OPENING VIDEO PACKAGE

The fans are shown throwing their hands into the air in slow motion, caught in different colors, with the feed freezing every so often on a crazed spectator’s features, exhilarated by what they are witnessing. It then cuts to aerial scenes of the city streets below with cars buzzing by an arena in fast motion.

If you feel so empty
So used up so let down
If you feel so angry
So ripped off so stepped on
You're not the only one
Refusing to back down
You're not the only one
So get up

The fans are again shown going even more crazy with their fists held up high, the camera freezing on a clinched set of digits, as it turns from normal color to a black and white hue. It then switches to Bitchcakes McPhee standing on the stage with a beer in one hand a large smile plastered on his face before cutting to an aerial view with stop motion footage of hundreds of fans waiting in line to get into the building.

Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot

Scenes cut from the crazed fans in the stands to deranged mobs throwing Molotov cocktails down the street with burning rags stuck out of the back of them. It switches quickly to AWOL’s fierce face glaring forward maliciously before shifting to Aurora Rose standing on the turnbuckle, pointing out over the fans with a large smile on her face. It then cuts to Jackson Adams giving an opponent the Spectacular Ending before shifting to an explosion rocking through a building while it crumbles and collapses to the ground. Desolation is then featured jumping off the top of a cage roof with a shooting star press.

If you feel so filthy so dirty
so fucked up
If you feel so walked on
So painful so pissed off
You're not the only one
Refusing to go down
You're not the only one
So get up

Police are shown gathered in a straight line with shields held out in front of them, dressed in all riot gear while marching down the street. The video then switches to Simon Cagero disrobing in the ring. Thankfully the images transfer to Too Magnificent bashing someone over the head with a trash can before cutting to Nathan Creed maliciously glaring about his surroundings. Another image features Orlando Cruze standing on the stage and raising his arm above his head, as pyros explode on all sides of him. This image is short lived as people are featured being detained, cuffs slapped around their wrists while being forced into the back of large police vans.

Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot

If you feel so empty
So used up, so let down
If you feel so angry
Just get up

Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot

Robin Brooks takes up the screen diving off the top rope with a moonsault and coming crashing down stomach first towards the camera that was aimed upwards to catch a glimpse of her in all of her acrobatic splendor. The package then showcases Chapel delivering the Cardinal Sin while surrounded by a steel cage before shifting to a bloodied smiling face of Psycho, his dementia clear within his wide deranged eyes. Adam Riddick is featured flying through the air with a frog splash, soaring gracefully. Police are shown beating some looter with their knight sticks until Seth Owens takes over the screen, hitting a big lariat on someone. Pat Evans is then the focus of intention, ripping at a victim’s ankle with a tough, yet textbook submission. That’s before images are shown of Jon Rich delivering a missile dropkick as well as Orlando giving the Rock Bottom on Desolation. It then switches abruptly to Jon Torretto trying to force Too Magnificent’s head into a shredder. Zack Nolen is shown delivering a huge powerbomb on one of his victims before it cuts to a burning building, people running out of the flaming structure with stolen goods.

Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot

Hurse is featured on top the shoulders of the Alpha Generation while holding the World Heavyweight title above his head. Abruptly the video switches to Psycho delivering the Psychotic Episode on one of his many victims before transitioning into an image of Roxas Knoxx taking out a large group of people with the use of her own body as a weapon. Ryan Mills takes up the screen delivering a superkick to his opponent’s jaw before cutting to Pat Evans holding onto the fujiwara. The video switches to Christian Savior standing in a hallway with light hitting him from behind, almost enveloping him as a result.

Let's start a riot, a riot Let's start a riot

RIOT!

BITCHCAKES McPHEE VS. ADAM RIDDICK

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. They all seem to be cheering a little louder this week for McPhee, showing him a bit more appreciation after what he endured in one of the hardest fought matches on his career in the Luck of the Drawl Gauntlet battle just last week. A match to which McPhee still seems to be feeling the effects.

"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 his opponent to stroll out from the backstage area. A bit bandaging can be noticed peaking out from behind his flannel shirt, perhaps feeling the physical rigors of his last performance a little worse than he’s letting on.

Dan Douglas: Welcome one and all to another edition of IWC Riot!, and as you can see we’re not waiting or holding back the action, as Bitchcakes McPhee is already in the ring ready for the challenge of Adam Riddick.

Billy Mayne: Thanks for skimming over my introduction.

Dan: Hahaha, oh Billy, I didn’t introduce you at all.

Bitchcakes marches back and forth, holding his shoulder as he stretches it when…

"And I aint gonna be just a face in the crowd...
You're gonna hear my voice when I shout it out loud...

"It's my life" by Jon Bon Jovi hits the titantron. The crowd comes to life as the sound of a motorcycle engine revs up. The fans cheer as Adam Riddick, dawning his leather jacket with white wifebeater, wrestling pants, and ring boots, rides out onto the stage on his 2004 United Motors Renegade 200. Holding onto his back is his wife, Kassie Khane.

The Renegade Rocker circles the ring once before bringing the bike to a stop at the bottom of the ramp. Hoping off his bike, Adam slides into the ring while Kassie remains outside.

Hopping onto the middle rope of the nearest turnbuckle, Adam glares out at the crowd, a smirk appearing on his face. He blows Kassie a kiss before hoping off the turnbuckle and taking off his leather jacket and shirt. He then turns towards Bitchcakes, giving him a confused glare, his eyebrow arching at the sight of his opponent who is in the middle of doing calisthenics.

Douglas: What a way to kick off Riot! tonight with what should be a phenomenal match between two of the best future stars of IWC. Here we’ve got Adam Riddick who has been nothing short of impressive since his arrival at Born Again, and Bitchcakes McPhee who’s really gotten that internal fire burning again, and proved he’s a main event player waiting to happen by defeating four separate individuals in the gauntlet match last week.

Mayne: Pfft, did he win the gauntlet match? No, he failed against Chapel, so there’s no reason for us to be sitting here praising his few accolades. Adam on the other hand, was victorious last week, but I don’t see why he can’t me more opportunistic like his brother, Christian.

Douglas: You mean be as big of an insufferable pain in the ass? I don’t know, maybe it’s because the man actually has a heart?

Kassie is still cheering on Riddick who glares into the face of McPhee, who appears a little more serious this evening as the bell sounds the match officially getting underway. The two individuals circle one another quickly and then begin to step forward tentatively at first into a collar elbow lock up. They jockey for positioning now before McPhee quickly slips around Riddick’s arm, pulling it out to his side and placing it in an arm ringer. Adam bends forward as a smirking Bitchcakes then steps over top of the arm, straddling it with his back aimed in his opponent’s direction. He quickly bends forward and launches his ass right into the side of the Renegade Rocker’s face, the fans reacting with a huge wave of cheers. The collision knocks Adam to the canvas and sends him rolling onto his knees, rising onto them and glaring into Bitchcakes’ face in a bit of frustration. In the meanwhile he scrubs at his cheek with his palm, making sure that McPhee’s posterior didn’t deposit anything there. A confused McPhee spins around rubbing at his posterior and shouting something in the process.

Bitchcakes: Did you just bite my left ass-cheek? You perv.

A bewildered and bothered Adam looks around, asking if McPhee was talking about him then immediately shaking his head no while rising to his feet. He steps forward and slaps his own ass before pointing at McPhee’s, demanding he not use it as a weapon while Bitchcakes holds his palms up, nodding then reaching out, taking hold of Riddick’s wrist. He swings around under it and places him in the twisting wrist lock once more, Adam bent forward, grimacing from the pain that shoots through his arm. He then uses his height and weight advantage to pull on his arm and drag McPhee towards him, launching a fist at his face in the process. Thinking with quickness, McPhee ducks it and waits for Riddick to spin around, Adam doing so before his wrist is taken hold of once more. Bitchcakes spins under it, placing him again in the arm ringer before his opponent switches around into his own twisting wrist lock. The deceivingly agile McPhee ducks down and rolls across the canvas to escape the hold before getting to his feet with his back aimed in Riddick’s direction. Adam charges forward and ducks down when Bitchcakes springs into the air, reverse leap frogging him. This allows Riddick to charge into the cables in front of his smaller opponent, bouncing off then coming back in when Bitchcakes springs into the air, spinning around and launching his bum right into Adam’s chest. The fans react with great enthusiasm as Riddick is knocked to the canvas, rolling across it, Bitchcakes dropping onto his feet. He spins around furiously while Adam rolls under the cables to the outside of the ring, pointing at his bum in the process.

McPhee: I said stop fondling my ass God dammit! What are you trying to do, examine my fucking prostrate?

A loud ovation again commences from a laughing crowd while Adam just stands on the outside of the ring, his fists to his hips and a slight smile coming to his face. He shakes his head and rubs at his jaw while Kassie comes up to him, placing her hands on his smooth cheeks. She slips her fingers across his flesh and begins to pull him towards her before stopping and stepping back aghast.

Kassie: Oh God, Adam, sweety, your face smells like an asshole.

Adam shakes his head, becoming a tad disgruntled at what McPhee has done to him.

Douglas: Bitchcakes using his most potent weapon to his advantage, utilizing what has cushioned many of his falls inside that wrestling ring.

Mayne: I think the use of an ass should qualify as a foreign weapon and thus be outlawed in a wrestling match.

After a moment’s hesitation Riddick rolls back into the ring, official Stuart Wright stopping his ten count and stepping back to watch the rest of this action. McPhee makes a motion towards his rear-end then lifts a finger, shaking it back and forth to insist that Riddick stay away from it now. Adam puts his palms up and mouths the words “I’ll try, I’ll try.” That’s when they both step forward and lock up yet again. This time though a more aggressive Riddick stops playing around and instead shoves Bitchcakes down to the canvas with great force. The push causes Bitchcakes to crash into the canvas then roll over in reverse onto his knees, beginning to stand up with his spine pressed to one of the turnbuckles. A more intense Riddick comes charging in with a lariat only for his stout opponent to duck it, causing Adam to spin around and slam back first into the corner. Now that Adam is pressed to the corner, McPhee comes barreling towards him then jumps into the air, turning so he hits an ass first splash right into Riddick’s chest. The collision knocks Adam from his feet and causes the Renegade to land on his back side with his spine pressed to the corner, in perfect positioning for a stink face, which Bitchcakes realizes right at that moment. He glances over his shoulder at the seated Adam before a devious smile comes to his face, Kassie screaming and begging him not to do it from the outside of the ring. Her pleas go unanswered though as Bitchcakes turns his bum in his seated opponent’s direction, waddling backwards towards him. He bends forward a bit to put the full amount of his ass tissue directly into Adam’s dazed, almost incoherent face.

Bitchcakes: If I feel a tongue in my ass I’m suing.

Another round of laughter comes from the fans as McPhee steps closer and closer to Adams’ face with those dreaded cheeks of disaster. Just then Adam pulls himself up against the turnbuckle and bends forward as a unknowing McPhee unwittingly backs right into his shoulder, Riddick hoisting him into the air then charging across the ring. He then drops Bitchcakes ass first right into his knee, a shout coming from the drunken individual who jumps forward, reaching for his posterior. Just as he turns around though, Riddick rushes forward and almost beheads him with a brutal lariat to the throat. Bitchcakes flips over a bit and crashes into the canvas across the back of his head and shoulders, Riddick landing on all fours at his side. An almost unconscious McPhee rolls onto his back before Riddick crawls into the cover, hooking his leg to much praise from Kassie.

Bitchcakes is able to get his shoulder from the canvas even in his very groggy, dazed state. He turns away from Adam, blinking his eyes sporadically as he attempts to get his head straight before Riddick grabs hold of his shoulder, pulling him down spine first into the canvas. He lifts his elbow, dropping it square to McPhee’s chest then stands, delivering another quick, vicious elbow into his sternum. As fast as his large frame will allow, Adam gets to his feet, springs into the air and comes down with a leg right to his opponent’s throat. Bitchcakes’ body kicks up into the air due to all the weight coming down onto his wind pipe. He then rolls across the canvas towards the cables.

Mayne: Riddick now on the advantage and the ass play has ended, thank God.

Douglas: For now at least. But you can see just how aggressive this Riddick is, he never lets up, and doesn’t stop the brutality until he gets what he wants, a win.

Billy: Or a haircut, that mop on his head is so 1976.

Bitchcakes rolls under the cables to the apron, grabbing hold of them and using them to drag himself to his feet while his back is pressed against them. This momentary comfort is short lived as the Renegade Rocker takes hold of his hair, yanking down on it so the back of his neck is over the top rope, Adam lifting his elbow into the air then driving it down into his opponent’s exposed face. Bitchcakes reaches for his features while tumbling onto his seat with his spine pressed to the cables. Even that doesn’t last very long as Riddick jumps into the air, dropkicking him to the back through the ropes, thus launching him forward over the mats before he charges ribs first into the barricade. A loud groan emanates from McPhee, his ribs still soar after his previous performances just a few weeks ago, five matches that tested his endurance and all his hard training. The pain keeps him from looking up at Riddick who is climbing one of the turnbuckles, getting to the top rope in an almost uncharacteristic manner for a man of his proportions. Kassie implores him not to try it but Adam can’t listen as he launches himself from the top rope with a double axehandle, only for Bitchcakes to step out of the way at the last second, causing him to crash hard chest first into the barricade. Adam bounces off and turns his spine to the steel as Bitchcakes steps to his side and throws a hard knife edge chop right across his chest. He then peppers him to the jaw with a closed fist that knocks Adam off of his feet and causes him to land posterior first to the mats, leaning with his spine into the barricade. All the while Bitchcakes staggers towards the ring, leaning against the apron then turning around and rushing forward at his opponent, he sticks out his ass and sandwiches Adam between his buns of steel and the actual steel of the barricade. The collision causes Riddick to grab at his neck while Bitchcakes staggers forward, fixing his shorts a bit, Kassie watching on in a saddened state of despair.

Nevertheless, even after such a brutal collision, Adam uses the barricade to force himself to his feet, Bitchcakes stepping to his side while bending forward then chopping upward directly into his chest. Adam turns away from McPhee and starts towards the ring, rolling in under the ropes, his hefty opponent pursuing him. He rolls in under the cables while Adam gets to a standing base, spinning to face him only to receive another knife edge chop to his chest. The chop causes Adam to turn away from Bitchcakes, stumbling across the ring until he’s grabbed by the shoulder and spun around to face his attacker who takes him by the wrist and whips him across the canvas. Riddick bounces off the opposite ropes and comes back in before Bitchcakes charges at him, jumping into the air with an extension of his rear-end for another butt blast. He can’t hit it though as Adam has dropped down into a baseball slide under his legs, quickly scrambling to get to his feet. Realizing his opponent is reaching a standing base, Bitchcakes charges with great haste into the cables back first, bouncing off and getting a running start before he charges right into Riddick’s shoulder. Adam stands, twists, and then drives Bitchcakes with authority into the canvas using his rolling spine buster. Bitchakes sits up howling in pain as he reaches for his lower back, but Adam pushes him to his shoulders while hooking his leg.

McPhee gets his shoulder up off the canvas in the nick of time, agitating an already agitated Riddick.

Mayne: What a bruising spinebuster, which should have greater impact on a set of ribs that are already possibly bruised in the first place.

Douglas: It really is a testament to what this guy is all about being out here competing after everything he went through last week. And on top of that he kicks out of these massive power moves from Riddick, it just amazes me.

Billy: You’d be amazed by a gay wedding you bastard, events that Bitchcakes has probably crashed many times before for the free boos.

Riddick stands with a frustrated glint in his eyes before dropping a quick knee to the face of his opponent then rising to his feet and charging into the cables. He ricochets off then comes back in before jumping into the air, dropping another high impact knee directly into the mush of Bitchcakes’ face. After completing the move Adam rolls forward across the canvas, getting to his feet then charging into the opposite ropes, he bounces off them then comes charging back into a twisting, Muta like elbow directly into the heart of his opponent. He spins around on his knees and buries his elbow into Bitchcakes face, not even giving him a moment to breathe before he goes for the pin again.

Once more McPhee is forced to exert the energy to get his shoulder up, turning away from Riddick who takes him by the hair and leads him slowly to his feet. Adam bends forward, wedging his shoulder against McPhee’s chest then shoving him backwards with force right into one of the turnbuckles. The force of the collision causes a loud audible scream of pain to escape McPhee’s lungs while Riddick immediately wraps his arms around his wide abdomen, dragging him out of the corner. He drops back and flips Bitchcakes through the air straight into a hard belly to belly suplex. Again Bitchcakes sits up and yells out in anguish, unable to take much more of this brutality, especially as Adam charges into the cables in front of him, bouncing off then coming back in with a well timed boot directly to McPhee’s face. He’s knocked onto his back while Riddick steps around his legs, grabbing hold of them and lifting them into the air, he spreads them apart then delivers a stomp directly to Bitchcakes’ mid-section. McPhee wraps his arms around his mid-section, his features twisting with anguish while Adam holds onto his legs, lifting them under his armpits. Using all his strength he hoists Bitchcakes’ body off the canvas then begins to spin him around and around and around into a giant swing. A pale hue overtakes McPhee’s face as if on the verge of throwing up before he’s finally tossed across the ring, spinning through the air and coming to a crashing halt across the canvas. He rolls across it into the ropes, trying to hold back upchucking while Adam stumbles and staggers around the ring, trying to fight off the dizziness that has taken hold of him. Referee Wright comes in to check on his status when Adam grabs hold of him and drops to the canvas, rolling him up into a small package. Wright kicks out and turns onto his knees while Adam gets to his feet, clinching his fist to punch him in the face until he realizes that the official is not his opponent. Adam squeezes his eyes together to fight off the dizziness before finally approaching McPhee, stepping up onto his ribs and grabbing hold of the top rope for leverage. Bitchcakes shouts in pain as his ribs are crunched under the large feet of Riddick, Kassie imploring him to keep putting the pressure in as much as possible.

Dan: Riddick really going to work on those ribs here in our opening contest to Riot!, attacking perhaps the weakest portion of Bitchcakes body after the events that unfolded last week.

Mayne: Indeed, what McPhee did on the last show was the equivalent of a 300 hundred pound woman running a marathon while dragging a semi truck behind her back with only the use of her teeth and spitting babies from her uterus the entire time.

Wright collects himself after that nearfall he was just involved in, starting a five count on Riddick who drops off the ribs of McPhee only to come down with a knee into his gut. He has little time to vocalize his anguish before he’s taken by the hair and dragged up to his feet, Riddick pulling him to the center of the ring then clamping his arms around his waist. He’s got him locked now in a bearhug, really squeezing at his opponent’s abdomen. The anguish flowing through Bitchcakes’ mid-section is almost indescribable as he leans over Adam’s shoulder, forced to use him as a brace to keep himself standing. Official Wright steps in inquiring as to rather he wishes to submit or not only for a defiant McPhee to shout “nay.” This entices Riddick to squeeze with a little more force and increase the agony that is flooding his entire body. McPhee’s eyes welt with anguish while he finds himself fading slowly at the hands of his larger opponent. His teeth suddenly grit and his eyes flash with determination before he lifts his elbow, beginning to drive it repeatedly into the back of Riddick’s skull, trying his best to break out of this submission hold that is almost imploding his ribs within his opposition’s arms. Adam’s bearhug is starting to weaken with every elbow to the back of his skull and neck before he unleashes a roar, charging McPhee backwards across the ring and driving him spine first into the turnbuckle once more. Bitchcakes curls over the corner and can’t even verbally express the amount of pain he is in while Riddick stands upright to kick him several times to the mid-section. Each blow almost takes McPhee down to the canvas, yet he remains standing against the corner, even as Riddick grabs the front of his shirt, ripping it down the middle to expose his opponent’s incredibly pale chest. He changes its hue to red with a devastating chop planted right across the sternum, McPhee almost taken from his feet as a result. Adam steps backwards across the ring and then charges forward with a lariat directly into his opponent’s throat, Bitchcakes’ legs kicking into the air, yet he’s still standing. A slightly smirking Riddick backs up now, realizing he has this match won before he charges forward with another lariat. On this occasion McPhee gets his foot up right into his jaw though, Riddick suddenly staggered by the impact, falling to one knee. Bitchcakes uses this moment to pull himself up onto the second rope then launch himself off at his kneeling opponent. His girth soars through the air until Adam stands upright, catching him around the waist, pulling him down to his feet and locking in the bearhug once more.

Mayne: Hahaha, please excuse my amusement over Bitchcakes’ incapability to mount some offense in this contest.

Douglas: You’ll never be excused for your ignorance Billy. Bitchcakes thought he had something there but it led him right back into the bearhug, Riddick using all his strength to exert as much pain on that already battered mid-section.

Mayne: It’s only a matter of time now before we see the submission.

Bitchcakes is becoming almost lifeless in the grip of Riddick, who squeezes at his ribs with as much force as he can possibly put into it. On the outside of the ring Kassie is watching on closely, hoping to see that submission right here and right now. It won’t happen soon as McPhee is persistently fighting through this pain in his abdomen. His face is filled with devotion and emotion while he buries his feet against the canvas, trying to get out of this submission. Again he finds himself launching an elbow into the back of Riddick’s neck, which causes Adam to waver for a bit then put all his strength into the bearhug once again. Bitchcakes almost loses his footing before he leans back and wraps his hands around the sides of Adam’s cranium, immediately head bunting him right to the skull. The impact almost rips both men open and causes Riddick’s eyes to roll to the back of his head, McPhee seconds away from escaping the hold before Adam awakes and again charges him backwards into the corner. Bitchcakes finds his spine compressed against the turnbuckle and himself shouting from the pain the impact has caused as Adam takes a step back. He opts to get a running start this time as he bends forward into a shoulder aimed right at the injured mid-section of his opponent. Before he can connect McPhee steps out of the way and Riddick launches himself through the cables shoulder first into the exposed steel turnbuckle post. A loud groan comes from the fans while Kassie places her hand over her gaping mouth, Riddick stepping in reverse then turning as his spine is pressed to the corner. His hand is settled over his shoulder while Bitchcakes turns to face him then comes charging back in, extending his boot right at Riddick’s face. Adam is the one who sidesteps it this time, causing McPhee’s leg to shoot over the top rope. His knee is placed over the cable while Riddick steps up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist for a German out of the corner. Just as he’s about to hit it McPhee wraps his hand around the top rope and with his other arm launches an elbow right into Riddick’s eye socket. This causes Adam to stumble in reverse reaching for his eye and shaking his shoulder, allowing Bitchcakes a moment to climb up the turnbuckle then launch himself off backwards into a super ass bump right into Riddick’s chest. The Renegade Rocker is knocked off of his feet and onto his back with McPhee coming down beside him, rolling across the ring, left in the same state that his opponent is in. Kassie is slapping the apron and screaming at Adam to get up.

Douglas: A huge ass splash from the second rope by McPhee, is there nothing that rear-end can’t do?

Mayne: Attract females?

The crowd seems to be staunchly behind McPhee now while he gets to the points of his elbows, forcing himself along into the cover on Riddick.

No, Adam gets his shoulder from the canvas with just a few seconds to spare. McPhee rolls onto his back, slapping his hands over his face and appearing exasperated by the fact that he failed to get the three count on that exchange. Breathing heavily he forces himself up to his feet now, Riddick trying to do the same. As Adam gets up to a kneeling base Bitchcakes charges forward and delivers a knee of his own right into the Renegade’s face. As a result Riddick stands up straight, looking glassy eyed while Bitchcakes charges into the cables in front of him, springing up and landing on the second rope before launching himself off into a huge back elbow to Adam’s chest. Both men crash to the canvas with McPhee rolling across the ring, the momentum in his favor at this junction in time. Kassie is covering her eyes and shaking her head on the outside of the ring while her husband rolls to his knees, trying to get up. Just as he does that Bitchcakes moves in, slugging him to the side of the jaw, then doing it once more, and again, and again. Each impact almost takes Riddick down to the canvas before Bitchcakes rushes into the cables in front of him. He bounces off, coming back in at Adam who stands suddenly with quickness, catching McPhee’s ribs against his shoulder, trying to hoist him into the air for the spinebuster. Riddick begins to lift him before McPhee counters, catching him around the neck and shouting “Moo.” He’s about to hit his DDT when Adam realizes it, throwing him off his shoulder and causing Bitchcakes to land on his feet in front of him. An agitated Riddick charges forward right at him with a lariat only for Bitchcakes to drop and roll under the arm, ending up on his feet behind his opposition. Adam spins around quickly but doesn’t do so in time to stop Bitchcakes who rushes in with a Charging Bull directly into his mid-section. The spear knocks Riddick off of his feet and sends him crashing hard into the canvas across his back, but unfortunately for McPhee, Adam’s fist hit the referee in the eye while he was tumbling. Wright turns away from the action, rubbing at his eyes in pain and almost falling into one of the turnbuckles, Bitchcakes starting to crawl into the cover before he realizes the state the official is in. Adam is completely laid out before him thanks to that hard hitting Charging Bull, McPhee realizing a possible victory is within his grasp if it weren’t for the poor ring positioning of Wright.

Mayne: Aww, tough break for Bitchcakes, he might have just had the victory if it weren’t for Riddick’s fist flying into Wright’s face.

Douglas: Even your sympathy is condescending. Indeed this is a bad break for McPhee though, who might have a win here after that Charging Bull.

An irate Bitchcakes gets to his feet, beginning to approach the official to make him turn around and make the count before Christian Savior slides into the ring behind him. The X-Class title is wrapped around Christian’s waist while he rises to his feet, having charged through the fans and entered the ring behind an unsuspecting McPhee.

Douglas: What the hell is Christian Savior doing here!?! And with the X-Class title wrapped around his waist?

Mayne: Maybe he’s playing cheerleader for his older brother.

Douglas: He doesn’t have to sneak into the ring behind Bitchcakes’ back with the official hurt to do that.

Bitchcakes is approaching Wright while Savior is bent forward behind him, urging him to spin around. Kassie is yelling at Christian to get out of the ring but he’s not listening as McPhee turns around and finally spots him, Savior jumping into the air right at that moment to grab him around the neck. He’s going for his version of the diamond cutter only for McPhee to push him off, sending him charging into the cables in front of him. Christian bounces off the ropes then comes charging back in at a mad McPhee who rushes forward for a lariat only to be speared straight to the gut by Savior. A loud collection of boos explodes from the crowd while Savior quickly rolls from the ring after hitting his Blaze of Glory, laying McPhee out on the canvas. He’s again reaching for his mid-section, groaning from the pain that courses through it while Savior drops down onto the outside mats. He backs past Kassie who has turned, asking him what the hell he’s doing, yet a smirking Savior doesn’t respond. Instead he just backs up the ramp and slaps his hands over the golden plate of the title belt he stole last week, all the while wearing that same condescending grin on his face.

Douglas: This is outrageous, McPhee may have had a victory but then Savior shows up and almost cuts him in half with a spear.

Mayne: If he really cut him in half do you think Bitchcakes could then become a magician assistant? It be really cool when they do the sawing in half trick, because for once it actually be real, hahahaha. Oh lordy how I amuse myself.

The fans are just as outraged as Douglas while Riddick turns onto his knees, spotting the down McPhee while clutching at his ribs. He takes several deep breaths then looks towards the turnbuckle, standing up and moving in its direction. He passes McPhee with questioning eyes while slipping through the ropes onto the apron, scaling the corner, trying to figure out how his opponent got laid out but ultimately flying from the top cable with a frog splash. All the air is driven from the already damaged torso of McPhee who is now almost lifeless as Adam hooks both his legs. Wright stands up with a palm over his damaged eye before he turns to the action and drops to the canvas, making the three count.

The response from the crowd is mostly mixed while Riddick sits up, sweat cascading down his exhausted features. McPhee turns onto his side and continues to hold his badly damaged ribs, trying to fight through the pain.

Douglas: This is plain disgusting, Christian Savior ruined our opening contest, and in turn cost Bitchcakes this match. Why did he have to get involved in this thing!?!

Mayne: I don’t have a clue, but believe me, after what Bitchcakes did to Jackson Adams last week, I’m quite happy that he was defeated right here tonight. McPhee should know his damn place.

Dan: I can’t believe you said that Billy. Especially after everything that McPhee has done these past two weeks, lasting through four opponents on the last Riot!, and now almost defeating one of SCW’s former best. If it weren’t for Christian, Bitchcakes might be standing here with his arm raised aloft tonight in victory.

The Renegade Rocker has rolled to the outside of the ring, sweating profusely while Kassie walks towards him, pointing to the backstage area, explaining what Christian just did. The revelation seems to unnerve Adam greatly as he takes Kassie by the wrist and storms towards the back. All that is left in the ring is McPhee, who lies on his side, glaring through the cables and holding his mid-section in horrible pain. Saliva drips from the corner of his mouth while his angry, brooding eyes watch Adam leave, realizing the injustice that was just perpetuated against him.

Mayne: What a way to kick off tonight’s show.

Douglas: Only you would find this spectacle entertaining. We just saw a great opening match to Riot!, ruined by the outside interference of Christian Savior. I am absolutely disgusted.

Billy: Okay guys in the truck, cut to commercial till we get Dan’s panties untwisted.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

TRUST ME!

The outrage that was already brewing over the conclusion of the opening match is intensified at the sight of a smirking Christian Savior standing backstage with a cell phone pressed to his ear. He seems to be having great amusement in his secret conversation while stroking the gold plate of the X-Class title that is draped over his shoulder. The grin on his face widens while he continues to march back and forth in the backstage corridor, listening to the voice on the other end that must be saying something quite to his liking.

Christian: Hahaha, oh yeah, that’s in my price range alright. So your going to be here tonight with the money then?

After hesitating a moment to get his answer the smile on Christian’s face widens and becomes all the more appalling. He nods his head with a minor chuckle, the response was exactly what he wanted to hear.

Savior: Excellent, if you can make good on all your promises then we should have a deal. Just show up at my dressing room when you get here tonight, and make sure you have the money ready. Once I see the cash, and you elaborate a little more on the opportunities your going to open up for my brother and I, then Adam and myself shouldn’t have a problem doing whatever you ask.

Christian!

The smile wavers a bit as Savior turns to stare at his sweaty older brother marching in his direction with Kassie at his side. Riddick and his wife both shoot angry glares in Christian’s direction while he keeps the phone pressed to his ear, lifting a finger into the air to insist that Adam remain quiet for a moment.

Savior: Okay, see you tonight, boss.

The conversation is ended as he hangs up the phone, Riddick unable to control his anger long enough though.

Adam: What the hell were you thinking out there man?

Riddick gestures towards the ring with his open, outstretched palm, Christian following it with his eyes until he simply shrugs his shoulders.

Christian: It looked like you could use some help bro.

Riddick: I didn’t ask for any damn help. I would have kicked out of that spear if I was given the opportunity, but no, you had to stick your nose in business that didn’t involve you.

The anger in Riddick grows as he sees the smile return to Christian’s face. Savior finally chuckles a bit and extends his palm, placing it to Adam’s chest, holding him at bay.

Savior: Relax Adam, just calm down.

Riddick moves Savior’s hand from his chest.

Adam: I don’t want to relax, I don’t want to calm down, I want an explanation!

Savior: And if you’ll give me a chance I’ll give you one. I need you in your best possible shape for later tonight.

The bewilderment on the Renegade’s part only escalates while he glances at his equally as bewildered wife, then back into the eyes of his brother.

Riddick: What’s happening later tonight?

Even mentioning it makes Savior chuckle, greatly amused by the prospect of what’s yet to occur. Adam fails to share in his amusement.

Christian: Everything will be explained soon Adam, just not right here where so many eavesdropping ears can hear us. Come to my dressing room when your ready and I’ll explain everything. Until then, just trust me.

Savior steps around his older brother and slaps him reassuringly on the shoulder in the process, strolling off down the corridor. An incredibly confused Riddick turns to watch his brother mosey on down the corridor.

Kassie: I don’t like this…

Adam: Me neither, the last time Christian asked me to trust him I woke up with my eyebrows shaved off.

Again Riddick turns to watch his brother walk away as the camera zooms in to capture the questioning look on his face.

NO HOLDS BARRED

We cut to backstage, where the IWC's No-Holds-Barred Champion, Jon Rich, is warming up for his title defense against Robin Brooks, to the cheers of the capacity crowd. He's hopping and jogging in place, interspersing it with some squats, while close nearby on a crate is the ULW:R League Championship Belt with white masking tape and "No Holds Barred" written in thick black sharpie over the "League" label. His warm-up is interrupted as two men in team jackets approach him, recognizable as Axl Evermore and MAX, the tag team of Fully Loaded, who will be in action later tonight, to a mixed reaction filled more with cheers than with boos. Evermore is wearing a smirk on his face while MAX grins widely, as a duffel bag is noticeable on MAX's shoulder. Jon squares up immediately, preparing for an ambush, as Evermore tries to calm him down.

Axl Evermore: Whoa whoa WHOA! Take it DOWN a notch, Rich! We're not here to kick your ass, we've got no BEEF with you! No, in fact, we just came here to say that we thought your performance at Born Again was quite STELLAR...despite the disappointing outcome.

MAX: Come on, Axl, I'm not really in the mood to deal with pleasantries, could we just get this over with so we could prepare for OUR match?

Axl cocks an eyebrow towards MAX's direction and sighs.

Jon Rich: Mind telling me just WHAT you two are here for?

Evermore: Well...I'm sure you saw last week how I TOTALLY caught Hurse by surprise, right?

Rich: Yeah...gotta say, I had a good laugh at that. So?

Axl snaps his fingers towards MAX, who unzips the duffel and gives it to Evermore, who reaches into it.

Axl: Well, you know how you've been carrying around your old ULW title with IWC taped over it?

He produces the brand new IWC No Holds Barred Title belt and extends his hand towards Rich, who eyes it suspiciously.

Jon: You're not gonna clonk me between the eyes with it or anything, right?

Evermore: Now now, Jonny...why on Earth would I do a thing like THAT?

After saying that with a completely straight face, he grins widely and gestures with the belt in his hand to Rich. After some hesistation, he takes the belt, puts it over his shoulder, and then takes the ULW:R League Title and puts it over his other shoulder, comparing the two, when he cracks a smile of satisfaction. The crowd is just EATING IT UP!!

Rich: I gotta say...this belt looks pretty nice! I mean, it's no World Heavyweight Title, but...

Evermore: You're welcome. You can just hand your old belt over to the GM and he'll do whatever he does with it...

Jon: ...Right. So how come you didn't hand CHAPEL his Cartel Title yourself like you did with myself and HURSE?

The mention of Chapel whips the crowd up into a frenzy which quickly turns to fury at the mention of Hurse. Meanwhile, Evermore shrugs in response.

Axl: *PFFT* Would YOU?

Rich: You make a good point. ...Thanks for the belt, man. Hey, maybe we'll see each other in the ring soon...even for this title right here.

MAX interrupts Evermore as he's about to respond.

MAX: You can COUNT on it. But in the meantime, you make sure to give that traitorous BUG Robin Brooks a good SMASHING in the ring before I take what will soon be MY X-Class Title away from her.

MAX heads off to get ready for the tag match as Evermore lingers behind.

Rich: What's with HIM?

Axl: He's just angry that the superhero thing didn't go over like he intended. You know...we've seen just how much you HATE the Alpha Generation...

Jon: Yeah, I do. They keep making my wrestling life a living HELL!

Evermore: Good to know. I'll DEFINITELY keep that in mind for the near future...

Rich: ...Are you suggesting I...TEAM UP with you two?

The crowd roars at the possibility of Jon Rich teaming up with Fully Loaded, though there are still, understandably, quite a few boos at the idea thanks to the residual heel heat MAX had from the previous weeks. Evermore, meanwhile, is rather coy about the prospect, even though he's made it quite clear in recent promos (however roundabout his manner of delivery) that he'd welcome the opportunity.

Axl: Maybe...maybe not...but keep in mind that even though MAX and I are taking on Chapel and Psycho, we're still also taking on ADAMS and TOO MAGNIFICENT, and a win against THEM would solidify you and us as being on the same side.

Evermore walks off with a smirk to catch up with MAX as Rich looks in his direction, a little bit consterned. After a short pause, he looks at the ULW:R League Title, then at the IWC No Holds Barred Title, then sighs.

Rich: MAN, those two are pretty nutty...but they DO make a good point...

Before he can do anything else, he's surprised to hear Evermore call out from down the hall...

Evermore: GUARANTEEEEEED!!!

He sighs, then shakes his head and puts the belts down on the crate side-by-side as he continues his warm-up. The camera pans over to them and zooms in, as we fade to black. Jon Rich defends his brand-new IWC No Holds Barred Title against the X-Class Champion Robin Brooks later tonight in the main event.

CHRIS HUNTER VS. AURORA ROSE VS. ICARUS STRANGE

Brooklyn by Fabulous and Jay Z starts to play over the PA system and leads into a loud mixed reaction from the fans at the sight of Chris Hunter marching through the curtains onto the stage. He has an arrogant swagger to him while he turns in a circle, staring out over the screaming fans with a slight smirk on his face. After a moment of overlooking the fans with white strobes going off behind his back and his name shown in a diamond studded like manner on the big screen. Chris then heads towards the ring bobbing his head and still grinning at the reaction he’s receiving from the fans.

Mayne: And here is quite possibly the coolest guy I’ve ever seen, much cooler than Chevy Chase, if such a thing is possible.

Douglas: Yeah, I think there are people much cooler than late 80’s early 90’s comedians, although I’m not sure Chris Hunter is one of those people.

Billy: Are you kidding me? Chris is straight up jiggy.

Dan: Don’t attempt to speak Ebonics, please.

Chris makes his way around the ring still bobbing his head with pouting lips it almost appears before he removes his fine jewelry and begins to hand it towards Billy and Dan seated behind the announce table. Billy looks really eager to take hold of it while Chris leans in to speak into his ear.

Chris: Watch my shit Billy boy, and don’t let that guy touch my bling, he doesn’t look very trustworthy.

Hunter motions towards an entirely confused Dan Douglas, who shrugs his shoulders with his palms extended outward, not sure why he’s so untrustworthy. A plotting Chris points to his eyes with spread fingers then uses them to direct attention to Dan, insinuating that he’ll be watching him closely while Billy tries to see if Hunter’s watch will fit around his wrist.

Mayne: Don’t worry Chris, I’ll make sure butterfingers Dan doesn’t touch your expensive bling bling. Dan can’t be trusted with anything, he’d lose his own daughter.

Douglas: I don’t have a daughter.

Billy: See, he did it already.

The crowd is still booing while Chris enters the ring and extends his arms out to his sides, spinning around and nodding his head all throughout the process. He slaps his chest with both hands and extends them out to his sides before turning, motioning towards Dan and Billy at ringside. The opening chords of Mozart's 'night on bald mountain' rips through the audience sending shivers down their spines. As the infamous notes blast, a pendulum is raised from the middle of the ramp. Kneeling on that with his back to the audience is the man known as Icarus Strange. He wears a red pointed cape and looks up to the titantron. As the pyro goes off, Strange gets to his feet and flares his cape so that he now stands facing the audience. He walks down the ramp and slides into the ring as the crowd cheers. He gets to his knees and raises his hands to the sky as gold shower pyro rains upon him. Chris stares at him and the pyro then glances to the outside of the ring.

Hunter: How come I didn’t get pyro?

Mayne: The maestro making his IWC deb….

Douglas: That’s not the short lived terrible WCW gimmick wrestler, Billy, he doesn’t even look anything like him, just because he’s wearing a cape doesn’t mean there’s any real similarity between either man. Icarus doesn’t even have a perm. We should be fortunate enough to have this young man on the roster trying to earn himself a secured spot, and some much needed job security, much like Chris Hunter.

Mayne: Chris should get an automatic roster spot because of all this nifty bling. Icarus too, because his cape is cool and he doesn’t have a blond afro.

As both Strange and Hunter glare at one another “Why Do You Love Me” by Garbage explodes over the PA system and leads to a huge collection of cheers from the fans. They wait anxiously for the sight of Aurora Rose, who has obviously been experiencing a tough couple of weeks, given what happened to her on the last show and all with Evans being revealed as her deranged stalker. That’s when the fans become confused as Aurora staggers through the curtains, rubbing at her wrists in terrible pain. She grimaces while looking at the red marks left on her skin, lasting blemishes resulting from prolonged use of handcuffs. In anger she turns to glance over his shoulder at the curtains, glaring through them at something then making her way towards the ring in almost a trance like state. It appears that she hasn’t slept in quite sometime while trekking towards the ring and rolling in under the ropes, not doing any of her usual entrance movements to get the fans behind her.

Mayne: Well this is surprising, I almost didn’t expect Aurora to come out here with being held captive by Evans all week, which I’m sure is something she greatly enjoyed.

Douglas: Would you stop living vicariously through Aurora? It almost looks like she was just released and shoved out here by that same demented son of a bitch who’s been holding her prisoner since the last Riot!, how can she be expected to compete in this state of mind?

Billy: If she does compete, I mean, I’d be thinking it be a little more smarter for her to try and flee while she’s got the chance.

As the bell rings Chris Hunter immediately slides through the ropes to the outside of the ring, leaving Icarus and Aurora inside. Strange was stepping right towards Chris, pointing over the cables directly at him, shouting some threatening words. As soon as he does though, Aurora rushes up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. She drops over backwards, dragging Icarus down with her into a reverse roll. Instead of being able to roll over and sit on the back of his legs though, Icarus is able to force himself over backwards onto his knees with Rose laid out on the canvas. He steps to her side and lifts his elbow, dropping it at Aurora’s chest only for her to roll out of the way. The point of his elbow hits the canvas before Aurora gets up behind him, jumping over his back then rushing into the canvas in front of her seated opponent. Strange thinks quickly by twisting his body then rolling towards her, causing Aurora to have to jump over him and continue across the ring. Chris watches all this with a smirk on his shaking head from the outside of the ring while Strange gets to his feet on the canvas, catching Rose as she comes back in. He lifts her up for a hip toss only for Aurora to turn in mid-air, placing her feet to his gut and interlocking her hands around the back of his head, dropping in reverse with a monkey flip. Icarus flips over in reverse but lands on his feet, charging into the ropes behind the laid out Aurora who spots this and twists her side towards him. As Strange comes back in at his laid out opponent he’s now forced to cartwheel over her right onto his feet, Aurora starting to stand up quickly to get her hands on him. Before she can though, Hunter enters the ring and grabs her by the back of the head and belt line, charging her forward and using her head as a human battering ram right into Icarus’ gut. Strange is launched into the air, sent crashing into the ring back first then rolling over as Aurora turns to face Chris only to be kicked hard to the side of the face. The boot knocks her right off of her feet and onto her back, Hunter using his weight and size advantage to his benefit.

Icarus remains on his hands and knees, trying to stand up while holding his ribs before Chris comes barging in at him only to be caught with a sudden Japanese armdrag. Strange hooks his arm and flips over backwards into almost a standing moonsault in order to take Chris over crashing onto his spine. The fans are stunned though as after the Japanese armdrag, Icarus just flips right over onto his feet, standing up at Chris’ side, who is starting to get to his posterior in a seated position. As soon as he does he’s met with a blistering kick right to the side of the face. The impact knocks him down onto his spine while Icarus spins in a circle to much fanfare for his last acrobatic move, not even spotting a somewhat dazed Aurora stepping up behind him. She grabs his shoulders then jumps into the air, sitting herself on top of them. Before she can hit anything though, Icarus places his hands to her upper thighs, shoving her over his head and causing her to land on her feet in front of him. She then rolls over backwards and lifts her legs into the air, wrapping them around Icarus’ neck. Strange extends his hands, placing them to her gut and pushing her up into the air, keeping her from hitting the leg scissors she was going for as she now stares down at the canvas. But now she twists her body while the upper half is held up, reaching out and catching one of his arms while swinging around Icarus’ body several times, making two rotations until she finally interlocks her thighs about his neck and leg scissors him over onto the canvas. Icarus flips over hitting the ring with force and causing the fans to get to their feet, going nuts over some of this great agile, X-Class like style action.

Douglas: What an acrobatic, agile move by Aurora Rose, twisting around Chris’ body twice before snapping off with a head scissors. This is just the type of action you’ll see here in the IWC, with some great X-Class high flying action.

Mayne: Sure Icarus and Rose are agile, but can they style and profile only the way Chris Hunter can? I don’t think so. Just look at Aurora’s attire, can you say yuck?

The fans are still going nuts while Aurora gets to her feet and spins around in a circle to face Chris who has risen and is now rushing in with a huge lariat. Aurora rolls under his arm and as soon as she gets to her feet springs into the air, landing on the second rope. She springs off it then turns towards Chris, catching him around the neck and dragging him around into a huge tornado DDT. Hunter’s head bashes off the canvas with force then his body flops over onto his back across the canvas, Aurora getting to her feet and jumping over Chris’ body. She goes into a quick headstand, the back of her legs hitting the ropes and sending her off into a backwards ricochet where she lands on her feet once again but the momentum carries her over into a huge twisting flip. The crowd cheers as she connects with a corkscrew standing moonsault right on top of Hunter, who begins to go into convulsions as a result.

Douglas: Some high flying moves from Aurora, if she was distracted with this stuff going on with Pat, she’s certainly not showing it in the ring tonight.

Aurora, realizing that she may have the victory already, starts towards the turnbuckle, slipping through the cables onto the apron then starting up the corner. She reaches the top rope before Icarus gets to his feet and jumps over Hunter, running at the turnbuckle Rose is standing on. He steps up the cables running into the corner, and then when he reaches the top one he springs off, turning his back towards Rose while reaching out, crossing his ankles around the back of her head and pulling her off the turnbuckle with a huge leg scissors. Aurora is flipped over, causing her to crash into the ring across her back while Icarus rolls to his feet in the ring. He extends his arms out to his sides, forcing the fans to give him another loud reaction, not even noticing Hunter getting to a knee in front of him. That’s when Chris stands and unleashes a roar as he charges at a momentarily distracted Icarus, delivering a huge pump kick directly to his face.

The shot sends Icarus flipping over the cables backwards, slamming hard into the outside mats while Chris hits the ropes side first. He gyrates against the cables for a second then spits over them at Icarus, who is already trying to reach his feet. Aurora has risen to her elbows and knees, holding the back of her neck before she’s booted to the skull, knocking her over onto her spine. Chris takes hold of her wrist and pulls on it to drag her over onto her knees. He now yanks on the wrist to cause her to stand up before pulling her forward into a vicious short arm clothesline. Aurora crashes into the canvas yet Chris still has hold of her wrist, pulling on it to force her back to her feet only to drag her into another short arm clothesline. Aurora ducks this one though and hooks the arm that was thrown at her throat, reaching across his back with her other legs. She has him in a crucifix but Hunter won’t go over, using his brute strength to force her up onto his shoulders into a fireman’s carry now. With a loud grunt Chris pushes her over and drops to a single knee, lifting the other one into the air for a rib breaker, but Rose adjusts herself in mid-air, landing on her feet in front of him. The Princess of Punk then charges forward, stepping onto the knee of Hunter and using it as a brace to twist herself around into a hard enzugari to the back of her opponent’s head.

A very dazed expression befalls Chris’ face, wavering back and forth, trying to try keep himself up right before Aurora gets to her feet and steps in again. Once more she steps off his knee and twists her body around so that her back is facing him, extending her legs to wrap them around Hunter’s neck. She bends her head and drops into a forward roll, flipping Hunter off his knee into a short leg scissors. The acrobatic move causes Chris to roll forward across the canvas right onto his feet, backing into the ropes and bouncing off them. They launch him forward at Aurora who gets to her feet only to charge forward and jump into the air, landing on his shoulders for a normal hurricarana now. Chris counters however, keeping her seated on his shoulders and turning towards the ropes, where Icarus is fighting his way to his feet on the outside. Running quickly, Chris throws Aurora over the ropes with a powerbomb only for Rose to flip over backwards into a moonsault in mid-air to connect with the should of Icarus, knocking them both down to the mats. Everyone puts their hands together at the sight of this fast paced, X-Class style action as Aurora tries to force herself to her feet on the outside of the ring, Hunter rolling out to meet her with a kick to the gut. Aurora is bent forward and immediately placed in a front chancery before Chris hoists her into the air, turning then dragging her down to the thin outside mats with a brainbuster. Aurora sits up, holding her skull as a result of that vicious impact.

Mayne: Oh, look at Chris go, this man is quickly becoming my new hero, first he powerbombs Aurora onto Icarus, now he just gave Rose the brainbuster to the outside mats.

Douglas: You always had a poor choice in personal heroes Billy. A very poor choice, but I will admit those last few moves were quite hard hitting from Hunter, and quite acrobatic as well.

Icarus is already forcing himself to his feet before he’s grabbed by the back of the head and turned towards the ring, being rolled in under the ropes. Icarus ends up on his elbows and knees, trying to stand up while Chris slides in at his side then jumps over his back. He wraps his arms around Aurora’s thigh as well as neck, pulling her over into an Oklahoma roll.

Icarus gets his shoulder off the canvas, rolling over backwards onto his knees while Hunter stands up in front of him. He takes him by the throat and reaches out with his other hand, placing it to his gut before using all his strength to hoist Icarus up off the canvas into the air with a gorilla press. Before Strange can fight it he’s dropped onto Chris’ shoulders then pulled over sideways into a huge death valley driver. Hunter drops down beside him as Icarus is slammed hard into the canvas, Hunter rolling towards him into a hook of the leg.

Again Strange gets his shoulder off the canvas in the nick of time. He turns onto his elbows and knees, trying to stand up before an angry Hunter gets to his feet at his side. He reaches down, wrapping his arms around his waist then hoisting him up into the air before transitioning him to hang upside down, attempting to get him up for the cradle piledriver. Before he can hit it though, Strange reaches up with his legs, wrapping them around Chris’ neck then sitting up onto his shoulders. He then leans forward and slides over Chris’ back, before slipping down his spine and wrapping his arms around his waist. He pulls Chris over into a sunset flip.

Hunter kicks out, dropping over sideways while Strange rolls to his feet with quickness. Hunter starts to stand up, bent forward before Icarus charges in, jumping over his head and wrapping his arms around his neck before he pulls him over into a huge flip over swinging neckbreaker. Hunter’s head hits the ring, sitting up and shouting in pain. Icarus turns towards Hunter and crawls into the cover on him once again, hooking his leg.

Chris bridges himself up out of the pinning predicament and then turns to face the Strange who is still stuck in a crawling position. Hunter charges forward at him for a big boot to his face only for Icarus to stand up and side step him, getting behind him and then pulling him down with a back slide into the pin.

Hunter rolls over in reverse, getting out of the pinning position onto his knees in front of Icarus. He places him in a front chancery then reaches out, hooking Strange’s leg, pulling him up to one foot as he prepares for the fisherman suplex. Chris hoists Icarus into the air only for Strange to suddenly flip over out of the suplex predicament and land on Hunter’s shoulders, snapping over in reverse into a huge pinning hurricarana. He sits on Chris’ chest while holding down the back of his legs.

Somehow Chris gets his shoulder up again, launching Icarus forward onto all fours on the canvas.

Douglas: What a series of pinning combinations by Icarus Strange, each one bringing him slightly closer to a huge pinfall victory.

Mayne: Yet Chris Hunter is hanging in there against all the odds, no matter how great, no matter how strong, no matter how flippidy they might be, he’s not an original founding member of the Alpha Generation for nothing.

Icarus cannot believe that he’s failed to get the pinfall thus far while he rises to his feet and turns straight towards Chris, who is trying to fight his way to a standing base still holding the back of his neck. Strange comes charging at him when Chris stands, shooting his arm across his chest and lifting him into the air. With brute strength Hunter hoists Icarus up high then delivers a modified urange slam that drives him down back first into the canvas. A groan comes from Strange, who turns away from Hunter on his side, arching his back in a tremendous amount of pain, but Hunter refuses to allow him a second to breathe. He stomps him to the back of the head while staggering around and then spots Aurora trying desperately to pull herself up onto the apron after being hit with that brainbuster on the outside mats. Chris steps towards her and delivers a kick through the ropes into her face though, knocking her off the apron and sending her crashing to her back on the outside mats.

A very upset Hunter turns towards Icarus who is trying his best to force himself to his feet before he’s grabbed by the throat. Chris whips Icarus with all his strength into one of the turnbuckles, Strange spinning around and hitting the corner hard spine first. A frustrated Hunter then unleashes a roar before charging across the ring straight at the prone Icarus, turning his body as he jumps at his mid-section. He’s attempting to splash ribs first into the gut of Icarus who suddenly pulls himself up onto the second rope and then jumps over his opponent when he comes flying in. This causes Hunter to lodge himself between the top and middle rope, spread across both sets of cables with his ribs pressed to the exposed steel turnbuckle post. The crowd groans the sight of this while a tired Aurora rolls into the ring, Icarus unaware though as he comes rushing in at Hunter, sticking his hands out. He catches the top rope and kicks his legs up high into the air, almost doing a head stand on the turnbuckle then swinging his feet down, bringing then down onto the upper back of Hunter, double stomping him but then remaining standing on his back. He stands up straight then gives the fans a salute to a huge reaction before he can almost feel Aurora charging at him from behind. Showing great agility he moonsaults off the back of Chris Hunter, right over Aurora and lands behind her. Rose spins to face him when Icarus comes barging in only for Aurora to side step him then deliver a sweeping kick to the back of his legs. This causes Icarus to land on his back and launch his feet upward into the ribs of Hunter with a dropkick of sorts thanks to the strike by Rose.

The crowd puts their hands together over the impact before Aurora grabs Icarus by the ankle, lifting up on it and causing him to roll over in reverse onto his feet then wrapping her arm around his neck.. She charges forward, stepping up off one rope, then off the back of Hunter, then onto the top rope before pushing herself off and swinging around into a huge acid drop. Icarus’ head crashes off the shoulder of Aurora, flipping over onto her spine with the fans going absolutely nuts over what they just witnessed.

Douglas: Ohhhh!! What a move by Aurora on Icarus Strange! An assisted acid drop off the spine of Chris Hunter and the turnbuckle.

Mayne: This woman isn’t even suppose to have a functioning brain at this point after being dropped on her head at ringside, so how is she able to pull off something like that? Is it her time of the month or something?

Dan: Rather Aurora is distracted by her situation with Evans or not, she’s certainly not showing it with this gutsy performance and these agile moves.

A tired Aurora falls sideways into the cover on Icarus.

Chris climbs off the turnbuckle and dives into a double axehandle to the back of Aurora’s head. It connects, knocking her off the pinfall attempt and causing her to roll across the ring clutching at her noggin. Chris grabs hold of Icarus’ hair, dragging him over onto his knees then gorilla pressing him into the air. Icarus is held up high before he reaches down, elbowing Hunter to the side of the face with great force, he then digs his finger nails into Chris’ eyes, raking at them. Hunter releases Icarus who turns and lands on his shoulders, seated behind his head before falling back into a reverse hurricarana. Chris is taken off of his feet and flipped over in reverse, the top of his head crashing into the canvas while Icarus rolls across the ring and under the ropes onto the apron. He begins to utilize the cables to stand up on the apron while Chris rises to his feet, throwing fists wildly when Aurora steps to his side, wrapping her arm around his neck. She has him in a side headlock before charging at the ropes, dragging him along then jumping into the air, placing both her boots to Icarus’ back, shoving him off the apron. Aurora now turns and pulls Hunter down face first into the canvas with the Sinful Desires (Stratusfaction.) Chris’ skull bashes hard off the ring as he now flops over onto his back, Aurora turning and hooking his leg to a huge reaction from the fans.

Aurora has done it, she’s just pinned Chris Hunter to great approval from the viewing audience.

Mayne: Aurora won? That never happens!

Douglas: Rose has just pinned Chris Hunter with the Sinful Desires in what was a quick, high risk, agile triple threat display here this evening.

Billy: You know what, Chris doesn’t deserve to get his bling back, I’m keeping it. Look, I’m all thugged out.

Dan: Mayne, your about as thug as Marky Mark and the rest of the Funky Fresh Boys.

The crowd is still cheering while Aurora rises to her knees in a very exasperated state, trying to get her head straight. She is still feeling the effects of this very hard hitting match, just starting to rise to truly experience the sweet taste of victory when she’s clubbed from behind with a hard forearm strike. The fans react with disdain at the sight of Pat Evans attacking Aurora out of nowhere, in her prone, tired state.

Mayne: Haha, thank you Evans, I don’t think I could have tolerated putting up with Aurora celebrating a victory.

Douglas: Dammit, Pat Evans, the man who has been stalking Aurora for weeks attacks her and ruins her moment yet again. What is wrong with this man?

Pat kneels down beside Aurora and pulls her arms behind her back, removing as set of cuffs. She regains consciousness long enough to try and fight free but can’t do so in her weakened condition, Pat slapping a thing of handcuffs around her wrists then taking hold of her forearm. Rose tries to get free but Pat won’t let her go, twisting at her arm and forcing her up to her feet before dragging her towards the ropes. Evans rolls under the cables and then reaches into the ring, taking Rose by the ankle, tripping her then pulling her under the ropes as well before tossing her over his shoulder and moving up the ramp.

Douglas: Pat Evans taking Aurora Rose God only knows where. What is wrong with this individual?

Mayne: I kind of have to ask myself the same question seeing as he’s obsessed with Aurora.

Aurora is still struggling valiantly but in vain as Pat takes her up the ramp and towards the back. She’s at his mercy while Icarus leans against the apron, watching on with confused eyes yet a smile on his face.

BEST BEHAVIOR

A cab is shown pulling up backstage in the enclosed parking facility with the crowd watching on in confusion, becoming intrigued by this late arrival. The light glistens from the bright yellow surface of the taxi which careens to a slow stop just a few feet away from the double doors that lead to the entrance of the Manhattan Center. As the car’s tires come to a slow halt the back door opens and Orlando Cruze emerges with a bag thrown over his shoulder. The fans react with a loud response at the sight of the Icon arriving in the building tonight, many of them having begun to think he wouldn’t be here considering all the legal ramifications. There he stands though, in his street gear, a paranoid expression on his face as he glances about his surroundings, making sure no vehicle or person is laying in wait for him like they were for Nathan just last week. A sigh of relief escapes his lungs before he reaches into his pocket and removes money, turning to pay the cabbie when he comes face to face with Susie Moore, who materialized out of nowhere. Cruze jumps and covers his heart, Susie appearing almost out of thin air with a microphone clutched in one hand and a thing of flowers in the other. Orlando’s eyes quickly dart back and forth in confusion.

Orlando: Where the hell did you just come from?

Susie shrugs her shoulders before realizing an old discard candy wrapper is on her shoulder, brushing it off with the back of her fingers.

Susie: I was hiding in a dumpster.

Orlando scratches at the back of his head at a lack for words. He’s unable to figure Susie out and it gives himself an aneurism even trying.

Cruze: I’m not even going to bother to ask why. What are you doing here, were you waiting for me or something?

Trying to move as quickly as possible, Cruze hands off his money to the driver who pulls away, multi-tasking as to get into the building and prepare for his match a little more expediently. Susie bats her eyes, unsure of how to respond before smiling and nodding.

Moore: Yeah, I guess that sounds right. I mean, I was told to tell you something when you got here.

Orlando pauses in mid-step right in the middle of marching towards the building, shooting a glare at Susie who has stopped right along beside him. The two stare at one another for several minutes before Cruze rolls his eyes and stomps his foot.

Orlando: Aaaaaannnnddd?

Susie: Oh, you want to hear it now?

Cruze: YES!

The outburst causes her to jump back out of fear for her own life, but Orlando tries to calm himself down, taking deep breaths to relax himself.

Moore: Well there’s no need to be a big old grumpy pants. Do you want me to come out and tell you, or would you rather me give you the message through interpretive dance?

Orlando: Just give me the damn message please? I’m in no mood for you hijinks, and I feel like the longer we talk the more braincells I kill.

Moore: Fine then, but I practicing my dance all night long. Anyway, that big bald guy with the smelly armpits….

Orlando: AWOL?

Susie puts her finger to her chin then just shrugs her shoulders.

Susie: Yeah, I guess that’s what his name is, I’ve just been calling him Mr. President this whole time.

Cruze: Susie, the message!

Susie: Oh yeah, AWOL told me to tell you that since your being connected to that whole hit and run fiasco last week with Nathan, that in order for you to compete here tonight, your to be on your best behavior. Apparently AWOL would get in hot water for allowing a guy who tried to run over someone to compete with no restrictions tonight. So your to be on your best behavior, which means that your not to interfere in anything that happens in the ring, with the exception of things that involve your match. If you interfere, AWOL has promised to suspend you.

Orlando glares at Susie for several moments, giving her a very intense glare while he takes deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. The stare seems to bother Moore who reaches up, placing her fingers on her forehead.

Moore: What? Do I have a pimple?

In agitation Cruze slides his palm down his exacerbated face.

Cruze: Well you tell AWOL I’ll be on my best behavior, but nothing is going to stop me from getting to the bottom of what happened last week. Now where’s Nathan’s dressing room, and what’s with the flowers?

Speculation is abounding within Cruze’s eyes, but almost regrets asking the question as he stares at the flowers and the blankness in Susie’s face. It takes a moment for the questions to register before she puts up a blushing smile, holding the flowers up.

Moore: Oh, I don’t know where Nathan is, but I do know these flowers were left for you.

She gladly bestows the flowers onto Cruze who instead of letting them fall to the floor permits Moore to drop them into his arms. Cruze twists and turns the flowers, realizing they’re rather expensive bright red roses. His confusion continues to grow until he finds the note left on them, raising it into the air and opening the card up to read it out loud. Susie’s interest seems to be particularly peaked.

Orlando: Dear Orlando, I hope you’ve enjoyed your week, don’t let these roses die like you’ve allowed so many things to do in your past. Tonight, your question will be answered, and your past will be reborn. Sincerely, S.K…..

Orlando smirks slightly while looking up from the flowers, dropping them and balling the card up in his hand before he tosses it over his shoulder. The Icon now marches straight towards the entrance, not allowing himself to be worried while Susie watches on with wide, somewhat considerate eyes. As he marches off she finally shrugs her shoulders and bends down, grabbing a rose off the concrete then tucking it behind her ear.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

DO YOUR JOB

A loud mixed response reverberates throughout the backstage corridors as the camera opens to find none other than AWOL and Psycho located in the GM’s office. Much angst seems to be directed upon Psycho, who has his arms crossed over his sternum and a disinterested expression on his face while AWOL sits on the corner of his desk, speaking with him. No, not speaking, he actually appears to be offering him an equally as apathetic lecture.

AWOL: So I’m at a loss for words really for just how miserably you’ve failed me, Psycho. I don’t think words accurately could describe just how much you let me down…

Psycho: You know what AWOL, I could give two shits if your disappointed in me or not, especially considering you’re the hardest person on the planet to please, and I’m not out to make people happy.

AWOL’s eyes widen and a condescending smirk comes to one side of his face as he leans back, listening to this loud outburst.

Psycho: But I thought what I did to Robin last week would give you some slight satisfaction.

Just as quickly as it appears the smile fades from AWOL’s face, even if Psycho seems to take great joy in the thoughts of what he did to the X-Class Champion just last week.

AWOL: You would think that wouldn’t you? But once again, you’re just as mistaken as your mother was when she decided against getting the abortion; because somehow you were even capable of botching that assault last week?

The anger in Psycho’s face is overtaken with bewilderment, retracting his head slowly and becoming very doubtful.

Psycho: And how did I fail you again last week? Did you not see Robin’s blood oozing from her broken skull, did you not see the crimson on the tips of my fingers, or the claret blocking the glistening of her gold?

AWOL: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I saw all of that, big fucking deal.

AWOL rolls his eyes and waves Psycho off before digging his hands under his armpits.

AWOL: But if you beat her so viciously, if you spilt her blood to such gory amounts, if you really finished the job on her and got your retribution, why is she still here tonight? Why is she ready to compete against Jon Rich? Huh, answer me that Mr. Sadistic One?

Psycho is just left with a sporadic blinking of his eyes, not sure of how to respond. He now begins to tremble at the thought of Robin bouncing back so quickly after the viciousness he inflicted on her just a few short weeks ago. His upper teeth dig into his lower lip to the point that blood is almost drawn from beneath the surface of his skin, it causes his shaking to become all that more noticeable and for a wide grin to come to AWOL’s face.

AWOL: Oh, did that strike a nerve Psycho? Does the thought of the woman who cost us the match at Born Again still walking around upright after you got done with her get you a little upset? Poor Psycho, incapable of accepting his failures, and hahahaha, there’s just so many of them.

AWOL’s comments are enough to make Psycho snap once more as he steps towards the General Manager who immediately gets to his feet. Both men stare coldly into one another’s eyes, almost chillingly in fact, breathing hard with great intensity and deep brewing hatred.

AWOL: Are you pissed you incompetent son of a bitch!?! Are you good and mad, are you as disappointed in yourself as I am?

Psycho is almost too angry to form words, his skin trembling while turning different shades of red.

AWOL: Good. Believe it or not, I’m a man of second chances. For once I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you were a little too hasty on the last Riot! when I graciously held security at bay long enough for you to brutalize that annoying little bitch, Robin. Perhaps you were just a bit sloppy, so I’m going to give you one more try. That’s right, I’m gracious enough to allow you one more shot at taking out Robin Brooks, at making her suffer worse than any emotional pain than can be thrust on her. As long as you’re on your best behavior tonight, at IWC Breathless, I’m booking Psycho vs. Robin Brooks, and this time you better not let me down.

Psycho is breathing heavily, his eyes burning brightly with hatred and animosity. He seems to want to take his rage out on AWOL, but instead of lashing out at him he backs away slowly, breathing heavily, lowering his head and contemplating exactly what he’ll do to Robin at Breathless. Demented desires race through his head and cause a grin to begin fighting its way to his scarred, deformed features, AWOL just standing back gazing at Psycho disgustingly.

AWOL: You like that, don’t you Psycho? Doesn’t it just delight you thinking about messing up her pretty little face, breaking her? She betrayed you Psycho, just remember that, and hopefully you won’t fail me a second time. Now get out, I’m tired of breathing the same air as you.

Psycho rubs at his jaw, still smirking slightly, almost delighted by the thought of facing the Black Widow one on one at Breathless. As he turns to leave his mind gets sidetracked though, glancing up and spotting a face that brings him great satisfaction as Chapel storms into the office. Just as AWOL was making his way around the desk, Chapel steps towards him, grabbing hold of the wooden object, lifting up on it a violent spurt of outrage. AWOL acts taken aback while the Cartel Champion stands before him with his fists bashing into the wooden top of the table, veins protruding through his reddened flesh. Psycho now lingers behind to watch what is going on between his tag team partner Chapel, and the man he still holds in great respect, AWOL.

AWOL: Did someone not have sugar in their coffee this morning?

Chapel: No fucking games AWOL! I’m not here to play around with you anymore!

AWOL: Good, chatting with you has gotten almost as boring as beating you.

The GM glances at his watch and cringes slightly.

AWOL: Can you get on with why your outraged this week, I kind of got something important that needs to be done.

Chapel is almost too angered to interpret what outrages him so, his fingers clawing into the wooden surface of the desk, scratching it with his nails. All the while the Cartel Champion doesn’t take his fearsome eyes from the face of the General Manager.

Chapel: Well, I wouldn’t be outraged if you actually gave a damn about doing your job. How can you once again book me in a completely irrelevant clusterfuck, with a teammate who has still yet to prove himself, when I’m the number one contender. Where’s my World Heavyweight title shot? I don’t want Axl Evermore, I want Hurse, and I want him tonight!

The side of the War Angel’s fist slams against the table, shaking it to its very core while AWOL watches on with amusement.

AWOL: Well now, aren’t we feisty tonight?

AWOL stops smiling and becomes serious, putting his knuckles to the desk, leaning forward to stare straight into Chapel’s eyes.

AWOL: Listen, I’m sick of you bitching and complaining every single week Chapel about this and that. Your no better than any piece of shit that has been fed to me in that ring over the countless years, your not greater than any waste of space that enters the squared circle tonight, your just as irrelevant as everyone else in that lockeroom. So please, stop acting like you have the authority to boss me around, to demand things of me. You’ve got a match to compete in tonight, and if you don’t like it I’ll have no problem stripping you of your World Heavyweight title shot, which will take place at Breathless if you can be good little psychopath.

AWOL stands up and grabs his fine jacket off the back of his chair, throwing it over his arms, putting it on while Chapel continues to lean knuckles first against the desk. He stares down at it, not sure how to respond, just trembling with anger. As AWOL fixes his collar he glances at Chapel and grins slightly.

AWOL: But after your finished with your match tonight, there’s certainly nothing I can to stop you from getting your hands on Hurse, or anyone else amongst the ranks of the Alpha Generation. SO feel free to have a little fun, even if you don’t deserve it.

AWOL steps around his desk, making his way out of the office while Chapel is left there, continuing to lean knuckles first against the desk. He’s engrossed in deep, deep comprehension, thinking about what he’ll do this evening before a hand is slapped over his shoulder. Unlike what he’d normally do, which would be ripping someone’s head off for putting their hands on him, he turns his head slowly to stare into the smiling, deranged face of Psycho.

Psycho: What do you say we go picture AWOL’s head on a few of our opponents tonight?

Chapel is about to respond furiously but ceases abruptly, a smirk coming to his face as he stands upright.

Chapel: Hmmm, you know what? That actually sounds kinda fun.

With that Chapel and Psycho turn, vacating the General Manager’s officer.

NOBU-KUN VS. THE ICE-MAN

Douglas: Some unusual interaction between former teammates at Born Again.

Mayne: Why must these guys think we’re amused by their banter? Just shut up and wrestle already, like the guy I’m really looking forward to seeing here tonight, the Ice-Man.

Dan: Indeed, we’ve got a lot of conflicting information about this young MMA grappler, who has done a lot of damage on the MMA scene. I don’t for the life of me quite understand why he’s being brought here to the IWC though.

The lights fall low with a sharp descent, catching the multitude of fans completely off-guard, evidenced by the low murmurs and anxious voices that are heard echoing throughout the building. Distantly, over the speakers, the sound of an odd horn heralds the sudden fall of thousands, upon thousands of pale white flakes, almost like drifting snow, as the air inside the arena chills over with a furious gust from the air system, sending a freezing wind circulating through the dark air. Adding to the cold, frozen atmosphere are pale lights returning, one after another, in colorless shades of icy white and silver. Behind the deep, bellowing sounds of the strange horn, a strange melody begins to play, the same few notes over and over again, as if one some ghostly piano, filling the shadows with the haunting chorus as pale smoke billows upward through the stage, filling the entranceway and obscuring any kind of vision towards the desolate steel platform. Closing in on the mark of thirty seconds, the music finally reached a more intense level, pronounced by a violent strobe of laser light that fired from the back of the passage, cutting through the cloud and the shadows as the rafter lights, themselves, began to flash as well. With the strobes casting frantic, psychotic shadows and reflections throughout the building, a single, silhouetted figure began to step through the cold smoke, coming into full view, before pausing at the very top of the ramp, his gaze centered on the ring far below. Clad in a pale kilt of colorless white, silver and frozen blue, Davis lifted his head just enough to turn his soulless eyes onto the fans, before beginning a silent walk down the ramp.

Douglas: There he is, a man so violent he was barred from Mixed Martial Arts, so naturally he gets a job in IWC. Did we become TNA, hiring convicted felons?

Mayne: I think the whole roster has a criminal record Dan. But this is the best felon money can buy that isn’t named Michael Vick. I can’t wait to see what he does to Nobu-kun.

Dan: I pity poor little Nob….wait a minute!

As soon as the Ice-Man makes it half way down the ramp he’s blindsided from behind with a clubbing blow by none other than SCW’s David Miller. The impact knocks the Ice-Man Michael Davis down onto the ramp, grabbing at the back of his neck before trying to force himself up to his feet with a very demented expression on his face. Miller stands behind him though showing absolutely no fear whatsoever, just grinning from ear to ear.

Douglas: SCW’s David Miller attacking Michael Davis, is he bat shit crazy?

Mayne: He’s got to be Margot Kidder crazy to come into this building and attack this deadly Ice-Man.

As the Ice-Man gets to his feet David steps up behind him and easily takes him over his hip and down to the ramp, stepping over his back, lifting his head up into the air then locking in the Shit Outta’ Luck. He has a particularly nasty looking rear naked choke on a gagging Davis, the MMA star not even able to break out of this submission by a smirking Miller taking great joy in this physical onslaught. The Ice-Man’s face has become blood red before transforming to a shade of purple then finally becoming blue, the crowd covering their mouths as they watch Miller choke this very dangerous Mixed Martial Artist out.

Mayne: Look at this, I can’t believe it, Miller is choking out the Ice-Man. This is not what I expected to happen here tonight at all!

Douglas: David sucking all the wind out of Davis’ sails by assaulting him and now making him pass out it seems. In fact Davis almost looks dead, how can Miller do this to a man with such a brutal reputation?

Mayne: But more importantly, what the fuck is David Miller doing here?

David continues to enjoy himself while twisting at the neck, all the life escaping the face of the Ice-Man. That’s when Driver’s High hits the PA system and the crowd has a mixed reaction at the sight of Nobu-kun stepping through the curtains with a feminine swagger and dressed in a school girl’s costume. He stops abruptly on the stage though and acts taken aback at the sight of Miller choking out what was suppose to be his opponent this evening. He looks absolutely startled before David breaks the submission on the Ice-Man, allowing his almost lifeless body to lay a crumbled mess on the steel. Wearing a very pleasant expression on his face David extends his hand outward in the direction of Nobu-kun, grinning politely.

Mayne: Uh oh, wrong time, wrong place Nobu-kun.

Douglas: David goes from demolishing the Ice-Man to trying and politely shake hands with Nobu-kun? What is up with this guy, and once again, what is he doing here?

Nobu-kun looks tentative but then blushes at David’s good looks and can’t help himself, his hand sliding into Miller’s. The grin from David’s face vanishes now as he squeezes at Nobu-kun’s hand till its almost grounded into powder. The poor feminine little Japanese man begins to crumble before Miller before he gets a kick to the gut, his head being bent forward. His arm is dragged between his legs before he’s hoisted into the air then turned and dropped onto Miller’s knees head first with a pumphandle piledriver. The crowd cringes as the young man’s body is broken by the piledriver, his frame bouncing into the air and landing on the stage beside Miller who sits on the steel with a cold expression on his face.

Douglas: Oh my God, Miller just killed Nobu-kun!

Mayne: You bastard! Wow, that was so late 1990’s. Oh yeah, and Nobu-kun’s dead and all, what a pity.

The almost lifeless bodies of both Nobu-kun and the Ice-Man lie on the ramp while Miller rises to his feet, turning to overlook the fans then bowing down condescendingly with one arm behind his back and the other across his stomach. The crowd’s response is mixed while EMTs and security now run out surrounding him, yet David doesn’t even pay them any attention, turning and making his way back through the curtains.

Douglas: I’m stunned by what just happened here. SCW, or I guess former SCW star David Miller has just destroyed two of our talents.

Mayne: Why did he come here, why did he do this? Why am I obligated to ask so many questions?

The camera pans over David’s path of utter destruction.

THE BLAME GAME

Almost on cue with their angered response, the fans react to the sight of the Alpha Generation stepping through the entrance to the building. All of them are dressed to compete in their upcoming matches, so it’s obvious that they didn’t just arrive at this exact point in time. Instead they all seem to be gathered around another individual who just arrived, none other than Robin Brooks. She has a large bandage present over the laceration in her forehead thanks to the attack at the hands of Psycho while she is seated in a wheelchair, much to her chagrin. The chair is being pushed by a very worried Hurse who towers over her with a less than jovial expression on his face. Desolation marches behind him, rolling his neck and his eyes, obviously not caring to be part of this whole scene, while an irritated Jackson Adams and Too Magnificent do the same. However, Adams appears to be the most dejected of the quartet as an agitated Robin is wheeled along by her caring, considerate, ha, boyfriend the World Heavyweight Champion.

Robin: You know I can walk right? This wheelchair really isn’t necessary.

Brooks says this through a grit of her teeth while pushing the bangs of her hair out of her face.

Hurse: Nonsense, sure this is a huge inconvenience and it kind of nags on my delicate wrists, but we have to make sure you’re completely rested up before your match.

Sighing as she realizes she won’t have any say in the matter she allows herself to be wheeled along by a smiling Hurse.

Adams: You know the last time I got attacked I didn’t get this type of treatment.

Harsh stares are shot in Jackson’s direction, making him become quiet almost immediately.

Hurse: Well, your not hot.

Jackson: Says you.

Outside of their pointless bickering they continue to move Robin towards the Alpha Generation dressing-room much to her dismay. She just leans the side of her face into her fist now with a pouting expression. That’s before Desolation steps to her side, squatting down beside her, and placing his hand over her wrist. His touch is cold, and causes Robin to give him an uneasy glare, staring into the smile on his face which chills her to the very bone.

Desolation: Speaking of your match tonight Robin, I don’t think it needs to be said that your pampering won’t continue should you fail to defeat Rich. Oh no, I think you’ll be in store for something much different if you don’t beat him this evening.

Robin scoots away from Desolation in her cramped chair as much as possible while he continues to beam a very chilling glare in her direction. Hurse bends forward to stare into Desolation’s face, causing the Dark Man’s eyes to turn towards him instead.

Hurse: Um, what are you doing?

Desolation: Oh nothing, just trying to motivate her kind of the same way you do.

Hurse: Ah, that’s fine then.

Robin’s mouth hangs open as she glances over her shoulder into the World Champion’s face.

Robin: Steven, he just threatened me!

Hurse: Don’t be a drama queen Robin.

Very disgruntled now she turns and continues to rest the side of her head against her fist, Desolation putting on a half, condescending smirk in her direction.

Robin: I hope you know I wouldn’t even be in this position if it weren’t for you Steven. If you hadn’t been such a baby and made me shooting star press Psycho at Born Again.

A chuckle comes from the World Champion before his demeanor changes quite abruptly. He now squeezes the handles on the wheelchair and uses them to spin the whole thing around so that Robin can see into his face. He grabs the wheels and pulls them forward in order for them to be eye to eye.

Hurse: Let’s get one thing straight here missy. The only people to blame for what’s happened to you these past few weeks are Killjoy, and yourself.

Although she realizes she’s staring into the eyes of a madman she doesn’t show fear.

Brooks: Me? I’m not the one who’s been playing mind games!

Hurse: Please, don’t act like a fucking martyr. If you hadn’t been hanging around with Killjoy behind my back all this time you wouldn’t have had to prove your love to me again, now would you? If you had been faithful and listened to my orders like a good girlfriend, if you had simply stopped hanging out with Killjoy and doing God only knows what with him behind locked doors, you wouldn’t be in this wheelchair right now. So if your looking for someone to blame, look in a mirror.

Too Mag: I got one right here…

Too Magnificent holds a mirror up to the side of Hurse’s face before the Champion closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

Hurse: I was speaking figurativellllyyy.

Too Magnificent: Oh, sorry.

Hurse spins the wheelchair around again so that a bothered Robin is facing the hallway once more, the Champion’s entire personality undergoing yet another radical alteration. He seems calm and docile once more while pushing the chair along down the hallway.

Hurse: But I guess you can’t be blamed for everything Robin, seeing as Killjoy is the one most responsible for this, taking advantage of you and such. Don’t worry though, he’ll be dealt with should he choose to rear his head here tonight.

Robin: What do you mean?

A worried expression rests on her face while glancing up at a smiling Hurse.

Hurse: Don’t worry sweetheart, a plan is in the works to purge Killjoy from wrestling for good. And sense I’m speaking like a big generic religious zealot, Jackson, Too Mag….

The Champion turns to glare at both Adams and Too Magnificent who have paused in mid-step, who are still getting ready for their matches. That’s when Desolation steps behind Hurse, placing his hands on the Champion’s shoulders and leaning towards the other members of the Alpha Generation.

Desolation: You two know what to do about Chapel and Psycho in your match coming up here next.

A smirk comes to Jackson’s face at the thought of it while Too Magnificent looks on in a somewhat demented manner at the mere mention of Psycho’s name. Desolation suddenly reaches out and grabs the front of Jackson’s shirt, pulling him in close that his hot breath strikes the side of his face.

Desolation: And don’t fail us again, after all, a slap to the face isn’t the worse I could do to you.

Desolation slaps Adams to the cheek lightly before he and Hurse continue to lead Robin towards their dressing room. Both Jackson and Too Magnificent are left standing there with concerned expressions on their faces. Finally Adams breaks the awkward silence.

Jackson: I’m so sick of that needy bitch.

Too Magnificent: Let’s stop worrying about Robin for a second, and let’s concentrate on our match tonight okay?

Adams just continues to gaze forward though in anger while Too Magnificent marches past him towards the ring. Jackson is left standing there with a sour puss contortion of his features, obviously blaming Robin for all his pitfalls as of late.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

DO YOURSELF A FAVOR, GO TO A GOOD WRESTLING SCHOOL

FULLY LOADED VS. THE ALPHA GENERATION VS. CHAPEL & PSYCHO

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

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

The feed fades to the Tron video, and as the lead singer for Drowning Pool screams the opening "1, 2, 3, STEP UP!!" to their song "Step Up", a name is spelled out on the black video background in bold red Sofachrome font letters: Axl Evermore. In between some of the letters, a split-second of classic Evermore-in-action impact clips are shown. It fades to a front view of the stage, with Evermore looking down on one knee, arms outstretched like he just landed from a jump. Sallie Roma, his wife, stands right behind him, her body looking like a well-proportioned X with her arms raised out and her head raised towards the heavens. He stands up, as she sidesteps him in a graceful spin to kneel in front of him, and he RVD's a thumbs pose as she does the same, looking up at him.

He looks downwards at her, mouths some instructions, and they head to the ring with stern focus and an energetic gait. He jumps and dives through between the middle and bottom ropes, tumbling forth into a hop, into a standing position at the center of the ring, while Sallie gracefully jogs around to her position in the support corner. He climbs a corner and thrusts his arms out like Bret Hart, shouting "King of Submission!" towards no one in particular. He hops down from the corner, takes his jacket and shades off, handing them over the ropes down to Sallie, then takes his bandanna off and throws it into the audience. Axl then stands at the ready, alternating between hopping place and standing in a crouch.

Mayne: I hate him, I hate him more than I hate my uncle with the clammy hands.

Douglas: Despite Billy’s lack of respect for Axl Evermore, this man made a big splash right now the second he set foot in an IWC ring by dishing out punishment to our own World Heavyweight Champion. Now he’s making his in ring debut right here tonight in the center of that ring for what should be a phenomenal three way tag team match. The winning team receiving the top seat in the upcoming tag team tournament.

Billy: A top seat is absolutely as pointless as paraplegics playing ping pong. Wait, I guess they could use their teeth to operate the paddles.

Douglas: Just shut up.

Axl is warming himself in the ring while Sallie claps from the outside of the ring, trying to rally the fans behind her man.

NO MORE SCREWING AROUND...IT'S TIME TO GET VICIOUS!

"Church of Hot Addiction" by Cobra Starship hits over the PA system as the lights flash green, gold, white, and black. MAX, wearing his UWF Deadly Games Title, emerges from the back, wearing his Fully Loaded team jacket and black wraparound shades with green lens. Upon reaching the middle of the stage, he unsnaps his belt and raises it into the air with both hands, triggering a red-and-white laser light show that circles the arena.

Cobra Starship: Hey hey hey, my body's ELECTRIC...

MAX slings his belt over his shoulder as he confidently picks up the pace and heads to the ring with nothing but focus in his vivid green eyes behind his lens. Upon reaching the ring, he climbs the steps, places the belt across the near corner, and then grabs the ropes and slings himself in with a front rolling rope spring. He lands perfectly on his feet, then takes his belt off the corner, climbs it, and raises it high and proud, shouting "DEADLY GAMES!", getting some cheers from that. He climbs down, takes off his jacket and shades, and hands them and the belt to the ref to place away, then jogs in place at the opposite corner with Axl at his side to wait for the start of the match as the music fades out with one final strain of...

Hey hey hey, my body's ELECTRIC...

Axl instructs his wife to go backstage now, demanding she do so in fact. She slowly turns, understand why she must do this as this match could become quite out of control.

Mayne: Another man I now have a growing dislike of. To think just last week I was kind of a fan of this man, mostly because he was going to hook me up with some strippers for my upcoming birthday…

Douglas: Your birthday is in like five months.

Billy: He didn’t know that. But the point is, now that Max has aligned himself with Axl, I just can no longer respect him at all.

Dan: I’m actually very eager to see what this team brings to the table here tonight, it should be a nice blend of styles with Axl’s technical prowess, and Max’s high flying, aerial dare devilry.

Axl and Max are still discussing their upcoming match with one another when 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 with the Cartel Championship hanging from his grasp. 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 while throwing down the Cartel title carelessly. 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. 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.

Mayne: Is there anyone in this match worth liking?

Douglas: Maybe not by your standards thus far, but I happen to be kind of a fan of all three individuals who have made their way out here thus far. I shudder to think of what Chapel and Psycho are going to be capable of since it almost appears that both men are now on the same page for the time being. Especially considering that Chapel is now the number one contender for the World Heavyweight title.

Chapel glares across the ring at both Axl and Max who beam glares in his direction as well. The referee has snatched the Cartel title off the canvas, dispatching it through the ropes while the arena lights dim again, the stage slowly fills with smoke, the constant banging of the drum's echoes throughout the arena shortly followed by the guitar as the song heats up and gets faster. Blood For Blood by Machine Head finally starts to kick in as The shadow lurks in the smoke, a huge ball of ball spirals up from the rampway and Psycho emerges from the smoke. A hooded sleeveless jacket covers his torso and the hood up... He walks menacingly down to the ring with an icy cold glare in his eyes. The fire now ignites all the way down the ramp as he walks down the fiery corridor towards the ring. He slides into the ring underneath the ropes and de-robes himself, he throws the garment over the ropes to the outside and crouches down in the corner and grasps his hands together and waits. He stares up at Chapel who is shooting him a cold stare as well, yet there now seems to be some understanding between both men. The referee looks tentative to even get anywhere near Psycho after his outburst last week in the center of the ring.

Douglas: I’m actually rather surprised to see Psycho in the ring tonight, instead of in a prison or asylum after the way he snapped last week and took out half our security staff as well as Michelle Blacker, and referee Fitzpatrick, all of which are still at home resting on medical leave.

Mayne: Hopefully this demented Psycho turns his homicidal desires on Axl and Max, maybe Chapel too, and I pray that he actually finishes the job this time unlike with Robin last week.

Chapel and Psycho now turn their attention to Fully Loaded, who aren’t backing down, no matter how massive their opponents might be. Killing in the Name of starts to play over the PA system, leading into a furious outcry of boos from the standing crowd. Green laser lights dance from the rafters down onto the stage and through the curtains as well, where Too Magnificent and Jackson Adams materialize. Both men saunter out onto the stage and extend their arms out to their sides, looking around at the fans with pompous smirks on their faces. This really drawls the ire of the fans who are becoming more and more outraged the longer they have to endure the sight of the Alpha Generation cohorts. Finally they make their way towards the ring and slip in under the cables before jumping to their feet and glaring towards their opponents for the evening with no fear in their hearts whatsoever.

Mayne: Finally, people I like.

Douglas: Yes, we get it already, your obsessed with the Alpha Generation, although there’s not much worth obsessing about. Especially given the way they were just treating Robin backstage, it’s enough to turn my stomach in disgust. But something that makes me happy is that Too Mag and Jackson have nothing but enemies in the ring right now.

Billy: Uh oh, I just realized that too.

Jackson Adams and Too Magnificent have no entered the ring representing the Alpha Generation, the duo discussing amongst themselves what needs to be done tonight. That’s when Fully Loaded, and Psycho and Chapel rush right the AG contingent, jumping them before the bell could even start. It finally rings away in the background as Adams is backed into one of the corners, both Axl and Max stomping away at his mid-section, while Too Magnificent is over powered by the team of Psycho and Chapel. They are throwing right hands repeatedly into his face while he falls spine first against one of the corners, trying to stand up even as he’s pummeled by both these large individuals. After a struggle Adams is allowed to step out of the corner with his back pressed to the ropes, Axl charging in and clotheslining him straight over the cables. Both Psycho and Chapel grab hold of Too Mag’s hair, dragging him out of the corner then charging him at the ropes and throwing him over them to the outside as well. The force of the throw sends Too Magnificent turning inside out and smacking against the mats face first with tremendous force. Following Too Mag’s brutal landing Axl and Max start to slide through the ropes to get at the Alpha Generation only to be grabbed from behind by their somewhat deranged opposition. They’re spun around and immediately both teams begin to brawl with one another, Evermore exchanging shots with Chapel while Max fights with the much larger Psycho.

Douglas: This three way tag starting off with a wild brawl here from the trio of tandems. Each one of these pearings want to go into the tag tournament with a wave of momentum on their sides.

Mayne: Why? Isn’t it rather irrelevant whoever wins this match, after all, the Alpha Generation are going to walk out with the tag team titles regardless.

Dan: I fail to share your faith in such a team of scoundrels.

Axl and Max are both being overpowered by their much bigger opponents, Chapel delivering a well timed knee to Evermore’s gut. The collision causes him to be bent forward before the War Angel takes him by the throat and literally hoists him off the canvas in order to throw him back first against one of the turnbuckles. He then steps in and begins to throw repeated body shots into his mid-section, really laying into him with fist after fist. Max has been grabbed by the wrist now and whipped across the ring by Psycho only to stop and put the breaks on it, instead turning towards the Sadistic One who drags him forward into an attempted short arm clothesline. Instead of connecting with it Max avoids it by ducking and rushing into the ropes behind his opponent, bouncing off of them but then immediately charging into a hard back kick to the gut from Psycho. The Sadistic One steps back as Chapel turns and runs across the ring, delivering a high knee directly to Max’s face that causes him to stand up straight. He only has his legs beneath him for a moment before Psycho comes charging in and jumping into the air, catching him around the back of the neck to drag him down into a huge reverse neckbreaker. The back of Max’s head hits off the ring with force as he rolls onto his back, Chapel stepping in and quickly dropping an elbow right into his chest, he and Psycho finishing off their synchronized series of assaults.

Mayne: Did I just turn retarded, or are Psycho and Chapel actually working as a team in there?

Douglas: Although I don’t question that your brain functionality is at it’s lowest possible level, only working to make sure you keep breathing, you are correct in your assessment. Chapel and Psycho are shockingly working together, and working together well at that.

Chapel now rises to his feet, albeit hunched over, leaving him in a prone state for Axl who steps out of the corner, catching him around the neck then dropping back into a hard DDT. The War Angel’s skull crashes off the canvas before he rolls across the ring, Axl rising to his feet a few inches from the ropes as Psycho comes charging in with a big boot and a roar. Axl ducks down though, grabbing the top rope and low bridging Psycho who’s leg flies over the cable. He then turns and tumbles to the outside mats with force, spilling down right along side Chapel. Axl gets to his feet and turns to spot both men trying to stand on the outside, revving himself up for some type of high risk dive perhaps. With the crowd behind him he turns and bolts towards the ropes, only to charge right into a lariat to the throat from Jackson Adams, who entered the ring in the nick of time. Axl is laid out from the impact while Adams turns towards Max who is standing up with the assistance of the cables then steps in and springs into the air with a dropkick to his chest. Max is knocked up and over the ropes, sent into a backwards flip before he ends up slamming to the outside mats. Jackson then turns his attention back towards Evermore who is slowly forcing himself up to his feet, crouched over due to that lariat, in perfect positioning for a charging Adams. That’s before Axl steps forward, catching hold of Jackson’s leg and hoisting him into the air before dropping back into a huge flapjack. Jackson is planted hard face first into the canvas, rolling onto his back immediately after the collision with the ring. Evermore gets to his feet and calls for Max once more, who slides quickly into the ring, approaching the down Adams as both he and Axl take hold of his ankles. They lift his legs into the air then pull them apart like he were a wishbone, causing Jackson to sit up and howl in pain. He can only do this for a moment though before he’s double dropkicked from both Axl and Max, knocking him right back onto his spine. Evermore and Max then roll over backwards onto their feet and turn, charging at Too Magnificent in the corner, double dropkicking him as well.

The big AG rep falls off the apron and lands on his feet, flustered as a result of these repeated sneaky attacks. Evermore gets up while Max exits the ring, his partner going straight after a rising Adams. Jackson gets up to his knees before he’s grabbed by the wrist, Axl spinning under it into a twisting arm lock. He then reaches out, interlocking his legs around the ankle of Adams, drop toe holding him face first into the canvas before Evermore spins around, taking hold of Jackson’s arm, folding it around behind his back into a key lock submission. Jackson grinds his teeth, appearing to be rather frustrated with these repeated submissions, trying to force himself up to his feet. As he stands Axl steps behind his back and places him in a hammerlock now before dragging him in reverse towards his corner, reaching out slapping the hand of Max. While Adams is still trapped in the hammerlock Max steps around the apron behind the cables facing Axl’s back, springing up onto the tp rope feet first then flipping over the head of his partner. He catches Jackson around the neck, dragging him down into a stunner almost which cause Adams to stand back up and stumble in reverse against the waiting shoulder of Evermore. Axl hoists him into the air and turns so that Jackson is spread across his shoulder in the back drop position only for Max to come charging in, jumping into the air then catching him around the neck. Both Evermore and Max tumble to the canvas, connecting with a huge back drop reverse neckbreaker combination. Adams slams off the canvas then sits up, reaching for his neck in pain.

Douglas: Some nice tag team moves by Fully Loaded, this duo cooking in there against the Alpha Generation’s Jackson Adams.

Mayne: He’s using the same strategy as Mohammed Ali by tricking his opponents into thinking he’s weak, then when they expend all their energy he capitalizes on their weakness, I love it, and I love the greatness that is Jackson Adams.

Dan: This obsession has gotten borderline retarded.

Max takes hold of Jackson’s hair, pulling him onto his knees while throwing repeated fist strikes to the side of his face. He stands him up a bit then spins around into a discus jab directly across Jackson’s jaw, knocking him right down to the canvas once more. After being struck the AG member turns to his elbows and knees, trying to stand up only for Max to kick him to the back of the head. The small but quick Max takes Jackson around the neck now and stands him up, aiming himself towards one of the turnbuckles in position for what looks to be a sliced bread number 2, charging at the corner with quickness. He steps up it before Adams places his hands to his back and shoves him up over his shoulder, causing Max to go into a flip as he lands on his feet right in front of Adams. Jackson steps forward while Max is still bent over, trying to get his balance, stepping over his head and hooking both of his arms. It appears that Adams is already preparing to deliver the Double Take (Angel’s Wings). Instead of hitting it though, Max uses all the strength his small frame can muster to power Adams backwards into the corner where Too Mag reaches over, slapping his partner’s shoulder. Too Mag then shows his great agility for a man of his proportions by jumping over the ropes, and almost over his own partner in order to catch Max around the waist. He rolls him out from under Adams’ bum into a sunset flip.

The Fully Loaded member rolls over backwards with quickness and gets onto his feet before stepping forward with a swinging kick aimed that Too Mag’s head. Too Magnificent ducks it though as Max spins around in a full circle to face his bid opponent who reaches up, grabbing him by the back of the head. The AG representative, places his feet to Max’s stomach and then drops in reverse, monkey flipping him straight at Adams in the corner. He hits Jackson’s chest rear end first before Adams pushes him up onto his shoulders then charges across the ring, Too Mag rolling out of the way before Max is sit-out powerbombed with great brutality against the canvas. Max shouts in horrid pain as his body hit the ring with such force, Adams rolling out of the ring now with the crowd screaming as a result of what they just witnessed.

Mayne: What grace, what poise, what brutality.

Douglas: That was quite the tag team move from the Alpha Generation I must admit.

An angry, more deranged Too Magnificent steps towards Max who is still lying on the canvas, aching while Adams immediately charges towards Psycho standing in the corner. He throws a fist into his face, knocking Psycho down to the mats before jumping onto the second cable, springing off then turning in mid-air to dropkick Chapel right to the face. The War Angel is knocked off the corner as well, the Cartel Champion landing beside the Sadistic One as both men convene and start to plot breaking the rules to crush the Alpha Generation. Before they can do so though, Too Mag grabs hold of Max’s ankle, lifting up on it and then rolling him over backwards onto his feet long enough to place his palms to his chest and stomach. He hoists him into the air above his head with a gorilla press and charges towards the ropes, throwing him over straight at Chapel and Psycho. The fans are screaming before they realize that Max has been caught across the chests of both men. The dup briefly glance towards one another and nod before throwing Max high, high up into the air. The young man catches tremendous height while swinging his arms and legs beneath him before he comes crashing down hard into the outside mats with a devastating thud. The impact causes Max to go into convulsions while both Psycho and Chapel slide into the ring. Neither man will be held back any longer while Jackson and Too Magnificent step towards them, another fist fight breaking out between both teams. Official Princeton steps between them, trying to force them apart to the best of his abilities. He can’t get them separated while Evermore checks on Max’s condition on the outside of the ring.

Chapel slugs Jackson to the face with such force it knocks him down to the canvas and sends him rolling under the ropes to the outside of the ring, the War Angel pursuing him. Jackson drops down onto his feet, backing away from Chapel with his palms extended outward in his direction, shaking his head, pleading with him to back off. His pleas only force a broad smile to his face, taking off after Jackson who runs across the ring, looking over his shoulder throughout the process. He doesn’t even realize that he’s running right at a bent forward Axl Evermore who was still checking on his partner’s condition. Axl catches Adams knees first to his shoulder then stands up, back dropping him through the air. A loud scream comes from Jackson before he crashes down with force right into the mats across his back, yelling from the pain. Axl stands up straight behind him and walks right into a hard boot directly to the face, knocking him down to the mats with force thanks to Chapel’s wide foot. The War Angel leans against the apron now while glaring down at Evermore and Adams with obvious malicious intents captured in his flaming eyes. Inside the ring Psycho has backed Too Mag into a corner, repeatedly throwing right hands into his face before Princeton steps in, burying his shoulder to the sadistic savages’ gut, forcing him in reverse and immediately pointing to his shirt afterwards, insisting that he leave the ring or be fired. Psycho gives him a cold glare then smiles diabolically before vacating the ring.

Billy: It’s about time some of these hard working officials finally took a stand.

Douglas: Your only supporting Princeton because he’s stopping Psycho from inflicting any further brutality on Too Magnificent. Your biasness isn’t even remotely humorous anymore.

Mayne: One bias word has never came through these lips sir, not one.

Psycho has now rejoined Chapel in their corner, opting to play nicely for right now while a battered, bruised Max grabs the cables, using them to force his near broken body up onto the apron. He almost falls over several times while dragging himself up the ropes before Too Magnificent steps towards him and then reaches over the cables, placing him in a front chancery. With a grunt Too Mag hoists him up into the air and holds him upside down, stepping backwards as he has his opponent clutched in a vertical suplex position. As he strolls around the ring slowly the fans begin to boo but cannot help to count along, Too Mag allowing all the blood to rush to Max’s head while completely prone in this position. Finally, after almost a full minute, Too Magnificent falls back into a huge vertical suplex. The impact drives all air from Max’s lungs while he just lies there now, breathing hard, trying to get his senses back but is incapable of doing so. Too Magnificent turns over and hooks his leg.

As fast as his battered body will allow he shoots a shoulder from the canvas, Too Magnificent rising to his knees and unleashing a slight chuckle. He now takes hold of Max’s hair and lifts his head, shouting into his face and slapping him across the cheek. He stands up and takes hold of Max’s wrist, dragging him up to his knees then kicking him hard to the chest. The impact knocks him onto his back once more while Too Magnificent drops down to his side and begins to rub his forearm across his face repeatedly. He is almost grinding the flesh from Max’s features while the veteran stomps his feet, trying to get up. He can’t do so however while in this position as Too Magnificent grabs him by the hair, dragging him over onto his knees then pulling him up to his feet. He hooks his arm around his waist, hoisting him up into the air onto his shoulder then charging him across the ring and driving him chest first into the turnbuckle chest first with a running dominator position. Max is positioned against the corner upside down, curled over it as Too Mag slaps JA’s palm, tagging him in. As soon as Adams slips through the ropes, Too Mag sits Max up on the turnbuckle, Jackson climbing up the corner and slapping on a front chancery. Jackson drags Max up to his feet on the top rope then snaps off with a huge superplex, planting his opponent hard into the canvas. Max sits up, arching his spine and yelling out in extreme agony before Jackson crawls towards him, pulling him onto his back and hooking his leg.

Max gets a shoulder up.

Mayne: Is Max as stupid as he looks? I actually thought that was impossible. Him kicking out of these pinfall attempts is pointless, he’s prolonging the eventual defeat at the hands of the Alpha Generation.

Douglas: I hardly think it’s eventual. Max still has a fighting chance in this match if he can make the tag to Evermore.

Wearing a crude smile on his face, Adams stands up and begins to watch Max turn onto his side and desperately begin to make his way towards an eager Evermore, who still has his arm extended out as far as it will go over the top cable. Huffing and puffing as he goes, Max gets to his side and reaches out with his hand only for a smiling Jackson to grab hold of his wrist, shaking his head in the process.

Jackson: No, no, no, I don’t think so bitch.

Jackson pulls Max back up to his feet by his gripped arm then drags it down under his seat, hooking up the other arm in the process. He hoists Max up into the air now into a pumphandle slam position only for his smaller opponent to suddenly slip over his shoulder, landing on his feet behind his back. Before Adams has a chance to respond, Max wraps his hands around his head and drops to his knees, delivering a reverse jawbreaker with the top of his skull planted to the back of Jackson’s head. The Alpha member stands up straight, grabbing at his noggin before Max stands, looking weary and holding his back but jumping into the air nevertheless. He lands right on top of Jackson’s shoulders and prepares to flip over backwards before Adams places his hands to his thighs, shoving him over his cranium so that he lands right in front of him. Jackson then wraps his arm around Max’s neck and drops down into a layout reverse DDT. The back of Max’s skull hits the canvas hard, then sits up, reaching for his noggin before Adams scoots up quickly, burying his knee straight into his opponent’s back while rearing in reverse on the chin. The crowd is getting behind Max at this point, trying to motivate him to stand up, to power out of this submission hold.

Mayne: Ha, he actually is more stupid than he looks, I’m speechless. Here the guy had an opportunity to make a tag, and yet he goes for the big finish and he fails miserably.

Douglas: He had to weaken Adams enough to make the tag Billy, or he just would have been stopped cold in his tracks.

Billy: There is no weakening Adams, the man is impervious to pain.

Adams continues to rear back on the chin while driving his knee further and further into Max’s spine. The pain coursing through his back is almost indescribable, while he digs his fingers into his palms, the crowd trying to motivate him to the best of their abilities. Nothing seems to be working though, as Max is just too stricken by pain to stand, to fight, Adams really applying the submission with all his upper body strength. On the verge of fainting to the pain Max reawakens and begins to force himself upwards to much approval from the fans. He gets closer and closer to his feet while Adams taking his knee from his spine, continuing to pull back on his chin. Just as Max reaches a standing base Jackson breaks the chin lock, grabs hold of his arms, then spins him around and drops him face first into the canvas with the unprettier. A loud collection of boos spring up from the onlookers before Adams forces Max onto his back, hooking his leg and realizing he has the easy pinfall victory here.

Max shoots his shoulder from the canvas, getting it up in time to avoid a pinfall. Adams sits up, grumbling to himself and then shaking his head, twisting his face into a crude smile at the sight of Evermore’s face. Jackson turns and takes hold of Max’s hair, rolling him over onto his knees and then slapping on a front chancery submission hold as he falls to his knee in front of him. Max tries to struggle through this lock, his head and neck being twisted and all air being deprived to his brain. It is becoming quite clear that Max is finished, that his time is quickly waning the longer he stays in this submission. The Official steps in, hunched over both Adams and Max, moving around them to check on the submission and make sure the member of Fully Loaded hasn’t tapped out yet. With a grunt and a grit of his teeth, even after taking the unprettier, Max begins to force himself to his feet. He forces himself up to a standing base then buries his shoulder straight into Jackson’s gut, pushing him backwards into another turnbuckle. Unfortunately he forces him against the AG corner, Too Mag reaching over the ropes and slapping Jackson’s shoulder, tagging himself in. Adams continues to hold Max in a front chancery before Too Magnificent steps behind the battered opposition’s back, beginning to throw rights and lefts into both sets of ribs. Max almost tumbles to the canvas with each shot before Jackson grabs his head, forcing it under his seat then wrapping his arms around his waist.

Once again he lifts Max up into a powerbomb position with Too Magnificent standing up in front of him then throws him forward right at his partner. As soon as he does Too Mag jumps into the air, placing his knees to Max’s spine and bringing him down with a back cracker. The crowd reacts with a groan as Max bounces off the knees then stands up with an arched back, staggering towards Jackson who throws his arm across his chest then drops in reverse, hitting him with a downward spiral that slams him face first into the second turnbuckle pad. The collision leaves Max propped against the turnbuckle, leaning chest first against it before Too Magnificent charges forward, jumping into the air with double knees right into the back of his head and upper spine.

Mayne: What tag team moves by the Alpha Generation! These guys are just tearing Max apart, and I just adore it more than my Spongebob collectible box set.

Douglas: I’m sure you do, and thanks for reminding us why the life of a 35 year old virgin isn’t all glamorous as it sounds.

The AG stand up and high five one another now, show boating while Jackson slides through the ropes onto the apron. Then Too Magnificent takes hold of Max’s shoulder, standing him before placing his shoulders to his spine. He hoists Max up into the air, placing him in a reverse DVD position, perhaps setting up for exactly that move. Before he can hit anything though, Max begins to punch the back of Too Mag’s head then force himself up into the air, twisting so that he lands right on top of his shoulders in a seated position. Just as Max prepares to hit a hurricarana Too Magnificent charges forward to powerbomb him over the cables only for the Fully Loaded representative to drop back over the ropes. He pulls Too Mag over into a hurricarana that sends him flipping and crashing to the outside mats. Too Magnificent is sprawled out across the mats while Max holds onto the ropes, using them to drag himself up to a standing base on the apron right when Jackson enters the ring, charging directly at him. As he is prepared to deliver a big move Max bends forward, sticking his head through the cables and sticking it under Jackson’s posterior. Adams has a bewildered look on his face before Max stands up straight, back dropping Jackson over the cables, sending him crashing right on top of a now standing Too Magnificent. The Alpha Generation is completely wiped out now while Chapel shrugs his shoulders, sliding through the ropes into the ring. As Max slips through the cables into the squared circle he spots the War Angel charging in and ducks under his attempted lariat. He then charges across the ring and jumps onto the opposite set of ropes, springing off the second one and turning towards the War Angel with an attempted crossbody only to be caught across his massive opponent’s chest. Max struggles valiantly but in vain as the Cartel Champion backs towards the ropes, placing his spine to them and then throws the smaller man over the cables with a fall away slam that sends him crashing right on top of both Jackson and Too Magnificent. All three men are knocked to the outside mats with the crowd going absolutely nuts.

Douglas: Oh my God, Max just throw like a ragdoll over the cables on top of the Alpha Generation!

Mayne: And he didn’t even need pixy dust, happy thoughts or gay ass leotards.

The reaction is still louder than ever from the fans as Chapel turns around to face all three men trying to force themselves to their feet on the outside of the ring. He then turns, bolting into the far ropes, bouncing off then coming back in before he dives over the cables, soaring through the air with a huge awesome splash right onto Jackson and Too Mag, Max having gotten clear of his path. The fans are jumping up and down, screaming as loud as they can at the sight of Chapel crashing into both men, almost squashing them under his girth.

Dan: Chapel throwing caution to the wind!

Mayne: Is this man crack headed or something!?! He could have killed himself with that dive.

Douglas: The last thing the War Angel is worried about is death, believe me, especially when he’s got the chance to get his hands on his Alpha opponents, the same men who laid him out last week.

With the trio trying to force themselves to their feet and exchanging shots with one another, nobody even spots Psycho climbing up the turnbuckle with his back aimed towards his opponents and his own partner. The Sadistic One reaches the top rope, steadies himself then flips over backwards, soaring right towards the Alpha Generation and Chapel with a huge moonsault. All his weight is put behind it and sends everyone crashing with force to the outside mats. The fans are jumping up and down, going absolutely insane over that last acrobatic dive.

Mayne: Now Psycho has gone craz…..wait.

Douglas: Yeah, I think he’s beyond that point Billy, especially based off that last high flying move.

Slapping the barricades and starting a “Holy Shit” chant, the fans are still riled up after these last high death defying moves performed by Chapel and Psycho. Unbeknownst to everyone on the outside of the ring trying to force themselves to their feet, Max has slid into the ring, crawling towards his partner Axl. Evermore has his arm stretched out far before Max dives forward, slapping his hand. A loud reaction comes from the fans as a result while Evermore slips through the ropes into the ring, and then charges at the cables, jumping high into the air as he lands on the top one. Before anyone can stop it, the warring Alpha Gen members battling with Psycho and Chapel, look up to spot Evermore flying through the air with a huge senton bomb right on top of everyone. The Alpha Generation and sadistic duo crumble under Axl who crashes onto all of them and then rolls forward across the ramp ending up on his feet.

Douglas: Ohhhh, another high flying move, bodies flying everyone in this match.

Mayne: If the tag team tournament is anything like this, it might actually be slightly entertaining.

The only person besides Axl who is getting to his feet is Psycho, who has forced himself to an upright base before rolling into the ring under the cables. He gets to his back while Axl slips through the ropes, following him in and immediately begins to stomp away at his chest and face. Psycho rolls to his elbows and knees before Evermore calls for Max who comes charging in as quickly as he can, stepping off the back of the Sadistic One and flying right at Axl. He lands on his shoulders in a powerbomb position before Evermore pushes him over into a backwards double stomp right into Psycho’s lower spine. Psycho roars in pain before he drops to his chest, rolling onto his spine as Evemore charges forward and jumps into the air, coming down with a back first senton splash into his stomach. As he rolls across the canvas, Max steps to his side and flips over in reverse, performing a beautiful standing moonsault right on top of him. The crowd slaps the barricades and jumps for joy at this combination of moves from Fully Loaded. They’re not through yet though as Max gets to his feet in front of a standing Axl, rolling in reverse and extending his legs, sticking them out around Evermore’s waist. Axl wraps his arms around Max’s waist as well, pulling him up into a wheel barrow then loading him on top of his shoulder in a back drop position only to drop forward and plant Max’s leg across Psycho’s throat. More cheers come up from the crowd as Max rolls away from Psycho, Evermore dropping down into the pin on him, yet the official reminds him that he’s not the legal man.

Axl rises to his feet then and steps over Psycho before approaching the ropes, spotting Chapel standing up on the outside of the ring as he grabs the ropes. He pulls himself over into a huge crossbody, flying right at the War Angel only for Chapel to push him down into a rib buster straight across his knee. The fans react with shock over the impact while Evermore stands up hunched over and holding his ribs only for Chapel to step over his head, wrapping his arms around his waist then hoisting him up into the air in a powerbomb position. Chapel then turns and powerbombs Axl spine first right onto the apron. The fans react with shock over the tremendous collision Axl’s body just connected against the apron with. He crumbles across his chest and stomach on the mats while the War Angel steps towards the ring, climbing up onto it and grabbing the ropes, beginning to step over them. As soon as he does begin to enter Max moves in, grabbing the top cable and beginning to lift up and down on it, racking it against his testicles.

Chapel roars in pain with each lift before Max springs up onto the top rope in front of him and then steps across the cables before jumping into the air, landing on the Cartel Champion’s shoulders. He falls over sideways, pulling the War Angel off the ropes with a huge hurricarana. Chapel flips over, slamming into the ring across his back with Max landing on all fours in front of him. He now gets to his feet when Jackson enters the ring and rushes forward with a lariat aimed right at his head. Max ducks it and then charges forward before jumping into the air, going into a headstand as the back of his legs hit the cables, bouncing off them and then flipping in reverse. He lands on his feet as Jackson spins to face him only to be caught around the neck now by Max who uses the momentum of the ricochet off the cables to flip over into what appears to be a sliced bread number 2. Instead Max flips over backwards and catches him by the shoulders, pulling him down into a back cracker out of the sliced bread position. Adams bounces off the knees and begins to convulse as a result, rolling across the ring and flopping up and down while Max reaches his feet, turning to spot Too Magnificent who is re-entering the ring. Too Mag leans against the turnbuckle for support spine first before Max comes barreling in, jumping into the air and swinging over the top rope with a 619 straight to the back of his large opponent’s head. The crowd goes nuts as a result of this as Too Magnificent crumbles to the canvas, adding to the numerous bodies that are littering the ring.

Dan: After being dominated for so long, Max is now unloading on all his opponents with numerous high impact, acrobatic moves the likes of which I’ve never seen.

Mayne: Eh, it’s mildly impressive, but nothing good lasts for long.

Psycho begins to stand up once more, staggering around while holding his throat before Max drops down off the apron then charges at him. Psycho begins to lift a boot before Max drops to his spine, trying to baseball slide between his legs. Before he can do so though, Psycho lowers his foot then reaches down, wrapping his hands around Max’s throat. Max’s eyes get wide before Psycho just drops back, lifting his opponent straight off the canvas and sending him flipping over, flying half way across the ring with the double handed choke over head suplex. Finally after much hang time, Max crashes into the canvas across his back and sits up with a dazed, incoherent expression on his dreary face. The crowd is going absolutely nuts over the last move as Psycho approaches Jackson, who is forcing himself to his feet, Axl entering the ring painstakingly in front of him. Axl’s spine is turned towards Adams, while leaning on the ropes for support before Psycho slaps his arms around Jackson’s waist, going for a German suplex. Jackson begins to flail his arms and scream before he reaches out desperately, wrapping his arms around Axl’s waist to protect himself. That doesn’t stop Psycho whop drops back, lifting Adams into the air while Jackson hoists Evermore, both men flying through the air with a double German suplex. They crash into the canvas brutally, leaving all three men sprawled out across the canvas, sucking up the little air that they can get into their lungs. An IWC chant has commenced amongst the fans, everyone going nuts over that last move.

The chanting from the fans is getting louder while Psycho rolls over, trying to reach his feet before Too Magnificent rushes forward with a knee lift directly into his face. The impact almost knocks Psycho out and causes him to turn, landing on his spine while Too Mag continues to charge forward, not even realizing he’s rushing right into Chapel who side steps him, getting behind his back. He buries his shoulders to his spine then lifts him into the air band then drops onto his seat, hitting the Cardinal Sin (Torture rack backbreaker). Too Mag bounces off his shoulders, flipping over sideways and crashing into the canvas while Chapel continues to sit on the canvas with a malicious glint in his eyes. As soon as he sits up though, a battered Max charges forward and lunges into him with a brutal shinning wizard. The impact knocks Chapel onto his back while Max rolls over in reverse right onto his feet, still bent forward though. He doesn’t even spot Jackson stepping in, straddling the back of his skull and hooking both of his arms. Adams hoists Max into the air then turns, dropping him face first into the canvas with the Angel’s Wings. Max crashes off the canvas and then drops over onto his back while Jackson sits for only a second admiring his handiwork before he’s grabbed by the ankle and pushed in reverse. As his leg is lifted up by a battered Axl Evermore, Jackson rolls over in reverse right onto his feet only to be kicked to the gut and for both his arms to be underhooked. AXL hoists Jackson into the air and then drops him on his head with a double underhook sit-out piledriver. Adams’ body crumbles into a heap across the canvas with the fans screaming until Psycho steps up behind Evemore, grabbing his arms, forcing them across his throat and dragging him up out of a seated position before falling back into a release Psychotic Episode.

Somehow Evermore is able to flip over and land on his feet though, before charging backwards into the cables. He bounces off, coming back in at Psycho who stands as Evermore jumps right at him, landing on top of his shoulders in another attempt to display his aerial capabilities. As soon as he lands there Psycho rushes forward and throws Evermore into a powerbomb back first right into the turnbuckle. The fans react with shock as Evermore’s body hits the turnbuckle with such force, flipping over onto his side and arching his spine. Everyone in the ring is now laid out, Psycho too tired to capitalize on that last move.

Douglas: What a series of moves in this tag team tournament top seat qualifier!

Mayne: This is insane, at this rate nobody is going to be capable of even competing in the tournament with their bodies so spent and battered.

The fans have risen and started another “IWC” chant at the sight of everyone laid out in the ring. Psycho gets to all fours and crawls towards Too Magnificent, dropping down on top of him in order to hook his leg.

Too Mag shoots his shoulder from the canvas, Psycho sitting up and grinding his teeth in anger over this revelation. He finally rolls onto his elbows and knees while a battered, barely coherent Max has gotten to his feet, charging right at the ropes at Psycho’s side. He bounces off and comes back in before stepping off Psycho’s back to launch himself forward into a shooting star press right on top of Too Magnificent, immediately hooking his leg with the crowd going nuts.

Before he can make the count Chapel dives in, dropping an elbow to the back of his head.

Douglas: Another nearfall on Too Magnificent, the Alpha Generation is just barely hanging in there thus far.

Mayne: Jackson and Too Mag better win if they know what’s good for them, if not they’ll have to answer to Desolation.

Max begins to stand up when Psycho stands up behind him suddenly and locks his arms about his waist. Max’s eyes widen before Psycho drops back, German suplexing him over the cables, sending him flipping through the air then plummeting face first into the outside mats. He bashes off of them violently then rolls across them, looking out cold at this point while Psycho falls against the cables for support. His partner Chapel is trying to force himself up to his feet only for Jackson to stagger up behind him, catching both of his arms. He twists the War Angel around, getting him into positioning for the unprettier. Before he can hit it, Chapel pulls his head free from between Adams’ shoulder blades and pushes him forward right at Psycho, who catches him with a kick to the gut. Adams is bent forward as Psycho takes him around the head, dragging it between his legs then wrapping his arms around his waist. Psycho hoists Adams into the air, holding him over his shoulders while catching him by both biceps then charging forward and throwing Jackson through the air. JA catches tremendous height before he finally crashes with force right into the canvas, bouncing off of it and then flipping over backwards onto his chest and stomach. Psycho scoots across his knees and pushes Adams over onto his back, going for the pinfall while Chapel steps forward, placing the bottom of his boot on his partner’s back.

The fans react with a loud explosion of cheers as Chapel takes his boot off Psycho’s spine, the sadistic savage rising to his knees with a disturbing smirk coming to his face. His eyes are clouded with dementia while Chapel stands behind him, his arm raised in victory.

Douglas: Chapel and Psycho have done it, they’ve emerged as the victorious team in this triple threat tag brawl, meaning they will definitely be in the tag team tournament and have the top seat as well. But man, what a hard fought victory.

Mayne: No, watching Adams lose is worse than viewing an episode of Sex in the City. Damn you Sarah Jessica Parker and your baboon face. This night not starting out the best for the Alpha Generation, in fact the past two weeks have been horror stories for what is suppose to be the most dominant force in all of wrestling.

Douglas: Are the Alpha Generation on a downward spiral? Does anyone care? Not me, because what’s important is that Psycho and Chapel have emerged victorious here this evening.

Axl Evermore has assisted a very dazed Max to his feet on the outside of the ring as both men glare to the interior straight at both Chapel and Psycho. The eyes of both teams meet one another’s with the fans still cheering on everything they just watched, more animated than a crowd in the Impact zone, just not bribed to applaud.

JUST TALK

A sweaty Nathan Creed breathes in and out with an expansion of his cheeks while bending down then standing up, swinging his arms out to his sides. He does numerous squat thrusts in preparation for his match against Desolation which is coming up in just a few moments. Already Nathan has developed a healthy sweat while getting physically prepared for the battle that lies ahead against the Dark Man, perhaps his toughest opposition on the IWC roster to date. He exerts as much energy as possible to get his tired muscles working and his heart properly pumping while veins protrude through his slightly tired flesh.

Nathan, we need to talk man.

Creed stands up straight and his face becomes chillingly cold, glaring directly at Orlando as he enters. The Icon strolls inward with his palms outstretched, trying to calm Creed down as soon as he steps towards him.

Cruze: Listen Nathan, I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but we really need to talk man. We need to get things straightened out, you never gave me a chance to explain.

A rather emotionless Creed extends his palm, placing it to Orlando’s chest, holding him back and raising another finger into the air, pointing it into Cruze’s face.

Nathan: Cruze, with all do respect, now is not the right time. I’ve already got too much on my mind as it is. I’ve got a match coming up.

Cruze rears his head and runs his palms down his face.

Orlando: You know what, for once I’m actually sorry, but what I have to say needs to be said, and you need to listen Creed.

Nathan: I need to listen? Even when your begging me your bossing me around.

Agitation has set into Creed’s face as he closes his eyes and shakes his head. A deep breath escapes from the Icon’s lungs.

Cruze: Alright, alright, I’ll stop being so fucking bossy. But please, let me tell you right now, I had nothing to do with what…..

Creed: You had nothing to do with what happened last week, yadda, yadda, yadda, I get it already.

Creed turns away from Orlando and begins to do his squat thrusts again, leaving the Icon completely befuddled, stopping as he scratches at the back of his neck.

Orlando: You get it already?

Again Creed stops his work out routine under much duress and turns to face Orlando with a slight smirk.

Nathan: Of course, I doubt you’d be that stupid to use your rented car to try and run me over and then leave it right where it can be found.

This revelation causes Orlando to be stuttered for a moment before shaking his head and extending his arms out to his sides.

Cruze: You mean to tell me you knew I wasn’t behind it all along?

Creed: Um, duh.

The Icon is flabbergasted yet relieved.

Orlando: Then how come you haven’t been returning my phone calls, or answering your front door when I visit?

Creed gives Orlando a very serious glare and places his hand on his shoulder as he explains himself.

Nathan: Well, I needed time to think, to clear my head, to sort through the facts and the bullshit running through my head. And amongst all that crap one thought became clear, if you were going to do something, you’d do it man to man, you’d have the courage to look me in the face if you were going to end my career. I know it’s this S.K neverwas trying to play games with us, that much is clear to me.

Cruze: Well, I’m glad you were able to see through the bullshit, maybe now we can do something about this tonight.

Creed: Yeah, yeah, yeah, but later, right now I got other things to deal with, but we will get to the bottom of this S.K problem by the end of the night, mark my words. Right now, I got to go deal with another annoyance hailing by the name of Desolation.

Nathan pats Orlando on the shoulder reassuringly then leaves the dressing room. A smirking Cruze watches him walk by before the smile changes to a look of speculation, scratching at his jaw as if intrigued by something.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

NO MORE HEROES

A sweaty, exhausted Bitchcakes McPhee is leaning sideways against a crate with his hand over his battered ribs thanks to that spear he took from Christian Savior at the beginning of the show. A grimace is present on his features while he continues to utilize the large crate at his side as a base to keep himself upright, agonizing over his match that kick started the show and glancing at a watch over his wrist. Where the watch came from, and how it got there remains a mystery that shall not have an answer, it’s a plot hole dammit, the whole show is full of them so just relax. The tired and angry McPhee is incapable of chilling out at this point in time, red hot over what happened to him at the hands of Savior and Riddick while impatiently awaiting the arrival of somehow. Suddenly his clothes begin to blow in the wind as if being hit by a great gust of air, McPhee eagerly looking up to spot none other than Max Power flying into the fray. He lands gracefully beside the drunken superstar, placing his fists to his hips and lifting his jaw up high, attempting to make it as square as possible to appear more impressive. His cape continues to blow in the wind behind him while Bitchcakes watches on with dreary, almost apathetic eyes. Oddly, sweat is streaming down Max Power’s body, as if he just got done doing something really strenuous, taking several deep breaths as well.

Power: Hello loyal citizen, it tis I, superhero extraordinaire, Max Power come to be of service once again. I’m glad you got my message.

Bitchcakes blinks his eyes oddly and then scratches at the back of his head with a slight smile.

Bitchcakes: Well the words you wrote in red paint on my wall did kind of tip me off, plus the message you sewed into my underpants. Was that really necessary by the way?

The superhero ponders his response only momentarily then shrugs his shoulders.

Max: It got you here didn’t it?

McPhee: Yeah, but you didn’t have to leave the sewing needle in my boxers, it almost gave me a second circumcision.

Bitchcakes feels the pain from when he attempted to put his shorts on earlier as he reaches timidly for his genitalia.

Max: Well, that’s besides the point citizen, you paid heed to my message and that’s all that matters. You’re here now and I can tell you that I may have discovered the fiendish culprit behind the abduction of your alcohol. A culprit I intend to bring to justice ton….

Bitchcakes: Whoa, whoa, hold on a second por favor.

Power seems bewildered by this abrupt cut off to his heroic speech, actually he seems a bit outraged by it but holds his tongue for just a moment.

McPhee: Tengo gusto de la cerveza, pero usted me falló.

Power: Your talking Spanish…

A dreadful glare is shot towards Bitchcakes, who immediately becomes bewildered then slaps himself on the back of the noggin.

Bitchcakes: Oh, I hate when that happens.

Power: Spent a lot of time in Mexico aye citizen?

McPhee: No, but I have drank a lot of tequila.

Power appears terrible baffled but isn’t given much time to digest this information as the still tired, pain stricken and mildly upset McPhee continues.

Bitchcakes: I was trying to say, I like my beer and all, but you’ve failed me up until this point. Week after week you show how un-heroic you are by not finding who stole my alcohol…..

Max: But…

McPhee: No, no, I don’t want to hear it. I came to you all those months ago because I desperately needed your help, but all you’ve done is brought me misery. You’ve let me down so many times it makes me sad, a very, very sad Bitchcakes. Who knows what’s happened to my beer all this time, what that cruel son of a bitch who stole them has been doing to them. Just thinking about how he’s been molesting them, running his fingers all up and down their seductive curves, putting his lips on their orifices, it’s enough to make me physically ill. Yet you’ve done nothing, I doubt you’ve even tried to really help me. Therefore I’ve went out to find myself a new superhero, one who could actually be of assistance.

Max pulls his head back and begins to chuckle in a heroic manner.

Power: Haha, there is no superhero mightier than Max Power.

Bitchcakes: Oh yes there is Max, a super powered being who won’t string me along, and has promised to find out who stole my beer by next week. His name is almost too sacred and fear instilling for me to speak, for he is the mighty Beer-Man!

Although masked, obvious amusement is present within Max’s eyes.

Max: Beer-Man? You’ve done drank yourself retarded.

McPhee: No I haven’t, for I see things clearly for once. Probably because I didn’t have my usual three shots of whisky with my waffles this morning, but that’s besides the point. Beer-Man is a real hero, one will really help me instead of trying to hurt me.

Max: First of all, let me explain….

Bitchcakes: No! I won’t listen to anymore of your lies….

Tears begin to form in Bitchcakes’ eyes the longer he gazes into Max Powers’ face.

McPhee: Your no longer my hero.

Almost sobbing Bitchcakes covers his face and scurries away down the hall, holding his ribs in the process while Max watches him run away, unsure of how to respond or what to even think. He just sighs and shakes his head.

Power: It was all for your own good Bitchcakes, it was all for your own good.

He continues to stand there, shaking his head back and forth.

NATHAN CREED VS. DESOLATION

Douglas: The past few weeks, Desolation has been making an example out of everyone he has come across. The Dark Man seems to be getting darker. Last weeks actions against Stacy Raines was a complete and utter tasteless act by Desolation.

Mayne: I disagree. That whore had it coming. He smacked her around like the toothless crack-whore she really is. That’s what you do with those women, just like any woman.

Douglas: And your brain deadness never ceases to make us wonder. How do you actually have a working brain?

Mayne: The same way you have a working penis.

Douglas: That made no sense.

“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 of Polyamous kicks in and Nathan dashes to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope. He bounds to his feet and climbs the turnbuckle. Nathan turns as the arena lights dim and the opening chords of the Rolling Stones' "Paint it Black" echo throughout the arena. Lights begins to flash as the electronic noise of the opening to Tarot's "I Rule." As the distroted strings kick in, the arena lights begin to flash, Desolation's logo appearing on the Jumbotron.

The heavy metals guitars kick in and a spotlight picks Desolation out in the audiance, one fist raised in the air.

"I was crowned a king in a womb,
tore my mother apart at birth,
gnawed at my father's bones,
then gave them to the earth!"

Desolation begins to slowly walk down the stairs to the ring, stripping of his black leather duster and stepping onto the ring barricade. He raises his arms straight out from his body, turning his head to the right, and then slowly to the left, looking over the crowd.

"Bowels of a grave turned loose,
spat out the one the reaper couldn't use.

I RULE!"

Desolation climbs the stairs and enters the ring. As he is halfway through the ropes, Creed charges and nails him in the back of the head to an explosive approval from the fans. Creed continues to hammer on the Dark Man before pulling him the rest of the way into the ring and delivering a massive European Uppercut and knocking Desolation into the corner. Creed follows up with a knife edged chop with a loud SMACK! The fans WHOOOOOO in response to it. SMACK! WHOOOOO! SMACK! WHOOO! Creed grabs Desolation by the arm and whips him to the other corner, charges, and nails Desolation with a devastating clothesline. Creed backs up as Desolation staggers from the corner. Creed grabs The Dark Man around his body, locking one arm between his arm and Desolation’s chest, then pulls him up and spins with a belly to belly suplex. Creed covers.

The fans cheer for a moment but it dies when they see that Desolation barely got his shoulder up.

Douglas: Nathan Creed came to fight and is looking to absolutely destroy the Alpha Generation’s Dark Man. He got a near fall there from a relentless assault. Look at Desolation’s chest from those chops. It’s red and bleeding.

Mayne: But Desolation is still in the match. Creed’s head is not where it should be while Desolation is a thinking man.

Douglas: Would your head be right if your friend was questioned about…. well… your head is never right. Moot question.

Mayne: Fuck you!

Douglas: Creed is looking to blow off some tension and Desolation is the one right in front of him.

Mayne: Well, in Creed’s favor, I must say it’s smart to try to take out Desolation before Desolation tries to take him out.

Creed is to his feet and pulls Desolation to his and throws him to the ropes. Desolation bounces as Creed charges and drives a knee into Desolation’s gut as he bounces off the ropes. Desolation is flipped over Creed’s knee and lands on his back, cradling his gut. Creed steps over to Desolation and stomps him in the back of the head. He puts Desolation in a sitting position before running to the ropes, bouncing off, and dropkicking Desolation in the back of the head. Desolation is grabbing the back of his head and trying to roll to the ropes, but Creed is already up and stomps him once again. Creed pulls Desolation to his feet from behind. TOTAL DOMINATION!!!! The fans are on their feet and cheering. Creed covers

NO! Desolation is close enough to the ropes to get his foot on the ropes. Creed looks down on Desolation and pulls him up to his feet. Desolation grabs Creed by the arm steps out and pulls Creed into him, steps aside, inverted tilt-a-whirl, Wyvern Driver II! Desolation pulls Creed over on his back and lays on top of him. Looking into Desolation’s eyes you can see that he is completely dazed and barely knows where he is.

Mayne: HAHA!! Out of nowhere, an almost John Cena turnaround. The difference is that Desolation actually has the skill and the real ring presence to pull it off. No Vince McMahon politics to give Desolation a win here tonight.

Douglas: Creed was so close twice to taking out the Dark Man and winning this match, but Desolation with his Wyvern Driver II beats Nathan Creed here tonight.

Desolation rolls from the ring and falls against the ring railing and grabs his head. He looks in the ring seething at Nathan Creed. Desolation staggers around the ring to the time keeper’s table and grabs a chair. He throws it into the ring and rolls back in.

Douglas: Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me. Mayne: Creed is going to pay the piper now tonight. The ref steps in front of Desolation and warns him. Desolation grabs the ref by the throat and throws him over the top rope. Desolation kicks the chair into the middle of the ring and looks down on Creed. He picks the chair up and unfolds it and sets it up. He pulls Creed up and lifts him over his shoulder and looks at the chair. He charges, jumps, and powerslams Creed into the chair and crushes Creed through it. Pieces of the chair break off and bounce around the ring.

Douglas: You’ve got to be kidding me.

Mayne: I think Desolation is out to end the career of Nathan Creed here tonight. Cruze couldn’t do it with a car and I think Desolation is trying to one up Orlando Cruze now.

Douglas: Now you know damn well that’s not what’s going on at all.

Nathan Creed is still trying to get up while Desolation keeps on the assault, battering him with stomps and clubbing blows over the back repeatedly. The fans are all vocalizing their pure hatred for Desolation the longer this unprovoked assault proceeds.

Douglas: Oh come on, would somebody get out here and stop this bullshit!?!

Mayne: Desolation again brutalizing his opponent after the match, making him pay for attempting to actually put up some competition. Which is very justifiable, since it’s always a forgone conclusion that Desolation is going to be victorious anyway.

A very intense Desolation grabs Nathan around the back of the head and the tights, dragging him to his feet then charging him across the ring, throwing him through the ropes, shoulder first right into the exposed steel turnbuckle post. Creed bounces into it hard, before yelling in agony only for the Dark Man to approach him and take hold of the back of Nathan’s trunks and his hair, dragging him away from the corner. He bends him forward and charges him at the corner before throwing him through the cables shoulder first into the exposed post once more, the fans really booing at this point, outraged by what they are seeing. Desolation reaches through the cables, grabbing hold of Nathan’s hair, dragging him backwards as Creed falls to a knee, gripping at his shoulder, barely able to stand at this point, yet the Dark Man isn’t through with his prey. He seems to be taking great joy in dismantling the Future when “Unbreakable” by Bon Jovi hits the PA system, causing Desolation to pause what he’s doing. His eyes suddenly cut to the entry way with that same chilling glare he directed at Robin earlier in the evening. His features tremble but not from fear, maybe not even anger, as through the curtains emerges the N.H.B Champion himself Jon Rich. He glares straight at the ring into the features of Desolation, who lets go of Nathan, allowing him to drop onto his back as his victim continues to grip at his shoulder. The fans are going nuts at the sight of Rich who makes his way straight towards the ring, his new title belt hanging from one palm with a mic in the other while Desolation’s cold eyes are focused on him entirely.

Mayne: Uh oh, I do believe this is the last person who should be coming out here when Desolation is feeling particularly homicidal.

Douglas: Rich showing no fear whatsoever by coming out here to step into that ring with Desolation and stop this heinous attack that’s being perpetrated against Nathan Creed. These two clashed several times on the last Riot!, so I shudder to think of what is going to happen here now between them.

Billy: Rich is going to become just another victim to the Dark Man, mark my words.

Desolation tilts his head, glaring at Rich as he slips through the cables into the ring, thrusting his title over his shoulder. A slight smirk has come to the face of the former World Heavyweight Champion, baffled as to why Rich would have the courage to enter the ring with him, especially based off of what transpired just last week during that gauntlet match. Jon stares a hole into Desolation and then steps up right into his face, the fans cheering loudly, everyone getting to their feet as both the Dark Man and the N.H.B Champion stand eye to eye. Neither man is backing down and the crowd seems genuinely impressed that Rich has the gumption to stand up to one of the most feared icons in the IWC. Desolation doesn’t look fearful over Jon’s bravado though, he just keeps standing there with a far off gaze captured in his eyes as Rich slowly lifts a microphone to his lips, not deviating his attention from the Alpha Generation member whatsoever.

Jon: Desolation, I’m not here to give a big long speech, I’m here to say one thing and I’m going to cut straight to the point. You, me, one on one, right now!

Rich flings his new title belt down at the canvas then steps even closer to Desolation, his eyes wide and filled with intensity. The fans explode at the prospect of this match going down right now, Desolation vs. Jon Rich.

Douglas: What a bold challenge from Jon Rich, he wants Desolation, the most dangerous man in the IWC, one on one right here, and right now.

Mayne: I think Jon needs to take a few AA classes because it’s quite clear his brain has been diminished by years of alcohol abuse or something. No one openly challenges Desolation, nobody.

Desolation tilts his head to glare sternly into the face of Rich, who is still not backing down and appears just as intense as ever. Jon lifts the mic back to his lips, shaking almost at the thought of finally getting his hands on Desolation in a one on one setting.

Rich: You think I’m afraid of you Desolation? Do you think that just because you beat down your opponents after your matches like a spoilt brat, that no one’s going to stand up to you? Well your wrong, dead wrong. I don’t fear the Dark Man, I don’t fear you Desolation. I see through your exterior, I see you for what you really are. Your frightened Desolation, your trembling in your boots just standing in this ring with me.

A wide grin comes to Desolation’s face yet his eyes fail to be removed from the very serious expression of Rich.

Jon: Prove me wrong Desolation, face me right here, right now!

Jon continues to shake due to the rage rushing through his body, remembering exactly how Desolation cost him his shot at the World title just last week. The smile on Desolation’s face continues to widen before he reaches out and snatches the microphone from Jon’s palm, the crowd greatly anticipating his response. Desolation lowers his head a bit to get a better view of Rich’s face while slowly lifting the microphone to his lips. Jon is standing on pins and needles as he awaits his reply.

Desolation: Let’s get this straight, you want me one on one tonight?

Another loud explosion of cheers spring up from the crowd while Rich nods his head anxiously. Desolation looks back and forth at the fans for a moment before grinning widely once more as he turns back towards Rich.

Desolation: Then my answer is…..NO!

The reaction from the crowd changes abruptly to boos as Rich’s features become even more intense, his flesh transforming to a bright red shade.

Mayne: Hahaha, that’s right, you tell him Desolation, your only forced to wrestle one match against an undeserving opponent every week.

Douglas: Oh come on, I wouldn’t go as far as to say that Desolation is afraid of Rich, so I have to guess that he’s playing with Jon’s head by not giving him what he wants.

Desolation lowers the microphone from his diabolical smile only long enough to get a good view of the intense features of Rich, who is still trembling in anger.

Desolation: Why should I face you Rich, because you come into the ring and get into my face? That doesn’t impress me, not in the slightest. What impresses me is if you were capable of beating opponents of actual merit. Thus far you’ve only defeated guys who would barely even make me break a sweat if I were to compete against them. You’ve done nothing to earn or deserve a match against me, you’ve accomplished that would make the Dark Man wish to turn you into a star. Your still a nobody Rich, and I don’t make something out of nothing.

He releases the microphone and steps backwards towards the ropes, all the while not removing his eyes from Rich, who continues to return the chilling stare. The fans are booing more and more while Desolation slips half way through the ropes, placing one foot on the apron then lifting the microphone to his lips one last time.

Desolation: Oh, but Jon, if you actually want a challenge, maybe you’ll get one from the guy standing behind you.

Before Rich can even spin around he’s blindsided with a clubbing blow to the back of the head and shoulders by the World Champion Hurse. The reaction from the crowd becomes even louder, as their negativity escalates, Hurse stepping to Rich’s side and stomping at him repeatedly. Desolation re-enters the ring, approaching Rich and beginning to stomp away at him as well, the Alpha Generation assaulting the upstart N.H.B Champ.

Douglas: Oh come on, Desolation won’t agree to a match with Jon, but he will take the time to beat him down.

Mayne: Just because Rich is deserving of a beat down, doesn’t mean he’s deserving of a match against the Dark Man, hahaha.

Desolation and Hurse continue to stomp away at Rich, who is trying his best to get to his feet. As soon as he starts to though, Desolation bends down, grabbing him around the jaw to hold his head up then slapping him viciously across the side of the face. Jon is knocked onto his back, laid out completely by the slap while Hurse continues to stomp at him that’s when the fans go nuts, everyone jumping to their feet as the War Angel Chapel comes rushing from the backstage area. He’s still a bit sweaty after that 3 way tag but rushes nevertheless at the ring, Desolation and Hurse turning to spot the Cartel Champion charging right at them.

Dan: Here comes the War Angel, the number one contender for Hurse’s World Heavyweight title!

Mayne: Why doesn’t he keep to himself, and stay out of the Alpha Gen’s business? Everyone’s got bigger noses than Triple H in this company, and bigger egos.

As Chapel begins to slide into the ring almost on cue the Champion and the Dark Man vacate, diving through the ropes and landing on their feet on the outside mats. Chapel stands up straight, marching back and forth across the ring and not taking his eyes off the World Champion, who is merely smiling from ear to ear in the direction of the next challenger for his title. Desolation pats Hurse on the shoulder and motions for him to follow as both men begin to move around the ring towards the ramp when suddenly Chapel snatches the microphone off the canvas, lifting it to his lips with quickness.

Chapel: Where the hell do you think your going Hurse!?!

Chapel leans against the ropes nearest the ramp, glaring straight at Hurse whose eyes have shifted to the squared circle abruptly. The smile and the confidence begins to fade from his face.

Chapel: The way I see it, I already got my little exhibition out of the way tonight, now it’s time for my real match. I’m free, and since Pat Evans is insignificant so are you. I say why wait for a title match, let’s do this right now!

The War Angel features are twisted into a terrifying pose while Hurse swallows deeply, a noticeable gulp forming in his throat which he has trouble pushing down into the pit of his stomach. He backs up the ramp to create more space between himself and Chapel while the crowd is screaming loudly, Jon rising to his knees and glaring to the outside of the ring, enjoying the sound of this.

Mayne: What the hell? Everyone’s challenging everyone? Matches thrown this way and that? Everyone thinking they have the power to book matches? This is anarchy, anarchy!

Dan: How many times do I have to tell you to lay off the sugar, Billy. But this is indeed another huge, huge challenge thrown out from Chapel, will Hurse bite and give us that World title match right here, and right now?

Hurse seems far too terrified to give into Chapel’s challenge before Desolation steps to his side, beginning to converse with the World Champion. A slight smirk comes to the face of the Master of Control before he chuckles and looks back towards the War Angel in the ring, shouting loud enough to be heard.

Hurse: Hell NO!

Laughter comes from Hurse while Desolation glares into the ring at both Chapel and Rich with the utmost seriousness. The boos from the fans are almost deafening, yet Chapel only seems to smile, which adds to Rich’s bewilderment.

Douglas: Why won’t Hurse grow a set of hairy testicles and fight Chapel?

Mayne: He’s already got a match against Pat Evans tonight.

Dan: Some match, Pat has already shown himself to be an Alpha Generation sympathizer.

Chapel continues to smirk, making the grin on Hurse’s face lessen more and more.

Chapel: You know, I thought you’d say something like that Hurse, I thought you’d run away with your tail between your legs. But don’t worry, one way or another, you will accept my challenge here tonight, because nothing is going to stop me from getting my hands around your throat!

The grin is replaced with a look of pure malice as Chapel throws the microphone down, his features twisting and contorting with rage. Sweat leaks down Hurse’s face while he steps backwards, Desolation patting him reassuringly on the shoulder and informing him that it won’t happen as both men continue to back up. They do so under the watchful gazes of both Chapel and Rich, while Nathan sits himself up in the corner behind them, gripping at his shoulder. Suddenly the crowd begins to cheer loudly as the Alpha Generation members back into Orlando Cruze standing on the stage behind them. He pushes his way between them then turns to gaze into the faces of both Desolation and Hurse, who are watching with confused expressions. Their bewilderment turns into snide glares in the direction of the Icon who backs down the ramp, continuing to stare in both men’s directions. He knows he’s got to be on his best behavior tonight before turning back towards the ring.

Mayne: Now Orlando is coming out here? When will the madness end?

Douglas: I don’t know, but we’ve got to go to commercial break, maybe we’ll have some of these issues resolved.

The show fades into commercial as Orlando makes his way to the ring, Chapel and Rich vacating it and leaving only Nathan seated in the corner.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

COMING SOON TO DVD

S.K S.K S.K S.K S.K

Riot! returns live to the ring where Orlando Cruze is located, marching back and forth with a very disgruntled expression on his features, a microphone clutched in his hand. The fact that he was restricted from coming to Creed’s aid is greatly weighing on his mind, distressing him more than the actual attack that was perpetuated by Desolation. With the exception of Creed who is standing up with the assistance of the turnbuckle, still bent forward gripping at the back of his neck, everyone else has vacated the ringside area, no signs of Jon Rich, Chapel, or the Alpha Generation. This allows Orlando march back and forth effortlessly but locking his eyes on the entry way all the while, a microphone tightly gripped in the palm of his hand.

Dan: Welcome back to the IWC ladies and gentlemen, and as you can see the Icon Orlando Cruze has yet to vacate the ring since all that chaos at ringside before we went to commercial break.

Mayne: There was almost a riot out here ironically on Riot!

Douglas: That was clever, been working on that throughout the commercial break?

Billy: For the good majority of it yes.

Continuing to storm across the ring Orlando maintains his gaze upon the entry way, raising the microphone slowly towards his lips.

Orlando: Some of you may be wondering why I’m still out here, huffing and puffing in this ring. You might be thinking I’m out here because I desire nothing more than to get my hands on my former mentor, and the World Heavyweight Champion for the attack they just committed against Nathan. That might be true to an extent, but payback against the Alpha Generation can wait, I got more pressing matters on my mind, and I’m sure it’s the same for Nathan.

Cruze briefly glances over his shoulder at Nathan who gives a respectful nod, insinuating that he holds much of the same opinion as his tag team partner. This seems to increase the Icon’s passion as he turns to face the entry way, squeezing the mic a little tighter than before.

Cruze: Over the past couple of months Nathan and I have dealt with something a little more serious than an occasional attack from the Alpha Generation, no, no, we’ve been faced with something, or should I say someone, a little more important. We’ve had some nutcase calling himself S.K, trying his best to break up our tag team, attempting to drive a wedge between us and in the process ruin our lives. I’ve had a crate pushed into my ribs giving me an injured mid-section that still hasn’t fully healed, and on top of that I was framed and almost incarcerated for a crime I didn’t commit. Nathan was even almost killed by a driver who stole my car and tried to run him over to set me up. So now I stand out here to say the fun has come to an end, this isn’t a game, and neither Nathan nor I are going to play along anymore. We’ve had enough, we’re through having our names run through the muck and our lives toyed with…..

Mayne: Oh boohoo, poor little Lando is sick of being mistreated, when isn’t he bitching and complaining?

Douglas: I think you’ve got Orlando confused with yourself again, Billy. I think it’s about time that both Orlando and Creed are standing here in the ring side by side united against whoever this S.K bastard is.

Nathan’s eyes are full of intensity while they glare at the swaying curtains, waiting for someone to emerge, prepared for just about anything. He steps towards the equally as passionate Orlando, standing side by side.

Orlando: S.K, Nathan and I are here to tell you that you’ve failed in your attempts to break us up, to force us apart. We’re here right now in the ring, side by side telling you that your mind games, your tricks were meaningless. We see through your ploys, and if what you’ve done is the worse of what you’ve got in store for us, Nathan and I say it’s time to give it up. No more hiding, S.K, no more repeating your initials to the point that it gets nauseating. If you want to make an impact at our expense then stop lurking in the shadows playing mind games and come to this ring to face us like a man with an actual set of balls!

That last phrase, spoken with true conviction, are the last words uttered by the Icon who flings the microphone down at the canvas. Orlando slaps Nathan on the shoulder and Creed pats him on the back as both men glare towards the entry way with intensity brewing in their eyes. They clinch their knuckles, Orlando saying their peace and hoping it will be enough to drawl out S.K who was apparently already present at tonight’s event. Suddenly a shrill laughter comes through the PA system, followed by a condescending woman’s voice.

Hahahaha, having a set of balls might be a bit of trouble sweetheart.

Orlando and Nathan perk up, the voice sounding chillingly familiar to them as static suddenly overtakes the big screen, pulling their eyes towards it.

Douglas: What in the world is going on here?

Mayne: I don’t have a clue, is S.K a tranny?

Every eye in the building is settled on the big screen as a beating heart materializes through the static. The veins pulsate on its bloody red surface, a heart monitor signal shown over top of it, with several jagged peaks. The muscle beats faster and faster in conjunction with each spike in the signal, before finally ending up as one long flat line. The heart on the screen is suddenly squeezed within a massive palm, with long nails digging into the tissue, causing blood to flow outward from within. It spills through the cracks of the fingers into a bloody pool of crimson liquid. The camera lowers to examine the pool, even going beneath it before the river of claret transforms into a bright red rose. It stands up on its stem before the petals begin to be ripped off, a female’s voice heard in the background.

He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me, he loves me not…

Each petal is ripped off and sent falling off screen before the flower withers into a black mass, crumbling over and dying. That’s when the sound of typing fingers can be heard once more, words appearing over the decayed flower and the broken heart.

THERE IS NO VENGEANCE IN HELL GREATER THAN A WOMAN’S SCORN!

Both Orlando and Creed step towards the ropes, watching even closer as everything on the big screen begins to move in reverse. All the images that were just played are rewound right back to the beginning with the beating heart taking up the forefront of the camera, before the sounds of a razor slicing through flesh can be heard. They form the letters “S.K” in the surface of the heart before the pulsating mass of tissue vanishes, leaving only the glowing letters at the forefront of the screen. Suddenly the initials begin to separate, a great space now being provided between them when words begin to form after each letter. Nathan is shaking his head in disbelief while Orlando’s eyes are widened with shock at the sight of the words, “Sallie & Krissie,” written across the big screen. Gone Forever by Three Days Grace hits the PA system as the fans start to boo as loudly as they can at the sight of both Sallie and Krissie McMorris strolling through the curtains and onto the stage with their arms around one another’s lower backs, dressed rather fashionably for such an occasion.

Douglas: No, no freaking way this is happening! Sallie and Krissie, the ex girlfriends of both Cruze and Creed were S.K?

Mayne: I’m speechless, and that’s never happened to me before.

Douglas: We haven’t seen either of these women in years, ever since they were kicked to the curb by Orlando and Nathan respectfully.

Seductive smiles are present on both ladies faces while they stare towards their former boyfriends in the ring, one of their arms still around the other’s waist and microphones gripped in their free hands. The fans are booing and looking on in shock at the sight of both ladies, as our both Creed and Cruze, while the lyrics of Gone Forever start to dissipate in the background. Sallie puts her fingers over her lips and acts as if she just did something really bad before putting on a cruel smile. Krissie waves one little finger in the direction of the fans while shooting them a vindictive glare. Finally McMorris kicks her hair back and lifts the microphone to her lips.

Krissie: Well now, surprised to see us boys?

The Icon and the Future are staring coldly in the direction of their smiling ex girlfriends, who find their presence almost astonishing.

Krissie: We thought you might be a little shocked….

Sallie: Especially considering after you abandoned us, you probably thought you’d never have to see us again, right? Hahaha.

Nathan is shaking his head as he reaches down snatching the microphone out of the palm of Orlando’s hand, stepping towards the cables.

Creed: What’s the meaning of this? Why are you two….

Krissie: No, there will be none of that. Boys in the back, cut their mic right now.

Krissie turns towards the back and slips her fingers across her throat, demanding that the house microphone be cut off. A confused Creed tries to talk but his mic now seems to be powerless, bewildering him even more. This entices Orlando to take hold of the device and see if he can make it work only for his shoulders to sink as he realizes that it’s truly been cut out. Their dismay greatly amuses both ladies located on the stage, Sallie lifting the microphone to her pouting lips once more.

Sallie: Now hold on a second, how did we just do that, Krissie? How did a couple of worthless girls who were left for dead by people they thought loved them, have the power to boss around the production staff?

Feigning confusion McMorris scratches at the back of her head, tilting it while trying to understand. She suddenly shrugs her shoulders, not sure how to respond, Sallie also trying to act befuddled.

Krissie: You know, I don’t think Orlando nor Creed have a clue, why don’t you explain it to them Sallie?

Sallie: I’d be honored dear. But should we start from the beginning?

Krissie: I think that be for the best sweety.

Dan: This is confusing the hell out of me.

Mayne: If I weren’t incredibly smarter than you, I’d be right there as well.

Orlando and Creed seem to be growing anxious in the ring, not liking this developing situation one little bit as they scowl in the direction of their lovely ex girlfriends. Sallie wraps her arm around the back of Krissie’s shoulders, pulling her curvaceous frame against her own.

Sallie: Krissie is right, she’s always right, just like when she came and found me all those months ago in that hospital you dumped me in Orlando. You know, that asylum you abandoned me in after you allowed Shinzan Valfane to torture me endlessly and transform me into the deranged little Feral? Don’t tell me you forgot how you sat on your hands and did nothing while I was tormented week after week by him, but then what happened after you beat Shinzan and got me back? Did you even bother to help me then? Did you try and fix the damage Shinzan had done to my mind? Of course not, you left me in a hospital and moved on with your life to have some little bastards and fuck some cheating skank. You didn’t care about what happened to me, I was too much of an inconvenience to your super stardom. You broke my heart, and you basically left me for dead, being poked and prodded with no care at the hands of doctor after doctor. Just like always you didn’t care Cruze, you’ve never cared about anyone besides yourself. But someone did care about me, as unbelievable as you may find that, there was someone who gave a crap about Sallie, and her name is Krissie McMorris.

Sallie pulls Krissie in a little closer to her and seems to take a sniff of her long, beautiful hair. All the while Orlando watches on from the ring with a bit of a lowered head and a mixture of shame and malice in his eyes.

Sallie: Unlike you Cruze, Krissie didn’t give up on me. She came and she got me out of that hospital. She understood what put me there in the first place, not Shinzan, but your lack of concern, your lack of love, Orlando. She could relate because that bastard you team with treated her the same way.

The features of Creed tense up while he glares up the entry way in outrage.

Sallie: She was mistreated and never shown the love she deserves because Creed was too busy trying to live out his perfect little existence, what his family thought was more important to him than the affection of a beautiful woman. Krissie was a lady who had been there with him through thick and thin, a woman who had never given up on him, and then what did he do when Psycho came into his life? He got rid of her, he broke her heart and didn’t care what happened to her afterwards. But just like her, I care about Krissie, I care about what happens to her, which is why the two of us stand side by side looking into the black hearts of two bastards who gave up on us. Just like all the men in our lives.

A blushing smile comes to Krissie’s face before she turns towards Sallie and plants a kiss on her cheek, the sight of this truly disgusting both Creed and Cruze, who are growing a little more angry by the second.

Mayne: Uh huh, Dan, I think I need to go to the bathroom for a moment.

Dan: Believe me, the last thing you want to do is stand up right now Billy. I can’t believe the audacity of these two ladies, they’ve been playing with the lives of both Cruze and Creed for weeks and now they expect us to be sympathetic, please.

Krissie slowly lifts the microphone to her curled, smirking lips, staring a hole into her former lover Nathan, who shoots back the same penetrating stare.

Krissie: Well, not all men Sallie, remember there was one man who was kind enough to take us up on the offer we proposed to him. He’s a gentle, sweetheart of a man who gave us the means to exact our revenge against these two lowlifes in the ring. He’s such a noble, respectable man, who jumped at the chance to allow us to torment our exes until the point that they just about broke. He’s a man who gave us a chance, a man who didn’t give up on Krissie and Sallie like all the other male whores in our lives. But most importantly, he’s a man that you, Nathan and Orlando, will get to know quite well in the coming months when he decides to step forward and reveal himself, because he’s going to be your new boss.

Douglas: WHAT!?!

Mayne: Our mystery Boss is partially responsible for this whole S.K thing? This is getting slightly more intriguing by the moment.

Creed and Cruze give each other a doubting look, increasingly bothered by this as every second passes by. Their angst continues to amuse both ladies lurking on the stage.

McMorris: That’s right, your new Boss, and I guess I should say, our new Boss as well, allowed us to do anything we wanted when it came to the two of you. And guess what boys, we’ll continue to do whatever we see fit with the both of you, and we have the power to do just that, sense we’ve officially been hired as the Boss’ personal assistants.

Sallie: So you may be asking yourselves, what does that mean for the two of you? Well, for one, it means that we’re also your new bosses….

Boos escalate from the crowd while Creed and Orlando mumble obscenities under their breath.

Krissie: And it also means, that your going to be in for a whole lot more of what your about to get…

Krissie looks at the expensive new watch around her wrist.

McMorris: Right about now.

Speculation abounds within the eyes of both men before Cruze is grabbed by the shoulder and spun around, Christian Savior jumping into the air and catching him around the neck, dragging him down into a diamond cutter. The fans react with absolute shock while Creed turns and gets caught right under the jaw with a running mafia kick from Adam Riddick.

Douglas: What the hell, Savior and Riddick attacking Cruze and Creed! Are Sallie and Krissie the people Christian was talking to on the phone earlier!?!

Mayne: I would have to imagine so.

The outrage from the fans continues to grow while Savior has crawled on top of Cruze, throwing fists repeatedly into his face while Riddick drags Creed to his feet, whipping him across the ring into the ropes. He bounces off and comes back into the shoulder of Riddick, who hoists him into the air then drives him down into the canvas with a brutal spinebuster slam. Nathan’s frame hits the ring hard while Savior steps back, motioning for Riddick to stand Cruze up. Adam rolls his eyes then steps towards the Icon, taking him around the neck and rolling him onto his knees before standing him up straight. He holds him there for a second before Savior comes barreling in with a huge spear directly to the Icon’s stomach. Orlando is almost flipped over, crashing onto his back across the canvas while Savior gets up, spitting downward at him. Sallie and Krissie are both smiling on the stage as they watch their ex boyfriends get physically dominated by Riddick and Savior. Finally with a chuckle Sallie lifts the microphone to her lips.

Susie: Oh, did I forget to mention, Orlando baby, your match with Savior, starts right now, ring the bell!

The bell chimes in the background with Christian grins widely.

Douglas: What!?! Orlando is no condition to compete!

Mayne: He’s in better condition than he’s been the past few weeks.

ORLANDO CRUZE VS. CHRISTIAN SAVIOR

Adam Riddick has hold of Nathan’s hair now, dragging his almost lifeless body to his feet then charging him at the cables before throwing him over to the outside of the ring. Creed flips over, crashing with force back first to the outside mats before sitting up, howling in pain. Riddick slips through the cables onto the outside of the ring on the opposite side of Creed, graciously vacating the ring so that this match can begin. Krissie and Sallie are marching to the backstage area, blowing kisses towards the ring while placing their arms around one another’s waists and strolling through the curtains as referee Alex Ingelson charges out of them. He bolts to the ring as Christian arrogantly covers Orlando, hooking his leg and yawning in the process. Ingelson slides in and begins to make a three count.

The fans begin to react with outrage before they spot Orlando’s shoulder shooting off the canvas, their reaction quickly changing. Christian sits up with a mildly angered expression while arguing with the official over the speed of his count. He stands up and with quickness delivers a leg drop across Orlando’s throat, causing the rest of his body to be launched upward into the air. The fans are still putting their hands together at the sight of the Icon’s defiance and refusal to be beaten even after taking two of Christian’s high impact moves.

Mayne: What the? Christian should have just had the victory there, he was robbed by some shady officiating, some shady officiating I tells ya.

Douglas: I doubt that, I think, no I know that Orlando is more determined now than ever to keep his shoulders from being pinned to the canvas.

Billy: The man is not Rudy, he’s not as inspirational, and he’s not as stout and chubby. That movie makes me cry, that poor fat little hobbit wanting to play football.

Christian doesn’t allow the kick out to bother him as he bounces off the ropes steps forward and once again launches himself into the air, folding his leg beneath him then extending it out to drop it once more to the Icon’s throat. Orlando immediately begins to go into convulsions after the impact before Savior rolls over backwards onto his feet. Somehow, by sheer instinct alone perhaps, Cruze begins to force himself to his feet, his eyes glossed over as he tries to force himself to his feet, Savior stepping in and delivering a hard stomping kick directly to the side of his head. Orlando is knocked through a loop as he falls onto his elbows, his eyes batting as he tries to get his head properly functioning after all the trauma that was inflicted on it in the attack before this match even began. Savior drops down to his elbows and knees in front of Cruze shouting disgraceful comments to him before he scoots forward and headbunts him lightly. The impact knocks the Icon down to his chest, trying to force himself up again before a laughing Christian crawls forward and headbunts him once more lightly. Orlando is knocked onto his back while Savior crawls forward to stare right down into his face.

Savior: Maybe you should have treated your lady a little better bitch!

Christian grabs hold of the little bit of hair present on the Icon’s head and pulls him up to his seat then charges backwards into the ropes, getting a running start. He bounces off the cables and comes charging back in then delivers a hard stomp directly to Orlando’s features. The shot knocks him over onto his spine while the crowd groans and boos Savior who steps to the side of Orlando, placing a single finger to one nostril then blowing snot from the unobstructed one downward right onto his dazed opponent. This causes the reaction from the fans to become even more harsh as Christian continues to physically dominate his dazed opponent thanks to the assault he got in on him before the match could start. To further press his advantage and continue dishing out pain Christian drops to his knees beside his laid out opposition, placing his hand to his throat, strangling him violently. Orlando gags horribly, kicking his legs while Ingelson steps in and starts a five count. He reaches four before Christian breaks the choke on Orlando’s throat and immediately begins jaw jacking with him once more.

Mayne: Hahaha, Savior talking shit while beating the shit out of him.

Douglas: This is a damn shame, a damn shame I must say. I was looking forward to seeing this match on the card tonight and instead all its become is a spectacle, an absolute spectacle.

Christian takes Orlando around the neck, dragging him over onto his knees then delivering a right hand to his forehead while he stands up in front of him. The Icon wavers back and forth before Christian punches him again straight to the face, then takes him around the back of the head, delivering fist shot after fist shot to the face of his dazed opponent. The blows almost cut Orlando open yet he remains on his knees, taking deep breaths, his eyes fluttering throughout the process. Christian then just shakes his head with a smile on his face before taking Orlando around the neck, dragging him up to his feet while turning his back towards him. He’s got a prone, almost lifeless Cruze in position for the diamond cutter before shouting out with a smirk on his face.

Christian: Say goodnight to your fucking hero!

Mayne: Well, Orlando lasted longer that I thought he would.

Douglas: That’s not saying much. But you can’t blame Orlando if he’s finished off here, you can’t take anything away from him based on that unprovoked attack before the match under the guise of those vindictive women, Sallie and Krissie.

Christian begins to charge forward only for Orlando to suddenly free his head, bending forward and burying his shoulder against his opponent’s spine. With wide eyes Savior is lifted into the air for a back drop suplex only to flip over and land on his feet behind Cruze, who spins to face him. An angry Savior shouts something inaudible before charging forward with a lariat right at his throat that Orlando ducks under though. Christian spins to face Orlando now and is caught around the waist, the Icon dropping back into a huge overhead belly to belly suplex. The force of the throw sends Christian flipping through the air, slamming back first into the canvas with force then sitting up, shouting at the top of his lungs in pain. The crowd is screaming at the sight of Orlando getting back into this match while Adam watches on from the outside of the ring, shaking his head. Savior rolls to his feet and then charges forward at a slowly rising Orlando only to eat a back elbow directly to the face that takes him right back down to the canvas. Christian rolls to his elbows and knees, getting to his feet and then swallowing a right hand directly to the mush, knocking him onto his spine once more, Orlando almost falling over in the process. He stabilizes himself for a moment, trying to get his wobbly legs beneath him while Savior gets up and charges into another hard right hand across the face that sends him crashing right back down to the canvas. The fraudulent holder of the X-Class title rolls to his elbows and knees before being taken by the hair and led up to his feet by an angry, almost deranged Orlando who is now full of passion. He charges Christian across the ring, pulling back on his head then launching him down face first into the top turnbuckle pad. Christian bounces off and staggers backwards before Cruze grabs him by the hair once more, driving him face first into the top turnbuckle pad a second time.

The collision cause Savior to lean chest first against the top turnbuckle pad before he’s grabbed by the hair once more. Orlando drawls back on his cranium and launches him face first into the top turnbuckle pad once again, but doesn’t let go of his hair this time. Instead the Icon keeps pulling back on Savior’s head and slamming him face first into the turnbuckle over and over and over, the crowd counting along with each hard impact before finally Cruze lets him go. Savior spins around with a dazed, groggy glint in his eyes as he falls against the corner, his arms tumbling over the cables. As soon as he does Orlando gives Savior the finger and then delivers a hard right hand directly across his face. The hard shot knocks Christian off his feet and causes him to crash back first onto the canvas, falling with his spine against the corner. Orlando turns away from him looking out over the fans who are all cheering as loudly as they can at the sight of the intensity mixed with grogginess in his eyes.

Douglas: I have no idea how Orlando is willing himself to do this, but I am amazed by this effort he is displaying here even after the brutality inflicted on him physically and mentally as well.

Mayne: All of this is of Orlando’s own making though Dan, he brought this all on himself with the way he threw Sallie to the curb. If he had cared about her none of this would be happening right now.

A very dazed, almost incoherent Savior is dragging himself up to his feet in the corner, grasping hold of the cables to assist himself to a standing base. He’s having just as much trouble standing as Orlando though, who turns to face him on shaky knees then comes charging in with a burst of speed. Before he can connect with anything Savior gets his foot up into the air, driving it right into Orlando’s face, the collision causing Cruze to be staggered, stumbling in reverse. After bracing himself he charges forward again only for Savior to lift his legs into the air and wrap them around Cruze’s neck, leaning back first against the turnbuckle in the process. He seems to be setting for a leg scissors out of the corner but the Icon places his hands to the back of his thighs, pushing up on them. This causes Savior to flip up and over the ropes, twisting so that he lands on his feet upon the apron. Cruze quickly charges forward only for Christian to drive his shoulder through the cables directly into his gut. A loud groan comes from Orlando who doubles over, staggering backwards right as Savior grabs the top rope and begins to pull himself over for some type of big high flying move. As soon as he drags his upper half over the top cable Cruze lunges into the air and delivers a vicious European Uppercut directly to Christian’s face causing the fans to groan loudly. The collision knocks Savior down out of the air and causes him to land spine first on the apron, crashing off of it then spilling to the outside mats.

The fans are still groaning over the stiff uppercut to Christian’s face as he lies on the mats, trying to get his head straight, Riddick shouting at him to get up and re-enter the ring already. A very dazed former three time World Champion leans against the cables for support, trying to recuperate himself while Savior takes hold of the apron, trying to drag himself to his feet. That last impact almost knocked him out though while Cruze bends through the cables taking hold of Savior’s hair. With all his strength he drags Christian up onto the apron and then begins to stand him up in order to lock him in a front chancery. As soon as he starts to lock him in this position in order to get him over into a suplex perhaps Savior reaches out, digging his fingers into his eyes. After raking them the long time IWC star shouts out in pain and covers his face, bending forward as he turns his side towards the cables, Christian grabbing the top rope and pulling himself over. He transitions his body in mid-air in order to bury his knees into Orlando’s chest, wrapping his hands around the back of his head and pulling him down into a double knees right to the sternum as well as the face. After hitting them the Icon flies backwards, crashing hard into the canvas and then rolling over in reverse onto his elbows and knees. He tries to push himself up to his feet while remaining in a crawling position, Christian getting to his feet with his back to the ropes and then rushing forward. He hits the opposite cables then runs at the Icon, stepping onto his back and stomping down at the rear of Cruze’s noggin before landing on his feet in front of him. Orlando’s face hits the canvas and then he pops up onto his knees as Savior turns to face him and rushes forward into a shinning wizard directly to his skull.

Mayne: Ohh, what a high impact series of moves directed at Orlando’s skull, one brutal blow to the head after another.

Douglas: Although I can’t condone the way Savior has sold his soul to a couple of seductive she-devils and the way this match has gotten started, I have to give the man props for his deadly way of mixing and matching various wrestling styles.

Orlando is out cold as Christian turns, crawling into the cover on him, hooking his leg.

Using all his strength the Icon shoots his shoulder from the canvas, turning away from Christian who then spins around, planting his hands and knees to the canvas. He eyes the back of Orlando’s skull with great anger, waiting, sizing him up for just he right opportunity. All the while Orlando starts to force himself up to his feet as he operates on fumes, the few vapors of hope and determination that remain within his soul. The fans are rallying behind him, all of them cheering on Cruze as he gets closer and closer to his feet, yet others are begging him to stay down as Savior urges him on with upward thrust of his outstretched palm. Finally, after much duress Orlando reaches his feet and turns despondently in the direction of Christian who turns, beginning to jump into the air and catch him around the neck for his version of the diamond cutter. That’s when Orlando places his hands to his back and shoves him off, sending him charging across the ring. Christian turns around, hitting the ropes spine first then comes charging back in at Orlando, throwing a lariat at him only to be caught across his chest. The fans begin to go nuts as Orlando sets up for the Rock Bottom only to be elbowed to the back of the head several times by a desperate opponent. The shots cause Orlando’s attempt at one of his high impact trademarks to be stopped as he now bends forward, Savior catching him around the neck in a front chancery and hoisting him into the air before dropping back into a huge impaler DDT. The fans react with shock as the top of the Icon’s head slams viciously into the canvas, flipping over sideways onto his back. Christian turns and crawls into the cover, hooking both of his legs as Ingelson drops, making the quick count the saddened fans chanting along.

Orlando shoots his shoulder from the canvas to a huge eruption of cheers from the fans. Savior sits up, his eyes burning with hatred, steam almost rising forth from his focused pupils.

Mayne: Dammit, dammit, dammit I thought for sure Savior had it won right there with that big DDT dropping Orlando right on the very top of his head.

Douglas: That could have broke Cruze’s neck, yet he’s still fighting it out to the very best of his abilities. I don’t know how he’s keeping this up to be honest with you, the man has to have like three hearts or something.

Billy: Just like those aliens from Alien Nation.

Dan: Um, yeah, sure.

Cruze turns away from Savior who quickly scoots up behind him and locks his arms about his neck in a rear naked choke. Savior sits him all the way up on his posterior so as to properly get the submission locked in, forcing much more pressure on his groggy opponent’s neck. Orlando’s face begins to flush red almost immediately as Savior really clamps his arms about Cruze’s neck. He stands up behind him and leans down into the sleeper as to further apply pressure on the hold, Orlando’s face now transforming to a variety of different hues and shades. Saliva drips from the corner of Cruze’s neck, his eyes fluttering as they fight to stay open.

Mayne: Well, even though we’ve decided that Cruze has multiple hearts he’s still only got one brain, and it’s not very big to begin with and now all the air is being cut off to that tiny piece of tissue.

Douglas: Orlando is indeed quickly fading here in the rear naked choke perfectly applied by Savior who is putting all his weight down into the neck.

Orlando’s neck seems to be almost getting broken in this position as Savior twists and turns at it with determination in his eyes. Christian drops down and briefly slams his knee into the lower back of Orlando throughout the process while twisting at the head a little more. An almost demonic expression and grin has come to Christian’s features while he continues to clamp onto the rear naked choke, Orlando’s face drenched with sweat at this point. Adam is glaring into the ring as well, hoping Orlando gives up as to stop the pain that is being inflicted on him, obviously not enjoying the sight of what he is seeing whatsoever. The crowd is screaming as they try to rally behind Orlando and get him up to his feet, yet he can’t do it as he’s being mangled with this submission hold. The referee starts to step in order to check on his condition, reaching down to grab his wrist, lifting it up into the air and then allowing it to drop to Orlando’s side. Suddenly it launches up into the air again though, Cruze refusing top stay down, already starting to force himself up to his feet. He seems to be feeding off the energy from the crowd, who is solidly behind him, trying their best to motivate the Icon to reach a standing base, which is exactly what he’s doing. Orlando finally stands up as Savior continues to clamp his arms tightly about his neck, really squeezing at his neck to the point is almost implodes like a pimple. Just as it appears that Orlando is on the verge of losing all his energy and hope he grabs hold of one of the arms crossed in front of his throat and drops sideways towards the canvas. He connects with a modified arm drag of sorts, flipping Savior forward into a roll across the canvas.

Christian turns onto his elbows and knees while Orlando gets to his feet in front of him, charging forward as he tries to capitalize on his momentum. Just as he comes charging in Savior springs to his feet then into the air, dropkicking his opponent directly to his face. The collision knocks the Icon off his feet and down to the canvas across his back while Savior lands on his elbows and knees, quickly crawling into the cover on his dazed opposition. He buries his elbow into his face for further leverage.

Orlando shoots his shoulder off the canvas in the nick of time, avoiding a pinfall from Savior who begins to slap his palms to the canvas repeatedly. He seems very flustered by Orlando’s repeated kick outs, rising to his feet very slowly then taking his opponent around the neck, sitting him up and slapping on another rear naked choke hold. Savior really has it clamped on this time, attempting to severe Orlando’s head from his neck. All the blood is rushing straight to Orlando’s face as it becomes a bright shade of red all over again, transforming to a variety of different colors. He is still not out cold though, remaining seated up as sweat streams down his features, refusing to be bested in this submission. His eyes are full of determination as he tries to force himself up to his feet, attempting to get them beneath him. Before he can get up though, Savior intensifies his grip on the rear naked choke, causing Cruze to again land on his posterior. All the air is being driven from his skull as his face has turned a sickening shade of purple, Christian finding himself closer and closer to forcing his strong opponent to pass out. Orlando is trying his best not to give him that satisfaction, still overwhelmed with emotions after what his eyes have witnessed this evening. He’s more motivated than ever, but the same can’t be said for his physically exhausted and battered body. Sweat cascades down his purple cheeks and spills onto his wrecked frame as Christian grits his teeth, really putting all his pressure into the submission.

Billy: Okay, the first time he got out of this hold was slightly acceptable, if he gets out of the rear naked choke again it be a damn miracle, a miracle I say.

Douglas: It might very well be after all the physicality his frame has endured at the hands of Christian Savior.

The eyes of Savior are ablaze with animosity as he really establishes this rear naked choke, finding himself greatly pleased the further Cruze comes to fainting. However, Orlando would rather die than pass out and allow Christian the victory, his frame just too weak to keep up with his spirit unfortunately. His eyes flutter before coming to a close as the crowd watches on with shame, realizing that Cruze’s time has finally come to an end. Official Ingelson steps in and takes hold of his arm, lifting it up into the air then letting go as it falls limply to his side. Ingelson turns, lifting one finger into the air and aiming it at the time keeper before turning back towards the Icon, grasping hold of his wrist a second time. He lifts it up into the air with everyone intrigued and then lets go, allowing it to fall to Cruze’s side as a second time. Christian’s maniacal grin widens as the Icon is just a few seconds away from losing this contest. Finally Ingelson steps in with the crowd buzzing, begging him to get up, to fight through this as he his arm is taken hold of one last time. Its lifted high into the air as far as it can be extended from the shoulder and released for a third time. Everyone finds themselves screaming as the arm tumbles towards the canvas then shoots defiantly back into the air to much applause. Riddick swipes his hand down his face on the outside of the ring, disgusted by what he’s witnessing as Savior’s features become overwhelmed with intensity. Exerting what remains of his energy, Orlando begins to force himself up to his feet, Christian shouting at the back of his head to stay down. Orlando won’t listen as he reaches his feet, getting both of them beneath him with his body drained, at the point of breaking apart, yet he somehow keeps his legs beneath him much to Christian’s dismay.

After much struggling the Icon now reaches up, grabbing hold of Christian’s arms and beginning to pry them from around his neck. Savior is shaking his head with dementia in his eyes as the arms are pulled further and further away from his throat, the crowd screaming as they try to endow the Icon with further strength. Orlando’s teeth are shinning through his lips while he forces the arms further and further away from his neck, his legs shaking beneath him, the fans slapping the barricade to create a loud rumble. As soon as both arms are pushed away from his neck Christian turns and drives a knee straight into the lower back of Orlando, causing him to drop to his knees and arch his spine, shouting out in agony. Savior now rushes into the ropes in front of Cruze, slapping his knee in the process for perhaps another big running boot as he comes back in at the kneeling Icon. Suddenly Orlando stands up though and catches Christian stomach first against his shoulder, hoisting him into the air and then driving him down to the canvas with a brutal spinebuster slam. Christian hits the ring with violent impact while Orlando rolls away from him an exhausted, almost broken specimen. Riddick appears outraged, shaking his head on the outside of the ring once more before shouting at Savior to stop toying around already.

Douglas: Orlando has done it, he’s freed himself again from the rear naked choke and then connected with a brutal spinebuster on Savior.

Mayne: That crafty son of a bitch, he’s only raising the ire of his new bosses the longer this match goes.

Orlando rolls into the cables, grabbing hold of them and utilizing them to drag himself to his feet. He gets both legs beneath him while Savior forces himself to a standing base, turning towards Orlando who suddenly rushes at him and connects with a hard lariat to this throat. Christian is knocked to the canvas before he goes into a roll, ending up on his feet only to walk right into Orlando who charges in and hits a huge back elbow directly to his face. The impact knocks him down to the canvas once more while Orlando spins away from him and then falls back first against the ropes for support. A wrecked Savior rolls over onto his knees, trying to stand up quickly only for Orlando to step in and place him in a front chancery, dragging him up to his feet then snapping over backwards into a vicious snap vertical suplex. Savior is driven hard into the ring, turning away from Cruze while reaching for his spine. The Icon sits up, sweating heavily and taking deep labored breaths before getting to his knees, Savior instinctively doing the same. As soon as both men get to their feet, their legs shaking beneath them, Cruze throws a right hand which connects to the side of Savior’s head. Christian is almost taken down before he steps in and pops Cruze across the chin with his own shot. Orlando now steps slightly to his side and chops Christian with such force that he’s staggered backwards. Cruze steps in and takes hold of his wrist, pushing him backwards into the cables then launching him off across the ring into the opposite set of ropes. A battered Christian bounces off the cables then comes rushing back in at a sweating Orlando who rushes forward into a lariat. Savior ducks the clothesline though then spins around, wrapping his arms around Orlando’s neck, trying to reapply the rear naked choke. Before he can get it established though, Orlando bends forward, sliding down to the side of Savior and lodging his head under his armpit. Cruze now lifts up on him, going for what almost appears to be an Olympic Slam only for Christian to slide off his shoulders at the last second, landing on his feet behind him. He grabs Cruze by the shoulder, spinning him around and then kicking him to the gut before placing him in a front chancery, setting for the impaler DDT again perhaps.

Suddenly Orlando spins his body out from under the arm of Christian, taking hold of his wrist and turning to face Savior, yanking on the arm to pull him forward. Savior throws a punch at Orlando’s face as he is dragged forward only to be caught across the chest. Cruze hoists Savior into the air then drives him down spine first into the canvas with the Rock Bottom to a huge explosion of cheers from the crowd.

Douglas: The Rock Bottom, the Rock Bottom by Cruze, he may have Christian finished off here!

Mayne: This is outrageous, absolutely outrageous, Orlando is not suppose to have anything left here.

Savior is out of it as Orlando crawls into the cover, hooking his leg desperately. Ingelson drops into the count with the fans cheering along loudly.

No! Christian shoots his shoulder from the canvas, Orlando sitting up with clear frustration and doubt lurking in his eyes. He swipes his hands over his sweating head and tries to come to terms with the fact that he didn’t just get the pinfall. Adam backs away from the ring and takes a deep breath with his palm over his heart, thankful that Orlando didn’t get the victory there. The fans are still screaming as Orlando forces himself up to his feet and takes hold of Savior’s hair, dragging upward on it. He grunts and grinds his teeth as he forces Savior up to his knees, trying his best to drag him to a standing base. Savior is nothing more than dead weight at this point before he’s finally forced onto his feet, Orlando taking him by the wrist and whipping him across the ring into the turnbuckle. Christian turns and hits the corner hard spine first, his arms falling over the cables with a very glazed over glint on his face. Orlando spins to face him, realizing he’s got him in perfect position to set him up for the In Control, his top rope twisting Rock Bottom, therefore he charges in with a great burst of speed only to be booted in the face once again. Christian countered desperately as Orlando staggers backwards, almost losing his footing until Savior turns his side towards him and steps out of the corner with a superkick aimed at the Icon’s face. Orlando ducks the superkick though, Savior staggering forward as a result behind his back. A quick Orlando spins to face Christian then charges forward right into a hard spear directly to his previously injured ribs. Cruze is taken off of his feet and sent launching back first into the canvas, Christian landing on his knees at his side. The fans are reacting with a tremendous ovation before Christian turns, crawling into the cover with quickness.

Mayne: And now Savior has connected with the Blaze of Glory! Put a spork in Orlando, he’s as overdone as that Polish food I ate this morning.

Douglas: After a spear that almost ripped him in half you might be correct in that assumption. And who uses a spork anymore?

Christian crawls into the cover and hooks Orlando’s leg with despair and hope battling in his eyes.

Now Cruze is the one who kicks out to the shock of everyone in the arena, Savior sitting up as he slips his hands into his hair, almost ripping it out over the fact that he didn’t achieve a pinfall victory just now.

Mayne: How on God’s green earth did Orlando just kick out of the Blaze of Glory?

Douglas: Again Orlando showing why he’s almost super human.

Christian turns onto his side while breathing heavily and shouts towards Adam, asking his brother to get him something. The request unsettles Riddick and makes him take a deep breath before turning to face at the time keeper. He shakes his head, not wanting to do it but then taking a deep breath as Savior shouts at him, begging his older brother to assist him. Finally Riddick makes his way towards the time keeper and grabs hold of the ring bell, lifting it into the air before starting towards the ring.

Douglas: Oh no, Riddick just grabbed the ring bell at the behest of Christian Savior. Don’t do this Riddick, don’t do this.

Mayne: It’s all about the money Dan, it’s all about the money, plus family or something like that.

Riddick begins to step towards the ring in order to hand Savior the ring bell when Nathan charges out of nowhere, spearing Adam to his gut. The newcomer is lifted off his feet and driven back first against the announce table as a still dazed Creed begins to slug him to the gut with closed fists. Riddick blasts him over the back with forearms, trying to fight him off while a shocked Christian rolls to the outside of the ring. He steps up behind Creed and begins to deliver forearm strikes on him as well, both the Renegade and Savior now double teaming the Future. The official has no other alternative but to call for the bell at this point, throwing this match out as Orlando begins to regain his sense, spotting what’s going on the outside of the ring, his partner being mugged.

Douglas: Oh dammit, the match being thrown out due to violence erupting at ringside.

Mayne: But Creed didn’t even put his hands on Savior, oh to hell with it, I’m not even going to try and make sense out of this anymore.

The fans start to erupt as a battered, hobbling Orlando drops to the outside mats and grabs Savior by the shoulder, spinning him around and throwing closed right fists directly into the side of his face. Savior is sent staggering backwards as Orlando continues to jab him to the face. Adam delivers forearm strikes to the side of Creed’s features before he responds with a knife edge chop to the sternum of the Renegade. Christian now drives his knee into Orlando’s ribs, bending him forward before he’s taken by the back of the head and charged at the barricade. However, the Icon reverses and grabs hold of Savior’s wrist, whipping him into the barricade spine first as a result. Christian hits the steel hard while Orlando steps in, slugging him repeatedly to the face. Security has come rushing from the back in full force while Riddick bends forward, burying his shoulder to Creed’s gut, shoving him backwards spine first into the apron. The impact causes Creed to crumble over the hard portion of the ring as Riddick staggers in reverse. That’s when Nathan bends down, charging forward and spearing Riddick, both men flying on top of the announce table with Creed crawling on top of the Renegade. He begins to punch him repeatedly to the face, the fans going absolutely nuts. Security runs in and grabs hold of Creed’s arms, prying him off of Riddick, forcing him away from a man who has quickly become a mortal enemy.

Mayne: I think we should be getting to higher ground.

Douglas: All out chaos erupting before our very eyes, Billy, and just a few inches away from our bodies as well. Both these teams are trying to absolutely decimate one another, and it’s all thanks to Sallie and Krissie, the assistants to our new boss.

Just as security begins to step in Savior moves away from the barricade, launching a fist into the side of Cruze’s head, causing him to stagger backwards. Savior steps forward and kicks Orlando to the gut before punching him to the face once more. Security finally steps between them, burying their shoulders to Savior’s and Orlando’s guts, forcing them apart. Both men are shouting at one another in great anger and outrage while Creed and Riddick do the same, their arms being pinned by a whole brigade of security personal. All four men’s faces are bright red as they shout and glare at one another, their tempers really flaring the more they’re separated from one another.

ALLIANCES

Your hurting me!

Good!

The ire of the fans is drawn as Pat Evans comes into the camera’s view, tugging on a chain that is bound to the cuffed wrists of Aurora. He drags on the long steel chain and forces Rose forward behind him as she tries to get free but just can’t do it, twisting and turning to try and free herself. A cold, emotionless, stoic Evans just tugs back on the chain every time she tries to free herself, causing the cuffs on her wrist to become tighter and for her to be dragged further forward. They continue to make their way towards the ring, with Pat’s match coming up in just a few short moments, where his technical prowess will surely be tested.

Aurora: Why are you doing this to me? Why don’t you just let me go?

Pat’s eyes, which display no emotion, turn blankly and settle on Rose who becomes quiet the second she is forced to stare into his bleak orbs.

Pat: You should know fully well why I’m doing this. Now shut your mouth or I’ll put the gag back down your throat.

His warning, although uttered with zero emotion, causes Aurora to become silent, her eyes lowering before Evans turns his attention back towards the end of the corridor. He begins to pull her along before he comes to an abrupt pause, his cheeks flexing as if he wishes to smile, but can’t force one to his face. Before his eyes now emerges one Axl Evermore strolling forward from the shadows, stepping forward while overlooking Evans slowly and methodically. That same Fully Loaded team jacket is wrapped around his body with the cap present on the top of his head as well. He continues to step towards Evans, overlooking him from head to toe before finding his eyes meeting with Pat’s, a wide smirk slipping onto his face.

Axl: The one and only Pat Evans. I’ve heard a lot about you, although I’m sure the majority of what I’ve been told has been shameless hype.

Pat nods his head slowly, still showing little to no emotion while rubbing at his jaw with the palm of his hand.

Pat: Well, at least you’ve heard of me, which is more than I can say for you.

Evermore: Ha, nice one.

Evans nods and then says nothing else, just staring at Evermore, who returns the glare, a very awkward silence ensuing between them. Finally Evermore breaks the silence.

Axl: Well, I just wanted to see the so called best technical wrestler in IWC with my own eyes. Actually, I should say former best technical wrestler, seeing as all that changed when I joined the roster.

Evans: Is that right?

Evermore: GAURANTEED.

Again Pat stares at Axl with emotionless eyes. Its a blank stare that would frighten any normal person.

Pat: I guess your entitled to your own opinion, but maybe one day we’ll find out who really is the better grappler, then you’ll discover all the hype was well deserved.

The stare Axl is being given would free flames, but Evermore just smirks even wider.

Evermore: No doubt, no doubt. But I must be off, I just wanted to wish you luck out there in this little farce of a match your involved in.

Pat: Farce?

Axl suddenly becomes serious.

Axl: Yeah, farce. After all, nobody really expects you to go out there and wrestle the World Champion. It’s quite clear you’re basically in the Alpha Generation’s pocket, that you’re kind of their bitch. So no one’s really expecting a match between you two, we all realize you’ll hold back out there and let yourself be pinned and all that guff.

Evans: Really? Is that what they think?

Pat utters these words kind of condescendingly but Axl is not deterred.

Evermore: Of course. I mean, that’s what the Alpha Generation, mainly Hurse has been telling everyone. I think the exact phrase he used when describing you, was “hired help.” Anyway, have fun lying down out there, should be mildly entertaining.

Axl steps around Pat, slapping him reassuringly on the shoulder while Evans gazes forward with no emotion. For a moment Evermore hesitates as he looks at the chain and the cuffs about Aurora’s wrists, Rose looking up and mouthing the words “help me.”

Axl: Oh, bondage, how cute.

That’s his last statement before he marches off down the corridor, leaving Evans standing there in deep thought. Pat’s jaw switches back and forth as he digests all the information he was just given. Suddenly a smile cracks to his face, and an almost disturbing laughter emanates from his lungs, one that causes Aurora to cower.

Pat: Let’s go.

Pat yanks on the chain and steps forward, his demeanor changing once again back to a more serious expression.

Douglas: Pat Evans vs. Hurse is up next, and now Evans has been given a little something more to think about.

Mayne: He better do what’s right for business and not listen to that Evermore idiot.

Suddenly the crowd has another loud mixed reaction at the sight of David Miller stepping out of an adjacent corridor that ran into the long hallway that both Axl and Pat are marching down opposite sides of. Miller stops right at the end of the adjacent hallway, his eyes deviating between the two individuals who marched off, both of which claiming to be great submission specialists apparently. A slight smirk comes to his face as he continues to twist his head to examine both individuals walking away from him, clearly amused by their claims.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

DO YOURSELF A FAVOR, AND GO TO A GOOD WRESTLING SCHOOL

ARE YOU COOL?

A loud collection of cheers springs up from the crowd at the sight of Icarus Strange seated in a backstage corridor, obviously having turned a lot of heads and gotten the respect of a lot fans for his performance earlier in the evening. He is currently holding a bag of ice to his elbow, trying to soothe the injuries he sustained in that chaotic triple threat match earlier in the evening. Right in the middle of mending his wounds a figure materializes at his side, none other than Susie Moore. A rather sympathetic expression resides on her face while she overlooks Strange continuing to his apply ice to his strained muscle. There almost seems to be a twinkle in her eye at the sight of the newcomer. Icarus doesn’t even bother to glance up at Susie however, more predisposed with icing his damaged limbs, which leaves the attractive, yet somewhat ditzy young interviewer dejected.

Susie: Excuse me, Bizarro Savior?

Icarus’ eyebrow raises while he slowly adjusts his sight to take into view the lovely specimen at his side.

Strange: The name is Icarus Strange, I’m not Christian Savior’s evil, yet somewhat dimwitted clone. Besides, my brother is ten times more sinister than I would ever hope to be.

Susie’s face become tensed up while lifting her microphone to her lips, doing a physical double take with her head.

Moore: Jesus, how many of you guys are there? Did your mother have to lay on her side and feed you all like a pig or something?

Icarus looks towards the ceiling with an introspective gaze while running his hands across the back of his noggin.

Icarus: Well, that would explain a lot, but no, I’m afraid I’m the last of three mighty brothers stepping foot in IWC.

Susie tilts her head, glancing him up and down, which seems to make Strange a little uncomfortable.

Susie: And you might want to add the most handsome of the three.

Icarus: Are you undressing me with your eyes?

Suddenly Susie stops overlooking him and frantically begins to shake her head at a loss for words, unsure of how to explain herself. Strange continues to give her a crooked eyebrow, and a piercing gaze.

Susie: Um, no, no, I was just trying to ummm, see, if, your, thighs, were fatter than mine?

Icarus sees through her forced lie and looks down at his red elbow once more, pushing the ice against it even further, for a moment completely forgetting about it.

Moore: Anyway, I just wanted to ask how you thought your debut went ton….

How his debut went tonight?

Both Icarus and Susie turn towards the source of the voice, the fans booing hysterically at the sight of Chris Hunter strolling into the camera’s frame. He has almost an arrogant swagger to his frame while he progresses towards both Icarus and Susie, the duo continuing to overlook him in obvious disgust. Chris waves his outstretched palms through the air, outraged by the question she was about to ask Icarus.

Chris: You were honestly about this ask this hard working player how his night was?

Susie: Yeah, it sounded like an intelligent ques…

Hunter: No, no, no honey…

Chris sticks his finger right over Susie’s lips, causing her to become abruptly quiet and offended.

Chris: Allow those with brains to think intelligently. You can’t ask this fool how his night went, obviously it went horribly.

This revelation strikes Icarus as particularly bewildering.

Strange: It actually didn’t go that bad….

Hunter: Shh, shhhh, shhhhhh! Of course it went bad, it went absolutely horrible!

Icarus glances back at Susie then at Hunter in great bewilderment.

Icarus: How?

Chris: Well, it’s simple, sure you did mildly good out there in the ring, but you didn’t do anything truly different, none of your moves were performed with that certain flair, with ingenuity. And you want to know why? Because you’ve got no rhythm, your not cool, your not fresh, your not pimp!

Chris’ argument seems to amuse Icarus who places his fist to the side of his face, leaning against it and listening.

Strange: And how do we fix that problem?

Hunter: Simple, see man, people think that being cool is something you’ve either got, or don’t got, but I think differently, I think being fresh can be taught. That’s exactly why I’ve started a new course that I’m bringing here to the IWC, an intensive class meant to teach corny punk bitches like yourself how to be cool. Here’s my card, don’t hesitate to call, unless on Friday and Saturday nights, unlike you I have parties to go to on those days instead of sitting in front of a computer messaging people on Myspace dressed in a Star Trek uniform.

Hunter holds the card out to Icarus who is feigning interest. He closes his eyes and reaches out taking the card apathetically and holding it out to his side while Chris looks between both Susie and Icarus.

Chris: Hasta luego, bitches.

Chris turns and marches on down the corner while Icarus doesn’t even take the time to watch him leave. He slowly glances up at Susie, their eyes meeting.

Icarus: Is there are a lot of these types in IWC?

Moore: More than we can keep count of.

Icarus: Joy.

Icarus glares at the card clutched between his fingers for several moments in deep thought. His expression greatly changes, almost as if he’s entranced by the card, his eyes narrowing on it very slowly. Shadows seem to spring up over his face that makes it appear much more sinister, and menacing.

PAT EVANS VS. HURSE

Douglas: What the hell was that between Chris Hunter and Icarus Strange? Chris is actually going to be lecturing people on how to be cool?

Mayne: Apparently so. Which is just awesome. I wonder how much classes are going to cost, I need to sign up pronto.

Dan: I don’t even think the coolest man on the planet, which Chris Hunter is far from, would be capable of helping you achieve hip-ness.

The lights in the building dim, the fans in the Manhattan Center rising as they bombard the entry way with a flurry of boos and other derogatory comments. The House of the Rising Sun by the Animals plays through the speakers.

There is a House in New Orleans
They call it the Rising Sun
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I’m One...

That’s when some green strobe lighting goes off on both sides of the stage and through the curtains marches the World Champion himself, Hurse stopping on the stage. He only does so momentarily, his eyes shadowed in a bit of darkness, giving him a menacing aura before he smirks and makes his way down the ramp. The World title glistens around his waist while a black bag full of unknown objects hangs from his grasp. He moves to the ring pulling away from fans who reach for him then scowling at the skin they tried to touch. He now begins to shake his head once more before dropping his bag on the outside of the ring and then rolling into the squared circle under the ropes. He rises to his feet and extends his arms out to his sides, spinning in circles while the gold glistens brightly about his waist. A huge smile is present on his face while he rears his head back staring up into the dancing green lights shining down on him from the rafters.

Douglas: Can we please go through one night without me being reminded why I completely hate Hurse?

Mayne: I like the fact that every week he constantly reminds me why he’s my hero. Tonight should be just another example of why we should bow down to him as a deity.

Dan: Oh please, I think what we’re going to witness tonight is Hurse’s streak of tainted victories come to an end at the hands of Pat Evans, as long as Pat can resist being bought off by the Alpha Generation.

The lights cut out as well as Hurse’s music while he lowers his arms to his sides, then turns his attention to the entry way. He removes the World title belt, handing it reluctantly to the official while continuing to observe the entry way with great scrutiny. “Outsider” plays throughout the arena. The lights dim and fade to black. After a few moments of the opening piano chord being played, a spotlight shines down on Pat Evans as he walks out from the back. The crowd boos while he pulls Aurora Rose being him, still handcuffed and connected to a chain. The reaction of the fans is that of pure disgust 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 undoes one of Aurora’s cuffs only to stick her hands around the ringpost and cuff it once more around the post so she can’t get away. 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: Look at Pat, you can tell he didn’t buy into any of that crap that Axl was trying to put into his head earlier.

Douglas: I’m not sure he needed Axl to get him revved up and ready to take off someone’s head. Evans is all about physicality, and hurting individual after individual, he doesn’t give a damn about alliances.

Billy: Everyone needs friends. Even I sometimes need company, which is why the pizza delivery places refuse to answer my phone calls anymore.

Hurse is still gendering over his shoulder out of fear for his very life, unknowing if Chapel will rear his head at any time. Evans just glares at the World Champion with a very conniving expression on his face, which seems to unnerve Hurse even further. Aurora pulls on the cuff that bounds her to the ring post, glaring to the inside, not sure who she should be supporting here. The bell rings and Evans steps straight to the center of the ring, motioning for the Champ to step forward as well. However, Hurse is incredibly tentative to do so, now having slipped through the cables and onto the apron, shaking his head “no.” Referee Stuart Wright demands he enter as Hurse swallows deeply, tears almost in his eyes at the thought of having to face off with a crudely smirking Evans. Finally after much duress Hurse slips into the ring, practicing his breathing exercises to get himself centered. He then puts on a false grin, stepping forward with an extension on his palm, looking to shake hands with Evans. Pat glares down at the palm then up to the face of the Champion and smirks a little wider before slapping Hurse to the cheek with great force. The tremendous impact which echoes throughout the arena knocks Hurse to the canvas and sends him into a backwards roll, ending up on his posterior then scooting backwards into one of the turnbuckles. A stoic Evans begins to approach him when he sticks his palms out, insisting that he be given a moment to recuperate. That’s when Pat reaches out, taking hold of both his palms and dragging him out of the corner on his knees, placing him in the Greco knuckle lock much to the Champion’s dismay.

Mayne: What are you doing Pat? Are you crazy, your not suppose to be attacking Hurse, especially after he offered you a lucrative spot in the Alpha Generation.

Douglas: I think the last thing on Evans’ mind right now is building alliances here in the IWC, it’s not like he’s made very many friends in his stay here.

Billy: It’s like he’s reliving his high school years or something.

The further his wrists are bent in reverse the more Hurse groans in pain before he begins to use all the muscle he’s got to reverse this submission. He begins to dig his feet into the canvas while forcing himself up to his feet, Evans still trying to push him down with the Greco Knuckle Lock. As soon as Hurse reaches his feet Evans breaks his grip on one hand though and then swings around under the other one, momentarily locking in a twisting wrist lock. That’s before he changes the submission up into a hammerlock, folding his opponent’s arm up and over his shoulder. Hurse’s eyes are almost bugging out of his head from the pain before he twists with his body, slipping around behind Evans’ back then stepping forward, applying a quick side headlock submission. Pat is bent forward with the hold by a game Hurse, who is smiling from ear to ear, enjoying himself now. Evans reaches up, grabbing hold of the arm around his neck and then sliding backwards almost effortlessly dragging Hurse’s arm behind his spine into a hammerlock. Hurse grinds his teeth and stomps his feet in frustration while slapping at his shoulder, trying to find a way to escape this hold before Evans grabs him by the other arm. He spins him around and takes hold of his other arm, swinging around under it into an arm ringer. A groan of pain comes from Hurse who bends forward, shouting in anguish and then extending his palm outward, going into a cartwheel over across the canvas. He ends up on both feet with the arm ringer still applied than drops down into a baseball slide down between Evans’ legs. Pat bends forward still holding onto Hurse’s wrist before the Champion stands up, dragging his forearm upward into Evans’ testicles, causing him to shout in pain and reach for his family jewels. As soon as he does Hurse steps to his side, grabbing hold of his wrist and swinging around under it, placing him in his own arm ringer.

Pat drops to a knee, grunting in pain as his arm is targeted by the World Champion, who again is smiling, very pleased with himself. That’s before Evans drops into a forward roll, getting onto his back then rolling over in reverse onto his feet once again. Pat pulls his arm towards himself and thus drags Hurse into his shoulder, dropping back and thus flipping his opponent over crashing onto his spine, Evans coming down back first onto his chest. Pat quickly slips around to Hurse’s side, grabbing hold of his arm and folding it over backwards into a top wrist lock while he’s laid out on the canvas. Hurse roars in pain as a result but then rolls over backwards onto his feet, escaping the top wrist lock only for Pat to stand and swing around under his arm, placing him in the twisting wrist lock once more.

He then delivers a vicious knife edge chop to Hurse’s chest while in this position. The Champion roars in pain before Pat chops him again to the chest, causing the Champion to almost lose his footing. The Master of Control suddenly charges forward though and steps up the ropes before jumping into the air while his wrist is still grasped by the hands of Evans. He drops down with the back of his legs to the top rope, bouncing off the cable and then going into a backwards flip where he lands on his feet. But just as quickly he drops down sideways to the canvas, slipping his wrist free then grabbing hold of Pat’s hands, pulling him down into almost an arm drag. Evans is flipped over, bending his head and going into a roll across the canvas before he stands up, turning to face Hurse who has risen to his feet charging in quickly only for Pat to level him with another brutal knife edge chop. The thunderous impact knocks Hurse from a standing base, sending him crashing to his back on the canvas then rolling across it quickly. He scurries to his feet and steps towards Pat who rears his hand back for another chop only for Hurse to squeal loudly and drop right back to the canvas, rolling under the ropes to the outside of the ring.

Mayne: Our fighting World Champion creating some space between himself and Evans fortunately. I just don’t get why Pat is doing this? He’s basically throwing away the greatest opportunity of his life by attacking Hurse and not laying down for him in order to earn a possible spot into the Alpha Generation.

Douglas: The thought of anyone laying down beneath Hurse just disgusts me.

Hurse glares into the ring with a grimacing expression, rubbing at his pecs and then glancing at his palm to ensure that he’s not bleeding. Pat just stands in the center of the ring with a fearsome expression on his face, all the while bending forward with his devious eyes centered on the World Champion, who marches around on the mats increasingly uncomfortable. After much haste he steps towards the bag he brought out with him and left at ringside, reaching inside of it and pulling out what looks to be a cap. Tentatively rising onto the apron he extends his palm over the ropes in Pat’s direction, requesting he stop pulverizing him for just one second then slipping into the ring hesitantly. He now approaches Evans who puts his fists to his hips, watching on as if he’s mildly intrigued, Hurse beginning to explain the similarities between them, attempting to build a friendship.

Hurse: Just listen Evans, the two of us aren’t that different really. I mean, um, uh, you got hair, and so do I. Plus we’ve got both all our teeth intact, hell, some of the ones in my mouth are still baby teeth. So see, we’re destined to be teammates, just look at yourself in this Alpha Generation hat I bought you.

No longer hesitating Hurse slips the cap onto Pat’s round head and then cringes as he steps back, putting his finger nails between his teeth, realizing he mistakenly grabbed Jackson Adams’ hat out of the lockeroom. Instead of the words “Alpha Generation” being present on the cap, the phrase “World’s Greatest Lover,” is present. Pat turns and looks into the big screen, realizing what the message on his cap says before turning towards a terrified Hurse, who is still nibbling at his finger tips in fear. He now smirks and shrugs his shoulders.

Hurse: It still looks good on you.

Evans scratches at his jaw as is if intrigued then begins to chuckle a little which brings Hurse utter delight before he’s given a vicious kick right to the ribs. The World Champion doubles over as Evans steps forward and cracks him right across the jaw, causing him to stagger backwards into the cables, bouncing off of them. He staggers forward while Evans rubs his hands together almost gleefully and then delivers a stiff, violent knife edge chop to Hurse’s chest. The collision knocks the World Champion down to the canvas across his back. He then rolls onto his knees, attempting to stand up only for Evans to step to his side, locking his arms around his neck as he places him in a headlock.

Douglas: Well, Hurse’s attempts to endear himself to Pat didn’t work out there it appears.

Mayne: I guess Pat doesn’t like novelty hats, who would have figured.

Hurse squirms free from under Pat’s arm, getting behind his back and then wrapping his arms around his waist. Trying to counter with quickness Pat drops to his posterior, Hurse coming down behind him onto his knees though, still keeping his arms locked about his waist. That’s when Evans reaches down, grabbing hold of one of the arms around his gut, prying it away and then turning his back to Hurse’s side, trying to apply a fujiwara armbar. A desperate World Champion reaches out, trying to claw at Pat’s face to keep him from locking in this submission, that’s when his crafty opponent transitions quickly into a top wrist while both men are on their knees. This won’t keep Hurse down as he grits his teeth and fights his way to his feet only for Pat to switch around behind his back, locking his arms around his waist. He has him in a rear waist lock as a frightened Hurse charges forward at the cables, pulling Evans along right before him. Just as both men are about to hit the cables Hurse performs a timely standing switch, getting behind Pat and locking his arms about his mid-section. He forces Evans chest first into the cables and then drops back, pulling his opposition down with him as both men go into a reverse roll. They end up with Pat being pushed onto the back of his shoulders with Hurse sitting on the back of his thighs, pushing him down for the pin. He then goes as far as to bridge in reverse, over the upper torso of Evans to place his palms to the canvas and put the submission on even further.

Suddenly Pat reaches up with his arms, grabbing the back of Hurse’s tights and pulling down them so that the Champion lands spine first on his chest and stomach, reaching up as he tries to lock his arms about his neck. Hurse’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s about to be put in the Time to Go to Sleep (Million Dollar Sleeper). The World Champion gets one arm up in front of his throat and begins to force himself up to his feet, Pat standing behind him as well as both men reach a standing base. Evans is fighting to get the submission locked in and finish the Champion off while the Master of Control is struggling to avoid it, shrieking in terror throughout the process. He goes for the best counter he can think of by reaching down and in reverse, grabbing hold of Pat’s leg, hooking his hand around his neck and lifting up on it. Pat crashes onto his spine as Hurse turns to face him, lifting his opponent’s legs into the air and now trying to roll him over onto his gut in order to apply the Legend Lock. The fans are on their feet, watching on closely as Hurse appears ready to turn Pat onto his gut and establish his finishing submission.

Mayne: Hurse has got him, he’s got him!

Douglas: And just a second though I’m sure you had Pat had Hurse.

Billy: Yeah, but I didn’t want to say anything then, I’m lazy.

The pearly whites of Hurse’s teeth are shinning through his twisted lips as he attempts to pull Evans onto his chest to apply the submission, but Pat is still fighting it with everything he’s got. Aurora watches on with intrigue since she’s kind of forced to. Pat now sits up suddenly and grabs hold of Hurse’s bangs, beginning to drag down on his cranium and deliver palm strikes to his forehead repeatedly. Each shot causes Hurse to begin weakening his grasp and bending further more and more, allowing Pat to grab hold of the back of his head and then roll over in reverse. He pulls Hurse down into almost a small package.

Pat breaks the small package attempt and by grasping his opposition’s hair sits him up, scooting behind him and attempting to lock in the Time to Go to Sleep once more. Squeals emanate from a desperate Hurse who tosses and turns, trying to squirm his way out of this submission attempt, once again getting his forearm up to block it from being fully applied. Pat stands up behind and leans down into the submission attempt before the AG member drops onto his back, sliding free and getting his feet up into Evans’ chest, shoving him off backwards. Staggering in reverse Evans hits the cables before coming back in at Hurse who stands and bends forward, catching Pat by the back of the legs. He attempts to lift up on them once again in order to apply his Legend Lock before the dangerous submission expert elbows him to the back of the head then delivers several forearm strikes over his spine. Hurse is almost knocked to his knees before Pat reaches down, wrapping his arms about his gut, hoisting him up into the air and onto his shoulder. He seems to be setting up for some type of awesome bomb or perhaps a derailer before Hurse rolls off his shoulder and drops down sideways, catching Pat around the arm in the process, delivering an arm drag that flips Pat over sideways. Evans is taken off his feet and sent into a sideways roll where he ends up on his knees, Hurse getting up and charging at him. That’s when Pat rolls towards him onto his gut, forcing Hurse to jump over him and duck his head, rolling forward across the canvas. He turns towards Evans who is already charging in then side steps him, pushing him along forward into the cables. Evans bounces off the ropes and comes back in at Hurse who steps forward and catches him with an attempted tilt a whirl. With a display of his resourcefulness Pat swings out of it and lands right on his feet in front of Hurse before throwing another vicious chop directly to his chest. Hurse ducks it this time then waits for Pat to spin around, once he’s done so the Champion charges forward with a lariat at his neck. Evans ducks that as well and then turns towards Hurse’s back, immediately clamping on the Time to Go to Sleep to a huge reaction from the crowd.

Douglas: The Time to Go to Sleep! Pat’s got it locked in, Hurse may have no other choice but to tap out right here and right now!

Mayne: No Pat, realize what your doing, stop before it’s too late.

The eyes of Hurse tell the whole story as tears almost run down them, flailing his free arm and leg desperately and then charging forward at one of the turnbuckles as quickly as possible. He drags Pat along with him and then steps up the corner, putting his feet on the top rope, pushing himself off backwards. This forces Evans to crash onto his back while Hurse lands on his chest spine first but is bridging over backwards almost while still being held in the submission, the front of his feet touching the canvas. Pat’s shoulders are pressed to the ring as the official drops and makes the count.

Pat breaks his own submission as Hurse drops over onto his knees behind him, Evans beginning to sit up when the Champ grabs him around the neck. He seems to be putting him in the sleeper but then forces him up to his feet before bending Evans forward a bit and dropping back, flipping Pat over sideways and backwards into the shell shock. Pat crashes face first into the canvas, almost standing on top of his forehead before he bounces off, tumbling onto his back an motionless wreck. Aurora watches on with care almost in her eyes as the desperate Champion turns, crawling into the cover on Evans, hooking both of his legs.

No, Pat gets his shoulder off the canvas, causing Hurse to sit up with a very saddened expression on his face. He slips his hands into his already sweaty hair, shaking his head back and forth in complete disbelief that he didn’t just obtain the pinfall.

Mayne: Pat getting his shoulder up after being hit with one of the most deadly moves in Hurse’s arsenal, and just like the name I’m shell-shocked. Hahaha, I’m proud of myself for that one.

Douglas: I’m sure you are Billy, although there’s really nothing to be proud of in the slightest. Especially considering that your personal favorite has failed to get the pinfall on Pat even with that insane counter to the Time to Go to Sleep.

Billy: Why must you always tear me down? It really hurts my feelings.

Hurse is breathing heavily while he now turns, shooting a glare towards the cap he offered to Evans, lying discarded on the ring. He crawls towards it and grabs the cap, then turns towards the laid out Evans, scooting up behind him. He grabs the hair of his unconscious opponent, sitting him up before forcing the cap down on his head.

Hurse: Put the damn cap on!

Now that the hat is firmly in place Hurse grabs Pat around the neck, rolling him onto his knees then trying to drag him up to his feet. As soon as he does this Pat launches a forearm upward at his testicles only for Hurse to catch it at the last second and look on with shock and anger.

Hurse: You dirty mother fucker….

Pat swings upward with his other arm, connecting with a European Uppercut now that almost knocks his opponent down to the canvas. Spit and sweat flies from Hurse’s face, yet he’s still standing, although staggering around badly. Pat gets to his feet in front of him and then spins around quickly into a hard roaring elbow directly to the Champion’s face. Hurse is almost knocked to the canvas, his legs still wavering beneath him, trying to catch himself from going down to the ring. A slightly flustered Evans steps back in a battered state then spins around for another hard roaring elbow only for Hurse to jump into the air, catching him to the face as he comes in with a brutal spinning heel kick. The impact knocks Pat down to the canvas across his back with Hurse landing beside him, rolling away onto his elbows and knees. He turns towards Pat and stands up quickly, kicking the hat out of his way now that spilled off Evans’ skull before stepping over his legs. Hurse reaches down, grabbing hold of Pat’s legs, lifting them up into the air and placing them over his shoulders as he sets up for the Sanitizer (Styles Clash). He tries to get his legs over his shoulders but Pat is fighting this flailing his hands outward as far as they will go, trying to get to the cables. Hurse staggers around as a result, his legs already barely able to keep him up as Pat reaches out and finds a grasp on a middle rope, the Champion having stumbled too close to them.

Pat is holding on for dear life with one hand as Hurse keeps trying to drag him away in order to hit his impact finisher, but he just can’t get him away from those ropes. In frustration Hurse steps forward and pushes the legs off his shoulders, causing Pat to land gut first on the top rope, bouncing off then landing feet first on the apron. As soon as he does Hurse lunges into the air and dropkicks his opponent right to the chest, knocking him off the apron, sending him crashing to the outside mats. Pat lands with a hard thud on the outside mats, rolling onto his elbows and knees as he tries to get up. Just as he is able to plant his feet beneath him while bent forward, Hurse slips to the outside of the ring and charges forward, catching him around the neck, hitting him with a swinging neckbreaker on the thin protective mats. The back of Pat’s head hits the mats with force, causing him to sit up and wrap his hands around his skull, grimacing in pain.

Mayne: Haha, now Pat is beginning to understand why he should have took Hurse up on his offer to join the Alpha Generation as he’s being physically dominated in this contest.

Douglas: I actually think this is the first sustained offense Hurse has got in this match thus far.

Hurse rises to his feet and sticks his arms out to his sides, motioning with his outstretched fingers for the fans to get up, to show him their support. They boo furiously, which sounds like music to his ears while he steps towards Pat, clubbing him hard over the spine while he was trying to force himself to his feet. Evans falls to a knee while Hurse takes him around the neck, dragging him up to his feet then delivering a vicious knife edge chop straight across his chest. Pat cringes and turns away from Hurse, staggering across the mats while the Champ charges up behind him, delivering a clubbing blow straight to his upper back. The impact causes Pat to be staggered forward further, arching his back and grimacing in pain as he approaches Aurora who is still cuffed to the ring post. Rose is screaming and shouting at Pat who suddenly grabs hold of her, stepping around behind her back to use her as a shield as Hurse had his fist cocked, ready to punch him. He now stops, hesitating for a second before grinning.

Hurse: What? You think I won’t strike this bitch?

Hurse steps forward to punch Aurora and get at Evans, when Rose’s face fills with even greater spite, launching her foot upward right into the Champion’s testicles. Hurse bends forward, howling in pain while Wright watches on from the ring, opting to allow the interference. Pat shoves Aurora against the ring and steps around her before bending forward, burying his shoulder to the Champion’s gut. He spins him around so that his back is facing the ring, charging him spine first hard right into the ring-post with tremendous force. A roar emanates from Hurse, who extends his arms out to his sides, digging his fingernails into his palms before Pat grabs him by the back of the head, turning him around then rolling him into the ring under the ropes.

Mayne: Those cheaters, that wasn’t right, that was just plain, evil.

Douglas: Take it up with the bosses later, Hurse had it coming.

Billy: Oh, well maybe I will, I certainly wouldn’t mind conversing with Sallie and Krissie.

Hurse has gotten to his feet while slouched forward, still cupping his testicles, which makes him easy pray for Pat who steps to his side, wrapping his arms around his waist. He has him in a gut wrench before lifting him up into the air and onto his shoulder, holding him in an awesome bomb position then spinning around in circle after circle. Hurse seems to be getting sick before Pat finally throws him off his shoulder, sending the Champion swinging around in the air before finally crashing to the canvas across his spine. The crowd actually seems to be growing in support for Evans who staggers in reverse, trying to get his head straight while a pain ridden World Champion is already trying to force himself up to his feet. He turns to face Pat who goes rushing into the cables, bouncing off them then coming back in as he jumps into the air and buries a knee directly into Hurse’s chest. The sheer force of the collision knocks him off his feet and sends him crashing into the canvas before flipping over backwards, hitting the cables spine first where he remains.

He places his hands over the cables to hold himself up while Pat gets to his feet in front of him. Suddenly the Champion roars and rushes out of the cables, lariating Pat right to the throat with violent impact, knocking him down to his spine while Hurse lands on all fours at his side. The crowd is booing loudly at the sight of this before Pat rolls over and rises to his feet, shouting something in a very determined, intense voice. Hurse glances at him over his shoulder with a frightful expression on his face before standing up and stepping in, delivering a hard slap to Pat’s face. This result in Evans making a full rotation into a spinning back chop to the side of Hurse’s head though, almost breaking his neck. Hurse is staggered as a result before Pat kicks him to the gut and grabs hold of his head, pulling it down under his seat. He wraps his arms around his waist and hoists him up into the air and onto his shoulder before allowing him to slide down a bit, catching both of his armpits within the palms of his hands. He’s ready now to deliver a modified version of the Outsider (Crucifix Powerbomb) but Hurse starts to squirm, sliding down his back and landing on his feet behind Evans. He grabs both of his arms and pulls them down over his shoulders while dropping to his knees, dragging Evans down into a modified back slide into the pinfall.

Pat rolls over onto his feet right in front of Hurse though who stands up and turns his back to Evans, catching him around the neck, pointing at one of the turnbuckles as if setting for a sliced bread number 2. Before he can hit it Evans places his hands to his spine, shoving him off across the ring, Hurse hitting the ropes then coming back in at Pat who steps to the center of the squared circle, catching the Champion with a deep, vicious spinning powerslam. He follows up by hooking his leg immediately.

Hurse shoots his shoulder off the canvas in the nick of time. Pat rises to his knees, his face becoming flushed with anger that he’s been incapable of finishing the World Champion off thus far. The camera briefly cuts to the crowd now where an emptied out section features Axl Evermore standing and watching with his arms crossed over his chest. He seems to be amused, or bored by the action in the ring, watching on with apathetic eyes.

Douglas: Look at this Billy, I didn’t even realize Axl Evermore was in the crowd watching this match this entire time.

Mayne: What the? Did he even bother to buy a ticket or did he just kick some pathetic fan out of their seat?

Douglas: I’m leaning towards the latter of the two options.

Billy: All he better do is stand there and watch. Maybe he’ll learn a thing or two about technical wrestling the longer he observes this match.

Axl tilts his head, still watching the action very closely while a noticeably tired Evans rises to his feet, stomping Hurse right to the skull. His legs kick into the air while Pat grabs him by the hair, dragging him over onto his knees then stepping behind his back as he immediately tries to lock him in the Time to Go to Sleep once more. He drags him up to his feet only for Hurse to drops down to his seat, connecting with a jawbreaker that stops Pat’s attempts at the submission and sends him stumbling backwards into the cables. He falls against them for support while Hurse now turns onto his hands and knees, starting to stand up when Pat runs out of the ropes and hits him with a vicious knee lift directly to the jaw. The impact causes Hurse to stand up before Pat steps in front of him then moves in with a savant kick directly to his jaw. The impact knocks the Champion down to the canvas, but Pat isn’t finished, stepping forward and grabbing his ankle. He lifts up on it and rolls Hurse over backwards then steps over his shoulder, sticking his arms out to his sides as if calling for the Outsider. Aurora hangs her head in shame as Pat sets for his finisher only for Hurse to turn and suddenly deliver a hard low blow directly to his testicles. Pat bends forward, howling in pain as a result of the collision with his genital area, Hurse quickly turning away from him in an exasperated state. Hurse stands up suddenly and moves towards Evans. He goes for a step up enzugari on him only for Pat to duck the attempted kick to the back of the head and instead grab hold of the Champion’s ankle. He catches it while Hurse falls to his chest and stomach, Evans lifting up on the leg, having played possum long enough to apply the ankle lock. The World Champion shakes his head back and forth, placing his hand over his face, appearing ready to tap out now. The crowd is all standing, everyone putting their hands together at the sight of this, watching as the World Champion is on the verge of submission. Somehow he’s hanging in there though, keeping from tapping out and losing his first match in months. Pat continues to twist and grind at the ankle repeatedly.

Mayne: Don’t tap, don’t tap Hurse!

Douglas: The World Champion is going to become just as another victim to Pat Evans, he’s going to snap his ankle in two.

Billy: Why Pat, why?

Axl continues to watch with renewed intrigue as Hurse’s ankle continues to be twisted and wrenched to the point that it almost snaps. His quivering fingers raise into the air, about to tap out to the pain with the referee bent over him, checking on his condition. He’s still persisting though, trying to force his way through this submission when the referee stands up, spotting someone coming down the ramp. The agitated official jumps in front of the cables as Chapel has come storming towards the ring with a steel chair clutched in his hand.

Mayne: Oh no, oh no! This couldn’t get any worse for Hurse!

Douglas: Nice attempt at being the next Dr. Seuss, but your correct, Hurse is in a world of trouble now, if he doesn’t tap, he’s doomed to be brutalized by the War Angel! Maybe even both outcomes will befall him.

The referee has his undivided attention on Chapel and the chair making its way to the ring, his back to the action as the World Champion finally begins to tap out and relentlessly scream in agony the more his ankle is twisted.

Douglas: Hurse is tapping, he’s tapping out to Pat Evans!

Mayne: But the referee is too distracted by Chapel! Hahahaha, I love the stupidity of our officiating staff. They make Susie Moore look like a rocket scientist.

The official is unable to stop Chapel who slides into the ring, Pat turning to face him and releasing Hurse in the process, finally realizing he’s there. The Champion grips at his ankle while rolling across the ring then glances up at the psychotic Cartel title holder brandishing solid steel in the palms of his hands. In terror Hurse rolls out of the ring, Chapel passing Evans and chasing after the title holder. He swings the steel over the ropes at the man he’ll soon be facing for the title but misses his head just barely. A terrified Hurse jumps over the barricade and in the process pushes past the pain in his ankle before falling against the fans, using them for support while holding his leg in the air. Chapel glares menacingly at Hurse while Aurora watches all of this in a state of shock, she doesn’t even realize that Evans is sneaking up behind the War Angel though. Before Chapel can avoid it Pat locks him in the Time to Go to Sleep, the crowd booing furiously. The eyes of the Cartel Champion open widely as an obviously angered Pat, who had victory well within his grasp, is attacking the man who ruined his chance of cleanly forcing Hurse to tap out.

Mayne: Hahaha, Pat has got Chapel in the Time to Go to Sleep, he’s going to choke him out. Just when I start to dislike Pat he completely turns things around and makes me love the man again!

Douglas: Evans obviously pissed that Chapel may have ruined this match and his chance at making a big statement against the World Champion, and don’t forget there’s already some history between these two men.

A smiling Hurse jumps over the barricade and hobbles towards the ring, pointing through the ropes, demanding Evans break Chapel’s neck as the King of Monsters actually begins to fade. Pat’s submission seems to be doing the trick before Chapel suddenly mule kicks him right to the testicles, the blow causing Evans’ eyes to widen. He bends forward and cups his testicles with his pain before Chapel spins around, lifting the chair high above his head and then swinging it right into Pat’s face. The impact echoes throughout the arena and causes Evans to collapse onto his back, completely laid out by the collision, a large dent left in the surface of the steel chair. The sound of the collision resembled that of a gunshot and knocked Hurse on his ass as well, covering his own head as if feeling sympathy pains for a completely unconscious Evans. The official turns and calls for the bell, confusing Hurse who’s eyes dart towards the ring announcer, Chapel going into fits in the ring. He has ripped off his shirt, throwing it down at the canvas then turning his deadly gaze back to the fear stricken Champion at ringside.

Mayne: Nooo! Chapel just caved Pat’s skull in with that chair! He didn’t deserve that.

Douglas: Of course he did, he was trying to choke Chapel out, plus you remember what Pat did to his ankle just a few short weeks ago.

Billy: Pat wouldn’t have had to clamp that submission on him if Chapel hadn’t been involved in this match. And now what is this incompetent referee doing?

The official gets done talking to the ring announcer before Kaily shrugs her shoulders and lifts a microphone to her lips.

Kaily: Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of this match via disqualification, Pat Evans!

Hurse’s jaw has dropped, his mouth agape while he runs his trembling hands through his hair, unable to believe he just lost this match thanks to Chapel and that steel chair. Pat is still completely laid out as the official grabs his wrist, holding his arm aloft in victory.

Mayne: This is bullshit, why don’t these referees at least complete grade school?

Douglas: But just a second ago you were enjoying the stupidity of the officials, now your…oh forget it. Just learn to face the fact that Hurse was not victorious this evening.

Billy: I’d rather eat a rubber chicken, which would really make things interesting the next morning.

Chapel and Hurse’s eyes have meant with one another, a conniving grin on the War Angel’s face while he continues to take deep breaths. He now darts towards the ropes, the World Champion rising to his feet and squealing as he rushes towards the time keeper, grabbing his World title from them. He then hops on one foot towards the barricade with Chapel chasing after him. Just barely Hurse is able to make it over the barricade and hobble through the crowd which clears out of his way, the War Angel chasing him to the backstage area. They both pass right by Axl who is still watching with a very wide smirk on his face, crossing his arms over his chest in the process. Pat has now rolled onto his side, blood dribbling down his face from a crack opened in his head from the chair. He is breathing heavily while Aurora is pleading for someone to come and uncuff her from the turnbuckle. Nobody comes while Pat glares at her then turns his sight to Axl standing in the crowd, giving him a very cold, malice filled glare.

COMMERCIAL BREAK

TAKING A BREAK?

AWOL is seated in the forefront of the camera, the crowd reacting with a huge outcry of cheers, with many boos surprisingly thrown in as well. The General Manager is leaning back in his chair with a tired, irritated expression on his face. His eyes look full of dreariness but intensity as well, growing increasingly unstable the longer this evening carries on. The anger in his body is slowly being subsided by apathy though while he leans further and further back in his seat. As the door to his office opens his interest appears peaked, finally awaking out his apathetic daze, leaning forward in his chair at the sight of those entering his dressing room.

Sallie: What a pretty office.

Krissie: Someone’s got a flair for decoration.

The reaction from the crowd transforms into anger and intensifies as both Sallie and Krissie swagger into AWOL’s office, their arms locked about one another’s waists, with their eyes focused on the General Manager. AWOL doesn’t appear to be pleased at the sight of them whatsoever, leaning forward in his chair as he buries his elbows into the desk and interlocks his hands around one another.

AWOL: Why hello ladies….

Sallie and Krissie smile while turning and winking in AWOL’s direction, causing him to chuckle slightly until his expression changes dramatically.

AWOL: What the fuck are you two doing in my office?

Both Sallie and Krissie start blinking sporadically before they turn towards one another, placing their fingers over their mouths.

McMorris: Ew, someone’s a little testy.

Sallie: Be careful, we all know that when things get stressful for AWOL, he usually takes it out on the women in his life.

AWOL’s fingers interlock a little more tightly while his eyes burn holes into the somewhat fearful but pompous beauties before him.

AWOL: Cute, you know a little something about me, but you should also know I don’t like people stepping on my toes, getting in my way, or interfering with my plans. Now explain why your in my office.

Sallie and Krissie are both acting as if they no longer even hear the General Manager speaking, just conversing with one another, not so much as glimpsing in his direction.

Krissie: Your right though Sallie, I think the stress might be getting to our precious General Manager.

Sallie: Yeah, maybe it’s time for him to take a vacation, and for us to step in.

AWOL: Hahahaha, you two think this is real cute don’t you?

AWOL stands up suddenly and thrusts the side of his fist against his already slightly cracked desk, which is scuffed up thanks to the shots to its surface from Chapel earlier. Both Sallie and Krissie jump, fanning themselves off and patting their hearts as if shocked by his outburst.

Krissie: My stars, he sure does get angry easily.

Sallie: That certainly is unbecoming of a General Manager if you ask me.

Krissie: Indeed, but maybe we should give him the benefit of the doubt for the time being, at least until the real boss, a man with real power steps forward.

A giggle comes from both ladies while steam almost begins to shoot from AWOL’s ears and burning eyes.

Sallie: Yeah, perhaps it be for the best for now. We’ll let the boss decide rather he keeps his job or not when he shows up in due time. Until then, let’s just make sure we keep our eyes on our newest subordinate.

They slide their arms over one another’s shoulders and turn, waltzing away and glancing at the outraged General Manager. AWOL watches them walk off with a very series expression, his eyes narrowing on their backs as they march away from him.

AWOL: Hmmm, you all want to play? Well then, I’m game.

A disturbing smile comes to AWOL’s face before he sits back down in his chair, interlocking his fingers once more.

The show returns to the ringside area where a brightly smiling Billy Mayne is seated beside a troubled Douglas.

Douglas: Things certainly getting tense and interesting backstage.

Mayne: Hahahaha, it’s about time someone stepped up to that murderous, diabolical bastard AWOL. Someone other than the Alpha Generation I mean. And to top it off, AWOL actually now has a boss, two sexy bosses I might add.

Dan: Of course that would be the only reason you’d like them. But who are Sallie and Krissie working for? Can this night get anymore confusing?

”Rumor” By Lindsey Lohan now begins to play over the PA system, causing the crowd to rise, putting their hands together while many others simply boo furiously. There are several outraged spectators, and others whop are still staunch Robin fans, a couple are unsure of what to think about her at all. Just then Robin Brooks steps through the curtains, vacant of her title gold and already looking light headed, perhaps not fully recovered from the concussion she sustained at the hands of Psycho on the last Riot! Nevertheless she moves towards the ring with a lowered head, brushing her hair behind her ears while trying to keep her mind on the match at hand yet finding herself repeatedly drawn back to other pressing dilemmas. Before she realizes it she’s reached the ring and rolls under the ropes, no fanfare on this occasion, no fancy shadow boxing and karate style kicks, just a somber, disappointed expression. Her feelings of dismay are intensified the more she looks at her naked waist, no sight of her stolen X-Class title belt, and still nothing being done to solve the problem of having it returned to her.

Mayne: Aww, poor little Robin, still all jaded because no one in the world besides Hurse likes her, and her precious little title belt was stolen.

Douglas: I’m surprised Robin hasn’t done anything about that tonight, although of course Hurse and the Alpha Generation have kept her under their thumbs this evening, the World Champion trying to keep her out of trouble perhaps. But she’s in for a world of trouble here next when she goes one on one with Jon Rich in a match for the N.H.B Championship. That means no rules, no regulations, and pure violence.

Billy: This is one of few booking decisions I actually applaud AWOL for.

The crowd is still mixed on how to respond to Robin, who twists her neck and swings her arms, trying to get ready for the impending title contest. The screen begins flashing with the beat of "Unbreakable" by Bon Jovi. The fans jump to their feet and watch as Jon walks from the back, smile on his face but holding the back of his neck, still feeling the effects of that attack earlier in the evening. 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, lights sparkling from his golden title belt. 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. They are all standing and cheering, Rich having gained a lot of respect for challenging the Dark Man earlier in the evening. Finally Rich drops off the turnbuckle and spins back towards Robin, his demeanor changing at the sight of her. He reaches down, removing his title belt then throwing it over to the official while still shooting a malice filled glare in the direction of his opposition.

Mayne: By the look in Rich’s eyes I think this match is going to go a little further than spitting on people.

Douglas: That’s kind of the reason behind the booking of this match, but this really all started when Robin was forced to give Psycho the shooting star press at Born Again and cost Jon’s team the match against the Alpha Generation.

Billy: This man should really learn to stop living in the past, although I certainly don’t blame him for failing to forgive that bitch Robin.

Official Alex Ingelson holds the N.H.B title high in the air with the crowd putting their hands together, deeply anticipating this main event. That’s when the bell sounds and both Rich and Robin begin to circle one another. Neither of them looks to be in the best of shapes after the beat downs that have been inflicted on them over the past few weeks, nevertheless they show no hesitance as they charge forward into a collar elbow lock. Almost immediately Rich grabs hold of Robin’s arm, swinging around under it, momentarily placing her in the twisting wrist lock but then dragging the arm around her throat. He steps behind her and grabs her other arm, pulling it around her neck as well, placing her in position for the original Get Rich Quick (Cobra Clutch Reverse Ace Crusher). He drops to his knee before Robin pushes up with her legs, sending her into a backwards flip over Jon’s shoulder, landing on her feet in front of him. Brooks then charges forward and jumps into the air as Jon stands in front of her, coming down on top of his shoulders, looking ready for a hurricarana. Immediately Jon places his hands to the back of her thighs, pushing her off into a backwards flip as she once again lands on her feet. Jon now charges forward with a lariat before the Black Widow ducks it, hooking his arm with her own and then kicking her legs out across his back. She locks him up for a crucifix perhaps but then lets go of his arm, twisting as she slides down his spine, instead attempting a sunset flip at this point. That’s when Jon flips over backwards, landing on his hands then going over onto his feet as Robin sits up in front of him just in time to be caught with a running front dropkick directly to the face. The fans react with shock as Jon rolls onto her knees away from her, a very intense expression residing on his twisted features.

Douglas: A nice series of counters between both these phenomenal young athletes, but Rich scores with the first initial move, a brutal front dropkick nicely placed to Robin’s head. That certainly doesn’t do her any favors considering the injuries sustained on her cranium.

Mayne: Robin’s got a big thick skull, she shouldn’t have to worry about getting struck to the cranium. Besides I’m quite sure she’s accustom to having large things jabbed into her face.

Rich stands and grabs hold of Robin’s ankle and wrist, stepping backwards towards the turnbuckle and dragging her along with him. He already appears as if he’s ready to finish this one off in a hurry, really not in a good mood as he deposits Brooks in front of the corner then slips through the ropes onto the apron. He now begins to scale the turnbuckle, the fans rising to their feet and watching closely as Jon begins to climb to the top rope, getting to it and then turning to face Robin. To some applause Brooks has gotten to her feet and now jumps into the air, slapping Rich to the face, almost knocking him off the turnbuckle. He reaches for his jaw before Robin reaches up, grabbing his arms, crossing them one over the other then turning her back in his direction. She drags Jon off the corner now into an Iconoclasm only for Jon to duck his head and roll forward across the canvas. He ends up right on his feet before turning and charging directly at Robin with a lariat only for her to duck into a roll under it. Rich spins around to face her and comes charging in once again while Robin rolls onto her feet then springs into the air, landing feet first on the turnbuckle opposite to the one she just threw Jon out of. She now springs off backwards into a reverse elbow directly into Jon’s chest as he came charging in. Rich is knocked to the canvas with Robin landing at his side, rolling across the ring onto her elbows and knees. She crawls into the cover on him, hooking his leg.

Jon kicks out, turning away from Robin who stands and delivers a hard stomping blow to the back of Rich’s head. She now takes him around the neck and drags him up to his feet before attempting a snapmare only for Rich to show his remarkable agility by flipping forward onto his feet. A shocked Black Widow stands and charges at Jon who turns, kicking in reverse right into the Robin’s gut, doubling her over. Jon then spins to her side and takes her around the neck in almost a side headlock before falling to one knee, pulling her down face first into the other one. Brooks bounces off and stands, holding her face only for Jon to turn his back towards her and wrap his arm around her neck, dropping down into a stunner now. The collisions cause Robin to tumble onto her back finally, completely laid out, Rich turning and crawling into the cover on her this time. He hooks both legs for the pinfall.

As quickly as she can the Black Widow shoots her shoulders off the canvas, turning away from Rich who turns around towards her back, grabbing hold of her arm. He folds it over so that her forearm is behind the back of her head, trying to find her way out of this submission now. Robin grinds her teeth, attempting to get out of this tough submission while Rich stands up behind her, leaning down into the hold at this point. That’s when Robin drops down onto her back, rolling in reverse and lifting her legs into the air, placing them on Jon’s shoulders, wrapping them about his neck. She now drops into a forward roll, flipping Rich over into a modified leg scissors. Jon crashes across his back and rolls right onto his feet though, turning towards Robin who is just getting up. Like before he throws another lariat that Robin ducks, catching him around the arm in the process. She turns her back towards his and hooks the other arm, dragging Rich down into a back slide pin.

Rich rolls backwards out of the pin and onto his feet before jumping into the air and delivering almost a double stomp dropkick to the back of Robin’s head. Brooks’ face in turn is pushed hard into the canvas as she rolls onto her back.

Dan: Oh, what a double stomp style front dropkick from Rich!

Mayne: I got to give Rich props for once for targeting Robin’s head, but I still despise both these individuals with a burning passion.

Douglas: Are you bitter that these two have kicked your ass on previous occasions?

Billy: I was playing possum, but they ran away too fast for me to respond like a lion, or a wildebeest, whatever sounds more threatening.

Robin is holding her forehead while she forces herself up to her feet, still bent forward until Rich steps to her side. He extends his knee, placing it on the back of the Black Widow’s head while reaching out, taking hold of her far arm. He extends it out to her side then drops backwards, yanking on the wrist and flipping Robin over towards him so that the back of his head slams hard into Rich’s knee. Brooks bounces off the knee sitting up and wrapping her hands around her noggin in pain while Jon stands up behind her. He rushes backwards into the cables behind Brooks, bouncing off then getting a running start before booting Brooks hard right to the back of her head. Robin screams out in pain, reaching up and wrapping her hands around her neck while Rich stops, spins around and delivers another hard kick this time with his shin right to her face. Robin is knocked onto her back while Rich turns his spine towards her and then drops down into a reverse roll. He does a headstand at Brooks’ spine then pushes himself up into the air off his palms, twisting and coming down with an elbow into Robin’s chest. The fans react with cheers at the sight of Jon’s tremendous flexibility. A very enraged Rich rises to his feet while in firm control until he turns his attention to the outside of the ring, stepping towards the cables. He slips through them onto the apron then looks back over the ropes, shouting something at Robin.

Rich: Your not getting off that easily!

A very intense Rich drops down to the outside mats, grabbing the tarp hanging from the ring and throwing it up into the air. He then reaches under the squared circle and removes a table to a huge eruption of cheers from the crowd. The Black Widow is still not moving though, remaining on her back and now holding her forehead while Rich leaves the table at ringside then reaches under the tarp once more. He now grabs hold of a trash can lid, dragging it out from under the squared circle then throwing it over the ropes to the inside before taking hold of a whole garbage can. That too is pitched over the ropes into the squared circle before Rich finds himself a steel chair from under the ring, opting to keep hold of this object as he slides into the ring. Robin has gotten to her elbows and knees, trying her best to force herself up onto her feet, yet she seems incapable of doing so. That’s when a vengeful Rich lifts the chair into the air and charges forward only for Robin to turn, catching him with a drop toe hold that sends Jon collapsing face first into the steel he was just clutching. Rich’s features bash from the metal while he gets to all fours, staring down into the steel now only for Robin to get up at his side then lunge into the air. She drops a leg to the back of Jon’s head, causing his features to be pushed down and in turn collide brutally with the chair. Jon hits off the steel then rolls onto his back, appearing out cold after the impact.

Douglas: Robin firing back with some hardcore offense of her own against Jon Rich, who brought those weapons into play only for them to come to use against him.

Mayne: If you can’t take the heat, stay out of the kitchen.

Dan: How does that have anything to do with what I just said or what’s happening in the ring?

Billy: It sounded funny in my head, and that’s all that really matters.

Jon Rich turns onto his elbows and knees, the N.H.B champion trying to force himself to his feet as Robin approaches the trash can lid that was thrown into the ring, scooping it up off the canvas. Rich puts one foot on the canvas with his other knee pressed to the ring when Robin lifts the lid, turns and slams it viciously over the cranium of the champ. The fans react with a groan as the steel meshes with Rich’s skull, knocking him onto his back almost immediately. He’s completely laid out at this point as Robin throws the lid away and then falls into the cover, showing that she can be just as hardcore as anyone.

Jon shoots his shoulder from the canvas, Robin rolling away from him in despair. She now crawls towards that dented lid, scooping it up while Rich is trying to force himself to a standing base. Again he has gotten one knee beneath him before Robin charges in and jumps into the air, sticking the lid under her feet then dropkicking it brutally into the side of his face. Jon is knocked from his knee and sent rolling onto his back with the fans screaming over the collision, the loud thud of metal connecting with skull. The N.H.B Champion is laid out on the canvas once more across his back, his eyes sporadically blinking as he tries to force himself up to his feet. Robin doesn’t let him get up though, instead she approaches the chair Jon tried to use on her, scooping it up and placing it on top of the champion’s face then running at the ropes at his side. She jumps into the air, landing feet first on the second cable then springing off into a moonsault before twisting in mid-air as she comes down with a back first splash right onto the chair, driving it violently into Rich’s face. Robin rolls across the canvas, screaming in pain while Rich flops all over the ring, clutching at his features.

Douglas: What a splash off the cables by Robin Brooks, driving that chair right into the face of Jon Rich.

Mayne: This is the one aspect of this match that I actually enjoy, watching two people I utterly loathe pulverize one another.

Rich is still gripping at his face while kicking his legs through the air, trying to block the pain in his face before Robin gets up and charges into the ropes at his side. She bounces off, coming back in then jumping forward into a flipping leg drop right to Jon’s throat. Rich’s body kicks up into the air as a result of the leg drop while Robin turns towards the turnbuckle, glaring straight up at it. She moves towards the corner now, slipping through the ropes onto the apron then beginning to climb up the turnbuckle, looking to finish this match off quickly just like Jon did a few moments ago. As she nears the top of the turnbuckle Jon begins to force his way to his feet. He turns and spots her right as she gets to the top, getting ready to deliver her Flying Star, unaware that Rich has gotten up in the ring. Just as she balances herself on the turnbuckle, Rich comes charging in, jumping onto the middle ropes next to the corner that Robin is standing on. He springs off, twisting then dropkicking Robin to the shin, knocking her feet out from beneath her and causing her to land straddling the turnbuckle. She groans in pain from the impact before Jon reaches up, taking her by the hair, dragging her away from the corner and pulling her over his shoulders in the process. He drags her out of the corner in a fireman’s carry position then turns his side to the chair he brought into the ring, pulling the Black Widow over into a huge Death Valley Driver. Robin flips out of it however, landing on her feet beside Rich, right over top of the steel chair. She turns to face Jon who comes barging in only to receive a kick to the gut and then be placed in a front chancery until the Black Widow drops back into a huge DDT, planting Rich head first into the steel. The collision echoes throughout the arena as Jon rolls onto his back, appearing out cold from the impact. The Black Widow gets to her elbows and knees crawling onto Rich, hooking his leg.

Jon gets his shoulder from the canvas in the nick of time, just barely retaining his N.H.B Championship. Robin sits up, a look of anger in her eyes, realizing she couldn’t finish Rich off just now. She rises to her feet and grabs Jon by the hair and drags him over onto his knees before slapping her arm around his neck. It appears that she’s ready to deliver the tornado DDT while pointing at the turnbuckle, intent on finishing Rich off. She goes rushing at the corner, stepping up it only for Jon to place his hands to her pelvis, elevating her into the air and then sitting her on the top of the turnbuckle. He pulls his head out of the front chancery then steps up the ropes with quickness, getting to the top one before jumping off and twisting, delivering a hard kick to the back of Robin’s head. Brooks wavers back and forth on the corner, trying to hold herself up while gripping at her cranium when Rich stands, stepping to her side. He grabs her by the hair, dragging her out of the corner and onto his shoulders before stepping around the ring. The fans start to scream as Rich pulls Robin off into a DVD right onto the laid out chair, Brooks’ body crashing with violent impact against the steel. Robin sits up, screaming in pain while interlocking her hands around the back of her neck.

Douglas: A DVD onto the chair! Jon decimating Robin with that move, he may have the win here.

Mayne: No, no, I don’t want it to end this quickly, prolong it, prolong it, keep beating the hell out of each other.

A battered Rich now crawls into the cover on Robin, hooking her leg with desperation.

Brooks shoots her shoulder off the canvas, turning away from Rich in the process who sits there with a flabbergasted expression on his face. He runs his hands down his features, realizing that although this match hasn’t been going for very long that he should have had the victory on several occasions thus far. Nevertheless, even through his duress he rises to his feet, grabbing Robin by the hair and rolling her over onto her knees before reaching down, grabbing the already dented steel chair off the canvas. He lifts it up and places it under Robin’s face before backing her into one of the corners then charging forward, dragging the Black Widow with him before jumping high into the air. He pulls Robin down face first into the chair and the ring with a bulldog. The Black Widow bounces off the steel then rolls onto her back, laid out after such a vile collision, yet Rich isn’t done yet. Something inside of him seems to have snapped as he grabs the chair off and begins to unfold it, sliding it over Robin’s head while she is still in this prone position. He then steps over her and approaches the ropes, sliding through the cables onto the apron before grasping hold of the top one. An almost demented expression fills his face before he springs up onto the top rope then launches himself forward into a senton bomb directed at the chair, threatening to bust her face and break her neck. At the last second Robin pushes the chair off her features, causing Rich to senton the chair only, slamming hard back first into it. He then rolls onto a single knee, grasping hold of the back of his head in pain, appearing to be almost out of it at this point. Somehow he remains upright though, just long enough for Robin to get to her feet, staggering around and falling back first against the ropes.

After getting her body prepared for more punishment she steps forward, grabbing the chair off the canvas and setting it up on the ring, unfolding it. It’s now in a seated position as Robin takes hold of Jon’s head, dragging him up to his feet and stepping around the chair so that Rich stands over the back of it. She drops down quickly into a stunner that pulls Rich down throat first into the chair, the crowd screaming over the impact while he stands, gripping at his throat, gagging from the pain. Robin rises to her feet and charges into the ropes in front of Rich, bouncing off then coming back in at her opponent, stepping off the chair, using it to launch herself forward. She then catches him around the neck, dragging him about before pulling him head first into the ring with a tornado DDT. Jon’s skull bashes violently off the canvas with the crowd responding thunderously.

Douglas: Oh dear God what a DDT by the Black Widow!

Mayne: I’d be excited and start screaming something cliché like new champion, new champion, but I’m not excited by the prospect of either person winning at this point.

The fans are still buzzing over that last move as Robin gets to her feet and approaches the trashcan. She almost falls over several times while lifting the can into the air, turning towards Jon who has just rolled to his knees, attempting to stand up. Before he can get to a standing base Robin swings the can downward and connects with an unbelievably vicious shot to Jon’s skull, almost knocking him out completely. Again Rich shows his reserve by remaining on his knees, albeit wavering back and forth, seconds from going down. Before he can though Robin places the trash can over top of him, trapping him inside. With a diabolical smile, as if this whole environment is finally rubbing off on her, Robin steps forward and delivers a shinning wizard right to the trashcan where the back of Rich’s head would be. The steel dents in around Rich’s skull while he bends forward, almost tumbling to the canvas, but Brooks keeps him standing long enough to deliver a shin kick to one side of the trashcan. She then delivers another shot to the other side of the can with the crowd groaning each stiff kick to the steel. Finally Robin turns away from Jon who continues to waver back and forth, approaching that same chair that has been used so many times in this fast paced, brutal contest. She lifts the chair into the air, folding it up then approaching the ropes, slipping through them onto the apron. Jon starts to stand up instinctively, staggering back and forth while still trapped in the trashcan before Robin springs up onto the top rope, then soars off, sticking the chair under her feet. To a huge response she dropkicks the chair violently into the trash can, driving the steel hard into Rich’s body and taking him down to the canvas finally. Jon’s legs are knocked out from under him as he tumbles to his spine, the trashcan all dented in around his frame.

The echo of both steel objects hitting one another echoes all throughout the arena as Robin turns onto her elbows, crawling into the cover on Rich and the trash can. She is sprawled out over the mangled steel as the referee drops and makes the count.

No! Somehow Rich kicks out even while trapped in the trashcan, the steel lifting from the canvas enough to indicate that he got his shoulder up. A frustrated Robin stands and then jumps into the air, catching some height before delivering an elbow drop to the trashcan, driving it against Jon’s already busted up body. The fans react with a mixed response as she rolls away from the steel, getting to her feet and again glaring at the turnbuckle. She lifts her hands into the air, circling them around one another, signaling for the Flying Star on her opponent stills trapped inside of the trash can. She steps towards it while clutching at her possibly injured elbow, stepping through the ropes and making her way up the turnbuckle.

Douglas: Robin looking to finish this one off.

Mayne: Oh yes, she’s going to finish Jon off and in the same instant destroy herself as well. This is great, greater than that action movie with Antonio Banderas and Lucy Lui.

Dan: That was the worst movie ever made.

Billy: Hey! Banderas has got womanly eyes, and it makes it impossible for me to stop watching the movie.

Douglas: Thank God there’s a match going on right now so that I can pretend I didn’t just hear that.

Rich is entirely prone in the trashcan as Robin is going for something big to finally end this intense No Holds Barred title match, the most violent one to date. She crosses her fingers over heart then jumps into the air, flipping through it and coming down with the shooting star press right into the trash can. The fans react with a huge wave of cheers as Robin’s body collides violently with the steel, immediately bouncing up onto her feet while bent forward, holding her arms over her chest. She doesn’t even realize that she failed to connect with Jon Rich who snuck out of the obliterated can at the last second. As the Black Widow stands there doubled over, she doesn’t spot Jon standing up in front of her, stepping forward with a superkick into the side of her face. The collision sends spit flying from Robin’s mouth before she turns and crashes into the canvas, Jon spinning around then dropping onto her, hooking her leg with the fans screaming.

Somehow the Black Widow barely gets her shoulder up from the canvas at the last second. Jon sits up, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide with disbelief, irate over the fact that Robin kicked out yet again. Part of him is shocked, and part of him is gaining an immense amount of respect for the Black Widow, the X-Class Champion.

Mayne: How the hell did Robin kick out of that one? It must be all those hormone medications she takes to look more feminine.

Douglas: I don’t know how but I am stunned, nay amazed that she was able to get her shoulder up once again even after landing with such a vile thud against that trashcan followed by the superkick to the face.

Jon gets to his elbows and knees with sweat dripping from his exhausted frame as his tired features turn to glare at Robin who lies on the ring motionless. He gets to his feet slowly now and takes hold of Robin’s hair, dragging her along with him, both of them moving in slow motion. After several agonizing seconds Rich spins Robin around, interlocking her arms about her throat and setting for the Get Rich Quick (Cobra Clutch Reverse DDT across knee). Robin suddenly reaches back with her leg in desperation though, wrapping it around Jon’s then using all her strength to perform a standing switch. She breaks free from the cobra clutch then switches around behind his back, locking her arms around his waist. She attempts to roll him over in reverse, pulling him down to the canvas onto the back of his shoulders then sitting on the back of his thighs, the fans standing and watching as she could have the title won here.

Rich grabs the back of her tights, pulling down on them and causing her to land back first on his chest while he locks his arms around her waist. He rolls over in reverse now, pulling Robin with him until they both end up on their feet with Jon standing up behind the Black Widow, placing her in a cobra clutch then dragging her down across the back of her head into his knee with the Get Rich Quick. A thunderous ovation comes from the sold out crowd as Robin falls onto her side, Jon grabbing her by the shoulder and pulling her onto her back, crawling into the cover.

Douglas: The Get Rich Quick! Rich nailed it, he nailed it on Robin.

Mayne: He hit that out of nowhere, and if Robin kicks out of this one, I want her testosterone level checked immediately!

The official drops and makes the count.

The arena erupts into cheers as Jon has just gotten the victory, successfully retaining his N.H.B title yet again. In an exhausted, battered state he drops onto his back, lying right beside Robin.

Douglas: Jon has done it, he’s defended the belt yet again and beaten Robin in a sensational main event here tonight!

Mayne: Color me apathetic. Hmmm, I wonder what color apathy would be.

The crowd is still screaming after everything they just witnessed while Robin and Rich lie side by side, trying to force themselves up to their feet. That’s when their reaction becomes much louder, everyone turning their attention to Psycho who is barreling towards the ring with a twisted expression on his face. He slides into the ring and immediately goes after Robin who was starting to turn to all fours. As soon as she started to get up Psycho blasted her over the back with a clubbing blow, taking her right down to all fours once again.

Douglas: Oh come on Psycho, you’ve already done enough to this young woman. Leave her alone already!

Mayne: For once I agree with this sadistic savage Psycho, no amount of beat downs will suffice for what Robin truly deserves. He’s not going to wait till Breathless to finish her off.

An exhausted Jon has dropped under the ropes to the outside mats while Psycho grabs Robin by the hair, dragging her already damaged frame to her feet then pulling her head under his seat. He wraps his arms around her waist then hoists her into the air onto his shoulders before powerbombing her with tremendous force into the canvas. Robin bounces off the ring then flips over backwards, landing on her chest and stomach, lying there absolutely motionless now. That’s when Psycho’s attention turns towards the table left at ringside that remained unused throughout this title match. Psycho drops down, rolling under the ropes then approaches the table and scoops it up against his chest, sliding it into the ring. The crowd is actually booing Psycho at this point, finally sympathizing with Robin who remains sprawled out across the canvas. Psycho has no sympathy, or morale guidance, he’s obsessed with purely dishing out punishment on the unforgivable Robin as he deliberately sets the table up just a few inches removed from the turnbuckle.

Douglas: No, no, stop this Psycho, stop this before you go too far like last week. This poor woman has suffered enough already.

Mayne: She’s barely even begun to suffer.

Psycho takes Robin by the hair, dragging her almost lifeless body to her feet then backing towards the turnbuckle, stepping around the table. Robin falls to her knees but is yanked back up to her feet as Psycho begins to scale the corner in reverse, sitting himself on the second rope. He looks around at the fans with a twisted expression on his face before dragging Robin’s head under his seat then reaching down, beginning to wrap his arms around her waist. It becomes clear that Psycho is going to tombstone piledrive Robin through the table from the top rope, lifting her into the air so that she hangs precariously upside down with his arms wrapped about her waist.

Mayne: Say goodnight to the princess.

Douglas: Somebody get out and stop this dammit, stop this!

Suddenly the fans start to scream as Hurse jumps onto the apron behind Psycho with the World title belt in his hands. The cowardly Champion jumps onto the ropes behind Psycho then slaps him in the back of the head with the gold, causing him to become disorientated and drop Robin so that she lands on her elbows and knees in a relatively safe position. Psycho continues to waver back and forth while standing on the corner before Hurse places his hand to his back side, shoving him forward off the canvas, sending his arch rival flying through the table. The wood shatters under Psycho’s body while he plummets into the canvas, lying their motionless now with the fans still screaming loudly.

Douglas: I hate to say this, but I’m actually happy to see Hurse for once, Robin certainly didn’t deserve to be put through that table.

Mayne: The hell she didn’t, but I guess Hurse is through making her pay for her continued connection with Killjoy, and oh yeah, Psycho just hilariously went through a table.

Psycho lies amongst the broken chunks of wood a motionless carcass at this point while Hurse slips through the ropes then steps to Robin’s side, screaming at her to get out of the ring. He points to the backstage area while a dazed Brooks listens, rolling under the cables, spilling onto her side across the mats. Hurse then spins in a circle to bring his focus back to the laid out Psycho, bending forward while clutching the World title tightly between his hands, prepared to break the skull of the man he’s been feuding with for years. Spit flies from his tensed features as he shouts at a still motionless Psycho to stand up, but Psycho is just that, motionless. That’s when again the approval of the fans is made clear as Hurse’s shoulder is grabbed from behind and the champ is spun around, being taken by the wrist before he’s dragged forward into a black hole slam by Chapel. The number one contender drives the Master of Control with tremendous force back first into the canvas, getting a huge response from those jammed into the Manhattan Center.

Douglas: Chapel coming out of almost nowhere and taking out the World Champion, finally getting his hands on him tonight as he’s been trying to throughout the whole evening.

Mayne: Leave him alone already you demented bastard, don’t come to Psycho’s aid and in the process attack our World Champion! Why can’t AWOL keep these guys on a leash?

Dan: The last thing that anyone could do is keep Chapel or Psycho under control.

The fans are still going nuts as Chapel stands up pure malice in his eyes before he reaches down, taking the World Champion by the throat then dragging him gagging and kicking into the air. Hurse lands on his feet before Chapel lifts him into the air and turns, throwing him back first against the corner, causing him to hit it hard spine first. Just as he ends up in this position Chapel comes charging in, splashing him against the corner then stepping back, beginning to deliver repeated body punches into the ribs of the Master of Control. Each shot causes Hurse to double over before Chapel uppercuts him to the jaw, knocking him spine first against the corner once more that’s when the rest of the Alpha Generation starts to charge from the back. Too Magnificent and Jackson Adams are in the front with Desolation following behind, the Dark Man watching on with a very intense expression on his face.

Mayne: Thank God, here come the reinforcements!

Douglas: I wonder how they’ll fare against this incredibly intense Chapel, if they’ll have any better luck than Hurse!

Jackson and Too Mag slide into the ring while Desolation begins to pull himself up onto the apron. Suddenly he’s grabbed by the leg though and dragged off the apron, Desolation landing in front of Rich who punches him hard across the jaw. The reaction from the fans is loud while Jon and Desolation begin to come to blows with one another, Rich finally getting his hands on the Dark Man.

Mayne: No, Rich and Desolation are fighting at ringside, he’s keeping the Dark Man from savin…I mean helping the World Champion.

Douglas: Jon must be relishing in every punch that lands to Desolation’s face right now. This is chaos out here!

Desolation is knocked backwards towards the barricade before Rich steps back then roars as he comes barreling in, delivering a clothesline to the Dark Man’s throat that takes them both over into the crowd. They almost immediately rise to their feet though, still coming to blows with one another, lobbing fist after fist into each other’s faces and bodies. Their struggle spills through the sea of swarming onlookers, greatly excited by this intense brawl between them, one they didn’t think they’d see based off the events of earlier in that night. In the ring Jackson has approached Chapel, grabbing him by the shoulder and spinning him away from a badly damaged Hurse in the corner. He spins around and delivers a right hand to the face of Adams, launching him backwards across the ring, crashing into the canvas. Adams rolls over backwards onto his chest and stomach while Too Magnificent charges forward at the War Angel, launching a lariat at his throat only for him to duck it. This causes Too Mag to lariat Hurse in the corner, the Champion’s body kicking into the air before he lands on his seat in the corner. Too Mag steps backwards with his hand over his mouth, shocked that he just laid Hurse out then turning to face Chapel who takes him by the throat. Before Too Magnificent can even think about countering he’s hoisted into the air and driven to the canvas with a thunderous chokeslam that shakes the whole ring.

Douglas: The Alpha Generation has been completely taken out! Hurse is all on his own for once!

Mayne: No, this can’t be, why can’t the Champion ever catch a break? Doesn’t he deserve one?

Dan: Something tells me Chapel is about to give him that needed break right now. A break in the neck.

Hurse wakes up long enough to spot Too Mag and Jackson down on the canvas and no sight of Desolation, causing him to turn and try to flee from the ring with quickness. That’s before he’s grabbed by the back of the pants, Chapel keeping him from getting away as he drags him back into the ring. Hurse is spun around and decked to the face by Chapel, taking him down hard to the canvas before rolling over backwards into a crawling base. He gets to his elbows and knees, glaring up at the War Angel before raising his hands into the air, praying as if that will save him. Tears are in his eyes as he begs for forgiveness only for Chapel to stand over him with a diabolical grin on his face. He doesn’t hesitate for long before reaching out, clasping his hand around Hurse’s throat, the Champion’s tear filled eyes bulging from their sockets while he’s led to his feet. Chapel is relishing this moment when a steel chair cracks hard over hiss pine, the fans reacting with disgust at the sight of a still bloodied Pat Evans. Chapel releases Hurse and falls to the canvas across his knees, yelling out in pain while Pat remains at his side, raising the chair into the air again. Evans arches the steel over his head then swings it down over Chapel’s upper back once more, the crowd reacting with utter dismay.

Mayne: Yes, yes, thank you Pat, thank you! If he didn’t come along Hurse might have had to bust out his super secret counter to Chapel’s move.

Douglas: Evans getting himself some revenge against Chapel for what he did earlier in the evening, ironically using that steel chair as well. I tell you, the issue between these two is really heating up.

Billy: All thanks to Chapel being completely out of control, but Evans is putting an end to that right now.

The crowd is still screaming in disgust while Hurse falls against the ropes, using them for support, leaning on them with terror still spread over his ghost white features. He now watches closely as Chapel gets to a single knee only for Pat to bounce off the cables at his side, stepping forward then throwing the chair right into the War Angel’s face. The impact is so violent it causes a loud echo throughout the arena and knocks the War Angel straight onto his back, his neck snapping in reverse at a dangerous angle. Pat steps back now while reaching up, slipping his fingers through the dribbles of blood on his forehead then flicking it straight down at Chapel before marching off. He turns his back to the Cartel Champion, not even stopping to look back before he slides through the ropes onto the apron, dropping off onto the mats and making his way up the ramp. There is zero emotion on his face or in his blank eyes as he makes his way to the back, having accomplished what he set out to do for the time being. Jackson and Too Magnificent have risen to their feet, glaring down at the almost out cold Chapel while Hurse steps away from the cables. He seems incredibly confident unlike before when he dribbled a little in his pants, holding his palms out and insisting he gets a piece of the number one contender before anyone else. He now begins to stomp away at Chapel repeatedly, who is unable to defend himself. He quickly drops down at Chapel’s side, holding the back of his head up and beginning to jab him to the forehead repeatedly. Too Magnificent and Jackson step in, beginning to stomp away at him maliciously, the War Angel unable to put up a defense.

Douglas: And now the hyenas are feasting on what the lion has left over. These Alpha Generation members are cowardly jackals, that’s all they are.

Mayne: For one they don’t walk on all fours, and also, they don’t have the jackal like laugh, actually Jackson might, but that’s beside the point. They had to graciously let Pat get through with Chapel, not that they needed his assistance, before they’d finish off this piece of crap that is the number one contender.

Psycho tries to get up but is stomped to the back of the head by Adams who spotted him out of the corner of his eye. Hurse has slapped his hand around Chapel’s throat, choking him violently while glaring with wide eyes into the pupils of the man who will challenge him at Breathless for the World Heavyweight title. The Alpha Generation, minus Desolation who battled with Rich into the crowd, are dominating the ring before…. This is the New Shit by Marilyn Manson slowly starts to play over the PA system. This leads into an almost indescribable eruption of cheers from the once flabbergasted crowd. Hurse’s eyes dart upwards then all around himself in a panic. Too Magnificent and Jackson Adams have stopped what they’re doing long enough to glance about at their surroundings as well as the lyrics continue to build registering greater anticipation from Killjoy.

Mayne: Oh no, anybody but this guy, anybody but this guy. Not now!

Douglas: These lyrics can mean only the arrival of man, Billy, one Hurse is all too familiar with.

All eyes suddenly shift to a spot in the crowd where Killjoy is now standing with a stoic expression on his face and a Singapore cane stretched over his shoulders with his palms on it. His eyes are focused on the ring while Hurse gets to a single knee, swallowing deeply. Killjoy immediately makes his way through the crowd with the fans still going crazy at the sight of him. Finally he reaches the barricade and steps over it to the mats, showing no fear but hesitating at ringside for a moment as he gazes into the ring at Hurse who has stepped between Adams and Too Magnificent. He seems reassured to have his teammates around him, all of them urging Killjoy to enter the ring. That’s when the former Annihilation World Champion grins then charges at the ring, rolling under the ropes to the inside. Too Magnificent rushes at him immediately only for Killjoy to stand up, swinging the cane right into his ribs. Too Mag is bent forward while Jackson charges at Killjoy, who lifts the cane into the air then bashes it straight over his skull. The crowd reacts with much approval as Adams is caned to the noggin, being knocked from his feet to the canvas across his back.

Mayne: Oh, Killjoy just caned Adams! Why is he doing this!?! Why is he helping two people who hate the woman he’s suppose to still love!?!

Douglas: I have no idea, the last thing I would have ever expected was Killjoy coming to the assistance of Psycho and Chapel, but his hatred of Hurse greatly outweighs any animosity directed at former arch rivals.

Hurse steps towards Killjoy then pauses as the Master of the Mind Games lifts the cane into the air and the Champion realizes both Too Magnificent and Adams have been taken out. The Master of Control swallows deeply, sweat rolling down his face as he and Killjoy square off, all their hatred for one another leading to this point. Robin has risen to her feet on the outside of the ring, staggering up the ramp in reverse and watching with wide, piercing eyes, shocked by what she is seeing. Killjoy and Hurse both turn to stare at Brooks, Robin’s eyes diverting between both of them. Her gaze is suddenly drawn to Killjoy’s face though, out of intrigue over what he is doing, and in turn infuriating the Champion. Hurse roars and charges forward right at Killjoy who turns in time to swing the cane with vile force right into his face. The stick almost breaks in half while Hurse is taken to the canvas, rolling about and flopping around in agony, bones in his face perhaps shattered just like the cane. He covers his features with both hands before rolling under the ropes to the outside of the ring, spilling to the mats while Killjoy throws the cane down. He now thrusts his arms out to his sides with the fans going nuts, all three Alpha Gen members laid out on the outside of the ring all around him.

Dan: Killjoy has taken out the Alpha Generation, and I have to imagine he took great pleasure in caning Hurse!

Mayne: This man is a sadist, a damned sadist, how could he bury his hatred for Chapel and Psycho just so he could come out here and cane Hurse? Why won’t he realize it’s over between himself and Robin?

Douglas: I don’t think Killjoy blames Psycho for what he did to Robin last week, I think there’s only one person to blame, and that’s the man he just caned right in the face. And this isn’t about love, it’s about freeing someone he loves from an abusive relationship.

Robin is frozen, unsure of what she should do, paralyzed by the meeting of her eyes with Killjoy’s. Even while Hurse rolls around on the mats, cupping his face and screaming in pain. She just stands there watching Killjoy in the ring as both Chapel and Psycho get up on opposite sides of him. Their features are intense and twisted with their brooding sights set on Killjoy, a man who has for many years been one of their staunchest, most bitter rivals. All three former blood enemies glare about at one another now as they step forward, looking ready to come to blows but then standing side by side, doing nothing.

Mayne: Wait, this can’t be, Chapel, Psycho and Killjoy standing together in the ring? For years these three have been trying to kill one another for Christ sakes. This can’t be.

Douglas: If these three ever got on the same page I shudder to think of what that would mean for the IWC.

All three men stand together in the ring, not coming to blows which shocks the cheering fans, Robin watching on from the ramp in shock. That’s when Chapel bends forward, grabbing the World title, lifting it off the canvas then raising it above his head to a huge collection of cheers.

FADE TO BLACK