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
If you feel so empty Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
So used up, so let down
If you feel so angry
Just get up
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.
RIOT!
Fireworks explode all throughout the arena, rather they’re shooting from the stage, or from the turnbuckle posts as the camera comes live to the inside of Louisville’s Freedom Hall arena. The crowd is jacked for another night of IWC action, or they’ve just had a lot of jelly donuts, hopping around in a crazed manner with their hands held high. The excited voice of Dan Douglas somehow breaks through the increasingly loud reaction so that he can be heard.
Dan Douglas: Another week of IWC Riot! is here, and what a night it promises to be.
The camera continues to pan around the crowd who is really excited by the prospect of tonight’s show, being here live for another big IWC event. Although they’re all kind of considered big, which really wouldn’t make any of them important at all. The camera turns to an annoyed Billy Mayne and an excited Dan Douglas seated beside him at the announce table.
Dan: We’ve got a show chalk full of action tonight that should push adrenaline junkies into an overdose.
Mayne: Yeah, and then the rest of the program will probably serve the purpose of making them regurgitate so that they don’t die from said overdose. Anyway, yeah, this should be a mildly entertaining show with such matches as Christian Savior vs. Jon Rich, Nathan Creed vs. Adam Riddick, the tag team title tournament starting, and least not of all, Orlando Cruze’s career officially coming to an end.
Dan: That is certainly a possibility, unfortunately, since Orlando Cruze and Too Magnificent will meet in a contract on a pole match in tonight’s main event. It’s just such a horrible shame that this is….
Dan stops his soapbox speech abruptly and puts his finger to the small microphone in his ear. A distressed look comes to his face.
Dan: Wait a minute ladies and gentlemen, I understand there’s something going down backstage right as we speak. Somebody get a camera back there quick., it’s something about a fight erupting!
Mayne: Oh goody, let’s start the show with some random violence!
NO BACKING DOWN
As quickly as possible the show cuts backstage where indeed fists are flying and anger has gotten the better of both Desolation and Jon Rich. The crowd erupts into cheers at the sight of both men brawling through a corridor, past several small but dangerous steel crates loaded on wheels. Rich is lobbing fist after fist into Desolation’s face as they back into the plain white wall with several shelves leaning against it. Jon is deranged looking as he continues to physically assault the Dark Man who pushes him away then steps forward with a hard, blistering slap to the side of Rich’s face. Jon spins away from Desolation who staggers a bit but then charges up behind him, delivering a hard clubbing blow right over his spine.
Billy: Jon Rich and Desolation picking up right where they left off last week, brawling with one another right as we open the show!
Douglas: This issue between both men has begun to get so personal that they can’t stay away from one another no matter how much they try.
They pass a group of hard steel loading bay doors mounted on chains as Desolation spins the N.H.B Champion around only to receive a high knee right to the gut. Jon throws a forearm into the side of the Dark Man’s face, causing him to turn away and stumble forward. That’s when Rich spins around spotting an almost filled plastic trash can, hoisting it up into the air as the contents within spill out then throwing it with force right into Desolation’s back. It bounces off his spine and causes the Dark Man to arch his back as he stumbles, groaning in slight pain. He passes the medium sized steel crates on wheels, falling against one for support, leaning on it while Rich approaches the wall, grabbing a steel serving pan which was conveniently placed there.
Jon: Your done for you son of a bitch!
The steel plate cracks hard over Desolation’s spine and causes him to fall down onto his knees, landing with the side of his head against the crate. Rich lifts the serving tray up into the air above his head before Desolation turns, staring up at him with longing, despairing eyes. The look Rich receives causes him to hesitate, almost out of sympathy for the Dark Man as he continues to lean against the crate in what appears to be a powerless state.
Desolation: Well go ahead, do it, finish me off Rich! Show me you have the balls to do it! Prove me wrong you mother fucker! Do it!!
Rich seethes but just can’t bring himself to smash in Desolation’s head before the Dark Man stands and catches him by the front of his pants. He now falls sideways and as a result drags Rich forward, causing him to build momentum then turn as his back hits the hard steel loading bay door. The N.H.B Champion roars in agony as he staggers away from the door, arching his back and reaching for his kidney area. That’s when Desolation rams his shoulder to his gut and charges him spine first into the door, ramming him hard against the steel. Rich reaches for his spine and roars at the top of his lungs once more while Desolation grabs him by the back of the head, dragging him away from the door. He turns Jon to face it once more and then whips him into it so that the top of his head meets the steel first. The collision rattles the whole door as Jon tumbles onto his side, writhing in agony, reaching for his back and the top of his head both at the same time. Pain is shooting all throughout his body while Desolation steps towards him and bends down, placing his hands on his knees.
Desolation: Do you see what just happened to you? That never would have happened to me. Why; because I don’t hesitate! That’s why you don’t deserve a match against me Rich, you don’t have that killer instinct, you refuse to do what needs to be done!
Desolation backs away from Jon slowly as Rich continues to lie on his side with his back to the door, mouthing obscenities in between grunts of pain.
Desolation: You can’t beat me Rich, you can’t beat me. Any attempt on your part would be an exercise in futility. Your too sympathetic Rich, you allow emotion to cloud your judgment, and it keeps you from doing things like this.
In one quick fluid motion Desolation steps behind the crate he was leaning on earlier then charges it forward before rolling it right into Rich’s ribs. Jon’s body is sandwiched between the crate and the steel loading bay door, causing him to flop up and down, rolling back and forth, screaming every four letter word he can think of. The pain is indescribable as the crate may have just cracked every rib in his torso. He curls into a ball to stay off the anguish coursing through his body while Desolation backs away slowly, a twinkle in his eye.
Desolation: You can’t beat me Rich, you can’t beat me. If you want to keep being reminded of that fact, I’ll be glad to demonstrate just how incapable you are of putting an end to the Dark Man, hahaha.
Taking one last long look, Desolation backs away from his victim, the N.H.B Champion trying to breath but finding it difficult after the damage just done to his torso.
DAVID MILLER VS. CHRIS HUNTER
Brooklyn hits the PA system and causes the crowd to have a very mixed reaction, mostly boos with a few intermingled cheers thrown in. Chris Hunter marches through the curtain with a very egotistical expression on his face, once again messing with the assortment of bling hanging from his neck. He holds it up to proudly display it while motioning towards it with one finger and finally reaching the ring. He rolls in under the ropes to the inside then stands up with his arms thrust out to his sides.
Douglas: My God, somebody’s got to get medical help backstage for Jon Rich after what Desolation just did to him. This issue between the Dark Man and the N.H.B Champion is really heating up.
Mayne: It started in that 8 man tag team match at Born Again and has built into so much more. But who cares about Rich when we’ve got someone cool in the ring right now in the form of Chris Hunter. Who was very impressive last week if it wasn’t for his loss at the hands of Aurora Rose.
Dan: I’ll try to keep everyone posted on what’s going down backstage throughout this match if I can. I can’t believe the chaotic way this show has just started.
Chris is rubbing and scratching at his red nose oddly now while looking incredibly disorientated in the ring, not mentally sound whatsoever. He slaps his palm against his temple to try and get his head straight. Without any kind of warning, the lights of the arena begin to lower, darkening the building with long shadows, enveloping the hushed crowd with a deepening darkness, just as the opening strands of a ghostly, almost eerie melody begin to leak from the speakers, echoing in the now silenced air. Seconds pass with nothing but the haunting music, before the somber, melancholy voice of Benjamin Moody rises up from the background, overlapping the melodic notes as they continue to linger through the shadows. The voice grows more powerful as it utters the words, the emotion in the pitch and tone building along with the music, as haunting melody and eerie music turn to a throbbing, pulsating beat, triggering the lights of the arena back into a matching life. Spotlights and strobes of metallic blue and black lighting assault the eyes and senses of the crowded fans, turning the building into a frantic rave, as the man grows even more emotional, almost calling out at the top of his lungs by the time he hits the last few lyrics.
Took From Me All That I Had
I Will Become What I Despise
With My Soul and Spirit Dead
Killing Everything in Me
What Is One Used To Be Free
Now to Drive Away the Pain
I Will Destroy All I Disdain
Living Someone Else’s Life
(Don’t Back Down!)
In the very instant those words trail away, a savage crescendo rips through the music, itself, sending the song surging into a powerful, violent rock rhythm, as well as drawing all eyes to the side of the arena, where the heavy set of double doors has just burst open on their hinges. Standing in the doorway, his frame silhouetted by the lights from backstage, stands the man himself, clad in his torn jeans and boots, his upper-body draped in a worn, and faded athletic jacket, the sleeves torn loose at the shoulders, the hood drawn low to hide his face in dark shadow as he steps into the massive crowd. With the chorus thundering through the speakers, Miller pushes through the crowd as if the people are not even there, shouldering them aside, pushing them away, while he makes his way to the barrier separating the floor from the ringside area, his gaze hidden by the hood of his jacket. Once he reaches the guardrail, Miller steps up onto it, going motionless as he just peers into the ring, standing tall over the screaming sea of fans below, who grab at his boots, his chain, his jeans, anything they can reach from wherever they stand. Lightning-quick, the man raises his hands, and tears back the hood of his jacket, unveiling that laser-intense stare as he trails it onto the bodies inside the ring, and offers up nothing but a calloused smirk.
Now Obsession Rules My Mind
You Took My Everything
This Compulsion Makes Me Blind
Searching Out Whoever Runs
Or Has Stolen Away My Life
But I Am Already Dead
I Take Your Dying Breath
Now I Can’t Feel Anything
I Live To Send You to Your Death
And Your Heart Will Bleed
As My Vengeance Is Spread
Your Life Will Turn to Dread
Because I Won’t Back Down
Dropping down off the guardrail, Miller begins to circle the ring, casually, his eyes never even blinking as he studied the helpless victims waiting inside, before he finally slides beneath the bottom rope, and pulls himself to his feet, a small roll of his neck causing the bones to pop and crack under the pressure. Peeling away the jacket, he drops it over the top rope, and allows a slow, cruel smile to slice across his lips as he backs into the nearest corner. Easing himself down into a sitting position in the bottom turnbuckle, his arms drape over the rope while the last lyrics of the song warn his opponent of the future.
Don’t Ever Back Down
I Will Drive You Down
Don’t Ever Turn Around
My End Has Come
So Now I Come For You
(Don’t Back Down!)
I Will Beat You to the Ground
My End Has Come
So Now I Come For You
(Don’t Back Down!)
Just as the lingering voice cuts loose with that last primal scream, Miller snaps his hands out, grabbing hold of the middle rope, and hurls himself up to his feet, eyes almost sunken into his head as his smile vanishes, replaced by a distanced smirk as he eagerly awaits the bell, and his chance to unleash his hell.
Douglas: David Miller this unusual enigma of an individual, came in here last week completely unannounced and laid out two IWC talents, putting them both on the shelf for who knows how long.
Mayne: Good ridden to them both, David Miller is better than the combined efforts of both those talents, plus, just look at him, he has sex appeal. Ladies like people with no hair, which is why I shave, and I’m talking about shaving the hair on top of my head.
Dan: Actually I think we are talking about shaving the same area Billy. Just calm down and stop hyping Miller, its his in ring action that is going to have to speak for his capabilities. Sure he’s done some things in SCW, but we’re talking about the IWC here, where past accomplishments mean squat.
Mayne: Then how do you explain Christian Savior’s and Adam Riddick’s immediate pushes?
Douglas: There’s no account for taste, Billy, there’s no account for taste.
Miller glares stoically at Chris who is appearing rather apprehensive, unsure of what to think of his opponent as he hangs back in his turnbuckle. David finally grins, showing some emotion as he strolls forward and extends his palm outward in Chris’ direction, making Hunter’s chest lower and a confident smirk to settle over his face. Both men take hold of one another’s palms, shaking hands as a display of respect before Miller shoots his foot into the air, delivering a vicious roundhouse kick right to the side of Chris’ face. He caught him completely off guard as Hunter is taken down to the canvas across his back, rolling on the ring to his elbows and knees. He appears stunned, knocked loopy by that last kick but forces himself upwards nevertheless. As soon as he stands up while bent forward, David steps in, taking hold of his arm, folding it around behind his back in a hammerlock then sweeping his leg out from beneath him. He drops back into a hard Hammerlock DDT, the top of Chris’ skull crashing viciously into the canvas. Yet Miller rolls over backwards onto his feet then grabs hold of Chris’ ears while he was on his knees, in a very dazed, disorientated state. He drags Chris up to his feet and hooks his leg and his neck then drops back into a C4 exploder suplex, slamming Hunter hard into the canvas across his spine. Hunter comes down on top of him then takes hold of Hunter’s neck, dragging him over onto his knees and pulling him up to his feet before clamping his arms about his waist, fluidly transitioning from move to move. He has Hunter around the waist then connects with a back drop driver that plants Chris right on the back of his neck and head.
Douglas: My God, David Miller is just destroying Chris Hunter in there, he’s absolutely brutalizing him!
Mayne: Now you see why this man is so dangerous and so talented, he’s destroying Chris Hunter in a manner of seconds. And here I thought Chris was actually cool.
”The Undying Rage” takes hold of a seated, yet motionless Chris’ waist, dragging him up to his feet then falling in reverse, connecting with another vicious back drop driver that plants his hapless opponent right on top of his head. Chris flips over onto his seat once more, blood dribbling from his nose as if he’s sustained a serious head injury from this series of vicious moves. That’s when Miller steps towards him and takes him around the jaw once more, physically forcing him up to his feet while dragging his arm between his leg and hooking up the other one. He has him in a pumphandle position then lifts him up into the air before twisting him and dropping him with a piledriver right onto his knees. Chris drops to the canvas and begins to convulse, tremors of anguish coursing through his broken frame while the crowd is screaming over what David Miller just did. He stands up with a soulless glint in his eyes as he steps over top of the carcass of Hunter, reaching down and wrapping his arms around his throat. He has him locked perfectly in the ear naked choke, beginning to strangle him violently and as viciously as possible. Hunter’s face has turned a bright shade of purple as he tries to force the arms away from his throat but is far too weak and powerless to do it. Miller headbunts the back of Chris’ skull repeatedly while squeezing even further at his neck, no air getting to Hunter’s brain whatsoever.
Douglas: David Miller is choking the life out of Chris Hunter!
Mayne: He’s not trying to beat this man, he’s trying to do nothing short of kill him, and he may have accomplished it already with this vicious beat down.
Veins protrude the changing colors of Chris’ flesh, as he now becomes a sickening shade of white, slapping the canvas with his palm repeatedly, tapping out to the agony. Yet Miller will still not let go of the rear naked choke, really squeezing at his neck until his head pops like an annoying little pimple. Hunter’s eyes flutter as they try to stay open, the referee stepping in and grabbing hold of his arm, trying to force him off of Chris, who is near death at this point.
Douglas: Chris Hunter has tapped out, he’s tapped out, so let him go Miller, let this poor young man go!
Mayne: No, keep him in the choke for making me think he was cool and betraying my confidence in him.
Drool is seeping from the corner of Chris’ mouth as his eyes seal shut, David taking great satisfaction as he hears the bones in his throat crack, trying to inflict as much suffering as possible on his opponent. Finally, not listening to the referee but feeling satisfied Miller releases his opponent, allowing him to drop face first to the canvas with blood oozing from his mouth. Miller steps over Chris as the official takes him by the wrist to lift his hand in victory, only for David to pull away and continue towards the ropes. He slides through them and takes one last look at Hunter spread across the canvas bleeding heavily from the mouth, having sustained serious injuries to his neck and throat. David waves goodbye to him then drops off the apron, marching up the ramp with an icy gaze in his eyes.
Mayne: What an impressive debut for David Miller, laying Chris Hunter to waste.
Dan: I don’t care for this man’s brutal tactics, but I have to admit, his debut was very impressive.
Billy: You got to be impressed when a man’s entrance is longer than their match.
The referee checks on Hunter and immediately throws his arms up in the form of a “X,” then motions for referees to come to his assistance. David Miller marches backwards onto the stage, still glaring towards the ring then snapping his fingers, motioning for something from the backstage area.
Douglas: Now what is Miller doing? Hasn’t he accomplished enough with the utter destruction of Chris Hunter?
Mayne: Nothing is ever enough when you’ve got the talent of David Miller.
Finally from the back an unfamiliar individual emerges through the curtains with what looks to be a guitar hanging from a leather strap around his neck. He peers back and forth at the crowd while caring a microphone and looking mostly apprehensive but slightly excited. David extends his palm as the microphone is handed to him by this unusual individual shrouded by a cloud of mystique.
David: Okay simmer down people, calm down, I know I was impressive but really there’s no reason to overdo it. No need to build my ego with your ovation, its not like it matters to me, or will determine rather I decide to step foot into an IWC ring again, because I’ve already made my mind up. I’ve decided that instead of shamelessly exploiting the over abundant weaknesses of the IWC roster that I’m going to do the gracious, humble thing and step aside to allow another to have a chance in the spotlight. A man who has struggled long and hard to get the exposure he deserves but has been denied opportunities simply because his style is different, because it doesn’t match up with the bland corporate filth that has been shoved down everyone’s throats. I’m talking of course, about Cody Mitchell!
David backs up and thrusts his open hands towards Cody, drawing attention to the singer and former boxer at his side. Mitchell nods and lifts his hand into the air slowly with the guitar still hanging around his neck.
Douglas: What? David Miller is stepping aside for Cody Mitchell?
Mayne: This guy must be good if this impressive Miller is willing to step aside for him.
Miller steps towards Cody’s side, lifting the microphone to his lips once more.
Miller: If you thought I was good, wait till you see this guy in the ring. It’s going to be a hell of a lot of fun, for us at least, with Cody standing in that ring and me managing him to true immortality. I decided to make quick work of what was suppose to be his first opponent tonight, because I decided it was simply not worth wasting his talents against a guy like Chris Hunter. No, he’ll step into the ring in matches that matter, against guys I’ve personally scouted to give him some competition, and I’ll be right there to coach him to countless victories.
That last statement is what he opts to leave the crowd with, dropping the microphone as his entrance music hits the PA system once more. Cody’s face tenses up as he had the guitar in his hands, ready to play a song and now appearing flabbergasted that David has got him hear to wrestle instead of being a musical headliner. His mouth hangs agape as he glares at Miller, giving him questioning eyes. However, David places a reassuring palm on his shoulder, trying to boost his confidence while motioning towards the back. Cody doesn’t seem to want to leave without at least playing a song, but Miller is quite insistent. Finally with a sigh and a sinking of his shoulders, Mitchell decides to listen to David, at least for the time being, marching to the backstage area with Miller’s hand on his shoulder.
Dan: Apparently we’ve got a new wrestler in the ranks of IWC ladies and gentlemen, David Miller’s hand placed replacement of sorts, Cody Mitchell. I’m anxious to see what this guy is capable of.
Mayne: Me too, hopefully he doesn’t play bluegrass songs. I’ve had about as much of that as I can take here in Kentucky.
Douglas: I was talking about what he’s capable of doing in the ring.
PAYMENT IN FULL
Sallie: This night is starting off so ubber fabulously, Krissie.
Krissie: I hope like everything so totally continues to go by our plans.
The anger from the fans intensifies to greater levels at the sight of both Krissie and Sallie strolling down the corridor with their arms about one another’s waists. Their hand placement is both comforting and highly suggestive as they mosey on down the corridor without a care in the world, pleasant smiles plastered all over their faces. Over one of Sallie’s forearms is a small leather bag with a tiny wiener dog sticking its head out of it, looking all around with a diamond ring in one ear. Sallie looks down at it with pride, her little prince. Krissie on the other hand has an incredibly tiny cellphone clutched between two fingers, text messaging someone with the very tip of her nail. She doesn’t even have to look at her phone while doing it as both ladies continue their stroll down the corridor.
Sallie: Well sweety, we’re about to ensure that tonight goes exactly as we, and the boss has planned.
Krissie: Oh joy, we about to drop in on our two steaming piles of hunky man meat?
Sallie nods with a smirk as they stop right in front of a large door with a huge star on it reading “Riddick & Savior.” A mixed reaction emanates from the fans at the sight of this, some of them still in staunch support of Adam Riddick, but the remainder of them appalled by the mere mention of Christian Savior. Sallie and Krissie put on their biggest smiles while twisting the doorknob and just stepping right into one of the most lavish dressing rooms in Freedom Hall without so much as even a knock. The camera moves in to catch both Christian and Adam who are standing in the middle of the room, not enjoying the many comforts of their new abode, instead arguing amongst one another. Kassie stands beside Riddick, shaking her head the longer this verbal spat continues between the two brothers. While Riddick seems angry, Savior appears a bit more condescending and light hearted, perhaps the stolen X-Class title over his shoulder soothing his demented mind. Sallie and Krissie hesitate for a moment as this conversation between the brothers continues.
Riddick: I still don’t understand why you had to drag me in the middle of this, Christian. I didn’t, and I still don’t want any part of this…
Savior groans but his smile doesn’t falter as he holds his palms out and places them on the wide shoulders of his brother.
Christian: Would you stop acting like a whiney bitch for three seconds and realize what kind of opportunities this new affiliation is opening up for us? This was the reason we were hired, we’ve got to fulfill our job obligations Adam.
Adam: I just don’t like this, I don’t like this one little bit.
Kassie: You really should have consulted with him before you pulled Adam into the middle of this quarrel, before you signed him up for all this.
Getting a little frustrated Christian holds his palm out in front of Kassie’s face.
Savior: Kassie, your not helping matters. Would the two of you just stop and realize that what I’ve done is the best for all of us? That we’re going to be sky rocketed to the top instead of having to toil away in meaningless matches against the lowest common denominator. Just calm down, go with the flow and I promise you won’t regret it.
Riddick: Yeah, I heard that before. If I had a nickel for every time you’ve told me that I’d have a shit load of nickels.
Krissie: I’m sorry, are we interrupting something here boys?
Savior, who already knew they were present, turns and smiles in their direction, Riddick however, shoots his eyes towards them, unaware they had entered the dressing room, thus catching wind of their argument.
Christian: Of course not ladies, Riddick and I can always make time for you. Right Adam?
Adam: Um, I guess.
Savior lightly slaps his brother’s chest with the back of his hand before crossing his arms over his sternum once more, forcing Riddick to roll his eyes and say it with a little more enthusiasm.
Riddick: Yeah, it’s just great to see ya.
Khane rubs sympathetically at the back of Riddick’s head the longer he’s forced to play along out of some twisted loyalty to his brother. Kassie and Sallie fail to see his apathy as they saunter forward with wide smiles on their faces.
Krissie: That’s excellent, just excellent.
Sallie: Indeed, because we’ve got a few surprises for our favorite roster members.
Sallie reaches out pinching Savior’s cheek as he keeps that fake smile on his face, playing along no matter how agonizing it might be.
Christian: Oh really? That’s wonderful, right Riddick?
Riddick: Sure, wonderful, yeah.
The two new assistants to the still mysterious backer of the IWC seem quite excited and pleased with themselves as they dispense with the information. Kassie watches them with obvious disdain in her eyes however, but opts to hang in the background, slightly behind Adams’ back.
Sallie: We’ve got a fun filled night for Nathan and Orlando, that’s for sure, and an evening that’s going to be totally exciting for the two of you.
Savior: Do tell.
Sallie: Gladly. You see, we’ve decided that Nathan’s and Orlando’s matches just weren’t interesting enough, so we’ve talked to the boss and we’ve decided to spice things up a bit.
Riddick and Savior seem actually interested now as they tilt their eyes and glare at the jilted lovers before them.
Krissie: Therefore, we’ve decided that the match between Nathan and yourself, Riddick, will have a special stipulation.
Sallie reaches into her bag and hands Adam a folded article of clothing, Riddick staring at oddly as he twists and turns it in his palms. He finally unfolds it, revealing a striped referee shirt which adds to his intrigue.
Sallie: Whoever wins between you and Creed, will be the special guest referee for the main event between Orlando Cruze and Too Magnificent.
Adam’s eyes fill with anger as he turns his attention to Savior who holds his palm up, begging him to keep his cool and play along.
Krissie: On top of that, in Nathan’s match tonight, Cruze is barred from ringside, and it’s the other way around for Orlando’s bout against Too Magnificent. However, Savior, Riddick, you can feel free to accompany one another to the ring for your various matches this evening.
Christian’s grin widens, liking the sound of this immensely as he strokes the stolen X-Class title over his shoulder. The fans on the inside of the arena are booing furiously at these announcements.
Sallie: So have fun boys, and remember that no matter what happens this evening, neither Orlando nor Creed are allowed to walk away from this building unscathed.
Nodding his head Savior agrees before slapping his brother on the chest, causing Riddick to begin nodding as well much to his duress.
Krissie: That’s all we came to tell you boys, so have fun and enjoy making the lives of Orlando and Nathan miserable, hehehehe.
Krissie and Sallie turn and wave their little fingers in goodbye to their enforcers while vacating the dressing room. Both Savior and Riddick are smiling but as the door closes behind the backs of S.K, Adam’s expression changes to one of anger. He turns his brazen eyes towards Savior, who holds his palms up, insisting that he doesn’t want to hear it.
Adam: What the hell have you got me into?
Savior: Just calm down, just calm down and start getting ready for your match, it’s coming up next you know. So there’s no time for petty bickering.
Christian marches off, and leaves Riddick standing there twisted by his anger. That’s before Adam lifts up on the referee shirt, sniffing it.
Adam: This shirt smells like dog piss.
Christian cringes but then walks away quickly, not wanting to hear anymore from his angry brother.
SEPERATION OF CHURCH AND STATE
We cut to backstage, where the Number One Contender to the IWC World Heavyweight Championship, the Cartel Champion Chapel, is walking down the hall, stern focus on his face and the Cartel belt slung over his shoulder, as the crowd goes wild. From down another corridor, a somewhat odd noise catches his attention, shifting his eyes in the direction, with the camera following suit. We push in tight as the focus shows...Axl Evermore, jogging slowly down his corridor and boxing the air, while his tag team partner MAX shouts Shane McMahon-style encouragements in his ear, the crowd going almost as wild.
MAX: COME ON, AXL!!! Ya gotta EAT LIGHTNING and CRAP THUNDER!! You're an ANIMAL! You're da' KING A' SUBMISSION! You're gonna be the next IWC SUBMISSION CHAMPION! WE'RE gonna be the next TAG TEAM CHAM-PEENS!
Chapel: (in their direction) I highly doubt that.
This causes Evermore and MAX to stop dead in their tracks, with their attention now fully focused on the Cartel Champion, who, despite his obvious perturbance towards Fully Loaded, is the picture of eerie calm.
Axl: And what makes you...oh, riiiight. Because you think...no, wait wait wait, you KNOW that YOU and PSYCHO are going to be the next Champions of the Global Tag-Team Crown. 'm I right? I'm right, aren't I?
Chapel: Looks like you're better at predicting the future than I gave you credit for. In fact, I'd even be willing to bet money that the very next thing you're going to tell me is that that waste of flesh and bone Psycho is actually going to manage to pull a victory out against you...right? No? Then get out of my sight, you two are almost as big a waste of air as Hurse and his ilk.
Evermore: (mock fear) Ooooohhhh, I'm so SCAAAARRREDED. Seriously though, VERY threatening. I'm sure the whole "damnation, hellfire, and brimstone" thing has really been working out for you these past 5 years.
Chapel: (annoyed) I AM the top seed in the Global Tag-Team Crown tournament, the Cartel Champion, AND the Number One Contender to the World Heavyweight Title, aren't I?
Axl: ...Touché. But my understanding is that you've NEVER been able to win the World Title when it truly counted...when it truly MATTERED. And I'd say a title match against the World-cum-Submission Champion HURSE, the one other person standing in the way of a free-market IWC, counts pretty heavily. Wouldn't you agree?
Axl and Chapel initiate a tense staredown as the camera, capturing both of them in profile, highlights the fact that the much larger Chapel is LITERALLY staring Axl down, much to the vocal delight of the fans. After a tense few seconds, Chapel's eyes shift to Evermore's right at MAX, who is staring up at him with equal intensity.
Chapel: And YOU, the green BUG...I hear you fancy yourself a religious leader now.
MAX's expression fades into an odd, twisted grin, almost of Chapel caliber.
MAX: (an oddly calm voice) Not LEADER, Chapel...more like a GUIDE. You see, unlike you, who likes to propagate WAR, I am LITERALLY in the business of selling something more akin to LOVE. You see, the Church of Hot Addiction isn't actually a CHURCH...nor is it a CULT, like I know you're about to compare it to.
Chapel: (nonplussed) Amazing how you two could read my mind like that.
MAX: Yes, we seem to have quite the knack for that...
Chapel: (a derisive smirk) So if your Church of Hot Addiction isn't a CHURCH, or even a CULT, then what exactly IS it?
To emphasize, MAX raises his outer arm grandly as the camera pulls out, putting the foreshortened arm in an awesome-looking perspective.
MAX: Look around you sometime, Chapel. It's the ENTIRE...HUMAN...F-ING...RACE. Hell...even YOU are a parishioner of the Church.
Chapel: Now I KNOW you must be high on that energy drink you chug down...
MAX: Just a little, 'bout half a cup...but I can CONFIRM that even YOU have worshipped at this altar, because YOUR Hot Addiction...is VIOLENCE.
The crowd lets out a huge cheer as Chapel's sneer curls upward to a smirk rivaling that of MAX's.
Chapel: ...Congratulations, Craven. You have successfully managed, however remotely, to group us together in a concept of your making, but in doing so, you have sadly confirmed my suspicions about you.
MAX waits for him to elaborate, but he simply walks off, self-satisfied smirk still on his face, leaving MAX to cock an eyebrow in his direction while Axl gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
MAX: What the hell is THAT supposed to mean?!
Axl: Just walk it off, man, we've got to warm me up for my match, remember?
MAX: Yeah...yeah...um...COME ON, AXL! FLOAT LIKE A BALLOON, STING LIKE AN ICEPICK! Calvan Greene's just another TANK-DOGG to you!! YEAH!! MIDDLE OF THE RING!!
They jog off-screen, Axl resuming his air-boxing, as we fade to black, but not before something unusual appears in the background. A figure materializes behind Evermore and MAX, watching them waltz off in preparation for Axl’s match. David Miller saunters forward from the shadows, placing his elbows to the top of a crate and leaning against it as he tilts his head and continues to observe both MAX and Evermore with a rather amused expression on his face.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
NATHAN CREED VS. ADAM RIDDICK
"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, but instead of seeing Adam Riddick arrive via motorcycle, he marches from the back with a lowered, shaking head. His disgust is as clear as day while Christian Savior follows behind him, saying something into his ear. They appear to have left Kassie in the back, most likely for her own safety as the two men who have been conspiring with S.K march towards the ring.. Christian does so confidently, but Riddick doesn’t even seem to approve of his brother accompanying him.
Mayne: And here are two men I’ve quickly gained a lot of respect for in just the span of a few short weeks. Adam Riddick and Christian Savior have made an immediate splash here in the IWC, especially last week when they laid out Cruze and Creed, leading to this match tonight.
Douglas: Oh, stop shamelessly kissing their ass. They do have a lot to be proud of, and a lot of talent, but you like them for all the wrong reasons. Savior’s mere presence alongside his brother makes me dread the outcome possibilities of this match.
Riddick has rolled into the ring with a lowered head, still shaking it as Christian remains on the outside, gazing about with a pompous smirk on his face, overly confident in his brother’s abilities. Tension fills the air in anticipation of the next superstar to enter the ring when the lights dim down. Strobes float around the arena as the opening chords of ‘Polyamorous’ by Breaking Benjamin fill the arena
“LETS GOOOOOOOO!!!”
The vocals are screamed as the song kicks up a gear and Nathan walks through the curtains to the cheers of the local fans. He psyches himself up and he slowly approaches the ring, the lights flickering around him. As he nears the ring the chorus kicks in and Nathan dashes to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope. Riddick watches him with disdain and sympathy as well.
Douglas: Nathan is out here and boy does he ever look focused for this match tonight. He’s got a lot of pint up hostility based on what transpired on the last Riot!.
Mayne: Why’s he mad, because his girlfriends did the right thing and expressed their god given right to fuck with their ex boyfriends?
Dan: How you can sit there and support those two ladies, considering the sheer amount of ex wives in your past, is beyond me.
The crowd is watching impatiently as Riddick glares across the ring at Creed who is pacing in front of him. Adams’ eyes then shoot towards Savior cheering his brother on at ringside then they roll to the back of his head with a sigh of despair. It might have been best to keep his eyes on Nathan because as soon as the bell rings Creed comes barreling towards him. Before Riddick can even turn and notice him, Nathan spears him hard to the gut, driving him back first with force against the turnbuckle. Adam unleashes a deep breath from the pain before Creed steps back, keeping his shoulder buried to his ribs and lifting him into the air. Using all his strength Creed lifts Adam and charges him spine first into the turnbuckle once more. Riddick’s arms fall over the ropes in pain before Creed stands up and delivers a brutal, sensational chop right across Adams’ chest. The force of the chop knocks Adam off of his feet and causes him to land back first on the canvas, Creed stomping down at his face as he hard as he can. The stomps are delivered with almost enough force to break Riddick’s nose before he rolls under the ropes to the outside of the ring, collecting himself. Before he can do so Nathan slides under the ropes and charges right up behind Adam, clubbing him violently over the back. Riddick is bent forward before Nathan takes him around the waist and German suplexes Adam spine first into the outside mats. The crowd screams in shock over the impact of Riddick’s body with the thin padding, a ravenous Creed rising to his feet as he almost foams at the mouth.
Douglas: Nathan has snapped here tonight, giving Riddick a German suplex on the outside mats right at the beginning of this match!
Mayne: Is he still all fired up at these two because they beat the shit out of him last week, and are working with Sallie and Krissie?
Dan: It’s only been like a week since that happened, of course he’d still be pissed off.
Billy: I wouldn’t, I don’t care about all the ladies I’ve left dissatisfied from my past. Wait, wait, can I change that to satisfied? Please let me change that.
Dan: This is live TV!
Riddick lies on his side, holding his spine while Savior stares down at him and steps towards his brother. He looks up in time for the furious Creed to come charging in and almost ripping his head off with a lariat. Savior is knocked down hard to his side while the snarled breaths of Creed can be heard throughout the ringside area. Again his attention focuses on Riddick trying to stand up only for Creed to step in and deliver a hard forearm to the side of his face, followed by another one. Each blow staggers Adam before Nathan steps forward for one last forearm strike only to have the Renegade side step it and catch him by the back of the head. He forces Creed forward, spinning around and striking the barricade with his spine. As soon as the frantic, rabid Nathan hits the steel, Riddick steps in with a superkick right under his jaw. The collision sends Creed twisting then spilling over into the crowd who clear out of his way. The fans are stunned by the frantic start this match has gotten out to as Creed now lies amongst the fans, trying to get his head straight, attempting to fight back to his feet although incredibly light headed. He’s operating on pure adrenaline and anger alone over all that’s gone down these past few weeks. He grabs the barricade, using it to force his way to his feet before Riddick steps in and drills him to the side of the face with a powerful boot shot. Nathan falls down on top of the barricade, his arms tumbling over it, dangling above the mats. His eyes are glazed over and gazing far away as Adam wraps his arm around his neck, preparing to vertical suplex him over onto the mats.
Adam buries his feet to the mats and tries to lift Creed only to be given a hard jab to the ribs by a resilient, fired up Nathan. He breaks free from the suplex attempt and grabs Adam by the hair, lifting up on his cranium and delivering repeated headbunts to the face of the Renegade. Riddick’s knees buckle after the third headbunt as an almost demented Creed places him in a front chancery, suplexing him over spine first right onto the hard concrete. The fans gathered around cheer and watch on in shock as Riddick turns onto his side, holding his lower back while howling in pain. Nathan is not holding anything back though, trying to force himself up to his feet almost immediately as does Riddick. The look of pain on Adams’ face is truly derivative of the anguish circulating through his body. He gets up when Creed steps in and chops him vicious to the sternum once more. Adam turns away from Creed, feeling his chest to make sure his nipples are still there before Nathan clubs him hard over the back.
Douglas: This match, no this war between Creed and Riddick has spilled over into the crowd. This thing is getting really violent and fast, as neither of these men are holding anything back against one another.
Mayne: All Creed’s doing is wearing himself out early in the match. This man has no endurance, I’ve seen him use a thigh master, he gets warn out after two minutes of using it.
Dan: I don’t even want to touch that last comment with a ten foot pole.
Riddick staggers forward when Nathan steps up behind him, taking hold of the back of his head, standing him up right while pushing a fan out of their chair. He now pulls Adam down face first into the steel, causing him to stand up straight and stagger in reverse once again. He catches himself right before going down until Nathan takes him by the hair, spinning him around and placing his shoulder right into the small of Adams’ back. He seems to be setting him up for a back drop suplex on the concrete with the fans screaming. That’s before Adam drives his elbow down into the back of Nathan’s head and keeps doing it over and over again. Creed is doubled over from the strikes as Adam turns, taking him around the neck and dragging him around into a huge spinning neckbreaker. The back of Nathan’s head and shoulders bounces hard from the concrete, causing him to writhe and convulse from the agony. The only thing referee Princeton can do is watch on from the ring, having been warned what would happen to him if he didn’t extremely relax the rules.
Nathan is still gripping the back of his neck before Adam takes him by the hair, dragging him up to his feet while trying to fight through his own pain as well. He drags Creed up to a standing base then takes him by the back of the head, charging him through the crowd before finally depositing him over the barricade and onto the outside mats. Creed hits them hard spine before rolling across them to his elbows and knees, trying to force himself to his feet. Just as he starts to he falls side first against the exposed turnbuckle post, propping his head up against it when Riddick charges in and delivers a boot to the other side of his face. His skull is driven hard against the turnbuckle post, causing him to go into a fit, convulsing around on the mats while wrapping his hands around his skull, as if it may have just been cracked.
Mayne: Creed’s head cracked into the ringpost, Nathan’s head smashed against the steel, The Future’s brains splattering like a twisted thing of moldy Ragu…
Douglas: Enough, we get it already, Creed could be badly hurt by that last move.
Billy: But I have so many more. Creed’s cranium cracked like a vanilla wafer…
Dan: This is only a two hour show!
A very concerned Princeton is shouting through the ropes at Nathan, asking if he’s okay to continue. Riddick steps over the body of his opponent, no longer caring a bit about his condition before rolling into the ring under the ropes. He gets on his knees and begins to discuss things with Princeton, taking his focus off Nathan who is trying his best to get to his feet on the outside mats. As soon as he gets up though, a now risen Savior charges up behind him, grabbing his head and the back of his tights before charging him head first right into the ring steps. The top of his skull bashes with a violent thud from them before he turns and rolls across the mats, laid out completely at this point. Princeton looks to the outside of the ring as he heard the impact, shouting at Savior who backs away holding his palms up, acting as if he did nothing wrong at all. Even if he did there’d be nothing for Princeton to do about it as Creed forces himself up to his feet on the outside of the ring, using the barricade to his assistance and holding his head as if it’s about to burst to pieces. A pounding pain emanates from beneath his skull as Riddick rolls to the outside of the ring, taking him by the hair and pants, rushing him at the ring and sliding him in across his stomach. Creed turns over onto his back still holding his head with both hands as Riddick crawls in after him, dropping down and hooking his leg.
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Creed gets his shoulder off the canvas to the surprise of both Riddick and Savior. Adam pushes Creed over onto his stomach in a fit of rage and begins to deliver repeated forearm shots over the back of his neck and his head. Each shot results in a roar of anguish from Creed, who can’t get up to defend himself. Before he can even think of it Adam stands and drops a leg across the back of Nathan’s head. The impact causes Nathan to flop on the ring like a fish gasping for air, but none can make it into his lungs as Riddick steps over his back, taking him by the jaw and pulling him up into a quick camel clutch. Creed groans in pain as Riddick continues to really hold him in this submission, trying to force himself to tap out quickly, which could be a real possibility considering the several impacts his head has taken in this quick violent match. Riddick twists at Nathan’s head while gripping both the top of it and his jaw within his massive hands, squeezing at it until Creed’s ear feels like it’s about to burst forth from his ears. Nathan is shouting in pain but his mouth is forced shut by the vice like grip of Riddick, who is being cheered on by Savior at ringside, pleased that his brother is now fully devoted to breaking Creed’s skull in the palms of his hands. A twisted look has overcome an angered Riddick while Creed tries his best to force himself up out of this submission. Just as he starts to get up Riddick switches the hold, falling to the side of his body and taking hold of his arm in the process.
Mayne: Riddick going for a crossface. They still allow this move in the U.S? I thought people weren’t allowed to use it, otherwise it might imply that Chris Benoit actually existed.
Dan: I’m sure you just love your politically incorrect banter.
Mayne: I’m quite attached to it yes. It’s brown on me like bumps on my dick after sleeping with your wife.
It’s clear that Nathan needs to think quickly, if he gets trapped in the crossface it’s all over given the condition of his head. He ducks it forward and rolls across the canvas, getting to his feet before spinning around to face the shocked Riddick. Adam thought he had him in the crossface, but Nathan has turned towards him, taking him around the legs then jumping forward. He drops down back first on Adam’s chest and stomach, holding up his legs and pinning his knees to his shoulders, lying on top of his angered opponent.
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Adam wraps his arms around Creed’s waist using all his back and leg strength to bridge himself up out of the pin, carrying the weight of his opponent as well. Both men stand and spin to face one another with Creed tucked under Riddick, who has him in a powerbomb position. Adam turns around though, dragging Creed with him and dropping to his knees behind Nathan’s back, attempting to back slide him over onto the canvas. Instead of accomplishing this Nathan pushes up with his legs and flips over Adam’s head, landing on his feet right in front of a stunned Riddick. Creed charges forward when the Renegade stands and throws a lariat at his throat, Nathan ducking it while switching behind his back, clamping on a reverse waist lock. He now attempts to lift for the German but Riddick wraps his leg around Creed’s, blocking the attempt. He now spins to face Nathan, catching him around the back of the head and dragging him down to the canvas into a small package.
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Somehow Nathan kicks out of the small package , dropping onto his side while Riddick stands up, both men rushing one another to their feet. Riddick throws a lariat only for Nathan to duck it and now catch Adam with a quick backslide into a pin.
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Adam kicks out and rolls over backwards before stepping forward towards a crawling Creed and delivering an brutal boot directly to the top of Nathan’s head. The sound of the kick echoes throughout the arena, causing Nathan to almost fall over, yet he remains in a crawling position almost out of shock, unable to move after taking such a stiff blow to the skull. That’s when Adam steps over Nathan’s head and reaches down, hooking up both of his arms and taking him around the back of his legs as well. Riddick lifts Creed up into the air, holding him upside down while holding his wrists pinned to the sides of his thighs, making Nathan’s head entirely exposed. Riddick jumps into the air, coming down posterior first to the canvas with a package piledriver. Creed’s frame folds up like an accordion then springs into the air before landing on his side. An already tired, battered Riddick crawls into the cover, hooking Nathan’s leg.
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Creed kicks out to a thunderous ovation from the fans, forcing Riddick to sit on the canvas stewing and wallowing in outrage.
Douglas: Nathan dropped right on his head with that package piledriver! He may have some serious cranial injuries after all these blows to the skull.
Mayne: I think Savior is finally starting to wear off on his brother, because Riddick has been ruthlessly attacking Nathan’s head throughout this whole match.
With trembling lips Riddick rises to his feet, approaching Creed who is somehow forcing himself up to his feet. He gets to a knee when Riddick charges in and delivers a straight, vicious boot right to the side of Nathan’s head. The collision is heard throughout the arena, sounding rather stiff while Nathan is knocked of his knee and sent crashing onto his back, looking completely out cold. An ever intense Adam approaches the Future and takes hold of his battered opponent’s head, forcing him to his knees and dragging him towards one of the turnbuckles. He leans the side of Creed’s head against the second turnbuckle pad then extends his foot, placing it to the opposite side of Nathan’s skull. He places his hands to his knee and shoves down on his leg, squishing Creed’s cranium between his boot and the turnbuckle. Nathan is shouting in pain, trying his best to knock the leg away to the best of his abilities, but he can’t do it, far too weak at this point in order to stop this. A reluctant Princeton is forced to do his job, stepping forward and starting a five count. He reaches four before Riddick takes his boot away from Nathan’s head, stepping in and throwing repeated right hands into the side of his skull. The impacts finally knock Nathan down to a seated position against the corner before Riddick backs away into the diagonal corner, turning to face his very battered, incredibly dazed opponent. Adam stares across at Nathan, debating rather he should do what he has in store or not while Savior slaps the apron and shouts at him to do it already. Finally Riddick takes a deep breath, charging full speed across the ring then lobbing a hard running knee directly to Nathan’s face while seated against the corner. Creed again goes into convulsions, flopping around while seated against the corner as he grips at his skull, which may be cracked at this point.
Not much time is given for his head to recuperate as Riddick charges across the ring into the ropes on the opposite side of Nathan’s body, bouncing off them coming back in at the seated Future. He extends his foot and delivers a vicious face wash directly to the cracked cranium of his opponent, again causing Nathan to flop into the air. He wraps his hands around his head and rolls under the ropes to the outside of the ring onto the apron, grabbing hold of the cables as he tries to force himself up with a very groggy glint inhabiting his dreary eyes. They blink sporadically, his brain trying to properly function at this point but finding it difficult to do so after all the collisions that he’s taken to the head. He drags himself upwards nevertheless, on sheer instinct alone as he gets to his feet, almost losing his balance however when Riddick steps towards him. In a quick motion Adam throws a forearm over the cables right into the side of Nathan’s head. The shot almost knocks Nathan down yet he keeps standing while Savior slaps the apron, demanding that Riddick hit him harder this time, that he puts a closed fist into it. Riddick rolls his eyes then throws a closed fist into the side of Nathan’s face before reaching over the ropes, placing the incredibly dazed Nathan into a front chancery. With a grunt he swipes his leg at the canvas then lifts Creed up into the air, holding him upside down while stepping backwards across the ring. He seems to be setting up for something big, intending to drop Creed on the back of his head when Nathan suddenly transitions with his body. He floats over, landing on his feet behind Adam and wrapping his arms around his waist, then dropping back into a huge German suplex.
Douglas: Nathan countering into the German!
Mayne: Damn him using this move as a crutch every time he gets into a rough spot.
Dan: You got to use what is effective Billy, and this has always been an effective move in Nathan’s arsenal.
An intense, yet faded Nathan drags Riddick over and slams him violently into the canvas across the back of his head and shoulders. Instead of dropping sideways he rolls over backwards over top of Riddick’s back, pulling him up with him while keeping his arms wrapped around his mid-section. He forces Adam up to his feet in front of him and hooks his arm in a half nelson before hoisting him into the air, turning as he drags Riddick down into a back breaker across his knee. The crowd reacts with enthusiasm as Riddick bounces off the knee of Creed spine first and falls over backwards, landing on all fours. He reaches for his spine in tremendous pain before Nathan steps over his head, reaching down, wrapping his arm around his neck then dropping back into a vicious DDT. The top of Adam’s head crashes hard into the canvas, causing him to flop over sideways onto his back, appearing completely spent. Savior places his hands on the top of his noggin, shaking it back and forth in disbelief while Creed hooks Adams’ leg, going for the pinfall.
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Riddick shoots his shoulder from the canvas in the nick of time. A tired, glazed over, and barely conscious Creed sits up breathing heavily, his eyes rolling to the back of his head in the process. He shakes his head and keeps his brain straight for a moment while forcing himself to his feet, Adam getting up slowly as well, much more slowly though after that lethal onslaught of moves. He rises to a standing base when Nathan steps towards him and delivers a hard kick to his gut, then places him immediately in a front chancery, backing towards one of the turnbuckles. The fans are stunned before Creed snaps over backwards, vertical suplexing Riddick spine first into the corner, Adam hitting it hard with force. Riddick bounces off the turnbuckle then drops over onto his chest and stomach, convulsing from the pain coursing through his frame. Christian buries his face in his hands, lowering his head while in the ring Riddick is holding his spine in horrific pain, a very groggy Nathan falling into the cables at his side. Sweat is spilling down his face and body more so than it should be right now, perhaps suffering from a concussion that is weighing his whole body down, exhausting him more than it normally would be at this point in a match. He staggers forward nevertheless and stomps Riddick to the back of the head then reaches down, wrapping his arm around his neck. He places him in a front chancery while forcing Adam to his feet then dropping back, vertical suplexing Riddick into the turnbuckle once more. The Renegade’s spine connects with a hard thud against the corner before his leg gets caught around the top rope, now hanging upside down from the turnbuckle in a tree of woe.
Dan: Riddick is certainly caught in a precarious predicament, at the mercy of his vengeful opponent.
Mayne: You might want to add that his vengeful opponent seems to have sustained a concussion at the hands of Riddick.
A still groggy Creed reaches down, grabbing hold of Riddick’s hair, lifting up on it and causing Adam to be elevated into the air over the canvas before Nathan open hand chops him stiffly to the sternum. The impact causes Adam to go back into his hanging position, hung upside down from the turnbuckle just as dazed as Creed at this point, who is backing across the ring in an opposite corner. With fiery eyes Nathan charges across the ring right at his opponent then jumps high into the air, delivering a hesitation dropkick directly to Adams’ face. The Renegade Rocker begins to shake violently and flail his arms before covering his face as Nathan rises slowly to his feet. He grabs hold of Riddick’s hair, dragging up on it and causing Adam to be seated on the top turnbuckle with his spine facing the Future. A sweaty, tired Nathan starts to climb up after him, delivering a clubbing blow over the spine of Adam, then delivering another shot to his upper back. Nathan steps up the turnbuckle now and wraps his arms around Adam’s waist, climbing behind his battered, dazed opponent. He steps up onto the top of the corner and drags Riddick to his feet slowly. With his arms clamped about his mid-section he tries to German him off the turnbuckle but Adam holds on, trying to avoid it. Finally he throws an elbow into the side of Creed’s head, followed by another strike to his cranium, each blow dazing the already battered Nathan, his skull throbbing in pain. With one more elbow to the temple Nathan is knocked from the top of the turnbuckle, sent flying down to the canvas spine first. He hits it hard while Riddick gets to his feet, turning to face the down Nathan, Christian shouting at him to finish him off.
Riddick again rolls his eyes and balances himself on the corner before flying off with a huge frog splash directed at Nathan’s upper body. Creed rolls out of the way at the last second though, Adam hitting the ring with force, bouncing up onto his elbows and knees. He immediately reaches for his mid-section, crossing his arm over his gut while closing his eyes and mouthing obscenities to himself. All the while Creed has rolled under the cables once more onto the apron, grabbing hold of the ropes to drag himself up to his feet, Adam has gotten to his feet though, stumbling towards him. He reaches over the ropes when Nathan turns his back towards him, wrapping his arm around his neck then dropping down into a stunner that pulls Adam throat first into the top cable. Riddick bounces off the ropes then flies backwards, landing spine first across the ring. He is completely laid out while Nathan drags himself to his feet then steps towards the corner at his side. In a very dazed, almost incoherent state the Future climbs the turnbuckle, getting to the top rope then almost losing his balance. He shakes his head several times though, attempting to keep his mind straight on the objective but finding it increasingly difficult. Just as he prepares to launch himself Riddick gets to his feet and steps towards him, pushing on his ankles, knocking his legs out from under him. Nathan lands crotch first on the turnbuckle, bending forward before Adam jumps into the air, delivering a stiff knee right to Creed’s face. The impact causes Creed to sit up straight on the corner, his eyes incredibly dazed over. While his opponent is prone Adam climbs the corner in front of him, reaching out and locking his arm around his neck in a front chancery. Adam glares towards Savior, demanding he do what he’s thinking before Riddick grimaces and lifts the already injured Nathan into the air, holding him upside down then giving the brainbuster on top of the turnbuckle! The crowd reacts with absolute shock and astonishment at the sight of Creed’s skull cracking against the top of the corner while he collapses onto his side on the apron. Convulsing around he rolls under the ropes to the inside of the ring while Riddick climbs up onto the turnbuckle.
Douglas: Riddick just gave Creed the brainbuster onto the turnbuckle! His neck may have been broken by that move.
Mayne: Now your just doing some wishful thinking.
Creed has rolled to a few feet away from the corner while clutching at his head with both hands, feeling as if his brain is about to leak through the cracks which may have been created from that last move. Adam gets to the top rope while glaring at Savior, who is giving a thumbs down, forcing Riddick to groan before he stands up tall on the highest point of the turnbuckle. He now takes to flight, soaring through the air and delivering a frogsplash right on top of Nathan’s head. The landing causes Creed to begin convulsing and going into almost what looks to be a seizure as Adam hooks his leg, going for the pinfall.
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The crowd responds with a mixed ovation at the sight of Riddick picking up the pinfall in this highly emotional battle.
Douglas: Adam Riddick with a huge victory via the brainbuster on the turnbuckle, and a frog splash right on his head. Talk about gruesome, it’s a testament to Creed that it took that much to finish him off.
Mayne: What an intense, hard hitting battle between these two, but Creed’s head just weighed him down too much, which is odd since it has little in it.
Savior has now entered the ring and is stomping away at Creed while he is down. His boots connect to the top of Nathan’s head and face while Riddick leans against the cables for support. Finally he turns around and spots his brother assaulting his opponent, Adam getting mildly upset it appears as he moves towards his brother/tag team partner. He pushes on Savior’s chest, forcing him backwards away from Creed before getting in his face, asking him what he’s doing. Christian puts his palms up and begins to explain himself until Riddick swipes them down out of the air and again begins to question his brother.
Douglas: Some dissension amongst the ranks here between Riddick and Savior. Adam wanting to be honorable, and Savior trying to dishonor this victory by attacking Creed after the match is over.
Mayne: Oh come on Adam, stop questioning your brother and just go along with the flow, do what you’ve been paid to do.
While Savior is explaining himself to Riddick, Nathan has utilized this time to roll under the ropes to the outside of the ring. He drops to his knees on the outside mats holding his skull which may have been fractured before reaching under the squared circle. The fans rejoice as Creed removes a steel pipe, which he slaps against his palm then rolls back into the ring. Riddick is still arguing with Savior when Nathan steps up behind him, cracking him in the back with the steel pipe. Adam is knocked forward as a result, Savior catching him as both men crash to the canvas. Moving as quickly as he can, Savior rolls himself and Riddick under the ropes to the outside of the ring and out of harms way. Nathan swings the steel pipe at them wildly but doesn’t connect while Savior and Riddick land on the outside mats, Christian holding up his older brother as both men stagger towards the ramp. Creed leans against the pipe for support, trying to hold himself up as he glares at the two men hired to take himself and Orlando out.
Douglas: Nathan fighting back here and stopping the onslaught from continuing against him at the hands of Savior and Riddick, thankfully.
Mayne: He’s only postponed the inevitable, you heard what Sallie and Krissie said, neither of these men are permitted to leave this building on their own two feet.
Riddick tries to re-enter the ring only to be held back by Christian who whispers into his brother’s ear “not now, not now.” All the while Creed glares at both men with fire in his eyes, motioning for them to come back in the ring and endure some serious punishment at his hands. Neither man takes him up on his offer.
STOCKS AND BONDS
We return from commercial with Axl Evermore and MAX, the IWC's contingent of Fully Loaded, continuing on down the hallway to some cheering from the crowd audible, Axl still jogging and air-boxing the whole way with MAX shouting Shane McMahon-style encouragements in his ear.
MAX: THAT'S RIGHT, AXL! YOU CAN DO IT!! YOU'RE VICIOUS!! YOU'VE GOT THE EYE OF THE TIGER, GALL-BLADDER OF THE BULL, APPENDIX OF STEEL!!! You're gonna make Psycho TAP! You're gonna make Calvan Greene TAP! You're gonna make 'em ALL tap, then you're gonna make Pat Evans TA...P...
Their jogging slows down to a disgusted stop when they spy (and the camera pans to) Patrick James Evans sternly leading the still-bound and leashed Aurora Rose down in their direction, conveniently enough. Her struggling, however minimal at this point, is beginning to grate on Evans's nerves.
Evans: If you don't stop your useless thrashing about, I'm going to have to...
He notices Evermore and MAX before he can finish, and he trails off, turning his attention to them as Aurora continues struggling a little.
Evans: (to Evermore) You again.
Evermore: Yes, ME. ME...ME...ME.
MAX: Me, too.
Evans raises an eyebrow towards MAX, prompting Evermore to impatiently snap his fingers in front of Evans's face.
Axl: Hey, genius, I'm over HERE. Now, you wanna explain what you're doing with this young lady in chains?
Evans: I don't need to explain myself to the likes of YOU.
MAX steps in front of Evermore and sneers at Evans.
MAX: But when it comes to chained-up women, you DO have to explain yourself to ME.
Evans: (intrigued and smirking) Oh, really? YOU. How so?
Evermore's a little concerned for the well-being of his tag partner.
Axl: You sure you want to handle this yourself?
MAX: (to Axl) You've got a match to get ready for.
Axl cautiously backs away, leaving MAX to confront Evans.
Evans: Now, you want to explain why I should answer to YOU?
MAX: (growing angrier) GLADLY. You see, I'm all for bondage and the whole leather-and-chains deal...after all, I did five movies on it. But only when it's CONSENTUAL. And I know you have this annoying but innocent punk-rocker bound and sometimes gagged completely against her will. And since you took her boy-toy Seth Owens out of action, and she's currently incapable of mounting any sort of comeback against you, SOMEONE needs to step up on her behalf. So I'm only gonna ASK you this NICELY...ONCE: are you gonna let her go? Or am I gonna have to MAKE you?
Evans gives this a moment of thought, then "graciously" steps aside and gestures for MAX to free Aurora.
Pat: By all means, Mr. Craven, go ahead and free her. But I seem to have misplaced the KEYS...
MAX looks at him for a second with suspicion, then goes to Aurora and goes about trying to break her bonds.
MAX: Let's see...if I can get this part unhinged...
As he's futzing with the chains, Pat uses the moment to try and take him down to break his ankle! ...NO!!! MAX is ready for it, as he uses Evans's momentum to send them both onto the concrete floor, rolling around and exchanging punches with each other as neither can clearly mount an offensive advantage. Finally, after a few seconds (which seem like MINUTES) a bunch of referees rush onto the scene and break them up, MAX kicking his legs towards Evans, while Evans flails his arms at MAX in a rare display of uncontrolled fury. Unfortunately for Aurora, however, her freedom does not seem to be in the cards just yet as Evans calms himself down just enough to allow the refs holding him back to lessen their grip, and storms off, fiercely and angrily grabbing Aurora's leash. MAX just seethes in his direction, then storms off in the opposite direction to find Evermore and help him warm up for his match a little bit more as we fade to black.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
For the love of God, go to good wrestling school…
ARMORED PROTECTION
A shimmering black limo is shown arriving in the backstage parking lot, enclosed in cement, passing the production trucks and some of the pimply prepubescent crew members. The onyx limo appears thicker, mightier than a normal vehicle of this shape and design, as if it were armor plated perhaps. It slowly pulls out of the sunlight into the dimness of the parking structure, completely surrounded by thick cement at this point, and two flesh and blood beings anxiously awaiting the vehicle’s arrival. Bloods come from the fans at the sight of Jackson Adams and Too Magnificent both standing in the middle of the parking lot anxiously glaring at the armor plated limo as it careens to a complete stop. They both glance towards one another and shrug their shoulders before starting towards the vehicle as quickly as their feet will carry them. Too Mag stares about his surroundings to ensure no one is watching then bends forward, tapping on the window with his fist. Jackson bends down beside Too Magnificent, both men fighting for positioning it appears so that they can see into the window which slowly begins to row down. The fans react with utter disgust at the sight of World Heavyweight Champion Hurse’s face, staring out from the window with a pear of cheap, 99 cent sunglasses on the tip of his nose and a fake mustache over his upper lip. He seems relieved to see his Alpha Generation cohorts on the outside of his tinted windows but still glares about nervously.
Hurse: Hey guys, glad you could meet me here, were you followed?
Jackson and Too Magnificent glance around before returning their sights to Hurse.
Adams: Nah, your all clear. What the hell took you so long getting here?
Hurse: Well, it took time picking out a proper disguise to keep from being caught by Chapel and all those other idiots out to get me all because of this measly little thing.
The World Championship is lifted up glistening and immediately causing both his Alpha teammates to start salivating at the mouths, desiring ownership of it themselves. Once he sees the twinkle in their eyes he pulls the World title back, hugging it tightly with both arms.
Hurse: Stop staring at it like it’s Baily Brooks’ obscenely oversized tits.
Hey!
Confusion mixed with anger immediately sets into Jackson’s face as he pushes Too Magnificent aside a bit to twist his head and stare into the limo.
Adams: Who’s in there with you!?!
The Alpha Generation member seems paranoid as he sticks his head into the limo through the open window, getting a clear view of an agitated Robin Brooks sitting as far as she can from Hurse on the other side of the armor plated vehicle.
Adams: What’s she doing in there?
Hurse: First of all.
The Champion lifts his fingers into the air and flicks Jackson right in the nostril causing him to pull his head out the window, swiping his palms across his nose in irritation.
Hurse: And secondly that’s my own damn business, not yours!
Hurse bulks up his shoulders and sticks out his chest a little, which is covered by an incredibly cheesy Hawaiian shirt while turning towards Robin, trying to look as masculine as possible for her. The Black Widow takes a deep breath and covers her face with her palm from embarrassment. While she’s not looking Hurse turns back towards Adams and Too Mag, covering his mouth with the side of his hand so Robin can’t see what he’s saying.
Hurse: Besides, I’ve always wanted to get laid in the back of a limo, but I lied and told Robin to ride with me and hang out for her own protection and such since she’s been nagging me about getting beat down every week. You’d think she had gotten use to it by now, but tonight, I’ll be the only one beating her down, heh heh heh.
The thought of any sexual escapades between them causes Jackson’s face to become puckered as if he just sucked on a bucket of sour lemons.
Adams: Well I can understand wanting to get laid in a limo, but with Robin? Can you say, yuck?
Hurse swipes his finger across his throat, insisting that Adams shut up before he’s overheard. Too Magnificent shoves Jackson aside now and bends forward so that Hurse has no choice but to stare into his paranoid, angry eyes.
Too Magnificent: That’s all well and good, but none of that is important. Did you not hear about my match tonight? Did you not hear that my job is on the line against Orlando Cruze?
With the sunglasses pulled down to the tip of his nose the look of bewilderment can be seen in the Champion’s eyes before he chuckles slightly.
Hurse: Did I hear about it? Hell, Desolation and I suggested it.
Too Magnificent does a double take, struggling to understand their motive for this as he places his fingers to the patch of flesh between his eyes rubbing at it.
Too Mag: Wait, wait, why did you suggest I compete in a contract match against Orlando Cruze?
Hurse is too busy checking out Robin on the opposite side of the limo with a slight smile on his face before Too Magnificent claps his hands loudly.
Too Magnificent: Hurse, come on, concentrate here man, this is my life we’re talking about!
With a groan Hurse turns back towards his teammate.
Hurse: What; your still here? Get off the rag already and butch up dammit. That’s why we got Sallie and Krissie to put you in this match tonight, to get you motivated, to make you realize you still had a functioning genitalia, instead of a hairy twat. And at the same time we wanted to put someone we could trust in that match to finally rid us of that constant annoyance that is Orlando Cruze. So stop belly aching and go take care of Orlando once and for all, leave Robin and I in peace.
Again Too Magnificent becomes flabbergasted, his features tensing up as his skin becomes bright red, sliding his hands into his hair.
Too Mag: Hold on, you guys aren’t even going to come to the ring with me?
Hurse: Uhhhh, duh, of course not. That’s far too dangerous. It be much safer if Robin and I just hung out in this plush, nice, armor plated limo until our matches later tonight. And by, hang out, I think you know what I mean, wink, wink.
Grinning from ear to ear as if truly proud of himself, Hurse turns towards Robin who is shooting a look of disgust in his direction, scooting a little further away from him and making sure to cover her legs with her dress.
Brooks: You know I heard you right? Your just suppose to wink your eye, not actually say it.
Hurse: Oh.
The Champion turns back towards Too Magnificent and Jackson then begins to wink his eye as obnoxiously as he possibly can. An agitated Too Magnificent stands up taking deep breaths while cupping his massive palm over his face.
Too Mag: Well I hope you guys enjoy yourselves while I’m putting my career on the line.
The big angry demented Too Magnificent turns away from the other members of the Alpha Generation, storming towards the entrance to the building.
Hurse: Have fun.
The Champion turns back towards Robin with a sneaky grin on his face.
Hurse: I know I will.
The window begins to row up before Jackson tries to stick his head into the limo once more, attempting to stop them.
Jackson: Hey wait, can I come in there with you guys, I’m bored, I got nothing else to do.
Hurse: Good God no you pervert.
The tinted window rows right up in Jackson’s face, forcing him to stare into his reflection as he groans in anger. He now begins to overlook the limo, twisting and turning his body as he tries his best to see inside but can’t get a view of what’s going on within.
PSYCHO VS. CALVAN GREENE VS. AXL EVERMORE
A fast paced single guitar solo begins playing throughout the arena right before a loud pyro explodes at the top of the ramp. The lights immediately change to a dark gold as "Heaven's creepin in" by Supernova Syndicate begins to play which immediately gets boos from the IWC crowd. After a slight pause Calvan steps out from behind the curtains. Calvan slaps his chest lightly before pointing out into the crowd and singing along with his theme song. Lightly headbanging to it he stops pointing into the crowd as they continue to boo him. Reaching the bottom of the ramp be raises both hands up to his mouth and kisses them. Then stretching them completely apart he blows as if sending the kisses into the crowd. Twirling around with both arms extended at the bottom of the ramp he turns slides into the ring. He delivers several pelvet thrusts to the mat while grinning, before finally standing back up and walking over to the other side of the ring. Balancing himself on the middle rope he raises both arms up halfway in the air, posing for the crowd one last time while brushing away bits of his coat to show off his abs before jumping down and turning back toward the center of the ring. He takes off his sun glasses and his fur coat and throws them over to the side for them to be taken away to ringside by a crew member.
Mayne: There is the definition of sex appeal, the ratings stealer, the spotlight slut, Calvan Greene.
Dan: I don’t know how flattering those nick names for Calvan were, Billy. But I guess they couldn’t be anymore unflattering than the comments that Calvan has directed at the IWC.
Billy: Well, he’s right, Calvan’s mere presence here reminds us all why IWC is inferior, with untalented has-beens with little real wrestling ability.
Dan: For the love of God, I doubt Greene even has the knowledge to properly execute a top wrist lock.
Mayne: It doesn’t matter how much you know about wrestling, what matters is how you look while doing it.
The arena lights dim, the stage slowly fills with smoke, the constant banging of the drum's echoes throughout the arena shortly followed by the guitar as the song heats up and gets faster. Blood For Blood by Machine Head finally starts to kick in as The shadow lurks in the smoke, a huge ball of 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... All the while Calvan bends forward glaring at him from across the ring, becoming positively ill at the sight of his deformed features.
Mayne: See, this is my point, Psycho’s ugly, he doesn’t have the looks of Calvan, therefore he can’t be a good wrestler.
Douglas: Are you fucking kidding me? We’ve sat here and called dozens of Psycho’s classic matches, matches we’ll never forget.
Billy: You know what else I’ll never forget, the sight of a chubby Arnold Swartzenegger in almost a thong, does that mean it was good, glorious sight, no, it doesn’t. The same basic principle applies to Psycho’s matches, there memorable because of how horrendous they are.
Dan: That is so untrue it’s not even close to being funny.
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 in place and standing in a crouch. Psycho stands up, staring scornfully at him almost while continuing to lean spine first against the corner, Calvan doesn’t know what to think as he’s already slipped through the ropes onto the apron.
Mayne: And here’s another guy who has to be untalented, just look at him, he’s all greasy looking, like he just got done swimming in Crisco.
Douglas: Would you stop basing wrestling ability on looks, this isn’t a beauty pageant, or the WWE’s logic when deciding who gets pushes.
Billy: I’ll stop doing what I’m doing, if you quit making smarky, insiderish remarks because you think it makes you sound more sophisticated. After all, nobody can be more sophisticated than the smoking Calvan Greene.
Psycho and Axl continue to glare at one another from across the ring, not even taking the time to stare at Calvan, who appears a bit upset that he’s not receiving the attention he deserves. The two men who met last week in that intense 3 way tag match stroll forward from opposite corners, Axl and Psycho coming nose to nose, breathing heavily and harshly. They look to be on the verge of a full on fight, a brawl of epic proportions when Calvan steps forward out of his corner. He sticks his hands out, sliding them between the wide sternums of both men, pushing them back away from one another. Once he’s created some space between them, both men watching on with bewildered eyes, Calvan steps in the center and motions for a camera man to jump onto the apron. He does a quick flex of his biceps, getting into an oh so seductive pose as the camera man takes a few shots of him. Calvan then waves him off.
Greene: That’s enough, you can only withstand so much Calvan at a time.
While smiling with his perfectly aligned teeth Axl and Psycho deliver knife edge chops to opposite sides of his chest. Greene squeals as he’s knocked to the canvas, sent rolling over backwards onto his palms and knees. He slides backwards holding one palm up in the direction of his opponents at a time before ending up under the ropes on the outside of the ring. His arms are crossed over his chest while he demands the time keeper hand him something, a white towel being placed in his hands. He rubs it against his sternum, trying to wipe away the filth of their touch on his perfect skin. In the ring Psycho now steps towards Axl, throwing a forearm into the side of his face before Evermore responds with a shot of his own into the skull of the former World Champion. Psycho steps to Evermore’s side, chopping him across the chest and causing the Fully Loaded member to be staggered by the strike. He comes back with a chop of his own then delivers a spinning back kick aimed at the head of his massive opponent. Psycho ducks it and switches behind his back and wrapping his arms around Evermore’s waist, dropping back into a German suplex that causes Axl to flip over, landing on his feet. The crowd is shocked by the aerial acrobatics of Evermore who charges forward at Psycho who turns to face him, getting to his feet and catching Axl with a tilt a whirl. However, Evermore counters out of it and takes hold of Psycho’s arm, dragging him over forward with an arm drag that causes Psycho to drop down into a forward roll across the canvas. He gets to his feet then spins to face Evermore, who has risen to a standing base and is charging in quickly only to be caught with a hip toss.
Psycho’s strength allows him to lift Evermore high into the air before slinging him down spine first into the canvas. Now that his opponent is down Psycho steps forward only for Axl to get to his knees and reach out, swiping his large opponent’s legs out from beneath him. He falls down on top of Psycho, going for the pinfall.
1
Psycho kicks out and rolls to his knees while Evermore gets up in front of him only to have his legs swept out from under him by the massive arm of the multi-timed Livewire Champion. Psycho falls into the cover on him now.
1
Evermore actually bridges his way up and out from under Psycho, turning to face him while he’s still on all fours then jumping over him. He catches him around the shoulder and thigh while flipping over him and landing on his back, he pulls Psycho over onto his shoulders with an Oklahoma roll.
1
2
Psycho kicks out, dropping over onto his knees while Axl gets up in front of him, delivering a chop aimed at the top of his opponent’s head. One half of the team who have the top seat in the tag tournament, drops into a forward roll, avoiding the chop and getting to his feet. He rushes up behind Axl who turns to spot him with enough time to duck an attempted lariat. Evermore steps behind Psycho’s back who spins to face him only to receive a right to the face. Psycho is staggered by the shot as Axl hits him again with a right hand, doing a bit of a juke and jiving motion with his hips before going for the knock out shock. Psycho ducks it though and hooks Axl’s arm in the process, stepping around behind him and then dragging on his bicep, causing Evermore to spin with the side of his head hitting his opponent’s armpit. Psycho quickly clamps on a side headlock as a result before Evermore throws a forearm into his ribs, followed by another to the small of his back. After struggling for several momtns Evermore pushes Psycho off the side headlock, sending him charging forward into the cables only for Calvan to grab the top one, pulling down on it. This causes Psycho to spill over the cables and be sent crashing with a hard thud on the outside mats.
Mayne: What brilliant timing from Calvan. Is there nothing that this man can’t do? He’s smart, he’s attractive, he’s got nice teeth, and he can wrestle, he’s the total package.
Douglas: Why don’t you just marry the man already if your going to keep gushing about his abilities.
Billy: I might have if I weren’t cursed with this damn penis.
Dan: If it’s any consolation to you, it’s almost too small to actually be considered one.
The fans are reacting with disgust while Greene drops to the outside mats, extending his arms out to his sides with a forced smile on his face. He seems to be truly proud of himself for pulling down the rope and causing Psycho to hurt himself. Therefore, he moseys on forward and points out to the crowd then motions to himself with his thumbs.
Calvan: And that’s why you should vote for me to become your president. I won’t hesitate to punish the lower class, to mistreat the retarded for being different. Wait, are those bad things? If they are, just pretend I said the opposite of everything I just said.
More boos come from the crowd as this is obviously not the platform for a presidency speech. Much to their satisfaction though, his speech is short lived by a well timed baseball dropkick directly to the upper back from Axl Evermore. The collision sends him spiraling forward, turning and crashing hard spine first against the barricade. Evermore starts to stand up in the ring and grab the top rope while staring at Calvan, who is staggering back towards the squared circle. With quickness and great agility, Evermore pulls himself over the ropes for a crossbody only to have Calvan roll into the ring under the cables, avoiding him in the nick of time. Once Axl realizes Calvan has successfully avoided him he sticks out his legs, landing on his feet on the outside mats then turning back towards the ring where Greene is holding onto the top rope.
Greene: Time for some real aerial grace!
Showing his agility, Calvan pulls him over the cables into a twisting crossbody only for Axl to be shoved out of the way by Psycho at the last second, causing Evermore to run face first into the exposed steel turnbuckle post. Calvan’s eyes open widely as he is caught right across Psycho’s chest who then throws Greene up into the air, allowing him to land in a seated position on his shoulders. Calvan swings his arms, trying to find someway out of this position but can’t as Psycho turns and charges across the mats with his opponent in a powerbomb position, rushing him spine first into the exposed steel turnbuckle post that Axl just crashed into. The fans react with shock as Calvan bounces off the steel and turns, crashing to the mats on his chest and stomach. He reaches for his spine in tremendous pain while Evermore utilizes the barricade to force himself up to his feet, still holding his forehead. He turns and rushes right at Psycho who catches him now, scooping him up and then delivering a scoop slam that drives him spine first into the back of a crawling Calvan. The fans react with an even louder ovation at the sight of these moves from a very centered, focused Psycho, appearing to be under control for the time being unlike in week’s prior, which just makes him all the more dangerous.
He reaches down now and takes hold of Calvan’s hair, forcing him up to his feet and then dragging him towards the ring. He rolls Calvan in under the cables as Greene gets to his elbows and knees, trying to force himself up to his feet yet reaching for his back in the process. Psycho starts to slide into the ring himself, getting half his upper body in when Calvan does a head stand, swinging around into a break dancing leg drop right across the back of his opponent’s head. The collision causes Psycho to roll onto his back, kicking his legs and gripping at his neck while Calvan sits there on the ring, yawning while patting his mouth with his palm. He then turns, doing a brief dry humping of the canvas before slithering forward into the cover, hooking Psycho’s legs.
1
2
The ever intense Psycho kicks out emphatically, Calvan turning onto his seat with brief confusion.
Calvan: I let him do that.
As soon as he says this he turns to spot Axl entering the ring in front of him, delivering a blistering buzzsaw kick directly to his face. Greene falls onto his back, flopping around and rolling across the canvas.
Mayne: No, Calvan receiving a kick right to his surely surgically perfected face.
Douglas: The more his good looks are lessened the better his personality should become.
Calvan is still holding his face in tremendous pain while Evermore steps towards Psycho, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him over onto his knees. He quickly places him in a neck cravat submission hold, trying to twist Psycho’s head off of his shoulder. The monstrous Psycho tries to force himself up to his feet only for Evermore to keep twisting violently at his head with every bit of his upper body strength. Finally when Psycho gets up to his feet with Axl twisting at his neck, Calvan comes charging in at them. He looks to be going for something spectacular in order to break up this submission but trips on one of his untied shoe strings, staggering forward as he almost looses his footing. He balances himself enough to go for a step up enzugari to the back of Evermore’s head only for to slip off and land on the canvas face first. He then goes rolling across the canvas with his hands over his face while Axl watches him with disbelief in his eyes, not quite sure what to make of him whatsoever.
Therefore Axl let’s Psycho go and steps towards Calvan, thinking he may get a quick submission as he lifts Greene’s legs into the air, wrapping them around his own. He sits down in order to lock in the sharpshooter on his opponent, Calvan pushing himself up onto his elbows, yelling in pain, looking prepared to tap out almost immediately. The referee drops down, checking on Calvan’s condition while he reaches up, grasping hold of his shirt, pulling down on it and sinking his teeth into the fabric. He tries to drag himself up the referee before Psycho charges right at Evermore with an extension of his boot. Axl ducks it and breaks the sharpshooter and turning his back to Psycho, hooking both of his arms. He pulls him down into a backslide pin only to allow the sadistic savage to roll over onto his knees, standing up quickly. Before he could get all the way up Axl slaps on the neck cravat once more to some clapping from the crowd.
Pain shoots through the twisted neck of Psycho as he forces himself up to his feet, Evermore still clamping hold of the neck cravat. That’s when Psycho turns his body to bury his shoulder to Evemore’s spine, then using his palms to push his budding rival forward right into Calvan standing up in front of the cables. Greene reaches down to lace his boot when Axl runs into his shoulders, Calvan standing up in confusion and unintentionally back dropping Axl over the ropes. Much like many of the IWC talents, Axl has the gumption and agility to grab the top rope, floating over feet first onto the apron. A still baffled Greene turns towards Axl then lunges at him only for Calvan to drop to his seat and slide under the ropes and through his opponent’s legs. Evermore stands up and turns towards Calvan, wrapping his arms around his waist for what looks to be a German suplex only for Greene to desperately wrap his arms around the ropes. Axl is still trying to German suplex him though, Greene wrapping his legs around the ropes now as well to prevent having his perfect physique ruined at the hands of a Fully Loaded member. That’s when Psycho charges up behind Axl, reaching out and wrapping his arms around his waist, dropping back and thus rolling him over. Psycho ends up seated on the back of Evermore’s thighs, thus forcing his shoulders to the canvas as he goes for the pinfall.
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2
Greene steps away from the ropes and delivers a straight, if not somewhat sloppy superkick directly to Psycho’s jaw. The fans react with shock as he falls over backwards slowly, right on top of Evermore. As he lies on him, Evermore wraps his arms around Psycho’s waist and bridges his lower body off the canvas, his legs holding him up as he holds his opponent in a bridging pin.
1
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Calvan steps in and kicks the back of Axl’s knee, kicking his legs out from under him and causing him to land on his back with Psycho’s wide, unconscious body on top of him. That’s when Calvan turns towards the ropes, jumping onto the middle one and springing off backwards into a moonsault on top of Psycho who is piled on Evermore. The crowd is shocked by the high risk move being used by Greene, but also by the fact that he did it without botching for once.
Douglas: What an insane high flying move from Calvan Greene, thankfully there wasn’t a mirror around to distract him and cost him to botch yet another move.
Mayne: He’s not botched anything in this match, I have no idea what your referring to. What you see from Calvan is flawless execution, its not his fault that there are wet places and oil spills all over that messy ring. The referee doesn’t do a good enough job of cleaning it between matches, its disgraceful.
All three men are obviously in pain after that last move while Evermore rolls to his elbows and knees, trying to force himself up to his feet. Just as he starts to get up, Calvan steps towards staggering around in the process then placing his arm around his neck. He seems amazed by his use of the front headlock for only a moment before one of his feet, kick the other one out from under him, tripping himself backwards and as a result giving Evermore a DDT. Calvan turns to his knees, glaring at Evermore in shock and then scratching the back of his head, as if making a mental note of how to execute that move. Before he has proper time to celebrate he looks up right into Psycho’s knee as it connects with his face, the sadistic bastard falling forward into the cables for support after hitting the move. The move seems to have laid Greene out completely as it was incredibly stiff while Psycho turns towards Evermore, who is forcing himself up to his feet. As soon as Psycho steps in though, Evermore reaches out, catching him by the back of the legs and lifting up on them. He dives forward, dropping back first onto Psycho’s chest and holding the back of his knees up in the air, going for a quick pin.
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Psycho wraps his arms around Evermore’s waist, bridging himself up and off the canvas while supporting Axl’s waist as well. Both men get to their feet while Psycho spins Axl around so that he’s now in a piledriver position. He is about to lift him but Axl takes hold of the arm around his waist, gripping at the wrist then swinging out from his massive opponent. He spins around to face Psycho while still holding onto his grip, then pulling him forward into a spinning back kick right to the ribs. Psycho is bent forward from the strike as Evermore then delivers another hard kick directly to the sadistic one’s chest. The stiff shots echo throughout the arena and cause Psycho to stand up in a very dazed state. Evermore backs up in front of him and rushes in with another kick aimed right at his face only for him to duck down and catch his opposition’s leg over his shoulder. He immediately drops back into a huge t-bone suplex. Axl crashes violently into the canvas then bridges his back from the ring, shouting in pain while Psycho forces himself to his feet, staggering around a bit in the process, finally overcoming his daze from that superkick.
Dan: A series of stiff blows to Psycho’s body but out of nowhere he hits a capture suplex on Evermore that may have broken his body.
Billy: Well, I have a reason to be slightly thankful for Psycho being in this match, at least he’s dishing out some pain on Evermore for being a big piece of human trash. And I’m not talking the pretty trash with old discarded air fresheners and Home and Garden magazines, no, no, I’m talking the baby diaper filled with chili kind of trash.
Dan: You go through a lot of people’s trash don’t you?
Sallie watches on, slapping the apron with her palms to encourage her man. Evermore is still holding his spine while he forces himself to his feet slowly, refusing to stay down. That’s before he’s struck over the back with a clubbing blow that sends Axl down to his elbows and knees. This allows Psycho to back up then charge forward with a boot aimed right at Evermore’s face. Axl stands up right in time to avoid it before stepping behind Psycho and grabbing him by both arms. He seems to have him hooked for the dragon suplex but Psycho slips free, landing on his spine and lifting his legs into the air, trying to wrap them around Evermore’s waist. Axl instead dives forward and tucks into a roll across the canvas right onto his feet while Psycho rolls backwards. He comes charging in now when Axl side steps him and instead connects with a devastating kick directly to Psycho’s but, doubling him over. Evermore now steps to his side and begins to hook both his opponent’s arms, setting up for the Flip Side. He suddenly has to change things up into a front chancery though, as Calvan comes with a primal scream only for Evermore to catch him around the neck with his free arm. Evermore drops back into a DDT, downward spiral combination that has the fans jumping out of their seats.
Calvan bounces hard face first into the ring and rolls onto his back while Psycho strikes the canvas with force as well, dropping onto his spine on the opposite side of Axl who is now sitting on the canvas with a slight grin. Its almost as if he’s enjoying himself as he rises to his feet and approaches Calvan, blasting him over the back with a forearm strike then delivering a straight upward kick to his sternum. Greene stands up straight and covers his chest with both arms while staggering towards the ropes. Evermore doesn’t give him time to heel as he places Calvan back first against the cables, shoving Calvan’s arms out of the way then chopping him hard to the chest.
Calvan flies backwards against the cables, almost flying over them while Evermore drags him back down to his feet and takes him by the wrist. Calvan is shaking his head, repeating “no, no, no,” before he’s whipped across the ring. His momentum carries him into the other ropes, causing him to bounce off and stagger forward into a bent forward Evermore. He kicks him right to the chest though, making him stand up straight but with furious, fiery eyes, immediately making Greene regret his decision. Axl charges forward right at him but is caught across the chest in a rock bottom position, then Calvan does a complete 360 degree turn, delivering a vicious heel kick right to the back of Evermore’s head. The strike causes Axl to flip over forward, crashing to his spine across the canvas as Calvan backs away from him, amused that he caught his opponent with such a hard kick.
Mayne: There is nothing Calvan isn’t capable of in that ring, besides turning water into wine, or some other intoxicatingly refreshing beverage.
Douglas: Get drunk on your own time Billy, we don’t have time for you to star crying into your beers right now, there is a very acrobatic triple threat match going on right now in the center of that ring.
Greene gets to his feet and steps towards the almost out cold Evermore, hopping into the air a bit then driving his boot into his chest. Even delivering the stomp seems troublesome as Calvan almost loses his balance, trying to catch himself before he falls over. He swings his arms out to his sides to keep himself up and once he’s balanced himself he decides to play it off by posing with a flex of one of his biceps. It’s not enough to draw the crowd’s attention away from his blunder but Calvan obviously thinks it did the job as he strolls confidently towards the corner, slipping through the ropes onto the apron. He begins to climb the turnbuckle, getting to the top rope and again trying to balance himself, glaring down at Evermore who is almost motionless after that stiff kick to the gut. Calvan gyrates to give the fans something to live for then dives off the corner, flipping through the air with a shooting star press, but completely misses his target. Axl rolled out of the way in the nick of time to cause Greene to crash face first into the ring, bouncing up onto his elbows and unable to even interpret the pain coursing through his body. Psycho pulls himself up backwards against a turnbuckle watching on as Axl crawls right towards Calvan, grabbing his arms in a double chickenwing then flipping forward into a bridging Cattle Mutilation, the fans reacting with a great chorus of cheers. Greene is yelling at the top of his lungs and is unable to reach the referee this time while both of his arms continue to be stretched and ripped by the technically sound Evermore.
Douglas: Calvan looks to be on the verge of submission, Billy.
Mayne: We’re talking about Calvan Greene here, this man doesn’t tap out. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t even know what the word submission means.
Dan: His lack of knowledge wouldn’t actually be that surprising.
Calvan is still yelling in agony as Axl twists at his arms, neither man seeing Psycho climbing backwards to the second rope from the corner of their eyes. He quickly launches himself off into a back first senton splash right to the bridging mid-section of Evermore, all his weights coming down into his opponent’s ribs. Axl is forced to break the Cattle Mutilation as he crashes onto his back, Psycho coming down on top of him.
Douglas: OHHH, what a way to break up a submission hold.
Mayne: Well, you know what they always say, breaking up is hard to do. I’ll never forget being forced to break up with my last true love, until that skank bitch turned on me and kicked me out. I’ve never forgiven my mother for that.
Dan: Please allow your past to stay a part of history, I don’t think I can take anymore trips down memory lane.
Grinding his teeth from the pain, Axl rolls away from Psycho, Calvan trying to force himself up to his feet as well. Psycho steps towards him and grabs hold of his hair, forcing him up to his feet before Greene throws a knee upward into his gut. The shot bends Psycho forward before Calvan spins in a circle with one leg in the air, trying to make a simple punch to the face appear fancy as it connects to the side of his opponent’s head. Psycho is staggered by the shot while Evermore forces himself up to his feet behind him while grasping his ribs with both hands. That’s when Calvan spins around for another flashy punch that adds nothing to the impact but sets him up for a kick to the gut, which is exactly what he gets from a waiting Psycho. The former Champion slaps on a front chancery and lifts Greene into the air for a vertical suplex only for him to flip over Psycho’s shoulder. He lands on his feet behind Psycho and wraps his arm around his neck, setting up for a reverse neckbreaker counter. That’s when Psycho spins around to face Calvan’s spine, pushing him forward, countering his counter and sending him charging right into the waiting shoulders of Evermore. Axl lifts him on his shoulders and turns, looking for his version of the F5, even as Calvan kicks and swings his arms to get free. Evermore turns to face Psycho who has bounced off the ropes and charges forward into a running, vicious big boot right to Axl’s face. Sallie covers her eyes with her palms as the collision knocks him to the canvas with Calvan coming down on top of him and Psycho rolling away in anger. The crowd is screaming over the stiffness of the big boot which almost broke Axl’s jaw.
Douglas: What a tremendously stiff strike delivered by Psycho to Axl Evermore, these guys are just tearing one another apart in this triple threat match.
Mayne: It’s been an out of control bout thus far, the only thing that would make it better is if it actually ended, and with Calvan winning of course.
The fans are on their feet after that series of brutal strikes and moves while Calvan rolls under the ropes to the outside of the ring after dropping off his opponent’s shoulders. He spills under the ropes, landing on his knees across the mats then crawling away from the ring with a very confused expression on his face. For some reason he seems to be gravitating much of his attention towards his eye while he forces himself to his feet, motioning towards it with both fingers. The time keeper approaches him and begins to check on his condition with Calvan pushes his hands away.
Calvan: I’ve so totally blew out an orbit or whatever those things are in my eye, I blinked it too hard. Call an ambulance now. NOW!
The time keeper motions for medical assistance while Calvan seems to pretend going into convulsions on the mats, over a simply awkward blinking of his eye. Medical staff proceeds from the back while the action continues in the ring, Psycho crawling into the cover on Evermore, hooking his leg.
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Sallie Roma screams from the outside of the ring until Axl shoots his shoulder from the canvas at the last possible second though, causing the fans to react with a loud chorus of cheers. Psycho gets to his knees, his eyes bulging from their sockets as he seethes in outrage, unable to believe Evermore got his shoulder up just now. Taking several deep breaths he forces himself to his feet, Evermore turning to his elbows and knees, trying to force himself to his feet. EMTs have surrounded Calvan, assisting him to his feet and leading him towards the back as he leans on their shoulders for support, as if he’s completely unable to use his legs. Psycho rises to his feet and spots Calvan being dragged away by EMTs before he sighs and strolls towards the turnbuckle. He scales the corner with cat like quickness, which is odd seeing as he weighs the same as some large jungle lions. As he reaches the top rope with his back turned towards the down Axl he steadies himself, trying to make sure his legs are properly beneath him. That’s when Evermore seems to snap out of it, rising to his feet then charging at the turnbuckle before Psycho could take flight with his massive moonsault. Axl reaches the top rope and wraps his arms around Psycho’s waist, dropping back and German suplexing him from the top rope. Psycho’s rotund frame flips through the air and now comes crashing down to the canvas chest and face first. After bouncing from the ring he rolls onto his back, Axl also sprawled across his spine, taking several deep breaths. After fighting to keep his head straight and his mind on his task he forces himself to his feet, staggering around then approaching Psycho who is trying to fight his way to his feet.
Just as the sadistic one gets a leg beneath him, Axl steps to his side and delivers a swift buzzsaw lick kick right to his face. The impact knocks him on his back and then sends him into a sideways roll towards the cables. He hits them with his ribs and begins to use them to stand up, getting to his feet while bent forward until Axl grabs him by the shoulder and spins him around. He takes him around the neck and charges him away from the cables as if he’s setting up for a bulldog but then jumps into the air, lifting his knee and dragging Psycho down face first into it. Psycho stands up straight after the impact while Axl rushes into the ropes in front of him, bouncing off them coming back in with a running STO right into a back breaker across his knee. The crowd groans as Psycho is stretched out spine first across Axl’s knee. Evermore keeps his arm draped across Psycho’s chest and uses it to stand his plus sized opponent up slightly, only enough so that Axl can switch around behind him, wrapping his arm around his neck in a reverse DDT position. However, Evermore turns into a spinning DDT, swinging sideways to the canvas and pulling Psycho down and over into his shoulder as well as the canvas. Psycho bounces off the canvas with a hard thud then rolls onto his back, looking completely taken out as Axl crawls quickly into the cover, hooking his leg, realizing he most definitely has the win here.
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No! Psycho somehow launched his shoulder from the canvas at the last second, Evermore now the one getting to his knees, appearing highly flabbergasted at this point with his opponent’s persistence.
Douglas: Axl Evermore with a series of hard hitting moves there all one after the other and it still was not enough to put away Psycho. This match has come down to what it was suppose to originally be, one on one between two hard hitting, well versed opponents.
Mayne: I hope Calvan is okay, he might have pulled a muscle in his eyelid.
Dan: Is such a thing even possible?
The crowd is still going nuts over the fact that Psycho got his shoulder off the canvas while Evermore rises to his feet very slowly. He steps towards Psycho and grabs him by the locks of his long hair, rolling him to his knees then taking him by the arms, trying to force him to his feet to go for that same high impact double underhook piledriver like earlier. He forces him up to his feet finally and seems ready to deliver the move before his eyes find their way right to the ringside area. His head tilts while examining a figure standing amongst the sea of humanity. Just like last week when he was planted in the crowd, observing the action, Pat Evans now stands there, watching on with crossed arms. The chain is still over his shoulder and connected to Aurora’s throat, forcing her to watch on as well. Pat has a very distempered, menacing expression as he watches Axl very closely with his narrowed eyes. Aurora is looking around at the fans with duct tape over her mouth, making it incapable for her to beg for assistance.
Douglas: What’s this? Just like last week when Axl Evermore was watching Pat’s match with the Champion, Evans is now here observing the action between Axl and Psycho.
Mayne: What’s wrong with that? Although I doubt he’s entertained by anything in that ring right now, I’m sure he enjoys watching potential rivals make a full of themselves.
Dan: Axl certainly isn’t making a fool of himself, he’s almost won this match several times thus far, almost defeating a former World Heavyweight Champion.
Axl can’t remove his eyes from Pat, who is staring at him just the same. Sallie Roma makes her way towards the barricade, shouting at Pat to get out of here while Evans just smirks slightly in her direction. He lifts his middle finger right up into her face, causing boos to register from the crowd. Axl drops his guard at the sight of this obscene hand gesture, lowering Psycho just enough for him to pull Evermore down into a quick, surprise small package.
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3!
The fans react with utter shock as Psycho has just snuck his way to a victory yet again over Axl Evermore. Axl kicks out a second too late as he sits up on the canvas, his eyes widened and filled with fury. Psycho has rolled away from him and gotten to his knees before falling on his seat, leaning against the cables for support. The fans are voicing a very mixed ovation while Evermore continues to sit on the canvas, fuming over what just happened. His eyes find their way towards Pat lurking amongst the crowd, shaking his head now in disgust. Roma is demanding he leave while he slowly saunters away, tugging on the chain and pulling the gagged Aurora behind him to everyone’s disgust.
Mayne: Psycho with the victory thanks to an assist by Pat Evans. Is there a such thing as a clean finish in the IWC?
Douglas: I’m beginning to wonder about that myself, but the point is, Psycho just got the victory, and it was all because Pat was making disgusting gestures towards Sallie.
Billy: I do believe there’s a bit of an issue beginning to develop between these two guys, especially if you take into account what happened in the back between Pat and Axl’s tag team partner, MAX.
Axl rolls out of the ring and steps towards Sallie, who is flabbergasted by what just happened, Evermore trying to calm her down as he fumes with anger. Inside of the ring Psycho has gotten to his feet, staggering around and motioning for something from the ring announcer. Kaily approaches the sadistic monster and hands a mic through the cables, placing it in the palm of his hand, a still obviously outraged Axl watching on from the outside of the ring.
Billy: Why is everyone requesting the use of microphones tonight. It seems like everybody has got something on their minds this evening. Unlike me, I don’t think about anything, except rather it’s wrong to fantasize about the teenage girls on the Disney Channel.
Douglas: And you wonder why they don’t allow you around playgrounds.
Roma finally convinces Axl to go with her, to not stay and fight on this occasion. He swallows his pride and makes his way towards the back while in the ring Psycho is turning in circles, staring out over the crowd with wide, disturbing eyes. The microphone shakes in his quivering hand as he grips it in front of his trembling lips.
Psycho: Hahahaha, Roooooobbbiiiinnn, Rrrrrrroooobbbin, did you see that? Did you see me win yet again? I hope you’ve watched my performances over the past couple of weeks, and seen me win match after match. The reason I hope you’ve been watching, is because I have you to thank for all my wins lately. That’s right, I’m thanking you Robin, for motivating me to be more vicious, more cunning, more sadistic than I’ve ever been. All my victories, are thanks to you. I see your face on my opponents, but at Breathless, I won’t have to fantasize about you any longer. No, no, I’ll have you in the center of that ring, and then you’ll see just how much you’ve truly motivated me. Hahahaha, you’ll see what kind of Psycho you’ve created as your blood oozes out from your cracked skull and your brain tissue spills oh so erotically through my fingers. It will be beautiful, oh so very beautiful, unlike your looks after I get through with you. Prepare for my wrath Robin, prepare, hahahaha.
The sweating, heavy breathing Psycho throws down the microphone and slips through the ropes, standing on the apron for a moment as he takes one last look at the screaming fans. His gaze chills them to the bone.
Douglas: An ominous warning from Psycho directed at Robin Brooks. I feely sympathy for that young woman, being put through the ringer against all these psychopaths over the past month, all building to a heading when she’s forced to clash with this deranged beast in the ring at Breathless.
Mayne: She’s going to be in for violence unlike anything she’s ever experienced, and I love it.
UNBALANCED HORMONES
World Champion Hurse is in the backseat of the limo eating an apple with great pleasure, little pieces of it stuck in his fake mustache and spilling onto his yellow Hawaiian shirt. The camera pans out slowly to reveal the ghost white face of Robin Brooks, her jaw hanging open as she stares into the small television in the back of the limo. The miniature monitor provides a feed of the speech in the ring by Psycho, the description of the gruesome things in which he intends to do to her. The X-Class Champion has a cold sweat rolling down her face as she breaths heavily, trying to calm herself down. She slowly turns towards Hurse who is still eating the apple.
Hurse: Mmmm, this is a good apple. I think it’s a granny smith apple. Is there really an old white haired lady with a big ass growing apples out there somewhere?
The Champion continues to observe the fruit until he slowly turns his eyes towards a shocked, incredibly worried Brooks.
Hurse: Want a bite?
The half eaten apple is stuck out right in front of Robin’s mouth before she becomes disgusted and slaps it out of his hand.
Robin: No I don’t want a bite of your damn apple!
Hurse watches the apple fall to the floor in a saddened state while Robin glares at him in anger, then points at the television.
Brooks: Did you see that? Did you? That’s all your fault, that’s all your fault! I’m booked against that sadist Psycho at Breathless, and Chapel tonight, all because of you. Do you have any idea what they’re going to do to me?
A chuckle comes from the Champion as he waves Robin off and shakes his head.
Hurse: There you go again, letting your fallopian tubes do your talking for you. Would you just calm down and relax? It’s not like I’m going to let anything happen to you.
Brooks: How am I suppose to relax when I got someone wanting to taste my damn brain like a monster from a George Romero movie?
The question seems to be to Hurse’s liking, as if he planned on her responding in that way. He scoots a little closer to Brooks, which makes her appear a bit concerned and disgusted.
Brooks: What the hell are you doing?
Hurse: I can think of one way to get your mind off of Psycho.
Robin: Oh really?
The Champion scoots in closer as Brooks’ for a moment forgets why she was so terrified. Her fears vanish for a moment as Hurse’s lips touch her neck, making out with it passionately and causing Robin to smirk slightly as she brushes her hair out of his way. The Champion lifts his head in order to speak into Robin’s ear, trying to whisper.
Hurse: I got a confession to make Robin, I’m not wearing any underwear.
Hurse reaches down slyly and begins to unzip his pants before Robin’s eyebrow raises, looking down and noticing him fidgeting with his pants.
Robin: What are you doing?
Hurse: Just bringing out my little friend to say hello.
Brooks pulls away from Hurse and begins to shake her head immediately, sticking out her palms to cover his genitalia that he still fights to expose.
Brooks: You know I don’t even like to look at that thing, let alone touch it. It looks like a shaved gerbil.
Immediately the Champion stares through his zipper subconsciously. With a groan he zips up his pants and slides towards Brooks, undeterred, his nose brushing against her hair. Brooks rolls her eyes and looks at her watch, everyone owns a watch, stop asking questions.
Brooks: You know my match is coming up here in a few minutes right? I don’t have time to shatter your ego.
Brooks looks Hurse up and down with a bit of anger and disdain while the Champion just chuckles and readjusts the title, trying to make sure the camera has a better view of it over his shoulder.
Hurse: Well I see what you mean, nothing we can do can be accomplished in 15 minutes.
Robin: Actually, you’d probably only need about four of those 15 minutes.
That last comment was not very cool in Hurse’s eyes at all, which stare through his cheap sunglasses at Brooks. Having purchased those glasses to appear more like a common everyday citizen, inexplicably carrying around the IWC World Heavyweight title.
Hurse: You know damn straight that’s pushing it, wait, that didn’t come out right. I mean, that my libido is about as masculine as a Greek God or… man that just sounded so horribly gay.
Brooks: Some times I do wonder about you.
Hurse: The point is we’ve got a limo, let’s make use of it for crying out loud! I didn’t rent this thing just to protect me…I meant us. I mostly got it so we can repopulate the earth with little Steven, Robin hybrids in peace. If that doesn’t sound sexually appealing, I don’t know what does.
Brooks lets out another groan as Hurse climbs all fours onto the seat, beginning to crawl towards it and again burying his face into her neck. However Robin just sits there for several seconds, trying not to act as if she’s slightly turned on. Finally Hurse’s lips find her ways to Robin’s and his rear end wags like a tail. Right as everything seems to be cemented and an abrupt commercial break is required a knock comes at the window. Hurse unleashes almost a viper like hiss, becoming agitated by this interruption, already proceeding to mount Brooks who is lying on her back on the limo seat. Quickly he gets out of his sexual position and sits down normally, fixing his shirt and placing the glasses back over his eyes, trying to disguise himself. He smoothes out his mustache to seem more like a random tourist and fixes the World title over his shoulder.
Hurse: Remember Robin, stay in character, you’re a break dancer who random teaches deprived children to connect with their inner most feelings, and I’m the random stranger, but there’s a twist, I think I might be an alien. Just play the parts and everything should be fine.
The Champion turns towards the window and begins to row it down after getting himself in character, Robin just leaning against her door, frustrated with Hurse in general and continuing to check the time. As the window rows down Hurse puts on a quivering smile, fearful of whoever may be outside his armor plated limo, secretly clutching a bat that was placed under his seat. Finally the window rows down to reveal the culprit as none other than Beer-Man. The superhero has truly arrived in the IWC as he stares around the inside of the limo, Bitchcakes’ savior, the man here to find his beer, and surprisingly looking just like McPhee under his cheap costume. Hurse looks appalled at the sight of the superhero who sticks his head inside the limo now to get a better view.
Hurse: Um, excuse me, but who in the hell are you and why are you dressed like Tito Jackson?
Beer-Man shoots Hurse a scowl before retracting his head a bit.
Beer-Man: Hello puny, sickly, pale, and feminine mortal, it is I Beer-Man, come to talk all high and mighty since I’m sure to be stereotyped on this show and have to do that. I’ve come in to take over a very botched investigation, and find out what’s happened to my good friends stolen alcohol, come to get all those answer thingies. I’ll do this by using my heightened interrogation techniques, and superhuman capabilities. So let’s begin suspect number 87.
Hurse motions questioningly towards himself while glaring at Beer-Man.
Hurse: Do you even know who I am?
A confused Beer-Man simply shrugs his shoulders.
Beer-Man: The corpse of Sonny Bono?
Hurse: No, I’m the World Cha….
Hurse releases he was about to give away his identity, shooting his eyes towards Robin as if somehow blaming her for that.
Hurse: I’m John Everydaymanhasm…
He cringes as the last name comes out, but Beer-Man doesn’t appear bothered by it at all. The man with a striking resemblance to Bitchcakes McPhee continues to shoot a stoic glare at the Champion.
Beer-Man: Well Mr. Mannyham, I’m sure I’m intimidating, and my menacing, yet good looking appearance is off putting to some, which is why I’m so good at interrogation. Now, give me Bitchcakes’ beer!
With no evidence tying Hurse or Robin to the theft of the alcohol, Beer-Man reaches into the car, feeling around, trying to find the beer that is suppose to magically appear. Hurse slaps at Beer-Man’s arm repeatedly and starts to row up his window, the superhero’s arm getting caught as a result.
Beer-Man: Your hurting Beer-Man, stop that before I break this tiny armored car in half and shit in its remains.
The Champion lifts his leg into the air and places it to the forearm of Beer-Man, shoving it through the crack in the limo window. After the tinted glass rows all the way up Hurse holds onto the door handle to make sure Beer-Man can’t open it, panicking and breathing heavily. He turns towards Robin who is shaking her head and continuing to glance at her watch.
Robin: You know what, I have a match to get ready for. A match where something very gruesome will probably happen to me, so thanks again for getting me in the middle of all this. Thanks again for putting me in a situation where I’ll probably be bloodied and assaulted.
Hurse: But that happens to you once a month doesn’t it?
Robin does a double take with a shaking of her head then beginning to open her door while holding her palm out in the Champion’s direction.
Robin: We’re not talking about my period, Steven, we’re talking about me entering the ring with a ferocious, violent, evil man who has really hurt me in the past. And it’s all thanks to you, so see you later, hopefully.
The rightful X-Class Champion opens her car-door before stepping out, leaving a troubled Hurse all alone. As the door slams behind Robin he finally realizes that he’s all alone, gazing about his surroundings as he starts to curl into a ball. It seems that the walls are closing in on him as he tightly grips his World Championship belt and the baseball bat that was under his seat.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
COMING SOON, TO DVD
BITCHCAKES MCPHEE VS. ICARUS STRANGE
The show comes back to the ringside area with the Beer Song playing in the background, and Bitchcakes McPhee already at ringside. He is pointing frantically towards a hand drawn picture of a case of beer. The beer that was stolen from him, several bottles with smiley faces sketched across the thin sheet of paper, as well as a stick figure portrait of a happy McPhee. The stink lines are a clear cut identifier for who the picture is of. Very distraught and covering his face with his palms he makes his way back to the ring.
Douglas: Welcome back to the ring ladies and gentlemen, and after so much lunacy in the back, we have even more at ringside. Bitchcakes McPhee continuing this search for his stolen beer, and yet coming up with nothing after all these months. He just looks to be more depressed than anything.
Mayne: I think when he lost faith in Max Power, and even Beer-Man, who also couldn’t find his beer tonight, he’s lost faith in himself as well. He just seems crushed at the thought of someone out there being so evil they could take a man’s beer.
Bitchcakes stands up in the ring with his back pressed to the turnbuckle, leaning on it for support as he shakes his drunken head back and forth. He seems lost and dreary, all his hope in humanity being crushed by the fact that none of his heroes have been able to help him and his beer continues to be held in the clutches of some evil shrew. 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. Right as the sparkles cease, Bitchcakes charges forward with an angry lariat directed right at his throat. It connects and takes Icarus down to the canvas across his back.
Douglas: Bitchcakes actually looks a lot more aggressive, jumping Icarus before his entrance could even end.
Mayne: There was enough celebration to begin with, he didn’t need those last three seconds of air time. It could be better used to look for McPhee’s stolen alcohol.
Bitchcakes drags Icarus up to his feet and bends forward, burying his shoulder to his slightly lighter opponent, hoisting him into the air. He roars as he charges him across the ring and drives him spine first right into the turnbuckle, causing Strange to yell out in pain while his arms fall over the cables. A very upset McPhee stands up and delivers a right to Icarus’ jaw, then another, then another. Finally he steps in and open hand chops Strange to the chest, Icarus yelling out in pain as he almost falls out of the corner. Bitchcakes bends forward and buries his shoulder to Icarus’ gut, lifting him up and sitting him on the top rope. He takes him by the hair and delivers headbunt to his skull, almost knocking Strange down out of the corner. Somehow he balances himself as Bitchcakes already starts to climb up the turnbuckle in front of him. He seems to be setting up for a vertical suplex already, being incredibly aggressive right now before Strange comes to life, reaching out and sinking his teeth into both sides of McPhee’s nose. Bitchcakes yells out in pain as Icarus pulls back and punches McPhee right between the eyes, then does it once again. Each shot almost takes McPhee down out of the corner until finally his opponent lifts his elbow, bringing it down into the face of his angry, mentally distracted opponent. The impact causes Bitchcakes’s head to bend forward as Icarus begins to stand up on the corner above him, jumping forward and wrapping his arms around McPhee’s waist in the process. He lands on his feet with his shoulders to the back of Bitchcakes’ legs, powerbombing him out of the corner.
The fans react with cheers before they realize that Bitchcakes has flipped over backwards out of the sunset powerbomb attempt, landing right on his feet. Icarus has dropped to the canvas with his back to the turnbuckle before McPhee comes charging in, jumping forward then twisting so that he crashes back first into Strange’s chest, throwing all his weight into him with the splash. Icarus groans in pain while Bitchcakes rolls in reverse away from him.
Dan: Man, are you watching this? I’ve never seen Bitchcakes be this aggressive, something is really bothering him here tonight.
Mayne: He’s wrestling with the seriousness he should have had all these months he’s been with IWC. Well as serious a competitor as one can be with the name Bitchcakes.
Bitchcakes stands up, grabbing hold of Icarus’ ankles then lifting up on his legs, trying to drag him to the center of the ring. He can’t do it however as Icarus has taken hold of the ropes, keeping himself from being dragged into a more prone position. Bitchcakes becomes furious and pulls with more force on the legs, causing Icarus to have to lift his hands up, grabbing the second cables, then the top ones. He keeps pulling himself upwards the more is body is elevated into the air by Bitchcakes who does one last tug on his legs. As soon as he does, Icarus flips over, landing right on his feet in front of the angry McPhee, who charges forward with a lariat. Icarus ducks it then turns, bending his head forward as he hooks both of McPhee’s arms, hoisting him into the air then dropping back into the Skeleton Key (Vertibreaker). McPhee’s body hits the ring with great force right across the back of his neck and shoulders, causing him to spring from the canvas and land on his chest and stomach. The crowd is shocked by the quick, vicious counter, Icarus turning to his knees and crawling into the cover. He pushes McPhee onto his back then hooks his leg.
1
2
3!
Everyone in the building is shocked as Icarus picks up the win out of nowhere, taking one move to finish off his highly distracted and vulnerable opponent. Many fans are clapping, very impressed by Icarus’ quick victory.
Douglas: Wow, I can’t believe this, after a short offensive fury McPhee was pinned by Icarus out of nowhere thanks to that absolutely vicious Skeleton Key move of his. This is a man who survived four separate matches a couple weeks ago, and yet he’s taken out with the Skeleton Key almost immediately.
Mayne: Icarus with a very impressive showing here tonight, that’s for sure. Maybe Bitchcakes should start concentrating on his match more, instead of allowing himself to be distracted with his stolen beer and his despair over having no more heroes.
Strange rises to his feet and dusts off his shoulder before throwing an arm into the air, getting a tremendous reaction from the fans, who are all rather pleased with his victory. He stops for a moment to bend forward and take hold of McPhee’s hand, lifting it into the air and squeezing it before knuckling up with the fist attached to his unconscious body. Finally Strange lets it drop and turns towards the ropes with a grin on his face, making his way to them to many cheers. He slides through the ropes and vacates the ring, still enjoying his celebration while a very tired McPhee rests on his elbows and knees, sweating profusely thanks to that match between himself and Strange. Nevertheless he forces himself up to his feet and staggers around, looking about at the sea of humanity all around him, many beginning to cheer out of sympathy, and chat his name. In that moment he’s slightly perked up by their support despite his disastrous loss until Max Power’s entrance music hits the PA system, the fans reacting with cheers at the sight of the superhuman sauntering out onto the stage and spinning in a circle with his forearm thrust out. He bends forward and looks around at the screaming crowd then marches down the ramp, hiding something behind his back and under his cape.
Mayne: Well the mood has certainly changed here, Bitchcakes fighting in a hard fought match surprisingly for his out of shape ass, and now his moment of thunder is being snatched away by someone more deserving of the spotlight. Our very own superhero himself, Max POWWWEEERR!!
Douglas: Don’t ever do that again!
Bitchcakes continues to glare at Power in confusion before Max rolls under the ropes to the inside of the ring. He surprisingly keeps his distance from Bitchcakes, who continues to observe him with great scrutiny. Looking him up and down with piercing eyes while Max steps towards the ropes, being handed a microphone through the cables by the time keeper. Power steps back to the center of the ring, continuing to exchange a glare with McPhee who hasn’t taken his eyes off his former hero.
Power: Citizen Bitchcakes, I wish I could say that I’ve come out here to help you celebrate your victory.
Max says this while moving his face from side to side and up and down repeatedly, adding emphasis to every word and astounding McPhee in the process. Although angry Bitchcakes can’t hide his admiration for the superhero, who continues to hold something behind his back and under his cape, a square like shape.
Max: But that isn’t true faithful citizen, for I’ve come forth to give you the answers you so desperately require. I, Max Power have come before you to atone for the lies I’ve been telling you these past few months, lies that were meant to protect you, from you.
McPhee is taken aback, stepping in reverse as if his heart is crushed to hear that Power has been lying to him all these months. He places his palms over his chest as if about to have a heart attack while Max sticks out his palm while still holding the microphone, requesting that he be given a moment to explain.
Mayne: I thought superheroes were incapable of telling lies. Isn’t that Superman’s oath, wasn’t he unable to lie about chopping down the cherry tree?
Douglas: Wrong person, wrong era, one was a superhero and one was the president of the united states.
Billy: Superman was never president.
A stunned Bitchcakes continues to watch as Max reveals something from behind his back, an empty twelve pack of beer. McPhee’s face goes ghost white as Power holds the box out to his side and then slowly begins to hand it to him. As Bitchcakes takes hold of the empty case he appears to be getting sicker by the second, about to throw up at a moment’s notice.
Max: I’m the one who took your beer Bitchcakes. But like a fiendish super villain wielding an atomic robot scorpion, that I’ve had to take away from him for his own good and the well being of others, the same basic principle applies to why I took your beer. It was for your own good, your own well being. You were on a path of destruction, and you offended the senses of almost everyone around you, so I saved you by taking away the very thing that was causing your evil. I took your beer and I disposed of it to save you from yourself.
McPhee almost has tears in his eyes, feeling greatly betrayed the longer that Max Power explains himself.
Power: I did all of this for the greater good, and I know one day you’ll see it that way to Bitchcakes. The reason I lead you into attacks, and deceived you was because I wanted you to realize that beer wasn’t worth the cost of your own well being, of your very life. That’s why I did this with your beer as well.
The deceitful superhero raises his arm towards the big screen as Bitchcakes turns to face it, still unable to believe what he’s hearing, the anxiety in his stomach swelling. On the titontron many images begin to be revealed all relating to Max Power standing over the kitchen sink with beers gathered all around him. He seems to be humming his own personal theme song as he lifts one beer into the air, turning it upside down and allowing all the contents to spill into the kitchen, being washed away. Bitchcakes’ jaw is opened widely, shaking his head as if he’s moving in slow motion, the muscles in his body even being unable to understand this destruction of defenseless alcohol.
Max: I poured all your beer, all your kryptonite down the sink to keep you from killing what remains of your brain cells, seeing as there’s only about two of them left, and they both have mullets. And then I had to properly destroy the bottle, the memory of what’s been causing your slow dissension from morality.
On the titontron Max is shown putting the bottle on a counter in a pile of broken glass before lifting a wooden hammer, slamming it over the object. The bottle bursts into pieces that go flying everyone.
Bitchcakes: NO! NOOOO!
McPhee is falling against the ropes chest first with his shaking hands sliding into his hair, disturbed to his very core by the shameful destruction of the bottles.
Max: But that wasn’t enough, oh no, no, that wouldn’t truly hit you where it needs to hit you and teach the lesson that needs to be learned. Therefore, I melted down the glass, and to show you all your wasted potential from years of being on this filth, I added it to a giant glass stature of me.
The big screen provides images of Power working with glass then shown polishing a giant stature of himself doing a heroic pose. Both Max in the ring, and on the big screen are giving a heroic thumbs up in the direction of the glass statue.
Billy: Great, I thought I was the only one who knew how to make big iconic statues, you should see the one in my crapper.
Douglas: I’m tired of being forced to look at things you leave in the bathroom. I’m stunned, a little, that Max was the culprit behind the theft of Bitchcakes beer, all because it was for his own good?
There is clear and unbridled surprise in the welting eyes of McPhee who turns towards Max with his hands still clutching at his hair, having dropped the old beer box in the center of the ring. Max is still holding up his palm, asking Bitchcakes to be patient. He then turns away from McPhee to continue explaining himself.
Max: So you see, I did none of this out of malice or spite towards you McPhee, I just wanted to save your life and make you a model citizen instead of being the worthless deviant you are now. You have potential Bitchcakes, and it’s my goal to make you see that potential instead of being controlled with your obsession on alcohol. I will guide you McPhee, and make you the role model that children clamor to see, just like me. Doesn’t that sounds nice loyal citizen?
Max turns towards Bitchcakes and extends the microphone right before he’s hit in the ribs with the Charging Bull. The impact lifts Max up off his feet and sends him crashing in shock spine first against the canvas.
Douglas: Oh, Bitchcakes McPhee just speared Power!
Mayne: I thought this man was his hero.
Dan: Not anymore apparently.
McPhee stands up and backs away from Max who is lying on his side, holding his ribs in utter agony. For once Bitchcakes is serious, absolutely serious, trembling with rage in fact as drool seeps from the corner of his lips. He shakes while continuing to glare down at Max, who had deceived him for so long, but all to help him. McPhee fails to see it that way though as he grabs the beer box off the canvas then hurls it down right on top of Power. Finally the angry Bitchcakes makes his way towards the ropes, sliding through them onto the apron.
Dan: What a surprising turn of events, Max Power lying to McPhee, and Bitchcakes getting what he deems to be a measure of revenge. I can kind of understand why Bitchcakes would be so angry, but I also can relate to Max, who was just trying to help in his own diluted way of thinking.
Mayne: I’d be spiteful towards anyone who wasted my beer as well, but you don’t attack a superhero when they don’t have time to make a force-field for protection.
Bitchcakes has rolled under the ropes to the outside of the ring, backing up the ramp slowly while still giving a very angry, menacing glare towards Power. Max has gotten an elbow beneath him, holding him up while he grips at his ribs and glares at McPhee with rabid intensity. The anger subsides from his face though, as he puts on a rather stoic gaze, breathing hard and perhaps understanding why Bitchcakes responded the way that he did. That’s when the fans start to scream at the sight of Pat Evans sliding into the ring behind Power, stepping towards him and grabbing hold of his ankle. Before Max can respond his leg is lifted into the air and Pat begins to twist at it repeatedly, holding him in the ankle lock. He has a very intense expression on his face as he continues to twist at Power’s ankle, about to rip it in two. Bitchcakes watches this from the ramp before shaking his head and backing through the curtains, no longer caring. The fans are reacting with absolute disgust as the already taken Power is now being held in the ankle lock by an opportunistic Evans.
Douglas: Pat Evans coming out of nowhere and assaulting Max Power, why is he doing this?
Mayne: You may remember that MAX and Evans got into fisticuffs earlier, and MAX is a good friend of Max Power. So Evans is assaulting the superhero to get back at his buddy.
Dan: Yeeeeaaahhh.
Max tries not to groan or yell out in pain as his ankle is almost broken in the hands of Pat Evans. That’s when the crowd starts to go nuts at the sight of Axl Evermore rushing towards the ring, sliding into it and trying to get at Pat who quickly breaks the ankle lock. He drops down and rolls under the ropes to the outside of the ring as a still sweaty Axl runs to the cables, reaching over them in order to get his hands on Evans. However, Pat has moved just outside of his arms length with a crude, half smirk on his otherwise placid face. Power has rolled onto his side, still gripping at his ankle with both hands while Max continues to glare at Evans moving around the ring to the ramp. He backs up it slowly while continuing to gaze at Evermore, who is following him with his eyes, not removing them from the dangerous submission based expert.
Dan: Axl Evermore coming to the aid of his tag team….I mean, his friend Max Power.
Mayne: The damage may have already been done Dan, it may have already been done to even the ankle of a superhero.
Douglas: Pat Evans sending a clear cut message with another sneak attack, just like the one he perpetuated against Chapel last week.
Axl bends down to check on Power while continuing to lock eyes with Evans who is still backing up the ramp, trying to grin as if hehas the facial muscles to do so. There is real tension in the air between both men. That’s when the crowd starts to go nuts as…
AND I HOPE YOU’RE SATISFIED!
…plays over the PA system, all eyes turning towards the stage where General Manager AWOL is now standing, having just strolled through the curtains with a very serious expression on his face. Pat has stopped on the ramp and turned towards him, glaring sternly into his eyes while Axl helps Max to his feet, also exchanging a glare with the General Manager. AWOL seems greatly irritated while rubbing at the back of his bald scalp, as if he just cant’ take anymore of this lunacy.
Mayne: And if this couldn’t get any more clusterfuckish, here comes AWOL, that trained gorilla taught to stand on its hind-legs to further complicate matters.
Douglas: AWOL coming out here to perhaps put a stop to all this craziness.
All eyes continue to be focused on the frustrated AWOL who lifts a microphone to his lips while unleashing a meager chuckle.
AWOL: Well now, things have certainly gotten a bit confusing as of late. Ha, imagine that, the words confusing and IWC being linked together. That was me being sarcastic for the more retarded viewers, which I guess pretty much describes them all.
A mixed reaction comes from the baffled fans, unsure of how to respond to that last statement. AWOL doesn’t care about their reaction as he twists his sights towards the ring where Axl and Max are still standing, with Pat located on the ramp displaying no emotion whatsoever.
AWOL: But insulting people aside, which is hard since everyone in this building is so open to ridicule, I’ve come out here to express my frustration over this whole “who the better submission wrestler is” crap. As many of you may know, actually you probably don’t, I was the first ever ULW Submission Champion. Well, technically Hunter was, but he doesn’t really count, and has become just as much of a forgotten memory as any of my great title reigns. I was never forced to submit for that belt though, losing it in a triple threat thanks to the man who never fails to well, fail, Psycho. Therefore, there’s only one man, one individual who has only been forced to submit once in his career, who can lay claim to being the greatest submission wrestler, and that man is me.
Both Axl and Pat roll their eyes simultaneously.
AWOL: So I think I can tell a true submission specialist when I see them, and neither of you two idiots have what it takes to make me tap out, let alone be considered the best submission based wrestler. However, I guess I have been wrong in the past, which would explain my choice of teammates at Born Again, so I’ll give you both the benefit of the doubt for the time being. Therefore at Breathless, we’re going to have ourselves a little match, it’s going to be a Submission Series. I’d explain the rules, but I don’t really feel like wasting my breath. The only thing you need to know is that submission or KOs are the only ways to win, and that there will be numerous parties involved, perhaps even you Axl, or you Pat. Most importantly, I guess, the winner of that match will be in top contention for the Submission Championship should Hurse choose to defend it or pass it off to another, which could very well end up being one of you two. Let’s see who truly is the best submission wrestler shall we, so I no longer have to put up with your annoying banter over who’s the greatest. Prove it and let that be the end of it. You fucking bastards are giving me a God damned migraine, so please, beat the shit out of each other and shut the fuck up.
AWOL flings down his microphone as his music hits one more, the General Manager marching through the curtains to the back.
Dan: GM AWOL laying down the law and hopefully putting an end to this madness over who’s the better submission wrestler. It will be the Submission Series at Breathless, let’s find out who truly is the better technical specialist.
Mayne: It’s going to be submission based warfare at Breathless.
Both men’s eyes are interlocked, Evans and Evermore glaring at one another with hostility brewing between them.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
CLASSIC ULW EVENTS NOW HALF OFF AT IWCSHOP.COM
JON RICH VS. CHRISTIAN SAVIOR
"Metalingus" plays over the PA as the lights go out. The crowds cheer as smoke fills the stage.
You think you know me?
On this day I see clearly everything has come to life
On this day it's so real to me
A bitter place and a broken dream
And we'll leave it all behind
Everything has come to life
Another chance to chase a dream
Another chance to feel
Chance to feel alive
As the chorus plays, a standing Savior appears before them through a thick amount of smoke. Smiling, he makes his way down to the ring with the X-Class title draped over one of his shoulders. Sliding into the ring, he smirks confidently at the audience.
I'll never long for what might have been.
Regret won't waste my life again.
I won't look back. I'll fight to remain...
Slowing rising to his feet, Savior keeps his eyes locked on the audience as he stands in the centre of the ring.
On this day I see clearly everything has come to life
On this day it's so real to me
A bitter place and a broken dream
And we'll leave it all behind
Everything has come to life.
Another chance to chase a dream
Another chance to feel
Chance to feel alive...
Savior slowly raises his arms, forming an X around his chest and over the X-Class title belt that hangs over his shoulder .
I've been defeated and brought down
Dropped to my knees when hope ran out
The time has come to change my ways...
Suddenly, Savior separates his arms and keeps his head lowered. His arms stretch out and he raises his head as fire appears from the turnbuckles and the cry of a phoenix is heard from the skies.
On this day I see clearly everything has come to life
On this day it's so real to me
A bitter place and a broken dream
And we'll leave it all behind
Everything has come to life
Another chance to chase a dream
Another chance to feel
Chance to feel alive...
Christian removes his title belt, glaring its shimmering surface with a slight smirk and then handing it to the referee, threatening Stuart Wright to make sure nobody touches his stolen title strap.
Douglas: Welcome back to IWC Riot!, after a much needed commercial break that broke us away from all the craziness that was just occurring in the ring. And now we come back with Christian Savior. Here’s a man who came into the IWC with a lot of momentum, and a truly bright future until he started consorting with our so called bosses, Sallie and Krissie.
Mayne: And now his future is brighter than ever Dan, brighter than ever. He’s found a way to jump over the rest of the talent and get himself immediately into the limelight, him deciding to associate with S.K is probably the smartest thing he’s done in his whole career.
Dan: I highly doubt that, and I highly doubt that it’s going to pay off exactly as Christian hopes, as Orlando and Creed are now out for blood.
Mayne: The only one who got blood here tonight was Desolation, which you’ll see in just a few short moments when Jon Rich staggers his way out here. We all know he’s going to compete since he’s too much of an idiot to throw the towel in and ensure he doesn’t have further injures later on.
Douglas: The man is full of courage.
Mayne: I call it stupidity.
Christian leans spine first against the turnbuckle and yawns, really not eagerly anticipating this impending match up apparently. It seems that he almost expects not to have an opponent at all when “Unbreakable” by Bon Jovi gets to play over the PA system causing a huge eruption of cheers from the crowd. Many of them were anticipating him to have to throw in the towel after the brutality inflicted on him earlier in the evening, but he refuses to do so as he marches through the curtains right onto the ramp. His arm tries feebly to cover his mid-section, which is all wrapped up, just like Orlando Cruze a few weeks ago after suffering a similar attack from S.K. The N.H.B championship is dangling from his grasp, scraping across the ramp while he moves slowly towards the ring, agonizing with every single step, yet refusing to tuck his tail between his legs and run away to fight another day. He remains headstrong while moving towards the ring then rolling under the ropes with a cringe, throwing down his title belt in the process while reaching for his ribcage.
Mayne: What did I tell you Dan? He came out here to get himself injured even worse. Rich has best start looking into getting workman’s comp.
Douglas: Although it may be foolish of Rich to come out here and compete given his injuries and all, you got to keep it in your mind that there is no backing down from this phenomenal athlete, injuries and all. He proved that last week when he stood up face to face with Desolation.
Billy: Another stupid, ridiculous decision on his part. You see what standing up to Desolation got him.
In agony Rich rises to his feet, Wright stepping up in front of him and beginning to inquire as to rather he really wants to compete in this match or not. Jon nods his head yet that even causes him pain, reaching for his ribs in anguish before Christian charges up behind him, delivering a hard clubbing blow right to his upper back. Rich is knocked to his knees as Savior steps in front of him, clubbing him repeatedly over the spine with both arms now, the crowd standing, screaming in outrage over what they’re seeing. Rich tries to cover up while grimacing in pain before he’s taken by the wrist and dragged up to his feet then whipped with great speed directly into one of the turnbuckles. Jon turns and bounces off the corner side first which launches him down to the canvas, his battered torso bashing off of it and causing him to roll around screaming from the horrific pain coursing through his mid-section. He reaches for his taped up ribs, some of which might be broken as Savior steps towards him and now reaches out, taking hold of the top rope. Using the cable to balance himself, Savior puts both his feet on Jon’s lower back, pushing his legs down hard into them. The Champion shakes his head back and forth while balling his fists up and roaring in agony as Christian takes great satisfaction in pressing his heels to his battered mid-section. Wright steps in, starting a five count before Savior breaks his grip on the cables then drops down knee first right into Rich’s back. Jon closes his eyes and flops on the canvas, his entire body contorting while the official steps in front of Savior, backing him up, demanding he give Rich some time to recover.
A grin is present on Christian’s face though, his eyes full of apathy while motioning for Wright to go ahead and ask Rich if he wants to give up now. Before the official can do as he’s instructed Rich rolls under the cables onto the apron, grabbing the ropes and using them to pull his very battered frame up to his feet. Savior now charges in only for Rich to launch a forearm over the cables right into his face. The crowd reacts with shock at the sight of Jon getting in some offense while Christian is staggered by the blow to his forehead. The fraudulent X-Class Champion moves towards Rich again only to be grabbed by the back of the head, Jon dropping to his knees on the apron and pulling his opponent down throat first into the ropes. Christian bounces off and stumbles in reverse once more, gagging as he places his hands around his throat, Jon standing up on the apron in front of him. He grabs the top rope and is about to pull himself up and over when he grimaces in pain, causing him to reach for his ribs and immediately stop whatever it was that he was going for. Christian spots this and charges in quickly as a result only for Rich to throw another right hand over the cables. This time Savior avoids it by dropping down into a baseball slide between Rich’s legs though, landing on his feet behind his opponent’s back on the outside mats. Just as he starts to step forward though, the N.H.B Champ spins around to face him and jumps off the apron, landing on Savior’s shoulders. He drags him around and snaps him over into a huge hurricarana, his opportunistic opposition flipping through the air then coming down spine first into the mats.
Douglas: Jon Rich answering back against Christian Savior’s offense, exploding with that hurricarana on the outside mats, injured ribs and all.
Mayne: So what, he’s got a booboo and your acting like its superhuman of him to be pulling off a hurricarana. I’m less impressed than I was watching Little Miss Sunshine.
Those packed into the Manhattan Center are putting their hands together and creating a loud rumble at the sight of Rich’s last move while he grips at his ribs coughing badly. He grabs the apron, using it to pull himself to his feet while a shocked Savior is attempting to get up as well. As soon as he gets his feet beneath him Jon steps in, lobbing a punch into his face, followed by another strike. Each impact almost knocks Savior’s feet out from beneath him before Jon kicks him to the gut, taking him by the wrist, whipping him right at the steel barricade. Christian turns and bends forward, the top of his head and the back of his shoulders slamming with force against the steel plates of the barricade. The impact leaves a dent in the steel and causes Savior to yell out in pain, reaching out and grabbing the barricade though, using it to force himself up to his feet. He is in pain, but not nearly as bad as Jon’s condition as the N.H.B Champion comes charging in at Savior now. Christian turns and bends forward though, catching Rich against his shoulders and back dropping him over the barricade. Rich turns and lands feet first on the concrete behind the barricade, avoiding spilling to the exposed hard floor while in the process reaching for his taped up ribs. Savior staggers away from the barricade as Rich throws caution to the wind by again displaying his agility, springing up feet first onto the top of the barricade, seconds from launching himself off. Suddenly Christian turns and charges at Rich though, extending his foot and connecting with a running boot to his opponent’s shin, knocking Jon off the barricade, causing him to land ribs first on top of it. The fans react with utter disgust and disbelief, covering their mouths as the already injured ribs of Rich crash with such force right into the barricade.
Mayne: Well, there went Rich’s offensive flurry, there’s no coming back from that, especially with injured ribs.
Douglas: I hate to agree with you, I really, really do, since it pretty damns my soul to the pits of hell, but your correct, there may be no way that Rich can come back after that blow to previously injured ribs.
A smirking Savior stands up and approaches Rich who is still leant over the barricade, gripping at his ribs in incredible pain. He can’t stop Christian from grabbing him around the neck, placing his head over his shoulder then stepping forward, dragging Rich’s shin onto the top of the barricade with the rest of his body elevated over the mats. The fans scream as Christian drops into a diamond cutter, dragging Jon off the barrier and pulling him down face first into the thin protective mats. Jon’s features crash off with a tremendous thud, causing him to roll onto his back completely sprawled out. Savior sits on the mats chuckling to himself at this point, realizing he may have just taken Rich completely out of this match. He rises nevertheless and steps to Rich’s side before jumping into the air, delivering a double stomp right to his opponent’s mid-section. Jon curls up into a ball, unable to even interpret the pain coursing through his ribs at this point. A bit of blood can be seen dripping from the corner of Jon’s mouth now, the fans watching on intently, realizing he may have severe internal injuries at this point. Their reaction gets louder as from the back charges Roxas Knoxx, rushing towards the ring with a very concerned expression on her face. She stops at ringside watching in dismay the longer that her boyfriend is tormented within the hands of Christian Savior.
The screams and fear of Roxas fall on death ears, Rich in far too much pain to hear her as he’s taken by the hair and dragged to his feet by Savior. Christian spins Jon around and lobs a punch into his face, followed by another strike, the impacts almost taking Jon down, yet somehow he remains standing. Only long enough however for Savior to charge forward, burying his shoulder into Jon’s gut then charging him back first right into the ring apron. Jon’s spine is arched around the hard portion of the ring, the crowd reacting with disgust at the sight of the N.H.B Champion’s pain ridden features. There is no rest of recuperation for Rich though, as he’s grabbed by the hair and led forward before being turned to the ring, rolled in under the cables to the inside. Jon rolls to the very center of the ring, still reaching for his ribs while Roxas slaps the apron, screaming into the ring at him to get up.
Roxas: Stop this Jon, stop this before its too late! You’ve got nothing left to prove, nothing left to prove!
Now that Jon is prone Savior climbs onto the apron and takes hold of the top rope, springing up onto it. He balances himself for a moment then jumps high into the hair off the top rope, coming down with another double stomp directly into Rich’s ribs. A roar of absolute, pure, unbridled agony flows from Jon’s battered mid-section where Savior continues to stand now, stepping off of it yet. He again balances himself and jumps into the air into a moonsault right off Orlando’s ribs back onto his ribs. The impact is vicious and allows Savior to hook Jon’s legs, going for the pinfall amongst screams from both Knoxx and the fans. Wright slides in to make a quick emphatic count.
1
2
Rich somehow finds the strength to shoot his shoulder from the canvas, turning away from Christian in pain before Savior spins to face him, scooting in to lock him up in the abdominal stretch. He’s got the submission perfectly locked in on the injured Rich, the ribs being his primary target, really straining at the bones and muscles all throughout Jon’s mid-section. The N.H.B Champion kicks his heels to the canvas while Savior continues to press the advantage, gripping and wrenching at the ribs of his opposition. Roxas covers his hand over her eyes, unable to force herself to watch what is being done to the man she’s grown to have feelings for.
Roxas: Just tap out already Jon, please, don’t do this to yourself, it’s not worth it!
Rich won’t listen, he refuses to as he continues to hang in there against Savior, already beginning to force himself to his feet.
Mayne: I never knew Roxas was as wise as she is sexy, yet Rich fails to please her in both fields. Why he is keeping this fight up is beyond me, especially when it’s basically a lost cause at this point.
Douglas: Nothing is a lost cause when you’ve got the fighting spirit that Jon does.
Blood is still seeping from the corner of Rich’s mouth while he wills his way upwards, Christian still trying his best to hold onto the submission but finding it increasingly difficult. The pleas from Roxas seem to be firing Rich up, internal injuries or not internal injuries. Finally Jon reaches his feet then unleashes a roar, hoisting up on Savior’s arm and hip tossing him over. Somehow Savior twists his body in the middle of the hip toss though and lands right on his feet facing Rich. Jon’s eyes widen with disbelief only long enough for Savior to jump into the air, placing his feet to his gut and wrapping his hands around the back of his neck. He drops in reverse, delivering a money flip only for Jon to flip over out of it, landing right on his feet, continuing to display his amazing agility for a man of his size. Jon grabs his ribs then charges forward into the cables, bouncing off of them to get a running start at Savior who jumps to his feet then charges at Rich, catching him with a knee to the abdomen. The wind is sucked out of the sails of the fans just like it’s pushed from Rich’s lungs as he’s flipped over, crashing hard back first to the canvas. He rolls onto his elbows and knees, reaching for his barely bandaged ribs throughout the process before Savior jumps over him, charging into the cables at his side. He springs into the air landing on the second rope and springing off into a moonsault right across the back of his opponent. Rich is forced down into the canvas, yelling again at the top of his lungs while reaching for his spine and mid-section, his ribs in terrible pain. He coughs up more blood as Roxas watches this with tears in her eyes, the sight of Rich in this type of agony being almost unbearable to her.
Mayne: Again Jon is shut down before he can get anything going. He’s just being thoroughly owned at this point by a much better athlete.
Douglas: Christian is indeed a greatly skilled athlete, but I don’t think its exactly fair to imply that he’s better than Rich, given Jon’s current physical condition. If Rich wants a shot in hell of winning this match he’s got to keep up with some sustained offense.
Christian crawls up behind Rich, grabbing hold of his hair to sit him up before locking his arms around his waist. He’s got him in a textbook bearhug that is causing more grief for Rich than can ever be imagined. Blood is running a little more smoothly from the corners of Rich’s mouth, yet he still refuses to give up, Wright stepping in and wanting to call for the bell immediately but Jon stops him with one clear defiant shout. He’s still hanging in there even as his body takes all of it can possibly withstand, Savior really gripping at his mid-section tightly within his interlocked hands around the front of his bandaged gut. Roxas screams again and begs Jon to just give it up already, understanding the toll this match is taking on his body. His stubbornness can’t even begin to be described though, trying once again to force himself to his feet with Savior clamping onto his possibly broken ribs even more tightly. Somehow Jon is rallied to his feet by the screaming crowd as he shakes his arms out to his sides and now throws a back elbow at the side of Savior’s face. Christian ducks it and releases him from the bearhug in the process, causing Rich to turn around to face him when Savior jumps into the air, burying his knees right to Cruze’s chest. He falls backwards, dragging Jon down sternum first right into his shins. The collision causes Rich to stand up straight, wrapping his arms around his mid-section and sternum while Savior rolls backwards onto his feet, stepping in quickly. He takes hold of his opponent’s wrist and whips him with force right at the turnbuckle, chasing in after him, pursuing his pray. Right as Rich nears the corner he extends his hands outward, catching the top cable and kicking his legs up into the air. Savior charges into the turnbuckle beneath him as Jon lands gracefully on his feet behind Christian’s back, catching him around the waist. In a quick fluid motion Rich snaps over backwards into a stiff German suplex, planting the back of Christian’s head and shoulders into the canvas. An agonizing Rich bridges over backwards into the pin as Wright drops to make the count.
1
Jon releases Christian, falling onto his side and wrapping his arms around his ribs, unable to keep him in the bridging position. Claret again begins to flow from within his body, spilling out from the corner of his mouth to the canvas below. Even while in this state of pure agony he rises to his feet, Savior rolling to his knees, attempting to get up in front of him. As soon as he gets to his feet still hunched over, Rich steps out of the corner, drilling him to the face with a straight upward kick. The collision knocks Savior through a loop, causing him to stand up right and stagger about, swinging his arms out to his sides to keep himself upright. Rich steps forward with a punch only for Savior to turn suddenly, catching him around the neck, going for his version of the diamond cutter once again. Before he can hit it though, Rich pulls his head free and reaches out wrapping his arm around Savior’s neck, dropping to his seat as he counters into a huge reverse DDT. Savior’s skull hits off the ring hard, the fake X-Class Champion rolling to his elbows and knees immediately after the impact. He wraps his arm around the back of his neck and turns away from Rich who forces himself to his feet in front of him. Just as Christian gets up on instinct alone he’s jabbed to the side of the face. The punch staggers Savior only long enough to be chopped with force right across the sternum. Jon then he takes him by the wrist, whipping Christian into the cables behind him only for the Rising Phoenix to jump into the air, landing feet first on the second rope. He springs off, twisting in mid air as he lands right on top of Rich’s shoulders, going for the hurricarana. Before he can hit it Jon plants his feet and pushes up on the back of his opponent’s thighs, launching Savior into the air before Rich turns to catch him with a fireman’s carry then falls sideways into a brutal Death Valley Driver. Savior’s whole body hits the ring with tremendous force, leaving him laid out on the canvas now as a desperate, still bleeding Rich turns, crawling into the cover.
1
2
No, Savior gets his shoulder up just in time.
Douglas: Jon Rich finally getting in some offense with an explosive DVD on Savior, but Christian proving that it’s going to take a little more than that to finish him off.
Mayne: Well, I’m mildly surprised that Rich is hanging in there and actually capable of hitting these moves on Savior, his body should have broken down long ago after all its endured here tonight.
The concerned look on Roxas’ face has yet to change, rather Jon’s on offense or not, she knows full well what this is doing to his body. Jon will not be deterred though, already forcing himself up to his feet while Christian gets to elbows and knees in front of him. The exhausted, battered Rich forces him up the rest of the way then begins to launch repeated forearm strikes right into Christian’s face. Each blow causes Savior’s knees to almost buckle beneath him until Jon steps in, throwing a knee upward into his gut. Christian is bent forward but Jon steps in and hits him with another knee to the mid-section that knocks Savior into the air, coming down on all fours in front of him. Jon now steps forward over top the head of Savior, reaching down as he wraps his arms around his waist. Not thinking clearly Rich lifts Savior up into the air and onto his shoulders for a powerbomb but then yells out in pain, forced to allow Christian to drop to his feet right in front of him. Savior jumps into the air at Rich while he’s got the opportunity, going for a leg lariat only for Jon to duck it. Savior lands on his feet behind Rich’s back when Jon spins to face him, trying to interlock his arms about his throat in order to connect with the Get Rich Quick. Before he can even think about hitting it, Savior ducks down and easily slides behind Jon’s back thanks to the weakened condition his opponent is in. He places his hands to the spine of Rich and shoves him forward into the cables. Jon bounces off, coming right back into a huge spear to the mid-section, Savior turning his larger opponent inside out with the Blaze of Glory. The fans react with dejection at the sight of Rich crashing so viciously into the ring then rolling across it as he wraps his arms about his ribs. He stomps the back of his heels to the canvas and begins to spit up a great deal of blood. It’s absolutely gushing from his mouth at this point and spilling all over the canvas.
Mayne: The Blaze of Glory, after that move this one is over ladies and gentlemen, there is absolutely no questioning that.
Douglas: Rich looked like he was coming back in this match and then bam, he’s hit with that spear out of nowhere by Savior, a move that was amplified by those possibly shattered ribs. Who knows what that did to Jon’s internal injuries.
The fans are vocal in their clear disgust as Savior crawls into the cover on his injured opponent, realizing full and well that he’s got the win.
1
2
3!
To great applause and Savior’s disbelief, Rich gets his shoulder off the canvas, turning away from Christian and wrapping his arms around his ribs once again. A far off gleam is in his clouded eyes while blood pipes up through his larynx and leaks down both sides of his face. Roxas can’t stand seeing this anymore, running around the ring towards the time keeper.
Douglas: Jon kicked out, somehow he kicked out, and for once I have to say that it may have been a fool hearty move given his current condition.
Mayne: It’s about time you agreed with me.
Dan: Don’t remind me. At this point the referee really needs to be asking himself if this match should be stopped or Rich’s career could be ended here.
Roxas grabs a white towel from the time keeper and rushes towards the ring, raising it above her head as if she’s about to throw it in. She hesitates though, asking herself if it’s the right move while in the ring Savior has scooted up behind Rich and locked his arms around the badly damaged torso of his opponent. Jon screams out in absolute agony, his fingers digging into his palms while more and more blood flows from within and spills out onto his exterior. Rich is fading the longer he’s held in this submission by Savior, who is gripping tighter and tighter at his opponent’s mid-section, until the ribs that weren’t broken are about to snap. Jon begins to fall sideways as the official asks him rather he gives up or not, only for Rich to mumble almost incoherently the word “no.” Roxas can’t take the sight of this anymore, watching Rich’s body become a pale shade of white the more he’s gripped within the arms of Savior, witnessing all that blood ooze from within. Finally she tosses the white towel into the ring on Rich’s behalf, the referee turning and spotting it. He eagerly rises, calling for the bell, demanding that this match end and that Christian release Rich from the bearhug.
Dan: Although I hate to see it happen, Roxas did the right thing by stopping this match on Rich’s behalf. Christian was mangling his injured body in there.
Mayne: Nice way to use her brain for once Knoxx, instead of shaking your ass to get what you want.
The crowd is booing while others watch on with concern, Savior still releasing Rich from this bearhug. He continues to squeeze and twist at Jon’s frame, causing him to spit up more blood. Wright is trying to dragging him off but can’t pry his arms away from Rich’s waist, Christian seeming intent on permanently injuring the N.H.B Champion. Rich can’t even shout out in pain anymore, appearing to have completely passed out from the agony as the bell continues to sound in the background. Savior is not content with getting a win via referee stoppage, he wants to break Rich completely. A furious Roxas reaches under the ring, grabbing a steel chair, sliding it out then rolling under the cables onto the canvas. She stands up lifting the chair over her shoulder as she approaches Savior, trying to stop this onslaught from continuing. Christian catches a glimpse of her coming though, breaking the submission then standing up, shooting a penetrating stare in her direction that makes Knoxx freeze in mid-step. She stands there trembling in outrage while clutching at the chair tightly, unsure of what she should do. Her mind is made up for her as Christian extends his arms, motioning towards the unconscious Rich, informing her that she can have what’s left. He turns with a chuckle and slips through the ropes onto the apron, approaching the announce table while taking hold of the X-Class title belt which is promptly handed to him. The gold is raised into the air by a still smiling Savior while Roxas drops down beside Rich, wrapping her hands around his face, holding his dreary, almost lifeless head up. She turns shouting out for assistance, terrified over Rich’s condition. Unfortunately the only person who heeds her call for someone is the man who has slid into the ring behind her, standing over her back. He casts an ominous shadow over both Roxas and the fallen body of Rich, the crowd reacting with disgust at the sight of Desolation.
Douglas: Oh come on, haven’t you already done enough to this man? Leave him alone already Desolation, you damned vulture.
Mayne: Well, he certainly has swooped in to pick the bones of the man he beat down viciously earlier in the evening, and if Roxas has a good head on her shoulder she’ll get the hell out of the way.
Knoxx notices the shadow cast over her as the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She twists her head and finds herself glaring up into the smirking face of Desolation, who quite enjoys the sight of the bloodied, barely breathing Jon Rich lying on the canvas before him. Roxas now gets up and before she can think clearly shoves Desolation backwards, the Dark Man staggering in reverse and barely catching himself before he goes down. He looks at his chest where Roxas touched until his cold, malice eyes rise to take into view the sight of Knoxx. The tough young competitor is screaming at Desolation to leave Rich alone, to let him get assistance while Desolation steps forward, raising his hand to his chin. He strokes his jaw and nods his head before he suddenly slaps Roxas hard to the cheek with such force that it sends her into a spiral as she crashes down to the canvas. The fans immediately start groaning and booing at the sound of the vicious, stiff slap from Desolation, that has knocked Roxas out cold.
Douglas: Oh Jesus! Desolation almost took Roxas’ head off with that slap to the face. What a cold, callous individual this man is. How could he put his hands on Roxas like that and feel absolutely no remorse?
Mayne: She’s a competitor, she knows what she’s getting herself into. She asked for this Dan, and now she’s getting what she asked for.
The fans are jumping all over Desolation who looks between both bodies spread across the canvas with a diabolical twinkle in his eyes. He now approaches the steel chair Roxas brought into the ring with her, scooping it up before stepping towards Knoxx, who isn’t moving. He drops it to the ring right in front of her and then leans back, closing his eyes, savoring this moment, the sounds, the smells, all those satisfying urges. He bends down now and grabs hold of Roxas’ legs, interlocking them around his own, placing her in an Inverted Indian Death lock before grabbing her wrists, pulling back on them. Knoxx’s head is elevated off the canvas and over the chair as Desolation puts his foot to the back of her head, taking a moment to look around at his surroundings, at all the fans begging him not to do this. When it almost appears he may be listening he Curb Stomps Roxas’ pretty face right into the steel chair, the thud of her skull hitting metal causing the fans to cover their mouths, screaming in shock over what they’re seeing. Desolation backs up as Knoxx lies there a crumbled mess, blood oozing from her face across the cold steel of the chair.
Douglas: Noooo! Damn you Desolation, what have you done? What have you done you sadistic son of a bitch!?!
Mayne: Even I have to admit that may have been going too far. Oh well, I’ll get over it.
Dan: Who cares about you, Desolation may have broken Roxas’ face with that Curb Stomp onto a chair! This man has absolutely snapped.
Billy: He’s only living up to the moniker of the Dark Man.
Desolation lets out a primal roar while extending his arms out to his sides and spinning in circles. Once he turns back towards both his laid out victims a crude smile comes to his twitching face, stepping forward and taking hold of Knoxx’s wrist. He now pulls her arm almost out of its socket as its forced to drag along her limp, motionless body. A slightly satisfied Desolation drags Roxas across the ring and drops her right on top of Jon Rich, leaving her lying over his unconscious body. He takes a step back, observing this closely, saving a mental snapshot of this moment.
Dan: What Desolation has done here tonight is downright repulsive in every way. Look at what he’s done to this poor young woman, look at what he’s done to Jon Rich. I can’t wait till Jon gets him in the ring one on one, make it happen AWOL, make it happen.
Mayne: I warned Jon this would happen if he picked fights with the Alpha Generation, he didn’t listen, and now it’s led to the destruction of the woman he loves. If he’s still crazy enough to step into the ring with Desolation after this, he deserves to have his head caved in with a devastating Curb Stomp.
Desolation has rolled to the outside mats and is making his way up the ramp when he turns around to get a prolonged view of both bodies lying in the ring, stacked on top of one another. The sight of which brings a hideous smile to his face.
A HAUNTING PAST
A very tired but still fired up Nathan Creed leans side first against a large stack of crates for support, still fuming as the steel pipe he used to fend off Savior and Riddick is placed over his shoulder. He trembles almost out of pure spite and outrage, contemplating exactly what has gone down over the past few weeks and gripping at his battered skull. He’s so angered he can barely even hear Orlando Cruze talking to him, the Icon’s arms crossed over his chest, appearing just as menacing and upset. The former multi-timed ULW World Heavyweight Champion is ready to get his hands on someone, and unfortunately for Too Magnificent, he’s the individual Cruze will have the opportunity to take his frustrations out upon.
Orlando: I tell you I’m not going to play along with all this bullshit any longer Nathan. For months we’ve been subjected to hell, rather it be getting put in pointless matches against the likes of Jon Torretto, or being denied World Heavyweight title shots. And to boot, instead of being handed the tag team championships, seeing as we’re the only really worthy team, we get stuck in this big, overblown tournament. If that wasn’t enough to get us fed up, now we’ve actually got to start taking orders from two carpet munchers who act like we disrespected them…
Creed nods and finally speaks through a gritting of his clinched teeth.
Nathan: I hear you Orlando, but I can slightly see where Krissie is coming from, I hate to admit. If I were her, I’d certainly hate losing a catch like me as well, and our split was less than amicable. Sallie on the other hand, I have no idea why she’s fucking with your life Orlando, it’s not like the two of you parted on bad terms.
Orlando shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head as if he doesn’t even want to try and make sense of it anymore, asking himself these very same questions far to often over the past few weeks.
Cruze: I don’t get her motives whatsoever, I left her to get help, it’s not like I could control what her father did to her after we parted ways. She has no reason to be trying to toy with my career, I thought it was AWOL’s job to fuck me over constantly.
Well my dear, after tonight you won’t have to worry about getting fucked over anymore.
As if the air in the corridor couldn’t become anymore ripe with tension it just did at the sound of Sallie’s voice. The muscles in Orlando’s face noticeably tighten and contort before he turns his head slowly in the direction of a smiling Sallie, the jilted young woman he left so many years ago to seek psychiatric help. A smile may be present on her face, but spite is just as clear in her eyes.
Sallie: After all, it’s just a matter of minutes before the Alpha Generation’s monster, Too Magnificent, physically dominates you and puts you out of a job.
Cruze shakes his head with steam almost shooting from his snarled nostrils.
Orlando: I would actually welcome unemployment if it meant I wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore.
A light hearted chuckle comes from the vengeful woman as she places her hands over her lungs.
Sallie: Hahahaha, that’s funny Orlando, one might almost take you seriously there for a second. But we all know you love this company, and your job too much to walk away from it. Plus how are you going to support your child, and your money grubbing wife without a steady source of income? And before you say you make enough money working for SCW let’s get one thing straight, nobody makes money in that company, you get hire pay operating the Ferris wheel at the carnival than you do working for them. And that little nest-egg you’ve been accumulating will surely dry up quickly once we sue you for breech of contract.
Orlando swipes his arms through the air as if he’s had enough already. His quivering, tensed finger points threateningly in Sallie’s direction, yet she just smiles and acts un-frightened, unconcerned.
Cruze: Why don’t you just fire Nathan and I and get it over with already? Clearly you want us out of here, especially judging by the match I’m booked in tonight. So why not just fire us and let that be the end of it.
Again, instead of being taken aback or frightened, Sallie finds her laughing cold heartedly.
Sallie: Oh Orlando, I’ve almost forgotten how much you amuse me. I remember those nights long ago when you’d have me laughing so hard I’d be in tears. I bet you remember those long nights don’t you Cruze, when it was just you and I, lying next to a burning fireplace, our bodies united as one? I recall those nights clear as day.
Her finger is placed to Orlando’s exposed chest, sliding down it before Cruze takes hold of her hand, squeezing it tightly. He can’t help but to bend her arm over backwards, causing Sallie to grimace before again smiling.
Sallie: Now, now stud, calm down, remember what will happen to you should you lay a finger on your boss. Remember who’s got the power, and who’s got the money to buy not only the most expensive lawyers, but the most expensive judges too. Need I also remind you that your still being questioned in connection with Creed’s attempted hit and run, we certainly don’t want to add an assault charge to your troubles.
The Icon takes a deep, long breath of despair before he finally closes his eyes and releases her arm, Sallie pulling it back to her side and rubbing at her elbow.
Sallie: Jeez, I almost forgot about how bad your temper can be sweetheart. I can’t believe you’d have the audacity to ask why I just don’t fire you both though, isn’t it clear why you two still have jobs? Where’s the fun in just outright firing you, when we can do so much more to you while your under contract to us. Of course that may all change later tonight. But while you may win or loss Cruze, Krissie and I will be a win, win scenario, hehehehe.
Sallie chooses to leave him with those menacing words while moving past Orlando who takes her by the shoulder, spinning her around so that they come eye to eye. Sallie lifts her finger into the air, as if warning Orlando about putting his hands on her.
Sallie: Wow tiger, your hands weren’t even this grubby when we were dating.
Orlando: Cut this shit Sallie, and tell me why your doing this. I want a straight answer. Did our time together mean nothing to you?
Sallie: It means more to me than you can ever imagine.
Her expression changes abruptly, becoming very upset, increasingly angered. Her face is a shade of blood red as Orlando forces her to recall the past, the state their relationship left her in.
Sallie: You don’t deserve answers Orlando, you don’t deserve to know why I’m doing this to you you shallow, self serving pig. After what you did to me, after the way you left me, you deserve nothing but the misery you thrust on me. I hate you for what you’ve done Orlando, I hate you more than you’ll ever know, and I won’t stop until your forced to suffer like I did. I won’t stop until your burning in hell.
Sallie slaps Orlando across the cheek with authority before his brazen, furious eyes shoot back in her direction. The look she is receiving causes her to cower slightly as she too fumes from the rage flowing through her. She backs away slowly, their eyes not moving away from another.
Sallie: Its time for you to atone for your past Cruze. Your past is going to devour you, whole, hehehehe.
Confident that her message has been gotten across loud and clear she brushes her hair behind her ear, turning and walking away, leaving Cruze standing there in outrage. He breathes hard to try and calm himself down while Nathan steps up behind him, watching Sallie walk away in a state of concern and confusion.
Creed: What the hell did she mean by that?
Orlando: I don’t know, but I’m afraid we’re going to find out sooner rather than later.
The camera zooms in on the anger that boils within Orlando’s tense, penetrating gaze, more questions swarming through his head. Questions he almost doesn’t want answers to.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
RUNNING MATES (Not in the sexual sense of the word)
To a loud mixed response the face of the lovely yet not so stable minded Susie Moore comes into the camera’s view. Her smile is wide and just as breathtaking as the rest of her elegant features as she stares forward almost blushing into the lens. There almost seems to be excitement on her part considering who she’s about to interview, almost melting over the prospect of resting her eyes on him once more. Therefore she stands there giddy in front of the IWC symbol in the interview area, anxiously waiting for his arrival and not taking her eyes off the camera till he gets there.
Susie: Hello IWC fans, this is Susie Moore, your lead backstage correspondent, well, at least until Michelle Blacker gets back. Anyway, I’m standing by waiting for an interview with none other than Icarus Strang...
Right in the middle of speaking Susie pauses and meekly stares forward with a child like innocence and general lack of knowledge. Her befuddlement, much greater confusion than she faces on a day to day basis considering she constantly struggles when putting her shoes on the right feet, is intensified to new heights at the sight of Calvan Greene moseying towards her. His devilish good looks make her all the more confused while he places his palm to the IWC initials, trying to cover the massive steel design with his palm, disgusted by the mere sight of those three giant letters. The side of his chest hits her shoulder, purposely of course and causes her to quiver, speechless that he’s chewing gum, maybe a flavor that she likes.
Moore: Excuse me, but aren’t you, umm, uhhh….
Calvan smirks and takes his hand from the letters to place it over her lips. Her eyes keep darting down towards it, wondering why it’s over her lips and why it feels silkier than a baby’s rear end.
Calvan: Susie, let’s stop playing games here, let’s just get it out in the open right now. Let’s skip past the part where you try and deny it only to admit to your affections later on. You people in IWC like to drag everything out for far too long and it goes absolutely nowhere, after all, why would you still be in IWC if you were you were able to accomplish like anything. So just fess up now, because I have a short attention span and I don’t want to keep pretending to listen to you. Besides, maybe you can feel my abs, you obviously don’t get a body like this around here much after all, might as well as take advantage of it before I’m back in SCW winning real titles.
He takes his hand away from Susie’s mouth while she just stands there, crouching slightly like she wants to urinate, unsure of what she’s being accused of. Her answers strike her as very hard to come by as Calvan slides the back of his fingers down both sides of his six pack.
Susie: I don’t know how to res…
Calvan: Oh whatever your name is with the kind of bumpy ass, I hoped we didn’t have to play this game, but your making things more challenging than winning the World title around here. Meaning that totally controlling you like a neat little nascar those people with overbites drive, people like here in Kentucky, is simple. But I’ll spell it out to you sense none of the viewers can read between the lines or understand a lot of smart words without grunts between them. But I can kind of understand because my body being here is really distracting. Now shut up and stop denying that you were so checking out my ass from across the hall for a good twenty minutes.
Greene crosses his arms and gives Susie a very serious glare, leaving the young woman shell shocked, completely unable to think up a single retort to defend herself.
Susie: Actually I was just waiting to interview Icarus Strange, I really didn’t even notice you were there.
The confidence momentarily vanishes from the face of a man so good and so natural at his craft that a video game taught him everything about wrestling he knows, and surely some other life morals.
Calvan: Really? Because there was a good 10 minutes where I was bent over lacing my boot.
Calvan bends forward to get a better view of Susie’s face, surely she had to be lying, who wouldn’t take the opportunity to see something like that?
Moore: Um, no, I really didn’t see it.
Greene leans backs and takes a deep breath, almost feeling pity for the hapless young woman.
Calvan: I almost feel sorry for you miserable skanks, you’ve only ever seen men with flabby guts, and giant man boobies you ache to squeeze, your not use to true beauty. I feel so sorry for you in fact, I’ll give you one last chance to observe perfection while I reach down to pick up this penny.
Not even taking into account rather she wants to see it or not, Calvan bends down slowly to pick up the change, leaving Susie standing behind him with no idea what she should do. She looks far away from Greene’s posterior into the rafters, fumbling the mic around in her grips. After a moment Greene stands up with the penny in his hand, flicking it into the air with his thumb and sticking his palm out to catch it. The penny never comes down where it was intended to, flying off to God only knows what destination. Greene plays it off smooth though, kicking his hair back and running his hand through it to surely distract Susie.
Greene: You better have got that on a highlight reel. Well, this has been really unbearable, so I’m going to end your obsession with my ass right now. Plus it embarrasses me the more that my face is associated with your show. I know I’m a guaranteed ratings grabber, but the last thing I want to do is steal the viewers away from SCW who only watched that show because of me, thus helping this place out anymore than I already have. I just wanted to tell you to vote for Calvan, to put sexy into the white house. My teeth are way more stunning than Bush’s…
He removes a pamphlet from his belt line and stuffs it right between Susie’s cleavage, causing it to stand up straight as it protrudes from her breasts.
Calvan: And I also wanted to tell you that I will no longer allow myself to be interviewed by perverts like you. I’ll be bringing in a real backstage interviewer, one with the type of sex appeal you wouldn’t find in your 99 cent porn discount box at your inner city Rated X distributors. So please, stop staring at my ass and stop wishing you were one of the lucky few who could touch it. Your nowhere near sexy enough, and your not one of my personal groomers, so stay away from my ass, or I’ll make you take a picture. A picture you’ll have to pay for, and one I’ll charge you more to sign. Your time at looking at pure sexy is over, you’ll only see me on like those cable news shows entering the white house and making it truly funky from now on. My own interviewer will be here next week, because all this Kentucky bluegrass makes her sick, one truly skilled in the art of interviewing Calvan Greene.
Calvan turns and spits at the IWC logo before placing his palm over Susie’s face, shoving her backwards and passing her by. She watches him with very conflicted eyes, which slowly lower out of sheer wonder.
CHAPEL © VS. ROBIN BROOKS
Mayne: Calvan just proved why it’s twice the pleasure to see him again here tonight. I’m so voting for him as the next president of the United States, fuck Hilary Clinton, which I’m sure Calvan would do if it meant the best for us all.
Douglas: Stop singing Calvan’s praises already, my head can’t tolerate it anymore.
Lindsey Lohan’s “Rumor” hits the PA system while Robin Brooks strolls through the curtains and onto the stage, fireworks going off all around her. She doesn’t seem to care about them though while tucking her hair behind her ear and continuing timidly towards the ring. She obviously doesn’t want any part of this match as the Black Widow rolls under the cables to the inside of the ring, standing up and lifting her arm up high into the air to a huge celebration from the fans. The crowd finally seems to have forgiven her for her transgressions at Born Again, which instills her with a little more confidence.
Douglas: Although not quite her jovial self, Robin Brooks actually appears less fearful than I thought she would be going into a match against Chapel tonight, and in just a few short weeks battling Psycho at Breathless. Not to mention how she’s still feeling the effects of two weeks worth of heinous assaults.
Mayne: If this woman wants a paycheck, because believe me Hurse damn sure ain’t going to support her broke ass, she’s got to do what she’s got to do, and that’s wrestle Chapel here tonight. She has no reason to be upset about this match, she’s fighting for a championship, she should be happy.
Douglas: Yes, but she’s fighting in a match against a man who absolutely brutalized her several times in the past.
Mayne: You just made this match sound so much more appealing.
Robin is still tentative while hanging back in the corner, breathing hard in preparation for her match, trying to get all there mentally. The lights go dim and suddenly red lights begin to flash and light the staging area. The speakers throughout the arena come to life and the scream of ‘REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH!!!’ is heard as “Personal Jesus” by Marilyn Manson begins to play as fire rises around the entranceway. A massive form is seen shrouded in darkness standing behind the flames. As the song hits the hard, echoing chorus for the first time, Chapel walks through the fire and out to the aisle. The massive zealot walks to the ring, his head covered in a black hood and a black trench coat covering his body, the Cartel Championship wrapped around his waist. He walks up to the side of the ring and stands outside the ropes. The hardcore titan steps into the ring and stands in the center. He slowly removes his coat and tosses it to the side and finally rips off his hood and tosses that to the side as well, revealing his black and white War Angel shirt. 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. Robin is shaking her head, not liking the sight of him whatsoever, very tentative to lock up with the King of Monsters.
Mayne: Oh my, for once I actually enjoy seeing that demonic glint in Chapel’s eyes. I won’t at Breathless when he’s facing Hurse for the World Heavyweight title, but I am here tonight.
Douglas: I’d be more worried for Robin if I didn’t know how talented she is, she’s come out of stickier situations than this before.
The Black Widow stands timidly across from the War Angel who stares sternly in her direction, showing little to no emotion whatsoever. There is something twisted beneath his eyes though, a disturbing gaze that makes the challenger for the Cartel title increasingly uncomfortable. Finally the bell sounds in the background, the Black Widow making her way around Chapel, who watches her slowly pass him by with fire in his eyes. Suddenly he steps towards her, causing Robin to duck out between the ropes, standing on the apron with a timid look on her face, recalling everything that the War Angel has done to her in the past. The War Angel grins slightly while backing to the center of the ring and bending forward, motioning for her to bring it, leaving his head entirely exposed for her. He crosses his hands behind his back, setting himself up for the side headlock submission. An apprehensive Black Widow gazes at him then takes a deep breath, sliding into the ring once more. She tentatively approaches Chapel, who is still hunched forward, looking prepared to get locked in the side headlock. With a heaving chest caused from deep breath, Robin begins to turn her side in Chapel’s direction to apply the side headlock submission when she steps back, delivering a hard kick directly to the back of the War Angel’s thigh. A groan comes from the Cartel Champion who begins to hop on one foot, reaching for his leg, Robin stepping up behind him and delivering another scintillating kick that welts up the thigh. Another groan comes from Chapel, who turns towards Robin, receiving a spinning back kick to the gut, doubling him over. He grasps at his mid-section as the Black Widow backs up then charges forward into a hard running upward kick directly to the chest of the champion. This last shot causes the King of Monsters to stand up and stagger backwards into the turnbuckle, falling against it for support.
Douglas: Robin surprisingly firing away at Chapel with a series of vicious kicks.
Mayne: Chapel thought he was suckering Robin into a side headlock, but she wasn’t going to fall into his trap.
Robin comes rushing right at Chapel, jumping into the air and burying her feet into the War Angel’s stomach, wrapping her hands around the back of his head for a money toss. Chapel doesn’t come out of the corner though, he places his hands to Robin’s ribs and hoists Brooks into the air, charging forward and throwing her high, high, high up towards the sky then coming crashing back down face first into the ring. Robin bounces from the canvas with a hard thud, getting to her elbows and knees with a look of agony draped over her features. A flustered War Angel gets a running start before lobbing his boot right to the side of the Black Widow’s face, knocking her over onto her spine as a result. Chapel then steps back and lifts his leg into the air before dropping it right across the throat of the Black Widow. Robin’s body kicks up into the air after the collision before Chapel turns over onto his knees, then takes her by the hair, holding her head up off the canvas. He throws a quick punch downward into the Black Widow’s face, followed by another shot to her features. He seems to be enjoying himself as he methodically wears down his lovely opponent, a poor individual thrust into this equation. Nevertheless Chapel continues to brutalize her as much as possible, rising to his feet and taking her by the hair in the process. He forces her over onto her knees then drags her up to her feet before backing the Black Widow into one of the corners, still gripping hold of her long locks. A disturbing smirk overcomes his face as he steps out of the corner then throws Robin once again high into the air. She catches tremendous height with the beil before coming down spine first directly into the canvas.
A groan of agony comes from Robin, who turns onto her knees, reaching for her spine but trying to force herself up to her feet nevertheless. Just as he gets up though, the War Angel charges straight at her, delivering a hard lariat right to her throat. The impact sends Robin into a corkscrew before she crashes to the canvas onto her spine. The collision almost knocked her head from her shoulders as she rolls across the ring, trying to create some space between herself and the War Angel who is physically dominating her at this point. He follows her slowly as the Black Widow takes hold of the cables, using them to force herself to her feet when Chapel steps up behind her, grabbing hold of her belt line. The angry Cartel Champion pulls Robin back into a forearm right into her lower spine. The collision causes her to scream out in pain, falling to her knees then tumbling throat first against the second cable. She leans on it for support before Chapel steps up behind her, burying his knee into her upper back and the back of her head. He forces her throat downward into the middle cable, choking her violently as the official steps in, starting a five count. He reaches four before Chapel breaks away from Robin then reaches down, grabbing hold of her legs, using them to turn the Black Widow around onto her posterior. An intense Chapel holds onto her ankles and tries to drag her back to the center of the ring but Robin reaches up, wrapping her hands around the top rope, keeping this from happening. Chapel keeps dragging on her ankles, but Robin grips the top rope as tightly as she possibly can to prevent being left to the War Angel’s mercy.
Finally, with one last tug he pulls Robin into the air only for her to go into a back flip where she lands directly on her feet in front of the infuriated War Angel. Chapel charges forward with a lariat that Brooks ducks under, charging forth across the ring. She bounces off the opposite cables and comes back in at Chapel who turns to meet her just in time for Robin to jump into the air, wrapping her legs around his head. She drags him around and then snaps off into the head scissors, Chapel being flipped forward as a result. He’s taken off of his feet and sent rolling under the ropes to the outside of the ring, where he lands on his feet staggering in reverse.
Douglas: What quick thinking by Brooks going to that head scissors take down, using her great speed to her advantage against this much larger, much more physical opponent.
Mayne: She’s got to say allusive but abusive. Jesus, did I just say that?
Chapel is on the outside mats taking a deep breath, sighing in outrage while locking his eyes on Brooks in the ring, that’s when a diabolical smile settles over his face. He begins to nod his head while tilting to get a good view of an increasingly distressed Robin’s features.
Chapel: Let’s have some fun.
The mere mention of this causes Robin to swallow deeply and Chapel to grin even wider as he now charges right at the ring, sliding in under the ropes. By the look in his eyes Robin realizes it be best to create some space between them, therefore she drops down and slides under the ropes to the outside of the ring. Chapel follows her though, entering, then exiting it in hot pursuit as he lands on the mats outside of the ring. As soon as his feet hit the mats though he looks up at Robin who has gotten onto the apron, rushing across it and diving off as she lands right on top of Chapel’s shoulders. She then drops back, delivering a huge hurricarana that throws Chapel over backwards crashing hard onto the mats across his back. He turns onto his elbows and knees while reaching for his spine before Robin steps in, delivering a devastating kick directly to his sternum. Chapel tries to balance himself between his knees before Robin hits another hard kick right to his chest. Again the War Angel is almost knocked down to the mats, yet he remains in a kneeling position, taking Robin’s kicks like a true champion. That’s before the Black Widow grabs the back of her opponent’s head, the challenger delivering a fierce, vicious upward shin kick right into his face. This blow finally causes Chapel to become disorientated, falling side first against the apron for support, using it as a crutch to begin forcing himself up to his feet. While rising Chapel takes another fierce kick directly to the chest, Robin stepping to his side and delivering another vicious shot to his stomach this time. The blows cause the Champion to be doubled over, looking to be in a great of pain as Robin steps back then charges right at him. She goes into a headstand and reaches up with her legs, wrapping them around the neck of the King of Monsters who’s eyes widen with disbelief. That’s before he grits his teeth and reaches down, wrapping his arms around Robin’s waist, keeping himself from being hit with a leg scissors take down. Instead he hoists her up into the air and onto his shoulders into a powerbomb position before falling backwards, dragging Brooks down face first with force right into the apron. The crowd reacts with disbelief over the sheer impact of the Black Widow’s face with that hard portion of the ring.
Mayne: Hahahahaha, oh hahahahaha, ah hahahaha, that was hysterical!
Douglas: I beg to differ, that was quite the disturbing impact of Robin’s face with that ring apron, she looks dead on her feet.
Billy: Well then, now she’s behaving just like she does in the bedroom, cold and motionless. Hahahaha, oh how I wish I had a mother.
Groans are still escalating from the fans while Robin staggers around, holding her forehead after that collision, yet she backs right into Chapel. He turns her around and hoists her into the air under his arm before dropping Brooks down spine first onto the hard outside mats with the side slam, causing another gasp to come from the sold out audience. Their reaction is followed by a scream of agony from Robin who turns away from the King of Monsters, placing her hand over her kidney area. She tries to fight through the pain though while Chapel takes her by the hair and forces her up to her feet then places his hands to the chest and stomach of the challenger. He hoists Robin up into the air with a gorilla press then releases her, allowing her to tumble face first into the apron once again with another devastating thud. The sound of the impact echoes throughout the arena while Robin stands up straight, the Black Widow staggering around in a state of absolute disarray. Yet somehow she’s able to balance herself as Chapel backs into the apron then charges away from it with a lariat directed right at her head. Just in time Brooks ducks the lariat and stumbles quickly into the apron, jumping up onto it almost instinctively. Chapel turns to face her and comes rushing in before the Black Widow moonsaults over top of him, landing on his feet behind the War Angel’s back until the Champion twists his body, rolling onto the apron. His back hits the cables, sending him ricocheting off and twisting as he lands on his feet on the mats then turning into a quick lariat at Robin who came charging in at him. The fans react with cheers at the sight of Chapel’s rebound lariat that once again almost takes Brooks’ head off.
A pain ridden, already tired Robin turns onto her knees, reaching for her throat in the process while Chapel gets to his feet in front of her, taking her by the hair. He rolls her onto the apron then gets onto it himself as the official stops the ten count he was making in order to disqualify either one of them. A very tired, agonizing Robin tries to force herself to her feet, grabbing hold of the cables to assist her tired, battered body while Chapel climbs up behind her. He gets his feet beneath him, bends forward and buries his shoulder to the Black Widow’s spine, looking around at the fans, who all know fully well what he’s going for. Chapel lifts up on her to deliver the back drop suplex onto the apron only for Robin to reach out with her arm, wrapping it around the top cable. She keeps herself from being lifted then begins to deliver repeated elbow strikes to the back of Chapel’s head, beginning to weaken and disorientate the Champion who drops Robin onto her feet. He takes a step back when Robin mule kicks in reverse, connecting with a shot right to Chapel’s face, causing him to stand up straight now. He stumbles across the mats in reverse as Robin turns towards him, rushing at her much bigger opponent then jumping high into the air. She lands right on his shoulders, again going for a hurricarana this time off the apron, yet Chapel keeps his feet beneath him. The irate Champion refuses to be pulled over however, causing Brooks to drop down out of the hurricarana position and hit the apron both face and chest first. She bounces off of it, popping up onto her knees in front of Chapel who held onto the cables to keep himself from being hit with the hurricarana. Again on instinct alone the Black Widow begins to force her exhausted frame upward as Chapel meets her with a kick to the gut, then locks on a front chancery, hoisting Brooks up into the air. The crowd screams just as loudly as Brooks as she’s vertical suplexed onto the apron spine first. The incredible impact causes her to sit up with a very groggy expression overcoming her face. She appears literally dead yet still conscious, if such a possibility exists while sitting on the apron for several moments with lifeless wide open eyes.
Douglas: A vertical suplex onto the apron!! My God Robin may have just been killed with that maneuver. I don’t know what was worse, taking the back drop or the vertical suplex on that hard apron.
Mayne: Both are brutal, and equally as amusing.
A writhing Robin rolls under the ropes to the inside of the ring while clutching at her spine in incredible pain. Chapel slides in after her with a disgruntled expression on his face then crawls into the cover, hooking her leg at his own good time.
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Chapel suddenly rises to his knees, taking hold of Brooks’ hair, sitting her up on the canvas and then shaking his head in the direction of the official. Referee Wright closes his eyes, realizing what Chapel has in store for this poor young woman, refusing to end the match so that he can finish her off once and for all. Some fans boo, some fans cheer as they realize further punishment is going to be inflicted on Brooks, who is already barely breathing at this point. Chapel forces Robin up to her feet, forced to drag her almost dead weight to a standing base then switching behind her back. He buries his shoulders into her spine then hoists her up into the air in a torture rack before dropping to his posterior, connecting with the Cardinal Sin (Torture Rack Backbreaker). The collision causes Robin to bounce up high into the air from Chapel’s shoulders before tumbling to the canvas behind him. She lays sprawled out on her side, her eyes fluttering, trying to stay open but no other motion is displayed from her, with the exception of a quivering hand that finds its way over her kidneys. Chapel leans back nonchalantly into the cover, hooking Robin’s leg in the process with a look of apathy on his face.
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Chapel sits up though, breaking the pinfall attempt as a shaky smile comes to his face. The referee jumps in front of him, yelling into his features, demanding that he stop this until Chapel informs him he can go fornicate within himself, exactly with those words. Chapel turns towards Brooks and takes hold of her hair, holding up on her head then delivering a hard right hand into her face, followed by another strike to her forehead. He stands up slowly and then steps over Brooks, reaching down as he wraps his hands around her throat, bending down to speak into the X-Class Champion’s face.
Chapel: Tell your boyfriend I said hi.
Chapel now lifts Robin up off the canvas from her back with a double handed choke then releases her in mid-air so that the Black Widow lands on his shoulders. She’s only there for a moment until Chapel delivers a thunderous powerbomb, dragging her body down to the canvas with tremendous force. Brooks crashes violently into the ring, flipping over backwards as her body reacts to the collision like a spring. She lands on her chest and stomach, not moving an inch, every portion of her body being limp as the War Angel places his fists to his hips. He then steps forward, placing his foot to the back of Robin’s head while glaring around at the crowd.
Chapel: Do you see this Hurse!?! Do you see this you stupid son of a bitch!?! What I do to her, is what I’m going to do to you. Only you can stop this! Take her place you son of a bitch!
No response, no answer to his demands comes from anywhere in the building causing Chapel’s face to become all that more intense.
REAR WINDOW
The reaction from the fans is still mixed over what is happening in the ring as the Cartel title bout between Chapel and Robin continues, and the same type of confusion seems to have befallen Hurse. The show briefly switches to the backseat of the bullet proof limo once again where the World Heavyweight Champion is located in concern. Unlike the person seated beside him, Desolation, who is leaning back against his seat with his arms stretched out to his sides, completely carefree, not worried about what’s happening to Robin whatsoever. He still seems satisfied whit himself by what he did to Jon Rich and Roxas Knoxx earlier in the evening. His attitude is completely unlike Hurse’s, who’s eyes are glued to the small television in the limo, unable to so much as even blink the longer this match goes on. His shaking hand reaches up, embracing the World title belt over his shoulder and pulling it a little closer to himself for added security.
BACK TO THE ACTION
Chapel seems to be growing increasingly upset with the lack of Hurse’s arrival, finally causing him to sigh and turn towards Robin once more. He grabs her by the hair, forcing her up to her feet then scooping her up onto his shoulder. With Brooks completely exposed on his shoulder the War Angel charges forward, dragging the Black Widow down into a vicious running powerslam. The Black Widow’s body strikes the canvas with force, causing her to drop over onto her side once more. After delivering the powerful move Chapel rises to his knees, glaring at the entry way, expecting to see Hurse but instead only spotting the curtains blowing in the wind.
Mayne: I hope Chapel honestly doesn’t expect Hurse to come out here…
Douglas: Exactly, because he’s an absolute pussy, hiding in his limo backstage, too cowardly to even come to the aid of the woman he’s suppose to love.
Mayne: Oh come on, Robin knew what she was doing going into this match, she’s never needed men to help her win matches before, she shouldn’t need them now.
Douglas: This is different, much different, she’s never had a man trying to absolutely destroy her in the ring tonight to send messages to those she cares about.
Billy: Hahahaha, that’s the story of Robin’s life, did you not watch a single match she was involved in while in that relationship with Killjoy?
Rather doing it out of anger or pleasure, the crowd is reacting to the action in the ring, Chapel once again not going for the pinfall. He rolls the Black Widow to her knees then slaps his hand about her throat, dragging her up to her feet before delivering a swift kick directly to Robin’s gut. The impact doubles her over and Chapel drags her head between his legs, glaring towards the entry way, hoping that Hurse will grow the testicles to come out and face him. He begins to shake his head then hoists Brooks up into the air, allowing her to slide down his back while catching hold of her biceps. His eyes are permanently locked on the entry way, fuming in outrage over the lack of the Champion’s arrival.
Chapel: This is on your head Hurse!
Chapel is about to deliver the Apocalypse when Robin frees her arms from the crucifix position and then slides down his back, dropping onto her feet behind him. Robin turns quickly and reaches out, hooking one of Chapel’s arms then jumping into the air, wrapping her legs around the other shoulder. She is setting up for the crucifix pin before Chapel charges backwards, driving her spine first into the turnbuckle post, Robin screaming in pain. The Black Widow is forced to release his arms and fall over top the turnbuckle, lying across the top of it spine first, completely sprawled out. Chapel now turns towards her and begins to step up the turnbuckle, getting to the second rope while lifting Robin off the corner, spreading her out over his chest. The War Angel seems intent on hitting a super fall away slam, just as he lifts her into the air Robin twists around with her body, landing on top of Chapel’s shoulders. She then pushes herself over Chapel’s head and bends her own noggin forward, sliding down his back, catching him around the waist. To everyone’s surprise Chapel is dragged off the turnbuckle with a sunset flip powerbomb, driving his massive body spine first hard into the canvas as Robin lands on her seat, burying her shoulders into the back of his legs for the pin.
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Chapel gets his shoulder off the canvas to a huge eruption from the crowd, some booing, some cheering as Brooks falls spine first against the turnbuckle. She places her hands over her face, realizing that she did not just earn the pinfall over the man who has been brutalizing her throughout this contest. She pulls herself up the turnbuckle in reverse, getting to her feet while almost falling over several times, Chapel attempting to force himself to his feet as well. He gets to a single knee when the Black Widow comes in, lobbing a punch into the side of his face, followed by a second strike. Chapel reaches out and places his hands to her ribs though, shoving her backwards right into the turnbuckle with his brute strength. Robin hits the corner hard spine first, her arms falling over the ropes while Chapel stands and then comes charging in, bending forward. Suddenly Brooks pulls herself up onto the turnbuckle backwards, getting her feet beneath her on the second rope then jumping over top of Chapel’s head as he comes rushing in. She bends her head forward and rolls across the canvas right onto her feet, Chapel turning to face her and then coming charging back in with a big boot lobbed at her face. This time Robin drops down into a baseball slide under his leg then jumps to her feet, charging forward and dropkicking the back of Chapel’s other leg, the one that was keeping him upright. The shot knocks Chapel from his feet and to his back as Brooks gets up then steps beside him with her spine facing him. She jumps into the air with a standing moonsault but then twists around into a corkscrew splash right on top of the War Angel, lying on top of the Champion for the pin.
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The War Angel kicks out yet again to a huge reaction from the sold out crowd. Robin turns onto her side, holding her back with sweat racing down her pain ridden, twisted features.
Douglas: Robin answering back in this intense Cartel title match, almost having a victory here a few times with a big sunset flip powerbomb and now that standing twisting corkscrew moonsault.
Mayne: The chances of a hundred pound woman beating a close to three hundred pound raving lunatic are about as good as me winning the Kentucky Derby riding on top of AWOL’s shoulders. Seeing as he’s the closest thing to a mule we have in the IWC.
Dan: Nah, I can think of at least one person with a lot more similarities to a jackass.
The Black Widow has risen to her feet reaching for her spine then dropping to her knees once again. In a very tired state the X-Class Champ rises to her feet then turns towards the War Angel, who is already forcing himself to his feet. Right as he gets one knee beneath him the challenger charges in, stepping up him and delivering a hard enzugari kick to the back of his head. The sound of the impact echoes throughout the arena and causes Chapel to land on his fists, still not going down to the canvas just yet. That’s before Robin gets to her feet and in a quick burst of speed charges into the cables in front of him, bouncing off the ropes then coming back in with a huge basement dropkick directly to the face of the Champion. The sound of the collision echoes throughout the arena and knocks Chapel from all fours onto his back, the crowd reeling over just how stiff of a shot that last kick proved to be. Chapel is now laid out but Robin doesn’t stop there, scurrying to her feet then charging into the cables at his side, jumping onto the middle rope to spring off into a moonsault before twisting it into a senton bomb across the War Angel’s chest. Everyone in the arena screams over that last high flying move from Brooks, who turns around, crawling into the cover on the Champion quickly once again.
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No, Chapel still has the strength to gorilla press Robin off of him, causing her to land on top of official Wright. The look on Robin’s face is one of absolute astonishment, unable to believe that she was incapable of putting the War Angel away once again. Even more shocking is the fact that Chapel is rolling to his elbows and knees, trying to force himself to his feet. As soon as he starts to stand up though Robin steps towards him, delivering a hard shin kick directly to the side of his face. Chapel’s neck is almost snapped as his head bends over sideways, yet the Champ remains on his knees, refusing to go down. A speechless Robin spins around, charging into the cables in front of Chapel and jumping onto the second rope once more, using her speed and agility to her advantage. Again she springs off the ropes, spinning around in mid-air and catching Chapel around the neck as he stands up. The Black Widow pulls him around for a springboard tornado DDT before Chapel places his hands to her gut, shoving her off, sending her flying across the ring but landing on her feet in front of him. Even though her DDT attempt was countered she has the grace to land on her feet, looking up in time to spot Chapel who comes barreling in with another devastating lariat at her throat. She drops down into a forward roll, missing the clothesline then getting to her feet before jumping into the air, landing on the second rope behind him. Robin springs off backwards into a moonsault, flying through the air when Chapel turns to face her right in time for the Black Widow to land on his shoulder. Chapel keeps his feet planted to the canvas though and wraps his arms around Robin’s waist, dropping to his posterior, connecting with a sit-down piledriver on the Black Widow from off his shoulder. The X-Class Champ bounces up high into the air, twisting then collapsing to the canvas at his side while he remains seated on the ring with a far off, distant glare in his eyes.
Douglas: Robin trying to hit Chapel with all that high risk, high flying offense but Chapel consistently countering and now catching her with the Samoan driver. The Champion may have her finished off but I bet he’s wishing he would have pinned her earlier instead of toying around with this young, yet competitive woman.
Mayne: The morale of the story is that Chapel has the win here nevertheless, no matter how many comebacks Robin tries to put up against him.
Chapel turns towards Brooks who is still rolling across the canvas holding the top of her head in horrific pain. In an agitated, tired state the Cartel Champion makes his way towards the Black Widow who has forced herself to her elbows and knees. She doesn’t stay in this position long though before Chapel storms in and kicks her viciously to the ribs, sending her flying into the air then spilling through the ropes onto the apron. She lies back first across the apron still holding her ribs while Chapel leans against the cables for support, sweating profusely, starting to feel the physical wear and tear of this fast paced brawl for the title as well. He reaches through the cables and grabs hold of the Black Widow’s hair, dragging her up to her feet slowly, standing her up on the apron. The War Angel slides through the cables and stands in front of Robin before dragging her forward into his shoulders. He stands up straight and switches her around so that he’s holding her in a torture rack, preparing to hit the Cardinal Sin on the apron as the fans watch on excitedly. Just as he’s about to finish her off Robin begins to twist with her body and now rolls off his shoulders, falling over the cables back into the ring. The agitated Champion spins to face her as Brooks drops down into a baseball slide dropkick through his legs, landing on her feet behind the War Angel who remains standing on the apron. She grabs hold of Chapel’s ankles, lifting up on them and costing him to collapse off the apron, falling face first into it. He bounces off hard, staggering in reverse as Brooks jumps onto the apron in front of him before springing up onto the second cable. She flies off it then twists in mid-air, coming down on top of the King of the Monsters with a huge springboard crossbody that knocks them both down to the mats with a hard thud.
Mayne: What the hell is this!?! Even though I don’t like you Chapel, I still want to slap you in the face for getting your ass handed to you by the Black Widow. Get back up, stop letting her hit you with all this aerial offense. For the love of God you’re a man, you have a penis, I think, you shouldn’t be getting beat on by a woman.
Douglas: This match started out rather one sided, but Robin has found the kink in Chapel’s armor perhaps, delivering high flying move after high flying move that repeatedly takes down the Cartel title holder. We could be close to a new champion here Billy, if this keeps up. If there’s anyone who can take that Cartel title off of Chapel it would the woman he’s faced many times in the past, in all championship matches.
The fans are still going nuts as Chapel tries to force himself to his feet, Robin stepping towards him delivering repeated kicks to his gut. Each blow causes the War Angel to be bent forward while the Black Widow screams, lobbing forearm strikes into the side of his face repeatedly. All the animosity that has brewed between them over the years seems to be flooding back to her mind with each blow to the cranium of the War Angel. Chapel backs into the apron and turns, about to crawl into the ring. He grabs the ropes as he gets to his knees on the apron, Robin stepping to his side, trying to push him through the cables into the squared circle yet unable to muster the strength to do it, plus Chapel is fighting it. He tries to keep himself on the apron while Robin seemingly gives up, rolling onto it in front of him. She stands up then charges forward across the apron, jumping into the air with a shinning wizard right to the side of Chapel’s face. The fans react with a thunderous ovation at the sight of this move, which knocks Chapel through a loop, the Champion turning as he spills through the cables into the ring. He rolls across the canvas onto his elbows and knees, reaching for his cranium after that last kick as Brooks slips through the ropes, following him in closely.
She steps towards Chapel and delivers a brutally stiff upward kick right into his face. The stiff shot echoes throughout the arena and causes Chapel to stand up straight, staggering around badly. That’s when Robin rushes into the cables in front of him, bouncing off and coming back in before she launches herself at him, twisting around so that her back is facing the champion. Her legs wrap around his mid-section now before she drops forward, placing her hands to the canvas then shoving herself upwards. She goes into a wheelbarrow move, reaching out with her arm and wrapping it around Chapel’s neck for the bulldog. That’s before Chapel reaches up, pushing her arm off his neck and hooking it, hooking up the other one as well. The fans are stunned as Chapel now drops forward, countering her attempted wheelbarrow bulldog into the Crucifier. Robin’s face is driven with force into the canvas as the War Angel drops to his seat, a very menacing expression on his face. The Black Widow rolls onto her back as an exhausted Chapel crawls into the cover on her, having the pin well within his grasp.
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3!
The entire arena burst into screams and cheers as Chapel sits up to celebrate his victory only to learn that Robin kicked out.
Dan: Brooks kicked out, the Black Widow got her shoulder up with just a few short moments to spare!
Mayne: Chapel had the victory there, he had to have gotten the win with that amazing, outstanding counter.
Douglas: Um, he didn’t, because Robin just got her shoulder up.
Billy: It was trick photography, they did something with the lighting to make it look like she kicked out.
Dan: Okay, first of all, we’re airing live, and secondly, we’re here in person.
A flustered War Angel runs his hands though his sweat soaked hair, breathing heavily before he forces himself up to his feet, approaching Robin slowly as she is still struggling valiantly to force herself to her feet. Before she can properly stand up Chapel rushes into the cables behind her, bouncing off the ropes then coming back in with a northern lariat right to the back of the Black Widow’s head. It sends her into a forward flip, crashing onto her back and now completely laid out by the impact. The War Angel has fallen to his elbows and knees beside her, turning and crawling into the cover on the X-Class Champion once more, confident that last move was enough to properly finish off her offensive flurry.
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Again Brooks shoots her shoulder from the canvas, causing Chapel to rise to his knees, sliding his hands over his bald, sweating scalp in disbelief. After taking a moment to collect himself the Cartel Champion forces himself to his feet and turns to face one of the corners. He now slits his thumb across his throat to a loud reaction from the fans then takes hold of Robin’s hair, dragging her up to her feet while backing towards the corner. The fans are standing up, realizing they’re moments from witnessing something truly vicious as Chapel climbs the corner, sitting himself on the top rope and pulling Brooks’ head under his seat, perhaps planning to powerbomb her from the highest point of the turnbuckle.
Mayne: Say goodnight to the princess, Dan, because Chapel is about to demolish her with whatever this top rope move is going to be.
Douglas: I’m afraid the War Angel may finally have Brooks’ number in this match even after Robin has come back again and again in this match and truly shown the heart of a champion.
Billy: So what your saying is that she’s got a heart of gold? Hahahaha, wait, that really wasn’t funny at all.
Dan: I’m surprised your just now realizing this.
Chapel reaches down and wraps his arms around Brooks’ waist, dragging her up to the second rope in a powerbomb position while the referee shouts at him, demanding he stop this. He doesn’t listen and lifts Brooks up into the air onto his shoulders, but as she’s hoisted the back of her foot strikes the eyes of the referee, causing him to turn away covering his face in pain. She ends up seated on Chapel’s shoulders with the ref turned away, holding his eyes. That’s when out of nowhere, Hurse in his cheesy disguise jumps onto the apron behind Chapel with the Louisville slugger still in his palm, striking the King of Monsters in the back of his skull with it. The fans react with shock and dismay at the sight of this while the ever opportunistic World Champion drops off the apron, backing away from the ring with a smirk on his face. The War Angel is knocked through a loop before Robin drops back, pulling Chapel off the corner with a hurricarana. The move sends Chapel flying through the air and crashing hard to the outside mats, Brooks landing on her elbows and knees in a very pain stricken condition, unknowing she was just given an assist from the Champion. Hurse jumps over the barricade and backs through the fans, threatening them with his baseball bat as he scurries through them.
Mayne: Who was that rather attractive random Eric Estrada looking fan?
Douglas: Oh come on, Hurse jumping the barricade and bashing Chapel over the back of the head with a baseball bat, putting Robin Brooks right back in this match for the Cartel Championship.
Billy: That was Hurse, he truly is a master of disguise.
The Champion is still forcing his way through the fans, not even looking back to see how this match turns out as Chapel lies on the canvas absolutely motionless, Robin crawling towards him quickly. She drops down on top of the Cartel Champion, hooking his leg to a huge mixed reaction from the fans. The referee takes his hand away from his eye and drops down to make the count.
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3!
The crowd is shocked before they spot Chapel’s arm lunging from the ring at the last possible moment. Robin rolls onto her seat, appearing absolutely stunned that she just didn’t get the victory with her brilliant counter, still unaware that Hurse just assisted her.
Mayne: And now Chapel is the one kicking out surprisingly! What a crazy title match we’re witnessing here.
Douglas: Not even Hurse’s interference was enough to put Chapel away, this man just refuses to be defeated. In fact, I don’t think a single person has pinned him since his return at Paranoia IV.
The War Angel is lying on his side with wide open eyes while Robin slides her hands into her hair, trying to believe that he just kicked out of her top rope hurricarana. She rises to her feet now and then steps over the King of Monsters, making her way towards the turnbuckle for what is sure to be her Flying Star finishing maneuver. The fans are still going nuts as Brooks climbs up the corner slowly, getting to the second rope and trying to balance herself, her head still clearly bothering her after the onslaught she’s taken in this contest thus far. The referee has turned to check on Chapel’s condition while he still lies there barely moving and gripping at the back of his skull in immense pain. As the Black Widow gets to the top rope a figure jumps onto the apron in front of her with a steel chair in his hands. The crowd reacts with a loud response at the sight of Psycho, who swings the chair right into the top of Robin’s head. She didn’t even have time to look up and see it coming as she now crashes down to the canvas, Psycho throwing the chair away before dropping down onto the outside mats. He has a very intense expression on his face yet backs up the ramp, not wanting to get Chapel disqualified in this unbelievable title match.
Douglas: And turnabout is fair play, Robin about to go up top and possibly finish Chapel off before she’s struck right between the eyes with a solid steel chair by Psycho.
Mayne: Could there possibly be any more interference in this match?
Chapel has gotten to his knees, wobbling between them as he grips at the back of his neck, still feeling the effects of that baseball bat shot. In a dazed frustrated state he crawls towards Robin, unsure of how she got knocked out and the referee seemingly asking himself the same question, with no sight of Psycho at ringside. Nevertheless Chapel drops down, hooking her leg with the ref making the count, the fans chanting along with each slap of the canvas.
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3!
The entire arena explodes into cheers at the sight of Brooks shooting her shoulder from the canvas at the last possible second. Everyone is jumping up and down, slapping the barricades and stomping their feet at the sight of Robin getting a shoulder up in the nick of time, right before she was defeated. Chapel gets to his seat, taking several deep breaths and shaking his head, unable to believe that he was incapable of finishing her off.
Douglas: And now Robin has kicked out after the interference Billy! This match is insane.
Mayne: These two are really putting it all on the line tonight for that Cartel Championship. It just goes to show the prestige of the belt, although Chapel would claim he uses the gold to clean himself after his morning constitutional, even he has to have some form of respect for the championship and all this competition he’s getting to keep it.
In outrage and exhaustion Chapel forces himself to his feet, taking hold of Robin’s hair, he rolls over onto her knees slowly then forces her to her feet. He steps behind her back and buries his shoulders into her spine, hoisting her into the air with a torture rack. It appears that he’s ready to hit the Cardinal Sin before Brooks suddenly twists her body so that she slides right down his back, wrapping her arms around his waist. A shocked Chapel is taken over backwards into a sunset flip, Robin sitting up and placing her shoulders into the back of his thick thighs.
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Chapel gets his shoulder from the canvas while the crowd screams wildly, realizing that the War Angel was mere seconds from being pinned and losing his title. A distraught Robin rolls over in reverse while Chapel turns to his knees, getting up slowly. Brooks has already risen to a standing base though as she steps in and jumps high into the air, landing right on the War Angel’s shoulders. However, he counters her attempted hurricarana, pushing her thighs off his shoulders and causing her to flip over, landing on her feet in front of him. She is still bent forward as Chapel steps towards her and over her head, tucking it under his seat before wrapping his arms around her waist. Chapel grunts while forcing Robin up into the air and onto his shoulders in a powerbomb position, intent on finishing her off with the Apocalypse perhaps. She counters again though, placing her hands to the top of his head and forcing herself over top his noggin, landing on her feet behind his back. She then reaches in reverse, hooking both of the War Angel’s arms, surprisingly finding the strength to attempt a back slide into the pin. Chapel keeps his feet planted firmly to the canvas though and pulls on his arm, causing Robin to spin and face him. As soon as she turns towards him Chapel takes her by the wrist and pulls her forward into a short arm clothesline. Brooks ducks it and steps behind Chapel’s, hooking his arms and taking his massive frame over with a back slide into the pin amongst a loud ovation from the fans.
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3!
Again the fans find themselves going nuts before they realize that Chapel has shot his shoulders from the canvas, causing them to cheer even louder out of shock. He drops over onto her knees, turning away from Brooks who has risen to her feet, quickly charging in only to get caught against the shoulders of the Cartel Champion. He stands up, lifting Brooks into the air in a fireman’s carry and then going for the Death Valley Driver. He drags Brooks over sideways for the move only for her to flip out of it, landing right on her feet then charging into the cables in front of him. The fans are shocked by the counter as she bounces off the cables and comes back in, jumping high into the air and landing right on Chapel’s shoulders then dropping back into the hurricarana. As they flip through the air Chapel tucks and turns their momentum into a sit out powerbomb with unbelievable force, the fans shocked by the counter and the collision of Brooks body with the ring. He has his shoulder buried into the back of her legs.
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3
A loud ovation goes up from the fans at the sight of Chapel finally defeating Robin, putting all he had in him on the line to achieve this unbelievable victory. The crowd is giving a standing ovation to that last title match that has both individuals absolutely spent.
Douglas: My God, what a counter out of nowhere that finally put Brooks down and out. That was a phenomenal match for the Cartel Championship, and it just goes to show how much Robin has grown as a competitor. She overcame a chair shot to push Chapel to his physical limit.
Mayne: That was a surprisingly good match considered I despise both the individuals involved in it. I even have to give Robin credit for that performance.
Chapel falls onto his back, physically and emotionally spent as sweat pours in buckets from his exhausted, exasperated body. The official steps towards him with the Cartel title, attempting to hand to him only to be pushed away as the belt falls on top of an angry War Angel. He gets up on his side and glares at Robin with shock, clear, unbridled astonishment over just how much it took to finally put her away.
NOT TAKING NO FOR AN ANSWER
General Manager AWOL is seated in his dressing room, leaning back in his dark leather chair with his fingers crossed over one another and placed in front of his mouth. His eyes are shadowed and sunken deeply into his skull as if he’s formulating, or concocting some type of devious plan, all the while watching the events that have unfolded thus far tonight on Riot!, via a small portable, battery operated television that sits on the corner of his desk. Much to his repulsion his eyes are drawn to the events that just transpired in that intense Cartel title match while a glass full of liquor sits on the opposite side of his desk. Suddenly light cuts into the dimly lit dressing room and a loud reaction consisting of cheers cuts through the backstage area at the sight of Jon Rich staggering into the office. AWOL doesn’t even look up to observe him as Rich painfully storms towards his desk, gripping hold of his ribs and still bleeding a little from the corners of his mouth. Falling behind him is a silver haired elderly doctor, part of IWC’s crack medical staff, imploring him to stop, yet Rich refuses to listen.
Doctor: Jon, listen to me, I get paid to give this advice believe it or not, you need to get to a hospital right now.
Jon: Fuck hospitals!
AWOL’s eyebrow lifts as he finally glances up into the face of the N.H.B Champion who slams the side of his fist against the GM’s desk in a rather convoluted manner. The last thing that Rich is worried about is rather he appears cliché or not at this moment, his pain fueling his rage as he leans over the desk to stare deeply into AWOL’s menacing eyes.
AWOL: Jon my lad, I didn’t know you had scheduled an appointment. Oh yeah, everyone just barges into my office nowadays and expects me to solve their problems. So just get on with it already Rich, tell me what you want, and maybe I’ll be considerate enough to give it to you. Of course I’ve never been a very considerate person.
The GM stares smugly and apathetically in Jon’s direction who is fuming and still bleeding from the corner of his mouth, his internal injuries possibly quite severe in nature.
Jon: You know what I want AWOL, you know what I’ve been begging you for for weeks now. You’ve got to give him to me, you’ve got to!
Rich’s fingernails, no matter how tiny they may be, dig into the surface of AWOL’s wooden desk, the GM staring down at his hands then back up into his determined face. A grin comes to the GM’s features based on his sheer amusement.
AWOL: Hmm, I wonder who your talking about? Does this have something to do with that fine, upstanding Desolation gentleman, with the shitty goatee and the husky frame?
Rich: You know damn well who I’m talking about, and you know just how badly I want to get him in the ring. Did you see what he did to Roxas tonight, I want him in that ring, I need him in that ring, and I won’t leave this office until I get him in that ring!
The skin of the N.H.B Champion has transformed into a bright red shade as AWOL acts taken aback, or at least feigns surprise over Rich’s staunch resolve.
AWOL: Well now, who would have thought curb stomping your girlfriend’s pretty little features into a steel chair would get you so worked up. But I suggest if you want her to be the only person removed via ambulance tonight, that you calm down and stop making demands.
Rich can’t possibly comply to the GM’s demands, no matter how threatening his words might be. He just continues to stand there and shake from the pain that courses through his battered, torn mid-section, determined to get his hands on Desolation no matter what. AWOL finally stands up behind his desk to stare down into Rich’s face and add seriousness, weight to his words.
Rich: But since you won’t stop hassling me about wanting Desolation in the ring, and I don’t want to have to look at your face or hear your annoying voice any longer, I’ll give you want you want just this once. But don’t think you’ll ever be able to ask a favor of me again. Since Desolation thinks he has the power to book matches around here, its time I sent him a little message and properly showed him who was in control of the IWC, no matter how certain clusterfucks in the past have turned out. Therefore, at IWC Breathless, it’s going to be Jon Rich vs. Desolation.
The fans react with a loud chorus of cheers, everyone excited by the prospect of seeing that sure to be incredible one on one bout. Jon seems a little more clam and docile, almost falling over and his injuries finally start to get the better of him. He nods and turns to leave before a chuckling AWOL takes him by the wrist, shaking his head.
AWOL: Not so fast my mangled little friend. If I’m willing to give you something, you’ve got to do something in return for me.
Jon apprehensively turns towards AWOL while still holding his possibly busted up ribs.
Jon: It’s not anything sexual is it?
AWOL’s smile fades for a moment before he places one of his fingers to his temples, rubbing at it out of pure annoyance.
AWOL: No. I was going to say you need to show me just how much you actually want this match, and add in a little something to spice it up at the same time. Therefore, if you want Desolation one on one at the next pay-per-view, you’ll have to put your No Holds Barred Championship on the line.
The reaction from the crowd becomes even louder while a trembling Rich finally cracks a grin, not worried at all by the prospect of putting his belt on the line against Desolation at the upcoming pay-per-view.
Rich: Good, great. The only thing better than getting my hands on Desolation, will be getting my hands on him when there are no rules, and there’s nothing to stop me from tearing him apart.
AWOL: Eww, sounds positively grizzly. Well, if that’s all you wanted then get the hell out of here and stop breathing my precious air.
The GM glances towards the elderly doctor while Rich just stares at the floor, shaking both from pain and anger, all the while contemplating what he will do at Breathless when he finally gets his hands on the Dark Man.
AWOL: Doc, see to it that this man is out of my building in the next five minutes and on his way to the hospital.
At the sound of being barred from the building Rich’s eyes shoot upward in the direction of AWOL who immediately begins to shake his head “no.”
AWOL: No, I’m not going to give you the chance to interfere in the tag team tournament match up next and watch you get your ass kicked by Desolation once again. I at least one little part of you left ready to compete at the pay-per-view, if you want Desolation, you’ll leave this building right now.
AWOL motions towards the door as Jon contemplates his response then finally nods his head, not really saying anything.
Jon: I’ll leave, but there’s nothing you can do to stop me from facing Desolation mono-a-mono next week on Riot!
AWOL: That’s just wonderful, now go!
Trembling with rage, the sickly looking Rich turns away from the General Manager, beginning to march out of the dressing room. As Jon vanishes through the entrance to his office AWOL allows himself to relax, sliding into his chair and leaning back looking completely unhappy as usual. He grabs his glass and takes a drink of it before immediately beginning to choke, thrusting the side of his fist against his chest several times. Suddenly he coughs up a penny that lands in the palm of his hand, observing it closely and having no idea where it came from, or how it got into his drink.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
REVENGE IS A LONG PROCESS
The crowd reacts with a huge outcry of cheers at the sight of the War Angel himself leaning forward against a crate, his head pounding as he grips at the back of his barren skull. Obviously the King of Monsters is still reeling from the effects of that heinous shot to the back of the skull with a baseball bat at the hands of the World Heavyweight Champion. The thought of the attack has yet to fade from his mind, still at the forethought of his twisted, deranged brain as he plots exactly what he’s going to do Hurse when he gets his hands on him. Psycho is revealed to be standing beside him with an equally as demented, furious expression on his burnt features. He runs his hands through his long, dark locks slowly, perhaps contemplating what he’d like to do his age old rival, or Robin Brooks, as well.
Psycho: I’ll tell you this right now Chapel, Hurse is going to be a sitting target in that ring up next when he faces that piece of shit Pat Evans and that always defenseless bitch Aurora Rose.
The mere mention of Pat’s name in the same sentence as Hurse’s outrages Chapel even further, recalling the attack at the hands of Evans at the conclusion of last week’s show. Just when he thought he couldn’t get anymore upset his rage has been further riled up. Yet he seems to take pleasure in where Psycho’s going with his statement.
Chapel: So what your saying, is that we should crash the party?
Psycho: Oh yes, oh yes. I say we let Desolation and Hurse get confident, and just when they think they have victory within their grasp, we show up and spoil their fun. That sounds rather amusing to me, how about you?
The dementia in Chapel’s eyes increases, nodding his head slowly, too angry to formulate another plan, therefore he quickly agrees to Psycho’s rather simple, but effective suggestion. Just when he’s about to extend his palm out in Psycho’s direction and set their sinister plan in stone a slight chuckle comes from behind the camera. Psycho and Chapel both look up in shock, clearly not liking the prospect of someone finding them amusing, not in the slightest. That’s when the camera pulls back, turning slowly to reveal Killjoy standing with his shoulder pressed to a wall, shrouded in shadows that slightly obscure the sight of him. He is shaking his head as his chuckling sounds like the menacing cackling of crows soaring over a rotting corpse.
Killjoy: Is that seriously the best you two could come up?
The Master of the Mind Games steps forward slowly with his head lowered, as if shamed by his two former mortal enemies, the same two individuals he assisted at the conclusion of last week’s show. Instead of allowing himself to snap, Chapel’s eyebrow arches, watching Killjoy as he gets closer and closer, a bit shocked that the man he mangled at Paranoia III isn’t more tentative in his approach. Psycho is equally as stunned by Killjoy’s boldness, considering the legendary feud the two have had with one another, that almost culminated in a violent, gory bloodbath at Paranoia several years ago.
Psycho: It was the best we could come up with on short notice, but let me guess, you got a much better plan, right?
He says this condescendingly and sarcastically but he can tell by the devious, maniacal smile on Killjoy’s face that he does indeed have something brilliant concocted in the deep recesses of his abnormally dark brain.
Killjoy: Actually, I just might have a plan which would be much more beneficial in gaining revenge against Hurse.
Chapel: And why should we trust your plan, Master of the Mind Games? Don’t you still have affections for Robin Brooks, I thought you might be a bit more upset with the two of us for what we’ve done to her tonight.
Although he doesn’t particularly like the sound of harm coming to Robin, Killjoy remains calm as he responds, not reacting with a physical outburst.
Killjoy: That’s a smart question, which is surprising coming from a man of your standards War Angel. But I don’t blame either of you for what you’ve done to Robin, the blame falls on one’s mans shoulders, and that’s Hurse’s. Your assaults against Robin are only bringing her closer to realizing what a cancer he is to her, how far he’s dragging her down. So once he’s out of the picture, once that fraud of a World Champion is taken care of, then maybe we’ll talk about what the two of you have done to Robin in the past, but that can wait for now.
Psycho and Chapel glance at one another, not sure what to think before they smirk slightly. The sadistic savage turns towards Killjoy with his burnt features.
Psycho: That sounds just fine by me. But let’s get one thing straight. All those years ago when I told you that our issues would never be resolved until one of us was buried and put away for good, still stands no matter what you might do to redeem yourself.
Killjoy: I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now do you two want to hear my plan or our we going to keep standing here with our dicks in our hands having a pissing contest?
Although still speculative, Chapel buries his forearms into the crate and leans forward with a disturbing grin on his face.
Chapel: Let’s hear all about your stroke of genius.
Killjoy begins to explain his plot almost immediately…
PAT EVANS & AURORA ROSE VS. DESOLATION & HURSE
Killing in the Name Of”
As this word is screamed through the sound system, Killing in the Name Of begins to play throughout the arena, a single spotlight shining upon the curtains that comprise the entry way. Yellow lights dance around the ring from the rafters as through the curtains strides none other than Hurse, the Master of Control. Right behind him is Desolation.
Mayne: ALL HAIL THE ALPHA GENERATION!!!!
Douglas: I guess, if you want. These two pieces of work are coming to the ring.
Hurse is smiling at the fans and bowing to them. Desolation just follows him with a smirk, seeing Hurse sticking it to the fans. Hurse laughs and points, extending his hand and moving it as a fan tries to slap it. Hurse spins around.
Douglas: Hurse is in fine spirits tonight, if not somewhat fearful of his surroundings.
Mayne: You would too if it seemed that the bosses were looking down on you. Not that they even like you.
Douglas: And of could you would be the expert on someone not being liked.
Mayne: Everyone loves me.
Douglas: Yeah! Ask Jon Rich or Robin Brooks.
Mayne: He’s a loser and she’s a whore.
Douglas: Of course.
Desolation steps in the ring after Hurse and calmly steps into their corner and leans there looking at the entrance with a slight grin on his face. “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, with Aurora Rose attached to a chain he is holding and dragging her to the ring. Evans walks around the ring and enters in, pulling on the chain so Aurora will follow him. As she finally gets into the ring, the ref unleashes her from her chain. Pat grabs it from the ref and puts it in his corner. Hurse and Desolation are laughing at this as Hurse steps out of the ring and Desolation stays in. Pat sees this and exits the ring and tells her to fight Desolation.
Douglas: Can you believe this? He’s making Aurora face Desolation first.
Mayne: Would you want to face Desolation?
Douglas: I wouldn’t, but I know someone who does.
Mayne: Yeah, yeah, yeah. He’s a loser. Get off the band wagon before you sink with him.
Aurora circles Desolation, whose face is now concentrating on Rosa. She charges in. As he tries to block, she slides between his legs, gets up, and dropkicks Desolation in the back and into the corner. The fans cheer as she is back to her feet, charges, and drives a knee to his back. She then pulls his head back, back to back, drops for a neck breaker. She gets back up. Pat screams for her. She comes over and Pat tags himself in. As Desolation is trying to get back to his feet, Pat comes up to him, front face lock, swinging neck breaker. He swings back to his feet and locks in a triangle choke. The fans are booing now.
Douglas: The fans are showing their disapproval here.
Mayne: They are finally seeing the way. The Alpha Generation is the way to go.
Douglas: Not about that you moron. About how Pat Evens wants to get in the ring once Aurora Rose puts Desolation down.
Desolation rolls around and gets a foot to the rope, forcing Pat to break the hold. Pat is to his feet and locks in a DDT, Desolation blocks it, lifts Pat in the air and drops him back. Pat grabs his back rolls around the ring and quickly tags in Aurora Rose. Rose ot the top with a huge pop from the fans. She jumps off and is caught by Desolation. He spins her around into a black hole slam. He covers.
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Kickout by Rose
Desolation back to his feet. He drops and elbow. She rolls out of the way, to her feet. Dropkicks Desolation. She is back up to the ropes. Desolation is to all fours, but the speed of Aurora Rose doesn’t allow him to move before the dropkick to the head. Back to her feet, she runs to the ropes, jumps to the middle rope, spins around, and nails Desolation with a leg drop. She rolls back to her feet and to the ropes again, Pat with a blind tag. She stops and turns around as the fans boo. Pat Evans steps over to Desolation and grabs him by the arm, steps around his head and locks in a strangle hold. Desolation grabs at Pat’s balancing leg and unbalances him. Desolation pulls away and turns around on all fours and tries to get to Hurse. Pat Evans is quick to get to his feet, jump over Desolation and nails him with a bulldog. Pat keeps a head lock cinched into Desolation. Desolation gets to both knees then to one foot. He throws Pat Evans off. Pat catches himself in the ropes, jumps to Rose and slaps her in the shoulder before rolling under the bottom rope. Desolation points at Pat, getting really pissed here. Pat is screaming at Aurora telling her to get into the ring. The fans are really getting on Pat’s case now.
Fans: CHICKEN SHIT! CHICKEN SHIT! CHICKEN SHIT!
Douglas: The fans are really sticking it to Pat Evans. This is rather uncharacteristic of him, yet I see him doing this.
Mayne: Maybe he’s trying to teach Rose about real pain.
Douglas: Or maybe he wants her to take to brunt of the damage for their team just to torment her.
Aurora does what she is told and steps into the ring. Desolation is looking at Pat. Pat jumps back to the apron and spits at Desolation. Desolation gets pissed at this and charges at Pat. Pat drops off the apron. Aurora jumps to the ropes, spins, and dropkicks Desolation to the mat and he rolls out of the ring. Rose runs to the ropes, bounces, runs, jumps over the top, and lands on Desolation as he gets back to his feet. Pat runs arou nd the ring, sees Desolation on all fours again, runs, grabs him by the head and flips over Desolation with a huge neck breaker. He is back to his feet, pulls Desolation up and rolls him into the ring. Hurse is now there and charges after Pat. Pat grabs Rose and hides behind her. Hurse charges right through Rose and puts her to the outside mat. Pat is back in his corner and complaining to the ref. Aurora gets to her feet and jumps to the ring apron. As Desolation gets back to his feet, Rose pulls back in the top rope, jumps on the top, spinning heel kick to Desolation’s head. Aurora gets back to her feet as Pat screams back at her.
Pat: GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!
The fans boo as she slowly complies. She tags him and he gets in. She looks at him as he points and orders her back into the corner. She looks at him and slowly does. Pat turns around to see that Desolation is already to his feet. He freaks and tags Aurora back in and jumps over the top rope. Aurora steps in the ring at looks at Desolation. Pat gets back into his corner and smiles. Desolation looks at Rose. As she charges, he lifts his foots and nearly takes her head off with a Mafia kick. Desolation grabs her by the hair and yanks her up. He grabs her by the throat and the wrist and begins seething at her in her face, he takes a few steps around before taking her hand and slapping it to his hand that is holding onto the rope. The ref calls a tag. Desolation throws her away before grabbing Pat by the throat and pulling him over the top rope and to the mat. Pat is to his feet just to have a knee blasted into his temple. Desolation straddles Pat and begins hammering him in the head. The ref gives the 5 count and forces The Dark Man to break. He pulls Pat up and throws him to the ropes. Desolation charges and nearly impales Pat with a foot to the chest. Pat grabs his chest and drops to both knees. He backs up and tags in Hurse. Hurse jumps in and dropkicks a kneeling Pat in the face. Hurse rolls back to his feet and pulls Pat up and lifts him up and drops back with a suplex. Back to his feet, Hurse jumps in the air and drives an elbow into the chest of Pat. Hurse covers
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Hurse with his feet on the ropes
3!
NO! The ref sees Hurse’s feet on the ropes and reverses the call and continues the match after warning Hurse. Hurse pulls Pat up and falls back with a DDT. Hurse is to his knees and locks in an arm bar. He reaches back to Desolation and tags him in. Desolation runs to the ropes, bounces off, jumps, and drives his knee into the chest of Pat Evans. Desolation grabs Pat and pulls him up, front face lock, grabs his opposite leg, lifts him up and executes a perfect Samuri driver. Desolation covers
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Kickout by Pat Evans. Desolation gets up and pulls Pat up and locks in a full nelson. As he gets ready to lift Desolation up, Pat locks his leg around Desolation’s own. Evans breaks the nelson, spins, kneels, and pulls Desolation over with a Fireman’s takedown. Pat locks in a Dragon Sleeper on Desolation after that. Hurse is quick the jump in the ring and kick Pat in the back of the head. The ref jumps at Hurse and warns him about getting in the ring. Pat is stunned for a moment but goes right at Desolation again and pulls him up. Desolation nails Pat with a low blow before driving his shoulder into Pat’s gut, pulling him up, Manhattan Drops him, and follows up with a huge clothesline. Desolation steps over to Hurse and tags him in. Hurse jumps in and stalks over Pat Evans, puts his foot on Pat’s face and spins around. Hurse runs to the ropes, bounces, jumps, and puts a knee to the face of Evans. Hurse rolls to his feet and poses for the fans. He steps over to Pat, lock in a double underhook, falls back, and wraps his legs around Pat’s body.
Douglas: You know how much I hate the Alpha Generation, but they are working as a team. Pat Evans was trying to control this another way and look at him now.
Mayne: Oh, now you want to jump on the Alpha Generation band wagon.
Douglas: I am merely giving credit where it’s due.
Pat puts his feet on the mat as opposed to his knees and spins Hurse around on his back. The ref drops and counts
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Hurse lets go of the hold. Both get to their feet, Hurse with a forearm to Pat’s head. He grabs Pat and throws him to the ropes, Pat reverses, Hurse bounces off the ropes, Pat scoops under Hurse’s legs, spins around with a powerslam. Pat gets to all fours and rolls forward and tags in Aurora. She jumps in and right away gives Hurse a dropkick. Desolation is in and Aurora dropkicks him down to the mat as well. She runs to the corner, jumps up, and corkscrews off of it and hits Hurse who is getting back to his feet. She pulls Hurse up, side headlock, SINFUL DESIRES!!!! She covers
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Desolation breaks up the count. The ref backs Desolation out of the ring. Aurora and Hurse get to their feet at about the same time. Hurse with a kick to the gut, gutwrench, LEGEND BOMB!!! No, it got countered into a hurricarana that flips Hurse over, Aurora seated on his chest and holding his legs down.
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Somehow Hurse is able to launch his shoulder from the canvas in the nick of time, Aurora falling forward out of exhaustion. Her eyes quickly turns towards Pat, beginning to crawl towards him to make the tag before Evans takes a step back. To everyone’s disgust and absolute repulsion, Pat tucks his hands behind his back and shakes his head. Rose rises to her knees with questioning, angry eyes as she glares at him.
Evans: No, I want to see if you can do this on your own, consider this one of life’s little lessons.
With demented yet mostly unemotional eyes Pat watches Aurora rise to her feet in disgust, unsure of what to do now. That’s before her Rose sense begins to tingle, Hurse rushing up behind him with his hands axehandled. Aurora side steps him and causes the Champion to run chest first right into the turnbuckle post, bouncing off it with a thud before staggering backwards. Rose steps in front of him, taking him around the neck then charging forward at the turnbuckle, stepping up quickly. She gets to the top rope then flips over in reverse, connecting with the sliced bread number 2 to a huge eruption of cheers from the fans. Pat watches on but not as if he’s impressed in the slightest, he enjoys the sight of Rose in this panicked state. Aurora gets to her feet and turns to face Desolation who has come storming into the ring only to be caught with a drop toe hold that causes him to tumble head first right into Hurse’s chest. The fans react with a huge chorus of cheers at the sight of this as both men convulse wildly on the canvas. Aurora drops down on Hurse and hooks his leg.
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No, again Hurse kicks out with just a few seconds to spare.
Douglas: Hurse kicking out of another of Aurora’s moves, she is on fire in that ring right now, even though what’s suppose to be her tag team partner refuses to tag himself in.
Mayne: Pat can do whatever he wants, he knows what he’s doing, he’s teaching Aurora a very valuable lesson.
Aurora gets to her feet and turns her back to Hurse before jumping into the air, doing a double back flip into a spine first cannon ball directly to the Champion’s ribs. Hurse rolls across the canvas, holding his mid-section in extreme pain while Aurora gets to her feet, looking truly confident. That’s right before Desolation delivers a blistering kick right to the back of her head, the sound of the strike echoing throughout the arena and causing a loud chorus of boos from the fans. Aurora tumbles to all fours, grabbing at the back of her cranium in terrible pain while Desolation staggers away from her, no longer listening to the pleas of the referee. He finally enters his corner though and extends his palm, a desperate Hurse crawling towards him and making the tag. Aurora gets to her elbows and knees though, glaring at Evans and reaching out, almost begging to make a tag, which she definitely needs right now. However, Evans still will not budge and apathetically shakes his head, refusing to comply. That’s when Desolation grabs her around the jaw and forces her to her feet before pulling her head between his legs. He wraps his arms around her waist, hoisting her up into the air and onto his shoulder. He has her set for what looks to be the awesome bomb only for Aurora to slide off his shoulder, landing on her feet behind his back. She charges into the cables and jumps onto the second one, springing off and twisting as she lands right on top of Desolation’s shoulders for the hurricarana. That’s when Hurse re-enters the ring and charges forward, jumping high into the air as he buries his knees into Rose’s spine, taking her by the shoulders. Desolation powerbombs her down into a back cracker! The fans react with disbelief over the tag team maneuver as Rose bounces high into the air, twisting then falling to the canvas. Desolation drops into the cover while Hurse vacates the ring. Pat just watches on, not even trying to break up the count now.
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3
The fans react with disgust as the Alpha Generation have advanced in the tag team tournament, thanks in large part to Pat’s refusal to make the tag. He just stands on the steps and shakes his head in utter disgust over Aurora’s failure, a failure he caused.
Mayne: Yes, they’ve done it, they’ve done it! Hurse and Desolation have advanced in the tag team tournament.
Douglas: I can’t believe this, not saying they wouldn’t have been victorious anyway, but if Pat would have tagged in, you might be singing a very different tune.
Billy: A jazz tune.
Dan: Yeah, sure, whatever.
The fans are still voicing their disapproval as Desolation stands and celebrates with Hurse, both men making their way towards the ropes. All the while Pat enters the ring and steps towards the partner he basically abandoned, placing his fists to his hips and staring down at her battered body with a shaking of his head.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
BABY MAKING
The World title belt glistens over the sweaty shoulder of Hurse as he’s seated in his limo, chuckling to himself. He seems quite pleased with the way that the last match panned out as he sits in his comfortable leather seat, holding up a champagne glass filled with some expensive bubbly. Beside him is positioned a tired, sweating and exasperated Robin Brooks, the Black Widow holding her palm to her head, her cranium having taken a lot of punishment the past few weeks at the hands of numerous opponents.
Robin: Steven, I think I might need a doctor.
Hurse: Hahahaha, yeah, the belt does make me look slimmer. Here, drink this, it will make your head feel better.
Still so pleased and proud of himself that his selective hearing has tuned the Black Widow out, he fills up a glass for Robin with some expensive champagne, quickly handing it off to the dazed Black Widow. As soon as the glass is placed in her palm it slips through her fingers and crashes to the floor below, Hurse not evening noticing while Brooks lifts her empty hand to her lips. She takes a drink of nothingness then feigns satisfaction, perhaps her head injuries a little more severe than earlier perceived, yet Hurse can’t be bothered, still celebrating his magnificent victory tonight. He drinks his own glass then turns and notices the Black Widow without a glass, leaning back against the seat trying to fight from fainting.
Hurse: Well, well, you downed that one quickly, someone must be feeling a little frisky, and for once it’s not just me.
The Champion turns towards Brooks and extends his arm out over her head rest, placing it across the back of her shoulders. She closes her eyes and groans loudly, in no mood for this whatsoever as the Champion slides confidently towards her.
Hurse: You know what would be the icing on the cake of a glorious night?
Robin: A glorious night for who, you?
Hurse: Naturally.
A wide, disgusting smile comes to the Champion’s face while he twirls a lock of Robin’s hair, sniffing at it. The Black Widow covers her face with both hands and almost sobs to herself the longer she has to listen to the World Champion.
Hurse: But like I was saying, sweetheart, I’m willing to overlook the fact that you had me incarcerated this week, as long as your willing to do something for me right here and right now.
Black Widow: Good God, you better be talking about singing show tunes.
The Champion finds himself chuckling as the back of his fingers slide soothingly down the check of his lovely girlfriend.
Hurse: No, but chances are you’ll be doing plenty of screaming and singing by the time we’re through.
Again he sneaks in with some kisses to the side of her face even though Brooks is clearly against any sexual escapades tonight, physically not up for it after all the physicality that she’s endured this evening.
Brooks: No, just no!
Brooks sticks her palm in front of Hurse’s face but he doesn’t stop kissing, making out with her hand now.
Robin: My God, your incorrigible.
Hurse grabs her wrist, pulling her palm down out of the way.
Hurse: I wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t playing hard to get.
Brooks: I’m not playing hard to get here, I’m in serious pain.
Hurse: Excuses, excuses. You just realized I was incorrigible, so you should realize nothing you say can make me stop.
The obnoxious, conniving Champion moves in and takes Robin under the jaw, holding her head up to kiss her on the lips. Just as he does, Brooks bites his lower lip with both sets of teeth, making his eyes widen with pain. She unleashes it as Hurse turns and clamps his hands over his mouth, stomping both of his feet and appearing outraged.
Hurse: What the hell was that for? You could have seriously damaged my pleasure makers.
Robin crosses her arms over her chest and turns away from the Champion while shaking her head in anger.
Robin: Oh please, your lips are always chapped and taste like the hairy red ass of a baboon.
Pausing for a moment before he responds, Hurse opts not to explain where that taste originated from, instead just becoming further enraged.
Hurse: I bet if Killjoy were here you’d screw him six ways from Sunday in the back of this expensive limo. God, your acting as prudish as my prom date.
Robin snaps her pain ridden features in the direction of the Master of Control.
Brooks: Steven, you took your cousin to the prom with you.
Hurse: Exactly, and your even worse than she was. Now are we going to make a bunch of little Steven’s here, or are you going to keep sitting there fantasizing about Killjoy?
In clear anger Robin sighs and rolls her eyes, reaching for the door-handle.
Robin: You know what, this night has been disastrous enough, so the last thing I want to do is sit back here and put up with is you trying to get in my pants and not even bothering to listen to me.
Hurse: I’m listening, but your just not very interesting.
He says this with a devious smile, creeping towards her once more before Robin buries her palm over his face and shoves him backwards in his seat. She quickly vacates the limo, leaving the World Champion sitting there with puppy dog eyes, they don’t entice her to come back though, storming away furiously. Hurse’s shoulders sink and his chest heaves, not even bothering to close the door behind Brooks before he falls spine first against the seat, leaning against it sadly. He closes his eyes and slaps his hand over his face, realizing he just made an ass of himself once again. Suddenly he feels the limo shake a little and a figure slide into the seat beside him, the door that Robin left open slamming shut with a hard thud. It doesn’t startle Hurse though, it just causes a wide grin to come to his face as he keeps his eyes closed, beginning to extend his palm outward. He places it right on the knee of the figure seated beside him.
Hurse: I knew you’d come back sweety. I knew you couldn’t resist my other-worldly charms. Ewww….
He rubs at the massive leg of the individual seated beside him.
Hurse: You’re so cold, and according to the shape of your thigh you’re retaining a lot of water. Here, let big daddy Hurse warm you up, and create a few holes to get rid of all that excess water.
Puckering up by protruding his lips as far as they’ll go and making them truly pouty, he turns towards Robin. His lips near hers before the camera pulls back to reveal that the individual seated beside him is number one contender Chapel. The fans on the inside of the arena go absolutely nuts as he stares with no emotion right into Hurse’s face and those hideous lips coming towards him. That’s when Hurse’s eyes open and he takes into sight the demented features of the War Angel, causing a large lump to form in his throat. He begins to tremble while Chapel winks at him.
Chapel: Hi there stud.
In terror Hurse turns to exit the armored limo on the opposite side, but Chapel hits the unlock button on the door beside him. As the Champion reaches for the other door it opens abruptly and Psycho slides into the seat beside him. Hurse now finds himself trapped between both Chapel and Psycho, all the limo doors shut and locked, making it impossible for him to escape. His eyes dart back and forth out of absolute terror, trembling down to his very bones as the War Angel and the Sadistic One place their arms over his shoulders, almost as if they’re trying to make him comfortable.
Psycho: Ready for our road trip Hurse?
The Champion keeps looking into the demented faces of his arch rivals before chuckling, yet even his laughter is stuttering. He reaches down and fishes a cheap fake mustache out of the seat between his legs, trying to slyly slide it over his upper lip.
Hurse: Who is this Hurse you speak of, my name is John Everdaymanhasm. I’m a folk singer from the steel town city, and I demand you leave my limo immediately.
Both Chapel and Psycho close their eyes and shake their heads before the War Angel reaches up, ripping the fake mustache off of Hurse’s face. The remove of the fraudulent hair causes Hurse to scream and immediately cover his lips with the palms of his hands. He nervously glances at both men once more.
Hurse: If you guys let me go I’ll give you both an autographed picture of me, you’ll just have to share it.
Chapel: Nah, that’s okay, I think we’re going to leave our own special autographs on you, Stevie boy. Driver, we’re ready to go.
As soon as he says this the divider that separates the driver from the passengers rolls down and located in the front seat behind the steering wheel is none other than Killjoy. A chauffeur’s cap is placed on his head as he stares into the back seat with great delight, causing Hurse to become even more panic stricken.
Killjoy: Great. I guess we’re going to take the champ out for a night on the town. I’d suggest you buckle your seat belts, because this ride might get a bit bumpy.
Killjoy turns and starts up the limo as Hurse breaths hard and nervously, in absolute terror. He is shaking uncontrollably with tears almost coming down his face as he realizes he’s surrounded by all three of his arch rivals. The limo takes off with the camera switching to one on the outside of it, watching the vehicle speed off and out of the arena. Hurse’s high pitched screams can be heard in the background as his wild night is obviously just beginning.
Hurse: ROBIN! SAVE ME!
TOO MAGNIFICENT VS. ORLANDO CRUZE
The show comes back to the ring, the camera lens zoomed in on a contract hanging from a pole as the fans begin to cheer, as well as boo, realizing that tonight’s main event is coming up right this very second.
"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 with a surprisingly mixed response as through the curtains strolls Adam Riddick wearing a referee shirt much to his dismay and obvious dislike. He reaches down, grabbing his shirt, pulling it away from his chest and examining the many stripes running through the fabric in obvious disgust. Before he can sigh Christian Savior steps through the curtains, slapping him on the shoulder then pointing towards the ring. Adam takes a deep breath as he and his brother start towards the ring amongst outrage from the onlookers.
Douglas: Well, the time has come for a match I certainly have not been looking forward to whatsoever.
Mayne: Why not? You should be ecstatic! This will be the last time we ever have to put up with Orlando Cruze, hahahaha. After so many unbearable years of putting up with his redundant gimmicks we will finally wish him a fond farewell, hahahaha.
Dan: I hate to say this, but you might be right on this one occasion as the deck has been definitely been stacked against Cruze this evening.
Mayne: Exactly. Oh wait, I mean, don’t be grumpy and paranoid Dan, I’m sure Adam Riddick will call this match right down the middle.
Dan: There’s a better chance of gumby winning an academy award.
Adam has entered the ring, storming back and forth, obviously not wanting any part of this but forcing himself to go through with it under the guise of his brother Savior. Christian is encouraging him from the outside of the ring with claps and words of instruction. As Riddick leans back first against the corner “Animal I Have Become” by Three Days Grace hits the PA system, causing everyone in the arena to start booing furiously at the sight of Too Magnificent who strolls through the curtains onto the stage. He has a very menacing expression on his face while golden pyrotechnics shoot down from the rafters behind him, showering the stage and golden luminous. He looks almost as unhappy as Riddick with these circumstances before he starts towards the ring slowly, a very serious, plotting expression stretched over his features. He finally reaches the ring, stepping up onto the apron then over the cables, pointing in Riddick’s direction, sending him a verbal warning. Adam glares at him with a slight smile, not concerned by his threats in the slightest. Too Mag is too predisposed with glaring at the contract to observe the smirk on Riddick’s face, realizing everything that those few sheets of paper on a clipboard mean.
Mayne: It’s good to see that Too Magnificent is as serious as he possibly can be this evening, that his head is on the game.
Douglas: He’s in just as much danger of losing his job tonight as Orlando, and it appears as if he finally realizes that, as if he truly understands just how important this match is.
Mayne: Hahaha, yeah, if you say so.
Too Magnificent turns towards Riddick, the two beginning to banter with one another as the Alpha enforcer motions towards his AG t-shirt. Adam doesn’t seem to care about his affiliation with the Alpha Generation especially when “You Know My Name” by Chris Cornell begins to play throughout the building, sending every fan in attendance into a frenzy. They’re all jumping with excitement, putting their hands together, screaming as loudly as they possibly can. The lights dim and 'Cruze' flashes rapidly on the video screen. Down either side of the rampway white strobe lights flicker as Orlando strides through the curtain and to the top of the ramp. He looks one way and then the other before walking down the rampway and to the ring, each strobe light extinguishing, and the arena lights getting bright with every step. As he reaches the bottom he slides under the ropes into the inside of the ring, standing up then moving towards one of the turnbuckles to continue his usual ring entrance. As he nears the turnbuckle he diverts from his path and immediately rushes across the ring right at Adam Riddick, beginning to fire right hands repeatedly into the face of the official. Riddick was caught off guard, sending him flying back first against the corner, Cruze slugging him over and over again to the jaw before Too Mag steps up behind the Icon. He grabs hold of Orlando’s shoulder spinning him around and receiving a vicious closed fist shot right to his jaw from the Icon as a result.
Douglas: Look at this, much like Nathan earlier in the night, we’re seeing a much more aggressive Cruze, not hesitating to go right after Adam Riddick, and his opponent this evening.
Mayne: This is certainly a crazy way for this main event to get off to.
Riddick hangs back in the corner watching on now as Orlando slugs Too Magnificent to the jaw, then does it once again, and again. Each blow knocks Too Magnificent closer and closer to the cables before Orlando backs up and rears his fist as far as it will go, throwing one last shot at his face. That’s when Too Mag blocks his fist though, catching him by the forearm and pushing his arm away before lobbing his own right hand straight across the side of Cruze’s head. Orlando is stumbled by the shot as Too Mag steps away from the ropes, grabbing him by the top of the head then leveling him with a hard fist shot that sends him crashing right down to the canvas across his spine. The fans are booing furiously as Orlando rolls over onto his elbows and knees, forcing himself to his feet then stepping towards Too Magnificent who now delivers another straight right hand to his opponent’s face, sending him tumbling to the ring once more. Christian claps on the outside of the ring, pleased with what he’s seeing as Orlando rolls across the ring, light headed and falling into the cables side first. He uses these ropes to drag himself to his feet, incredibly dazed and turning slowly towards Too Magnificent who is opting to get a running start for another right hand. Orlando suddenly steps away from the cables and side steps Too Magnificent, catching him by the back of the head while charging him at the ropes then throwing him over to the outside. Too Mag twists around before crashing hard across his back on the outside mats, Orlando staggering in reverse, placing his palm to his forehead as he tries to keep his legs beneath him. Rising onto the apron is Christian Savior, who is shouting at Riddick to do something about this, to intervene. Adam is hanging back though before Orlando turns abruptly towards Savior, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him over the top rope into a forward flip. Savior hits the ring back first and turns onto his knees, arching his spine as he rises to his feet only to be leveled by a big running reverse elbow from Orlando. The impact sends Cruze into a spin across the ring with his back facing Too Magnificent who has just re-entered, stepping up behind him and catching him around the neck. Too Mag drags Cruze down into a big reverse neckbreaker against the canvas.
Douglas: Orlando Cruze was on fire there for a moment, taking his fury out on everyone in that ring but nothing lasts forever as Too Magnificent just demonstrated with a quick reverse neckbreaker.
Mayne: That’s what you refer to as expert timing Dan, as perfect strategy from Too Magnificent, he entered that ring at the optimum time to deliver that neckbreaker, catching that easily distracted Cruze. I think Orlando would take his mind off a match just at the sight of two moths fornicating. Actually, that would distract me easily too.
An agonizing Orlando tries to force himself up to his feet as he turns onto his elbows. Just as he starts to will his way upward Too Magnificent steps up in front of him, reaching down and taking him around the jaw. He pulls up on his head then unleashes a loud grunt as he delivers a vicious forearm shiver to the side of his head. Orlando is knocked onto his back by the impact before Too Mag extends his foot and places it right to Cruze’s gut, stepping up onto it. He stands on one foot while balancing himself, allowing all of his weight to go down into the mid-section of the Icon who is roaring in pain. Too Magnificent now jumps off of Orlando ribs sideways and extends his leg, dropping it right across the throat of the Icon. Orlando begins to convulse as a result, reaching for his jugular and gasping for air while Savior has now rolled to the outside of the ring holding his jaw and glaring into the ring menacingly. He immediately begins to shout at Too Magnificent to deal with Orlando, and after receiving a shrewd glare from the AG member he takes Orlando around the head, dragging him over onto his knees. He now pulls him up to his feet and buries his shoulder against his gut, unleashing a roar as he charges him across the ring spine first right into one of the turnbuckles. The body of the former three time World Champion crashes with force against the corner and causes his arms to tumble over the ropes, keeping him upright.
Too Magnificent stands up in front of Orlando, lobbing a hard right hand into the side of his face before connecting with a back elbow directly against his cheek. Too Mag then takes a step back and begins to repeatedly stomp Orlando to the mid-section over and over again, the Icon almost falling out of the corner due to this onslaught. Too Mag reaches out and takes him around the chin though, throwing him back first against the corner to keep him upright then delivering a frying pan like open hand chop directly across the Icon’s sternum. Orlando bends forward, holding his chest with both arms when Too Magnificent delivers a brutal upward kick directly to his chest, knocking him off of his feet finally. Orlando is taken down to his seat with his spine pressed against the corner when Too Magnificent places his foot directly to his throat, grabbing hold of the ropes in order to apply further pressure on the strangulation. Gasping for air Orlando tries to force Too Magnificent’s foot away from his throat yet can’t seem to muster up the strength to push him away. He doesn’t have to worry about struggling against him for long as Too Magnificent breaks the hold and then charges across the ring into the opposite ropes, bouncing off and coming back in. He turns and launches his back side in Orlando’s direction when Cruze rolls out of the way. This causes Too Magnificent to hit the turnbuckle hard spine first, leaning forward as a result while Orlando stands up at his side then charges forward, catching his large opponent around the head. He pulls Too Magnificent out of the corner and jumps into the air, dragging his massive opposition down face first into the canvas. The features of the giant bounce violently from the ring causing him to roll onto his back while Orlando turns to his elbows and knees, forcing himself to his feet. As soon as he gets up he finds himself glaring into the eyes of Adam Riddick who is bent forward in front of him, watching him rise slowly to a standing base. As they come eye to eye Riddick grins widely, motioning to his referee shirt then pointing at the contract hanging from the pole. Although Cruze would desire nothing more than to wrap his hands around Riddick’s neck he keeps his cool and starts to make his way towards the corner where the pole is positioned.
Douglas: Cruze the first one to make an attempt for that contract.
Mayne: Of course, with him being surrounded by nothing but enemies he’s got to go for that contract every chance he gets, and believe me there’s not going to be a lot of those opportunities.
Orlando starts to move past Riddick tentatively in the direction of his contract before Too Magnificent sits up and grabs him by the back of the trunks. With quickness Too Magnificent drags Orlando down into a school boy type pull over and then stands up quickly as Cruze is sent rolling over onto his knees. Just as Too Magnificent stands and steps towards him Orlando launches himself off his knees head first right into his massive opponent’s mid-section hunching him over, bringing him down to size. Right as he bends forward Orlando rises from his knees and delivers a double palm thrust directly to Too Mag’s sternum, causing him to stand up straight while staggering backwards. He tries to keep his feet beneath him but finds it difficult as the Icon steps in and delivers another double handed palm thrust into his chest. These strikes greatly disorientate Too Magnificent, especially as Orlando grabs him by his blond hair, bending him forward to deliver a hard European Uppercut directly into his face. The collision causes Too Magnificent to stagger in reverse some more, barely keeping himself upright. At the sight of him still standing Orlando becomes flustered, backing up and then going into a roaring European Uppercut attempt. Right as he spins in Too Magnificent’s direction throw the big man steps forward and delivers a brutal lariat directly to his throat, catching him directly before he had the chance to connect with his strike.
Cruze is almost turned inside out by the hard lariat from Too Magnificent, lying across his back for a moment before the giant comes charging in jumping into the air, folding up his leg to drop the full weight of his knee directly into the Icon’s face. The impact causes Orlando to begin flopping up and down on the canvas until Too Magnificent stands, jumping over him then rushing into the cables at his opposite side, ricocheting off then delivering a high jumping headbunt directly to the sternum of his opposition. The former World Champion turns away from many of his long time rivals here in the IWC, trying to sit up as he cover his sternum with both arms only for Too Magnificent to come barreling towards him with a devastating, brutal kick directly to his spine. Orlando arches his back, shouting in tremendous pain while Too Magnificent again charges into the cables in front of his opponent. He bounces off then launches his whole body at Cruze, rolling back first into him, knocking the Icon onto his spine as Too Magnificent rolls off of him onto his chest hands and knees. Riddick watches on acting mildly impressed while Savior is cheering as well, finally clapping, pleased with the pain being inflicted on the Icon. Speaking of whom, the former champion is trying to force himself up to his feet once again only for Too Magnificent to step over his back, leaning down and wrapping his arms about his throat. He has him clamped in the sleeper hold while forcing Orlando up onto his feet, flailing him back and forth in this submission hold. Blood is rushing to Cruze’s cranium, turning it a bright shade of red as he does everything in his power to force the arms away from his throat. He can’t muster the strength to drag the arms from his throat as Too Magnificent continues to choke the very life out of him.
Mayne: Strangle him Too Magnificent, strangle him! Remember everything that has gone down between the two of you in the past, all the times you’ve beaten the holy hell out of one another, rid the IWC of him once and for all.
Douglas: If there’s one thing I’d expect you to learn after all these years, yes I’m saying you have a very limited learning capacity, it’s that Orlando is too resilient to put away for good, he keeps bouncing back.
Billy: Just like the energizer bunny, just without the gay ass ears and the drum set.
Dan: What!?!
Mayne: Huh?
Roars of pain try to escape the exasperated lungs of the Icon but he can’t force them out the longer he’s held in this submission by a demented, deranged Too Magnificent. The eyes of the giant are wide, brazen with hatred, with tremendous hostility. Orlando begins to fade, finding his strength leaving his body as his eyes begin to flutter. Finally, to everyone’s surprise Riddick steps in, trying to separate Too Magnificent from Cruze, realizing that the Icon has completely passed out at this point.
Christian: What the fuck are you doing!?! Remember the gameplan!
Too Magnificent also glares at Orlando questioningly before finally releasing Orlando, throwing him down at the canvas. The seething monster steps towards Riddick, lifting a single finger in Adam’s face to warn him while Riddick tells him to go for the contract already while Orlando is down. An angry Too Magnificent steps past the special referee and moves right towards the contract while Orlando’s eyes flutter, trying to reawaken himself, beginning to stir. Too Magnificent begins to climb up the turnbuckle under the swinging contract, blown back and forth by the wind in the Louisville Hall.
Billy: Too Magnificent is going to get the contract, he’s going to save his job and retire Orlando!
Douglas: Cruze has got to get up and stop this if he wants to keep his job intact.
An already slightly tired Too Magnificent reaches out, grabbing hold of the pole that holds up the contract, beginning to climb the corner quicker and quicker. He gets to the second rope when a clubbing blow strikes his back, causing him to bend forward as he wails in pain. The fans start to go nuts at the sight of a winded Orlando back on his feet, leaning against the cables side first for support. With Too Magnificent swaying like the contract high above, Orlando steps up onto the ropes beside his opponent, then locks his leg around one of the AG member’s. Before Too Mag can stop it he’s dragged off the corner with a Russian Leg sweep,that sends both him and Orlando crashing to the canvas spine first. The two men arch their backs and yell out in pain as a result while Savior slides his hands down his face, growing increasingly distressed. Therefore Savior begins to shout at Riddick, begging him to step in there and stop Orlando’s offensive comeback only for Adam to shake his head and refuse to do it. This slightly offends his brother, but Adam doesn’t care, choosing to call this match right down the middle. As Orlando and Too Magnificent force themselves to their feet, getting back to square one, to the point where this match started. The Icon delivers the first move as they try to stand, delivering a quick European Uppercut directly to Too Magnificent’s chin. The collision causes the big man to back into the cables, leaning on them for support before Orlando steps in, delivering another hard double hand palm thrust directly into his chest. This last strike is delivered with such force that the gargantuan Too Mag is almost sent over the ropes, Orlando stepping in and delivering a hard closed fist into the side of his face now before stepping in reverse. He slaps his arm and goes into a roaring European Uppercut attempt again when Too Mag bends forward, catching him stomach first against his shoulder, back dropping him over the cables.
The crowd screams before Orlando floats over and lands on the apron feet first, grabbing hold of the ropes to keep from crashing to the outside mats. A shocked Too Magnificent turns to face him when Orlando bends forward, driving his shoulder through the ropes to hit his opponent’s gut only for the AG member to side step it. As Orlando’s head is stuck through the ropes Too Magnificent charges in, delivering a vicious knee lift directly to Cruze’s face. The sound of the stiff strike causes the crowd to groan while Orlando almost tumbles to the outside mats but instead falls to his knees, leaning against the cables with his chin over the second rope. Too Magnificent turns and barrels across the ring into the opposite ropes and bouncing off them. He comes back in with a roar, extending his foot, launching it through the cables directly into Orlando’s face. A gasp comes from the fans gathered in Freedom Hall as Orlando is sent flying to the outside mats, twisting and crashing into them face first. After both stiff blows taken directly to his head Orlando is left lying on his back on the outside mats, appearing almost out of it at this point. This leaves Too Magnificent open to go for the contract, which is exactly what he’s doing as he pulls his leg through the cables, starting up the turnbuckle in a sluggish state. Sweat starts to cascade down his tired frame as he gets closer and closer to that illusive contract, the single object he needs to both secure his job and put Orlando away once and for all. He begins to get closer and closer to the contract, climbing up onto the second rope then shooting his leg out over the top one, straddling it to perfect his balance. He takes hold of the pole while trying to put his feet on the top cable and reach for the contract.
Mayne: Again Too Magnificent going for the contract! He’s going to put a less than merciful end to Orlando’s legacy.
Douglas: This is such a shame, such a damn shame, I can’t believe Orlando’s career is going to come to this type of conclusion.
Too Magnificent starts to step up onto the top rope when Orlando drags himself up onto the apron, finally understanding that no matter what shape his body is in he’s got to stop his opponent from ending his career. Too Magnificent is trying to stand up on the ropes reaching up for the contract, his hand falling just a bit short. He lunges for it again but almost loses his balance, especially as Orlando steps up to the perpendicular ropes in front of Too Magnificent, throwing a double handed palm thrust directly into his sternum. The force of the strike almost sends Too Mag plummeting to the outside mats, yet somehow he maintains his balance, inciting Orlando to reach out, taking him by the hair to deliver a stiff Euro Uppercut right to his face once more. The collision looks as if it broke Too Mag’s nose, blood dribbling out of his nostril, almost causing him to lose his balance and tumble to the mats. Orlando gives him another European Uppercut to the jaw, finally knocking him down off the top rope, causing him to slip and rack himself across the top cable testicles first. Too Magnificent shouts in tremendous pain as he reaches for his testicles, Orlando seizing the moment, stepping up onto the top rope. He is standing on the highest point of the turnbuckle and reaching up for the contract with the fans screaming simultaneously before Savior jumps onto the apron behind him. He reaches up, grabbing hold of Orlando’s leg, trying to drag him down off the turnbuckle only for Cruze to kick downward directly into his face. The shot knocks Savior off his feet, sending him crashing to the outside mats while Orlando reaches for the contract once more, taking hold of it. That’s before he’s punched right in the gut, causing him to bend forward reaching for his mid-section, Too Magnificent stopping him in the nick of time. Too Magnificent slides across the top rope until he’s seated on the turnbuckle, then grabs Orlando by the back of the head and forces him down ribs first across his shoulders. Too Mag stands up on the second rope with Cruze stretched across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and jumps forward, delivering a Finley Roll from the top of the corner. Cruze crashes hard back first into the canvas with the large Too Magnificent’s spine hitting against his stomach, the crowd standing, screaming over what they just witnessed.
Mayne: Oh my God, Too Magnificent just killed Orlando Cruze! He just killed Orlando Cruze dead with that Finley Roll from the top rope!
Douglas: Both men obliterated by that desperation move from Too Magnificent, their bodies have to be racked in pain.
Billy: But after delivery such a brutal maneuver it’s pretty obvious that all Too Mag has to do is stand up and make it to that turnbuckle to become the winner.
Dan: That’s much easier said than done considering his opponent this evening.
Still bleeding slightly from the nose Too Magnificent turns onto his elbows, attempting to muster up the energy to stand but finding it increasingly difficult. Orloando is almost attempting to accomplish the same task in his very dazed state, rising to his feet while bent forward clutching desperately at his ribs, which continue to be a source of irritation for him. Just as those feet get beneath him though, Too Magnificent steps up behind him, burying his shoulder into his spine then charging him chest first right into the turnbuckle. Orlando hits it with force, gasping in pain while Too Magnificent keeps his shoulder pinned to his spine, dragging him out of the corner and then lifting him up into the air. Too Mag turns towards the center of the ring while spinning Cruze off his shoulder into a sit-out powerbomb. The tired, already battered frame of the former three time World Champion crashes with tremendous force into the canvas, Too Magnificent sitting down and leaning forward, burying his shoulders into the back of Cruze’s legs as he instinctively goes for the pin. Riddick drops down in front of Too Magnificent, sticking three fingers in his face, informing him that he can’t get the pinfall which infuriates the leviathan. He pushes Orlando’s legs off his shoulders and stares spitefully into Adam’s face, standing up in front of him as Riddick verbally lays down the law. Savior shouts warnings at him from the outside of the ring, telling him to stop fucking with Riddick and stay on Orlando. Somehow Too Magnificent allows cooler heads to prevail, turning back towards Orlando slowly as he the Icon tries again to force himself to his feet. The attempt proves to be feeble as Too Mag steps towards him quickly, taking him around the jaw and dragging him up to his feet, then clamping his arms about Cruze’s waist. Too Magnificent drops back, flipping Orlando through the air and sending him crashing with force spine first into the canvas, bouncing off then turning onto his side.
Mayne: Stop acting like a cat playing with your mouse Too Magnificent. Wait, can someone explain why that just sounded dirty to me?
Douglas: Everything just sounds disgustingly sleazy coming from your mouth Billy, but it appears that Too Magnificent is attempting to beat Orlando down so badly he’s incapable of stopping him from reaching that contract.
Billy: Obviously.
The tired but motivated Too Magnificent steps across the ring in the direction of Orlando once more, still dominating him with his power moves as he grabs the Icon around the jaw. He forces him up to his feet then leans forward, wrapping his arms around his mid-section, beginning to squeeze at his body tightly with the bearhug. The Icon roars in pain, his eyes squeezing shut as his giant of an opponent now lifts him up into the air, really holding onto the bear hug, squeezing the life out of the Icon with all of his available upper body strength. As Savior watches from ringside he licks his lips with a morbid satisfaction, greatly enjoying this dismantling of Cruze, who is still roaring in pain before the squeezing of his mid-section, makes it to hard to breath let alone groan. Too Magnificent really puts all his muscle into the squeeze until Orlando’s ribs are almost ground into powder. The twisted features of the Icon make it appear as if he’s on the verge of giving up, but the resolve in his eyes tells a much different story. Too Magnificent squeezes a little tighter with a roar of his own, causing Orlando to be doubled over backwards, his spine almost cracked. Suddenly his eyes becomes full of passion, lifting both his palms into the air and out to the sides of Too Mag’s head then swinging them into palm strikes to both his temples. Too Magnificent becomes disorientated by the strike to his skull but keeps the bear hug established until Orlando delivers another double palm slap to both sides of his cranium. This collision causes Too Mag to bend forward, lowering Orlando down onto his feet as Cruze now digs his fingers into the eyes of his Alpha opposition, raking them gruesomely. Too Mag releases Orlando to a huge eruption from the crowd, allowing the Icon to deliver a closed fist to the side of his massive opponent’s face.
The closed knuckle shot staggers Too Magnificent who catches himself before Cruze delivers an absolutely vicious knife edge chip right across his sternum. Too Mag again is staggered before Orlando rushes into the cables in front of him, bouncing off and coming back in with another attempt at the roaring European Uppercut. This time Too Magnificent bends down ducking it and catching Orlando around his waist before dropping in reverse into a huge back drop driver. Orlando crashes right on top of the back of his head and shoulders, bouncing off the canvas as a result then being sent rolling across it onto his stomach.
Dan: Orlando fighting out of the bear hug but being squashed with that back drop driver when he attempted to take Too Mag down with that vicious roaring Euro uppercut.
Mayne: Why he keeps going for that move is completely beyond me.
The crowd is still watching on with shock while both men lye spread across the canvas, breathing heavily, trying to gain the strength to stand. The master of the Midas Touch is the first to begin moving, getting to his elbows and knees then stepping towards Orlando who has begun to force his way upward to his opponent’s disbelief. For some reason Orlando just won’t stay down, already getting up when Too Magnificent steps towards him, clobbering him to one side of the face with a forearm, then delivering the same move to the other side of his skull. Orlando staggers backwards into the cables due to all these shots to the head before Too Magnificent takes him by the wrist and whips him off across the ring. A barely coherent Orlando bounces off the cables with Too Mag following him in then jumps into the air, soaring through it with a lariat that connects directly to his opponent’s throat. Too Magnificent is knocked to the canvas with the crowd going nuts, amazed that Orlando is coming back in this contest, rolling across the ring to his elbows and knees.
With momentum on his side Orlando gets to his feet, Too Magnificent forcing himself up as well before Cruze steps in delivering a hard chop right to his chest. Too Magnificent is stumbled by the impact until Orlando slaps him to one cheek then follows it up with a spinning back chop right to the other side of his massive opponent’s head. Somehow Too Magnificent is still standing though, causing Orlando to become upset as he steps back and goes into a roaring European Uppercut that the Alpha Gen member ducks once more. A smirking Too Magnificent stands upright then turns around to face Orlando who spun into the cables then spun back out of them into a roaring European Uppercut that connects with such force it almost knocks his head off. Too Magnificent is sent flying backwards, crashing into the canvas while Orlando staggers forward into the ropes, falling against them for support. He leans on the cables with his eyes rolling to the back of his head, Too Magnificent completely sprawled out across the canvas behind him. With determination abounding in his eyes Orlando turns to stare up at the contract, dangling so high above. After taking a deep breath he starts towards the turnbuckle, beginning to scale it agonizingly.
Dan: Orlando finally hitting that highly destructive roaring Uppercut, and now he may be unopposed in his attempt to grab that contract!
Mayne: Get up Too Mag, get up, or do something Riddick instead of standing there like an oversized paper weight with nice hair.
Too Magnificent rolls back and forth, trying to stand up but finding it harder than imaginable to do so. All the while Orlando is scaling the corner, already finding it to the second rope before staring up at the contract and being reminded why this match is so important. A groan comes from him and he forces himself to move a little quicker, climbing up onto the top rope and grabbing hold of the pole as he begins to balance himself out on the cables. He reaches up as his fingers touch the very tip of the contract, it swings away from him unfortunately. An irritated, exhausted Orlando extends his arm as far as it will go for the contract once more and takes hold of it, everyone in the building going nuts. That’s before he’s grabbed by the trunks, Too Magnificent standing in the ring behind him and turning him around. Cruze is spun to face Too Mag who pulls down on his trunks, causing Orlando to be bent forward as the Alpha Generation member places his hands to his chest and stomach. Too Magnificent throws Orlando out of the corner with a military press that sends him hitting the canvas then rolling across it right onto his feet. Cruze roars as he stands and turns towards Too Magnificent located with his back to the corner, rushing towards him with a fierce glare inhabiting his eyes. He jumps right at Too Magnificent who catches him and drives him down to the canvas with an absolutely brutal spinebuster that causes the crowd to react with shock. Orlando is almost flattened like a pancake thanks to the collision with the canvas while Too Magnificent falls spine first against the corner gasping for air.
Mayne: Hahahaha, Too Magnificent just destroyed Orlando with that spinebuster, he broke him clean in half.
Douglas: Orlando’s body taking a lot of punishment with that last spinebuster slam, and it may have concluded his chances at grabbing that contract and winning this match.
Too Mag leans on the ropes for support with a very groggy glint in his eyes before he turns to face the contract, beginning to climb towards it as if it were the Holy Grail. With every agonizing step he takes he gets closer to saving his job, reaching out and grabbing hold of the pole now. He steps up onto the top of the turnbuckle, trying to balance himself before reaching out for the contract. It’s so close now, so very, very close that his fingers tip the corner of the clipboard when Orlando jumps into the air behind him, delivering a dropkick to his posterior. The impact causes Too Mag to be launched forward face first into the steel ring post. His skull bounces from the steel but he wraps his arms around the pole to keep from crashing to the outside of the ring. The massive Alpha Gen member hugs the steel pole in order to keep from crashing to the outside mats, his legs cutting out from beneath him. Orlando quickly starts to climb the corner even though his body is weighing him down, getting to the top rope as fast as he can. He balances himself out then reaches for the contract himself only to be punched in the ribs and bent forward by Too Magnificent. The Master of the Midas Touch stands up on the corner at Orlando’s side and grabs him by the back of the head, pulling in reverse on it then slamming him face first into the pole. Cruze’s features slam hard off the steel yet he remains standing, grasping hold of the pole himself. He then grabs Too Mag by the hair and pulls him face first into the pole as well, his skull bouncing off it hard. Too Magnificent begins to sway back and forth until his head is rammed into the steel yet again. His forehead is now lacerated as Orlando watches him closely, hoping that did enough damage to take him down. But as the blood streams down Too Mag’s face and enters his mouth his tongue extends to lick all the claret around his lips, making his eyes widen and fill with a fearful gaze. He smiles from ear to ear as the blood streams down his face then begins to ram his own head into the pole repeatedly, busting him open even further.
Orlando looks at him oddly as Too Magnificent shouts at him to “come on” only for Cruze to jump off the turnbuckle and dropkick the Alpha Generation member directly to his side. The force of the dropkick sends Too Magnificent flying off the turnbuckle then turning as he comes crashing down chest first into the announce table. His body bounces off it violently before finally tumbling onto his back with blood streaming down his features. Billy gets up behind the announce table and immediately begins to try and fan him off with his open palms.
Mayne: Nooo! Get up Too Magnificent, get up!
Douglas: I don’t think he can after that nasty landing! He’s done with Billy, he’s done with!
Orlando has gotten to his elbows and knees on the canvas, crawling towards the turnbuckle and grabbing hold of it, using it to drag himself back to his feet. As soon as he gets his legs beneath him though he turns to face Christian Savior who has entered the ring and is now charging in with what appears to be a spear. Orlando steps away from the corner though and bends forward, launching his arm over Savior’s chest then hoisting him into the air, dragging him down to the canvas with the Rock Bottom to a massive ovation. Riddick is hanging back before he sees his brother driven to the canvas with the Rock Bottom, Orlando starting to stand up in front of him. He’s bent forward when the Icon steps in and steps over his head, beginning to hook up his arms for perhaps some type of face plant as Orlando steps backwards in the direction of the cables. Just as Adam gets him hooked for the move Orlando stands up, back dropping Riddick right over the cables to the outside mats. The Renegade crashes hard back first into the outside mats while Orlando falls to his hands and knees on the ring, breathing heavily.
Douglas: Somehow Cruze has taken out both Riddick and Savior, meaning there’s no one to stop him from reaching his contract!
Mayne: No, this just went from bad to worse.
With Too Magnificent completely laid out on the mats Orlando climbs the corner painstakingly, every inch of his body killing him, yet he keeps going until he’s gotten to the top rope. Finally he reaches out, grabbing hold of the contract and ripping it off the pole to a huge eruption of cheers from the fans.
Dan: Orlando has done it, he’s done it! He’s won this contract match, he’s saved his job, he’s saved his job!
Mayne: This can’t be, this just can’t be right! Too Magnificent can’t be fired, he’s been a staple here since the dawn of time.
Douglas: It’s sad that his job had to be on the line here tonight but you can’t change the rules Billy, there can be only one winner, and tonight the victorious man was Orlando Cruze, who overcame all these odds to walk away the winner.
A very exhausted, battered Orlando drops down feet first to the canvas securely holding his contract while turning back towards the center of the ring. Breathing heavily in the process Cruze staggers across the ring, holding his contract up high to a huge celebration before he’s almost sliced right in two with a violent, vile spear directly to the gut. Cruze flips over backwards upon the impact, crashing hard across the back of his head and shoulders. He stands up on top of his skull then drops over to his face and chest thanks to Savior’s Blaze of Glory.
Douglas: Oh come on dammit! Is this really necessary? Savior assaulting Orlando after the match has ended!
Mayne: That makes this victory by Orlando slightly more bearable.
Too Magnificent is sitting up with his spine pressed to the announce table now, bleeding from the scalp with wide, shocked eyes. There is little emotion inside of them, as if he’s completely snapped and lost all hope, all faith in humanity, alongside losing the profession he loves. Orlando is holding onto his ribs with both arms, trembling as shockwaves of pain course through this body. Savior gets up now and steps towards Orlando, grabbing him around the head and dragging him up to his feet. As soon as Cruze stands up, Savior jumps into the air, twisting so as to grab him around the neck before pulling him down to the canvas with a lethal diamond cutter. The maneuver causes Orlando to tumble face first into the ring, standing on top of his features before bouncing off the canvas and dropping onto his back. The crowd is disgusted over the disturbing way Orlando just took that diamond cutter from Savior, who sits up smirking slightly. Riddick gets to his feet on the outside of the ring, slipping in himself with a furious expression on his face. He seems really riled up as he steps towards Orlando and stomps him hard to the back of his head, furious over him putting his hands on him in this match. Savior rises to his knees, enjoying the sight of his brother looking all fired up and giving in to his hatred. The crowd suddenly erupts into cheers as through the curtains charges Nathan Creed, barreling towards the ring with that steel pipe in the palm of his hand.
Douglas: It’s Nathan Creed, it’s Nathan Creed! He’s coming to his tag team partner’s aid thank God!
Mayne: He should do the smart thing and leave his partner for dead.
The fans are still going nuts as Nathan slides into the ring with the bar in hand, standing up quickly. He rushes at Riddick who turns at him, receiving a shot to his shoulder with the steel pipe. A groan comes from Adam who turns away from Nathan, dropping to his knee and reaching for his arm. An intense Nathan turns towards Savior only to receive a brutal superkick directly to his chin. The shot knocks Creed out cold almost immediately on impact and sucks the wind from the sails of the fans in the process. Creed crashes onto his back and drops the steel pipe, not having eyes in the back of his head to prepare him for what Savior was setting up for. Riddick gets to his feet and rips his referee shirt off of him, rolling up as he stretches it out between both his hands. The intense Adam drops down beside Creed, placing the shirt across his throat, strangling him as Nathan gasps for air yet can’t find any of it.
Mayne: Well so much for Creed being Orlando’s night in shinning armor.
Douglas: Someone get out here and stop this please! Someone please stop this assault before it goes too far!
The skin pigment of Nathan’s face turns bright red as Riddick sits him up and drops to his knees behind him, dragging the shirt in reverse against his throat. Saliva drips from the corners of Creed’s mouth as he’s almost choked unconscious by Riddick, Orlando using the ropes to stand up behind them. Savior steps towards him quickly and grabs Orlando by the shoulder, spinning him around so that they’re face to face only for the Icon to jab him across the side of the head. Christian is staggered with the fans going nuts, Orlando staggering all over the place but finding the strength to strike Savior to the features once more. This last shot causes Savior to turn away from the Icon and bends forward, snatching the steel pipe off the canvas. Orlando grabs him by the shoulder and stands him up before Savior turns, striking him right to the face with the pipe. Disgust comes from the crowd at the sight of the steel connecting with skull, Orlando being taken from his feet and sent hurling to the canvas back first. He is not completely laid out with his forehead busted wide open, claret rolling down his cheeks.
Douglas: Noo, oh God, Orlando’s skull may have just been cracked with that violent shot from the steel pipe!
Mayne: I don’t think it may have cracked his skull, I do believe it most likely broke every bone in his face.
Riddick is still seething as he chokes Nathan out, Creed’s face becoming a very bright shade of blue, all life escaping his features. Savior shouts something towards Riddick who nods then stands up, forcing Creed to his feet as well with the use of the shirt around his throat. Sweat rolls down Creed’s skin that continues to change colors before Savior steps in and swings the pipe right into his ribs. Riddick releases the shirt and allows Creed to tumble to his elbows and knees, coughing and gagging while reaching for his busted up mid-section. That’s when Savior throws the steel pipe to Riddick who catches it then swings it down violently into Creed’s lower back, doing some serious damage to his spinal column perhaps. Nathan writhes in pain as he tumbles onto the canvas now, reaching for his kidneys in tremendous pain. The boos from the crowd continue to get louder as Sallie and Krissie come marching towards the ring with a bag held out between them.
Dan: Oh God no, I didn’t think things could possibly get any worse but I was dead wrong.
Mayne: Those are our bosses your talking about so you had better watch what you say.
Savior has mounted Orlando and begun punching him repeatedly in the face, further lacerating him as more and more blood rolls down his busted features. Sallie and Krissie unzip the bag then reach inside, removing a bat wrapped in barbwire then throwing it into the ring, then extracting what looks to be a sack full of something. They slide that in as well as the beat down of Creed and Cruze intensifies. Riddick approaches the baseball bat, grabbing it off the canvas and lifting it into the air in front of his face, staring into the barbwire as if mesmerized. Nathan is already trying to force himself up to his feet, getting his elbows beneath him and one knee as he looks up at Riddick with blank, glossed over eyes. Just as his pupils fix on Adam, Riddick comes charging in, swinging the barbwire bat directly into the top of Creed’s head. Nathan is knocked to his back, beginning to flop up and down as the barbwire gets stuck in his hair, Riddick forced to rip it out.
Mayne: I think Nathan may have just been made slightly less sexually appealing with that shot.
Douglas: This is repulsive, absolutely repulsive in every feasible way. Why is there nobody out here helping these two men?
Billy: I think Sallie and Krissie had something to do with that.
Riddick shouts for Savior to sit Cruze up as Christian gladly does so. He pulls Orlando up onto his seat while the Renegade steps behind him, placing the bat right to Orlando’s forehead, digging the barbwire into his already lacerated scalp. Although barely conscious Cruze begins to shout at the top of his lungs as Adam begins to rub the barbwire back and forth across Orlando’s forehead. His legs kick at the canvas as he tries to muster the strength to push the bat away, but is far to weak to do it, more and more of his blood gushing through his ripped skin. Savior approaches Creed, grabbing him by the hair and dragging him to his knees before throwing him throat first onto the second cable so that his now bloodied, torn face is staring to the outside of the ring at his former lover Krissie. While Christian grabs the turnbuckle post of the top rope and unties it Krissie slaps Creed across the cheek repeatedly.
Krissie: You see what’s happened to you now? This wouldn’t have happened if you had just loved me!
With another slap Savior grabs Creed by the hair, dragging his bloodied body to his feet with Nathan barely able to stand then dragging him down face first into the exposed turnbuckle bolt. Creed bounces off the steel bolt, his face mangled as more blood rolls down his features, collapsing to the ring spine first. Riddick is still rubbing the barbwire bat across Orlando’s face before he pulls it away, removing skin with it in the process. Cruze falls to his side, barely able to breath as pints of blood literally flood down his face and leak across the canvas below. The Icon is actually shaking due to such an extreme loss of blood at the hands of Riddick and Savior, who are enjoying dismembering their adversaries. Christian steps towards the sack that was thrown into the ring by Sallie, lifting it up into the air and untying it slowly before turning it upside down to spill out its contents. The fans react with utter dismay as thumbtacks mixed with chunks of glass are spilled out across the canvas, forming a puddle of steel and jagged shards.
Dan: Oh my God, please don’t do this, please don’t do this! Come to your senses.
Mayne: Savior and Riddick were brought here to do a job Dan, and that’s exactly what they’re doing here tonight.
Although entirely incoherent Orlando has turned to a crawling base, his blood oozing from every inch of his face as he reaches out to grab the black specs he perceives to be flying all around his head. Dementia appears to be setting in due to such a disgustingly amount of blood loss, yet Savior and Riddick still aren’t done. Adam stomps Cruze to the back of the head then grabs him around the neck, dragging him up to his feet. Savior steps to Cruze’s side and places him in a front chancery while Riddick bends forward and does the same, both of their backs facing the tacks and broken glass that was just spilt out. The crowd is standing, pleading with them not to do it but their begging falls on deaf ears as both men fall back and double vertical suplex Cruze spine first right into the tacks and glass. Orlando sits up roaring louder than ever before as hundreds of tiny tacks and small shards of glass protrude from his bleeding back. If blood wasn’t clouding his eyes they’d be a clear indicator for juwt how bad the pain was coursing through his body. He turns and falls onto his side, rolling away from the sea of dangerous objects, stretched out on his front a bloody ball of ripped tissue. Savior and Riddick still aren’t done yet as Christian yells at Adam to do something. Actually finding himself somewhat conflicted now it takes him a moment to nod before slipping through the ropes and onto the apron. He approaches the turnbuckle, beginning to scale it while Savior grabs hold of Nathan’s hair, pulling him to his feet. Nathan swings wildly to try and protect himself but connects with nothing as Christian steps in and punches him hard to the face then takes hold of his hair once more. Dragging him to his feet Savior locks him in a front chancery then backs towards the tacks. Creed is almost falling over yet Savior forces him to stand before dropping in reverse, careful not to land on the tacks or glass himself as he spike DDTs Nathan face first into them. Mothers cover the eyes of their children who are weeping, while many of the male onlookers just watch on with gaping mouths, palms on their heads in disbelief. Creed convulses as he drops onto his back, laid out amongst the tacks and glass, some of which sticking out from portions of his increasingly bloodied face. Riddick is now on the top rope with Krissie and Sallie cheering him on to great delight.
Douglas: No, no, please Riddick, please!
Mayne: Finish him off Renegade, finish this son of a bitch off once and for all! Do what your paid for.
After debating it for a second and seemingly coming to his senses, Riddick stands up on the turnbuckle then frog splashes Nathan, driving his back hard into all those sharpened instruments he’s lying on top of. Adam rolls away as Creed begins to flop around, his body cut up from head to toe.
Douglas: Jesus Christ, God almighty, no, just, no! This is horrible!
Mayne: I’ve never seen Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed decimated like this before, not in all my years of calling their matches. They’ve been destroyed at the hands of Riddick and Savior, and I’m not using that term lightly, they’ve literally been destroyed.
Dan: These two men need medical help, they need medical help. I’m going in there.
Mayne: Sit down you idiot.
As Riddick and Savior slide through the ropes onto the apron they take one last long look at both Creed and Cruze lying on the ring in pools of their own blood. Douglas didn’t pay attention to Billy as he slips into the ring with a towel he grabbed from the time keeper, crawling towards Orlando. He places the towel to the biggest wound of his head, trying to stop the bleeding until EMTs show up while Sallie and Krissie give their new heroes a standing ovation. They even curtsey to them gracefully as Savior chuckles, dropping to the mats, Riddick not looking quite as happy with what he’s done. Nevertheless he drops down beside his brother, Sallie and Krissie stepping between them as they all four back up the ramps. Sallie takes hold of Riddick’s wrist, and Krissie grabs hold of Christian’s, all of them lifting their arms into the air in victory as they back up the ramp. Their eyes are focused on the carcasses of Cruze and Creed in the ring, Dan doing his best to treat their wounds with no signs of help still. Savior slaps his bloody palm against his chest, rubbing the crimson around his sternum with a chuckle, adorning his frame with his rival’s claret.
Billy: What an out of control night this has been, and an ending that none of us will ever forget. Cruze and Creed have been left in puddles of their own blood, and require serious medical assistance. It appears that for tonight S.K, and Savior and Riddick have won this war with the Icon and the Future.
The fans are still screaming in outrage as all four now loathed individuals back up the ramp, leaving two IWC legends destroyed in their wake.