Welcome to FWrestling.com!

You've come to the longest running fantasy wrestling website. Since 1994, we've been hosting top quality fantasy wrestling and e-wrestling content.

AGGRESSION 36: Charlotte, North Carolina - 6/12/08

Not open for further replies.


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
[Backstage @ EPW Presents: Black Dawn. The Aftermath.]


[A heavily heated 'Stalker' Jason Reeves heaves a trash can across the room, as he paces back-and-forth. Black Dawn had been off of the air for more than an hour, the arena was empty, and as a result of the main event, it was safe to say, that at EPW's signature event sent them home happy. Sitting silently on their private dressing room's couch, drenched in a mixture of blood, sweat and melancholy was – the now – former EPW World Heavyweight Champion Sean 'Triple X' Stevens, who was still in a state of shock, awe, disbelief and dehydration.]

STALKER: You wait! You MOTHERF*CKERS wait! You want violence?” He asked no one in particular. “You want to see a new level of destruction?! You want HARDCORE!! YOU –“

STEVENS: -- I killed him, Jason. I did everything in my power to destroy that man, and he ... Just ... Wouldn't ... Quit. He should be dead. I killed him...

STALKER[Ignoring Stevens]: I'M GOING TO KILL HIM!!

[The deranged lunatic tossed a chair into a glass mirror shattering it.]

STALKER: Then I'm going to dump Ice Tre's body in the river!

STEVENS[Breathing hard]: Do you feel it, Jason? Huh? The change? The shift in power? The evolution?

[The former champion threw his face into his hands.]

STEVENS: It's over, Reeves. ...It's over. For you. Me. The EPW title. He won.

[Suddenly, Jason Reeves ran in Sean's direction grabbing him by the collar. Under normal circumstances, anybody committing this act would be in for a severe ass kicking. On this day? The fallen warrior just stood there, a shell of his former self.

Reeves slapped the 'blue-eyed badass' in his already bloodied face. Still, no response. Suddenly, he slapped him again, this time getting a reaction as Triple X snapped his head in his direction.]

STALKER: MOTHERF*CKER! Do you know who YOU are? You are the 2007 Wrestler of the Year! The f*cking KING OF THE CAGE! Do you know who you've beaten!! And, you're just going to quit?!!?

[He went to slap him a third time, but Trip caught his hand.]

STEVENS: Jason ... I'm going to say this one time and one time only. Get the F*CK off of me!

[Jason lets go picking up a shattered piece of mirror on the ground shoving it in Trip's face. ]

STALKER: That's not the face of a man who's been defeated. That's the face of a man who has just begun his fight. This is the start Stevens.. NOT THE END.

[Stevens brushed Reeves aside and made a play for the door.]


[The door slammed, as the 'blue-eyed badass' left the enraged Jason Reeves alone in their dressing room. On the opposite side of the door, Stevens leaned against a wall, still in disbelief.]

STEVENS[mumbling]: You're wrong, Stalker. The war is over. It was over before it ever started.



Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Fun with the Daymons - Oh, and Jason Reeves too

[House lights go to black, and then...]

[“DEATH IS THIS COMMUNION” by High On Fire pulsates in aggressive tribal rhythms over the PA. TREMENDOUS POP from the fans! Red and blue lights flicker through the arena as the spotlights pan to the stage. Emerging from the entry-way is Caitlyn Daymon with a microphone in her hand.]

CDaymon: Ladies and gentlemen... coming to you from the CITY OF DESTINY, Tacoma, Washington... allow me to introduce your EMPIRE PRO WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION...

The Legend...

The Myth...

The MAN...


[A cheer SWELLS from the audience as the champion ROCKO DAYMON steps out onto the stage, clad in blue jeans and the new 100% cotton brick red “The Legend, The Myth, The MAN” t-shirt. Over his shoulder is the prestigious EPW WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT TITLE. With a smile on his face, he nods to his wife and manager who bows and exits through the entry-way. Daymon moves to center stage, pumps a fist into the air, and...]


[...soaks up the ensuing pop that comes as a result of the two mushroom cloud pyros exploding on either side. Lingering a moment, he boldly makes his way to the ring.]

DT: A REMARKABLE entrance for the NEW World Heavyweight Champion ROCKO DAYMON, fresh off his monumental victory at BLACK DAWN, a dream and ambition of four hard years!

MN: Whoopidee-DOO!! Let's just hope he doesn't BLOW it after begging for it this entire time!

DM: Rocko overcame a TREMENDOUS challenge in the former champion “TRIPLE X” Sean Stevens! It still amazes ME how he's persevered through all the doubt and accomplished just what he said he would do.

DT: Definitely a win considered to be one of the greatest in his career... but now the new champion faces an open road, and many forthcoming enemies...

MN: Heh heh, I know who you're talking about!

[Daymon has a mic in hand as he ascends the steel steps and climbs the nearest turnbuckle, proudly thrusting a fist into the air as the music reaches its chorus. Fireworks explode over the ring as he holds his stature over the screaming fans in attendance, and drops into the ring as the lights come up and music cuts out. The World Title drops into his hand as he walks to the center of the ring, holding the mic up to his mouth...]

Daymon: ...so you people want to know what a ***** is?


Daymon: Well look no further than the pretty-boy crying his eyes out in front of a mirror right now in the room back there with “Sean Stevens” written on the door! The BOY who used to talk all that crap... and was forced to eat it all back! The BOY who had that stupid smirk slapped right off his face by the hand of a MAN!!

THAT, my friends, is a *****!!

[ANOTHER big pop from the fans!]

DM: Still seems a little steamed...

MN: Yeah, whatever, he's just denying the torment Sean Stevens put on him for so many months!

[Daymon waits for the din to subside before continuing.]

Daymon: But *****ES are for the past, fans... and to be frank, I want NOTHING to do with them from here on out! I mean, I'd LOVE to stand here and say I'm looking on to future challenges... against guys with chops like JA and KIN HIROSHI...

[BIG reaction from the fans.]

Daymon: ...but I can't really say I'm looking FORWARD to that, in honest confidence, knowing this TAINT on my mind in the form of one man who's been biting at my ankles like a PEST for the past year...



[OVERWHELMING BOOS from the fans. Daymon's expression is now completely serious... borderline enraged.]

Daymon: Jason... I'm not wasting one word on you unless it was said right in your face. So do me a favor and GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE before I go back there and DRAG YOU OUT myself!

[More JEERS from the fans as “I Did My Time” hits the PA. Stalker's video package plays on the EmpireTron as the spotlights go to the entrance, and everybody waits for him to appear. Several moments go by and nobody emerges.]

DT: Is he coming?

DM: Probably afraid of that thing Rocko has called “talent.”

MN: BWAHAHAHAHA!! Rocko... TALENT... good one, Dean-O!

[Another few moments go by before there's movement at ringside. Daymon spins around as a grinning STALKER comes to his feet, having slipped in from the audience. Both men stand their ground as a tense staredown ensues. Stalker already has a mic in his hand as he cues for his music to end and begins to speak to Rocko directly.]

Stalker: Well Rocko, ol' buddy, ol' pal... allow me to be the FIRST man from the Empire Pro locker room to congratulate you on your win!! Really gotta say, that BELT looks nice on ya--

Daymon: Cut the crap, Jason...

[With a grin, Stalker lowers the mic and crosses his arms.]

Daymon: This title represents a YEAR of climbing tooth and nail from the bottom of this federation to the top! In that same year, you came, you talked a lot of ****, you threw yourself off a couple high things, and otherwise did JACK! That whole time, you kept dropping my name, bringing up events that only DINOSAURS remember, and riding my ASS every step of the way.

Then... on the last Aggression, holding my WIFE under a blade... you have the balls to ask for a shot at me.

[Stalker can only chuckle as he recalls this memory. The fans BOO.]

Daymon: I suppose NOW that I'm the World Heavyweight Champion—no thanks to YOU—you want a shot at this TITLE... am I right?

Stalker: Heh heh... well, Rocko, now that you mention it, the added flavor of having that belt up for grabs doesn't sound half bad!

Daymon: ...

Well it ain't gonna happen, Stalker.

[CHEERS from the fans as Stalker's grin turns into a grimace.]

Daymon: You think I'm AFRAID of you? I proved at Black Dawn even with you trying to SCREW ME OVER, I CAN prevail! You can KEEP ON nagging at my heels match after match, for all I care, cause as long as you NEVER fight me, I'll take satisfaction knowing you can NEVER get what you've been waiting for all these years!

You'll NEVER GET IT, Stalker!


And if you got anything more to say about it, I'd suggest you SAY IT NOW, and then GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE.

[Daymon holds down the mic and stands CONFIDENTLY to Stalker, inches from his face, and the crowd CHEERS around them! Stalker returns the stare for several moments before raising his own mic.]

Stalker: You think... a few SCREWJOBS is all you have to be afraid of, Rocko?

You think trying to cost you a match is ALL I'm capable of? OH HO, Rocko... I thought you knew me better than that! Any minute of your life, Rocko... ANY MINUTE OF YOUR POINTLESS, INSIGNIFICANT LIFE... I could just as easily leave you PARALYZED, a crippled WASTE OF SPACE!! Just LIKE THAT!!

MN: Now we're going to get sued by the handicapped...

...YOU DOUBT ME, HUH?! Okay, Rocko... okay... I'll SHOW YOU what I'm capable of tonight! Mark my words, Rocko, you're going to WISH YOU HADN'T PISSED ME OFF!! And to think that all you had to do was just give me my fair REMATCH and take your ass-kicking like a man!

Well, that's just fine, cause I'M SICK OF YOUR FACE, Rocko!!


[A deafening BUMP blasts through the arena as Stalker DROPS the mic in anger and rolls over the ropes to the outside. His expression is completely reserved anger as he hops the barricade and makes his way back through the crowd. Daymon stands alone in the ring watching after him, continuing to hold the title over his shoulder. “Death Is This Communion” comes over the PA once again.]

DM: “Tonight, his career is over!” Straight from the horse's mouth, the horse being STALKER!

DT: A BOLD claim, but... knowing how conniving and sneaky Stalker can be, one can't help but think he's got something big in store tonight!

DM: I don't understand how he's going to end Rocko's career. Daymon isn't scheduled to compete tonight, and he'll be returning to his hotel after this interview tonight.

DT: Regardless, we're about to get into our opening matches here tonight. But I'm sure we haven't seen the last of Stalker before this show is through...

[Camera shows referee Carlos Gomez speaking with some other EPW employees backstage. Screams suddenly fill the area as something goes crashing down in the background. Gomez turns his head to see Jason Reeves storming at him.]

Gomez: Get away from me!

[Gomez yells at Jason and begins running away from him, Jason calmly walks after him as Gomez keeps looking over his shoulder before crashing into none other then Dan Ryan. Gomez quickly hides behind him and peeks at the incoming Jason.]

Stalker: You can't keep hiding from me, Gomez!

Gomez: It wasn't my fault, Tre escaped the cage before you did, he won the match, I AM SORRY!

Ryan: Whoa.. whoa. Jason what the hell you think you are doing here?

Stalker: I told you I was going to get my hands on that puny rat.

Ryan: It's not happening, not while I am here.

Stalker: Yeah well that won't be forever now will it?

[Jason smirks at Dan and Carlos then walks away as Carlos continues to cower behind Ryan's back.]

Ryan: I'm not going to be able to protect you forever, Gomez. You need to find someone to get your back and FAST.

[The Camera switches back to Jason Reeves walking down the hallway towards a closed room. Mojo Massey is standing in front of it with a frown on his face.]

Mojo: So..... Stalker. Why'd you call me here tonight?

Stalker: Got something I wanna get off my chest is all. Come on in.

[Jason opens the door to a dimly lit locker room, a tv on a stand is in the middle of the room. Jason walks over to it and presses play on the DVD player.]

Mojo: What's this?

Stalker: Just a little something I wanted to get off my chest.

[The camera zooms in to the television to show it playing the home made recording of a house. It's a really big, rich house. Nothing special..... until it shows Rocko Daymon exiting the front door and heading down the lawn to grab the morning paper.]

Mojo: What the hell is this?

Stalker: Just shut up and keep watching!

[After a few more moments of Rocko footage of in front of the house, it switches to a night time shot. This time, much closer, showing the Daymon family getting ready for supper, the kids setting the plates and Caitlyn bringing out the food. Rocko walks in to recieve hugs from his children and a kiss from his wife. They are all smiling, happy, loving.]

Stalker: That's what I could have had. But no, Rocko is just like all the rest of you, a bully. People tend to believe that I am of that persona. Tell the ****s in high school that.

Mojo: Uhhhhh....

[A few more shots are shown of the Daymon family watching television together in the family room, smiling, laughing enjoying one another. Now the camera switches to another shot, this one of a bedroom with Rocko Daymon lying on his bed. Caitlyn comes out of the bathroom with
nothing but a robe on and walks slowly over to Daymon's side of the bed. He looks up, she smiles at him as he sits up to kiss her. She pushes Daymon back down on the bed and begins to undo her robe, it drops halfway down showing the back and just as she's about to let go the camera feed cuts off.]

Stalker: You can catch the rest of the action at Caitlyngonewild.com. Now Mojo, what do you think of my filmmaking?

Mojo: Well...... Quite scary actually.

Stalker: Good, now get the hell out. And as for you Rocko, this is only a taste, only a small taste of what you will get for you continued ignorance of me. It's time you finally come face to face with me and do what's right. Lose to the better man!

[Camera switches back to a speechless Dean Matthews who's looking over Mike Neely's shoulder.]


MN: What? It's my job to know what's going on in Empire Pro.

DM: Geez, Neely….


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Turning it over, Here I go: Turn The Page

DT: Well folks, as most everyone knows…Dan Ryan has announced his retirement from professional wrestling, and tonight is planning on addressing the Empire Pro fans regarding this historic turn of events.

DM: Yeah Dave, I never thought I’d see the day but today is the start of a new era in the business – one without one of the greatest to ever lace em up.

[“Zero” by Smashing Pumpkins blares over the EPW speakers and the familiar video plays on the EmpireTron…..one last time….

The crowd goes ape**** as “The Ego Buster” Dan Ryan steps out onto the stage in full business attire and with one last piece of jewelry, the UNIFIED World Championship around his waist. He stares through sunglasses at the crowd with more smile than his usual smirk, the pyro reflecting off of the eyewear. Several groups of fans do the ol’ bowing down gesture as Ryan makes his way to the ring, climbs up onto the apron and swings his legs through.

Ryan climbs the turnbuckle and the place erupts again as he raises his arms, bringing the arena to life with a thousand pops of camera flash.

Ryan resumes a more neutral position in the middle of the ring and pulls out a wireless mic.]

Ryan: As you all know, I’ve recently announced my retirement from the wrestling ring. Some say I was forced out. But the truth is, I was ready. I’ve been ready for some time. It only took a couple of extra nudges. When you’re winning and defending four World Championships at the same time, it finally kicks in that hey….maybe there just isn’t that much left to do in this sport anyway….

[huge pop]

Ryan: Then you look to your family and realize there’s plenty left to do at home. I have a family that I look forward to spending lots of time with, a daughter I plan to be there for, and a wife I intend to keep my promises to.

Of course….where does that leave all of you? Where does that leave Empire Pro?

It’s true, part of my retirement means that I will no longer be on your televisions from week to week as your owner. The good news so to speak, is that I won’t be selling the company exactly. The company will remain in my name, or rather in the family name so that my children will reap the benefit of my hard work over time. In the meantime, it only seems suitable that another …..eminently qualified member of my family be brought on board to run the day to day operations of the company….

MN: Oh no….

DM: Your face just went pale, Mike?? What’s wrong??

[CUE-UP: "Yer Majesty" by Shinedown. The tune is unfamiliar to the EPW faithful; however, after an intro like the one Ryan just gave, does anyone in the arena not know who he's talking about?]


DM: I'd even say that she's returned to her Empire, Dave.

MN: Oh..oh God! I'm finished! FINISHED!

[But this isn't the same Lindsay Troy that everyone around here knew for so long. Gone is her long, curly hair. Gone is the color of smoldering wood on an open fire. In their place is a chopped cut a little above her shoulders, the color of blackened cherries. And in case you're wondering what the hell is going on with that...don't worry. Here, the reason's not important.

Now, you might be thinking Hillary Clinton has the market cornered on pantsuits for the "power" woman. Not so...that'd be Mz. T over here. She's rocking the all-black with the black-cherry shirt, pinstripes and pumps, with a trendy jacket that falls above her waist and hugs hazardous curves. The pant legs cling to her thighs, then spill downward into wide, wide leg. Troy stands up at the top of the ramp, duly noting the craziness from the fans that is spilling from their mouths, and starts to swagger down the ramp to the ring.]

DT: I--I am nearly at a loss for words here. The Dan Ryan Retirement Express has stopped in the company that he helped build from the ground up, and it's letting a big, big passenger off!

DM: Your words may not be the only thing that's lost. Neely might be out of a job now!

MN: Oh why? WHY didn't I have the forethought to see this coming? WHY GOD? WHY HAST THOU FORSAKEN ME?!

DM: And don't think she doesn't remember every little thing you've said about her. Thank God I play the impartial one in this trio.

[Troy's at the ring now, climbing up the steps, her eyes locked on her brother-in-law. Dan Ryan returns the smirk she's giving him, and he he walks over to the ring ropes to sit on the middle one, assisting the Queen as she walks back into her kingdom. She pats his shoulder, then slips easily into the ring. Dan stands up, and the two make their way to the center of the squared circle. Troy gives the sideways look to the entrance ramp, tilting her head slightly. That's the cue to cut the music, but that doesn't stop the crowd from still losing their ish.]

TROY: (after a moment) I bet you thought I forgot all about you kids.


[Troy nods her head, her smirk growing.]

TROY: The way I left is clearly not the same way I'm coming back. When I took my leave of the Empire last September, I did so quietly and seamlessly. I gave no big announcement. There was no article on the official website or on the official fansite. There was merely speculation, all around. And being such a staple to this place, I realize that I cheated the fans out of a reason back then. For that, I'm sorry.

DT: It's true, after Lindsay Troy dropped the World Title after a monstrous and unparalleled reign, she slipped very quietly out the back door. No explanation and no real goodbye.

MN: You say that like that's a bad thing.

DM: Why are you digging yourself into a bigger hole, Neely?

MN: Aw hell, I'm F-ed anyway. Might as well get the parting shots in while I can.

TROY: But anyone who's ever been a fan of mine for the long haul, and even those newcomers who were just climbing on the bandwagon, knew where to find me. Knew what I've been doing. And in all my other travels, EPW is still the place that I talk about most fondly. And how could I not? This place was the catalyst for my meteoric rise, all because that man...

[She points to Ryan. So what if it's not polite to point? The fans don't care.]

TROY: ...opted to buck convention and so-called better judgment and gave me a chance that everyone else was too chickens[BLEEP]t to give. He gave this world the middle finger and told me to go take what was mine and all it was worth. Not because we're related through marriage. Not because of a long-standing friendship. Because he knew I earned the right to take the big, gold ball and run with it. I have to repeat that because some people still don't want to recognize my reign for what it was, still want to knock it down. For two years I ran the tables in this place and if I had to, I'd do it all again, and I'd piss off even more people in the process.


TROY: But obviously, that's not what I'm here for. What I am here for is to answer the call for a favor. It was only fitting that the end of my title reign came at the same PPV where I first won it and the last thing I told Dan before I walked out the door was that if he ever needed me to return to the Empire, all he had to do was ask. Despite my other obligations, despite how many different directions I let myself be pulled in, all Dan ever had to do was say, "I need you back here" and I'd be here, saving questions for later, putting plots aside. And I suspect some of you back there won't be too happy about this. [SMIRK!] I don't have many friends left in this place, but if I'm in charge then I'm not your friend. I don't give a f[BLEEP] if we've ran the circuits together, if we've traveled the road together, sat next to each other on a plane. I am your boss, and there's little to NO ROOM for me to have friendships amongst my employees. The Ruler's back and kids...Danny went and made me an EMPRESS. Just wait and see how I'll rule.

DR: Now….before I go – there’s something else….someONE else I need to address to make all of this complete. As my final act….as operating owner of Empire Pro, I’d like to call Marcus Westcott…..BEAST….out to the ring….

[A few moments pass….]

DR: Come on out Marcus…..

[A few more moments pass, then Beast…still in street clothes, comes striding warily down the ramp. He gives an evil look to Lindsay Troy, who returns a stoic ‘who cares?’ look of her own. Finally, he rolls into the ring and leans against the turnbuckle.]

DR: Beast...for weeks now, I've been thinking of the best way to leave you…and EMPIRE PRO WRESTLING [loud pop!] a parting gift that will NEVER be forgotten.. For days, I dreamed, conceived…[RYAN shakes his head] I’ve had ideas in my head that I didn’t believe were there and don’t even want to admit right now.

[For a moment, RYAN looks down at the ground and the crowd murmurs in confusion. Slowly, his eyes rise and meet BEAST’s in the ring...]

DR: I couldn’t even find the answer, Marcus. The hatred I have clouds any semblance of judgment in determining the imprint I want you to REMEMBER as I walk out of here.

[RYAN pauses as the crowd gets louder, trying to get behind the man that’s led them to where this magical place is at the current moment. RYAN nods negatively, motioning for them to quiet down. As he does…his eyes meet LINDSAY TROY’s squarely.]

DR: There are things I’ve hidden from you, Lindz. I’m sorry. At the same time, with what I’m about to do, you are the ONLY one I trust.

MN: [v/o] Ok, I’m now getting creeped out…Ryan even looks nervous right now.

DT: [v/o] I’m not sure where or what Dan Ryan is segueing to, but I don’t think I’ve heard him speak in these types of terms before…

DM: [v/o] This…is taking on some dark overtones, I agree.

[CUT TO: TROY cocking an eyebrow at RYAN and about to say something, when he reverts his attention back to BEAST.]

DR: The truth is Marcus, I never did find the answer because I realized when I leave...then there's NOBODY in EPW that would come close to what I want because there's NOBODY here that feels about you...the way -I- do. Furthermore, this thing between you and Lindsay? It’s ancient history. No one cares anymore. She doesn’t care. She’s not interested. And nobody likes a re-run. And when I realized that, Marcus…the strangest sound chimed.

MN: Oooooook.

DR: It was my doorbell, Marcus. [RYAN laughs, almost in disbelief] The answer had arrived…’cause when I opened the door standing across from me was a man that’s put me through more physical hell than YOU ever could hope…without touching me.”

[RYAN starts laughing as if this waterfall of a revelation is a public admission of his own insanity.]

DR: A man I’ve HATED looked me straight in the eye and held out his hand, Marcus…

[RYAN has to wipe away a tear…he can’t believe it. CUT TO: BEAST looking confused at TROY, who can only shrug.]

DT: This is very strange, I’ve never seen him like this.

DM: Shh, I’ve got a feeling about this.

[CLOSE IN: RYAN collects himself, regaining his eye contact with BEAST and maintaining a confident smirk.]

DR: …he said, [RYAN quotes the air] DAN…I’ve put you through so much sh[BEEP!]t, bleeding your heart and soul dry to watch you become a legacy to MY dreams. If you’re gone for now, if you’re out…let ME…do that for YOU. [RYAN unquotes] Right there and then it hit me, Marcus. Everything I’ve hated about that man…as he looked me in the eye and said that, I knew as I always have that I RESPECTED HIM.”

[The crowd roars in approval.]

DR: I don’t know if I can say that about you, I didn’t know if I left if you’d ever understand what that MEANT. And that’s when I knew, Marcus…the PAIN of learning, the STRUGGLE of that education will be more than enough entertainment for me while I drink a cold one in my Lazy-Boy.

[More crowd roars, RYAN waves them off without batting an eyelash during his staredown with BEAST, smirk intact.

DR: When I drop this microphone, Marcus…I will do so as a KING of this SPORT. [huge pop!] I leave my kingdom in a worthy QUEEN’s hands and on the night we announce the KINGS OF THE CAGE, I would like to let you know that you have been ENTERED INTO IT.

[Loud crowd shock!]

MN: What!?

DT: Dan Ryan just entered Beast into Kings of the Cage!

[BEAST starts shouting down at RYAN, but the Ego Buster isn’t fazed and doesn’t budge. Meanwhile, TROY has a look of large concern on her face…something about RYAN’S smile is disconcerting and too satisfied.]

DR: I will NOT leave this sport knowing one of my greatest enemies wasn’t WORTHY of being tied to MY name in my heart, and I will NOT leave this sport without knowing he didn’t face the same types of FIRES I was forced into during my career. A1E was BARELY part of my legacy.

[TROY has to slightly restrain BEAST from leaving the ring as RYAN’s eyes dance with glee.]

DR: I want you to join me, Marcus. I want you to stand ABOVE the names of your championships, the letters of your federations…I want to know you understand the GLORY and HELL of this sport like I did… and YOUR PARTNER in the KINGS OF THE CAGE…promised to do that for ME as I shook his hand. He said you’ll LEARN or your ego won’t even BUST…

[RYAN laughs]

DR: It’ll BURN.

[RYAN drops the mic. It’s OVER and before the crowd can scream—]


[Out of NOWHERE, a jetstream fire cannons out of the ringpost, while a bombardment of pyro explodes everywhere. BEAST and TROY duck down in a flinch as ‘SLEEP NOW IN THE FIRE’ – RATM explodes over the PA Speakers, the crowd looking at the Tron and freaking out as a single, gritty, bloody CRIMSON STAR keeps flashing repeatedly. CUT TO: TROY’s eyes looking at the Tron, hearing the music…and her eyes start BULGING like half-dollars!]

MN: What the hell is going on!?


DT: More fire just shot out of the ringposts, I’ve never heard this music…I don’t kn—WAIT! THERE’S SOMEONE SHADOWED BEHIND THE CURTAINS!

[CUT TO: The curtains part…and the CROWD LEAPS!]


MN: Oh.

DT: My.

DM: God.

[CUT TO: LINDSAY TROY swallowing a lump in her throat. BEAST, meanwhile squints…then turns to TROY and asks “Who is that?” TROY looks slowly back at BEAST in complete shock.]

DT: The…He…Devil…

MN: He’s already possessing Thomas!

[CUT TO: CRAIG MILES. More could be said, but it doesn’t matter right now. The trademark smirk, Newport Cigarette and silver sunglasses haven’t been left at home.]


[MILES flicks his cigarette starts taking a few steps, when all of a sudden he just starts SPRINTING and screaming like a wild hyena! Within seconds he’s sliding into the ring as LINDSAY TROY drags BEAST out as he’s still confused.]

DM: I don’t believe my eyes!

MN: This is completely out of nowhere! This is off the charts on what anyone could be expecting!

[CUT TO: Security rushing around the ring after TROY starts barking orders. She glares back at RYAN…]

LT: Do you know what you’re doing?

[RYAN smirks.]

[CUT TO: MILES sitting on the ropes and yelling for RYAN to get in the ring as the entire arena is in a standing ovation! RYAN enters the ring as TROY watches on cautiously, while MILES raises RYAN’ arm in the air in a half-bow…CUT TO: BEAST watches in confusion as security surrounds the proceedings with haste. . . . FADE.TO.BLACK.]


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
"Triple X" Sean Stevens vs. "Wicked Sight" Michael Plett

DT: Ladies and Gentlemen, our first contest of the evening comes as somewhat of a shock.

DM: Indeed. Usually, after an emotionally drained match, where you've given your all, only to come up short, and lose the EPW World Heavyweight Championship, of all things, you take the next night off. I'm not sure if 'Triple X' Sean Stevens is doing the wise thing by stepping into the ring so soon after such a devastating loss at the hands of Rocko Daymon, but I'm sure we'll find out.

MN: Of course he's doing the right thing! He's a machine, he's a warrior, and the uncrowned champion!

DM: Oh lord, he's starting early.

DT: Let's get to the ring...


TF: Ladies and Gentlemen, this next contest is scheduled for ... ONE FALL!

[Modest applause.]

TF: First, making his way to the ring, making his return to the ring for the first time in FIVE YEARS! He hails from SPOKANE, WASHINGTON! WELCOME BACK “WICKED SIGHT” MMMMIIIIIIIIKKKKKKEEEEEE PLLLEEEEEEETTTTTT!

[Plett walks down the aisle to applause from the audience.]

TF: And, his opponent...

[CUE UP: “Love Me or Hate Me,” by Lil Wayne.]


[The curtain opens as the former EPW World Heavyweight Champion steps through minus the hoopla of pyro, fireworks, or crowd participation. His hair is soaking wet, hanging below his shoulders, and he's wearing his brand new 100% cotton, “King of the Gladiators” t-shirt, with black tights.

As Sean approaches the ring, one fan in the front row successfully tosses a cup of coca cola and ice in the blue-eyed bad ass' direction, nailing him in the head, which immediately causes Triple X to grab the fan by the collar and attempt to break his neck.]

DT: What in the-- Somebody get security over there! A fan just launched his drink at Sean Stevens, and the former champ is livid!

DM: I agree. We need to stop this before it gets out of hand. We don't need any riots started because Sean can't keep his cool.

MN: Can't keep his cool? You're so biased against Triple X because he's something you still can't be, and that's a successful wrestler! But, more importantly, I wonder what Mike Plett is thinking? What a way to introduce him to Empire Pro Wrestling wouldn't ya say?

[Ten armed security guards intervene and break up the melee before it gets any worse, as Triple X slides into the ring, and immediately proceeds to flip off every fan in attendance, leaping on each turnbuckle for emphasis.]

DT: What a classless human being. And, he wonders why he gets no respect!

DM: And, he won't start getting any today... look at Mike Plett – who is standing behind him ready to charge!

DT: Triple X hops off the turnbuckle, turns around, and is met with a clothesline from hell!

[SFX: The bell rings signaling the official beginning of the match. ]

MN: Wait! How is the referee going to honor a cheap shot like that by starting the match?! Does he know that three weeks ago, Sean Stevens was the world champion? Does he UNDERSTAND that the man that he's trying to cheat is wrestling ROYALTY?!

DM: Do they know that you're on the Triple X payroll with all the promotion you're giving him?

MN[Looking nervous]: Uhh... No I'm not!

DT: Stevens is on his feet, he's a bit dazed, he's trying to get his feet under him, he staggers into a waiting Mike Plett... Bodyslam! And, Plett with the cover...

...ONE! Kickout!

DM: Plett's been gone for awhile, it'll take a LOT more than that to beat a man the caliber of Triple X.

MN: A king the caliber of Triple X.

DT: Both men are up, Plett sends Stevens to the ropes, the King of the Cage returns and is met with a picture perfect dropkick! Wow! Plett doesn't seem to be showing any signs of rust!

DM: But, Stevens on the other hand hasn't seemed to fully recover from being caught off guard to begin this match. OR, from losing the EPW title to Rocko Daymon at Black Dawn.

MN: He's recovered. Black Dawn was a conspiracy. He'll get the title back if it's the last thing we do.

DM: “We?”

MN: I said: He...

DM: You said--

DT: -- Mike Plett is scaling the top ropes, Sean Stevens is up on his feet, Plett takes the leap of faith! Flying cross body block into a pin! NO! Stevens reverses it into a pin of his own!

... ONE! TWO! Plett kicks out at two-and-a-half!

DM: That was close. Stevens is a veteran, and Plett's going to have to understand that even when the former champ is on defense, it'll only take a second for him to become offensive.

DT: Both men on there feet, Sean staggers toward Plett, BACK BODY DROP TO THE OUTSIDE OF THE RING! I'm not sure that Wicked Sight knew they were that close to the ring ropes when he attempted the back body drop, but I think the Blue-Eyed Badass is hurt! Let's take a look at the replay!

[REPLAY: Stevens successfully reverses Plett's cross body block, rolling into his own pin that Plett kicks out of. As both men make it to there feet, Triple X staggers into Wicked Sight, who back body drops him HIGH into the air, and outside of the ring. Stevens doesn't even TOUCH the top rope.]

MN: Ouch! Get up champ! I think he dislocated his shoulder!

DM: *coughs* mark!

MN: Who is Mark? My name is Mike.

DT: Stevens may be hurt, but Wicked Sight doesn't care, he's climbing the top ropes again, what is he about to-- SOMERSAULT! And, he CONNECTS! WOW!

DM: He did indeed connect, but I don't know how smart that was... both men are down, and the referee is beginning his count!


Wicked Sight begins to show signs of life.


Sight reaches for the apron only to fall back down.


Mike Plett pulls himself up and slides into the ring. Stevens on the other hand, still isn't moving.




DT: WICKED SIGHT exits the ring, causing the referee to start his count over! Wow! Why would he do that?! He had the match won!

DM: That could potentially be a mistake that ends up costing him. When you've got a guy like Sean Stevens down, you keep him down. Plett could be awaking a sleeping giant.

MN: I know what he's thinking. He feels disrespected because my guy Triple X wouldn't go along with his lies about them having a “feud”, because the 2007 King of the Cage wouldn't co-sign his return to wrestling, and now he foolishly wants to make his name by beating him decisively. He's stupid.

DT: Plett rolls Sean in the ring, and slides in after him.

[A large man from the crowd jumps the guardrails and slides into the ring, immediately hitting "Wicked Sight" Mike Plett from behind with a monstrous clothesline, dropping him to the canvas. The unknown figure is wearing a long black trench coat, with his long black hair dangling about his face. He quickly turns in the direction of "Triple X" Sean Stevens, who is still down, but does not attack.]

MN: Who is this?

DT: I can't believe it. I haven't seen him in the sport of professional wrestling in nearly six years. Its....

[Before Dave Thomas can finish his sentence, security rushes the ring and grabs the intruder, escorting him from the ring. As they are pulling him from the ring, he starts yelling towards Sean Stevens.]

Intruder: I need your help Sean. There's only two people in this world that I trust. I need your help now more than ever.

[Without a fight, EPW security removes the man from the ring and proceeds to escort him through the curtains.]

DT: Triple X is still struggling to get to his feet, he's using the ropes for support. Plett just getting up….... SUPERKICK OUT OF NOWHERE! WOW! WHERE DID THAT COME FROM?!

DM: Wicked Sight never saw it coming.

MN: I told you so!

DT: Both men hit the mat after the contact of the X-Factor super kick! Stevens is seems to be out of it, but he's the first man up. Plett has put up one hell of a fight, and for this to be his first match in five years, I'd say that his performance tonight pails in comparison to what we'll see once he gets more matches under his belt!

DM: But, with all of that being said, the former EPW World Heavyweight Champion is on his knees, like a snake waiting to attack, stalking him. Plett's trying to get his bearings about him, as he struggles to his feet. He's using the ropes for assistance... he's up... he turns around looking for Stevens... The EPW King of the Cage leaps to his feet and charges in with ANOTHER DEVESTATING X-FACTOR and “Wicked Sight” Mike Plett hits the mat like a ton of bricks.

MN: Game. Set. Match.

DT: Triple X is on his feet... he's standing over the fallen body of Wicked Sight. This has got to feel good to him after everything he's been through this past two weeks. Everything he went through TONIGHT! It's pretty much academic now... but, for some reason he's not dropping down for the cover.

DM: Sean Stevens signals for a microphone...

MN: Hey! Champ! I've got one!!

DM: Neely! Sit down!

[Mike Neely doesn't listen. Instead, he gets up from his seat, grabs the microphone on the announce table, and hands it to Sean – who's leaning over the top rope.

Before speaking, the 'Blue-Eyed Badass' looks around as the audience begins to boo hysterically. Wicked Sight begins to stir, slowly making it to his feet.]

DT: You are such a kiss up, Mike!

MN: What?! The man wanted to speak, I had a microphone ... Sue me!

DM: Folks, I don't know what's going on inside of that ring, or in the mind of Sean Stevens for that matter, but he had this match in the bag and opted not to pin his foe. Mike Plett's on his feet, slowly making his way to his opponent... ANOTHER SUPERKICK! And, he's down again!!

[Triple X pulls the microphone to his face, breathing heavily.]

TRIPLE X: Is THIS what you people wanted? To see me angry? Desperate? Pissed off? ... DEFEATED?

[Cheers erupt.]

TRIPLE X: You think this place is better off without me? Better off with blue collar bums like Daymon representing you as your champion? With people like this guy, who five years ago QUIT on you because he got hit with a two-by-four and it hurt?

[More cheers.]

TRIPLE X: Well, from the bottom of my heart, I want each and every one of you to know that I HATE you.

[Stevens dropped the microphone and exited the ring.]

DM: What is he doing? Stevens had this match won... he just left the ring and this match!

DT: Well, he'd better hurry up and make up his mind, because the referee has begun his ten count.

MN: You saw the clip from earlier tonight, gentlemen. He's done. Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope you recorded this moment, because this may very well have been Sean Stevens' breaking point. This may have been the last time we get to see Triple X in an Empire Pro Wrestling ring.

DM: And, if so? Good riddance! What is he going to do? Quit everytime he loses a match! Please! Sean Stevens is an arrogant, pompous, classless human being, and whenever the cards are stacked against him, he starts whining like a little primadonna. Well, if Sean Stevens doesn't want to BE in Empire Pro Wrestling? So BE it. Go back to the indies., young man.

MN: Ummm... you might want to be a little more impartial, Dean-o.

DT: No coffee this morning?

DM: No, I'm just sick of wrestlers walking around here like they're better than this place when they aren't! Look at him!

[Stevens makes it to the top of the ramp as the referee reaches ten, and counts him out, with his back to the entire audience, he raises his right hand in the air, and proceeds to flip everyone the bird. Before walking through the curtain and exiting.]

[SFX: Ding, Ding, Ding.]

TF: Ladies and Gentlemen, the winner of this match as a result of a COUNTOUT! “WICKED SIGHT” MMMMIIIIIIIIKKKKKKEEEEEE PPPPPPLLLLLLEEEEEEETTTTTTTTT!!!!!!

DM: A much deserved victory for a man that wants to be here! Bravo to that young man, Michael Plett.

MN: Give it a rest already.


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Devil in....NO dress


The booing of the crowd rang throughout the arena's halls as the 'Blue-Eyed Badass' Sean Stevens walked through the curtain, with his head sunken to the ground, not making any eye contact or conversation with anyone, only occasionally looking up when turning corners. After about a minute or so of walking he reached his destination – his dressing room – strangely noticing that the door was cracked open and the lights were turned off.

Slowly, Trip entered with his guards up.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Everybody knows you should never enter a room with the lights off,” said the mysteriously enchanting voice.

TRIPLE X: Does it matter anymore? I don't care what you're here for, or what you came to do to me. You want a free shot at taking me out the game? Go for it. I'm not in the mood to fight. You want my dressing room? Take it. Just let me get my bags then I'm out of your way.

“Oh...no, no, no. What I'm interested in is FAR more important than a silly fight, or territory, or even titles for that matter... Sean.”

TRIPLE X: What do you want? Money?

“The love of money is the root of all evil, Sean, and trust me, I know that one all to well. It's what's driven people like US to be the creatures that we are. But, it's not even monetary gain that brings me here tonight in this very dressing room.”

TRIPLE X[Sighing]: Then what is it?

“It's you, Sean. It’s always been about you. I want to help you. It's no secret that something is different about you. That something is missing... that aura of invincibility. Rumor around the hallowed halls of Empire Pro is that your era has ended, that your time has passed and perhaps maybe those rumors are true. BUT, I'm here to tell you that I can change that for you. I refuse to let your dynasty, your title reign go down in flames...to let you go down in flames. I wanna help you but only if you let me, only if you're willing.

TRIPLE X: And, just how are you going to do that?

“If you align yourself with me, I will show you. But I guess the truly important question is ... what are you willing to do to be EPW Champion again?”
TRIPLE X: I would do anything.

“Anything? Would you be willing to walk amongst me side-by-side?”

TRIPLE X: I would sell my soul to The Devil himself.


TRIPLE X[Confused]: Huh?

“The Devil HERSELF. And, that's EXACTLY what I wanted to hear, she said.

[NAKITA DAHAKA steps out of the shadows coming face-to-face with the former champion. Although, still shrouded in shades of darkness, she steps into just enough light to reveal a very naked bare back and shoulders indicated that she is completely nude, hiding any vital parts from being totally exposed, and just when it looks like she might reveal herself fully, the cover of darkness as she stands face to face with the Blue-Eyed Bad Ass in all of her naked glory. Her long fiery-red hair flows down freely past the middle of her back elegantly.]

DAHAKA: So... Do we have an accord? Does this deal sound beneficial?”

[Her green eyes stare intently into Stevens. As the totally mesmerized Sean Stevens nodded 'yes'.

Nakita smiles as she yanked him by the hair and begins slowly but sensually licking the side of his face.]

TRIPLE X[Flustered]: So it is said,” Trip continued, breathing heavily, “let it be known ... so it shall come to pass ... It Is Written,” he swallowed hard. “Another chapter and verse...”

[Dahaka stares into the eyes of the weakened warrior while stopping just at his neck smiling; she pulls Sean into her aggressively, pressing her breast against his chest.]

DAHAKA: According ... To ... My ... Gospel.

[Nakita Dahaka 'seals the deal' by kissing Sean Stevens passionately, as the dressing room door ‘magically’ slams and the scene fades out.]


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Larry Tact vs. Olvir Arsvinnar

[Camera switches over to Larry Tact and The Russian Viking already introduced and standing in the ring.]

DT: Larry Tact and Olivir are standing across the ring from one another. Tact is staring the larger man down.

MN: If he's lucky, Tact won't get teabagged tonight.

DM: That signal moment in EPW history should be erased.

MN: Which moment?

DM: .....

DT: The bell rings and Larry and Olivir hook up in the middle of the ring, Olivir slams his forearm into the back of Tact sending him to the mat. Olivir picks him up by the hair, hooks him, lifts him up and... is holding him straight in the air!

MN: He's letting all the blood flow straight to his head.

DM: You would know. Finally Olivir drops him to the mat with a loud thud. What the hell is the Viking doing now?

MN: He's raising the roof!

[Neely begins to raise the roof along with Olivir and the crowd is cheering loudly.]

DT: I don't think it's a good idea to turn your back on Larry Tact. He's definately no push over.

MN: Turn around you dumb buffoon!

DM: Too late!

DT: Tact NAILS Olivir with a low blow, which doesn't faze him?

DM: Tact is holding his arm in pain as if he hit something hard down there!

[Olivir reaches into his tights and pulls out a cup while shaking his finger at Tact.]

DT: The Viking is looking to capitalize. He lifts Tact up who pushes him off and Olivir charges at him with a clothesline! DUCKED by Tact, Tact with a right and a left and another right sends Olivir reeling into the ropes!

DM: Tact charges at Olivir and knees him in the gut, doubling him over. Tact takes advantage and flowing DDT!

MN: Man he is great but such an idiot at times.

DT: Olivir seems to be out and Tact rolls him over for the pin, hooks the leg, 1....2...

Tact gets BODYPRESSED off of Olivir who storms up to his feet. Tact is up too and Olivir goes for his arm, and yanks him across the ring into the turnbuckle!

DM: Tact looks dazed and Olivir is screaming towards him like a freight train... TACT MOVES!

Olivir crashes body first into the turnbuckle and Tact quickly rolls him up...


MN: WHAT THE HELL!?!? How'd he lose so quick?!?

DT: Mike, Larry Tact is a proffesional wrestler, not some big dumb idiot who raises the roof to victory every night out. Olivir was out skilled and he himself can't believe it as Tact makes the quick exit out the ring.


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
From one Troy to another....

[CUT-TO: Backstage, where Lindsay Troy and Dan Ryan walk side-by-side down a hallway, matching smirks on their faces. Troy has her hands in the pockets of her suit jacket, and her wavy black-cherry hair lifts and falls about her face.]

Lindsay Troy: That went rather well.

Dan Ryan: Never let it be said that this company didn't miss you while you were off being Ms. Big Shot everywhere else.

Lindsay Troy: Mmm. And now I get to be Ms. Big Shot here again. Funny how these things seem to work themselves out.

Dan Ryan: Indeed.

Lindsay Troy: [sarcastically] I appreciate the heads up on Miles by the way.

Dan Ryan: [smiling] I know how you love a challenge.

[As they continue on in their travels, various crew members stop to greet the returned Queen, both old and new alike. Her smirk turns to a patient smile as small talk is briefly made with those who seek it, before she and Dan continue on.]

Lindsay Troy: I'm going to have to remember everyone's name now, huh.

Dan Ryan: One of the many requirements of being an owner, I'm afraid. I'm sure you'll get the hang of it pretty quickly.

Lindsay Troy: And I get the Big Important Arena Office too. Complete with nameplate.

Dan Ryan: Which you've already picked out.

Lindsay Troy: And had affixed to the door while we were out there surprising the world, again.

[The two stop in front of a door, which Ryan pushes open to reveal...The Big Important Arena Office. Troy enters first, then Ryan follows. The Queen surveys the room, eyes falling to the desk.]

Lindsay Troy: That's new.

Dan Ryan: New desk for a new regime. Call it a gift from the Welcome Wagon.

Lindsay Troy: Does the Welcome Wagon also give me the gift of the company jet?

Dan Ryan: Whenever you need it.

[She smirks once more.]

Lindsay Troy: Think I'm going to like this job.

[Ryan steps out the door, closing it partially, as Troy moves to her desk, smiling. A moment passes, until a knock comes at the door. As it swings open, it reveals EPW Intercontinental Champion Troy Douglas stepping into the office.]

Troy Douglas: Well, I can't exactly say I saw THIS coming.

Lindsay Troy: Good thing that doing the unexpected seems to be part of my allure.

Troy Douglas: I'll say.

[Douglas takes a second to take in the new surroundings, not to mention the new shape of things in EPW, before a quizzical expression crosses his face.]

Troy Douglas: But, I don't get it. You go through everything here, everything everywhere else, and now this? What's the motivation?

Lindsay Troy: Dan could have kept running this company if he wanted to. There was no stipulation in that A1E War Games match that said if EPW lost, Dan had to give up ownership of this place. Thing is, whether we deliberately do it or not, we Troy ladies have a certain quality about us that sees us generally getting what we want, whether we mean to or not. My sister would never, could never, force Dan to retire, even though she wanted him to. But he did realize that he can't be the father and husband that he wants to be and still be doing what he's been doing for years; here, there, and everywhere. So, he rides off into the sunset but keeps his baby in the family. [Pause.] Now, as far as 'motivation' goes, I think you know quite well by now, and better than anyone here, that I am going through a process of ... reinventing myself, [she makes the obvious motion of pointing to her hair] and there wasn't a better choice out there than moi.

Troy Douglas: Hey, for the first time in a long time, I'm not questioning his judgment. I've got no problem with a man putting his family first, and as far as I can tell, Dan couldn't have left the company in better hands. But, have you really thought about the repercussions of all this? There are still … certain people around here who aren't going to exactly welcome you with a laurel and hearty handshake, you know.

Lindsay Troy: Oh, I know. I've already made the preliminary calls to ESPN to see about getting Kornheiser and Wilbon to devote a PTI <i>Oddsmakers</i> segment to figuring out the chances of Westcott quitting after finding out I'm in charge, especially after what Dan set him up for out there tonight.

[The normally stoic Douglas can barely contain himself at this, cracking a smile and trying to hold back a chuckle. He fails, covering his face as he laughs. After a moment, he regains full composure.]

Troy Douglas: Yeah, but Wilbon's just going to say "PUSH", then Tony'll start whining and the whole thing's gone out the window before you can say "Pacman Jones."

Lindsay Troy: It'll still be better than a LeBatard/Adande joint.

Troy Douglas: Touchè. And hey, you're the boss now. You want to force Marcus to wrestle in a dress - AGAIN - go right ahead. You want to innundate this show with a collection of windbag sportswriters so long it makes JA's display at Black Dawn look like a Shriner's parade on the Fourth of July in Dipstick, Kentucky, that's your prerogative. But, no Skip Bayless. You do that, and there'll be a SERIOUS problem on your hands.

Lindsay Troy: He's not on any show that has any meaning to me. But don't worry, Megatron, I'm fairly certain you'll find that I can be fair and benevolent. When the mood strikes me, that is. And I expect when I see you over in PRIME-land, that you'll be referring to me as Boss and not just Lindz."

[The Queen gives the smallest of smiles, and the show goes elsewhere...]


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
"Dark Phenom" Nakita Dahaka vs. SB

DT: Up next on Aggression 36, "The Dark Phenom" Nakita Dahaka set to take on the man formally known as Simply Beautiful, Mister "Simply Wrestling" himself, Andrew Rossi.

MN: Hey to me and the EPW, he will always SB.

DT: Right, and on that note, lets go down to the ring Tony Fedora in the center ready to announce the start of this next match.

[Cut to: Tony Fedora standing in the center with a microphone in his hand.]

TF: The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first...

[Music queue up: "Stone Cold Crazy" by Metallica as SB himself, "Simply Wrestling" Andrew Rossi makes his way from behind the black curtain and onto the EPW stage to a nice little mix of cheers and boos, as he does have a few fans in the audience showing some love for SB. Naturally, he ignores the crowd as he is "in the zone" and focused as he walks down the aisle with determination and purpose in his step.]

TF: Making his way down to the ring. Hailing from Staten Island, New York. Standing at 6'1, and weighing in at 235 lbs. HE IS SSSS…..BBBBBB!!!!!!!!!

DT: SB walking with focus, determination, and purpose in his steps. He truly looks like a man that is putting his past animosity with EPW pro wrestling legend, Dan Ryan behind him.

MN: Only because he has to.

DM: At least it shows that Dan Ryan left him with enough brain cells to conduct a shred of common sense because I think that The Ego Buster would love to take him out again just for the hell of it.

[Rossi slides into the ring and paces around the ring stretching himself out on the ropes patiently awaiting for his opponent. "Stone Cold Crazy" slowly fades out.]

TF: And his opponent...

[The lights go completely out. Only to be replaced with red lighting illuminating the arena, and blacklights all over the stage and entrance. Music que up: the beginning intro rifts and beats of "Gently" by Slipknot. The video screen ques up a nicely prepared video montage of Nakita Dahaka executing numerous high flying innovative moves on several known and unknown opponents that flow in sync with the intro and song. A thick cold fog rolls into the arena from the stage and down the ramp. A lone spotlight hovers directly over one single spot on the stage floor. A
ring of fire surrounds the trapdoor. The trapdoor opens and raises up onto the stage Nakita Dahaka along side
Nakita cracks her knuckles as she mentally prepares to walk down the ramp toward the ring keeping full focus on the tasks at hand. The lone spotlight dangles directly over her head and follows her wherever she goes. Nakita leaves the stage and walk down the aisle toward the ring ignoring the whatever cheers and jeers coming from the arena crowd.]

TF: Making her way to the ring. Hailing from Phoenix, Arizona. Standing at 6'4. Weighing in at 185 lbs. SHE IS "THE DARK PHENOM" NAKITA DAHAKA

MN: Man, she's one sexy, fine...ass thang...I'D HIT DAT!

DM: Let me guess, you've been hanging around Ice Tre haven't you?

MN: Yeah, I've got street cred...go me, I rule!

DT: Yeah right, anyway if anything we should be scared of Nakita because although she is beautiful, she is also quite skilled in the ring, and this should be an intense, competitive contest.

[Nakita arrives at ringside, walks up the ringsteps, across the ring apron, then steps between the ropes into the ring. Nakita takes a knee in the center of the ring. The spotlight hovers directly over her head coming to a complete stop. Nakita's slides leather trench coat and hands it off to the time keeper at ringside.The main arena lights come back on as "Gently" slowly fades out. Nakita brushes her long naturally fire-red hair red hair out of her face as she stares green-eyed laser beams into SB clear across the ring. Rossi returns the stare down with a look that would kill another man.]

[Both competitors are in the ring pacing around the ring in a calm, methodical, circle. Fedora steps out of the ring and takes his place near the time keeper table. The bell sounds for the start of the match.]


DT: And here we go...

[Nakita Dahaka and SB charge into the center and lock up a textbook collar and elbow tie-up.]

DT: Nakita actually has a distinct height and reach advantage over SB but He outweighs Dahaka by almost 40 pounds, but interesting enough both of their in-ring styles are somewhat similar.

MN: Nakita might rely a little more on the aerial attacks as SB is more of a ground and pound, ware'em down technician.

[SB, uses his strength advantage and hurls The Dark Phenom with a push attack that sends her doing a backward roll. She rolls onto her hands and knees. Her green eyes peer through her strands of long red hair that have fallen down over her face. Nakita takes her hand and brushes her hair out of her face then slams her first into the mat and bounce herself up to her feet. The crowd pops as SB motions for Dahaka with two fingers to come at him again. The Dark Phenom responds with a rye smile.]

DT: I think that SB was showing off a bit with a little power play action over Nakita Dahaka in the very early minute of this match. He's showing that he has some power over her.

[Nakita moves into the center once more, this time she is actually calling for a test of strength with one hand in the air. Smug and confident, SB accepts and grasp onto Nakita hand, but just as he is about to lock on with the other hand, Nakita takes the initiative and immediately nails SB with a front dropkick right into his knees sending SB to land face first right on the canvas. Nakita immediately capitalizes by keeping a hold of SB's arm and locking on a arm bar cranking back on his arm.]

DT: Nakita Dahaka, faking a test of strength and then keeps the arm and hits a front dropkick right into SB's knees, and now she has him on the mat with an arm bar. SB is in a lot of pain at this present moment.

DM: But its still too early to take SB out.

[SB manages to wiggle out from off of his stomach and begin to get back up to a vertical base. To fully break free of the arm bar and away from Nakita, he is able to get himself into position to where he begins landing several back elbows right into the stomach of Dahaka. SB shakes off the arm bar and then Irish whips Nakita into the ropes, on the return, Nakita is nailed and turns end over end with a huge, nasty, very stiff, flying lariat from Ross that nearly takes her head off. She lands flat on her back as SB is clearly in control now.]

MN: Somebody check to see if Nakita's head is still attached to her body after that one.

DT: It looks like SB didn't like that front dropkick right into his knees earlier and felt that he needed to follow up with that hard lariat right into Nakita coming off of the ropes and now it looks like SB is in firm control of this match and she is completely at his mercy.

[SB goes for a cover and hooks the leg on Nakita as the referee drops down to make the first pin attempt of the match]




[As Nakita gets the shoulder up. SB waste no time as he goes to work on Dahaka's head and neck area locking on a camel clutch and wrenching the pressure on The Dark Phenom. The ref checks to see if she wants to submit and she shakes her head "NO" emphatically. After some time of holding Nakita in the move, SB turns loose of her feeling that he needs another approach to further weaken the "Green-Eyed Devil". SB picks Nakita up off of the canvas by her red hair and Irish Whips her into the ropes. On the return, he bends down and attempts to hit a back body drop but she leap frogs over his head and runs towards the opposite end of the ring. Then Nakita springboard jumps up onto the ropes, flipping backwards, and actually nails a Pey Ley kick landing on target right on the top of SB's head. Both competitors lay on the mat as the ref begins to count.]



DM: Hey, this ain't soccer, just who does she think she is?

MN: Ah, Pey Ley, except much hotter?



DT: Either way it totally worked, as Nakita Dahaka came to, leap frogged over SB, to the other side of the ring, springboard jumped off the ropes and hit a picture perfect, poetry-in-motion, pey ley kick right on target and now the ref is counting and if neither one can't get up this match is all over.


[The crowd is rallying trying to get both competitors to get up and continue as the ref counts.]


[Both SB and Nakita begin to stir back up to their feet.]|


[Their starting to make their way up to their feet.]


[Finally they have both made to a vertical base. The referee sees that they are set to continue and waves his hands to break it off and to continue on. Nakita looks really pissed off at SB and vice versa.]

MN: Man she is pissed, and is it just me or are any of you strangely aroused by Nakita when she's enraged?

DM: No, I think it's just you.

DT: Very much.

[Nakita Dahaka, doubles up her fist, and WHAAAAAAAAAAMMMMM]

DT: Nakita just nailed SB right in the chest with an old school heart punch right in the sternum.

[SB doesn't fall down, but instead he stumbles back gripping his chest gasping for a breath. Nakita waste no time and grabs his head and runs for the nearest turnbuckle.]

DT: It looks like Nakita is wasting no time and wants to put this one away once and for all, it looks like she is trying to hit her signature finisher, The Dragon Snap.

MN: Go you sexy siren you. You can do it!

[Nakita runs up the turnbuckle like stairs to the very top while still holding SB's head, immediately flipping off backwards in a full 180 degree backwards flip, but while she is in mid air. SB, comes to, and in mid move counters The Dragon Snap before she can touch down, and locks a hold of Nakita's head, and follows up by turning the move into brain buster/power slam/jack hammer counter as Nakita bounces off of the mat with almost all 235 lbs of Andrew Rossi landing right on top of her. He hooks the leg as the ref goes for the count.]





[Nakita was close to the ropes and her instincts told her to put her foot on the rope which proved most wise as the ref stopped the count. SB can't believe that what he saw as he thought that he had her beat with that totally awesome counter. He actually stands up and gets in the refs face and argue with the fact that it was a three count and not a two, but the ref stands by his ruling. All the while Nakita slowly begins to stir as she makes it to the ropes and uses them to help pull herself up.]

DT: SB really does believe that he had the three count on Nakita after that beautiful counter into a brain buster power slam but Nakita put her feet on the rope.

MN: I think that this match is really getting to SB because he's giving Nakita time to recover. She's already made it to the ropes and is starting to pull herself back up to her feet.

DM: Man, SB, turn your ass around.

[SB sees Nakita making her way back up to her feet. He pushes the ref out of the way and rushes over to attack Nakita, but she catches him out of the corner of her eye and when he attacks, she low bridges the rope causing him to topple over the rope to the outside. Nakita shakes the remaining cobwebs out of her head then grabs the top ropes and springboard leaps over the rope right down on top of SB with a graceful suicide dive to the outside. As SB and Dahaka lay motionless on the outside, The referee begins his ten count.]



[SB and Dahaka rise to their feet.]



[They look up at each other and all of a suddenly everything becomes a blur for them. They forget about the match and they have totally locked onto each other. Nakita pounces right down on top of SB and taking them both down on the mat. They begin trading stiff, nasty hard rights right into each other.]


DM: What the hell are they doing? They need to get back in the ring and finish this match before they get counted out.

MN: I think that it's safe to say that their throwing the match out the window here because they just straight up want blood.

[With each stiff punch that Nakita and SB have landed, both have actually caused the other to bleed. Nakita is bleeding from her forehead, and SB is bleeding from his nose and the side of his face but still they continue to brawl.]

DT: They both managed to bust each other open.



DT: The fans are actually cheering on both of them and want them to get back in the ring and finish this match, but I don't think that neither Dahaka nor SB is listening.

MN: To them or the ref.

[SB finally manages to get the upper hand on Nakita and struggles to fight out of the brawl where he begins making his way back to the ring to break the ref's count and if he's lucky come away with a win.]


DM: Go SB, get back in the ring, you can do it.

[But before SB can slide back in, Nakita Dahaka has reach up and has wrapped herself completely around his leg like a snake. Both competitors bleeding. SB tries to shake her off but The Dark Phenom will not budge.]

MN: I don't believe it, Nakita Dahaka is actually keeping SB from entering back into the ring.


[SB does everything he can to kick Nakita off and finally does but just as he is can get fully back into the ring, the referee sounds off for the tenth and final time.]



[The referee informs Fedora the decision.]

TF: This match is ruled a no contest due to a DOUBLE COUNT OUT!

[SB runs up to the referee and gets in his face ordering him to restart the match, but the referee once again stands his ground and will not budge on the ruling. The Charlotte, North Carolina crowd inside the arena are booing in accordance with SB trying to get them to finish the match, but the ruling still stands. The crowd boo and start chanting at the ref.]


CROWD: LET THEM FINISH [clap clap clap clap clap] LET THEM FINISH [clap clap clap clap clap]

DT: SB isn't the only one who doesn't like the ruling as these fans right here in Charlotte, North Carolina are demanding an immediate restart of this match.

MN: Say, where's Nakita?

[While SB is arguing with the referee, Nakita Dahaka has reached underneath the ring and taken something out from underneath the ring and slide into the ring with it. Nakita prepares a couple of wind-up swings with the steel chair to get SB's attention. When he turns around...


DT: Nakita Dahaka just blasted Andrew Rossi right in the face with that steel chair.

MN: SB's out cold. Nakita should take up self portraits because that dent is spot on with SB is picture perfect. That chair completely dented, imprinted with his face on it.

[While SB is down and out flat on his back on the canvas, Nakita looks like she does not wanna stop there and raises the steel chair set to take the chair and bash his head in some more, but before she can, the referee reaches up and grabs the steel chair trying to take it from her. They play tug-of-war with it.]

DT: The referee is trying to get the steel chair away from Nakita to keep her from doing any more damage to SB.

MN: But it looks like Nakita doesn't wanna give it up.

[They tug on it some more and then Nakita begins to give and releases her grip of the steel chair dropping the steel chair on the canvas right at the ref's feet.]

DT: Well it looks like that she has finally listened to reason.

DM: Don't be too sure. Never trust a demon possessed woman who thinks that she's the devil incarnated.

[And Dean couldn't of said it better. Just as the ref bends down to pick up the steel chair, Nakita instantly grabs his head and spikes his head hard on the steel chair with a nasty DDT. The ref is out as Nakita slides out of the ring back peddling up the ramp smiling at the carnage that she has caused. Andrew Rossi begins to stir up to his feet rubbing his head and starring laser beams of hatred at "The Dark Phenom". The referee is still out cold.]

DT: Nakita Dahaka just took out a EPW referee for doing his job. I hope that the board of directors really stick it to her.

MN: Yeah, let me stick it to her.

DM: With you? I'm sure that she would think you’re a joke.

MN: Admit it, you wanna hit it just as much as me...if not more.

DM: Yes, but that's neither here nor there.

DT: We'll be right back with a word from our World Tag Team Champions…after this quick commercial.


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX

[FADEIN: The camera on the ring, which has a black couch and a series of TV's on tables, showing 'The Matrix'. THE FIRST is pacing around, wearing a black three piece suit with a red shirt and black tie. ROZY stands to the side, wearing a tight black T-shirt and pants, holding one of the EPW World Tag Team Title belts over her shoulder. FELIX RED sits on the coach wearing a D.A.R.E. T-Shirt and grey dickies. GOTHOPOTIMUS stands behind the couch, wearing a way to revealing belly shirt and shorts, he's holding the other tag belt over his head and acting like the socially unacceptable spaz that he is. The music slowly fades out as FIRST begins to speak.]

FIRST: 'Welcome one and all, to this...The debut...Of Forsaken TV...Or as the cool kids call it...F-TV...Now normally we'd want to kick the show off with some truly elite talent...But sadly they all were booked solid...So we're stuck with the two guys we crushed at the last Pay-Per-View...So anyhow we figured we'd bring them out anyhow...Here's CHRONIC COLLIZION!'

[The crowd pops as the '10001110101' by Clutch plays and 'The Escape Artist' ERIC BLACK and 'The Raging Russian' IVAN DALKICHEV, both wearing street clothes, head to the ring, they enter and begin glaring at The Forsaken.]

FELIX: 'Wow I can't believe you guys showed up after that beating we gave you, ha ha!' [FELIX smirks at BLACK who looks like he's about to punch him.]

FELIX: 'No no! The couch is a no hit zone!'

FIRST: 'Guys guys! Settle down! We're just here to talk, and well if we happen to bring up our recent victory over you now and again...So be it...Anyhow...So what the hell brings you guys out here other then a public degrading?'

BLACK: 'Well, Forsaken... while it WAS our first impression to just kick your asses in the parking lot... Ivan and I got to thinking, and we realized that what you two guys dished out at Black Dawn was... pretty impressive'

IVAN: 'Like, CHRONIC COLLIZION!! impressive... ALMOST.'

GOTHO: 'Weeee...Are the Champions my friend!!' [GOTHO stumbles over towards CHRONIC COLLIZON holding the belt]

BLACK: 'We moron? You aren't a part of this.'

FIRST: 'Ignore him, it's best for your mind and stomach...Anyhow...What the makes you think you'd have a shot against us now?'

BLACK: 'So, we have to give respect where it's due, HOWEVER... don't think the two of you are off the hook just YET! You see, while you may be the first team to EVER serve the CHRONIC COLLIZION!! [formerly the Crimson Calling] its FIRST defeat, you've hardly seen the last of us!'

IVAN: 'Big targets on your back for when we come to VJORK YOU IN ASS later!!' [Crowd pops! FIRST just sort of looks annoyed]

BLACK: 'That's right, I'm afraid. You see... Ivan and I realized after our defeat that CHANGE is needed within the CHRONIC COLLIZION!! Too long, we've been passed off as nothing more than buffoons... hardly the unstoppable powerhouses that were once FEARED in this federation!' [Crowd roars!]

BLACK: 'So... buff those titles guys, cause sooner or later, we'll be BACK to reclaim them!'

GOTHO: 'Why so much anger? Come on...Let's hug!'

[GOTHO hugs a horrified BLACK who pushes him away]

GOTHO: 'Hey I'm not gay! I'm bi, I'm sexually liberated like Tila Tequila! Let's kiss!'

FELIX: 'Yeah, C'mon guys, kiss my flunky!'

[BLACK decks GOTHO as he tries to kiss him...BLACK lands a couple kicks on him as he rolls away to the protection of THE FORSAKEN.]

FIRST: 'Hey...Nobody beats on him but us, so now we got a problem here.'

BLACK: 'You want to do something about it?'

[All four men begin looking ready to fight.]

[CUEUP: “Turn On Tha Radio” by Rage Against the Machine pumps in over the PA. Black’s confidently grinning face immediately goes PALE as he looks to Dalkichev, who bears an expression of equal shock and dread.]

MN: Oh, what’s this all about?!

DT: Uh oh… I know what THAT music means!

DM: Familiar music filling this arena… and Erik Black and Ivan Dalkichev look like they’ve just seen a ghost!

[Slowly, the duo turn to the stage as a curt-faced man dressed in a raven-black business suit steps out through the entry-way. Bearing a sharp grin, he presents himself to the stunned men in the ring, earning JEERS from some of Empire Pro’s longtime fans. BLACK and DALKICHEV’s jaws pop open in surprise.]

DT: It’s NATHAN FEAR!! He’s come BACK to Empire Pro!

MN: OH MAN, NOT HIM!! Uh… who is he?

DM: It’s the former manager of the CHRONIC COLLIZION!!

MN: Formerly the Crimson Calling.

DM: Exactly, the man BEHIND the Crimson Calling! And now he’s back?! Where’s he been this entire time?

DT: I heard rumors about being penned up in padded room somewhere in upstate Indiana, but… seeing him now, I guess he’s legally SANE once again, or something.

[Soaking up the boos from the ringside fans, Fear calmly makes his way down the ramp as his former team stares with matching white faces. He comes up the steps and naturally enters the ring, drawing a mic from Erik’s unmoving and seemingly paralyzed hand.]

FEAR: Hello, Erik… Hello, Ivan…

[He smirks, turning to the fans.]

FEAR: And a most personal, heart-felt “HELLO!” to all you simple-minded American SHEEP out there!! You PAWNS to a corrupt Capitalist empire!!

[The audience BOOS loudly!]

FIRST: 'You're making fun of the sheep in the crowd, you're cool.'

FEAR: 'Shut up freak! This is about me...Not you... It’s been a long time since anybody’s seen me in an Empire Pro ring. Personally speaking, it’s felt like an ETERNITY. I’m sure many of you hoped I would never come back, BUT… a man of my IDEALS and VISION could not possibly be held down, thrown into a cell, and locked up forever!'

[His shark-like grin fades slightly as a sense of frustration overwhelms him.]

FEAR: 'They tried to call me CRAZY! They claimed I was a rambling fool! But HA! …they were wrong. And, now that the National Committee of Mental Health and Wellness of Central Indiana has OFFICIALLY proven my sanity, I’m FREE to make my return!'

[He turns back to his two former underlings… specifically, Erik.]

FEAR: 'And like you, Erik, old friend… I’m ready for CHANGE…'

[Erik and Ivan exchange a confused look. Fear presses on.]

FEAR: 'I’m ready for a REBIRTH… a REVITALIZATION… a new product that replaces the old! I want a TEAM that outdoes everything the legendary Crimson Calling WAS, and outdoes everything it could ever expected to become! I want the GLORY of my Red American dream realized and brought to life in the form of US…

…the NEW Crimson Calling!'

[A not so favorable reaction emanates from the crowd. Erik and Ivan look to each other, slightly offended.]

FEAR: 'Together, we can CHANGE Empire Pro! We can usher in a new generation of Tag Team professional wrestling! We’ll set a standard that puts freaks like THESE two…'

[He gestures to THE FORSAKEN, who shake their heads in disgust.]

FEAR: '…to shame.'

[Smiling proudly, he puts an arm on Ivan Dalkichev’s massive shoulder and looks deep into his eyes.]

FEAR: 'And now I ask you, my soldiers… my CHILDREN…. If the two of you will JOIN me, and realize this beautiful vision?'

[Another unfavorable reaction from the fans. Ivan and Erik noticeably don’t look won over.]

DT: 'I don’t know about “beautiful,” but I think there might have been some poor judgment on the National Central, uh… Committee of, uh… Wellness and whatever it was called.'

DM: 'No doubts about that, Dave. This guy’s STILL a little cuckoo.'

MN: 'Yeah, but he hasn’t lost his slick, Feary COOLNESS. Gotta give him that.'

DM: '…you couldn’t even REMEMBER HIM five minutes ago!'

MN: 'Hey, it’s all coming back to me now. Chill out!'

[Erik takes the mic from Ivan and decides to speak on the behalf of the CHRONIC COLLIZION!!, formerly the Crimson Calling.]

BLACK: …sup, Nate? Fancy bumping into you again, huh? Been some years. Almost didn’t recognize you without the straight-jacket and miner’s beard and f*cked up hair, but yeah, you know…

[FEAR doesn’t put off his cunning smile, but looks noticeably annoyed.]

BLACK: 'Now… this “Red American Dream,” or whatever you’re talking about… yeah, it sounds cool, like… maybe from some 70’s sci-fi post-urban modern-nu-deco action flick, but… what you’re looking at right now is the CHRONIC COLLIZION!!'

[He pops the mic out to the fans.]


[BIG pop from the crowd. Ivan and Erik nod in satisfaction. Fear takes notice, but doesn’t seem taken aback by it.]

BLACK: 'Well, yeah, you heard him. The key word there is “FORMER.” We WERE the Crimson Calling… but now we aren’t any more.'

[IVAN waves for the mic and BLACK hands it off.]

IVAN: 'Yeah bro, is like… with all due honor and respect to most glorious former manager and trainer… but Black-Daddy over there and BIG RUSSIAN LUV have outgrown “manager” stage in our most excellent tag team! We still have the talent… the presence… the FANS…

[Another big cheer from the crowd.]

IVAN: In short, Mister Fear… CHRONIC COLLIZION!! has outgrown former Crimson Calling! Bigger, better, and much easier to merchandise.'

[Hands the mic back to Erik.]

BLACK: 'It’s no offense, Fear, but we don’t need ya… and to be quite honest, we don’t WANT YA! We’re fine how we our, and besides… your definition of “change,” well… it’s just not something we’re eye to eye with.'

[Hands the mic back to Ivan. Fear raises his hand to declare his rebuttal.]

FEAR: 'Guys… I don’t think you’re quite up to speed on things here. You see, out of the kindness of my heart, I ASKED the two of you to join me…'

IVAN: 'Answer is NO, Rich Boy!'

FEAR: '….but seeing as how you’re not cooperating with me, I’m just going to have to DEMAND that you assume your place in MY command. Otherwise, you can go back to that locker room, pack your bags, and go home. FOREVER.'

[The duo look stung by this, but then look to each other, and throw their heads back and laugh. Black gets back on the mic.]

BLACK: 'GO HOME… right… and just WHAT, exactly, gives you the power to just walk in here and DEMAND we join you again?!'

FEAR: 'Well, since you asked… I’ll TELL you…

[Fear reaches into his jacket and pulls out two neatly folding pieces of paper.]

FEAR: You fellas happen to recognize THESE?'

[They stop laughing as they blink questionably at the pages in his hand.]

BLACK: 'Dude… you could make a HUGE joint with papers like that.'

[Growing angry, Fear fiercely unfolds them and presses them within inches of their faces.]

FEAR: 'THESE are your contracts of employment to IWF!'

MN: 'Okay… I KNOW I don’t remember that! Anybody mind filling me in on who or what an IWF is?'

DT: 'Insanity Wrestling Federation. A little known hardcore fed from earlier in the decade. Fear was the Vice President.'

[Erik and Ivan look in utter DEFEAT at the black and white print in front of them, and their scrawled signatures on the lines at the bottom of their respective contracts.]

FEAR: 'IWF was your old stomping grounds! I brought you in as my SECURITY ENFORCERS before I set you loose in the big leagues! You two are my EMPLOYEES!'

BLACK: 'But… DUDE… I mean… IWF hasn’t had a show in YEARS! I mean, it’s NOTHING right now! There’s no merch, no headquarters, no fans, no TALENT, no loyal janitor named Eddie who turns the lights off every night… bottom line, it doesn’t EXIST!'

[Fear shrugs.]

FEAR: 'Sure… it may not have any of those tangible things. But I assure you, IWF, while at relatively LOW value at this point, is STILL a recognized business. And after the owner Jason Reeves fell off the face of the earth… I managed to pick up all the rights and titles.'

MN: 'Jason Reeves… wait, STALKER?!'

DM: 'And these two have CONTRACTS to a defunct fed?! Wait, I’m confused!'

DT: 'You’re not alone, Dean-O!'

MN: 'Wait, wait… STALKER had his own FED?!'

FEAR: 'So, the REAL bottom line, ERIK, is that I’M THE BOSS… and YOU TWO are my employees! You SIGNED these contracts, and the terms that YOU AGREED TO demand that you follow my EVERY WORD! Refuse me, and my lawyers step in. You’ll be blacklisted, and there won’t be a promoter on the face of the PLANET who would even dream of booking you, lest they face an unbeatable lawsuit!

Basically, boys… you’re either WITH ME… or WITHOUT A JOB!'

[Erik and Ivan are obviously distressed to hear this.]

BLACK: 'Wait a minute, for HOW LONG?!'

[Fear glances over the paperwork again.]

Fear: 'Well according to this… you’re in my service until 2020.'

[Ivan’s eyes roll back into his head and with a BOOMING THUD, falls flat on his back! Erik is immediately at his side to resuscitate him. The Forsaken look on in wonder and a hint of amusement. Dalkichev comes to and immediately looks to Erik.]

FIRST: 'Oh...That had to hurt.'

IVAN: 'Bro… we signed our lives away for TWENTY YEARS?!'

BLACK: 'I guess you couldn’t read back then. And me, well… damn, I was probably just too high.'

[With his sinister smile plastered back on his face, Fear rolls up the contracts and bats them lightly upon Erik’s head to get his attention.]

Fear: 'Unfortunately… those “HIGH TIMES” are coming to an end! Now… get your sorry asses off that mat and show yourselves to the paying fans.'

[With some effort, Black manages to help the bulk of Ivan Dalkichev back to his feet. Fear turns to the fans and points to his team.]

Fear: 'Ladies and gentlemen… I present to YOU… the Crimson Calling!

…FORMERLY… the Chronic Collision!'

[HUUUUGE JEERING from the fans as Erik and Ivan look as though the life has been completely sucked out of them. It’s that look you get when that girl you hooked up with a month ago comes up to saying she has something important to tell you. Fear, gloating, turns his focus to the Forsaken.]

FEAR: 'And at the NEXT Aggression… we challenge the two of you CLOWNS to those titles you currently hold! The Crimson Calling were the FIRST champions, and soon, they will be the NEW champions, reclaiming their long lost glory!'

[Back to the fans.]

Fear: 'And you… the always predictable, always CONTROLLABLE fans that fill these seats, and the millions more watching at home… will be the SEEDS I SOW as I rally a NEW philosophy… a NEW society…


Don’t like that idea? Then let me remind you… FEAR… is your only God!'

[“Turn On Tha Radio” hits the PA as Fear basks in the jeering crowd. After savoring the moment of his return a few minutes longer, he waves for Black and Dalkichev to follow, who obediently hold open the ropes as he leaves the ring, and promptly follow. Hanging their heads, they walk ahead of their manager to the back as Fear backpedals up the ramp, pointing threateningly to the EPW Tag Team Champions standing in the ring.]

DT: 'Well talk about a TURN OF EVENTS for the CHRONIC COLLIZION!!'

MN: '…presently the Crimson Calling.'

DM: 'Tell me about it, Dave. “The Escape Artist” and “Raging Russian” came down here tonight to promise to take the tag champs seriously and lay down a challenge to a rematch. But I hardly think they had THIS in mind. Still, if they signed those legal documents, then they ARE bound to Nathan Fear’s authority!'

DT: 'I’m afraid that may be so, Dean. Erik and Ivan seemingly have NO CHOICE but to remain as the Crimson Calling until 2020. Man, that’s another twelve years! That could be the rest of their career!'

MN: 'OKAY, THAT’S IT!! I have a question, and it’s driving me crazy!'

DM: '…what, Mike?'

MN: 'STALKER… had a FED?!'

DT: '…nevermind, Mike.'

GOTHO: 'Man can you believe the nerve of those guys talking like that? And they hit me! I'm hurt...Kiss me First! Take away the pain!'

[First decks Gotho again.]

FIRST: 'I am allowed to hit you, never forget that...And Mr. Fear, while you and your idiot flunkies are busy plotting big trouble for moose and squirrel...We're gonna be out breaking skulls and taking names...You want another shot at us? Take it, take ten more, take a hundred more...Cause you will NEVER...Beat us...'

[CUEUP: 'Never Wanted to Dance' By Mindless Self Indulgence, TBM remix as First, Felix, Rozy, and a staggering Gotho leave the ring...]



Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
TV Title Match: Fusenshoff (c) vs. Beast

DT: Alright, folks, up next, we’ve got championship action on Aggression here in Charlotte. Fusenshoff has made a tremendous impact in a very short time here in EPW, culminating with his TV championship win at Black Dawn. Tonight, the big man from British Columbia is thrown immediately back into the fire as he defends against a man who was the face of this company for years, but has, in recent months, become estranged with our fanbase.

MN: If by that you mean they hate his weasly Canadian, A1E-loving guts, you’re dead on.

DM: Biased much, Mikey?

MN: I spent WAY too much time around those people, Deano. Wanna know why we’ve taken this break?

DM: Pray tell.

MN: I’ve had to spend the last three weeks inside a completely sterile environment to get Sal Scantlin’s stench off of me.

DT: Too much information, Michael. Let’s go to the ring.

[CUTTO: Tony Fatora in the middle of the ring, microphone in hand.]

TF: The following contest is scheduled for ONE FALL, and is for the EPW World Television Championship! Introducing first, the challenger…

[CUEUP: “Ladies and Gentlemen” by Saliva as MASSIVE crowd heat accompanies the former EPW World Champion. There are some cheers mixed in, but Beast doesn’t give a damn either way, walking to the ring with a confident, defiant smirk on his face.]

TF: … from Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada. Weighing in at 285 pounds … THIS. IS. BEEEEAAAAASSSSSTTT!!!!

His opponent…

[CUEUP: “A Little Less Conversation” by Elvis Presley as the new TV champion steps out onto the entranceway to a mixed reaction from the Carolina crowd. Many are still unsure about the relative newcomer, but others are ready to embrace anyone on the other side of the ring from the leader of the anti-EPW movement.]

TF: … from Kamloops, British Columbia, Canada. Weighing in at 263 pounds, he is the REIGNING and DEFENDING EPW World Television Champion … FUUUUUUSSEEEENSSSSHOOOFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!

[Fatora steps out of the ring, and Fusenshoff hands the TV Title belt to referee Bryan Weatherby, who holds it high above his head. Weatherby walks over to the timekeeper and hands him the belt, then signals for the opening bell to sound.]

DT: Here we go Television title on the line!

MN: It’s not even funny anymore how much of a giant dork you are.

DT: Fusenshoff goes to lock up – but Beast says NO WAY! He clubbed him right across the side of the head with a vicious forearm! And another! Now Beast grabs the arm, hammerlock … OHHHHHH! Beast just threw Fusenshoff’s right shoulder directly into the ringpost!

DM: That’s not something we normally see from Beast, but you can see that he’s in the mood to take care of business tonight.

DT: Beast pulls Fuse out of the corner, grabs a front facelock, and he DRIVES a knee straight into that right shoulder! And another! One more, and the TV champion’s arm is going to be hanging by a thread in VERY short order.

MN: That would be so gross and SO awesome.

DT: Beast still controlling Fusenshoff’s head, brings him up … and sends him crashing to the mat with a snap suplex! The big man measures the TV champ up, and he drops the knee right across his chest, then rolls over for the pin…


Not quite two!

DM: Beast is targeting that shoulder early, but it’ll take a lot more than that to put down a new champion in his first defense.

MN: Yeah. It’ll take a lot of RAAAHHR~!

DM: Cram it, dingus.

DT: Beast pulls Fusenshoff off the mat, but the champ fires a forearm right to the challenger’s midsection! Beast issues right back with a HUGE chop to the chest, but eats one from Fusenshoff! Beast! Fusenshoff! Beast! Fuse! A battle of wills right in the center of the right, and now both men are simultaneously drilling each other with NASTY forearms to the side of the head!

MN: Stereo whoopin. My kind of thing, babe.

DM: Who’re you calling “babe”?

DT: Fusenshoff gaining the advantage, raining down forearms onto Beast – but the former world champ shoves him into the ropes … off comes Fusenshoff, and he charges into Beast! Beast ricochets … another big shoulder tackle! Fuse off the ropes, and he rams into Beast! Now Beast with another charge!

MN: Anybody else feel like they’re watching at game of Human Pong?

DM: Only you would bring up Pong, Neels.

DT: Fusenshoff rocks Beast with another tackle, Beast goes stumbling back … no tackle this time! The TV champ reared back and caught Beast with a GIGANTIC boot right to the face! He picks Beast up, but not for long, as the challenger is right back down courtesy of a hard powerslam!

DM: For a guy who’s shoulder has to be bothering him in the early portion of this match, to slam a 285 pound guy with that much ease is impressive.

MN: Yeah, almost like there’s something strangely fake and pre-planned about this whole industry. Anyone else ever think of stuff like that?

DT/DM: Nope.

MN: Yeah, you’re right. It’s WAAAY too crazy.

DT: Fuse rolls Beast up to his feet, and whips him right into the corner! Fusenshoff sets on the opposite side of the ring, here he comes … WHAT AN AVALANCHE! The champion just threw all 263 of his pounds into the challenger at incredible speed! Beast wobbles out … into a monster backdrop! Fusenshoff spins around for the pin…



Not enough this time!

DM: Beast may not have the most affection for EPW right now, but it’s been a long time since he’s held gold in this company and you know he’d LOVE to shove that in Dan Ryan’s face.

MN: That’s not the ONLY thing he’d love to shove in Danny’s face.

DM: Ummm … EWWWW?

DT: Beast tries to take the champion to the mat with the double-leg … but Fusenshoff stops him with a knee right to the face! Now an irish whip by the champ … boot to the gut … swinging neckbreaker! The champion is on a roll!

MN: With mayo and pickles?

DM: No.


DT: Fusenshoff holds onto the head, rolls right through … into a spike DDT! Tremendous impact from the champion, and he might’ve retained the title right there!



Aaaand a kickout by Beast! The champ is giving the challenger all he can handle, but Beast won’t give in.

MN [singing]: No he won’t back down, gonna stand his ground.

DM: First, I’m pretty sure those aren’t the right lyrics. Second, NO SINGING!

MN: Dang.

DT: Fusenshoff brings Beast back to his feet, scoops him up … into an inverted atomic drop! Fuse hits the ropes, going for a big lariat … BUT FANS!

DM: A swing and a miss that even Ryan Howard can be proud of.

DT: Fuse on the rebound, but Beast spins to his feet and kicks him directly in the stomach! Now Beast rams a shoulder into Fuse’s gut … and rams him into the corner! Beast has him backed into a tight spot … and chops him RIGHT across the chest.
















MN: Damn.

DT: Beast going for another chop – but Fusenshoff finally recovers and gives him a stiff left jab right to the jaw! Now a big right from the big brawler, and Beast has just been knocked a little loopy!

MN: Heh. Loafy’s loopy.

DM: Not with the Loafy thing again. I thought you were over that like three years ago.

MN: Nope.

DT: Beast wobbles around, straight into a HARD kick to the body! Now Fuse doubles him over, locks in the pumphandle … OH! The shoulder gave out as he had Beast in midair, and the challenger slipped free! Into a small package!


DT: ONE...


AND THREE-QUARTERS! Fusenshoff managed to slip out at the last moment, but … what a show of technical ability from Beast!

DM: I don’t believe it, but Beast just rolled through Fusenshoff’s escape and clamped on a kimura! Jiu-jitsu style keylock applied on the mat, putting TONS of pressure on the champion’s already damaged shoulder!

MN: SOMEBODY’s been watching his MMA and trying to steal stuff.

DM: C’mon, Mikey! Beast’s got a longstanding reputation as a submission wizard, but with his incredible power arsenal, it often goes ignored.

DT: Beast is wrenching on that hold with as much torque as he can muster, and I don’t know how much longer Fusenshoff is going to be able to hold on with this!

MN: If he doesn’t want to have an overcooked piece of linguini for an arm for the next few months, he’s got about 17.32 seconds.

DT: Beast is trying to pull the TV champion’s shoulder right out of it’s socket, and Fusenshoff is doing everything he can to sit up and relieve some of the pressure!


DM: Apparently there aren’t a whole bunch of Beast fans in Charlotte tonight.

DT: Fusenshoff’s doing absolutely everything in his power to try and escape, and he’s reached his knees … and he sweeps Beast! He spun through and put the challenger on his back! Bryan Weatherby drops for the count…



THRRRNOOO! Beast broke the hold in JUST enough time to avoid being pinned, but that was an absoutely amazing counter by the Television champion!

MN: Ya THINK? For him to do what he just done did … well I don’t even know how he done did it!

DM: Don’t sprain anything there, Mikey.

DT: Beast trying to stay on the advantage, but Fusenshoff just jammed his good shoulder right into his gut! And another! One more, and Beast is in the corner! Fusenshoff rears back, ROARING ELBOW! He hit Beast with that wicked elbow while he was trapped in the corner! And now, he’s setting Beast up top!

DM: Kids, get the damn Richter Scale ready.

DT: Fuse is up there to join him, both men are standing up on the top rope! These two giants’ heads are 10 feet above the canvas! Beast trying to provide some dead weight, but Fusenshoff’s got the head hooked…

SUPERPLEX!!! Both men CRASHING to the mat! Wait a minute, Fusenshoff rolls straight through … has Beast on his shoulders … TEE-KAY-OHHH!!!! Swinging cutter from the fireman’s carry, and the challenger is OUT!

MN: Hence the name, but still, holy sh—



DT: Fusenshoff might have this match won, but he put so much pressure on that shoulder with that incredible power combination that he’s barely able to crawl for the pin!

DM: He put a big hurt on Beast with that move, Dave, but with reward so too comes risk, and he may have just fired his last bullet and might not even have enough for the three count.

DT: Fusenshoff crawling … crawling … and … he … DRAPES THE ARM ACROSS THE CHEST!!!



THRRRREEEEE!!!! Wait! Wait! Beast got his foot on the ropes, and neither Fusenshoff nor the crowd here in Charlotte can believe it!



DT: The champion was so, SO close to retaining right there, and he can not BELIEVE that the former World Champion managed to get a rope break!

DM: Neither can I, Thomas.

DT: Fusenshoff’s pulling Beast to his feet, double underhook … he’s going for the Tiger Driver! He’s got the arms hooked … but Beast won’t let him go! He’s fighting it … and backdrops the champ! And he bridges for the pin!



THRRRRRNOOO!! And now it’s Fusenshoff that has to break a hold or lose the match! What an exchange between these two warriors!

MN: Do you have like a Mad Libs Book of Crappy Announcer Cliches that you just pull out from time to time.

DM: I swear I saw it once, but he said it was a Sudoku collection.

DT: I hate my life.

MN: Then my job is done, folks. I have fulfilled my life’s work.

DT: Fusenshoff rolls away, but Beast hops right up, too! The champ turns around … GORE!!! GORE!!! GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRREEE!!!

DM: Umm, did the Brazilian National Soccer Team just score a goal?


[Right behind Neely, a group of EXTREMELY drunk guys in UNC-Charlotte t-shirts pick up on the chant, and soon enough, the soccer chant’s spread throughout the entire arena. Like The Wave, it gets annoying very, very fast. Fusenshoff, on the other hand, was hit so hard by the gore that he rolled underneath the bottom rope, forcing Beast to pull him back in and set up for another.]

DT: Beast is waiting, waiting, if he can hit one more than he’s going to be the first man in EPW history to hold the World and TV titles!

DM: And then he’ll use it as a spittoon or a bookend or something.

MN: A spittoon? Gross!

DT: Fusenshoff’s finally up … HERE COMES BEAST … GORE – NOBODY HOME!!! Fusenshoff bailed at the last second and the challenger went through the ropes and CRASHING to the mat!

MN: Time for me to say it…

DM: No. Don’t say it. You say it, I kill you.

MN: I’m gonna say it…



DM: I’m going to murder you horribly in your sleep, you know.

MN: Just try, Deano. I sleep like a ninja, ready to spring into attack at a moment’s notice.

DT: Guys? Match?

DM/MN: Sor-ree, Dave.

DT: Fusenshoff’s got Beast flattened out on the concrete floor, and he might just have to wait for a count of 10 to retain his title!

DM: Yeah, I’m thinking he won’t do that, Dave.

DT: Fusenshoff measuring up Beast as he pulls himself to his feet. The champ hits a dead sprint … takes flight … SOMERSAULT PLANCHAAAAANOOO!!!! Beast caught him on his shoulders in mid-flight! What a display of instinct and strength from the former World Champion!

MN: Uhhh … holy flurking snit?

DM: Holy flurking snit indeed, Michael.

DT: Beast has Fuse on his shoulders, what the hell is he going to do now?

DM: Nothing light and happy, I’d guess.

DT: Beast presses Fusenshoff UP … OH MY LORD! He just powerbombed the TV champ shoulder-first into the damn ring post, and Fusenshoff COLLAPSED in a heap to the floor!

DM: That shoulder’s completely separated. Beast just has to roll him in the ring and it’s elementary and … what the hell is Beast doing?

DT: Beast just had a half-empty beer tossed on him by one of our fans, and he’s going over there to give him the business! We need to get some security out here, or else Beast might try and hurt some of our paying fans!

MN: Front-row fans, too, so they either have the most money or are the biggest nerds in the universe. Either way, Loafy’ll probably put ‘em in traction for a month.


DT: Meanwhile, as security is trying to keep our wrestlers and our crowd separated, Bryan Weatherby is counting BOTH men out!






DT: Security’s finally pulled Beast away … but Fusenshoff is up! Somehow, the TV champ is up! Beast turns around … RIGHT INTO A YAKUZA KICK FROM FUSENSHOFF!!! Beast just had his jaw knocked OFF with that kick, and he’s sprawled out on the floor! Fusenshoff’s limping to get back in the ring!



DT: Fusenshoff dives! HE’S IN!


[SFX: Bell rings, crowd POPS!]

DT: Beast just let his animosity with this company cost him a shot at championship gold, and while he’s going to win by countout, this was a absolutely HEROIC performance from Fusenshoff.

DM: That’s right, Dave. The new TV champion had his shoulder damaged almost at the bell, and he fought off worsening conditions for the entire match to somehow eek out a win. This was no cheap win, he EARNED this.

TF: Ladies and gentlemen, as a result of not being able to answer the count of 10, referee Bryan Weatherby has ruled that Beast has been COUNTED OUT! Therefore, the winner of the match and STILL EPW World Television Champion … FUSENSHOOOOOOOFFFFFFF!!!

[CUEUP: “A Little Less Conversation”. Much of the crowd cheers, but there are still a great many occupying their time by taunting Beast, who is just now recovering.]

DT: We’ve got a lot more for you on Aggression, folks. STAY TUNED!


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
The second coming of.....The Second Coming

[Suddenly, a voice breaks in over the arena speakers.]

VOICE: Well well well……guess who got invited invited back to the party?

DT: Is that who I think it is?

MN: Maybe, but what would Fred Savage be doing at a wrestling show?

[At that moment, the lights in the arena go completely black. Then, the sounds of a motorcycle revving pump over the loudspeakers, followed by a steady, familiar guitar riff. A moment later, block text begins appearing on the EmpireTron.





All of a sudden, the guitars come to a crescendo in a well-known chord repetition.


Tomoyasu Hotei. “Battle Without Honor or Humanity”.

The lights come up, revealing Bryan Storms and Matt Johansson – the duo collectively known as Second Coming – standing on the stage atop the entrance man. The crowd is unsure how to react to the duo, but the Charlotte audience gives them a surprisingly loud pop.]

DT: Second Coming is BACK? We haven’t seen Bryan Storms and Matt Johansson in EPW for almost FOUR YEARS!

DM: And they left under some very well publicized and auspicious circumstances, Dave, but they’ve been making a name for themselves elsewhere and now, I guess, they’ve decided to throw their hats back in the ring in EPW.

DT: Well, Bryan Storms has a microphone, so let’s hear what he’s got to say.

[CUT-TO: Storms standing atop the ramp in his now-famous ensemble of khaki slacks, a pale blue button-down shirt and blue tined sunglasses. He soaks in the reaction for a moment, then brings the microphone to his face.]

Bryan Storms: Hey, remember us?

[The crowd, now fully realizing what has happened, ROARS in approval.]

Bryan Storms: Guess so.

For those of you who haven’t been paying attention, I’m Bryan Storms, this man next to me is Matt Johansson, and together we comprise Second Coming, the single most staggering combination of tag team talent that the universe has ever witnessed. We are Your New Favorite Wrestlers, and as of this moment, we are BACK in Empire Pro Wrestling to finally come right out and TAKE what we never got a chance at four years ago.

And, lucky for us, this time we don’t have to go through Christian Sands and Lindsay Troy, we don’t have to go through Blitz or the Cameron Cruise Project or the dude with The Claw and his equally freaky freakazoid of a partner.

We just have to go through the two Goth kids from high school who never quite grew up.

Fee-Red, Firsticle, you two might’ve waltzed through the collection of stoners, Commies and other various and sundry Looney Tunes that have populated the tag team scene around this place since we left, but we guarantee you – we guarantee you ONE HUNDRED PERCENT – that you have never in your life come across the kind of otherworldly wrestling ability that Matty and I have an annoying tendency of showcasing.

Four years ago, I screwed up, and I screwed up badly. For that, I lost my job, and I lost my partner’s job. But, if the long and storied history of professional wrestling has taught us anything at all, it’s that everyone gets a second chance.

It took four years, but guess what? Our number just turned up. Our second chance? It’s just been cashed in, and this time, no manner of freak, weirdo or comic book character is going to stop us from FINALLY staking our claim atop the wrestling world.

[The crowd cheers, as Bryan begins pacing back and forth across the stage, never taking his eyes across the ramp.]

Bryan Storms: I’ve atoned for my mistakes, folks, and now it’s time that Matt and I get down to what we do best; outclassing each and every duo that EPW management wants to throw at us until they don’t have a CHOICE but to put us in the ring with these two Sad Clowns for the Tag Team Titles.

Our champs talk a big game about being Forsaken, about being an ultimate, dominant force, and frankly it all sounds about as sincere and convincing as Nakita Dahakaboomshakalaka talking about how she’s got UNNATURAL EVIL POWERZ~!

Seriously, boys, the two of you have bought into your own shtick so damn much right now that Cameron Cruise can’t even bring himself to tell you how much of a reality check you need. It’s gotten to the point where it’s not even funny anymore, kiddies!

Okay, it’s still pretty damn funny, but I’d stop anyway, because pretty soon, the two of you ARE going to get your asses kicked, and that won’t be a laughing matter.

Rest on your laurels for now, Forsaken. You’ve still got a little bit of time. But, please realize that the clock is ticking. Every moment that goes by is another moment that those tag team championships are coming closer to our waists. Every moment that goes by is one more moment until you two get in the ring with us and you get …

[Johansson, who previously had been playing to the crowd, sprints over and rips the microphone from Storms’ hand, all the while sporting a gigantic smile.]

Matt Johansson: PWNED~!~!!!~!!!!!~~~!!!~!!!~!!!!~!

[CUEUP: “Battle Without Honor or Humanity” as Bryan and Matt walk back through the curtain, leaving the Forsaken still confused in the ring as we fade to commercial.]


Sep 11, 1997
Katy, TX
Stalker vs. Troy Douglas

[We go to the ring, where Tony Fatora stands in the center of the ring with the mic in his hand.]

TF: Ladies and gentlemen… the following contest is our MAIN EVENT of the evening!

[“I Did My Time” by Korn hits the PA. The audience BOOS LOUDLY as Stalker appears on the stage, sans light show or pyro. He grins sadistically into the crowd as he makes his way to the ring.]

TF: Introducing first… from Seattle, Washington… he weighs in at 224 pounds… HERE IS… SSSTAAAAALLLKKKEERRR!!!

DT: And less than favorable response for the sadistic JASON REEVES, a.k.a. STALKER, who earlier tonight promised he would END THE CAREER of the World Heavyweight Champion, Rocko Daymon!

DM: Honestly, there’s NO REASON why Rocko should EVER grant this talentless bum a title shot! ESPECIALLY after that video he revealed earlier! What the hell was that… he’s now a LITERAL Stalker, watching the Daymon family like that! It’s just… CREEPY!

DT: That’s hardly scratching the surface, Dean…

MN: Don’t forget the exclusive content at Caitlyngonewild.com!!

DT: Mike… stop using your work-issued laptop to look up pornography!

DM: Yeah, if Rocko catches you with that, he’s gonna break that over your head!

DT: I can’t imagine what he’ll do to STALKER once he gets his hands on him…

[Stalker goes through his regular routine of slipping into the ring and sitting in a corner… and moments later, “You Know My Name” by Chris Cornell hits the PA. Troy Douglas’ video package plays on the Emipre Tron, and the Charlotte, North Carolina fans POP TO THEIR FEET!!]

TF: And his opponent… hailing from Greensboro, NORTH CAROLINA, and weighing in at 260 pounds… he is the EPW INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION… HE IS…


[THREE LOUD CANNON BLASTS peal over the audience, followed by a MASSIVE pyro as the song enters its chorus and Troy Douglas, proudly bearing the IC Title, strides out onto the stage pumping his fists into the air and getting a DEAFENING reaction from the North Carolina fans in attendance.]

DT: THE INTERCONTINENTAL CHAMPION IS HERE in his home state of North Carolina, and would you LISTEN to this reaction?!

DM: A warm homecoming for this fellow Tar Heel, and what better way to come home than with the EPW Intercontinental Title wrapped around your waist?

DT: Troy Douglas has been with EPW since the BEGINNING, and winning that title from the Sergeant at Black Dawn was the PERFECT culmination to all those years of hard work and perseverance!

MN: Would you guys cut it out?! The only reason why MEGATRON didn’t win was because Sarge didn’t go for the ol’ chair-to-head technique!

DM: That shouldn’t be an effective winning strategy to begin with, though that was a highly emotional match, and it was great to see Douglas finally step up and win one for himself!

DT: I hear you on that…

[Douglas enters the ring and promptly scales a turnbuckle, pumping both fists into the air and getting a HUGE REACTION from the North Carolina audience! He switches off to another turnbuckle for a SECOND BIG POP!! When his music ends, he hands the belt off to the referee and goes to his corner, stretching against the ropes. While his back is turned, Stalker suddenly comes to his feet and makes a BEELINE toward his opponent!]

DT: OH WAIT, HERE COMES STALKER, just BLINDSIDING the Intercontinental Champion before senior official Pat Jones can ring the bell! He didn’t even give him a CHANCE!

DM: The main event is underway, and already Stalker looks to be gaining an early advantage with a barrage of VICIOUS closed-fist punches on Troy Douglas! Stalker’s giving him every knuckle worth, and Douglas can do little more than hold up his arms and wait for the referee to intervene!

DT: I think Stalker needs to have those EARS cleaned out, cause he certainly doesn’t seem to be hearing Pat Jones’ STERN warnings to watch the closed-fist punches!

MN: Well hey, give the guy a break! He lived in a gutter for a few years… you can’t just expect his hygiene to be on the level.

DT: Stalker is fighting without holding anything back, and now drives his FOREARM across the throat of Troy Douglas, CHOKING THE LIFE OUT OF HIM until the ref reaches the count of three and a half and Stalker MERCIFULLY backs off!

DM: Well at least he’s not COMPLETELY ignorant of the rules!

MN: Bah, who needs rules??

DT: Douglas gasping for air, and a bit stunned at that surprise attack… but Stalker gives him not a second of rest as he closes in and goes for an Irish Whip out of the corner—and Douglas REVERSES! Stalker CONNECTS with the opposite corner, and here’s Douglas… greets him with a HIP TOSS that bounces him off the mat!

DM: Great comeback by the IC Champ! But Stalker POPS to his feet and SCREAMS FORWARD with a FOREARM SMASH that Douglas didn’t see coming!

MN: Watch him comeback from THAT, Dean!

DT: Here come the BOOTS to Troy Douglas as an ENRAGED Stalker takes his anger out on the Intercontinental Champion! Must’ve been a blow to his unhinged ego to have Douglas bounce back so quickly.

DM: Knowing what he went through to become the IC Champ, it shouldn’t be any surprise. Douglas will ALWAYS come back and ask for more, much to the ire of his opponents, because he REFUSES to stay down!

DT: Stalker, finally has had enough of kicking away at his prone opponent… now he has Troy Douglas by the HAIR and pulls him to his feet! Going to the ropes—AND HE THROWS DOUGLAS RIGHT OVER!! Oh no, WAIT!! Douglas, HANGING ON to the top rope with his fingertips, manages to stay on the apron!

DM: And Stalker is none the wiser, now arguing with referee Pat Jones about the pulling of the hair, his back pointed RIGHT at Troy Douglas, now sliding back under the ropes and into the ring!

MN: Come on, Stalker, turn around!

DT: He’s too busy going into detail about how he could literally EAT the referee’s face… and that gives Douglas plenty of time to get into the three-point stance! He’s got Stalker in his sights… and now the crazed one turns around—

DM: OH MAN, and goes RIGHT INTO ZERO G’S as Troy Douglas FLIPS HIIM THROUGH THE AIR with that charging clothesline!! That put Stalker in La-La Land and put these FANS back into the match!

DT: Stalker back on his feet, disoriented… walks straight into a SCOOP SLAM from Douglas, who beckons him back to his feet! Stalker up again… a SECOND Scoop Slam… and STILL, Stalker gets to his feet in a daze!

DM: Well why the hell not? Douglas with a BOOT to the gut… puts Stalker down definitively with a SWINGING NECKBREAKER, and quickly floats over for the cover!

DT: One…


No dice! Douglas back on his feet, shaking his jaw after that unforeseen assault at the beginning of the match. You really have to give him credit for keeping his poise and being able to overcome Stalker’s extremely BRUTAL approach to this sport!

DM: That’s what makes him the champ, Dave.

MN: No, he’s the champ because that dumbass Sergeant DIDN’T USE THE CHAIR!!

DT: Let’s just hope STALKER doesn’t get any similar ideas, as he now gets to his feet, shaking out the cobwebs. Douglas is already on him, taking him by the arm and WHIPPING him to the ropes! Stalker on his way back… telegraphs a CLOTHESLINE, but Douglas CATCHES HIM and rolls him to the mat with a BACKSLIDE PIN!!



And another kickout by Stalker!

DM: Stalker looks like he’s getting flustered now! Back on his feet, with an ANGRY kick to the—NO!! Caught by DOUGLAS, who instead flips him around… transitions BEAUTIFULLY into a Back Suplex! And all Stalker can do to avoid this offense is roll under the ropes to the outside and regain his bearings!

DT: Looks like Stalker’s initial strategy to get down and dirty is backfiring as Troy Douglas forces him to wrestle!

DM: Hey, it’s the art of the ring! If Stalker can’t take it, he’s got no business being in there…

MN: You have NO IDEA what the hell you’re talking about, Dean! “Blah blah blah, WRESTLING!! Blah blah blah, TECHNICAL!!” Screw that! Jason Reeves represents the finest in EXTREME wrestling, and whether you love it or hate it, there’s a devout audience for that kind of thing!

DM: Bah… “extreme” is dead.

DT: Referee Pat Jones is on the count of six as Stalker continues to pace on the outside of the ring, watched very intently by his opponent, who stands waiting in the center of the ring. Here’s Stalker slipping in—but DOUGLAS comes right at him, forcing him back to the outside!

DM: Stalker needs to get something going on here. He couldn’t have just come into this match with attacking Douglas before the bell as his ONLY strategy!

MN: Whatever happened to the best strategy being NO strategy!?

DM: That NEVER happened, Neels.

DT: Pat Jones at five once again… Stalker taking his time while the Intercontinental Champion watches him like a hawk. Here’s Stalker back on the apron, and Douglas once again advances—NO!! Stalker with a SHOULDER THRUST through the ropes that Troy didn’t see coming! And that gives the crazed one the opportunity to grab the IC Champion by the HAIR and RIP HIM out of the ring!

MN: Oh yeah, DOWN AND DIRTY like it oughta be! Now you’re gonna see what EXTREME can do, Dean-O!

DM: Shut it, Mike…

DT: Regardless, Dean, Mike carries a point in this being Stalker’s forte! Douglas looking a little stunned after that bump to the outside, and it gives Stalker the opportunity to BOUNCE his forehead off of the apron with VICIOUS force!


DT: Douglas reeling after that blow to the head, and Stalker quickly grabs him from the side… pulls back for a RUSSIAN LEGSWEEP RIGHT INTO THE BARRICADE!!

MN: Aw yeah, that’s HARDCOOOORRREE!!

DT: Stalker bringing his opponent to his feet again… hooks him for a SECOND RUSSIAN LEGSWEEP into the barricade!! He’s sucking the LIFE right out of those ringside Charlotte fans watching their local hero take a beating like this!

DM: It’d be wise to remember that Troy Douglas has suffered through a LOT worse than this!

DT: Well, Stalker may soon be upping the ante as he peels Douglas off the barricade… takes him by the arm—WHIP RIGHT INTO THE STEPS!! What a SICKENING collision of flesh and steel crashing into one another!

MN: Hoo hoo, daddy, that’s INTEEENNNSSEE!!

DT: Stalker continuing the punishment, and Troy Douglas is just in too much PAIN to do anything about it right now! He’s got Douglas by the arm once again… pointing him right to that STEEL POST with the WHIP—AND DOUGLAS REVERSES!! OH MAN, Stalker just went FACE FIRST into that post and it laid him out COLD!!

MN: Wakka wakka, that’s—


DT: Seriously, you’re giving me a headache.

MN: Isn’t that what I’m PAID to do?

DM: The fact that you get a paycheck for just sitting there and saying NOTHING important worries me to no end. Let’s just put our focus back on the match as Troy Douglas regains himself and slips back into the ring, while Stalker, coming to, dawdles as he comes to his feet. Looks like Douglas has something PLANNED here!

DT: I’ll say, Dean! Douglas holding onto the top rope, waiting for Stalker to come to his feet… and VAULTS TO THE OUTSIDE with a BODY PRESS—AND STALKER STEPS TO THE SIDE!! OH MAN, Douglas just took a BELLYFLOP to the mat outside!

DM: That could have done some SERIOUS damage to his rips, Dave… and perhaps Stalker realizes this too, cause that’s where he’s currently KICKING the Intercontinental Champion while he lies on the ground in pain!

MN: You can knock his style of wrestling all you want, Dean, but it GETS THE JOB DONE, and that’s all that matters.

DT: Well, Stalker’s trying to get the job done NOW as he pulls Douglas off the mat and rolls him back into the ring. Douglas trying to make it to his feet, but Stalker slips in at his blindspot… waits for him to stand—AND KNOCKS THE SPIT OUT OF HIS MOUTH with a RUNNING KNEE LIFT!! GOOD NIGHT!!

MN: Need further proof, Dean-O?

DM: Let’s see if he can keep Douglas’ shoulders down for the three…

DT: Here’s Stalker with his first pin in the match…



NO!! A kickout by Troy Douglas!

DM: Just as I predicted.

DT: A punishing match thus far. Undeterred, Stalker pulls Douglas back to his feet to keep the offense going… and there’s a nasty WHIP to the corner! Douglas connects HARD, and Stalker follows—NAILS HIM with a heavy CLOTHESLINE—and that goes RIGHT INTO A BULLDOG!!

DM: A surprisingly solid combo from Stalker… but is it enough to keep Douglas DOWN?

DT: I guess we’re about to see as Stalker hooks the leg for the pin!



NO!! The Intercontinental Champion kicks out once again! But how much longer can he hold out under the dominant WRATH of Stalker?

DM: He needs to regain his momentum quickly, or any hopes of a win here in front of his N.C. fans will quickly be defenestrated!

MN: …“defenestrated?!” WHAT?

DM: Look it up, Mike.

DT: Stalker, keeping the heat on, as he gets the IC Champion to his feet. Douglas is looking a little exhausted now, and it’s becoming harder and harder for him to defend himself properly from these frequently STIFF attacks from Stalker! Stalker has him around the waist… looking for a GERMAN SUPLEX—OH, but Douglas PITCHES FORWARD and rolls Stalker’s shoulders to the MAT!



And a KICKOUT by Stalker after that near fall!

DM: Oh, Reeves wasn’t happy about that, Dave! Here he comes tearing to his feet… and Douglas, OH!! Walks right into a KNEE from Stalker that was going into his abdomen that sends him tumbling to the mat! Douglas nearly had that turned around, but failed to take into account his opponent’s short temper!

DT: Stalker is DEFINITELY giving Troy Douglas something to remember him by in this match! This is sure to leave a mark… now he has the Intercontinental Champion’s NECK over the second rope, and DRIVES that knee right into his back! Come on, listen to the ref, and BREAK IT UP!! He’s cutting off his air supply!

MN: Eh, it’s not like much oxygen goes to Douglas’ brain anyhow…

DT: The referee finally ORDERS him off, and Stalker breaks the hold, but he’s testing Pat Jones’ patience with his BLATANT disregard for the rules! Jones gives him a stern warning, but you just KNOW it’s in one ear and out the other.

DM: Probably why this bum dropped outta high school…

MN: Hey, just because somebody dropped out of high school, it doesn’t automatically mean they’re a BUM!

DT: Back in the ring… Stalker disrespectfully blows off senior official Pat Jones, coming back to Douglas as he comes to his feet. Stalker going for a SCOOP SLAM—BUT DOUGLAS SLIPS DOWN HIS BACK!!

DM: HE SLAPS ON A DRAGON SLEEPER!! Oh man, that came from NOWHERE!! I wonder if he was playing possum this entire time!

DT: Stalker is FRANTICALLY trying to break free, but the IC Champion has him pinned down near the center of the ring! Imagine the EXCRUCIATING feeling he has in his back and neck right now… and it’s no wonder we see him now trying to INCH his way to the ropes!

DM: Oh yeah, I bet he’ll be BEGGING the ref to break that hold right away! I bet those danged old RULES we supposedly don’t need sound pretty good right now, huh Mike?

MN: Bah…

DT: Stalker within distance… Douglas looking for a leg-scissor on the body to keep him held down, but Stalker SQUIRMS free! He KNOWS he’s in a tight spot, and not willing to get dragged back away from them ropes!

DM: THERE!! His foot tagged the bottom rope… just barely. OOH! And Troy Douglas just DROPS him on the back of his head! How’s it feel, Stalker?

DT: A pleased reaction from his local fanbase… Troy Douglas standing back and letting Stalker come to his feet on his own power. He’s showing he can survive when Stalker fights at his level! Being a survivor is what put the Intercontinental Title around his waist!

MN: Yeah, after FOUR YEARS of choking!

DM: A thing of the past now, and Troy Douglas is MORE than willing to silence those who continue to doubt him! Let’s see what he’s got in store for Stalker now as he brings him back to his feet, hardly giving him time to recover from that Dragon Sleeper. There’s the hook around the face… and the leg… lifts off into a BEAUTIFUL Fisherman Suplex with a bridge pin!

DT: Could see a pinfall right here!



NO!! A collective sigh of disappointment from the audience as Stalker kicks out!

MN: See! SEE! He can hang in there, TOO!

DM: Meh…

DT: Troy Douglas has this match back in his control, and all he needs to do now is keep Stalker from regaining that dangerous momentum…

DM: Or better yet, find a way to just finish him off! Douglas bringing Stalker back to his feet… there’s a whip—AND A REVERSAL from Stalker! Douglas returning, and NAILS Stalker with an elbow to the back as he goes for the Back Body Drop attempt! Douglas setting him up… and DRILLS HIM WITH A CRADLE PILEDRIVER!!




THRE—OH NO!! Stalker continues to kick out!

DM: Sometimes, that guy can be a cockroach…

MN: Now you’re just stealing my lines, Dean-O! I practically INVENTED the “cockroach” tag!

DM: Yeah, and I just effectively STOLE IT!!

DT: Troy Douglas continuing to stay in control of this match… giving Stalker every last bit of his energy to put him on the mat for the count of three! What’s he have planned next?! Bringing Stalker to his feet… OH!! There’s a sidekick that bounces Stalker off the ropes—AND RIGHT INTO AN STO from the Intercontinental Champion!

DM: But he ain’t done, Dave! Douglas quickly bouncing to his feet, and now climbing to the top rope! High-risk maneuver coming up… AND DOUGLAS DIVES!!

DT: BIIIIIIG DIVING HEADBUTT into the STERNUM of STALKER!! Oh man, that HAS to be it!! Here’s Douglas with the pin…




MN: How about THAT, Dean-O!

DM: It’s a sign of persistence, okay, but Douglas has him RIGHT where he wants him right now!

DT: Right on that one, Dean, as Troy Douglas, UNDETERRED, brings Stalker back to his feet! There’s a HIGH-ANGLE SPINEBUSTER that SHAKES the ring… and now this capacity crowd is going WILD AS DOUGLAS SETS HIM UP FOR THE SCORPION DEATHLOCK!!





THREE—OH NO!! A DESPERATE KICKOUT by Troy Douglas, who nearly let this match slip through his fingers!

DM: He ain’t gonna let that happen a second time!! Douglas back up, meets Stalker with a CHOP across the chest… now he’s looking for a chinlock to keep him down—but Stalker sinks his hands in and REVERSES with a CHICKENWING—RIGHT INTO A GARGOYLE SUPLEX!! Man, looks like that bum has some wrestling talent after all!!

MN: See, he just whips it out when he needs it. Or just when he wants to make it look inferior.

DT: Troy Douglas in a bad situation now as he tries to get to his feet… but Stalker meets him with a HARD toe to the stomach… hooks both arms, and JUST PANCAKES THE IC CHAMP with a Double-Underhook Suplex!!

DM: Douglas was doing so well… and then…


DT: What? What’s he want to say?

MN: Douglas CHOKED!! He CHOKED like he always does, and now Stalker’s ready to finish him off!

DT: We’ll just see about that! Stalker bringing Douglas to his feet… BIG WHIP TO THE CORNER that just knocks the WIND right out of Troy’s lungs! Wait, Stalker going to the opposite corner… he’s signaling for Rocko Daymon’s patented BACK-FIRST SPLASH!!

DM: Oh man, first the video of his home and family, and now copping his moves! Stalker is REALLY doing everything he can to insult the World Heavyweight Champion here tonight!

DT: Stalker charging forward… NO!! DOUGLAS DASHES TO THE SIDE, and Stalker goes BACK-FIRST into nothing but a HARD CORNER!! And wait, Douglas with a boot to the gut… AND SETS STALKER UP TO THE TOP ROPE!!


DT: Douglas pumping up to the second rope and hooks one of Stalker’s arms, getting this screaming crowd into it—OH NO!! LOW BLOW!! LOW BLOW FROM STALKER’S FREE ARM!!

MN: HAHAHAHAHA!! Looks like he forgot to hook THAT one!

DM: Douglas coughing up on the mat, and Jones just RINGS THE BELL!! SCREW THAT!!

[The bell rings and the fans BOO LOUDLY!!]

TF: Ladies and gentlemen… Senior Official Pat Jones has DISQUALIFIED Stalker from this competition! As a result… here is your winner—

[Fatora doesn’t finish as he suddenly finds himself ON THE GROUND, having his seat taken under him from Stalker!]

DT: What’s Stalker doing here on the outside now?!

MN: Use your brain, Dave! Chair plus Stalker equals OUCH!!

DM: Stalker’s bringing that chair with him back into the ring… come on, now, the match is over!!

DT: Troy Douglas has done NOTHING to deserve a beating! Here’s Pat Jones, ordering Stalker from the ring—


Crowd: BOOOOOO!!!!


DM: OH, COME ON!! He’s just doing his job!

MN: Shoulda chose to flip burgers!

DT: Wait a second, Stalker putting his attention back on Troy Douglas… sets the chair up in the middle of the ring! Come on, somebody STOP this!!

DM: Stalker bringing the Intercontinental Champion to his feet! Whips him to the ropes—DROP TOE HOLD!! OH MAN, DOUGLAS GOES FACE FIRST INTO THAT STEEL CHAIR!!

DT: What an INSULT to the Intercontinental Champion and his local North Carolina fans, who are CLEARLY unhappy to see the victory of their hero RUINED by this DISPECABLE man!

DM: And he isn’t DONE, Dave! Stalker setting the chair flat on the mat… Douglas is somewhere else, but now Stalker bring him back to his feet… he’s looking for an EVENFLOW ON THE CHAIR!!

DT: Oh no, come on, the match is OVER!!

MN: Nobody to help him now!

[“DEATH IS THIS COMMUNION” booms over the PA! The crowd POPS WILDLY as Stalker suddenly looks to the stage… and a FURIOUS ROCKO DAYMON stomps out, sternly making his way down the ramp and ripping off his t-shirt, eyes fixated on the man in the ring!]

DM: Time to eat those words, Mike!


DM: And man, he looks PISSED!! I’d be too after seeing that video of Stalker’s!!

[Stalker TOSSES Troy Douglas aside as Rocko slides into the ring. As soon as he comes to his feet, both men COLLIDE in a flurry of rights and lefts!]

DT: OH MAN, IT’S THE BRAWL TO END THEM ALL between Daymon and Stalker!! Both men FEROCIOUSLY burying each other’s knuckles into the others’ face! There’s sweat and blood flying ALL OVER THE PLACE!!

DM: These men have been wanting to beat the hell out of each other for some time, and Rocko Daymon has HAD ENOUGH!!

Crowd: POP!!!

DT: And it’s the Champion, ROCKO DAYMON, getting the UPPER HAND!!

MN: Oh yeah, beat up on a guy after a MATCH when he’s TIRED!

DM: That’s beside the point, Neels. Stalker has had this beat-down coming for a LONG time!

DT: Stalker can HARDLY defend himself from the ONSLAUGHT of BIG, FACE-CRUSHING RIGHT HANDS from the World Champion! He’s bouncing Stalker off the ropes as if his chin were his own PUNCHING BAG!!

DM: Rocko, switching from rights to left… ONE… TWO… HERE COMES THE DISCUS PUNCH—OH NO!! Stalker DUCKS and drops the champion to the outside!

MN: HAHAHAHA!! Talk about taking the wind out of your sails…

[Daymon successfully lands on his feet, but is now looking up at a laughing Stalker back in the ring. Stalker turns around… and the Charlotte fans EXPLODE as TROY DOUGLAS sprints at him!]

DT: AND HERE’S DOUGLAS WITH A LARIAT!! Oh man, he just sent STALKER to the outside!!

DM: And right at the feet of Rocko Daymon, who continues the punishment!

[Standing tall in the ring, Pat Jones raises the arm of Troy Douglas and hands him the EPW Intercontinental Title before quickly jumping out of the ring to join the other officials storming the ringside area trying to break up the brawl. “You Know My Name” by Chris Cornell hits the PA as the Intercontinental Champion scales to the second rope and holds his arms HIGH over the cheering mass of Charlotte, North Carolina fans!]

TF: Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner… the Empire Pro Intercontinental Champion… TTRROOOOOYYYY DDOOOOOUUUUUGGLLLAASSS!!!

DM: Well, he didn’t win quite the way he wanted to, but he’s the man standing tall in that ring, and these North Carolina fans are MORE than pleased to see their local champion in this way!

DT: It’s what they came to see, Dean! Troy Douglas is the standing example of how four years of hard work and dedication to this sport CAN pay off!

MN: Why the hell are we still talking about “Troy Douglas”?! Get a load of this slobber-knocker out here by the ring!

DT: Oh my, looks like the officials are having some trouble breaking these two up!

DM: Can you blame them?!

[It takes three white-shirted ring officials on either man to pry the two apart. Even then, the audience CHEERS IN EXCITEMENT as Rocko Daymon EFFORTLESSLY tosses aside the men holding his arms back, and LUNGES upon Stalker once again, hands fiercely trying to wrap around his neck!]

DT: WHOA!! I don’t think ANY form of manpower is going to split these two up!

DM: I think the officials finally realize that, Dave, as they’re now backing off and letting these two at it! Even Troy Douglas has come out of the ring and is pulling people aside, trying to PROTECT them from these two reckless brawlers!!

DT: OOOoohh… Daymon just CLOCKED Stalker with a HARD forearm to the face that just put him dazed on the floor! Is that the end of it then?

DM: Looks like he’s going for a mic…

[The audience quiets as Daymon takes the mic from Fatora and point right at Stalker as he’s picking himself off the ground and the wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth. Rocko doesn’t seem to notice he’s wearing color himself from a cut over his eye as a result of the fracas.]

Daymon: Reeves, you CRAZY SON OF A *****!! You want me THAT BAD?!


Tonight, YOUR career is effectively OVER!!

[The audience POPS WILDLY as Daymon drops the mic and CHARGES AT STALKER while he comes to his feet!]

DM: I guess it’s NOT over!! OOH MAN!! Daymon just PLOWED into Stalker like a FREIGHT TRAIN that sent both men tumbling over the barricade!

DT: Daymon is out for BLOOD tonight! Ladies and gentlemen… this is an unscheduled fight between both men! Our broadcast was supposed to end a minute ago, but obviously something BIG is going down between these two individuals! We’ll try to stay with this as long as we can!

MN: Yeah, until the network producers call up and threaten to give us a 3 AM timeslot!

DM: That can’t be good for our ratings…

DT: I hardly think either of these bitter enemies CARE at this point as they now carry their blood feud into the AUDIENCE!!

[Members of security quickly flock into the crowd and part the ocean of fans as Daymon, mounted over Stalker, BURIES fist after hammering fist into his bruised and broken face, cutting open many old scars and creating several new ones!]

DM: Boy, those fans who shelled out the extra cash for ringside seats are REALLY getting their money’s worth now!

DT: That’s an understatement, Dean! I think EVERYBODY here in attendance is about to bear witness to something MONUMENTAL… and our fans watching at home may MISS OUT if this isn’t wrapped up soon enough!

MN: Daymon’s going for a CHAIR!! Hey, where’s Douglas? Is he still around? Somebody tell him to take notes!!

[Daymon leaves a stunned and sputtering Stalker on the floor, folding up many of the steel folding chairs set up for the ringside fans and yanking his foe to his feet by his clumped hair. Stalker gets an arm up…]


[…but it BARELY pads the force of the chair SWUNG INTO HIM with full force, knocking him OFF HIS FEET and into five more chairs set up behind him!]

Crowd: OOOOooooohhh…

DT: Rocko Daymon is like a MAN POSSESSED!!

DM: Well, knowing pathetic perverted bastards like MIKE are probably out there whacking it to him and Caitlyn right now probably doesn’t sit well with him.

MN: Hey now!! Number one, I might be pathetic, but I’m HARDLY perverted! Number two, if I had a video of MYSELF on the internet boning a chick as hot as Caitlyn, I’d be STOKED!!


DT: OH MAN!! ANOTHER chair shot from Rocko Daymon that sends Stalker FLAILING into a crowd of onlookers! This is getting a bit close to our loyal fans!

MN: Well, you SAID they were getting their money’s worth!

[Stalker is on his feet once again, teetering in place. Rocko brings the chair back for another strike, when Stalker suddenly reaches out and pulls a young teenaged fan out in front of him! Daymon is already mid-swing, but abruptly STOPS inches away from the kid’s face! His sudden hesitation is all Stalker needs to grab a chair of his own and CLOCK the World Heavyweight Champion across the face while he stands with his mouth agape!!]



MN: Why the hell was he STALLING?!

DM: He wasn’t going to HIT A FAN, Mike! There’s no reason why anybody else should be hurt because of Stalker’s ridiculous mind games!

DT: What a COWARD for using that fan as a human shield!

MN: You call HIM a coward when Rocko assaults him after a tough match?!

DM: How many times has STALKER attacked ROCKO after a match??

MN: That’s beside the point…



DT: OH MAN!! STALKER IS COMPLETELY UNHINGED!! He’s just putting CHAIR after CHAIR into Daymon’s back as he tries to push himself off the ground!

DM: No doubt, he’s trying to KILL the man that beat him seven years ago!!

[Daymon’s broad back is a bruised and bleeding mess, but Stalker, savagely CURSING at the top of his lungs, shows no mercy as he DRIVES the top of the chair down onto Daymon’s spine and presses his boot down on the back of Daymon’s head, trying to crush it like a melon!]

DT: Daymon’s in a dangerous position now!! Stalker is going to fulfill his promise in ENDING his career tonight!! But wait… HERE COME THE FANS!!

DM: Security can’t hold them back!!

[Coming to the champion’s rescue are at least a dozen loyal ringside fans who BURST through the barrier of security officials and flock around Stalker, grabbing his arms and quickly disarming him! Stalker promptly turns his wrath from Rocko to the FANS, knocking a few of them OUT with hard shots to the face that send them yelping and crying out in pain!]


MN: Well, they shoulda kept out of this!! If you don’t want to leave a wrestling show with a black eye… DON’T TOUCH THEM!!

DT: Security’s trying to get a hold of this situation as quick as they can… and I’m now being told that the network is ORDERING us to end broadcast!

DM: Well, ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of Dave Thomas and Mike Neely, I’m Dean Matthews, and we’ll see you—

DT: BUT WAIT!! We’re getting the order from our OWN production crew to keep following this skirmish! To hell with the network, we’re giving the FANS what they want to see!!

MN: This is gonna take a bite out of paychecks… I can see it already!

[Stalker continues pummeling the fans as both teenagers and security guards FRENZY in the ringside area! Rocko Daymon, coming to his feet, sees the carnage and quickly pulls a few fans aside to make way as he THROTTLES HIMSELF into Stalker, knocking him to the floor and out of the mob of disorderly fans! Security quickly forms an arm-linked barrier to keep the two brawlers out of the audience!]

DT: This fight is getting WAY out of control, but continues, nevertheless, and neither of these men are willing to STOP until the other is DEAD or SOMETHING SIMILAR!

MN: Comatose?

DT: I wouldn’t doubt it… both men back to their feet, letting the FISTS FLY!!

DM: Man, they’re faces look like HAMBURGER!! Now Daymon’s pressing Stalker up the steps, trying to get this brawl AWAY from the fans and everybody else getting involved!!

DT: OOOHHH NOOO!! Stalker ABRUPTLY takes Daymon by the head and drives his NECK over the safety rail!!

MN: Kinda ironic, considering how that rail was put in place for SAFETY!!

DT: Stalker’s got Daymon by the leg… and begins DRAGGING HIM UP THOSE UNFORGIVING CONCRETE STAIRS!! The champion’s head takes a damaging BOUNCE with every step!!

[Stalker carries Daymon the rest of the way up the stairs until they’re standing right outside one of the gates. Security finally has the opportunity to block the fighting off from the crowd as Stalker takes Daymon by the hair and drags him through the gate, followed only by the lone camera following the action. Stalker tries to get Daymon to his feet, who promptly rallies and BLOWS STALKER AWAY with a Discus Punch that knocks him back into the tiled wall!]

DT: And Rocko Daymon BITES BACK!! Daymon’s on him like flies on honey, and now he’s got both hands in Stalker’s hair and he’s turning that tile into POWDER WITH STALKER’S CRANIUM!!


DM: Does he deserve anything LESS?!

[Daymon continues BASHING Stalker’s head into the wall, leaving a blood-spattered divot among the white tiles, screaming like a BANSHEE until Stalker goes limp and crumbles in a heap at his feet. Daymon is left breathing heavily, walking further up the ramp…]

DT: Oh, thank God it’s OVER!! Somebody check on Stalker… my God, it’d be a wonder if his brains weren’t coming out of the back of his head right now!

DM: Quick, Dave, the network’s SCREAMING AT US right now!

DT: Right, right… ladies and gentlemen, for Dean and Mike, this is Dave Thomas, we’ll see—


[A bloody hand grabs Rocko by the shoulder and FLIPS him around! Before he can react, Stalker’s BOOT is in his stomach…]

DT: EVENFLOOOOWWWW!!! Oh man, Stalker just DESTROYED the World Champion with that snap DDT!!

DM: Tell me it’s over!

DT: I think NOT, Dean!

[Stalker grabs the unconscious Rocko Daymon to his feet and drags him further through the gate, into the lobby, where the entire far wall is made up of large floor-to-ceiling double-pane windows. Stalker eyes them with some sinister delight.]

DT: Oh my God, please tell me he isn’t thinking of what I THINK he’s thinking of!

DM: Dave…

DT: Stalker picking Rocko Daymon off the ground and onto his shoulders! My God, THROUGH THE WINDOW?!

DM: We HAVE to go off the air, NOW!!

MN: Hey Dean, remember when you asked me what DEFENESTRATION meant?


[Stalker holds Daymon on his shoulders, and begins SPRINTING toward the near window with a rebel yell! Daymon’s eyes flutter open as they pass by the camera, and out of desperation, Rocko REACHES FOR IT!! The fans at home view a world of BLURS as the camera swings around and ends up going into Stalker’s FACE, who curses madly as he collapses to the crowd! The camera rolls for a moment and goes to static as it hits the ground. The audio picks up a scuffle and the sound of glass breaking.]

DT: Oh no, our camera is down!

DM: We gotta go to black…

DT: Not yet, come on, somebody get another camera out there!!

DM: Dave, this is serious! The network is SCREAMING AT US!!

MN: Yeah, Dave! Think about the fans who want to watch their CSI: Special Victims Unit, or whatever crap comes on after this!


[Our view returns as a camera hurries through a doorway and into the parking lot, quickly pitching it’s view skyward and catching the window where the action continues to happen! The fans CHEER as we see Rocko Daymon back in control, fiercely RAMMING Stalker’s face into the glass window pane repeatedly, causing a spiderweb of fractures to spread out from the point of impact!]

DT: That window looks like it could give way at any minute! But Stalker nearly looks DEAD!!

[Stalker is finally limp and unmoving, perhaps even not breathing, and Daymon tosses his beaten figure out of view. With labored breathing, the World Champion leans on the glass window overlooking the parking lot below, victorious.]

DM: Good, Rocko won the fight, can we GO TO BLACK ALREADY?!

DT: Okay, fine… ladies and gentlemen, we’re the broadcast team, this is Aggression, tune in next time when—



[Like a Die Hard villain, STALKER, seemingly back from the dead, PLOWS INTO DAYMON AND CARRIES HIM THROUGH THE GLASS!! There’s a RAIN of glass shards as both men tumble over the edge!! Many fans in the arena SCREAM IN TERROR!!]


[The camera, never leaving the two enemies, zooms in on Rocko Daymon as he clings to the edge of the window, palms of his hand DIGGING into a blade of glass, while Stalker continues to cling around his waist, trying to drag him down! Both men are in a state of absolute limbo as Daymon DESPERATELY tries to climb back inside!]

DM: By his fingertips, and STALKER’S there with him, but… Dave, we’re going off NOW!

DT: Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Dave—

[The audio abruptly cuts out as we’re given a lasting image of Rocko Daymon hanging by his fingertips… when a pair of jeans and cowboy boots suddenly appear right above his head. With a beacon of hope in sight, Daymon reaches up with his free arm for the other man to help him up…]

[…and gets a cowboy boot BURIED into his jaw!!]

[Fans in attendance SCREAM as Daymon’s grip finally slips away and both men PLUMMET THREE STORIES TO THE PARKING LOT BELOW…]


[AND ON TOP OF A CAR!! Windows EXPLODE as two human forms CAVE IN the top and disappear somewhere amid a mess of twisted metal and glass!! In the distance, sirens can be heard approaching, and the camera pans back up to the window…]

[Standing there, with a victorious and evil smile on his face, is “TRIPLE X” SEAN STEVENS… standing beside NAKITA DAHAKA…]

[Cut to black. Copyright. THE END.]
Not open for further replies.

About FWrestling

FWrestling.com was founded in 1994 to promote a community of fantasy wrestling fans and leagues. Since then, we've hosted dozens of leagues and special events, and thousands of users. Come join and prove you're "Even Better Than The Real Thing."

Add Your League

If you want to help grow the community of fantasy wrestling creators, consider hosting your league here on FW. You gain access to message boards, Discord, your own web space and the ability to post pages here on FW. To discuss, message "Chad" here on FW Central.

What Is FW?

Take a look at some old articles that are still relevant regarding what fantasy wrestling is and where it came from.
  • Link: "What is FW?"
  • Top