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 from the top of them. It switches quickly to AWOL’s fierce face glaring forward maliciously before shifting to Aurora Rose moodily making her way down the ramp, with the bangs of her hair hanging in front of her dreary face. It then cuts to Jackson Adams being choked out with a crowbar to his throat from Jon Rich 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 Silencer driving his forehead into David Millers, both men busted open already. 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 backs 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 David Miller is shown giving Denile Partis a piledriver onto the solid steel stage. Pat Evans is then the focus of attention, 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 Kelly Hart and Shannon Blaze connecting with the a modified death sentence, where a shooting star leg drop is used instead of the textbook one. 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 Silencer superkicking one of his opponent’s directly under their jaw. Sean Johnson is featured awkwardly hugging both River Angelus and Shawn Logan 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!
Surprisingly there are no pyrotechnic displays or cheesy back and forth banter between commentators to open this week’s telecast of Riot! Instead the whole arena is encased in shadows, a bleak, inescapable darkness, with only the cheers of the fans being an indicator as to their presence at tonight’s big telecast, just a week removed from the last pay-per-view of the year, Extinction. There is darkness everywhere with the exception of one spot, illuminated by a light shinning down from the rafters and centered around an all too familiar figure seated with his back pressed to a turnbuckle in the corner of the ring. The fans find themselves repulsed at the sight of the Dark Man himself, Desolation, sitting in the ring to kick off this edition of Riot! The No Holds Barred Champion is strewn across his lap while a microphone is clutched in his hand and a tired expression is draped over his face.
Dan Douglas: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Riot! and as you can see we’re starting things off a little different tonight with Desolation seated in the ring, having hijacked the show.
Billy Mayne: Why does it have to be so damned dark out here, I can barely even see to urinate.
Dan: Billy, this is the inside of the Manhattan Center, not the restroom.
Mayne: Oh, well someone is going to have come out and clean my seat then.
The cold, disturbingly twisted eyes of the Dark Man are settled on the entry way, clothed in the same shirt he was wearing last week, with rips and tears now littering it after his tumble from the stage through the tables. Slowly the Dark Man lifts the microphone to his always frowning lips.
Desolation: My oh my how much can change in the span of a few short months. Who ever would have imagined that I, Desolation would actually be in pursuit of the IWC tag team titles given my years of disdain and repulsion for the clusterfuck format of tag matches.
A mixed reaction commences from the fans, who are forced to recall that tonight the Dark Man and the World Champion, Hurse, will be competing against the Rogue Squadron for the tag team titles.
Desolation: After all these years, who in their right mind would imagine that even after all their losses, that one defeat at the hands of the Alpha Generation would demoralize and cripple the undeserved confidence of Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed so badly that they couldn’t even drag themselves to the building tonight.
More prolonged boos emanate from the crowd, recalling the screwjob perpetuated last week against a handcuffed Cruze and an outnumbered Nathan. The mere thought of it conjures a smile to Desolation’s otherwise bleak features.
Dan: That’s true ladies and gentlemen, apparently Nathan Creed and Orlando Cruze are not going to be here tonight after injuries sustained from last week’s beat-down by the combined efforts of the Alpha Generation and the Rogue Squadron, where they were screwed out of the tag team tournament.
Mayne: They’re not slated to be here tonight? Wow, this show might actually be slightly entertaining for a change.
Desolation allows the crowd a moment to get the anger out of their systems before progressing, wishing to go uninterrupted with his soliloquy.
Desolation: And who would have thought that after just a few weeks of feuding with me that Jon Rich would have finally developed a backbone.
A mixed response emanates from the packed Manhattan Center, some cheering at the mere mention of Rich, and others booing over the way his name has been slurred.
Desolation: Although he tried to shamefully deceive everyone by obscuring his face behind an El Magnifico mask, I could still see those eyes, and it’s a sight I won’t soon forget. As I looked into those pupils that were so clouded with hate, so ripe with fury, and so devoid of compassion, I felt like a proud father. I experienced the joy one must feel when they’ve reared a son, when they’ve brought them up and realized that due to their guidance, their offspring’s perception of reality has forever been altered and they’ve reached their full potential. That’s the only experience I can equate this feeling to. I don’t feel the need to avenge what transpired last week when I was knocked off the stage and sent through those conveniently gathered tables. I don’t desire or crave retribution for being hit over and over again with a steel pipe to every inch of my finely tuned anatomy. What I feel is pride, joy in fact, to know that I finally helped awake the darkness that has long since been buried within Jon, hidden behind his fraudulent smile, and his happy go lucky perception of the world. I awoke the part of Jon that he never would have embraced without my assistance, without my coaching.
Douglas: What the hell is he talking about?
Mayne: I think he makes perfect sense.
Dan: You think the plot of Swordfish makes perfect sense!
The Dark Man seems to take joy in expressing his madness to an increasingly agitated crowd.
Desolation: He would have gone through life continuing to be a gutless coward, incapable of following through, incapable of doing whatever it takes to finish the job if it weren’t for me. For weeks he hesitated and it cost him, but on the last Riot! he finally embraced the side of himself that I’ve been trying to introduce him to for so very long. Thanks to my attacks on those he loves, thanks to the violence I’ve perpetuated against him week after week, he’s changed, and for the better. No longer is he the weak, feeble minded boy next door that all the fans just adore. No, no, now he’s twisted, now he’s depraved, now he’s come full circle and his path to redemption is almost realized. He’s an entirely different person, and it’s all thanks to me. And for my selfless acts in the art of molding him into a monster just like me, I don’t ask much, just for a simple, thank you Desolation.
Douglas: He can’t be serious.
Mayne: Of course he is, if you spent so much time on a lost cause and finally got them to turn around, wouldn’t you desire a thank you? Well, actually, I’d probably want money, and lots of alcohol to help me forget all that hard work, but hey, that’s just me.
Desolation: Although I realize that Rich won’t fess up to his actions last week out of fear of losing his precious Last Man Standing match against me at Extinction given our zero physical contact rule, I think we can drop the pretenses and cut through the games straight to the heart of the matter. For all my hard work Jon, for all the time I spent making you realize that life wasn’t chalk full of love, puppy dogs, candy canes and rainbows, I just want you to come through those curtains, march to this ring and thank me. Thank me for grooming you into the man you’ve become today, into the twisted, sadistic son of a bitch that now stands an actual chance of posing a worthwhile challenge to yours truly. So come on out Jon, and pay homage to your maker, to your creator.
Mayne: Desolation is just such a noble, honorable, and humble gentlemen, he’ll be happy with a mere handshake. He should make Jon drop to his knees and lick his boots like he tried to force Too Magnificent to do a few weeks ago.
Douglas: This is balderdash! Absolute….
Billy: Whoa, whoa, whoa, did you just say balderdash? Who in the hell says that anymore?
The fans are continuing to express their outrage as Desolation slowly rises to his feet in the corner and thrusts out his palm as a visual cue for what he desires.
Desolation: Its time Jon, now that I’ve taught you to….
”Unbreakable” by Bon Jovi rips throughout the packed Manhattan Center and sends the crowd into a frenzy, everyone jumping up and down as they thrust their hands high above their heads. Desolation just watches on apathetically from the ring, yet the slightest traces of a grin appear to be fighting their way to his cold features. The lights have raised to their regular setting to illuminate the figure now standing on the stage, bursting through the curtains with no hesitation. Jon Rich has truly emerged, examining his surroundings with tension in his one eye, the other still hidden behind a layer of bandaging. The Dark Man continues to observe Rich’s arrival with a titled head, yet doesn’t budge from the corner, keeping his spine pressed against the turnbuckle. Rich now moves straight towards the ring and upon reaching the end of the ramp snaps his fingers, a microphone quickly being placed in his palm by ring announcer Kaily Wolf, who rushed into the fray just in time to make the hand off. As Jon rises onto the apron, Desolation finally steps out of the corner in a slow, methodical and amused manner, tossing the No Holds Barred title over his shoulder so that it is more distinguishable.
Mayne: Well this is mighty gracious of Rich, he’s come out here to shake Desolation’s hand. I still hate him more than a cist on my ass, but I can give props occasionally.
Dan: Yes, I do think the Alpha Generation are more than grateful for your constant ass kissing. Somehow I don’t think Jon Rich is here to shake Desolation’s hand and show him any kind of gratitude.
Billy: Why that deceitful little bastard. How condescending of him.
Douglas: You sat through ten minutes of Desolation demanding a handshake as repayment for ruining Jon’s life, and you have the audacity to call Rich condescending?
A surprisingly docile Rich slips through the ropes into the ring even as his eye catches a glimpse of the title that was taken from him at Breathless, now hanging over Desolation’s thick shoulder. Although he’s overwhelmed with passionate rage, he tries to remain as calm as possible, not wanting to lose his match against Desolation at Extinction by giving into his homicidal tendencies right here and right now. This is made all the more difficult every time Rich glances at the condescending smirk on Desolation’s face.
Desolation: I must admit that it takes a big man to come out here and shake my hand after all I’ve done to them in the past. I’m just glad you could see through your blinding, no pun intended, hatred of me in order embrace the gift I gave you, and to be truly grateful for all that I’ve taught you these past some 4 months. So let’s not sit here and delay the inevitable with cheesy dialogue bearing the intention of building up our Last Man Standing match at Extinction as our last great hoorah, and instead you just shake my hand now.
The hand is extended outwards once more, while the deviousness embedded deeply within Desolation’s soul is shinning through. It’s almost apparent that he intends on not having Jon shake his hand at all, even though he has it out there hanging on a limb. As he’s forced to listen to each and every diluted syllable emanating from the Dark Man’s mouth, Jon paces, his head lowered and his teeth gnawing at his lower lip. Finally, when the one eye that Desolation hasn’t destroyed catches sight of the extended hand Jon seems to have reached his boiling point.
Jon: It’s funny Desolation, you knew when you came out here that I would never shake your hand, and it’s not really your intention to have me do so. All your wonderfully witty dialogue wasn’t designed to get me to express appreciation for your actions over the past few months, but to get in my head, to get me all worked up. But what’s funny about it, is that in all your idiotic rambling and ranting, you said something that made sense, you said some things that struck a cord within me. Deep down inside I am grateful Desolation, because this feud with you has taught me something.
Desolation finally lowers his hand and feigns intrigue as his opponent points in his face and steps dangerously close.
Rich: All this rage you’ve apparently introduced me to, this dark side that’s been awoken in my soul that you’ve been bragging about, has taught me an all too valuable lesson. That I’m not like you, and I will never become you.
As Rich gets almost nose to nose with his arch rival and speaks these words with conviction the crowd rallies in support of him. All the while Desolation doesn’t back or even flinch when faced with his highly intense opposition.
Jon: Although part of me has changed thanks to this bloody rivalry with you, I can still go back and pick up the pieces of my old life. I don’t have to go around until the day I die with hatred in my heart and clouding my judgment like you do. I don’t have to continue carrying the traits of an antisocial personality. You have altered me, you have made a monster that will destroy his creator in the Last Man Standing match at Extinction, but unlike you, I haven’t passed the point of no return. So all your attempts to irreversibly alter my persona have been for nothing, because I’m only going to be homicidal, I’m only going to be rabidly intense, I’m only going to be a monster, until I have finished what we started so long ago. You may have ravaged my mind, but you can never destroy my heart. You can staple me in the eye, you can curb stomp the woman I love, and you can Brand X me on top the roofs of limos, but blood will always beat through this heart. That is the only reason I came out here, and that is the only reason I’ll ever be grateful to you. Because you’ve given me just enough motivation, just enough passion, and just enough rage to defeat you come Sunday!
Desolation glares into the eyes of Jon without even the slightest display of emotion.
Desolation: How wonderfully elegant.
The fans are sitting on the edges of their seats as Rich gets even closer to Desolation’s face, both men seconds away from inflicting brutality upon each other. Neither man budges though, recalling the zero tolerance stipulation against them leading into the pay-per-view. Suddenly Rich is shoved forward, his head cracking into Desolation’s as both men tumble to the mats, the former N.H.B Champion coming on top of the man now in possession of his belt. The crowd is shocked at the sight of Axl Evermore now standing in the ring, watching as both Rich and Desolation instinctively begin to throw punches into one another’s furious frames.
Douglas: Jon Rich just got done saying his peace and when it became obvious that he wasn’t going to come to blows with Desolation, Evermore comes out of nowhere and shoves them into each other!
Mayne: They’re coming to blows now as a result, does that mean they lose their Last Man Standing match at Extinction!?! Which would be okay by me, considering I wouldn’t have to wear a helmet to ringside, which is horrible since I get terrible hat hair.
Desolation rolls on top of Rich and begins to slug him in the face over and over again with closed fists. Somehow Rich is able to get an elbow up into the side of his face, knocking the Dark Man over onto the ring side first. All the while Evermore watches what he set in motion, realizing that he’ll have to get his match against Desolation now, since he just caused Rich and the Dark Man to come to blows with one another. The fans are screaming as they watch Jon Rich and Desolation continue to inflict violence on another, both men trying to destroy each other just a short while removed from their Last Man Standing match, if they’ll still receive participate in it that is. Rich drills Desolation to the side of the face with repeated elbows now as the Dark Man rolls instinctively under the ropes, more so knocked to the outside of the ring than anything else. He lands on his feet and places his palm over his forehead, obviously in disarray after that accident headbunt from Rich, who rises to a standing base in the ring. He glares over the ropes at Desolation when Evermore steps up behind him, grabbing Jon by the shoulder. As soon as Rich turns to face his opponent later tonight, Evermore gives him a thumbs up, liking what he’s seeing from Jon, pretending to be supportive. That’s when Jon drills Axl to the jaw with a closed fist, Evermore responding with a shot of his own and the fans going even more insane as a result. All the while Desolation reaches under the ropes, taking his N.H.B title belt and throwing it over his shoulder once again as he staggers up the ramp.
Douglas: Now Rich is coming to blows with the manipulative Evermore! These opening moments to the final Riot! before Extinction just continue to get more chaotic by the second!
Mayne: Can’t we ever just have one normal, peaceful opening that doesn’t involve bloodshed? That be wonderful, thanks.
The Dark Man is still frazzled, batting his eyes as he tries to get his head straight, staggering up the ramp in reverse. Axl and Rich, opponents later tonight, are still lobbing jabs into each other’s jaws when….
AWOL: BOYS, boys, boys, calm down, calm down, calm down!
Surprisingly the request seems to settle hostilities between Rich and Evermore even if for a fleeting moment as their eyes confusingly twist to take in the sight of the titontron positioned over the entry way. Desolation has paused on the ramp and finds himself glaring at the big screen as well, where an image of AWOL is situated. It’s obvious that the surprisingly well dressed GM is located in a shadowy area backstage, with a giant mesh wall erected behind his spine. His intervention is not well received by the capacity crowd.
Douglas: GM AWOL intervening in this opening violence. It’s about time someone did something.
Mayne: Indeed, I was just about to hide under the announce table again, and surprisingly there’s not a lot of room down there.
AWOL shakes his head as he stares into the camera backstage, closing his eyes and mumbling some obscenities under his breath.
AWOL: I just can’t leave you ungrateful little shits alone for five seconds can I? The second I turn my back you all start to generically brawl with one another even though I laid down rules that explicitly barred any physical contact between Desolation and Jon Rich until Extinction. Yet like two lesbos in a three way you two just can’t seem to keep your hands off one another and thus ruin the entertainment value for the third party. And now Evermore is pestering me about doing battle with Desolation as well, and naturally when I tell him he’ll have to wait till Rich and Desolation have settled their issues he goes behind my back and tries to undermine my authority by getting Jon and the Dark Man to throw fisticuffs with one another and thus get their match cancelled, all with the misguided hope that I’ll slide him into a match with Desolation instead of Rich as a result. Isn’t that just wonderful, how splendid to have such terribly disobedient individuals performing as part of my roster. Well, I guess I’ll have to put my foot down again and hope someone has the smarts to listen to me for a change.
Mayne: Why must he keep rambling?
Douglas: When your in a position of power you can pretty much do anything Billy.
Jon and Evermore seem to be growing bored waiting for AWOL to get to his point, all revved up and ready to fight. Desolation uses this distraction to give his head some time to heal before he gets in the ring and finishes off both his rivals. AWOL could care less what either of the men’s motives are as he continues to beat around the bush. All the while the camera pans out to reveal that a cage has been erected backstage around nothing more than an empty patch of concrete.
AWOL: But for once I’ve decided to contradict an earlier decision of mine. Since you three can’t seem to stay away from one another, and putting you all in different corners won’t help, although you all possess adolescent mentalities, I’ve decided to lift the physical prohibition rule I set in place a few weeks ago.
Both the Dark Man and Jon nod, rather enjoying the prospect of legally brawling with one another whenever the opportunity presents itself.
AWOL: I’m not finished yet though, oh no, lord knows how I enjoy hearing the sound of my own voice. You see, as of late I’ve been trying to keep up with Sallie and Krissie, my co-bosses if you will. Tonight they had this big cage erected backstage for symbolic purposes or something, I think they’re bleeding from the crotches again or something if they think this will increase buyrates for Extinction. Anyway, since they had this cage assembled back here, I thought I’d do something similar, therefore I had a smaller, human sized cage prepared.
In a Vanna White style pose AWOL drawls attention to a much smaller cage, looking like a cell made of steel mesh and loaded on top of rollers. The camera pans out just slightly to reveal its whereabouts in close proximity to the General Manager.
AWOL: And sense Sallie and Krissie think they can get away with booking ridiculous, albeit hilarious stipulation matches involving Orlando Cruze, then I figured I should be doing the same thing. But since Orlando isn’t here tonight which should provide a wonderful break from the melodrama, Desolation becomes the lucky participant in my wonderfully overbooked concept. Therefore tonight, when Jon Rich and Axl Evermore go one on one the winner of that bout will receive 5 minutes in the ring with Desolation, who will be locked in this cell here until he’s freed to get his ass kicked.
The Dark Man chuckles and shouts something towards the big screen.
Desolation: Not a chance in hell you can make me do that. I’ll quit before I follow your fucking orders!
All the while Evermore and Rich become even more amused than ever, enjoying the prospect of getting five minutes with Desolation in the ring, unrestricted.
Mayne: What!?! AWOL can’t do this, he can’t force Desolation into that cage! What is he thinking?
Dan: If Sallie and Krissie can force Cruze to compete in handcuffs, AWOL can make Desolation get in that cage and wait till either Rich or Evermore win the opportunity to face him tonight.
Billy: This is wrong, the only people who belong in cages are criminals, or sexy dancers, or my mom when she drinks too much eggnog.
AWOL tilts his head and grins proudly at his idea.
AWOL: That should make everything just wonderfully overbooked tonight. Enjoy gentlemen, because I’m sure I won’t without the use of a lot of bourbon or a lot of mind altering drugs.
The big screen goes black while Evermore and Rich slowly turn their attention towards one another, realizing just how much bigger their match became tonight. That’s before both their sights adjusted to encompass the sight of the Dark Man standing on the ramp, a malicious grin settling on his unsettling face while he slowly lifts the No Holds Barred title into the air.
Douglas: This night just got a whole lot more crazy Billy.
Mayne: It just got a whole lot more retarded is what it got Dan. I’m talking Kathy Griffin style retarded.
The tense three way stare down continues as the show cuts to commercial break, leaving the fans anxious to see what transpires when the Dark Man is trapped in the cage and his opponents clash for the opportunity to face him later tonight.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
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PSYCHO VS. SILENCER
"Go Ahead... Silence Me..."
The words echo throughout the arena, as the lights slowly fade out, replaced by a dull red. The fans grow restless, as the video screen flickers to life. The video screen shows Orlando Cruze against Silencer for the world championship, when all of a sudden, Silencer hits 'Break the Silence' on Orlando, and the words "SILENCED" appear across the video screen. Several others follow, such as Nathan Creed, Desolation, and Killjoy.
Finally, music starts to play, as the lights start to flicker. A single flame lights up on the ramp. It starts to pulse along with the beat of the music, until the music picks up, and then the flame explodes, quickly dying down, and leaving Silencer standing alone on the stage, covered in black and white tights, along with face-paint and a large bandage over his still stitched up head wound. He looks around at the crowd, with a half smile on his face, before bowing his head, and slowly walking toward the ring. He stops every so often to bask in the cheers of the fans, and smiles at the people holding his signs.
He reaches the ring, and closes his eyes, before breathing deeply... He sways his head back and fourth a little, getting himself psyched up a little in his mind, and then climbs into the ring. When in the ring, he spins in a circle, looking at the fans around him before shaking his head. He stops dead in his tracks, and lowers himself to his knees in the middle of the ring, before crossing his arms over his chest, and emitting a scream from his painted lips... He falls forward, as the lights turn back to normal, however, this is short lived, as a loud explosion emits from the rafters, followed by a deep-red pyro showering down upon the ring, bathing Silencer, and the ring in a blood-red glow. Silencer stands, and walks to his corner, looking at the fans, uninterested by the rest going on around him.
Douglas: And what a way to kick off tonight’s in ring action Billy, former World Heavyweight Champion Silencer about to clash one on one with Psycho. We’ve definitely seen a much more vicious Silencer since he returned here to the IWC, as evident by that bandage covering his forehead due to those lethal headbunts he was throwing into David Miller’s cranium last week.
Mayne: If I hear you refer to Silencer as a former World Heavyweight Champion one more time I swear to God I’m going to vomit. And it will be that straight up Linda Blare style vomit, that drenches you from head to toe in mashed up green peas. This man does not deserve the recognition of being referred to constantly as a former World Champion, especially based on his atrocious behavior last week. All Miller was trying to do was put on a fair bout with Silencer in that 6 person tag, and what does Silencer do, he crosses the line, blatantly cheating again and again.
Dan: I’d actually welcome being covered in green vomit rather than listening to you moan and groan endlessly about how much you despise Silencer, or anyone even remotely likeable here in the IWC.
Mayne: Impossible, there’s only one likeable person in this company, his name is Billy Mayne and dammit if I don’t love the hell out of myself.
Douglas: Which would explain the blisters on your palms.
Silencer continues to look disinterested in the world around him while he moves solemnly around the ring, something twisted going beneath his cold eyes. 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 Silencer glares at him from across the ring with no emotion displayed on his features.
Mayne: Is it just me or does Psycho somehow reinvent a way to go crazy every couple of years? First he was just generally loony, then he started streaking through buildings and stripping to Chip & Dale music, then he went homicidal since his face was almost burnt off by his Extinction opponent Hurse, and now he’s being pulled in more directions than myself when I try to chose between a steak or a cheese burger. When will this man ever get serious psychological help?
Douglas: Sadly, not until he’s able to get AWOL off his back in terms of this Robin Brooks situation. The GM has been infuriated with Robin since she shooting star pressed Psycho at Extinction and cost AWOL’s team the match against the Alpha Generation. Now Psycho, rather he wants to or not, is being forced to take it upon his shoulders to purge the IWC of Robin’s presence, which led to that frightening scene last week where he was threatening to throw Brooks off the top of the Manhattan Center. Not to mention the stuff that transpired last week with Michelle Blacker.
Billy: You see, AWOL holds grudges, that’s exactly why he put Desolation in this ridiculous stipulation later tonight involving Jon Rich, Axl Evermore, and a miniature cell.
Dan: Sometimes AWOL has brief moments of clarity and diabolical genius, but most the time yes, he is quite an asshole. But enough compliments, let’s prepare ourselves for a match that is more than meets the eye. This isn’t just a thrown together singles bout with no history mind you, because it was Psycho who ended Silencer’s World Heavyweight title reign all those years ago.
Silencer slowly steps out of the corner, bending down and trying to look into Psycho’s eyes while he just stares forward emotionlessly. His tensed frame trembles a little while now mumbling something under his breath, all of which having nothing to do with Silencer. That’s when the bell rings and Psycho slowly rises to his feet, glaring down at the canvas and moving slowly across the ring in Silencer’s direction. He looks like a shell of his former self, no anticipation for this match whatsoever. This seems to not be to Silencer’s liking, stepping towards Psycho and slapping him lightly on the side of his face, trying to wake him up but in the process enraging the Sadistic One. Psycho steps in with a punch aimed at Silencer’s face, which he quickly ducks under to avoid. Immediately after missing Psycho turns around as Silencer jumps into the air, blasting him to the jaw with a forearm strike, then doing it again. The blows stagger the heavy competitor as Silencer spins around and jumps into a discus style forearm to the jaw of his portly opponent. With Psycho reeling Silencer builds some confidence, although it could be considered an oxymoron to put the words Silencer and confidence into the same sentence. The former Champion rushes into the cables backwards, bouncing off of them and then coming back in at Psycho who steps forward, placing his hands to his opponent’s chest and stomach. He throws Silencer up into the air to ungodly heights before he comes tumbling down into a crash across the canvas.
Mayne: Silencer flying through the air like a pigeon wearing mascara and meeting with a gruesome end.
Douglas: Hold on, did you just say like a pigeon wearing mascara?
Billy: You try to be clever with every line of dialogue. It’s hard, just like sitting through Tori Spelling’s acting.
Silencer is holding his ribs with both arms as he pushes himself up to his feet, but as soon as he stands Psycho rushes in, taking him around the head into a swinging neckbreaker. Silencer crashes into the canvas with a violent thud, beginning to convulse against the ring while Psycho turns towards him, crawling quickly on top of his opponent. Instead of going for a pin he straddles Silencer’s chest, beginning to deck him repeatedly to the forehead with closed fists. The official steps in, requesting that Psycho stop this, yet he won’t listen to a single word from the referee, instead finding some slight solace with each jab to the face of his laid out opponent. Psycho takes Silencer by the hair just as the official started to commence with a five count, forcing his opposition up to his feet and then wrapping his hands around his throat. Displaying his strength, Psycho throws Silencer across the ring back first against the corner, his nimble frame hitting it with great force. As soon as he does Psycho comes rushing in with a roar and an extension of his boot aimed directly at Silencer’s face, which he surprisingly ducks out of the way of. Psycho’s leg goes over the top of the turnbuckle as a result, almost crotching himself against it as Silencer steps up behind him and delivers a swift kick to the back of his other thigh. He now jumps into the air and dropkicks the back of Psycho’s knee, attempting to cut him down to size.
Psycho reaches for his leg and grimaces in pain as he turns, falling back first against the corner for support. All the while Silencer goes into a head stand after the dropkick, flipping up and out of it onto his feet then turning towards his situated opponent, rushing in with a jumping forearm smash directly to his face. Psycho’s arms fall over the cables, becoming dazed while Silencer backs out of the corner then comes rushing in, jumping into the air for a spinning leg lariat to his sternum. Shockingly Psycho reaches out, catching the leg across his chest and wrapping his arm around Silencer’s back, lifting him up off the canvas while rushing across the ring. He seems intent on throwing him down to the canvas to inflict great damage when Silencer twists his body, surprisingly slipping over Psycho’s head and down his back. Silencer drops down under Psycho and wraps his arms around his waist, trying to pull him down into the sunset flip. An intense Psycho flails his arms, trying to keep his rotund frame upright until he realizes what fortunate position he’s in here. He opts to jump into the air, all his weight coming down with his back side aimed at Silencer’s sternum. At the last second Silencer rolls out of the way, Psycho crashing to the canvas posterior first, roaring in pain as his opponent stands up behind him and jumps over his head. Silencer ducks into a roll, ending up on his feet then turning towards his aching opponent. The ever so sudden Silencer rushes straight at him and delivering a brutal dropkick right to his face.
Dan: A painful landing by psycho, followed by an even more painful dropkick to his face.
Mayne: I’ve landed on my backside like that before, and it doesn’t help when I’m huge genitals got trapped under my posterior before I landed. My testicles are flatter than Meg Ryan’s chest.
Douglas: That’s a wonderful visual Billy. But you can definitely see just how unstable Psycho is the longer this match goes. He didn’t develop a strategy at all, the second he was playfully slapped to the face he absolutely snapped.
Billy: Oh great, I pray this doesn’t lead to a Festus gimmick.
Psycho is laid out on his back while Silencer stands up at his side then rushes at the cables, jumping onto the second one and springing off as he twists in mid-air, going for a leg drop. Suddenly Psycho rolls out of the way this time, causing Silencer to land posterior first on the canvas while the beast rises to his feet at his side. Psycho now rushes forward directly at his seated opponent who surprisingly rolls towards him, causing the giant to have to jump over his tiny frame and charge into the opposite ropes. He bounces off and comes back in at Silencer who stands, jumping into the air in an attempt to leapfrog his massive opponent, who shockingly catches him by the leg as he charges under him. The Sadistic Savage plucks Silencer out of the air, dragging him down face first into the canvas with a modification of the flapjack. His battered frame crashes hard into the ring before he rolls onto his back, Psycho standing up then charging forward as he immediately jumps into the air, coming down with a big knee right to the small cranium of his opponent. Silencer sits up, wrapping his hands around his possibly cracked skull while Psycho stands up behind him. He moves in and drops down behind Silencer’s back, hooking one of his arms then extending his leg, placing his foot between both of his opponent’s thighs, applying a seated abdominal stretch. A very painful expression comes over Silencer’s painted features as he’s forced to endure this quick submission attempt from the violent giant.
The crowd is having a loud mixed reaction as a response while Psycho licks his lips, getting some type of depraved satisfaction from the agony he knows is now coursing through Silencer’s already battered body. Kicking his legs doesn’t seem to help, as the smaller competitor extends his ankles for the ropes, which are way to far off. Silencer begins to rock his body now, attempting to find a way to jostle himself free from his predicament, which he surprisingly begins to accomplish. He begins to actually bridge his way up off his seat, causing Psycho to rise a little as well, just enough for Silencer to free himself by dropping to the canvas once again. As soon as he does, he lifts one of his legs into the air, kicking Psycho directly between the eyes. The Sadistic Savage is knocked through a loop by such a kick until Silencer nips up directly onto his feet and then spins around, rushing at Psycho before connecting with a step enzugari directly to the back of his head. The crowd reacts with shock at the sound of such a stiff kick which knocks Psycho down to his elbows and knees, attempting to shake off the effects of such a shot. Silencer gives him no recovery time, stepping up onto Psycho’s back and then flipping over in reverse into a standing moonsault. Shockingly Psycho rolls onto his back and gets his knees up in time for his opponent to crash sternum first into them. Silencer stands up, holding his possibly busted ribs and staggering in reverse, somehow remaining on his feet. That’s when Psycho gets up and comes rushing in while holding the back of his head, yet charges directly into a jumping reverse heel kick directly to his face. Psycho is almost knocked to the canvas as he staggers in reverse, flailing his arms to stay upright while Silencer rolls over backwards onto his feet then rushes forward with a battlecry. As soon as he does this Psycho catches him with a vicious spinning powerslam into the pin.
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Silencer kicks out just in the nick of time.
Douglas: Silencer kicked out and again just when he was starting to build up some momentum, Psycho cut him off with that vicious spinning powerslam.
Mayne: Psycho is all hyped up on something or other. Maybe insanity makes you a better in ring competitor, and here I thought you should at least learn in ring fundamentals to give you the edge.
Dan: Well, that and having a high pain threshold will get you places.
Billy: Yes, they’re called institutions.
A now even more bitter Psycho rises to his feet and rushes forward, jumping into the air as he extends his back, dropping it directly into Silencer’s mid-section. Silencer convulses while the Sadistic One leans back into the cover again.
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Again the former Champion kicks out, barely getting his shoulder up in time. Somehow Psycho is increasingly becoming more and more deranged with every time Silencer shoots his shoulder defiantly from the canvas. This results in him rising and taking the hair of his nimble opponent, forcing him up to his feet then burying his shoulder into his ribs. Psycho lifts Silencer into the air and charges him backwards, driving him spine first directly into the corner. The battered body of his opponent is barely able to remain upright before Psycho takes him under the arm and by the back of the head, charging him out of the turnbuckle then throwing him with a huge hip toss half way across the ring. Silencer comes crashing down across his back, arching it from the canvas and roaring in agony as a result. The fans cover their mouths over the way his body was driven into the canvas from such a height while Psycho gives them something more to scream about. He steps up behind the seated Silencer, hooking both of his arms then lifting him up into the air, as soon as he lands on his feet Psycho drops back, flipping him over in reverse into a release dragon suplex. The light frame of the former Champion flips completely over before coming down face first into the ring. He bounces off the ring with force then rolls onto his back, completely laid out at this point as Psycho crawls into the cover on him.
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Silencer shoots his shoulder from the canvas once again, leaving the Sadistic Savage more outraged than ever. Psycho steps towards Silencer, reaching down and taking hold of his ankle, lifting up on it and causing him to roll over backwards onto his knees, allowing an easier path to his exposed cranium. Psycho quickly takes him around the neck, placing him in a front chancery then lifting him up into the air in a vertical suplex position with one arm only. Just then he rushes across the ring and throws Silencer forward onto the top rope, his ribs bouncing off of the cables violently. As soon as he collides with them his light frame is sent ricocheting off, flying into the air then spilling to the outside mats side first.
Douglas: Psycho is just imposing his physical will on Silencer, who hasn’t been able to get himself back into this match as of yet. It’s been a while since I’ve seen such intensity from Psycho, who I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention is a former World Champion as well. I bring that up since he’s showing the same primal aggression that made him defeat Silencer for the title in the first place all those years ago.
Mayne: How do you remember all this useless dribble, who cares who’s been a former World Champion and who hasn’t, the belt never had any credibility until Desolation won it. Before the Dark Man, and now the Master of Control’s title reigns, the belt was basically just a big dashboard decoration, going right between the fuzzy dice and the dancing Hawaiian chick who just turned me on for some strange reason.
Silencer is still spread across the mats, barely able to move his very busted up frame, yet doing so anyway as he forces himself to his feet. As soon as he gets up though, Psycho rolls out of the ring, stepping up behind him and taking the back of his head, charging him at the announce table then slamming him face first right into it. Silencer’s skull collides with a violent thud off the hard table while Psycho bends forward, wedging his shoulder against his gut and hoisting him into the air. He rushes forward and throws Silencer spine first directly into the apron, his back bending awkwardly around it. Silencer staggers forward in tremendous pain until he walks right into a kick to the gut, doubling him over as Psycho steps over his head and wraps his arms around his waist. Exerting only a bit of his strength Psycho lifts Silencer into the air and onto his shoulders, looking to powerbomb his opponent directly back first onto the hard apron. Somehow he’s able to become coherent long enough to fight out of this predicament, placing his hands to the top of his opponent’s head then pushing himself up and over top of it. Silencer lands on his feet behind Psycho who turns to face him in outrage, rushing right into a drop toe hold that sends the monster tumbling forward face first directly into the hard announce table. His skull crashes off of it violently before he tumbles onto his back, Silencer utilizing the table to drag his tired, limp body to his feet.
Mayne: Well, I think Psycho just became a little more hideous thanks to that introduction with the announce table. Now he’s got the looks of Steve Buscemi mixed with Janet Reno.
Douglas: Silencer finally getting in some offense against his monstrous opposition, if he wants to have any chance in this match he’s got to keep this sustained.
Silencer is holding his spine as he crawls away from Psycho, who is trying to utilize the announce table to force his increasingly tired frame to his feet. As his adversary stands Silencer pulls himself up onto the apron, and now begins to climb the turnbuckle, getting to the very top rope. Psycho finally gets his feet beneath him when he turns towards Silencer who flies from the very top rope, soaring gracefully through the air into a body splash right on top of his opponent. The crowd goes nuts as both men slam into the mats with force, Silencer rolling away from his opponent with his hand going over his lower back almost immediately.
Douglas: What a sensational dive from Silencer!
Mayne: Meh, I’ve seen better dives from um, uh, hmmm, ballerinas?
Dan: Keep trying Billy.
The fans are still slapping the barricades and stomping their feet as a result of that chaotic dive from Silencer onto Psycho in what has been an intense opening contest to the final Riot! before Extinction. The tired former Champ drags himself to his feet as he turns towards Psycho, trying to do the same. Just as his opponent gets to one knee Silencer delivers a hard shin kick right to the side of his head. The force of the blast almost removes him from his knees, yet he remains upright just long enough for Silencer to take him by the hair and drag him to his feet. He pulls him towards the ring and rolls him in under the ropes at this point, Psycho ending up on his back in a very groggy state. Silencer is shocked that he got him into the ring with such relative ease given their vast weight different, but chooses not to think about it as he jumps onto the apron, grabbing the top rope and laying in wait. All the while Psycho is struggling to reach his feet in the ring, and just as he does Silencer springs to the top rope and takes flight, soaring through the air for a seated senton. Somehow Psycho has the wherewithal to catch him on his shoulders and drop into a sit-out powerbomb, causing the fans to react with shock and awe. Psycho’s shoulders are buried into the back of Silencer’s legs as the official makes the count once again.
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Silencer shoots his shoulder from the canvas, but just as he does Psycho stands and drags him over onto his chest, sitting on his back and establishing the liontamer. Groans of pain emanate from Psycho as he pushes himself up onto his elbows, some of his face-paint melting away due to the increasingly thick sweat dripping down his features. No matter how much pain he is in though, Silencer refuses to acknowledge that buried temptation to tap, instead forcing himself across the ring towards those ever allusive ropes. The Sadistic Savage keeps hold of the trapped legs, sitting down further on the spine in an attempt to force that submission, yet unable to achieve it, Silencer much to determined to get to the cables. He remains on his elbows while feeling agony slip through his frame from head to toe, pulling himself closer and closer to the cables which are just too far away. His fingers squeeze the canvas, trying to get any traction he can to help him towards the ropes in a more expedient manner while Psycho shakes his head, grumbling under his breath.
The fans are slapping the barricades, rallying behind Silencer surprisingly as he gets closer and closer to those cables, which seem to him to be separated from his battered frame by miles. He doesn’t give up though, continuing to scrape and claw towards the ropes with his body giving out but his heart remaining steadfast. That’s when his hand reaches out, taking the bottom cable, saving himself from this misery and as a result creating further hostility in the demented soul of his opposition.
Douglas: Silencer making it to the ropes after an endless struggle.
Mayne: This whole match has seemed endless, you guys were put in the opener to stink up the place not steal the show, so stop trying!
Dan: What a wonderful mentality.
Billy: Thanks?
Psycho scowls in the direction of the official then turns towards the slowly rising Silencer, who is clasping at the ropes to reach his feet. That’s when the Sadistic One bends forward, burying his shoulder firmly into Silencer’s back then lifting him into the air for some type of suplex. As he’s lifted into the air Silencer shifts his weight, instead wrapping his arm around Psycho’s neck then falling forward, dragging the savage throat first down into the top rope with a version of the bulldog. Silencer falls over the cables but turns, gracefully landing on the apron then turning to face Psycho who staggers in reverse, holding his throat with both hands. Although aching Silencer jumps into the air while keeping hold of the top rope and twists his body, landing shins first on top of Psycho’s shoulders, going for a head scissors. Psycho places his hands to Silencer’s shins though, pushing them off his shoulders and causing his opponent to have to twist in mid-air as he once again lands feet first on the apron. The deranged Sadistic One rushes forward now when Silencer bends down and drives his shoulder through the cables right into the protruding gut of his opponent. Psycho is bent forward as a result, his head going through the ropes as Silencer backs up then rushes forward, jumping into the air as he places his leg across the back of his opponent’s head, giving him almost a modified fameouser that drops him throat first against the cables yet again. The move meets with the same effect, Psycho staggering backwards a bit with his hands over his throat while Silencer stands up on the opposite side of the ropes and jumps into the air. He twists with his body while still gripping the top rope and lands shins first on the shoulders of his opponent, letting go of the cable then twisting around into a huge head scissors. Psycho is sent flipping forward, crashing against the ring spine first and then rolling to his knees in pain.
Mayne: Damn Silencer’s speed advantage, he makes a Cheetah look slow, and slightly more appeasing to the eye. Hahahaha, I crack myself up.
Douglas: Something is cracked in your head, that’s for sure.
Billy: Hey, I’m very sensitive about that. It’s not my fault I was obligated to wear a helmet and water wings everywhere I went till I was 13 years old, I was a clumsy child dammit.
The crowd applauds as Silencer hits the move he was looking for a few seconds ago and now rolls across the ring to his feet. He motions for Psycho to get up, which is exactly what the brute is starting to do before he’s jabbed to the face with a closed fist, followed by another hard strike. Each blow knocks Psycho down a peg, yet he’s still getting right back up, distressing his staunchly determined opponent. Silencer rushes forward for another punch but Psycho sidesteps him, placing his hands to his back and shoving him forward into the cables. Silencer charges into them and bounces off back first, ricocheting off right at his opponent, who drops to his chest and stomach to avoid him. The quick Silencer goes into a cartwheel over top of Psycho, ending up on his feet as the beast rises to a standing base then charges right into a huge dropkick directly to the face. Psycho crashes to the canvas with Silencer coming down beside him, crawling with cat like quickness into the cover.
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Psycho presses Silencer off of him, sending him flying through the air then landing on his elbows and knees. A stunned expression comes to Silencer’s face, unable to believe that Psycho just out of that pinfall after all he was hit with. The battered brute rolls to his elbows and knees, beginning to stand up slowly as Silencer steps in and slaps him across one side of the face, then does it to the other cheek. Psycho is almost taken down as a result before he places his hands to his opponent’s ribs and again sends him charging backwards into the ropes. This time Silencer jumps into the air in reverse, landing feet first on the second rope then flying off and tumbling down on top of Psycho’s chest, hitting him with a seated senton. Both men comes crashing down to the canvas with Silencer remaining seated on Psycho’s sternum, lifting up on one of his legs for the pin.
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Psycho gets his shoulder up once more, sending Silencer rolling over backwards right on his feet. Psycho is doing the same in front of him, getting to his knees when the former Champion comes charging in only to be caught on the shoulders of his massive opponent, hoisted into the air then planted with the Samoan drop. Silencer’s frame collides against the canvas with tremendous force as Psycho turns onto his knees, sweating profusely at this point. He now takes hold of Silencer’s spiky hair, rolling him to his knees then dragging him to his feet as he slaps his thick around his waist. Psycho drops in reverse, flipping his opponent over into a big belly to belly suplex, his frame crashing with force against the canvas, leaving him once again incapacitated, and in a prone position for the rising behemoth. Although exhausted, Psycho steps over top of the damaged frame of his opponent, moving sluggishly towards the corner and beginning to climb it slowly. His wide back is aimed towards Silencer as he gets closer and closer to the top rope.
Douglas: After a tremendous series of moves between these two, Psycho is now scaling to the top, and God help us, who knows what he’s got in store.
Mayne: I do, he’s going for the moonsault, his move repertoire is almost as limited as his dialogue.
Psycho reaches the top rope now with Silencer still completely spent on the canvas and now flips over backwards right into a huge moonsault. All of his weight soars gracefully through the air then comes crashing down with tremendous force directly into the canvas. Silencer rolled out of the way just in the nick of time, avoiding being crushed beneath the incredible weight of his opposition, who stumbles and staggers to his feet. Just as he gets up Silencer comes charging in only for Psycho to suddenly boot him directly to the testicles. As a result Silencer is sent flying upward into the air then turning as he crashes onto his back, rolling around with his hands cupping his private area. The crowd is shocked by what they just witnessed as the official steps in, threatening Psycho with disqualification for what he just did. However, Psycho can care less as he steps towards Silencer, grabbing his legs, lifting them into the air then dropping forward head first right into his testicles once again. Silencer sits up, holding his genitalia as the official becomes irate, turning and motioning for the bell, insisting that Psycho has been disqualified as a result of his actions. Silencer rolls across the ring with his hands cupping his testicles, spilling under the ropes to the outside of the ring.
Douglas: Psycho with two blatant low blows in a roll on Silencer! Why the hell did he do that!?!
Mayne: Talk about your out of the blow conclusion. I’m guessing Psycho has just snapped, again, after he missed with that moonsault. He got too frustrated that nothing would finish Silencer off or something. I’m kind of just speculating with nothing to back up my accusations.
Dan: That’s all you ever do. But I can’t believe the way this phenomenal match has ended here tonight.
Silencer has rolled out of the ring, dropping to his knees and appearing absolutely exhausted with his paint dropping off of his face and his hand holding his genitals. The camera comes up close to him while his depraved eyes glare into the lens, talking in between deep, exasperated breaths.
Silencer: Your going to resort to the same desperation Miller, and your not going to have to wait to do it. I’m coming after you tonight. Owe my BALLS!
Still in a highly drained state Silencer forces his way to his feet, stumbling towards the backstage area with his almost lifeless legs barely holding him up and his hands continuing to soothe in lower region. All the while the camera remains settled on Psycho, whose hands are slowly sliding into his hair, as if he’s losing it once again. As sweat drips from the tip of his nose into a puddle on the canvas below he finds his grasp on reality beginning to slip further and further away, until it’s almost completely gone. Suddenly he rises to his feet, unleashing another loud primal roar, much like he did last week. He turns and approaches the referee, who holds his palms out then quickly vacates the ring. Psycho doesn’t let him get away quite so easily, exiting through the ropes and giving hot pursuit. The terrified official glances over his shoulder and spots the demented features of Psycho, therefore quickly begins to run with the behemoth chasing after him. In a state of absolute horror he runs around the ring with Psycho still charging right after him, refusing to allow him to get away. Finally when they reach the announce table the Sadistic Savage stops his pursuit and turns, grabbing the top of the commentary booth and ripping it off.
Mayne: Oh God, protect me Dan. He’s got that look in his eye, and I hope it’s not sexual. Go to him Dan, you’re a big piece of studdly man meat, prisoner’s won’t even touch me in the shower I’m so horrible.
Douglas: Would you stop it, we’ve got a real crisis here. Psycho, please calm down, just calm down.
Psycho slams the sides of his fists against the top of the table then approaches the time keeper, Kaily Wolf looking like a deer caught in a set of headlights. His massive hands reach out and take her by the hair, dragging Susie out of the chair as she screams and then throwing her down at ringside. The demented Sadistic One now grabs the chair she was sitting on and throws it over the ropes to the inside of the ring before approaching the steel steps, kicking them violently. The top half is sent flying while Psycho approaches the barricade, ripping off the steel plate that lines the surface of them, bearing the IWC symbol. As soon as it’s ripped off, Psycho turns and throws the large sheet of steel towards the time keeper, who barely gets his hands up in time to defend himself.
Dan: Psycho has completely and utterly lost it here Billy. The man has snapped, again.
Mayne: The last time he had one of these homicidal fits he killed just about everyone at ringside, which is why they seriously need to think about surrounding us with bullet proof plexxy glass, and that way I can wear my giant Pope hat without being insulted.
The Sadistic One returns to the announce table and slaps his palms across the surface of it, causing both Dan and Billy to lunge backwards out of fear for their well being.
Psycho: ROBIN, AWOL, ROBIN!!
Without warning he slams his forehead into the announce table, then begins to do it again and again, leaving an impression of his skull in the wooden surface of the structure.
Mayne: Jesus Christ, what did our announce table ever do to you Psycho?
Douglas: This would be one of those time I’d highly advise you to keep your mouth shut, Billy.
After his skull impacts the announce table once more Psycho turns and falls onto his seat, sliding his trembling hands into his hair. He can barely keep his grasp on the slightest bit of sanity that remains convoluted within his fractured mind, gently rocking back and forth in a frightening, tense manner. He pulls his shaking palms away from his face while continuing to rock with his legs crossed Indian style.
Psycho: Why won’t they leave me alone? Why they leave me in peace!?!
The large figure continues to rock uneasily as down the ramp now jots Killjoy, the fans reacting loudly to his presence. All those in the Manhattan Center seem quite pleased with the sight of the Master of the Mind Games once again as he moves around the ring in the direction of his tag team partner at the impending pay-per-view event.
Billy: Oh no, I imagine that this is the last person a demented Psycho would want to see right now, his age old rival, turned tag team partner at Extinction, Killjoy.
I’m just glad someone is coming out here to try and settle this madman down a bit, regardless of who they may be. And surprisingly, Killjoy may be the best person to do that given the bond that has seemingly developed between himself and Psycho as of late.
Although shaking from head to toe and hanging onto that last thread of sanity, Killjoy has no hesitation in approaching the rocking Psycho. He kneels down at his side and surprisingly places his hand on Psycho’s shoulder, causing the Sadistic One to stop his rocking abruptly, as his cold, emotionless gaze turns towards the man he spent so many years feuding with. It’s almost disturbing to see Killjoy out here reassuringly patting Psycho on the shoulder given their long, bloody history against each other.
Killjoy: Psycho, I need you to listen to me man, you’ve got to get your shit together before Sunday. Can you hear me? You’ve got to remember the deal we made last week.
Psycho continues to glare blankly into the face of his long term rival.
Killjoy: Robin isn’t the cause of all your problems, she didn’t make you lose that match just now. Get her out of your head and let me deal with her dammit. If you keep obsessing with her like you have been, then your not going to be focused at Extinction. I need you to be all there Psycho, I need you focus dammit!
His finger is thrust against Psycho’s temple, which surprisingly registers no response from the Sadistic One.
Killjoy: Can I trust you? Can I trust you!?!
Psycho’s head lowers, unable to give a response as the first signs of emotion become clear.
EMBRACING PAIN
That’s right Boss, Orlando and Nathan were so totally demoralized by last week’s beating that they can’t even force themselves to come to Riot! tonight.
Vindictive, hateful slurs commence from the packed Manhattan crowd at the sight of a smiling Krissie McMorris marching through the backstage corridor. A cell-phone is lifted to her ear while her free hand is carrying a purse with a little puppy sticking its head out of it, examining its surroundings. Krissie can care less about where she’s walking, or who she might bump into as she moseys forward through the corridor, feeling absolutely impervious as a result of the destruction of Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed last week. She feels a great deal of achievement as a result, her heart swelling with self appreciation. The voice on the other end of the shimmering silver cell-phone, presumably belonging to still mysterious figure head of the IWC, causes her grin and confidence to only increase exponentially.
Krissie: I say it’s a safe bet that if we haven’t won the war yet, then after last week, we’re well on our way to victory. Soon, there will be absolutely nothing left of the so called Future, and that pathetic Icon. And if they’re stupid enough to show up at Extinction, whatever remains of their shambled little frames will surely be finished off by the Rogue Squadron inside of the steel cage. We’re in a win, win situation here. Either they don’t show up at the pay-per-view and as a result admit defeat, or they do enter the building and find themselves brutally, savagely mauled by Riddick and Savior. There’s no possible way we can lose. What?
She stops only for a moment to place her free hand up to her other ear, as if attempting to hear the voice on the phone a little better. As soon as she hears the comment that her Boss makes a look of repulsion clouds her extravagant frame.
Krissie: Ha, tell me your joking? There’s no way I get a little quiver in my voice every time I mention Nathan’s voice. What are you trying to imply?
I don’t care how much it hurts your going to walk on it!
The joyful conversation that Krissie was just having with her mysterious employer is cut short as she pauses in her tracks, immediately becoming silent as if stunned by a strange occurrence. Her perfectly trimmed eyebrow rises into an arch as she continues to stare into the direction of what must be a truly bewildering scene.
Krissie: Hey babe, can I call you back in a second? Thanks.
In a slow, unsure manner she hangs up the phone and slides it back into her purse alongside her motionless pup. All the while her head tilts a little further as if it will give her a clearer view of this bewildering scene unfolding before her. The camera transitions in order to take into sight Pat Evans and the injured Aurora Rose. A look of anger is actually present on the always emotion devoid features of the Submission Champion as he crouches down and appears to be couching Rose. Tears of pain stream down her sweaty face as she rests with her back pressed to the wall, a huge cast still wrapped around her ankle and foot. Although no person in their right mind would attempt to fight through such excruciating pain, Aurora is actually trying to walk on her broken ankle. This painful rehabilitation is being done at the twisted behest of Evans, who is still shouting at her, demanding she try to walk although it’s next to near impossible to do so.
Pat: Words cannot express just how greatly you’re letting me down right now. I thought you were stronger than this Aurora, I thought you possessed strength. If I had known that you were really this weak all along I would have abandoned my quest to help you reach self realization long ago. Now come on, prove me wrong! Walk damnit, walk! Don’t be a fucking infant.
Aurora tries to push herself away from the wall and place pressure on her injured ankle only for her to grimace and groan loudly. She falls right back against the wall, reaching for her leg and hobbling on her one good foot in the process.
Aurora: I can’t, it hurts too much.
Evans: What, hahahaha, what did I hear you just say?
The deeply disturbed Evans cups his hand around his ear as if it will help him hear better, stepping closer to Rose who doesn’t want to repeat herself.
Pat: Did you say it hurts? Tell me I didn’t hear you say it hurts too much.
His fist collides with the wall dangerously close to Rose’s head, yet she didn’t flinch or move. Although her eyes may be opened widely she shows less fear of Evans than she has in previous weeks, even as the darkly clad Submission Champion steps up into her face, getting eye to eye with her to intensify what he’s saying.
Evans: Life hurts Aurora! Yet we face it on a day to day basis, we don’t give up or crumble under the pressure. I’ll be damned if you do the same thing simply because your ankle is in a little pain.
Rose: A little pain, I feel like James Caan from Misery here.
Pat: You’ve never felt actual pain Aurora, and until you do, until you face it head on you’ll get nowhere in this life. You’ll just continue to be a joke, a jobber incapable of climbing the ladder. If you can’t tolerate true anguish, you’ll never advance in this company, or in life. Pain helps you realize just what kind of person you really are. Pain leads to sacrifice, and the ability to sacrifice everything, rather its loved ones, careers, and your own health, will bestow upon you more power than you’ve ever felt before. So walk, put your God damn foot down and move. Quit disappointing me Aurora, and quit letting people like MAX get in your head and make you think your weak and feeble. You need to show that your more than that, and you need to show it by embracing your pain and showing self sacrifice.
Although she knows the agony is going to be unbearable she puts all her weight down onto the foot in the cast and unleashes a scream. It feels like she’s about to die as she takes a step then falls backwards against the wall once again, using it for support. Her breaths are very deep and labored, as she grits her teeth and tries not to display anymore pain. Surprisingly Evans looks slightly pleased by what he’s seeing as he rubs at his jaw and nods his head.
Krissie: Um, Mr. Evans, I hate to interrupt you but what in the hell are you doing?
In agitation Evans glances over his shoulder, his cold, emotionless eyes settling on Krissie and immediately sending a chill down her spine. That’s when Evans turns towards her and moves in the direction of the lovely female figurehead, who takes a step back a bit apprehensively.
Evans: Oh, it’s just another of life’s little lessons that the sheltered Aurora Rose never bothered to learn. But it’s never too late to teach an old dog new tricks. It’s actually convenient that you showed up here at this exact moment in time, as there’s something I’d like to discuss with you.
Krissie puts her palms up and tries to force a smile, although she’s highly freaked out by Evans.
Krissie: If you’re going to offer to subject me to the same type of lessons no thanks. I already endured more than enough torture having a relationship with Creed for so long.
Pat: No, although my extensive knowledge should be applied to everyone in order to help them achieve self actualization, I’m afraid my time is only too limited. I wanted to commend you on your decision to ban that disruptive element, MAX, from Riot! tonight.
Liking having her ego stroked Krissie nods and smiles brightly, yet it’s clear that Evans isn’t through just yet.
Evans: But I want to give you the opportunity to make another decision that promises to be just as brilliant. I think that due to Chapel’s actions and general out of control nature over the past few weeks that he’s being let off the hook a little too easy by facing David Miller tonight in just a straight up singles match. Don’t get me wrong, I know that Miller is a very talented individual, and our mindsets are almost frighteningly similar as we’re both well aware of the advantages of being mastered at the art of inflicting pain, both physical and mental, holds, but there needs to be something added to this match to make it more of a level playing field. Which is why I suggest that maybe things would work out more to everyone’s benefit should that match be changed to a MMA match between Chapel and David Miller tonight.
The thought had seemingly never crossed Krissie’s mind, but now that it’s implanted there she sure as hell likes it. A devious grin arches upward across her face as she twirls a lock of hair in a mischievous manner, all the while contemplating Pat’s brilliant concept.
Krissie: You know what? I actually like it. Consider it done. Tonight, David Miller vs. Chapel in a MMA rules match. Now I’ve got a little something to inform you about as well Pat, a concept I think will be totally to your liking.
Pat: Oh?
Krissie: Indeed. You see, after having a meeting with our World Champion, somebody I’m sure you’re quite familiar with…..
She winks in Evans’ direction, causing Pat to sigh and roll his eyes.
Krissie: We’ve decided to put a $50,000 bounty on El Magnifico. What that means is that whoever unmasks El Magnifico, and reveals him for this lying, putrid piece of slime that he really is, will be handed a boatload of money. I thought you might just want to know that considering you’ll be facing him later tonight. Make sure you keep it in mind.
Krissie marches off while Pat just stands there for several moments, pondering everything he just heard. The thought of receiving such a hefty reward and ruining El Magnifico’s little sham seems to interest him greatly. All the while in the background, Aurora is still trying to put weight on her ankle, yet squeals each time that she does.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
DO YOURSELF A FAVOR, AND GO TO A GOOD WRESTLING SCHOOL
FEAR OF THE CAGE
That same disturbing steel structure is present at the forefront of the camera, mesh wiring woven together to create the most imposing, demonic of sights, the cage. Having been seen earlier in the evening towering behind the back of General Manager AWOL, here it now stands again as a frightening reminder of what is in store for Extinction, the steel cage showdown between two of the finest tag teams in the history of the wrestling industry. Standing on the concrete that it surrounds, trapped within this imposing monstrosity are two men who over the past couple of weeks have become the most despised tag team in the majority of the wrestling industry. The face of a smiling Christian Savior sends the fans into a wave of righteous fury, with the odd few cheers still peppered in due to Adam Riddick’s close proximity to his brother’s side. Surprisingly both men appear confident and almost casual, as if they’re at home within the confines of the cage.
Savior: Do you see this….?
Riddick grabs the cage wall, wrapping his palm around it as his fingers slide through the holes. The cage wall is shaken as Savior watches on with a pleasant demeanor.
Christian: This is foot upon foot of steel, inch by inch of unforgiving, unrelenting, unremorseful mesh. Bodies have been ripped apart, bones broken, flesh tore, muscles snapped, and the canvas left covered in puddles of blood and sinew, thanks to this, the steel cage. This is the very structure that was intended to end the long, brutal feud between ourselves, the Rogue Squadron, and the numerous time tag team of the year Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed. Unfortunately, all this cold, hard, demonic steel may go to waste now that our precious dandy opponents are incapable of recovering from their little booboos long enough to drag themselves here tonight, or to Extinction.
Riddick: Pathetic, and to think, we actually took it easy on them last week.
Savior and Riddick both shake their heads while glaring through the mesh wiring of the cage, surprisingly on the same page for once.
Savior: Some people I guess are just too fragile. But let’s face the hard truth here Riddick, the reason our opponents aren’t here tonight, isn’t because they’re sitting at home nursing the numerous injuries we inflicted on them….
Adam: Hahaha, your right, it has nothing to do with any physical ailments. The reason the so called greatest tag team in IWC history isn’t here tonight, and won’t be able to drag their decaying bodies to Extinction, is because they’re too demoralized. After facing us one time in the ring, they realize that they’ll never be able to out match us.
Christian: Or more importantly, out think us.
Riddick rolls his eyes at that last comment, although he’s trying to force himself to remain on the same page as his brother, he finds it increasingly difficult. Savior now turns back towards the camera positioned on the opposite side of the steel cage wall, tilting his head with a sympathetic gaze.
Savior: Awe, our poor little pathetic opponents are just too sad to compete anymore. Isn’t that right Orlando and Nathan? You guys are sitting on your asses at home right now crying over a carton of rocky road ice-cream, stuffing your noses with handkerchiefs, and all ashamed because a superior team made the world realize you are not the best tandem in IWC history any longer. We’ve made you realize that you’ve built your tag team legacy on a mountain of lies. The only reason you’ve ever, EVER been considered the best tag team in this company’s miserable history, is because there’s never been any competition, because the Rogue Squadron was always above slumming it by coming here and beating you both. But now you’ve realized just how pathetic of a team you really are, constantly incapable of getting the edge on us, the Rogue Squadron.
Riddick: That’s why you’re really sitting at home right now. You’re too embarrassed and humiliated to show your faces in the lockeroom, and to these fans who once worshipped you both as heroes. But now, the heroes have become martyrs. The reason your not here tonight has nothing to do with injuries, so stop lying to your fans, be honest with them, tell them the truth for once. Tell them that your incapable of living a lie any longer, that the reason your not here, and chances are won’t be at Extinction, is because your pathetic feelings have been crushed and your false legacies have been destroyed by the Rising Phoenix, and the Rocking Renegade. It’s a tough fact to face when you realize your starting to slip, that your grasp on the top of the ladder has begun to weaken, when somebody simply better has come along and forced you to re-evaluate just how diminished your skills have become.
Savior: Not to use a cliché, but this is the equivalent of when an old lion is beaten by a younger, stronger lion, and if he isn’t killed in the fight he’s never the same again, because he has to walk away from the pride that he’s protected for so long. He’s never allowed to show his face again. That’s the same dilemma the two of you are enduring now. And perhaps it’s for the best that you stay at home instead of enduring any further ridicule and brutality on your old, worn out bodies, because the Rogue Squadron are here to carry the torch, as the new greatest tag team in IWC history.
A long smirk comes to Christian’s face while Riddick tilts his head and nods it. Adam slaps the cage wall again, causing it to shake slightly in order to add emphasis to what he has to say now.
Adam: It’s just a shame that we won’t be able to face them in the cage and properly give them the send off they deserve as they’re carted away from the IWC forever, mounted upon stretchers and bleeding so badly it takes hundreds of stitches to properly close up their wounds. However, I guess I can take consolation in knowing that although we won’t get them in the cage, that they’ll still be in great pains as they watch the Rogue Squadron capture the IWC tag team titles tonight.
Savior nods and slaps his brother on the shoulder reassuringly before Riddick turns quickly, knocking his brother’s palm off his body and moving towards the cage door. Christian turns and gives his brother an unusual glare, confused by his behavior, but still smirking at the thought of Orlando and Creed being forced to watch the Rogue Squadron become the tag team champions.
SEAN JOHNSON VS. SETH REILEY
The show comes back to the ring where the fans are anxious for more in ring action, especially after such heinous words being spoken by the Rogue Squadron in the cage backstage. These vindictive comments made by Christian Savior and Adam Riddick have left a sour puss expression on Dan Douglas’ face, shaking his head back and forth in a highly agitated state. On the other hand Billy is more jovial than ever, laughing hysterically over what he just heard.
Douglas: How can you sit there and laugh after what the Rogue Squadron just said about Nathan Creed and Orlando Cruze? Do you not have a conscious at all?
Mayne: Uhh, I thought it was pretty obvious that I don’t, nor do I care to grow one.
Dan: Do you even know what a conscious is?
Billy: A type of fruit?
All goes dark in the building as a red light can be seen emanating from the entry way and stage, casting a crimson hue over the shadowy boundaries of the building. That’s when “Change” by Deftones hits the PA system and the crowd remains somewhat silent, unfamiliar with the figure emerging through the curtains, IWC new comer Seth Reiley. He stares back and forth with an ominous air surrounding him as he moves down the ramp and towards the ring. He slides in under the ropes then stands as the lights begin to return to normal, the fans applauding somewhat out of sheer confusion.
Douglas: Seth Reiley making his second appearance here in the IWC after a pretty impressive debut last week.
Mayne: What you call impressive, I call uneventful. Last week he couldn’t muster up the ability to beat Shawn Logan nor Kelly Hart, so how could his performance be even slightly impressive?
Dan: Win or lose, he still showed a lot, and tonight he’s apparently after revenge against Sean Johnson, who he blames in part for costing him the match last week, when he distracted Shawn Logan long enough to be rolled up by Hart.
Billy: That’s no damned…..
Riiiiiinnnnggg, riiiiinnnng
Both Dan and Billy stop in the middle of their banter, beginning to glance around their surroundings in terrible confusion.
Mayne: Is that Jesus?
Douglas: No, it’s the phone right here at the announce table. I understand that we’re getting an emergency call being patched through to us right now with…..oh my God, Orlando Cruze on the line!
Dan quickly hits a button on the phone as the screen switches to a picture of Orlando Cruze with the words “voice of” written across the bottom.
Dan: Orlando, can you hear us?
Orlando Cruze: (voice over) Yeah, I hear you Dan, just make sure Billy doesn’t speak, I’m already homicidal enough.
Mayne: Ewww, big bad Orlando talking over the phone, why should I be even slightly scared, your not here tonight after all.
The scene again goes to a more recent photo taken of Orlando’s face plastered across the screen.
Cruze: (voice over) Rest assured gentlemen, Nathan and I are about to change that. I just thought I’d call and let everyone start to anticipate our arrival because we’re on our way to the Manhattan Center right now, and we intend to pay a visit to our friends Christian Savior and Adam Riddick. We’ll catch you when we get there.
The sound of a dial tone is now heard as the camera comes back live to a sweating Billy Mayne, his eyes opened widely and terror clear in every inch of his features. Now Dan has a reason to smile as he glares at his shocked broadcast colleague.
Douglas: Yes, Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed are on their way to the building right now, and I bet the Rogue Squadron are beginning to regret everything they just uttered a few moments ago.
Mayne: Well they just ruined the surprise.
Douglas: Sometimes forcing a person to anxiously wait, is better than surprising them.
Seth Reiley is getting impatient in the ring, marching back and forth in anticipation of his bout with “The Griffin” Sean Johnson, who he holds a great deal of animosity against after last week. The arena goes completely dark, the only sign of light comes from the entrance area which is lit up by a dim red light, simultaneously his music hits the stage as you can see the flashing from the cameras all over, you hear some very disgruntled growling, as if it was coming from a wolf about to attack on what its threatened by...the growling goes on for a few seconds before he comes walking out. Suddenly Johnson’s titantron video appears, and he comes out through the curtains, walking at kind of a slow pace and surprisingly holding a huge collection of balloons in the palm of his hand. All of the multicolored party favors have the words “River Angelus” written on them. He comes to the top of the ramp looking down to the ground, suddenly the lights go out again for about 5 seconds, it is followed by a very loud "BOOM" and an extreme amount of fire ALL over the entrance area. Simultaneously, Griffin lets out his signature "Roar of the beast" while raising his arms. The pyro is about enough to make the fans sweat who are sitting in the nosebleed section. The dim red light as well comes on at the sound of the blast and pyro, this time it shines all through out the arena. Sean walks his way down to the ring to then annihilate the unlucky bastard he is forced to fight. He stops only momentarily to tie the balloon strings around the ring post then rolls under the ropes.
Douglas: Sean Johnson coming out to compete in what should be a violent encounter with a psyched up Seth Reiley, and what does he bring with him, balloons.
Mayne: I don’t know what they’re for, but for some reason I want one.
Johnson stands up in the ring, glaring at the balloons for a moment and making sure they’re safe before turning towards Reiley. Before the bell can ring Seth rushes across the squared circle, hitting a lariat directly to Sean’s throat. Johnson is knocked forcefully to the canvas with Reiley coming down beside him. He stands up and begins to stomp at Sean repeatedly now with primal rage as the bell chimes several times in the background. He reaches down and grabs hold of Johnson’s hair, using it to force him over onto his knees then drag him to his feet as he connects with a hard uppercut to his opponent’s jaw. The strike causes Sean to stagger backwards, flailing his arms in a shocked state while Reiley bends forward and charges shoulder first directly into his adversaries ribs. Sean is driven backwards spine first directly into the turnbuckle with Seth standing up in front of him, beginning to deliver boot after boot to his mid-section once again. He then steps in with an elbow directly into Sean’s face, followed by another blow, Reiley all fired up.
Douglas: Look at Reiley go against Sean Johnson, he is just all fired up and motivated after what he believes the Griffin did to him last week.
Mayne: This level of raw aggression is exactly what Reiley needs to show in order to be taken seriously…..
The comment being made by Mayne is cut short at the sight of Kelly Hart and Shannon Blaze materializing out of nowhere as they sit themselves on top of the announce table. Both Dan and Billy glance at each other, having no idea where the Second City Saints just came from nor why they’re sitting on their table.
Billy: Um, what the fuck?
Douglas: Shannon Blaze and Kelly Hart of the Second City Saints coming out here and planting themselves on our table, getting a birds eye view of the match I guess. Hey wouldn’t you guys be more comfortable in chairs?
Kelly turns and sticks his finger over his lips, insisting that Dan shut himself up. The commentators shrug their shoulders and opt to remain silent in terms of questions while in the ring Seth has taken hold of Sean’s wrist, whipping him across the ring with all his force. Johnson turns and hits the corner hard back first, his arms tumbling over the cables to keep himself upright as Reiley comes rushing in. He builds a head of steam, really developing some momentum when Johnson gets his foot up only for Reiley to catch hold of it. His hands wrap about Sean’s ankle and then pull his leg forward, trapping it under his arm. This forces Johnson to begin hopping on one foot as he’s pulled backwards out of the corner by a furious, much more intense Reiley. Suddenly Sean jumps into the air, twisting then connecting with an enzugari straight to the back of his opponent’s cranium. The kick sends Seth staggering forward and dropping to his knees, his forehead falling onto the middle turnbuckle pad and propping himself up as a result. As soon as Johnson stands up he turns towards Seth’s back then comes barreling in, reaching out and wrapping his hands around the top rope while kicking the rest of his body up into the air. He almost does a head stand in the corner before swinging his lower body down into a dropkick directly to the upper back and lower portion of Reiley’s cranium. The crowd reacts with cheers at the sight of this move as Johnson rolls over backwards onto his feet, getting up and appearing more motivated himself.
A dazed Reiley instinctively rises to his feet then turns, falling back first against the corner with his arms propping him up. This leaves him in a very prone state for Sean who comes rushing in and jumping into the air, hitting him with a hard back elbow directly to the sternum. Sean lands on his feet and then steps to the center of the ring turning around as he waits for Reiley who now comes staggering out of the corner. Johnson bends forward, burying his shoulder against Seth’s stomach for that big double A style spinebuster of his before Reiley blasts him over the upper back with a clubbing blow. A groan emanates from Sean who turns away from Reiley as a result of that blast, his vampire like opponent stepping up behind him and throwing a forearm into the middle area of his spine. As a result Sean arches his back and staggers forward only to have Reiley grab the beltline of his trunks, pulling him backwards and hooking both of his arms into a full nelson. Whatever he had in store he can’t connect with because Sean now bends forward, slipping around behind Reiley and grabbing both sides of his head. Johnson drops down and pulls Reiley with him, slamming the back of his head into the canvas with a reverse facebuster. Reiley’s legs kick into the air which Johnson reaches out, grabbing hold of for the pin.
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Seth kicks out to a mixed response from the crowd. The Second City Saints nod and act as if they’re mildly surprised by the action in the ring.
Douglas> Sean Johnson finally getting in some sustained offense with that reverse facebuster out of nowhere! He’s got to stay on the offensive here if he wants any possibly at besting the beast known as Seth Reiley.
Mayne: Well, duh’, of course. If that wasn’t stating the obvious, I don’t know what would be.
Dan: I think I may cry now.
Billy: You damned pansy, men are only allowed to cry when they try to sleep at night.
The angered Seth rolls to his elbows and knees, attempting to get up as Johnson stands in front of him, stepping in with a hard right to his face, followed by another strike. The blows almost knock Seth to the canvas while he remains on one knee, Sean now placing him in a front chancery and dragging him up to his feet. He drops back into a hard DDT, planting the top of Seth’s skull violently into the canvas. Reiley rolls onto his back with Sean turning away from him, a battered mess of a human being. He crawls into the cover on his giant monstrosity of an opponent, hooking his thick legs.
1
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Seth kicks out by launching his broad shoulder from the ring in the nick of time. Johnson rises to his knees and slaps his palms together, insisting that the official speed up his count next time. Referee FitzPatrick insists that the count was properly made only for Johnson to shake his head and grab the long locks of his opposition, rolling him slowly to his knees. All the while Kelly Hart and Shannon Blaze are jabbing each other with their elbows, pointing with giddiness towards the ring. Kelly begins to do some stuff with his hands, insisting that he’s about to do a magic trick before Shannon slaps him in the back of the head, wagging his finger in his partner’s direction. Inside of the ring Johnson has dragged his behemoth of an opponent to his feet, jabbing him with closed fists to his features repeatedly. Each blow knocks Seth backwards as he flails his arms in an attempt to maintain his foot, he then receives a kick to the gut, doubling him over forward and being taken by the back of the hair. Johnson rushes him across the ring in the direction of the turnbuckle only to have Reiley get his foot up, placing it to the top rope then back elbowing Sean to the features. Johnson turns away from Seth, staggering to the center of the ring when Reiley charges up behind him into a lariat directly to the back of his head.
Sean is knocked forward from the blow, collapsing onto his elbows and knees while reaching for his neck in anguish. As soon as he tries to get up, pushing his body to all fours, Seth is right there with a timely elbow drop directly to the kidney area. A groan emanates from Johnson as he drops to his chest and stomach, Reiley standing up at his side then stepping in as he jumps into the air with an extension of his leg. It is planted directly across the back of Sean’s head, causing him to convulse as a result of all that weight coming down on top of his cranium.
Billy: This vampire, wrestler, human, mascara wearing hybrid of an individual just got on the offensive against Sean Johnson once again. This man just seems too physically imposing for the Griffin to out wrestle or out match.
Douglas: His size and weight definitely give him an advantage in this contest over Johnson, but Sean has surprisingly been getting on the offensive a few times against this physically imposing beast.
Seth Reiley takes Sean by the hair and forces him to his knees before reaching down with his massive palms, placing them around Johnson’s throat, choking the very life out of his frame. Sean gags as all the air is cut off to his head by this demonic force, official Fitzpatrick stepping in and starting a five count. The furious beast refuses to break the hold as his deranged eyes shoot outward from his skull and lock on the blood red face of his opponent. Using his sheer strength he lifts Johnson up to his feet then hoists him into the air, holding him up high while strangling the very life out of him. That’s when Sean reaches out, digging his fingers into the eyes of his opponent, gouging them and causing Seth to drop his frame to the canvas. Johnson lands directly on his feet as Seth staggers backwards, his opponent bending down in order to catch his temporarily blinded opponent when he intends to come back in. Reiley steps forward then delivers a punt like kick directly to Sean’s face, causing him to stand up straight and stumble in reverse, swiping his palms over his features. Reiley rushes forward now for a big lariat when Johnson bends down, catching him against his shoulder then hoisting him into the air, twisting as he drags his large opponent down to the canvas into a big spinebuster. The fans react with cheers and screams as Sean hooks Seth’s leg, going for the pinfall.
1
2
Reiley barely gets his shoulder up in time to avoid the three count, leaving Johnson shocked and infuriated as a result. He rises slowly to his feet while turning to glare at the Second City Saints members, as if he just realized that they were present. Grins form on the faces of Kelly and Shannon, who wave at Johnson before Hart does some gyrations with his hands and magically produces a rose in his outstretched palm. Blaze reaches out and takes the rose, ripping it up in a fit of frustration. All the while Sean forces himself to his feet in the ring with Seth getting to a standing base in front of him. Just as both men rise Sean steps in and chops Reiley to his thick, broad sternum, knocking him back a few feet. Sean chops him again straight across his chest, yet Reiley is remaining on his feet. Finally Sean kicks him to the gut, doubling Reiley over and taking him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring into the opposite cables. As soon as Reiley hits the cables and comes back in Sean steps to the center of the ring, bending down for another back drop. This time Seth steps to his side, wrapping his arms around his opponent’s waist and lifting him up into the air, draping his frame over his shoulder. Reiley jumps into the air, coming down onto his knees and dragging the Griffin back first into his shoulder with a modified back breaker. A roar comes from Sean as he twists and spills off of Reiley’s shoulder, hitting the ring with force. The large Reiley climbs into the cover on him, hooking his leg sluggishly, almost drained of all his strength.
1
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Johnson kicks out to great applause from the fans, Reiley sitting up and sinking his fangs into his lower lip almost to the point that he drawls blood. Fury is present on his twisted features as he forces his tired frame to his feet, this bout taking a great physical toll on him.
Douglas: What a back breaker by Reiley, but it still wasn’t enough to finish Johnson off.
Mayne: I hope this isn’t going to be another one of those marathon matches like we saw to kick start tonight’s telecast. I really have to take a piss.
The infuriated Reiley takes hold of Sean’s locks, forcing him up to his feet and then taking him by the throat, setting up for the chokeslam. He reaches out, grasping hold of the back of Johnson’s trunks and now hoisting him up into the air with the intention of driving him down to the canvas with incredible force. Somehow Sean is able to slip free from his grasp at the last second, landing on his feet right behind Seth’s back then rushing in reverse into the cables. He bounces off and comes rushing in once again only to eat a back elbow directly to the face from the monster. The collision causes Sean to stagger backwards into the cables, bouncing off them again and stumbling forward into Seth who swings around behind him. He bends forward and buries the back of his head between the shoulder blades of his opponent, hoisting him up into the air while hooking both of his arms. The crowd starts to scream as he sets up for the Embrace (Vertibreaker), about to conclude this contest once and for all. Suddenly Johnson slips free though, dropping onto his feet behind Seth then turning, grabbing hold of the back of his tights and rolling him up into a school boy pin.
1
2
Reiley kicks out by rolling over backwards onto his feet then charging forward into Sean who catches him once again, dragging him down into the small package.
1
2
3!
Douglas: He’s done it, Sean Johnson has emerged victorious from this vicious battle!
Mayne: How did he manage to do that? I really don’t know, I stopped paying attention when I noticed that mole on Shannon’s back.
Seth rolls onto his side, his fangs flashing through his twisted, infuriated lips while Johnson rolls away from him, still recovering.
Douglas: What a quick, fast paced contest between Seth Reiley and Sean Johnson here tonight on Riot!
Mayne: It was brief patches of action interspersed amongst moments of absolute chaos Dan. But I guess what we witnessed was mildly entertaining. If it weren’t for the fact that Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed are apparently on their way to the building, combined with the fact I could barely see any of the action with Kelly Hart and Shannon Blaze sitting in front of us the entire time.
Almost on cue the Second City Saints members rise to their feet and approach the ring slowly, wide grins on their faces as if they’re about to enjoy what they’re going to do. The SCS jump onto the apron and grab the top ropes as Sean Johnson struggles his way to his feet, appearing very exhausted after all the action in this intense singles contest. Just as Sean gets up his eyes meet with Kelly Hart and Shannon Blaze, bracing himself as if prepared for a physical war between them.
Douglas: The Second City Saints of Kelly Hart and Shannon Blaze appear as if they are about to get their hands on an exhausted Sean Johnson.
Mayne: Why must there be so many after match encounters? Leave well enough alone!
Although very exhausted after that hard hitting encounter Sean bends down, motioning for both men to enter, ready for another fight already. That’s when he’s scooped up into the air from behind, Seth holding him over his shoulders then jumping into the air. He brings Johnson down across the back of his head with the Embrace (Vertibreaker). The tired, battered body of Johnson bounces into the air before he comes down onto his side, appearing knocked unconscious by that devastating finishing move. Reiley sits there with a twisted expression on his face while Kelly and Shannon glance at one another then back into the ring, surprised by Seth’s behavior.
Mayne: Seth just attacked Johnson from being, and hahaha, I’m really trying not to laugh.
Douglas: Obviously your not trying hard enough now are you? Why is he attacking Sean from behind like this?
Reiley rises to his feet, glaring back and forth at the Second City Saints member with a cruel, malicious stare inhabiting his eyes. The SCS tandem look slightly apprehensive over Seth’s behavior before he drops to both his knees, the monster extending his arms out to his sides while looking up into the heavens. It almost appears as if he’s worshipping Kelly Hart and Shannon Blaze, who both glance in one another’s directions awkwardly. They now drop off the apron and back away slowly with their palms held out in front of themselves, unsure of how to react or what to do here. All the while Johnson is still gripping at the back of his neck in terrible pain and Seth remains on his knees with his head aimed towards the heavens above.
A MAGNIFICENT BOUNTY
Although shivering from the cold Manhattan air, Susie Moore is still able to conjure forth that sweet, innocent expression. Her teeth may be chattering and her arms may be immersed in goose-bumps but she still smiles and tries to grit her way through them. Her location is the outside parking lot, where surprisingly view vehicles are positioned, and a loud shout of protest catches onto the chilled night air. Although frostbite seems to be setting into her elbows and causing them to become abnormally stiff, Susie is able to lift the microphone up to her lips, amplifying the sound of her chattering canines.
Susie: Hello IWC fans it is I Susie Moore standing outside of the Manhattan Center and quite possibly freezing to death. Seriously my nipples could cut diamonds right now, but since I’m being informed that I can’t prove this to you on national television, I’ll just move right along with my point for being out here on this icy tundra. Yep, I’ve actually been reading for once, of course all the material is in the form of pop-up books, but it still counts. Anywho, the reason I’m out here is to get a word with a man we’ve seen over the past few weeks protesting his recent release, Too Magnificent. We’re going to try and get to the bottom of what’s brought him here to the Manhattan Center for the third consecutive week.
She turns and begins to move towards the source of the previously mentioned shouting, where Too Magnificent is now standing, thrusting a sign up high above his head. For some reason it just has a picture of a trashcan drawn on it with no writing whatsoever to drawl interest to his plight. Too Magnificent obviously has not mastered the art of protest as of yet. The giant barely even notices the fragile minded Susie as she approaches him, continuing to lift his picket sign and take swigs of a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag as well.
Too Magnificent: We want better schools for our children, end segregation, don’t drill in environmentally protected areas, free Leonard Peltier….wait, what the hell am I protesting about again?
Still not aware of the approaching Moore, he lowers his sign and places the bottle on the concrete, lifting his palm to his face as he cups it over his mouth.
Too Magnificent: Equality in the workplace? No, that’s not it. Better more reliable contraceptives? Although my mother always complained about that I don’t think that’s why I’m here. Hmmm, oh yeah, I’m mad about being fired, or something.
With renewed vigor he begins to thrust the sign high into the air once again, trying to march in concentric circles although he has no audience or supporters whatsoever to hear his shouted pleas. Surprisingly, actually he does seem to have one bystander watching on, a man lying on the blacktop, covered in a moldy blanket and ripped rags, also drinking from a bottle and holding up a cardboard sign that reads, “Chevy Chase for President.” Obviously Too Mag’s actual protest is lost on the drunken, disillusioned supporter, who clearly has nothing better to do with his time.
Susie: Too Mag, Too Mag, can I get a word with you?
The lengthy, and angry Magnificent spins to face the attractive young lass with a highly motivated, intense gaze. He provides a look that would frighten a normal person, yet Moore seems far too idiotic to realize what she should be afraid of.
Too Magnificent: You’ll get more than words young lady if you don’t ask some intelligent questions for a change. Actually no, I’ll ask the questions for a change. Why has it taken so long for my protest to receive any media coverage, huh, huh? How come nobody’s come out here to interview me, and find out why I’m so outraged? I’ll tell you why, it’s because the IWC establishment is racist, that’s right, racist, and sexist! Don’t think I didn’t spot AWOL checking out my ass. I’ll sue if I’m not rehired soon. I’ll sue the dickens out of them.
Susie’s eyes are opened widely, as if she just spotted something shinny.
Moore: Wow, you’ve obviously got a lot to protest about.
Too Magnificent retracts his head then shakes it as if he’s stunned by her stupidity.
Too Magnificent: Of course I am. You can tell how mad I am because I have a sign, a sign attached to a stick, a stick I say! I was terminated unfairly, simply because I refused to kiss the assess of the Alpha Generation anymore, because I was sick of being their punching bag whenever something went wrong. I should have been listening to Orlando all along, when he warned me about this happening, but I was too stupid to listen. Now I realize that guys like Cruze and Creed were the only ones really interested in my well being even while I was attacking them on a weekly basis, and when I get my job back, because it will happen eventually, I’ll do everything in my power to make it up them. But another thing that has really crawled up my crotch….
Susie: Is that a medical condition?
Too Mag stands there silent and blinking for several moments with his mouth hanging slightly open.
Too Magnificent: Nooo, but the brain damage you suffer from is. Another reason I’m so infuriated, is that as soon as I got fired they brought in my idol, they hired a man I grew up worshipping in El Magnifico. Someone with the same height, weight, and wrestling abilities as me, someone with the same trashcan fetish, someone just as, or maybe even more insane than I am. Although I was star-struck at first, and incapable of seeing his hiring for what it truly was, I realize now that the reason they brought in El Magnifico, was to replace me. He stole my job! And the only reason he was hired is because he probably works for jelly beans or tacos, or whatever Spanish stereotype you can come up with. The point is I’m no longer a Magnifico fan, now that I realize why he was really brought in, now that I realize that he stole my job from me. In fact, if I see him tonight I’ll make good on the $50,000 bounty and unmask him myself! How do you like that?
Susie shrugs her shoulders and glances around in confusion.
Moore: A lot?
Too Magnificent: Good answer. You know, I hope I do see that backstabbing bastard Magnfico tonight, because not only is his autograph apparently worthless on e-bay, but he also has the audacity to show up living the high life and rubbing it in my face….
His angry speech is suddenly cut short as he looks into Susie’s eyes, who is staring over the big man’s shoulder. As a result the giant’s chest lowers and a sigh escapes from his exasperated lungs.
Too Magnificent: He’s standing right behind me isn’t he?
Tentatively Susie nods her head forcing Too Magnificent to buck up as he turns and finds himself standing slightly taller than the individual residing behind him. It is indeed the one and only El Magnifico, adorned in a trench-coat that obscures from view the sight of his body. Oddly enough his head appears much smaller than usual, and his arms are stubby, very tiny as they are crossed over his puny sternum. Too Magnificent sticks out his chest to look threatening while lowering his sign to his side and breathing furiously.
Too Magnificent: You, you’re the one responsible for all my misery. You’re the one to blame for my firing, and it’s about damn time I got my revenge. Now come here and let me unmask you.
He reaches out and grabs the trench-coat, ripping it off to reveal that El Magnifico is actually a midget, standing on top the shoulders of another midget. He too is adorned in an El Magnifico mask which confuses the hell out of Too Magnificent as he backs away and observes the little figures. The one midget dismounts from his associate’s shoulders, landing on his feet beside his counterpart, when they both rush forward and kick Too Magnificent to his shins simultaneously. Both little El Magnifico’s scurry away rushing towards the building with Too Magnificent turning towards them, shaking his fist in the air.
Too Magnificent: Damn you El Magnifico and your ability to split into tiny Mexicans!
He now transfers his attention to a baffled Susie, who he hands his picket sign.
Too Magnificent: Fill in for me for a moment would you?
As soon as she takes the sigh he rushes around her, in hot pursuit of the mini-Magnificos. Not sure what she should be doing, Susie shrugs her shoulders and lifts the sign into the air, beginning to turn in circles as she shouts loudly.
Moore: Free Tibet, free Tibet, free Tibet!
PHYSICAL LOVE
With his jaw hanging slightly open and his eyes clouded with utter befuddlement, World Heavyweight Champion Hurse sits on the very edge of his plain white leather sofa watching the scenes from the previous segment unfold on a monitor. The television is positioned at the forefront of the lavish dressing room designated for the Alpha Generation, but no amenities would soothe the World Champion at this point in time. His eyes blink awkwardly as he tries feebly to make sense of what he’s just witnessed, completely and utterly baffled with no idea how to react to the images on the monitor. Seated at his side and sharing in his bewilderment is the ever so lovely Robin Brooks with her fingers running through her hair and her eyes darting back and forth. Although she’s confused as well, she doesn’t outwardly display it nearly as much as the infuriated Hurse, who is still on the edge of his sofa, attempting to formulate words. Every time one attempts to come out it just can’t be produced into an audible sentence, leaving the Champion to start digging his fingers into the back of his head, scratching at it nervously. Finally, after much duress he’s able to interpret his bewilderment.
Hurse: What……the hell…..was that?
His eyes glance towards Brooks, who shrugs her shoulders and tilts her head, not having an explanation. Again Hurse glances at the television monitor, still struggling with his dialogue.
Hurse: Was that suppose to be funny? Does Too Magnificent think he can get away with rubbing this whole rouse in our faces?
Brooks: I thought it was kind of funny myself.
A truly vindictive, malicious glare is directed at Brooks, originating from the rage clouded eyes of the World Champion.
Hurse: Of course you would, you probably still find Carrot Top humorous. The point is this isn’t funny, it isn’t funny at all. Believe me, I know humor, I’ve watched Daddy Day Care plenty.
Forcefully Robin nods then rolls her eyes when the Champion isn’t looking, also pretending to tie a noose around her throat in order to strangle the remaining life from her frame. All the while Hurse isn’t watching, his eyes remaining glued to the television monitor in outrage over the previous production. He finds himself fuming over the way that Too Magnifico made a mockery of the $50,000 bounty.
Hurse: How dare he. First he has the audacity, the AUDACITY, to not obey my, or Desolation’s orders, which led to his firing from the IWC, and now he’s making my genius $50,000 bounty idea look like a freaking joke.
Robin: Um, I thought it was Sallie and Krissie’s idea.
The Master of Control gives her an “are you serious” type of glare.
Hurse: Of course it wasn’t, something that brilliant can only come from one mind, my own. I was the one who suggested, nay demanded that Sallie and Krissie create the unmasking bounty so we could end this whole El Magnifico debacle. I was hoping by the end of the night that we’d never have to put up with that ungrateful, backstabbing bastard Too Magnificent ever again. Yet look at what he’s doing, he’s trying to make it into a running gag, how dare he, how dare he reduce my brilliance to a joke!
In outrage Hurse rises, beginning to pace back and forth, leaving Robin sitting on the couch rather apathetically watching on. His behavior seems to amuse her more than the previous segment involving plenty of midget antics.
Robin: So you were meeting with Sallie again huh?
Suddenly the World Champion pauses in mid-step, his eyes closing together slowly as he raises his head, directing his face towards the flickering light bulbs above. Obviously he didn’t want to have to tolerate this type of conversation tonight.
Brooks: You’ve been spending an awful lot of time with her lately.
Hurse: Robin please, I know where this is going, and before you get there let me remind you that this is simply a business relationship. It’s a friendship, a bond created on the foundation of our common hatred for Orlando Cruze. There’s nothing more to it.
As soon as his statement is concluded Brooks rises to her feet defiantly, and crosses her arms over her chest, obviously to Hurse’s dismay.
Robin: Oh, it’s just a business relationship huh? Then how come every time I try to call you, you’re over at Sallie’s house. You spend more time with her then me, and the other night don’t think I didn’t hear you making a bunch of baby talk on the phone. Is there something going on between yourself and Orlando’s ex girlfriend? Be honest with me Steven. We can’t go any further in this relationship, or go into that tag match at Extinction, which I remind you I want no part of, without trusting each other. So tell the truth!
Hurse: I am telling you the truth!
The skin on his face transforms to a bright shade of claret as he steps towards his love and tag partner for this coming Extinction, causing her to back up slightly, almost falling in reverse onto the couch cushion.
Hurse: I’ll say it one more time; I’m not having an affair with Sallie. As if I could actually put my weewee where Orlando’s has been before. Gross! It’s just a friendship is all, so why are you getting so jealous and acting like a lunatic?
A chuckle surprisingly comes from Robin as she lowers her head and begins to shake it.
Robin: Well if the shoe isn’t on the other foot now….
Hurse: Your shoes are too big for my feet.
Brooks: It’s just a saying, not meant to be taken literally! I’m trying to say that over the past few months you’ve been doing the exact same thing to me, by constantly claiming that something is going on between Killjoy and I, just because we’re friends. That’s all we are, yet you won’t accept that as the truth. Your paranoia has even gone to such extremes that you’re forcing me to be your tag team partner Sunday against Psycho and Killjoy. Your willing to have me put my life on the line just to prove there’s nothing going on between myself and Killjoy, and to prove my love to you.
Now a chuckle, a rather disturbing one emanates from the title holder as he stares towards the blank ceiling once more. It’s clear that the Black Widow doesn’t like where his laughter is going.
Hurse: Well there’s a different between my friendship with Sallie, and your relationship with Killjoy. Sallie and I never use to be fuck buddies before we came pals, unlike yourself and Killjoy. So how am I not suppose to be paranoid about you wanting to spend so much time with a man you use to screw on a weekly basis. How am I not suppose to be a little crazed at the thought that your conspiring with him behind my back because you don’t love me. Hell, how do I know your not going around having sex with anything that has a heart beat given your untrustworthy nature.
Suddenly Brooks slaps him across the cheek with such force that it sends spit flying from his mouth all the way across the room into the far wall. Hurse is almost knocked off of his feet as the X-Class Champion stands there, breathing intensely.
Robin: I am sick of being insulted by all these wild allegations of yours. It’s not my fault that you can’t trust anyone! I’m tired of being of no importance to you as well, just being treated as your flunky or your property. You don’t even care that Christian Savior stole my title, that Psycho has been trying to kill me for months, that Killjoy can be completely unpredictable when your facing him in that ring. Well rather you like it or not, I’m going to take back my belt, I’m going to take back my friendship, I’m going to take my revenge on Psycho, and I’m going to take back my life!
Just as she prepares to go on Hurse turns towards her with his fist in the air, his knuckles stopping a little short of her face. Robin takes a step back as Hurse stands before her, snarling his breaths, shaking from head to toe in a state of pure, uncontrolled rage. A large red blemish is left on his cheek from her slap while he continues to stand there, trembling from head to toe with his fist stopped in mid-air. That’s when he opens his hand and places his palm around Robin’s face, shoving her forcefully backwards so that she lands on her posterior upon the sofa. A look of shock and great emotion weighs heavily on Robin’s face as Hurse bends down slowly to get eye to eye with her and add emphasis to his statement.
Hurse: No, what you will do is start listening to me, because rather you like it or not, I do own you, and I can make your life a living hell. Now stay back here tonight during my match or else, because your nothing more than a worthless distraction!
With his lips still shivering in rage he stands up straight and marches directly out the door, leaving Brooks seated on the couch in a stunned state. A tear can be seen coming to her eye over the fact that he technically put his hands on her in a highly physical manner.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
DAVID MILLER VS. CHAPEL:
MMA RULES
The show comes back to the inside of the arena where Dan Douglas and Billy Mayne are seated behind the announce table, again left in the same emotional states they’ve been see in throughout the evening. As the crowd waits anxiously for the impending competition, Dan sits stewing in anger and Billy remains more jovial than ever.
Mayne: Well ladies and gentlemen, the time is almost here for David Miller vs. Chapel in a MMA rules match, but I just can’t get my mind off the magnificent moment we just saw backstage.
Dan: How in your right mind can you possibly condone the way Hurse was treating Robin Brooks backstage before the commercial break?
Mayne: He finally laid the law down to that disrespectful little trollip. She was told exactly what she needed to hear, and now they’ll be on the same page come time for Extinc…..
Riiiiinnnnggg, riiiiinnnnggg….
Billy: Oh God, not this again!
The phone is heard ringing throughout the building, just like it was earlier in the evening as Dan Douglas suddenly finds a reason to smile. He reaches out and hits the speaker button on the phone positioned on top of his announce table once again.
Douglas: Ladies and gentlemen, I can only hazard to guess that this is another call being patched into us by Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed. Gentlemen, are you there?
Instead of Orlando’s picture appearing on the screen, this time it’s Nathan Creed’s. Unfortunately it’s his driver’s license photo, and it doesn’t appear to be all that flattering.
Nathan Creed: (voice over) That’s right, it’s us boys. The Creed and Cruze connection are on their way to the building right this very moment.
Dan: That’s damn good to hear. Now where exactly are you two?
Again the photo of Creed pops up with the words “voice of” written beneath it.
Creed: (voice over) I can’t give you are exact whereabouts, but rest assure that we’re real close. We’ll be showing up any second now Dan.
Mayne: Hopefully you get caught in a traffic jam.
Nathan: Oh we have our ways around that Billy, don’t you worry, we’ll arrive before the show ends, and we’ll have a special surprise for the Rogue Squadron. Let’s just say, the lions are coming back to retake the pride.
A dial tone is now heard, Creed choosing to add emphasis to his last statement by hanging up now. The photo vanishes as Billy is shown drearily lying his head down on the surface of the announce table, Dan on the other hand is still grinning widely, amused by his broadcast partner’s dismay.
Douglas: You heard it Billy, Cruze and Creed are getting closer to the building, they’ll be here by the end of the night, and they will get their hands on the Rogue Squadron.
Mayne: Is it possible to pray for flat tires?
Dan: Sure, I’ve been praying that your larynx would be crushed for years.
Billy: And damn you, it almost came true when Jon Rich came crashing down on top of me. It’s all a conspiracy against the wonderful Mr. Mayne, I knew it, and after I’ve been such a loveable person for so long.
The lights of the arena fall low, plunging the building, and all those inside it, into the depths of darkness, leaving the endless shadows to be broken only by the random flash of a camera amongst the seats, while anxious cries from the crowd echo through the air. Seconds pass, until the odd sound of synthesized notes begins to dribble through the speakers, drawing the blinded fans to their feet at the familiar music, the camera flashes growing in number as everyone turns their attention to the stage, where a single light has come to life at the back of the entranceway, silhouetting a single figure now standing at the center of the stage. Even without the lights to see, the crowd responds with an instant uproar, knowing full well who has appeared. Over the speakers, the music continues to grow more pronounced, picking up in both pace as well as rhythm, until a single electric guitar churns in from the background, leading the song into a thunderous crescendo that triggers the lights into an explosive return, sending brilliant flashes of light dancing around the arena, dazzling strobes and the lancing beams of blue-tinted spotters sweep through the fans, inciting them into an even more riotous frenzy. Still motionless at the center of the stage, Miller calmly lifts his head as the lights return, and begins a stoic, but purposed walk down to the ring, his arms extending almost casually in order to except the palm-slaps and high-fives from the fans at ringside. Once at the bottom of the ramp, Miller breaks into a dead run, before making a diving leap between the middle- and bottom-ropes, tucking himself into a perfect somersault that brings him right back up to his feet in the center of the ring, the momentum forcing the hood of his sweat-jacket to fall back, revealing the intense, focused set of his eyes and face as he turns a slow circle, and gazes out over the now screaming capacity crowd. Stretching his arms out to his sides, and raising them high over his head, Miller taunts the frantic masses, before swiftly whipping off his jacket, and hurling it over the ropes to one of the outside crew members, while he, himself, walks over to the nearest corner. Backing up against one of the near corners, Miller easily kicks out of his unlaced shoes, and moves them out onto the apron. After checking the wraps on his feet, and throwing a number of shadow-combinations, Miller settles himself against the ropes, bending and stretching a little in order to limber himself up for the fight. Afterward, he settles back against the corner, and drapes his arms over the top-ropes, while crossing his feet at the ankles and lowering his head, bobbing it in time to the music.
Douglas: We apologize for getting off subject ladies and gentlemen, but I hope you understand with all of this phone call insanity going on currently, but we’ve got get ourselves focused on this travesty of a match about to take place.
Mayne: Oh pish posh, how can you call it a travesty? A MMA match plays to all of David Miller’s strengths, and um, uh, Chapel will look good in spandex?
Dan: Exactly. No, I’m not agreeing about the Chapel comment, I’m expressing my anger over the fact that this match was made by the conspiring Pat Evans and Krissie earlier in the night to put the War Angel in a platform he’s not use to. For one, he’s not a well versed in ring grappler, and secondly, he doesn’t have nearly as much MMA training as David Miller. In fact, he’s never even been in a MMA match before.
Billy: I know, it’s your classic fish out of water tale, and if Funny Farm taught you anything, that type of story sells.
The lights go dim and suddenly red lights begin to flash and light the staging area. The speakers throughout the arena come to life and the scream of ‘REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH!!!’ is heard as “Personal Jesus” by Marilyn Manson begins to play as fire rises around the entranceway. A massive form is seen shrouded in darkness standing behind the flames. As the song hits the hard, echoing chorus for the first time, Chapel walks through the fire and out to the aisle, with the Cartel title glistening as it hangs from his grasp. The massive zealot walks to the ring, his head covered in a black hood and a black trench coat covering his body. Suddenly some kind of distortion cuts into his entrance, both via things going on across the titontron and upon the stage. Chapel barely even notices it at first as he glances over his shoulder in the direction of the titontron slowly, Miller doing the same with a tilted head. The lights go out and strobelights flash. Red mist surrounds the ring as electronic organ and guitar screech in perfect companionship. The titantron flashes showing a screeching bat. The bat flies into the full moon showing a large castle in the darkness. The sound of a howling wolf is heard over the music.
Mayne: As if we didn't need anymore stuff happening before this match could begin. What's with this now, and why do I suddenly start recalling my childhood fears of Count Chochula?
Douglas: Shut up Billy, and maybe we'll get an explanation.
That same dark, gothic, towering castle continues to remain at the forefront of the screen before it flashes to a set of smiling, blood smeared lips, the tips of fangs poking out from between the claret smeared muscles.
Voice: The world has seen enough of the light.
The titantron changes to a darkened room with a steel coffin trimmed in gold in it. A set of hands are suddenly featured, the knuckles clinching in an ever so threatening manner as some type of fluid leaks from between his fingers.
Voice: The time has come for the darkness to reign.
A single hand appears from the coffin, starting to open it.
Voice: At Extinction... the purest bloodline of the Vampire returns.
The screen goes black while the word "Faust" covers it in blood.
Immediately everything goes back to normal as if nothing has happened. Chapel watches the screen still as 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. All the while he throws his Cartel title with disregard into the arms of the official, who was unlucky enough to be calling this outlandish contest. The cruel, malice eyes of David Miller follow Chapel’s every foot step, recalling every blow, every chop, every headbunt that the two exchanged last week as part of that sensational, blockbuster 6 person tag team contest.
Douglas: I'm not even going to attempt to understand the message we just saw, I've got enough on my mind already. The more I think about this the more I don’t like it. Don’t get me wrong, if anyone can hang with David Miller in a MMA style match, it probably be Chapel, not because of his technical knowledge, but because of his extremely high pain threshold. I’ve never known anyone who can take as much punishment as Chapel, but I don’t think he even knows the rules to this style of this contest.
Mayne: It’s never too late to teach an old dog new tricks. Of course if the dog is blind in one eye, and only has one testicle, and it’s hind legs don’t work, then yeah, it’s probably too late to teach them anything.
Dan: Why are you still speaking?
The official steps to the center of the ring, glancing between both men as they also move in his general direction. All the while referee Stuart Wright insists that they both lift their hands into the air and touch fists to get this contest started in a sportsmanlike manner. Neither individual budges as they glare into each other’s remorseless, emotionless eyes, devoid of all life and clouded with intense, inner, boiling rage. Once it becomes clear that they won’t touch fists, Stuart shrugs his shoulders, turning and motioning for the bell. As soon as it chimes Miller immediately gets himself into a fighting stance, his fists moving back and forth while pivoting feet, ready to use either of them to inflict pain on the War Angel. Chapel takes a deep breath and bends forward as both men move in circles around one another, their eyes constantly locked on each other’s faces, wondering who will make the first strike. Miller suddenly steps forward, throwing one of his ever so dangerous kicks right at Chapel’s face as he steps backwards to avoid it. The kick carries David into a full swing before he turns to face the War Angel once again, who appears somewhat thankful that he avoided the strike. Miller backs away with the slightest indication that a devilish smirk is starting to come to his face, obviously sending a message with that attempted kick.
Douglas: Chapel barely avoiding that kick from Miller, who almost seems to be toying with the War Angel initially. Which is not a smart move no matter how far the ball may be in your court.
Mayne: What the hell are you talking about; David doesn’t even have a ball?
Dan: Here, this is a penny, it’s shinny, admire it and stay quiet.
Billy: You don’t have to ask me twice.
Douglas: Another aspect of this match that people may find interesting, is that there apparently won’t be any rest periods at all. This won’t be fought in rounds, as I guess they don’t want to give any time for the King of Monsters to recuperate whatsoever.
Miller and Chapel begin to move in circles once more, their eyes focused on one another, again waiting for that initial strike to be attempted or landed. The King of Monsters takes a bold step towards Miller, reaching out for his leg only to have David lunge back to avoid it. As soon as he bends down for the leg, David steps in with a devastating right hand to the top of Chapel’s head, knocking him a bit loopy as a result. David realizes he has an opening, stepping in and throwing another punch at the War Angel’s head only for the Cartel Champion to place his hands around his skull. This allows Miller to step in with a knee to Chapel’s gut, bending him over forward as he lowers his arms away from his face. David now takes him around the back of the head and jumps into the air, beginning to deliver upward knee strikes directly to the face of his opponent. Each blow knocks Chapel backwards but they are not enough to take him off of his feet, while the crowd grasps and groans in the background. Their hands cup their mouths as they watch each stiff knee connect only for Chapel to reach out, catching hold of both Miller’s legs. He now hoists him up into the air with David on top of his shoulder, twisting him slightly and then dragging him down to the canvas back first. The War Angel climbs on top of David and begins to hammer down with closed fists into his face while his opponent wraps his legs around his waist, placing him in a body vice. In the same fluid motion he also gets one arm up above his head and catches one of Chapel’s as well, pulling it down under his armpit, holding it in place.
Dan: Chapel with a very nice amateur wrestling move. Where did he pull that out of?
Mayne: I’d say his ass buts there’s probably too much stuff already cluttered up in there for him to find anything. Oh, score another one for Billy.
Dan: If only you had the same ability to score in real life.
With his free hand the Cartel Champion slugs David repeatedly to his ribs, busting him up internally. All the while Miller squeezes at his ribs with all the strength of his legs, attempting to block the flow of blood and air throughout his body by shutting down the lungs. The War Angel goes for another strike to David’s ribs before he reaches up and grabs the back of his opponent’s head, pulling it down and trying to lock on a front chancery in order to trap him in the triangle choke. As soon as he attempts this quick transition into the submission he frees the other arm of Chapel who is able to pull his head back and begin to rain down on Miller’s face with closed fists. Both sides of David’s skull receive equal punishment via the punches of Miller who breaks the body vice with his legs, lifting his feet into the air and beginning to kick at his opponent with his heels. The bottom of his foot is launched right into Chapel’s nose, knocking him backwards as the giant stands up and David rolls in reverse right to his feet. A bit of blood is dribbling from the nostril of the King of Monsters already after that last kick while Miller backs towards the ropes, licking his lips, actually enjoying the fact that he’s getting a challenge in this MMA contest.
Billy: What the hell is this? Why isn’t David Miller whipping the floor with him right now?
Douglas: Chapel showing he’s much more sound at technical brawling than we though he was, scoring a take down on Miller then preceding to pummel him with those deadly closed fists. This contest is going to be more challenging than we though apparently, and…..wait a minute Billy, apparently I’m being told something into my headset right now.
Mayne: Please don’t tell me that Nathan Creed is calling again, his voice sounds like a mixture between Gilbert Godfried and Gary Coleman.
Dan: No, no, it’s not Nathan. Ladies and gentlemen, I hate to interrupt or drawl attention away from this MMA Challenge, but apparently those in charge backstage have just been informed that a huge, huge name is returning to the IWC tonight, and is on their way to the building!
Billy: What; a huge name returning tonight? How much more insanity can we cram into tonight’s telecast?
Miller rises slowly to his feet, swiping his thumb across his lip then looking at it to see if he’s bleeding or not. Surprisingly he isn’t leaking claret from his mouth or the massive wound that remains bandaged on his forehead after last week’s violent series of headbunts exchanged with Silencer. No matter what his physical condition would be, nothing will stop him from trying to inflict further punishment on the Cartel Champion, who he slowly begins to approach. Chapel does the same, hunching slightly to get a better reaching advantage should he go for the legs again. As soon as they step towards one another Miller throws a wild punch that misses and gives the War Angel a false sense of security, stepping in and throwing a boot at his gut. Suddenly David catches his shin against his ribs then reaches out with his own leg, sweeping Chapel’s other leg out from under him. He is sent tumbling backwards to the canvas as Miller drops down, wrapping his legs around the knee of the leg he had captured, trying to apply the ankle lock. The War Angel quickly steps up and begins to punch repeatedly at Miller’s knee, attempting to break the grapevine around his leg and stop the ankle lock from being established, however his efforts are in vain. David traps the ankle and begins to twist at it violently while it remains pressed to his chest, lying under it for further leverage. A roar of pain emanates from the Cartel Champion as he drops onto his back, his forearm striking the canvas in frustration and anguish as well.
Mayne: The ankle lock by Miller, this is over, it’s over ladies and gentlemen, time for a piss break.
Douglas: Sit down Billy, sit down right now. You don’t know that Chapel is done for here, you should realize after watching many of his hardcore, brutal battles in the past that it takes a lot to finish this man off.
Billy: Oh come off of it, Miller has got this thing won, meaning we can spend more time trying to deduce whomever this big returning name is going to be on their way to the building.
Dan: The match Billy, the match, that’s what important here.
The ankle of the War Angel is really being twisted violent, almost to the point where its snapped while referee Wright bends down over the violent giant, inquiring as to rather or not he wishes to submit. The determined Chapel refuses to give in though as he sits up and lifts the heel of his other leg into the air. He twists his body enough to begin kicking at one of Miller’s knees that are wrapped around his leg. The kicks are so brutal and forceful that it causes David to remove it from his leg, giving the King of Monsters more room to jostle and struggle his way out of this submission hold. As he sits up he begins to pull back on his trapped leg, dragging it towards his body and causing Miller to sit up ever so slowly. Just as he rises to his seat Chapel lifts his other foot into the air and kicks with all his force right into Miller’s face. The first shot isn’t enough to make David break the ankle lock though, forcing Chapel to do it once more, with even greater power behind it this time. The strike knocks David onto his back and causes him to break the ankle lock, Chapel sitting up and scurrying towards his laid out opponent quickly. He throws a fist at David’s face only for his arm to be caught within the grasp of his opponent. As soon as Miller gets the arm trapped he reaches up and wraps his free arm around the War Angel’s neck, rolling in reverse with great quickness. As soon as he rolls over backwards he pulls Chapel over with him, causing the massive religious zealot to end up landing on his back with Miller coming down on his posterior at his side. David wraps his legs around Chapel’s arm, trapping it in almost a modified grapevine then beginning to deliver repeatedly forearm strikes into his exposed face.
The forearm strikes are further opening up Chapel’s nose, truly busting him up before he reaches out with his arms, catching Miller’s inbound elbow and hooking it. The King of Monsters rolls to his side and pulls Miller over as well. David is sent rolling across the back of his shoulders onto his knees then scooting towards Chapel quickly, who has just gotten to a crawling base. Before his large opponent can get up, the viper like Miller begins to uncoil his wrath with repeated knee strikes directly to the top of his skull. Chapel tries to put his arms up for protection as knees are just rained down into his skull with great velocity and violence. As a result of such dangerous knee strikes, Wright steps in, making sure that Chapel is still conscious.
Mayne: Okay, it was a miracle that Chapel escaped the ankle lock, there’s no way now that he’s going to get away from these skull shattering knees.
Douglas: Each one of those knees has to feel like a baseball bat being swung into your cranium.
Billy: Yeah I know how that feels, when I was a kid my friends and I had a lot of free time on our hands.
Dan: Oh, who are you kidding, you didn’t have friends as a kid, hell, you still don’t have any now.
Another set of knees are delivered directly to the top of Chapel’s skull before the vicious MMA Messiah traps his neck with a front chancery. He is attempting to strangle the very life from his hefty opponent’s frame when Chapel stands up, placing his hands to David’s ribs then lifting him up into the air. To the shock of everyone Chapel is able to stand up straight with his hands still pressed to his opponent’s gut, throwing him up extremely high into the air. As a result of this upward toss David is forced to break the front chancery and now come crashing down to the canvas, hitting it with force before popping up onto his knees. As soon as he does a bleeding Chapel charges forward and delivers one of the sickest knee strikes right to David’s face that has ever been heard. The stiffness seems to immediately knock Miller unconscious as he crashes onto his back, his eye beginning to swell up as a result of such a disgusting strike. The King of Monsters steps forward and sits down on David’s chest, starting to drill him repeatedly to the face with closed fists over and over again from the mounted position.
Dan: What a knee by Chapel, and now he’s in that mounted position, just raining down with forearm strikes directly into the skull of Miller. David has to be out cold at this point, absolutely and completely unconscious!
Mayne: If he isn’t it’s a damn miracle after that knee to the skull.
The crowd is screaming with each forearm and punch into David’s face, which has still shockingly not opened the head wound he’s got bandaged on his skull. Wright bends down in front of the furious War Angel, begging him to stop before he looks up into the official’s face, yelling at him in anger. That brief distraction allows Miller to sit up, grabbing the back of Chapel’s head and driving his fist directly into his face repeatedly. All the punches are directed at Chapel’s eye, starting to welt it up and causing the King of Monsters to rise to his feet slowly albeit slouched over. That’s when David pushes himself up onto the back of his shoulders, lifting his legs into the air and wrapping them around Chapel’s neck. He pulls his arm through the legs as well as he traps his much larger opponent in the triangle choke. The crowd is screaming as Miller establishes this hold, really clamping it on tightly as Chapel tumbles to one knee almost immediately having the life strangled from his skull by the thick, powerful legs of his opposition.
Mayne: A beautiful counter right into the triangle choke!
Dan: Miller has Chapel trapped in this submission hold ladies and gentlemen, and even though Billy has predicted the wrongful conclusion of this contest about four times in the span of three minutes, I’m going to have to be the one to do it this time. There may be no escape from this triangle choke being established by the MMA Messiah.
David sits up with an utterly twisted expression on his face, deriving great joy as he strips his opponent of all his energy and keeps air from reaching the brain of the big man. The longer the hold is maintained the further Chapel slouches forward, saliva dripping from the corner of his mouth as he begins to faint from the pain. There is absolutely no escape for the War Angel at this point as he drops down into almost a laid out position, only for his palm to defiantly press to the canvas, his eyes suddenly becoming ripe with devotion. Somehow he actually begins to power his way up to his feet, pushing Miller onto the back of his shoulders as he attempts to keep the triangle choke locked in. The crowd is screaming and slapping the barricades, rallying in support for Chapel, trying to empower him with the strength to stand up and fight free from this hold. There cheers and pleas seem to fuel the King of Monsters as he gets up to his feet, albeit still bent over forward and trapped in this lethal, neck breaking triangle choke. Miller twists his body enough to get the back of one of his shins to press directly to the throat of his large, imposing opposition, beginning to choke him with the referee unaware of this slight bending of the rules. As a result Chapel begins to weaken, slowly lowering back to his knees, falling to them and finding himself doubled over forward with his head still trapped between his opponent’s thick, powerful legs. Miller’s teeth flash vindictively as he puts all his strength into the triangle choke, almost killing the King of Monsters who is refusing to give up as he slowly passes out.
Billy: Chapel is fading ever so slowly but steadily. He’s on the verge of passing out Dan, and there’s not going to be any type of bell that will save him.
Douglas: Stop the match already Stuart or Chapel may die. He’d rather perish than ever give up.
Billy: He and I have something in common then.
Dan: Billy, you’d tap out if you stubbed your damn toe.
The crowd is screaming as Chapel’s eyes flutter closed, the official stepping in to fulfill his obligation and check on the War Angel. As soon as he does he realizes this match is over, standing up and beginning to motion for the bell. Before he can finish this task Chapel reaches out and grabs him by the shirt, taking hold of it firmly then using the official to start pulling himself back to his feet. Miller’s eyes open widely, in shock that Chapel is somehow finding the strength to fight through this triangle choke, Wright also stunned as he attempts to pull his shirt free of the War Angel’s grasp. He finally does so as Chapel rises to his feet then shows the unmitigated power to hoist Miller up into the air with a dead lift off the canvas. It ends up with David seated on top of Chapel’s shoulders basically as he continues to hold onto the triangle choke. That’s when the King of Monsters drops backwards, causing David to come down crashing face first right into the ring. The collision sends the fans into an uproar, everyone going nuts as Miller bashes into the ring then rolls onto his back, appearing momentarily stunned by such an impact. The very exhausted Chapel sits up, his features submerged in sweat as he turns towards Miller, who is also attempting to fight his way to his feet after that brutal exchange with the ring. Just as he starts to stand up Chapel steps in and blasts him to the face with a forearm strike, almost losing his balance as he throws the shot. He then steps in and delivers another forearm to the side of David’s face before taking him by the head, bending it forward in order to place him in the front chancery. Just as he does Miller breaks free and steps to Chapel’s side, delivering a brutal kick directly to the back of his thigh. Chapel lowers down as a result, reaching for his thigh which allows Miller to step in and deliver a blatant headbunt directly to the back of his massive opponent’s skull. Chapel falls to his knees as a result before Miller steps in with another illegal shot as he drives his elbow into the back of his opponent’s neck, knocking him down to the canvas even further. The official doesn’t appear to be that well educated in an MMA style match, having no idea these shots are construed as completely illegal.
Somehow Chapel is still on his knees and elbows refusing to go down until Miller delivers an insanely stiff kick right to the back of his head, knocking him out once and for all.
Mayne: What vile, violent shots right to the back of the head!! A normal man would be decapitated by now, or at least have some kind of major brain damage. Of course that be an impossibility in Chapel’s case, considering the state his bruised brain is already in.
Douglas: All of these shots to the back of the head and neck are completely illegal though and Miller knows it!
Chapel finally drops to his chest and stomach with Miller stepping away, an irate glint in his eyes as the official jumps in his way. They then turn back towards Chapel, bending forward to check on his condition and then realizing that he’s been completely rendered unconscious. He stands and motions for the bell, confirming that Miller has just won this MMA match.
Billy: Hahahaha, Miller won it, he’s knocked out Chapel. Who can say they’ve ever done that before?
Douglas: Yeah, and all it took were some deliberate illegal blows to the back of the head. Miller be banned from MMA for such violations with those strikes!
Mayne: Stop belly aching already. Pat Evans’ plan worked out perfectly tonight, because not only did David Miller win, but he may have injured Chapel in the process. That’s like a bonus or something, like a free cupcake in a pack of two.
A loud chorus of boos originate from the fans, everyone outraged over the way this contest just concluded, including Chapel, if he were conscious that is. An infuriated David Miller storms towards the official causing Stuart Wright to quickly scurry from the ring like a frightened child as a result. He dives to the outside and begins to rush up the ramp, surprisingly passing right by Pat Evans who has just emerged on the stage. The fans have even more reason to be infuriated as they now behold the sight of the in ring technician, Pat Evans casually strolling down the ramp without his Submission title for a change. Miller’s eyes meet with Evans’ as he stops half way down the ramp, sticking his arms out to his sides while shrugging his shoulders.
Mayne: Hahaha, Chapel just got knocked out and possibly had his spine separated from his skull, and now to make matters worse on the big stupid lug, Pat Evans has come out to gloat.
Douglas: Chapel wouldn’t have even been in this match if it weren’t for Evans’ manipulation backstage, and now he’s just lost due to several stiff, career threatening blows to the neck, right when it seemed that he was starting to come back in this MMA bout.
Pat steps towards the ring now before moving around the squared circle in the direction of the time keeper, who is also holding the Cartel Championship. At the same time Miller is shouting through the ropes, requesting a microphone which is promptly handed to him by a frightened Kaily, who has already had her fair share of physicality for one evening. She obliges by handing over her microphone as Miller backs towards the center of the ring and Pat Evans now makes his way up the steps with the Cartel title draped over his shoulder.
Miller: SILENCER! You little profanity spewing, unoriginal son of a bitch! You want to threaten me at the start of tonight’s show, insinuating that your going to come after me, well I’ve been waiting all night long and I’ve still seen nothing. For someone as tiny and pathetic as yourself, you sure do talk a big game….
The fans boo before Miller’s devilish eyes cross over them, immediately causing the crowd to shudder as well as fall quiet. After he knocked Chapel out with one kick it’s quite obvious that the last thing they want to do is get on his bad side. Speaking of an unconscious King of Monsters, he now must face the indignity of having Pat Evans drop down to his knees in front of him, holding up the Cartel Championship. Although he’s not usually inclined to fits of smack talking that’s exactly what Pat is doing right now, holding up the head of his rival by the jaw and almost rubbing his own title belt right in his face.
Pat: You better get a good look at this now Chapel, really embrace your title, because at Extinction I’m going to deprive you of it, and teach you another of life’s all too important lessons.
Miller can care less about what Pat is teaching Chapel, seemingly completely unaware of his presence as he storms back and forth in the ring with the microphone still clutched in his hand.
David: Come on Silencer, I’m right here, what better time than now to capitalize on your threat, to make good on your promise to inflict damage on me? As if such a prospect is even remotely possible, as I’ve just proven by taking everything the so called “King of Monsters” could thraw at me, and I didn’t even break a sweat!
More boos threaten to drown out Miller’s cruel, vindictive voice.
Mayne: This is great Dan, two feuds heading into Extinction intertwining here. We have David Miller calling out the man he’ll face at Extinction in Silencer, and we’ve got Pat Evans playing mental games with one of his two opponents at the same pay-per-view for the Cartel title.
Douglas: I don’t think I’d use the word “great” to describe this. I’d use the word “repulsive.”
Billy: You always use that word, it’s lost all meaning by now.
Strangely, although he displays no outward emotion, Miller seems to be growing bored with the long wait for Silencer to answer his demands. As a result David shakes his head and begins to move towards the cables.
David: I’m ashamed Silencer, I really am. I thought with you there was a little more than meets the eye, yet just like everyone else you cower at the feet of David Miller. Therefore I’m not going to stand idly by and wait for you to muster the testicular fortitude to come out here and make good on your false promise, instead I’m going to the back and I’m going to force you to face up your statements.
David simply lets the mic slip through his palm and drop to the canvas as he approaches the ropes, passing by Evans who is still rubbing the Cartel title in the face of Chapel, one of the men he’ll face for that very belt at Extinction in the triple threat between them and Axl Evermore. Miller’s hand reaches out and grabs the top rope when the lights in the building suddenly go out, sending the fans into a massive ovation. They start to scream as everything is enveloped in shadows, unable to see so much as a foot ahead of them.
Billy: Oh no, oh God no. I hate the dark, it’s when the aliens come, mostly.
Douglas: For the last time Billy, you are not the little girl from Aliens, no matter how hard you try to be, but I’m just as tentative and worried as yourself about this sudden darkness, it can only lead to bad things.
There is only a bit of light thrown off by the titontron now which fills with static, the sound of it also heard throughout the arena. The static on the big screen continues to send chills through the fans, realizing that something big is about to happen. Suddenly the lights come up with Silencer standing in the ring, holding a Singapore cane in his hands. Surprisingly David Miller is no longer in the squared circle but a standing, confused Pat Evans is. He turns towards Silencer who steps in with the cage held high, causing Pat to drop to the canvas quickly and roll under the ropes to avoid him. The fans are screaming loudly, everyone going nuts as Silencer looks up from Evans, glaring to the top of the ramp where Miller is now standing. Cleverly, instead of remaining in the ring to be a sitting duck he quickly vacated it the second the lights went out, now standing with a great deal of space created between himself and his Extinction opponent.
Douglas: Silencer standing in the ring with a Singapore cane, and both David Miller and Pat Evans barely avoided his wrath!
Mayne: David was out of there the second the lights dimmed, knowing that Silencer wouldn’t come alone.
Silencer smirks oh so demonically in the direction of David who is still standing on the stage, nodding his head dramatically. The former Champion begins to pace around the ring twirling the cane in his fingers then stopping as he points it directly at Miller, who is breathing very hard, very intensely. Suddenly David rips the bandage off his forehead and begins to punch himself repeatedly to the scar that Silencer created last week. As a result blood begins to spew down David’s face, creating a rather disturbing scene. Soon his face is submerged in a river of blood that he created, with the only thing clear beneath the crimson being the whites of his deranged, emotionless eyes. Silencer stares at him before extending his tongue and curling it at the tip as if getting a twisted amusement out of what he is seeing.
Billy: What the hell is Miller doing? My God he just busted himself open to almost gory levels.
Douglas: This man is absolutely psychotic, and appears to get more insane every time he’s eye to eye with Silencer. What are these two men going to do to each other at Extinction?
Mayne: Who knows, but something tells me that I’m going to need a barf bag to endure it.
The demented Silencer continues to stare through the bloodied face of the deranged Miller, both men well aware of the war they shall endure as part of Extinction.
NO ADMITTANCE
The reaction from the crowd is one of disarray and confusion as through the backstage corridor the ever turbulent Psycho and the equally as demented Killjoy stroll side by side. To further complicate matters the Master of the Mind Games is seemingly trying to reason with the Sadistic One, attempting to get into his head as they continue to progress down the hallway. All the while Psycho’s head hangs shamefully, not providing a response and trying his best not to listen to the well educated rambling of his arch rival turn tag team partner for the impending Extinction.
Killjoy: Psycho, I know your not exactly all there in the head right now but you need to hear me out. Last week you made a promise to me that you broke twenty minutes later when you threatened to throw Brooks off the top of the Manhattan Center.
The thought of sending Brooks plummeting to her death does mildly amuse Psycho, although he’s well aware that it shouldn’t.
Killjoy: Now I’ve been a lot of things in my life, and I’ve been accused of being a lot more, but what I’ve never been is a liar, a deceiver maybe, but never a liar. Rather you trust me or not, I’ve always been a man of my word, and I thought I could expect at least that much out of you as well.
There is still no response from the Sadistic One, his moody features aimed towards the floor with his eyes vacant of emotion.
Killjoy: God dammit Psycho would you listen to me for five seconds, you owe me that much.
The conversation begins to become much more heated as Killjoy grabs the fibers of Psycho’s shirt, clinging to it tightly and turning him so that they are eye to eye, one monster gazing into the twisted soul of the other. As soon as their eyes interlock, Psycho finally offers up a response.
Psycho: I don’t owe you jack shit.
It appears that the words slip through his lips without even pondering his response first. Instead of outraging his partner, Killjoy instead grins slightly, backing away from his partner at Extinction while crossing his arms over his large sternum.
Killjoy: Is that right? You don’t owe me for constantly saving your ass over the past few weeks? You don’t owe me when it was my oh so brilliant plot to abduct Hurse, and give you just a little time to inflict torture on him? You don’t owe me when I’ve been trying to keep you from going over the edge, from doing something that will send you into such a downward spiral into your own dementia that there is no escape? The request I made last week wasn’t because I was interested in protecting Robin at Extinction, it was for your own sake Psycho. If you do to her what AWOL wants you to do, there’s no turning back, you’ll have to live with your actions for the rest of your life. You may think it’s easy, but take it from me, it becomes harder to look yourself in the mirror every day. Just open up your mind Psycho, hear me out, listen for a change, and yes, you do owe that to me. In fact, you owe me more than you’ll ever know, because regardless of rather we’ve been beating the hell out of each other for years to gory proportions you came out of our battles all the more stronger, and all the better because of it. Leave Robin to me, let me handle the situation so that you don’t do something your going to regret for the rest of your life.
Although it pains him Psycho forces himself to listen to the philosophical statements, his head lowering in the process. He finds his mind continuing to be pulled in a multitude of different directions, yet he can’t help but to rationalize what Killjoy is telling him, no matter how much hatred he may have for the individual providing said lecture. Killjoy stares at him for several moments, ensuring that his words have finally sunken through that incredibly thick skull of the Sadistic One. That’s when a door pops open at their side and to the crowd’s dismay, Sallie emerges with a cell phone held to her ear and several of her personal security guards following her. As usual they’re decked out from head to toe in riot gear, holding batons stretched out across their palms. At first the furious Sallie doesn’t even notice the two hardcore beasts occupying her side, more predisposed with the phone call as she stops just outside of her door.
Sallie: Okay I’m only going to say this one more time, and if I have to repeat myself I swear to God you’ll be fired faster than it takes someone to pin Nathan Creed. I really don’t need to deal with your stupidity right now, I’ve got two idiots on their way to the building as it is, and now there’s some big name apparently making their return to tonight’s telecast, I can’t deal with any more stress…
It’s quite clear at this point, especially as she starts to rub at her temple anxiously, that the conversation has got her quite unnerved.
Sallie: Now listen very carefully so that I don’t lose you this time. I want security posted at every single entrance to this arena, I don’t want there to be even the slimmest possibility that either Orlando Cruze or Nathan Creed can get into this building tonight. I want every entrance locked, barred, chained, whatever, just make sure there is no way that either of those two can set foot in the Manhattan Center. Anyone who isn’t wrestling tonight is not allowed admittance, with the exception of this so called big returning star, is that clear? Good. Now, I want you to go and talk to that phone tracing specialist who wee got in touch with after Orlando’s call earlier in the night, because I want to find out if he’s finished his trace yet, so that we’ll know just how close Creed and Cruze actually are to the building…
Suddenly Sallie turns and finally takes notice of Killjoy arguing with Psycho, her face filling with conviction.
Sallie: Hold on a minute.
The phone is lowered from her ear as she steps straight towards the Master of the Mind Games, the very individual who has been a thorn in Hurse’s side for months now.
Sallie: Excuse me, but what the hell are you doing here?
At first Killjoy barely even acknowledges her presence as he’s got more pressing matters on his mind, such as ensuring Psycho’s mind is where it should be tonight.
Killjoy: None of your fucking business, I’ll go where I want to go.
Sallie is taken aback by such blatant audacity.
Sallie: Really? Well I beg to differ sir, because if your not wrestling tonight you have no reason to be backstage or in this building, now do you? But we can fix that now can’t we? Security, escort this bum from the building and make sure he doesn’t get back in.
Killjoy begins to shake his head as if disgusted by Sallie’s decision, especially as security begins to surround him, flashing their batons in a threatening manner. One of them reaches out for Killjoy’s shoulder only to have his hand slapped away as the Master of the Mind Games points into his face in a very threatening manner.
Killjoy: You keep your God damn hands off of me, if you want me to leave, I’ll leave on my own, but nothing is going to keep me from the building at Extinction.
As he begins to walk away between the security guards his eyes flash in the direction of Psycho, ensuring that he got the message. The Sadistic One nods his head slowly with twisted emotions until his tag partner is removed from the scene. That’s when his fiery eyes transfer to the smug features of Sallie, who remains in front of him, surprisingly displaying no fear whatsoever.
Sallie: And you sir, better be on your best behavior. Meaning that you had best keep a distance between yourself and our precious World Heavyweight Champion. So make sure you keep your hands to yourself and feet away from his testicles.
Without warning Psycho steps away from the wall and barrels down on his vindictive boss, causing her to bend over backwards in a fearful pose. The former World Champion is snarling, his breaths escaping from his nostrils almost in the form of flames. All the while Sallie’s teeth chatter a little out of terror, finding herself face to face with this beast who appears as if he’d enjoy ripping her head off like she were his sister’s Barbie doll. Suddenly Psycho turns and moves down the corridor, leaving a shocked Sallie standing there with confliction clear in her blinking eyes.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
GO TO A GOOD WRESTLING SCHOOL, NUFF SAID
AWAITING THE ARRIVAL
The camera cuts to the entrance to the enclosed parking lot where yellow shirts are standing shoulder to shoulder with one another, big burly lads who appear very physically imposing. Behind their backs are gentlemen dressed in riot gear, Sallie and Krissie’s privately hired and financed security force. There are at least a dozen of these armor clad individuals, impatiently batting their batons against their palms and looking out from behind their bullet proof masks, keeping an ever so watchful eye on the entrance to the Manhattan Center.
Billy: My God, there’s a small army waiting in the parking lot for Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed.
Douglas: Indeed, Sallie and Krissie have obviously spared no expense to ensure that there isn’t even the slightest possibility that either Cruze or Creed can get into this building.
Mayne: Its about time they put their foot down and flexed their authoritative muscles, no matter how puny they may actually be.
Dan: I just don’t like this scenario whatsoever, it can only…..wait a minute, there’s a car arriving backstage as we speak.
The security force perk up a bit as headlights flash over them a long black limo pulling into the backstage, private enclosed parking structure. It’s long, sleek, and very fashionable, showing no hesitation as it creeps slowly in the direction of security, the large figures in the yellow shirts immediately approaching the vehicle and surrounding it. The limo comes to a stop as one of the bigger security guards taps at the tinted back window, which rows down slowly. He sticks his head instead the limo, looking around then retracting his cranium as he smirks and nods to whomever is inside. Strangely a five dollar bill is handed out the back window to the guard, who seems bewildered as he awkwardly takes it. Finally the limo pulls forward as security clears out of the way, the security officer overlooking the five dollar bill as he shrugs his shoulders.
Mayne: Well that’s obviously not Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed. But who is it then? Is it the big returning name? Is it?
Douglas: It might just be Billy. I’m sure no matter what I say you’ll still speculate.
Mayne: Damn straight.
THE ROGUE SQUADRON VS. THE ALPHA GENERATION
IWC TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP
The camera comes back live to the inside of the Manhattan Center, where the crowd is more enthused than ever, even considering the impending bout they’ll have to endure. Placed at ringside, as a clue to the anxious crowd what’s up next, are a set of glimmering tag team title belts positioned on top of a stand. The small steel cell/cage is still present at ringside as well, a friendly reminder of what Desolation will be in for later tonight.
Douglas: Ladies and gentlemen, after two months the time has finally come for us to declare the very first IWC Tag Team Champions. After what was one hell of a competitive tournament with some odd twists and turns, we find ourselves here at the finals, with the belts about to be placed on the line, as the Rogue Squadron of Christian Savior & Adam Riddick take on the Alpha Generation of No Holds Barred Champion Desolation & World Heavyweight Champion Hurse.
Billy: The two most deserving tag teams justly find themselves in the finals of this tournament after surviving some of the most vicious confrontations we’ve ever seen.
Dan: Yes, where both teams barely skirted by.
Mayne: Whatever are you getting at Dan?
Douglas: Well, neither of these teams exactly made it through the tournament fairly now did they?
Mayne: Oh Dan, you and your alcohol.
The arena lights dim and the opening chords of the Rolling Stones' "Paint it Black" echo throughout the arena. Red lights flash and mist appears on the Jumbotron. The harsh, synthetic guitars of "Fever Dream" kick in.
The Jumbotron show a pair of black jackboots marching in time with the beat. In the faded mist past atrocities committed by the Dark Man, Desolation can be seen.
A red serpent's eye pulses with a red glow in the background, the glaring, sinister smiling face of Desolation appearing in the center.
Red lights flash on and off in time with the tune, and a column of red flame explodes in the center of the entry ramp, revealing the Dark Man in the entryway. Standing rather tentatively behind him is the World Heavyweight Champion Hurse, his title glistening over his shoulder. Gold also glistens around Desolation, as the N.H.B Championship hangs from his grasp and a stoic expression resides on his face, the remaining two members of the Alpha Generation moving towards the ring for their tag team tournament match. The Dark Man only briefly pauses as he examines the small, human sized cage at ringside, shaking his head at the mere sight of it, realizing he will be forced inside of the steel structure and handed over to the winner of Jon Rich and Axl Evermore later this evening, as if such a thought even remotely troubles him.
Desolation walks to the ring, head lowered. He climbs up into a kneeling position on the ring apron, arms entwined in the ropes, a sadistic smile on his face as he holds the pose for a few moments. Hurse steps up onto the apron behind him and motions repeatedly with his fingers in the direction of the Dark Man, even dropping to his knees and clapping upwards, truly honoring his tag team partner. Desolation slowly lifts his arm into the air, holding his clinched fist up high then sliding through the ropes, Hurse rolling in as well.
Mayne: Feast your eyes on them Dan, this is the closest your going to get to a celebrity without having to go through their trash. This is the Alpha Generation, two of the greatest champions in the history of this company.
Douglas: Indeed, so great that one hasn’t defended his belt yet, and the other depends on others to constantly help him maintain his strangle hold on the belt. Great champions indeed, Billy.
Billy: That better not be sarcasm I detect in your tone. Sooner or later your going to have to warm up to these magnificent athletes, especially since they’re about to capture the IWC Tag Team Titles, adding even more gold to their already heavy waists. Not heavy because their fat of course, I know Hurse does palates, and five, count them, five, push ups every other morning.
Dan: Wonderful.
Mayne: If you’d just learn to have some respect for the chain of command Dan, you’d be more happy. Just look at me, since I have the ability to recognize talent when I see it, I’ve received a raise.
Douglas: You’ve got to be kidding me, you don’t even do any work! Hell, you even take naps through some of the matches
”And I aint gonna be just a face in the crowd...
You're gonna hear my voice when I shout it out loud...
Hurse and Desolation stare towards the entry way while getting themselves physically prepared for the impending confrontation, with the World Champion surprisingly wearing a grin on his smug features at the sound of Bon Jovi’s “It’s My Life.” Through the curtains now strolls two individuals that cause the hatred from the fans to be increased, forced to set their sights on both Adam Riddick and Christian Savior. Kassie is not present at this point in time, Riddick obviously feeling that backstage be a much safer environment. Both men move towards the ring now, where the danger lies as Adam slaps a few hands, many of the fans still rallied in support for him, their bitterness mostly directed upon Savior. A smirking Christian moves towards the ring with the stolen X-Class title belt over his shoulder as Hurse points from the squared circle directly at him, giving a thumbs up. Christian forces a grin as well and gives two thumbs up to Hurse, as if their all buddy, buddy. Both he and Riddick only stop for a moment to examine the Tag Team Title belts loaded on the podium and off to the side of their path. They observe the belts for a moment with Riddick reaching out and hitting the side of his fist against one of them. They now jump onto the apron, glaring into the ring at the Alpha Generation as Hurse is assuring Desolation that everything with go smoothly, yet the Dark Man fails to share such confidence.
Mayne: I love Bon Jovi, and I love the Rogue Squadron. Last week they proved they could be real team players, working hand in hand with the Alpha Generation to stop Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed from cheating their way into the finals of this tournament.
Douglas: How, what, why, your idiocy has me dumbfounded, yet you get a raise and I don’t? How is that possible?
Billy: The money goes to those who are the better entertainers. Although that statement doesn’t make much sense if you consider how much Tom Cruise makes per picture.
Adam and Christian slip through the ropes into the ring and move towards Desolation and Hurse who step out of the corner. Both teams are eye to eye with one another, a bit of tension in the air no matter how much the World Champion smirks. In a friendly manner he extends his hand and shakes Christian’s out stretched palm. He then turns towards Riddick, who refuses to reciprocate the handshake, causing Hurse to look down at his extended hand which he awkwardly pulls back. Christian reaches out to shake Desolation’s hand now before the Dark Man yawns and backs away, Savior left in the same predicament that Hurse was. Both teams slowly back away from one another as Savior scowls at Desolation then turns towards his brother, requesting that he start this match out. At the same time Hurse is insisting he steps into the ring on behalf of his team, which Desolation shrugs, not having a problem with. The same cannot be said for those occupying the other side of the ring though, as Riddick is quite determined to face Hurse, much to Christian’s chagrin as he raises his hands and slips through the ropes onto the apron. Hurse now turns and is almost floored as Riddick steps to the center of the ring, immediately beginning to ask himself what happened to Christian.
Douglas: It looks like World Champion Hurse and Adam Riddick of the Rogue Squadron are going to start out this historic match against one another. I still can’t believe two of the most repulsive teams in the IWC are about to face off for the honor or becoming our first tag team champions.
Mayne: They may be repulsive to you, but you can’t deny their talent. I just pray that we don’t see a repeat of the brawl between Riddick and Hurse like we got a few weeks ago, that most certainly would not be good.
The bell chimes away in the background while Riddick and Hurse begin to circle one another, the Champion very tentative it appears. Nevertheless both men now step forward and find themselves in a collar elbow lock, pushing against each other in an attempt to get the early advantage here at the outset of their match. Riddick quickly seizes that advantage, swinging around under Hurse’s arm and placing it in the ringer. The Champion is doubled over forward by this submission before Riddick changes it up into a hammerlock, stepping behind Hurse and folding his arm against his spine. Hurse stomps his feet, almost as if he’s pouting as a result of the pain coursing through his arm. That’s before he reaches back and wraps his arm around Riddick’s head, snapmaring him over his shoulder and onto the canvas as he dropped to a single knee. Riddick hits the ring posterior first then rolls to a crawling base, scowling at Hurse who backs away with his arms extended out to his sides.
Hurse: What are you doing, your not suppose to make me look bad. This is live you know?
Hurse points a camera as Riddick rises to his feet and tilts his head in a sad, apologetic manner. That’s before he throws a fist right into the jaw of Hurse, taking him down to the canvas across his back then bending down, grabbing hold of his wrist. He pulls up on it and causes Hurse to sit up before dragging the arm around behind his back. Adam falls to his knees behind Hurse, applying the hammerlock to great anger from the Champion, who’s feet once again kick at the canvas. A sigh noticeably emanates from Savior, who doesn’t like how his brother is starting this match at all it appears. Riddick continues to twist at the arm of Hurse who is trying to force himself up to his feet only to have Adam alter the submission once again. This time he uses his legs to trap Hurse’s arm in a hammerlock variation as he stands up and wraps his hands around his head as well, twisting at it with a modification of the cravat. The crowd surprisingly cheers at the sight of the double submission being locked in by Riddick, who is surprisingly owning the former Submission Champion. Hurse is getting really frustrated at this point while Desolation has his face in his palm, embarrassed by his partner’s performance thus far. Nevertheless the Champion begins to force his way to his feet, causing Riddick to break the hammerlock and now step around in front of him, applying the neck cravat properly.
Douglas: Even though Hurse appeared interested in getting this match off to a friendly pace, or thought that Riddick was going to pull his punches, things have started out rather heated with Riddick going right at the Champion.
Mayne: Um, uh, although I thought these guys were going to be on the same page, it seems that Riddick has his own agenda. Which I guess is okay as long as after this match he and the Alpha Generation are still on speaking terms, and will be reunited over the bloodied, bludgeoned bodies of Creed and Cruze.
Adam is really twisting at the head of his Alpha opponent, about to remove it from his shoulders until Hurse reaches out, placing his palms to Riddick’s ribs and shoving him away. Some space has been created between them when Hurse goes into a spin, kicking the back of Riddick’s knee in the process, causing him to break the submission and trip over backwards in the process. He lands on his back as Hurse turns towards him, dropping to his knees at his side then grabbing hold of his arm. The now miffed Hurse bends the Renegade’s arm over backwards into a version of the top wrist lock. He really has hold of it before Adam sits up, trying to escape, promptly Hurse to change up the hold, modifying it by slipping behind his back then pulling the arm across Riddick’s throat. He tries to get a camel clutch established, but is having trouble doing so as Adam rises to his feet then begins to push himself backwards across the ring. His spine is pressed against Hurse as he shoves him back first directly into the enemy turnbuckle. The Alpha Generation member’s arms fall over the cables as Riddick reaches out, tagging in Savior. As soon as he makes the tag, Adam turns, taking Hurse by the head and snapmaring him out of the corner right onto his bum. Hurse reaches for his rear end while Adam rushes forward and delivers a dropkick right to the back of his cranium. Hurse grabs at his neck while Adam stands up at his side, grabbing hold of his ankle and lifting up on it. He rolls his opponent right over onto his feet directly in front of Savior who has entered the ring and is now seated on the top rope. As soon as he reaches his feet, Savior places his knee to Hurse’s upper back and drops forward off the turnbuckle. He drags Hurse down face first into the canvas while colliding with all his weight behind his knee, which is planted hard into the Champion’s back. Immediately after connecting with the move Christian drops into a forward roll directly onto his feet.
He sticks his arms out to his sides in a pose that makes the females in the audience get nauseous. Nevertheless Savior raises to his feet as Riddick grabs Hurse by the shoulder, standing him up then shoving him backwards directly into the turnbuckle. Hurse hits against it spine first with arms dangling over the cables and keeping him upright just long enough for Savior and Riddick to both step in with vicious knife edge chips to both sides of his sternum. Hurse’s legs kick up into the air while he tumbles onto his posterior, Riddick finally vacating the ring while Christian reaches down, taking the Champion by his ankles. He lifts up on them and steps back, trying to pull him out of the corner only for Hurse to flip over backwards, surprisingly landing directly on his feet then stepping forward, interlocking his hands around the back of Savior’s head before dropping down into a jaw breaker. Savior staggers backwards as a result while Hurse stands then jumps into the air, connecting with a high heel kick right to Christian’s face. He is taken down to the canvas across his back while Hurse lands on his knees at his side, glaring at his down opponent in frustration. Hurse now shrugs his shoulders, as if asking why Savior is doing this to him before he grabs hold of his hair, dragging him over onto his knees then taking him by the wrist. He swings around under, applying an arm ringer and backing towards his corner, where he promptly makes the tag to Desolation.
Mayne: Why did things between both these teams have to break down so quickly? I thought they were all on the same page going into this. It was suppose to be a nice, fair, straight up match, but now it’s becoming, *gasp* personal.
Douglas: That’s what happens when you get four egos this big in a ring at the same time.
Desolation enters the ring and quickly drives the point of his elbow down directly into the outstretched bicep of Savior, causing him to wince in pain. The Dark Man takes hold of his wrist now and swings under it, placing him in the arm ringer while Hurse steps towards Christian’s opposite side. He takes his other arm and spins under as well, both of Christian’s arms trapped in double ringers. That’s when both Desolation and Hurse deliver scintillating buzzsaw kicks directly to his chest, knocking Christian down onto his back while both men continue to hold onto his wrists. Both men pull up on his wrists and cause Savior to stand right back up before they drag down on those same wrists, tucking them under his posterior, in turn forcing Christian to bend forward. Now Desolation and Hurse simultaneously begin to lift up on the hands of Savior, causing both of his wrists to crotch himself repeatedly. With each upward tug, Savior jumps into the air, gasping in pain while the crowd surprisingly laughs. Desolation forces Hurse to hold onto both hands now while he rushes backwards into the cables, bouncing off then getting a running start as he steps in and delivers a vicious upward kick right into Savior’s entirely exposed face. Christian is sent flying backwards and landing on his spine as Hurse slaps his palms together and glares down at his opponent as if he’s been greatly disrespected. Hurse slips through the ropes while Desolation takes over on Christian, a man he developed quite a bit of animosity towards a couple weeks ago.
Douglas: Desolation now entering this match and you know he doesn’t play favorites.
Mayne: Oh jeez, this is the one time I’d wish Desolation wasn’t such a permanent grump. Although I did like the fact that he and Hurse were doing the ever so creative double Texas Sawhorse.
Dan: Please quit making up names for their outlandish tag team moves, otherwise it inspires them to keep using these ridiculous maneuvers.
The ever so angered Desolation steps towards Savior, placing his foot directly into his face and twisting it back and forth as official Ingelson jumps in front of the Dark Man, demanding that he cease and desist his cheating ways. The Dark Man finally removes his boot from his opponent’s face as Christian rolls slowly to his knees, trying to force himself to his feet. He is unable to do it as Desolation steps in, grabbing the back of his head and beginning to deliver upward shin kicks right to his face repeatedly. Each blow threatens to take Savior down to the canvas before Desolation steps in and clamps on, you guessed it, a side headlock submission hold. He wraps his arms around the neck of his opponent, Savior trying to push him off it seems only to alternate his strategy. Instead he lifts his foot, placing it to the back of Desolation’s knee and shoving down on it, forcing the Dark Man to drop a kneeling base while still holding his opponent in the side headlock. That’s when Christian reaches out, placing his hand across the back of Desolation’s head and surprisingly flipping forward, right over top the shoulders of his opponent. He lands with remarkable grace on his feet at Desolation’s opposite side then turns, clamping on a side headlock submission of his own, the crowd surprisingly clapping at the sight of the unique reversal. A flustered Desolation places his hand to Savior’s back, shoving him forward right at the cables, which Christian jumps into the air and lands on feet first. He springs off the second ropes backwards as Desolation stands only to be caught with a springboard side headlock takedown. Desolation is flipped over onto his spine, laid out with Christian holding onto the side headlock, his back pressed to his opponent’s chest.
Douglas: Now we’re back into a feeling out process here between Savior and Desolation. Boy was the match between these two a couple weeks ago ever hectic?
Mayne: And sadly that’s the route this match seems to be going down. Why can’t these guys just get along for the span of one match, why?
Douglas: For one, every individual in this match, maybe with the exception of Riddick, are all back stabbers, and secondly, there’s title gold on the line.
Savior is still clamping his arms tightly about the neck of Desolation, who’s frustration is increasingly escalating. Therefore he now lifts his legs up into the air, wrapping them around Christian’s neck and pulling his head over in reverse into the head scissors submission. Savior pushes back onto his shoulders then tries to nip up and out of the submission only to find his cranium still trapped between the thick thighs of the Dark Man. The frustration on Savior’s part is growing as well as he tries to nip out of the head scissors again only to no avail. That’s when Desolation pushes himself up onto his fists and turns his body slightly into the direction of Savior, bending his head forward in an awful, agonizing angle, where his chin is almost touching his sternum. Christian reaches up and places his hands to Desolation’s knee, attempting to force it away from his throat, but being unable to do so as the Dark Man only further squeezes at his neck, trying to stop all blood from reaching his opposition’s brain. There’s only one more option for Savior now as he twists his body, turning onto his knees with Desolation dropping onto his side, no longer establishing the slightly elevated head scissors, but still trapping his opposition’s skull between his thighs. Christian starts to crawl across the canvas in almost a circle as Desolation sits up, both men’s bodies forming a straight line at this point with Savior’s head still bent forward and trapped in between his opponent’s legs. That’s when the Rogue Squadron member surprisingly pushes himself up into a headstand and then drops out of it backwards, his spine hitting into Desolation’s chest, almost landing on top of him as both men crash to the canvas. Desolation hits the ring spine first with Savior coming down on top of him then sitting up as he establishes a modified side headlock. Claps surprisingly originate from the fans again at the sight of another creative counter into this same submission predicament.
The Alpha representative will not be stopped or stilted though, forcing himself up and over onto his knees with Christian firmly establishing the more basic side headlock predicament. As both athletes rise to their feet it’s clear that Savior is looking to drag Desolation back down to the canvas into the side headlock take down again before he’s drilled to the lower back with a clubbing blow. The same shot is delivered to his kidney area once more followed by Desolation shoving him off the side headlock directly into the ropes. Christian charges into them and once more jumps into the air, landing feet first on the second cable then springing off in reverse, going for the same counter he did earlier. Just as he gets airborne though, Desolation jumps into the air and dropkicks him directly to his lower back. Christian arches his spine as he comes down seat first to the ring, yelling in anguish while Desolation stands up behind him, charging forward into a brutal, stiff running kick directly to the same area he just dropkicked. As a result of such a forceful blast to the spine, Christian rolls across the canvas and towards the ropes, Desolation taking a step back with a snide grin, enjoying himself at this point.
Mayne: Desolation displaying his agility by snatching Rich out of the air with a vicious dropkick and then following it up with one of the most heinous shots right to the spine again. Is there nothing the Dark Man can’t do, besides put on a smile that isn’t horribly creepy?
Douglas: He is a very well rounded competitor, just like Savior, and both men are showing that right here tonight in what has thus far, surprisingly been a straight up match. Although these two teams are brutalizing one another, they haven’t cheated nearly as much as I thought they would.
Hurse is clapping and going nuts on the apron at the sight of what his partner just did as Desolation slowly approaches Savior, taking him by the hair and rolling him to his knees. He steps in with a knee to the side of Savior’s cranium then begins to force him up to his feet. Right as Christian reaches a standing base though he reaches out and digs his fingers directly into Desolation’s eyes, raking them violently. As a result the Dark Man steps back, swiping at his face, unaware that Savior is stepping in and grabbing hold of his neck, setting up for the diamond cutter. Before he can hit it, Desolation pulls his head free and wraps up both of his arms, standing up with Savior hanging over his back, setting for what looks like the vertibreaker. Savior slips free somehow and lands on his feet right behind Desolation, standing up then wrapping his arms around his neck, dropping into a reverse neckbreaker instead. The Dark Man’s skull collides violently with the canvas while Christian takes him around the chin, rolling him to his knees then placing him in a front chancery as he backs towards his corner. An eager Riddick has his hand extended as Savior backs into him, reaching out for the tag. As soon as he does Desolation surprisingly stands up, throwing Savior over his shoulder as he tried to hold onto the front chancery, causing him to crash back first directly into the canvas. He sits up and reaches for the back of his neck while Desolation rushes forward, jumping into the air and planting his forearm directly into Riddick’s face. Adam is knocked off the apron to the outside mats, stepping forward and slapping his palms on the apron in frustration.
Desolation turns back towards Savior who is just now standing up when he steps in and blasts him over the back with a clubbing blow. Christian drops down to a single knee again while Desolation grabs him around the head, dragging it under his seat then wrapping his arms around his waist. He lifts Christian up into the air, holding him upside down, and before his opponent can fight it, the Dark Man jumps into the air, coming down seat first into the canvas, connecting with a big piledriver. Christian skull collides hard with the ring as he bounces up into the air then comes down to the canvas beside the Dark Man who quickly takes him by the hair. Desolation leads his opponent up to his knees and drags him across them towards his corner, where he reaches out, slapping Hurse’s extended palm. The World Champion quickly enters the ring and kicks Savior straight to the face while the Dark Man calls for a brief time out from his partner. Graciously stepping back, Hurse extends his arms out to his sides, not wanting to get in the way as Desolation lifts a very dazed Christian into the air, holding him upside down while interlocking his legs around the top of the nearest turnbuckle. Desolation now bends forward and calls for Hurse, who quickly steps over top of his opponent’s shoulders, the Dark Man standing up with his partner seated on top of him. He now begins to climb the turnbuckle as he puts his foot right into Christian’s crotch, the Dark Man’s weight and Hurse’s weight all coming down into the genitals of Savior as he’s trapped in the tree of woe. Both Champions slap their palms over their sternums and begin with a spirited rendition of “Oh Canada!”
Dan: Don’t these guys have any tag team move that doesn’t target the testicles?
Mayne: I’m sure they do, but they wouldn’t be quite as inspired.
Ingelson steps in, starting a five count on Desolation and Hurse before the World Champion flips over backwards off his partner’s shoulders. He lands directly on his feet with surprisingly grace before charging forward and jumping into the air, connecting with a hesitation dropkick directly into the face of Savior while he was trapped in the tree of woe. Desolation drops off the turnbuckle as well while turning and rushing across the ring, backing into the opposite turnbuckle. Hurse gets to his feet in front of a still trapped Savior when Desolation comes barreling in, the World Champion catching him around the waist and purposely dropping back into a belly to belly suplex, throwing his own partner right into the still trapped Christian. As soon as Desolation’s spine collides with Savior the fans find themselves screaming in shock, the Dark Man arching his back as he rolls under the ropes to the outside of the ring. Hurse now steps in and grabs hold of Savior’s hair, pulling up on it and causing him to be elevated with his leg freeing itself from the turnbuckle. A smirking World Champion rushes forward, dragging Christian off the turnbuckle then pulling him down into a huge reverse neckbreaker across the canvas. The Rogue Squadron member slams against the ring with force and begins to convulse while Hurse turns, crawling into the cover.
1
2
Christian gets his shoulder up off the canvas at the last possible second. An infuriated Hurse rises to a single knee, slapping his hands together and demanding that Ingelson count faster next time.
Billy: I can’t believe Savior just got his shoulder up after that barrage of sensational tag team moves! Can I use one of your lines and imply that Christian has a freakishly huge heart?
Douglas: Although I wouldn’t word it that way, since you’ve already stole my raise you might as well as go ahead and steal my dialogue too.
Mayne: Wow, somebody’s bleeding from your anus today.
A very tired, battered Savior is surprisingly rolling to his elbows and knees, attempting to force himself to his feet while Hurse gets up at his side. He quickly steps over Christian’s back though, wrapping his arms around his neck as he applies a mounted sleeper submission. Pain shoots through the exhausted frame of Savior who is trying to get up to his feet and out of this submission hold. Hurse grits his teeth with his eyes shooting from their sockets while he really clamps onto the hold, choking the very life out of Savior as he forces himself to his feet. Christian is working his way slowly to a standing base with Hurse still clamping onto the sleeper with all his upper body strength, yet it still isn’t enough to get the job done, nothing will stop his opponent from fighting his way to his feet. Finally he forces himself to a standing base with Hurse still holding onto the sleeper, just seconds away from breaking the hold when the Champion breaks the submission. He grabs Savior’s shoulder, spinning him around and delivering a vicious knife edge chop right across his sternum. Christian is taken down to the canvas with force from the extremely stiff chop while Hurse steps to his side, jumping into the air then coming down knee first right into his face. Savior convulses on the canvas as a result, turning away from Hurse while covering his face with both hands.
The World Champion stands up and does a Hulk Hogan style cup of his ear, trying to hear the fans who boo outrageously at him. Hurse appears taken aback with a smirk settling on his face as he steps towards Savior, who is getting to his elbows and knees slowly. A now confident Champion stomps Christian to the back of his skull and now takes him by the hair, forcing him up to his feet slowly and then jumping into the air, dropkicking Savior directly to his face. As a result Christian staggers backwards into the ropes, falling against them for support as his arm tumbles over the top cable. Hurse rolls over backwards right onto his feet, briefly extending his arms out to his sides and singing his praises before he charges right at Christian. Somehow Savior has the wherewithal to step out of the way though, Hurse jumping at him and changing things up quickly, landing feet first on the second cable. He springs off and turns in mid-air only to be caught with a spear from Savior right to his ribs. The fans cover their mouths in shock as Hurse is almost ripped in half from the spear, flipping over backwards and slamming into the ring spine first.
Mayne: Oh, the Blaze of Glory from Savior, which is exactly what he needed to hit right now in order to get him into this match! Poor Hurse, good Savior, confused Billy.
Douglas: As always. But your right, that was quite the counter from Savior, taking Hurse out and getting himself back in this match after being controlled for several minutes in this intense tag team bout.
Billy: He needs to make the tag now, I guess.
Christian is in terrible pain, clutching at the back of his neck while turning to glare in the direction of Riddick, who is anxiously anticipating the tag. He slaps his palms together and stretches his hand out as far as it will go, demanding that Savior slap his palm. Although in an incredible amount of pain, Christian turns onto his elbows and knees, crawling desperately towards his partner while Hurse is incapacitated, incapable of stopping him from moving across the ring. Savior now lunges forward, slapping the palm of Riddick right as Hurse started to get up. To the shock of everyone Adam displays his agility by grabbing the top rope, jumping over it then turning as he lands feet first on the second cable, springing off then turning in mid-air as he connects with a crossbody right on top of the Champion. The fans put their hands together while Riddick rolls across the ring away from Hurse, who is convulsing as he grips at his mid-section in pain. Desolation jumps over the ropes instinctively then charges right at Riddick who turns and grabs hold of his leg, hoisting him into the air then dropping back into a devastating flapjack. The features of the Dark Man collide violently with the canvas before he rolls over onto his back, surprisingly finding the strength to force himself to his feet though. Just as he gets up and staggers into the turnbuckle, falling spine first against it Riddick comes charging in, jumping into the air and connecting with a high knee directly into his sternum. Desolation somehow remains standing though as he turns towards Hurse who is holding his ribs as he rushes towards Riddick, jumping into the air and landing on his shoulders for a hurricarana. Adam turns, rushing across the ring and throwing Hurse into a powerbomb directly against Desolation in the corner, both men’s bodies hitting against each other with tremendous force and causing the fans to start screaming their heads off. Both Desolation and Hurse slip down the turnbuckle, finding themselves seated on the canvas, with the World Champion leaning back first against the No Holds Barred title holder. Riddick turns and rushes across the ring, jumping into the air and connecting with a front dropkick to Hurse’s face, knocking his head backwards into the features of Desolation. Their noggins collide with Riddick rolls out of the way then glares at Savior, who is standing on the apron and surprisingly walking across it in an exhausted state.
The tired, aching Christian grabs the top rope and now jumps into the air, landing feet first on top of it then flying off, soaring the entire length of the ring before connecting with a Van Daminator style dropkick into both of his opponents seated in the corner. The bodies of the Alpha Generation members start to convulse while a loud ovation goes up from the fans, who are shocked by what they just witnessed. Ingelson steps in and demands that Savior vacate the ring, which he does by rolling under the ropes, Riddick stepping forward and grabbing hold of Hurse’s legs. He drags him out of the corner, the Champion no more than dead weight and now begins to spin in circle after circle, hoisting his opponent off the ring into a giant swing. Hurse seems to be becoming sick as they make rotation after rotation, an exhausted Savior watching on as he leans on the ropes and smiles in support. Desolation has dropped to the outside of the ring, spilling across his back on the mats in a battered heap while Riddick continues to turn in circle after circle, making both himself and Hurse increasingly sick to their stomachs.
Douglas: What a series of moves from both Riddick and Savior, and now Hurse finds himself in the giant swing. Just watching this is making me ill.
Mayne: This is just like that time I got on the Scrambler at the fair after eating three chili cheese dogs. I haven’t been allowed to go back to the fair since.
Finally after what had to have been the twentieth spin Riddick releases Hurse, sending him flying across the ring. He crashes into the canvas with a hard thud then rolls over backwards onto his knees, blinking his eyes sporadically. Riddick steps towards him and drills Hurse over the back with a grazing shot then delivers a forearm strike to the side of the Champion’s skull, causing him to almost collapse to the canvas. Adam reaches out and takes Hurse around the neck, forcing him up to his feet and now reaching out, hooking up to his leg before he goes into a spinning fisherman suplex, planting the World Champion hard against the canvas. Hurse begins to convulse as a result, reaching for his back in the process while Riddick calls out for Savior, extending his hand for Christian who steps across the apron, slapping his palm. Adam now reaches down over top of Hurse, grabbing his legs and lifting up on them, rolling the Champion over backwards. Riddick places the legs on opposite sides of his waist and then reaches down, wrapping his arms around the mid-section of his opposition, hoisting him up off the canvas into a wheelbarrow style move. Right at that exact moment Christian springs onto the top rope, flying off into a double stomp directly into the back of Hurse as he’s pushed down out of the wheelbarrow face first into the canvas. The fans react with shock at the sight of the tag team move as Savior ducks into a roll across the canvas after connecting with the maneuver. Adam exits the ring and leaves a struggling Hurse to Christian, who quickly steps in, taking hold of the hair of his opponent and forcing him up to his feet. Hurse leans back first against the cables as Christian chops him violently directly across the sternum.
The legs of the Champion shoot up into the air while he leans spine first against the cables, Savior taking him by the wrist and whipping him off across the ring into the opposite cables. Hurse turns, hitting against them then coming back in as Savior steps forward, bending down for a back drop. Instead the World Champion places his hands to Savior’s shoulder as he stands up, floating over top of him and landing on his feet directly behind his back. As soon as he does Christian flips over backwards into the pele kick directly to the side of his face. Hurse is seemingly knocked unconscious immediately upon impact, staggering around as a result as Savior turns towards him and jumps into the air. He places his feet to Hurse’s gut then drops back, monkey flipping him through the air and causing him to crash back first against the canvas with his legs hitting the ropes. Thankfully for him, his landing placed him right beside his corner, where Desolation reaches over the ropes, slapping his shin. Desolation enters the ring quickly with Savior standing up in front of him, rushing forward for a lariat. Christian ducks it as Desolation turns around to face him, Savior dropping onto his back and rolling in reverse, placing his shins on top of the Dark Man’s shoulders. It’s obvious that he’s going for a head scissors take down only for Desolation to push his shins off his shoulders, causing Christian to roll forward onto his feet then jump into the air, landing on the second rope then springing off into a huge back elbow directly to Desolation’s sternum. The Dark Man crashes to the canvas with Savior landing beside him then rolling over in reverse onto his feet, turning and diving across the ring into a tag to Riddick’s out stretched hand.
Douglas: This match is so damned fast paced I can barely even keep track of it.
Mayne: You are watching tag team wrestling at its pinnacle, at perfection. These guys are showing why they deserve to be in the finals, battling it out for the straps. Gold straps, pretty straps, the kind of straps you want to eat supper on.
Dan: Why must you ruin a somewhat logical statement with a completely ridiculous one?
The action continues to get chaotic as Riddick slips through the ropes into the ring, rushing at Desolation who suddenly rolls towards him, causing Adam to have to jump over his body. He continues across the ring right into one of the opposite turnbuckle, stepping up it quickly with his back aimed towards Desolation, who suddenly stands, charging in and pushing Riddick’s legs out from under him. This causes Riddick to land posterior first on the top rope, Desolation turning his back towards him and reaching up, hooking both of his arms. He places him in a crucifix position and then rushes forward, dropping to his knees and throwing Adam through the air with a razor’s edge style powerbomb. Riddick crashes into the canvas violently then flips over onto his chest and stomach while Desolation gets to his feet. He barely even has time to turn towards the corner when Savior comes flying off it, soaring over top of his brother then connecting with a missile dropkick right to Desolation’s sternum. The Dark Man is taken down to the canvas while Savior lands beside him, rolling across the ring to his elbows and knees. As soon as Savior gets up Hurse comes rushing in at him, Christian turning then bending forward, causing the Champion to change things up by jumping over his back. He wraps his arms around Savior’s waist, pulling him over backwards into a sunset flip. The official doesn’t drop to make the count as Hurse stands up with Savior’s legs over top of his shoulders, dragging him up off the canvas then stepping in front of his shoulders, dropping down into the Sanitizer (Styles Clash). Christian’s face collides with the ring violently while Hurse rolls sideways, pulling Savior over with him into a seated pin. Ingelson steps in and informs him that he is not the legal man though, infuriating Hurse greatly as he rolls over backwards out of the pinning predicament.
As soon as he stands up his eyes cut towards Riddick, who somehow has found the strength to force himself to his feet, utilizing the ropes as support. An intense expression comes to Hurse’s face as he charges right at Riddick, who turns and bends forward, catching him against his shoulders. Adam stands up as he holds Hurse across his shoulders in position for his version of the F5 while Desolation struggles to reach his feet in front of him, Savior doing the same as he clutches onto the cables. Riddick tries to push Hurse around into the F5 but he slips off his shoulders, landing on his feet right behind Adam then shoving him forward right at Desolation. The Dark Man catches Riddick against his shoulder, standing up and allowing him to hang upside down as he puts him in position for the Brand X (Kryptonite Kruch). Hurse turns towards the dazed Savior, rushing at him only to be met with a blistering superkick from Christian directly under his jaw. At the same time Desolation jumps into the air, hitting the Brand X. The fans react with cheers and screams as both moves are connected with in synchronism, Hurse and Riddick laid out. Desolation goes into the pin on Adam, while Savior falls into the cover on Hurse, official Ingelson conflicted over what to do here. He drops down and slaps the canvas with both palms, no longer caring who the legal men are.
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3
Somehow both Riddick and Hurse get their shoulders up at the same time, barely avoiding defeat.
Douglas: A double near fall in what has just been a sensational, sensational tag team title bout thus far, Billy.
Mayne: I need a paper bag to breathe into so I don’t go into a panic attack.
Desolation rises slowly to his feet in a very tired, exhausted state before turning towards Savior, who is also forcing himself to his feet. The Dark Man suddenly steps in and delivers a vicious buzzsaw kick right to the ribs of Christian, doubling him over before the former World Champion goes for another lethal kick this time aimed at his face. Savior drops into a forward roll under it though, getting right to his feet then turning towards the spinning Desolation, rushing in for the Blaze of Glory (Spear) once again. That’s when the Dark Man jumps into the air, catching him to the face with a blistering front dropkick that echoes throughout the arena. Savior is knocked onto his back as a result, wrapping his hands around his features while an exhausted Desolation turns to his elbows and knees, trying to force himself to his feet. Just as he does he spots Riddick utilizing the cables to stand up, pulling himself to an upright base with his back pressed against them. The intense Desolation comes charging in only for Savior to duck down, catching him against his shoulders then back dropping him over the cables, sending him plummeting spine first directly into the thin protective mats. Desolation’s frame hits them with an ever so violent thud as Riddick backs away with sweat dripping from his frame, all the while pointing directly at he downed Dark Man. He is unaware of Hurse who stumbles up behind him, catching Riddick around the neck then falling in reverse, flipping Adam over sideways and causing him to crash face first into the canvas with his entire body standing on top of his features with the shellshock. Adam bounces into the air then twists, coming down onto his back while an exhausted Hurse remains on his side, trying to build up the energy to go for the pin.
Mayne: Desolation with a front dropkick, followed by Riddick back dropping him out of the ring, followed by Adam being given the shellshock, how much more brutality are both of these teams going to inflict on each other here tonight!?!
Douglas: There’s no telling how much more its going to take, as the Rogue Squadron and the Alpha Generation are surprisingly putting on a hell of a match for the tag team titles here tonight.
The fans no longer seem to care about who is wrestling who here as they just start screaming over all this incredible in ring action. All the while a flustered, battered, and frustrated Savior crawls into the cables, falling into the bottom one with an extremely glazed over look on his face. In the same instance Hurse is getting up and approaching the downed Riddick, reaching out and grabbing his legs. He lifts them into the air, placing them over his shoulders as it’s obvious that he’s going for that Sanitizer once again. Just as all seems well, just as it appears that victory is secured his eyes transfer to the face of Robin Brooks making her way down the ramp then moving around the ring eagerly. She almost appears giddy and completely unaware that the Champion is following her with his angry gaze. Finally she reaches the time keeper’s table and snatches up her X-Class title belt, throwing it over her shoulder and admiring the fact that it’s once again in her embrace. She immediately begins to move around the ring as she now turns towards Hurse, who has dropped Riddick’s legs, moving towards her in a furious manner.
Hurse: What the fuck are you doing out here? Didn’t you do enough damage the last two times you came to the ring during one of my matches!?! Go backstage now before you ruin another of my matches!
Robin glances up at Hurse then motions towards the title belt in her clutches only for the World Champion to continue threatening her verbally.
Hurse: You can’t listen to me backstage, you can’t listen to me out here, and you won’t listen to me at Extinction, what use are you, you manipulative little bitch!?!
Immediately Brooks’ eyes fill with dejection, her attention slowly turning away from the ring in a highly saddened state. Her attention shifts to the X-Class title belt in her clutches while her expression drastically begins to change to one of rage and anger. Meanwhile Hurse has given up on reasoning with her, turning back towards the center of the ring and walking directly into a diamond cutter from Savior. The fans react with shock as Hurse’s head is dragged downward face first into the canvas, the World Champion bouncing off the ring violently then rolling onto his back. There is nothing left at this point as Savior remains on his back as well, unable to move, in just as exhausted of a condition as Hurse. Referee Ingelson turns and approaches a slowly rising Desolation on the outside of the ring, sticking his head through the cables and demanding the Dark Man re-enter, which is what he’s desperately trying to do. All the while Riddick is utilizing the cables to reach his knees, looking to the outside of the ring at the trembling Brooks holding the X-Class title tightly. Unaware of what he’s doing, his better half takes over, reaching through the ropes and placing his hand on Robin’s shoulder when she turns and strikes Adam directly to the face with the X-Class title belt. The fans react with shock as Adam spills back through the ropes and tumbles across his spine in the ring, Robin backs away with her hand over her mouth, having no idea it was Riddick she hit with the belt, and at the same time asking herself who she was intending to strike with the title in the first place. All the while Savior turns, crawling desperately into the cover, falling on top of Hurse just barely with his arm over his chest.
Douglas: Robin just knocked out Adam Riddick with the title belt, but he didn’t seem to be the person she wanted to take out, and now Savior is going for the pin!
Mayne: Leave it to Robin to ruin everything!
Ingelson turns and spots the cover, dropping down and making the count.
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3!
The crowd reacts with shock as Desolation dives into the fray at the last second, planting both his elbows across the back of Savior’s head, breaking up the pinfall. An exhausted Christian drops off of Hurse, too tired to fight back, far too drained of energy. All the while the Dark Man rises to a knee and glares at the unconscious Riddick, looking around then quickly crawling into a cover on him, hooking both of his legs. All the while Brooks backs up the ramp, almost in tears over what she’s done, so confused by what just happened.
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3!
Everyone in the building expresses their outrage over what just transpired, with a miraculous twist of fait, thanks to Robin Brooks’ accidental shot to Riddick’s skull, the Alpha Generation are now the IWC tag team champions!
Douglas: Oh no, oh no! Desolation and Hurse have just captured the IWC Tag Team Titles! But it’s all thanks to that shot from Brooks to Riddick’s cranium, a man she’s been getting along with for the past few weeks.
Mayne: Yes, party like it’s, well, I can’t say 1999 anymore as it’s outdated. Oh well, you get what I mean, it’s celebration time, we need Isaac from the Loveboat here to mix out new Champions some drinks!
Douglas: For once Robin didn’t screw Hurse, she saved him even though that title belt shot was meant for his head obviously.
All four individuals are rendered incapable of celebrating after the brutality they’ve inflicted on one another’s frames. Savior and Riddick are pulling themselves up with the use of the cables, although their legs are heavy, barely able to support their frames. At the same time Desolation and Hurse are attempting to get up as well.
Douglas: What a tag team confrontation between these two parings, but the greater of two evils I guess have emerged with even more gold around their waists.
Mayne: I knew you’d come around sooner or later Dan, and realize ass kissing is the only way to climb the corporate ladder.
Dan: Are my lips brown?
Billy: Kinda.
Douglas: Oh, well I guess I should wash them more often then.
Everyone in this match are still exhausted, battered, beaten, bruised, in horrid physical conditions. Referee Ingelson is outside of the ring, picking up the tag team title belts to hand them to their new owners.
RIIIIINNNNGGG, RRRIIIINNNNNGG
Billy almost jumps out of his seat, his hand cupping his heart as he hears the phone sounding throughout the arena. A concerned Dan once again reaches out for the speaker button on the phone.
Billy: Oh man, why do these two idiots have to be calling again? Haven’t they already interrupted enough great moments throughout tonight’s telecast, now they’re detracting attention from the new Tag Team Champions. Oh well though, at least they won’t be able to get in the building and show their hideously deformed faces on camera.
Douglas: That might be the case considering the sheer amount of security personal Sallie and Krissie have brought in tonight. Let’s see where Cruze and Creed are now however.
The speaker button is hit and immediately Orlando’s heavy breathing can be heard in the background. The unflattering photo of Orlando’s features take up the screen once more.
Orlando: (voice over) Hey boys, just thought I’d call in and let you all know that we’re here.
Briefly a look of terror comes to Billy’s face as he hears this, the competitors in the ring too tired to care about what is being said over the loud speakers though. The thought of Orlando and Nathan just arriving causes a grin to come to the exhausted face of Savior.
Billy: Hahahaha, well aren’t you in for a big surprise then Cruze? Because I can guarantee that your not going to be able to get into this building.
Douglas: Indeed Orlando, security has got this place puckered up tighter than a virgin in a prison shower.
The photo of Orlando once again is featured over the screen as a bit of maniacal chuckling can be heard in the background.
Cruze: Oh I don’t think Nathan and I are going to have any problem getting into the building tonight. No problem whatsoever, hahahaha.
Mayne: Prepare to have your confidence shatter….
Douglas: Billy, Billy, shut up for a moment, I’m hearing something in my headset right now from backstage.
Mayne glares awkwardly at Douglas who continues to push the small transmitter into his ear as if he’s having trouble hearing this correctly, or just can’t believe it. His jaw suddenly drops as his eyes cut to Mayne.
Douglas: Billy, I’m hearing that they were able to trace where these calls have been coming from. There coming from inside the arena, they have been all night long!
Mayne: WHAT!?! You mean to tell me Nathan Creed and Orlando Cruze have been here all along!?! Thank God I’m not a sexy babysitter.
With all the individuals in this match incapacitated by their pain, and the new tag team titles being carried towards the ring, You Know My Name by Chris Cornell rips through the arena, sending the crowd into a wave of pandemonium. All eyes cut to the entry way where through the curtains emerge Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed, both men carrying steel chairs and glaring in the direction of the ring. Primal rage emanates from both men’s frames while their eyes cross those of the individuals who thought they had injured and demoralized them enough to walk away last week. Hurse’s lips are trembling at the sight of the Future and the Icon staring at him so maliciously while the Rogue Squadron may be exhausted but try to stand in defensive poses. Orlando and Nathan nod towards the Rogue Squadron as they rush straight towards the ring, not hesitating even a second.
Billy: Hey now, no not I’m singing the lyrics to a inexplicably popular rap pop song from a few years ago, I’m expressing outrage over the arrival of Creed and Cruze. They’re here, they’re actually here!
Douglas: They’ve been here all night Billy, waiting for this one moment to strike.
The fans are going absolutely nuts as Orlando and Nathan slide into the ring, the exhausted Rogue Squadron members rushing forward to meet them. Christian throws a punch only for Creed to duck it then spin around, lifting the chair in his possession over his head and then swinging it violently into Savior’s skull. The steel collides with bone and bends the chair, having who knows what effect on Christian’s cranium as he stumbles backwards and spills through the ropes to the outside mats. As soon as Orlando started to stand up, Riddick jabs him to the face, then does it again, although his punches are slightly diminished in strength. They are not enough to stop Orlando from turning his chair and driving it directly into Riddick’s ribs, which were already weakened from that attack last week by Jon Rich. Adam is doubled over as Orlando steps back then throws the chair with all his strength directly into the top of Riddick’s skull. A loud smack echoes throughout the building as a result of the steel colliding with bone. Adam spills onto his back and rolls under the ropes to the outside of the ring as well on instinct alone.
Douglas: Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed getting themselves some of the Rogue Squadron, avenging what transpired last week in what was another infamous screwjob.
Mayne: This isn’t fair, it isn’t fair! Riddick and Savior are too exhausted to put up a fight dammit!
Dan: Which is exactly what the Future and the Icon were counting on. They didn’t come for a fight, they came to give a beating!
Orlando and Creed turn towards their opponents at Extinction, glaring through the cables at them when Desolation throws a clubbing blow over the Icon’s back. Hurse grabs Nathan by the shoulder and spins him around, beginning to deck him in the face.
Mayne: Now the Alpha Generation are fighting with Creed and Cruze! Can this encounter get anymore violent!?!
Douglas: All of the individuals out here brawling have a clear disdain for one another, leading to this wild brawl.
The World Champion steps in for another punch but Creed blocks it with a kick to his gut. He now steps to Hurse’s side and swings the chair down as hard as he can right over the lower back of his rival. Hurse arches his spine and staggers forward before turning towards Creed who throws him the chair then dropkicks it directly into his face. Metal bounces off the facial features of the World Champion, sending him crashing through the ropes to the outside of the ring. All the while Savior and Riddick are utilizing the small steel cage at ringside to drag themselves to their feet. Desolation slugs Orlando to the face again, backing him up towards the steel chair that he threw into Riddick’s skull. As he steps over it, Cruze reaches down and grabs the chair off the canvas, lifting it into the air and causing Desolation’s fist to slam against it. He immediately grabs his hand in pain but goes for a round house kick to the side of Cruze’s skull, which Orlando promptly ducks under to avoid. Desolation’s kick sends him into a full swing, turning to face Orlando who slams the chair with ungodly violence right over the Dark Man’s skull. His head should be cracked yet Desolation is staggering around, not even knocked to the canvas by the chair shot. Cruze steps to his side though, taking him by the hair and rushing him at the corner, throwing him over top of it and causing the Dark Man’s face to impact the exposed turnbuckle post. His head cracks off the steel and causes him to turn, crashing back first onto the apron then spilling to the outside mats.
Douglas: Now Desolation and Hurse, who played an equal part in last week’s travesty are getting their comeuppance from a vengeful Creed and Cruze as well.
Mayne: Damn steel chairs, why are they even brought to these shows? They’re too dangerous!
The crowd is screaming as Creed has slipped through the ropes, quickly stomping a seated Hurse right to his face, knocking him onto his back as a result. The World Champion turns onto his elbows and knees and quickly begins to crawl up the ramp, desperately trying to get away. Creed could care less about pursuing him though as he steps towards Riddick who has pulled himself to his feet with the use of the cage wall. Nathan grabs him by the back of the head, dragging him away from the cell and then throwing him face first right into the mesh. The collision causes Adam to tumble backwards onto his spine as Nathan steps over his legs, reaching down and grabbing hold of them. He lifts the legs under his armpits then drops back, catapulting Riddick front first into the mesh wall yet again. Adam bounces off and turns, tumbling onto his side. Desolation has just reached his feet when Orlando steps in with the chair still clutched in his hand, lifting it above his head and slamming it down over the Dark Man’s skull. Desolation is knocked backwards as a result towards the now opened cage, Orlando driving the chair over the top of his head again. Somehow Desolation is still standing as he stumbles in reverse, just outside the cage now before a furious Cruze gets a running start then delivers one of the most sickening chair shots to former mentor’s cranium that’s ever been heard. Finally Desolation tumbles backwards into the human sized cell, Orlando approaching the door. From the corner of his eye he spots Savior standing up and staggering towards him, prompting Orlando to swing the door backwards right into Christian’s body with vile force. The collision sends Christian staggering backwards into the barricade, leaning on it for support with dazed, glazed over eyes. Orlando now closes the door for the cell and clamps the padlock, officially locking Desolation inside.
Douglas: Desolation is locked in the cage! He promised he wouldn’t abide by AWOL’s orders to get inside of it as he waited to see who’d get five minutes with him in the ring between Axl Evermore and Jon Rich, but he’s just been forced inside by Orlando.
Mayne: This night just keeps getting worse by the second.
Orlando now approaches Savior, drilling him to the face with closed fists and then taking him by the hair, leading him up the ramp towards the backstage area. Two thick security personal emerge from the back, moving towards the ring and right past Cruze as he pulls Savior towards the back. They don’t even seem to care about the violence between them, instead moving straight towards the cage that Desolation is trapped inside. They now stand on opposite sides of it, with their thick arms crossed over their sternums, ensuring that no one can come out and free the Dark Man, or get to him before the conclusion of the impending singles bout.
Douglas: What chaos here ladies and gentlemen, and it doesn’t look like it’s going to get anymore calmer, because it appears that we’re about to see Evermore vs. Rich next.
Mayne: I think my brain is about to explode. And if it does, I hope it takes you and Rich with it.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
JON RICH VS. AXL EVERMORE
The fans are still cheering as AWOL’s hand picked security force has driven Desolation into the small cage at ringside, with the help of Cruze and Creed of course, which he doesn’t appear to have any real interest in remaining inside of at all. As the cage door is locked shut on him, Desolation glares through the mesh, barely having any room whatsoever to move inside of the slender and short steel contraction, one hand pressed to the bump inflicted on his noggin. He slides his fingers through the mesh and shakes the wall while the black shirted security personal stand at opposite sides of the cage, attempting to prevent anyone from getting at the Dark Man before they win or lose their respective match. 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. For once Sallie Roma, his lovely wife is not present at his side, opting to leave her in the back for the sake of her own protection, given Desolation’s fetish to target the loved ones of his perspective rivals. Axl rises to his feet and displays little showmanship as he moves towards the ring, his eyes settled on Desolation inside of the small cage, realizing that he’ll get him one on one tonight for five minutes should he defeat Jon Rich. The thought of getting his hands on the Dark Man almost causes him to salivate and foam at the mouth as he moves to the ring then jumps onto the apron. He glares over his shoulder right at the cage and the surprisingly smirking Desolation, who is still holding his palm to his forehead after the chaos that ensued between himself and the team of Orlando and Creed that led him to be stuck in his current predicament.
Douglas: You can just feel the tension that radiates from both these men every time they set sights on one another. It’s fairly obvious just how much Evermore wants to get his hands on Desolation, even thought they’ve never officially come to blows with one another to my understanding. That will all change here tonight though, because if Evermore defeats Rich he will receive five minutes alone with the Dark Man.
Mayne: This isn’t fair, it’s like dangling a bloody, yet scrumptious piece of meat above two hungry lions. Desolation is already weakened from that match he was just involved in, plus he was attacked by Nathan and Orlando, who forced him into the cage! Non of this fair, non of it!
Dan: Well now you know how Orlando felt being forced to compete in handcuffs last week.
Mayne: Oh, whine and bitch all you want about it, I’ve been handcuffed plenty of times, mostly to bedposts, and I’m never limited to what I have to, as long as I have a TV remote, and a bottle to make pee pee in.
Douglas: You do that even when your not handcuffed!
Desolation continues to glare through the cage into the stone like face of Evermore, who is now standing in the ring and not removing his cold eyes from the Dark Man. The screen now begins flashing with the beat of “Unbreakable” by Bon Jovi, causing a flood of cheers to emanate from the crowd. The pinnacle of their reaction coincides with the arrival of Rich, who strolls through the curtains and marches directly onto the stage, his grizzled face examining his surroundings with his one good eye. The crowd is more pumped and energized than ever before at the sight of Rich who much like Evermore doesn’t provide much showmanship. Instead his eye is focused on Desolation, staring through the cage into the face of the man he’s come to despise more than any other in the history of his young career perhaps. As he passes the cage he finds himself aching to just dive at Desolation, to fight his way through the thick, darkly clad guards and wrap his hands around the throat of his pray. He opts to do so legally however, and not jeopardize his future shot at the Dark Man, therefore he climbs up onto the apron and slips through the ropes. He backs up in the ring while still staring at the smirking Desolation inside of the cage, barely even noticing that Magnus has once again emerged on the stage, watching his pupil very closely.
Mayne: And here is life’s punching bag, Jon Rich, looking particularly homicidal at the sight of Desolation, and continuing to increase my rage over this entire scenario. Ask yourself, what did Desolation really do to deserve any of this? If anything he should get a reward for making Jon not quite so pathetic as he use to be.
Douglas: Desolation deserves nothing more than a beating, Billy, a beating unlike any other for his atrocious behavior over the years. Here is a man who went from being one of the most beloved figures in all of the IWC, to the most repulsive competitor the fans and Jon Rich have ever forced themselves to look upon. I can’t wait till Rich gets his hands on Desolation in the Last Man Standing match at Extinction, or maybe even tonight.
Billy: Jon is so ungrateful. He’s just like one of my ex-wives, asking so much of me. “Billy, can you take me shopping? Billy can you please satisfy my sexual urges? Billy, will you stop eating my hair while you’re sleeping?” So ungrateful.
The fans are anxious to see this action, yet the only thing Evermore and Rich are anxious to do is inflict violence on the man they both have a great deal of animosity for. As the bell rings Rich doesn’t even bother to turn his head and set his sights on his opponent, instead glaring through his one functional eye directly at Desolation in the cage. This allows Evermore a brief glimmer of hope, stepping up behind Jon and dropping down, grabbing him by the back of the pants and rolling him up into a quick school boy.
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Jon kicks out and drops over onto his knees, standing up as Evermore does the same in front of him. Axl steps forward only to be dragged down into a small package from Rich.
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Now Evermore is the one who kicks out with quickness, dropping onto his knees just like Rich as both men race each other to their feet. As soon as they stand, Rich steps in with a spinning heel kick that Evermore ducks, stepping behind Jon and grabbing both of his arms, pulling him down into a back slide.
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Jon frees himself from the pain by rolling over backwards onto his knees then grabbing Evermore’s arm, he swings around under it and steps to his opponent’s side. He has the arm ringer locked in for a second before pinning the arm between his legs, turning in a circle back towards his opponent and jumping over his back, wrapping his arm around Evermore’s far thigh. Axl is pulled over sideways into a mahistrial cradle.
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Evermore shoots his shoulders from the canvas, dropping over onto his knees as he and Rich get to their feet and have a face off to much approval from the fans.
Douglas: Axl and Rich going for the quick pinfall, wanting to ensure that they’re relatively fresh when they get five minutes alone with Desolation.
Mayne: Have I clearly voiced by outrage over this stipulation yet?
Dan: Yes, redundantly so at this point.
Billy: Good, then I’ll do it again. I’m outraged!
Rich and Axl both glare into each other’s faces intensely before stepping forward and bumping sternums, getting nose to nose. That’s when Axl steps back, throwing a forearm into the side of Rich’s face only to have Jon answer back with a closed fist to his opponent’s jaw. Evermore steps in with a kick to Jon’s gut then begins to slug him repeatedly to the side of the face until Jon comes back with a big European Uppercut to his opponent’s jaw. The stiff strike causes Axl to stagger as Jon steps in with a blistering chop directly across his sternum. Somehow Axl is able to remain standing before Jon grabs him by the shoulder, spinning his back towards him then trying to hook his arms around his neck, setting up for the Get Rich Quick (Cobra Clutch Reverse Neckbreaker across knee). The crowd starts to scream as Axl steps forward then bends over backwards, spinning around and reversing the grip onto Jon’s wrists, pulling him forward as he twists his body and causes Rich to be caught against his shoulders. Axl stands up as he now holds Rich in position for the Superfecta (F5). Just as he is about to hit it Rich begins to squirm on his shoulders, but Evermore is undeterred, pushing him around out of the fireman’s carry into an attempted DDT. However, Jon shoves himself off, landing on his feet right in front of Axl then stepping in for a superkick aimed directly at his face. Evermore catches hold of his leg though and forces it down to his side then promptly delivers a dragon leg screw, flipping Rich over sideways. Jon crashes into the canvas but rolls over sideways directly onto his knees, turning his body towards Evermore who has just reached his feet and is charging in. Rich goes into a headstand, flipping forward out of it into a lariat aimed at Evermore’s throat. Axl ducks it, switching around behind Jon and wrapping his arms around his waist. He lifts for the German suplex only to have Rich reach back, interlocking his leg around Evermore’s, who is starting to become frustrated as a result. Instead of being able to hit the move, Rich performs a standing switch, getting behind Axl then lifting him for the German. Evermore reaches back with his legs and wraps them around Rich’s waist as he’s lifted, dropping into a forward roll, pulling Rich down into a pin while he sits on top of his sternum and holds down the back of his legs.
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Rich kicks out, dropping over sideways and surprisingly keeping his arms wrapped around Axl’s waist. He drags him over onto his knees while standing up behind him with the reverse waist lock still established, forcing Evermore up onto his feet. Jon bends forward, wedging his shoulder against Axl’s lower back then lifting him into the air for a back drop suplex, but the Fully Loaded member flips over in reverse, landing gracefully behind his opponent. Rich spins around and finds himself in a defensive stance, just like Axl, both individuals out of breath after a dazzling series of reversals.
Douglas: Counter after counter between these two who have such frighteningly similar styles.
Mayne: They just went for like three minutes doing nothing but counters. It makes me sea sick, which is why I’m glad I have this barf bag handy.
Dan: Billy, that’s my baseball cap….oh, nevermind, just keep it.
The fans clap at the sight of all this action between both men while Magnus watches on from the stage, nodding in appreciation of his student’s abilities, yet he’s still greatly distressed, no matter how impressive Rich may be in this match. Desolation rolls his eyes, counting down the time until he’s freed from this steel prison. All the while Axl Evermore and Jon Rich circle each other, looking for that all important chink in the armor of their opponent. They both step forward and lunge into a collar elbow tie, immediately jockeying for positioning. Just then Rich breaks the collar elbow and steps into Evermore with a European Uppercut to his jaw. As a result Axl is staggered, only for Rich to step in with another Euro uppercut, but this time Evermore avoids it, turning his back and pressing it against Jon’s. He hooks both of Rich’s arms, trying to pull him down into a back slide only for Jon to kick up off the canvas, flipping over in reverse and landing directly in front of Axl. Evermore bends forward though, burying his shoulder into Rich’s ribs as soon as he lands then snapping over backwards into a northern lights suplex with the bridge.
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Rich kicks out, causing Evermore to come down back first on top of his chest. The official drops and tries to make the count once again only for Rich to wrap his arms around Axl’s waist and bridge not only himself, but his opponent up off the canvas. As soon as both men stand up Rich spins around with Evermore bent forward in front of him in almost a powerbomb position. Instead Jon tries to lift him up for a piledriver only for Axl to twist his body, spinning out of the predicament then turning to face Rich. He steps in with a lariat that Jon ducks, Evermore turning to face him before he receives a kick to the gut and then is placed in a front chancery. Jon reaches out, hooking Axl’s leg then dropping back into a fisherman suplex.
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Axl finds himself kicking out a bridging suplex this time, falling onto his side while a ravenous Rich rises to his feet behind him then drops down, wrapping his arm around Evermore’s throat. Rage is prevalent within Rich as he locks in the sleeper hold on a seated Evermore, who immediately begins to gag, trying to force the arms apart from under his jaw. Magnus watches all of this with a bowed head, greatly worried about his protégé’s behavior.
Billy: It’s about time this thing slowed down, it was starting to give me high blood pressure.
Douglas: Years of living on a strict pizza, tequila diet has given you that Billy, not the tremendous action in this match. But indeed, Rich is slowing this contest down a bit by going to the sleeper hold, hoping he’s exhausted Axl enough perhaps to win with this submission.
The fans are split on who they support here, some slapping the barricades to try and rally behind Axl, while others are demanding that he tap out so that Rich gets the win and in turn gets Desolation for five minutes. Evermore is more inclined to follow the advice of his supporters though, starting to drive himself towards his feet, getting to a single knee while Jon continues to establish the sleeper hold. The crowd is screaming as Evermore’s entire body shakes and finally gets a standing base, reaching up slowly with his hands, taking hold of Rich’s arms then starting to force them away from his neck. Both men are trembling as they use all their strength and will against one another, Jon’s arms going out further and further to his sides, forced to break the sleeper hold now. Axl’s eyes are full of devotion as he stares at the forearms of his opponent slowly moving away from his neck, about to free himself from this sleeper before Jon blasts him into his kidneys with a hard knee. As a result Evermore is sent staggering forward, arching his back and reaching for his spine when Jon moves up behind him, throwing a forearm into his kidney area. Evermore shouts in pain while he is grabbed by the shoulder and spun around, Rich lifting him into the air under one arm then dropping him spine first across his knee with a Canadian back breaker. As a result of this collision Axl roars in pain, dropping over onto his chest and stomach while Rich stands at his side then jumps into the air, catching some surprising height before coming down head first into his opponent’s lower back. Evermore forces himself up onto his elbows, continuing to groan in agony while Jon stands up at his side, dropping a quick elbow of his own into the small of his opposition’s spine. Again Axl calls out in pain, Rich rolling to his knees at his side then scooting in, clamping his arms around Evermore’s waist, applying a bearhug of sorts.
Mayne: Well this is surprising, Jon Rich using a bearhug, I thought that submission was strictly limited to fat asses with zero wrestling ability. Not that I’m acknowledging Rich as having any in ring capabilities himself.
Dan: Yes, we all know that you like to pretend to be blissfully ignorant. Jon has got this bearhug tightly applied on the laid out Evermore, who’s back he’s begun to work over in the hopes of gaining a quick submission victory.
Billy: The only thing Jon’s quick at doing is the stuff he does in bed. Hahahahaha, oh, score one for the Maynester!
Again the fans find themselves perplexed over who to rally behind here as Evermore begins to force himself up to his feet again. This time, right as he reaches his knees, Rich breaks the submission and jumps into the air, coming down posterior first right over Evermore’s lower back, causing him to drop right back down to his chest and stomach. As soon as he falls to the ring, Jon buries his knee into the small of his back then reaches out, interlocking his hands in front of Evermore’s jaw then rearing in reverse. Axl clinches his fist and groans as he finds himself trapped in a modification of the rear chin lock with Rich’s knee deeply dug into the small of his spine and his head almost being ripped from his shoulders as its pulled in reverse. All the barricades are being slapped now, the fans actually coming to a consensus that they want this match to continue as long as possible. Their cheers and cries call out to Evermore and instill him with more determination than ever as he begins to will his tired body upward, Jon forced to take his knee away from his back. He continues to pull on the chin though, almost breaking Evermore’s neck as he tries to stand up, which is exactly what he’s doing at the behest of his loyal fanbase. Desolation sighs from the inside of his enclosure, realizing that this match is going to continue as Evermore reaches his feet. As soon as he does, Jon steps to his side, wrapping his leg around Evermore’s then dropping back into a Russian Leg sweep, driving both men against the canvas. Jon quickly turns and drops on top of Axl, hooking his leg for the pinfall.
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Axl kicks out again to a great deal of applause from the fans as Jon turns towards him and drops with a knee into his kidneys once more. Jon stands and then drops forward into another knee against the lower portion of his spine, Axl gasping as a result before Rich takes him by the hair. As he rolls him to his knees Rich points from the ring straight into the smiling face of Desolation, making it clear that he’s next. That’s when Evermore surprisingly stands up, pushing the hands away from his head then turning as he delivers a knee directly into Rich’s ribs. Jon is doubled over forward as Evermore goes charging into the cables in front of him, bouncing off then coming in before Rich jumps into the air, meeting him to the face with a sickening dropkick. The crowd reacts with shock as the boots meet against Evermore’s jaw, taking him off of his feet and down back first into the canvas. He crashes against the ring while Jon lands on his knees, quickly shooting another glance towards the amused Dark Man then crawling into the cover once again.
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Axl is forced to kick out of yet another pinfall attempt, sitting up in a highly groggy state.
Douglas: Jon deliberately controlling the pace of this contest, constantly shutting down Evermore every time he tries to obtain the upper hand in what started out as a pretty even bout between these two.
Mayne: It’s all been going down hill for Evermore ever since he was hit with that fisherman suplex. Actually, if I wanted to be accurate, it’s all been going down hill for Axl since the day he clawed out of his mother’s womb.
Rich stands up and moves over top of Evermore’s head while shooting another cold stare in the direction of Desolation, only further increasing Magnus’ frustrations. Just as Rich bends over to grab hold of Evermore’s hair, Axl kicks upward with one of his feet, connecting to the top of Jon’s skull. As a result of the hard kick Rich stands and staggers backwards, flailing his arms to keep himself up. That’s when Axl rolls over backwards, sticking his legs out and placing them around Jon’s waist only for Rich to bend down, interlocking his arms about the waist of Evermore. He lifts him up into the air into a wheelbarrow only for Axl to reach out with his arm, wrapping it around the back of Jon’s head then pulling him down into a bulldog that causes the crowd to react with a loud ovation. Rich’s skull collides with the ring before he rolls onto his back, Evermore turning away from him with sweat now beginning to drip from his frame. No matter how tired he may be or how much pain his back is in, he’s able to step over Rich’s legs, reaching down and grabbing hold of one of them. He lifts it into the air under his armpit, trying to set up for the Straight Shooter (High Angle Half Crab), but as soon as he raises the leg Rich rolls over backwards right onto his feet. Rich rushes towards Evermore who jabs him to the face, then punches him to the jaw again before doing some fancy footwork to much approval from the crowd. He moves in for the knock out shot when Rich ducks under it, turning to face Axl and stepping in when Evermore spins around and catches him around the thigh and neck, lifting Jon into a wrist clutch fisherman’s brainbuster. Rich’s skull collides hard with the canvas as a result and the fans cover their mouths over the sight of such a move as Axl turns, diving into the cover, hooking Jon’s leg in a tired state.
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Jon shoots his shoulder from the canvas, causing Evermore to sit up with doubt and dismay clear in his eyes. He slams the side of his fist against the canvas then peers over his shoulder into the laughing face of Desolation, rubbing his forehead against the mesh and just dying to get into that ring as well. Axl rises to his feet in a very sluggish manner as Rich is trying to get up as well, getting to a single knee only to have Evermore blast him over the upper back with a forearm strike. Jon falls to both knees as Evermore takes him by the hair, dragging him up to his feet then turning him around in order to deliver a swift kick to his gut. Rich is bent over as Evermore hooks both of his arms, lifting Jon up into the air for a double underhook sit-out brainbuster only for Jon to wrap his legs around Axl’s neck. He pulls himself up out of the double underhook position then flips over Axl’s head, sliding down his back and wrapping his arms around Evermore’s waist. He rolls him over into a sunset flip.
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Axl rolls over backwards and grabs hold of Jon’s leg, pulling him over onto his front as he applies the Straight Shooter.
Mayne: Hahaha, Rich avoided it before, but there’s no escaping it now.
Douglas: An amazing series of counters between these two, all of which leading right into the Straight Shooter from Evermore, which we know has scored him victories throughout his career, throughout the various companies he’s competed in.
Billy: Yeah, we just can’t name any of those victories.
Jon pushes himself up onto his elbows, his flesh transforming to a bright shade of red as he glares at the cables. They are not too far away but the pain shooting through Evermore’s back is hampering his ability to properly establish this submission hold. As a result Rich’s leg slips from his grasp, allowing Jon to roll onto his back, freeing himself from the Straight Shooter and placing his feet to Evermore’s posterior. He kicks off, sending Axl rushing into the ropes and hitting them chest first before he spills over the cables and onto the apron. Rich rolls over backwards onto his feet then begins to charge forward as Evermore springs onto the top rope then flies off for a forearm strike to Jon’s features. Rich drops into a roll though to avoid it, causing Axl to tuck his head and land into a roll of his own. He ends up right on his feet as Jon rolls into a forward leap at the cables, landing feet first on the second rope then springing off, twisting in mid-air and catching Evermore around the neck, dragging him down into the Up and Over (Springboard Twisting Blockbuster). Evermore is driven hard into the canvas across the back of his skull and neck while Rich rolls to his knees, appearing exhausted before he crawls into the cover on Axl.
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Evermore shoots his ever defiant shoulder from the ring, infuriating Rich as he rises to a knee, chest heaving in exhaustion. He slides his trembling fingers into his hair, becoming increasingly unstable the longer this match goes. In his frustration he realizes it’s time to bust out the Get Rich Quick, grabbing Evermore by the hair then forcing him over onto his knees then promptly raising him to his feet. Jon wraps Evermore’s own arms around his neck then twists him around in order to drop the back of his head across his knee, but Axl begins to jostle, trying to free himself. He back elbows Rich to the face several times, freeing his arms then reaching up with one of them, wrapping it around Jon’s head for his version of the stunner. That’s when Jon shoves Evermore off and sends him charging into a nearby turnbuckle, which he jumps to the top of and then springs off, twisting in mid-air as he comes down with a huge axehandle right into Rich’s face. Loud piercing screams come from the fans at the sight of Evermore’s athleticism, rolling across the ring after hitting his twisting axehandle then crawling into the cover. He hooks Jon’s leg, going for the pinfall and all the while staring at Desolation as the referee’s hand hits the canvas.
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Jon kicks out this time and causes the crowd to flood the ring with their applause.
Douglas: Both men hitting some very agile maneuvers, but they were still not enough to put an end to this contest. You can just tell how badly these two competitors want to get their hands on Desolation.
Mayne: I can’t believe their willing to tear each other apart like this just to have five minutes in the ring with Desolation. Should the Dark Man be, flattered?
Dan: Rather he is or he isn’t, he seems to be greatly enjoying himself as he watches his two most heated rivals put it all on the line, really weakening each other before they’re slated to face off with him.
An increasingly tired Evermore forces himself to his feet, grabbing hold of Rich’s wrist and his ankle then dragging him towards a nearby turnbuckle. In his highly exhausted state Axl turns towards the turnbuckle, jumping into the air then extending his legs, dropping them across the top rope and flipping over backwards into the split legged moonsault, which he has affectionately dubbed the ACTION star press. Unfortunately all he connects with are Rich’s raised knees, his mid-section hitting it hard as he tumbles to the canvas and wraps his hands about his ribs. Rich rolls away from him, rising to his feet slowly then stepping through the ropes, he now begins to make his way up the turnbuckle while Evermore is still lying on the canvas, holding his busted up abdomen. Jon now reaches the top rope in his exhausted, battered state then dives off, soaring through the air for the Sky High Flying Elbow and connecting, with the ring! Axl rolled out of the way in the nick of time, causing Rich to hit canvas and now sit up, grabbing his elbow in ungodly anguish. The fans put their hands together as both men are down on the ring, appearing spent after all the hard hitting moves they’ve used against one another, and all these damaging counters. Instinctively it seems, Jon begins to roll away from Evermore and towards the ropes, spilling under them to the outside mats to create some distance between himself and his opponent. Axl is crawling towards a nearby turnbuckle, falling against it for support as he tries to stand up but finds his back in too much pain to even move.
A very loud mixed reaction commences from the crowd at this point as Jon reaches under the ring and retrieves a solid steel chair. He rises to his feet slowly on the outside of the ring now with the chair tightly gripped in the palms of his hands, about to snap just like he did last week. Desolation perks up a bit at the sight of the chair, amused by the fact that he’s going to use it on Evermore.
Billy: Well, I guess this was mildly enjoyable while it lasted, if I could keep my mind off the ridiculous stipulation that is, because it looks as if Rich has lost his mind again.
Douglas: That he has Billy, and it couldn’t come at a worse time. We saw him do this last week against Riddick and Savior and now he’s going to do the same thing to Evermore. Think before you do this Jon, if your disqualified you don’t get Desolation.
Mayne: Why did you have to bring up Riddick and Savior? Now I can’t stop worrying about what’s going on between them and Cruze and Creed too.
The fans are screaming and pleading with Rich not to do it as he steps across the ring, lifting the steel chair high above his head. The official tries to get in his way but after seeing the fire in Rich’s one good eye he steps out of his path, realizing there is no reasoning with him. Axl gets to a single knee with his side pressed to the turnbuckle, adjusting his gaze to encompass the sight of Rich moving towards him with the chair held high. Axl doesn’t even try to block it as he continues to glare into Rich’s eye, Jon hesitating surprisingly. Although he is gripping the chair tightly and is full of fury Rich is pausing, almost second guessing himself.
Mayne: What are you doing Rich? Take his head off with the chair, do it already!!
Douglas: I think Jon just came to a realization, I think he finally understands what he’s about to do, and what he’s become.
Jon slowly turns towards Desolation, who remains in the cage with glee in his eyes, rubbing his hands together anxiously, savoring the sight of Evermore about to have his head taken off with the chair. Rich breathes hard as he now looks towards Magnus on the stage, who is shaking his head, almost pleading with him not to do it. Once he sees that look in the wise eyes of Magnus he lowers the chair and returns his attention to the now seated Evermore. Finally Rich shrugs his shoulders.
Rich: Wait, what the hell are we doing?
The question strikes Axl as particularly perplexing, having not stopped and asked himself this before, which is baffling to him. He raises his fingers to his sweat smeared chin, beginning to stroke it while he looks around in bewilderment then shrugs his shoulders as well.
Axl: Yeah? Why the hell are we killing each other when that’s the son of a bitch we should be maiming?
Axl points to the cage where Desolation is trapped, the Dark Man’s eyebrow raising. He smirks, as if shocked it took them this long to finally catch on. That’s when Jon turns towards Evermore, extending his hand outward as Axl takes hold of his palm, being assisted to his feet. Both men turn towards the cage where the two muscle bound security guards are stepping forward with their arms crossed over their wide sternums.
Dan: Yes, it’s about time these guys realized they don’t need to be fighting each other, that their hatred is best directed at the real culprit of their misery, the Dark Man.
Mayne: This isn’t fair, they can’t share! It’s only suppose to be one of them getting Desolation tonight, not them both.
Douglas: There’s plenty to go around Billy, and still a lot left over for seconds.
Desolation’s back is pressed to the cage while he smirks deviously in the direction of his two rivals, Axl and Rich slipping through the cables and onto the apron, no longer giving a rats ass about this contest, instead directing their attention towards the Dark Man. They drop down off the apron and approach the cage when one of the guard’s steps towards Rich only to have the top of the chair he’s carrying driven into his darkly clad ribs. The guard bends over before Jon slams the chair over his back with thunderous results, knocking him down hard to the outside mats. Rich now throws the chair down behind him while turning his focus to Desolation then the cage door. Axl lobs a knee into the gut of the other guard and now charges him across the mats, throwing him down head first into the steel steps. His body rams off it violently before he tumbles onto his back, Evermore smirking as he turns and glares through his sweat into the eyes of Desolation. The Dark Man’s attention shifts between both men before he motions towards the lock on the cage door, Rich grabbing the key out of the pocket of the the unconscious guard. He and Axl savor the moment as they move towards the cage, sliding the key into the lock and beginning to open the door. Magnus watches all of this with regret in his eyes, not liking what he’s seeing here, but glad that Rich is starting to realize just how much Desolation has tried to change him.
Billy: Security, security get out here! Get out here and stop this before its too late!!
Douglas: Desolation is finally about to receive his comeuppance, long since deserved.
Mayne: Shut up you sycophant!
The cage door now opens as Desolation is completely trapped and at the mercy of both his opponents, yet he is still smiling for some strange reason. That’s when a steel chair is driven right over Jon’s back from the World Heavyweight Champion Hurse, who just came running through the crowd. Rich is knocked forward into the cage as Desolation grabs him by the head and switches positions with him. Jon hits the cage wall as Desolation begins to jab him in the face repeatedly, while outside the small structure, Hurse has turned into Evermore, who is decking him across the face over and over again. Hurse staggers backwards into the barricade as Axl slugs him under the jaw several times.
Mayne: Thank you God, Mother Mary, all those cartoon characters, for sending Hurse out here to help Desolation!
Douglas: I guess Hurse wasn’t as hurt as we thought he was by Creed and Cruze.
Hurse tries to fight back but is punched again to the face by Evermore, that’s when the hairs on the back of Axl’s neck stand up, prompting him to quickly turn towards Pat Evans, who is running up behind him with a chain wrapped fist. Axl blocks the intended punch of Evans and begins to pop him repeatedly across the jaw. Evans is staggered by each jab as an infuriated Evermore takes great pleasure in inflicting punishment on another of his big rivals.
Douglas: Now Pat Evans is out here fighting with Evermore! This cannot get more chaotic!
Mayne: It’s all been one big spree of violence thanks to this whole cage idea at ringside. I hope AWOL is happy, which I know he never is and that’s even better.
Pat drops the chain on accident but begins to deck Axl to the jaw as well, both men fighting across the mats towards the barricade. Evermore rushes in for a lariat that Pat ducks however, causing Axl to spin and hit the barricade spine first which allows Evans to rush in, jumping into the air. He hits Axl with a crossbody of sorts that takes them both over the barrier and into the sea of humanity, which clears out of the way in shock over what they’re seeing. As soon as they hit the concrete though, Evermore stands up, beginning to punch Evans repeatedly across his face, grabbing a chair off the ground and throwing it at him as well. Evans tries to block it but can’t as it cracks over his skull, causing him to become disorientated as he staggers through the crowd with Evermore in hot pursuit. All the while Rich and Desolation are fighting inside of the small cage when Hurse steps around behind it. He reaches through the mesh slightly and grabs hold of some of Jon’s hair, pulling it backwards and causing him to be trapped, unable to move forward in order to get at Desolation, who quickly exits the cage. He slams the door shut and begins to lock it while the fans start to go nuts at the sight of Magnus stepping up behind the World Champion, clubbing him to his upper back.
Douglas: Now Magnus is in the fray, coming to the aid of his pupil Jon Rich!
Mayne: Damn him, why can’t he simply stay out of other people’s business for once!?!
Screams emanate from the crowd as Magnus kicks Hurse to the gut, almost losing his balance in the process then begins to punch the Champion to his face repeatedly, causing him to fall against the cage that Rich is trying to escape of. He grabs the door, shaking it but can’t escape as Desolation has now locked him inside, backing away with a gigantic, devilish grin on his face. Jon is still shaking the door violently and shouting a slew of four letter words that amuse the Dark Man even greater. That is until his eyes turn towards Magnus assaulting the World Champion, Desolation’s expression changing drastically as a result. Jon realizes this and now begins to shake his head, turning to face Magnus, shouting at him through the mesh wall.
Jon: Get out of here Magnus, go, go!
Magnus does hear him as he’s drilling the Champion to his face with punches. He’s soon forced to listen though as Desolation blasts him over the back with a clubbing blow, causing the older gentlemen to yell out in pain. He stumbles forward a bit before Desolation takes him by the back of the head, charging him face first right into the cage wall. Magnus slams off it violently with the crowd jumping all over Desolation, screaming at him in repulsion. Nobody in the building is pleased as Magnus tumbles to the mats, swiping at his face with his palms while Jon tries to break the cell apart, attempting to escape and save his trainer.
Douglas: Oh no, Desolation attacking Magnus now!
Mayne: He never should have put his hands on Hurse, he was asking for this. And what you ask for, Desolation gives.
Magnus sits up with a slight gash opened in his forehead due to his impact with the cage as Desolation slowly turns towards a wobbly World Champion using the cage to stand up. A grin comes to Hurse’s face as he reaches into the back of his trunks and removes a stapler, causing the fans to react with even greater repulsion, knowing what Desolation can do with such an item. Hurse extends it out towards the Dark Man who graciously takes it, observing the object with great appreciation, savoring even sight and every sensation of this moment. He tilts his head, looking at Jon who is shaking his cranium, threatening the Dark Man with a gruesome demise should he do what he’s thinking. Desolation doesn’t pay heed to his warning as he approaches the struggling Magnus, grabbing him under the jaw and lifting up on his head. All the while his eyes remain fixed on Rich, watching his reaction as the stapler is lifted into the air.
Douglas: God please don’t do this Desolation, please don’t do what your thinking. He took out Jon’s eyes with that stapler at Breathless, lord knows what he has planned now!
Mayne: Magnus kept telling Rich someone close to him would be hurt if this feud continues, and ironically that individual is Magnus himself. Jon caused this, he forced Desolation’s hand.
Jon is now begging Desolation not to do it as he turns towards Hurse who is smiling and laughing cruely. That’s when Desolation turns and places the stapler to one of Magnus’ eyes, driving a staple down into it. An incredible roar of pain emanates from Magnus, who reaches for his eye, the crowd screaming and covering their mouths in disgust over what they were seeing. Some turn away, unable to bare the image of the staple sticking in Magnus’ eye.
Douglas: NO DAMMIT NO!
Mayne: Yeesh, that’s particularly gruesome.
Again Desolation turns towards Rich who is using all his strength to try and rip the cage apart but can’t save his mentor.
Desolation: You wanted me at my best Rich, well now you’ve got me. Hahahaha.
Desolation turns back towards Magnus who is reaching for his bleeding eye, which the Dark Man staples once again. Gasps and groans emanate from the shocked fans as Desolation pulls back on Magnus’ head and places the stapler to his other eye now.
Desolation: Behind these blue eyes….
He begins to sing the Limp Bizkit slow jam as he presses down on the stapler. Another steel staple rips through the eyelid of Magnus and is driven right into his pupil. Rich is leaning against the cage wall, realizing he’s powerless to stop this as Desolation begins to staple both of Magnus’ eyes over and over again. Every steel staple that is in the piece of office equipment finds its way into the eyes of Rich’s mentor, more and more blood flowing out of them as a result.
Billy: Okay Desolation, enough is enough already.
Douglas: Stop this, please somebody stop this, he’s stapling, he’s stapling Magnus’ eyes close, who knows what kind of damage he’s doing to Rich’s mentor! This is disgusting, this is beyond reprehensible! Someone please stop this!!
Hurse watches all of this with a pleasant grin on his face, as if he’s learning something from the Dark Man, who’s hands are smeared with Magnus’ blood. He turns Jon’s mentor towards the cage, with claret gushing down his face and from his stapled eyes. He almost falls over from his knees but Desolation pushes his face forward into the cage wall, Jon kneeling down so that he’s eye to eye with the man who’s trained him for so many years. He’s apologizing over and over again while Desolation leans towards the cage so that Jon can hear him.
Desolation: He warned you Rich, and you didn’t listen. This isn’t my fault, it’s yours!
Finally the Dark Man feels satisfied, backing away from Magnus who falls over onto his side, bleeding profusely from the eyes and passing out due to the pain. A grinning Desolation and a laughing Hurse now back up the ramp, glaring at Rich who is still trapped inside of the cage, leaning forehead first against the mesh as he grits his teeth, breathing heavily.
Douglas: What has Desolation done? What have you done Desolation!?!
Mayne: He’s used Magnus to send a message to Jon, and that’s that you don’t mess with the Dark Man if your not ready for the repercussions.
Dan: There’s no excuse for this, there’s no excuse for this at all!
Jon is almost in tears at the sight of his mentor’s massacre as he glares through the mesh into the face of Desolation, who’s smile vanishes.
Mayne: What a gory act here from Desolation, but ladies and gentlemen, apparently the brawl between the teams of Cruze & Creed and the Rogue Squadron is continuing backstage! How much more brutal can this show get!?!
Douglas: I don’t think it can get anymore brutal than what we’ve just witnessed.
The camera cuts from Magnus lying on the mats, bleeding profusely from his stapled shut eyes to the backstage area where further violence is continuing.
CAGED RAGE
An irate Orlando Cruze continues to throw right hands directly across the jaw of Savior, as he staggers backwards through a large vacant corridor. A few feet away Nathan Creed has grabbed hold of Adam Riddick’s head, pulling back on it and then throwing him forward into a door which almost breaks down around his body. He then steps in and chops him hard across the sternum as an exhausted Renegade turns away from the Future staggering in the direction of that big steel cage that was set up backstage. As soon as he moves towards Nathan rushes up behind him, grabbing him by the hair then charging him face first right into the cage wall. He bashes off of it then turns with his back pressed to the steel, all the while Orlando is also forcing Christian towards the mesh where so many derogatory slurs where spoken earlier in the evening. Cruze grabs the cage door and throws Savior inside of the steel structure, Christian tripping over his own feet and spilling onto the concrete floor. An enraged Orlando follows him in, going straight at the slowly rising Savior and jabbing him to the jaw, all the while Nathan pulls Riddick around the cage and tosses him through the doorway as well.
The irate Creed steps through the doorway, moving towards the slowly rising Riddick then slugging him to the forehead with a hard closed jab. All the while Orlando has taken hold of Savior’s head, charging him at the cage wall before the Rogue Squadron member performs a standing switch, instead throwing Cruze face first into the steel mesh. He bashes off viciously as Savior now buries his shoulder into the ribs of his rival, shoving him backwards into the cage wall as Orlando throws forearms over his back repeatedly. An exhausted Riddick somehow manages the strength to kick Creed right to the ribs and take him by the back of the head, ramming his face into the cage wall. He begins to grind the flesh of Nathan back and forth across the steel as an army of security guards rush into the fray, entering the cage and trying to separate both of these teams.
Creed: Ahhh, you better kill me you son of a bitch!
Riddick’s face is filled with fury as he continues to drive Nathan’s face against the mesh, being surrounded by security who are desperately trying to pull him off. The furious Riddick won’t let go though as he roars and tries to finish Nathan off by continuing to grate his features against the cage. Behind them Orlando has switched positions with Savior, placing his back against the cage and choking him with both hands, strangling the very life out of him. Christian reaches out and places his hands around Cruze’s throat, strangling him as well. Both men’s faces grow increasingly red, slowly transforming to a shade of blue even as a good five security guards grab their arms and try to wedge them away from one another. Nothing will make them let go of each other’s throats however, as they try to steal the lives from one another’s frames. Even while being strangled he’s able to force out words.
Savior: Is that all you’ve got!?! Is that all you’ve got you bastard!?!
Orlando: AAAAHHHH!!
Orlando is almost crushing Savior’s throat within his hands before he’s finally dragged away from his rival, leaving Christian to slide down the cage back first looking into his palms and begin held at bay by guards as well. He lands on his seat while rubbing at his throat and glaring at Orlando in rage. However, security has still not been able to pull Riddick off of Nathan, as he continues to drive his face forward into the cage. The camera on the outside of the cage zooms in on Nathan’s roaring features as they’re pushed through the mesh, and an army of security officers tries to force Riddick off of him.
Douglas: Violence backstage in the cage, and there will be more to come at Extinction when these two teams meet in this demonic structure. Somebody pull these guys apart before there’s nothing left!
Mayne: This rivalry has become beyond personal!
COMMERCIAL BREAK
AVAILABLE ON DVD
SURPRISE!
In a state of other dreariness River Angelus is shown seated backstage. He receives just as dreadful of a reaction as he looks as he leans back in his steel chair yawning with sweat glistening on his frame, having competed earlier in the night in an un-televised dark match. Now he just sits around backstage since he’s obligated to stay throughout the whole telecast, amusing himself by giving his fingernails different names, as well as their own complex back stories as he observes them closely. That’s when his nose begins to sniff the air, his eyes quickly darting back and forth as a result. Finally he turns in his chair and finds himself looking up into the excited face of Sean Johnson, who had been standing behind his chair for who knows how long with that same goofy smile on his face. Held in a small dish in the palm of his hand is a donut, covered in sprinkles and bearing a candle protruding upward from the center, sparkling brightly. Clutched in Johnson’s other hand are the same balloons that were seen earlier in tonight’s telecast.
Sean: SURPRISE! Happy birthday River!
The donut is thrust out in Angelus’ direction, causing him to jump out of his chair quickly, eyeing the plate as well as the unusual individual holding it.
Johnson: Well, are you shocked?
Angelus tries to formulate a sentence but finds it incredibly difficult as he scratches at the back of his bumpy noggin. He can’t think of a single solitary thing to say, and when he does, he’s incapable of uttering it. Finally his words come out forced and stilted.
River: It’s not even my birthday.
This revelation doesn’t sit well with Johnson, at first it seems all his work was for not, until a giant smile begins to settle across his features.
Sean: Oh well, how about we just celebrate the fact that you are who you are. Now blow out the candle, but try not to get any spit on the donut, I barrowed it and promised I’d take it back when we were done.
Angelus doesn’t even bother to blow on the donut as it’s extended out in front of his face. He shakes his head and begins to rub at his eyes with one hand, incredibly flustered by the fact that he just can’t seem to get away from this overbearing Johnson.
Angelus: Sean, we need to talk man. I think we seriously need some time apart or something. I mean, your calling me every hour, your filling up my answering machine with the same message over and over again, your distracting me and Logan in our matches. Your just….
He finally opens his eyes and expects to see a disappointed expression on Johnson’s face, only to realize that he still has the donut stuck out, hovering in front of River’s lips. That same goofy smirk is on Sean’s impatient features. Exasperated, River’s shoulders fall as he sighs and blows out the candle.
Angelus: Are you happy now?
Johnson: I always am when I’m around my best bud.
Sean lowers the donut, placing it on the chair River was just sitting on and then handing over the balloons, forcing them into Angelus’ palm. River lowers his head and shakes it as Sean tries to step towards him with his arms extended out to his sides.
Sean: Now what do you say to a super special birthday hug?
Just as Sean steps forward to embrace his new best bud, River shoots his hand out, placing it to the thick sternum of his overbearing acquaintance, holding him at bay.
River: Okay, that’s just too much. I’ve had enough of this already, I need my personal space….
Johnson: Oh, I understand….
In a sad, timid manner Johnson steps back, lowering his head with his eyes batting. Immediately River fills with dread, but is proud of himself for finally saying what was on his mind.
Sean: If it’s space you want, say no more, and your just going to love this.
River: Love what?
Sean perks up at the very mention of it.
Johnson: So that your not lonely with all that space, I’ll be there to keep you company, especially when you and I team up at Extinction to take on the Second City Saints. I just got out of AWOL’s office and he booked the match in between throwing things at me.
Angelus: YOU WHAT!?!
A chuckling and excited Sean lifts his finger into the air, calling for just one more moment.
Sean: But wait, there’s more. The presents just don’t stop there, because I brought you something else as well for this huge celebration.
Johnson eagerly runs out of frame as River is breathing hard, at the point of implosion. He closes his eyes as he raises his head towards the ceiling, seconds away from unloading his vengeance on the first person he sees.
Sean: Okay River, here’s your other present.
River looks down begrudgingly and immediately regrets opening his eyes, as they now feast upon the sight of Sean Johnson standing before him clutching the reigns attached to a pony. The fans on the inside of the arena go wild while Sean stands in front of the pony, patting it’s misshapen head with a gigantic grin on his face and a huge chip on his shoulder. The longer River looks at this, the sicker to his stomach he becomes.
Angelus: Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.
Eagerly Sean nods his head, his smile growing ever wider.
Johnson: That’s right, it’s a pony, bought here specifically for you to ride. Her name is Buttercup and she may not look it with those patches of fur falling off and the fact that she has no control of her bladder, but she’s damned sturdy. So hop on River.
Sean bends down, cupping his hands together to give River a legs up, as if he’d need it to get on top of such a low riding pony, who looks half dead at this point. Finally Angelus slaps Sean’s hand, filling his supposed best friend with confliction.
Angelus: What the hell is wrong with you? The only things I ride on our ones wearing skirts.
Sean: Oh, I’m sure we can find a skirt for Buttercup.
River: That’s not what I mean….!
In the middle of his angry response he has to stop himself to keep from uttering something truly regretful. He sighs while keeping his fingers dug into the patch of flesh between his eyes, Sean watching introspectively.
Angelus: Would you please just get rid of that monstrosity, and leave me in peace for a few moments before I have an aneurism?
Although confused the Griffin nods and pulls on the reigns of Buttercup.
Johnson: Sure thing River, anything for my new best friend. I’ll just go put her in the trailer in the parking lot until your ready to ride her, until then, sit down, relax, take a load off.
The vengeful eyes of Angelus shoot upward to glare into the face of his apparent partner at the impending Extinction pay-per-view. He may be filled with animosity yet he still slowly approaches the chair at his friend’s behest, not sitting till he makes sure Buttercup is led off frame, which is exactly where she’s going at Sean’s behest. Once she’s passed out of frame River develops the confidence to turn, planting himself in his chair to truly relax. As soon as his posterior hits the seat the loud sound of a squish can be heard that automatically fills River’s face with drear. He tilts slowly and looks down at the squashed donut now flattered and stuck across his rear-end.
THE MYSTERY CONTINUES
The camera again opens to find that same limo parked backstage, with the light from above cascading down upon its polished surface. The sight of an animal carrying trailer attached to a truck can now be seen far in the background, but the individual positioned inside of the limo could care less about the vehicle used to transport Buttercup to this week’s telecast. The mysterious figment continues to wait, buying their time until that perfect moment when they shall emerge through the curtains and reveal their identity.
Douglas: That limo continuing to remain in the parking lot, shrouding in mystery the big name returning tonight.
Mayne: It’s uneasily parked back there, and after the events of tonight I’m frightened at the prospect of who may be waiting to come out here later tonight. Any guesses who it might be?
Dan: I have one guess, and he has the initials D.F.
Billy: Danny Flamingo?
Douglas: No, Daemon Frost, who the hell is Danny Flamingo?
Mayne: I don’t know, I just made it up to sound smart. But I don’t think it’s Daemon Frost. I know who would be arriving in that kind of style, and his name is Johnny Kingdom.
Suddenly the back limo door swings open, a figure beginning to emerge from within.
Billy: Wait, he’s getting out of his limo right now! That must mean he’s on his way out here!
Dan: There’s no telling.
PAT EVANS VS. EL MAGNIFICO
“Outsider” plays throughout the arena. The lights dim and fade to black. After a few moments of the opening piano chord being played, a spotlight shines down on Pat Evans as he walks out from the back, the Submission title belt draped over his title and glistening in conjunction with the flashes of cameras from the stands. The crowd reacts with repulsion as he makes his way down the ramp, but Evans merely ignores their fanfare and walks up to the ring. He looks up at it before walking to the steel steps. He then walks along the apron and enters the ring. He takes off his black trenchcoat, placing it on the top rope in the far corner before pacing the ring as his music fades out. He holds up the Submission title belt and as a result receives a wave of equal repulsion from the crowd, everyone dejected by his ownership of such a belt, and his mere presence.
Douglas: Pat Evans out here after being part of several chaotic scenes tonight, and manipulating a number of situations to ensure said chaotic result.
Mayne: I’m just glad they separate Axl Evermore from him, after that uncalled for attack at the conclusion of the last match.
Dan: Pat was the one who attacked Axl, and on top of that he assaulted Chapel as well. This man has been the instigator of so much chaos tonight and you have the audacity to sit there with a straight face claiming that he’s a victim?
Billy: Yep.
That’s when the Spanish National Anthem hits the PA system and causes the crowd to react with a huge outcry of cheers, everyone equally as excited by the arrival of El Magnifico. Green, red, and white pyrotechnics shoot down from the top of the ramp as the huge individual from south of the border strolls through them onto the stage. He extends his arms out to his sides with the Mexican flag draped over his shoulders and a cheesy, incredibly cheap mask clinging to his face. Strangely, instead of looking almost exactly like Too Magnificent in height and physical proportions, he’s a little more bulky and heavy looking, perhaps not having hit the gym properly over the past couple days. Nevertheless he removes the flag, twirling it and throwing it into the crowd before storming towards the ring, as if he has a serious issue with Pat Evans, who watches him approach the ring with a demented grin on his face.
Mayne: It looks like El Magnifico has been on one of those hoagie, pizza, hamburger diets….
Douglas: That’s not a diet at all.
Billy: That’s what makes it so genius. The point is this man changes shape more than Oprah Winfrey, for crying out loud, he’s able to transform into midgets whenever he wishes.
Dan: I highly doubt he actually has that ability, but he does possess a hell of a lot of talent when he gets into that ring, having gone undefeated since his debut here in the IWC. Will his winning ways continue against the Submission Champion Pat Evans though, especially with his mind being distracted by this $50,000 bounty.
As soon as El Magnifico reaches the bottom of the ramp, out of nowhere charges Seth Reiley, blasting the large masked Mexican over his back. The heroic figure staggers forward into the apron as Seth steps up behind him, grabbing at his mask, trying to rip it off to screams from the crowd.
Douglas: Seth Reiley attacking El Magnifico from behind before this match could begin, trying to go after that mask and earn that 50 grand!
Mayne: Yes, it’s about time, unmask him, show us all who he really is, and I swear to God if it’s Barry Manelow I’ll scream rape.
The fans are screaming as the mighty Magnifico tries to resist his mask being ripped off by this vampire like figure, who is furiously trying to rip the shroud away and reveal his true identity. That’s when Magnifico turns and drives his elbow into Reiley’s ribs, causing him to stagger backwards then get grabbed by the back of the head. Magnifico turns and rushes Reiley across the mats, throwing him directly into the steel steps which barely budge as the huge frame of Seth is sent crashing into them. The masked Mexican adjusts his costume to ensure no portion of his face is visible before he turns towards the ring, beginning to slide in. As soon as he does, Pat drops an elbow over the back of his neck, then stands up and jumps into the air, dropping knee first into his skull. El Magnifico begins to flop around a bit as a result while Pat stands, grabbing the mask of his opponent before he can react then ripping it straight off his skull. The fans begin to boo and scream at the sight of Magnifico’s bald head, left lying on the canvas as Evans proudly boasts by holding the mask up high.
Mayne: Pat’s done it, he’s removed Magnifico’s mask, he’s umasked him!
Douglas: I can’t believe it, Magnifico has been umasked!
Pat is still holding the mask up high and thinking about that extra bonus when Magnifico rises to his knees behind him, revealing himself as Chapel. The entire arena goes nuts at the sight of the demented War Angel glaring at the back of his celebrating rival. Pat turns around slowly when Chapel barrels across the ring and almost rips him in half with a spear.
Douglas: Wait a minute, that was Chapel beneath the El Magnifico mask!
Mayne: Chapel is El Magnifico!?!
Dan: No, he was impersonating Magnifico to get his hands on Evans!
Billy: That whore!
Chapel is throwing punch after punch furiously into the features of Evans, who is trying to get his hands up to protect his skull but is unable to do so. Nevertheless the fans are going absolutely insane with each jab landed to the skull of Evans, as the War Angel rises to his feet, still bleeding slightly from the nose after that MMA match with David Miller earlier in the show. The enraged War Angel steps back, motioning eagerly for a battered Evans to stand, thrusting his large palms upward as he impatiently waits. He stalks his prey as Pat rises to his feet slowly, still holding his ribs in pain, Chapel bending forward with his hands pressed to his knees, ready to uncoil his wrath. That’s when a forearm is thrown over Pat’s back from behind by Axl Evermore, knocking Evans down hard to the canvas. Axl steps over Pat and begins to stomp him repeatedly with the fans once again going insane.
Douglas: And now Evermore is attacking Evans! My God this is madness!
Mayne: Why is everyone picking on Pat? He’s just an innocent bystander!
Dan: Bullshit! He incurred the wrath of both these men with separate attacks earlier in the evening. Now he’s getting his comeuppance.
A surprised Chapel looks up at Evermore, not liking what he is seeing here before he steps forward and without even thinking about it, uppercuts Axl right to the jaw. Evermore is staggered before he steps back in, throwing a shot to the squared jaw of Chapel. The Magnifico impersonator steps back in with a knee to Evermore’s ribs, bending him over forward then taking him by the wrist, whipping him towards the cables. A shocked Axl turns and hits them hard back first as the King of Monsters charges in right after him. That’s when Evermore grabs the top rope, dropping down and pulling down on the cable, causing Chapel to spill over them to the outside mats. He hits them hard back first, rolling to his knees and rising to his feet as Evermore dives over the ropes into a crossbody right on top of him. Both men spill to the mats with a hard thud.
Billy: Now Evermore and Chapel are going at it with one another, getting out the hostilities they wanted to inflict on each other last week when they were forced to be tag team partners.
Douglas: This night has just been non stop violence as we count down to Extinction. All three of these men can’t keep their hands off of one another till one of the biggest pay-per-views in the company’s history where they’ll clash for the Cartel title.
Somehow the beast has risen to his feet, Chapel stepping towards Evermore and exchanging shots with him as both men battle up the ramp towards the backstage area. All the while Pat Evans is forcing himself to his knees in the ring, gripping at his ribs and watching the chaos before finally getting to his feet. He steps towards the cables, motioning for both men to come back to the ring and fight him yet Chapel and Evermore are too predisposed with one another, battling through the curtains to the back. A flustered Evans steps back to the center of the ring, reaching for his jaw and completely unaware that El Magnifico is rolling out from under the ring behind him. He stands up and looks around at the crowd with his finger over his lips, insisting they be quiet as he now rolls under the ropes into the squared circle.
Billy: Hey wait, El Magnifico was hiding under the ring the entire time!
Douglas: That may be the safest place for him tonight given just how many people are out to rip off his mask and collect on the bounty.
Mayne: Turn around Evans, turn around!
El Magnifico is now standing up behind Pat, still asking the crowd to be quiet but they can’t help screaming their heads off at the sight of him. A now baffled Evans, surprised by the turn around in the crowd’s response to his presence, turns around and walks throat first right into the massive palm of Magnifico. He’s now hoisted into the air and chokeslammed viciously into the canvas, El Magnifico landing on his knees at his side. The entire Manhattan Center are going nuts as El Mag drops down on top of Pat, hooking his legs.
Mayne: No, it can’t end this way! It just can’t!!
Douglas: Well it looks like it’s about to with Magnifico getting the drop on Evans!
The referee drops and makes a quick emphatic count.
1
2
The fans react with disdain as Pat shoots his shoulder from the canvas in the nick of time. A dejected Magnifico rises to his feet, taking the hair of Evans and rolling him to his knees before standing him up and placing his head in a front chancery. He drops back into a brutal spike DDT, the skull of his opponent colliding hard with the canvas. After slamming into the ring he rolls onto his back, Magnifico crawling into a quick cover once more.
1
2
Somehow Pat has the strength remaining to kick out once more, causing the fans to react with even more boos.
Mayne: Thank God, he kicked out. Assuming Jesus practices good hygiene I’ll kiss his feet for that one.
Douglas: I’d respond to that, but I’d actually like to think I still have a shot at heaven.
Billy: Unlike at getting a raise, hahahaha.
Dan: If you bring that up one more time I swear…I’ll….I’ll… piss and moan again.
An intense Magnifico grabs the hair of his opponent, dragging him to his feet then delivering a vicious European Uppercut to his jaw. The stiff strike causes Evans to almost be taken down as he staggers around just long enough for Magnifico to bounce off the cables, rushing in with a well timed boot directly to his skull. The shot takes Pat down to the canvas back first, flopping around after the shot while El Mag backs into the turnbuckle, waiting for him to stand up. Somehow Pat possesses the strength, or is just feeding off adrenaline, rising to his feet and turning right into a running back elbow to the face from Magnifico. He’s taken down to the canvas then rolls to his knees, standing right back up and stepping into a hard lariat right across the throat. Pat collapses to the canvas once again, rolling to his knees as El Magnifico takes him by the back of the head, rushing him across the ring right into the nearest turnbuckle. He pulls back on Pat’s skull and rams him face first into the top turnbuckle pad, but keeps hold of the hair. Magnifico looks around at the fans then pulls back on Evans’ skull again, ramming it against the turnbuckle as the fans now begins to count along, the might Mexican repeating this move over and over.
Fans: Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis, siete, ocho, neueve, diaz!
By the tenth headbunt of the turnbuckle Pat is left glassy eyed, completely and utterly unaware of his location. Magnifico takes his dazed opponent by the shoulder, spinning him around then burying his shoulder to his ribs, lifting him into the air as he sits him on the top rope. The deceivingly quick Magnifico makes his way up the turnbuckle as well now, placing his arm across Evans’ chest while grabbing the back of his pants, setting up for an exploder suplex off the top rope. The crowd cheers this until Evans awakes long enough to drive the back of his elbow into Magnifico’s skull, hitting him several times to the cranium. The blows are enough to weaken Magnifico, causing him to lower his arm from his opponent’s chest while bending forward, Evans stepping up onto the turnbuckle above him. He now jumps over El Mag’s back, catching him around the waist and hitting a sunset flip powerbomb off the turnbuckle. A groan emanates from the fans at he sight of Magnifico’s frame connecting with the canvas, Evans eagerly standing up as he buries his shoulders into the back of his hefty opponent’s knees.
1
2
El Magnifico defiantly kicks out to much applause from the fans, a surprised Evans dropping to his knees, looking with dead eyes at the referee.
Mayne: Dammit ref learn how to count properly! Pat Evans had the win there and you cheated him with your slow, arthritic joints.
Douglas: The ref is like 20.
Billy: Then there’s no excuse for his body to be in such horrid condition.
Magnifico turns onto his stomach, trying to get up before Evans scoots to his side and grabs his arm, targeting a body part almost immediately. The irate Evans begins to drive his elbow into the shoulder and bicep of Magnifico repeatedly, trying to inflict as much damage as possible while given this brief opportunity. He stands and drops with all his weight behind his knee into the bicep of Magnifico, who groans in pain, trying to stand up only to have Evans wrap up his arm, placing it in a modified fujiwara. Both men slowly rise to their feet nevertheless, Evans transitioning into a arm ringer at this point, clasping his hands tightly about the wrist of an increasingly agitated Magnifico. El Mag suddenly pulls Pat towards him and delivers a forearm under his jaw, causing him to break the submission hold and stagger in reverse. Just as he does this El Magnifico steps in with another European Uppercut directly under the jaw, which almost takes Pat down to the canvas. After connecting with the move though, El Magnifico turns away from his opponent, shaking his arm as if that just caused him some pain as well. Nevertheless the Mexican hero turns towards Pat, throwing his fist at his face as he comes staggering out of the ropes only for Evans to jump into the air, catching him around the arm then dragging him down into a divorce court arm breaker. The thick arm of his opponent crashes into both his sternum and the canvas as Pat immediately switches around, establishing the fujiwara armbar. This gets another loud roar from Magnifico, as well as boos from the crowd, realizing that Evans is now firmly on the advantage, finding his comfort zone as he hones in on an injured body part. Pat leans back, almost separating the shoulder from the arm as a result, causing Magnifico to push himself up onto his free elbow, roaring at the top of his lungs in absolute agony.
Billy: Evans has the fujiwara after the divorce court arm breaker! He’s not the Submission Champion for nothing.
Douglas: Indeed, he’s targeting that arm almost immediately, trying to rip it to shreds in order to stop his opponent from utilizing any of those big power moves.
Pat is leaning back as far as he can until he hears that magical little snap that will end the contest. Of course Magnifico won’t give him the pleasure of hearing it or him wail any longer, dragging himself towards the ropes with all the strength in his remaining good arm. He’s able to reach out and grab the bottom rope now, leaving Evans emotionless as the official steps in starting a four count and ordering him to break the submission hold. Pat does so but quickly twists the arm around, placing it in a hammerlock behind Magnifico’s back then dropping with his knee directly into the shoulder once again. El Mag unleashes a loud groan before he’s grabbed around the jaw, pulled up onto his knees and left in the prone position. Evans rushes into the cables in front of him, bouncing off the ropes then coming back in with a basement dropkick directly to El Mag’s shoulder. The collision knocks El Magnifico onto his back and sends him rolling under the ropes onto the apron. His hand is wrapped around his shoulder as he sits up on the apron, his back pressed to the cables. As soon as he sits up though, Evans reaches through the ropes, grabbing his arm. He folds it over the middle cable backwards, rearing in reverse and trying to do as much damage to that shoulder as humanly possible, really ripping at it with the help of the ropes. El Mag is shouting in pain once more, attempting to find a way to escape this hold as the referee steps in, starting a five count and reaching four before Evans breaks the illegal hold.
Evans backs up with his palms held high, insinuating that he did nothing wrong before stepping up behind his large opponent, reaching through the cables and grabbing hold of Magnifico’s mask. The fans react with disgust as he now tries to rip the mask off, thus earning that fifty grand and in the process getting a decisive mental advantage over El Mag. To prevent this El Magnifico grabs the bottom of his mask, holding down on it and rising to his feet slowly, causing Evans to have to reach over the ropes to keep his grasp on his opponent. As soon as Magnifico stands up he reaches over the cables, grabbing Pat by the hair then dropping off the apron, pulling Evans down throat first into the top cable. Pat is choked as a result, staggering in reverse and slapping his hands about his throat, El Magnifico sliding into the ring and going straight after him. He comes rushing in when Pat side steps him, connecting with a drop toe hold that sends El Magnifico crashing forward into the canvas. As soon as he hits it, Pat dives forward, grabbing the arm of Magnifico once again, trying to establish the fujiwara. Just as it seems that he’s got the arm trapped Magnifico shows his agility by rolling forward across the canvas, getting to his feet then charging in. He steps in for a running boot but Pat rolls backwards onto his knees, reaching up and sweeping El Mag’s legs out from under him, sending him tumbling backwards spine first into the canvas. He crashes onto his back while Pat dives at the arm once again, grabbing hold of it.
Douglas: Pat going back after that arm once again, he is just maliciously targeting it at this point no matter what El Magnifico does.
Mayne: Hahahaha, this is great, he’s going to break Magnifico’s arm and in the process remove his mask to earn that $50,000, hopefully he splits a little with me, since I’ve been such a faithful supporter all these months.
Dan: Yes, I’m sure the first person he’ll think about splitting money with is you Billy.
It’s obvious that Evans is out cripple that arm as El Magnifico lies on his back and now pushes himself upwards, driving his knee into the back of Evans’ cranium. He hits him several times with the knee, causing Pat to let go of the arm as he falls to all fours, El Magnifico rolling away from him. When the Mighty Mexican hero gets to his knee, Pat stands up and steps towards him, slapping on a side headlock and in the process trying to rip his mask off once again. The crowd is screaming as he gets the mask up above his chin and mouth this time, slowly peeling it off while El Mag gets to his knees, trying his best to fight it. Pat is relentless though in his struggle to remove the mask, but his opponent is just as determined to keep it on, his job possibly relying on maintaining the mystery of his true identity. Therefore he rises to his feet and pushes backwards, driving his spine into Evans and powering him in reverse directly into a nearby turnbuckle. As soon as he hits the corner Pat pushes himself up it backwards, El Magnifico staggering forward and trying to adjust his mask only to have Evans jump off the second cable, connecting with a knee directly to the back of his shoulder. A roar of anguish emanates from the big man as he tumbles to one knee, leaning against the ropes for support and holding his shoulder in incredible pain.
Realizing that he has him exactly where he wants him, Pat steps in, reaching out and grabbing hold of his arm. He lifts it into the air, establishing an armbar at this point, pushing down on the shoulder while lifting up on the remainder of the arm. Groans emanate from Magnifico, yet he still remains determined to keep his winning streak in tact, therefore he drops down sideways towards the cables. This sends Pat charging towards them, spilling through the ropes then twisting as he crashes onto the mats hard back first. His body impacts with the thin matting hard, causing him to roll the rest of the way over onto his elbows and knees. In the process Magnifico is crawling towards the center of the ring with his banged up arm cradled against his sternum, attempting to block the pain as he realizes he’s in for the long haul in this contest. Struggling to reach his feet he turns to spot Evans pulling his equally as battered body up onto the apron, resting upon it on his knees. Just then El Magnifico comes rushing across the ring, extending his boot and planting it straight to Pat’s face, knocking him off the apron, sending him crashing to the mats once more spine first.
Douglas: El Magnifico desperately fighting back in this match against all the odds, even if his arm is hanging by a thread right now.
Mayne: Get your ass up Evans, your basically fighting a one armed man right now. And not one of those special, handicapped, Goodwill games type of one armed men….
Dan: Please stop rambling.
The tired Magnifico reaches through the ropes for Pat now, grabbing hold of his hair as he stands up. He gets a firm grasp of his opponent’s follicles when Pat reaches up, grabbing hold of his opponent’s wrist then dropping onto his back, pulling the shoulder of Magnifico down into the middle cable. El Mag again finds his teeth gritting in pain as he turns away from Evans, stumbling to the center of the ring and doubling over as he keeps the arm pressed to his stomach. Somehow he’s trying to fight through this anguish long enough to pick up a win, even as Pat slides in after him, the dangerous submission expert moving up right behind the agony ridden Magnifico. He reaches out, grabbing the mask of his opponent again and starting to rip it as he attempts to remove the fibers that hide his opponent’s mischievous features. Suddenly Magnifico steps back though, hooking his arm around Pat’s waist then lifting him into the air before dropping down into a side slam, planting his opponent’s back against the canvas. Immediately after hitting the move Magnifico turns away from Pat, grabbing hold of his shoulder and rising to his feet as the Submission Champion attempts to do the same. Both men get up slowly with Pat still bent over forward, allowing Magnifico to charge forward and deliver a knee directly to his face. Evans stands up straight, swinging his arms in an attempt to keep upright before Magnifico spins around into a roaring lariat. Just then Pat ducks it and twists with his body, grabbing hold of the arm, again trying to drag him down and trap him with the fijuwara. The crowd is screaming, realizing that their Spanish superior is about to be force into submission. To everyone’s shock though Magnifico is able to turn enough to press his back to Pat’s, reaching out and hooking both his arms before dragging him down into a surprise back slide.
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Pat kicks out to the dismay of the sold out audience, rolling over backwards onto his knees then rushing forward right at his opponent. Magnifico catches him to the chest and stomach, throwing him up into the air then stepping back as he comes crashing down to the canvas chest and face first. He bounces hard off the ring, rising up to his knees as a result of the impact while El Mag turns towards him, rushing in with a well timed, hard boot right to the side of his face. Pat is knocked onto his back after such a lethal strike, El Magnifico turning and falling spine first into him, unable to hook his leg with his bad arm though.
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To the shock of everyone Evans is able to get his shoulder up again, barely kicking out once more, especially after taking such a devastating kick to his skull. A stunned El Magnifico sits up, mumbling some Spanish between exhausted breaths.
El Magnifico: Quijadas duras malditas!
Billy: El Magnifico just said it all.
Douglas: Do you have any idea what he actually said?
Mayne: Something about loving Carebears?
The drained Magnifico rises to his feet while Pat turns away from him, utilizing the cables to drag himself upwards. Just as he stands he turns towards El Mag who jabs him under the jaw, then does it once again. Each shot causes Pat to be launched backwards against the ropes, bouncing off of them and then staggering forward right into the grasp of Magnifico, catching him by the throat once again. He throws his arm up into the air but it pains him to lift his shoulder, therefore he doesn’t show much fanfare as he hoists Evans into the air for the chokeslam. Suddenly Pat is able to squirm free though, transitioning in mid-air as he twists and lands on his feet behind the massive back of his opponent. He now reaches up, grabbing hold of Magnifico’s mask and twisting it around so that he can no longer see out of the eyeholes. El Mag is blinded as he flails his hands around in confusion, unaware that Pat has dropped down behind him, grabbing the back of his trunks. Evans pulls him over in reverse into a school boy, the official dropping and making the count while Pat reaches out and grabs the middle rope for further leverage.
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Magnifico kicks out just barely, causing Pat to drop onto his side then roll under the ropes with great quickness, no matter how sluggish he may be. He drops to the mats feet first and then staggers around, almost loosing his footing as sweat cascades down his battered frame.
Mayne: And Pat’s winning ways continue! There’s nobody who can beat this man, no one, not even the Masked Mexican hero!
Douglas: He had to resort to blinding El Magnifico with his own mask for crying out loud, you make it sound like he dominated him!
Mayne: He did from my perspective.
Dan: And we all know how reliable that perspective is.
An exhausted and furious El Magnifico is sitting up in the ring, reaching for his shoulder in the process and glaring straight at Evans who escaped this match by the skin of his teeth. A very tired Pat has thrust the Submission title belt over his shoulder and finds himself almost losing his footing as he stumbles up the ramp in reverse. He falls to a single knee while glaring towards El Magnifico in the ring and cracking a cruel smile as a result.
Billy: Although he may not have unmasked him tonight, Pat got something just as good, another victory.
Douglas: El Magnifico has nothing to be ashamed of in this one, he was blinded then rolled up into a school boy for crying out loud. Just like that Pat Evans has made himself yet another enemy here tonight and another thing….
Pat staggers through the curtains as Dan’s comment is cut off by a sudden dimming of the house lights. El Magnifico looks around in bewilderment as do the fans, unsure of what this is all about.
Mayne: Oh God, the lights are going dim again, I thought we had our daily dose of Silencer, if you get too much you go into diabetic shock.
Douglas: I don’t think this has anything to do with Silencer, I’m assuming that this returning big name is about to make their presence felt.
Billy: How do you know that?
Dan: The voice on my headset just told me.
Mayne: Oh.
Magnifico continues to look around in confusion, as do the fans who suddenly find themselves becoming anxious. They move to the edge of their seats, all eyes turning towards the entry way as they await the arrival of this huge returning star. The dimmed lightning helps to set the mood as the anxiety amongst all those onlookers escalates and escalates to an epic crescendo. The hair on Billy’s arm begins to stand up, making him all the more antsy.
Billy: I’m getting nervous Dan, I can tell because my palms are sweaty and my voice is changing in decibels. That or I’m going through puberty again. Yeah, again.
Douglas: The fact that you’re a late bloomer isn’t funny or interesting anymore, what is intriguing is not the fact that you fail to have a single hair sprouting from your sternum but the fact that we’re being forced to sit on pins and needles in anticipation of this returning big name.
Billy: Yeah, stop making us wait, I’m urinating myself from the anxiety.
El Magnifico’s head tilts as he observes the entry way, still sweating profusely after the conclusion of that grueling bout, just as eager to learn this returning big name’s identity as everyone else in the packed Manhattan Center.
A FAMILY REUNION
Oddly enough an unfamiliar tune begins to sound through the loud speakers, as the lyrics of Not Listening by Papa Roach are sung loudly with a guitar solo kicking in in the background. Every fan watching on bear speculative expressions, twisted glances in the direction of the entry way, unsure of what to make of this as a completely unfamiliar figure now strolls through the curtains. With a somewhat arrogant swagger to his child bearing hips this mysterious individual strolls carelessly onto the entry way, several people following behind, snapping pictures of his every movement and gyration. Decked out in a fine suit and clutching a microphone he stops on the stage, surveying the many screaming fans with an aura of disdain.
Mayne: I guess this guy is out here to make the announcement of our big returning star.
Douglas: I sure as hell hope so.
Wearing a pompous grin the mysterious figure continues to overlook the fans, some of which cheering as they are aware of his identity it appears.
Billy: Wait a minute, don’t I know this guy from somewhere?
Finally he lifts the microphone to his half smirking lips.
???: Do you all feel that energy? Are you all experiencing the electricity that is so thick in the air right now? Do you know why the hairs on your arms are standing, why you’re getting goosebumps and sweating so profusely? It’s simple, I’ll tell you why you’re experiencing this mixture of emotions, this unraveling of your stability. The reason you’re so wired and at the same time left so numb is because a “Gray” has set foot in a company that was built from the ashes of his family’s legacy! That’s right, the returning name that everyone has been so eager to see, is “Gray!” I am the son of the legendary Lethal Weapon, of the brilliant and seductive Sheryl Gray, I am Scott Gray-Harris, and I’ve come back to the home of my parents to restore their legacy!
The fans have a mixed reaction, many of them shrugging their shoulders and glancing awkwardly at one another. Finally they force their hands together in a slow, dramatic manner, although they have no idea why they’re cheering. All the while El Magnifico scratches at the back of his tilted head in bewilderment.
Douglas: What? This is the big returning name? Gray? This guy thinks just because he’s the son of Lethal Weapon and Sheryl Gray that he deserves to build up all our anticipation and hopes like this, only to have it end so flatly?
Mayne: I knew I recognized him, I’ve seen this guy in a leather loincloth….
Dan: You met him at a gay club?
Billy: No, I saw him on TV, he’s in that show with all those other bug muscular guys wearing leather outfits and chucking spears. But I only watch it for, uhhh, ummm, the articles?
Douglas: You mean he’s a celebrity to? First David Arquette and now this guy?
Scott moves back and forth on the stage, unbuttoning his coat to make himself appear more physically imposing. All the while his eyes remain fixed on the ring and Magnifico who is still watching on in utter bewilderment. He is pointed at by Harris who only seems to be referencing him in passing.
Scott: You can go ahead and vacate the ring my parent’s built and financed for so many years now, because I’m here to reclaim it’s honor, and it’s glory. Go sell oranges on the off-ramp or whatever you’re good for, because your services are no longer needed, your mere presence is eclipsed by a real celebrity, a real star. Unlike you quasi celebrities, who earn only an iota of fame for your ability to sell bumps, I have actual superstar status, as I come from the home of bright lights and red carpets. I’ve emerged from Hollywood and found my way back home. Although my parents may not agree with my decision, I think it’s for the best that I’ve come back here to save this company, to return it to the greatness that it once knew. I must restore respect in the initials of this company, because although they may not read ULW any longer, they still reflect the history of my family’s creation, and I’ll be damned if gimmicks like yourself destroy it. Ladies and gentlemen, the ratings just went through the roof, and the buyrates just skyrocketed, because the star of the recently green lighted Troy has arrived, and the name Gray will continue to be synonymous with this company…..
El Magnifico: Pardon, pardon, pardon por favor!
Somehow Magnifico has gotten hold of a microphone in the ring, stepping towards the ropes and leaning on them as he scowls through the eyeholes in his mask, setting his sights on the overly confident Scott Gray-Harris. He holds his finger up for a moment and suddenly reaches into his trunks, removing a small tape recorder that he fastens to his belt line. He now removes a thing of head phones, inserting them into the tape recorder and putting them in his ears as well. He hits the play button, listening to the tape “Spanish Insults for Dummies,” and nodding his head in the process. Finally he lifts the mic back to his lips and storms towards the cables once more, pointing over them into the agitated face of Scott, who is still having photos taken of him from behind.
El Magnifico: Cierra para arriba estupido!
With his shaking finger he points at Scott, who acts stunned that he was just insulted in such a manner.
Douglas: You tell this Hollywood phony Magnifico. How dare he come into this building and think he deserves the royal treatment because his last, hyphenated name is “Gray-Harris.”
Mayne: That’s not the only reason Dan, celebrities equal ratings, therefore they should get more preferential treatment than others, and they should have their garbage looted through by yours truly.
The crowd is screaming with joy at El Magnifico’s demand as Scott continues to scowl in his direction, lifting the microphone again to his lips.
Scott: How dare you address me, a celebrity, a Gray in such a derogatory manner. If you think simply because I come from places of megalomaniacs, stretch limos, and proper hygiene that I can’t throw down, your horribly, horribly mistaken pal. I’ll show you what I’m made of right now.
The photographers behind Scott flash more photos as he moves down the ramp, removing his jacket, twirling it in his hand then throwing it down on the stage. He begins to undo the cufflinks on his wrist as he storms directly towards Magnifico, who is bent forward, motioning for the so called star to enter the ring and show him what he’s capable of.
Douglas: We’re about to see if Scott has the in ring knowledge to back up his big talk!
Mayne: Of course he does, it’s in his genes.
Scott continues towards the ring as Magnifico continues to bait him in, eager to fight this misleading bastard. As soon as Gray-Harris gets within a few feet of the ring he stops and immediately begins to back up the ramp, causing the crowd to react with repulsion. His head shakes back and forth at this point, as if he has no intention of giving into El Magnifico’s demands. Again he lifts the microphone up to his lips and grabs his jacket off the ramp, throwing it back over his shoulder.
Scott: You know what, forget it. You’re not even worth my time, and I’m not going to allow someone like you to spoil my huge, grandiose debut. These people can wait to see what I’m capable of in the ring, because all they need to know now, is that I’m a Gray, and that means I’m better than everyone in this building.
The microphone slips through Scott’s fingers and drops with a thud to the ramp, backing up slowly through the swarm of photographers. He turns and walks with that Gray swagger through the curtains to the back, his entourage following closely behind.
Mayne: Scott Gray-Harris doing the right thing by not marring his debut in controversy by fighting with Magnifico.
Douglas: I don’t know rather to call Scott a coward or just become repulsed at the mere thought of another Gray being here in the IWC.
Billy: He’s not a coward, he just doesn’t want to grace that ring with his presence, until he’s ready.
El Magnifico looks miffed in the ring with a titled head, batting eyes and anger clearly depicted on his furious features.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
LEARN TO TALK, BEFORE YOU’RE GIVEN A MIC
PONY-JACKING
The just debuted Scott Gray-Harris marches through the enclosed parking structure with a jacket over his shoulder and mixed emotions clear in his eyes. Although its obvious that he’s upset over the way El Magnifico tried to ruin his debut, he’s still quite pleased with how it turned out, mumbling under his breath nevertheless as he moves towards his parked, prepared limo.
Scott: No one ruins the debut of a Gray, no one. He’s going to pay for his disrespect when I’m ready, you just wait and see, I’m a celebrity dammit, I should be treated with respect, respect I say!
Scott moves directly towards the open door of his limo, being held in place by a chubby chauffer with a stoic expression on his face. Without even acknowledging his presence Scott slips into the backseat of his limo and grabs the door, slamming it shut behind him. The chauffer moves around the limo and hops in the driver’s seat, starting up the vehicle and pulling out of the building, passing by Sean Johnson who is shoving hay into the trailer carrying Buttercup. The little pony struggles to stick its head out from the back of the trailer, watching as Johnson fights to rip apart bails of hay and toss them inside for Buttercup to feast on. There is literally hay strewn absolutely everywhere spread across the concrete at this point, Sean showing why he wouldn’t make much of a competent farmer.
Johnson: I just don’t know what his problem is Buttercup. Most people would be overjoyed to have a pony, I know I would. I mean, did you see how angry he was with us?
The thought of River’s abundant frustrations forces a huge smile to Johnson’s face, as if he’s quite pleased with himself for making Angelus become so turbulent with hostilities. Nevertheless of rather he’s happy with himself or not he continues to force the hay into the back of the trailer with Buttercup barely paying attention to it. All the while Johnson remains unaware of a figure moving towards the truck that the trailer is attached to. It’s none other than Second City Saint member Shannon Blaze, creeping ever so slowly towards the driver’s side door. He reaches up and smoothly opens it without a sound then slides into the seat as quiet as a mouse. Finally the door shuts with Sean unable to hear it’s slam over his heavy breathing and the sound of the hay cracking. He reaches down and grabs another big bushel when the truck starts up, Sean’s eyes darting back and forth with suddenness. The bushel falls out of his arms as Sean turns in time to watch as his vehicle speeds away, dragging the trailer and Buttercup along with it. A shocked Johnson tries to rush out of the truck but trips over the bushel, tumbling forward onto the concrete elbows first.
Sean: No, hey, wait, wait!
His pleas go unanswered as the truck speeds out of the building, pulling the poor, defenseless Buttercup along with it. As the pony passes out of frame Johnson roars melodramatically.
Johnson: BUTTERCUP! BUTTTTTTEEERRRCCCCUUUPPPP!!!
ROBIN BROOKS VS. KELLY HART
”Push it to the Limit” starts to play over the PA system, causing the crowd to have a very mixed response, especially after what they just witness transpire backstage. Nevertheless, Kelly Hart steps through the curtains, not going through with his usual entrance from the crowd as he almost looses his footing, almost falling over while holding his arms over his lungs. He is laughing in hysterics, wiping tears from his eyes in the process. He has to stop halfway down the ramp, bending forward and placing his hands on his knees as he just continues to laugh hysterically over the theft of Johnson’s truck and pony. After much duress he forces himself to stand, moving towards the ring while breathing hard and rolling under the ropes to the inside of the squared circle.
Douglas: The Second City Saint’s Kelly Hart entering the ring and apparently just getting a kick out of the fact that his partner Shannon Blaze just kidnapped Buttercup backstage.
Mayne: The Second City Saints said early in the week that they’d crash the party, and that’s exactly what they did, and it’s freaking hilarious.
Dan: Well after what has been an insane night just a week removed from Extinction, Kelly has got to remain centered and focused on his match. If he wins he’ll become the new number one contender for the X-Class title.
Billy: Which Robin had no right to steal from Christian Savior.
Douglas: It was her belt in the first place.
Mayne: Now your just splitting hairs.
Kelly gets into the ring and tries to prepare for the impending match but finds himself doubling over with laughter once again. He finds it difficult to breath while leaning on the ropes for support.
ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?
Robin: Steven, would you just calm down and let me explain!
Right behind the curtains stands Robin Brooks with the X-Class title belt hanging from her grasp, glistening brightly, sparkling with almost more radiance than the World Championship over Hurse’s shoulder. The Master of Control glares at Brooks furiously, his nostrils flaring and his eyes burning with rage the longer he looks at his love. Although she’s trying to rationalize almost costing him the match earlier in the evening, he wants to hear none of it, stroking the World title over his shoulder impatiently.
Brooks: It’s my belt, I had every right to go out there and take it back. So can you please get over it and come out there with me to have my back?
Suddenly the monotony of Hurse’s fury is broken up with a grin as he begins to shake his head back and forth, chuckling almost maniacally.
Hurse: Well, since you want to do everything on your own, and only care about yourself, why don’t you go to that ring and handle your own business without me? I hope you and your title belt are real happy with each other, because your going to be spending a lot of time alone together! Don’t think I don’t know who you were really intending to hit with that belt a few moments ago.
Robin: Steven please…
Hurse won’t hear any of it, turning and storming out of scene, leaving Brooks standing there pained and exasperated. She begins to move towards the curtains as her entrance music can be heard playing in the background.
MATCH CONTINUED
Rumor by Lindsey Lohan is continuing to play in the background as the fans wait anxiously for the emotionally turbulent Robin Brooks to arrive. All the while Kelly Hart is jumping in the ring, getting his body physically prepared for the impending onslaught.
Douglas: Things certainly not going well between Robin Brooks and Hurse backstage, which certainly doesn’t vote well for their chances at Extinction when they team up to take on Psycho and Killjoy.
Mayne: It’s about time Hurse truly saw Robin for what she is, a destructive, devious little minx. I hope she realizes just how much damage she’s done.
Dan: That needs to be the last thing on her mind right now Billy, because she’s about to clash with a man who is trying to earn a shot at her X-Class title, which she proudly took back earlier in the evening.
Billy: Don’t you mean stole?
Rumor by Lindsay Lohan is still playing over the speaker system; the lights in the area begin to dim just a little leaving only the stage area fully lit. After about 15 seconds of music is heard before the curtains start to move and out strolls the dreary Robin Brooks, who is trying not to show her instabilities at the moment and proudly holding up her reclaimed X-Class title belt. She is once again, noticeable without her sidekick Hurse, considering his recent dejected departure from the arena. She sprints to the middle of the stage as white pyro goes off sending stars above the young wrestler, which glimmer off her title belt. Red sparklers are now shooting off along the edge of the stage and ramp. The fans place their hands together when Robin begins to show some of her talent by doing some of her kick boxing moves. Robin appreciates the attention she is getting and she waves and blows kisses to the crowd to show her thanks for their support. Sprinting down the ramp, as the pyro display begins to fade, she continues to wave and smile at the fans, blowing them kisses or doing a summersault every once in a while. Upon reaching the ring, she pulls her self up using the ropes, now on the apron; she once again shows her dexterity by flipping over the top rope, twisting in the air and landing a few feet away from the edge of the ring. As soon as she turns around Kelly Hart jumps into the air, going for a leg lariat to her throat that Brooks quickly ducks under. She spins to face Kelly and begins to jab him to the face repeatedly, the crowd putting their hands together over the quick, frantic start to this contest.
Douglas: Hart went for a cheap shot, which just goes to show how badly he wants a possible title shot, but it back fired as Brooks ducked out of the way just in the nick of time.
Mayne: Damn, I was looking for to Robin’s head popping off like a pez dispenser should Kelly have landed with that agile kick.
Brooks has dropped her X-Class title as she jabs Kelly to the face and now chops him hard across the sternum. The collision sends Hart flying backwards against the ropes, bouncing off of them and then staggering forward into the hands of Brooks, wrapping them around his skull then snapmaring him over seat first onto the canvas. As soon as he lands Brooks steps up behind him, delivering a swift kick to the back of his head. Kelly begins to flop around as a result, falling to the ring then rolling across it in the direction of the cables. The magical young man doesn’t get very far as he’s grabbed by the hair and forced to his feet by a more intense Black Widow. She traps his cranium then charges forward, jumping into the air and pulling Kelly down face first into the ring with a running bulldog. The face of Hart is driven hard into the ring as he pops up onto his knees as a result, instinctively trying to stand up after his skull took such a pounding. As soon as he gets up though, Brooks rolls in reverse, sticking her legs out and wrapping them around Hart’s waist, then pushing herself up from her palms into a wheelbarrow. She’s hoisted all the way up onto Kelly’s shoulder, where she again wraps her arm around his neck and pulls him down face first into the ring with a second bulldog, this one even more vicious than the last. Hart bounces from the ring nose first then rolls onto his back, looking spent already as Brooks crawls into the cover, hooking the leg of her prospective challenger.
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The Second City Saint member shows the reliance remaining in his body by kicking out, even after that offensive flurry by a now irritated Brooks. Usually not one to protest the speed of a count, she does so on this occasion, perhaps wanting to get this night over with quickly, especially considering everything that’s happened tonight.
Mayne: Come on Hart, pull a rabbit out of your hat, or summon a tiger to eat Robin’s throat, do something magical!
Douglas: I doubt he’s experienced enough in the art of magic to conjure forth a tiger Billy, but he’s got to start showing what abilities he does have in this match, which is being dominated by Brooks at this point.
A sluggish Kelly begins to force himself to his feet in the center of the ring as Robin comes charging in straight at his head, catching him around the neck. She pulls him around into a swinging neckbreaker only for Hart to spin out of it, turning to face her back then wedging his shoulder into the small of her spine. He hoists her into the air and quickly twists her around into a sit-out powerbomb to the shock of the fans. He leans forward into the back of the Black Widow’s legs, trying his best to pin the Champion quickly.
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Robin gets her shoulder off the canvas, leading to Kelly rolling over backwards onto his feet as a sluggish chamion sits up in front of him. Just as she does this Kelly charges in, jumping forward into a shinning wizard aimed at her face, only for Brooks to drop onto her back, avoiding it. This causes Hart to land on his feet over top of her head as Brooks reaches up, wrapping her arms around his waist then pulling him over backwards into a sunset flip style pin.
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Kelly kicks out, dropping over backwards onto his knees while his quick, sudden opponent stands up in front of him, charging in with cat like quickness. She throws a lariat at his neck only for Hart to duck under it and catch her arm as it comes at his throat, switching around behind her back and then wrapping his arm around her neck. Kelly pulls her all the way around into a full rotation before topping it off with a devastating spinning neckbreaker variation. The back of her skull hits the ring with tremendous force while she sits up almost immediately, reaching for neck. As soon as she reaches her seat Kelly steps up behind her, jumping into the air then planting a dropkick directly to the back of her head. The grazing blow causes Brooks to yell in pain, falling onto her side and leaving her completely exposed for Hart who stands up then charges forward, going into a headstand. He remains in this position for a moment then spins around out of it as he falls directly into an elbow drop to Robin’s sternum, causing Brooks to begin flopping around as a result. Kelly rolls onto his knees and sticks his arms out to his sides, grinning widely as if increasingly proud of himself. One person who isn’t thankful for his abilities and athleticism is Brooks, who is holding her ribs as she breathes deeply and turns over onto her elbows and knees. She starts to push herself up only for Kelly to step in, wrapping his arms around her waist then lifting her up off the canvas and dropping her down ribs first directly onto his knee. The gut buster sends shockwaves of pain through Robin’s mid-section, but Hart isn’t through yet, wrapping his arm around her sternum and pushing her back up to her feet. As soon as she stands up Kelly hooks his leg around her own then drops back into a modified downward spiral. Robin’s skull collides with a thud against the hard ring, rolling onto her back as Hart crawls quickly into the cover.
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The crowd reacts pleasurably at the sight of the Black Widow again getting her shoulder up off the canvas. On this occasion Hart finds himself the one protesting the speed of the official’s count.
Douglas: Kelly Hart going for several quick pinfall attempts after displaying some amazing athleticism.
Mayne: These little buggers sure are inventive aren’t they, just like me, but not in terms of moves. You know I once invented a toaster oven that would tell the weather?
Dan: Putting a hand held television inside of a toaster does not count as an invention Billy.
Mayne: Don’t rob me of my dreams Dan.
Kelly steps back, breathing hard at this point and then going into a cartwheel across the canvas before transitioning into a back flip moonsault right across Robin’s already banged up mid-section. He now falls forward into the cover, quickly hooking her leg and burying his forearm into her face.
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Again the X-Class Champion kicks out emphatically, increasing the anger in Hart who refuses to believe this. He stands up and begins to stomp away at her ribs repeatedly, then doing the same to her face, trying to keep her on the canvas as much as possible. Another inventive spot pops into his head as he steps around her legs, lifting them into the air then tying them around his own leg, applying a modified Inverted Indian Death Lock. With quickness he grabs her wrists, pulling her up onto her seat then placing his foot to her face, pushing her down into a reverse curb stomp, Brooks back slamming against the ring. She arches her spine from the ring as Kelly steps to her side then flips forward into a senton splash across her ribs. After completing the move Hart leans back, hooking Robin’s leg and pushing himself up with his feet into a backwards bridge for the pin.
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Much to Hart’s shock his opponent powers her shoulder off the canvas once more, leaving him very dejected and questioning what it will take to finish her off here. He approaches her quickly and takes Brooks by the hair, sitting her up and then taking her around the jaw, sliding her in reverse over his knee. The Black Widow now finds herself stretched out over Kelly’s knee, with her kidney area arched over it. Now that he has her in this position Hart places his hand to her chin and her thigh, pushing down on both as he racks her over his knee, the X-Class Champion screaming in pain as a result. The official steps in, lowering down at her side and questioning Brooks as to rather she wishes to submit or not. A determined Robin shakes her head now, refusing to give into this incredible anguish flowing through her body as her back continues to be worked over in this modified torture rack. Kelly really pushes down on her jaw and her knee, attempting to hear those two words which will ensure he receives a future title shot against her, “I Quit.” However, no matter how much pain she is in she refuses to allow these words to emanate from between her lips.
Mayne: Come on Robin, we all know women have inferior, weaker backs so you have to be in excruciating pain right now. I know this about women because every one of my high-school dates would come down with back injuries before we were suppose to go out.
Douglas: You were a very lonely teenager weren’t you?
The pugnacious Hart continues to push down on both halves of Brooks’ body, continuing to rack her back over his knee. A determined X-Class Champion refuses to relent to the pain though, lifting her knee up into the air and driving it into the side of Kelly’s face. She then delivers another knee strike before connecting with a full on shin kick right to his temple, forcing him to break the submission hold but then alter it up into another attempted move. He wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her up into the air off his knees then pulling her up into position for a tombstone only to have Brooks swing out of it, wrapping her legs around his neck and pulling him over into a head scissors. Kelly flips forward, crashing onto the canvas back first as Robin turns over onto her elbows and knees, rising to a standing base with tremendous quickness. Right when her feet are planted to the canvas, Kelly rushes across the ring, driving his shoulder into her ribs then powering her backwards spine first directly into the turnbuckle. All the air is knocked out of her lungs as her arms tumble over the cables and thus keep her upright, Kelly backing up then charging forward once again. This time he walks right into the boots of Brooks, sending him staggering backwards, knocked a bit loopy as a result of the shots to his skull.
Kelly flails his arms to keep himself upright while his opponent tries to capitalize on this moment, pulling herself up the turnbuckle backwards and standing on the second rope. She now dives off into a crossbody only for Hart to drop to his knee, causing Robin to come down ribs first directly into. A wail of anguish shifts through Robin’s teeth as Hart stands up at her side, wrapping his arms around her waist then lifting her up into the air, draping her back over his shoulder before dropping to his seat. The crowd reacts with shock at the sight of the modified back breaker over his shoulder, Robin bouncing off then twisting as she crashes into the canvas face and sternum first. Hart turns, grabbing Brooks by the shoulder then pushing her over onto her back, crawling into the cover once again.
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Somehow Robin still has enough left in her to kick out once more, leaving Kelly exasperated as well as shocked. The Second City Saints member stands up and storms towards the referee, protesting the speed of his count with every fiber of his being. The official ensures Kelly that the speed of his count was not suspect at all and implores him to keep wrestling this match. A flustered Hart turns towards Brooks who is rolling towards the ropes, using them try and force her body upwards. Just as she stands up albeit hunched forward, Hart charges in and delivers a vicious running front dropkick directly to the side of her cranium. The kick echoes throughout the arena and sends her spilling through the ropes, bouncing off the apron the twisting as she spills to the outside mats. All the while Hart rolls over backwards right onto his feet, stepping towards the cables and taking hold of the top rope. He waits for Brooks to stand, and just as she does, Kelly pulls himself over the top rope into a crossbody only to have her step out of the way in the nick of time. This causes Hart to crash face and chest first directly into the outside mats with great impact, the crowd covering their mouths in shock over just how hard his body struck the outside of the ring. Again operating on instinct Kelly stands up, placing his palm over his mouth then turning towards the ring, unaware Brooks is standing up inside of it behind the ropes. She grabs the top one and sluggishly pulls herself over it, twisting as she lands directly on top of Hart’s shoulders then falls back, flipping him over into a hurricarana.
Douglas: What an agile move from Brooks, finally answering back in this match against Hart!
Mayne: Come on Kelly, just because your little it doesn’t mean you have to go for all these stupid high flying moves, you just opened the freaking door for Brooks now.
Brooks rolls to her elbows and knees, sweating as she pulls herself up onto the apron. She stands up straight with Hart trying to force himself to his feet below her. In pain he reaches a standing base, turning towards Brooks who rushes across the apron, diving off as she splits her legs, coming down with a seated senton right onto his chest. Kelly’s legs are taken out from under him as he crashes onto the mats back first, Robin landing on top of his chest then standing up with a scream. The crowd rallies behind her while a shocked Hart tries to force himself to his feet but is having far too much trouble doing so after this aerial barrage. The now fired up Black Widow turns back towards Hart as he struggles to his feet, quickly charging at him only to have Kelly bend forward, catching her thighs against his palms then throwing her over his head towards the ring. Brooks shows her agility by twisting as she lands feet first on the apron, Kelly turning towards her right as she jumps onto the second rope, springing off then flipping through the air, coming down right on top of his shoulder with a gigantic moonsault. The fans are left breathless by that last beautiful, stunning moonsault which sends both athletes crashing to the mats. Robin rolls away from the down Hart, covering her ribs with her arms in the process.
Douglas: What a breathtaking moonsault from Robin, taking flight from the second rope and coming down right on top of Hart.
Mayne: She did look like a robin just now, the only thing she needed was the fruity green leotards and the conspicuous black mask over the eyes.
Dan: I swear, there is no limit to the stupid dialogue that originates from your mouth.
The crowd is screaming as the Black Widow rises to her feet, taking hold of Kelly’s hair and forcing him to his feet before dragging him down face first into the apron. He bashes off violently while Brooks uses all of her strength to roll him into the ring, all the while gripping at her ribs in tremendous pain. A battered Kelly rolls towards the center of the ring getting to his elbows and knees then trying to force his aching frame to his feet. After much duress he reaches his feet then turns to face Robin who has climbed up onto the apron, taking hold of the top rope and springing up onto it. She takes flight, soaring gracefully through the air once again when Kelly jumps into the air, meeting her to the ribs with a vicious dropkick. The crowd reacts with shock, cupping their mouths as an audible groan comes from Brooks who spills onto her spine, wrapping her arms around her mid-section. A tired Hart rises to his feet slowly, his legs very wobbly beneath him, wavering back and forth and then stepping towards Robin’s legs. He grabs hold of both of them, tying them around each other then lifting them into the air as he steps over top of Brooks’ back, now trapping her in the Texas Cloverleaf. Brooks pushes herself up onto her elbows, roaring in anguish as she finds herself trapped in this seemingly inescapable cloverleaf submission. Hart sits down on her lower back to add further emphasis to this submission, hoping he’s done a good enough job on her mid-section to ensure his victory.
Mayne: Hahahaha, Brooks’ offensive flurry is shut down by Hart, who has put a definite stop to all those high flying, flippidy dippidy moves.
Douglas: Indeed, and now he’s got her trapped in the cloverleaf, sitting down on her back in the process to add more anguish to the hold.
Mayne: You know, she could have internal bleeding, even more than most woman do.
Dan: Women don’t walk around bleeding all day Dan. Your sex ed counselor should be shot.
Billy: I didn’t take sex ed in highschool, I took home ec.
The fans are on their feet, screaming and rallying in support for the lovely Robin who’s life is being drained from her body, all her energy beginning to fade rapidly. Somehow she’s still fighting though, attempting to struggle free from this cloverleaf while her eyes remain focused on the cables, realizing they may be her only means of salivation at this point. Therefore she digs her fingers into the canvas, beginning to force her tired, ailing, aching body in their direction, dragging an enraged Hart along on top of her. Suddenly Kelly decides to change things up, stepping off from Robin’s back then rolling her over onto her spine while clutching her legs under his armpits. He quickly drops back, catapulting Robin in the direction of the nearest turnbuckle. Somehow Brooks has the wherewithal to counter by landing feet first on the second rope in an ever so agile manner. A miffed Hart comes rushing in when The X-Class Champion flips over backwards, flying over top of his head with a moonsault then landing directly on her feet behind his back. She staggers a little, grabbing at her banged up ribs while Kelly turns his side towards her then steps out of the corner for a superkick. His foot almost connects directly with her face only to have Robin catch it, wrapping her hands around his ankle and preventing the strike to her jaw.
She shows the knowledge to push down on the leg, sending Kelly around into a circle before he steps up Robin and at the end of his twist, connecting with an enzugari to the back of her skull. The crowd groans at the sound of the stiff impact as Robin is sent staggering forward into the ropes, bending her head forward and hitting the second rope. To everyone’s shock the momentum sends her into an upwards flip, ending up seated on the top rope as a result. Kelly looks up, bewildered as to how she got there but now quickly steps in, reaching up and taking Robin by the shoulder, pulling down on it. This leaves her in a prone, hanging position, finding herself trapped in the tree of woe while Kelly backs away slowly, preparing for something truly brutal. Even while exhausted he comes barreling in, jumping forward with a shoulder aimed directly at her mid-section only for Brooks to sit up at the last second. As a result, Kelly flies through the corner and connects shoulder first with the exposed turnbuckle post, groaning loudly as a result while Brooks falls in reverse now, dropping into a roll over his spine, then twisting as she catches the back of his pants. Hart is pulled out of the corner into a school boy.
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Hart gets his shoulder up in the nick of time, rolling over backwards onto his knees with Robin standing up in front of him. She steps in with a kick aimed directly at his skull only for Kelly to duck under it, causing her to go into a full spin with her back aimed in his direction at this point. Hart now grabs her by the shoulders and jumps into the air, trying to land on top of them in order to hit a reverse hurricarana perhaps. Instead Brooks steps in reverse though, causing Hart to jump over her, landing on his feet directly in front of the Black Widow, who moves forward suddenly with a kick to the back of his knee. Hart is sent crashing onto his back with Robin jumping into the air, hitting a standing moonsault right on top of him, hooking his leg with quickness.
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To the shock of the fans Kelly shoots his shoulder off the canvas, turning away from a stunned, increasingly tired Robin. She rolls away from Kelly, her arms over her battered, busted ribs and her mind debating what she should do next.
Douglas: And Kelly kicked out after a tremendous series of counters. You’ll only see this type of X-Class action here in the IWC!
Mayne: Or any other federation on the planet, but never in the main event, because small people can’t wrestle according to main stream wrestling, and everyone would rather hear “Hey Yo,” than watch a thrilling singles bout. I sure as hell know I would like to watch geriatrics with shotty knees putting on passable performances instead of being forced to endure this type of action.
Douglas: Is your first name really Vince, Billy?
Billy: No, it’s Willie… I really hope I didn’t just say that out loud.
The fans are still putting their hands together after all this incredible action between the X-Class Champion and one of the top challengers for her title. Both competitors sluggishly rise to their feet, finding themselves back at square one as Hart gets up to his knees, Brooks stepping in with a swift kick to the back of his head. Hart reaches for the back of his noggin as Robin steps in front of him, spinning around and planting her foot stiffly directly into his face. The sheer impact is stiff enough to render Hart unconscious, knocking him onto his back while Robin turns, falling into the cover on top of him.
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Hart gets his shoulder up once more, sending the fans into a mixed reaction, Brooks sitting up with a twisted expression on her exhausted features. Her chest heaves in exasperation yet she slowly forces her sweaty frame to her feet, turning towards Hart who is once again rolling across the cables in the direction of the ropes. He begins to force himself to a standing base with the help of the ropes when Brooks comes charging in only for Hart to turn, catching her against the chest and the front of the thigh, throwing her up high into the air. Brooks catches tremendous height before coming down ribs first right onto the top rope, the crowd groaning as her mid-section connects with the cables. She immediately bounces off, being sent flipping over backwards and crashing into the canvas, rolling over in reverse onto her knees. Her arms are gripping at her battered mid-section as she slowly forces her legs beneath her, glaring in the direction of the Sensation of Innovation who comes rushing in quickly. The cunning Brooks bends forward though, catching him against his shoulder and sending him flipping over top of her with a back drop. However, much to her dismay he flips right over onto his feet and rushes at the turnbuckle behind her back, stepping up it then jumping off the top rope. Kelly goes into a whisper in the wind, twisting as he crashes back first right into her shoulder, both athletes tumbling to the ring. Hart comes down on top of her and now turns, crawling into the cover, hooking her leg desperately.
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To the disbelief of everyone Robin kicks out yet again, shooting her shoulder from the canvas and turning away from an outraged Second City Saint. He rolls to his knees, sweat dripping from every inch of his frame due to the length and fast pace of this contest.
Douglas: The Wind in the Willows not enough to finish off Brooks….
Mayne: What will be? You can tell just by the size of her massive, manly arms, and her flat chest that she’s been injecting them there roids.
The increasingly tired Hart rises to his feet and takes hold of Brooks’ hair, dragging her up to her feet then pulling her forward ribs first directly into his knee. Kelly turns and rushes into the cables at her side, bouncing off the ropes then coming back in with the quickness of a jungle cat. As soon as he steps towards her he jumps into the air, going for the scissor’s kick only for Brooks to step back out of the way in the nick of time. As soon as Hart lands on his feet Brooks steps up behind him and turns her back towards him, grabbing both of his arms then dragging him over in reverse right into a back slide pin. The crowd is screaming, thinking that Robin may have it here.
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Hart kicks out, rolling over backwards onto his knees then immediately locking on a front chancery. He forces Brooks up to her feet then scoops her up into the air onto his shoulder, setting up for a Michinoku Driver. Kelly takes her by the back of the head and pulls her down forward off his shoulder as he tries to drive the back of her cranium into the canvas. However, Robin flips forward out of the driver position, landing on her feet with her back aimed towards a stunned Kelly who charges forward only to have Brooks jump into the air, twisting so that she’s upside down. Brooks catches Kelly under the arms and rolls forward, pulling Hart down with her, sitting down on top of his chest and grabbing the backs of his knees, holding down on them with the fans screaming loudly once again.
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No! Somehow Kelly got his shoulder off the canvas again, the crowd reacting after another nearfall in this insanely close one on one confrontation between these two. They both sit up exhausted, breathing heavily with sweat racing down their battered frames. The crowd is all standing, putting their hands together after what has been an utterly fantastic match between these two high flying, agile X-Class athletes. A sweaty Robin Brooks is sitting on the canvas with her eyes cutting to her X-Class title belt still strewn across the canvas where she originally dropped it. On sheer delirium alone she reaches out, taking the belt and placing it close to her chest. She’s almost too drained to even realize what she’s doing as Kelly rolls to his side, attempting to get up and continue this match.
Douglas: What a main event to cap off what has been one of the craziest nights in the history of this company. After the debut of Scott Gray-Harris, Orlando Cruze and Nathan Creed playing tricks with our phone system, new Tag Team Champions, Magnus being stapled in the eyes by Desolation, and a wild brawl backstage in that cage, we end tonight’s telecast with one of the finest, straight up performances I’ve seen in a while. And this thing is still going!
Mayne: I know she’s got a lot of turmoil going on right now in terms of her relationship with the World Champion and the fact that she is facing her ex at the pay-per-view, but I really hate to see her even mildly happy, so please Kelly, beat her already. It just makes me feel all funny and stuff.
Dan: That is odd, because usually your never funny.
Mayne: Oh hardy har, har….wait!
The crowd is stunned as Psycho steps into the camera’s frame out of nowhere, driving the bottom of his boot directly into Robin’s skull. The blunt force of the impact knocks Brooks out on impact, causing her to drop the X-Class title belt in her highly exhausted state. Many of the fans begin to jump all over Psycho’s case, while others cheer, supporting what he’s doing to the woman who screwed him out of a victory several months ago. Nevertheless they are all equally as outraged by the fact that he’s interfering in what was thus far a very stellar one on one match. The official has no other alternative but to turn and call for the bell. Unfortunately right as he turns back towards Psycho he’s met with an insanely stiff kick right to the testicles. The official cups his jewels and falls to the canvas, rolling around and roaring in anguish. Psycho steps forward, placing his hands on his knees and staring down at Brooks with a very, very twisted glint in his eyes, spotting Kelly Hart standing up from the corner of one of them. He quickly steps towards Hart, booting him to the gut then taking him by the back of the head and rushing him towards the ropes, throwing him through them to the outside of the ring with the bell still chiming away loudly in the background.
Mayne: Just like an answer to my prayers, Psycho has come out here, assaulting Brooks.
Douglas: What the hell is this for? I thought he promised Killjoy he’d leave Robin to him at Extinction! Stop this Psycho, remember what Killjoy warned you about. And just when I thought we were going to have a straight up match, Psycho comes in and ruins it by getting Kelly Hart disqualified!
The trembling, burnt features of Psycho remain locked on the out cold Brooks, who is struggling to regain her senses. She has no chance to do it however as Psycho turns, approaching the ropes and slipping through them onto the apron. He drops onto the mats with a look in his eyes that implies that he has no idea what he’s even doing right now. It’s almost as if he’s inflicting this punishment on Robin Brooks based on instinct alone. He throws the tarp hanging from the ring apron into the air then reaches under the squared circle, grabbing hold of a table. The fans are screaming as he now drags it out from under the ring, glaring at it stoically, with little to no emotion present behind his eyes. He lifts the table into the air, placing it on the apron then sliding it under the ring with the referee shouting at him, imploring him to stop this.
Mayne: And Psycho must be like Clarence from “It’s a Wonderful Life” because he really is answering every one of my fondest desires right now.
Douglas: No, Psycho, stop this, don’t use that table, remember what you promised, remember what you promised!
A deranged Psycho slides under the ropes, grabbing the table and slowly lifting it into the air, setting it up directly under the turnbuckle. He gets it perfectly positioned, slapping his palms across the wooden surface then turning his trembling features towards Robin who has somehow gotten back to her feet. She slugs Psycho to the jaw then kicks him to the gut, before punching him to the temple again and again, backing him towards the table. The fans are screaming, rallying in support for Robin as she jabs him to the jaw repeatedly. With her rival reeling she turns and bolts across the ring straight into the ropes, bouncing off of them and getting a running start to take him down when Psycho rushes forward, hitting her with an extremely stiff lariat right under the jaw. Brooks flips over backwards and crashes down on top of her face as a result of the clothesline. The crowd screams in shock as she bounces off the ring then rolls onto her back, left lying there motionless. He now hesitates no longer, stepping towards her and taking the exhausted Robin by the hair, forcing her up to her feet then backing towards the turnbuckle, moving around the table. Robin falls to her knees but is forced right back to her feet as Psycho begins to climb the corner in reverse, reaching the top rope, which he plants his seat upon.
Douglas: Oh no, oh no, somebody get out here and stop this before it’s too late!
Mayne: Who, who’s going to stop it? Killjoy was ejected from the building by Sallie, and Hurse left, there’s no one remaining to save Brooks.
Dan: Dammit your right, come to your senses Psycho, come to your senses.
Psycho reaches down, wrapping his arms around Robin’s waist then lifting her up into the air, loading her on top of his shoulders. She remains unconscious until her eyes flutter open just long to realize she’s flying through the air as Psycho powerbombs her from the top rope right through the table. The wood shatters into pieces around her body, leaving her lying there on the canvas motionless and broken. The fans react with shock and disgust as Psycho towers over her brutalized body, which shows only the slightest indications of life.
Dan: NOOOOO!! Psycho just powerbombed her right through the table!!
Mayne: Yes, yes, that was awesome!
The still emotionless Psycho stares down upon her, as she lies amongst the broken chunks of wood, her body a twisted wreck. The sight of her in this condition brings him only the slightest solace as he approaches the X-Class title belt lying on the canvas, scooping it up into the air then throwing it over his shoulder.
Douglas: And now he’s taking her X-Class title again!
Mayne: He took it from Robin, Savior took it from him, she took it back, and now he’s taking it again. Hahahaha, this is so wonderfully twisted you’d think it have to be artery clogging.
A shaking Psycho steps towards Robin bending down over her and holding the X-Class title just a few inches removed from her still closed eyes, as if she can see it. Nevertheless he buries the gold plate against her cheek and pushes on her head slightly then stands back up, his eyes blinking awkwardly, as if he just snapped out of something. A look of shock fills his face as he steps back, glaring down at Robin and acting surprised over what he just did. His twisted, disturbed, and astonished eyes turn slowly towards the camera, which is zoomed in on his face.
Psycho: I’m sorry Killjoy, I’m sorry!! I just couldn’t help myself!!
After completing this statement, this expression of remorse he falls to his seat beside Robin, coveting the X-Class title belt as she shakes back and forth. He mumbles almost incoherently under his breath.
Psycho: I can’t change who I am, I couldn’t fight my urges, I couldn’t fight my urges, I couldn’t fight my urges….
He continues to repeat this statement with his hair hanging in front of his twisted features, rubbing the gold plate of the X-Class title and seated beside the women he just powerbombed through the table.
FADE TO BLACK