cables. Cagero can’t stop himself from spilling through the top and middle one, turning and landing on his feet on the outside mats. He staggers around a lot now, trying to get his bearings before Riley rushes at the ropes, springing into the air and landing on the top cable. He then turns and launches himself off, flying through the air with a quick corkscrew crossbody right on top of Cagero, taking him down to the outside mats as well as himself.

Douglas: Riley answering back in a big way, using his speed and agility to take down Chris Cagero!

Mayne: Exactly what he needs to do if he wants to maintain a fighting change here in his IWC debut!

Chris is already turning onto his side, trying to get up though as Addison rises to his feet, falling back first against the announce table and using it for support. Stevie has grabbed a cardboard sign from one of the fans, waving it in Riley’s general direction in a desperate attempt to fan him off. Somehow Chris grabs the apron, pulling himself up onto it while Addison steps up behind him, delivering a hard thrust kick to the back of his thigh, then another one. Both they don’t even seem to phase Chris as he climbs up onto the apron and turns, sitting himself on it with his back facing the cables for a moment. That’s before Addison jumps onto the apron at his side then charges in, dropping down into a hard front dropkick right to the side of Chris’ face, the fans reacting with shock at the sight and sound of the impact, which finally phases the giant Cagero. The impact is enough to cause Cagero to roll under the ropes to the inside of the ring, getting to the center of which before he starts to push himself up onto his feet. He gets to a standing base, his legs wobbly beneath him while Riley stands up on the apron, grabbing the top rope then jumping up onto it before springing off through the air. He connects with a hard flying forearm directly into Chris’ face, staggering the behemoth then rolling across the canvas. Somehow Cagero is still standing, which causes a look of disbelief to stretch over Riley’s tired face. He gets to his feet and again charges at the cables in front of Cagero, showing his agility by jumping into the air, landing on the top rope then springing off as he twists in mid-air for another flying forearm. Cagero steps forward though and reaches out, catching Riley by the throat. He takes hold of the back of his trunks and lifts him into the air now before dropping to his knees with a huge chokeslam. The air is driven from the almost fractured frame of Addison, while he lies spread across the canvas now, Cagero quickly hooking his leg. Stevie is running back and forth in shock over what he’s seeing.

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Somehow Addison is able to kick out just in time, avoiding defeat narrowly. Cagero sits up but shows no emotion while he takes a deep breath, rising to his feet slowly. Reaching down with no reluctance, Chris slips his hands into the hair of a sweaty, battered Addison’s hair, dragging him up to his feet. His cranium is then pulled into a front chancery before Chris grabs him by the back of the pants, hoisting him into the air in position for a big stalling vertical suplex. Right as he is about to drop back though, Riley twists around with his body and wraps his arm around Chris’ neck, dropping to his seat with a stunner out of the suplex position. The fans react with shock at the sight of this as Chris stands up, yet is still on his feet, stumbling and staggering around. He shakes his head several times, attempting to get himself straightened out while Addison rises to a standing base, looking over his shoulder at his dazed opponent. He quickly charges into the ropes in front of him, bouncing off then coming back in only to be caught straight across the jaw with a big boot right to the face. Cagero rushed forward in order to connect with the strike, again sending Addison flipping over backwards almost, crashing into the canvas across his skull and shoulders.

Douglas: Again Addison’s offense shut down. Every time he starts to build some adrenaline and some momentum, Cagero is right there with one of those big powerful moves to take him down to the canvas once again.

Mayne: Addison has hit Cagero with almost everything that he’s got and yet it still isn’t even enough to knock him off of his feet. How does he hope to even win this match? He’ll have to use a tank, or a tractor trailer, or Bob’s flammable bodily gases to inflict any damage on this brick wall of a human being.

Cagero twists his head back and forth, rubbing at his jaw throughout the process while Addison rolls to his knees, desperately trying to force himself up to his feet. He reaches out, placing his hands on the knees of Cagero, grabbing hold of his white attire while trying with every ounce of remaining strength to pull himself to his feet. Chris is motioning with one of his large open palms for Addison to get up, waiting patiently for him to expel the energy to stand before finishing him off once and for all. As soon as he gets to a standing base Cagero reaches out, grasping him by the throat, turning as he looks out over the fans, setting up for a big chokeslam in order to finally put the resilient Addison away. Riley is almost falling over in the process before Chris grabs the back of his attire and hoists him into the air for the chokeslam. However, Riley squirms free at the last second, swinging out of the palm and landing on his feet behind the back of Cagero. Chris spins around as Riley goes for a big superkick, paying homage to his trainer CHBK, aimed directly at the jaw of the giant. Cagero ducks it though, Riley staggering forward as a result before he spins around quickly, his massive opponent turning as well while slightly bent forward. The giant steps forward when Riley jumps into the air, landing feet first right on the upper back of Cagero, standing on top of him before Chris rises to a full upright position. As he does so though, Riley jumps off his back and lands legs first on his shoulders then snaps over backwards into a huge hurricarana. Cagero is slightly flipped over, crashing on his back across the canvas while Addison falls to all fours, trying to catch his breath, attempting to get his head straight at this point.

Stevie is again slapping the barricades, insisting his partner get up as Addison tries to force his legs beneath him and pin them to the canvas. He’s having a great deal of trouble doing so though with his body ravaged by such pain, Cagero also standing up, a rare sight to see him forced to rise to his feet from the canvas. As soon as he gets to a standing base though, Riley comes charging in, hoping to capitalize on his momentary burst of offense. However, Cagero reaches out, catching him under his arm and lifting him into the air for a huge side slam. That’s before Riley lifts his legs into the air though, wrapping them around Cagero’s neck and getting out of the side slam position, pulling his massive opponent around into several revolutions and finally snapping off with a huge leg scissors. Cagero is sent flying forward, crashing head first into the top turnbuckle pad. He bounces off and turns so that his spine is leaning against the turnbuckle, his arms falling over the cables for support. Although dazed, he’s keeping his legs beneath him, fighting the temptation to go down even while exhausted and battered. Riley gets to his feet, spinning in circles and unleashing a roar, getting some cheers from the fans. He then turns to face Cagero in the corner, charging in with a huge burst of speed before jumping high into the air, lobbing his forearm at his opponent’s face. But now Cagero reaches out, placing his hands to Riley’s gut and lifting him into the air before slamming him with force right to the canvas with the spinebuster out of the corner. Addison flips over backwards and then lands on his knees, a very dazed expression settling over his features before he finally goes down to the canvas across his spine. Now Chris begins to pull himself up the turnbuckle in reverse, the crowd beginning to squeal at the sight of this, realizing the giant is about to take flight.

Mayne: Oh no, don’t tell me the behemoth is about to go airborne! He’ll squash Riley like he were a nat, a nat I say!

Douglas: After that spinebuster there might not be much left to squash Billy. But I agree, it’s an odd, troubling sight to behold Cagero going up the turnbuckle, all that girth about to take flight and for sure finish off what remains of Addison.

Riley is stretched across the canvas across his back, his legs lightly kicking as he tries to find the power or internal strength to stand up. He doesn’t have time to muster such energy though as Cagero stands up on the top rope now, everyone in the arena rising slowly with gaping mouths. Just as he is about to take flight though, without warning Stevie jumps onto the apron and grabs desperately at his foot. He is holding on with everything his tiny frame can muster to prevent Cagero from flying off the turnbuckle. Instead of succeeding though, Chris turns and slugs him hard across the face, causing Stevie to be knocked from the apron, being sent flying to the outside mats. Cagero’s attention shifts back to the ring right when Riley rushes up the turnbuckle and jumps into the air, catching his plus sized opponent around the neck then dragging him off the corner. The crowd is shocked at the sight of Addison pulling Cagero all the way down to the ring with the ace crusher from the top rope. The Addi-Effect connects as Chris is driven face first into the ring, bouncing off with the crowd cheering loudly.

Douglas: A top rope ace crusher by Addison, the move he refers to as the Addi-Effect!

Mayne: How did he get the.....wait a minute!

After hitting the canvas, Cagero stands up straight and unleashes a primal roar, his face filling with intensity as Riley stands up in front of him, almost floored by the sight of him standing right back up. However, Addison steps forward and delivers a sensational CHBK style superkick right to the jaw of Cagero. The impact echoes throughout the arena before Cagero staggers backwards then stands upright again, unleashing another roar while his eyes almost pop out of their sockets. Right as he yells though, Addison hits him with a second superkick under the jaw, this one finally taking him down to the canvas across his back. Riley turns and falls into the cover finally.

1

2

3

The crowd has a loud mixed reaction as Riley Addison has just picked up his first official victory in IWC. He rolls off of Chris and onto his back, appearing winded but wearing a very arrogant smile on his face.

Douglas: Riley Addison has done it. In his first official match he’s defeated Chris Cagero with everything he had in his arsenal.

Mayne: Chris put up quite a fight but it wasn’t enough to overcome the sheer genetic superiority that is Riley Addison.

Douglas: Genetic superiority? How do you explain Stevie James then?

The crowd is still mildly miffed over the manner in which Addison got the win, but he stands with a huge smile on his face nevertheless, drenched in sweat and bending forward as he places his hands on his knees to keep himself upright. Stevie slides into the ring now and steps to his half brother’s side, grabbing him by the wrist and thrusting his arm into the air. Riley almost falls over as a result before Stevie pulls him in and gives him a big hug, jumping up and down excitedly in the process. He then steps to Riley’s side and hits the communicator on his chest.

Stevie: Scotty, two to beam up.

Stevie reaches out, interlocking hands with Riley before Addison pulls away from him abruptly, beginning to shout at him in the process.

Addison: Your making an ass out of both of us!

Stevie shrugs, having no idea what he did wrong while Riley is already vacating the ring. Cagero continues to lie on his back while Stevie pursues Riley, still trying to scan him with his tricorder. None of them are aware that behind their backs a figure has jumped the barricade to the ringside area, quickly scaling the turnbuckle before security could spot him.

Douglas: Hey wait a minute, somebody entering the ring behind the backs of security...that isn't who I think it is, is it?

Mayne: It can't be, is that Adam Riddick!?!

The crowd is going nuts as they spot Riddick climbing up the turnbuckle, getting to the top rope and steadying himself for something big. Before any one can stop him he launches himself off the turnbuckle, flying through the air then connecting with a frog splash right on top of the already battered and beaten Chris Cagero. A loud eruption comes from the fans as a result, unable to believe what they just witnessed. Riddick flips over onto his posterior after hitting the move while a smirk comes to his face. He now rolls under the ropes to the outside of the ring as security begins to flood it, trying to catch him. Before they can get their hands on him though, Riddick has jumped the barricade and nonchalantly walks through the crowd with fans slapping him on the shoulders, going nuts over his arrival.

Mayne: What the hell was that all about!?! Adam Riddick just came into an IWC ring and frog splashed Chris Cagero!

Douglas: This is unbelieveable. What a wild night this has been thus far. Why was Adam Riddick here? Was he sending a message to the IWC roster with his unprovoked actions? What else is going to transpire this evening on what has thus far been an absolutely shocking pay-per-view event?

Billy: I'm terrified to even think about it.

Adam stops only for a second to tilt his head in order to stare over his shoulder at the ring, a diabolical smile coming to his face before he's off again.

REBUTTING A UNITY

A loud, prolonged series of boos drown out all other sounds in the building, and reverberate through the backstage corridors, for that is the location of the detestable, loathing Alpha Generation who now come into view. Before them stands a scantily, leather clad Michelle Blacker, her dark, raven hued eyes observing the quartet of competitors amassed beside her seductive frame. Standing at the forefront is the Dark Man, Desolation, with a bit of confidence in his otherwise shadowy demeanor. At his side paces the World Heavyweight Champion Hurse, moving back and forth with a lowered head and worried eyes. Mumbling is all he’s been reduced to while the belt shimmers brightly about his shoulder. Jackson Adams watches on with a rather crude, arrogant smile plastered on his grizzled skin while Too Magnificent rounds out the group. He is behind the others, but due to his physical dimensions, towers over them all, arms crossed and callous eyes observing all. Michelle, turned so as to proudly display the Psycho tattoo embedded with red ink across her bicep, sticks the mic out in the direction of Desolation’s face, playing the role of spokesman for the Alpha Army.

Michelle: Desolation, we heard earlier tonight from AWOL and the IWC roster....

Desolation: Ha, you mean we heard from AWOL, thankfully he didn’t allow any of the others to have an iota of mic time, sparing all our ear drums a hideously cruel fate.

After completing his derogatory spiel he motions with a rotation of his finger for Michelle to get on with her line of questioning. Michelle’s mind only seems to be railed on one train of thought.

Blacker: Yeah, I know what you mean, I was greatly displeased by the fact that I didn’t get to hear how Psycho was going to maliciously.....oh.....devilishly.... oh my .....

Michelle’s knees are getting weak just thinking about how Psycho would phrase the level of violence he intends to unleash throughout the course of the match this evening.

Michelle:....Sadistically ..... ohhhhhh .......

Hurse: Would you get on with it already!?!

Noticeably frazzled and upset, Hurse unleashed his outburst with a reddened face and throbbing, skin piercing veins. Michelle was messing her long, died black locks with her hands while in the middle of producing this speech, but now stops abruptly, shooting a cruel glare in the Champion’s direction. She wipes from her mouth a trail of saliva, drooling at the mere prospect of Psycho. Desolation has his hand pressed to Hurse’s chest and his other palm open, extended out before his face, trying to calm down the temperamental champion.

Desolation: You’ll have to excuse Hurse, his breakfast didn’t have enough fiber in it this morning and he’s been as constipated as an Orlando promo all day long as a result. But I can kind of assume where your general line of questioning was leading, as you backstage correspondent types seem to always read from the same cue cards and thus always have the same inquiries. So allow me to answer and save us the trouble of having to endure a truly nauseating question.

Jackson swipes sweat from his forehead, pleased he won’t have to listen to Michelle much longer. Blacker would be slightly peeved by what she just heard, if it were not for the fact that she was exciting herself by digging her nail into the flesh on her arm to the point that it almost drew blood.

Desolation: We too heard AWOL’s big, overblown, and melodramatic speech backstage, where he resurrected the spirit of William Wallace to pep up his forces in order to stand against the big dark, evil tyranny that is the English. Oh, I mean, the Jews, oh wait, I got Wallace confused with Mel Gibson again, I meant the Alpha Generation. But really, why are we being deemed so evil and sinister? Because we don’t sit on our hands with our fingers up our puckered assholes, smiling and taking orders like everyone else does? We, the Nation of the Alpha Generation, believe in freedom, in justice, in the right to think for ourselves without being controlled and dominated by political entities. Maybe the rest of the roster is too blind or amused by second rate promos to see that’s exactly what AWOL is doing, but we here in the Alpha Generation are not quite so naive. So we’re deemed as heretics, or villainous swine because we practice our sovereign right of freedom? Because we’re not content with being controlled? Because we wish to simply better ourselves, and the IWC as well? Tisk, tisk....

Jackson: It’s enough to make a grown man cry.

Fraudulent tears are brushed from Adams’ eyes while Desolation continues, paying little mind to his Alpha Generation cohort.

Desolation: History frowns upon many rebels who fought for noble causes, for the beliefs they knew to be right. Why? Because history is written from the perspectives of those who held down the rebels, it’s skewed and distorted by political, fascist groups who forced the creation of these rebels, and then went about to subjugate or destroy them. That’s exactly what AWOL, and his team of miscreants, sadistic ones, pretty boys, and holy avengers are doing. They skew the truth, and they hide the facts. We’re the righteous ones here, we’re the ones fighting for not only our freedom, but the freedom of the minds of all those watching at home. All those who have been brainwashed to boo and cheer who IWC tells you too. We’re here to give them choice, to open their minds, and provide them with some much needed, well hidden truth. A truth that can only be revealed once individuals like Jon Rich, Psycho, Chapel, and AWOL are all out of the picture, a feat we tend to accomplish in that ring tonight. No rara speeches, or no hired assassins like Killjoy....

Desolation briefly exchanges a glance with Hurse who paused only for a brief moment at the mere mention of that name. The syllables comprising the name of Killjoy truly irks the World Champion.

Desolation:.... will stop us, or deter us from our goals, from our mission. Where so many other rebellious forces have failed to achieve what they strive or believe in, the Alpha Generation will succeed. For we’re not the tyranny of evil men that we’ve been made out to be, our opponents fill that role, and we will no longer suffer their reign. Like AWOL said earlier, it will be one battle, one war to end it all.

The closing comment leaves grins on the faces of the Alpha Generation, all besides Hurse that is. While the others step forward to begin marching off down the corridor to prepare for their final preparations, Hurse lingers behind, jaw almost touching his chest as he paces endlessly.

Steven...!

A voice he longed to hear, and at the same time filled him with dejected caused Hurse to raise his head and observe the lovely contours of Robin’s face. She strolled forward into the interview area with the X-Class title thrust over her shoulder and a slight smile. True happiness glows outward from within her, while Michelle Blacker creeps into the scene a bit to catch what is said on microphone. The same radiant, warming glow of happiness is not matched within the despair ridden World Champion.

Robin: I just wanted to catch you before your match tonight and wish you luck.

The grin only widens on her face while she sneaks in with a kiss to the side of Hurse’s cheek. While pulling away she notices her friendly, inspiring smooch is only met with a cold, deviant glare from the World Champion, the orbs of his eyes burning gray with animosity.

Hurse: Wish me luck you say?

Still relishing her win from earlier in the evening, Robin smiles and nods enthusiastically.

Hurse: I’m so sure that’s what you came back here to do. Why don’t you tell the truth for once in your life Robin? You came back here to gloat.

Robin bends back a bit her eyes batting with bewilderment.

Brooks: What?

Hurse edges angrily forward in her direction.

Hurse: I can see that twinkle in your eye. I know why you’ve got that great big smile on your face. It’s because Killjoy’s been brought back. It’s because the love of your life has returned to sweep you off your feet again. I know what you two have been plotting, you’ve been hashing out this plan behind my back all along. You intend to make a fool of me, to help Killjoy take my World Heavyweight Championship!

The belt is held aloft in all its glistening glory while Robin just looks on in terrible confusion.

Robin: Steven, your talking crazy. Your being paranoid. I had no idea Killjoy was coming back tonight.

Hurse: Don’t lie to me Robin! I know much more than you thank I do. I know you’ve been conspiring with him against all my greatest wishes and gravest warnings. You don’t love me, you’ve just been with me to set me up for a fall to that son of a bitch, Killjoy!

For once Robin can see quite clearly the madness building in her lover’s eyes. Undeterred and unfrightened she leans in, sliding her hand onto the Champion’s cheek and causing him to quiver.

Brooks: Do you have any idea how crazy you sound right now. Of course I love you.

Hurse: Liar, you’re a God damn liar!

Hurse takes her by the wrist and forces her hand away before pointing into her face with a trembling finger.

Hurse: You knew this was coming, you’ve been buttering me up for it all along. If you really loved me you would have stopped Killjoy from signing that contract in one of your little secret sessions with one another. If you cared about me in the slightest, you would actually prove your love instead of acting like a fucking slut!

Froth has formed on the edges of Hurse’s mouth, his neck extended outward to reveal every vein that courses through it. His breaths are deep, forced, labored and only add to the dementia that swirls through his tensed body. Robin continues to lean back, eyes open and mouth agape in shock over his behavior.

Robin: How?

She asks this with little though and tears almost swelling in the ducts of her eyes while the man she’s pledged herself too slinks back a bit, trying to calm his rattled nerves.

Hurse: You know how.

After taking a few steps in reverse from a shaking, almost crying Robin, the hand of Jackson Adams slips over the Champion’s vacant shoulder. He pulls him back a bit, Hurse’s knuckles curling as he’s touched. He stops himself from hurting Adams though as he looks into his associate’s face.

Jackson: Come on, we need to get ready for our match, no more distractions, okay?

Jackson stares deeply into Hurse’s eyes, trying to ensure that he’s set and ready for the impending challenge. After a second of calming himself with deep, labored breaths, the Champion nods and turns. He doesn’t even look back at a shocked Robin, leaving her behind with Adams, who’s lips curl into a pompous grin. He slowly strolls into Brooks’ direction while she is still shellshocked and frozen by her disbelief and dread, his arm slipping over her tensed shoulders. Once the effect of those stinging comments finally wears off, her eyes lift to stare into Jackson’s crude, unabashed smile.

Jackson: Ain’t love just grand?

A sneaky, weasely chuckle creeps through Adams’ smiling teeth before he turns and walks away, leaving Robin alone with her misery. Finally she lowers her face into her hands where pools of tears are surely collecting.

RINGSIDE

A huge smile resides on Billy Mayne’s face while he tries to cover up his laughter with his hand, Dan sitting slouched over his announce table beside him, shaking his head in a state of repulsion.

Douglas: Again I find myself absolutely appalled by the behavior of Hurse, and that sappy speech just given by Desolation. I don’t know how, but I find myself getting more and more disgusted with each passing week we’re forced to deal with the Alpha Generation.

Mayne: This show would have zero entertainment value if it were not for the likes of them. Desolation’s speech was unlike AWOL’s, it made sense, it was captivating, it was moving, and it was inspirational! And Hurse, well, Robin deserves being shouted at, actually, she deserves a whole lot worse if you ask me.

Dan: Thank God I didn’t, and believe me, I’d never wantonly seek your advice on any matter. But one thing all of us deserve, is to see what should be a stupendous one on one match that’s coming up here next as Orlando Cruze prepares to go one on one with Nathan Creed.

Billy: Although my fondness for either of these two gentlemen is fading, I do believe they’ll put on a sure fire match of the year candidate right here live next.

Douglas: There is a rich, storied history between both of these men, let’s take you back and show you where this all started?

A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE

Voice: The winners of this match, and new ULW World Tag Team Champions, Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed!!!

Emotional, almost sappy music plays in the background as both Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed are shown standing victorious in the ring, the tag team titles raised high above their heads in victory. Their sweaty faces glare across the ring at one another, former friends, turned enemies, turned friends yet again. Dan Douglas’ voice pipes in the background, relaying the history between both the Future and the Icon.

Douglas: Nathan Creed and Orlando Cruze came into the ULW together, and were closer than brothers.

Both men are shown walking down the corridor side by side, before cutting to them in the ring, standing in a tag team like pose. Quickly the image fades in a flash and is replaced rather abruptly with one featuring Nathan standing in the back, tears almost coming down his face as he stares into the Annihilation World Heavyweight title, Orlando right there beside him, patting him on the back as both men move in slow, more dramatic motion. Again in a quick, bright flash, the image feeds into another with Orlando standing in the ring at Paranoia II, that same Annihilation World Heavyweight title now dangling from his grasp. He stands over the fallen body of Alexander Fayt while a sweaty Creed, who was also his opponent steps forward, taking him by the wrist, lifting his arm aloft in victory, showing his support.

Douglas: They’ve had success together, and failures as well throughout the years.

The duo of world class athletes are displayed defending their tag team titles in a vicious bout against two FUF representatives, Waylon Spencer, and Liam Knowles. The contest is intense, and their bodies seem battered and bruised. In the end, the music increases in sadness as Nathan is pinned with the tag team titles hanging in the balance, ending their incredible streak as champions. A very demoralized, despair ridden face of Nathan is shown, looking on longingly towards Orlando, who rests on his knees, almost overcome with grief and heartache over their loss.

Douglas: As their friendship and popularity grew, there was always one thing that ate away at them, the thought of who the better man truly was? Needless to say this created some dissension amongst the ranks.

More chaotic, less endearing moments from the relationship between Nathan and Orlando are now shown. Scenes are displayed featuring Creed slamming a steel chair over Orlando’s skull while he had Kingdom in a submission, as well as the other way around, with the Icon accidently driving the same piece of warped metal into Nathan’s cranium during a hell in a cell match. A moment that would cost Nathan his short lived title reign, and fuel months of animosity.

Dan: They met in combat many times before...

The tunes in the background pick up in their intensity and their high pitch as Orlando delivers the Rock Bottom on Creed in the center of the ring, driving him with force into the canvas. It then cuts to Nathan slamming the Icon down into a thing of thumbtacks, all of which piercing, ripping at his skin, leaving him in a bloodied heap upon the canvas. The video transfers into Orlando standing tall, victorious over Nathan who struggles to reach his feet, but then shifts to the Future doing the same thing, having defeated a tough, game Icon.

Douglas: But the issue between these two gladiators, these two unstoppable warriors was never truly resolved before their paths would bring them together or apart again...

With an abrupt change the whole dynamic of the slow moving video is altered, now featuring Orlando crouched behind a staggered, turning Desolation. Loud drumming sound can be heard in the background before with force the Dark Man is Rock Bottomed by his former pupil and driven hard back first into the canvas. In another abrupt flash scenes are displayed correlating to a now confident, swaggering Orlando making his way to the ring, a truly changed man he appears to be. His confidence seems to be incapable of measure.

Orlando: I am the true World Heavyweight Champion.

Again Cruze is featured hitting the Rock Bottom on the Champion at the time, Desolation, completely betraying his mentor. It then cuts to him holding the Annihilation World title above his head on three separate occasions. That’s before the intense, ravenous eyes of Nathan Creed come into focus.

Nathan: You’ve completely betrayed everything that you stand for Cruze...

An in ring segment from months ago comes into play as Nathan and Orlando stand across from one another, Creed trying to reason with his former partner, attempting to bring him back to the side of virtue. Orlando doesn’t want to listen to any of it though, completely uninterested in any of his ravings.

Creed: You sold out Orlando, and until you remember what made you a champion in the first place you’ll never return to your former glory...

The very serious, determined eyes of Nathan Creed are shown once more before the video abruptly cuts to Orlando slapping him across the face. It then showcases Cruze crouched in waiting behind Nathan, who spins right around into a hard Rock Bottom that plants him with devastating impact against the canvas. It even goes into the scene displaying Orlando seated on a steel chair, driving it downward into the throat of Nathan while lecturing him.

Orlando: The only person who has hit a funk in their career is you Nathan. You need to stop believing the crap you’ve been shoveling lately...

Nathan is featured turning around with a sadness in his face while located in the ring before it shifts to some of his more abysmal failures in the ring, such as Jackson Adams standing on a ladder above him with his Livewire title in hand.

Cruze: If you ever want to get back on the right track, if you want to do something with your career, you’re the one who needs to change.

More violence explodes between both men in this video package, stirring up a hornet’s nest of bad memories. Such as Creed hitting Orlando with the Rock Bottom onto the outside mats, as well as the Icon slamming a chair over the back of his former best friend. Nathan is then featured delivering the German suplex on Orlando, before cutting to the Icon placing him in the crossface, really ripping and tearing at his shoulder.

Dan: But no matter how bad things got, old alliances die hard.

A clip from not so long ago in the past resonates across the screen and depicts Orlando being savagely assaulted by a swarm of Alpha Generation members. Orlando is being held up with his arms pinned by both Zack Nolan and Ryan Mills while Too Magnificent slugs him repeatedly in the forehead. That’s when Nathan emerges through the curtains and walks down the ramp, requesting the use of a steel chair while Orlando is prone, helpless before him. One is promptly handed to him while Creed stands there, savoring this moment, about the utilize the same object that has caused so much pain and misery to both men.

Douglas: Old alliance, die hard.

The music picks up to an almost spine-tingling beat before Creed turns and slams the steel with a hard thud over the heads of Zack Nolan, Ryan Mills and Too Magnificent, taking all three men, coming to the aid of Orlando. The video cuts between both men’s faces, staring unsure into one another’s eyes. The images slow a bit as Orlando is featured walking tentatively into the dressing room of Nathan Creed, where he’s busy doing squat thrusts. He stands to greet the Icon though.

Dan: Even with friendships brewing, desire to achieve, desire to prove who’s the best is truly unquenchable.

Cruze: I think I should do now what I’ve been dreading all week long, and that’s apologize for these past few months of attacks and such. Like you, I just don’t know what’s come over me. And again like you, I think listening to the advice, no matter how crazed it can be at times, of another has begun to re-awaken my mind a bit, and put me in the direction I should be heading in.

The lens zooms in on their hands which interlock while shaking. Orlando goes to leave before Creed pulls him again, the tunes in the background getting a little more deep. Immediately scenes of them both attacking one another quickly flash by, sporadically placed, but each one more violent than the one before it. Finally it comes back to them, eye to eye, hands still interlocked.

Nathan: There’s a way you can prove your thankfulness to me. You see, this animosity between us is never going to go away until we finally find out who truly is the better man. So I’m asking you, as an old friend, agree to go one on one with me at Born Again. No crazy stipulations, none of that garbage, just a straight one on one match to settle any animosity between us, and for us to find out who’s the best.

Cruze seems to contemplate it, stroking his jaw while gazing deep into the face of Creed. Again images quickly fly past the screen, such as them standing side by side with the tag titles high above their heads. As well as them celebrating by taking hold of one another’s wrists and lifting them aloft. The beat in the background builds to a crescendo as Creed anxiously anticipates Orlando’s answer. After a long pause, the camera cutting between both their faces, Orlando replies.

Orlando: You got it.

The music really kicks up in the background as scenes of both men attacking one another but then coming to each other’s aid are dispersed throughout the package. Orlando giving Creed the Rock Bottom, Nathan doing the same to Cruze, both men standing with the Annihilation World title, the duo located in the ring with the tag titles held high.

Douglas: And now their paths, their journey has led at last to the final battle....

Orlando slaps Creed, before it shows Nathan coming to his former friend’s aid against the Alpha Generation.

Douglas: Where their histories will be re-awakened, and their glory will be Born Again.

All the past incidents and encounters between them are played out in super quick motion, so many years worth of moments reduced to a mere five seconds worth of emotional film. In the end the camera cuts between the ravenous eyes of Nathan, and the stoic, but confused gaze of Orlando, before finally settling on their hands interlocked and shaking.

NATHAN CREED VS. ORLANDO CRUZE

Chris Cornell’s You know my Name plays through the PA system and rouses a huge response from the capacity crowd. With laser lighting shining to the stage and around the rafters. The lights have dimmed and the words Cruze flash repeatedly on the video screen, building into the arrival of the Icon himself. White strobe lights flicker down either side of the ramp before through the curtains emerges none other than Orlando. The crowd responds with a massive ovation at the sight of him, the Icon keeping his focus now with his ribs taped and his eyes centered on the ring. He strolls down the ramp towards the squared circle, past the strobe lighting that flashes across his ripped upper torso and staunch, stoic eyes. Upon reaching the ring Orlando strolls up the steps onto the apron then climbs the turnbuckle to the top rope, raising his arm high into the air aloft over his body.

Douglas: The time is now, it’s here for the final battle between Nathan Creed and Orlando Cruze at Born Again. The Icon realizes what’s on the line here, what’s in store for him, a match that should push him to his absolute physical level.

Mayne: And considering what transpired last week on Riot!, his physical peak, or limit, may not be that high to begin with. If Nathan doesn’t take advantage of that, especially based on what transpired earlier in the night, then he’s a damned idiot.

Dan: As much as the thought troubles me, Nathan might have to go to those ribs and that mid-section if he wants to win this match tonight. If there’s any man who can overcome such obstacles though, it would have to be Orlando Cruze.

Billy: Your always saying that, building Orlando up to mythical proportions. He’s not a superhero like we saw earlier with Max Power.

Orlando strolls around the ring, jumping up and down a bit while stretching his injured ribs. He twists a bit to get some feeling back into them, but drawing attention to them is probably the last thing he wants to be doing at this point in time. Tension fills the airwaves, signaling the emergence of the technical wizard himself Nathan Creed. Orlando’s eyes narrow on the entry way as the lights dim and strobes begin to flash amongst the darkness.

LET’S GOOOOO

With that Polyamorous by Breaking Benjamin seeps through the loud speakers and sparks Nathan’s arrival as he tears through the curtains, strolling onto the stage. He doesn’t pause whatsoever while keeping his eyes focused square on the ring and his limbering up opponent within it. His feet carry him with no apprehension in it’s direction while some fans cheer, and others boo his arrival. Creed stepping towards the squared circle strangely focused, more determined than ever before, paying no attention whatsoever to those cheering fans gathered at his sides. He makes his way up the steps onto the apron and then glares into the ring at Orlando who cracks a smile, trying to lighten things up a bit between them. Creed rolls his eyes with a half grin before shaking his head, allowing bygones to be bygones. He finally slips through the ropes into the squared circle, cracking his neck in preparation for this huge one on one match.

Douglas: Well, although the animosity is still present, it looks like cooler heads have prevailed between these two..

Mayne: Yeah, but the flames of hatred will be reignited the longer this match goes. Plus like I said earlier, you can never take Nathan’s true emotional state at face value. Who knows what’s going behind those cold, calculating eyes. We already know he tried to kill Cruze last week with a crate, what’s he going to do tonight when he’s got him in the ring?

Dan: All you have is speculation that points to Creed as the culprit behind the attack on Orlando, but can we please forget that now for the sake of watching what should be a truly incredible one on one match between these two?

Mayne: Okay, okay, I’ll try to save my speculation for later.

The crowd is noticeably enthused by the thought of this one, realizing they are in store for a sure fire classic as both Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed stand across from one another. Both men eye each other very closely, Creed’s attention momentarily shifting to Orlando’s bandaged ribs though. That’s before their eyes interlock once again and they start to step towards one another. Before they can even lock up however, the fans start cheering, slapping the barricades and going nuts, many of them having waited a long time to see this match take place. Both Cruze and Creed stop, overlooking the cheering fans with slight smiles on their faces. That’s before they put back on their game faces, getting focused once again on the task at hand, and recalling everything that transpired this evening. The bell officially sounds in the background.

Douglas: The wait is over, the time is now, this is Nathan Creed one on one with Orlando Cruze, in a match that has been building for so many years. But this isn’t based on a rivalry, this is based on respect.

Mayne: Sure, tell yourself that Dan. But we all know Nathan is the one who pushed that crate into Cruze’s ribs last week, injuring him in preparation for this match. And although he wants to deny it, Orlando knows it deep down inside as well.

Dan: I fail to see how that had any relevance to anything I just said.

Both men continue to circle one another before finally jumping forward, locking up in a collar elbow tie. Neither one wishes to hesitate any longer as they jockey for positioning, pushing against one another in a desperate attempt to catch some quick momentum. However, neither man seems capable of finding that advantage they’re looking for, breaking off and stepping in reverse as they eye one another closely. They nod respectfully towards one another again then step forward, establishing another collar elbow tie. They are really putting all their body has got behind the collar elbow, burying their feet hard into the canvas and pushing forward with a great deal of exertion. Yet still neither individual can get the advantage they’re looking for before almost in a sneaky manner Creed switches around behind Cruze, wrapping his arms around his waist. He immediately tries to hoist Orlando into the air in order to hit the German suplex, but Cruze reaches back with his leg, wrapping it around Nathan’s keeping from being driven into the canvas. Nathan tries to hoist him again though with a loud grunt before Orlando starts to step forward across the canvas, dragging himself into the ropes. The Icon reaches out, wrapping his arms around the top one while official Chester Wright steps in, starting a five count to make Nathan break the waist lock. The official can’t even reach three before Nathan properly releases Orlando and steps in reverse, smiling almost arrogantly in Cruze’s direction. Realizing that he was close to being hit with one of Nathan’s hard suplexes, Orlando turns and smiles slightly, stepping away from the ropes very slowly.

Creed bends forward, pointing straight down at the canvas, motioning for Orlando to bring it now as Cruze becomes all too serious once again. He steps forward as both men immediately lock up in another collar elbow tie. They begin to push against one another with their upper and lower body strength before Cruze twists his body, and grabs hold of one Nathan’s wrist in the process. He only momentarily spins under the arm and sticks out to Creed’s side to lock in an arm ringer before dragging Creed into the side of his body, establishing a quick side headlock submission. The Icon begins to force his arms up and down across the sides of Nathan’s face before Creed grabs the back of Orlando’s tights and starts to rush in reverse into the cables. Both men bounce off of them and then rush forward when Nathan pushes Cruze off the side headlock. Just as Orlando is about to charge across the ring though, Nathan grabs hold of the back of his tights and uses them to pull him in reverse right into a rear waist lock. Before Cruze can do anything to fight it, Nathan snaps him over into a huge release German suplex. The back of Orlando’s head and shoulders hit the ring with brutal force that sends him bouncing off and rolling across the canvas. Orlando uses the momentum of the roll to carry himself under the ropes and land on his feet on the outside mats. He immediately reaches for both his taped ribs and the back of his head while glaring in shock towards a smiling Nathan in the ring. Again Creed bends forward and playfully motions for Orlando to re-enter the ring while the fans are cheering this last exchange.

Douglas: Nathan popping those hips and delivering one hell of a quick, brutal German on Orlando, right when Cruze though he has escaped that vicious suplex.

Mayne: Nathan’s got those good child bearing hips I guess, which allow him to do that move with such ease. But this is boring the living shit out of me, when are these guys going to begin to take some of this stuff personally, and actually start trying to hurt one another.

Dan: This is what they call a feeling out process Billy. If you knew anything about wrestling, you’d know that by now.

The fans are still clapping while Orlando pulls himself up onto the apron, glaring through the ropes right at Creed with a smile of his own. He now re-enters the ring, Nathan graciously allowing him to do so while he leans back first against one of the turnbuckles, watching all of this with that same grin plastered across his face. Creed swipes his hand through the air and motions towards the center of the ring while Orlando just nods, grinning and pointing to the back of his neck. He’s now the one who motions for them both to again lock it up, as they step forward and reach out. This time they change it up, interlocking their hands with one another in a basic Greco Knuckle Lock. They both begin to push against the other, forcing their arms over backwards then burying their chest against one another, trying to overpower the other. They are attempting to the best of their abilities to show who truly does possess the greater strength out of the two of them. However, it seems to be a stalemate before Nathan really begins to grunt and put the full weight of his body behind his arms. He sticks his leg out, placing it around behind one of Cruze’s and shoving him downward towards the canvas. Instead though, Orlando is forced to bridge over in reverse, keeping both of his feet planted to the canvas though with Nathan grinding his teeth as he forces him downward.

The crowd claps as they see that the top of Orlando’s head is touching the canvas while he is bridged completely over backwards, blocking the obvious pain that courses through his mid-section. Nathan is leaning down as far into the palms of Cruze as he can, pushing the back of his fists against the canvas. Yet he can’t take Orlando out of the bridging position therefore decides to change it up, jumping into the air with his knees and coming down with them right into the front of Cruze’s thighs. But somehow Orlando is still bridging over backwards, not landing on his spine but keeping the top of his head and feet buried against the canvas with Creed on top of him. Nathan looks around a bit surprised he couldn’t take Orlando down to his back before he slides off his opponent onto his feet beside him. Nathan again jumps high into the air while still pinning Cruze’s hands to the canvas with the Greco knuckle lock, coming down with both knees right into the front of Orlando’s upper legs. Somehow Orlando is able to keep bridging over though, finally starting to frustrate Nathan. He gives up with his present strategy and instead slips off Cruze, landing on his posterior which allows Orlando to push his hands off the canvas and lift his arms into the air slowly. Just as he does though Nathan kicks his head out from under him, causing Orlando to finally tumble onto his back as Nathan sits beside him. But this seems to be what Cruze was planning as he immediately rolls over backwards through both his and Nathan’s arms, getting to his feet and pushing down on the hands of Nathan. Creed’s wrists are bent over backwards at an awkward angle while Nathan sits there, shouting in pain.

Instead of remaining on his seat though, with Orlando pushing down on his wrists with the test of strength, Nathan rolls over in reverse much like the Icon did a few seconds ago. He gets right to his feet with both men’s hands still interlocked and lifts one of his legs into the air. He places his knee to the front of one of Orlando’s wrists and uses it to push the hand away from his own. He then quickly swings around under the other one and switches behind Cruze’s back, locking him in a reverse waist lock. Before he can do what he plans, Orlando performs a standing switch, getting behind his back then dropping in reverse, hitting a German supex on Nathan Creed that gets the fans out of their seats. Nathan bounces with a thud from the ring before rolling over in reverse onto his knees, his eyes wide with shock as Orlando stands up in front of him immediately, a giant smile spread across the Icon’s face.

Douglas: A German suplex from Orlando Cruze now, and it was almost as good, if not better than Nathan’s. And he follows it up with that same toothy grin Nathan’s been flashing him all throughout this match.

Mayne: Toothy is the last word you can use to describe Nathan’s smile. I think the Boogeyman has better teeth than Creed, and better mic skills. But if I were Nathan, I’d be furious over the fact that Orlando is trying to show him up with his own move.

Billy: This is all friendly competition Billy.

Still the fans are cheering what they just witnessed while Orlando backs up to the center of the ring and motions with both hands for Creed to bring it. Nathan is still holding the back of his neck before a smile comes to his face, nodding his head as he rises to his feet. Again Creed points to the center of the ring, demanding they lock up in another Greco knuckle lock, with Cruze agrees to. Both men step forward and bend over with their hands rising into the air, about to interlock their palms once again. That’s when Nathan turns and delivers a vicious knife edge chop right to Orlando’s chest, causing Cruze to yell out in pain while turning away from Creed. He covers his sternum with both arms while Nathan smirks and taps his temple, that’s before Orlando spins around and delivers his own knife edge chop right to the sternum of Creed. The crowd unleashes a woo as a result while Nathan is staggered backwards from the impact, swiping his hand over his chest in surprise, making sure it’s not bleeding. The smiles on both men’s faces are gone and replaced with intense glares right as they charge forward and lock up in another collar elbow tie. Both men are more serious now, scraping and clawing almost in this lock to get the advantage while turning in circles around the ring. They both drop to their knees now, still unable to get the advantage with this collar elbow before they fall sideways, rolling across the canvas together and spilling under the ropes to the outside mats. Both men land on their feet with the collar elbow tie still locked in, Nathan shoving Orlando back first right into the announce table. Orlando hits it hard with his spine, bridging over it a bit while Nathan pushes against him. Creed breaks the collar elbow though and delivers a sensational chop right across Orlando’s chest. The fans react with absolute shock over the force of the blow, Orlando stumbling forward with his arms over his sternum. He is turned away from Creed who charges up behind him, delivering a hard clubbing blow right over his upper back.

The force of the strike sends Orlando stumbling forward further, this time turning as he hits the barricade with his back. Nathan steps forward, showing some great intensity as he delivers one more chop that echoes throughout the arena, connecting hard with the chest of the Icon. Orlando is almost knocked off of his feet by the blow before he reaches out, grabbing Creed around the back of the head, stepping away from the barricade and throwing Nathan back first against it. He then delivers his own chop, this one with even greater force than the one he delivered in the ring before. The impact of which sends Creed turning and tumbling over the barricade, right into the front row. The fans clear out of the way while cheering loudly, this match turning from fun and games into a frantic slugfest within a matter of seconds.

Mayne: Now this is starting to get good.

Douglas: Both men really going at it now, realizing the time for fun is over, it’s time to get serious, this is about finding out who truly is the best between them.

Orlando steps over the barricade while Nathan is struggling to his feet, still holding his chest while the crowd clears out of his way. His back is to Orlando, who changes that by grabbing Creed by the shoulder and spinning him around right into a hard strike right to the face. Creed is stumbled by the fist to his face before Orlando steps forward and delivers another one, Nathan turning away as he moves through the sea of humanity. They create a path for him though while Orlando steps quickly towards him, again grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around only for Nathan to deliver another brutal, stiff knife edge right across his chest. A red streak is left on Orlando’s sternum as he turns away from Creed, stumbling through the fans and back towards the barricade. That’s when Creed steps up behind him and wraps his arms around Orlando’s waist, about to give him a German right onto the exposed concrete floor, their friendship be damned. Orlando reaches out, grabbing some fans by their shirts to keep from being hoisted over backwards, fighting to keep from being dropped on that damaged mid-section. He finally begins to back elbow Nathan with force right to the side of the head, causing him to break the position for the German and stumble away. Cruze tries to catch his breath after having the air knocked out of him by that last chop, stepping towards the barricade then falling side first against it. He turns to face Nathan though who is rushing through the fans, building a great deal of momentum as he charges at his tag team partner. That’s before Orlando steps forward, catching him under the arm and by the back of the head then hip tossing him right over the barricade, hard spine first directly across the mats. Creed rolls to his knees, reaching for his spine in pain after that brutal collision, yet he’s already crawling towards the ring.

Douglas: I was not expecting this. I thought we would be seeing a technical masterpiece, which is kind of what this match started out being, but instead these two are just brawling with another all around the ring.

Mayne: They understand what’s important here now, not friendship, but victory.

Creed rises to his feet with help from the apron, something he’ll regret in just a few moments, for as he turns to face Orlando, Cruze charges in, burying his shoulder against his gut then driving him hard spine first against the side of the ring. Nathan shouts in pain then bends forward as Orlando slugs him with force right across the side of the face, sending him flying backwards into the apron. Creed hits it and then lands on his feet before Orlando turns him to the ring and rolls h im in under the ropes, starting to slide into the squared circle himself. While holding his back though Nathan gets to his feet and begins to stomp at Orlando as he tries to enter, delivering repeated boots to the top of his head and back. Nevertheless Cruze rises to his feet only to receive a thunderous, devastating headbunt right to the face, knocking him down to the canvas across his spine once again. Nathan steps in, no longer caring while his entire body has turned a shade of blood red, grabbing the top rope and beginning to stomp at Orlando’s ribs repeatedly. The crowd jumps all over him for doing so, but Nathan doesn’t care, he just continues to boot Orlando to the ribs and chest, as well as his face, any portion of his frame that tries to move upward. Finally Nathan grabs Orlando by the wrist, pulling him up to his feet then unleashing a loud grunt as he drags Cruze forward into a hard short arm clothesline directly across the throat. Orlando crashes with force to the ring with Nathan steps forward, shaking his arm, trying to fight off any damage he may have just done to himself with that last move. He then steps right towards the turnbuckle, wasting no time as he slips through the ropes onto the apron, beginning to scale the turnbuckle quickly while Orlando is in a prone state on the canvas.

Mayne: Nathan going up top already, perhaps to deliver a big splash of some sorts that will further target those ribs.

Douglas: Indeed, Creed prepared to do whatever it takes in this contest to get the win.

Nathan begins to step across the apron right as Orlando gets to his feet and charges at him. The Future barely has time to turn and spot him before he’s jabbed right across the jaw, knocking him through a loop, yet holding onto the top rope to keep from crashing to the outside mats. That’s when Orlando grabs him by the back of the head, charging him forward across the apron from the inside of the ring and pushing his face downward right into the outside of the turnbuckle he intended to climb. Creed bounces off hard, turning away from the ring with a very dazed expression on his face before Orlando springs into the air, delivering a beautiful dropkick directly to his upper back. The force of which sends Nathan flying off the apron and then crashing sternum first right off the announce table. He turns and crashes onto his back immediately afterwards while Orlando gets to his feet in the ring, raising a single arm aloft. The crowd goes nuts at the sight of this while Nathan lies on the outside mats, his eyes opened widely, as if concussed.

Billy: Wow, it’s like I’m wearing a pear of 3D specs or something because this action is right in my face.

Douglas: And believe me, that’s a position nobody wants to be in.

Quickly Orlando slips under the ropes to the outside of the ring, approaching Nathan who is using the announce table to force himself to his feet, finally shaking off the effects of his collision with it. Just like the apron though, Nathan lives to regret what he uses as a prop to hold himself up because Cruze grabs him by the back of the head and slams him down face first right off the surface of the table. Creed bounces off with force and spins away from Orlando who takes him by the wrist and the back of the head, rushing him across the mats then throwing him downward, head and shoulder first right into the steel steps. The top lair go flying while Creed turns and crashes onto his posterior, leaning back first against the lower portion of the steel. He has a very dazed, incoherent look in his eyes before Orlando steps in and slams a fist right across his forehead. He then stomps Nathan hard to the sternum and grabs him around the jaw, leading him to his feet. Orlando bends forward, placing his shoulder to his gut before charging him spine first right into the apron once again. A loud roar comes from Creed while he reaches for his spine, Orlando keeping his shoulder buried against his gut before reaching down, wrapping his arms around Nathan’s leg. He folds it up then lifts him high into the air, turning and dropping Creed knee first right onto the lower portion of the stairs. Nathan again yells at the top of his lungs while bashing off the steel, rolling across the mats and reaching for his leg while Orlando stumbles backwards, falling against the announce table. He shakes his head, trying to come to his senses and get his mind straight, just now feeling the effects of that headbunt Creed delivered a few moments ago. Speaking of whom, Nathan is still writhing on the mats, reaching for his leg while Orlando steps in, grabbing him around the jaw. Orlando drags Creed to his feet and again folds his leg up so that his knee and shin are open for attacks. Using whatever strength remains in his damaged mid-section, Orlando hoists Nathan into the air onto his shoulder side first and rushes across the mats before throwing Creed forward at the exposed steel turnbuckle post. Nathan’s shin and knee bashes off of it before he tumbles onto his back, rolling around the mats while reaching for his knee and shouting in agony.

Mayne: MY GOD! Orlando may have just broke Nathan’s leg. I’ve never seen anything quite that vicious done by someone to their own friend.

Douglas: This a testament to just serious of a threat both men believe the other to be, they’re doing things they normally wouldn’t do because they realize that it’s going to take just that to put the other man away.

Billy: I thought only the guys who were friends on Jackass inflicted this much pain on one another.

Orlando rolls into the ring then back out of it to break up the official’s count, although Wright isn’t moving very quickly to disqualify either man, allowing this contest to have lax rules. Nathan uses this time to start pulling himself to his feet while utilizing the barricade to stand before Cruze steps in and slugs him hard to the face. Creed is almost taken down out of a standing position now while Orlando grabs him by the back of the head, leading him towards the ring. He rolls Nathan in under the ropes while Creed fights to get to his feet, yet can’t seem to put any pressure on his leg. That’s when Orlando slides in after him, looking to take the advantage, right as he steps towards his opponent/friend, Nathan stands and lobs a desperate but still brutal knife edge chop across his chest. Orlando steps back from the force, his entire body cringing from the impact until he takes a step forward and delivers a quick dropkick right to Nathan’s knee. The impact knocks Creed’s legs out from under him and again sends him crashing to the canvas chest first. He rolls onto his back, holding his leg up in the air while shouting in pain as he wraps both his hands around his knee. Even his shouts of pain don’t stop Cruze, who rises to his feet and steps in, wrapping his arm around Nathan’s knee. He then drops back, hitting a DDT on Nathan’s leg, that could have possibly popped the knee joint out of place. Nathan begins to flop on the canvas a result, reaching for his leg while Orlando extends it out over the canvas then drops a quick elbow right to the side of his knee. The pain is quite clear as Creed places his hands over his face, falling onto his back and unable to even vocalize the amount of anguish he’s in.

Pressing the advantage and still working over that knee, Orlando gets up, grabbing Nathan by the ankle, lifting his leg into the air. He then puts his foot to the opposite side of Nathan’s other leg, right beside his hip before jumping forward. He flips over top of Creed and pulls his leg with him, causing his knee and every muscle to be hyper-extended as a result. Again Creed begins to roll back and forth, grabbing hold of his knee and wincing in pain, unable to bear the anguish flowing through his leg. Realizing that he has him grounded, Orlando steps in, grabbing Creed around the head before Nathan pushes his hands away. Therefore Orlando drops a quick knee right into his forehead, then stands up again, having a much easier time pulling Creed to his feet. Nathan hobbles badly though while Orlando leads him towards one of the turnbuckles, Creed unable to muster up much of a fight at this point in time. Cruze quickly turns Nathan’s back towards the ropes and lifts up on his damaged leg, placing the front of his foot over the middle cable so that his knee is bent . Orlando then steps up onto the bottom rope, springing off of it before extending his elbow and dropping it hard right to the back of Nathan’s knee. Creed roars in agony, falling to the canvas and reaching for his leg with the fans screaming along with him. Many turn away at the sight of the awkward bending of Nathan’s knee on that exchange. Creed rolls around, reaching for his leg while Orlando gets to his feet and grabs him around the head once again. He rolls Nathan up slowly to a standing base and reaches down, folding up his leg once more to expose his knee. Orlando lifts Creed up into the air and onto his shoulder, intending to hit a shin breaker across his own knee when Nathan thinks quickly, turning then sliding over Cruze’s shoulders and down his back. He wraps his arms around Orlando’s waist, pulling him over in reverse into a sunset flip.

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Orlando rolls over backwards right onto his feet and grabs Nathan’s legs, crossing one of the other as he steps through then drops onto his back, applying a figure four leg lock.

Dan: What a great counter into a classic textbook submission hold, Orlando busting out the figure four leg lock on Nathan’s already badly damaged knee.

Mayne: I don’t think I’ve seen this move used even once since we’ve been opened. But it’s a sound, textbook, perfect move to utilize when working over Creed’s legs like this. Ric Flair hasn’t been forcing people to tap out for years to nothing.

Orlando applies as much pressure as he can while Nathan falls onto his back, covering his face with his palms and yelling at the top of his lungs. Cruze further applies force on the hold, causing Creed to sit up and shout loudly once again, almost in tears over the pain coursing through his leg. He then falls onto his back though, almost passing out from it as Wright spots that both his shoulders are on the canvas. He drops down and makes the count.

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Nathan sits up again only for Orlando put even more pressure on the submission, causing him to tumble onto his back once more.

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Creed shoots his shoulder off the canvas and turns his body in the process, trying to roll towards the ropes which are just a few feet away or turn Cruze over to put the pressure on him. Orlando’s eyes open widely, realizing that it’s going to take more than the figure four to keep Nathan down as he can feel his back being lifted off the canvas, his body being dragged over sideways. Cruze begins to shake his head as Nathan clinches his fists, shaking them then falling over onto his chest and stomach, pulling Orlando into the same position. He’s reversed the figure four, now putting the pressure on Cruze who pushes himself up with his palms, writhing in agony and making his pain quite vocal. But somehow Cruze begins to show his smarts and agility, falling onto his side and using another favorable attribute, his strength to free one of his legs, prying it out from between Creed’s. Instead of breaking the figure our out right though he reaches out, pushing Nathan’s legs around one another again then using his free foot to hold them there, pushing it right against the front of one of Creed’s ankles. The crowd screams as Orlando has revered Nathan’s reversal into a form of the Inverted Indian Death Lock. Nathan again finds himself roaring in pain, not having expected this in the slightest. He pushes himself up on his palms, closing his eyes tightly together and shaking his head as the official inquires as to rather or not he wishes to tap out. Finally he reaches out with his arm and drops sideways right into the ropes. The official steps in and starts a five count on Cruze, demanding he break the submission before Orlando promptly releases Creed at a count of four, trying to do as much damage as possible.

Douglas: Nathan barely finding it to those ropes before he was forced to tap out. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone reverse a countered figure four into an inverted Indian Death Lock, that was some good quick thinking by Orlando, and it almost got him the victory.

Mayne: Can you stop sucking the man’s cock already? He’s good, we got it already. Just write down all your lovely, infatuating comments to Cruze and send them to him in a Hallmark card for crying out loud.

Orlando rolls to his seat in the center of the ring, starting to build up some sweat thinks to this intense, hard hitting, yet technical brawl he’s been in with Nathan. He’s taking a moment to formulate his gameplan while Nathan tries to utilize the cables to force himself to his feet. His leg is killing him though, shaking it beneath him to get some feeling back into his knee, slapping it hard to knock the pain out of it almost. Orlando steps in though and delivers a hard right hand to the side of his face, almost taking Creed right back down to the canvas. It only takes one more to knock Nathan off of his feet, causing him to crash onto his back and his leg to lift into the air in perfect position for Orlando to grab it, which he quickly does. Cruze stays on the damaged limb, dragging Creed around on his back then sticking his leg through the top and middle rope, leaving his knee elevated in the air over the canvas. Nathan can’t seem to block it as Orlando steps over the leg, straddling it then steps up onto the bottom rope. He uses it to spring into the air, intending to come down posterior first onto the knee only for Creed to lift his other foot into the air, placing it to Cruze’s posterior and using it to shove him over the ropes. Creed’s incredible leg strength sends Orlando flying over the top rope, but turning as he lands feet first on the apron, holding onto the top rope somehow. He stares down at Creed who is spread across his back on the canvas and uses the top rope to pull himself over into a twisting corkscrew splash that connects right with the canvas. Nathan rolled out of the way, under the ropes and onto the apron to avoid Orlando’s big splash, having saw it coming before Cruze even thought about using it himself.

Orlando holds his ribs now, reaching out and grabbing the ropes as he begins to pull himself upward. Right as he gets to his feet, Nathan reaches over the ropes, standing on the apron, and slaps on a front chancery. He now reaches over the cables, grabbing the back of Orlando’s trunks, trying to lift him into the air in order to hit a vertical suplex on the outside mats. Orlando is trying to fight it though, attempting to block it but Creed won’t be denied, turning the pain in his knee into anger and a loud roar. Cruze is lifted into the air with wide eyes before both men drop off the apron backwards, hitting the outside mats with a huge vertical suplex that takes them both out.

Douglas: OOOOOHHHHH! Nathan taking out Orlando and doing the same to himself with that vertical suplex to the outside mats!

Mayne: That was devastating, absolutely devastating!

The crowd is standing, giving a loud ovation for the move they just witnessed, the move that has left both men writhing in agony on the mats, unable to get up. Orlando has turned onto his side, reaching for his bandaged mid-section, trying to block the pain, trying to fight through it like Nathan did with his knee. Although reluctant, Wright steps towards the ropes, starting a ten count which causes the fans to boo but yet still count along.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8......

Orlando and Nathan begin to stir, both men starting to roll to their hands and knees, attempting to get up to the best of their abilities. Creed’s knee buckles though as he drops back down to all fours, unable to get all the way up.

9.......

As quick as his body can Orlando rolls into the ring then rolls back out to keep Creed from being counted out, realizing this match cannot end this way. Orlando holds his back in tremendous pain as he comes down a few feet removed from Nathan who is still holding his knee. Although in much pain himself, Cruze charges forward, getting a burst of adrenaline right when Nathan stands, catching Orlando ribs first against his shoulder then throwing him high into the air. The Icon flips over and crashes with force right across his back on the outside mats thanks to a big back drop from Nathan. Orlando sits up, yelling out in pain, gasping for air thanks to the agony flowing through his bandaged mid-section thanks to the move. Nevertheless he begins to turn, rolling onto his knees, trying to stand up right when Nathan limps in and grabs him by the wrist. Cruze is helped to his feet before Nathan unleashes another loud, primal grunt and whips Orlando with all of his strength right at the steel plated barricade. Orlando turns and slams off the steel ribs first, being launched downward to the mats, screaming in agony as he wraps his arms around his ribs, Nathan stumbling in after him.

Mayne: And now things are starting to get interesting, hahaha. Nathan is going after those ribs, he’s looking to end this thing and in the process end his friend’s career.

Douglas: If that’s what it takes for Nathan to win this match he’ll do it. That’s how important it is for both of these men to come out of this truly the better man.

Orlando is lying on his back, holding his ribs, feeling the type of pain he inflicted on Creed’s leg, which Nathan still can’t properly walk on. Yet Nathan puts pressure on it, his pain an afterthought as he grabs Orlando around the head, rolling him to his knees. Cruze tries to fight back with a right to Nathan’s ribs only to receive a boot to the face. Orlando is almost knocked unconscious from the force of the strike, which echoes throughout the arena and causes several gasps from the fans, yet he remains on his knees. Nathan grabs him by the hair, what little there is, and forces Cruze to his feet, dragging him towards the ring. The Icon is pushed onto the apron, but he wraps his arms around the bottom rope, keeping from being rolled inside, realizing if he’s not inside the ring he can’t be pinned or forced to submit. Nathan drives forearms over his upper back repeatedly, trying to break his grasp on the ropes before he climbs up onto the apron in front of him. He stomps Orlando to the back of the head repeatedly and then reaches down, grabbing him around the jaw. Creed pulls Orlando to his feet, finally forcing him to break his grasp on the ropes and then drills him to the jaw with a right hand. The Icon is almost knocked from the apron before Nathan steps in for another right. Suddenly Cruze reaches out, shooting his arm across Nathan’s chest, setting up for a Rock Bottom on the apron that causes the crowd to start screaming. But Nathan back elbows him to the head then turns, delicately balancing himself on the apron long enough to take Cruze under his arm, lifting him into the air then dropping him with a side buster right onto the apron. Everyone watches on in shock as Orlando’s body hits the apron with brutal force, leaving him yelling and cursing all at once. His previously damaged ribs may have been shattered as Nathan gets up, placing his hands to his side and shoving him into the ring under the ropes. Nathan slides in himself, quickly crawling into the cover.

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Somehow Orlando gets his shoulder up in time, leaving many of the fans shocked, as is Nathan who rises to his knees, lifting three fingers up in the official’s face. He then rises to his feet, shaking his leg beneath him while he holds his battered leg. He then delivers a quick leg drop across Orlando’s throat for good measure.

Douglas: Nathan is wearing down, slowly methodically breaking apart Orlando in this match now.

Mayne: After that side buster on the apron, I don’t think there’s going to be much left of Orlando to muster up a challenge against this vicious onslaught being inflicted on him. See, my comments can be just as cliche as your own, Dan.

Dan: I wasn’t aware it was a competition, but if it is, you defeated me long ago in the battle of cliches.

The Future gets to his feet and slowly slides his hands around Orlando’s head, beginning to roll him to his knees while shaking off the damage done to his leg. As soon as Orlando gets to a kneeling base, Creed steps in, delivering a blistering knife edge chop right across his sternum. The force of which almost takes the Icon from a kneeling base, yet he keeps them planted beneath him on the canvas, trying to fire himself up. Before he can, Nathan steps in and hits another chop with such force it takes him down to his back, Orlando completely laid out now, barely able to move. His entire body is aching from head to toe, drenched in his own sweat, while he tries desperately to force himself up to his seat. Instead of doing so though, Nathan steps in, delivering a quick elbow right to his mid-section, the point connecting straight with the bandaged ribs of the Icon. Orlando reaches for his mid-section in pain, rolling away from Nathan onto his side while clinching his eyes together. In this position, Nathan steps up behind him, placing his hands to Cruze’s shoulder and his hip, lifting his knee up high into the air. He brings it down with force right into Orlando’s spine, again creating much grief for the former three time World Champion. Nathan pushes his lower body up into the air and again swings it down knee first directly into the lower kidney area of the Icon. The collision causes Orlando to roll across the ring shouting in pain.

The agony that courses through Orlando’s frame seems to motivate Nathan as he rises to his knees and grabs the Icon around the jaw. He pulls him up to his feet and then slaps on a front gantry before snapping over backwards, delivering a quick vertical suplex. Orlando’s body is driven hard into the canvas before Creed floats over quickly into the cover, hooking Cruze’s leg.

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Somehow Orlando is able to muster the strength to shoot his shoulder from the canvas, turning away from Nathan who stands up behind him and delivers a quick kick to his lower back, stomping away at it viciously. He then drags Orlando up to his feet, burying his shoulder into his gut before charging him across the ring, driving the Icon hard spine first directly into the turnbuckle with great force. Orlando’s arms fall over the ropes, leaning against it for support while his frame welts with agony. Nathan standing up as he delivers a hard forearm shiver right to the side of his face, Orlando almost knocked to his posterior from the impact. He is out of breath, almost completely out of everything else while Nathan steps backwards across the ring. He then charges in, preparing for another shoulder block into Cruze’s gut before Orlando launches his foot into the air, driving it right into Nathan’s face. Creed is knocked backwards into a stagger, grabbing at his face before he charges forward once more only for Orlando to step out of the corner and deliver a stiff Eurpean uppercut right to the jaw of the Future. Again the former Livewire Champion is staggered, almost losing his balance while walking backwards away from Orlando who drags himself up onto the turnbuckle backwards. He gets to his feet on the middle cable, watching Creed quickly, waiting for the perfect time to jump off before he dives through the air, interlocking his hands for a double axehandle. Before he can connect though Nathan reaches out, catching him around the waist then dropping backwards into a huge belly to belly suplex. Orlando is flipped over, slamming into the ring hard across his back before he sits up, grinding his teeth against one another while arching his spine.

Mayne: Nathan quickly shutting down whatever Orlando just intended to hit out of that corner by delivering a huge belly to belly suplex. He really is dominating this thing and in the process, unleashing a lot of pint up frustrations on the Icon.

Douglas: Your right, Nathan isn’t looking at Orlando as a friend anymore, he’s seeing him as a bitter enemy, which is allowing him to have no remorse in everyone of his actions in this intense, hard hitting contest thus far.

To some disbelief from the crowd Creed has begun to roll to his knees again, standing up slowly before Nathan steps in, wrapping his arms around his waist then dropping back into another huge belly to belly suplex. Cruze is flipped over, sending him crashing hard into the canvas before he drops onto his side, placing the back of his fist to his lower spine. He is gasping for air thanks to the pain coursing through his back before Nathan steps in quickly. He drops down behind Orlando, grabbing him by the tape around his waist to sit him up before locking his legs around his waist. The crowd has a mixed reaction at the sight of Nathan applying the leg scissors, blocking the pain from that previously targeted knee to apply as much pressure as he can on the submission. Orlando digs his finger nails into his palms, refusing to tap out, trying to do exactly as Nathan is and block the pain coursing through his frame. The official steps in, Wright inquiring as to rather he wishes to tap out or not only for Cruze to shout no in between gripes of pain. As Orlando shouts this in further aggravates Creed, forcing him to put further into the submission with his thick legs. Orlando bites into his lower lip, stomping the back of his heel against the canvas and thus causing the crowd to rise, rallying behind him. They too stomp their feet and slap the barricades, trying to motivate Cruze, attempting to motivate him to stand up and get out of this submission. Nathan turns with his body suddenly, dropping onto his side, pulling Cruze over onto the back of his shoulders while keeping the body scissors applied.

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Orlando gets his shoulder off the ring, sitting up once again with Nathan doing the same behind him. He scoots around so that he is seated right behind Orlando’s back before he rolls over once again. This time the front of Creed’s ankles are placed under Orlando’s armpits, dragging him over upside down so that he is on top of his shoulder and the back of his head, Nathan pushing himself up with his palms to perfect this pinning predicament. Hoping he wore Orlando down enough to get the victory.

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Orlando kicks out somehow, getting his shoulder off the canvas in time, while falling over onto his seat once more. That’s when Nathan turns around, quickly crawling up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. He’s now trying to squeeze the life out of Cruze’s body with a reverse bearhug. Instead of tapping out though, even if Orlando would like to do so, he just again bites his lips and tries to fight through this. With the crowd rallying behind him, Orlando starts to rise slowly to his feet, forcing his way upwards with Nathan pushing himself up behind him. He is really applying all the pressure he can with his brute strength, yet Orlando won’t tap out, he refuses to do so, much like the Future earlier in this contest. He does everything to fight the idea of the pain from his mind while getting to a standing base, finally putting his feet down beneath him. Creed stands up suddenly, trying to snap over backwards into a German now that he’s got that reverse waist lock applied from a standing position. Just then Orlando back elbows him right to the side of his face before connecting with another shot, attempting to escape this to the best of his abilities. Nathan ducks to avoid another back elbow, burying his shoulder into Cruze’s spine and then lifting him into the air, setting up for a back drop suplex. Somehow Cruze is able to fight it though and float over, landing gracefully on his feet while Nathan spins around right into a big boot to the face. But no, Creed moves his head at the last second, catching Orlando’s leg over his shoulder and reaching out, wrapping his arms around the Icon’s upper back. Nathan drops back into the capture suplex, flipping Orlando over so that he slams hard right into the canvas.

Dan: Once again right as Orlando starts to mount some kind of comeback, Nathan is right there to shut it down again.

Mayne: Dan, I don’t think you can possibly begin to understand just what type of shape Orlando’s back is in right now. His spine could be broken in fact, there could even be internal bleeding going on right now.

Douglas: Um, I think I’d know better than you would Billy, just how Orlando is feeling right now, after all, I am a former wrestler myself.

Billy: Yeah, but you were never a very good one.

Orlando is spread across his back, barely moving while Creed turns and crawls quickly into the cover, dropping down as he buries his forearm into his friend’s face.

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That’s when Orlando kicks out yet again, showing his resilience by forcing his shoulder from the ring in the nick of time. But perhaps it would have been better to just allow himself to be pinned. Creed grabs hold of his wrist, standing up beside Orlando then dropping down knee first right into his ribs with great force. Again Orlando shouts out loudly, reaching for his mid-section while Nathan keeps hold of his wrist, standing up then delivering another knee drop right to his ribs. The pain coursing through Orlando’s body is indescribable as Nathan maintains a grasp on his wrist, using it to drag him up to his feet then steps to his side, wrapping his arms around his waist. Nathan drops back, flipping Orlando over with a huge side suplex that slams him down with incredible force right into the ring. But Nathan doesn’t allow that to be the end of it, stepping right towards Orlando as he pushes him over onto his stomach with his foot. He then places his feet right on the back of both Orlando’s knees, reaching down and grabbing his ankles. He wraps them around the front of his shins then reaches out, grasping hold of both Orlando’s wrists while looking around at the fans. He begins to rock himself back and forth slowly before falling over in reverse right onto his spine, lifting Cruze up into the air with a Mexican surboard stretch. The fans are again having a loud mixed reaction as Orlando is elevated in the air in this submission hold, his mid-section being stretched out by it. He drags down on the wrists even further in order to reach up with his arm though, wrapping it around Orlando’s neck, pulling down on it as he places him in a dragon sleeper from the Mexican surfboard position. Everyone in the arena is squeamish, groaning at the sight of the way Orlando’s body is being twisted and stretched in this submission, but he still refuses to tap out. He just digs his claws into his palms and shouts at the top of his lungs.

Fighting with every ounce of his being, Orlando is forced to stick his hands out and in reverse, placing his fingers into the eyes of Creed, raking at them. Nathan is forced to break the submission as a result, allowing Cruze to drop over onto his chest and stomach beside him, reaching for his spine in a great deal of pain. An angry Creed rises to his feet, charges into the ropes, bounces off then comes back in, dropping a quick elbow directly into his bandaged lower back. Orlando buries his elbows into the canvas, pushing himself up and writhing in anguish once again while Nathan rises to his feet. He begins to shake out his leg once more, that little jog causing him some pain.

Douglas: Once the submission doesn’t work, Nathan goes right back to work on his mid-section. This is brilliant strategy.

Mayne: Um, it’s kind of an oxymoron to use the terms of brilliant and Nathan Creed in the same sentence, hahahahahahahaha. Ohhh, I bring myself such joy with my one liners.

A very sluggish, exasperated, and tired Nathan rises to his feet and grabs Orlando by the wrist once more, dragging him up to his feet. He then turns to stare at the corner behind his back, whipping Orlando straight at the turnbuckle with as much force as he can. Orlando charges into it and bashes hard sternum and ribs first against the corner, bouncing off and staggering backwards into Nathan who steps forward, burying his shoulder into Cruze’s spine. He now lifts him into the air and sits Orlando right on the top rope before beginning to deliver repeated forearm strikes over his back. Orlando is almost taken down off the corner while Creed begins to climb up the turnbuckle behind him, still delivering hard forearm strikes directly over his spine. Sweat flies from the bandaged mid-section of Orlando, who is shaking his head, grinding his teeth and trying to fight through this onslaught being inflicted on him. Nathan quickly steps up to the top rope now with his shoulder still pinned against Orlando’s shoulder before standing him up then taking a look out over the screaming fans. Nathan drops off the turnbuckle and flies through the air, pulling Orlando with him right into a huge back drop superplex. Cruze crashes with devastating force against the ring, bouncing off of it then flipping over backwards onto his chest and stomach. He appears completely taken out of it now, but Nathan is also exhausted as well as battered from that last move.

Douglas: A huge high angle back drop from the top rope, Orlando may have just been killed by that move, not hurt, but killed!

Mayne: We can only hope, now can’t we. One things for sure though, Orlando is done, he’s finished, he’s got nothing left. Nathan has got the win right here and right now after dominating this match for so long.

Dan: You might not be far off the mark with that comment.

A very tired, heavily winded Creed gets to all fours then quickly climbs into the cover, Orlando having turned onto his back as Nathan hooks his leg in desperation.

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Again Orlando launches his arm off the canvas and kicks out with what little energy he has remaining. Creed rises to his knees, stunned that he didn’t get the pinfall, again, his face twisted with anger and frustration. He rises to his feet in a sluggish manner, reaching for his knee in pain before turning his head towards the opposite turnbuckle, reaching down and grabbing Orlando around the neck. Cruze can barely be pulled up though, Nathan struggling to get him to his feet. With sweat spilling from both their exhausted, wrecked frames, Nathan is fighting to get him up to his feet. He finally gets him to a standing base as Orlando falls into him, Creed burying his shoulder into his spine then lifting him into the air. The exhausted Creed steps towards the turnbuckle, sitting Orlando on the top rope then blasting him over the back with a hard forearm strike, again sending sweat flying through the air, dissipating in the process. In a very slow, methodical manner Creed now begins to climb up the turnbuckle behind him, again burying his shoulder into his spine. He is preparing for a second big back drop superplex when Orlando delivers a hard elbow to the side of his face. Another strike connects with Creed’s noggin, yet he won’t be taken down as Orlando starts to rise to turn around on the corner. To the shock of everyone, Orlando delivers a hard European Uppercut while seated on the turnbuckle and twisting his body to do so. Creed is sent flying off the turnbuckle, crashing hard into the ring across his back then flipping over onto his knees. He has his hand over his lower back while trying his best to reach a standing base.

Orlando is turning around on the turnbuckle now, but almost loses his footing while Creed starts to stand up in the ring. Just then Nathan charges forward, stepping up the turnbuckle and wrapping his arms around Orlando’s waist, trying to go for the top rope belly to belly suplex. Before he can hit it though, Orlando headbunts him right to the skull, knocking Creed off the turnbuckle once again. Creed is launched out of the corner, hitting the ring again across his back before rolling across it. He gets to all fours, shaking his head in pain while starting to stand up. He gets his feet beneath him before starting to charge at the turnbuckle once more only for Orlando to come flying off, connecting with a huge missile dropkick right to his sternum. Nathan is knocked down hard to the ring while the Icon rolls away from him, everyone in the arena standing as they scream on the move they just witnessed.

Mayne: Orlando somehow scores with the Missile dropkick, why must this man only break this move out in big match environments?

Douglas: Because that’s usually when the time calls for it, and it’s got Orlando back in this contest, giving him a fighting chance.

The tired, sluggish Cruze rises to his feet while Nathan starts to get up in front of him, stumbling to his feet. Suddenly Cruze plants himself and places his hands on his knees, blocking the pain coursing through his mid-section as he prepares to connect with the Rock Bottom. He’s setting up for it now that he’s given this brief chance while Nathan gets to his feet finally then turns to face Orlando who steps forward, thrusting his arm over his shoulder. That’s before Nathan delivers a hard knee right to his gut, causing Orlando to double over, breaking away from the Rock Bottom position before he staggers forward. Nathan turns around, grabbing him by the shoulder then pulling him over backwards into a bridging position before wrapping his arm around his neck. Creed swings around with his arm, going for a version of the Total Domination before Cruze spins around, wrapping his arms around Nathan’s waist, reversing it into a German suplex. The crowd goes nuts as Orlando hits the move with force on Nathan then rolls over onto his knees, keeping his arms wrapped around Creed’s waist. He is going for a move Nathan is known to deliver as both men get to their feet, Cruze snapping over backwards into another huge German suplex. Nathan hits the ring hard across the back of his neck while Orlando winces in pain, rolling to his knees and pulling Creed with him. Both men get to their feet with Orlando still holding him in the reverse waist lock. He goes to lift the almost unconscious Creed into the air for another German before Nathan blocks it by locking his leg around Orlando’s. He then performs a quick standing switch, getting behind Cruze. He wraps his arms around his waist then drops backwards, hitting a huge German suplex of his own on the Icon. He rolls over backwards, over the spine of Orlando then lands on his feet right behind him, pulling Cruze with him onto his knees in front of him. Instead of going for another German, Creed hooks his arm and seems to be going for a half nelson suplex as he drags Orlando to his feet, hoisting him into the air for the move. Orlando twists his body in mid-air though, swinging around free from this position then landing on his feet right behind Creed. Nathan spins around in shock before Orlando charges forward, getting caught across the chest though then hoisted into the air. The crowd screams as Nathan delivers the Rock Bottom on Orlando, driving him with force right down to the canvas.

Mayne: The Rock Bottom by Nathan out of nowhere!

Douglas: Creed’s got it, Creed’s got it with that last move!

Nathan crawls into the cover, hooking the leg desperately.

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3!

Just then Orlando shoots his shoulder from the canvas, everyone going nuts as Cruze kicks out at the last second.

Douglas: He kicked out, Orlando kicked out of the Rock Bottom!!

Mayne: I don’t believe this, how in the world is that even possible? Next thing you know puppies will be rained down from the heavens, kittens will start popping out of the fans’ assess, and Dan will have something clever to say.

The crowd is still screaming while Nathan gets to his knees, slapping the canvas with both hands, becoming irate. He glares at the official then transfers his anger to Orlando who is surprisingly trying to get up. He barely has the strength to get up though as Nathan steps away from him, catching his breath, trying to develop some more strategy. Just as Orlando gets up he turns towards Creed who steps in, chopping him hard across the chest with great force. The impact knocks Cruze down to the canvas before he rolls onto his knees then pops right back up to his feet, everyone going nuts as Orlando begins to slap his chest with both hands.

Orlando: IS THAT ALL YOU FUCKING GOT!?!

Nathan steps in and chops him again hard to the sternum, knocking Orlando down to the ring once again. To the shock of everyone he pops right back to his feet though, his eyes wide with anger and passion, slapping his chest again. He then steps forward, delivering a knife edge to Nathan’s sternum. The shocked Creed is knocked back before he steps forward, delivering another knife edge chop, followed by a second. Cruze is staggered but responds with his own knife edge chop, the crowd cheering, everyone getting up, going nuts before Creed steps in, connecting with another strike. Orlando and Creed are stumbled by each blow before Nathan delivers a chop so devastating it take a tree down, yet Orlando is still standing. He lets out a fearsome roar before Nathan chops him again to the chest, Cruze finally feeling the effects, almost falling to the canvas. Creed steps back, lifting his hand into the air then spitting into his palm before he charges in with another chop. Right as he throws it, Orlando bends forward, catching him around the legs and lifting them into the air. Nathan falls onto his back before Orlando pushes him over onto his chest and stomach, stepping over his spine as he locks him in the Courtesy Call. Again the fans are unleashing a thunderous ovation while Nathan pushes himself up onto his elbows, roaring at the top of his lungs, shaking his head as Orlando really leans back into the submission. Nathan forces himself up onto his forearms, shaking his head as sweat flies in all different directions.

Douglas: Orlando has got the Courtesy Call locked in on Creed, that’s Nathan own finishing submission!

Mayne: After the damage done to Nathan’s leg earlier in this match, there should be no way to escape this one.

Nathan looks ready to scream “I Quit” but relents, still trying to fight his way through this submission that is draining every bit of strength from his frame. The referee implores him to tap out but Creed shouts no once again, finally mustering up the strength to do so. He refuses to tap out to his own submission even as Orlando sits down on his lower back, really twisting up the legs he worked on earlier in the process. Just as determined as Nathan is to escape his hold, Orlando’s just as focused on forcing him to tap to it. Every fan is standing, screaming while Creed buries his elbows against the canvas, desperately dragging himself towards the ropes, pulling Orlando along with him. Orlando’s face is twisting as is Nathan’s as both men try their best to score the win and evade it as well all in this one hold. The crowd is slapping the barricades and stomping their feet before finally Nathan reaches the ropes, extending his hand and grabbing the bottom cable, the fans reacting with shock at the sight of this, Nathan barely escaping his own submission hold. The official steps in and starts a five count, reaching four before Orlando breaks the hold, thrusting Nathan’s legs down to the canvas then falling forward to the ring. He lands on all fours, gasping heavily, trying to get some air back into his lungs before he rises to his feet, sweat glistening across his tired, aching body.

Douglas: Nathan escaped the Courtesy Call, my God what is it going to take to put one of these two away?

Mayne: Death? Piranhas? Electrocution? The smite of God? They’ve tried everything else, it’s time to start thinking outside the box.

Creed drags himself with desperation up the ropes, his legs killing him while he rises just as Orlando steps up behind him, delivering a clubbing blow right over his back. This causes Nathan to yell out at in anguish before he’s drilled over the spine again with another clubbing shot then spun around. Orlando bends forward, burying his shoulders into Nathan’s gut then lifting him up into the air before turning towards the turnbuckle, beginning to step towards it. The pain in his mid-section causes him to almost fall over, yet he keeps standing as he turns and places Nathan posterior first against the top rope, sitting him on the turnbuckle. Orlando steps back then delivers a hard upward knife edge chop right across Creed’s already blood red and bruised chest. He can’t muster up a fight but Orlando wants to make sure he’s completely prone as he climbs up the turnbuckle. He now thrusts his arm across Creed’s chest and points over his back to the inside of the ring, looking ready to deliver the In Control, or the top rope twisting Rock Bottom. He is about to pull him off and to the canvas when Creed begins to slug Orlando to the side of his bandaged ribs repeatedly, beginning to break up the shot, attempting to fight out of the Rock Bottom position. Eventually it works, Orlando being doubled over as Nathan reaches down, wrapping his arms around his mid-section while standing up on the second rope, everyone staring to scream.

Douglas: Oh no, thank about what your doing here Nathan, don’t do this, don’t do this...

Nathan no longer hesitates as he grunts and lifts Orlando into the air, twisting him around and jumping off the turnbuckle as he connects with a super sit-down gutwrench powerbomb. Everyone stands up, screaming their heads off and grasping their hair in shock as both Nathan and Orlando sit on the canvas, Cruze completely laid out by the powerbomb with Nathan leaning shoulders first into the back of his legs.

Mayne: OH MY GOOOOOD!!

Douglas: Nathan with a gutwrench powerbomb off the turnbuckle, I didn’t think he’d go that far to get the victory!

The fans are still screaming as the official makes the count, some of the crowd chanting along, realizing this is it.

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Everyone explodes into cheers as Orlando defiantly shoots his shoulder off the ring, Nathan dropping onto his back in completely and utter astonishment. There is not one occupied seat in the building, everyone standing up, cheering, going absolutely nuts over the fact that Orlando just kicked out of that gut wrench powerbomb off the turnbuckle. Nathan gets to his knees, grabbing the official by the shirt and sticking three fingers up in his face, pleading with him to say that he got the victory. Official Wright keeps reaffirming the fact that he only got a two count though.

Dan: Somehow, don’t ask me how, Orlando got his shoulder up. This is the damndest match I’ve ever called, Billy.

Mayne: This is amazing, even with injured ribs Orlando was able to kick out of a gutwrench powerbomb off the turnbuckle. This guy must be on horse tranquilizers or PCP or meth or something to keep going even after all this!

The fans are standing and clapping while a sweaty Creed uses the ropes to pull himself to his feet, shaking his leg under him, terrible damage having been done to it throughout this incredible singles match. He turns around slowly to face Orlando who by sheer adrenaline alone is rolling to his elbows and knees, desperately trying to get up. Just as he begins to do so though, Nathan steps in and grabs him by the shoulder, spinning him around. Creed now heaves Orlando up into the air and onto his shoulder, setting up for the Total Domination perhaps before Cruze slips off. He slides down his shoulder and lands right on his feet behind Nathan. To Creed’s surprise, the man he thought was on his last legs shoves him with force forward into the cables, Nathan turning and bouncing from them. He comes charging back in when Cruze bends forward, catching him across the chest, setting up for the Rock Bottom once again. He lifts him up into the air when Nathan turns his body, reaching back with his legs and wrapping them around Orlando’s waist, falling towards the canvas and rolling Cruze up with him. Orlando ends up on the back of his shoulders with Nathan seated on his chest, holding down the back of his knees as the crowd again screams.

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No, Orlando pushes himself up into a backwards roll, forcing Nathan over onto his own shoulders with Orlando now seated on his chest, holding down his legs for the pin. Before the official can slap the canvas, Orlando stands up and switches around in front of Nathan’s legs, stepping through them and then pulling him over onto his chest as he applies the sharpshooter. Nathan squeezes his fingers into his palms and yells in tremendous pain as Orlando sits back on the submission, really torquing Creed’s spine and his legs both at once.

Douglas: Orlando with the sharpshooter!!

Mayne: He’s going right back to work on those legs, and this time around I don’t think there’s anything that Nathan can do about it.

Every fan in attendance is standing up, some chanting “please don’t tap,” others praying that’s exactly what Creed does. Nathan seems intent not to give up but the pain is just too much as Orlando sits back even further, tears of agony about to rush down both men’s faces. Creed digs his fingers into the ring, clawing his way across the canvas towards the ropes which seem so very far away. They are just a few feet more, just a few inches from salvation with the crowd watching on intently. Nathan’s hand extends for the bottom rope before Orlando steps forward across the ring, dragging Creed back to the center of the squared circle before sitting down again. Nathan has no other alternative now, his leg in too bad of shape as he lifts his hand and slaps the canvas, tapping out to a thunderous wave of cheers, boos, and shock from the amassed crowd in the Manhattan Center. Orlando breaks the sharpshooter immediately and falls to his knees, the effects of this match finally setting in upon him.

Douglas: Orlando has done it, he’s overcome the odds tonight in what was perhaps the greatest one on one match I’ve ever seen. Just when it looked like he was finished, he was able to come back and force Nathan to finally submit to that sharpshooter. Boy what a match.

Mayne: Like it or not, IWC on pay-per-view always delivers, and that’s exactly what this match just did. What a performance, what a battle between Orlando and Creed. I’m shocked to hear myself say those words.

The crowd is giving what they just saw a standing ovation, everyone putting their hands together while Creed rolls onto his back, placing his hand over his knee. His other hand covers his face, unable to believe he was forced to tap out, but strangely not feeling any shame as a result. Orlando rises to his feet as the official takes him by the hand, leading him to a standing base. Cruze can barely keep his feet beneath him, forced to use Wright as a crutch while Nathan starts to rise as well. Although he was at the point of passing out from the pain he now finds some new energy as he gets to a standing base, reaching for his knee in agony. He turns towards Orlando, looking into his eyes as the Icon spins around to face him. Both men have a somewhat tense stare-down before Creed limps forward and embraces Orlando, both men giving one another a hug in the center of the ring. Nathan then steps to Orlando’s side, lifting his arm up into the air in victory with the crowd all screaming as loud as they can.

Dan: And to top off a sensational match, we get a showing of respect between these two phenomenal athletes.

Mayne: Okay, this is nice, now take his head off Creed, slap on the Courtesy Call, no one will blame you.

Dan: Shut up Billy, Nathan knows when he was beaten by the better man. Both these individuals put their hearts and souls into this match, they laid it all down on the line, but tonight it was Orlando who emerged victorious, and Nathan doesn’t seem bitter about that at all. Unlike you Billy, both these men actually seem to have some class.

The crowd is still giving them a standing ovation as Creed and Orlando stand side by side, arms raised aloft in victory.

Dan: What an outing, what a performance from both these phenomenal athletes. And yet we’ve still got more to come here tonight as we’re scheduled for the main event up next.

Mayne: A match that I hope ends a little better than this, with something that’s actually intriguing. There can be nothing more intriguing mind you than watching the Alpha Generation finally crush the IWC roster in tag team warfare.

Douglas: I hate to rain on your parade Billy, but I just don’t think that’s going to transpire here tonight. We’ll see how this war turns out in just a few moments though, right after we go through the history that has led to what should be an epic battle.

THE DRUMS OF WAR

A pitch black background takes up the screen with some ominous sounding tunes playing amongst the shadows before a flag can be seen blowing in the wind. As the flag flaps and ripples due to the breeze it expands to overtake the shadows, revealing the letters “IWC” stitched across the dark surface. Faded images appear in the flag, bearing the faces of team IWC. Jon Rich is shown standing in the ring with the No Holds Barred Title held above his head, before cutting to Chapel slowly turning towards the camera lens with a very strange glint in his eyes. The next faded image showcases AWOL marching towards the ring before stopping and shouting for the fans to get off their assess. Finally the hazy, faded scenes captured within the flag end with a close up of Psycho’s features, the camera zooming in on his twisted, deranged eyes. The intense vocals of AWOL can be heard chiming in the background over the sound of the music..

AWOL: ...so we arrive where we are today. There are three people on my team who want to fight to save their company, and then there’s me who is just really tired of you fucking ass wipes undermining my authority and wants to establish a strong precedent with the rest of the roster that, when you mess with the general manager, unlike the other cardboard cutouts who had this job before me, there WILL be consequences.

Sporadically chosen and placed scenes feature Desolation and Hurse planting their own flag at the end of the entry way while chuckling to themselves. Another scene showcases Jackson Adams slamming a steel chair over the spine of AWOL in slow motion before he turns around and almost eats that same weapon as it’s driven into his face. This scene is shown again from several different angles. Too Magnificent takes up the screen while he bashes a trash can with violent impact right over the skull of Psycho, knocking him down to the canvas. The smiling faces of the Alpha Generation highlighted with a reddish gold hue stare down into the camera, their chests heaving with laughter over their actions. Including shots of Jackson Adams bashing a flagpost right into the face of Jon Rich, and Desolation hitting the Curb Stomp on a Psycho. That’s before the feed cuts to AWOL being thrown off a stage and sent plummeting through tables below as electrical equipment explodes beneath his hefty frame. The final image reveals Hurse being helped out of a steel cage a bloodied mess but holding up the World Heavyweight title as he and Desolation celebrate side by side.

The images change abruptly and cut now to AWOL walking to the ring with a focused expression on his face. The highlights of the AG’s path of destruction have ended and are instead replaced with shots of the whole IWC roster convened around the ring with the General Manager located in the center of which, a microphone gripped in his hand. Again his voice can be heard in the background, even if it isn’t in conjunction with his physical movements, the camera instead following the eyes of all those gathered around the ring.

AWOL: I know, judging by last week that just like myself, these men and women standing on the apron are not going to tolerate being pushed around by a power hungry group like the Alpha Generation.

More scenes are displayed of the Alpha Generation assaulting undeserving individuals, such as Desolation hitting Psycho between the eyes with a 2x4 wrapped in barbwire, costing him his match against Hurse for the World Heavyweight title. As well as Jackson Adams delivering the Double Take on his own tag team partner for the evening in Nathan Creed. But it then flashes to the IWC roster standing up and assaulting the Alpha Generation in the ring, a brawl commencing between them.

AWOL: They think that simply because the new owner has chosen to remain silent, that it gives them the right to run this whole company right out of business. But they forget, I earned the right to be the General Manager of the ULW, and I’ll be damned if that role is taken away from me simply because the name of the company has changed. Just like all of you around me, I put every ounce of my being into the survival of this federation, and I will not allow my sacrifices to be trivialized, I will stand up to the Alpha Generation to stop them at all cost! To stop them before they can seize control of this federation, play with all your lives, and ultimately run the whole company out of business.

More images play across the screen, featuring the bloodied face of Aurora Rose screaming out in pain, as well as images of Jon Rich perched on his posterior with a far off glint in his eyes, his hair being captured between the fingers of an angry Desolation, who holds him in this position. Another scene depicts Roxas Knoxx and Jon Rich located in the ring, standing by side with confused expressions on their faces while Jackson Adams backs up the ramp, glaring into the ring while clutching at a microphone.

Adams: Your both fired!

A look of pain and dismay fills both their faces while their heads hang in sadness. That image is replaced by a shot of Desolation shaking hands with Pat Evans, then cutting to the dangerous submission based expert wearing out the ankle of Chapel with a steel chair.

AWOL: It’s time we took them to war! We’re going to smoke them out of their holes, and we’re going to meet them on the mother fucking battlefield! We’re going to stop them before they ruin this company, before they take your future’s away from you. My choice of battlefields will be this ring.

The roster is finally displayed fighting back against the Alpha Generation offensive. Images depicting Psycho giving Desolation a DDT on top of a casket, as well as Jon Rich standing up to the entire Alpha Generation quartet flash across the screen in tie with the music that sounds a bit more heroic. Both Desolation and Hurse are shown celebrating in the ring before with a bright eruption of flame from the stage, the Holy War emerge from behind the curtain, Chapel and AWOL making their way to the ring. The War Angel is shown giving Too Magnificent a hard big boot right to the face.

Hurse: The problem is, we’ve just been misunderstood....

That same black background materializes on screen before a flag caught in a gentle but forceful breeze begins to form across the shadowy surface. The words “Alpha Generation” are written across it in bold, imposing lettering. Again faded, almost distorted images begin to form in the center of the flag, such as the face of Jackson Adams while he turns in a cocky expression on his features to overlook the booing fans. The World Heavyweight Championship is in the forefront of the camera before zooming out to reveal Hurse’s contorted, intense face staring down into the lens, snarling almost in the process. Too Magnificent is shown flying in slow motion from a turnbuckle with a beautiful extension of his leg into the Arrogance is Bliss, doing so in slow motion. Finally Desolation takes up the center of the flag, standing amongst the booing crowd, many of them gesturing with middle fingers at his uncaring, repulsed face.

Desolation: What we’ve done is for the fans of the IWC, but they just don’t seem to understand that. We’ve been vilified by a cruel oppressor, a dastardly tyrant that must be overthrown for the betterment of this whole organization.

A terrified Hurse moves down the ramp, timidly looking at a steel cage with fear in his eyes. It cuts abruptly to Too Magnificent running away with AWOL in a golf cart, swinging a chainsaw around in one hand as he chases after him. The feed again switches, this time displaying AWOL putting Jackson Adams in a rear naked choke and dragging him over a barricade. This leads into the next shot at the Rumble Bash as Jackson is protesting in the ring only to be thrown over the top rope from behind by Jon Rich. Again the images move in slow motion to add emphasis to Adams’ elimination.

Hurse: We’ve been amused and mistreated for standing up for the principles we know to be right.

An exhausted Desolation stands victorious after a casket match, doubled over in pain before he looks up to see Chapel coming straight for him, immediately beginning to assault him. Now the bloodied face of Too Magnificent is featured while he winces in pain. Chapel and AWOL replace the last image as they drive railroad spikes into both Desolation and Hurse’s features. Jon Rich rolls up Jackson Adams and scores a shock victory, with the speed of the count being increased through video magic to make it look like he was cheated.

Desolation: If it’s a war the roster desires, that’s what we’ll give them. On behalf of you, the fans.

Jackson Adams takes up the screen, slamming a steel chair violently over the hand of Rich. It then cuts to AWOL and Chapel assaulting Desolation and Hurse. The War Angel even goes as far as to slam a chair over the back of the World Champion’s spine, causing him to yell at the top of his lungs while tumbling to his knees. Jon Rich is shown whipping Adams into the barricade, causing him to slam hard against it spine first. The feed then proceeds to feature Psycho hitting the Psychotic Episode on Hurse, flipping him over in reverse before flashing to Too Magnificent assaulting the War Angel with a big boot of his own while Desolation was hoisted on the Livewire Champion’s shoulders. This is before Psycho takes up the screen, spraying a fire extinguisher into the eyes of Too Mag while standing up inside of a casket. The music in the background continues to build up and develop. It flashes to the faces of Jon Rich, AWOL, Psycho, and Too Magnificent all standing side by side with a black background, the quartet staring forward intensely as the camera scans over their faces.

Rich: At Born Again, you will see the final stand of the Alpha Generation.

Jackson: Born Again will see a Spectacular Ending after Alpha Gen finally destroys the cancer and all the ill fated attempts to take over our show..

Jackson is shown standing arrogantly on the stage with his arms extended out to his sides a big grin on his face. It then flashes to Jon shouting while thrusting both his thumbs towards his chest, frantically moving around the ring with the N.H.B title over his shoulder. Again AWOL is shown chasing Too Magnificent in a golf cart, swinging a chainsaw wildly at his side.

Psycho: For too long the Alpha Generation has tried to take over the reigns of MY Company. I am IWC. And I will not be controlled.

Too Magnificent: The Alpha Generation will dominate and destroy anyone who steps between us and our goals.

The twisted features of a deformed Psycho come into view as he stands over Hurse and slugs him repeatedly to the face with closed fists, deeply enjoying himself throughout the process. Numerous incidents in which Too Magnificent brought his trusty trash can down over the heads of various opponents cuts through the video package now as he takes deep satisfaction in bringing others pain. World Champion Hurse and Desolation are shown hoisted on the shoulders of Jackson, Mills, Devin Hawk, and Too Magnificent, all of them celebrating outside of the Weapon’s Lair at Paranoia IV.

Chapel: The time for talk is over, there will be no more parley, only war.

Chapel spikes Desolation right between the eyes before AWOL is shown knocking Jackson out with a big boot right to the face. Too Magnificent swings a 2x4 wrapped in barbwire at the roster while Desolation and Adams throw AWOL off the stage, sending him crashing through tables and electrical equipment below. It then switches to both Chapel and AWOL marching down the ramp side by side with furious expressions on their faces.

Hurse: It ends tonight...

Rich: At Born Again we settle this once and for all...

AWOL: One team will stand and another will meet it’s demise...

Adams: It ends at Born Again....

Desolation: It’s over, because we will finish it..

Psycho: When all is said and done, IWC will survive...

Chapel: This will be the final battle, where it all ends....

Too Magnificent: The war, will be over...

AWOL spiking Hurse to the forehead, Chapel’s ankle being attacked, Adams having his body dragged over the barricade in a rear naked choke, a bloodied Rich writhing in agony, Too Magnificent slamming a trash can over Psycho’s head, Desolation being chokeslammed to the stage all cut across the scene. The faces of the Alpha Generation grinning downward into the camera, their faces highlighted by a reddish glow take up the screen before fading into team IWC standing side by side, shrouded in darkness.

Billy Mayne: Tag Team Warfare at Born Again!

Two flags, one representing the IWC, and the other representing the Alpha Generation blow side by side before bursting into flames and rotting away from the centers.

AWOL & CHAPEL & JON RICH & PSYCHO
VS.
DESOLATION & JACKSON ADAMS & HURSE & TOO MAGNIFICENT

The show comes back to the ringside area where the fans are finally seated after that terrific one on one match between Nathan Creed and Orlando Cruze, but are still in deep anticipation for the forthcoming contest.

Douglas: What a night it has been and now we’re ready, finally ready for what should be the biggest tag team match we’ve ever seen. The last time an eight man tag was in the main event slot of a ULW or IWC pay-per-view, it was back at Bloody Massacre over two years ago. But now the 8 man tag has returned, and it’s been slightly modified, no rules, no count outs, no regulations right here tonight, Billy. This is truly going to be tag team warfare

Mayne: In a moment that shall transcend this business, Dan. The Alpha Generation will stand victorious over the bloodied, broken bodies of their opponents right here tonight. It’s fate, no, it’s their destiny to have control of the IWC within their possession.

The lights in the arena start to become rather bleak and fade away into shadows, encasing the whole building in darkness. That’s when green strobes start to come to life, shooting up from the sides of the entry way, surrounding the curtains that serve as the entry way. The lights flash from all around the entry way, moving in a square like shape along the edge of the curtain while images relating to the Alpha Generation play in one of the two titontrons above. Killing In the Name Of filters through the sound speakers, enticing the fans to start booing as loudly as their lungs will allow, not having much energy left after what has been an insane night. Finally through the curtains begin to emerge the Alpha Generation in true grand fashion, led by Too Magnificent. The giant steps onto the stage with his arms lifted and his wrists crossed before he pulls them down to his sides and unleashes a primal roar. Behind him through the curtains emerges a somewhat slanted Jackson Adams who has his head tilted and a large, arrogant grin on his face as he observes the fans, pointing one out in the front row before giving them an up yours taunt with his arms. It seems to greatly amuse him provoking one of the hefty front row spectators, who rise from their seat in anger, causing him to jump back behind Too Magnificent quickly. Finally, side by side Desolation and the World Heavyweight Champion Hurse stroll through the curtains, the belt glistening over the Master of Control’s shoulder. The Dark Man sticks his arms out to his sides and smiles crudely in the directions of the booing fans. Their stereotypical applause brings him great amusement. They all four start to move down the ramp while Hurse lifts his World title high into the air, pointing in it’s direction. Green laser lightning flashes through their backs while moving towards the ring single file. When they reach the squared circle, Adams climbs one turnbuckle while Desolation scales the other. Too Magnificent and Hurse slide into the ring, and step to the ropes, stepping up onto the middle ones. All four men give cold stares to the booing, outraged fans.

Mayne: There they are Dan, the single greatest army ever assembled in the history of this rich industry. These four men have been together through thick and thin, and have kept the Alpha Generation alive for over a year, making them the longest lasting stable in ULW and IWC history, nothing will change that tonight. They will overcome the speed bump known as Team IWC, putting down all their rivals at once and finally ridding this company of AWOL as well. They will show you who truly is the dominant entity here in this company.

Douglas: There’s no doubt that they’re dominant, they’ve proven that through their wins and the fact that Hurse is even holding the World Heavyweight Championship, but I think they’re crazy if they believe they’ll walk out of here tonight victorious over a whole roster. No, not a whole roster, the handpicked best of the IWC roster.

Billy: History is chalk fool of great, legendary moments when armies that were faced with insurmountable odds rose up and overcame their much mightier oppressors. Of course, that’s not really the case here, since the Alpha Generation are the insurmountable ones... wait, did I even have a point then?

Douglas: More often than not you don’t, so I fail to see how now would be any different.

The Alpha Generation continue to scowl or smile in the direction of the fans before they all drop down to the canvas, Desolation jumping over the ropes to enter the ring fully now. The arena lights dim, the stage slowly fills with smoke, the constant banging of the drum's echoes throughout the arena shortly followed by the guitar as the song heats up and gets faster. Blood For Blood by Machine Head finally starts to kick in as the shadow lurks in the smoke, a huge ball of fire spirals up from the rampway and Psycho emerges from the smoke. A hooded sleeveless jacket covers his torso and the hood up... He walks menacingly down to the ring with an icy cold glare in his eyes. The fire now ignites all the way down the ramp as he walks down the fiery corridor towards the ring. He stops at the end of the ramp though, removing his jacket and discarding it, his intense, fiery eyes locked on the Alpha Generation in the ring. Desolation is holding the ropes open for him, insisting that he enter while Jackson Adams is jumping between feet, making punching motions in a playful manner. Psycho isn’t quite foolish to slide in though without back up while he cracks his neck back and forth.

Mayne: I don’t understand for the life of me why AWOL would pick Psycho if he was trying to build a team of the absolute best that the IWC has to offer.

Douglas: Oh don’t go down the route of questioning Psycho’s capabilities. The man has shown numerous times before what he’s indeed capable of doing if given the change and the proper motivation. And I’d say he’s pretty damn motivated considering what rests on the line in this contest. Not only the sake of the roster, but bragging rights again four men he absolutely despises and has personal issues with.

Billy: Oh, now I know why AWOL chose him, because they’re just alike, neither one can leave well enough alone. I’m so sick of these two being bitter all the time and vindictive instead of doing what’s right for the company.

Douglas: There won’t be a company if no stands up to the Alpha Generation here tonight.

Psycho glares into the ring still, now finding his eyes locked on a slowly smiling Hurse, who lifts the World title out in front of himself in a very cocky manner, the history between them needing no explanation. The screen begins flashing with the beat of "Unbreakable" by Bon Jovi. The fans jump to their feet and watch as Jon walks from the back, smile on his face and N.H.B title around his waist. He points to the fans as he steps on the stage. He stands dead center, drops to both knees, crosses his arms and lowers his head before snapping the arms outward and snapping his head back with a scream as the pyros from the screen begin to shoot off. He hops to his feet and jogs the isle, slapping the hands of the fans before stopping beside Psycho, the two immediately beginning to converse with one another. He removes his N.H.B title and hands it off to one of the many official’s gathered around the ring. Jackson Adams is now standing on the turnbuckle, shouting at Rich and spitting down at him. Jon spins around and tries to get into the ring already but Psycho places his hand to his chest, holding him back.

Dan: Jon Rich, just one of the three champions in this 8 man tag, and a top prospect here in the IWC, really being given a chance to shine here tonight. He’s definitely proven that he has what it takes to beat the Alpha Generation in the past, with several victories over Jackson Adams, as well as pushing Desolation to the limit.

Mayne: All suspect victories you might want to add. But no wins in the past matter tonight, because the pinfall at the end of this contest is the only thing that’s of importance.

Douglas: Well, at least half of what you said wasn’t bullshit, that’s better than what we usually get.

Psycho points and shouts into the direction of the World Champion, Too Magnificent, and the Dark Man who feign fright. That’s when Sun Doesn’t Rise by Mushroom head hits the PA system and two big explosions in the forms of mushroom heads rise from the sides of the stage. The fans are really becoming excited now as images on the big screen feature shots of both AWOL and Chapel dominating their opponents, holding up the tag team titles as well as other straps they won through the countless years. That’s when the curtains part and through them steps AWOL and Chapel, neither man is dressed in their ring gear, but instead are in their street clothes, as this is a come dressed as you are type of affair. They both stand side by side, staring menacingly towards the ring at the Alpha Generation who are standing united now, motioning for their opponents to enter.

Mayne: Look at these two men desperately clinging onto the past, resurrecting their pathetic little Holy War simply because they know they’re incapable of matching up with the likes of the Alpha Generation. But I can already assure them that no matter who either of them team with it’s a disaster waiting to happen. No one can defeat the combined might of the Alpha Generation, nobody.

Douglas: I think your forgetting just how dominate of a team the Holy War were. AWOL and Chapel were unstoppable as a tag team unit, and I imagine they’ll be the same right here tonight!

The GM and the Livewire Champion both glance at each other for a second then nod with sinister smirks on their faces. Chapel throws the Livewire title down off his shoulder as he and AWOL bolt towards the ring. The Alpha Generation immediately roll out and charge at their opponents, a giant brawl erupting at the end of the ramp. Psycho is exchanging shots with Too Magnificent, Chapel dives right on Hurse, blasting him repeatedly to the face with closed fists. Jon Rich and Jackson Adams are exchanging shots with one another. Just when JA seems to get the advantage with a hard strike, Rich answers right back with a stiff one of his own. AWOL and Desolation are now butting heads with one another. The GM headbunts Desolation hard enough to knock him into a backwards spiral as he falls side first against the ring, AWOL stepping in only to receive a hard kick right to the gut. He’s doubled over before Desolation grabs him by the back of the head and pushes him down face first right into the steel stairs. AWOL bashes off then stands up straight, looking as if the collision didn’t even hurt or phase him which shocks Desolation a bit. His confusion only lasts for a moment as he’s grabbed by the back of the head then driven down face first into the steps himself, bouncing off hard as a result then staggering away.

Mayne: What the hell is this? This isn’t suppose to be the way this match starts. Doesn’t any member of the IWC roster have any type of decorum, or professionalism? This is suppose to start in the ring.

Douglas: The Alpha Gen is the group that took it the outside, Billy. If you want to blame anyone for a brawl, place the blame squarely on their shoulders.

Psycho kneeds Too Magnificent to the gut now and then fires off with a hard forearm strike right across the side of his face. The impact causes him to turn away in a dazed state before he’s grabbed by the back of the head and charged at the steel barricade. Too Magnificent switches around to his opposite side though, instead grabbing him by the back of the head and launching him hard spine first right into the barricade. Psycho bounces off but rushes forward immediately roaring as he lariats Too Magnificent, his former tag team partner and takes him down hard to the mats. Hurse chops Chapel across the chest several times, the World Champion fighting desperately back against the Livewire Champion. The chops register a “woo” from the fans and knocks the War Angel back first into the barricade before Hurse backs up then charges in quickly. That’s when the King of Monsters bends forward, catching the Master of Control against his shoulder and back dropping him over the barricade, right into the sea of humanity, where he crashes with a hard thud. Chapel then steps forward a bit, trying to collect himself before he turns to face the World Champion standing up in the crowd, using some of the fans to pull himself to his feet. Right as he does, Chapel rushes across the mats and leaps over the barricade, right into Hurse, their noggins hitting one another before they tumble to the concrete where the crowd is going nuts around then. Jackson Adams and Jon Rich have rolled into the ring. JA is the first to his feet with Rich entering behind him. This allows Jackson to get the drop, immediately beginning to stomp Rich to the back of the head several times.

Nevertheless Jon is getting to his feet even as Adams slugs him repeatedly to the face with closed fists, really trying to wear him down. He even steps in and slaps on a side headlock upon his kneeling opponent, completely exposing his face as he begins to punch him repeatedly to the forehead with hard closed fists. Jon tries to block it but Adams is wearing him out with the jabs, really trying to lacerate him with the blows. That’s when Rich throws a forearm into his lower back, followed by another one then places his hands to the spine of the former Livewire Champion. He pushes him off with all his strength, sending Jackson charging across the ring into the ropes in front of him. He bounces off of them and comes back in before Rich drops to his chest and stomach in front of him, causing Jackson to have to leap over him and continue into the opposite cables. Jackson bounces off and comes back in at Rich who stands then leap frogs over top of him. Again Adams rushes into the cables due to his momentum, bouncing off them coming back in at Rich who turns and lunges into the air, connecting with an incredibly stiff dropkick right to Jackson’s face. JA is sent flipping over backwards, crashing onto his chest and stomach.

Douglas: The IWC roster dominating the Alpha Generation thus far in this massive brawl. I pity the fool who was assigned to officiate this match.

Mayne: Pity the fool? What next for you Billy, a thousand gold necklaces and a cheesy flat top hair cut? The only reason the roster is getting the better of the Alpha Generation right now is because they got the drop on them, plain and simple. If this were a fair tag match, without the roster breaking it down into a damn riot, the Alpha Generation would have the clear cut advantage.

The fans are still going nuts around Chapel and Hurse, as the War Angel has mounted the World Champion, slugging him repeatedly to the face while he lies on his back across solid concrete. Desolation connects with a hard knife edge chop right to AWOL’s chest, one so thunderous it causes him to turn away and stumble forward a bit, allowing the Dark Man to think for a moment before he slides into the ring. There Jon Rich has already pulled Adams into a seated position in one of the corners, stomping away at his chest repeatedly. That’s before Desolation charges up behind him and delivers a hard double axehandle right to his upper back, bending Rich forward a bit. He’s then grabbed by the back of the head, turned and charged across the ring before ultimately being thrown through the ropes to the outside of the ring. Rich spins inside out and crashes hard across his back on the outside mats while Desolation steps to the center of the ring, glaring at him through the cables. It’s obvious Desolation has something big in store for Jon as he begins to rise to his feet on the outside mats, preparing for a dive perhaps. That’s exactly what he sets up for, charging across the ring, bouncing off the far ropes then coming back in. As soon as he does though, AWOL slides into the ring, running in front of him and catching him with a huge spinning powerslam. Desolation is driven with force right into the canvas before he begins to writhe in anguish, rolling all around the canvas with his back arched from the ring. AWOL rises to his feet when Jackson steps up behind him, grabbing both of his arms, spinning him around into position for the Unprettier already. Before he can hit it though, AWOL places his hands to his spine, shoving him off across the ring right into the cables. Adams bounces off and comes rushing back in before AWOL bends down, catching him by the leg then lifting him into the air, dropping back so that he flapjacks Jackson right on top of the laid out Desolation. Both men begin to roll around the ring in obvious pain, curled into balls while the fans are on their feet, putting their hands together.

Mayne: Come on guys, get your heads out of your assess already! This is a brawl your in, not a match!

Douglas: Desolation knows something about brawls Billy, he’s no stranger to hardcore extravaganzas, but he’s facing off with a fresh, fired up, and highly motivated AWOL, who is actually fighting with a cause right here tonight.

Both Desolation and Adams roll to the outside of the ring, spilling to the outside mats while Psycho has hold of Too Magnificent by the hair, dragging him to his knees and slugging him repeatedly to the face. He then delivers a quick forearm right to the side of his skull, doing so with rabid intensity, grunting and grinding his teeth all throughout the process with each shot. He delivers a hard elbow right to the top of Too Magnificent’s head before the psychotic first ever Livewire Champion shoves Psycho backwards into the exposed turnbuckle post. He hits it hard while Too Mag gets up in front of him then charges in, unleashing a roar as he goes for a big splash. Psycho steps out of the way though, causing Too Mag to splash the turnbuckle post, bouncing off then staggering away as he turns towards Desolation and Adams who are fighting to get to their feet on the outside mats. In the crowd, Chapel has pulled Hurse to his feet, leaning him back first against the barricade while ripping his shirt down the middle to reveal his chest. He lifts his large palm into the air and slaps it with force down over the sternum of the World Champion. Hurse tries to cover up his chest with both arms while falling to his knees, the War Angel taking hold of his hair, leading him to his feet then pressing him up into the air above his head. Hurse’s eyes are wide with shock, shaking his head as Chapel steps towards the barricade then military presses him over the steel so that he crashes onto the thin protective outside mats, rolling across them. The fans are going nuts behind Chapel who turns and gives one the middle finger, only further exciting them.

Desolation, Adams, Too Magnificent, and Hurse are all four getting to their feet as Chapel, Jon Rich, and Psycho step in, beginning to pummel them with right hands to the face. Desolation is fight back against the War Angel though, launching a knee into his gut while Jackson rakes Psycho’s eyes, causing him to bend forward, placing his palms over his face. As Rich is firing right hands into the face of a kneeling Hurse, Too Magnificent double axehandles Jon to the upper back. It seems at last the Alpha Generation is getting in some offense while AWOL stands in the center of the ring, surveying all this with his hands on his hips. He shakes his head then charges across the ring into the opposite ropes, bouncing off them back first then rushing forward. Screams emanate from the crowd as AWOL dives over the top rope with a flying awesome splash right on top of everyone brawling on the outside of the ring. They barely have time to look up before the massive body of AWOL comes crashing down on top of them all. Everyone is flung to the mats as a result with AWOL rolling across them as well, the fans giving this a standing ovation.

Fans: IWC, IWC, IWC!!

Mayne: AHHHHHHH!!

Douglas: AWOL taking flight and taking out not only his opponents, but his own teammates! In war you got to expect casualties though, especially from friendly fire.

Billy: Can we stop with the war puns please? The Alpha Generation may seriously be hurt, someone get a doctor out here for Adams. He may have sprung an ankle, or broke a nail, or damaged a follicle.

Still the ovation is raining down from the pumped up crowd while all eight men start to get to their feet then proceed to start brawling all over again. Several officials have come out, in fact, it appears that they all have as they demand that these guys get back into their respective corners. No one is listening though as Chapel just approaches the ring to grab the tarp, throwing it into the air and reaching under it, grabbing hold of a table already. He slides it out and begins to set it up on the outside mats with the referees demanding he stop. Finally, Hurse has rolled back into the ring, the only one paying attention to the rules, but he’s followed in by his age old rival, Psycho. The fans become enthused to see both men in the ring together as Hurse stands up, thinking he’s escaped the madness outside the ring only to spin around and find himself glaring into the twisted mess of burnt tissue that is Psycho’s features. Immediately Psycho kicks him hard to the gut, Hurse being bent forward as the former Livewire Champion begins to deck him to the face repeatedly. Psycho delivers a hard European Uppercut right to his jaw, knocking him backwards into the cables, which he falls against to keep himself upright. Several of the other performers in this match have begun to rise onto the aprons as well, finally listening to the orders of the official, who want some type of order restored out here so that this match can officially get started.

Psycho forearms Hurse to the side of the his already exasperated face, then does so again before taking him by the wrist. He whips him off across the ring into the opposite ropes, the World Champion turns though and reverses the whip on Psycho. He then spins around and bends forward as Psycho comes charging in only to side step him and grab hold of his hair, pulling up on it then using it to launch Hurse over backwards, sending him crashing hard into the canvas. The Champion sits up, reaching for the back of his neck in pain while Psycho steps in, stomping him to the back of the head. He then grabs him by the hair, rolling him to his knees before standing him up only to deliver a stiff headbunt that knocks him right back down to the canvas. Psycho is obviously unleashing a great deal of pint up frustration and hostility that he’s had against Hurse who rolls across the canvas, sitting himself up against the turnbuckle. He sticks his palms out in the direction of the former Livewire Champion, begging him not to hurt him as Psycho takes this into consideration. He begins to stroke his jaw, nodding his head and contemplating it before he shrugs his shoulders and instead starts to stomp Hurse repeatedly to the sternum. Psycho even holds onto the top rope for good measure and so that he can put more force behind his stomps to Hurse’s sternum. He now places his boot right to his throat and leans down into it, choking him violently. As Hurse’s face turns blue and he desperately slaps at Psycho’s ankle he finally takes his foot away, turning towards the center of the ring. He steps to the center then spins around, rushing right at Hurse before delivering a devastating knee strike directly to his face. Somehow Hurse is still seated in the corner though, his eyes rolling to the back of his head before Psycho spins around, thrusting his arm up high into the air, getting a thunderous ovation as a result. He then approaches Jon Rich, slapping his hand, tagging him into this match.

Mayne: Someone tag Hurse out, please, ref, do something, make these bad men stop bullying the World Champion.

Douglas: Hurse is getting everything he deserves in that ring and then some for all his actions here in the IWC as of late and over the years.

Psycho slides to the outside of the ring and steps around behind the turnbuckle Hurse is seated back first against. He reaches into the ring and through the ropes to grab both of Hurse’s wrists, pulling them in reverse and making sure the World Champion is stuck in this position. That’s when Rich steps to the diagonal corner then charges across the ring, building up a great deal of momentum before he dives forward with a hard basement dropkick right to Hurse’s face. The AG member begins to flop on the canvas as a result while Rich rolls over onto his feet then approaches AWOL, who is eager for the tag. He slaps his hand as AWOL quickly enters and steps across the ring, Psycho still holding Hurse’s wrist and arms. AWOL sticks his foot out, placing it right to the side of Hurse’s face then scraping his boot across it, giving him a face wash. He then pulls his boot back and grinds it across the surface of the Champion’s features once more. Finally he takes off running across the ring right into the enemy corner and delivers a quick elbow to Jackson’s face who was standing behind the ropes in front of him. Jackson is knocked off the apron before AWOL turns, bolting across the ring then sticking his foot out, driving it right into Hurse’s face with a huge running face wash. Psycho finally lets go of Hurse’s wrists while the World Champion rolls across the ring, holding his features in terrible pain. His head just took quite a beating from the majority of his opponents while AWOL steps up behind him, grabbing hold of his hair and dragging him across his knees towards his corner. AWOL lifts his hand and slaps Jon Rich’s again, tagging him back into his contest. The youthful Rich enters and grabs Hurse by the hair, leading him up to his feet then lobbing a hard right into his forehead that takes him right back down to the canvas across his back.

Jon now turns, stepping across the ring and sliding through the ropes onto the apron before grabbing the top rope. He shows his agility by springing up onto the top cable then launching himself off as he extends his leg and plants it right across Hurse’s throat. The World Champion looks like he’s having fits, flopping around on the canvas with wild gyrations. Rich quickly pulls him to his feet though and delivers a couple of rapid fire right hands to his jaw followed by a hard chop to his sternum, all the while knocking the Master of Control backwards into the cables. He falls against them for support once again as Rich whips him off across the ring then steps to the center of it, dropping to his chest and stomach across the canvas. As Hurse comes back in he’s forced to jump over Rich, continuing into the opposite ropes, bouncing off them then coming back in as Jon lunges to his feet before springing into the air for the leapfrog. Hurse stops right under him though, catching Jon on top of his shoulders then dropping forward into a vicious powerbomb. Jon’s body crashes violently into the ring while Hurse flops onto his back, trying to catch his breath.

Mayne: Oh thank God, Hurse finally got in some offense. He’s leading by example now.

Douglas: For the past five minutes Hurse has done nothing but get his ass handed to him by the rest of the roster. He needs to make that tag if the Alpha Generation even have a hope of staying in this contest.

Billy: Never fear Dan, for when there is no hope the AG will still reign triumphant. Their like that little fat kid who played for Notre Dam, then went on to star in the Lord of the Rings.

Hurse rolls desperately to his elbows and knees, crawling across the ring towards his corner then reaching out, slapping the hand of Desolation. The Dark Man quickly enters the squared circle, the whole mood of the ring changing as Rich fights to get to his feet. Just as he does, Desolation steps to his side and connects with a hard buzzsaw like kick right to the back of his thigh. This causes Rich to begin to hobble and bend forward before Desolation connects with an equally as hard Kawada style kick right to Jon’s gut, causing him to double over. While stuck in this position, Desolation spins around and delivers an absolutely vicious spinning back kick right to Jon’s face. The crowd screams and grimaces at the sound of the impact as Rich is taken down to the canvas, sent rolling across the ring in the direction of his corner. Desolation points at him then at each of his teammates, demanding someone else come into fight him now. That’s when Chapel reaches over the ropes and slaps his shoulder, entering quickly over the ropes.

Douglas: Oh here we go ladies and gentlemen, Chapel and Desolation one on one in the ring, you may recall some of the exploits between both of these men a couple weeks ago in that handicap casket match, where no animosity was resolved between them. This will really give them the opportunity though to settle some of the heated comments they made in direction towards one another in the weeks leading up to that match.

The War Angel is scowling in the direction of Desolation who looks less than intimidated, even as he runs his fingers over the bandaged wound on the top of his head. That’s before he rips the bandage off to reveal the laceration that was caused by Chapel with the railroad spike just the week before. Strangely, Desolation slugs himself in the wound, showing that it no longer causes him any pain before stepping towards a somewhat bewildered Chapel, and throwing a chop at his sternum. Chapel ducks it, getting around behind his back as the Dark Man spins to face him. He grabs him by the wrist and whips him across the ring in the direction of the turnbuckle. Desolation charges at it and turns, hitting it back first before Chapel comes rushing in with a lariat directed at his throat. However, the Dark Man quickly back elbows him to the face as he’s coming in, causing Chapel to stagger in reverse before Desolation comes rushing out of the corner. Chapel bends forward, catching him against his shoulder though then back dropping him high through the air. Desolation crashes into the canvas across his back while Chapel turns and lays in wait for him, urging him to rise. As Desolation rolls to his feet, he’s taken down with a quick running lariat from Chapel, the War Angel carried forward by his momentum before again laying in wait. Desolation rolls over onto his elbows and knees, getting to his feet when Chapel charges forward again only to have the front of his ankle dropkicked by the Dark Man. That same ankle that was targeted last week by Pat Evans, Chapel collapses to all fours before Desolation rises to his feet and delivers another hard basement dropkick directly to the side of his face. Chapel is knocked onto his back while Desolation rolls over in reverse right onto his feet, extending his arms out to his sides while chuckling then turning as he drops a quick elbow into the sternum of the Livewire Champion. Almost arrogantly now, Desolation nips up onto his feet and shows his agility, getting even more hostility from the fans.

Jackson Adams has dropped to the outside mats, approaching several large front row fans who are screaming obscenities at Desolation. As the Alpha Gen member looks over them for a moment, rather timidly he finally turns towards a small child, no older than ten, seated silently in the front row, pointing into his face and shouting at him to shut up or else. In the ring Desolation has approached Too Magnificent, quickly slapping his hand, tagging him into the contest. Too Mag doesn’t wait very long as he climbs the turnbuckle, getting to the top rope then steadying himself. As he balances him on the turnbuckle he now dives off, flying through the air with an extension of his leg for the Arrogance is Bliss when Chapel rolls out of the way. Too Magnificent crashes with force upon his posterior then begins to shout at the top of his lungs, The War Angel gets to his feet, shaking his damaged ankle beneath him then charges forward, bending down and throwing his entire body right into the seated Too Mag’s chest. He then rolls across the canvas while Too Magnificent spills onto his back, Chapel getting to his knees. The War Angel quickly gets to his feet while Psycho motions for a tag. Chapel approaches him and slaps his hand, the Livewire Champion vacating the ring while Psycho climbs the turnbuckle. He does exactly what Too Magnificent just did, getting to the top rope but now turning his back towards his former teammate, setting up for a moonsault. He jumps off, all his weight flying through the air before he meets with the same result Too Magnificent did, eating nothing but canvas, which is good since it’s high in fiber. Too Mag rolled out of the way, just shy of the area Psycho was aiming for and hit with the full force of his body. He bounces off the ring and begins to stand up when Too Magnificent charges at him, catching him around the neck and pulling him around into a hard swinging neckbreaker.

Mayne: See, this is why I think high risk moves should be banned, they never pay off. All it’s done is end up leaving both Psycho and Too Magnificent in prone states.

Douglas: Yes, neither move paid off for either man, but that’s not going to stop them from putting their bodies at risk to dish out more punishment.

Billy: You mean, to keep them from being idiots?

Too Magnificent quickly rolls to his feet and grabs Psycho by the hair, dragging him up to a standing base. He then places him in a front chancery and lifts the sadistic one into the air, holding him upside down in a suplex position before charging forward and throwing him up into the air. He then catches him on top of his shoulders and drops into a sit-out powerbomb from a running vertical suplex position. He has his shoulders buried into the back of Psycho’s legs.

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Rich quickly enters the ring and stomps Too Mag to the back of the head, enticing the angry giant to rise to his feet and rush at him. He stops just short of the enemy corner though as AWOL steps through the ropes, pointing into his face, Too Mag backing up with a grin stretched across his features. He then turns towards Psycho who is struggling to reach his feet and rushes in, delivering a hard running European Uppercut right to his jaw. The impact knocks Psycho off of his feet and sends him crashing to the canvas before charging into the ropes at his side. He bounces off and comes back in, jumping up incredibly high into the air then extending his leg into a picture perfect leg drop right across the throat of the former Annihilation World Champion. Psycho’s body kicks up high into the air as a result before Too Magnificent rises to his feet, greatly enjoying the onslaught he’s putting on his former Lost Cause tag team partner. He grabs Psycho by the hair and drags him up to his seat before approaching his corner now and slapping the hand of Jackson Adams. JA quickly begins to climb the turnbuckle, which everyone appears to be doing when tagged into this action. With quickness Too Magnificent drags Psycho towards the ropes a few feet away. He turns Psycho and sticks his head and arms through the cables, wrapping his biceps around the middle rope and then grabbing his legs, lifting up on them. He does this so that Psycho is lifted up off the canvas and stretched out, his mid-section entirely exposed for Adams who is standing on the top rope. Jackson quickly jumps off the turnbuckle, flying through the air then turning upside down as he connects with a senton splash right across the exposed mid-section of Psycho as he was still being stretched between the ropes and Too Magnificent. The crowd reacts with shock at the sight of this while Psycho crashes to the canvas, rolling back and forth with his arms draped over his ribs.

Mayne: Wow, what a tag team move by Jackson Adams and Too Magnificent! That was simply put amazing, and now it’s further weakened Psycho.

Douglas: That was indeed a hell of a move Billy. The Alpha Generation working as a cohesive unit now and beginning to wear down Psycho, I don’t think this match has paused, hesitated, or slowed down in the slightest since it’s started.

Mayne: It will now that the slow dissection of Psycho has begun!

Desolation and Hurse are shouting for their tag team partners to stay on Psycho, and to not listen to the referee as he demands that either Too Mag or Jackson leave the ring. Neither one will obey Ingelson’s commands as they are already pushing Psycho into one of the corners in a seated position, both men stomping away at him repeatedly. They are wearing him down with boot shots before Too Mag turns and pie faces Ingelson, shoving him down to the canvas and away from him. He then returns to booting Psycho’s chest before both men finally grab him by the wrists, dragging him up to his feet. They now grab him by the wrists, pulling Psycho up to a standing base as they look over their shoulders at the opposite corner. They whip him quickly in it’s direction as Psycho charges in then turns, hitting it hard back first. Too Magnificent grabs Jackson by the wrist, backing him into the turnbuckle then whipping him with force right at the prone Psycho. However, the sadistic former champion pulls himself up to a standing base on the second rope then jumps over top of Jackson as he comes rushing in, landing on his feet while Too Magnificent barrels out of the corner at him. Psycho drops into a roll under Too Mag’s lariat, getting to his feet behind him then rushes into the cables as Adams steps to his partner’s side. That’s when Psycho jumps up onto the second rope and shows his remarkable agility by flipping over backwards into a moonsault right on top of both men, knocking them down to the canvas with the crowd quickly clapping in response, not often seeing a man of his side perform such a move.

Psycho gets to his feet quickly while Jackson rolls to his hands and knees, perhaps the more fresh of the two just hit. As he gets to his feet, Psycho steps forward, lobbing a boot at his face only for Jackson to duck it, rushing into the cables behind him. He bounces off as Psycho turns his side towards him, Jackson showing his own agility now as he jumps into the air, wrapping his legs around his opponent’s head. He’s going for the leg scissors take down but Psycho has caught him around the waist, holding him upside down in a tombstone piledriver position. Psycho steps over top of the laid out Too Magnificent then jumps into the air, coming down position first on his opponent’s chest while piledriving the top of Jackson’s head into Too Mag’s gut. The crowd reacts with much praise and enthusiasm as both Alpha Generation members roll and flop on the canvas, Psycho quickly getting to all fours.

Douglas: OOOH, Psycho just gave Jackson Adams the tombstone sit-down piledriver right on top of his own teammate!

Mayne: That could be a career ending move, Psycho is risking the livelihood of these men with such maneuvers. Fire him, fire him right now. It will save hundreds since we’re forced to use that blurring technology to block the sight of his face from those watching at home.

Psycho crawls across his knees with the fans cheering then slaps the hand of AWOL. The Big Crazy Bastard rolls into the ring while Jackson is already approaching his corner, quickly tagging out to Hurse, who looks back and forth with fright, clearly he doesn’t want to re-enter the ring. AWOL steps forward, motioning for him to bring it, wanting a piece of the World Champion who swallows deeply then begins to tentatively slide through the ropes into the ring. Before he can though, Too Magnificent double axehandles AWOL to the back then bends forward, burying his shoulder into his spine. He spins AWOL around, burying his shoulder into his gut then lifting him up into the air. He allows the GM to hang over his shoulder a bit before pulling him down with a sit-out spinebuster right to the canvas between his legs. The collision is devastating while Too Magnificent rolls away, Hurse quickly entering the ring now that his opponent has been laid out for him. He turns his back towards AWOL then jumps into the air, with what appears to be a standing moonsault, instead turning it into a twisting senton splash right across the sternum of the General Manager. He arrogantly leans back, hooking the leg of the man he once teamed with as part of the Empire, a person he’s had a storied rivalry with throughout the years.

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AWOL gets his shoulder up in time, causing Hurse to roll to his knees and slap the canvas, appearing irate over this. He rises to his feet and grabs Ingelson’s hand, shaking it back and forth until he forces him to hold three fingers up. Alex then swipes his hands through the air, saying that doesn’t make it official as Hurse steps to the cables, grabbing the top one and shaking it while throwing a temper tantrum. He can’t seem to accept that the big Crazy Bastard kicked out of those last two hard hitting moves. Finally he steps towards the GM’s legs, grabbing hold of them and lifting them into the air. He tries to turn him over quickly into the Legend Lock with the fans screaming very loudly. Before he can do it though, Rich slides into the ring and then charges up beside the World Champion, delivering a hard step up inzugari to the back of his head. The impact knocks Hurse almost unconscious before AWOL sits up, pulling him down into a small package.

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Right before the pinfall can be made, Desolation rushes into the ring and delivers a swift hard, Kawada style buzzsaw kick right between the shoulder blades of AWOL. The GM rolls onto his seat, his entire body tensing up before he turns to glare at Desolation in anger. He rises to his knees before Desolation shakes his head then steps in, delivering another brutally stiff buzzsaw kick to the side of his face. AWOL is knocked onto his back as a result of the impact, that last shot would have broken stone, so there’s no telling what it did to the equally as thick skull of the former World Champion.

Douglas: The referee is obviously incapable of maintaining control of this match thus far, individual after individual has entered that ring and gotten involved in this match thus far.

Mayne: This is tag team warfare Dan, you said there was no rules, no regulations, so the ref has no real power to do anything but stand there and look pretty, and he’s already doing a horrible job at that. Of course anyone would with Billy Mayne seated right here at ringside.

That last kick almost seems to have lacerated the temple of AWOL who is struggling to get to his feet. Instead of being able to get up though, the Champion steps in and boots him to the jaw. He then grabs the General Manager around the head, dragging him to his feet and grabbing him by the ear while leaning in to shout at him.

Hurse: Can you hear me now mother fucker?

Hurse jumps into the air and delivers a hard standing spinning heel kick right to AWOL’s face, knocking him off of his feet and back down to the canvas while the World Champion rolls across the ring to his knees. He quickly scoots across them and slaps the hand of Jackson again, who quickly re-enters the ring then grabs AWOL by the wrist and ankle, dragging him across the ring towards the ropes. The GM is completely laid out while Jackson slips through the ropes onto the apron then grabs the top cable, pulling himself over into a senton splash right across AWOL’s chest and stomach. He quickly crawls in and hooks the leg of his bitter rival now.

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AWOL puts his foot up on the rope only for Too Magnificent to kick it off. He didn’t do it in time to stop the official from seeing it though, Ingelson demanding that Jackson break the hold. Adams sits up, glaring into the official’s face in anger, shouting something at him while rising to his feet, slapping both of his hands together. Much like Hurse he steps towards the official, grabbing him by the hand, lifting it into the air and now showing him how to lift each finger into the air to make a three count. Ingelson pulls it away and insists that it was merely a two while Jackson stomps his foot and turns towards AWOL who is slowly rising to his knees. As he begins to get up, Jackson slugs him to the face, then does it once more, the strikes beginning to weaken him a bit. Jackson backs up now and then charges forward, delivering a stiff knee lift right to the side of his face. The impact knocks AWOL through the ropes, sending him spilling onto his feet on the outside of the ring. Somehow he remains standing long enough for Desolation to run across the apron then dive forward with a huge flying back elbow off the apron. AWOL crashes onto his back, looking out of it while Hurse drops to the outside of the ring now as well, approaching the GM. Both men stomp on him repeatedly while Jackson grabs Ingelson by the shirt, distracting him and shouting something at him. On the outside of the ring, Hurse and Desolation have both dragged AWOL to his feet , bending forward and burying their shoulders into his spine. They grunt and lift him up into the air while spreading open his legs and then charging forward, driving him testicles first right into the exposed turnbuckle post. The impact causes AWOL to shout out in anguish then tumble onto his back across the outside mats, reaching for his genitalia in tremendous pain.

Mayne: Hahaha, the Alpha Generation just picking AWOL apart now on the outside of the ring, and in the process ensuring their will be no hellspawn of the GM for future generations.

Douglas: A turnbuckle castration attempted by the AG, but it’s going to take much more than that to put down the General Manager.

With AWOL lying on his back spread across the mats, Too Magnificent rushes across the apron and then dives off, soaring through the air before he extends his elbow and plants it right in the chest of the former World Heavyweight Champion. The crowd reacts with shock at the sight of this massive man delivering such a brutal move. Too Mag quickly rolls away though as Desolation steps behind Hurse, bending forward and sticking the back of his head under his posterior. He hoists the World Champion up into the air and places his hands to the back of his thighs, pushing him off his shoulders and sending him into a back first senton splash right on top of the GM’s ribs. Disgust permeates from an outraged fanbase while Desolation grabs AWOL around the back of the head, dragging the GM to his feet then pulling him towards the ring. After briefly kneeing him to the gut he rolls him into the ring under the ropes back into the squared circle. With quickness Adams drops and hooks his leg once more.

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AWOL shoots his shoulder from the canvas defiantly though while Adams punches the canvas, becoming rather frustrated. He then approaches Desolation, slapping his hand before spinning around to grab AWOL’s legs. He lifts them up into the air then drops in reverse, catapulting AWOL towards the ropes. As soon as he hits them chest first Desolation launches his shin right into his face with another devastating kick, the impact knocking AWOL almost unconscious before he falls backwards right on top of Jackson’s bent knees. AWOL lies stretched over top of them spine first with Jackson still holding onto his ankles as Desolation grabs the top rope, showing his agility now by springing up onto it and then jumping off. He soars forward a bit and connects brutally with a double stomp right to AWOL’s chest while he was stuck in this position, almost breaking his spine as a result. Desolation then rolls forward across the canvas, staring into the enemy corner where Chapel, Jon Rich, and Psycho watch on in disgust.

The GM is spread across his chest and stomach now with Jackson quickly stomping him to the sternum before exiting the ring. The Alpha Generation seemingly has this thing completely within their grasp now while AWOL tries his best to push himself up to all fours and get to his feet. As soon as he starts to though, Desolation steps in, wrapping his arm around his neck and dragging him up to his feet only to snap him over hard spine first onto the canvas with a quick snap suplex. Desolation then rolls over to his knees before getting to his feet and approaching his corner, slapping the hand of Hurse, tagging him back into this contest. Hurse rushes into the ropes at AWOL’s side, jumping into the air and landing feet first on the second cable before springing off and turning. He drops a quick leg right across AWOL’s throat then rolls onto his knees and crawls into another quick cover.

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Psycho steps in and stomps Hurse to the back of the head to ensure that the three count wasn’t made. The official steps in front of him though, demanding he exit the ring. Psycho sneers him at then backs up slowly, beginning to vacate the squared circle finally. This allows Hurse to mount AWOL, sitting on his chest and pulling up the back of his head, beginning to fire off piston like right hand into his forehead repeatedly. The World Champion then rises to his feet and grabs AWOL around the neck, rolling him to his knees before taking hold of his wrist. He swings around under it, as if setting up for the arm ringer but instead uses it to stand him up. He then steps around behind AWOL, grabbing him by the back of the head before dragging him towards the enemy turnbuckle. He bends the GM forward and sticks the back of his head against the middle turnbuckle pad while both Adams and Too Magnificent grab both of his wrists, pulling his arms through the ropes to hold him in this prone position. Hurse then rushes across the ring before turning and charging in with a huge heat seeking dropkick right to AWOL’s posterior, pushing the back of his head with force into the turnbuckle pad.

Mayne: Oh, hahahaha, that was beautiful, AWOL’s neck possibly snapped, well, hopefully I should say, with that last tag team move.

Douglas: I’ve never seen AWOL dominated like this before. I do believe he may have come back too soon after being thrown off that stage through those tables, plus, he doesn’t step into the ring that often anymore.

Mayne: Quit making excuses for the man’s pitfalls.

Obvious pain is coursing through AWOL’s neck while he stands up, placing his spine to the turnbuckle, holding the back of his head throughout the process. Hurse steps in and chops him across the chest with a snide smile on his face while Desolation steps behind AWOL, reaching over the ropes to pin both of his arms in place. Again the World Champion steps around the ring then charges in, jumping into the air and delivering another brutal heat seeking dropkick directly to the face of the Big Crazy Bastard. AWOL’s eyes bat in a sporadic manner while he almost falls out of the corner, Hurse getting to his feet then stepping towards the enemy corner, gesturing in the GM’s direction while laughing to himself. Suddenly Psycho spits over the ropes right into Hurse’s face, the AG member immediately dropping to the canvas and swiping desperately at his features, trying to clean them off. He rolls to his knees and shouts in anger at Psycho while Rich and Chapel beg him to come do something about it. Hurse just sinks his teeth into his lower lip and approaches AWOL, stomping him to the gut before grabbing him by the back of the head, leading him across the ring. He backs him up into one of the turnbuckles on the same side of the ring as his opponents before whipping the battered GM Into the diagonal corner. AWOL rushes into it, turning and hitting it hard spine first, his arms falling over the cables while Hurse grins, looking out over the fans and nodding his head. He slaps his chest with both hands before whipping the spit from his face and flicking it across the ring at Psycho, then charging at AWOL. He jumps into the air, about to extend his legs for the heat seeker dropkick before AWOL steps out of the corner, catching hold of them. Hurse finds his knees buried into AWOL’s chest with the back of his legs held before the GM steps out of the corner and throws him across the ring backwards. Hurse crashes with force across his spine then rolls over in reverse onto his elbows and knees, the crowd starting to cheer.

Douglas: AWOL keeping Hurse from connecting with another of those heat seeking dropkicks! He’s finally showing some signs of life.

Mayne: Quit it AWOL, just quit it! You must realize how futile all of this is after all!

Jackson now enters the ring and steps to the corner diagonal to the one AWOL is barely holding himself up in. An disgruntled expression befalls Jackson’s face before he comes rushing in, jumping into the air right as the Big Crazy Bastard looks up, extending his arm and catching him across the chest. AWOL swipes his leg behind Jackson’s and powers him down out of the corner back first into the canvas with a hard standing STO. Adams crashes viciously into the canvas before he rolls across the ring, finding himself lying side by side with Hurse, neither man able to move really while lying in the center of the squared circle. AWOL staggers out of the corner towards his opponents, then turns to start making his way towards his corner when Too Magnificent steps up onto the turnbuckle behind him. The Alpha Gen member dives off, flying through the air for a splash when AWOL turns his side towards him, catching him right on top of his shoulders. AWOL then spins around and pulls Too Magnificent off with a death valley driver that plants his opponent right on top of both Jackson and Hurse. The crowd rejoices, jumping from their seats while all three Alpha Generation members roll around on the canvas, aching from head to toe. Desolation turns away from the ring, covering his eyes with both hands and shaking his head, obviously not liking what he’s seeing going on inside.

In obvious pain and a bit exhausted AWOL lies on his back before rolling across the ring towards his corner. He gets to all fours, starting to crawl towards his corner where all three of his teammates are anxious, dying for the tag into this contest. That’s when AWOL extends his hand, about to make the tag before Jackson and Too Magnificent get to their feet and grab hold of his ankles. They hold onto them tightly, keeping AWOL from making the tag, or so they think before AWOL dives forward, slapping the hand of Jon Rich. The crowd puts their hands together as Jon quickly springs up onto the top rope then flies off, soaring over AWOL and connecting with a double lariat to both throats of Adams and Too Magnificent. The AG members are knocked to their backs while Rich ducks forward, rolling across the ring to his feet then charging at the corner Desolation is standing just outside of.

The Dark Man still has his eyes covered, shaking his head when Rich steps up the turnbuckle then pushes off with his legs, turning as he delivers a stiff twisting kick right to the back of Desolation’s head. Another loud outburst comes from the fans while Desolation is sent flipping over forward to the mats below, Jon quickly getting to his feet in the ring. Hurse rushes at him quickly though with a jumping spinning heel kick that Rick ducks under. He gets to his feet right when Adams and Too Magnificent get to their feet, interlocking hands before rushing forward with a double lariat. Rich drops into a forward roll under the interlocked arms then jumps up onto the turnbuckle, turning around to face both men. Too Mag and Jackson spin in opposite directions before Psycho enters and kicks Adams to the gut, bending him forward, Chapel steps into the ring to deliver a knee to Too Mag’s gut. Both men are bent over forward now, side by side before Rich jumps off the turnbuckle, landing feet first on Adams’ back then stepping across it right onto Too Mag’s spine. He walks across both their backs then jumps off Too Mag’s, flying through the air at Hurse who turns around just in time to be caught around the neck, Rich swinging around into a huge tornado DDT. The crowd reacts with shock, everyone in the building jumping up and down, just going absolutely nuts.

Fans: THAT WAS AWESOME, THAT WAS AWESOME, THAT WAS AWESOME!!

Douglas: Your damn straight that was awesome, Rich busting out a Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon style tornado DDT just now.

Mayne: I hated that movie, and I hate that move! They were both overrated!

Clapping and cheers are still bouncing off the walls of the Manhattan Center while Rich gets to his feet, slightly winded. Psycho is already delivering stiff forearm strikes right to the face of Jackson, backing him up with each shot while Chapel is open hand chopping Too Magnificent across the chest, backing him up into the turnbuckle. While there Chapel grabs him by the hair, starting to headbunt him to the skull repeatedly, both men’s faces filled with great intensity. Psycho grabs Jackson by the hair and begins to deliver repeated forearm strikes to his face then grabs him by the wrist. He whips him off across the ring quickly into the opposite ropes before Desolation jumps onto the apron behind him, reaching through the ropes and wrapping his arms around Jackson’s waist. He keeps him from charging back in at Psycho who spins around, charging in with a great burst of speed at a relieved Adams while Desolation is standing up behind him. Just then Jackson’s eyes open widely as Psycho dives at him with a big spear, Adams moving out of the way quickly. This causes Desolation to be hit to the ribs with the spear, being knocked off the apron, both men being sent flying to the mats below with another raucous reaction emanating from the jam packed crowd. The master of the Midas Touch is hit with another headbunt that knocks him back first against the corner before Jackson steps up behind Chapel, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around. The War Angel decks him right to the face though as he is spun around, taking Jackson to the canvas before he turns back towards Too Magnificent who steps forward, delivering a hard big boot right to his face. It glanced him across the side of the face but is still enough to knock Chapel silly, causing him to stagger in reverse to the center of the ring while Too Mag’s eyes glow with hatred, about to charge out of the corner and do something quite brutal, just waiting for the King of Monsters to turn and face him. He charges forward before Jon rushes up behind Chapel, jumping into the air as the War Angel catches him across his back then spins him around into an assisted 619, Rich’s shins hitting Too Magnificent to the gut as he comes charging in.

Too Magnificent is knocked onto his back while Rich is still spread across Chapel’s back before he throws him up into the air on his shoulders, holding him in a fireman’s carry. Hurse has spilled to the outside of the ring, staggering across the mats as Chapel grimaces from the pain coursing through his ankle but throws Rich off his shoulders and then back on top of them so that he’s seated on them now. Chapel steps towards the ropes, placing his hands to the back of Rich’s thighs and shoving him off into a backwards moonsault flip over the cables right on top of Hurse’s shoulder on the outside of the ring. The crowd reacts with shock at the sight of this, immediately commencing with claps as Rich and Hurse hit the mats hard, both champion’s laid out completely. Chapel watches on with pride over the pain he inflicted on Hurse before Adams rushes up behind him and drops down, clipping him to the back of that previously injured ankle. The collision knocks the King of Monsters off of his feet and onto his back as a result, reaching for that same ankle that had a lot of damage done to it at the hands of Pat Evans. Jackson rises to his feet immediately while Chapel is still lying on the canvas grimacing from the pain in his leg, Adams already thanks he has the win, lifting both of his arms into the air before he turns towards AWOL who barrels across the ring. He jumps into the air and delivers an absolutely sickeningly stiff big boot square to his face. Adams is sent flipping over in reverse, crashing onto the canvas across the back of his head then flipping over onto his chest and stomach. The General Manager rises to his feet shouting while red in the face, his entire body contorted with anger before he spins around to face Too Magnificent who rushes forward and almost decapitates him with a lariat. Both men crash to the canvas with the crowd gasping but now standing up, putting their hands together at the sight of everyone laid out in the ring or around it.

Douglas: This match has broken down into insanity ladies and gentlemen, just like how it started.

Mayne: Broken down into insanity? It never stopped, these guys have been in there killing one another since before that bell even rang. I hope AWOL is happy, he wanted a war, and that’s exactly what he’s getting.

Dan: I do believe that’s exactly what does for AWOL, he’s quite the happy camper in there, as he’s no stranger to a war like environment.

On the outside of the ring Psycho has grabbed the tarp hanging from the ring, reaching under it and grabbing hold of a ladder. The fans are screaming as he pulls it out and begins to slide it into the ring, having it slanted with the top half stuck up in the air through the cables and the lower portion positioned under his chest and face. Desolation is trying to get up behind him, Psycho turning his head to glare at him while Too Mag climbs one of the turnbuckles. He doesn’t spot him before it’s too late, Too Magnificent diving off, soaring through the air and delivering the Arrogance is Bliss to the top portion of the ladder, launching the lower half right up into the already disfigured features of Psycho. The impact is severe and vicious, knocking Psycho off of his feet and backwards onto his spine with the crowd starting to scream as a result. The sadistic one is laid out while in the ring Too Magnificent is rolling back and forth, holding his posterior in tremendous pain, the ladder left with the top half slanted against the canvas and the lower portion stuck up into the air. Desolation crawls towards the ring, reaching under it while grabbing hold of a steel chair. He pulls it out then crawls towards Psycho is laid across the mats still, quickly setting the steel up and placing it over top of his chest. Psycho is pinned under the chair while Desolation steps over the barricade telling the crowd to move and pie facing a smaller fan, pushing them aside for getting in his way. He now pulls himself over the barricade, turning before delivering a double stomp to the chair, driving it into Psycho’s chest and causing many of the fans to groan as a result.

Inside of the ring, Chapel has grabbed Jackson by the hair, pulling him to his feet then dragging his head between his legs. He then points to the outside of the squared circle where the table is set up causing the crowd to begin cheering. Chapel nods deviously before hoisting Adams into the air, allowing him to slide over his shoulders in order to catch him by both arms. He is obviously preparing for the crucifix bomb through the table. He just starts to rush forward when his ankle starts to bother him again, causing him to wince in pain while reaching for it, allowing Jackson to slide off his shoulders, landing on his feet behind him. Adams turns around, catching Chapel by the arms and spinning him around before dropping to his seat, pulling the War Angel down into a vicious unprettier. The features of Chapel crash hard into the ring before he bounces off and rolls onto his back, leaving Adams seated on the canvas, clapping to himself. He quickly turns and crawls into the cover on the Livewire Champion though.

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AWOL dives into the scene, dropping a double axehandle to the back of Jackson’s head, breaking up the three count right in time.

Mayne: Ah dammit, Adams should have had it there, he should have had this match won for his team right there, but victory was again stolen from him!

Douglas: I have to admit, he almost had the War Angel with that unprettier, if it had not been for a man who has been his bitter rival over the past few months in General Manager AWOL.

On the outside of the ring, Jon Rich is blasting Hurse to the face repeatedly, hitting him over and over again with hard right hands. That’s before Desolation steps up behind him, holding onto that same steel chair he double stomped into Rich’s chest. Jon throws another right at Hurse’s face that the World Champion ducks, getting around behind him. Jon spins to face the Master of Control though, then charges forward with a lariat at him, Hurse ducks it again while Rich is carried forward by his momentum, charging right into the chair that is flung with violent force directly into his face by Desolation. The steel cracks violently off of his skull and causes him to become cross eyed as a result, staggering in reverse into Hurse who catches him in a full nelson. He then drops back, full nelson suplexing Rich right on the thin protective outside mats, causing him to collapse with force right across his head and neck. He flips over onto his spine now, appearing completely out cold.

BIlly: Well, so much for the N.H.B Champion, I think Desolation and Hurse just caved his skull in with that combination of moves.

Inside of the ring AWOL is rising to his feet before Too Magnificent steps towards him, delivering a hard European Uppercut right to his face, staggering him a bit. AWOL looks barely conscious at this point while Too Mag turns towards the ladder, stepping in it’s direction then sliding it through the ropes into the squared circle. He places it across his chest then charges forward right at the General Manager, hitting the ladder with force against his sternum. AWOL is knocked down to the canvas a result before Too Magnificent approaches the corner, placing the ladder against it diagonally before approaching the General Manager once again. He is trying to get back to his feet after that hard collision before Too Mag drills him over the upper back with a clubbing blow, Jackson also gets up, joining in on the assault upon him. They are both clubbing him over the spine while he tries desperately to get to his feet. Outside of the ring Hurse is approaching Psycho who reaches under the squared circle, retrieving something mysterious. Right as Hurse is on top of him, about to strike, Psycho pulls out a 2x4 embedded with glass chunks and wrapped in barbwire, causing the AG member’s eyes to widen in terror. He begins to back up, holding his palms out in front of him, begging off as he falls to his posterior, sticking his palms out in front of himself. Psycho has a demented grin on his face though while approaching, really savoring this moment, this great opportunity to uncoil his wrath on the World Champion. Yet it seems Hurse is trying to bait Psycho as Desolation is making his away around the ring behind him, pushing the time keeper out of the way and grabbing his bell. He lifts it up into the air above his head then charges across the ring quickly right up behind Psycho who can almost detect him coming, spinning around and driving the 2x4 right into Desolation’s gut. The Dark Man’s face fills with pain as the glass and barbwire rips across his stomach, bending forward immediately. Psycho places him in almost a side headlock then runs the barbwire and glass right across Desolation’s face, ripping open his features. The grating of his skin causes the AG member to spill onto his back, grabbing at his face and kicking his legs, blood already seeping down his features. Psycho turns to face him before Hurse scoots on his knees up behind him, delivering a swift low blow right to his gonads.

Mayne: Noo, Desolation has been busted open by Psycho! This is sick, sick I say, and it’s crossed the damned line!

Douglas: This match starting to break down into unimaginable levels of violence, just like we knew it would. Some classic weapons being busted out to inflict some pain in this one.

The camera briefly switches to Jon Rich laid out on the mats, his forehead busted open by that chair shot, blood pouring down his face while he tries to become coherent again. In the ring AWOL is being backed into one of the corners by Too Magnificent while Jackson climbs up the turnbuckle behind him. He is balancing himself on the second rope and pointing towards the ladder, motioning for Too Mag to whip AWOL into it. Too Mag grins, glad to oblige as he whips AWOL in it’s direction with all his strength. However, the GM turns, reversing it quickly, instead sending Too Magnificent charging into the ladder, spinning around as he crashes into it violently spine first. Somehow he is able to keep standing while AWOL staggers around in front of him. He finally turns around to face Jackson who dives out of the corner, bending forward as he rolls across the canvas, then gets to his feet, springing into the air right at the General Manager who unexpectedly catches him around the waist. He drops back and belly to belly suplexes Adams right into Too Magnificent who was standing propped against the ladder. Both men’s bodies crash hard against one another and the ladder, both of them immediately spilling onto the canvas, rolling around on it in pain. The fans are again standing up, starting a loud “holy shit” chant over what they just witnessed. AWOL remains spread across his back as well, sweating heavily, trying to get himself back into this contest, which has already been absolutely insane thus far.

On the outside of the ring Psycho has fallen to all fours while Hurse now has hold of the 2x4, lifting it up into the air and placing it right against his scalp. He begins to grind it back and forth across his features, Psycho yelling out and laughing at the same time as his skin is ripped open, claret beginning to flow down his face. Hurse just continues to rub the 2x4 back and forth though while a bloodied Desolation drags himself up to his feet with the assistance of the barricade. Crimson liquid is dripping down from his hair-line, sticking out his tongue to catch some of it, enjoying the taste perhaps. Hurse shouts towards him while still holding the 2x4 against Psycho’s face, Desolation planting himself before delivering a brutal buzzsaw kick right into the weapon. This drives and breaks some of it directly against Psycho’s features, the fans reacting with shock over what they just witnessed. Psycho is knocked onto his back, convulsing while blood is just splattering everyone out of his face.

Douglas: Oh my God, this thing is starting to get a little too violent I think. The referee may want to consider doing something about this for the safety of everyone involved in this contest.

Mayne: I’ve been saying that since this match started, but would anyone listen to me? No! See, I’m smart, much smarter than you at least Dan.

Somehow Jon has gotten to his feet on the opposite side of the ring, grabbing hold of the chair that busted him open as he grabs the apron, dragging himself to his feet. He slides the chair into the squared circle while Chapel crawls towards it, grabbing hold of the cold steel. The War Angel is trying to stand up, his body absolutely aching while he sets the chair up on the canvas, turning to face Too Magnificent who has pulled himself up with the assistance of the cables. Just as he does, Chapel steps behind him, bending forward and burying his shoulders into his spine. The Livewire Champion grunts while hoisting Too Mag into the air, setting him up in a torture rack slam position before backing towards the set up chair. Before he can do anything though, Too Mag slides off of his shoulders, landing on his feet behind his back. Chapel spins around and gets kicked to the gut, Too Magnificent dragging his head between his legs. He’s setting up for a powerbomb it seems while bending forward, wrapping his arms around his waist. Yet a bloodied Rich rolls into the ring, getting a last ditch boost of energy as he rushes across the squared circle into the ropes. He bounces off and comes charging back in, jumping high over top of Chapel’s back, landing legs first right on top of Too Mag’s shoulders before he spins around for the hurricarana. However, Too Mag counters and instead turns, delivering a huge powerbomb that plants Rich hard spine first across the set up chair. The steel breaks around Rich’s body while he crashes into the canvas, the fans reacting with shock over what they just witnessed. Jon is convulsing across the canvas, his features twisted while he reaches for his back, the fans screaming, some of them almost crying over the way Rich’s body went through the steel.

In the meanwhile Chapel has rolled across the ring and under the ropes, getting onto the apron. He starts to stand up just a few inches removed from the table as Too Mag steps in, starting to deliver a hard clubbing blows over the ropes and through them into the back of the Livewire Champion. Somehow Chapel remains crouching on the apron though while AWOL gets to his feet finally, slanted forward and beginning to charge forward at Too Mag who turns, taking him down with a big boot to the face. Too Magnificent points down at him, shouting in anger, insisting that no one can get the drop on him. That’s when Chapel stands up behind his back, reaching over the ropes, grabbing Too Mag around the jaw then pulling him into his shoulders. Too Mag’s eyes widen as he’s lifted into the air onto Chapel’s shoulders in a torture rack slam position. After steadying him for a second, Chapel turns and jumps off the apron, dragging Too Mag off his shoulders into a sit-down piledriver right through the table at ringside. Fans are jumping up and down, grasping their hair in disbelief over what they just witnessed while Chapel falls back first against the ring, his eyes open wide and filled with dementia. All that is left before him are broken splinters of wood and the destroyed body of Too Magnificent.

Fans: HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT!!

Mayne: I’m, I’m, I’m speechless....

Douglas: Chapel just destroyed Too Magnificent by piledriving him through that table!!

Everyone in the Manhattan Center are still going nuts over that last sadistic, deranged, career killing move. The violence in this war is living up to their expectations as AWOL is getting to his feet on the inside of the ring, looking out at his old partner Chapel and the battered body of Too Magnificent. His eyes are brazen with shock before he’s drilled over the upper back from behind by both Desolation and Hurse. Jackson gets to his feet, holding his spine while stepping in and then delivering a kick to the back of his head as well. The GM is greatly outnumbered by this Alpha Generation contingent, everyone working him over now while Rich, Chapel, and Psycho are all laid out, incapable of helping him. Desolation and Hurse spin Chapel around, delivering double chops to his chest repeatedly. Adams steps towards the chair that was used on a laid out Rich a few moments ago, scooping the broken remnants of it up off the canvas. He briefly pauses to stomp Jon to the back of his head before approaching the ropes, slipping through them to the outside of the ring. In the meanwhile both Hurse and a very bloodied Desolation scoop the GM up into the air, turning him upside down. They interlock his legs around the rungs of the ladder in the corner, hanging him from it now. The Big Crazy Bastard is prone in this position, hanging upside down from the ladder with a very dazed expression on his face while Adams climbs up the turnbuckle opposite to him. He gets to the top rope then springs off, soaring through the air and sticking the chair under his feet before he dropkicks it right into AWOL’s features. The crowd reacts with shock and astonishment as the steel crashes and crushes the skull of AWOL still stuck hanging upside down from the ladder. Adams hitting a vandaminator with the assistance of the chair on the prone, trapped AWOL, sandwiching his skull between steel and ladder.

Mayne: Hahahaha, yes, yes!! AWOL’s skull was just smashed to smithereens thanks to Jackson his mortal enemy!

Douglas: Just like Too Magnificent, AWOL may have been taken completely out of the match at this point, due to that brutal move by Jackson Adams, the ladder, and the chair!

AWOL is just hanging from the ladder at this point, his eyes rolling to the back of his head now with the crowd still screaming, slapping the barricades and going nuts at this point. Due to the move Jackson is grasping at his ankle in pain, getting up slowly while a bloodied Desolation steps towards the prone AWOL delivering a swift kick right to his chest. The sound of the impact echoes throughout the arena while Hurse begins to slug him to the forehead repeatedly. That’s when Psycho stands up on the outside of the ring, having fetched something from beneath it. To cheers from the crowd, Psycho lifts a small black sack into the air, gesturing in its direction with blood streaming down his face. He smiles deviously before Hurse spots him on the outside of the ring, sticking his head through the ropes and reaching out for him. Psycho takes hold of the sack though and drives it against the side of the World Champion’s face. A gasp of pain comes from Hurse who falls onto his back, covering his features with both hands. The sadistic one slides into the ring now as Jackson charges at him only to be jabbed to the face, knocking him down hard to the canvas before Desolation bolts at him, receiving a boot to the side of his face. The Dark Man is taken down to the canvas across his back while Psycho steps forward and lifts the sack high into the air. Everyone is watching this with loud cheers as Psycho turns the sack upside down and spills out from within it, not only thumbtacks but shards of glass. They spill in a pile across the canvas as Psycho sticks his foot out, spreading them around.

Billy: Oh no, oh no. Why does this son of a bitch have to be so damned crazy? Must he keep upping the ante in this match?

Douglas: Psycho doesn’t have the concept of holding back, Billy. He’s going to do whatever it takes, and use whatever means in order to inflict pain upon the Alpha Generation, who have been his rivals for a very long time now.

Psycho is still scattering the glass and tacks around with his foot before he turns towards Hurse who steps in, slugging him to the face. The impact almost knocks Psycho over backwards into the tacks while blood flows down his face. The World Champion slugs him again to the jaw, trying his best to knock him in reverse into the deadly implements of destruction. Somehow Psycho keeps his feet planted beneath him though before Hurse rushes backwards into the ropes, bouncing off the cables and getting a running start. He comes charging in before jumping into the air, landing on top of Psycho’s shoulders for a hurricarana. The Sadistic One shakes his head though and keeps standing even with blood coursing down his frame before he turns to face the tacks and glass, about to powerbomb him onto them. Hurse is shaking his head no until he places his hands to the top of Psycho’s cranium, pushing himself up and over his skull, landing on his feet right behind his arch rival. A large smile cuts across his face, glad to have avoided plummeting into the sharp, pointy objects below before Psycho spins around, grabbing his arms. He wraps them around Hurse’s throat then drops backwards, flipping Hurse over in reverse with the Psychotic Episode and releasing him. This allows Hurse to crash face and chest first into the glass and tacks. The crowd is screaming as Hurse pushes himself up onto his knees, reaching up for his face slowly as small shards of glass and tacks have embedded themselves in his features. His fingers are shaking as they reach for the sharp, embedded objects protruding through his flesh.

Douglas: Ohhhh, Hurse into the tacks and glass! Psycho may have just disfigured the man who burnt his features so many years ago.

Mayne: Hurse! Hurse!! His GQ looks may have just been destroyed! Damn you Psycho, damn you!

A look of shock and agony still rests on the shivering body of Hurse while he rests on his knees, crouched over the glass and tacks before him. Psycho is laid on the canvas still while AWOL spills off the ladder, getting to his feet slowly while holding his forehead, which has been lacerated, a bit of crimson dripping down it. Just as he gets to his feet he turns to spot Hurse crouched over the tacks and glass then charges into the ropes at his side. He bounces off and comes rushing at Hurse before jumping into the air, extending his back outwards and dropping it right across the upper back and head of the World Champion, driving him down face first into the tacks as well as the glass. The crowd is screaming and gasping while Hurse flops onto his back, more tacks and glass sticking into his bloodied features. He’s flopping on the canvas, his hands stuck out in front of his features, once again shaking as a result of the impact into the sharp weaponry brought into the fray by an angry Sadistic One. AWOL turns and crawls into the cover, going right through the tacks and glass, not even worrying about it as he hooks the Champion’s leg.

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Hurse suddenly gets his shoulder up off the canvas, screams emanating from everyone in the building as AWOL sits up. A very tense, frustrated expression befalls his slightly bloodied face while remaining seated on the canvas. Psycho begins to stand up slowly now, bleeding as well before Jackson steps up in front of him, hooking up both of his arms. He now hoists Psycho up into the air and turns, driving him down face first into the canvas with the Double Take (Angel’s Wings). Psycho bounces off the canvas and rolls across the ring onto his back, lying motionless on the ring now while Jackson gets to his knees. Deep breaths come from his exasperated lungs before he turns to glare at AWOL also struggling to reach a standing base. He steps in quickly though, throwing a right hand into his face. Another hard right strike connects across the side of his face, AWOL almost taken down to the canvas as a result while Desolation crawls across the ring towards Hurse. Instead of helping out with the assault on AWOL he begins to pull glass and tacks from the Champion’s face. Jackson finally grabs AWOL around the neck, dragging him to his feet and then thrusting his arm across his chest, lifting a thumb upward into the air, signaling for the Spectacular Ending (C4). Just as he begins to lunge upward into the backwards flip AWOL connects with an elbow to the back of his head, stopping it from happening. The collision causes Jackson to stagger forward into the ropes, falling against them chest first before he turns to face AWOL who comes rushing in, throwing a big boot right at his face. An exhausted Jackson ducks it though, causing AWOL to rack himself groin first over the top rope. He reaches for his testicles wincing in pain before Adams comes charging in now, delivering his own big boot right to the side of AWOL’s face.

The GM is almost knocked to the outside of the ring but instead he puts both feet on the apron, wrapping his arms around the top cable. He keeps himself from tumbling to the outside while Adams grabs the GM By the back of the head, dragging his tired, battered frame towards the turnbuckle. Jackson steps up the corner still holding onto AWOL’s head, moving over the top rope now. He sits on top of the outside of the turnbuckle, dragging AWOL’s head into his armpit, setting up for a tornado DDT to the outside out of the ring. Before he can do it though, AWOL drags his head free then delivers a vicious slap to one side of Jackson’s face. He then delivers an equally as stiff slap to the other cheek, knocking Jackson through a loop before he grabs him by the hair. He pulls the back of Jackson’s head onto his shoulder then reaches out, grabbing the backs of both his knees, lifting him into the air in a muscle buster position. AWOL turns his back towards the ropes, holding Adams upside down on his shoulder before he drops off the apron and delivers the muscle buster on the apron. Jackson crashes with tremendous force on the back of his head and shoulders across the hard ring apron, folded up like an accordion with a massive outburst coming from the surprised, stunned fans.

Fans: YOU KILLED ADAMS, YOU KILLED ADAMS!!

Douglas: The muscle buster on the apron! Jackson Adams may have been broken to pieces!

Mayne: Jackson is suppose to be indestructible, this isn’t suppose to happen to him! Damn you AWOL, damn you to depths of hell! He just tried to do nothing short of kill Adams! What kind of man gives another individual the muscle buster on the apron?

Douglas: The violence in this tag team match has been unparalleled, these guys are legitimately trying to kill one another.

Bodies are lying everyone in the ringside area and in the squared circle as AWOL turns around to face the interior of the ring. That’s when Desolation comes charging in, diving through the ropes and somehow catching AWOL around the neck. He pulls him around and delivers a tornado DDT that slams AWOL hard head first into the outside mats. Both men are laid out now, bleeding and bloodied, much like the majority of the other opponents in this tag team warfare match, which is now receiving a loud standing ovation. Somehow Hurse is trying to get back to his feet in the ring, beaten, bloodied and embedded with numerous pointed objects when Chapel re-enters the ring. He steps in and delivers a boot to the side of Hurse’s heard, knocking him back down to the canvas and then grabbing him by the hair. The War Angel takes hold of his wrist and whips him with all of his strength straight at the ladder in the corner. Hurse ducks his head and crashes into it with enough force to send him rolling up the rungs and then flipping over in reverse, landing right back on his feet. He staggers in reverse, directly into the arms of Chapel, who places him in a reverse crucifix almost, lifting him up into the air. The War Angel is set for the Crucifer before Hurse wraps his legs around Chapel’s waist then falls forward. He doesn’t roll Chapel up though, instead he reaches out, wrapping his arms around his leg and then causes his opponent to fall face first into the canvas. Hurse stands up, holding onto the leg and quickly applies the ankle lock on that same damaged ankle that was targeted by Pat Evans. The fans are screaming as Chapel pushes himself up onto his elbows, roaring in a tremendous amount of pain. Hurse is twisting at the ankle repeatedly while standing up behind Chapel, demanding that he tap out, that he give up. The King of Monsters is shaking his head “no” though, refusing to give up, not giving into the temptation to tap out. Finally he ducks his head and rolls forward, sending Hurse flying in that same direction as he tried to keep hold of the ankle. As soon as he soars forward, the Master of Control slams viciously head first into the ladder in the corner, bouncing off then crashing onto his back.

Once again just about everyone is out cold while Chapel starts to push himself up to his feet, grabbing the ropes to assist himself in doing so. He reaches a standing base and turns towards the ring right as Desolation enters, the bloodied Dark Man charging in then jumping into the air. He hits the leg lariat on the War Angel, taking them both over the ropes backwards. Chapel is sent flipping over though, crashing hard onto the outside mats with Desolation landing seat first on the apron. He holds onto the cables for support while dragging himself to his feet, beginning to slide through the ropes though in order to re-enter the ring. That’s before Psycho steps in, grabbing him around the neck and dragging him through the cables so that his ankles are placed over the middle one. He’s holding him in the front chancery before the sadistic one drops back, delivering an elevated DDT off the cables. Desolation bounces off the top of his head with tremendous force, flipping over and crashing onto his spine with the entire arena watching on in shock. Psycho gets to his hands and knees, diving into the cover.

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No! Desolation kicks out in the nick of time, leaving both him and his bloodied opponent lying side by side. Neither man seems capable of moving much at this point after all the brutality they’re bodies have endured. The only thing Psycho can do is roll away from the Dark Man while remaining on his spine in the center of the ring, amongst all the vast chaos consuming it.

Mayne: And just like at so many points in this match Dan, absolutely everyone is laid out, rather they’re in the ring or not. There’s not a creature stirring, not even a mouse. Hey, that was good, I need to write this down somewhere.

Douglas: Leave it to you to rip off something that’s been in existence for decades now Billy. But your right, absolutely everyone in this match is laid out at this point, nobody is moving after the absolute brutality that they’ve inflicted upon one another. I don’t know.....hey, hold on a tick, what is this all about?

Through the curtains steps a somber, weeping Robin Brooks down the ramp. The X-Class Champion marches towards the ring with a very sad expression on her face while the squared circle and all those around it. She does so briefly before lowering her head and maintaining her march towards the ring where so many bodies are laid out, incapable of moving.

Douglas: Robin Brooks coming to the ring, and just like on the last Riot! she does not look very happy, or upbeat.

Mayne: Would you be if the man you loved was beaten and bloodied in the ring? I don’t know why this foul temptress has got to come out here and distract everyone though. The poor, loveable Adams was right when he called her nothing more than a distraction.

Robin suddenly looks up at the ring with a very intense expression on her face while Jackson rolls back into the squared circle. She seems to be eyeing him as his battered, possibly broken body ends up sprawled across the canvas. Her features twist while she climbs up onto the apron, the Black Widow climbing to the top rope of a nearby turnbuckle with the fans beginning to cheer.

Douglas: Uh oh, wait a minute, it looks like Robin may be out for a little bit of revenge.

Mayne: No, no, I knew she was nothing but a cold hearted bitch, get out of here Robin, don’t do something Hurse is going to make you regret!

Robin stabilizes herself on the turnbuckle, glaring at Adams before tears begin to build in her eyes again. Finally she turns and jumps from the top rope, flipping through the air before connecting with the Flying Star right on top of Psycho!

Douglas: WHAT!?! No, Robin just gave the Flying Star to Psycho, her former teammate!

Mayne: Hahahaha, she’s proving her love to Hurse, hahahaha!

After hitting the shooting star press on Psycho, who goes into convulsions, Robin rolls across the ring, spilling to the outside of it on her feet before running up the ramp. Her hands cover her eyes while tears stream down them, immediately regretting what she was just forced to do. In the ring Jackson rolls over and drapes his arm across Psycho’s chest with the fans screaming as loud as they can.

Dan: Not this way, not this way!

Mayne: Hahahaha, this is great, this is great!

Killjoy appears from the back, stepping towards Robin who has stopped on the stage crying. He takes her by the hand and disgustedly leads her to the backstage area. The referee drops and makes the count with the fans screaming in anger.

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3!

The entire arena bursts into a wave of boos, everyone outraged by the verdict of this contest, Adams pinning Psycho in the center of the ring thanks to an emotionally unstable Robin Brooks.

Douglas: No! Dammit, no! The Alpha Generation have just beaten team IWC, this is outrageous, absolutely outrageous!

Mayne: Yes, the Alpha Gen have won the war, they’ve won the war! Hahahaha, ceeeelllllebrate good times, come on!

The fans are still booing and now throwing various items in the ring, Adams being drenched with sodas that spill all over the ring. Everyone in the building is just livid over the way this violent, bloody match turned out. Desolation quickly grabs Jackson under the arm, hoisting him up to his feet then taking him by the wrist, lifting it into the air. Adams falls over though, Desolation forced to catch him as both men almost lose their footing completely. AWOL has slid back into the ring now with claret flowing down his face as both Desolation and Jackson drop to the canvas, rolling under the ropes to the outside. Actually, the Dark Man is forced to drag Jackson under the cables and now throw him over his shoulders to carry him while bloodied and battered himself. Hurse and crawls across the mats towards his teammates while Too Magnificent does the same, neither individual capable of standing at this point. Adams and Desolation fall to the ramp on their posteriors while glaring into the ring in shock while AWOL stands there, bleeding slightly from the face in great anger. Jon Rich has gotten to his knees, his back killing him while staring through the cables in anger. Chapel has forced himself up to an upright base as well on the outside of the ring, seething in anger while leaning against the apron. Finally Psycho has rolled to his side, blooded and battered, watching on with absolute disgust permeating from every inch of his battered frame. His features tremble with rage while the four Alpha Generation members attempt to claw their way to their feet, falling and tumbling over one another’s wrecked, bloodied, and battered bodies.

Douglas: This night has not ended the way I would have thought it would in a million years. I can’t believe the Alpha Generation have weaseled their way to victory here tonight, and the way they did it was reprehensible.

Mayne: Like it or not, the Alpha Generation have emerged victorious from this war.

Dan: More like survived it.

The Alpha Generation are still celebrating while blood leaks down their exhausted, bruised, and lacerated faces. Inside the squared circle the roster is furious, but not crushed, their rage only continuing to grow.

Dan: Well regardless of the way this match turned out, this has still been a spectacular, one of a kind evening. What a night Born Again has turned out to be, our first pay-per-view has delivered on everything it promised to be.

Mayne: With an ending I’ll never, ever forget, mwahahahaha. What a show.

Dan: Is this truly the conclusion of this war? What will happen with this S.K individual? Is the alliance between Creed and Cruze truly on stable footing? What’s next for new arrivals Christian Savior and Riley Addison? Who’s going to be Pat Evans’ next victim? I hope we find out the answers on the next IWC telecast. What an evening, what an evening.

Billy: Celebrate, celebrate!

Team IWC continue to glare at the Alpha Generation who stagger up the ramp in reverse, forcing smiles to their faces now while they stand victorious, bloodied, but victorious.