RIOT!

The show comes live to the inside of the arena where the fans are deeply excited, nay enthralled. They are going nuts at the thought of the impending violence that shall ensue, thrusting their signs above their heads while lights dance around them. The excitement on their faces tells the whole story of the evening before the camera shifts to the ringside area where a dumpster is set up.

Dan Douglas: Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come, it is here, it is now, this is Riot!

The cameras continue to cut between the anxious fans, really anticipating what should be a special evening, just one week removed from IWC’s very first pay-per-view, Born Again.

Billy Mayne: Thanks for fulfilling your one job requirement where your suppose to introduce me then piss off. But yeah, the man meat of the broadcast table is speaking now, this is Billy Mayne, seated by a person with the charisma of a rock, Dan Douglas on a night I’m so anxious for my palms are actually getting sweaty.

Dan: Yeah, and hairy too. I have mixed emotions about this evening, considering what transpired last week with AWOL, meaning the Alpha Generation are in control tonight.

Mayne: Who wouldn’t be excited about that Dan? This show will be the single greatest telecast we’ve ever seen. Mark my words, this will be a night nobody forgets.

Dan: That’s what I’m worried about.

NATHAN CREED VS. TOO MAGNIFICENT
DUMPSTER MATCH

Tension fills the air in anticipation of the next superstar to enter the ring when the lights dim down. Strobes float around the arena as the opening chords of ‘Polyamorous’ by Breaking Benjamin fill the arena

“LETS GOOOOOOOO!!!”

The vocals are screamed as the song kicks up a gear and Nathan walks through the curtains to the cheers of the local fans. He psyches himself up and he slowly approaches the ring, the lights flickering around him. As he nears the ring the chorus kicks in and Nathan prepares to dash for the ring, past the dumpster that is positioned beside it. That’s before a steel chair is swung hard into his spine from Too Magnificent, the crowd groaning as the Alpha Generation member rushed out behind him, getting the drop on the Future. Creed arches his back, staggering forward and then turning around right as the steel is swung violently into his head. The crowd screams as Creed collapses in a heap on his back, reaching for his face while a smiling Too Magnificent throws down the steel chair.

Douglas: Oh no, this is a hell of a way for our opening match to start tonight, and should be an indication of what we’re going to come to expect from the Alpha Generation this evening.

Mayne: It’s strategy Dan, plain and simple. You attack someone when their not expecting it. This is really Nathan’s fault for not minding his surroundings.

Dan: That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard, and this night is only just getting started.

Creed is on his back, laid out completely after being slammed repeatedly over the back and cranium with the chair. Too Magnificent smiles while grabbing Creed around the head, rolling him to his knees then standing him up before slapping on a front gantry. Before Creed even has time to contemplate countering he’s hoisted into the air and suplexed right on top of the steel ramp. Creed shouts out in pain while sitting up, reaching for his back, Too Magnificent having the decisive advantage. He rises and stomps the Future to the back of the head then grabs him around the chin, rolling him to his feet. After slugging him to the forehead he grabs hold of Creed’s hair and drags him to a standing base, blood already seeping out from the cut in Nathan’s forehead.

Both men step to the side of the dumpster and now Too Magnificent pulls Creed back then launches him head first into the hard metal exterior of the trash collecting device. Nathan bashes off it violently and staggers away with a very confused expression on his face when Too Mag bends forward, catching him gut first against his shoulder while hoisting him into the air. A loud roar comes from Too Mag as he charges Nathan spine first right into the dumpster wall, causing the Future to yell out in anguish and fall to his knees in pain, his back still absolutely throbbing. Too Mag quickly kicks him to the side of the face though, knocking him onto his back while continuing to stay on the advantage.

Mayne: Too Magnificent is just dominating Nathan Creed right now. He’s breaking him down methodically, and he’s already even got Creed busted open. I love how the AG operates.

Douglas: None of this would even be possibly if Too Magnificent hadn’t attacked Creed on the entrance ramp. This is no way for our show to start. No way whatsoever, it’s just serving as an indication for how the rest of the evening is going to be.

Creed gets to his elbows and knees, blood still trickling down his face before Too Magnificent charges forward, going for a kick on his head. Instead of connecting though Nathan stands up while hunched forward and grabs him around the legs, taking them out from under him. Too Mag’s body collapses onto the mats spine first before Nathan lifts the legs up under his armpits, trying to turn the AG member over into the Courtesy Call already. The fans are screaming as loud as they can as Nathan tries his best to establish the submission but can’t get Too Mag over onto his gut. Therefore he changes things up and instead drops in reverse, catapulting Too Magnificent through the air and sending him flying face first right into the hard steel side of the dumpster. After the collision he staggers in reverse, knocked through a loop as Nathan gets up and clamps his arms around his waist, dropping back into a German that slams Too Mag’s body with force into the thin protective mats. The crowd groans and ohs at the sight of Too Mag connecting with force against the mats, flipping over in reverse right onto his chest and stomach. He appears completely taken out of it while Nathan sluggishly rises to his feet then approaches the apron, climbing up on top of it. Creed is the closest to the ring that either of the two men have been throughout this entire match thus far. Nathan now steadies himself then jumps off the apron with an extension of his leg, connecting with a leg drop right across the back of Too Mag’s head. Again Too Magnificent is going into convulsions on the canvas, flopping around like he were a dying fish gasping for air. Much like Too Mag though Nathan shows no mercy, quickly stomping him to the back of the skull, causing him to roll onto his back, completely exposed. While in this prone position Nathan backs up and finds that his spine hits the dumpster, turning to face it with blood dribbling down an expression that now indicates Creed has devious intentions. Knowing full well that Too Mag is down and quite literally out of this match, Creed jumps onto the apron and slams the door shut on the dumpster, climbing up it so he can get on top.

He climbs on top of the shut doors, standing on the roof of the dumpster while glaring down at Too Magnificent who is still completely exposed while he lies on the mats. Nathan now looks out over the fans then makes a cut throat motion in homage to one Chris Benoit that causes the crowd to start going nuts. That’s when Creed steps forward and launches himself off the dumpster, flying gracefully through the air before connecting with a swan dive headbunt right to Too Mag’s sternum, launching himself off the top of the dumpster. The fans react with cheers, everyone going nuts over what they just witnessed while Too Mag writhes on the mats, trying to cover his sternum in a great deal of pain.

Dan: Ohhh, a huge swan dive headbunt from Nathan Creed right off the top of the dumpster, amazing.

Mayne: He never would have hit that if Too Magnificent weren’t super glued to the mats.

Douglas: WHAT!?!

Billy: Yes, I imagine Nathan cheated and used a super adhesive to keep Too Mag in that prone state.

Dan: That, that doesn’t even make sense!

Nathan has rolled onto his back, both hands placed to his bloodied forehead before he shakes off the effects of connecting with Too Mag’s sternum. The AG member is gasping while he rolls towards the ring, desperately trying to get up. Before he can Nathan grabs him by the back of the tights and head, charging him at the ring and rolling him in under the ropes. It’s clear Creed is now dominating this match while he stumbles towards the squared circle and rolls in himself. As soon as he gets to his knee though, Too Mag stands and steps in with a hard punch right to his forehead. Creed is almost knocked to the canvas before Too Mag drags him to his feet and takes him by the wrist, backing him into the ropes. The master of the Midas Touch launches him off across the ring before Nathan turns, trying to reverse it. Instead Too Magnificent steps in for a short arm clothesline that Nathan ducks, switching around behind his opponent and wrapping his arms around his waist. He’s setting up for a big German before Too Magnificent back elbows him right to the face. This breaks up the attempt at the German before Too Mag spins around and kicks Creed hard to the gut, quickly placing him in a front chancery before dropping back into a hard DDT. The impact and force of the collision causes Nathan to bounce off the canvas and drop onto his back, looking out of it. Instinctively, Too Mag crawls in for the cover.

Referee Michael Hannigan jumps in and informs Too Mag that he can’t get the win that way, which infuriates the Alpha Generation member. Too Mag scowls at the official then rises to his feet, pointing into his face, demanding he start calling this right down the middle then informing the referee that he’s the one calling the shots tonight. Too Magnificent then shoves him aside and steps towards the ropes, slipping through them onto the apron before grabbing the door to the dumpster. He throws it up into the air, reaching inside and grabbing a trash can out of it that causes the crowd to begin booing furiously.

Douglas: What the hell is a trash can doing inside of a dumpster?

Mayne: I think this thing is filled with all kinds of goodies. Or maybe it’s like one of those Chinese dolls, you take it apart and there’s always a smaller one inside. Maybe inside that trash can is a lint basket or something.

Nathan is trying to get up in the ring, holding his forehead in a lot of pain as blood continues to dribble down it in a solid stream. Right as he gets to his feet he turns to face Too Magnificent who rushes in, lifting the trash can above his head for a strike to his skull. Before he can connect, Creed chops him with force right across the sternum, causing the crowd to groan. Too Magnificent drops the trash can and staggers in reverse, putting his arms across his chest in pain. Anger fills his face before he comes rushing in at Nathan now, throwing a boot square at his head. Thinking on his feet, Nathan ducks the boot then turns to face Too Mag’s spine, burying his shoulder against it. With a heave and a grunt, Nathan hoists the large Too Mag into the air and drops him back first right on top of the trash can. The steel dents in around Too Mag’s body and causes the crowd to start going nuts. Too Magnificent begins to writhe in agony on the canvas while Creed rolls to his knees, getting to his feet then pointing towards the dumpster, the doors still open thanks to the Alpha Gen member.

Dan: Nathan signaling that this match is about over.

Mayne: You don’t know that, maybe he sees an old pear of stained underpants that he threw out years ago in there.

Douglas: I highly doubt it.

It’s clear that Too Mag doesn’t have much to anything left to offer in form of competition after being driven hard into that trash can, which is why Nathan quickly descends upon him. Grasping hold of Too Mag’s hair, Creed pulls him to his feet and begins to drag him towards the dumpster quickly. Right as they reach the area directly in front of the ropes the arena begins to darken, the crowd becoming very confused, very bewildered, for the only real light emanates from the big screen. Creed is momentarily distracted from this, forgetting his intention of throwing Too Mag into the dumpster in favor of examining the titontron as well. Suddenly the letters “S.K” appear on the screen, glowing brightly.

Mayne: What in the world? SK? That’s the same message that appeared during Orlando’s entrance last week. These advertisements have horrible timing. I know they pay the bills, but man, come on, at least wait for a commercial.

Douglas: I don’t think that’s what this is at all Billy. I do believe someone is trying to send a message to Nathan, just like they intended to get something to Cruze last week. I can’t make since of this though.

The letters S.K continue to glow on the screen before a small sub heading appears beneath it. The words “Revenge Is A Bitch,” appear below the original message but vanish just as quickly. The lights in the building return to normal while Creed mouths the words he just read off the titontron repeatedly, trying to make sense out of all this. That’s when Too Magnificent low blows him from behind, launching a forearm directly into his testicles. Creed bends forward, shouting in tremendous pain while Too Mag gets up behind him, grabbing the back of his head and tights. He charges him at the ropes then throws him through them, sending Creed flying over the apron before turning as he crashes inside of the dumpster. A smiling Too Mag stands up, realizing all that is left to do is close the door and he will be victorious in this contest.

Mayne: Whatever that messages’ intention was, I like it already.

Douglas: Nathan distracted by somebody playing games, and now it may have cost him the victory. All that’s left for Too Magnificent to do is close that lid and he’ll be victorious.

Clearly frazzled and not that stable on his feet, Too Magnificent staggers towards the ropes, stepping through them onto the apron. He now bends forward before reaching out, grabbing hold of the lid, hunched over the dumpster. He stares down inside with a big smile on his face before a neon budweiser sign is busted right over top of his head. The fans react with shock over what they just witnessed, pieces of glass flying through the air and what remains of the sign stuck around Too Mag’s head. His eyes flutter then roll to the back of his head while Creed climbs up onto the apron and out of the dumpster. Blood begins to collect across Too Mag’s scalp before he’s placed in a front gantry, Nathan grinding his teeth as he lifts him up into the air. Creed only holds him upside down for a moment before turning and dropping him with a release suplex right into the dumpster. To ensure he doesn’t fall inside as well, Nathan holds onto the top rope with his free hand and remains standing on the apron. Too Magnificent is now lying inside, completely motionless, barely showing any signs that he’s coherent. Although battered, bruised, and bloodied, Nathan turns, reaching out and grabbing the dumpster lid before slamming it shut, the bell officially sounding in the background.

Mayne: Noo, dammit, this wasn’t suppose to be how things started tonight. Creed was suppose to job to Too Mag like he does every week.

Douglas: Nathan gladly proved you wrong Billy, because even after being jumped from behind, he slammed that lid shut and is now standing victorious.

Billy: Why did he have to lessen my enjoyment of Budweiser beer in the process? I’ll never be able to drink myself into a stupor the same way again. I hope your happy Creed!

The fans are all cheering loudly for Nathan as his music hits the PA system once more, lifting his arm slowly into the air in a victorious pose. Even with blood dribbling down his face and conflicted over the message that appeared on the titontron, he’s able to muster up some joy over this victory.

THE AG CORDIALLY INVITE YOU TO RIOT!

After all the chaos and commotion that transpired in this opening match between Creed and Too Magnificent, the fans are incapable of simmering down, greatly pumped up and enthused. Nothing can stop the momentum to which the show has gotten off to before the titontron again comes to life. This time, instead of showing some type of cryptic message though something equally as detestable appears, the faces of World Heavyweight Champion Hurse, “The Dark Man” Desolation standing at one side of him, and Jackson Adams located at the other. The trio are wearing suits with smiles on their faces as they stare directly into the camera, thus bringing their features to everyone’s sights who are crammed into the arena, rather they want to see them or not. The arrogance on their faces matches the expensive tanned suits clinging to their frames. The only item that detracts from their power suits is the glistening World title draped over Hurse’s shoulder.

Douglas: Oh no, as if the show couldn’t get off to any worse of a start tonight.

Mayne: Look, it’s the Alpha Generation, and they’re wearing suits. That means they’re serious.

Douglas: If only that meant they’d be acting more professional, unfortunately I know it’s not what the suits indicate.

Desolation smiles widely, uncharacteristic to the usual menacing aurora that emanates from his features.

Desolation: Well hello there IWC fans, those of you who either staggered in from the Methadone clinic next door or mistakenly purchased tickets to this event when you meant to go to the Ghallager comeback tour. If you’ve been living under a rock for the past few months, which is actually a pretty good possibility considering who we’re dealing with here, then you wouldn’t know who we are and what we’re doing here. So allow me to properly introduce ourselves. We are the Alpha Generation, and if you couldn’t tell by the power ties yet, we’re the ones controlling the faits of each and every wrestler on the roster tonight. Or to spell it out for you, since that’s apparently what it’s going to take for you to understand, now that the last obstacle has been removed, the Alpha Generation are in control of tonight’s show.

The smiles widen on their faces as the boos only escalate in intensity.

Douglas: Well thanks for rubbing it in.

Mayne: It’s an announcement so nice it needs to be made again, and again, and again. I’m going to DVR this whole segment and keep replaying it.

The smirking, confident Desolation turns his attention towards Adams, who picks off where the Dark Man left off. Hurse just keeps staring forward, waiting for his cue.

Jackson: No, don’t turn up your hearing aids or try to clean the crud out of your ears that’s been festering there since before birth, Desolation didn’t stutter, you heard him clear as day. Last week, we took matters into our own hands to ensure that the IWC wouldn’t continue going into the same downward spiral that it has over the past few months. Last week we did something that was long overdo. We accomplished a task that will save the IWC in the long run. We removed the cancerous element that had been eating away at the IWC for so long, draining it of any and all entertainment value the company had to offer. Which is very little when the AG is relegated to a meager thirty to forty minutes of airtime each week. I mean, what’s up with that?

More boos come from the crowd while Desolation sighs and Hurse just shakes his head shamefully at the mere thought of it. Finally Adams gets back to his original point though.

Adam: But I digress. It was on our last telecast that we took it upon our shoulders to save the IWC, how did we do it? Well, let’s just allow the video package to do our talking for us. Minions, roll the footage!

Adams finger extends threateningly towards the camera before the titontron cuts to a new image. One might be almost thankful that the Alpha Generation are no longer the focus of attention, before they’re forced to realize what they must bear witness to next. A recap of last week’s events are shown as Adams stumbles up the ramp in reverse, sweating and aching from head to toe before....

I HOPE YOU’RE SATISFIED

....Hits over the PA system and AWOL emerges through the curtains behind him. The General Manager burns a hole into the back of his head with a set of piercing, maniacal eyes, Adams backing up with a look of terror on his face. His palms are extended outward, begging off while Adams provides a voice over in the background.

Adams: Now see here is where I was luring AWOL into a false sense of security. I was the bait, serving to ensnare him in our trap. After all, you’d never see me act like that much of a cowardly puss, right, right....?

Sense there is no response in the background, Adams goes on, his voice a little more timid. On the screen AWOL is shown standing over Adams who has fallen to his rear, scooting away with his hands extended outward.

Adams: But this is where the plot thickens. Right here, right here! Wait for it, wait for it. Bam!

On the screen Desolation rushes out behind AWOL and breaks a board over the back of his leg, the crowd screaming as a result. Laughter can be heard from all three Alpha Generation members in the background.

Jackson: It gets even better, keep watching, keep watching, and remember, this was done for you, the fans.

It cuts to AWOL being stood up by Adams and Desolation then charged across the stage and thrown off, sending him flying through tables and electrical equipment below.

Jackson: Oh that was beautiful, replay that, replay that right now! Now I said!

The clip is shown again, AWOL being thrown off the stage and sent plummeting through the tables below as sparks come off the electrical equipment. Again it’s replayed from several different perspectives before finally cutting back to Jackson Adams smiling face while standing beside Hurse and Desolation in what use to be GM AWOL’s office. All three men try to hold back laughing over what they did last week. The World Champion wipes a fake tear from his eye.

Hurse: Oh, that was priceless, priceless stuff. That was better than Bob Saget stand up comedy, whew that was good. I haven’t laughed this hard in years, which is odd, sense I’m not really laughing. But the point is IWC fans, what we did last week you might not understand or necessarily agree with, but it’s what had to be done. We can’t have this federation being tore apart with some silly war that AWOL is trying to get started. Everything will work out much better, and run along much more smoothly if one dominate force controls the whole establishment instead of everything being pulled apart by AWOL’s jealousy and power hungry nature. That’s why we removed him, because he was killing what the three of us, and Too Magnificent, worked so hard to create. We got rid of him last week to ensure that the IWC would continue to exist. Rather you want to believe it or not, the problem around here isn’t us, it was him. AWOL was selfish.

Desolation: He was conniving.

Adams: He was trying to use the roster to accomplish his own goals.

All three men shake their heads at the mere thought of it before Hurse quickly continues, forcing that same insincere smile to his face.

Hurse: But thanks to us, you no longer have to worry about him. As well as a few other things this evening, because unlike AWOL we actually know what we’re doing, we’re capable of keeping this whole roster in line. As well as doing the same with those who aren’t on the roster, gentlemen such as Killjoy. A man who has no contract, thus has no reason for being here in this building. So instead of living under the threat of a lawsuit he would bring against us for possibly harming a member of the staff, or heaven forbid one of you wonderful fans, we’ve decided to simply ban him from the arena. For our safety, but more importantly for yours.

Desolation: Yeah, I mean, who knows what kind of damage he’ll do with that body odor and those emo like promos.

Hurse shudders at the thought, it almost makes him queasy in fact. Since the mere thought of Killjoy makes him want to upchuck he motions for Desolation to continue where he left off. The Dark Man grins and turns towards the camera once more.

Desolation: But not only have we taken the liberty of ridding the IWC of both AWOL, and Killjoy, for your viewing pleasure we’ve also flown in the most talented tag team on the independent scene. But chances are you’ve never heard of them since the majority of you probably have never even seen a wrestling move before tonight, or didn’t even realize what you were watching was actually wrestling. So for those of you who didn’t know, which is most likely all of you, our opponents tonight are the two scoops of terror themselves, Los Ice Creams. Yay!

Desolation gives a thumbs up towards the camera while Hurse finally pipes in again.

Hurse: Yes, that’s right, instead of being a couple of corrupt officials....

Adams: *cough* AWOL *cough*.

Hurse: Get yourself checked out for that cough Adams....

Hurse scowls at Jackson who looks up at the champion, trying to explain what he just did before mouthing the words “oh forget it.”

Hurse: Unlike a couple of corrupt dictators, we’re not going to give ourselves some long rest period before Born Again. Oh no, we’re determined to step into that ring each and every week to put on the best match possible, again all for the benefit of you, the fans.

The Champion’s finger is extended towards the camera with a serious expression on his face. The Dark Man reaches out tentatively and pushes down on Hurse’s finger while patting him on the back, the Champion not taking his eyes off the camera though to add to the effect of his seriousness.

Desolation: You heard the man with the shinny belt over his shoulder correctly. Tonight, we’re not going to be like Orlando Cruze and phone in it because we know there’s a big PPV coming up. We’re going to go out there and put on a show, we’re going to get ready for our 8 man tag match the best way we know how, by challenging ourselves, by pushing ourselves to the limit tonight.

Hurse and Adams nod with smiles on their faces at the sound of this, agreeing whole heartedly with Desolation’s bullshit comments. Jackson then places his arm over the Champion’s shoulders while all three men lean in closely towards one another to glare straight into the camera lens.

Jackson: So ladies and gentlemen, sit back, relax, and enjoy a night that promises to be extravagant, magical, and brilliant all rolled into one. A night that the rest of the IWC roster will surely remember for a very long time, hahahaha.

Hurse: I couldn’t have put it more sinisterly myself.

A chuckle comes from all three Alpha Generation members as the camera zooms in on them and the World title hanging over Hurse’s shoulder.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

HIT AND RUN

An expensive vehicle pulls into the backstage parking lot, screeching to a halt within the cement confines. The sounds of the breaks squealing as it halts echoing throughout the large enclosure as the headlights cut out and the door pops open. From within the vehicle emerges none other than Aurora Rose to a huge amount of fanfare from the jam-packed Manhatten Center. As soon as her feet hit the concrete she rises to a standing base and makes her way to the trunk, which pops open as she aims her keys at it and presses a button. A phone is pressed to her ear while she speaks urgently and in a bit of anger.

Aurora: Yes, that’s what I’m telling you, the calls have started again, and they’ve gotten much more twisted. Can’t you guys like trace them or anything?

Aurora grabs her bags out of the trunk and throws them over her shoulders, quickly slamming the trunk and moving towards the entrance to the arena. It’s clear that she’s running late, thus picking up her pace as she passes several vehicles parked at her sides.

Rose: I can’t give you a time that they’ll be calling, it’s at random. Aren’t you people suppose to protect and serve? What are you paid for? Maybe I should handle this myself then.

She’s clearly disgusted with the lack of assistance from the police concerning the obscene phone calls she’s been receiving, and now the strange arrival of the man dressed in the Michael Myers costume who assaulted her last week. Therefore she just hangs up her phone and keeps heading for the inside of the building, so wrapped up in her problems she doesn’t even seem concerned about the impending match tonight. Just as she’s about to enter though a steel chair is swung violently into her back. The force of the blow sends her flying forward face first into the double doors, bashing off before she tumbles onto her side across the concrete. The crowd is groaning and screaming in anger as Pat Evans now waltzes forward into the camera’s frame, the chair hanging from his grasp. As he eyes Aurora he seems somewhat pleased, happy with himself for what he’s done to his opponent this Sunday at Born Again. The chair slips from his hands to the ground below while Aurora groans in agony, arching her spine and reaching for the back of her neck. Evans hovers over her, bending forward to stare deeply into her pain ravaged eyes.

Evans: Awwww, no, did Aurora fall down and hurt herself? How sad. I hope she’s still going to be ready for this Sunday. I’d hate to think she was too injured to compete.

A smile creeps across Pat’s face while he rises to his feet, still glaring down at Aurora who is grimacing in tremendous pain. Her body is twisted thanks to that devastating steel chair shot as Evans blows her a kiss then steps through the doors to the arena, leaving her a mess. Aurora grimaces as she tries to stand up, but can’t thanks to that thunderous chair shot.

MAX POWER VS. NOBU-KUN

The opening cords of Drivers high begins to play and the lights begin to flicker on and then off and the music kicks in to the first verse where Nobu-kun walks out from behind to loud cheering from both female fan and a few male ones. He walks carefully towards the ring intill the song hit’s “coolest drivers high” and the pyrotechnic begin from all the ring posts as Nobu-kun slides in and throws his hands up in the air.

Mayne: I still can’t believe that this guy is employed here in the IWC. It’s just not fair that this disgrace has a job when worthwhile talents like Ward Hawn don’t.

Douglas: Oh come on, Nobu-kun really proved himself last week in that very intense triple threat match to earn his spot on the roster.

Billy: He won because one of his ass cheeks slipped out from beneath his school girl skirt and distracted Ward long enough to be pinned. That isn’t earning anything!

Dan: Well, regardless of how he won that match, he’s got a job here, and should make an excellent addition to the X-Class division in the IWC. And by the way, we’re receiving word that help has arrived backstage for Aurora Rose as we speak, and are checking on her condition after what Pat Evans did to her a few moments ago.

Mayne: I think I’ll have to DVR that scene too and keep replaying it for my amusement, hahaha.

Nobu-kun is standing in one of the corners, rubbing his hands together gleefully while glaring towards the entry way, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his opponent, one Max Craven, the man he planted a smooch on several weeks ago. 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.

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.

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, 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. Nobu-kun is overlooking him, terribly confused as to why this man is here and not Max Craven, who captured his obvious affections several weeks ago. Nevertheless, Nobu-kun seems to be smitten with the superhero, blushing in his direction. Mistress MERCY points into the ring at Nobu-kun, insisting that stop looking at Max Power in such a fashion.

Dan: Well, in typical IWC standards something happens that makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. Apparently, instead of Max Craven coming out here, it’s going to be Max Power, accompanied by Mistress MERCY, and neither of them seem very comfortable with the leering eyes of Nobu-kun, imbued with super powers or not.

Mayne: Should they be? I know you’re an advocate for those who enter through the back door, and have looked into transgender operations numerous times before Dan, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the world is comfortable stepping into the ring with this guy. Especially Max Power, knowing fully well that Nobu-kun has some kind of grotesque attraction to his good friend, Max Craven. Hey, how about that, they both have the same first name.

Power is backed into one of the corners, gesturing towards Nobu-kun and demanding the referee do something about his leering eyes, and his diabolical behavior. The official shrugs his shoulders, unable to do anything about it before motioning for the bell. Both Power and Nobu-kun step forward and begin to circle one another, Max appearing almost tentative while his opponent skips gingerly around the ring, swinging his arms at his sides. He waves his fingers femininely in Power’s direction before Max shakes his head, demanding that he stop toying around and they lock up. He even goes as far to bury his fists against his hips and puff out his chest, sticking his jaw outward as well. Knobu-kun’s eyes grow wide and the sound of this demand before he nods both men stepping forward finally and locking up with MERCY screaming Max’s praises. Both men fight for position against one another in this collar elbow tie even though Max greatly outweighs his much tinier opponent. He now uses his brute, super hero strength to shove Nobu-kun forcefully down to the canvas. Nobu-kun flips over and almost flies through the ropes as a result before Power spins in a circle and thrusts his forearm out in front of himself, again perfecting the superhero stance.

Mayne: It’s times like these I wish I had a camera, it’s not often you see a superhero in action.

Douglas: If this guy’s a superhero I’m Rosanne Barr, and last time I checked I wasn’t an overweight, loud mouthed, over opinionated, domestic diva.

Billy: Some might argue against that point.

Max now turns towards Nobu-kun and gives him the thumbs up with a big goofy grin plastered over his face. The young Japanese star rises to his feet, nodding with those same leering eyes. He jumps forward and they both lock up again in a collar elbow tie. Power now grabs Nobu-kun’s arm, swinging around under it, placing him in the arm ringer submission. That’s before Nobu-kun ducks his head and rolls forward across the canvas, right onto his feet. He then turns towards Max and swings around under his arm, reversing the arm ringer into one of his own. He then pulls the arm around behind Power’s back, placing him in the hammerlock submission, really wrenching at the arm. Power bends forward to escape it when Nobu-kun steps forward, trying to wrap his arms around Max’s neck in order to apply the side headlock. Before he can though, Max sticks out of his legs, tripping his small opponent forward and causing him to hit the canvas face first. Power then jumps forward, grabbing Nobu-kun by the arm and lifting it up into the air, applying the arm ringer once more. He even makes sure to put on another heroic pose for his gracious, albeit booing fans.

An agitated but still smiling Nobu-kun rises to his feet, looking as if he’s having fun in there during this whole technical exchange with Power. As soon as he gets to his feet though he drops right back down to the canvas across his spine, turning his side towards Max then lifting his foot into the air. He places it to one of the wrist’s of Power that are gripping his arm before he kicks it away. Max’s hand is knocked off Nobu-kun’s arm before he rolls over backwards onto his feet. He then swings around under the other arm of Power, placing it in the arm ringer once again. That’s before he uses the meager bit of strength he has to pull Max forward and lock in a side headlock submission. Nobu-kun has the hold expertly applied, and seems to enjoy having Power’s face pushed against his barren nipple, sliding his skull up and down against it. Power becomes angered while bending forward, burying his shoulder into Nobu-kun’s spine, lifting him up into the air in a back drop position. As soon as he gets him up on his shoulder though, Nobu-kun only further applies the side headlock submission, keeping himself from being back dropped to the canvas. He then turns his body a bit and falls towards the canvas, flipping Power over into a side headlock takedown that causes the crowd to begin cheering. Nobu-kun has his spine pressed to Max’s chest while really clamping his arms about his neck in this submission then making a kissing motion towards his face with his puckered lips. Therefore Power quickly lifts his legs into the air, wrapping them around Nobu-kun’s head and pulling it down backwards into a leg scissors sleeper. That’s before Nobu-kun nips up out of the hold, Power rolling across the canvas to his knees as the nimble young Japanese sensation charges at him. Power reaches out though, catching Nobu-kun around the back of the knee and lifting up on it, causing him to trip over in reverse, crashing onto his back. Max gets up beside him and steps forward, placing his foot on Nobu-kun’s wrist then reaching down, grabbing hold of it. He lifts it into the air then pulls his opponent to his feet, swinging around under the arm and placing Nobu-kun in the arm ringer once again.

Douglas: A very nice series of counters between both of these men with Power finding himself right back in the driver’s seat with that textbook arm ringer. This is what the IWC X-Class division is all about, great wrestling.

Mayne: Uh duh! That’s what all the IWC is about, or at least tries to be about. All these wrestling clinics bore the ever living shit out of me. The only thing that interests me now is that we have a living, breathing, flesh and blood superhero in the ring right now. At least in the main event tonight we’ll get to see a match that really lives up to the hype.

Dan: The more you bring that damn tag team main event up the more I wish Nobu-kun would transfer his affections onto you.

Mayne: He probably already has, as I am pretty damn irresistible. I mean, I don’t spend thirty minutes with a thigh-master every day not to have it show.

Many members of the crowd are booing Power who still has Nobu-kun placed in this submission, his head turning to observe the fans. A large smirk is plastered across his face before Nobu-kun drops forward, placing the top of his head against the canvas then flipping up off of it right onto his feet. He then turns to face a somewhat surprised Power, stepping forward and slipping behind his back, wrapping his arms around his waist. A large, eager grin comes to Nobu-kun’s face while standing behind Power, holding him in this provocative position. This only further compounds the frustration of Power who slides down the gut of Nobu-kun onto his back, reaching up with his legs and placing them under his light opponent’s armpits. He is trying to drag him forward into a pinfall only for Nobu-kun to drop down knees first into the front of his shoulders, wrapping his arms around his thighs. The crowd has a mixed reaction as Nobu-kun finds his face mere inches removed from Max Power’s posterior which is raised into the air.

Mayne: Oh no. Get out of this position Power, this is not the way you treat a super-hero!

The referee makes the count with MERCY watching on in disgust.

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Power kicks out emphatically, launching Nobu-kun forward into the canvas while Max holds onto his knees which were buried against his chest. He stands up, crossing Nobu-kun’s legs across one another and then turning his back towards him. He sticks his own leg through Nobu-kun’s, applying a version of the Inverted Indian Death Lock in a standing position. Nobu-kun is left shouting out in pain, grinding his teeth and already looking ready to tap as he finds himself in this position. That’s even before Power can fully get the submission locked in. Although heavily outweighed, Nobu-kun drags himself towards the ropes, reaching out and grabbing the bottom cable. The referee steps in and starts a five count on Power, demanding he break the submission and after a moments hesitation he does. He pulls his leg away but quickly turns around, dropping to his knee then leaning forward, burying his shoulder into the legs of Nobu-kun. He still has him in an inverted Indian death lock position but instead is using his legs, he uses his arms as he drags him backwards away from the cables. He lifts up on the legs now only for Nobu Kun to fight and free them from his grasp, sticking them out while wrapping them around Power’s neck. Nobu-kun flips Max over with his legs, sending him crashing hard onto his back across the canvas then rising immediately to his feet as he charges at the ropes, jumping over them to the outside. He grabs the top cable then pulls himself up onto it before springing off right at Nobu-kun who spots him at the last second, spinning around with a hard back heel kick right to Max’s gut as he lands on his feet in front of him. The crowd groans the impact as Power is doubled over, holding his mid-section, Nobu-kun turning around and delivering a step up inzugari straight to the back of his head. The crowd again groans at the sound of the stiff strike as Power is knocked down to a kneeling base almost. That’s before Nobu-kun steps to his side and wraps his arm around his neck, pointing quickly at the turnbuckle. He charges forward right at it, dragging his much larger opponent along and then stepping up the cables, going for some type of springboard bulldog perhaps. As he gets to the top rope though, Power counters, burying his shoulder into Nobu-kun’s spine and stepping to the center of the ring. He allows him to slide over his back while reaching up, hooking both of his arms so that Nobu-kun is hanging off of him in position for the Maxochism or as it’s more properly known, the Kutoh driver.

Mayne: Yes, hahahaha, Max is going to finish him off right away!

Douglas: A brilliant counter as Power prepares to connect with the Maxochism, which will surely put Nobu-kun away in this contest. Wait, why is Power using one of Max Craven’s signature moves?

The crowd is screaming before Nobu-kun counters, flipping over backwards and landing on his feet right behind Power before stepping forward, grabbing him around the neck again. He has him in a sideheadlock, pointing at the ropes then charging forward as he steps up them, again going for the springboard bulldog. As soon as he pushes himself off the top rope and turns, Max adjusts himself, grabbing him by the belt line and dragging him down out of the air, spine first right across his knee with a thunderous back breaker. The crowd responds with shock at the sight of the counter as Nobu-kun flips over sideways, landing on his knees on the canvas while holding his lower spine, MERCY cheering from the outside of the ring. Power has hold of Nobu-kun’s wrist though after hitting the back breaker, swinging around under it as if going for a submission but instead dragging his opponent to his feet and burying his shoulder into his spine. He hoists Nobu-kun into the air then drives him down hard into the canvas with a vicious back drop suplex. All the air is driven from Nobu-kun’s tiny body as a result of such an impact, Power turning onto his knees and crawling into the cover, hooking his nimble opponent’s leg.

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Somehow Nobu-kun musters up the strength to get his shoulder up, turning away from Power in the process as Max immediately gets to his feet and swings around. He steps over Nobu-kun’s back then places both of his arms in a full nelson, holding him in a full nelson camel clutch. He sits down hard on Nobu-kun’s back with the fans screaming their heads off, chanting for Nobu-kun to escape this hold. Max isn’t going to let him though, only further applying pressure the more the fans cheer for Nobu-kun, who is slowly fading as a result of this tough submission hold. Mercy is clapping on Power, insisting that he finish this already. That’s when Nobu-kun begins to find the strength to escape this tough submission, starting to push himself up to his feet, attempting to fight it to the best of his abilities. Power almost seems to be allowing him to expel the energy to rise to his feet. As soon as Nobu-kun gets their, still trapped in the full nelson, Max lets go of one of his arms and spins him around with the other. He then places Nobu-kun in a powerbomb position before wrapping his arms around his waist and hoisting him into the air. He allows Nobu-kun to flip over top his shoulder so that he can wrap his hands around his chin, and so that his shins end up over top the front of Power’s thighs. He has him in almost a reverse Guerrerro special, really stretching out his young opponent’s back over his own spine. Nobu-kun is shouting in pain while he flails his arms, trying to escape this brutal submission hold from a very game Max Power, who is determined to exact some revenge for the loss his opponent caused his good friend Max Craven several weeks ago..

Mayne: A very nice transition from the full nelson camel clutch into what I believe is referred to as the Super Prume Lock.

Douglas: Did you just make that name up?

Billy: Yes, sounded real though didn’t it?

Nobu-kun is still flailing his arms, trying to escape this hold while Max bends forward, really stretching out the back of Nobu-kun, almost breaking it while it extends over his own spine. He drags down on the chin of Nobu-kun while it’s draped over his shoulder before he stands up and then drops to his seat. The crowd screams as Max connects with almost a reverse stunner from that position, Nobu-kun coming down behind him onto his knees. He bounces off with a very groggy glint in his eyes then tumbles forward into the canvas, passing out from the collision. Max spins around and crawls quickly into the cover with Mercy screaming for joy.

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Again, somehow Nobu-kun kicks out with mere seconds to spare, leaving Max flabbergasted as he sits up on the canvas. He now extends his fingers out in the direction of the official, insisting that his count was slow. Referee Alex Ingelson responds by sticking up two fingers, informing him that he didn’t get the three count on that exchange. As a result, Max goes back to the attack on Nobu-kun, who had somehow risen to his elbows and knees before getting an elbow dropped right to his lower back. The impact knocks Nobu-kun to his chest and stomach before Power grabs him around the chin, dragging him to his feet then to the to the ropes. Max sticks the head and upper body of his opponent through the cables then reaches over the top one, interlocking his hands around Nobu-kun’s jaw, pulling back on it and burying his knee into his spine. Nobu-kun is shouting at the top of his lungs in pain as a result of this illegal submission move utilizing the ropes. The official starts a five count before Nobu-kun is freed from the hold, Power breaking it only to pull him backwards into the ring in order to launch a forearm into his spine. Nobu-kun is doubled over backwards in pain before Power buries his shoulder into his back and hoists him into the air. Just as he does, Nobu-kun flips over, landing on his feet right behind Max then surprisingly charging forward, catching him around the neck before stepping up the cables and pushing himself off. He drags Power around into a huge springboard bulldog, driving him hard face first into the canvas, the crowd going nuts at the sight of this.

Dan: I can’t believe it, Nobu-kun is still alive in this contest even after all his body has went through in this match!

Mayne: This is completely unfair, Power had the pinfall twice already if it hadn’t been for the slow count of that damn Englishmen Alex Ingelson!

Nobu-kun lies on the canvas next to Max Power, completely spent while reaching for his back which has been targeted repeatedly in this contest. Finally he begins to drag himself to his feet, his body aching in the process, Power starting to do the same. As soon as both men reach their feet, Power steps forward with a lariat only for Nobu-kun to catch hold of his arm and spin him around into a kick to the gut. Nobu-kun catches Power around the neck, placing him in a front chancery then sticking his arm out to his side, setting up for the twist of fait. He swings around for it when Max places his hands to Nobu-kun’s back, pushing him off and forward right into the cables. That’s before Nobu-kun jumps into the air, landing feet first on the second rope and springing off as he turns in mid-air, catching Power around the neck before pulling him around into a huge tornado DDT. Power’s skull is plastered into the canvas as he falls over sideways, the fans going nuts over what just transpired. Nobu-kun gets to his knees and crawls into the cover.

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2

Power now finds himself kicking out in the nick of time, barely raising his shoulder from the canvas before the three count. Nobu-kun sits up, sweating profusely and looking shocked that he didn’t get the pin. After a few painstaking moments he rises to his feet, and grabs Max around the neck, beginning to turn him onto his knees then drag him to his feet. Again he kicks him to his gut and places him in a front chancery, shouting out for the Ours, or the Twist of Fait. He swings his arm around and catches Max under the neck before Power turns around abruptly, wrapping his arm around Nobu-kun’s neck from behind and dropping down into a Rude Awakening style reverse neckbreaker. The crowd screams at the sight of this while Power sits up, Nobu-kun completely taken out of it after that last drop across the back of his head. Max gets to his feet and points at the top rope, getting a mixed reaction, but a very positive response from mistress MERCY, who knows he’s going for something big from the top rope. Max slips through the ropes onto the apron and begins to scale the turnbuckle now with the crowd still giving him a mixed response. That’s when their reaction changes to cheers as Bitchcakes McPhee makes his way through the curtains, stepping down the ramp towards the ring, looking sadly into his empty beer bottle. He also holds up a missing sign with a crudely drawn picture of a beer on it, asking anyone if they;ve seen it.

Mayne: Power has got the win here....hey wait a minute, what the hell is this big smelly idiot doing out here? It’s bad enough already that I have one seated next to me.

Douglas: Real nice Billy, but I don’t know, Bitchcakes looks troubled, coming out here with that empty beer bottle Max Power was showing him last week.

Mercy begins to shake her head and yell for Power to turn around as he spins to face Bitchcakes who is stepping towards the ring, holding up the bottle so Max can see it.

Bitchcakes: Power, Power, I need your help? Where did you find my beer?

Max shakes his head, yelling back at Bitchcakes while pointing to the backstage area, insisting he leave him be while he’s in the middle of a match. McPhee stomps his foot though, persisting and thus distracting Power even longer.

Bitchcales: You gots to help me Power! Where is my beer, where is it!?! You knows where my stolen beer is.

Power: Get out here dammit!

Max points towards the backstage area in a threatening manner now while Nobu-kun begins to stand up in the center of the ring. Power turns towards the ring when Nobu-kun suddenly rushes at him, stepping up the ropes then jumping high into the air. He wraps his legs around the neck of Max Power then pulls him off the turnbuckle with a huge hurricarana, right into a pin as they slam hard to the canvas. Nobu-kun is seated on Max’s chest while Bitchcakes watches on, shocked by what he’s seeing. MERCY is shaking her head as the official drops down, making the count, everyone applauding.

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No! Max Power kicks out somehow to the shock of the fans, launching Nobu-kun forward and into the ropes. He falls chest first onto them, leaning against the cables for support then glaring at Bitchcakes, who is turned away from him, the drunken star arguing with mistress MERCY.

Nobu-kun: Fat-ass, fat-ass, hehehehe. Fat-ass American....

Bitchcakes turns his head to stare at Nobu-kun, who even through his pain is laughing and motioning in the direction of McPhee’s plus sized posterior. The alcoholic athlete actually shows anger before McPhee steps forward and slams the beer bottle he was holding directly into Nobu-kun’s face. Glass shatters to pieces, flying in all different directions before Nobu-kun tumbles onto his back, scratching at his face which could have been possibly lacerated by the strike.

Douglas: Bitchcakes McPhee just broke a glass bottle straight over Nobu-kun’s face!

Mayne: Nobu-kun did the wrong thing by both motioning towards McPhee’s ample cheeks and making fun of them, especially after all the hardwork Bitchcakes has done to lose weight these past few months.

Bitchcakes backs away with anger stretched over his face, very upset over the actions of Nobu-kun while the referee was distracted by Power, who was trying desperately to get to his knees. Max now spots Nobu-kun spread out on the canvas in front of him, quickly crawling towards him and grabbing hold of his hair. The official spins around and finally spots all the broken glass lying everywhere across the canvas. He then looks towards McPhee who points in the direction of the fans, insisting one of them threw it while the referee shakes his head, not agreeing but having no other options. Max quickly grabs Nobu-kun by the hair, rolling him to his feet then pulling him towards the corner before burying his shoulder into his gut. He quickly lifts Nobu-kun into the air and sits him on the top of the turnbuckle before turning his back towards him. With Nobu-kun knocked through a loop and a bit of blood dribbling down his face, Power turns his back towards him and reaches up. He grabs both of Nobu-kun’s arms, crossing them over one another and then pulling him over his head down to the canvas with an Iconoclasm Driver, otherwise known as Power’s Insane-Asylum. Nobu-kun hits the canvas hard before Power crawls quickly into the cover, Bitchcakes backing up while waving off his hand, which seems to have been hurt slightly by the busted beer bottle. There is no kicking out for Nobu-kun at this point.

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3

The crowd reacts with a mixed ovation yet again as Max Power quickly rises to his feet then goes into another spine. He makes several revolutions around the ring then ends it with a powerful outward thrust of his arm. Slowly Max turns his head to glare at Bitchcakes on the outside of the ring, who is clapping and holding up a picture of his missing beer, gesturing towards it.

Mayne: Hahaha, and Max Power wins in a heroic manner.

Douglas: Well he got the pin, but it was anything but heroic as Power smashed that bottle right over the head of Nobu-kun.

Billy: That detracts nothing away from the finish of this match though.

Douglas: Billy, stop sniffing glue for five seconds and pull your head out of your ass.

Max refuses to even make eye contact with Bitchcakes in favor of still celebrating in the ring while MERCY enters behind him. She steps in while he’s crouched forward, placing her hand on his shoulder and thrusting her arm high into the air. This causes an even louder mixed ovation while McPhee appears somewhat dejected on the ramp, not liking that he’s being ignored, even after he helped Power win this match.

MAKE THE RIGHT DECISION

Listen Aurora, there’s no way you can go out there and compete....

Even though clearly in a state of anguish, Aurora is clearly refusing to listen. A bag of ice is positioned to the back of her neck while seated on a cot in the trainer’s room, agonizing over the wounds that were inflicted to her earlier in the evening by Pat Evans. An elderly, plump doctor stands over her, the same one who did the weigh in last week for Bitchcakes McPhee. Even his cranky, mis-tempered elderly frame shows some genuine concern and emotion for the well being of Aurora. He obviously doesn’t like the spiteful glare emanating from a twisted, painful face.

Aurora: I hope your not serious Doc, because rather you are or not, I’m still going out there to compete.

The Doctor lowers his head and shakes it, rubbing at the patch of flesh between his eyes in agitation.

Doc: You know I do have like a PHD or something like that. I kind of know what I’m talking about here, and I’m telling you that if you go out there tonight your only risking, no guaranteeing further injury.

It’s clear that Aurora refuses to hear what the so called “expert” has to say. She’s already made up her mind, and there’s no changing it. No amount of ranting or raving coming from this rotund elderly figure will alter the course she’s already set herself on.

Maybe you should listen to him, for your own good, Aurora...

The voice sounds familiar, as well as somewhat reassuring in this bleak moment, to Aurora, who raises her head to glare at Jon Rich waltzing into the dressing room. The NHB title is draped over his shoulder while he approaches Rose who is still planted in the cot, holding the back of her neck in a great deal of pain. There’s concern, worry depicted in his eyes which narrow on the twisted frame of Aurora, still reeling from that shot to the back with a steel chair earlier in the evening.

Rose: Oh great, so your going to agree with him now? Take his side?

The anger in Aurora’s voice seems to take Jon aback a bit. That’s before a smile creeps over his face.

Jon: I’m not taking anybodies side. If I did pick and choose sides, I certainly wouldn’t be standing here talking to you right now after what happened last week.

Mentioning the incident between herself and Roxas only adds to the frustration compounding within Rose. Her lower lip shakes with rage at the thought of Knoxx.

Aurora: Don’t get me started on that untrustworthy shrew Jon, because I guarantee you won’t like what I have to say about her.

All this arguing and animosity between Roxas and Rose is making Rich increasingly uncomfortable, but like Aurora he stays the course.

Jon: I didn’t come back here to talk to you about that, but since you bring it up, I have to say you two really must work out your differences before this all goes too far in a non physical manner. I don’t want to see you two ripping each other apart when there are much bigger issues at hand that need to be concentrated on. I mean, your sitting here getting fired up at the thought of Roxas, and not clearly thinking about the seriousness of the injuries Evans inflicted on you. If you were thinking rationally you’d know it be stupid to go out there and compete with this type of injury....

Rose: Geez Jon, one might think you actually care about me or something.

A smirk has settled over Aurora’s face for a moment as she sees how uncomfortable such a statement makes Rich. That grin is short lived though and replaced by anger.

Aurora: Nevertheless your wasting your breath. I’m going out there tonight and I’m competing in that tag match. I’m not going to let my fans down, I’m not going to let that freak Evans dictate my behavior, and decide my fait for me. I’m going out there tonight, and there’s not a damn thing anyone can say or do to stop that.

For a moment Rich contemplates his options, rather he should continue to try and convince Aurora that she’s making the wrong decision or just give up.

Jon: Jeez, your more like Roxas than you want to believe, Aurora, your both stubborn as hell. If your going out there tonight though, good luck, and watch yourself.

Jon turns and nods in the Doc’s direction, who is clearly demoralized while hanging his head.

Doc: Why do I even have a job here, nobody listens to me.

As Jon turns and grabs the doorknob, twisting it to exit, Aurora grins somewhat in the direction of his back then quickly shakes her head, remembering how angry she’s suppose to be. With that Rich exits the dressing room, the camera shifting to one outside in the hallway which Jon has stepped into. As the door closes behind him Jon looks up, a frantic expression coming to his face. Clearly nervous about something as Roxas Knoxx steps into the scene from off camera. She makes her way towards him then pauses, forcing a smile to her face as she leans in and kisses him on the lips. Jon continues to grin while adjusting the NHB title over his shoulder. Roxas retracts her head now while glancing between Rich and the door he just stepped through.

Roxas: Hey, babe, where were you? I’ve been looking everywhere for you so we can talk about what we’re going to do concerning our match tonight.

Knoxx tries to look at the door again before Jon places his finger under her chin, turning her head so that they are looking into each other’s eyes.

Jon: I was just spreading some of my pearls of wisdom...

Knoxx: That better be all you were spreading.

An uneasy chuckle comes from Rich whole Knoxx glances about her surroundings now, tension setting into her.

Roxas: By the way, have you seen that skank Aurora Rose around? I got something I want to say to that little bitch.....

Rich lifts his palm, shaking his head quickly, begging her to stop before it goes too far.

Rich: Can we go one night without you bringing Aurora up? We’ve got more pressing matters to deal with, namely how to get through this match tonight.

Roxas’ momentary anger subsides while she nods her head, realizing how serious of a matter this is.

Jon: Now I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. And if I have too, I’ll gladly lay down in the ring for you tonight, and let you take my title.

The notion of this offends and outrages Roxas, shaking her head immediately in protest.

Knoxx: No, there’s no way that this match is going to end like that. I’m not going to sully your good name and reputation by taking the belt off you like that. There’s only one way we can get through this match. I’ll lye down, and you pin me to retain the belt.

Again Rich finds himself smirking before shaking his head.

Rich: I can’t ask you to do that for me, Roxas, and I won’t. Now like I said, I’ll lay down.....

Whew, don’t you both do enough lying on top each other already, hahahaha.

Immediate anger sets into both the faces of Rich and Roxas as into the scene strolls Jackson Adams, a referee shirt binding to his upper frame. He seems to be having a good chuckle at their expense as he steps to their sides, extending his arms and dropping them over their shoulders. They both lift their palms and push him back though. Jackson brushes their hands away from his freshly starched shirt.

Jackson: Hey, hey, watch the duds fellas. Look at you two, your already putting your hands on me and the match hasn’t even started yet.

Knoxx: That’s not all we’re going to do to you....

Knoxx steps towards Adams, about to unload on him before Rich grabs her by the arms, holding her back, keeping her from unleashing her fury all over the smiling Jackson.

Adams: You know, I thought you two would see it that way. That’s why I’ve decided that in the interest of fairness, I’m going to add a little stipulation into this match to spice it up a bit. To make it more interesting than either of you have ever been. Tonight, if you two put your hands on me, or if you refuse to compete, than I’ll consider it a void of your contract, and thus, you’ll both be fired, hahahaha.

The confidence in the eyes of Rich and Roxas begins to fade away which causes Adams to chuckle a bit more. That’s before Rich becomes much more spiteful, and full of emotion, digging his finger into Jackson’s chest.

Jon: You should know better than to put a couple of animals in a corner, Jackson.

The threat amuses Adams before he reaches out, patting both Rich and Roxas on their shoulders.

Adams: Have fun out there, hahahaha.

Jackson turns and marches off camera while Rich tries to keep himself from exploding. At the same time Roxas is doing the same, her eyes narrowing on the back of Jackson’s head as he confidently marches away.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

IWC’S SPECIAL GUEST OF THE EVENING

DIVIDED OR UNITED?

A large open area somewhere in the backstage corridors takes up the forefront of the camera, filled by numerous IWC talents. The crowd cheers accordingly at the sight of the majority of them, some standing, and others seated around a large circular wooden table. Psycho is amongst them, leaning elbows first against the surface of the table, his hands over his face, contemplating something deeply. Aurora Rose is there, pacing while gripping at the back of her neck as well, still in a lot of pain but pushing it aside. Bitchcakes McPhee is present as well, holding up a piece of paper with a crude sketching of beer on it, using it as a missing poster, asking around to anyone who will listen if they’ve seen it or not. Stacy Raines just shrugs her shoulders, having never seen it. Also amongst those gathered is a sweaty Nobu-kun still holding his back from that previous match in which a lot of wear and tear was done on it. Regardless he still finds the strength to mosey about this large open area, passing by Robin Brooks, who is examining the X-Class title draped over her forearm. Amongst all the conversations going on, amongst all the commotion one theme seems consistent, what to do about tonight, with everyone’s faits being controlled by the Alpha Generation.

Psycho: Well I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m not going to stay here and get dicked around by the Alpha Generation all night long. I’d rather walk out and quit then be subjected to that.

Psycho falls backwards in his chair, leaning against it with a great deal of contemplation stretched over his features. He eyes all those gathered around him, all of them equally as confused as him. Ward Hawn speaks up from across the room as well.

Ward: That’s certainly a sound strategy, give up and don’t give a shit anymore.

A chuckle comes from the disfigured features of Psycho, who then shrugs his shoulders.

Psycho: Why not? That seems to be the best course to take, doesn’t it? Better than being forced out by the Alpha Generation. Which we all know is going to happen eventually, now that AWOL is gone. I mean, who’s going to step up to fight for the IWC now, you, or you, Chris Cagero?

The massive figure that is Chris Cagero smirks slightly, showing some emotion for a change while his massive frame stands between two large crates, leaning forearm first against one of them to prop himself up.

Chris: I just go where I’m needed, and do what’s needed to be done.

That last comment doesn’t seem to provide any form of reassurance for Psycho, who looks around even more bewildered than ever.

Psycho: Does anybody even know that the hell that’s suppose to mean?

Psycho just shakes his head, not even trying to make sense out of it even more. The massive Cagero just does the same, not interested in providing a rebuttal to Psycho’s angry pleas. Finally, amongst all this commotion Psycho rises to his feet and takes a long hard look out over the roster gathered around him.

Psycho: If any of you were smart, you’d do what I’m about to, and leave before this whole show goes down the shitter and your dragged down with it. I’ll be damned if I ever work for Hurse, or any of those Alpha Gen jackasses, and you should all feel the same. Without AWOL, they’ve got all the power, which means we’re doomed.

The former multiple time Livewire Champion turns to vacate the premises when he stops abruptly, his eyes widening at the sight of something. He seems taken aback by the mere presence of this figment who exists off camera before him.

Psycho: Wow, I didn’t think you’d even bother to show up tonight.

A loud ovation comes from the crowd packed into the Manhattan Center as in strolls the Livewire Champion himself, Chapel. The gold glistens over his shoulder while he marches almost defiantly towards Psycho, the War Angel not tentative or bogged down with endless concerns like all the others. In fact, he seems to have peace of mind, a small smile placed on his face while he moves forward, Psycho forced to step out of his way. The rest of the roster turns to meet him with their eyes as he stops a few inches away from the table.

Chapel: I guess you were mistaken then Psycho, like you are a lot of the time....

The former Livewire Champion grimaces while turning away from Chapel with a shake of his head, deciding to slip back into his chair instead of leaving. Chapel now takes a moment to overlook everyone gathered before him.

Chapel: See, Psycho is wrong about a lot of things, including not having a fighting chance tonight since the Alpha Generation is in control. I know a lot of you just want to pack up your bags and go home because you don’t think you’ve got an opportunity, you don’t think that we can overcome them without AWOL. Well I’m here right now to tell you all that’s bullshit!

Many heads raise and turn to observe Chapel after shouting such a loud obscenity, starting to get fired up now. Even Psycho appears somewhat intrigued, and less concerned.

Chapel: Sure AWOL has been fighting to keep power out of the hands of the Alpha Generation, and although it kills me to admit it, he was doing a damn good job at it. But now it’s up to us to pick up where he left off. I won’t lie, it’s going to be a war, but we can’t let the company many of us helped build be destroyed by a gaggle of power hungry idiots. We’ve got to stand up for this company, our company. Sure AWOL isn’t here, but that doesn’t mean we can’t keep fighting.

Instead of getting a round of applause for his rara speech, a mere chuckle is all that can be heard, emanating from Psycho who leans forward, shaking his head at the sight of Chapel trying to in-power everyone. The Livewire Champion closes his eyes and sighs while Psycho continues to laugh to himself.

Psycho: This coming from the guy who doesn’t care about anything. Why should we get behind you, when we all know you despise AWOL, that you’d do anything to see him fail, include stabbing us all in the back and turning on the company you so dearly want to keep alive?

Psycho places his arms one over the other and leans forward, putting his chin on top of them while batting his eyes in Chapel’s direction, waiting for a response. The War Angel smirks slightly before turning towards Psycho slowly, almost dramatically.

Chapel: I will admit, I’ve been rather apathetic when it comes to the defense of this company. But that was before I saw what the Alpha Generation did in our match last week Psycho, and more importantly what they did to AWOL. I might not like the man, but I do respect him, and everything he’s done for this company. I may not have cared before, but I do now. And with, or without your help, I’ll make sure this company isn’t destroyed by those ego maniacal bastards. For several of you, this has been your home for years. You’ve bled, you’ve sweat, you’ve done it all in that ring for this company, and to build your legacies. I for one am not going to let someone come in and take that all away from me!

Chapel is red in the face at the mere thought of it while Psycho perks up, liking what he hears, enjoying the sight of such conviction from the Livewire Champion. Many of the roster members seem more enthused now as well, more eager to fight on behalf of the roster.

Chapel: We built this house, and I’m not going to let anyone destroy it! We either stand tall now, or let ourselves be divided and watch as our home is burned to the ground! I’m not going to sit idly by and let that happen. I’m not going to let the destruction of IWC be on my soul! If you all don’t stand together now, you’ll regret what happens to the IWC for the rest of your lives. Can you live with that? Don’t you people fucking care anymore!?! Who’s going to stand tall, and who’s going to watch this company be torn apart!?! Who I ask?

The intensity in Chapel’s voice seems to captivate everyone, but nobody steps forward, all too tentative to do so. That’s before Psycho rises to his feet, grabbing the chair out from under him then tossing it hard into the wall. He spins to face Chapel, just as worked up as the Livewire Champion is, more motivated than ever before.

Psycho: You know I’m with you, you crazy son of a bitch!

Psycho sticks his hand out as Chapel stares down into it for a few moments, contemplating his response, rather he should really cement his alliance with the Sadistic One or not. Finally he slaps his palm into Psycho’s, both men forming a bond for the sake of preserving the company they’ve fought so hard to keep alive these many years. Chapel then looks out over everyone else gathered, Aurora nodding even while holding ice to the back of her head, Chris looking slightly enthralled with the prospect, even Bitchcakes appears motivated to take up the fight. All of them step forward towards Chapel, who is nodding his head, liking what he’s seeing.

Chapel: Alright people, it looks like the AG have still got a war on their hands, and I’ve got a few special tricks up my sleeves for them later tonight.

Diabolical laughter emanates from everyone gathered, liking the sound of this.

JON RICH © VS. ROXAS KNOXX
NO HOLDS BARRED TITLE
JACKSON ADAMS SPECIAL GUEST REFEREE

The show comes back to the ring area, where the camera is panning over some rather anxious fans, deeply anticipating the upcoming matches.

Douglas: Welcome back ringside, ladies and gentlemen, and it doesn’t look like things are going to be as smooth sailing for the Alpha Generation as they earlier expected them to be, because Chapel is rallying the forces in the backstage area.

Mayne: His call to arms is meaningless, meaningless I say. It doesn’t matter if the roster bans together or not, because A) they’re nothing without AWOL, and B) they were nothing with AWOL. The roster is going to fail miserably regardless who’s slapping them on the ass and getting them ready for a war.

Giving In by Adema hits the PA system now, sparking the fans to respond on cue with their outrage, for through the curtains now strolls one of the more despised individuals to ever step foot an IWC ring. A rather arrogant Jackson Adams emerges onto the stage with a referee shirt on, spinning in circles with his arms extended out to his sides before he stops and gives a smug look towards the fans. He then points to his stripped shirt while mouthing off arrogantly and heading for the squared circle.

Douglas: And just like that I get a queasy feeling in my stomach. I’m literally ill at the thought of Jackson Adams officiating this match, especially considering the new stipulation he’s placed on this contest. If neither Jon Rich or Roxas Knoxx fight one another, they’re both fired.

Mayne: It’s a sound strategy. They have to compete, it’s part of their job, if they don’t step into the ring, then guess what, they’re not fulfilling their job duties? Thus they have the right to be terminated.

Dan: That’s the biggest load of BS I think I’ve ever heard you produce. And believe me, you say a slot of stupid shit.

Jackson jumps onto the apron, giving a callous glance in the direction of the fans, a slight smile coming to his face once more he slips through the ropes and into the ring. He then spins around again in an arrogant manner with his arms thrust out to his sides, getting further heckled by the fans. Their reaction causes Adams to step forward, pointing to his shirt and demanding they shut up and treat him with respect as he is acting official. School of Hardknocks then emanates from the speakers, causing the crowd to have a loud, thunderous ovation at the sight of the breathtaking beauty who emerges through the curtains. Roxas Knoxx stops just beyond the curtains, her fists buried to her hips while glaring in the direction of a smiling Jackson in the center of the ring. Finally she starts down the ramp in the direction of the squared circle, trying to maintain her composure while the fans cheer and chant her name. Finally she reaches the ring, jumping onto the apron and giving a piercing glare in Adams’ direction.

Douglas: Obviously Roxas is just as distrusting of Jackson Adams as I, and the rest of these fans are. He’s here to do one thing tonight, and it’s not make the three count, or call this match right down the middle.

Mayne: What is he here to do then? Make pop tarts? Roxas doesn’t trust anyone, if she really knew Adams, she’d understand that this man is a professional of the highest caliber.

Dan: And somehow you’ve made me feel even more ill.

Billy: Mission accomplished.

Roxas slips through the ropes as Jackson gives her a reassuring stare. She seems apprehensive to enter although, until Jon can come out, even though he’s her opponent. 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, an intense expression on his face and the NHB title glistening 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 sliding into the ring. He gets to his feet, runs to the corner, and taunts the fans. He then drops off the apron, removing his title belt and lifting it high above his head before spinning to face Jackson, stepping in his direction in an almost threatening manner.

Douglas: Regardless of the Alpha Generation’s antics, and the threat of being fired, Jon Rich looks highly pumped up by these screaming fans in the Manhattan Center tonight.

Mayne: Pumped up or not pumped up, he better realize that if he doesn’t bust his ass out here tonight and give it 110%, he’s as good as fired. Rightfully fired I might add. He better slap his bitch, and he better slap her hard.

Anxiously the crowd awaits these two to lock it up as Jon Rich finds himself, title glistening over shoulder, standing across from an apprehensive Roxas Knoxx. Both individuals glare tentatively into one another’s faces, not sure exactly what to do here, rather they should lock up or what with the belt on the line. Rich lifts his title into the air while it’s still in the palm of his hand, examining his reflection in the golden plate before looking up at Roxas who is stretching in the opposite corner. A smug looking Adams strolls towards Rich and takes hold of his belt, trying to pull it out of his hand, but Rich squeezes hold of it even tighter. Both men’s eyes meet, the two rivals exchanging a tense staredown. That’s before Adams motions towards the striped shirt hanging over his frame, insisting that he is the official here, and can thus disqualify Rich at a moment’s notice. Jon shakes his head before releasing the belt, Adams stepping backwards while briefly placing it around his own waist, examining how it would look. He then shakes his head and just tosses it with no regard over the cables to the outside of the ring, not caring about the belt whatsoever. Jackson looks back and forth between the opponents before then approaching Rich and insisting he lifts his leg so he can pat him down for weapons.

Jon takes a deep breath, lifting his leg as Adams begins to pat it down, searching for weapons. He only does this for a second before brushing Rich off, having only searched one leg until he turns towards Roxas, a devious smile creeping across his face. Jackson tilts his head and continues to grin while approaching Roxas slowly, calling for her to lift her leg so that he can search her for weapons. Knoxx rolls her eyes and shakes her head while Rich digs his finger nails into the palm of his hand, almost to the point of drawing blood.

Douglas: Why the hell is Jackson Adams searching these two for weapons? This is a NHB Title match, there are no rules, or disqualifications. Weapons are legal!

Mayne: Jackson is just being a good referee, he’s doing what his job title requires him to do.

Dan: The hell he is, he’s using this as an excuse to cop a feel on Roxas.

Billy: As any good referee would.

Roxas tentatively raises her leg as Adams crouches down, enjoying it as he pats her shin and ankle slowly looking for any weapons. Once he gets past the knee though his grin gets wider before Rich steps forward, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him away from Knoxx, who was just rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Jon points in his face, demanding he keep his hands off Knoxx while Jackson just grins, lifting his palms and acting innocent. Again he motions towards his shirt, demanding Rich fall in line or be fired. Rich is physically shaking, wanting to get his hands on Adams but realizing it will cost him both his and Roxas’ job if he does so. Therefore he’s forced to stew in his own anger, shivering as he tries to hold back from unloading on that smirking bastard before him. Roxas steps up behind him, grabbing Rich on the shoulder, turning him around slowly as she realizes she’s got to change the source of his anger, not wanting to see him get fired. Therefore, as their eyes meet, Roxas fires a forearm into the side of Rich’s face, knocking him backwards into one of the turnbuckles. He falls against it as Adams eagerly turns, calling for the bell. It rings to start this match as Roxas stands in front of a shocked Jon, who is rubbing his jaw, trying to come through. He turns slowly towards Roxas who is shouting at him, urging him to attack. Rich can’t seem to bring himself to do it though, just keeps hanging back in the corner, holding his jaw and shaking his head.

Roxas: COME ON!

No matter how much she pleas with him, Rich can’t do it. He’d rather sacrifice his job then put his hands on Roxas. Thus Knoxx decides to intensify her demand by stepping forward and slapping Jon right across the cheek. Again he’s knocked back first against he cables before Roxas slaps him again, then again, starting to increase Rich’s anger.

Knoxx: Fight me damn you!

She throws another slap before Rich catches her by the wrist, then glares straight into her eyes. He lifts his fist as it trembles, but then lowers it back down to his side slowly, shaking his head once again, refusing to attack her. He turns around and begins to exit the ring now before Knoxx grabs him by the back of the trunks, rolling him over into a school boy as Adams eagerly drops to make the count.

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Jon gets his shoulder up off the canvas at the last second. Rolling over backwards onto his knees then glaring into the face of Knoxx who gets up in front of him. She steps in immediately, beginning to throw forearms into the side of his face, while Rich is rising to his feet slowly. She chops him across the sternum now, sending Rich into a spiral before he turns back to face Knoxx who is motioning for him to attack her and save their jobs. Finally Rich rushes forward and lariats her down hard to the canvas, Roxas being laid out while Adams stands back, smiling widely. Jon spins around and immediately regrets what just transpired, what he just did. His hands slide into his hair and grab hold of the follicles, about to rip them from his scalp. He slowly approaches Roxas who looks shocked as she sits up, holding her jaw, glaring at Jon. The NHB Champion bends forward, appearing truly regretful for what he just did. As he apologizes, Roxas sits up and grabs him by the hair, pulling him down to the canvas into a small package.

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Rich kicks out again with the fans cheering, others booing the sight of these two being forced to go at it with one another. They both reach their feet when Rich throws a lariat at Roxas, who ducks it, charging across the ring into the opposite ropes. She bounces off, coming back in at Jon who steps forward at her quickly, only for Knoxx to baseball slide between his legs. The nimble Roxas gets to her feet behind Rich, charging into the ropes and bouncing off, coming back in at Jon who turns and drops to the canvas across his gut. Knoxx jumps over him though, charging into the opposite cables, bouncing off them now and coming back in before Jon jumps to his feet then leaps into the air, connecting with a hard dropkick right to her face. Knoxx is knocked onto her back with force while Rich comes down to his knees beside her. At first his face is filled with joy and excitement over just delivering such a hard kick, but then dread sets in again. Jackson in the meanwhile is laughing his ass off in the corner.

Billy: Hahaha, this is great, Roxas and Rich finally coming to blows in this match. I love the Alpha Generation’s booking abilities.

Douglas: Are you on crack? Or are you just that retarded? This is not amusing, this is just disgusting and disturbing.

Mayne: You don’t like anything, Dan. The only thing you get amusement out of our fucking show tunes, and old made for TV Disney Channel movies, grow up!

The crowd cannot help but to clap that last series of moves while Rich rises to his feet, again shaking his head in a saddened state while approaching Knoxx. He realizes what he just did as he grabs her under the arm, leading her to her feet slowly. Just then Knoxx throws an elbow into his gut, followed by another shot. The blows double Rich over while Knoxx gets to her feet slightly then grabs him around the back of the neck, dropping down into a jawbreaker. Jon bashes chin first off the top of her head, staggering backwards into the ropes, bouncing off and coming back in when Knoxx stands then leaps into the air. She lands right on top of Jon’s shoulders, dropping back into a huge hurricarana that flips her significant other over. Rich crashes hard into the canvas before rolling to his side, trying to stand up. Just as he does Knoxx steps in, launching right hands into the side of his face repeatedly, really getting fired up in this match. She grabs him by the wrist, leading him to his feet then whipping him towards the turnbuckle. Rich spins around, crashing back first against the corner with force while his arms fall over the ropes for support. That’s when Roxas comes charging in, jumping into the air then delivering a hard forearm strike right to Jon’s face before landing on her feet, backing away quickly. Somehow Rich is still standing before Roxas comes barreling in again, jumping into the air and placing her feet to his gut while interlocking her hands around the back of his head. She is going for the monkey flip as she falls backwards out of the corner and pushes up with her legs. Rich is sent into a huge flip, flying through the air but surprisingly landing right on his feet. The crowd puts their hands together at the sight of his athletic counter, while Roxas rolls to her knees, trying to stand up quickly. Rich charges into the ropes and jumps into the air, springing onto the second cable before he’s launched into the air, turning and delivering a huge dropkick right to her chest. Knoxx is knocked to the canvas while Jon lands on the canvas beside his girlfriend, crawling into the cover on her quickly. Adams drops down and begins to make the count.

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Jackson suddenly grabs his shoulder and acts like he’s in great pain, rising to his knees throughout the process. He is wincing in anguish while Jon sits up, glaring at him in a state of utter frustration. Adams points to his shoulder as if he sustained a serious injury due to slapping the canvas. That’s when Knoxx turns on her side, grabbing Rich around the arm and interlocking her legs around the other one, pulling him over into a crucifix pin. Again Adams drops and now looks like he’s in no pain at all.

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Rich kicks out abruptly by rolling over backwards and showing his strength as he keeps his shoulders to her gut, dead lifting her off the canvas into the air in a fireman’s carry. The crowd is screaming as Jon prepares to hit something big but can’t seem to bring himself to do it to Roxas. She now begins to elbow him repeatedly to the side of the face, trying to free herself and again spark his interest in fighting her. Showing her agility she slides off his shoulders, landing on her feet behind his back then wrapping her arms around Jon’s waist. Somehow Rich is able to counter though, performing a standing switch, getting behind Roxas while bending forward, burying his shoulder into her spine. Jon hoists Roxas into the air in a back drop position while staggering backwards into the ropes. He then pushes her over into a backwards flip over the cables, sending her crashing to the outside mats with force.

Billy: Ohhh, what a nasty landing for Roxas Knoxx, is it wrong for me to being enjoying this match so thoroughly?

Douglas: Everything you get pleasure out of is wrong, Billy. But this more so than anything else. These two are tearing each other apart now in order to keep their contract.

Mayne: Yeah, they’re doing their damned jobs, what they’re paid for!

Roxas rolls across the mats towards the ring, still holding her back after hitting the mats with such force. Although she asked for it, she still can’t believe what Jon just did to her. She reaches under the ring now while Rich gives up and charges at the ropes running perpendicular to the ones that Knoxx is standing beyond. Rich leaps into the air, landing feet first on the second cable then springing off as he flies over the perpendicular cables for a huge body block at Knoxx who stands and throws a chair right into his face. The steel collides hard with his skull while Jon drops to his back, wrapping his face around his hands, Knoxx falling side first against he barricade. She uses it to keep herself upright with the fans still screaming over what they just witnessed. Jackson remains in the ring, smiling widely, deeply enjoying what he’s witnessing. On the outside of the ring Roxas falls into the cover on Rich, hooking his leg. Right as she does though, Adams turns away from the cover and drops down, pretending to tie his shoe to a great deal of heckles from the fans. Knoxx looks up enraged that he isn’t making the count for her before she gets up, pointing right in his direction. Jackson stands up then shrugs his shoulders, acting innocent before motioning towards his shoe.

Knoxx gets to her feet finally while Rich tries to stand up, getting to a crawling base with his palm placed to hsi forehead. The quick, agile Knoxx jumps onto the apron then turns to face Rich who is getting to his feet, still gripping his cranium. He turns to face Roxas who rushes across the apron then jumps off, extending her legs as she lands right on top of his shoulders. Knoxx swings around into a huge hurricarana that flips Rich over, sending him crashing hard to the outside mats. He sits up, reaching for his spine while Knoxx gets to her feet, grabbing her boyfriend by the back of the head, leading him to his feet before rolling him into the ring. She then grabs the steel chair she used to almost crush Rich’s skull, lifting it up off the mats while climbing up onto the apron. With Rich prone on the canvas just a few inches removed from the ropes, Roxas grabs the top one, flipping over it while sticking the chair under her legs, going for an Arabian facebuster. In the nick of time Rich rolls out of the way, causing Roxas to collide hard with the canvas and chair, immediately yelling in pain as a result. She rolls over onto her hands and knees, trying to stand up but only getting to a crawling base while reaching for her thigh. Jon grabs the chair off the canvas now and thinks about it before shaking his head and stepping forward. The chair is tucked under his legs as he comes down with a leg drop across the back of Roxas’ head, the steel colliding with her skull as a result. Knoxx is again sent crashing into the canvas with the fans groaning, unable to believe what these two are doing to each other. A tired Rich shoves Knoxx onto her back and falls into the cover, hooking her leg.

Instead of the count being made, Jackson is leaning against the ropes with his back turned towards the action. He seems to be chatting it up with a very attractive female fan at ringside, smiling throughout the process. Unable to control himself any longer, Jon rises to his feet and steps up right behind Adams, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him around, clinching his fist as he prepares to strike. Right before he can though Jackson puts his palms up and smiles before motioning towards his striped shirt yet again. Jon’s chest heaves with anger, trying to keep his cool to the best of his ability before he points in Jackson’s face, warning him. He then turns back towards Roxas who has somehow reached her feet. She steps forward and jumps into the air, placing her feet to his gut and interlocking her hands around the back of his head. She falls to her back then monkey flips Rich through the air, sending him crashing on top of the steel chair that was spread across the ring. Rich sits up, holding his back in pain then rolling towards a nearby turnbuckle which he falls back first against. He is reaching for his back still, which has to be killing him while Knoxx crawls towards the chair, snatching it up off the canvas. Although she is clearing in pain, both physically and emotionally, she gets to her feet and begins to run around the canvas. She makes one full revolution then charges right at Rich seated in the corner, jumping into the air before sticking the chair under her feet and dropkicking it violently right into his skull. The crowd reacts with shock, as does Rich who is going into convulsions in the corner, saliva seeping from the corner of his mouth. Knoxx gets to her knees and throws the chair away before grabbing Jon by the ankle, dragging him out of the corner then falling into the cover.

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Jackson gets something stuck in his eye. He rises to his knees, placing his palm to his eye while shouting out in pain.

Douglas: OH COME ON ALREADY! Adams has come up with literally a thousand different ways to prolong this match. He doesn’t have anything in his eye.

Mayne: How do you know? Those damn gnats flying around here cause so much trouble. First one landed on AWOL’s cheek last week and Adams tried to slap it off, and now one’s caught in his eye. We have a serious infestation problem here, and no, I’m not talking about pest like Rich or Roxas, mwahahahaha.

Dan: Whoever hired you for this job should be hung from a light post.

The crowd is outraged, as is Knoxx who rises to his feet, approaching Adams who is still trying to clean his eye out with a big grin on his face. She spins him around and now finds herself to be the one with her fist clinched, ready to unload. Adams backs away quickly, once more using his ref shirt as a shield, motioning to it repeatedly. Roxas swallows deeply, trying to keep her cool before she turns back towards Rich who is using the turnbuckle to stand up, leaning spine first against it. She comes barreling in now, jumping high into the air before Rich steps out of the way, causing Roxas to collide with the turnbuckle gut first. Knoxx bashes off and staggers in reverse, right into Rich who catches her around the neck. He places her in a cobra clutch then turns his back towards her, setting up for the Get Rich Quick. Before he can it though Knoxx slides down, freeing herself while she lands laid across her own spine behind him, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his hips. She drags him down into a sunset flip style pin. Still Adams is tinkering with the figment trapped in his eye while Roxas has the surprise cover. Not for long though as Rich rolls over backwards right onto his feet then jumps in reverse into the turnbuckle, landing on his feet first. Knoxx gets up with a surprised expression on her face as Rich springs up backwards onto the top rope then flies off with a huge crossbody right at her. But Roxas drops to the canvas, avoiding the aerial move before Adams spins around in time for his eyes to widen with shock as Rich crashes down right on top of him with the crossbody. Everyone is going nuts as both individuals spill to the canvas with force. Jon comes down hard on top of Adams before rolling across the ring, leaving Jackson flopping on the ring like a fish who just got pulled from the water. While still going into convulsions, Rich stands up then steps beside Adams with a huge grin on his face. Roxas has rolled to the apron under the ropes, getting to her feet then stepping across it while Rich tries to get his head straight. Knoxx grabs the top rope in front of him now and springs up onto the cable, flying off right at Rich with a huge attempt at a standing senton bomb. But Rich clears out of the way causing Knoxx to flip over and crash back first right across the ribs of the special referee. Jackson goes into convulsions again before this time rolling to the outside of the ring, spilling to the mats in a heap.

Mayne: No! This isn’t fair, both Rich and Roxas just purposely took out the referee, they should be fired for this!

Douglas: It was accidental Billy, and you know it. Adams just got in the way one too many times.

The fans are slapping the barricades and cheering wildly while Knoxx begins to force herself up to her feet with a sneaky little grin on her face. Quickly Rich steps in, catching her around the neck now and dropping back into a huge, thunderous DDT. The collision plants Knoxx right on top of her head with her whole body standing up on top of it. She then flips over, crashing onto her back while Rich rolls to his knees, really trying to win this match now as he crawls into the cover. Rich hooks her leg, but there is no referee for real this time, Adams having a legitimate excuse for not making the tag, as he writhes in pain on the outside of the ring. That’s when official Stuart Wright charges from the back straight at the ring, slipping in under the cables then crawling to the center of the squared circle. He immediately begins to make the count.

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No, Knoxx gets her shoulder off the canvas, everyone putting their hands together at the sight of this. Jon sits up, looking rather tired after the repeated impacts he’s taken to the head throughout this match. Nevertheless he rises to his feet and slips his hands into Roxas’ hair, rolling her to her knees then signaling for the end. He pulls Knoxx to a standing base then spins her around so that he can lock her arms around her neck, placing her again in position for the Get Rich Quick. Right as he is about to hit it though Knoxx charges forward at the ropes, pulling Rich with her. She then steps up the cables, getting to the top one before flipping over backwards, right over the head of Rich. Before she goes all the way over though, she lands on his shoulders and flips him over into a huge pinning hurricarana. He holds onto the back of Jon’s legs with the fans going nuts.

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No! Rich gets his shoulder off the canvas at the last second.

Douglas: Roxas and Rich exchanging too close nearfalls here. It’s nice to see these two actually going at it in a fair, balanced match.

Mayne: This contest has lost all meaning to me at this point. It’s just not fair that Adams has been removed from the equation.

The fans are still screaming over that last nearfall while both Rich and Roxas start to reach a standing base. They are both in a great deal of pain at this point, as this match has possibly been made to go longer than it should have. As they reach their feet, Rich throws a punch only for Knoxx to duck it then, get behind her man’s back, placing her hands under his biceps. She back slides him down to the canvas into a cover.

1

2

Rich rolls over backwards without warning and grabs Knoxx around the head, dragging it between his legs. He then hoists her into the air upside down before placing his arm between her thighs and dropping to the canvas with a huge cradle piledriver. Knoxx’s body bounces high into the air before coming down back first, Jon crawling into the cover this time with the fans all screaming.

Douglas: This could be it Billy, Rich may retain his NHB title with that last big move!

Everyone is going nuts as the count is still going.

1

2

3!

Rich has done it, he’s just pinned Roxas Knoxx with the fans screaming wildly. But wait, Adams has grabbed the official by his ankle, dragging Wright out of the ring. Stuart lands on his feet right in front of Adams who grabs him by the collar of his shirt then slugs him right to his face. The official is sent crashing into the mats while Jackson stands over him, wearing an intense expression on his face while glaring down at the referee. Rich rises to his knees, glaring at Adams in a state of absolute outrage.

Douglas: Dammit, Adams just took out the replacement referee! But it was a second too late, the three count was made and thus Rich is victorious here tonight.

Mayne: How dare Stuart Wright try to fulfill his job qualifications! No one is a better referee than Jackson Adams.

Frustration seems to be the primary emotion from those fans gathered in the arena while Jackson turns to glare into the squared circle. His lower lip is shivering while he calls for a microphone. Rich is motioning towards Knoxx, insisting that he already got the pinfall while Roxas starts to regain her senses, holding her head, turning onto her elbow. The time keeper hands Jackson the mic while he moves around to the edge of the ramp, starting to rip off his referee shirt in a state of outrage. His finger points right into Rich’s face.

Jackson: Yeah, I know you got the fucking pin Rich, but I don’t give two shits about it!

A cup hits Adams in the back before he turns, glaring down at it then back into the ring, still fuming with rage.

Adams: I warned you and Roxas both that if either of you put your hands on me, that you’d be fired. I warned you both that if you refused to fight each other, you’d be fired. So guess what, your both FIRED!

Spit flies from the red face of Adams, who’s veins protrude through his flesh, flinging down the microphone after making that last statement. Rich appears just as enraged by what he just heard while Roxas is stunned as well as enraged.

Douglas: No, Adams can’t do this. He just can’t fire both these phenomenal athletes! The physicality wasn’t intentional.

Mayne: That doesn’t matter. They still put their hands on Adams, and it’s about time a referee was able to flex their authoritative muscle and have these disrespectful talents fired.

Dan: This is bullshit, absolute bullshit. I don’t know how much worse this night can get for the IWC roster, Jon Rich and Roxas Knoxx have both been fired!

Rich helps Roxas to her feet, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, while pulling her in close. Even after the physical war they endured they still embrace one another now that they’ve been struck with the disturbing news that they’ve been fired from the IWC roster. Jackson stops on the stage, right before the curtains with a large grin cutting across his face. He’s very amused by the emotional trauma he’s inflicted on both Rich and Knoxx. Both heads of the competitors are lowered in the ring now before their eyes dart to glare at the fans who are all standing, giving them praise.

AN OMINOUS FEELING

A loud, thunderous ovation, consisting of boos, but surprisingly a great deal of cheers, emanates from the sold out crowd as none other than the Icon himself, Orlando Cruze steps forward into the camera’s frame. A black “Icon” t-shirt binds to his upper body with his wrestling trunks on below, dressed for in ring competition, which is coming up later in the evening. But his match against Chris Cagero doesn’t seem to be distressing him quite as much as another problem, which he’s set on getting to the bottom of now. He finally stops beside a door, and after doing the polite thing by knocking at it, he twists the knob and steps inside. Another loud ovation commences from the fans at the sight of Nathan Creed seated inside the dressing room.

Orlando: Hey Nathan, I just came by to check on you man.

As soon as he enters the room though, Cruze’s confidence fades a bit, retracting his head at the sight of the blood smeared features of Nathan Creed. A bandage is placed over his forehead while seated on a bench in his dressing room, sweat rolling down his exhausted frame. He’s obviously still feeling the effects of that grueling dumpster match earlier in the evening. Nevertheless though his head raises to his take in the sight of a now concerned Cruze.

Nathan: Do I really look that bad?

Quickly the Icon tries to come up with some horrible distortion of the truth to make Creed feel better before he just shrugs his shoulders and nods his head.

Cruze: Creed, you’d make shit look sexy right now.

Nathan wants to smile but can’t, so just shakes his head while further applying the bandage to his head wound. Something other than just aches and pains inflicted on him from that dumpster match seems to be eating away at him, unable to even bring himself to make eye contact with Cruze. It’s obvious that there’s something more troubling Nathan, which sparks Orlando’s interest, enticing him to step further into the dressing room.

Orlando: Something eating you man? You don’t seem your usual melodramatic self. Well, actually you do, but your just a little more melodramatic than usual.

Again Creed fails to produce a smile while further pushing the bandage against his forehead, further intriguing Orlando.

Cruze: Seriously though, what’s wrong?

Nathan is almost flabbergasted with Cruze for even asking such a stupid question, finally raising his head to stare into his friend’s face.

Creed: Oh, let’s see, I got the hell beat out of me earlier in the show, and plus we’ve got some fruit-loop playing messages on the titontron trying to mess with us. Other than that, I’m just hunky-dory.

The large open palms of Orlando are extended out in Nathan’s direction, insisting that he stop and chill perhaps.

Orlando: Jeez, sorry I asked Nathan, I didn’t know you were on the rag. Just relax though, I’m telling you there’s nothing to worry about when it comes to whatever hasbeen is trying to make a name for themselves by playing those goofy messages on the titontron. It’s nothing to worry about.

Nathan: Nothing to worry about!?! I wish I could believe that Cruze.

The former Annihilation World Champion rises to his feet and immediately steps towards Orlando, his eyes full of anger but clouded with concern. Orlando doesn’t like the look in his partner’s eyes.

Orlando: Well then believe it, there’s nothing to worry about whatsoever.

Nathan: Maybe you can be apathetic about this whole deal, but I can’t. I’m just getting one of those ominous feelings. I’m starting to think something really bad is about to happen.

Cruze’s eyes become shifty after Nathan explains this.

Cruze: This isn’t going to end with you faking your own death via car explosion is it?

The joke fails to make Nathan laugh, but he does produce a smile.

Creed: There you go again Cruze, making a joke out of something serious. I just wish you’d trust me for once when I tell you something. I’ve got a really bad feeling deep down in my gut that something bad is going to happen tonight, and it’s only going to be the start of something worse.

Orlando shrugs his shoulders, trying to be serious but incapable of producing a smile.

Orlando: What’s worse than AWOL getting his jollies booking me in horrid mid-card level matches? Are you sure you didn’t take one too many blows to the head out there earlier?

Cruze tries to look into Nathan’s eyes, to make sure he’s not losing his mind while placing his hand reassuringly on his shoulder. However, Creed is quick to knock said hand away and step up close to Cruze so he can see just how serious he is.

Nathan: Quit joking around! I’m telling you right now man, I don’t think you should go out there and compete with Chris Cagero, I think we should get our bags and leave. Leave before it’s too late.

Even though Orlando knows just how serious his associate is, he can’t help but to produce a minor chuckle while again shaking his head.

Orlando: Listen to you, these little messages on the titontron have really unnerved you haven’t they? I’ll tell you what. I’ll go make quick work of Chris Cagero in the ring, then afterwards we’ll leave, and go have a few beers. Just learn to relax a little man, everything’s going to be alright. After all, I can stick up for myself.

Still smiling Cruze goes to leave the dressing room before Nathan grabs hold of his wrist, keeping him from leaving. Orlando glances down at the hand of Nathan gripping his wrist so snugly before he looks back up into the eyes of the Future. He can see all the care and concern present within them.

Nathan:....Don’t.

Although the look he’s receiving somewhat distresses him, Orlando pulls his arm out of the grasp of his partner and shakes his head.

Cruze: For the last time, don’t worry, your not my mother. I’ll be fine. And rest assure, I’ll be 100% Sunday at Born Again, when we tear the house down.

Cruze pats Nathan on the shoulder before turning and making his way out the door. He leaves Creed standing there, with a very perplexed, concerned expression on his face, which drops to stare down at the floor. As Orlando makes his way out into the hallway he closes the door behind him, about to begin heading for the ring since his match is mere moments away. Right before he can though he feels the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, causing him to spin around and find himself glaring up into the face of Chris Cagero. A loud mixed response comes from the crowd as Cagero stands with his large shoulder pressed against the wall, just a few inches away from Orlando and the dressing room he just departed. Orlando’s eyebrow raises at the sight of Chris, who has a rather emotionless expression on his face.

Orlando: Were you just listening to that entire conversation?

A slight smile creeps onto Chris’ face while he nods his massive skull a little.

Chris: It was kind of hard not to listen, it was very intriguing after all.

Cruze steps forward, jabbing his finger into Cagero’s chest with no fear whatsoever over the massive figure before him.

Orlando: I’m only going to tell you this once. Stop following me around, stop eavesdropping on my conversations.

Again the otherwise placid face of Cagero produces a smile.

Cagero: That’s rather difficult, Orlando, especially when your conversations involve more than just you.

Orlando: What?

Chris: Believe it or not, there’s more at stake than just yourself. Regardless of rather we’re opponents again tonight or not, I’m here to help you get through this cloudy period of your life. I really do think you should start listening to your little friend, Nathan. He was right to warn you, but you wouldn’t even pay him the slightest bit of attention. Something bad is going to happen Orlando, rather you accept that fact or not.

Orlando tries to make sense of what Chris just told him before shaking his head.

Orlando: You know what, enough is enough, that’s it. I don’t need your damned help, and I don’t need Nathan’s either. The only person who should be worried about something bad happening to them tonight, is you.

After jabbing Chris in the chest with his finger, the Icon turns, marching off in defiance. Cagero watches him leave with little to no display of emotion.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

PROVE YOUR LOVE

The scene opens backstage with what appears to be an argument, loud shrill voices carrying through the corridors and bouncing from the plain white walls. The camera moves past the wall quickly and finally ends up facing down the corridor where both the X-Class Champion Robin, and the World Heavyweight title holder Hurse, are gathered. They are both mere inches away from one another, Hurse red in the face while Robin stands defiantly before him, her belt glistening over shoulder and reflecting her angered features.

Robin: I can’t believe you did this Steven? Why are you being so possessive? Can’t I have friends?

Hurse steps forward, pointing his trembling finger right in Robin’s face, seconds away from absolutely snapping, imploding in fact. His chest heaves with anger, trying to control himself, attempting from lashing out and saying something he’ll later regret.

Hurse: Not when that friend is that manipulative son of a bitch Killjoy. Not when your friend is someone you use to fuck!

This demand causes Robin to be taken aback somewhat, her eyes open widely and her mouth hanging agape. She refuses to accept Hurse’s order before stepping forward and stomping on his foot, the World Champion grimacing in pain as he reaches for his toes.

Brooks: Let’s get one thing straight here, Steven. Nobody controls me, nobody tells me who I can, and can’t be friends with. You had no right to ban Killjoy from the arena tonight with your bogus excuses. I don’t see why you don’t trust me.

After nursing his soar toe for a moment he lowers it back down to the floor and glares with a bit of anger into Robin’s features, full of conviction and determination.

Hurse: Your showing me right now why I can’t trust you when Killjoy is around. Look at you, all bent out of shape because he won’t be at ringside. Your acting like you can’t compete without him, like he’s that special to you. Well I’ll let you in on a little secret Robin, Killjoy isn’t special at all. He’s nothing, he’s a nobody. He’s a hasbeen who’s going to do nothing more than try and rekindle both a dead career and a dead relationship. He doesn’t seem capable of getting it through his thick, cracked skull, that we’re together, that what the two of you had is long gone. Even if you do still have feelings for him, even if you two have been meeting secretly behind my back, what he wants won’t and can’t happen.

Robin: Meeting secretly behind your back?

Hurse: Jackson told me what he saw you two doing two weeks ago, don’t even try to deny it.

Robin appears confused before she remembers the meeting she and Killjoy had in her dressing room. She tries to force a grin and explain herself but Hurse will hear none of it.

Hurse: I don’t even want to hear you try and explain yourself to me Robin. You betrayed my trust in you, and I’ll never be able to forgive you for that. I know something is going on, oh yes, I do. I have eyes and ears everywhere Robin.

Brooks: Jackson Adams is a lying toad, Steven. There’s absolutely nothing going on between Killjoy and I. We’re just friends, friends God dammit!

Brooks puts her hand on Hurse’s forearm before he smacks it away and looks into her eyes with absolute rage. The Black Widow is shocked by his behavior, having never seen this side of the World Champion before.

Hurse: I can’t trust anything your telling me Robin.

Brooks: I’m telling you the truth.

Hurse: So you say. If you really want me to believe you, if you really want to get my trust back, then you’ll stop seeing Killjoy. You won’t see him, you won’t call him, you won’t even e-mail him! If you love me, prove it! You’ve got to earn my trust back. Because if you ever see him again, so help me God, I’ll leave you!

Again Robin’s mouth is hanging wide open as Hurse leans in almost threatening towards her, shivering with anger, veins protruding through his red flesh.

Hurse: Now go out there and have a great match honey.

Hurse smiles, his personality completely changing before he leans in and plants a soft little kiss on the X-Class Champion’s forehead. After that he marches around her, walking off and leaving Robin standing there in a stunned state. Her eyes dart back and forth, trying to make sense out of all this.

AURORA ROSE & STACY RAINES VS. BITCHCAKES McPHEE & ROBIN BROOKS

Dan: What a classless, classless human being, Hurse is.

Mayne: What? He was just laying the law down to Robin. He can’t have her running around spreading her legs for everyone.

Douglas: You listen to Jackson Adams way too often.

Billy: Of course, he’s the only person in the IWC who has the balls to tell the truth. And he displayed just how big his testies were by just firing Jon Rich and Roxas Knoxx right in the middle of the ring, hahahaha.

Call me when your sober hits the speakers , Stacy walks out when the music really gets heavy she raiss her arms, the crowed cheers she runs down to the ing and slides under the bottom rope, she jumps up and climbs the turn buckle she raises her fingers in the metal sign and then smiles and backflips of landing on her feet, once again she raises one arm to a metal sign above her head and waits for the match to start.

Mayne: See, this is what I don’t understand for the life of me. Stacy Raines didn’t win that triple threat contract match last week, so why the hell is she even in this match? Why isn’t she sitting at home eating Vianna Sausages and watching old episodes of Three’s Company where she belongs?

Douglas: Billy, I don’t think anyone belongs in that position.

Billy: I am every night.

Dan: Which explains a lot. But the fact of the matter is, Stacy impressed a lot of people last week, and since she wasn’t pinned or submitted, she’s been given a second chance here tonight to prove her worth while also earning an official IWC contract.

Mayne: Man, Desolation was right, this show has more logic gaps than an episode of Melrose Place.

Stacy is getting antsy in the ring, really wanting to prove herself, desperate to show what she’s made of before Why Do You Love me by Garbage is heard throughout the building, everyone rising to their feet, really going nuts. Through the curtains strolls a slow, sluggish Aurora Rose who is gripping at her lower back in pain. She sluggishly makes her way down the ramp, gripping at the back of her neck while Stacy watches on with a concerned expression on her face. Even though clearly in a great deal of pain after that attack at the hands of Pat Evans, she makes her way up the steps onto the apron then slips into the ring. Stacy steps towards her, asking about her condition but Aurora waves her off, ensuring her that she’ll be okay.

Billy: Well, I think you hit the nail on the head a few seconds ago Dan, instead of accidently hitting your thumb and ultimately getting blood all over the place. Stacy is going to have to do a lot of proving, because she’s got to carry not only her own weight, but the weight of a hilariously injured Aurora Rose as well.

Douglas: As much as I hate to agree with you, because it makes me want to go to the back and slit both my wrist doing so, but you’ve got it right for a change Billy. Aurora should not be out here competing, she was attacked savagely from behind by Pat Evans with that chair earlier in the night, and who knows what condition she’s in. In this case, it’s better to be safe, by not competing, instead of sorry, by risking further injury.

Mayne: I like the way I put it better.

Stacy is still asking about the condition of Aurora while she twists her neck back and forth, trying to get some of the aches and pains out of it. The sound of a beer can opening and being poured echoes through the P.A. Systems and the Crowd begins to go nuts. As the opening verse of BEER! by Psychostick begins to play, Bitchcakes McPhee stumbles out from behind the curtain and waddles down the entrance ramp, slapping every last hand of fans he sees.

"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!"

After the rowdy chorus Bitchcakes ascends the turnbuckles and drunkenly falls off, before doing a few stretches waiting for the bell to ring. The lyrics to his entrance music seem to be making him parched though while he stares at a beer vendor in the crowd, calling out for one. Instead of it being handed to him the beer guy makes a money motion, insisting he get paid first. This causes McPhee to reach into his pockets, pulling them to reveal that they’re empty. The crowd unleashes a simultaneous “awww” at this sight of this before McPhee sighs and then turns towards referee Wright who is insisting he get in his corner. McPhee then nods, acknowledging the official’s request before motioning in a worried manner towards Stacy in the corner. The official turns around suddenly before Bitchcakes reaches into his pocket from behind, removing a bundle of dollar bills then lifting them in the air so the beer vendor can see it. McPhee then promptly vacates the ring, walks to the barricade, hands over his money and receives a frosty cold glass of beer.

Mayne: So nice of McPhee to come out here and grace us with his annoying presence, and in the process show why the man should be in a drunken holding tank instead of being out here and competing.

Douglas: Again, although it causes me to be suicidal at the thought of it, I have to agree with you. McPhee is not your normal every day wrestler, and probably doesn’t even truly understand what his profession is, considering his usual drunken hijinks. But that doesn’t take away from his overall wrestling ability, and how impressive he’s been in that ring.

Bitchcakes leans against the barricade, downing the beer while referee Wright begins to check his pockets in the center of the ring. Rumor by Lindsey Lohan then hits the PA system and through the curtains strolls Robin Brooks with her head hanging down and the X-Class title glistening over her shoulder. Pyrotechnics explode from both sides of the stage as she strolls between the fireworks, briefly lifting her belt into the air to receive much fanfare. She doesn’t look to be her normal happy glowing self, instead she appears rather saddened, depressed, moving melodramatically towards the ring. She jumps onto the apron then slips through the ropes to the interior with her head still hanging down, her hair hiding her face a bit while she lifts the X-Class again into the air. Even through her pain Aurora smiles in her direction, Stacy speaking reassuringly into her ear.

Douglas: This is exactly why I am so irate with the Alpha Generation, and namely our World Heavyweight Champion. Just look at what he’s done to Robin. He’s completely and utterly demoralized her. Usually this woman is full of life and energy, but tonight, after Killjoy has been banned from the arena, and after being chewed out backstage, she just looks horrible.

Mayne: I’ve been saying she looked horrible for years. Again, she get the treatment you deserve, and that’s especially true in Robin’s case. If she were more loyal, if she actually proved her love for Hurse, she wouldn’t get the verbal beratings she’s been receiving.

Douglas: It seems everyone has come into this match not exactly their normal selves, I wonder how it will effect them in this type of environment.

Billy: Normal selves? None of these people were normal in the first place.

Bitchcakes climbs up onto the apron and stares towards Robin who just throws her belt across the ring, not even caring about it. She then turns towards McPhee, pointing to herself then in the direction of their opponents, insisting she start this match off. McPhee raises his hands, not even arguing with her but providing a large burp as his rebuttal. Surprisingly Aurora is insisting that she start the match off for her team as Stacy argues with her before finally sighing and slipping through the ropes to the apron. Now both Aurora and Robin start to circle one another with Rose craning her neck, trying to block the pain coursing through it. Both ladies immediately step forward, locking up in a collar elbow now, both having something to be very pissed off about. They jockey against one another in a collar elbow tie before Robin slips around behind the woman she is no stranger to, applying a reverse waist lock. Aurora tries to fight it by performing a standing switch but Robin then changes her waist lock up into a full nelson, attempting to get it applied in order to target the back of her neck. Aurora grunts then pushes backwards, charging Robin across the ring and driving her spine first against the turnbuckle. The force of the impact causes Robin’s arms to fall over the ropes and her back to remain pressed to the turnbuckle, a bit of a painful expression in her otherwise angry face. That’s when Aurora turns around and quickly jumps into the air, placing her feet to Robin’s gut while locking her hands around the back of her neck. She drops down out of the canvas and flips Robin out of the corner with the monkey toss. The crowd screams though as Robin flips over and lands right on her feet before turning to face Aurora who has gotten to her feet, charging in quickly.

The Black Widow is now the one who jumps into the air though, placing her feet to Aurora’s gut and grabbing her by the back of the head, dropping in reverse with a huge monkey toss. Aurora is flipped over through the air, but shows remarkable agility by turning just in time to land feet first on the second rope out of the monkey flip position. She then springs off the ropes, flipping over into a moonsault directly at Robin who rolls out of the way. Thus Rose charges up the move at he last second, landing on her feet while Brooks gets up in front of her. The fans clap their hands as the X-Class Champion and Aurora put on a fighting stance but abruptly freeze, having a stand off.

Douglas: What amazing agility by both ladies, I’ve never seen anything quite like what these two X-Class based competitors just did.

Mayne: One of the many hallmarks of the X-Class division, insane acrobatics and agility displayed all around. I’d almost say I’d like to spend a night with either one of these lasses to see just how agile they are, but I’m sure plenty of other men have found that out already.

Robin and Aurora nod in one another’s directions before they move around one another. Again Rose is cracking her neck while Robin just stares forward with anger. They both rush forward and go into another collar elbow before Rose catches Brooks by the arm. She swings around under it, applying the arm ringer before using her gripped wrist to pull Brooks towards her. As soon as she does she drives her forearm right into the side of Robin’s face, staggering for only a second till Aurora jumps into the air, swinging around with her foot for a huge spinning heel kick. Although she gets a lot of height, Robin drops down into a forward roll, getting to her feet right as Aurora lands on the canvas with her back facing the Black Widow. Brooks charges forward quickly at Aurora who turns into a huge discus style lariat that Robin ducks before charging into the cables behind her. She jumps into the air, landing feet first on the second cable then springing off, turning in mid-air to face Rose, who spins around quickly. Robin tilts her body enough to catch Rose around the arm, dropping to the canvas and connecting with a sprinboard spinning arm drag, but somehow Aurora cartwheels over across the canvas, avoiding being slammed to the ring. She lands right on her feet then winces in pain while holding the back of her neck. But she tries not to let it bother or slow her down as Robin rises to her feet, charging right at her, trying to catch her before she can get her bearings. The Black Widow jumps high into the air, landing right on Aurora’s shoulders, going for a hurricarana only for Rose to push her off, sending her flipping over backwards right onto her feet. As soon as she lands, crouched over, Aurora steps forward, slapping on a front gantry, going for a big DDT. Robin reaches out, wrapping her arms around Aurora’s waist then dropping back into a huge bridging Northern lights suplex.

Official Wright drops down to make the count before Robin flips over backwards right onto her knees with her shoulder still buried directly into Aurora’s gut, realizing it will take more to put her opponent away than just that. She then slides forward and reaches down with her arms, wrapping them around Aurora’s neck, applying a side headlock. Robin is maliciously trying to target the back of her neck it seems while Aurora lies on her spine across the canvas, trying to get out of this hold. Suddenly Rose displays more of her athletic ability by bridging up off the canvas and out of the side headlock, standing up right behind Robin who is seated on the canvas with confusion draped over her features. Before she even realizes it, Aurora delivers a blistering, brutal kick right to the back of her head. The buzzsaw like strike causes Robin to arch her spine and yell out in pain, yet remain seated on the canvas as Aurora sticks her hand out, tagging in Stacy. Raines enters the ring and positions herself in the corner before Aurora jumps over top of Robin and goes into a roll where she ends up right on her feet. After briefly grabbing the back of her neck, Aurora rushes forward and jumps into the air, flipping over top of Robin’s head and catching hold of it in the process. She performs a seated flip over reverse neckbreaker, pulling Robin’s head down hard back first into the canvas. But Aurora shows some quick thinking by keeping her arm wrapped around Brook’s neck, rolling over sideways onto her knees and pulling the X-Class Champion with her. Both women get to their feet with Aurora holding Robin in a front chancery before she lifts her into the air in a vertical suplex position. Stacy then steps in, facing the opposite direction of Aurora and reaching out, wrapping her arm around Robin’s waist while she is being held upside down. Aurora now drops back into the vertical suplex while Raines drags the champion down with almost a side buster slam. As soon as Robin’s body hits the ring with Stacy coming down in a seated position next to her, she reaches out, hooking Brook’s leg.

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Somehow the X-Class Champion is able to kick out even after that devastating tag team move while Aurora reluctantly vacates the ring, perhaps trying to over compensate for her obvious injury.

Mayne: Stacy Raines and Aurora Rose surprisingly showing some excellent teamwork in their against the X-Class Champion. But I wonder how long they’ll be able to work as a cohesive unit seeing as both have to be desiring getting a possible win over the Champ, as one would have to believe that would put them in immediate contention for the X-Class title.

Douglas: A valid point, Billy. But I don’t know if it’s just me or not, although Robin is busting out some ingenious moves and counters, she just does not look all their mentally.

Billy: Any woman who would crawl into bed with Killjoy can’t be all their mentally in the first place.

Stacy rolls over backwards right onto her knees at both sides of Robin’s head, reaching down and wrapping her arm around it. She pulls it up into a quick dragon sleeper, really bending the X-Class Champion’s head over backwards into this submission hold. Yet Brooks refuses to stay down for long, bridging her way up off the canvas right onto her feet, but Stacy standing up behind her, maintaining control with the dragon sleeper. Just then Robin cuts her own legs out from beneath her, falling towards the canvas back first before rolling in reverse, standing on her head as she lifts her up, wrapping them around Stacy’s head. She then twists her body around so that she can place her palms to the canvas while her legs are still extended upward, wrapped around Raines’ head. The crowd starts to cheer as Robin pushes herself around on her palms then shoves off the canvas, hanging from Stacy’s head with her ankles crossed behind the back of her opponent’s neck. She makes several revolutions while pulling Stacy around then finally snaps off, flipping Raines over with a version of the head scissors. Robin quickly rises to her feet with Stacy rolling to her hands and knees just a few inches removed Bitchcakes and their corner. That’s when Robin comes charging in quickly, jumping forward and wrapping her hands around Stacy’s chin, flipping over her body. Robin lands on her feet but is bridging over backwards with the reverse chin lock applied to a screaming Stacy. With her one free hand though the Black Widow extends it upward and McPhee reaches in, slapping it. He then slips through the ropes and charges across the ring into the opposite ropes, bouncing off them before rushing back in. He springs into the air and delivers a hard dropkick right to the entirely exposed face of Stacy while she still trapped in the bridging reverse chin lock. Again cheers come from the crowd as Robin breaks the chin lock and rolls away, Stacy going into convulsions on the canvas as she holds her face in pain. She rolls onto her back now with McPhee quickly crawling into the cover, taking great pleasure in hooking her leg.

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Raines kicks out to some cheers from the fans while McPhee sits up, appearing somewhat jilted that he didn’t get the win. He then looks over his shoulder at Stacy lying across her back and gets a somewhat demented twinkle in his eye. McPhee quickly stands up and steps so that both his feet are on opposite sides of Stacy’s head then drops down with his posterior and crotch landing right on top of Raine’s face, pushing her down into a pinning predicament. Bitchcakes smiles while the official makes the count.

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Suddenly Bitchcake’s face fills with anguish and pain, taking deep breaths as he immediately rises to his feet, revealing Stacy sitting up beneath him, sinking her teeth into the lower extremities of the former contender for the X-Class title. Her teeth seem to be embedded right in his testicles as the crowd gasps and groans, many fans in the front row covering their testicles in sympathy. Stacy unclamps her teeth then turns so that she can reach up, grabbing McPhee around the leg and rolling him over backwards into a small package.

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McPhee somehow kicks out in the nick of time, falling over to his hands and knees while reaching for his privates in a great deal of pain. His hand shifts from one testicle to the other, ensuring that they’re both still present.

Douglas: That was a counter I’ve never seen before.

Mayne: And I pray for the sake of preventing sympathy pains we never have to see it again. Ouch.

The pain ridden McPhee is still on all fours, checking on his testicles while the somewhat deranged Stacy gets up at his side and charges forward. She jumps into the air, landing feet first right on top of McPhee’s back then springing into the air. She flips over backwards with airborne and comes down with a moonsault right on top of Bitchcakes’ back, the fans reacting with shock at the sight of what they just witnessed. Everyone is standing, putting their hands together at the sight of that acrobatic maneuver just performed by Stacy Raines, McPhee rolling onto his back in pain while his opponent gets up beside him. She then jumps over McPhee, charging into the cables and jumping into the air, she springs off the second rope in reverse, connecting with a lionsault. It seems to knock all the air out of Bitchcakes before Raines falls forward into the cover.

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Again Bitchcakes kicks out with a few seconds to spare. An agitated Stacy stomps him to the back of the head then approaches her corner, slapping Aurora’s hand as she enters the ring. Rose steps towards Bitchcakes then turns her back towards him while he is lying in a prone state, raising her foot into the air. Stacy reaches out, cupping it with her own hands and lifting up on it quickly, sending Rose flipping over backwards then twisting into a huge corkscrew moonsault right on top of Bitchcakes. The fans react with shock over what they just saw as Aurora hooks the battered McPhee’s leg. Stacy charges at Robin who is trying to enter the ring to break up the count.

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Bitchcakes gets his shoulder in time while Robin ducks an attempted lariat from Stacy, charging across the ring into the opposite ropes, bouncing off and coming back in at Aurora who is standing up in front of her. Rose bends forward quickly, catching Robin’s thighs and lifting her into the air, throwing her over her head right at Stacy. She turns around just in time for Brooks to land on her shoulders and then swing around into a huge hurricarana that flips Raines over, sending her crashing her into the canvas. Aurora turns to face Robin in an angry manner, beginning to move towards her while the fans are still screaming at the sight of what they just witnessed. But as soon as she takes a step forward, Bitchcakes reaches up, catching her by the ankle and lifting up on it, thus causing her to crash forward into the canvas. McPhee then stands up, stepping over her back and lifting her legs into the air under his armpits. He has her placed in a liontamer, standing straight up though with Aurora pushes herself up onto her elbows behind his back, yelling in pain. That’s when Robin charges into the ropes in front of McPhee, before charging in and jumping high into the air. She gets tremendous height before landing feet first right on top of both McPhee’s shoulders, standing there for a second then jumping off as she twists her body, coming down with a leg drop right onto the back of Aurora’s head. The fans immediately get to their feet, everyone going nuts over what they just saw transpire. Before they can even begin to really celebrate though, Bitchcakes breaks the liontamer, charging into the ropes at Aurora’s side as she tries to push herself to her elbows and knees. Before she can, McPhee bounces off the cables, coming back in and jumping high into the air. He extends his back and comes down with a back first senton splash across her kidney area, knocking her right back down to the canvas face first.

Fans: IWC! IWC! IWC!

Douglas: Can you believe this Billy!?!

Mayne: I have to admit that was an amazing series of tag team moves just performed here. These two teams are really showing what the X-Class can bring to the table here in the IWC. There is literally no holding back here.

Dan: I am just speechless over what we’re seeing these four do to each other in what has been a fast paced spectacle thus far.

The crowd is still standing and chanting over what they saw happen in this tag team match while Aurora lies on the canvas writhing in agony. Official Wright drops down in front of her, checking on her condition, ensuring that she’s okay but looking clearly distressed over her well being. Nevertheless Bitchcakes scoots across his knees and crawls into the cover on her, Wright forced to make the count.

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No, Aurora somehow gets her shoulder off the canvas, even though her eyes are very glazed over, and her pupils are clearly dilated, reaching for the back of her neck in the process. McPhee rises to his feet and grabs her by the hair, dragging her to her knees then looking around crudely at the fans. It doesn’t appear that he learned his lesson yet as he begins to swing his hips around in front of a possibly injured Aurora Rose’s face, making sure his previously attacked goods are shaken right in front of her face. He now drags her head between his legs then pulls her to her feet, bending forward and wrapping his arms around her waist. Bitchakes hoists her up into the air onto a single shoulder, holding her in an awesome bomb position while Stacy pulls herself up onto the apron in front of them, using the cables to reach a standing base. She then grabs the top rope and springs up onto it before launching herself off, going into a sideways corkscrew then landing a kick right to McPhee’s face. The impact knocks him silly, causing him to stagger while Aurora twists her body so that her gut is on top of Bitchcakes’ shoulder, reaching back with her arm and wrapping it around McPhee’s throat. Stacy then gets to her feet and charges into the ropes behind him, bouncing off and coming back in with a huge front dropkick directly to the back of her leg. The impact swipes McPhee’s legs out from under him while Aurora pulls him over backwards into a huge reverse DDT. Bitchcakes’ skull crashes with a hard thud into the ring while he sits up now, a very groggy expression residing on his face. Aurora and Stacy get up on both sides of him then deliver a double buzzsaw kick, one to his chest, and the other to his upper back. McPhee falls to the canvas, beginning to go into convulsions while Aurora tumbles to her knees, still gripping at the back of her neck in tremendous pain.

Douglas: Some more tandem offense from both Aurora and Stacy. These two working surprisingly well together as a team.

Mayne: They might make a good edition to the tag team division, assuming if we actually had a tag team division and excluding the fact that Aurora’s career will be over in just a week at Born Again when she faces Pat Evans.

Robin is now standing in their corner, shouting for Bitchcakes to get up, begging him to do so while Aurora rolls McPhee to his knees, locking on a front chancery submission hold. She squeezes at his skull with all her strength, even though she appears now to have that much of it considering the way her neck and head have been impacted so many times in this contest. But she refuses to give up, or even tag out, fulfilling her obligations by trying to earn the submission on an incredibly dazed Bitchcakes, and thus perhaps earn herself a possible future shot at the X-Class title. McPhee begins to force himself upward though while Robin slaps her hand against the turnbuckle pad repeatedly, the fans getting to their feet, driving their palms into the barricades and stomping their feet as well. They are calling for Bitchcakes to get up, to get back into this match at all cost. Yet his body is drained, failing to properly exert itself to get him out of this submission predicament that Aurora has gotten properly applied. Rose squeezes at his head again almost forcing McPhee back down to a single knee. Instead of falling to the canvas though he lets out a loud...

Bitchcakes: MOOOOOO!!

...Rising to his feet then standing up as he pushes his hands against Aurora’s gut, lifting her up high into the air. He shoves her off his head and sends her flying upward then coming back down into Bitchcakes who has turned enough to hop into the air, catching her around the neck and delivering a huge diamond cutter. The crowd again cheers in a state of shock over the big move McPhee just delivered to Aurora who rolls across the canvas, flopping up and down, again reaching for her head. Bitchcakes rolls to his knees with Robin clapping her hands, really starting to get excited as she thrust her open palm into the ring, demanding a tag. McPhee sees it while reaching his feet, attempting to reach her before he turns to spot Stacy who is charging across the squared circle. She jumps into the air and again goes into a sideways corkscrew, attempting that big kick to his face. Bitchcakes ducks it though at the last second, causing Stacy to flip sideways over his head then land on her feet right in front of him, her back facing him. McPhee turns around, burying his shoulder to her spine then lifting her up into the air in a back drop suplex position. Stacy does some quick thinking though by floating over with a backwards flip off his shoulder. However, McPhee thinks a little quicker by spinning around and pushing up on her a bit so that she flips over and lands on top of his shoulders, Bitchcakes powerbombing her violently to the canvas. Again the crowd finds themselves cheering loudly at the sight of this while McPhee falls onto his back, appearing spent after those last two big, incredible moves.

Douglas: McPhee busting out some moves we’ve never seen him utilize before. That was amazing how he twisted Stacy around from the back drop position into a powerbomb when she attempted to counter with that reverse flip. My eyes have never seen anything like the moves we’ve witnessed in this match before.

Mayne: I’m just as stunned as you are Dan. I didn’t know Bitchcakes even knew how to really wrestle, but here he is performing some of the most brutal moves I’ve ever witnessed.

Again Robin is slapping her hand against the turnbuckle while the fans are clapping, everyone really enjoying the amazing matches they’re seeing in this X-Class style match up. They are also motivating Bitchcakes to get back to his feet, the still exhausted drunken superstar rolling to his side sluggishly. His dazed eyes rise to take in the sight of Robin before he gets to all fours, beginning to crawl towards her in desperation. Spit seeps from the side of his mouth, drooling like he’s got a concussion or just from tying on one too many. Aurora is surprisingly starting to get to her feet though, still holding the back of her neck while her whole body trembles from the damage done both in this match and prior to it. Stacy is also getting up as they both turn to stop Bitchcakes who lungs forward, slapping Robin’s hand. She immediately steps across the apron to the middle of it and then grabs the top rope, jumping over it as she turns and lands feet first on the middle cable. She springs off it backwards with a huge double back elbow right to the sternums of both Aurora and Stacy, knocking them down to the canvas with a thunderous ovation. As soon as Robin hits the ring she rolls over in reverse onto her feet, screaming for both woman to get up. The X-Class Champion has never appeared so intense while both lovely females get up in front of her. She steps towards Stacy immediately, who is the first to get to her feet, kicking her to the gut then placing her in a front gantry. She jumps high into the air and spins around, going for a tornado DDT while Aurora gets up as well, Robin’s legs swinging towards her. Brooks seems to be going for a kick to the back of her head while holding Stacy in a tornado DDT position but Rose reaches out, catching her legs on top of her shoulders. She turns Robin so that both of her ankles are on both her shoulders, pushing her around so that her face is directly on top of Stacy’s shoulder as well. Aurora now pushes up on her shins, sending her into a position where she’s elevated in the air by Stacy in what looks like a vertical suplex position. However, Robin slips off her shoulder and falls behind her back while wrapping her arm around her chin, pulling Stacy over into a huge reverse ace crusher. The crowd again screams at the sight of this while the back of Stacy’s head bounces off Robin’s shoulder, followed by her tiny frame going into convulsions across the canvas.

Robin sits there, catching her breath now while Aurora jumps over her, charging into the ropes and bouncing off, coming back in with a huge seated front dropkick right to Brooks’ face. A groan comes from the crowd at the sound of the thunderous kick directly to Robin’s face, knocking her onto her back while Aurora gets up, shouting down at her and gripping at the back of her head. She then turns around right in time to be hit to the gut with devastating force with a huge spear from McPhee. The force of which almost ripped her in half, but instead sends her flipping over backwards, her head crashing hard off the canvas. Bitchcakes rises right to his feet and begins to shout his praises while slapping his fist, then motioning for another beer from the vendor. He doesn’t even notice a dazed Stacy getting up behind his back though, stepping in and jumping into the air. She lands right on top of his shoulders, seated across the back of his head before dropping in reverse, pulling Bitchcakes into a backwards hurricarana, flipping him over in reverse so that he crashes hard right across the top of his cranium. The fans find themselves going nuts once again while Bitchcakes bounces into the air then drops onto his back, looking out of it.

Mayne: Another series of sensational, hard hitting moves in this X-Class division showcase. Remind me to add that clip of McPhee almost cutting Aurora in half with the spear to my DVR collection, Dan.

Douglas: I am amazed by the things these four are doing to each other. I didn’t know how good this confrontation would be considering just about all the competitor’s minds are on other things, but they’re showing me why I should never doubt such phenomenal athletes.

The crowd is still going nuts while Robin slowly gets to her feet, holding her jaw in pain. She turns towards Stacy who is utilizing the ropes to pull herself to her feet, still feeling the repercussions of that flip over reverse neckbreaker. Finally Stacy spins around to face the X-Class Champion who is barreling towards her. Raines bends forward though, catching Robin against her shoulders and lifting her into the air, trying to back drop her over the ropes. But Brooks reaches out, grabbing the top cable then floating over onto the apron. Stacy spins around to face her in shock before Robin drops to her seat on the apron then slides under the ropes, ending up behind Raines while reaching up, wrapping her arms around her waist to go for a sunset flip style pin. No, Stacy drops down knees first into Robin’s shoulders, pinning them to the canvas while wrapping her arms around the middle rope for leverage. Wright doesn’t see it as he drops and makes the count.

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Robin lifts her legs into the air, wrapping them around in front of Stacy’s shoulders, prying her arms off the ropes and pulling her over backwards into a sunset flip pin. Again Stacy counters though by rolling over in reverse out of the pin, directly onto her knees with Robin standing up in front of her. As soon as Brooks gets to her feet, she spins around and connects with a judo style spinning back kick right to Stacy’s face, the impact of which knocks Raines onto her back and causes the crowd to scream with disbelief over the force of the collision. The camera briefly cuts to Aurora lying on the outside mats, barely moving with her eyes as wide as saucers, holding onto the back of her head throughout the process. Robin now turns, moving towards the turnbuckle and jumping into the air. She spins around while landing feet first on the top rope and launching herself off into a huge shooting star press right on top of the prone Stacy. The X-Class Champion follows up by hooking Stacy’s leg.

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3!

The crowd goes nuts as this fast paced, hard hitting, agile match finally concludes with Bitchcakes McPhee and Robin Brooks picking up a hard fought victory.

Douglas: It’s over, it’s over. Robin Brooks and Bitchcakes McPhee have won it thanks to the Black Widow’s shooting star press!

Mayne: Even though I don’t particularly care for any of those who were involved in this match, I will say that was one hell of a performance from everyone in that ring. They all still suck though.

The crowd is standing, cheering loudly for the winners of this match up while Robin gets to her feet and McPhee works his way to his as well, staggering around a bit. Referee Wright steps forward, grabbing both their wrists and thrusting their arms into the air while at ringside EMTs have come out to check on Aurora, who may have sustained a serious injury as a result of competing in this match with a preexisting damage having already been done to her at the hands of Pat Evans. This doesn’t take away from the celebration in the ring though as McPhee and Robin turn towards one another, the two grasping hands and raising them into the air in victory. That’s before Robin realizes Bitchcakes’ eyes are again settled solely on her chest. Robin’s eyes narrow on McPhee in anger before she pulls her hand back and slaps him hard straight across the cheek. The collision causes Bitchcakes to be staggered, grabbing at his jaw in pain then turning his head back in Robin’s direction as she storms out of the ring. The X-Class Champion does not look happy in the slightest, and appears to have taken out her frustration on McPhee, who rubs at his cheek in shock. He then shrugs his shoulders, as if having no idea what to think before smiling slightly as he turns towards an equally as confused official.

McPhee: She must like it rough.

ASSASSINATION

A loud collection of boos echo throughout the backstage area at the sight of the one and only Pat Evans. He has a rather apathetic, but slightly annoyed expression on his face while he stands with his side to a wall, staring forward and nodding his head slowly. He doesn’t appear all that excited or enthused in the slightest. The only thought that appears to amuse him is the condition he left Aurora Rose in during her match a few moments ago. The camera pans out a bit to reveal the man, the myth, the legend that is Desolation. This of course stirs up even further anger and agitation from the fans, none of which finding the sight of the Dark Man all that pleasant, no matter how well dressed he is this evening. Evans stares forward into Desolation who is chatting away, but almost seems to be looking past him, thinking about his upcoming Livewire title match while he slowly tapes his wrist.

Desolation: Now listen, and listen closely Evans, because I’m only going to say this once, or really as many times as it takes for you to understand. I know guys like you have limited brain capacity for understanding, but that’s okay, I’m willing to work with you here....

Evans rolls his eyes while Desolation continues, doing so in an almost excited manner.

Desolation: I have to comment that I really enjoyed what you did to Aurora Rose earlier. It’s kind of as disturbing as the grotesque things I’ve done throughout my career, earning me the title of the Dark Man. I say kind of, because it’s not even close to being as barbaric as some of my more repulsive actions. Which I’m sure are a thing of lore, moments that transcend this sport, and send kids running to the bathroom vomiting their half eaten lasagna all over the place. But I don’t need to go into the things I’ve done, I’m positive you’re already well aware of what I’m capable of.

The Dark Man leans forward with a forced grin on his face, staring at Evans for a moment before Pat just kind of shrugs his shoulders. Instead of offending Desolation, the former World Champion opts to continue.

Desolation: Well, I’ll send you some of my more memorable moments copied to laser-disk I guess. But that’s neither here nor there, although now would be the perfect time to plug my numerous DVDs, as well as my autobiography, which thankfully I got out before John Cena’s book hit the market, titled, “How to Only Know Four Moves and Still be a WWE Champion.” Wait, I’m getting off track again. The reason I’ve decided to humble you with my presence, is because I did like what I saw you do to Aurora, and although I’m sure she’s use to being attacked from behind, you left in her a condition that will change her forever. Needless to say after that, and your actions since debuting here in the IWC, the Alpha Generation has our eyes on you. We think you’ve got potential, and once you develop a personality you may be unstoppable.

Again Evans sighs and tilts his head, staring into Desolation’s face impatiently. Thus the Dark Man gets on with the point.

Desolation: But the perfect way you can endear yourself to us is by making an example of Chapel tonight.

Mentioning possibly doing damage to the War Angel seems to perk Evans up a bit.

Desolation: Besides the fact that nobody wants to wrestle Chapel and put up with his stereotypical insults, now we’ve got to worry about him rallying the troops together, and picking up where AWOL oh so foolishly left off. That’s where you come in, Evans. You can put a stop to this before it even gets started. Tonight, the AG doesn’t only want to see you win the Livewire title, we want to see you break Chapel’s ankle. We want to see you injure the man so he’ll never be able to compete again, or more importantly, be unable to compete this Sunday. But the fact remains, if you win that title off him tonight, and perhaps permanently injure him in the process, you’ll have ingratiated yourself to the Alpha Generation. And having our support is the equivalent of having one of those “Get out of Jail Free Cards” my daughter Tia is always trying to eat off the Monopoly board. So what do you say, will you handle this problem for us so that we can be lazy and not have to worry about doing it ourselves?

The Dark Man thrust his open palm out in front of Evans, who stares down into it for a second then back up into the face of the former World Heavyweight Champion. He seems to mull it over for a second before slapping his palm into Desolation’s, both men shaking hands now.

Evans: Sure, I’ll take out Chapel tonight, and winning the Livewire title, will just be an added little bonus.

A half smirk comes to Pat’s face while Desolation keeps shaking his hand. The camera zooms in on their interlocked palms.

PREPARING FOR A WAR

The fans cannot help but to go nuts at the sight of Chapel making his way to the ring, the Livewire title thrust over his shoulder as he moves down the corridor. He appears very serious, centered, focused, and determined, realizing his belt is about to be on the line and so much more here tonight. The Riot! theme song can be heard playing in the background while he moves towards the ring.

Dan Douglas: Ladies and gentlemen, the Livewire title match is coming up next, and apparently there’s even more on the line now than we thought.

Billy Mayne: Will Chapel retain his Livewire title after the commercial break, or will Evans take the strap and break his ankle in the process? I can’t wait for this one Dan, prepare to watch the end of Chapel’s career at the hands of the submission specialist.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

THE BIGGEST PARTY OF THE YEAR COMES TO DVD

CHAPEL (c) VS. PAT EVANS:
LIVEWIRE CHAMPIONSHIP

”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 cheers/boos/whatever you want them to do as he makes his way down, 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.

Mayne: Welcome back fans, and just take a gander at who your seeing. It’s Patrick James Evans, your next Livewire Champion, hahahaha.

Douglas: How diabolical of you Billy. But the fact remains, Evans has not won this match yet, and I dare say there’s a hell of a possibility that he won’t considering his opposition this evening. Sure he’s been impressive, but he’s yet to lock up with anyone the caliber of Chapel since arriving in the IWC.

Billy: He’s got the Alpha Generation’s vote of confidence, Dan. That counts for much more than you think. Besides if anyone was smart, they’d want to get in the good graces of the AG, so I’m telling you we’re going to see an even more intense Pat Evans here tonight.

The lights go dim and suddenly red lights begin to flash and light the staging area. The speakers throughout the arena come to life and the scream of ‘REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH!!!’ is heard as “Personal Jesus” by Marilyn Manson begins to play as fire rises around the entranceway. A massive form is seen shrouded in darkness standing behind the flames. As the song hits the hard, echoing chorus for the first time, Chapel walks through the fire and out to the aisle. The massive zealot walks to the ring, his head covered in a black hood and a black trench coat covering his body. He walks up to the side of the ring and stands outside the ropes. The hardcore titan steps into the ring and stands in the center. He slowly removes his coat and tosses it to the side and finally rips off his hood and tosses that to the side as well, revealing his black and white War Angel shirt as well as the Livewire Championship wrapped around his waist. With red light filling the ring, Chapel stretches out his arms and lifts up his head looking to the sky. With the lights dying down and his music fading out, Chapel stands in the ring and blesses himself with his taped fists, ready to battle. He now turns to glare straight into the face of Pat Evans, who shows little emotion while examining the War Angel.

Douglas: Here is the man who has united the roster here tonight, and thus drawn the ire of the Alpha Generation. But I think this war brewing within IWC is the farthest thing from his mind right now, as he needs and probably will be concentrating fully on his Livewire title defense against the undefeated Pat Evans.

Mayne: He’s not only undefeated Dan, he’s unstoppable. Since arriving in the IWC he’s put Seth Owens and Rayne Young on the side lines. He’s forced just about everyone he’s stepped into the ring with to tap out or pass out. This man is unbeatable.

Douglas: The same can be said for Chapel.

The War Angel and Pat Evans glare across the ring at one another, highly speculative, neither one willing to make that first fatal move. Finally the bell rings and both men step forward, circling one another before Evans lunges at the leg of the War Angel only to step back quickly with a smile on his face. Chapel leaped back a bit when Pat made the move for his leg, but then puts on a crude smirk and begins to nod his head. Both men are still circling one another before they both step forward, typing up with a collar elbow lock, jockeying for positioning almost immediately. Although Chapel has the obvious weight and size advantage, Evans is twisting and turning his body to make it hard for the big man to just shove him down. Just then Pat swings around under one of Chapel’s arms, placing him in the ringer with quickness. Chapel keeps standing, bent over slightly as his arm is twisted at by Evans. With brute strength though, he reaches out with his free hand, grabbing the wrist of Evans and pulling the dangerous submission specialist forward, right into a front gantry. Evans is doubled over while Chapel squeezes at his neck with all of his strength, his massive arms about to pop Pat’s cranium like it were a pimple. Using his grappling knowledge, Evans swings his head out of the front gantry, grabbing hold of Chapel’s wrist in the process then turning to face him. He bends his arm over backwards into the top wrist lock. Chapel grits his teeth and shakes his head, smirking towards Evans before he reaches up, grabbing the back of his hair. He yanks down on it with his free hand and pulls Pat around to face him, dragging his head into his armpit, again locking in the front gantry to claps from the crowd.

Mayne: Cheater, cheater pumpkin eater! Chapel just grabbed Pat by the hair, he had his hands all over those long wavy locks! Doesn’t he know how much time it takes Pat to get that hair just perfect in the morning?

Douglas: I’m not sure Chapel cares about how well manicured his opponents are.

Pat’s head is still being squeezed tightly before he extends his leg outward, placing it around behind Chapel’s then pushing forward with his shoulder. This forces Chapel to trip over Pat’s leg, his massive girth colliding with the canvas. Evans reaches down, grabbing hold of Chapel’s leg, lifting it into the air and then stepping over it. He wraps the War Angel’s leg around his own, really applying a tough submission grapple before Chapel starts to sit up, swinging his fist at him. As he does, Pat breaks the hold on the leg and grabs hold of the wrist attached to the fist coming at him. He then drops down to the canvas beside Chapel, bending his arm over backwards into the top wrist lock with the fans booing as a result and growing restless. Chapel kicks both of his feet against the canvas while still being trapped in this laid out version of the top wrist lock, finally though he starts to force himself up to his feet. Chapel sits up with Pat getting to his knees at his side, still bending his arm over backwards. Just then Chapel turns away from Pat onto a kneeling base, Evans breaking the top wrist lock and stepping in with a side headlock now. He squeezes his arms around Chapel’s neck while the big man is still kneeling down beside him, Evans determined to wear him down with these submission holds. Just then Chapel stands up and places his hand to Pat’s back, shoving him forward right into the cables with his brute strength. Evans charges into the ropes, bounces off and comes back in at Chapel who catches him against his palms, throwing him up high into the air. Evans gets tremendous height before Chapel places his hands to his back and shoves him down face first into the canvas.

Pat pops up onto the canvas across his elbows and knees, looking completely knocked silly. He places his palm to his forehead, trying to shake off the effects of that high impact collision with the canvas before Chapel drops down at his side, surprisingly locking in a quick fujiwara. The force of the submission is almost ripping the muscles and tendons apart in Pat’s arm while he pushes himself up onto his knees, gritting his teeth. It’s not often he’s in this state, being worked over with a submission, but now, strangely he finds himself in the predicament he’s forced upon so many others. The hefty Chapel is still ripping at the arm before Pat falls onto the side opposite the one where his arm is being worked over. His legs lift into the air, wrapping around Chapel’s other shoulder then pulling him over backwards into a crucifix pin.

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Chapel rolls over onto his knees, Evans transitioning across his back then lifting his legs into the air. A loud scream comes from the crowd as Evans tries to lock in the triangle choke on the War Angel. The massive figure rises to his feet while doubled over, both of Evans’ legs attempting to grasp hold of his neck, to cut off the air racing to his cranium. Chapel is pushing his legs apart though with his arms, freeing his head finally. He wraps his thick arms around the knees of Evans, trying to pull him over onto his gut, attempting to lock in a double Boston leg crab.

Mayne: No Chapel, stop it, stop it right now! Don’t make me have to come in there young man.

Dan: Shut up Billy. We know your threats are about as pointless as the storylines in XPW were. Plus, I think Chapel isn’t going to listen to you.

Billy: How do you know? I could appeal to his softer, kinder side, and make him see that Evans is actually deserving of the title, since Chapel has no talent whatsoever. Is that too far fetched?

Douglas: It’s as far fetched as the majority of the things that you bother to utter.

Chapel is still trying to turn Evans over onto his gut and place him in the submission hold but Pat begins to bend his knees. This causes Chapel to lean in towards Evans who sits up and begins to slug him repeatedly to the face. He then grabs Chapel by the ear, pulling his face forward enough to slap him hard to the cheek. The crowd groans the force of the strike before Pat frees his legs, burying his feet into the gut of Chapel and shoving him backwards into the ropes. He bounces off the cables then comes back in at Pat who rolls towards him onto his gut, forcing the King of Monsters to jump over him and continue into the opposite cables. As he comes back in, Evans rises to his feet and bends forward, going for a huge back drop. However, Chapel spots this, stopping abruptly and side stepping him as he turns his back towards the dangerous submission expert, locking his arms around his neck and placing him in the side headlock once again. He begins to grind his arms across the side of Pat’s face, going back to the submission holds in order to properly wear Evans down. However, Pat is quick to free himself by delivering repeatedly forearm strikes right to the small of Chapel’s back, beginning to soften him up. Just then Evans frees himself from the side headlock, his heard squirming out of Chapel’s arm while he stands up behind him. He immediately tries to hook both of Chapel’s arms and place him in a full nelson. Unfortunately for him, he can’t get his hands interlocked behind the thick neck of the War Angel who charges forward right at the cables. He drops down just short of them, sending Evans flying over the ropes due to the momentum they built up. Pat turns and crashes hard across the outside mats, rolling around on them with his back arching from pain.

Chapel stands up slowly, a bit of sweat dripping down his face while he glares at Evans on the outside of the ring, motioning for him to get up. Pat is starting to rise to a standing base, obliging to the orders he’s receiving while gripping at his back in anguish. Therefore Chapel rushes across the ring, building up momentum as he dives through the ropes right at Evans, showing his agility by flying through the air straight at the challenger for the Livewire title with the suicide headbunt. But Evans steps out of the way, causing Chapel to crash hard chest first right across the top of the barricade, bashing off of it. The fans react with shock as they witness this, Chapel’s body crumbling as a result of impacting with the steel after missing such a huge dive.

Douglas: Oh my God! Chapel went for an all or nothing move right in the early goings of this title defense, and I can’t say he got nothing, because he certainly got all of that barricade, and the pain coursing through him as a result.

Mayne: This is why fat men shouldn’t fly, they end up hurting themselves or others. It’s just too dangerous.

Chapel’s arm is flung over the barricade, somehow keeping his feet beneath him while using the barrier as a crutch. A sluggish glint inhabits his eyes as well while trying to force himself up to a standing base. Just then Evans steps up behind him, burying his shoulder into his spine. He stands Chapel up completely then turns him towards the ring, rushing him sternum first right into it. The impact causes Chapel to wince in pain as he stumbles backwards away from the apron, Evans switching around in front of him, digging his shoulder into his gut. Evans now rushes Chapel spine first into the barricade, the steel connecting hard with his kidneys. Chapel arches his back against the steel now while Pat steps to his side, chopping him stiffly across that same battered sternum. A growl of pain rips through Chapel’s vocal cords while he tries to keep his wobbly legs beneath him. But Evans keeps up the pressure and now drives his forearm right over Chapel’s sternum, before doing it again, and again. Each shot limits Chapel’s mobility, causing him to slowly slide down the barricade before Evans steps away and then rushes forward with a hard boot right to the side of his face. Chapel is knocked off his feet, causing him to slide down the barricade back first onto his seat across the mats while Evans’ leg hangs over the barrier. He pulls it back over onto the mats while stepping backwards then grinning somewhat maliciously as he barrels in with a hard knee right into the War Angel’s face. The back of his head is driven viciously into the barricade as a result while Pat steps away from Chapel with a huge grin on his face.

Mayne: Mwahahahaha, Evans is in firm control of this match now. Just dominating Chapel.

Douglas: All thanks to that impact with the barricade, which has left Chapel completely exposed to the brutality being inflicted on him by Evans.

That same twisted grin resides on Pat’s features while he turns towards Chapel, who is trying to force himself to his feet. He grabs the barricade to stand, with a big red mark left across his chest after that impact with the steel. Pat grabs him around the head though, standing him up straight before sliding around behind his back. With brute strength Evans shoves Chapel forward right at the turnbuckle post, causing him to bash against it sternum first before going into a spin. He ends up falling side first into the barricade with his arm tumbling over to the opposite side once more. A very dazed glare inhabits his features, perhaps really knocked almost unconscious by that failed attempt at the suicide dive. Evans steps in and grabs hold of one of his arms, lifting it into the air then punching him right into the chest. The crowd groans the impact which causes Chapel to yell in pain before Pat grabs the back of his head, leading him towards the ring. Chapel is rolled in under the cables while Evans starts to climb up onto the apron, glaring at his opponent, who may have done some serious damage to himself. Nevertheless, Chapel is still trying to force himself to his feet with one of his arms cradling his chest while Evans enters the ring beside him. Pat plants himself then charges forward and delivers a huge boot right to the side of Chapel’s face. The impact causes Chapel to tumble off his knees and crash face first into the ring before he rolls onto his back. With him in this prone position, Evans rushes across the ring into the ropes at his side, bouncing off and coming back in before he dives into the air, extending his knee and dropping it directly into Chapel’s sternum. The War Angel kicks his legs into the air as a result, groaning in pain while Pat gets to a standing base, his eyes shifting to the turnbuckle. With great quickness, Pat approaches the corner, slipping through the ropes onto the apron then scaling the turnbuckle with quickness. He gets to the top rope with Chapel laid out on the canvas, holding his chest still in pain. Evans balances himself on the top rope then flies off, soaring through the air with a huge frog splash directed at Chapel’s mid-section and chest. Just then the War Angel rolls out of the way, Evans crashing hard into the canvas before popping up onto his knees. A very dazed glint inhabits his eyes while Chapel gets to his feet slowly. He is doubled over, still holding his chest with the fans rallying behind him.

Douglas: Evans missed the frog splash!!

Mayne: I’m yelling to make things sound more dramatic!

The War Angel charges in quickly right at Pat, delivering a huge knee lift right to his face. Evans is knocked off a kneeling base, crashing onto his back with Chapel turning in a circle to face him. He then comes rushing in before jumping into the air, extending his back outward for a huge senton splash. Right as he comes down though Pat rolls out of the way, Chapel crashing hard spine first into the canvas before sitting up. He holds the back of his neck with the fans booing loudly now, realizing Evans is about to get back on the advantage. Now that Chapel is seated on the ring, holding the back of his head, Evans goes charging into the ropes in front of him. He bounces off, coming back in at Chapel who stands up suddenly and turns his spine towards Pat, catching him under his arm. Chapel roars while hoisting Evans into the air, delivering a huge side buster slam that drives him hard spine first into the canvas. The Livewire Champion hooks his leg.

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Evans kicks out, shooting his shoulder from the canvas and turning away from the seated War Angel. Chapel is still breathing hard, holding his chest while rolling to his knees, Pat trying to stand up as well. Just as Evans gets to a kneeling base Chapel steps in, grabbing him around the waist and forcing him to his feet. He has Pat in a back drop driver position, Evans’ side paced to Chapel’s front, with the War Angel about to drop in reverse and plant him straight on the back of his head. Pat reaches out with his leg and wraps it around Chapel’s though, keeping from being hit with this dangerous Morishima like move. Chapel keeps trying it though, determined to hit it and press the advantage before Pat reaches up and digs his fingers into the eyes of the King of Monsters. He rakes them brutally, causing Chapel to step back, placing his palm to his eyes. Just as he does this, Pat spins around and nearly levels him with a well placed European Uppercut directly under the jaw. Chapel is staggered by the impact, falling against the cables spine first before Pat moves in and chops him with great force directly across the sternum. The sheer velocity of the chop causes Chapel to double over, wincing in pain before Evans takes him by the wrist, whipping him off across the ring. The still hurting Chapel rushes into the cables, bouncing off and coming back in at Evans who rushes forward with a huge lariat. Chapel ducks it though, continuing to run into the ropes, now hitting the ones behind Evans, charging right at the spine of his opponent. Pat spins around though, catching him across the chest unexpectedly then grabbing him by the back of the pants, setting up for the Spinal Tap AKA the Uranage back breaker. Before he can hit it Chapel back elbows him to the head several times, causing Evans to bend forward, holding his neck, the King of Monsters switching around behind him and catching both of his arms. The fans start to scream as Chapel hoists Evans into the air in position for the Crucifer.

Without warning Pat reaches back with his legs though, wrapping them around Chapel’s waist then falling forward. He pulls Chapel over into a huge roll up pin counter, seated on the chest of the monster while holding onto the back of his legs.

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Chapel is moments from getting his shoulder from the canvas before Evans stands up, grabbing hold of one leg while switching around behind it. He has hold of the ankle, trying to turn Chapel over onto his gut in order to properly apply the ankle lock now.

Mayne: Well, Chapel’s title reign was nice while it lasted, but Pat is about to end it, and his career with the ankle lock, just like he’s done to so many others.

Douglas: Chapel is no normal person though Billy, after the bloodbaths we’ve seen him in before you should know he has a superhuman tolerance for pain. But based off what we’ve seen before, if any man can force Chapel to tap, it be Evans.

The fans are standing, watching closely as Pat tries his best to lock in the ankle lock, the leg still extended upward into the air, caught tightly within his grasp. The trouble comes with just trying to turn Chapel over onto his gut though in order to lock the hold in, much like earlier with Evans, the War Angel is refusing to be transitioned into the ankle lock. Suddenly he lifts his foot into the air and begins to kick Pat repeatedly to the face, trying to break him away from his ankle. Somehow Pat is still holding on though with each hard, well timed kick to the face. Finally Chapel rolls over sideways, sending Evans flying in that direction, but instead of colliding with the canvas, Pat shows his agility by cartwheeling over onto his feet. Chapel begins to stand up, reaching for his ankle when Pat comes rushing in, reaching down, trying to grab hold of it. He wraps his arms around the leg, attempting to get it in his grasp before Chapel hops on one foot slightly, turning to face him a bit before chopping him hard across the side of the face and neck. Evans breaks the attempted hold on his ankle but now steps forward, wrapping his arms around Chapel’s waist, attempting to hoist him into the air for what should be a huge German suplex. Before he can hit it though Chapel back elbows him to the face repeatedly, desperately trying to keep this tough technician off of him long enough to devise a game-plan. Using his quick thinking though Chapel swings around behind Evans, performing a standing switch before bending forward, burying his shoulders into the back of Evans and lifting him into the air in a torture rack. Evans is fighting his attempt to hit the Cardinal Sin though, otherwise known as the torture rack back breaker. The struggle causes Chapel to change his mind, instead dropping sideways to the canvas and sliding Pat off his shoulders into the canvas across the back of his head and neck with the Alpamare Waterslide. Evans hits the ring hard then rolls across it while Chapel does the same, looking to be out of breath after being forced to counter so many attempted moves from the wildly Pat. Realizing he may have the cover though, Chapel gets to his knees, crawling onto the challenger and hooking the leg.

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No! Somehow Pat finds that boost of adrenaline deep down inside to muster his shoulder from the canvas. Chapel rolls away from Pat then gets right to his feet, grabbing hold of his hair. He doesn’t waist any time in standing his opponent up, then scoop slamming him hard to the canvas before following it up immediately with a huge leg drop right across his throat. Pat grabs at his jugular, rolling to his elbows and knees while Chapel gets to his feet once again, blocking the pain that is coursing through his sternum. He quickly steps over Pat’s back, grabbing both of his arms, attempting to lift up on them in order to get him in position for the Crucifer once again. Although Evans is struggling, the Challenger refusing to be hit with one of Chapel’s big moves. Without warning he squirms between Chapel’s legs then grabs hold of his ankle, lifting it up into the air, causing the War Angel to tumble forward onto the canvas.

The Champion now finds himself trapped in the ankle lock, Pat standing up behind him, twisting at it repeatedly with a very intense glare inhabiting his eyes. Before Chapel can even contemplate tapping out though he begins to drag himself towards the ropes, fighting through the blinding pain coursing through his leg. Evans is really working over that ankle with a rabid like intensity, his eyes brazen with hatred, and the desire to take Chapel’s title hold. Finally the War Angel reaches out, grabbing the middle rope and pulling himself upward.

The official steps in, pleading with Evans to break the ankle lock, but he won’t listen. The only thing he’s interested in breaking is the ankle between his arms. But he won’t have the chance as Chapel gets to one foot then falls forward over the ropes, pulling Evans with him and over the cables as a result. Pat flips over, landing on the mats across his posterior then rolling across them. Chapel lies on the apron now while Pat gets to his feet and then quickly jumps at his ankle again. Evans grabs hold of it while it is lying on the apron and he’s standing on the mats, lifting up on it nevertheless as he again gets that ankle lock established. Chapel covers his face from the unbearable pain coursing through it before he begins to pull himself into the ring under the ropes. He drags everything under the cables into the ring but his ankle, which Pat still has elevated over the mats with the submission firmly established. With a grunt though Chapel pulls inward on his leg, dragging Evans chest first with force directly into the apron. Pat’s body bounces off before he crashes onto the mats, rolling across them onto his knees.

Douglas: Evans repeatedly going back to the ankle lock, really twisting at the leg, which kind of negates his earlier focus on attacking the ribs and chest. I guess Pat is trying to cut Chapel down to size in this contest by going back to that leg every opportunity he gets.

Mayne: I think Chapel pissed Evans off by not tapping out to the ankle lock, I’m sure that’s why he keeps going back to the ankle, determined to force him to submit to that hold now.

Dan: I’m stunned Billy. You made a comment for once that wasn’t wreaking of shit.

A slight agitated, but otherwise apathetic Evans rises to his feet, confident that he got done what he wanted to do concerning Chapel’s ankle. That’s before he realizes the error of his ways, turning towards the ring where Chapel is now running across the squared circle and diving through the ropes. Chapel twists with his body into a diving suicide European Uppercut directly to Evan’s jaw. The collision knocks Pat from his feet, sending him flying backwards into the ramp.

Fans: HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT!!

The monster that is Chapel now finds himself spread across his back, sweating profusely while holding his ankle, rolling across the canvas and bitting his lower lip. It appears that last move, the one he missed earlier may have hurt him more so than did damage to the down challenger.

Mayne: What the hell was that!?!

Douglas: Chapel finally connecting with what he went for earlier, and in the process showing just how agile he is for a man of his size. He’s really added some more aerial offense to his arsenal in his time off apparently, which just makes him all that more dangerous.

Billy: Can this man stop trying to be like AWOL? Although they both suck, otherwise they have nothing in common. All he did was hurt his ankle even more by going for that move, just like that big dumb idiot AWOL would. But then again, hahahaha, I’m sure by the end of this night, we’ll not have to worry about either one of them ever again.

Chapel is fighting his way to his feet, staggering on his damaged ankle while Evans tries to get up in front of him. Pat turns right into Chapel who slugs him to the face, then does it once again. Each shot staggers Evans before Chapel grabs him by the back of the head, leading him towards the steel stairs. Before Pat can even awake fully he’s driven face first into the top portion of the steps, staggering in reverse then being pushed onto the apron. Evans lies on it side first, grabbing hold of the ropes, trying to use them to pull himself to his feet before Chapel steps up onto the apron behind him. He shakes off the damage done to his ankle and grabs a handful of Evans’ hair, forcing him up to his feet. Pat can barely stand before Chapel buries his shoulder into his spine, lifting him up into the air for the back drop suplex right onto the apron. Evans is able to counter though somehow, twisting his body and flipping backwards over the ropes into the ring. He lands in the squared circle, then rushes forward at Chapel who turns and reaches over the cables, slapping his hand right over Pat’s throat then pointing with his other hand to the outside mats. The fans are really getting anxious as Chapel prepares to chokeslam the challenger for his title onto the outside mats. But Pat blocks it by grabbing hold of Chapel’s hand then stepping backwards quickly, dragging the War Angel chest first into the top rope with force. That earlier damage done to his chest seems to be effecting Chapel greatly as he breaks the grip on Pat’s neck and leans against the cables now for support. He places his hand over his chest before Pat steps in quickly, reaching over the ropes, slapping on a side headlock then pointing at the turnbuckle, the fans start to scream as he charges at it. He steps up the turnbuckle, going for a surprisingly high risk move, something he doesn’t do very often before he reaches the top rope then pushes himself off. He is elevated over the ropes, trying to twist in order to drag Chapel off the apron with a springboard bulldog. Somehow Chapel is still standing on the apron though with his shoulder buried into Pat’s spine, holding him over the ropes and apron before dropping off to the outside mats. He drags Evans down with great force right into a back drop suplex on the apron. The fans react with a loud collection of cheers, everyone putting their hands together as much like Roxas Knoxx a few weeks ago, Pat’s body collides with unbelievable force against the apron.

Mayne: Ahhhhh!

Douglas: Chapel just made a huge counter with a back drop suplex onto the apron, the hardest portion of the ring! He may have broke Pat’s back with that move!

The fans are really going nuts, shocked by what they just witnessed while Evans rolls under the ropes to the inside of the ring almost on instinct, otherwise he’s completely out cold. Chapel slips into the ring, but instead of going for the cover, he grabs Evans by the hair, forcing him up to his feet then stepping to his side, he wraps his arms around Pat’s waist then drops back with a Morishima like back drop driver. Evans is planted hard into the canvas right across the back of his head and neck before he flops up onto his seat with an incredibly groggy glint in his eyes then finally tumbles onto his back. Chapel crawls into the cover with quickness, hooking his leg with the fans counting along.

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A huge reaction comes from the crowd before Pat shoots his shoulder from the canvas at the last second, kicking out with mere moments to spare and saving his shot at the Livewire title. Chapel rolls across the canvas to a crawling base, his face full of intensity, unable to believe that somehow Evans kicked out of those last two deadly maneuvers.

Mayne: Hahahahaha, hahahahaha!

Douglas: Oh great, now you’ve been reduced to not even using actual words in your commentary Billy. Which actually might be an improvement.

Billy: I can’t help it, Dan. I’m overjoyed. Evans kicked out with mere seconds to spare, Chapel is incapable of putting away this undefeated challenger for his Livewire title.

Chapel rises to his feet, very sluggish, very tired after all his body has endured thus far in this contest. Yet somehow he finds himself staggering, on a damaged wheel and all towards Evans, who is not moving an inch since he got his shoulder from the canvas. Chapel slips his hands into his hair, rolling him to his knees, trying to force him to his feet. The emotionless, exhausted wreck that is Pat’s body leans against the front of Chapel’s legs though, nothing more than dead weight at this point. As Chapel tugs on his hair one more time Pat springs to life, reaching down and grabbing hold of his ankle while slipping around behind his back. Out of nowhere Evans lifts up on the leg, causing Chapel to crash forward onto the canvas as Pat has the ankle lock applied once again. Chapel pushes himself up onto his elbows, roaring in pain as he finds himself again trapped in this hold. Pat’s twisting at his ankle seems to be more painful to him than anything he’s ever encountered in his life. In an almost desperate act though Chapel ducks his head then rolls forward across the canvas, unexpectedly freeing himself from the submission hold. He rolls right onto his feet, turning towards Evans who is standing in the center of the ring in a shocked state. Putting aside the pain in his ankle, Chapel rushes forward only for Pat to side step him, reaching out, hooking one of his arms, then bending forward, wrapping his other arm around the War Angel’s thigh. He hoists him into the air and drops him down chest first right into his knee. The collision is unbearable as Chapel remains on his feet but is bent forward, holding his chest in a lot of pain, as well as having trouble keeping pressure on his ankle. Pat stands up at his side, rushing into the cables and bouncing off as he comes back in at his prone opponent, catching him around the neck with what appears to be a swinging neckbreaker. Chapel swings his way out of it though, standing up and turning to face Pat’s back before grabbing him by the shoulder, bending forward, burying his own shoulders into the small of Evans’ spine. He lifts him up into the air and then drops onto his seat with the torture rack back breaker, the sold out crowd going nuts at the sight of the Cardinal Sin. Evans falls to the ring, rolling across it while arching his spine before a sweaty Chapel turns, crawling quickly into the cover once again.

Douglas: The Cardinal Sin by Chapel out of nowhere! He’s got to have Evans now! He’s just got to have this pin after all these high impact moves.

Mayne: He can’t win, he just can’t, it’s just not the cool thing to do! Evans is the flavor of the month dammit, he deserves the title!

Again the fans find themselves counting along as the referee drops down, his hand emphatically slapping the canvas.

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Another loud outburst comes from the fans as Pat again finds himself getting his shoulder off the canvas, kicking out in the nick of time as he rolls away from Chapel. The War Angel is breathing deeply as he sits up, running his hands through his sweaty hair, asking himself what its going to take to put Evans away in this unbelievable Livewire title defense that has every fan in the Manhattan Center screaming their heads off. Sluggishly Chapel rolls to his knees then with force reaches out, grabbing hold of Evans’ throat. The fans find themselves becoming even more excited as the vengeful King of Monsters rises to his feet, drenched with sweat but glaring into the eyes of Pat Evans, who is gasping for air while being led to his feet. Evans gets to a standing base while the back of his pants are taken hold of, having nothing left as Chapel lifts him into the air with a huge chokeslam. Just then Pat spins his body and escapes the grasp on his throat, floating around behind the arm then landing on his feet behind the back of the War Angel. Before Chapel can fight it, Evans has dropped to his knees behind him and taken hold of that ankle once again. Pat lifts up on it, causing the Champion to spill forward onto the canvas, crashing into it. Again Pat stands up, twisting at the ankle once more with the ankle lock firmly established this time. Chapel buries his elbows into the ring and pushes his head off the canvas, looking around with roaring as the agony races through his body. An almost crazed glint inhabits Pat’s eyes while continuing to rip and tear at every muscle and bone within Chapel’s ankle.

Mayne: Pat’s got the ankle lock again, he’s got the ankle lock! Chapel is going to have no other alternative but to tap out!

Douglas: That may be a forgone conclusion at this point, with the amount of times Chapel has already been placed in that hold by Evans. Who is determined to either debilitate Chapel, or win that Livewire Championship through submission.

Both men are covered in sweat while Evans continues to really twist at that ankle, Chapel covering his face with his arms while falling to the canvas. His hand tentatively raises above the ring, looking ready to tap out from the excrutiating pain already while Pat breaths deeply, the whites of his eyes as large as the scraping teeth in his mouth. Chapel’s ankle is about to be broken it appears yet he balls up his fist, refusing to tap out before again rolling forward across the canvas. He drags Pat with him, causing Evans to flip over forward while holding onto the ankle. This time it doesn’t work though, Pat still has a hold of it as Chapel rolls to his elbows, finding himself in that same submission predicament with Evans kneeling behind him. He is lifting up on the ankle and twisting it till the point that the bones inside can almost be heard shattering. Still he will not tap out though, Chapel will not give into the pain that is coursing through his ankle at the hands of the technical wizard that is Evans.

Fans: PLEASE DON’T TAP, PLEASE DON’T TAP, PLEASE DON’T TAP!!

Chapel again unleashes a roar of agony while digging his nails into the palm of his hand. No matter what he does it fails to get him free of this hold from Evans, who is trying with everything he’s got to get that tap out. Chapel’s eyes rise though, realizing his only salvation lies with the cables. Therefore he begins to drag himself in their direction, Evans standing up now to further clamp on the hold. Chapel shakes his head as the referee implores him to tap out. The War Angel will not hear any of it, getting closer and closer to the cables. The fans are all standing, wondering rather the Champion will make it to the ropes or be forced to submit at the hands of the cunning Evans.

Douglas: Chapel going for those ropes, just inches shy of reaching his salvation!

Mayne: Nice overuse of the biblical puns Dan, but you fail to realize this means nothing, reaching those ropes is only prolonging what we all know is going to happen tonight. Sooner, hopefully rather than later, he’s going to tap out to Evans.

Chapel again yells out at the top of his lungs with every fan standing, hoping he reaches those cables. Just then his fingers extend, the massive Chapel grabbing hold of the bottom rope to a huge ovation from the fans. Evans refuses to believe it and thus keeps twisting at that ankle, attempting to do as much damage as he can before the five count. The official jumps right in his way, starting that obligatory count and reaching four before Evans finally breaks the hold. An irritated Pat steps backwards, sticking five fingers out in the official’s face, insisting that he has till five while Chapel tries his best to pull himself to his feet by utilizing the cables. Although there is an extreme amount of pain coursing through his ankle Chapel gets up, turning towards Pat who shoves the ref aside then charges forward with a huge lariat. The War Angel ducks it though, staggering to the center of the ring before spinning around to face Evans who comes rushing in at him only to be caught around the throat. Chapel hoists Pat into the air and with almost the use of just one leg chokeslams him violently down to the canvas, tumbling to the ring himself in the process.

Douglas: CHOKESLAM!

Mayne: I can’t wrap my mind around how Chapel could do that when he’s basically standing on one damn leg!

Both men lye side by side on the ring now, covered and sweat, trying to catch their breath after what has been one hell of a Livewire title defense just a week removed from Born Again. Neither man is moving through, Chapel incapable of gathering the strength to make a pin, therefore he just lies there, huffing and puffing, desperately trying to get some air into his lungs. Finally he begins to drag himself desperately in the direction the down, barely moving Evans, thrusting his arm over his chest.

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The crowd goes nuts before they realize Evans’ arm has shot upward from the canvas, Chapel falling onto his back, appearing stunned that he didn’t get the pinfall there.

Mayne: Evans kicked out, Evans kicked out! Thank you good lord above!

Douglas: Do you even know who your praying to with your stereotypical pleas to the Lord Almighty?

Billy: Um, the Michelin Man?

Dan: Yeah, well, Evans has just kicked out of that chokeslam, much to my shock. What a title defense this has been. A true definition of what competition is like here in IWC.

The crowd is still shouting in shock over the fact that Evans kicked out of the chokeslam while Chapel begins to rise to his feet, his ankle bothering him terribly though. Pat is trying to get up as well while he rises to all fours, but as soon as he gets his feet beneath him Chapel steps in, grabbing him by the ears and forcing his head between his legs. He now lifts Evans into the air, allowing him to slide over his back while catching both of his arms, he has him in a crucifix bomb position, setting up for the Apocalypse to the shock of everyone in the arena. Chapel seems determined to finish him off in this contest before Pat begins to twist and turn with his body, sliding down off the back of the War Angel. As he lands behind him, he reaches up, placing his hands to the back of Chapel’s biceps, attempting to hoist him into the air in order to hit his own version of the crucifix bomb with the fans screaming. That’s when Chapel turns though, getting out of the hold and spinning around to face Pat’s back. He places his hands to his armpits, hoisting him into the air for the Crucifer. Just as he does though Chapel winces in pain, reaching down for his ankle as he begins to hobble, allowing Evans to slip free, turning as he lands behind the back of the War Angel. He steps forward quickly only for the big man to deliver a hard back elbow directly to his face. The force of the strike knocks Evans to the canvas and sends him rolling across the ring, spilling under the ropes to the outside mats while Chapel falls forward into the ropes. He utilizes them to keep himself standing, his ankle really bothering him right now while Evans grabs the tarp hanging from the apron, throwing it up into the air. He now retrieves a chair to boos from the fans while Chapel begins to put some weight on his ankle again, stepping towards the ropes where he knew Evans collapsed just beyond on the mats. The War Angel sticks his head through the ropes and reaches out for Evans who suddenly thrusts the chair upward right into Chapel’s throat. The fans react with utter disdain as Chapel turns away from Pat, wrapping his hands around his throat and gagging. He drops to his knees, still holding his larynx in terrible pain while Evans rolls under the ropes to the inside of the ring. The referee has no choice but to turn and call for the bell after what he just witnessed.

Douglas: Dammit, Pat Evans just used a chair on Chapel, he jabbed him right in the throat with it and has thus got himself disqualified! Can’t we have one match that ends normally?

Mayne: Pat doesn’t seem to give a damn about the title, he’s just out here to hurt Chapel the same way he hurt Aurora Rose at the beginning of the show, using that hard steel chair.

Chapel drops to his hands and knees, still reaching for his throat though before Evans steps gingerly into the ring, still covered with sweat and aching in pain but trying not to show it. He quickly steps over the War Angel and slams the chair down with force right over his back. Chapel grinds his teeth and tumbles down to the canvas across his chest and stomach, reaching for his spine while Pat steps over his ankle now. He lifts the chair up long ways and drives the very top edge of it down into the back of Chapel’s ankle. This causes the War Angel to shout at the top of his lungs in pain before Evans steps to the side of the ankle and now swings the steel mess right down over his ankle again with tremendous force and velocity. For once the big man, the giant Livewire Champion is howling in pain as further damage is done to his ankle. He rolls onto his back, reaching for his leg as Evans raises the chair again into the air and brings it down with force right over his already swelling ankle.

Douglas: Somebody get out here and stop this already! This is reprehensible, reprehensible!

Mayne: I don’t know rather Evans is doing this to get in the good graces of the AG or not, maybe he’s doing this to soften Chapel’s ankle up for a future rematch of some sorts. Whatever his motivations are though, this is damn sure an effective means of crippling the Livewire Champion.

Chapel reaches for his ankle once more but Evans will show no mercy, even as the official steps in, grabbing him by the shirt, trying to force him away from the possibly injured War Angel. That’s when Pat turns and swings the chair oh so violently right over the cranium of the referee, denting the steel mass around his skull. The official drops to the canvas going into convulsions as a result before Evans turns back towards Chapel, bending forward and opening the chair to stick it around his ankle.

Douglas: Oh no, I don’t like the looks of this...

Mayne: Things just went from bad to worse for Chapel, hahahahaha. I’m sorry, I’m really trying hard not to laugh.

The crowd is still screaming over what they are about witness while an exhausted Evans turns to face Aurora Rose, who has just entered the ring behind his back. Without warning she charges forward and spears him straight to the gut. Pat is almost taken out of his boots as he tumbles onto the canvas, Aurora crawling on top of him, immediately beginning to deck him in the forehead repeatedly.

Douglas: Aurora Rose attacking Pat Evans out of nowhere. Getting a measure of revenge for what went down between these two over the past couple of weeks, with Evans repeatedly targeting Rose and costing her the World Heavyweight Championship, not to mention what happened between them tonight!

Mayne: Can’t this woman forgive and forget already? Whatever Pat has done to her, I guarantee it’s not one tenth of what she actually deserves. Besides she ruined what could have been the feel good moment of the evening where we all sit around and listen to Chapel’s ankle being broken.

The crowd is still screaming, backing Aurora as she repeatedly slugs the face of Evans, who finally pushes her away, forcing her to roll across the canvas. Evans turns onto his knees, starting to stand up when Aurora dives at him again, coming down on top of his back. She forces him down to the canvas across his chest and gut, drilling him over the back in a crazed manner with both forearms while Chapel throws the chair off his ankle and crawls into one of the corner. He now watches all of this seated in the corner, an exhausted wreck, his ankle throbbing with pain, keeping him from getting in on the fight. Evans gets his hands up over top of his head while Aurora keeps bashing him to the back with her forearms. Security comes rushing from the back now, sliding into the ring, while Evans is trying to get up only to have Aurora stand and place him in a side headlock. She uses this dominating position to launch repeated right hands into the forehead of Evans, trying to bust him open or at least gain a small measure of revenge. That’s before security steps in, grabbing her by the arms, forcing her away from Evans while she kicks and screams, desperate to get at the man she’ll battle at Born Again in just a few short weeks. It takes three security guards to force her backwards away from Evans, while she goes into a fit, twisting and turning her body in a desperate attempt to get free. She spits at Pat who is holding his forehead, resting on his knees in an exhausted state. Finally Aurora pushes one security guard off her arm, then spins to face another, drilling him under the jaw with a forearm strike. The impact knocks him down to the canvas before Rose spins around, turning her back to Evans to deliver a hard superkick right under the jaw of another security guard, knocking them down to the canvas. Just then Pat rushes forward, grabbing her by the arm and forcing Aurora down to the canvas, locking her in the fujiwara armbar. Rose begins to scream in pain as Pat really rips at her arm in this submission, attempting to do as much damage to her arm before their match on Sunday.

Douglas: Oh come on! Aurora took out security and when she had her back turned, Pat dove on her and locked her in the fujiwara like a damned coward!

Mayne: He’s not a coward, he’s an opportunist. He was waiting for his opportunity and he seized it, now he’s going to break that bitch’s arm!

Auroa is still screaming in pain while Evans wrenches at her arm with all of his strength, really pulling back on it with an enlivened expression on his face. The screams of pain emanating from Aurora almost seem to be exciting him while he really wrenches back on the fujiwara, Aurora’s wails of anguish becoming louder than before. More security guards now slide into the ring, a whole army of yellow shirts surrounding the ring or quickly entering it. Trainers are also coming out while Chapel rolls to the outside of the ring, watching all of this with a very tired, sluggish glint in his eyes, trying to balance himself on one foot as EMTs come over to talk to and assist him. Security steps towards Evans, reaching down and grabbing him by the arms, trying to force him off of Aurora who is trying her best to escape this hold, just can’t seem to do it. Pat is also refusing to break the fujiwara, which he has established expertly, to create the greatest amount of pain possible. Finally enough security guards and trainers are able to force Evans away from her arm, Pat rolling to his knees, getting to his feet and slugging one of the staff members right to their face. He turns, punching out a security guard, then knees a trainer before grabbing him by the back of the pants, charging him at the turnbuckle and throwing him hard against it. Aurora gets up, her arm hanging by threads, but she doesn’t care, she simply rushes forward and drives her forearm over Pat’s back. Evans is launched forward into security, who step between the two warring future opponents. Both of them try to get at one another but are held back, a good five guards and trainers holding Pat away from Aurora, who is pushed into the opposite corner by just as many officials. Finally Pat slips through the ropes onto the apron and drops to the outside of the ring, backing up while shouting at Aurora in the squared circle. He’s immediately surrounded by security on the outside as well, who are forcing him backwards away from the ring.

Dan: Some order finally being restored here at ringside, as Evans and Aurora tried to do nothing short of dismantle one another.

Mayne: These two are heading on a course for destruction at Born Again.....oh my God!

Aurora has pushed her way through security, rushing across the ring and springing onto the top rope before flipping off forward. The crowd goes nuts as she crashes down on top of all the security personal outside the ring and Evans, driving everyone to the mats with a huge senton bomb from the highest cable. Aurora immediately stands up, pushing security out of her way while Evans does the same, both of them coming to blows with one another, exchanging right hands to a huge wave of cheers from the crowd. The warring individuals fight their way up the ramp towards the backstage area, shooting right hands into one another’s faces all the way up it.

Mayne: Aurora almost killing herself to get at Evans! This is chaos! Chaos!

Douglas: Nobody can separate these two!

Evans is knocked backwards towards the curtains with each shot to the face from Rose, yet he keeps answering back. Even as more security rushes out, trying to grab their arms and get between them. The guards are slugged in the face though and shoved aside as Pat and Aurora continue to fight it out, their brawl spilling through the curtains into the backstage area.

Dan: My God, what are these two going to do to each other at Born Again!?!

THE FEELING BECOMES REALITY

The crowd suddenly starts cheering loudly, everyone going nuts surprisingly at the sight of Orlando Cruze marching through the backstage corridor. Much like Chapel a few moments ago he seems to be on his way to the ring, ready for what should be an intense confrontation against the gigantically proportioned Chris Cagero. His eyes stare forward, focused, ready for what lies ahead. His mind is on the match and the match alone while passing large, heavy steel crates mounted on rollers, as well as pipes and 2x4 slanted against the wall. The Icon is dressed for the battle at hand.

Douglas: Well the action is just non stop right here tonight ladies and gentlemen, because after that incredible Livewire title match, we’re ready for Orlando Cruze vs. Chris Cagero right here, right no....

Right as Orlando gets close to the camera one of those huge steel crates is pushed hard right into his side. The impact is devastating, launching Orlando off of his feet and sending him flying side first into the white wall on his opposite side. His frame thuds hard against the wall, the plaster breaking and indenting around his frame before he tumbles to the concrete with equally as devastating force. He’s been knocked completely unconscious due to the impact of the crate and the following collision with the wall. The large steel crate just sits there now, not moving, as the camera turns to try and capture a glimpse of the culprit, but finds nothing more than thin air. Whoever did the damage to Orlando is long gone.

Dan: What the hell just happened!?!

Mayne: I have no idea. It looked like Orlando was on his way to the ring and then he had that crate shoved right into him! I hope he’s not okay.

Douglas: Would you shut the hell up Billy, the man has just been seriously hurt. He’s been seriously injured perhaps, but who did this? Who did this dammit!?!

The camera zooms in on Orlando who is still lying motionless on the ground after being hit with the crate, obviously appearing to be in no condition whatsoever to clash with Chris Cagero in just a few moments from now. Stage hands begin to rush towards him and kneel down around the Icon, checking on his condition.

Dan: This is disgusting, absolutely disgusting. Go to commercial, someone go to commercial and get help back there for Orlando!

COMMERCIAL BREAK

THE MYSTERY CONTINUES

The camera opens back up on Orlando Cruze spread across the concrete on his back now, trying to get up while EMTs are gathered around him. They crouch down over the former three time World Champion, begging him not to move, but he doesn’t seem to want to listen in his groggy, dazed and battered state. Nathan Creed is there as well, pleading with Orlando to stay down, not to do anything stupid and possibly risk further injury.

Nathan: Just stay down Lando, wait till they get a stretcher in here so we can take you to the hospital man.

Cruze: I’m not going to any God damn hospital!

Again he groans while reaching for mid-section, holding his ribs in pain and trying to get up while Nathan just shakes his head, flabbergasted with his partner’s refusal to stay down.

Douglas: Commotion still going on in the back as you can see, and did I just hear Orlando correctly? Did he just say he refuses to go to the hospital?

Mayne: Well, Orlando’s never been accused of having a lot of brains, if he did, he certainly wouldn’t have let himself get in this predicament just moments from his match with Cagero, and he definitely would have never teamed with Nathan again.

Dan: I still can’t believe this, Orlando can’t seriously be considering facing Chris Cagero while injured?

Orlando is still trying to get up while agonizing in pain as Nathan and the EMTs shamelessly plead with him to stay down.

A CULPRIT AT LAST

Although the fans are still stunned by what just transpired in the back with the savage attack on Orlando, they begin to cheer at the sight of a sweaty Bitchcakes McPhee. He is making his way through the backstage area still holding that piece of paper with a crudely drawn case of beer on it, asking whoever he passes if they’ve seen it. As he makes his way by a group of lowly jobbers and inquires as to if they know the whereabouts of the beer that was stolen from him several weeks ago, they all shake their heads, having no earthly idea where it is. McPhee stomps his foot and hangs his head sadly before approaching referee Alex Ingelson, who is making his way down the corridor, stirring up some coffee in a cup. That’s before McPhee eagerly puts his palm to his chest, stopping him and holding up the picture.

McPhee: Excuse me pale sickly looking mother fucker, but have you seen this beer anywhere? It’s been missing for weeks now, and I’m really worried something bad has happened to it. So just look at the photo with your beaty British eyes and tell me if you’ve seen it or not.

Bitchcakes stretches the picture out between both his hands to make it wider so that Ingelson can see it. But instead of responding, Alex just stares at McPhee in anger. He doesn’t even bother to look at the picture before taking his coffee and throwing it right onto the piece of paper, drenching it. In anger the official makes his way around McPhee, who appears stunned that Alex would behave in such a manner. He watches him leave while still holding up the dripping sheet of paper.

Bitchcakes: Hey, at least I asked nicely! Jeez, isn’t there one decent soul on this whole roster? Wait, this is IWC, everyone is pretty much deviants.

McPhee sighs while looking at his paper then starting forward down the corridor again. That’s when the wind around Bitchcakes begins to pick up, his hair blowing backwards as well as his clothing before Max Power swoops into the scene. He lands right in front of Bitchcakes who appears shocked by his arrival, having not seen him flying in so heroically. Max puts on a heroic stance, placing his knuckles to his hips and raising his chin so that he can stare into Bitchcakes’ face and at the same time complete the look. Bitchcakes appears terribly excited by his arrival, hopping up and down while slapping his palms together, in the process swinging the wet piece of paper back and forth, causing droplets of coffee to smack Max’s masked face.

Bitchcakes: Yay, it’s, ummm, uhhhh, the Hamburgler, yay!

Max closes his eyes for a moment, both to avoid airborne coffee droplets, and from outright frustration over McPhee’s blatant stupidity. Nevertheless, he stays the course and keeps up his heroic demeanor.

Power: No faithful citizen, it tis I, Max Power, the defender of the innocent. You just saw me like twenty minutes ago when you came out and almost cost me my match. Ringing any bells?

McPhee thinks about it for a second with confusion present in his eyes.

Bitchcakes: Holy memory gaps, Max Power, I don’t even remember who I slapped on the ass a few moments ago, let alone what I did twenty minutes ago. Why don’t you just ask me the square root of 9 or something? Hahahaha.

Again Max sighs while lowering his head again but then putting on that same proud posture.

Max: Obvious mental impairments and destroyed brain cells aside, citizen, I’ve come to respond to your inquiry about missing beer. Last week I gave you the chance to come with me and apprehend the cruel, devious fellow who abducted your precious alcohol, well, tonight I extend to you that same invitation.

McPhee’s eyes are wide and his mouth is hanging agape, positively excited before he responds while showing no facial movement whatsoever.

McPhee: I have absolutely no idea what you just said.

Power: Ugh, I’ll say this one more time. Do you want your beer back?

Bitchcakes thinks about it for a second then nods eagerly.

Max: Then follow me, I believe I know who’s responsible for this, and I’ll give you the first shot at revenge.

McPhee’s eyes widen with excitement once again.

Bitchcakes: Okay, so there’s no hard feelings about me almost costing you your match right?

Even though obviously unsettled by this, Max just forces a toothy smile.

Power: Of course not loyal citizen, heroes can hold no animosity in their noble hearts. Now follow me, and we’ll purge this corporation of it’s treacherous thieves.

Max turns and jumps into the air, flying away off camera apparently while Bitchcakes watches this and smiles, nodding his head. He backs up quickly to get a running start before charging forward and jumping into the air, extending a single arm outward. Instead of flying he once again crashes to the concrete floor in a heap.

CHRIS CAGERO VS. ORLANDO CRUZE

The lights black out, leaving the arena in complete darkness. As a piano starts to play softly over the speakers, the beginning of Within Temptation's "Destroyed," the fans violently begin to boo. 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 descends 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. The 400 lb monster just stands in the middle of the ring.

Dan: Chris Cagero, a giant, monstrous foe with apparently a heart of gold standing in the ring right now, ready to compete, but I don’t think he’ll have an opponent to face this evening.

Mayne: This man is a puritan or something like that, meaning he only eats lettuce right? So I wonder how he’d react to having to face an injured Orlando.

You Know My Name from Chris Cornel hits over the PA system as the lights dim and 'Cruze' flashes rapidly on the video screen. Down either side of the rampway white strobe lights flicker as Orlando walks from the back. His ribs are bandaged up, looking like a quick bandage job. Behind him walks out Nathan Creed, who grabs his arm and pulls him around and begins pointing to the locker room.

Douglas: Well, this is interesting. It appears as if Nathan Creed doesn't want Orlando to go to the ring.

Mayne: Why not? I say let Cruse get hurt that way Creed can take him out.

Douglas: I can tell you this right now: Nathan Creed does not want a win over Orlando Cruze like that. I think I can speak for both men that this match at Born Again that they want to be the other with no excuses. It's about pride!

Mayne: Pansies!

Cruze looks at Creed and points to the ring, turns and walks down the ramp and makes eye contact with Cagero. Chris just points at Cruze and dares him to come into the ring. Cruze jumps up and down before running to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope, and heads right into the huge Cagero. Cruze with rapid right hands to the head of Cagero. Cagero takes them all before lifting a knee into the chest of Cruze, which knocks Cruze back. Cruze staggers and struggles to stay on his feet as he leans on the ropes, turns, and goes right back at Cagero and runs into a knife edged chop. Cagero with a knee to the ribs again and pushes Cruze into the corner. He whips Cruze to the other corner and follows with a splash. Cruze moves before the splash, dead stops, as Cagero turns, a superkick is landed directly to the face. Cagero is knocked to the ropes and he holds onto the top rope. Cruze cradles his ribs after the kick and falls to his knees. Cruze rolls on the mat in pain before working to his feet. He turns, charges at Cagero with all his might, and clotheslines Cagero over the top, sending himself over in the process. Both man hit the outside and lay on the outside mat. Cagero just looks up as Cruze cradles his ribs.

Douglas: Orlando Cruze won't let a little pain stop him. He is taking the fight to Chris Cagero and doing a damn fine job of it.

Mayne: But lets look at reality now, shall we? Cruze is already burning himself out trying to put everything into this. His efforts are going to be his downfall here.

Both men are slow to get to their feet but both arrive at the same time. Cruze is first with a right hand, grabs Cagero's head, and slams it against the announcer's table. Cruze walks Cagero to the corner of the ring and slams his head into the post. He walks Cagero around, and whips him to the steps, NO! Cagero reverses and Cruse slams ribs first into the steps. Cruze grabs his ribs and rolls on the mat. Cagero rolls in then out to stop the count. He walks over to Cruze and stomps him in the ribs. He then picks Cruze up and locks in a bear hug. Cagero turns, runs, and rams Cruze's back into the post before dropping him. Cagero kicks Cruze while he is down, before pulling him back up and rolling him into the ring. Cagero follows into the ring as Cruze is trying to get to his feet. He locks Cruze's arms under his and begins hitting Cruze with some trapping headbutts. He lets Cruze go and he falls into the ropes. Cagero charges and clotheslines Cruze over the top and to the outside. He smiles and backs up and watches Cruze on the outside.

Mayne: You see what I told you? Chris Cagero is clearly in control of this match now.

Douglas: He has a sound strategy. He went for the ribs. But he knew that with Cruze that was not enough so the headbutts, then knocks him from the ring. Orlando Cruze has to use his own energy to get back into the ring.

Mayne: If I were Cruze, I would just stay outside the ring and let the time go.

Douglas: That's because you're not a cornerstone of the IWC!

Mayne: I beg to differ. The people watch us on TV every week to see me, not Cruze.

Douglas: (ignoring the comment) and Chris Cagero is out here to prove that he can be as influential as Cruze.

Cruze uses the outside railing to pull himself up to his feet. He then staggers to the ring and rolls in. Cagero is there waiting for him and stomps him in the chest. Cagero pulls Cruze up, scoops him up and slams him in the middle of the ring. He runs to the ropes, bounces, and lands an elbow on Cruze. He hooks a leg for the

1

2

3

NO! Shoulder barely up. Cagero rolls to his feet and pulls Cruze up and slaps his hand around Cruze's throat. He lifts Cruze in the air and just hold him there. The ref makes the count. As he gets to 4, Cagero just throws Cruze to a corner. Cruze just hands from the top ropes as Cagero walks over. Cagero nails Cruze flatly with a right hand before lifting him to the top rope and follows right up, going for a superplex. Cruze comes alive with right hands to the head and body of Cagero. The big man is finally shaken loose and knocked from the corner. Cruze steps to the rope, jumps off, and hits Cagero with his patented missile drop kick. Cruze grabs his ribs and tries to get back to his feet and does. As Cagero gets to his feet, Cruze is quick with a kick to the gut and follows with a DDT. Cruze rolls to his feet... and his adrenaline is pumping now. Cagero grabs his head and pushes himself up, just in time to see Cruze bouncing from the ropes, flying in the air, and colliding with a flying forearm. Cruze is back to his feet and walks around to Cagero's legs, lifts them up, and quickly applies a figure four. Cagero screams in pain and reaches for the ropes, but no dice. He pulls himself and struggles and finally gets to the ropes. Cruze drops the hold and gets to his feet, leaps in the air, and lands a knee to the side of Cagero. Cruze is back to his feet and stomps into a slight squat, telling Cagero to get up. Cagero is slow to get to his feet as Cruze just shuffles a bit. Once Cagero is up and turns around, Cruze goes under Cagero's arm, and begins to lifts him up for a Rock Bottom. Cagero is up about 3 inches before Cruze drops him under the strain of the ribs. Cruze grabs his chest and steps away. He turns and steps into a boot to the face and goes down.

Mayne: This is what I was talking about earlier. Cruze just did it to himself. He would be difficult enough for him to Rock Bottom the huge Cagero under the best of circumstances, let alone being injured.

Douglas: I have to agree with you. Orlando Cruze's adrenaline got the better of him there and Chris Cagero is back in control of this match now.

Cagero steps around Cruze, with a slight limp. He jumps in the air and lands a knee right to the chest of Cruze. Cruze covers his chest and flails hard. Cagero covers for the

1

2

shoulder up from Cruze. Cagero slowly gets to his feet and pulls Cruze up as well. He tucks Cruze's head between his legs, pulls him up and drops him for a powerbomb. Cruze arches his back and reaches out as Cagero bounces from the ropes, jumps i the air, and lands an elbow to his chest. Cagero slowly gets to his feet and pulls Cruze up. He pulls Cruze into a bear hug again and stands in the middle of the ring and flings Cruze around like a rag doll, applying more and more pressure to those hurt ribs. He lowers Cruze to his feet while holding onto the bear hug. Cruze tries to get his arms through Cageros, but Cagero lifts him up again and whips him around again. Once Cruze stops, he lowers Cruze again. After a few moments the ref checks Cruze and lifts his arm

1!

The ref checks again.

2

NO!

Cruze pulls his arm back up and begins hammering Cagero in the head. Cagero merely lifts Cruse in the air again and whips him around before jumping in the air and slamming Cruze to the mat, while still holding onto the bearhug. Cruze is completely dazed now and his shoulder are on the mat.

1

2

shoulder up. Cruse kicks around and tries to move to the point where his foot is to the ropes, and the ref breaks the hold. Cagero gets to his feet as Cruze rolls from the ring and clenches his chest, trying to get some oxygen in his lungs.

Douglas: The plan of Cagero has worked to the T. He went right back to the ribs of Cruze and kept him neutralized. Cruze, being the veteran he is, knew where he was and got to the ropes.

Mayne: But the damage may already be done now. So much for Creed having Cruze in top condition now. HAHA!

Douglas: That's looking very likely. And I can't help but think that Chris Cagero told Cruze not to come out here tonight in fear of getting hurt.

Mayne: But it was Nathan Creed that gave the original warning. That tells me that Creed is out to win at Born Again!

Douglas: The fact neither of us know who attached Orlando a few minutes ago. One thing is certain: Cruze is feeling the effects of that attack here in this match as Chris Cagero is taking full advantage of it.

Cagero steps through the ropes and stands on the apron. Once Cruze gets to his feet, Cagero jumps off and lands a doube axe handle to the head of Cruze and puts him to the mat. Cagero pulls Cruze to his feet and slams his head into the guard railing. Cruze is to one knee and holding onto the railing. Cagero kicks Cruze in the ribs and puts him down. Cagero steps on Cruze and stands on his chest with both feet for a few moments before stepping off. Cagero rolls in and out to break the count. He reaches down and pulls Cruze up and walks him to the announcers table and rolls him on the top of it. Cagero follows up and stands up and looks around. There is an evil smile on his face as he pulls Cruze up and steps under Cruze's arm and stands there looking around. Cruze explodes with a few back elbows to knock Cagero off of him. Cruze with some right hands to knock Cagero back. Cruze staggers back, charges, and slams his forearm into Cageor's face and knock him off of the table. Cruze goes to one knee to catch his breath, stands up, jumps off the table, and puts an elbow to the sternum to Cagero. Cruze slowly rolls to his feet, rolls in and out of the ring, then goes to stomping Cagero in the chest. Cruze pulls Cagero to his feet, walks him to the announcer's table and rolls him on. Cruze jumps up on the ring, jumps off, and lands one more elbow to the chest of Cagero and both men go through the table. Cruze is slow to get up but he does, pulls Cagero up, and rolls him into the ring. Cruze rolls in after him, rolls on Cagero and pulls the leg back for the

1

2

3

NO! Cagero gets the shoulder up. Cruze grabs his head in disbelief after that. He rolls back to his feet and pulls Cagero up. He throws Cagero to the corner, Cagero reverses and pulls Cruze into another bear hug, turns and slams him to the mat. Both men are down on the mat.

Douglas: Both men seem to be taking the life out of the other. Both are down and hurt.

Mayne: Chris Cagero did the smart thing. He knew the bear hug was working for him, he went to it again and stopped the momentum of Orlando Cruze right in it's tracks. He may be down after that punishment and near fall, but he took Cruze down and gave himself some time to regroup.

Douglas: It was the smartest thing he could have done there. This match can go either way now. Both men giving a lot here tonight for this win... wait a minute. What's he coming back out for?

Nathan Creed comes back out from the back and walks around ringside and to Cruze's corner. He grabs a chair and has a seat. Cagero goes to one knee and clutches his chest just as Cruze does the same. Both get to their feet. Cruze is quick with a right hand to Cagero, as the fans YAY!. Cagero with a right of his own and the fans BOO! YAY! BOO! YAY! BOO! YAY! YAY! YAY! BOO! BOO! BOO! BOO! YAY! YAY! YAY! YAY! Cagero with a rake to the eyes of Cruze. Front face lock, lifts Cruze in the air and drops back with a suplex. Cagero gets up and sees Creed in the corner sitting down. He walks over and asks him what he's dong here. Creed just sits there. Cagero turns around just as Cruze gets back to his feet. He charges with a clothesline, Cruze, ducks, turns, and smacks him with a right hand. Cruze pulls Cagero to a corner, charges, and nails him with a clothesline. He pulls Cagero out to the other corner. Cruze charges and runs right into a foot. Cagero blasts out and drops Cruze with a lariat. Cagero runs to the ropes, bounces off, jumps in the air, and drops a leg across the chest of Cruse. Cagero rolls to his feet and quickly drops an elbow to his chest. He rolls once more to his feet and lands another elbow. Cagero sits up and looks around with a smile on his face. He gets to his feet and tries to pull Cruze up. Cruse grabs the front of Cagero's tights and pulls back and flings him into a corner and smashes the ref in between. Creed is up, folds his chair and slides it into the ring. Cruze gets to his feet and sees Creed pointing to the chair. Cruze looks at the chair and then to Creed and tells him “No!”

Douglas: Nathan Creed trying to help Cruze and Cruze refusing the cheat in order to win.

Mayne: Cruze never learned that lesson from Jesse Ventura. “Win if you can, lose if you must, but always cheat.”

Douglas: Love Cruze or hate him, you know that in the ring he will never take a shortcut to win a match. And we can see that here.

Creed is up on the ring apron telling Cruze to use the chair. Behind them, Cagero grabs the chair and readies for Cruze. Cruse turns around, sees the chair, ducks out of the way, and Cagero hits Creed with the chair. Cagero turns around into a kick to the gut by Cruze, and a DDT. Cruze is to his feet and looks out on Creed to see him on the outside hurting. Cagero is on all fours and reaches for the chair. When Cruse turns around, he rams it into his ribs. Cagero to his feet, swings and smacks the chair into the head of Cruze.

Mayne: HAHAHA!! He should have taken the chair when he had the chance. Now Nathan Creed has cost Cruze this match! I love it. But Creed knew that Cruze would never accept the help. This is great. Creed set Cruze up.

Douglas: I think I'm beginning to O.D. on your conspiracy theory ideas. Last week it was DDP going after Aurora Rose, and now Creed wants to plan out a match to destroy Orlando Cruze.

Cagero drops the chair in the middle of the ring and raises his arms in the air. He pulls Cruze up to his feet and scoops him up over his shoulder. He steps over by the cahir, jumps in the air and hits his Purged Emerald Flowsion on Cruze. Cagero grabs the chair and pushes it out of the ring. He gets up and grabs the ref and pulls him over and covers Cruze and hooks the leg. The groggy ref is slow to count but counts nonetheless.

1 . . . . .

2 . . . ..

3!

NO!

The fans explode in cheering as Cruze gets the shoulder up at the very last possible moment and Chris Cagero can't believe it.

Douglas: SOMEHOW CRUZE GETS HIS SHOULDER UP!

Mayne: NO FUCKING WAY!

Cagero goes to the ref and begins arguing the count. Cruze rolls to his belly and makes his way to the ropes and tries to pull himself up. Cagero shows little emotion now and turns around. He charges and kicks Cruze in the ribs and puts Cruze back down. He pulls Cruze up and quickly delivers a Rock Bottom on Cruze, but Cruze holds onto Cagero's head and hits a DDT at the same time. Both men are on their back motionless. The ref counts as the two men try to get to their feet. As Cruze gets to his knee, Cagero is already up. He goes to the ropes to bounces off, SMACK! Creed nails Cagero in the back of the head with the chair. He drops the chair as the ref missed it to claim innocence. Cagero drops to his knees and then to all fours. Cruze is now to his feet. He steps over to Cagero and begins hammering him with right hands. He pushes Cagero up to his feet and pushes him to the ropes and pulls him out, Cagero reverses and throws Cruze to the ropes. Cagero with a clothesline, Cruze ducks. Cagero turns around SPEAR!!!! Cruze puts everything his had into his shoulder to go through the 400 lb Chris Cagero. Cruze rolls onto his back, pulls his legs back, kicks, and flops to his feet. He gets a completely mean look on his face as he breathes in and out very heavily, beats his chest and ribs, and goes into a semi-squat ready position. The fans are on their feet cheering as Cagero is grabbing his chest and tries to get up. Once Cagero gets to his feet, Cruze locks in and begins to lift for his Rock Bottom. Cagero back elbows him to the head though, fighting it off as Orlando is launched forward, Chris spinning around and charging forward. He’s caught across the chest again though and hoisted into the air, Rock Bottom. The 400lb frame of Cagero that has already sustained a chair shot, a devastating Lethal Weapon like spear, and a rock bottom, now lies motionless across the canvas as Orlando crawls quickly into the cover.

Ref,

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Douglas: I can't believe it. With the odds stacked agaisnt him and after some uses of chairs, Orlandso Cruze comes out of this victorious.

Mayne: And he better go thank Nathan Creed for that victory.

Douglas: Oh, so now you don't think Creed is trying to hurt Cruze?

Mayne: Don't be a smart ass!

Cruze gets to his feet slowly, now feeling the pain from this very competitive match while his eyes turn towards Nathan on the outside, who is giving him a thumbs up. He then motions between them, insisting that this Sunday it’s going to be a classic between them. Orlando nods somewhat before his eyes speculatively turn to the chair on the outside of the ring, then back towards Chris who has risen onto his side. Cagero is staring at Orlando with disappointment in his eyes.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

THE ADVENTURES OF McPHEE AND POWER

The camera opens directly upon a thick gray door with a sign plastered on it’s surface. It reads, “Alpha Generation,” and thus causes the crowd to become outright outraged as a result. Everyone getting flustered at being forced to bear the image of the AG. That’s before their tune changes though as the camera pans out a bit to face down the corridor the door is part of, revealing both Bitchcakes McPhee and Max Power stepping forward. Max is leading the way with his forearm thrust out in front of him, moving forward with that superhero like pose as Bitchcakes steps along after him. McPhee is staring around his surroundings but trying to remain focused, on what, he probably has no clue. Nevertheless he has an intense expression for a change, thrusting his fist into the palm of his hand while Max stops a few inches removed from the Alpha Generation’s dressing room. He turns and places his palm to McPhee’s chest, holding him back for a second. McPhee glances down at the hand placed to his chest.

McPhee: Are you squeezing my breast?

Max quickly takes his hand away from Bitchcakes’ sternum and begins to shake it off, as if that will help anything. He then takes a deep breath and motions towards the AG’s dressing room.

Power: Alright my trustworthy acquaintance, the answers to all your problems, reside just past that doorway?

A confused McPhee leans forward, staring at the door, then back at Max.

Bitchcakes: Really? So there’s a hot blond with three breasts in there?

Again Max sighs while trying to keep up his heroic demeanor.

Max: No! I’m trying to tell you that the Alpha Generation are my number one suspects. If you want your beer back, you march right through that door and don’t say anything, just start throwing punches wildly at anything that’s moving. Believe me, I’ve tried to reason with these dastardly foes before, it doesn’t work, all they respond to is violence. And while I don’t condone physical violence, I do believe due to the severity of their crimes, they deserve it. So if you want your beer, and a chance to ingratiate yourself to the rest of the lockeroom, you march through that door and take back what is yours!

The inspirational speech, slightly more appeasing to McPhee than the one Chapel made earlier in the night, causes Bitchcakes to grow anxious and excited. He pushes out his chest and flexes a bit to see more imposing before nodding towards Max one last time.

Bitchcakes: I’m ever so thankful for your help Spider-Man....

Max begins to explain his name to him again but just gives up.

McPhee: But if you’ll excuse me, my precious babies need my helping hand. I’m coming beer!

After thanking him, Bitchcakes shoves Max Power a bit to the side and before he can even think about it, charges into the dressing room of the Alpha Generation. He kicks the door open with force then charges inside, screaming obscenities that have no business going in the same sentence together, thus ultimately make no sense whatsoever. The sounds of a loud fight can be heard commencing from the dressing room, a body being flung against the door, leaving a noticeable dent in its surface. McPhee groaning in pain can be heard while Power watches on with a big smile on his face, deeply enjoying what he knows is happening to Bitchcakes, the cruel fait he is meeting. After several moments the door is launched open and McPhee falls out of the room onto his back, beaten, knocked unconscious. He’s completely motionless while Desolation sticks his head out into the hall, glaring down at Bitchcakes who is bleeding a little from the mouth.

Desolation: Next time knock you son of a bitch!

Desolation pushes his legs out of the way then slams the door, leaving Bitchcakes lying in a heap on the concrete floor while Power watches on, rubbing his hands together gleefully.

AN UNEXPECTED SURPRISE

The outside parking garage is at the forefront of the camera, which pans back and forth, as if searching for something. It only passes parked, stationary cars though that are set up side by side in a long row. That’s when a set of headlights are seen coming down the ramp that serves as the entrance to the enclosed facility. The vehicle the lights belong to is obviously speeding as it comes cruising to a stop just a few inches away from the camera, almost knocking it over. The windows are tinted as to not allow sight of the driver.

Douglas: Somebody arriving backstage here in the Manhattan Center, but who is it?

Mayne: I don’t think I can take much more mystery tonight. Maybe it’s Los Ice Creams though, which would be just great. I’d love to see them before the main event tonight.

Dan: Once should be enough to quench my thirst for Los Ice Creams. But who is this arriving so late in the building tonight?

Before anymore speculation can be had the driver’s side door pops open and out steps none other than the Big Crazy Bastard himself, AWOL. The entire arena burst into cheers, everyone going nuts as the IWC General Manager has arrived on the scene, clad in a pear of jeans and a black shirt, not well dressed at all, in fact he appears to be adorned for a fight this evening. A twisted, angry expression resides on his face as he slams the car door shut behind him and marches straight for the entrance of the arena.

Dan: Oh my God, AWOL is here! He’s here Billy!

Mayne: He wasn’t suppose to show up tonight, he’s suppose to be on the shelf thanks to the Alpha Generation! This can’t be good!

AWOL grabs the bar to the double doors and thrusts them open before stepping inside in a huff, obviously focused and centered like never before.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

DESOLATION & HURSE VS. LOS ICE CREAMS

The show returns to the ring where the fans are still pumped by all they’ve witnessed thus far tonight.

Mayne: Welcome back to the ring ladies and gentlemen, on what has been one of the greatest nights in IWC history, all four weeks of it. The Alpha Generation have put on perhaps the most wonderful telecast I’ve ever witnessed personally. It’s made me laugh, it’s made me cry , it’s made me experience emotions I was never in tune with before.

Douglas: Billy, I swear I’ve never wanted to strangle you more than I do right now. This show has been going downhill all night long thanks to the Alpha Generation, and it’s still not over with yet, as we’re forced to endure this shameless main event. Jon Rich and Roxas Knoxx were fired, Chapel’s ankle was almost broken, Orlando was attacked backstage by some mysterious culprit, and now the cheese on the rat trap will be us forced to watch this utterly pointless main event.

Billy: Pointless? This is a dream match, a dream match I tell you. Los Ice Creams are perhaps the strongest, most dominant tag team on the indy scene, with the exception of Hurse and Desolation of course. This is going to be a main event unlike any other I tell you, unlike any other!

Killing in the Name Of hits the PA system and causes the crowd to rise to their feet, booing furiously in the direction of the entry way. There are multi-colored lights flashing about the stage, curtain, and ramp while the fans vocalize their outrage at it’s highest decibel. No amount of verbal hatred will stop the curtains from parting though, as both the World Heavyweight Champion Hurse and Desolation march out side by side. Both men glance back and forth with huge grins on their faces, enjoying this spectacle, this reaction they’re receiving from the standing room only arena. Both men start towards the ring with the multiple World titles gathered from other companies adorning the frame of Desolation, while the IWC Heavyweight Championship glistens about the shoulder of Hurse. Both Alpha Gen members have a very confident swagger while moving up the stairs slowly. Hurse gets to the apron while Desolation slips under the ropes to the inside, jumping to his feet then springing up onto the turnbuckle, glaring about at the fans who are just disgusted by the mere sight of him. Hurse steps up the outside of the turnbuckle running parallel to the one Desolation is located on, lifting his World title belt aloft, gaining even more anger from the fans. Finally Hurse jumps over the ropes to the inside while Desolation drops to the canvas and motions for Kaily Wolf to bring him the microphone.

Douglas: As if the Alpha Generation haven’t already eaten up enough air-time with their antics, now they’re demanding use of the microphone. Why can’t these men just wrestle? Oh wait, they’re not. Because they’re about to take on a filler team and go into Born Again 100% fresh, unlike the majority of the roster members they’ve toyed around with tonight.

Mayne: Well, I’m sure guys like AWOL, Jon Rich, and that wannabe female Roxas Knoxx, will be plenty rested up, seeing as they’ll have nothing better to do than sit on their assess at home and watch Born Again. Hahahahaha.

Dan: Jeez, Billy, you really dropped the ball on that one. But like I said, this match is a farce plain and simple, and for the AG to be acting like it’s going to be a challenge is just insulting, absolutely insulting. I mean, have you seen Los Ice Creams? They’re talented, but they’re no Desolation or Hurse. The guys wear fucking ice cream cones on their heads for crying out loud.

Desolation has now retrieved the microphone, tapping on it several times while marching to the center of the ring. After eyeing the fans for a few moments with a crude smirk on his face he raises the microphone to his lips, Hurse stepping to his side and thrusting his arm over the Dark Man’s shoulder. Obviously neither man has any idea that AWOL arrived in the building just a few moments ago, otherwise they might not be quite as confident.

Desolation: Ladies, gentlemen, other such subspecies, before we start this match tonight, we just wanted to reassure you that there will be no commercial interruptions, and this show will not end until this match is over. No matter if it goes five minutes, thirty minutes, or four hours we promise all of our loyal fans, those with as many missing teeth as Nathan Creed, that this show will not conclude until there is a pin or submission. We understand that you people don’t want to walk away from Riot tonight with the same sour taste in your mouth that you would get from sucking your husbands’ misshapen penis to get money for cigarettes and marijuana, or whatever you infect your bodies with.

Hurse nods, agreeing with his partner for the evening, and co-AG member the Dark Man, then requesting use of the microphone. It is handed off to him quickly while he looks around at the screaming fans, licking his lips with anticipation, feigning genuine excitement as it relates to this impending tag match.

Hurse: That’s right, we’re not going to let the three public access channels that we air on push us around, this will be the five star classic that it’s promised to be, and there will be no interruptions to ruin it. So without further ado, let us introduce you all to our opponents this evening. Perhaps the greatest wrestlers to ever hail from close to the southern border of the United States. Two men who’s wrestling abilities are almost mythical in greatness. The Alpha Generation is proud to bring you for the first time ever, our toughest opponents, tougher than any team AWOL could ever put up against us at Born Again, the Frozen Menace of Mexicali, and the Delicious Dairy Deviant! Yes, I’ve stolen this all from the CHIKARA website, to give them even more reason to sue us for blatant copyright infringement, I give you Ice Cream Jr., and El Hijo del Ice Cream, Los Ice Creams!!

The very same entrance music used by Los Ice Creams in CHIKARA now hits the PA system, as the fans give a mild response. Although many of the fans are somewhat anxious to see Los Ice Creams compete in the IWC, they are less than thrilled by the circumstances they’ve been brought in under.

Mayne: Here they come Dan, after an epic build up for what should be an epic match.

Douglas: Epic may be the single greatest overstatement I’ve ever heard.

Los Ice Cream’s entrance music continues to play over the PA system, while Desolation grabs Hurse by the shoulder, the World Champion trying to hide behind the Dark Man. Both men seem to immediately be reconsidering their earlier gameplans, absolutely terrified now that they realize the most brutal team on the independent circuit is about to come out and face them. That’s when through the curtains stroll the international sensations, dressed in their gray body suits and masks. But strangely, they don’t look like Los Ice Creams that much in physical shape. Hurse is bitting at his nails, standing behind the ropes in his corner, acting like he refuses to make the tag now. Desolation is rubbing his shoulders, trying to calm him down, reassuring him it will be okay.

Douglas: You got to be yanking my dick here.

Mayne: Um, no....

Dan: I was speaking figuratively, don’t get any ideas Billy. Both these guys look like the weigh less than my damn testicles.

Billy: How can you tell that? Sure they might look small, but have you seen the guys in CHIKARA, they’re all like twenty pounds, and that’s a combined weight. Sure Los Ice Creams are going to appear smaller by comparison now.

Dan: So, that still doesn’t excuse the fact that they’re drastically out weighed in this match.

The crowd is still booing and jumping all over the Alpha Generation in the ring who are still pretending to be terrified of their opposition. Somehow, God only knows how, the AG have managed to spoil this moment even more. The Los Ice Creams climb up onto the apron, making many comical gyrations but making sure not to touch one another’s cones. The one’s on top of their heads you sick freaks. They turn towards the ring and slip through the ropes into the squared circle with the El Hijo del Ice Cream pointing at Desolation, insisting that he wants a part of him. The Dark Man realizes he’s the one stuck in the ring before staring back at Hurse, who clearly doesn’t want to tag in, acting terrified still. Finally Desolation begins to move forward while Ice Cream Jr enters his corner. Desolation steps towards El Hijo and interlocks arms with him, the two jockeying for position with the collar elbow tie. Hijo drops down to the canvas and connects with a huge arm drag though, flipping Desolation over, sending him crashing across his back then rolling onto his feet. He looks shocked before El Hijo comes charging at him, jumping into the air then turning as his posterior connects with the Dark Man, launching him off his feet to the canvas back first. Desolation rolls across the canvas quickly with a stunned expression on his face, getting to his knees and glaring at El Hijo who is extending his hand, requesting a shake. Desolation’s face fills with scrutiny before he slowly rises to his feet then stares at Hurse who is shrugging his shoulders in the corner. Just then Desolation extends his hand only for El Hijo to side step him and slap him across the back, but doing so insanely slowly. Desolation arches his spine, gritting his teeth in pain before he turns towards El Hijo, pushing him backwards into one of the turnbuckles.

With the Dark Man prone in this position, Hijo lifts his hand, then open palm chops him to the sternum. As Desolation bends forward to reach for his sternum, the Los Ice Cream member slowly forearms him to the face, causing the AG member to stand up straight with a confused glint in his eyes. El Hijo pulls his head back and yells something that makes no sense whatsoever before bunting it right into Desolation’s skull. The Dark Man drops down to the canvas and begins to flop around it, rolling back and forth then rising to his feet quickly before stepping forward. He then jumps into the air and comes crashing down hard on his back, going into convulsions while many of the fans laugh at his overselling of the basic headbunt from El Hijo. Desolation’s eyes are wide like he’s got a concussion, Hurse almost in tears at the sight of this, his knuckle placed between his teeth while he shakes his head.

Mayne: Oh no, Desolation might be dead after that headbunt, and if he’s not, then he’s certainly got a serious head injury.

Douglas: Bullshit!

Billy: God bless you.

Dan: What?

Mayne: Be quiet nice lady.

El Hijo steps towards Desolation, grabbing him by the hair and sitting him up before crouching down behind him. He rubs his palms around Desolation’s cheeks then grabs him by the ears after almost lathering him up. El Hijo now headbunts him to the back of the skull several times, while shouting over dramatically in the process. Again Desolation begins to go into convulsions on the canvas, comically overselling the move once more as El Hijo tentatively approaches the Dark Man, grabbing him by the wrist. He now stands him up and whips him across the ring before Desolation reverses the whip. El Hijo bounces off and comes back in at Desolation who bends forward for the back drop. But just then El Hijo steps behind him and sticks his finger right in Desolation’s ass, making the Dark Man jump into the air, reaching for his posterior. El Hijo then lifts one stinky finger into the air with the crowd laughing accordingly at the antics of the Los Ice Creams’ member. The Dark Man spins around now with an angry expression on his face before the El Hijo throws a punch at his face. Desolation ducks it though, getting behind El Hijo who is acting like he has no idea where his opponent went. That’s when a conniving grin comes to Desolation’s face before he reaches into his pants, removing none other than a Shark Boy mask. The crowd starts to scream as Desolation quickly slides it over his head and bends forward, sinking his teeth into the butt cheek of El Hijo who begins to jump and down. He tries to shake Desolation off his bum frantically but can’t seem to do so. Finally he breaks free before turning around to face Desolation who almost takes his head off with a stiff buzzsaw kick right to the side of the face. El Hijo falls almost comically to the canvas like a tumbling tree trying to grasp desperately at its stump. The Dark Man removes his mask and throws it off across the ring before approaching Hurse now who has his hand over his eyes and the other one extended out over the ropes. Desolation slaps it, shocking Hurse who finally realizes he was tagged before taking a deep breath and entering the ring.

El Hijo gets to his knees, trying to force himself to his feet before Hurse steps in, beginning to drill him to the side of the face with closed right fists. He then grabs El Hijo by the mask, glaring into his eyes, shouting threatening comments at him before pulling him to his feet. Just then though El Hijo drops back to his knees, crawling between Hurse’s legs and making the tag to the Ice Cream Jr., who jumps over the ropes into the squared circle. Hurse charges at him quickly with a lariat that Ice Cream Jr ducks under, getting behind his back. As soon as the World Champion spins around to face him, he’s caught with a slow, weak chop right to the top of the head. The impact seems minimal at best while Hurse just stands there, not sure what to do now. That’s before Ice Cream Jr points to the canvas, Hurse motioning towards it as well in confusion before mouthing the word “oh.” He then over dramatically throws himself at the canvas, acting completely laid out, exposed for Ice Cream Jr who drops down and makes the cover.

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Hurse heroically shoots his shoulder from the canvas, turning away from Ice Cream Jr who rises to his feet and slowly kicks him to the back of the head. He then grabs Hurse by the hair, pulling him to his feet before placing him in a front gantry. He’s got him in position for a suplex perhaps before the World Champion slips free and slides around behind his back, unexpectedly wrapping his arms around Ice Cream Jr’s waist, going for a German. Ice Cream Jr performs a standing switch though, getting behind Hurse and burying his shoulder into his spine, lifting him into the air before dropping him ass first right on his knee. He keeps Hurse there, grimacing in pain while El Hijo runs into the ring then charges into the ropes in front of both men. His frame bounces off the ropes and comes bolting at Hurse before he jumps into the air, turning his ass towards the World Champion and driving it into his chest while he was still seated on his partner’s knee, hitting the dreaded Assasino. Hurse is launched backwards off Ice Cream Jr’s knee, landing on his back and covering his arms with his chest after that high impact butt bump from his opponent.

Mayne: I can’t believe that Los Ice Creams are just owning Hurse and Desolation like this.

Douglas: Come on, it’s a damned farce, their letting themselves be worked over to further agonize us with this whole shitty match.

Billy: Are we watching the same match here, Dan? Because from my perspective it looks like the Alpha Generation have finally met their match.

The crowd is giving a mixed reaction to everything their seeing in the ring as Ice Cream Jr and El Hijo pull Hurse to his feet, both grabbing one of his wrist. They now whip him straight at one of the turnbuckles, Hurse turning as he hits it hard spine first, his arms falling over the ropes. That’s when Ice Cream Jr rushes in with great momentum and again unleashing a high pitched wail as he springs into the air and then crashes side first right into Hurse’s ribs. Jr is now spread out across the ropes on both of Hurse’s sides, with his ribs buried into the gut of the World Champion, elevated in the air by the cables. El Hijo comes rushing in now and jumps into the air, over top of his partner to dropkick Hurse right between the eyes, getting an even louder reaction from the crowd. Ice Cream Jr falls out of the corner as Hurse tumbles onto his posterior, looking out cold now before El Hijo rushes in, jumping into the air and spreading his legs. He connects with almost a form of the Bronco Buster on Hurse, but doesn’t do the up and down humping gyration with his hips, instead he just sits on the weary Champion’s chest. Finally he drops back, rolling in reverse towards his partner who is standing there behind him. As soon as he gets to his feet, Ice Cream Jr catches him under the arm and hip tosses him right on top of the World Champion still seated in the corner. Ice Cream Jr then turns and does a little shimmy across the canvas, again shouting something that it would take a whole team of linguistic experts to understand. Right as El Hijo rolls away from him though Hurse gets to all fours and scampers out of the corner, crawling towards Desolation desperately. Tears of terror are present in Hurse’s eyes while he reaches through the ropes and wraps his arms around Desolation’s waist, burying the side of his face against his gut. Desolation reaches over the ropes, rubbing Hurse’s hair in a soothing manner while looking angrily at Los Ice Creams. The crowd is cheering and laughing at these antics nevertheless though as Desolation begins to shout words of encouragement at his partner, all the way telling him to get back in there.

Finally the World Champion rises to his feet, taking several long, deep breaths to calm himself down. Once he’s finally relaxed he gives a thumbs up to Desolation and turns back towards Ice Cream Jr who is remaining in the ring, El Hijo getting back in their corner. Hurse turns towards Ice Cream Jr and comes rushing in before the Los Ice Creams member ducks his attempted lariat, getting around behind him. The Champion spins around before Ice Cream Jr slowly slaps him to one side of the face, then does the same to the other cheek. Hurse is staggered by the strikes before Ice Cream Jr almost apathetically headbunts him right to the cranium. Again the Champion is staggered as he stumbles back first against the corner, using it for support. Ice Cream Jr comes rushing in now before Hurse gets his boot up into the side of his face. The impact knocks the oddly clad competitor backwards before he grabs the cone on top of his head and the bottom of his mask, twisting it in an angry manner then charging back in. Hurse boots him to the skull again, causing Ice Cream Jr to once more stumble in reverse before fixing his mask in a dramatic manner. This time when he comes in though Hurse is standing on the second rope, diving off with a well timed dropkick right to Ice Cream Jr’s sternum, knocking him down to the canvas again in a very slow manner. The World Champion gets to his knees and scrambles quickly into the cover.

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Ice Cream Jr gets his shoulder up in the nick of time.

Mayne: Ice Cream Jr barely kicking out, Dan. See, I want you to take back everything you just said about the toughness of these opponents.

Douglas: I will not take back anything, anything at all. I will admit that Ice Cream Jr and El Hijo Del Ice Cream are putting up a fight, but that’s all I’ll say about it.

Mayne: Thank you, it takes a big man to admit when he’s wrong.

Dan: I didn’t admit I was wrong at all.

Billy: Hold your head up high Dan, hold you head up high.

The crowd is still buzzing, or mildly awake at this point as Hurse grabs Ice Cream Jr around the neck, rolling him to his knees before charging into the ropes at his side. The World Champion bounces off and comes rushing back in before delivering a hard front dropkick right to the side of Ice Cream Jr’s head, knocking him over onto his back. Hurse then gets to his feet and rushes into the ropes once more, bouncing off as he rushes in before jumping into the air. He connects with a huge frog elbow right to the sternum of the Los Ice Creams’ member, who oversells accordingly. The Champion then rises to his feet and looks out over the crowd while shouting his own praises and placing his hands behind his head. He steps forward across the canvas, doing a modified squat thrust where he drops to a knee, then stands and drops to the other knee. The crowd is booing and heckling him as a result before the Champion stands up and flexes his muscles, revealing his rippling biceps, or those puny bulges in his flesh. He then turns back towards Ice Cream Jr who is getting to his knees, trying to stand up. Before he can, Hurse moves forward and wraps his arms around his neck, applying a cravate. He has him in the hold perfectly, twisting at his head with all of his strength while looking around at the crowd with a very devious smile on his face. The crowd actually finds themselves clapping and slapping the barricades now, calling for Ice Cream Jr to get up, to make it to his feet. Right as their reaction gets the loudest, he begins to rise to his feet. Both of which are planted beneath him before he throws an elbow into Hurse’s gut, followed by another one, trying to free himself from the hold. It’s clear he’s about to escape before Hurse breaks the cravate and reaches out with his legs, wrapping them around the ankle of Ice Cream Jr, drop toe holding him down to the canvas then rising to his knees behind him. Hurse gets up, lifting the leg of Ice Cream Jr into the air and placing it in a Boston Crab before stepping towards his corner. He drags Ice Cream Jr along with him towards Desolation while reaching out, slapping his hand and tagging him into the match. Desolation steps across the apron and grabs the top rope before pulling himself over into what appears to be the double stomp, but instead lands right beside the head of Ice Cream Jr then apathetically kicks backwards with his goot right into the face of his opponent. Ice Cream Jr rolls onto his back while Desolation steps forward across the canvas, swiping his hands together, Hurse shouting for him.

The Dark Man spins around, stepping towards Hurse who has one of Ice Cream Jr’s legs wrapped around his own. Desolation grabs the other one, lifting it into the air then wrapping his own around it. Both Hurse and Desolation fall towards Ice Cream Jr and as a result land on the canvas across the back of their heads, rolling across the ring. The momentum lifts Ice Cream Jr up off the canvas, causing him to roll backwards before he’s hoisted high into the air by his legs and then driven down hard back first across the canvas. As soon as his body hits the ring both Desolation and Hurse break their locks on his legs and stand up, each man grabbing a separate ankle then pulling them apart with all their strength like they were cracking a wishbone. Ice Cream Jr sits up, reaching for his genitals then being taken right back down with a hard buzzsaw kick to the sternum from Desolation. With Ice Cream Jr down Desolation steps forward across the ring with his fists buried to his hips and a conniving, arrogant grin on his face.

Douglas: Even though it greatly, greatly pains me to be calling this match, I must say that both Desolation and Hurse displayed some good teamwork just now with that double rolling leg lock into a wishbone.

Mayne: See, I knew you’d come around eventually.

Dan: I’m not. I’m perfectly allowed to admire a person’s move without jumping on their bandwagon.

The crowd is still heckling Desolation before he steps towards Ice Cream Jr who has gotten to his knees, trying to make it to his corner. Before he can Desolation stomps him hard to the back of the head, knocking him back down to all fours. He then grabs him around the neck, dragging him to his feet and slapping on a front gantry. The Dark Man snaps over backwards into a hard vertical suplex then rises to his feet, charging into the ropes before making a Mutah like motion with his legs and then planting the elbow hard into Ice Cream Jr’s chest. El Hijo is in the corner, unleashing high pitched yelps while his partner is worked over. Desolation grabs his opponent around the neck and drags him to his feet, pulling him to his corner where he tags in Hurse. There seems to be nothing Ice Cream Jr can do as Desolation steps to his side and places him in an abdominal stretch, Hurse climbing to the top rope. He steadies himself and jumps off with a punch right to the exposed ribs of Ice Cream Jr while he was still trapped in the abdominal stretch. After completing the move Desolation vacates the ring, Hurse grabbing Ice Cream Jr around the neck and dragging him to his knees before slugging him to the forehead, then doing it again. Hurse turns to the fans once again, swinging his hand around before cupping his ear and leaning into it in a Hogan like fashion. This only drawls the ire of the fans even further before Hurse does an Olympus like pose, even further intensifying the negativity directed at him. Finally Hurse just brushes them off and turns back towards Ice Cream Jr who jumps forward with a headbunt to the Champion’s gut, thus driving the cone on the top of his head into the rips of his opponent. Hurse bends forward, grabbing his mid-section in extreme pain before Ice Cream Jr stands up and levels him with another slow chop right to the top of the head. The force of which actually sends Hurse down this time with Ice Cream Jr staggering into his corner and making the tag. El Hijo quickly enters the ring and again does a little shimmy with his body while yelping loudly, stepping towards Hurse who is getting to his feet. El Hijo headbunts Hurse but holds onto his hair to keep him from falling. He then headbunts him again yet Hurse keeps standing somehow with the fans cheering. That’s when both he and Ice Cream Jr step back then rush forward, both men diving into the air and connecting with a double hadbunt on the World Champion, knocking him down to the canvas.

Mayne: Los Ice Creams fighting back here, Dan! This is unlike any main event I’ve ever seen.

Douglas: And I pray to God we’ll never have to see it again.

Desolation quickly enters the ring in a furious manner, charging at both Los Ice Creams who turn sideways in his direction. The duo catch him against their shoulders, standing up and dropping back with a slow, methodical double Samoan Drop, planting the Alpha Gen member hard into the canvas. Hurse is lying on his back still as El Hijo gets to his feet and approaches him, grabbing him by the legs and flipping forward. He has him in a bridging pin, holding onto the back of his legs while Ice Cream Jr crawls in and slides under his tag team partner into a regular press pin. El Hijo is still bridging over top of him as the referee drops to count the double pinfall.

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No, Desolation dives in and breaks it up at the last possible second. The crowd is still amused by the antics of Los Ice Creams, who rise defiantly to face Desolation. However, El Hijo receives a hard spinning back kick right to the gut, doubling him over. Desolation steps forward, tapping his temple before he turns back towards his prone opposition, the bent forward El Hijo. He doesn’t even spot Ice Cream Jr charging in, leap frogging El Hijo then landing right in front of Desolation only to poke him in the eye blatantly. The Dark Man spins away from the Los Ice Creams’ member, rubbing at his eye in pain before he turns to face Ice Cream Jr. He throws a big kick at his head that Ice Cream Jr ducks before bending forward, placing his head under Desolation’s rump then lifting him into the air in an electric chair drop position. El Hijo steps around in front of Desolation stuck in this prone position then jumps high into the air, launching a finger into his other eye. Desolation swings his hands in front of his face while El Hijo slips through the ropes onto the apron then scales the turnbuckle, getting to the top rope. It takes a few moments but Desolation’s eyes open in time to spot El Hijo diving from the top rope and turning so that his posterior connects right with his sternum. The fans go nuts at the sight of the double decker assasino from El Hijo, sending Desolation flipping off Ice Cream Jr’s shoulders and crashing to the canvas.

Mayne: Nooo!! Los Ice Creams might have it here.

Douglas: I’ll literally shit a kitten if this actually happens.

Billy: That sounds kind of painful.

El Hijo dives into the cover on Desolation while an exhausted Ice Cream Jr stumbles forward into one of the turnbuckles, leaning on it for support.

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Hurse steps in and stomps El Hijo to the back of the head, then steps in reverse after breaking up the pinfall. Ice Cream Jr turns around in his corner before Hurse rushes in and jumps into the air, delivering a heat seeking dropkick right to the face of his opponent. The impact seems to knock Ice Cream Jr out, yet somehow he remains standing in the corner.. Hurse rolls to his elbows and knees, getting to his feet when El Hijo stands up in front of him, stepping forward for a chop to his head. The World Champion ducks it and causes the chop to instead hit Ice Cream Jr in the forehead. El Hijo backs up, stunned over what he just did apparently, who can tell what real emotions these guys have before he turns to face Hurse who punches him right to the ice cream cone hanging from his chin. That’s when El Hijo noticeably becomes tenser, and much more furious, his entire body tightening up in anger. When Hurse sees this his lower lip begins to quiver, stepping backwards and sticking out his palms, begging off, insisting that he’s sorry for touching his cone.

Mayne: Oh no, I think Hurse just made a bigger mistake than crawling into bed with Robin Brooks. You don’t touch Los Ice Creams’ cones unless you have a death wish.

Douglas: So I’ve heard.

El Hijo suddenly goes insane, yelling gibberish and yelping while swinging his arms around before running right at Hurse. The World Champion is terrified, diving through the ropes to the outside with El Hijo in hot pursuit, chasing after him. Both men run around the ring, Hurse frantic to escape his demented opponent as El Hijo keeps charging after him, unwilling to allow his opponent to escape. The fans are laughing loudly before Hurse finally turns, sliding into the ring to escape El Hijo who begins to enter himself. He slides in across his gut and gets to all fours right when Desolation stands and jumps into the air, delivering the sickest, and stiffest front dropkick to the top of El Hijo’s skull ever heard. The fans grimace and groan at the sound of the collision before El Hijo drops onto his back, Desolation quickly scrambling into the cover.

Douglas: Ohhhh my God, what a dropkick from Desolation!

Mayne: That may have broke El Hijo’s cone.

El Hijo is out of it with Desolation hooking his leg, Hurse stepping in and dropping down on top of the Dark Man to apply further weight on the pin.

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Everyone in the arena explodes into boos as the Alpha Generation have narrowly scored a victory over this tough duo known as Los Ice Creams. Desolation and Hurse fall off the cover onto their posteriors with large smiles on their sweaty faces before they rise to their feet, the World Champion hugging the Dark Man, who has his arm raised aloft.

Mayne: They’ve done it, they’ve done it, Dan! In one of the most hard fought main events I’ve ever witnessed, the Alpha Generation again reign supreme.

Douglas: I will say that this main event did have it’s fair share of memorable moments, but otherwise this was a complete and utter farce. Now Desolation and Hurse are pretty much going into Born Again 100%.

Billy: After that hard fought main event? I doubt so.

The crowd is still booing while El Hijo and Ice Cream Jr roll out of the ring, leaving the AG to celebrate inside. Hurse grabs hold of Desolation’s wrist, lifting it into the air and pointing in his direction. The Dark Man acts like he’s about to pass out while Hurse grabs him around the waist, holding him up. Both men are grinning widely still, in great celebration when the lights in the arena suddenly dim. The voices of the crowd getting excited can be heard in the background, Hurse and Desolation’s outlines being seen in the darkness of the ring, twisting, turning frantically.

Mayne: Uh oh, I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. Someone tell me that a fat ass accidently tripped over a power cord backstage.

Douglas: I don’t think that was it Billy. I do believe there’s someone else responsible for this power outage, and I think we’re about to find out who that is.

That’s when something starts to happen, an oddly familiar tune beginning to descend through the PA systems. The music causes the fans to rise to their feet, getting really anxious, trying to put their finger on where they’ve heard this tune before. The lyrics of “Sun Doesn’t Rise’ by Mushroom Head seeping through the speakers. That’s when all eyes turn towards the titontron, where the words, “Holy War” appear. Everyone is jumping up and down in excitement as through the curtains stroll none other than AWOL and Chapel, both men standing side by side, putting on some thick, padded gloves.

Mayne: No, noooo! This can’t be happening, this cannot be happening!

Douglas: I’m just as shocked Billy. It’s the Holy War, it’s Chapel and AWOL! I thought I’d never see these two men standing side by side again!

The crowd is going nuts still while Hurse swallows deeply, sweat really coming down his brow now. Desolation is looking back and forth with a shocked expression on his face, in disbelief over what he’s seeing, the reunion, if only for one night of the Holy War. The War Angel and the Big Crazy Bastard make their way down the ramp towards the ring now.

Dan: AWOL and Chapel coming down the ramp together, about to take out some revenge on the Alpha Generation!

Mayne: This isn’t fair, both of these men are suppose to be injured! What are they still doing here? What is going on!?! Chapel and AWOL hate each other, they hate each other!!

Douglas: But I think their hatred of the Alpha Generation has begun to run much deeper. Feel this moment Billy, feel this moment!

The entire arena is still going nuts as both Chapel and AWOL move down the ramp methodically side by side, both men dressed for competition, ready to unleash their fury. Chapel’s leg is coated with wrapping and ice, but he shows no pain from his ankle and only intensity in his eyes. Neither Desolation nor Hurse seem to know what to do about this, the Dark Man instructing the World Champion to take the fight to the Holy War. But Hurse seems reluctant to do it, shaking his head repeatedly.

Fans: HOLY WAR, HOLY WAR, HOLY WAR!!

Both men have finally reached the end of the ramp, fitting their gloves on before Hurse drops to the canvas and rolls under the ropes. He immediately charges at Chapel who catches him with an uppercut under the jaw. The fans are going even more nuts as Hurse is knocked backwards from the blow, Chapel stepping forward and beginning to drill him to the side of the of the face repeated with hard right hands. AWOL slides into the ring only for Desolation to pounce on the man he won the World title from last year, beginning to stomp him repeatedly to the back of the head, then club him over the back several times. Yet with all these blows, AWOL is still rising to his feet, refusing to be taken down no matter how much each strike hurts him. Desolation chops him hard across the sternum and now rushes across the ring, bouncing off the opposite ropes then coming back in at AWOL, who rushes forward and delivers a devastating big boot right to the Dark Man’s face. Desolation is sent flipping over backwards almost, crashing onto his back while AWOL falls down beside him. Hurse is getting decked across the face around the ring, turning in the direction of Chapel only to be met with another thunderous uppercut strike that sends him crashing hard to the mats.

Douglas: Yes, yes, the Holy War are beating the living snot out of the Alpha Generation!

Mayne: This isn’t real, this isn’t really happening! Hurse and Desolation are suppose to be unstoppable!

The crowd is still going insane as Chapel decks Hurse under the jaw so hard it sends him flipping over the stairs behind him backwards, crashing hard to the outside mats. Inside of the ring, AWOL has grabbed Desolation around the neck, rolling him to his knees then delivering a thunderous chop to his chest. Desolation is sent into a spin before he turns to face AWOL who rushes forward with a hard lariat directly to his throat. AWOL now grunts as he turns and charges into the ropes at the Dark Man’s side, bouncing off and coming back in. He unleashes a roar while jumping into the air, extending his back and planting it right across the ribs of Desolation, who goes into convulsions on the canvas as a result. Chapel looks out over the fans who are cheering him while Hurse desperately grabs the time keeper by the shirt, dragging him out of his chair. He grabs hold of the steel mass and turns towards Chapel, the Champion lifting it above his head only to be booted hard right to the jaw and taken right back down to the canvas. The chair is dropped to the mats as a result before Chapel steps forward, grabbing it and hoisting into the air. The Livewire Champion briefly turns towards the fans who are screaming their heads off, demanding that he use it. A grin comes to Chapel’s face, a sick one at that while watching Hurse use the stairs to pull himself up in front of him. Just as he gets up, Chapel lifts the chair into the air and swings it down violently right over Hurse’s back, causing him to yell at the top of his lungs while tumbling to his knees and arching his spine.

Mayne: Oh my God no, no, no. Someone get EMTs out here, get security, get the army if you have to, just protect Desolation and Hurse!

Douglas: That chair shot may have just severed every bone and nerve in Hurse’s back.

Billy: I know, it’s horrible isn’t it?

Inside of the ring AWOL has grabbed Desolation by the hair, rolling him to his knees then holding onto the back of his head. He begins to launch kicks upward right into Desolation’s face repeatedly. Shin shot after shin shot is delivered right to the forehead of the former World Champion turned Alpha Generation member. Finally AWOL steps back and rushes forward, delivering a concussion causing shot. The impact causes Desolation’s eyes to roll to the back of his head before he tumbles onto his back, the crowd groaning at the sound of the stiff kick. AWOL now mounts Desolation and begins to fire right hands into his face repeatedly while Hurse is gorilla pressed into the air by Chapel then thrown through the ropes to the inside of the ring. The World Champion rolls across the canvas, arching his spine in pain, AWOL pulling Desolation to a standing base before burying his shoulder into his gut. He lifts him into the air then charges him spine first right into the turnbuckle with incredible force, AWOL turning away as Hurse starts to get to his feet across from him. As soon as he balances himself, AWOL rushes forward and drills him to the face with a hard jumping knee right between the eyes. Hurse is sent flipping over backwards as a result of the collision, crashing across the back of his head on the canvas before AWOL gets back to his feet. He turns towards Desolation and begins to shout something.

AWOL: MOOTTTTTHHHEEERRR FUCKEEEEERRRR!!!

AWOL charges across the ring and jumps into the air, hitting a huge knee strike to Desolation’s face while he was standing in the corner. The impact knocks Desolation off of his feet and to the canvas across his seat, looking out of it. AWOL lands on his feet and backs up in his blue jeans, grabbing the black sleeveless IWC shirt that clings to his upper body and ripping it off. He throws it into the fans in a huff then takes off across the ring, building more momentum after bouncing off the opposite ropes. AWOL comes rushing in and jumping forward almost to connect with a devastating face wash right to the mush of Desolation. The Dark Man thus rolls out of the corner, holding his features after the impact. Right at the same time on the other side of the ring, Chapel has pulled Hurse up into the air on his shoulders and drops down into a sit out powerbomb. The Champion is whipped out by the impact with the fans still putting their hands together, greatly enjoying seeing the Alpha Generation get what they deserve. That’s when both Chapel and AWOL rise to their feet and eye one another with sickening, twisted grins coming to their faces as they reach into their pockets. The fans really give a loud ovation as the former Holy War members remove railroad spikes from their pockets.

Mayne: Okay, enough is enough, don’t go too far now, don’t go too far!

Douglas: Railroad spikes! The AG are going to wish they were never born.

Mayne: Somebody stop this! Show mercy!

Both AWOL and Chapel nod while approaching Desolation, as well as the World Champion, who are on their knees, trying to get up. They lift the railroad spikes into the air, about to use them when Desolation launches his arm right into AWOL’s testicles, doubling him over. Hurse jumps forward, the top of his head connecting with the privates of Chapel. This leaves both men doubled over, dropping the railroad spikes while Hurse gets to his feet, delivering a hard European uppercut to the jaw of Chapel, staggering the Livewire Champion. Desolation gets up and steps to the side of AWOL before connecting with a hard upward thrust kick right to his chest. The Riot GM Is knocked off of his feet and sent crashing to the canvas back first. Desolation then turns and rushes at Chapel who has spun to face him only to be taken down with a huge leg lariat. Hurse rushes at AWOL, jumping over him then charging at the ropes as he springs onto the second one and moonsaults over backwards right on top of the General Manager.

Mayne: Well, nevermind my pleas for security now, as the Alpha Generation are getting the advantage back, hahahahaha. Desolation and Hurse are owning the Holy War!

Douglas: Thanks to a couple of low blows. I was really going to enjoy the sight of these two being ripped apart with those railroad spikes.

Billy: You sick, twisted bastard Dan. Your suppose to be the considerate, kind member of the broadcast team, not some damned sadist. Your stepping on my toes!

AWOL and Chapel are now down as Hurse climbs on top of the Big Crazy Bastard, beginning to slug him repeatedly to the face. The War Angel is to his knees but Chapel connects with a hard buzzsaw kick right to his chest, knocking him onto his back again. Desolation begins to shout down into his face before he approaches one of the railroad spikes, lifting it up off the canvas then tossing it to Hurse. The Champion eagerly takes hold of it, staring down into the sharpened edge with a smirk on his face. Desolation has the other railroad spike at this point, swinging it around between his fingers while glaring at Chapel, who is again trying to force himself to his feet. Hurse and Desolation stand by side now with the spikes gripped in their hands, waiting for Chapel and AWOL to get up. Both former Holy War members are slowly rising as the Alpha Generation duo charge forward. Just then both AWOL and Chapel bend forward, catching them knees first against their shoulders and back dropping Desolation and Hurse high into the air. The Alpha Gen members flip over and crash hard on their backs, immediately arching them from the canvas in pain to a thunderous ovation from the fans. The GM and the War Angel snatch up the dropped spikes now ands turn around just as Desolation and Hurse instinctively rise to their feet. Right as they get their wobbly legs beneath them, the spikes are driven directly into their foreheads. Hurse drops onto his back after being spiked in the head by AWOL, rolling around on the canvas with his hands over his face. Desolation has dropped to his posterior with a far off glint in his eyes, blood dribbling down his face.

Mayne: Ahhhhhhhh!

Douglas: The reunited Holy War have just spiked the Alpha Generation members right to their heads! Get em guys, get em!

Hurse pulls his hands away from his face, staring into the blood on his palms in shock while AWOL steps over him and begins to punch downward into his face repeatedly. Chapel charges forward and boots Desolation in the face, knocking him onto his back, that’s when the crowd starts booing furiously, for Jackson Adams and Too Magnificent are rushing from the back.

Billy: Finally, here comes some reinforcements!

Douglas: Of course, anytime either Desolation or Hurse are in a bind, here comes the rest of the Alpha Generation.

Too Magnificent enters the ring and rushes up behind Chapel, connecting with a forearm strike over his back that knocks him forward. He spins around and begins to receive right hands to the face now while Jackson Adams chop blocks AWOL to the back of the knee from behind. The GM spills onto his back before Adams gets to his feet and begins to stomp away at him repeatedly. Desolation pulls himself to his feet and begins to stomp at Chapel while blood drips down the Dark Man’s face. Too Magnificent is doing the same. Somehow a staggering Hurse is able to find his way to an upright base, his face submerged in a puddle of blood before he too joins in with stomps at AWOL. The Alpha advantage doesn’t last long though as through the curtains rushes Jon Rich, followed by Roxas Knoxx, and Psycho. All three individuals charge at the ring with the crowd going nuts.

Douglas: And here’s come some Riot! reinforcements!

Mayne: Wait a minute, weren’t all these people fired!?! They’re trespassing!

Dan: I imagine that AWOL rehired them.

Billy: He’s not allowed to do that!

The crowd is going nuts as Rich jumps onto the apron then climbs to the top rope, steadying himself, waiting for Jackson Adams to turn around. As soon as JA does so, Jon jumps from the top rope and connects with a huge missile dropkick right to his chest. Jackson is sent flying down at the canvas while Too Magnificent turns towards an entering Psycho, rushing forward with a lariat at his head. He misses though as Psycho gets behind him, clamping on a cobra clutch then dropping back into the Psychotic Episode. Too Mag crashes across the back of his head then flips over onto his knees before he falls down to the canvas, rolling under the ropes to the outside of the ring. AWOL and Chapel get to their knees and begin to deck the guts of both Hurse as well as Desolation. After delivering rapid fire punches they both uppercut the AG members, sending them flying backwards, hitting the ring before they roll under the ropes to the outside of the ring. Everyone is screaming now, standing up and showing their support as AWOL, Chapel, Jon Rich, Psycho, and Knoxx have cleared the ring. Roxas has Jackson by the back of the head, rushing him at the ropes and throwing him over to the outside, doing her part to gain a small measure of revenge.

Douglas: The IWC roster have just cleared the Alpha Generation run from the ring! What a night this has been, what a shocking evening. I never would have suspected this evening end like this. AWOL and Chapel have reunited to take on the Alpha Generation!

Mayne: I refuse to believe this is happening. It isn’t, I’m having a nightmare, any moment now I’m going to be giving a speech without any pants on, I know it.

The crowd is giving this action a standing ovation while Chapel, Rich, AWOL, Psycho, and Knoxx all stand side by side in the ring, watching as the Alpha Generation fall into one another at the bottom of the ramp. Intensity is present within all their eyes.

Douglas: What is going to happen at Born Again when these two teams collide!?!

Mayne: I got bad feelings about this Sunday, real bad feelings.

The copyright symbol appears in the corner of the screen while the Alpha Generation stand bloodied outside the ring, and the IWC roster members stand proud in the center of the squared circle.

FADE TO BLACK