IN HONOR OF A LEGENDARY CAREER
OPENING VIDEO PACKAGE
The fans are shown throwing their hands into the air in slow motion, caught in different colors, with the feed freezing every so often on a crazed spectator’s features, exhilarated by what they are witnessing. It then cuts to aerial scenes of the city streets below with cars buzzing by an arena in fast motion.
If you feel so empty
So used up so let down
If you feel so angry
So ripped off so stepped on
You're not the only one
Refusing to back down
You're not the only one
So get up
The fans are again shown going even more crazy with their fists held up high, the camera freezing on a clinched set of digits, as it turns from normal color to a black and white hue. It then switches to Bitchcakes McPhee standing on the stage with a beer in one hand a large smile plastered on his face before cutting to an aerial view with stop motion footage of hundreds of fans waiting in line to get into the building.
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Scenes cut from the crazed fans in the stands to deranged mobs throwing Molotov cocktails down the street with burning rags stuck out of the back of them. It switches quickly to AWOL’s fierce face glaring forward maliciously before shifting to Aurora Rose standing on the turnbuckle, pointing out over the fans with a large smile on her face. It then cuts to Jackson Adams giving an opponent the Spectacular Ending before shifting to an explosion rocking through a building while it crumbles and collapses to the ground. Desolation is then featured jumping off the top of a cage roof with a shooting star press.
If you feel so filthy so dirty
so fucked up
If you feel so walked on
So painful so pissed off
You're not the only one
Refusing to go down
You're not the only one
So get up
Police are shown gathered in a straight line with shields held out in front of them, dressed in all riot gear while marching down the street. The video then switches to Simon Cagero disrobing in the ring. Thankfully the images transfer to Too Magnificent bashing someone over the head with a trash can before cutting to Nathan Creed maliciously glaring about his surroundings. Another image features Orlando Cruze standing on the stage and raising his arm above his head, as pyros explode on all sides of him. This image is short lived as people are featured being detained, cuffs slapped around their wrists while being forced into the back of large police vans.
Let's start a riot, a riot
If you feel so empty
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
So used up, so let down
If you feel so angry
Just get up
Let's start a riot
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Robin Brooks takes up the screen diving off the top rope with a moonsault and coming crashing down stomach first towards the camera that was aimed upwards to catch a glimpse of her in all of her acrobatic splendor. The package then showcases Chapel delivering the Cardinal Sin while surrounded by a steel cage before shifting to a bloodied smile face of Psycho, his dementia clear within his wide deranged eyes. Police are shown beating some looter with their knight sticks until Seth Owens takes over the screen, hitting a big lariat on someone. Pat Evans is then the focus of intention, ripping at a victim’s ankle with a tough, yet textbook submission. That’s before images are shown of Jon Rich delivering a missile dropkick as well as Orlando giving the Rock Bottom on Desolation. It then switches abruptly to Jon Torretto trying to force Too Magnificent’s head into a shredder. Zack Nolen is shown delivering a huge powerbomb on one of his victims before it cuts to a burning building, people running out of the flaming structure with stolen goods.
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Let's start a riot, a riot
Let's start a riot
Hurse is featured on top the shoulders of the Alpha Generation while holding the World Heavyweight title above his head. Abruptly the video switches to Psycho delivering the Psychotic Episode on one of his many victims before transitioning into an image of Roxas Knoxx taking out a large group of people with the use of her own body as a weapon. Ryan Mills takes up the screen delivering a superkick to his opponent’s jaw before cutting to Pat Evans holding onto the fujiwara.
Let's start a riot, a riot Let's start a riot
RIOT!
ROXAS KNOXX & AURORA ROSE VS. HURSE
HANDICAP LUMBERJACK MATCH
The show comes live to the inside of the arena but before the pyros can hit, or any semblance of a normal opening can be obtained, the proceedings are interrupted by the lyrics of House of the Rising Sun. The crowd immediately rise to their feet, infuriated, nay outraged by the sound of the lyrics slowly descending through the PA system.
There is a House in New Orleans
They call it the Rising Sun
And it’s been the ruin of many a poor boy
And God I know I’m One...
Through the curtains immediately strolls the World Heavyweight Champion, the title glistening over his shoulder while a very flustered expression inhabits his face. The source of his concern is what surrounds the ring he’s about to step foot into. It is completely surrounded by the IWC roster members, all of which are glaring in his direction with pleased, anxious expressions on their faces.
Dan Douglas: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to IWC Riot!, and what a way to kick off the show, as the ring is surrounded entirely by the IWC roster, waiting for this handicap lumberjack match.
Billy Mayne: This is not fair, this is not the image we want to send out to the fans right from the start of the show. That the IWC pointlessly tortures their most respectable members, and champions with overbooked, over-stipulated matches like these. This is outrageous, just outrageous I say.
Dan: Your outrage is noted, but I doubt anyone cares. What everyone is anxious to see right now is what’s going to happen to one of the leaders of the Alpha Generation, World Heavyweight Champion Hurse. He may be ripped apart by that roster before he even has the chance to get in the ring and take on the tandem of Roxas Knoxx and Aurora Rose.
Mayne: I’m not sure how much worse this night can get, and we’re just starting off.
Hurse swallows deeply, not being followed by the Alpha Generation this evening as he marches towards the ring. His chest heaves with fright, increasingly anxious the closer he gets to the ring. He turns to glance over his shoulder, seeing if he’s being followed by his teammates, unfortunately none of them are present, which increases his frustration and terror. With a sweat already building on his head, even though he hasn’t even stepped foot in the ring yet, he finds himself glaring into the faces of Jon Rich and Orlando Cruze. Although both men will be opponents later in the evening they stand side by side with smirks on their faces, devious ones aimed at the champion. Two individuals amongst many gathered around the ring with a long history against Hurse. Timidly Hurse points in both their faces, shouting that he’s not afraid of them even though he’s quite clearly trembling. It’s obvious they want to get their hands on him but they opt to step aside and allow him to pass through them. Right as Hurse timidly strolls between them, Cruze sticks his foot out, almost tripping the World Champion who staggers forward in the direction of the ring. He spins around to glare at the Icon in anger as Orlando just shrugs his shoulders, acting innocent. The crowd suddenly begins to get pumped up though as “School of Hard Knocks” hits the PA system and through the curtains emerges Roxas Knoxx to much hoopla. Rich glares up the ramp, nodding his head with a smile at the site of her before she kicks her hair back and spins in circles, overlooking the fans who are really going nuts for her. Strobe lights flash on both sides of the stage, tying in with her music as she makes her way towards the ring, the crowd very excited to see her, if for only the reason of seeing her brutalize the World Champion. As she gets to the end of the ramp she slides her hand across the side of Jon’s face while he smiles, then rushes at the ring. Sliding in under the ropes then jumping to her feet. Hurse is hanging back in the corner, hiding behind the referee almost.
Mayne: You know, I just realized how much Roxas Knoxx absolutely makes me ill. She is just a disgrace to this profession on every level conceivable. For one, she doesn’t have a penis, and secondly, she must enjoy the sight of Jon Rich’s, no matter how small it might be. And that disgusts me even further.
Douglas: Billy, I guess if your commentary wasn’t horribly biased it wouldn’t be anything at all. The point is, it’s just that though, bias. Roxas has shown she has a lot of untapped potential, which could really work to her benefit as she further develops here in IWC. I mean, she pushed Chapel to the limit for his Livewire title a few weeks ago in an epic Livewire title match. I’m sure we’ll see the same tonight.
Billy: Of course we will, because no matter how great Hurse may be, there’s only so much he can take. This guy isn’t John Cena, he doesn’t overcome superhuman obstacles, well, at least not all the time.
Roxas smirks rather deviously in the direction of Hurse who is swallowing deeply while peering around the agitated shoulders of the referee held out in front of him like a shield. Psycho reaches under the ropes and grabs Hurse’s ankle, causing him to jump away from the ropes with a yelp. Why Do You Love Me by Garbage breaks into Roxas’ entrance music, which seems to unnerve her slightly while Aurora Rose now emerges through the curtains. She throws her arm into the air in a rock like gesture that causes the fans to explode with cheers. For once her mind seems entirely focused, her eyes staring a hole into the ring and most importantly Hurse. They cut to Roxas though while running down the ramp, several of the roster members clapping as she passes them then slips into the ring. A bandage is still present on her forehead thanks to the numerous collisions with the cage last week, but otherwise she seems fine, determined. Although a moment of doubt comes to her at the sight of Roxas standing before her. The same doubt and confliction is present in Roxas, neither women very trusting of the other.
Dan: Aurora Rose rounds out the team that will face Hurse in this handicap lumberjack match.....
Mayne: Rounds out the team? Let me guess, you were going to say the team of just her and Roxas Knoxx, while completely pushing aside the fact that he’s also basically facing the entire roster here tonight.
Douglas: That may very well be true, but Aurora and Roxas face a disadvantage of their own, and that’s a lack of trust between the two lovely ladies. There is some deep seated hostility between them that has been seemingly pushed to the side for the time being in favor of getting the job done.
Billy: Yes, the job of harming our precious World Champion. This is sick, depraved, and disgusting!
Hurse looks around the ring at all the IWC locker room and a serious look of intimidation comes to his face. He sees Roxas and Aurora in front of him inching towards him. Hurse steps over to the ring telling the ref to tell one of the girls to leave the ring. The ref talks to the both of them. Roxas leaves the ring leaving Aurora Rose to start against Hurse. Hurse looks around once again before locking up with Rose. Hurse pushes her to the corner. He tries to go for a sneaky right hand, but Rose ducks out of the way and pushes Hurse in the corner and begins leveling him with rights. Rose grabs Hurse’s arm and throws him to the other corner. She charges, somersault, backflip, and back elbow into Hurse’s chest. She turns around and delivers a huge European Uppercut. Rose pulls Hurse from the corner by the arm and tags in Roxas. Rose throws Hurse to the ropes and hits a nice huricanrana. Roxas pulls on the top rope, jumps off, and lands a leg drop to the chest of Hurse. Hurse rolls out of the way to the rope and stops just before he leaves the ring to see Psycho right in front of him. Hurse panics and flails back and to his feet and is met with a dropkick.
Mayne: You see, this just isn’t fair. A wrestler’s first instinct is to leave the ring to regroup and Hurse can’t even do that. It’s everyone against Hurse. The whole world is against him.
Douglas: Just like the Alpha Generation did to Jon Rich last week.
Mayne: But Rich asked for it. Hurse didn’t.
Douglas: Are you sure about that?
Roxas pulls Hurse up in a front face lock and pulls back to the corner and tags in Rose. Rose hops in and kicks him in the gut. He pulls Hurse to the middle of the ring and slams him down. She runs to the ropes, bounces off, and drops a quick elbow. She rolls back to her feet, jumps in the air, and lands a knee right to the face of Hurse. Hurse grabs his face and rolls away again and grabs the bottom rope. Right in front of his face is Orlando Cruze with a grin on his face, daring Hurse to roll from the ring. Hurse slowly stands up and backs away from Cruze. Rose grabs Hurse from behind, lifts him up, and drops with a back body drop. Rose rolls out of the way and tags in Roxas. Knoxx comes in and quickly locks in an arm bar. Hurse tries to get back to his feet and kicks Roxas in the gut, throws her to the ropes, raverses, Knoxxslaps the back of Hurse’s head and pushes his head down and throws him between the top and middle rope. Hurse grabs the middle rope and wraps his arms around the middle rope. Hurse just holds on and looks around.
Douglas: And Hurse is just holding on for dear life now.
Mayne: He’s got a whole cadre of guys who want to kill him and Hurse knows it. Look at Roxas just trying to throw him out to make sure that they do the damage for them.
Douglas: Hurse has caused enough pain for people that this is poetic justice. He is getting what he deserves.
Roxas steps over to Rose and tags her in. As Hurse gets back in and gets back to his feet, Rose charges and clotheslines him over the top rope. Hurse has the presence of mind to grab that tope rope and hold on, kinda sitting on the ring apron. Rose grabs the top rope and begins stomping Hurse in the head to knocks him off. With his free arm, Hurse grabs the bottom rope and pulls himself on the apron and just grabs onto the bottom rope. Hurse reaches up and grabs Rose by the front of the bra, which has her let go of the top rope to cover herself, and Hurse pulls Rose through the top and middle rope and to the outside. Hurse rolls under the bottom rope and away from harm. Bitchcakes pulls Rose up, ever so gently, and helps her back into the ring.
Mayne: Oh, yeah right. Let’s see them do that to Hurse to get him back in the ring. What a crock of shit!
Hurse takes a few moments to gather himself as Rose gets back in the ring. Hurse charges and stomps her in the back of the head. Quickly pulls her to her feet and into a fisherman setup, pulls her in the air and drops back with a brainbuster. Hurse covers for the
1
2
Kickout by Rose. Hurse sits up and takes a few moments to think. He rolls up and pulls Rose to her feet. Rose puts her head under Hurse’s chin, grabs his head and drops to her knees. Rose rolls back and tags in Knoxx. Roxas to the top rope, waits for Hurse to get to his feet. She jumps off and turns in the air with a spinning heel kick and pouts Hurse down. She covers
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Kickout by Hurse. Roxas jumps to her feet and pulls Hurse up and follows up with a DDT. She rolls back to her feet, runs to the ropes, jumps to the middle just as Hurse gets to his feet, and flips back and lands on Hurse and puts him down. She is back to her knes and grabs Hurse by the hair, pulls him up and throws him over the top rope. Hurse grabs onto the tope rope to keep from falling out. Roxas with a forewarm to his face when he pulls back up. Knoxx runs to the ropes, bounces, tries to dropkick Hurse and Hurse spins out of the way as Roxas goes through the ropes and to the outside. Hurse steps through the ropes and Jon Rich checks on her.
Douglas: What a move by Hurse. He just steps out of the way and lets Roxas Knoxx go through the ropes. He may not be popular, but Hurse knows what he’s doing in the ring.
Mayne: I’ve been saying that for years. Oh, now you start to agree with me.
Douglas; I never said Hurse didn’t know what he was doing in the ring. I just don’t like his methods.
Hurse steps around the ring just as Rose jumps to the top rope and jumps off and hits Hurse with a dropkick and sends him to the ropes and through the top and middle ropes. He still holds fast and tries to get up. The ref steps in between the two and tries to tell Rose to get out. Roxas is to her feet just as Hurse makes his way back into the ring. Roxas runs and nails Hurse with a right hand and follows up with a DDT. As Rose argues with the ref, Roxas walks over and tells her to get out and says she’ll tag her in. Hurse is to his knees and charges at Roxas from behind and knocks her into Rose and knocks Rose to the mat and she rolls out of the ring. Hurse goes to his feet just as Roxas gets to her feet and hammers her in the back. He throws her to the ropes, she bounces, Hurse leap frogs, Roxas bounces off the other side, Hurse with the hip toss, Roxas hops through, grabs Hurse head and neck breaker. She covers
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Kickout. Roxas to her feet and tries to pull Hurse up. Hurse with a poke to the eye and follows with a knee to the gut. GUTWRENCH. Roxas grabs one leg of Hurse and lifts him on her back and backs to the ropes and tries to dump him over. Hurse hits her in the back of the head and falls to his feet. He then grabs Roxas, lifts her up and nails a Switchblade Chokeslam. Hurse gets to his feet and smirks at Cruze and waggles his head. Hurse drops to his knees and covers Roxas for the
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3
NO! Foot to the ropes and the ref sees it. Hurse gets to his feet and looks around and sees the Rose is getting helped to her feet. He pulls Roxas up and lifts her into a Gorilla Press. He charges and throws Roxas. Rose turns to see Roxas flying at her and crashing right into her.
Douglas: Sound strategy by Hurse. He knows that the both of them together can take him out and he can’t survive otherwise. He has to take them both out and focus on one.
Mayne: He’s also has kept free of the girl’s plan of getting him to the outside.
Douglas: That he has.
Mayne: He is the Master of Control and he is controlling this match now.
Hurse steps over where Rose and Roxas are on the mat outside. He points at Owens and tells him to throw Roxas back in the ring. Owens looks at Hurse then down at Rose who he is tending to. Hurse begins to step out just as Creed steps around and Hurse sees him. Hurse smiles and steps back into the ring and holds out his arms for the fans to boo him. Rich walks around and helps Roxas up and helps her into the ring after checking on her. Hurse steps over and spits in Jon’s face. Jon jumps on the apron and the ref stops Jon from getting into the ring. Hurse grabs Roxas by the hair and swings her to the mat and begins choking her out, putting his weight into the choke. Roxas is kicking to the mat. The ref turns around and gives Hurse to the 5 count. He breaks at 4 and goes to one knee and looks around with a grin on his face. He gets up and pulls Roxas up and locks in a front gantry, lifts her up and puts her on the top rope. He hits her a few times before climbing up to the top. He locks in a suplex position and pulls her in the air and hits a superplex. Hurse sits up and grins before rolling over and covers for the
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Thre..NO! shoulder rolls up.
Hurse shakes his head with a slight grin still on his face. He slowly gets up and locks in the gutwrench and looks around. He pulls Roxas up and hits the Legend Bomb.
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Kick to the face of Hurse to break the count.
Douglas: Roxas barely escaping that. The Legend Bomb have put many people away and Roxas had only one way of getting out and that was a kick to the face with her heels.
Mayne: But the damage has now been done to Roxas.
Douglas: She needs to get out of the ring and make a tag.
Mayne: And tag in a hurt Aurora Rose.
Hurse rubs his face and looks down on Roxas, almost seething. He goes from one knee to both feet and begins stomping her in the head. He then jumps in the air and curb stomps Roxas. Hurse drops down and covers for the
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3
Shoulder barely gets up now. Hurse is getting frustrated as he argues with the ref on the count. He gets to his feet and is all up in the refs face and pushes the ref. The ref pushes Hurse back and points in the face. Hurse finally turns from the ref. Roxas grabs Hurse by the front of the trunks and throws him through the top and middle ropes. Hurse grabs onto the ropes and tries to get to his feet. Roxas staggers to her feet, turns and nails Hurse with a right hand. Hurse begain to fall back and holds onto the top rope with both hands. Roxas kicks through the top and middle ropes into Hurse’s gut to push his mid section back. She grabs Hurse’s head and drops him down and drops Hurse’s throat across the top rope. Hurse stands straight up and begins to fall back. He swings an arm to the top rope to hold on. Hurse pulls himself back up just as Roxas jumps and with everything she has left dropkicks Hurse from the ropes and down to the outside mat. The fans explode in cheering. Hurse tries to get back to his feet.
MMMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
Hurse turns right into a kick from Bitchcakes McPhee.
Psycho steps over and pulls Hurse up and puts him into a powerbomb position. He lifts him up and begins his Sadistic Urge with multiple powerbombs and then his Psychosis Bomb.
Mayne: YOU SEE WHAT I WAS TALKING ABOUT???
Douglas: Calm down, Billy.
Mayne: Fuck you, Dan. They helped Roxas and Aurora into the ring. Now they gang bang Hurse. Where’s the ref?
Psycho looks around with a grin on his face as Pat Evans pulls Hurse up and gently rolls him into the ring. Roxas gets to her feet and tags in Aurora Rose. Rose jumps in, looks at Hurse, turns her head, and clotheslines Roxas over the top rope.
Douglas: What was that all about?
Mayne: I think Hurse make Aurora Rose think that Roxas Knoxx was attacking her.
Douglas: Aurora needs to remember who the real enemy is.
Aurora grabs Hurse by the head the throws him over the top rope to the other side of the ring. Creed walks over to Hurse and pulls him up. TOTAL DOMINATION! Hurse just lays there unable to move.
IN the ring, Roxas rolls back in the ring and steps over to Aurora and shoves her. She turns and steps into the face of Roxas. They begin screaming at each other.
ON the outside Jon Rich bends over, eyes on Hurse. Hurse begins to roll to his feet. Rich chareges and lands with a Thez Press and begins hammering the hell out of Hurse, grabbing his hair and taking those shots. Blood begins to protrude from Hurse’s head. Cruze pulls Jon from off Hurse and then drops down getting ready for a Rock Bottom. The fans begin to cheer, then suddenly boo as Desolation and Jackson Adams run form the back wit the rest of the Alpha Generation in tow. Everyone around the ring sees this and tries to intercept. At the ring entrance, a huge battle ensues in the bottleneck. In the ring, Roxas and Rose begin shoving each other. From the outside, a man dressed in a Michael Myers outside rolls under the ring. While Roxas and Rose are so into screaming at each other, Myers sneaks behind Rose and charges her, knocking her into Roxas and putting her down.
Douglas: What the hell is this? Is this some Alpha Generation rouse?
Mayne: I don’t think so. They’ll all at ringside. I think this is the stalker.
Douglas: This is crazy. He’s dressed as Michael Myers. This isn’t Halloween. Where is the ref?
Mayne: I think the ref is trying to break up the battle outside the ring. But, hey, there is a new one coming out. Hey DDP was on the set. The stalker has to be him. He’s done it before. I’ll bet anything that Diamond Dallas Page is the stalker
Douglas: Why would DDP want to stalk Aurora Rose? We don’t know who is behind that mask. I doubt that it’s him.
Rose gets up and turns around and sees this Michael Myers figure standing there and is completely bewildered. She takes a step forward and Myers slaps his hands around her throat and then grabs it with the other hands and lifts her in the air. Myers then throws Rose over the top rope to the outside. Hurse is back in the ring with a chair and stands up. There is some eye contact. Hurse has no idea what to do, but he has the chair. Myers backs away and leaves the ring. Hurse looks at Roxas who is getting to her feet. Hurse grins and the fans boo loud. Roxas gets up and turns around and is met with a chair to the head. Hurse throws the chair away and wipes the blood from his head. He steps over and shouts for the ref to get back in the ring. He walks over and covers Roxas Knoxx for the
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3!
Douglas: I don’t believe it. Hurse has just stolen another one.
Mayne: And you can thank DDP for it.
Douglas: You don’t know that Page is the stalker. Get over it.
Hurse rolls from the ring and jumps through the fans to escape. Jon Rich rolls into the ring as the AG backs away. He checks on Roxas.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
GO TO A GOOD WRESTLING SCHOOL, AND DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME
SECOND THOUGHTS
A rather flustered Roxas Knoxx stands backstage with her arms crossed over her chest and an almost pouting expression on her face. A slight lump is present on her forehead from that steel chair shot that was used to put her away, yet she doesn’t seem to care about the pain it creates. She stares forward, miffed, irate, upset about what transpired in the ring a few moments ago with a healthy layer of sweat developed over her agitated features. The frustration mounting within her, only seems to escalate as the camera pans out to reveal Jon Rich located in front of her, almost reading the riot act to the attractive young femme fatale.
Rich: I still have no idea what happened out there. I mean, what were you thinking...?
Roxas: You know what Jon, I’m not sure what was going through my head either. I wish I had answers for you, but I just don’t. It isn’t like this is my fault after all. Aurora was the one who clotheslined me.
The same agitation that builds within Roxas now begins to effect Jon, who rears his head and takes a deep breath, trying to remain calm through this turbulent time.
Jon: I really wish you could explain why you couldn’t get along with Aurora though. Why don’t you just tell me why you hate that woman so much that it costs you a guaranteed win? I can’t believe you two would rather get at each other then at the people who threaten to destroy this whole company. Can’t you see what your doing? Your falling into the whole Alpha Generation strategy of divide and conquer. Your allowing yourself to be manipulated.
Roxas rubs at the patch of flesh between her eyes, definitely not wanting to hear this right now, not interested in the slightest in being given a lecture, regardless of rather it’s coming from the one person she trusts or not.
Knoxx: Okay, okay, granted I should have been thinking a little more clearly out there, but I’m not the one to blame for this. That bitch Aurora is the cause of all these problems, so if anyone deserves to be lectured, it’s her. I was going to try and work as a team out there, but she was too selfish, just like always. You saw how hard I was trying to be a team player Jon, you know how much I’ve been struggling to learn how to trust people again. So don’t think any less of me for what I did when the culprit behind this is Aurora.
Jon places his hand on the wall beside Roxas while glaring deeply into the embers of her eyes, struggling to come up with something to say it seems.
Jon: You know me Roxas, at least I hope you do, so you should realize that I could never think low of you. I’m just trying to make sense out of all this. I want us all to be on the same team, united instead of divided. We’re easy targets if we’re fighting each other, instead of fighting beside one another. I think you and Aurora need to get together and discuss this rationally.
Roxas: No way....
The mere mention of speaking with Aurora seems to repulse young Roxas, who swipes her hands in front of her and causes Jon to become even more flustered.
Knoxx: I’m sorry Jon, but there’s just no way possible I can work with that self centered slut again. She’s too untrustworthy, far too untrustworthy, and the next time I see her again, the only speaking I’ll be doing will be done with my knuckles.
Oh yeah you fucking bitch!?!
Jon turns and jumps out of the way in the nick of time as Aurora rushes shoulder first right into Roxas’ gut, pushing her back first against the wall. The crowd is screaming as both women come to blows with one another. Knoxx is clubbing Aurora over the back repeatedly before Rose stands up, slipping her hands into her hair then shoving Roxas’ head back first against the wall. Knoxx bashes off the concrete and stumbles forward before Aurora clubs her over the upper back, screaming in outrage. Jon grabs Aurora by the arms, trying to hold her back.
Rich: Stop it, stop this!
Roxas turns, almost appearing demented with her eyes wide with outrage. She charges forward, burying her shoulder into Aurora’s gut now, charging her spine first into Jon and forcing Rich’s back against the wall. He hits it hard before Roxas wraps her arms around Aurora’s waist, pulling her down to the floor, rolling on top of her. She starts to slap and punch Rose across the face repeatedly before Jon steps forward, reaching for his back while wrapping his arms around Roxas’ waist. He lifts up on her, forcing Knoxx away from Rose while kicking and screaming, trying to get free.
Roxas: I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you bitch!! Let me go, let me go!
Jon turns, putting his shoulder to her gut and lifting Roxas up onto his shoulders while she still tries to get free and get her hands on Aurora who is standing up. Before Roxas nor Jon can get away, a screaming Aurora rushes up behind Rich, grabbing a handful of Knoxx’s hair and pulling her down to the ground, off of the shoulder. They are both screaming again as they jab one another in the face and rip at each other’s hair, Jon doing everything he can to pull them off one another, but being completely incapable of stopping this madness.
STACY RAINES VS. NOBU-KUN VS. WARD HAWN:
TRIPLE THREAT CONTRACT MATCH
The show comes live to the ringside area where Dan Douglas and Billy Mayne are seated, both men appearing stunned by what just transpired in the backstage area, glancing at one another awkwardly.
Douglas: Things continuing to go from insane to crazy here on Riot!, as the brawl that took place during the opening match between Roxas Knoxx and Aurora Rose has now spilled over into the backstage area. These two women want to rip one another to pieces.
Mayne: It started with some arguments in ULW:R and now it’s come to fist fights and brawls here in the IWC. I will say this though, I’d love to replace Jon Rich back there, stuck in the middle of those two feisty females.
Douglas: I’m sure you would, and I’m positive the sexual harassment lawsuits would pile up as a result. But we got to switch gears right now, because coming up next is what promises to be an athletic three way dance for a guaranteed contract here in the IWC, between two ULW veterans, and an usual, bizarre newcomer to our corporation.
Billy: The man thinks he’s a Geisha, so I do believe simply calling him bizarre is a vast understatement. Dr. Ruth would have a field day with Nobu-kun.
Call me when your sober hits the speakers , Stacy walks out when the music really gets heavy she raiss her arms, the crowed cheers she runs down to the ing and slides under the bottom rope, she jumps up and climbs the turn buckle she raises her fingers in the metal sign and then smiles and backflips of landing on her feet, once again she raises one arm to a metal sign above her head and waits for the match to start.
Douglas: Well, here’s one of three talents wishing to make an immediate impact here in the IWC by securing a contract in this triple threat match. She’s the returning Stacy Raines, and boy does she ever look fired up to be back here in a wrestling ring.
Mayne: Eh, the fire will last five minutes and get burnt out when she’s beat by whomever actually has full functional control over their brain in this match. Which judging by the participants is noone.
Stacy steps onto the turnbuckle then back flips off, right onto her feet before turning in a circle, pointing out over the crowd. The opening cords of Drivers high begins to play and the lights begin to flicker on and then off and the music kicks in to the first verse where Nobu-kun walks out from behind to loud cheering from both female fan and a few male ones. That’s when it’s revealed that he’s wearing a Chinese school girl uniform. He walks carefully towards the ring until the song hit’s “coolest drivers high” and the pyrotechnic begin from all the ring posts as Nobu-kun jumps onto the apron and provocatively slips through the ropes. Causing many males fans to cringe in disgust.
Dan: Much like Stacy Raines, this young Nobu-kun has a lot of emotional baggage apparently. Especially considering what happened last week when he came out dressed as a Geisha and planted a kiss on Max Craven’s lips, also judging by his choice of in ring clothing this evening.
Mayne: Max is a man’s man, and I can entirely understand why he’d want to part ways with IWC after being sexually harassed in such a manner. Nobu-kun doesn’t deserve a contract here in the IWC for what he’s already done here. Plus, I certainly don’t need the sight of a hundred pound man dressed in a skimpy school girl’s uniform. I really hope Nobu-kun is wearing something under that skirt.
Dan: Jeez, why give him more to be conflicted about? But I’ll base my perception of him judging by his talent, rather than his previous actions.
Stacy is overlooking Nobu-kun oddly, obviously bewildered by something about him. Her eyebrow rises while judging the oddly dressed Japanese sensation. Riot plays as yellowish lights begin to flicker through the arena Ward Hawn walks out. Flaring his arms white blasts of fireworks go off behind him. Making his way down the isle Ward goes from side to side slapping hands with the crowd. Hawn walks up the stairs into the ring stepping between the middle and bottom rope. Getting into the ring Hawn makes his way over to the corner and steps up onto the second rope flaring his arms taunting towards the crowd, repeating this in each corner. Nobu-kun uneasily glances at Ward, looking him up and down while Stacy does the same, keeping her stance in the corner nevertheless though.
Mayne: Ward Hawn, who shows his creativity by having the same entrance music as the show he’s on, at least looks slightly more sane than the other two individuals in this match, thankfully. It’s at least nice to have one person trying to come into the IWC, who isn’t completely bat shit crazy.
Douglas: Well, all these individuals would have something in common with yourself then Billy. But Ward is another grappler returning to the ring after a lengthy lay off period. He came into ULW a few months ago and turned some heads, but due to other agreements in Japan and other foreign countries he had to leave, however he’s now been brought back here to IWC with the chance to earn himself a contract.
Billy: Enough back history, Jesus, are you trying to bore the living shit out of me? I thought that was the job of the wrestlers in this contract match.
All three competitors eye one another speculatively, however, Nobu-kun seems a little more apprehensive than the other two, hanging back in his corner. Just then the bell rings and both Ward and Stacy step forward towards the center of the ring. Nobu-kun doesn’t however, just keeps standing in his corner. Hawn and Stacy exchange a rather apprehensive stare before they lock up with one another in a collar elbow tie, jockeying for position. They drop to their knees then stand back up while still trying to find the right hold or escape that will give them the advantage. Quickly Ward swings around under the arms of Stacy, grabbing hold of one of them and dragging it behind her back, applying the hammerlock. Stacy tries to get herself free from this hold before she bends forward, reaching between her legs and grabbing hold of Ward’s. She lifts up on it, causing Hawn to crash onto his back before Stacy jumps into the air and turns, going for an elbow drop. Hawn rolls out of the way though, causing Stacy to connect with the point of her elbow to the canvas, sitting up immediately before Ward scoots up behind her. He grabs her arm once more and drags it behind Stacy’s back, again applying that basic, but effective hammerlock move. It generates much more pain this time around after Stacy failed to connect with the elbow drop. However, she begins to rise to her feet, trying to escape the hammerlock before Ward steps forward, instead applying a side headlock submission hold. He drags his arms against the sides of Stacy’s face before she places her hand to his back, shoving him forward into the cables. Ward bounces off then comes back in at Stacy who plants herself but gets taken down with a hard shoulder tackle from her larger opponent, who gets several cheers from many of the females in the audience. Ward stares down at Stacy for a moment before charging into the cables at her side, bouncing off then coming back in before he jumps over top of Raines, and finds himself running right into a huge dropkick to the face from Nobu-kun. The impact knocks Ward down hard to the canvas while Nobu-kun rolls into the ropes, using them to pull himself to his feet.
Stacy is standing up in the ring now as Nobu-kun springs onto the top rope then flies right at her. But Raines ducks, avoiding the move as the small nimble Japanese performer flips over top of her, and ducks his head so that he can roll across the canvas. He gets right onto his feet as Stacy stands up then turns to face him, charging in for Nobu-kun to catch her with a kick to the gut. Raines is bent over as Nobu-kun places her in a front gantry then sticks his other arm out to his side, signaling for a twist of fate perhaps. He swings around with his arm, catching Stacy around the neck before she jumps into the air behind him, placing the front of her ankles under his armpits and rolling him over backwards onto his shoulders. Stacy ends up seated on the back of his thighs.
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Ward gets to his feet quickly and steps around in front of Stacy, wrapping his arm around her neck and lifting her up off of Nobu-kun into a vertical suplex position. He holds her there for a second with the crowd screaming before Nobu-kun rolls over backwards onto his feet, standing up right as Stacy floats over, landing on her feet behind Ward then springing into the air. She dropkicks him directly to the back, launching him right at Nobu-Kun who turns just in time to grab the top rope, pulling down on it. Ward is launched over the ropes as a result, twisting as he crashes back first into the outside mats, lying in a heap now.
Douglas: Stacy Raines and Nobu-kun almost working as a team to eliminate Ward Hawn here for the time being.
Mayne: Great, all the freaks are teaming up to take out the one sane guy in this match. Seriously, we should have a full time psychiatrist on Riot, or at least a good talk show host.
Nobu-kun turns to glare at Ward on the outside of the ring before grabbing the top rope and showing his agility as he springs up on top of it. He plants his feet with cat like agility before Raines rushes forward, dropkicking the top rope and causing Nobu-kun to spill off of it. He falls throat first onto the top cable then staggers backwards in the center of the ring. Stacy gets to her feet then jumps into the air onto the middle rope in front of him, bouncing off then flying backwards with a huge back elbow right into the chest of the nimble competitor hailing from the land of the rising sun. Nobu-kun crashes onto his back and rolls over in reverse while Stacy gets to a crawling base then does a headstand before flipping over onto her feet, getting a great applause from the crowd as a result. Abruptly she turns though, rushing across the ring then diving through the ropes right at a just now standing Ward Hawn, catching him with a huge suicide diving headbunt. Both competitors are taken down to the canvas with the fans giving what they just witnessed a loud ovation.
Ward is launched back first against the steel barricade after Stacy connected with him, while Raines lies on her side on the outside mats. They are both trying to get their heads straight while rising slowly to their feet. Ward steps in and jabs Stacy right to the face before Raines returns with a chop to his chest. Both competitors are really going at it and don’t even notice as Nobu-kun charges across the ring then flips over the top rope with a flipping senton pancha right on top of them both. Again the crowd finds themselves putting their hands together as Nobu-kun comes down on top of both his opponents, driving them to the mats as well as himself.
Mayne: Another huge dive with no regard for his safety! Don’t these competitors know they don’t have medical insurance just yet?
Douglas: They don’t care, all that’s on their minds is earning a full time spot here on the IWC roster.
Billy: They won’t be able to enjoy it though if they’re seriously injured.
All three competitors are trying to work their way to their feet but Ward and Nobu-kun are the first two to a standing base. Just as they get up though, Ward buries his shoulder into the smaller opponent’s gut, rushing him back first into the steel plated barricade. Nobu-kun bends over the barrier, arching his spine in pain before he begins to step forward only to walk into the arms of Ward, who wraps them around his waist. He then turns his back towards the barricade and delivers a belly to belly suplex that flips Nobu-kun over, sending him flying over the barrier into the screaming crowd. They seem absolutely amazed by what just happened while Stacy is pulling herself up onto the apron behind the rising Hawn. Ward seems somewhat pleased with himself at the sight of Nobu-kun lying amongst the sea of humanity. But he turns right into Stacy who dives off the apron, catching him around the neck with her legs then swinging around into a huge hurricarana. Ward is flipped over, slamming hard back first into the mats as again the crowd screams with excitement, enjoying the sight of all these high risk moves. Stacy stands up and immediately moves towards Ward, grabbing him by the ear and rolling him to his knees. When he reaches a kneeling base Stacy slugs him across the face, then does it once again, spit and sweat flying from Hawn’s face. She then steps back before moving forward with a well placed kick directly under his jaw. The strike causes Ward to turn, falling back first against the barrier for support. This is before Stacy drags him up to his feet and again rolls him into the ring under the ropes. Ward turns to a crawling base, trying to pull himself to his feet now, his body obviously aching after all the damage done to it thus far. Just as he gets to hsi feet though, Stacy grabs the top rope, pulling herself up onto it feet first then springing off as she flies across the ring. Ward turns and jumps into the air though, catching her then spinning around into a huge powerslam that drives her viciously into the canvas. Ward is on top, hooking the leg.
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No! Stacy kicks out with a bit of time to spare. A flustered expression overcomes the face of Hawn, who sits up on the canvas, trying to compose himself after he almost got the win that huge counter. Ward gets to his knees behind Raines, grabbing her by the hair and forcing her to her posterior before slapping on a sleeper hold. He squeezes at her neck with all his upper body strength as Raines tries to pry the arms apart from around her neck. She can’t seem to do it though before the crowd starts to cheer, Nobu-kun courageously pulling himself up onto the apron. He falls through the ropes before Ward turns to spot him, breaking the sleeper then stepping towards Nobu-kun, stomping at him repeatedly before he could get up to mount any offense. Ward grabs Nobu-kun under the chin, dragging him to his feet then drilling him to the face with a right hand before whipping him across the ring. Nobu-kun bounces off the ropes and comes back in at Ward who turns and launches a huge lariat his throat. The small Japanese performer ducks it though then goes into a handstand, the back of his legs hitting the ropes, ricocheting off as he lands back on his feet then flips over backwards, landing right on top of Ward’s shoulder. Hawn holds him there for a second Nobu-kun turns with his body, landing legs first on top of Ward’s shoulders then dropping back into a huge hurricarana. The fans cheer as Ward is flipped over, crashing onto his back then sitting up with a painful expression on his face.
Douglas: Nobu-Kun coming back in here with some acrobatic maneuvers to say the least!
Mayne: He’s only able to do this because the man is technically anorexic. Look at him, what does he eat over in Japan, nothing but mushrooms and fish? Eat a damn cheeseburger Nobu-kun! Well great, now to make matters worse, he’s made me hungry.
The crowd is putting their hands together as Ward rolls to his knees, trying to stand up while Nobu-kun gets to his feet in front of him. Immediately he moves in with a kick to Ward’s chest, then another kick to the side of his face before jumping into the air and back kicking him straight to the jaw. Ward is almost knocked unconscious by every blow but somehow is able to shake them off long enough to keep his eyes from closing, from passing out. With Hawn almost out cold, Nobu-kun ceases the opportunity, turning and bolting across the ring, bouncing off the ropes then coming back in at Ward. Just then Hawn stands up, catching Nobu-kun coming in. But the agile, small star turns, aiming his back side towards Hawn and reaching out with his legs. He wraps them around Ward’s waist while falling to his palms on the canvas then pushing himself up into the air. Hawn places his hand to the back of Nobu-kun, pressing it straight to his kidney area, forcing him upward into a wheelbarrow suplex position almost. But once Nobu-kun gets onto Ward’s shoulder he flips over backwards, again showing his agility by now straddling the back of Hawn’s neck. He wraps his legs around his head then drops back into a reverse hurricarana, that drills Hawn head first into the canvas. The fans find themselves screaming, going absolutely nuts over what they just witnessed while Nobu-kun turns, jumping into the cover on the down Hawn, hooking his leg in the process.
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Stacy jumps in and breaks up the count with a well timed elbow to the back of Nobu-kun’s head. The impact causes him to roll across the canvas, holding his noggin before reaching the ropes, utilizing them to pull himself to his feet. Stacy steps in with a hard forearm smash to the side of his face before taking him by the wrist. She whips him across the ring into the opposite ropes before Nobu-kun springs into the air, landing feet first on the second cable. He launches himself off and turns, landing on Stacy’s shoulders with another hurricarana, but no she drops down into a sit-out powerbomb, burying her shoulders into the back of his legs for the pin.
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Nobu-kun gets his shoulder up in time.
Douglas: Nobu-kun just took out Ward Hawn with two huge hurricaranas, but unfortunately he could not do the same against Stacy Raines in what has been an insanely fast paced, high flying triple threat match.
Mayne: They call those spot-fests in some companies Dan. But these three are certainly putting on one hell of a show Dan.
Dan: Billy, your not even watching the match. Give me that damn portable mini-television!
Billy: No! You’ll make me miss the commercials!
Inside of the ring Stacy gets to her feet, breathing hard as she grabs Nobu-kun around the neck, rolling him to his feet. She then slaps on a front gantry before dropping back into a hard vertical suplex, that plants him violently into the canvas. That’s before she rolls to her knees, dragging Nobu-kun along with her while still trapped in the front gantry. She forces herself to her feet before now hooking his leg and dropping back into a hard fisherman suplex with the bridge.
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Ward jumps into the scene, dropping a axehandle into her gut. The force of the collision knocks Stacy out of that bridging position, releasing Nobu-kun who rolls across the canvas while Raines grips at her mid-section. Ward seems scrambled by all the head shots he’s taken thus far, but he gets up nevertheless and begins to stomp at the down Stacy, trying to soften her up some more. Ward steps to her side then moves in for a quick, hard knee lift to the face, but Raines bends back, avoiding it. This causes Hawn to have to charge forward into the ropes after missing the strike, bouncing off the cables then coming back in at Stacy who gets to her feet and jumps into the air, swinging around with a huge spinning heel kick. Ward is taken down hard to the canvas across his back before Stacy gets to her feet, appearing more motivated than ever before. But Hawn is quickly getting to his feet. Just as he does, Stacy rushes forward at him and jumps high into the air. She lands right on his shoulders, dropping back for a hurricarana but he pulls her up into the air, throwing her upwards actually. Surprisingly Stacy lands so that she is standing on top of one of Ward’s shoulders while Nobu-kun gets up and rushes in with a huge spear. Right as he connects on Hawn, Stacy flips over backwards, landing right on her feet off Ward’s shoulder. The crowd stands, putting their hands together at the sight of what they just witnessed while Ward rolls across the canvas, holding his gut but quickly trying to get to his feet. Nobu-kun rolls across the ring, holding his shoulder as Stacy charges at him quickly, going for a shining wizard. But somehow Nobu-kun ducks his head down out of the way, causing Stacy to land on her feet behind him. He then jumps to a standing base and leaps into the air, catching her around the neck and dropping her with a reverse neckbreaker. The back of Stacy’s head hits the canvas hard while she is laid out before Nobu-kun rolls over backwards, getting to a standing base with both feet on opposite sides of Raine. He stands there only for a second before jumping into the air, delivering a brutal double stomp directly to Stacy’s ribs, the fans putting their hands together at the sight of what they just witnessed.
The agile Nobu-kun rolls across the canvas, Stacy going into convulsions on the ring while he reaches his feet. Ward is standing up beside Stacy, separated by a few feet before Raines rolls to a crawling base, trying to get up. Before she can Nobu-kun runs across the ring, stepping off the back of Stacy so that is launched forward, catching Ward around the neck then pulling him around into a hard tornado DDT. Hawn bashes skull first off the canvas before dropping onto his back, the fans putting their hands together once more at the sight of the very acrobatic move by this up and coming prospect. Nobu-kun rolls to his knees then gets to his feet, turning right towards Stacy who has reached a standing base. She staggers forward before getting kicked to the gut and placed in a front gantry. Nobu-kun shows he has strength for such a small figure as he hoists her into the air in a vertical suplex position only for her swing around with her body, wrapping her arm around his head and dragging him down to to the ring with a stunner. The crowd is shocked by the acrobatic counter Nobu-kun flies backwards across the ring, almost soaring through the ropes as a result of the force of the impact. Stacy gets up and immediately starts talking trash with Nobu-kun before turning to face Ward who rushes forward and drills her with a European Uppercut that packs so much force that it sends her flying across the ring. She crashes back first into the turnbuckle, the fans shocked by the sheer impact of the move just used by Ward. He falls to his knees after hitting the move now, catching his breath while surprisingly Nobu-kun has gotten to his feet on the apron. He shakes his head, in obvious pain after the last few collisions, most notably the stunner he took before he springs up onto the top rope. The crowd screams as he flies through the air at Ward who stands and jumps upward, catching him around the neck, countering his aerial move into a huge diamond cutter. Nobu-kun bashes off the canvas then flips over onto his side with the fans screaming over what they just witnessed.
Douglas: Ward Hawn getting in some explosive offense here. Taking out both his opponents.
Billy: Why in the hell do you always catalog this as explosive offense? Do you just utter that whenever you don’t have anything else better to say?
Dan: This coming from a man who shouts, “no,” and screams pleas to the God above whenever people he likes start to lose matches.
Ward is taking deep breaths while trying to get himself back into this match. He rises to his feet slowly while Stacy is trying to pull herself up the turnbuckle. She gets to the second rope in a very sluggish manner while Ward approaches her, burying his shoulder into her spine. He then backs up, attempting a high angle back drop suplex off the corner only for Raines to flip over, landing on her feet behind him. Ward spins around when Stacy charges forward directly at him only for Hawn to catch her, throwing her up into the air over his head. Raines shows remarkable athletic ability though by landing feet first on the top turnbuckle then jumping off, turning in mid-air as she comes down right on top of Ward with a huge crossbody. Ward is driven down viciously into the canvas with Stacy on top of him, going for the pinfall.
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Ward pushes Stacy off of him, sending her flying across the ring a bit. She rolls across the canvas while Ward turns onto his knees, trying to stand up. Just as he does, Stacy comes charging in at Ward only to be caught with a tilt a whirl that she flips out of, landing right on her feet in front of him. Stacy kicks Ward directly to the gut then slaps on a side headlock, charging at the turnbuckle, looking to almost be going for a springboard bulldog as she jumps into the air. She extends her legs towards the ropes but as she does, Hawn pushes up on her back and throws her over the top cable to the outside. Stacy hits the mats hard with the crowd groaning as a result before Hawn turns around to glare straight at Nobu-kun who is utilizing the ropes to get to his feet. Ward bends forward, waiting anxiously, impatiently for the proper time to strike. Nobu-kun is getting to a standing base now with wobbly knees before Hawn steps right after him. Right as he is about to attack Nobu-kun falls forward a bit, causing his school girl skirt to hike up in the back, revealing his posterior. The fans start to scream loudly at the sight of his barren cheeks as Ward comes to an abrupt stop, his mouth opening widely and disgust setting into his features. Hawn turns away from Nobu-kun, covering his mouth as if about to throw up. Right as he does, Nobu-kun charges up behind him, grabbing the back of his tights and rolling him up backwards into a school boy, or I guess in this case, a school girl pin.
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The fans are all shocked that Hawn was just pinned out of nowhere, Nobu-kun kicking out a second too late. He sits up on the canvas, appearing stunned, flabbergasted in fact as his eyes bug from their sockets and his mouth hangs agape in astonishment. He shakes his head, refusing to believe what just transpired as Nobu-kun quickly vacates the ring, rolling to the outside. Stacy stands up on the on the opposite side of the ring, glaring into the squared circle in outrage over what just transpired.
Mayne: I can’t believe this! Nobu-kun just stole a victory thanks to his exposed ass cheeks!
Douglas: There’s a first time for everything Billy. Nobu-kun winning this match through whatever means necessary, although I think the ass slippage was unintentional.
Billy: Of course it wasn’t. Nobu-kun had this all planned. His ass cheeks were all part of a devious strategy.
Stacy is still fuming over what happened while Ward drops to his knees, slipping his trembling hands through his hair while glaring straight at Nobu-kun on the entry way. The young Japanese star blows kisses to his fans while running up the ramp towards the backstage area.
Mayne: The thought of this man having a guaranteed contract just makes me ill.
CRUMBLING ALLIANCES
Outrage seems to be the prominent emotion when beholding the sight of the bickering Alpha Generation gathered where else but in their rather lavish dressing room. The privacy provided by their secluded dressing chamber doesn’t seem to provide any comfort for the agitated Alpha members, who are clearly distressed over the events that have thus far occurred throughout the evening. Jackson Adams is leaning back first against a wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a foul glint in his eyes as he observes the commotion between Hurse, Desolation, and Too Magnificent. The Dark Man seems to be trying to calm down a clearly fearful Hurse, who storms back and forth between the teammates gathered on his opposite sides, holding a bandage to his forehead, clearing away a bit of blood from the laceration created earlier in the evening.
Hurse: This night has already started with a downward spiral. I can’t believe the audacity of those bastards to put their hands on me, me! The World Heavyweight Champion!
The Championship slips from Hurse’s shoulder into his palm before he holds it up in the direction of Desolation’s face. The Dark Man calmly pushes the belt and hand downward, stepping into Hurse’s face, appearing more alive and angered than ever.
Desolation: You weren’t the only one molested by that damned roster out there tonight. I can’t tell you how many years of psychology I’ll need to get the thought of Psycho trying to put his hands on my man meat out of my head. Wait, did I really just say that? Oh well, was still a better phrase than half the roster can produce.
The majority of the AG, with the exception of a hung back, loose Jackson Adams, nod their heads, accepting Desolation’s words of wisdom, no matter rather they’re wise in the slightest or not. The phrase does little to nothing to get Hurse’s head off the present predicament though, still stressing over what occurred.
Hurse: Regardless of who touched who and where that touching took place, we were all still made to look like a bunch of idiots out there by the roster. We’re suppose to be the most dominant, feared stable in all of IWC, and yet we’re being pushed around like we’re a couple of jokes. Bigger jokes than the atrocious matches that have been booked tonight, bigger jokes than the loopholes in WWE storylines, bigger jokes than Jon Torretto passing himself off as a gansta.
Too Magnificent: Hey now, I think that might be going a little bit too far.
The mere mention of having any similarities between themselves and Torretto downright repulses Too Magnificent, who reassuringly places his hand on Hurse’s shoulder in the hopes of simmering him down some.
Desolation: For once the man wearing a thousand dollar suit has got it right. We may have looked utterly pathetic out there, more so everyone else than me, but this night isn’t over just yet. We’ve still got a chance to redeem ourselves and put the fear of the Alpha Generation back into the hearts of the roster. Making us more terrifying than sock puppets, or re-runs of Johnny Kingdom’s promos in their minds.
Hurse: We’d have to do something pretty fucking scary to accomplish that. But I still can’t get over the way we were manhandled out there. Granted we were greatly outnumbered since Ryan Mills and Zack Nolen have mysterious vanished into the ether, but we’re talking about the likes of Aurora Rose, Psycho, and Jon Rich pushing us around. The four of us should have been capable of outmatching all of them, but we didn’t, and I want to know why.
Jackson: I know precisely why we fell apart out there.
All eyes transfer to Jackson Adams, with the exception of Desolation’s, who seems more preoccupied dusting off the shoulders of his shirt. JA saunters forward towards his teammates as they watch him closely, Hurse greatly interested in what Jackson believes to be the source of their troubles.
Hurse: Yeah, so what’s the problem then?
Jackson stares straight into the eyes of the World Champion, glaring at him for several seconds without saying a word. His stare is doing the talking for him before Hurse cracks a smile, glancing about at the rest of the AG in bewilderment.
Hurse: Ha, what? Are you trying to say I’m the problem? The Alpha Generation wouldn’t even exist if it wasn’t for me.
Jackson shakes his head and flails his opened palms out in front of himself.
Jackson: No, no, no, you’ve got me all wrong, Steven. The problem isn’t you exactly, it’s what you’ve got on your mind, and who you’ve got around you when the Alpha Generation aren’t about. The source of all our troubles is that no good hussy Robin Brooks.
Hurse is taken aback by this insinuation, maintaining that increasingly uneasy smile on his face though.
Hurse: You can’t be serious, Jackson. How is she a problem? And how does how I spent my private time effect you in the slightest.
Adams: It effects everyone, Steven. Especially when Robin’s got you so wrapped around her little finger that you can’t think logically, that you can’t see the truth, that it blocks your mind from being able to produce a strategy so that we can overcome AWOL and the roster. That woman is using and distracting you Steven.
Too Magnificent: Jackson....
Too Mag tries to step in to stop Adams from going on any further, but Jackson pushes his large teammate back some with his outstretched hand, all the while glaring straight into the eyes of a shocked World Champion.
Jackson: No, I’ve bite my tongue way too much. I’ve kept silent when I should have been telling you what you need to hear Hurse. Robin is nothing more than an albatross, weighing us all down, sinking us to the depths of damnation. You can’t see it Steven, but the rest of us can. Robin is a no good bitch who is trying to break us apart. She’s the IWC equivalent of Yoko Ono. She’s got your mind so warped and clouded you can’t even see that the Alpha Generation is falling apart. You don’t even realize what she’s been doing behind your back. I tried to tell you last week, I’ve been trying to warn you that I saw Robin lure Killjoy into her dressing room on the last Riot!. I saw the two of them talking, plotting about how they were going to bring us down. I know what they were doing behind closed doors Steven, and let’s just say it wasn’t Bible studies.
These startling revelations leave Hurse silent, staring forward with blank, almost emotionless eyes. There is something going on beneath the surface, his turbulent thoughts bumping and colliding with one another as he attempts to make sense of it all. Unfortunately he just can’t, so smiles and shakes his head.
Hurse: You don’t know what your talking about, Robin Brooks wouldn’t do that to me. She love....
Jackson: What, she loves you? Bullshit. She’s using you Steven, she’s using you to get some exposure, and more importantly to completely destroy the Alpha Generation. Nobody loves you Steven....
Desolation: Ahem...
The Dark Man does a fake cough as Jackson glances at him then shakes his head quickly.
Adams: Okay, besides Desolation. Don’t be an idiot though Hurse, don’t think you can trust that sly bitch who opens her legs for anything with the necessary equipment.
In a fit of anger, losing his mind momentarily, Hurse shoves Jackson backwards with force, stepping towards him with an outstretched finger, his lips trembling in anger.
Hurse: Don’t talk about her like that Jackson. You don’t know anything....
Jackson: I know more than you Steven. I know you and Robin are the cause of all our troubles. If your too blind to see that then you’re a God damned idiot. Which I guess you would have to be in the first place for crawling into bed with that gutter slut. Who obviously you can’t satisfy since she’s off riding Killjoy’s cock now..
The World Champion clinches his fist and tries to get at Adams only to have his arm grabbed by Desolation. The Dark Man keeps him held back, from getting at Adams as Too Magnificent puts his palms to JA’s chest, pushing him backwards.
Hurse: Get him the hell out of here! I swear to God, I’ll kill you Jackson, I’ll kill you! Or have you booked in matches against Orlando Cruze for the rest of your life, whatever is worse!
The World Champion is trying to get free while Jackson lowers his head, realizing he may have went too far. Too Magnificent leads him out of the dressing room though while Hurse breaths deeply, fuming in outrage. Desolation puts his hands on his shoulders though, trying to calm down the World Champion.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
THE BIGGEST PARTY OF THE YEAR COMES TO DVD
A COMPUTER MALFUNCTION
Haphazardly Bitchcakes staggers around a large construction vehicle in the outside parking lot, pursuing referee Stuart Wright who seems to be just arriving on the scene this evening, a bag over his shoulder and agitation weighing heavily on his face. Although clearly irritated, McPhee doesn’t give up in pleading his case to the quick moving Wright, perhaps hoping to outrun Bitchcakes who is getting out of breath just walking after him.
McPhee: Listen, you’re the head referee, you got to tell them that they made a mistake, that I’m not 620 pounds. I only weight 206 if that, and yes, I’ve been dieting. I’ve only eaten beef jerky this whole week. I got to be below the legal weight limit to challenge for the title. Boy, why did that sound familiar....
Bitcchakes stops for a second, putting his finger to his chin before it dawns on him.
Bitchcakes: Oh yeah, I do use the words, “legal limit” a lot when talking to the police. God that rolls off of the tongue, legal limit, legal limit, limit legal, legalized marijuana, wait, what was I talking about again. Hey, wait!
The drunken superstar runs around the large piece of machinery after the referee, who is almost inside of the building at this point. He barely catches up with him before he can step through the double doors.
McPhee: So are you going to explain this to the head honchos, let them know what kind of shit for brains they have? Look at me, you can tell without even weighing me that I’m no freaking 620 pounds. Why can’t you all just admit you made a clerical error? It’s not like I’m trying to get you to admit that you’re my daddy. You’re not are you?
Wright finally spins around, much to irritated to keep listening to the drunken slurs and rants he’s being bombarded with.
Wright: Listen Bitchcakes, regardless of rather I’m head referee, or that I can quite clearly see that your of the legal weight to challenge for the belt, there’s nothing I can do. My hands are tied on this. You’ll just have to wait till the weigh in later tonight to find out if you’ve reached weight for the title match or not. That’s all I can tell you.
The official turns to enter the building quickly before McPhee grabs him by the jacket, keeping him from entering. Wright glares down at the hand gripping his windbreaker as Bitchcakes tries to make sense out of all this.
Bitchcakes: But we don’t need a weigh in. Look at me, look at me! Sure most my body is comprised of fat rolls on top of fat rolls, but I’m still only 206. Why is there nothing you can do about this?
Again the head referee takes a deep breath before placing his hand on Bitchcakes’ shoulder, trying to explain this rationally.
Wright: Well, I guess you do deserve an explanation, especially considering that you’ll forget it ten minutes from now anyhow. You see, the IWC head-brass, whomever they may be, has told us that they spent a whole hell of a lot of money to have a crane brought in just to carry you to the ring incase you were unable to go from 620 to 240 by time for the title match.
The ref gestures towards the crane parked in the middle of the lot, the very same one they walked by, Bitchcakes looking up at every inch of it in astonishment.
Wright: So they kind of really want to use it considering it cost so much. That’s why you have to wait till the weigh in, till they’re absolutely sure they wasted their money. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m already late.
Thankfully, for Wright at least, he’s able to open the doors and step inside, leaving a flabbergasted, utterly confused McPhee behind.
Bitchcakes: Wait, you mean to tell me I’m being screwed because the boss is a cheap bastard who can’t type for shit!?! How is this fair!?! How!?!
McPhee storms back and forth, his hand placed over his eyes while he thinks to himself, attempting to come to a solution as to how to deal with this problem. Clearly they’d catch onto their mistake once they see how much weight he lost in the months prior to coming back to IWC, and there was no way they could mistake him for 620 pounds. On the other hand, the crane was there, and it was damned pretty.
Robin: Well hey there Bitchcakes.....
The sound of Robin Brook’s voice jars McPhee a bit, who steps back with his hand over his heart, glaring into the enchanting features of the X-Class Champion. Maybe he is struck more by the golden luster of the title over her shoulder than her beauty. A bag mounted on wheels is being dragged behind her while she approaches the doors, only taking a second to speak with McPhee before entering the Manhattan Center.
Bitchcakes: Oh, hey, you...
Her name obviously escapes McPhee presently while his eyes shift about, desperately struggling to try and remember who she is. Robin’s eyes open widely while she leans towards Bitchcakes a bit, sounding it out for him.
Brooks: Rooooobbbiiiinnn.
McPhee: Oh yeah, Robin, Robin, how you doin?
Robin shrugs her shoulders, unable to confirm her present emotional standing.
Robin: Alright I guess, a little upset the airline delayed my flight so long, but otherwise I’m okay. Looking forward to our match tonight, hoping your able to give me a good challenge for my title.
Bitchcakes: Fat chance of that happening..
The doubt coming from McPhee causes Robin’s interest to be peaked, feeling somewhat sympathetic for the portly performer.
Brooks: Why do you say that?
McPhee is almost too ticked to say it, or perhaps he’s already forgotten.
Bitchcakes: Well, not only has the IWC refused to help in the investigation of my stolen beer, but now they’re saying I’m not of weight to challenge for the belt. I’m 206 pounds for Christ sakes. I’m really thinking about suing for sexual harassment.
Robin: I think something else more intrusive needs to happen to you before you can do that. But listen, since I’m kind of eager to defend my title tonight, how about I help you out. I’ll help you exercise all night long so your in peak physical condition to not only challenge me for my belt but also to show those idiots who run the place how fit you actually are when the weigh in comes about.
Bitchcakes seems amused at the thought of making others appear foolish, rather than doing so to himself. After stroking the chair on his chin before realizing he’s actually scratching his nostril hairs, McPhee nods eagerly.
Bitchcakes: Okay, when they see the raw physical specimen standing before them in nothing more than his tighty whities, they’ll have to realize how foolish they are, and how badly they’ve been both misrepresenting and mistreating me. Let’s do it Robin.
He stares down at her eagerly before Brooks reaches out with her hand, placing it to his chin and pushing his head up so his eyes aren’t locked entirely on her chest while making these comments. Once they are eye level, Robin puts on a reassuring smile.
TOO MAGNIFICENT VS. CALVAN GREEN
A fast paced single guitar solo begins playing throughout the arena right before a loud pyro explodes at the top of the ramp. The lights immediately change to a dark gold as "The life" by Dope begins to play which immediately gets boos from the IWC crowd. After a slight pause Calvan steps out from behind the curtains. Calvan slaps his chest lightly before pointing out into the crowd and singing along with his theme song. Lightly headbanging to it he stops pointing into the crowd as they continue to boo him. Reaching the bottom of the ramp be raises both hands up to his mouth and kisses them. Then stretching them completely apart he blows as if sending the kisses into the crowd. Twirling around with both arms extended at the bottom of the ramp he turns slides into the ring. He delivers several pelvet thrusts to the mat while grinning, before finally standing back up and walking over to the other side of the ring. Balancing himself on the middle rope he raises both arms up halfway in the air, posing for the crowd one last time while brushing away bits of his coat to show off his abs before jumping down and turning back toward the center of the ring. He takes off his fur coat and throw it over to the side for it to be taken away to ringside by a crew member.
Douglas: Ladies and gentlemen, what a wild show this has been thus far, and now you see Calvan Green, an SCW representative marching out here for competition in an IWC ring.
Mayne: This show couldn’t get anymore zanier if it were booked by the fucking Cookie Monster. We’re only half way through, and already we now have Calvan Green from the SCW here to face Too Magnificent. Apparently, according to the smart marks on the internet, you know those guys who have never touched a thigh unless it belonged to themselves, this match came about due to a challenge that was thrown up on the SCW website by Too Magnificent, who is looking for a more well rounded group of opponents.
Dan: And yet Calvan Green is the one who answers said challenge, so I don’t think Too Mag got exactly what he wanted out of the deal. Although Calvan has shown he has a lot of potential, and has done some things in SCW, he doesn’t exactly take a lot of time to hone his craft.
Billy: The man spent two months on the shelf because he got a freaking eye lash in his eye. Regardless of rather Too Mag’s hand is bound behind his back or not, this thing should be over in a matter of seconds. Seconds I say!
The Most Sadistic by Necro hits the PA system which forces the fans to watch on with outrage, booing as Too Magnificent strolls through the curtains onto the stage with his hand cuffed behind his back. He moves down the ramp with intense, angry eyes, full of emotion, obviously overwhelmed by it backstage due all the trouble brewing within the Alpha Generation. He climbs up onto the apron and stares a hole right through Calvan, who’s back is turned to face his opponent. Instead of turning around to greet him he leans against the cables, chatting with ring announcer Kaily Wolf, who is already handing him her phone number.
Dan: And there you see him, hand already bound behind back for this Roster’s Revenge match up.
Mayne: But Calvan is not even on the roster. Again, according to the smart marks, people probably still masterbating while they cook their dinners, Calvan looks down on the IWC, in favor of, hahaha, SCW. Sorry, I tried not to laugh when I uttered that phrase.
Douglas: That is true, the roster part, not the masterbation part.
Inside of the ring Too Magnificent is glaring straight into the face of the ever arrogant Calvan Green, who saunters around the ring in almost defiance, showing little to no worry over his impending opposition. He takes a second to slip the shades of his eyes down to the tip of his nose, overlooking Too Mag, sizing him up while a bit repulsed. Calvan then does a 180 once his eyes meet with Too Mag’s, the furious features of the psychotic first ever Livewire Champion also taking a moment to examine his opponent, contemplating what pains he’ll force upon him. Calvan forces a smirk, a condascending one to his face and extends his hand outward in the direction of Too Magnificent, his right hand however. Knowing full well that Too Mag’s right is chained behind his back.
Calvan: Put it there bud, it’s not very often you get to touch a star of my magnitude.
Too Mag overlooks the crowd in repulsion while nodding his head slowly, Calvan sticking his hand outstretched. He glances down into his palm then back up into the face of Too Magnificent, appearing flabbergasted.
Calvan: Oh, we have a poor sportsman on our hands here I guess.
Some fans chuckle, others just shout defaming material at Calvan, which only forces a smirk to his face before he turns back towards Too Magnificent, swallowing a left fist right to the face. Calvan is knocked down, rolling quickly to his feet before rushing forward into another left right to his features. The force knocks Calvan down to the canvas with his sunglasses flying off across the ring. Too Mag then plants himself, bending forward as he prepares for one more strike with his free hand, watching Green get up with his back turned in his direction. The dazed Calvan spins around when Too Magnificent steps forward for another right hand only for Green to put his palms out, begging off it seems.
Calvan: Hold on, hold on, hold on. Watch this shit.
For no apparent reason Calvan places his hands to the canvas, doing a headstand before swinging his body around in several contortions and different directions. His legs are stuck up high in the air while he break dances in front of a confused, bewildered Too Magnificent. Finally, in the middle of twisting and turning while standing on his head and hands, his body falls to the canvas side first. A bright smile is present on his face while his head rests against his palm and a giant smile is plastered on his face. He almost seems to be a seductive pose while cameras flash at ringside. Calvan gets to his knees and does a Herculean pose for the cameras while Too Magnificent stands back, smirking somewhat and shaking his head.
Douglas: What the hell is this? Why is Calvan Green busting a move and striking a vogue for the cameras at ringside? Does this man not even realize that he’s in the middle of a match right now?
Mayne: I don’t think he cares.
Calvan smirks towards Too Magnificent and gives him two thumbs up before the Alpha Gen member steps forward, blasting him straight to the face with a boot shot. Green is taken down to the canvas across his back, rolling across the ring before Too Mag steps in, blasting him across the sternum with a hard open hand chop. He then grabs him by the wrist, whipping him across the ring with his one free hand. The force sends Calvan rushing into the turnbuckle with enough momentum to crash into it then do a flip over the corner where he lands feet first on the apron. As soon as he does, he begins to strut while shouting cat calls at, himself. Too Magnificent comes rushing in with a burst of speed to take him off the apron before Calvan side steps him coming in, launching a kick over the top rope right into his face. The strike stumbles Too Mag, who steps backwards across the ring as Green grabs the top rope, getting his first and only advantage in this contest. He springs up onto the top rope now but slips and twists, crashing back first onto the canvas, completely blowing any move he had originally intended to hit coming off those cables. Too Magnificent watches this while regaining his senses, glancing about at the fans with confusion.
Mayne: Look at this, Calvan Green could fuck up making Ramen noodles.
Douglas: He went for something big but slipped on that rope. Maybe the cable has a bit of condensation on it.
Billy: Don’t make excuses for Calvan’s poor work ethic.
Green is completely laid out by that botched springboard attempt as Too Mag shrugs his shoulders and places his foot on Calvan’s chest.
1
2
Calvan gets his shoulder up, sitting up in time to hold the back of his neck and receive a vicious boot to the skull from Too Magnificent. The force of which causes Calvan to go into convulsions on the canvas, rolling across it while gripping the back of his neck. The one handed Too Magnificent steps in and drills him to the jaw with a right hand before leading him to his feet and taking him by the wrist. He whips him across the ring only for Calvan to finally turn and catch Too Magnificent around the ankle. He pulls Too Mag forward into a drop toe hold, planting the big man face first into the canvas before Green stands up, charging into the ropes at his side. He bounces off, coming back in then flipping forward with a huge leg drop across the back of Too Mag’s head. Some of the fans clap, appreciating the move while others just continue to harass Calvan as he rises to his feet, waiting for Too Magnificent. The big enforcer of the Alpha Generation gets to his knees when Green steps in, and moves up him, connecting with a step up inzugari to the back of his head. The force of which seems to knock Too Magnificent almost unconscious as he tumbles forward onto the canvas, Green turning towards him with quickness. Calvan scoots across his knees and pushes Too Mag over onto his back, about to go for a pinfall but instead changing his mind. He rises to his feet, even though he may have the victory and decides to rush forward and jump into the air, flipping through it with a standing shooting star press that almost fails to connect with Too Mag whatsoever. His chest barely glances off Too Mag’s forehead before he goes for the pinfall once again.
Douglas: Well, Calvan going for the pinfall, but then deciding he needed to perform one more spot.
Mayne: The man learned to wrestle by playing Super Nintendo, and I only pray it was an actual wrestling game, and not Mario Brothers.
Green has the cover, slapping the canvas, demanding that the referee make the count.
1
2
Too Magnificent gets one shoulder from the canvas, the one not attached to a restrained hand. He turns onto his side while Calvan gets to his feet, looking flustered by the speed of the officials count. Green then drops to his palms, his legs lifted up above him before he twists his body around into a break dance like leg drop, the Breakdown. But it connects with nothing but canvas, Too Mag sitting up at the last second and avoiding it. Calvan now sits on the canvas, shouting in horrible pain from his bum, almost overselling the extent of his injuries. He rolls to his knees and rises to his feet when Too Magnificent drills him to the face, then does it once again. Each shot staggers Calvan, before Too Mag kicks him by the gut and grabs him by the back of the head, charging him at one of the turnbuckles. Calvan turns and reverses it though, grabbing the back of Too Mag’s head and instead throwing him into the corner. The sadistic Too Magnificent turns, hitting the turnbuckle hard back first before Calvan starts to spin in circles in the middle of the ring, turning towards his opponent in a judo like stance. He does a cartwheel followed by a back flip into a handspring back elbow that again misses it’s mark, Too Magnificent stepping out of the way in the nick of time. Calvan hits the corner and is launched forward into Too Magnificent who reaches out, catching Green by the throat with his one good hand. Green’s eyes widen before he is lifted into the air with a one arm chokeslam only for Calvan to counter by squirming free. He slips around the arm, dropping down in front of Too Magnificent who goes rushing forward into the cables. All the while Calvan is making a cross motion along his chest, thankful he wasn’t hit with the chokeslam, but not looking up in time to avoid the massive lariat from Too Magnificent. Calvan is sent into a corkscrew before he comes crashing down onto his back, Too Magnificent stumbling forward after hitting such a brutal lariat. He shakes his arm before planting himself, scowling in the direction of Calvan who is slowly starting to force himself up to his feet. Green shakes his head, knocked through a loop by that last lariat as Too Mag waits anxiously for him to stand up, perhaps looking to officially end this match. Just as Calvan rises to his feet though he looks at his hand, spotting that one of his nails have been broken. Immediately Green drops down to the canvas, grabbing his hand and kicking his legs. One would almost think he’s going into a temper tantrum but actually he seems to be convulsing in pain as a result of the broken nail. Too Magnificent sighs and rolls his eyes before attempting to get at Calvan only for the official to jump in his way, blocking his path.
Douglas: What the hell? Calvan looks legitimately hurt, but not because of that lariat, it seems to be due to a, broken nail?
Mayne: Oh come on now. You mean to tell me Calvan Green has injured himself because he chipped a nail? This is ridiculous.
The referee gets down and checks on Calvan, who shouts that he can’t possibly continue as a result of his broken nail. This forces the official to turn, motioning for the bell which rings in the background. Too Magnificent appears stunned by all this while the referee makes an “X” with his arms, EMTs rushing from the back, dragging a stretcher out with them. The referee is shouting something at ring announcer Kaily Wolf through the ropes. Kaily looks bewildered but lifts the mic to her lips nevertheless.
Kaily: Um, ladies and gentlemen, referee Stuart Wright has stopped this match due to injury!?!
The crowd boos and immediately begins a bullshit chant while EMTs are gathered around Calvan, who is still lying on his back, holding his hand in pain. They try to check on his nail but Calvan pulls away, refusing to let them see it. Too Magnificent is outraged by this, continuing to stand in the corner while marching back and forth.
Mayne: You got to be shitting me. This is absolute crap!
Douglas: Nice of you to work so many fecal matter references into your comments Billy, but I agree, they cannot stop this match because Calvan broke a nail.
Too Magnificent looks livid, wanting to get his hands on Calvan but the EMTs are calling for a backboard to be brought into the ring so that they can transport the mildly injured SCW representative. Green is finally showing off his war wound, a nail that is slightly cracked as the EMT observes it.
EMT: Can you walk?
Calvan: What do you think? Of course I can’t walk, I’m seriously injured here? Where the hell did you get your license to practice medicine? Some back alley in Mexico?
The back board is brought into the ring now and positioned beside Calvan. One EMT slips a brace around Calvan’s neck while he’s turned onto his side then brought back onto the board. The EMTs carefully lift Calvan into the air while he still grips at his broken nail, Too Magnificent standing back, watching all of this in a now mildly agitated state. Calvan is placed on a stretcher and being wheeled to the back now with the fans booing as well as pelting things at him as he passes by. Inside the ring, referee Wright is starting to remove the handcuff from Too Mag’s wrist when....
I HOPE YOU’RE SATISFIED!
....Hits the PA system and gets the crowd to their feet, everyone going nuts at the sight of GM AWOL emerging through the curtains, waltzing onto the stage.
Mayne: Now what the hell is he doing here? He better show one ounce of integrity and come to this ring to raise Too Mag’s arm in dedication to this hard fought victory.
Douglas: Would you stop it already? Calvan broke a damn nail and was apparently so debilitated by such an injury he couldn’t compete any further. This was hardly a hard fought victory.
Too Magnificent sneers in the direction of AWOL, who has a microphone planted in his hand a slight smile plastered on his face.
AWOL: Hold on there Stuart, don’t take those handcuffs off him just yet.
Too Mag shouts at AWOL in anger, wanting his wrist free of this apparatus.
AWOL: No, no, because this match isn’t over!
The fans cheer and Too Mag shouts in anger.
Mayne: WHAT!?!
AWOL marches back and forth on the stage while Too Magnificent looks frantic and irate in the ring.
AWOL: Since Calvan Green is unable to compete on this oh so special night, I guess I’ll have to find you a replacement opponent. No, no, I’ll do you one better, I’ll find you several replacement opponents. Namely a group of individuals who took offense to what you did to one of their own two weeks ago with a steel chair. Therefore, ladies and gentlemen, Too Magnificent’s opponents for this evening, the Loons!
A massive ovation comes from the crowd as some rather odd techno music hits the PA system and through the curtains begin to rush the most dominate stable in wrestling history, okay, maybe that’s a bit of an exaggeration, nevertheless it’s the Loons. They are led by a pumped up Bob, who makes his way to the ring with his head lowered and his eyes brazen with hate.
Bob: YOU BIG MEAN!
His shout is directed at Too Magnificent who looks back and forth in a state of disgust over what is transpiring here. AWOL chuckles as Banjo Pickin Ron moves past him, followed by Naked Ned with a referee’s whistle in his lips, throwing flags down all around him. Pissin in the Wind David Fields is living up to his name, using his genitalia to create a human sprinkler while spinning in circles and moving down the ramp.
Mayne: This just goes from bad to worse! How can AWOL be malicious enough to put Too Magnificent in there against the Loons!?!
Douglas: Are you sure you meant malicious? I think the word you were looking for, was “entertaining.” This is great, the Loons get a chance at revenge against Too Mag for bashing Bob in the head with a chair last week. Of course, I doubt they even know why they’re out here, and who Too Magnificent even is.
Naked Ned is the first to slide into the ring and shake his member in Too Mag’s direction only to be leveled with a hard big boot right to the face. Too Magnificent stands over him, shouting in his direction before Nick F. Harris jumps on his back, clawing at his eyeballs. With his one hand Too Mag reaches up, grabbing Nick by the hair then throwing him hard over his shoulder with almost a snapmare. Nick crashes onto his back then rolls over as Too Mag bounces off the ropes and comes back in with a lariat that takes him down.
Mayne: Hahaha, Too Magnificent is destroying the Loons!
Douglas: Well, I’m not sure even half these guys realize they’re entering a wrestling ring, let alone know how to use a wrestling move to bring Too Mag down.
Pissin In the Wind David Fields has climbed up onto one of the turnbuckles with his urinating genitalia caught in his hands. He unleashes a golden shower while jumping at Too Mag who turns and catches him across the throat, somehow avoiding the spray. With one hand Too Magnificent intends on chokeslamming the struggling Pissin in the Winds before a giant ham is lobbed into the back of his head. Too Mag unleashes Pissin in the Wind before he stumbles forward into the ropes, Bob entering the ring behind him, the culprit of the thrown ham. Ron is also climbing up onto the apron with banjo in hand. Too Magnificent turns towards Bob and comes rushing in with a lariat that the obese mnoose master ducks under, avoiding. This causes Too Mag to continue stumbling forward right into a banjo shot between the eyes. The banjo busts into pieces as Too Magnificent staggers backwards into a blubbery clothesline to the back of the head from Bob. Too Magnificent is knocked onto his chest and stomach from the collision before he rolls onto his back, appearing out cold at this point in time.
Mayne: No, not the Banjo Shot of doom!
Douglas: Too Magnificent has finally been taken down by some vengeful Loons. I shudder to think of what they’ll do to him now that he’s at their mercy.
Ron enters the ring with Bob steps towards Too Magnificent, straddling him now before dropping down with all his girth right into the chest of the Alpha Generation member. Too Mag’s legs kick into the air while he is pinned under the folds of fat that comprise Bob’s body. The biggest of the Loons looks around with a smile on his face before motioning for Ron and Pissin in the Wind David Fields. Ron drops down over top Too Mag’s head and forces his mouth open with his hands as David Fields steps over him. The crowd is screaming as Fields prepares to urinate into Too Mag’s mouth. Just then Too Magnificent squirms and slides out from under Bob’s bum, before rolling to the outside of the ring, escaping the Loons.
Mayne: Oh thank God, Too Magnificent escaping the ring before he could swallow some David Fields homemade lemonade. I can’t believe how bad this night has been for the Alpha Generation thus far.
Dan: They’ve made their beds and now the roster is forcing them to lye in them.
Billy: You just gave me a disturbing mental image of Too Magnificent lying in bed with Loons, I hope your happy about that!
Too Magnificent steps around to the edge of the ramp, backing up it now while glaring in outrage at the ring. He points in the direction of the Loons, almost insinuating that this isn’t over. However, the Loons don’t look worried, and instead seem to be attempting to break dance like Calvan Green was earlier as their entrance music hits the PA system once again.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
ANSWERS
A huge smile is plastered across the face of GM AWOL who moves slowly towards his dressing room door. He’s actually quite amused by what he just had done to Too Magnificent by those deranged Loons. Strangely, for once he’s so pleased with himself he actually conjures forth a smile. That is until he grabs the knob of the door, twisting it and stepping inside where the lights rise to find the War Angel himself, Chapel seated inside. He is sat perched on AWOL’s desk, sitting upon it with his hands clasped, his whole body very tense. The Livewire Champion glistens while about his shoulder, his callous, uncaring eyes absorbing the presence of the General Manager, who has paused in the doorframe, finger still stuck under the light switch. Slowly a grin comes to AWOL’s face before he moves forward into his own office, which has seemingly almost been taken over by the War Angel.
AWOL: Chapel, I’d say it was nice for you to drop in unexpectedly, but we both know I’d be lying.
Almost as strange as the smile that found it’s way to AWOL’s face, a mild chuckle slivers from between Chapel’s teeth at the conclusion of the GM’s honest assessment.
Chapel: That’s what I’ve always admired about you AWOL, you never run out of ways to piss people off.
AWOL: It’s a gift, am I not suppose to use it?
The GM keeps the pleasant grin on his face for the time being while moving around his desk, towards his seat, Chapel adjusting himself to maintain a watchful eye on the former World Heavyweight Champion.
Chapel: Of course not, especially since your so good at utilizing your so called gift. Like when it comes to me, and how I’ve been booked lately.
As AWOL slides into his seat, annoyance overtakes the smile that was once present on his face.
AWOL: Oh, is this the part where you piss and moan for twenty minutes and act like I give a shit?
Again the War Angel is incapable of keeping himself from unleashing a slight chuckle. Amused by AWOL’s constant digs and verbal jabs at him. But his amusement is sure lived as his fists clench and his knuckles dig into the table, leaning forward so that he and his former Holy War teammate are inches removed from one another.
Chapel: No, this is the part where I warn you to stop playing with my life AWOL. To stop putting me in the middle of a war I have no interest in fighting. To stop trying to get me to pick sides, when I’m really quite content on my own.
AWOL: Well see, that’s where your mistaken, Chaps.
His words seem almost condescending, but packed full of wisdom, just like the expression on his face.
AWOL: If you think you can stay out of this, your way off course. Because like I told you a few weeks ago, having that belt over your shoulder, automatically makes you a prime target for the Alpha Generation. It’s just a matter of time before they get around to taking it from you. And they will, believe me. If I’m out of the picture, if the roster is beaten, they will stop at nothing until they get what is yours. They’ll find some way to screw you out of it Chapel. It’s just a matter of time. So you might as well as deal with it now, rather than later. Get rid of the Alpha Generation with the help of the IWC roster, and maybe you’ll be able to keep that title over your shoulder a little longer, you know, until I come out of retirement and drastically lower my standards.
The GM’s fingers are interlocked and placed over his gut while he leans back in his chair, eying Chapel, who takes a step back. He stands up right and glances at his reflection in the surface of the Livewire Championship before staring back into the smug face of his former friend.
Chapel: You know AWOL, when you say stuff like that, it makes me start to think you really care about little old me.
A crude half smirk settles on AWOL’s face.
Chapel: But the fact remains. I still don’t give a damn about fighting your battles for you. I might still have an inkling of respect for you AWOL, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to sell my soul by standing up for your principles again. So after tonight, keep me out of your little vendetta. Oh, and most importantly, stop teaming with Psycho. The son of a bitch has still yet to prove himself to me, and I doubt tonight will be any different.
The War Angel turns and grabs the doorknob, pulling on it and about to exit before AWOL gets in the last word, as he’s quite accustom to doing.
AWOL: You know Chapel, we really got to work on your trust issues. It seems to me that Psycho already has proven himself, and you’re the only person left with something that needs to be proved. But not to me, and not to the roster, yourself.
AWOL turns in his chair so that his back is facing Chapel, who twists his angered eyes to settle on a man who was once as close to him as a brother. He finally opens the door and steps out into the hallway, begrudgingly accepting his fait for the night.
Chapel: Pfft, whatever Yoda.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
AVAILABLE ON DVD
RUNNING FAT
Sweat races down the exhausted face of Bitchcakes McPhee, dressed hilariously in a blue sweat-suit, that almost looks like leotards. His legs kick frantically beneath him while he grips the handbars of the treadmill he is walking, almost running on. He pants and wheezes heavily while jogging briskly now, trying to pick up some momentum. Every time he tries though his head falls forward, almost fainting and as thus flying off the treadmill. Even the inspirational pleas of Robin Brooks don’t help, while she stands and shouts encouragingly off to the side of the treadmill. She has a stop watch in her hand, examining the numbers as they go by quickly.
Robin: Come on Bitchcakes, your doing great, just keep running. We’re really going to make those owners pay for their poor data entry skills.
McPhee: No more, no more, can’t take anymore...
Robin appears disappointed while glaring at the back of McPhee’s head while he almost throws himself over the railing to his side, trying to escape from the treadmill. His legs instinctively kick beneath him, keeping him upright while an ocean of sweat seeps from his face. He can barely breathe after such a strenuous activity.
Bitchcakes: I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe at all. How long have I been going Coach?
The stop watch comes to an end as Robin presses the button then acts astonished by the time it’s reading.
Robin: Wow Bitchcakes, you went a whole two minutes....
McPhee smiles even in his incredibly drained, tired state of being.
McPhee: Yay, that’s two minutes longer than my last jog.
The exhausted McPhee shuts off the treadmill while his knees buckle beneath him, almost falling over. His arms, which are stuck over the railings, are the only things keeping him upright. Robin shakes her head at this ghastly, pathetic sight before her.
Brooks: How the hell did you ever lose over fifty pounds. That’s it, no more rest, start back up the treadmill.
McPhee groans loudly before hitting the button and letting the treads move under his feet, but not running at all, just keeping his arms stuck over the rails. While Robin watches this increasingly sad attempt at exercise a figure appears behind her, none other than backstage correspondent Susie Moore. She steps towards Robin with a wide smile on her face and the microphone held to her lips, obviously excited to have caught up with the X-Class Champion.
Susie: Hey Robin, how’s it going?
Brooks turns around, and although she’s a bit flabbergasted by Bitchcakes’ lack of improvement she smiles at the overly excited, and mentally unsound Susie Moore.
Robin: Oh, hi Hun, I’m doing fine. Just trying to get my opponent ready for our match tonight.
Susie nods, even though there should be plenty of them, she has absolutely no follow up questions. It fills her face with confusion, as she begins to wonder why she even came to talk to Robin in the first place. That’s before she grins and pushes onward, making a point out of the pointless.
Moore: That is interesting Robin. Wouldn’t it be smarter to make sure Bitchcakes didn’t weigh in tonight at the legal limit to challenge you for the title?
The mic is thrust back out in Robin’s direction, having to side step it a bit to keep from behind hit in the lips with it actually.
Brooks: That’s one school of thought Susie, but to be honest with you, I actually enjoy being challenged. I don’t want to go out there and have this be just any other match with no real meaning behind it. I want this match to stand out in people’s minds as being a classic for the X-Class title. Besides, I’m sure Bitchcakes would have weighed in regardless of my help. There’s no way he’s 620 pounds. If that were true I’d be smaller than one of his thighs, and he’d have cankles.
Susie: My great aunt has those, it makes her look funny when she wears sandals and shorts, hehehehe. Which she does anyway. Real short shorts that let part of her butt flab hang out. My great aunt really is quite disgusting. Here I have a picture of her bending over in the backyard to pick up a twinkie she dropped, want to see it. It’s actually more of a small poster than a picture.
Susie begins to dig in her blue jeans pocket for her wallet before Robin politely puts her hands up and shakes her head.
Robin: No thanks. I’ll pass just this once.
Moore: Are you sure, it really does wonders for you if you want to throw up anything you just ate.
Robin nods, reassuring her that she has no interest in seeing the picture. Therefore Susie pushes the wallet back into her pocket and turns her attention to the Black Widow once again, trying to be all business for a change.
Moore: So Robin, if your so sure he’s going to reach weight, then why go through with all these exercises? Isn’t this just wearing him out so it can make your match against him that much easier?
The thought seems to contradictory to everything Robin has said, and almost a bit offensive to her. She shakes her head and again thrust her palms outward, trying to explain this so even Susie would understand. Hand gestures apparently captivate Susie more than anything else.
Brooks: I’m not thinking about it like that. Besides I’ll be exercising too, and getting myself ready for the match. If anything, having him do all this cardio, amongst other workouts is only making him stronger when it comes time for our match this evening. Plus, if they see that he’s been working out, and developed a little more muscle, the head bosses, whomever they may be will have no other option but to grant him his title shot tonight.
The generosity displayed here seems to astonish and inspire Susie.
Susie: You know, you really are like Mother Theresa, just without the bad skin and that dorky headdress she always wore.
Robin again just shrugs her shoulders and nods her head before Susie glances behind her at the treadmill, perplexed by something.
Moore: Huh, I was wanting to get a word with Bitchcakes McPhee, but now he’s vanished.
With urgence, Robin turns to glare at the now vacant treadmill, Bitchcakes nowhere in sight. The X-Class Champion clearly becomes a little worried about this, anxiously walking around the treadmill, passing a broom closet, trying to find him. Susie watches all of this with wondering eyes, also attempting to locate the drunken challenger for the X-Class title later tonight.
Robin: I swear, I can’t turn my back on him even for a second....
Laughter can suddenly be heard, both Robin and Susie perking up at the sound of it. They twist and turn their heads, trying to find the source of the chuckling before their eyes shift to the closet. The satisfied giggles can be heard coming through the cracks of the door before Robin grabs the knob and twists it. She opens the doorway to reveal Bitchcakes McPhee seated inside. A large jar of mayonnaise is positioned between his legs while he dips a stick of beef jerky into it then swallows it down anxiously. Once he spots both Robin Brooks and Susie Moore glaring at him, McPhee dips the jerky into the mayo and holds it out for either one of them to take a bite. Brooks slaps her hand over her face, almost giving up on her Shaq like challenge to whip McPhee into shape. Susie on the other hand, doesn’t hesitate as she bends forward and takes a bite of the mayo covered jerky.
DESOLATION VS. CHAPEL & PSYCHO:
HANDICAP CASKET MATCH
The show returns to the ringside area where the fans are still musing over the previous backstage segment as well as preparing themselves for some more in ring excitement.
Dan: Well, Robin Brooks’ attempts at helping Bitchcakes McPhee get into shape are certainly not working out for him apparently.
Mayne: Damn Bitchcakes for making me crave beef jerky.
Douglas: Well apparently that weight in will happen sometime backstage during the duration of this handicap casket match. We’ll keep you posted on what transpires.
Billy: You know, it just dawned on me, with this being kind of a tribute show to Chris Benoit, isn’t it in really poor taste to have a casket match?
Dan: Billy, that’s just terrible.
Mayne: Too soon?
The arena lights dim and the opening chords of the Rolling Stones' "Paint it Black" echo throughout the arena. Lights begins to flash as the electronic noise of the opening to Tarot's "I Rule." As the distorted strings kick in, the arena lights begin to flash, Desolation's logo appearing on the Jumbotron amongst tremendous heckling and hatred from those gathered fans.
The heavy metals guitars kick in and a spotlight picks Desolation out in the audience, one fist raised in the air.
"I was crowned a king in a womb,
tore my mother apart at birth,
gnawed at my father's bones,
then gave them to the earth!"
Desolation begins to slowly walk down the stairs to the ring, stripping of his black leather duster and stepping onto the ring barricade. He raises his arms straight out from his body, turning his head to the right, and then slowly to the left, looking over the infuriated crowd.
"Bowels of a grave turned loose,
I RULE!"
spat out the one the reaper couldn't use.
Desolation just stands there now on the turnbuckle, glaring off into the direction of the fans, then staring at the oversized black casket that has been left at ringside. It’s top is flat instead of arched, and it seems to be made of a thick durable wood. A grin almost comes to Desolation’s face at the mere sight of it.
Mayne: Although the thought of this match still outrages and offends me, Desolation does not look concerned in the slightest by the presence of that casket at ringside, nor the thought of going into a handicap match.
Douglas: I think Desolation’s confidence is important, but at the same time a bit foolish. As he’s about to endure a very physical war with not one but two individuals who seemingly have a deep seated hatred for the Alpha Generation.
Billy: One man, two men, three men, four men and a dancing Spanish midget, it doesn’t matter, Desolation will defeat them all and keep a grin on his face while he does it.
Desolation apathetically leans back first against the corner, eyeing the casket which remains positioned at ringside, giving off quite the imposing aurora as a matter of fact. The arena lights dim, the stage slowly fills with smoke, the constant banging of the drum's echoes throughout the arena shortly followed by the guitar as the song heats up and gets faster. Blood For Blood by Machine Head finally starts to kick in as The shadow lurks in the smoke, a huge ball of ball spirals up from the rampway and Psycho emerges from the smoke. A hooded sleeveless jacket covers his torso and the hood up... He walks menacingly down to the ring with an icy cold glare in his eyes. The fire now ignites all the way down the ramp as he walks down the fiery corridor towards the ring. He slides into the ring underneath the ropes and de-robes himself, he throws the garment over the ropes to the outside and crouches down in the corner and grasps his hands together and waits... His eyes stare outward at Desolation who remains in opposite corner, tilting his head to get a good glimpse of the former Livewire Champion.
Douglas: Psycho just one of two opponents scheduled to face Desolation here on the night of revenge. By the looks of it, I certainly wouldn’t want to be in a casket match with Psycho, he appears rather distempered as always. Apparently over the weekend he incurred quite the hand injury, which has put him in a very foul mood.
Mayne: Well that’s what Psycho gets for firing off a few knuckle children, they chop off people’s hands for doing that in some countries. But just wait, because if you thought he was in a bad mood before, watch his demeanor after this match, after he’s been forced into that casket. I hope he doesn’t have a fear of tight confined places, or of having a three hundred pound man lying on top of him.
Dan: Psycho may very well live out your fantasies, aye Billy? But we’ll see if Desolation can change the fait of the Alpha Gen tonight, because they certainly have not been fairing very well this evening.
The lights go dim and suddenly red lights begin to flash and light the staging area. The speakers throughout the arena come to life and the scream of ‘REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH!!!’ is heard as “Personal Jesus” by Marilyn Manson begins to play as fire rises around the entranceway. Psycho glares over his shoulder at the entry way, watching closely, very anxious to witness the arrival of his partner this evening, granted with yet another chance to prove his worth to him. But no one materializes from the back, there is no sight of Chapel whatsoever.
Douglas: Ummm, Chapel is suppose to be coming out here right now, but he’s nowhere in sight apparently.
Mayne: Hahahaha, you saw what happened backstage a few moments ago. Chapel said he was not going to be dragged into this war, and apparently he’s taking steps not to be forced into the middle of this crusade by not even bothering to show up for this match.
Dan: This is not what I was expecting whatsoever. I thought Chapel had a little more class than this.
REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH!! Hits the PA system again, many of the fans hoping for a different response from the backstage area this time. Psycho wears a crude, half smirk on his face while Desolation watches on, leaning back first against the corner and growing increasingly bored. A massive form is finally seen shrouded in darkness standing behind the flames that have started shooting again on the stage. As the song hits the hard, echoing chorus for the first time, Chapel walks through the fire and out to the aisle. The massive zealot walks to the ring, his head covered in a black hood and a black trench coat covering his body. He walks up to the side of the ring and stands outside the ropes, a look of distress and annoyance on his face. Clearly he doesn’t want to have anything to do with this match, but goes about it anyhow. The hardcore titan steps into the ring and stands in the center. He slowly removes his coat and tosses it to the side and finally rips off his hood and tosses that to the side as well, revealing his black and white War Angel shirt. With red light filling the ring, Chapel stretches out his arms and lifts up his head looking to the sky. With the lights dying down and his music fading out, Chapel stands in the ring and blesses himself with his taped fists, ready to battle, or as ready as he’s willing to be. Psycho steps towards him and grabs Chapel by the shoulder, spinning him around, immediately questioning him as to why it took so long for him to arrive. In the meanwhile Desolation has rolled to the outside of the ring, walking around it gingerly.
Douglas: Thankfully Chapel has finally shown up, but there’s clearly something bothering him about this whole ordeal.
Mayne: Like I said earlier, and as Chapel has uttered a thousand times before, he doesn’t give a shit about this match. He doesn’t want anything to do with the Alpha Generation, and nothing to do with Psycho as well, who has still failed to prove himself.
The Dark Man stands on the outside of the ring, glaring in straight at both Chapel and Psycho who are both urging him to enter. The former World Champion turns around, snapping at one of the fans who are shouting discouraging comments at him. He then kicks the barricade with force, before pointing right into the face of a rotund fan who is shouting something repeatedly into his face.
Fan: DIE DESOLATION DIE, DIE DESOLATION!
A snide smirk comes to Desolation’s face while listening to these angry shouts from the fan before he cocks his hand back, going to strike him in the face. Before he can his arm is grabbed from behind by a deranged Psycho, spinning Desolation around and grabbing him by the back of the head. Desolation is unable to stop it as he’s charged across the mats then thrown down head first into the steel plate of the barricade. The steel almost crumbles under the force in which his body impacted against it, turning and tumbling onto his posterior as a result. Chapel watches this from the ring with a slight nod of his head, backing into one of the corners, letting Psycho get at Desolation who is trying to force himself to his feet at ringside. The Dark Man utilizes the barricade to stand before Psycho clubs him hard over the back then takes him by the head, dragging him towards the announce table. In this prone state Desolation can’t fight it as he is driven face first into the announce table, bouncing off then turning his back towards it, Billy Mayne appearing outraged while seated behind the table.
Mayne: Would you look at this Dan, this is not fair, this is highway robbery. Not only is Desolation forced to compete in a handicap match, but Psycho is taking the fight right to him at ringside before this thing could even get started. How much further will the stack be decked against Desolation tonight.
Douglas: Until the house of cards that comprises the Alpha Generation completely tumbles, which it might have already done judging by what transpired before this match backstage.
Psycho grabs Desolation by the back of the head again, getting hold of his hair while forcing him away from the table. He tries to whip him at the stairs now before Desolation turns abruptly and catches Psycho under the arm, hip tossing him over onto the mats with a hard thump right across his back. Psycho sits up, grinding his teeth while Desolation rolls into the ring to create some space between himself and his opposition. A dazed Dark Man gets to his feet with the assistance of the ropes before turning towards Chapel who steps in and connects with a right hand under his jaw that takes him down to the canvas to a huge eruption of cheers from the crowd. Desolation rolls across his posterior right back to his feet before eating another right hand that sends him tumbling to the canvas once again. In almost desperation, which is an unusual sight to see Desolation in, he rolls towards the ropes, standing while trying to get through them to the outside of the ring. But Chapel grabs him by the shoulder, spinning him around and standing him up, pushing him back first against the ropes then whipping him towards one of the turnbuckles. Desolation turns, hitting it hard back first while Chapel comes rushing in, going to use his girth to his advantage. Right as he jumps into the air for the big splash Desolation side steps it, causing Chapel to crash hard chest first into the turnbuckle. Desolation then stumbles forward away from the corner behind Chapel but doesn’t spot Psycho who comes off the top rope with a lariat right to his throat. The fans react with another tremendous ovation as Desolation is sent crashing to his back on the canvas, Psycho rolling across the ring as well right onto his knees. Chapel turns towards him as Psycho motions for his partner to dispatch with Desolation by depositing him in the outside casket.
Douglas: They’re going to throw Desolation into that casket already Billy.
Mayne: AWOL should burn in hell for this.
Chapel demands that the oversized casket be opened at ringside, official Chester Princeton doing so promptly. This causes an almost demonic glint to fill Chapel’s eyes before he reaches down, grabbing the hair of a struggling Desolation, dragging him to his feet then placing his hands to his chest and stomach. Chapel gorilla presses Desolation into the air, intent on throwing him into the casket that way with the crowd screaming as a result. However, Desolation reaches down, raking the eyes of Chapel then slipping off his hands, landing on his feet behind his back. Psycho spots this, charging into the cables behind them and bouncing off, rushing in with a huge spear. Desolation turns to spot this before side stepping Psycho and pushing him forward right into Chapel’s gut as the big man turned around. The force of the impact sends Chapel crashing into the canvas with Psycho ending up on his knees at his side, looking stunned by what he just did, sliding his hands into his hair as a result. Strangely, he appears truly apologetic for what he just did to Chapel who rolls across the canvas, holding his ribs in terrible agony.
Mayne: Hahaha, yes, yes, Psycho just speared Chapel!
Douglas: It was an accident, a damn accident Billy. He was shoved forward by Desolation.
Psycho remains on his knees, stunned by what he just accidently did before Desolation bounces off the ropes in front of him then comes rushing in, delivering a huge basement dropkick right to the Sadistic One’s face. Psycho is knocked off his knees and onto his back while the crowd cringes over the stiffness of the impact from both of Desolation’s boots. The bones in Psycho’s already disfigured face seem to have been broken by the impact of the kick while he lies on his back, reaching for his face, completely exposed to Desolation. The Dark Man gets to his feet and steps in with a well timed leg drop across the throat of his burnt opponent then rises to his feet and delivers a quick jumping knee strike to his forehead. Psycho goes into convulsions while Desolation rolls across the canvas, turning onto his knees before scooting in, dropping down into a pin on the massive former Livewire Champion. Princeton shouts from the outside of the ring that he must put Psycho into the casket to eliminate him. This only results in a harsh verbal reaction from Desolation, who insists that he doesn’t care and because of his status the referee should still make the count. They don’t though which causes Desolation to rise in a huff, turning towards Chapel who is utilizing the cables to reach his feet. Right when his toes are planted to the canvas beneath him, Desolation rushes in with a lariat that takes him right over the ropes to the outside of the ring. Chapel flips over them before turning and crashing onto his back with a thud, the Dark Man turning his cold, calculating eyes to a struggling Psycho. The former Livewire and Annihilation World Heavyweight Champion has gotten to a single knee before Desolation plants himself in a judo style pose then delivers one of the stiffest buzzsaw kicks ever heard right to Psycho’s sternum. Instead of the collision knocking him down though, Psycho keeps his knee beneath him, his face filling with tension, with hostility and anger. He begins to challenge Desolation to kick him again, slapping the canvas with both hands before begging for it.
An odd grin comes to Desolation’s face before he steps in and delivers an even stiffer kick right to Psycho’s chest, which almost sends him down this time and causes obvious pain to course through his body. The fans cringe but Psycho forces a chuckle through his lips and now begins to slug his forehead repeatedly to the point where he almost lacerates himself, begging for one more. Desolation shrugs his shoulders then steps in for one last kick, lifting his leg into the air with Psycho preparing himself for it before the Dark Man reaches out, catching his leg around the ankle before it could connect with his anxious opponent. Just as Psycho’s eyes fill with confusion, Desolation lifts up on his leg then releases his ankle, causing his shin to deliver a devastating kick right to the face of the Sadistic One. Another gasp comes from the jam packed crowd as Psycho is knocked onto his back, a far off look inhabiting his eyes.
Billy: That is exactly why you never challenge Desolation to kick you.
Douglas: Psycho’s never been the type to take someone’s word for it, he has to experience the sensation before learning his lesson, and then it’s still a hassle to get it through his thick skull.
Mayne: We won’t have to worry about that anymore, Dan, seeing as I’m pretty sure Desolation just cracked that thick skull right in half.
Psycho rolls across the canvas, a bit of blood seen coming from his nose but a bewildering smile on his face. A grin that only further fuels Desolation’s anger as he steps up behind Psycho, stomping him to the back of the head then grabbing him around the jaw, rolling him to his knees. He pulls him to his feet and then delivers a very stiff chop right across Psycho’s chest, sending him into a spiral before his back hits the cables. However, Desolation takes him by the hair and drags him right away from the ropes, bending his head forward so that his face is aimed towards the canvas. Desolation then delivers a stiff upward kick right to his face, again almost taking Psycho off his feet but instead he falls to a single knee. The Dark Man keeps hold of his hair and then begins to kick him repeatedly to the face now with stiff shin shot to the forehead, after stiff shin shot. The crowd is becoming positively squeamish at the sounds of these kicks that echo throughout the arena before Desolation releases Psycho’s hair and rushes into the ropes at his side to get a running start. He bounces off the ropes then comes back in at Psycho who stands up, catching him under his arm, hoisting him into the air then dropping him down to the canvas with the side slam. A move that connects with authority, driving Desolation hard into the ring, with enough force to cause his back to arch from the canvas and roars of pain to exit his mouth. Psycho sits there with red blotches all over his face as a result of those lethal kicks, trying to get his head straight. On the outside of the ring, Chapel is trying to get to his feet, his ribs killing him after taking the spear from Psycho, who he know sneaks a glimpse of in the ring. He shoots an angry glance in his direction, one filled with questions and doubts, possibly reconsidering how sincere Psycho was in his devotion to becoming a changed man. Nevertheless he starts to drag himself up onto the apron with the assistance of the ropes.
In the ring, which is where he’s slowly headed, Psycho has grabbed Desolation around the jaw, rolling him to his knees then to his feet. He pulls Desolation’s head under his seat before pointing at the casket on the outside of the ring, insinuating that he is going to powerbomb him onto it which causes the crowd to stand in anticipation. Just then though Desolation pulls his head out from under Psycho’s seat and spins around to face the Sadistic One, stepping forward into a lariat that the former Annihilation Champion ducks. Psycho bounces off as Desolation turns to face him, jumping into the air though for a spinning heel kick. Somehow Psycho catches him across his chest though, holding Desolation in the air by the leg and his lower back then throwing him up onto his shoulder in a running powerslam position. Psycho begins to charge forward in the direction of Chapel on the apron before Desolation slides off his shoulder, landing on his feet behind him. Desolation then shoves Psycho forward right into Chapel as he stands up on the apron, the collision sending the War Angel flying off, turning and crashing into the top of the barricade. He then tumbles onto his back while Psycho steps in reverse, appearing stunned over what he just did, yet again unintentionally harming his partner in this handicap match.
Billy: Hahahaha, Psycho has done more damage to Chapel than Desolation has!
Douglas: Again Desolation causing Psycho to unintentionally collide with the War Angel.
Mayne: Oh come on, it’s happened twice now, you know these aren’t accidents.
The fans are still buzzing about what they just witnessed while Psycho stands in front of the ropes, glaring at Chapel who is getting to his feet on the outside of the ring. For once Psycho is shouting apologies for what just happened before Chapel glares at him in outrage then begins to shout in a tone of voice befitting of his mood.
Chapel: That’s it, I’m out of here! I never wanted to be apart of this fucking bullshit anyhow! You want to show me you’ve changed, then do this on your own, I don’t give a shit!
A mixed reaction comes from the fans as Chapel walks around the casket, marching to the backstage area while holding his ribs, not even looking back at Psycho who is still trying to explain himself. He even goes as far as to stand up on the second ropes in one of the corners, shouting at Chapel to come back. But the Livewire Champion will not budge, just keeps marching towards the back. That’s when Desolation low blows Psycho right to the crotch, causing him to double over as the Dark Man shows his agility by jumping onto the ropes behind his crouched opponent. He springs off the second rope then turns, dropkicking Psycho right to the posterior and causing him to flip over the top rope, crashing hard back first right onto the apron. He lies there now, hooking his arm around the bottom rope to keep from crashing to the outside mats, the casket just a few inches removed from where he might land.
Dan: I can’t believe this, Chapel is leaving Psycho high and dry out here.
Mayne: He had a right to be leery of Psycho before this match started, it was obvious that Psycho’s intention was to screw him over in some fashion here.
Douglas: I have to believe that these were just mis-communications, Psycho has seemed very devoted to changing his life as of late.
Billy: He may have had you fooled, but not Chapel.
Psycho starts to get to his feet on the apron, trying to stand up before Desolation drives his shoulder through the ropes right into his gut. Psycho is doubled over as Desolation grabs him by the back of the head, leading him to the portion of the apron with the casket behind his back. Desolation then jumps into the air, spinning and connecting with a hard back heel kick right to Psycho’s jaw, almost sending him tumbling off the apron into the open casket behind him. He holds onto the top rope though with a very dazed expression on his face, slightly agitating Desolation. As Psycho holds onto the ropes the officials behind him start to close the casket lid for reason’s unbeknown to anyone with even the slightest bit of intelligence. Desolation gets a running start this time to ensure that Psycho is sent through the casket, he bounces off the opposite ropes then comes charging in with a great deal of speed. Right as he reaches Psycho though the former Livewire Champion sticks his head under the ropes, right under the seat of Desolation then stands up, back dropping him through the air before he ultimately lands on the hard wooden lid of the casket. Desolation bounces off with a hard collision, rolling across the casket then spilling onto the mats across his back. Psycho turns, realizing that if the casket had just been open, he might have won this match even without the assistance of Chapel, who is now nowhere to be seen. The Sadistic One slips through the ropes while the crowd is still cheering over the violent impact Desolation’s body just took against the casket. With the Dark Man standing up beyond the casket, Psycho rushes across the ring, bouncing off the ropes then coming back in with a great burst of speed before diving through the cables. He flies over top the casket to connect with a suicide headbunt right into Desolation, sending him off of his feet and crashing hard to the outside mats. Psycho rolls across them as well while the crowd is giving him a standing ovation.
The determined Psycho doesn’t take the time to listen to the adulation from the pumped up crowd, instead moving straight towards a dazed Desolation and taking him by the back of the head. He forces him to his feet before ramming Desolation’s face off the top door of the casket. Desolation bounces off hard, stumbling in reverse, turning into circles while staggering across the outside mats. He finally falls into the stairs, using them to hold himself up before he turns glassy eyed towards Psycho, who rushes in with a burst of speed. Desolation steps forward, catching Psycho with a drop toe hold that plants him face first right into the stairs. Psycho’s forehead actually seems to catch the corner of the stair though, bouncing off with force before he tumbles onto his back, rolling across the mats in obvious pain. Again he chuckles to hide his agony though. How long that lasts remains to be seen as Desolation is already moving towards him, forcing Psycho to his feet before taking him by the back of the head and spinning him around in a circle. This builds tremendous momentum before Desolation throws Psycho with all his strength face first into the stairs, sending the top half flying directly into the steel plated barricade. The steps meet with enough force to actually knock one of the plates off while Psycho is draped over the bottom portion of the stairs now, barely able to move after what just took place. A faint little grin remains on his face though, even while lying barely conscious on the bottom steps. Desolation realizes that before he grabs Psycho by the hair, pulling him to his feet with all his strength then turning him towards the casket. Several times Psycho almost falls to the mats but Desolation keeps him upright long enough to force him in the direction of the now opened casket. To add more confusion to this already puzzling situation though, Desolation orders the casket lid to be closed, even though he might be able to finish off Psycho here. Princeton shrugs his shoulders and closes the lid as Desolation pulls a very dazed Psycho to the side of the casket then rolls him over on top of it before entering the ring. This leaves Psycho prone while lying on top of the casket, still blinking his eyes in an attempt to regain his consciousness. He doesn’t do it in time to spot Desolation stepping up the turnbuckle though, getting to the top rope. The fans start to stand as Desolation does the same, balancing himself on the top rope then jumping off, soaring through the air and connecting with a double stomp right to Psycho’s ribs while still lying on top the casket. Desolation turns and tumbles off the casket to the mats below while the crowd is unable to help going nuts over the extremely high risk move they just witnessed.
Dan: Tell me I did not just that!
Mayne: Desolation with a double stomp from the top rope right onto Psycho while he was draped over that casket. The Sadistic One is done, he is out, there’s nothing left of him anymore, both physically and mentally.
Dan: But you fail to take into account the power of the human spirit, Billy.
Billy: I think Desolation’s Double Stomp might have knocked Psycho’s soul out of him, as well as a few other things that he should probably check his underpants for later..
The fans are still standing, screaming in disbelief over what they just witnessed. Now that Psycho is almost completely out of it, Desolation stands and begins to push him off the casket, rolling him onto the apron then opening the lid. Desolation steps up onto the apron in front of Psycho who in a completely disorientated state is trying to force himself to his feet, yet he just can’t seem to get there. Desolation helps him to that standing base though and slaps on a front gantry. He throws Psycho’s limp arm over the back of his neck and then points down at he casket, insinuating that he is going to suplex him inside. The fans start to scream as Desolation lifts up on Psycho’s body only for the former World Champion to become dead weight, landing right back on his feet. Desolation becomes flustered as he again lifts Psycho only for him to once more fall back onto his feet. Gritting his teeth this time, Desolation lifts Psycho once more only to be grabbed around the neck and pulled down onto the apron with a thunderous DDT. The fans react with shock as Psycho was able to twist his body enough to force Desolation face down into the apron, causing him to bounce skull and all against the hard portion of the ring, then turning as he tumbles into the casket.
Douglas: Desolation is in the casket thanks to the DDT on the apron!
Mayne: NOOO!! There’s still a chance, there’s still a chance I tell you. Psycho still has to close the casket lid to win this match.
The battered, bruised, and hurting Psycho uses the ropes to pull himself to a knee, glaring down into the casket before reaching out, grabbing the lid, seconds away from closing it. He swings it down only for a set of hands to reach up from within, blocking it, keeping it from shutting. The crowd boos as Desolation somehow stands up inside of the large casket, a groggy glint in his eyes, but somehow still standing. Psycho keeps trying to push down on the lid now while getting to his knees on the apron but Desolation is using all his strength to keep it open. Suddenly the Dark Man throws a portion of himself over the edge of the casket, leaning between the lid and the rest of it with his head and chest, his arms hanging over the side. This keeps Psycho from being entirely incapable of closing the lid, Desolation’s body forming a wedge to make sure it remains open. The lid is stuck over Desolation’s back before Psycho stands up on the apron then jumps off, sticking his own spine out into a senton splash right on top of the casket lid, driving it down into the shoulder blades and neck of the Dark Man. The crowd goes nuts while Psycho rolls off the casket, dropping to the outside mats and reaching for his back while Desolation stands up. The lid opens all the way with Desolation standing inside of the casket, arching his spine as shockwaves of pain course through his frame. His fingers are dug into his palms, his eyes are opened widely and gasps of pain emanate through his lungs. Psycho isn’t in the best shape either, but slightly better by comparison as he starts to force himself up on the outside mats, stepping around the casket then reaching inside. He wraps his arm around Desolation’s neck then suplexes him out of it right onto the outside mats. Desolation again arches his back off the mats, turning onto his elbow and grimacing in pain, thanks to Psycho who obviously realized it will take a little more softening up before he can lock the Dark Man inside the casket. Therefore Psycho steps behind Desolation and kicks him to the back of the head with force. Desolation covers his head in obvious pain before Psycho rolls him to his feet then into the ring. This gives Desolation only a few moments of time to recover from the bumps he just took on the outside of the ring, Psycho reaching under the squared circle to remove a steel chair. The crowd cheers as he lifts it up into the air above his head, proudly displaying it.
He then climbs up onto the apron and slips through the ropes with the chair in hand, starting to make his way towards Desolation who has rolled into the farthest corner, desperately pulling his sluggish body up the ropes. Psycho stops abruptly though and finds himself staring into the steel cage, contemplating something, he almost seems to be asking what his old self would do in this situation, if this would be the optimal time to prove he’s changed. His entire attention rests on the chair and doubting himself before Desolation unleashes a primal roar, barreling out of the corner towards Psycho who lifts the steel up in front of him for protection. Wrong idea. Desolation jumps into the air after getting a burst of speed and delivers a sensationally stiff front dropkick right to the chair, sending it crashing with tremendous force right into Psycho’s face and chest. The former Livewire Champion almost flips over thanks to the collision of steel meeting skull. He lands on the back of his neck and shoulders then flips over onto his chest and stomach, appearing completely out of it, the chair almost destroying thanks to the intensity of the dropkick.
Mayne: OH MY GOD!! What a dropkick into that chair! I would almost say Psycho was deformed by that impact, but, well, you know, he’s already hideous.
Douglas: Psycho hesitated with that chair and he ended up paying the ultimate price for it.
Billy: Actually, I think the ultimate price for anything would be spending the night with Aurora Rose, but that’s just my idea.
Many fans are still screaming over what they just saw transpire in the ring, Psycho’s head almost knocked clean from his shoulders while he lies stretched across the canvas, showing no motion whatsoever. Desolation sits up on the canvas catching his breath and formulating his gameplan, contemplating exactly how he’ll get Psycho into the casket now after this intense, hard hitting battle between them. He briefly picks up the chair, which is a crumbled mess, much like Psycho and sits on the back of his opposition, approaching the cables at his side. He begins to step up the turnbuckle, turning to face Psycho who is spread across the mats with the chair over the back of his neck before jumping forward. He flips over with a senton bomb right across the chair and the back of Psycho’s head, causing the rotund frame of the Sadistic One to flop on the canvas like an out of the water trout. Desolation sits on the canvas now after delivering another high risk move, something he’s not accustom to doing, but breaking it all out in this now one on one casket match. He defiantly turns in the direction of Psycho who is still spread across the canvas, barely moving. With his opposition in such a prone state Desolation grabs him by the hair, forcing him up to his feet then clasping his arms around his waist, shouting for the casket to be opened on the outside of the ring. The lid is raised as Desolation turns his back to the ropes then lifts Psycho up into the air with a huge belly to belly suplex, flipping him over the ropes and sending him crashing to the inside of the casket.
Mayne: PSYCHO IS IN THE CASKET!
Douglas: But like you said earlier Billy, and just like Desolation demonstrated a few moments ago, that’s just half the challenge.
Mayne: Yeah, I said that about Desolation, but not about Psycho.
Psycho is crumbled inside of the casket, his head leaning forward against his chest and showing zero signs of life. Desolation falls through the ropes knee first onto the apron then reaches out for the lid, grabbing the closest corner of it. He slams it shut to shock from the crowd before Psycho’s finger grip the edge of the casket, pulling himself up and blocking the door from closing. Psycho pushes it up then begins to force himself up out of the casket. Right as he stands up, pushing the lid away, Desolation gets to his feet on the apron right beside him and delivers a devastating buzzsaw kick right into his face. Psycho is knocked onto his back once again before Desolation reaches out, grabbing the lid with the crowd still screaming over what they just heard. Psycho is lying on his back with his nose bleeding more as Desolation extends his hands to grab hold of the casket lid, the ref raising it enough for him to get hold of it. The Dark Man stares down into the features of Psycho, chuckling menacingly to himself before Psycho reaches up and grabs him by the throat. Desolation’s eyes widen as Psycho gets to his feet in the casket, standing up and staring into the shocked face of the Dark Man. An irate, intense aurora emanates from his eyes while rising to his feet, preparing for what should be a huge chokeslam. Psycho pulls himself up onto the apron in front of Desolation, who he still has hold of around the throat, the crowd screaming with excitement as the former Livewire Champion looks prepared for the chokeslam. Desolation suddenly kicks him to the gut though, doubling Psycho over before grabbing him by the head, pulling it between his legs, setting up for the powerbomb. The crowd is screaming as Desolation tries to lift Psycho, pulling him upside in a piledriver position, instead of hitting the move though again it’s countered. Psycho turns his body abruptly, burying his shoulders into the gut of Desolation, hoisting him on top of them, putting him in a Death Valley Driver position. He is about to turn and pull him down into the casket before Desolation slips off his shoulders, landing on his feet behind him, landing on the opposite side of the ropes in the ring. Psycho turns around in shock as Desolation grabs the top rope and pulls himself over, grabbing the former Livewire Champion around the waist, trying to pull him down into the casket with the sunset flip powerbomb. Again Psycho is fighting it, still holding onto the top rope with both hands, Desolation fighting with all his strength to pull down into the casket. Psycho is still struggling, still holding onto the cables before he reaches down, slapping away one of Desolation’s hands. The portly Psycho turns on the apron and jumps into the air now, coming down with a leg drop right across the face of the Dark Man. This causes everyone in the arena to unleash a gasp while Desolation slips out from under the thigh of his large opponent and tumbles to his seat inside of the casket.
Dan: Desolation is down, Desolation is down inside of the casket!
Mayne: Get back up Dark Man, get back up! Don’t let Psycho trap you in that casket.
Cheers are coming from the crowd as Psycho stands up, staring around the fans with a very disturbed expression caught in his eyes. He drops down off the apron to the mats and grabs the lid, lifting it into the air before looking inside at Desolation, who seems knocked through a loop by that leg drop. The lid is about to be swung shut when out of nowhere Too Magnificent launches a forearm into the upper back of Psycho, his former tag team partner. The crowd is irate as Psycho turns around and receives a stiff right hand right across the jaw, knocking him backwards.
Douglas: What the hell is this, Too Magnificent coming out of nowhere! Assaulting Psycho!
Mayne: The animosity between these two seemingly knows no ends.
Dan: Come on, this had to have been planned!
Mayne: Oh Dan, you and your drugs.
Psycho steps forward to get his hands on his former teammate when a trashcan is cracked over his head by an almost deranged Too Magnificent. The look of rage on Too Mag’s face depicts the story of his hatred for Psycho, and his animosity over what transpired earlier in the evening. Psycho surprisingly starts to pull himself to his feet, using the casket to do so before Too Mag smashes the trashcan over his back once again, almost knocking him down to the mats as a result. Desolation stands up inside of the casket then slips his hands into Psycho’s hair, dragging him alongside himself onto the apron. Both men stand up before Desolation drags Psycho’s head between his legs and grabs him around the waist, the crowd still booing. Psycho is hoisted into the air, held upside down before Desolation drops off the apron with a piledriver right into the inside of the casket. Everyone is voicing their outrage and shock over what just transpired while Too Magnificent threatens the officials with a clinched fist, ready to use it on anyone who comes close to the casket.
Douglas: APILEDRIVER INTO THE CASKET!
Mayne: If that won’t put Psycho down, I don’t know what will.
The fans are still voicing their outrage over what just transpired as Desolation pulls himself up to his feet by gripping the apron. He then stumbles forward into the wall of the casket, falling over it to the opposite side before Too Magnificent slings the lid shut with force. Official Princeton has no other option but to turn and call for the bell.
Dan: I cannot believe this, Psycho looked like he may have had Desolation beaten and then Too Magnificent comes out of nowhere with that brutal trash-can assault. This is the definition of highway robbery.
Mayne: How would you know, the closest you’ve ever come to reading a dictionary, was looking through the glossary to understand the words you read in your penthouse.
The fans are disgusted, repulsed while Desolation staggers forward, holding his back and his head before Too Magnificent grabs him by the wrist, lifting it into the air and pointing in his direction. Nobody can stand what they just saw as Desolation and Too Magnificent celebrate. That’s when the crowd starts to scream as...
REACH OUT AND TOUCH FAITH
...Hits the PA system, Chapel emerging through the curtains with a very angered expression on his face. He points at Desolation and Too Magnificent then at the casket, shaking his head in disgust over what he just saw transpire.
Chapel: This match ain’t over yet!
Desolation’s face fills with disbelief then anger while Too Magnificent does the same, rushing forward right at Chapel and throwing a fist at him. The King of Monsters blocks it though then throws a knee upward into the gut of the already exhausted Too Magnificent after competing earlier in the night.
Mayne: Wait a minute, this isn’t fair! This isn’t fair at all. They can’t restart this match since Chapel is now coming out here.
Douglas: Oh come off it, this thing started as a handicap match, and that’s how it’s going to end. This can’t conclude until Desolation has thrown Chapel into the casket. Psycho may already be eliminated, but Desolation still has to contend with Chapel here tonight.
Chapel grabs Too Magnificent by the back of the head and rushes him at the barricade, throwing him shoulder first into it. He then moves straight towards the ring as Desolation charges forward, going for a lariat. Chapel ducks it though and steps behind Desolation who turns only to be grabbed by the throat. The War Angel takes him by the back of the pants and hoists him into the air with a chokeslam right onto the steel ramp. Desolation is laid out across the steel, barely moving while Chapel steps around him with a very intense glint inhabiting his cold, calculating eyes. The crowd is standing, putting their hands together, starting a Chapel chant now while he eyes them maliciously.
Mayne: Why are you doing this Chapel!?! Don’t you know what your getting yourself into?
Douglas: I think Chapel has finally seen enough of the Alpha Generation and their antics.
The War Angel grabs Desolation around the head, rolling him to his knees then dragging him up to his feet. The battered, dazed Desolation can barely keep himself standing after the war he has endured thus far in this match, which for all legal purposes has concluded. Chapel drags Desolation towards the casket, pulls back on his head and rams him face first into the top of it. The Dark Man bounces off, turning around and placing his back against it before Chapel begins to fire right hand after right hand directly into his forehead. Chapel kicks him to the gut now and then takes him by the head, dragging it between his knees. It’s obvious what the War Angel is setting up for, motioning to the fans that it’s time for the powerbomb. Before he can hit it though Desolation swings with his body, pulling his head out from under Chapel’s seat then turning his side towards the War Angel, chopping him brutally over the chest. Chapel is staggered by the strike before Desolation steps in and chops him once again to the sternum. A red streak is left across the King of Monsters’ chest as he turns away from Desolation, who grabs him by the back of the head and charges him right at the barricade. Desolation bends Chapel down and flings him head first into the steel plates of the barricade. The metal almost breaks on impact with Chapel’s body as the big man stands up and falls spine first against the barrier. Desolation staggers backwards, shaking his head before charging right at Chapel, who steps forward and catches the Dark Man under the arm, hip tossing him over top of the barricade into the crowd. Desolation crashes spine first across the concrete, sitting up and grinding his teeth from the pain while Chapel steps over the barricade. He moves straight towards Desolation and kicks him to the back of the head.
Desolation begins to roll over to his knees while Chapel instructs a fan to move from his seat, the Livewire Champion grabbing his chair and turning it long ways. Just as the Dark Man reaches his feet, Chapel drives the chair into his gut, doubling Desolation over. He then steps to his side and swings the chair down violently over Desolation’s lower back. The former World Champion arches his spine and yells in tremendous pain before tumbling to his knees. He’s in absolute agony after already enduring one match and now competing in another unexpected one. Chapel throws down the steel chair then takes hold of Desolation’s hair, forcing him up to his feet. Although the Dark Man has trouble standing he gets up anyways, trying to keep his legs beneath him before Chapel charges him at he barricade and throws him over to the outside mats. Desolation hits them then rolls towards the ring, grabbing the tarp hanging from the apron as he pulls himself up. Chapel begins to step over the barricade when Desolation turns, launching himself forward into a basement dropkick right to the side of the War Angel’s knee. It thus drives his leg against the steel and causes Chapel to yell out in agony as he tumbles over the barricade onto the mats side first. He rolls across them, gripping at his knee in pain while Desolation steps towards him. Almost ravenously Desolation grabs him by the ankle, rolling Chapel over onto his chest and stomach then lifting up on his leg. He then drives Chapel knee first down into the mats. A groan comes from the crowd, who can quite clearly see the pain draped over Chapel’s features as he rolls across the mats, reaching for his leg.
Mayne: Desolation going right to work on the leg of Chapel, cutting him down to size. It’s only a matter of time before the War Angel is planted in that casket now.
Douglas: I think Chapel may have a little more left in the tank than you think, Billy. Remember for the most part Chapel is still fairly fresh, Desolation on the other hand has to be exhausted after getting Psycho into that casket.
Chapel pulls himself up the barricade now while Desolation steps towards him and takes hold of his wrist. With all of his strength Desolation whips Chapel at the steel steps. The momentum causes Chapel to run with a limp before crashing into the steps knees first, flipping over them to the opposite side. Both sets of stairs have now been demolished in this match as Chapel sits up, reaching for his knees in pain. A sweaty Desolation doesn’t care how badly Chapel may be hurt though, he just keeps coming right after the Livewire Champion. He unravels his wrist tape then steps up right behind the seated, agonizing Chapel, wrapping it around his throat. Desolation pulls back on the tape choking Chapel who gasps for air, trying to pull it away from his throat to the best of his ability. He can’t do it though as Desolation just continues to strangle him. All the air is rushing from Chapel’s head, as he becomes increasingly red in the face. The referee is imploring Desolation to stop this before he removes his tape from around Chapel’s throat then kicks him hard to the back of his head.
The War Angel is still gagging as he instinctively turns onto his hands and knees, trying desperately to stand up. His attempts are short lived though as Desolation connects with another well timed stomp to his forehead. He then grabs him by the back of the head and forces him to his feet, dragging him towards the casket. Chapel moves with a noticeable limp before he is driven face first right into the wood. The impact knocks Chapel through a loop, turning as his back falls against he casket, the only thing keeping him upright at this point in time. While trying to get his bearings, Desolation approaches the steel steps, grabbing hold of them and lifting them into the air. He places them on his shoulders in front of his face before charging forward at Chapel who suddenly gets a hard big boot right up into them. The stairs are knocked backwards into Desolation’s face as he tumbles off of his feet and onto his back. The steps land right on top of the Dark Man, spread out over his chest while he lies there on the mats, sweating and breathing hard. Chapel stumbles around Desolation and the steps before reaching into the ring, grabbing hold of the almost destroyed chair that was used to kick Psycho’s face in. Chapel lifts the chair high above his head then slams it down hard over the steps, thus driving them deeply into Desolation’s ribs and chest. Desolation grunts from the pain before Chapel slams the chair over the stairs again, then does it once more. He rams the steel against steel over and over again until there is almost nothing left of the chair. What remains of the dented wreck Chapel throws into the crowd with reckless regard for their well being, unleashing a loud roar while every muscle in his body tightens. Again he receives a standing ovation from the crazed crowd jammed into the Manhattan Center.
Douglas: Chapel is really cutting lose here!
Mayne: Cutting lose is something you do on a dance floor, Dan. This man is trying to murder Desolation, and on a show dedicated to Chris Benoit that would really be in bad taste.
Dan: BILLY!
Billy: Too soon?
Desolation is gasping for air under the stairs as Chapel pulls them off then throws them over the ropes into the ring. The stairs hit the canvas side first then flip over to land right side up. Chapel now grabs Desolation by the hair, forcing him up to his knees before rolling him onto the apron. He steps up onto it in front of him before dragging the former World Champion’s head between his knees. Everyone starts to scream as Chapel looks out over the fans then wraps his arms around Desolation’s waist, lifting him up into the air in a powerbomb position. The crowd really starts to scream before Chapel drops off the apron and powerbombs Desolation right on top of the closed casket. Everyone is in an utter state of shock as Desolation arches his spine from the wooden surface, grinding his teeth, closing his eyes tightly together and trying not to shout from the pain coursing through his body.
Douglas: Desolation powerbombed right on top of the casket!
Mayne: How many more of these crazy bumps is Desolation going to have to endure in a match that should have legally already ended?
Desolation is spread out almost lifelessly across the surface of the casket before Chapel steps up onto the apron and again overlooks the ravenous fans. He begins to shout something in anger.
Chapel: This shit ain’t over yet!
A loud applause comes from the crowd as Chapel reaches out, grabbing a motionless Desolation by the hair, pulling him to his knees then rolling him into the ring through the ropes. Desolation gets to a crawling base, absolutely exhausted, and for the first time in a long while physically showing the wear and tear of this match. However, Chapel doesn’t care how much pain he may be in, for he immediately steps around Desolation’s head and pulls it up between his legs once again. He backs to the ropes opposite the ones the casket is positioned just beyond. Chapel lifts Desolation up into the air and over his shoulders before catching him by the arms, setting up for what appears to be the crucifix powerbomb. Instead of immediately driving him to the canvas, Chapel’s eyes are locked primarily on the casket beyond the ropes.
Mayne: No, no, don’t do this, don’t do this!
Douglas: Chapel is looking to finally finish Desolation off for good.
Chapel rushes forward across the ring, struggling with Desolation throughout the process who is trying to squirm free. Just as he takes his eyes off his intended path of travel, Too Magnificent slides into the ring, grabbing the steel steps and placing them on his shoulder. He charges forward, ramming the stairs right into Chapel’s face, the War Angel running head on into them. He then tumbles onto his back, crashing on the canvas in a state of pain as Desolation falls out of his arms to the canvas below, rolling across it in an equally as dazed state. Desolation gets to his knees, reaching for his kidneys while Too Magnificent lays into Chapel with stomps.
Douglas: Damn that Too Magnificent! Chapel looked like he was about to finish Desolation off, right when Too Mag recuperates long enough to bash him right in the head with the steel steps.
Mayne: Now this is a handicap match Dan, it’s the Alpha Generation two on one against Chapel, hahaha.
Desolation steps towards the downed Chapel as well, beginning to stomp him repeatedly to the sternum. Too Magnificent is doing the same as they attempt to weaken the War Angel to the best of their abilities. Finally Desolation grabs Chapel by the hair, rolling him over onto his knees and pointing directly at the casket. Too Magnificent nods before approaching the ropes and sticking his arm through the cable. He grabs the lid and throws it open while Desolation forces Chapel to his knees, pulling him towards the cables and the casket. Just as they get within inches of it though Psycho stands up in the casket with a fire extinguisher, spraying it directly into both Too Mag’s and Desolation’s eyes. Neither man could avoid it in time while Chapel is dropped right back down onto his chest and stomach, where he lies in a heap. Desolation desperately tries to clean the spray from his eyes while Too Magnificent leans chest first against the second rope, also attempting to clean his retinas of the mist. Psycho lifts the extinguisher above his head and flings it right into Too Mag’s face. The steel bashes off his skull before he tumbles onto his back, appearing to be knocked out cold by the impact with the fans still going nuts, Psycho climbing out of the casket, back towards the ring.
Mayne: No, this is cheating, this is cheating, Psycho was already eliminated! And where the hell did he get that fire extinguisher?
Douglas: Psycho getting back into this match, stopping Chapel from being eliminated just like he was a few moments ago.
Psycho pulls himself up onto the apron and slips through the ropes into the ring while Desolation is still rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands, trying to get all the CO2 out of them. He turns back towards Psycho though who launches a right hand into his jaw, followed by another strike. Desolation is staggered by each shot while the crowd starts to boo as loudly as possible, through the curtains rushes Jackson Adams with a steel chair in hand. Just then Desolation launches a knee into Psycho’s gut then rakes his eyes, causing the former Livewire Champion to turn away from him. Just like Desolation a few seconds away Psycho is now the one palming his eyeballs, trying to see straight. He looks up in time to spot Jackson entering the ring with a devious grin on his face then charging forward, swinging the chair directly into his face. Psycho ducks it, causing the chair to collide sickeningly right with the skull of Desolation. The fans go absolutely nuts while Adams glares down at Desolation who is spread across the canvas, knocked through a loop by the chair shot.
Mayne: NOOOO!
Douglas: Jackson Adams just mistakenly knocked Desolation out with a chair shot right between the eyes!
Billy: He was trying to make up for what he said earlier, and now he’s just made things ten times worse on himself!
Adams throws down the chair, backing up with a shocked and worried expression on his face while glaring at the downed Desolation. Just then Psycho grabs Adams around the throat and drops back into the Psychotic Episode. Jackson crashes across the back of his head before bouncing up onto his knees and rolling across the canvas, spilling through the ropes to the outside mats. Psycho gets to his feet, shouting down at Jackson who spills under the ropes to the outside of the ring. Too Magnificent is standing up behind Psycho though, holding his forehead before he charges forward right at the back of the former Livewire Champion. To the shock of many though, Chapel catches him by the arm as he’s coming in, turning and dragging him to the canvas before locking in the Crippler Crossface. Everyone is going nuts in the arena at the sight of the submission hold being locked in on Too Magnificent who is roaring in pain. Desolation rolls to the outside of the ring, spilling under the cables to the mats across his knees while holding his forehead in a state of utter shock over what just transpired. He falls onto his back and gazes into the ring in a state of astonishment. Chapel breaks the crossface now as Too Magnificent rolls to the outside of the ring, gripping at his shoulder in tremendous pain. The War Angel quickly stands up as Psycho spins around to glare at him, both men coming eye to eye. The former Paranoia opponents just gaze sternly into each other’s faces before they turn slowly to stare downward at Desolation who is utilizing the announce table to drag himself to his feet. His palm is still pressed to his forehead, staring furiously into the squared circle. Both Jackson Adams and Too Magnificent stumble around to the bottom of the ramp as well, the two AG members gripping the backs of their necks. Desolation is still fuming as Chapel and Psycho have taken over control of the ring. The Dark Man seemingly has no desire whatsoever to enter it now. “Reach Out and Touch Faith” hits the PA system once again, causing the crowd to put their hands together as Desolation has a tense stare-down with the War Angel.
Douglas: This match is apparently incapable of continuing....
Mayne: No, Desolation threw Psycho in the casket, therefore this match is over, the Dark Man is the winner because Chapel left initially.
Dan: Well this conclusion can be greatly disputed, but you’re failing to realize that Chapel has come out here to the aid of Psycho. Are we starting to see another side of the Livewire Champion?
Billy: If he is actually siding with the roster, he’s made by far the biggest mistake of his career.
Chapel’s eyes menacingly lock with Desolation’s while he steps around the ring, still gripping his forehead and fuming with rage. Both Psycho and the War Angel seem insistent that he re-enter, but Desolation shakes his head and mumbles something under his breath.
Desolation: Not tonight boys, but you can rest assure that this isn’t over....
THE WEIGH IN
A scale is positioned in the forefront of the camera, a surprisingly cheap looking one, that certainly votes well for it’s accuracy. The small white device is positioned against a wall of the same color while a rocking shadow is cast over it. The camera pans out to reveal a slightly overweight, white haired doctor seated beside it. He rocks back and forth while yawning loudly then glancing at his watch impatiently.
Doctor: Where the hell is this fat son a’ bitch?
He yawns and stretches before a loud flush can be heard in the background, a door a few inches away from the weigher opening slowly as Bitchcakes McPhee materializes from the adjoining room, presumably a bathroom. Nothing but a white towel is wrapped around his large gut as he steps forward into the room, patting his belly a bit.
Bitchcakes: Ohhh, that third corn-dog wasn’t a good idea, oh well, at least it helped me clear out some space in the old crap factory.
McPhee continues to rub at his gut while the doctor rises to acknowledge his presence. Trying to be friendly and hospitable, McPhee extends his hand outward in the direction of the aged doc.
McPhee: Hey there pappy, I guess you’re here to do my weigh in.
The Doctor glances downward at the outstretched palm but opts to use his better judgement by not shaking it. This almost offends McPhee before he realizes what he was just doing with that hand a few moments ago, thus lowering it back to his side.
Doctor: That I am sir. So if you’ll take your towel off we’ll get on with this.
A bit of a squeamish look comes to Bitchcakes’ face before he turns his back towards the Doc and rips off his towel, swinging it around in his hand then discarding it. Thankfully the camera is raised so that his exposed posterior isn’t seen before he places his hands to the wall and assumes the position. The Doctor turns around and immediately becomes both disgusted and confused all at once.
Doctor: Um, what the hell are you doing? This isn’t a physical, and I’m sure as hell not going to stick my hand anywhere near that ass. Just get on the scale.
Bitchcakes: Oh, good. I had to sue my last doctor for getting a little too friendly with my rear-end, but I guess I really couldn’t blame him.
The Doctor appears increasingly squeamish as Bitchcakes turns to step up onto the scale. His big toe hangs precariously over it, just about to touch the surface before the sound of something flying can be heard in the small trainer’s room. Both the Doc and McPhee look around in bewilderment before both acting taken aback as none other than Max Power swoops into the scene. He lands feet first in the center of the room, flying in front off camera apparently. As soon as he plants his feet he buries his fists into his hips and glares forward at McPhee who steps away from the scale while he cups his genital area with the palm of his hand. Power’s jaw is raised and forced into a square shape to the best of his abilities while staring at the eager McPhee.
McPhee: Max Power, Max Power, come to watch my weigh in, or wish me luck? Or are you hear to see my nude ass cheeks flapping in the wind?
Max is about to respond before he uncontrollably shivers at the mere thought of it. Nevertheless he keeps up his heroic posture and tries not to look down at the exposed nether regions of McPhee.
Max Power: I’m afraid not citizen, for your weight is unimportant at this point in time. I bestow my presence onto you because my abilities of super hearing and x-ray vision have given me a suspect in the case of your stolen alcohol.
The thought of being reunited with his stolen alcohol seems to greatly excite McPhee who jumps up and down in place, clapping his hands together.
Bitchcakes: Yay, and cool, x-ray vision. One time I got x-ray specs out of a magazine, but once I realized I couldn’t see through my teacher’s dress I threw them out, although in the glasses defense I didn’t have a lot of time to use them. Apparently, teachers got this whole thing about drunk people randomly staggering into their classrooms and ogling them.
Power: Hmmm, shocking. But you digress from the key issue of importance here my slobbingly counterpart. A great and dangerous mission lies ahead from this point onward. Now that I have a suspect, we must handle apprehending them with the greatest of ease to ensure the protection of your beer.
McPhee nods, ensuring that he’s still listening, as well as awake. The gyrations of Max Power seem to catch his interest more than the words coming from his mouth though.
Max: Which is why I have come to request your assistance.
McPhee: Max Power needs my help? Wow, wait till the guys down at the pub hear about this. Of course most of them are impressed by the sight of rodents humping each other, so this would probably give them a heart attack.
Power doesn’t like the sound of McPhee spreading this gossip about, but once his eyes divert to the scale he realizes he must play along for now.
Power: Yes, it is not often that the courageous Max Power calls upon the assistance of lowly citizens, but just this once I require your help as a form of distraction. Therefore we must leave now, come on....
Max gestures for him to follow, crouching as he prepares to fly off, McPhee doing the same. That’s until Bitchcakes realizes two all important things. One, he’s still completely nude, and second, he’s got to get this weigh in if he desires a title shot against Robin later in the evening. He seems greatly conflicted as he glares at the scale then back at Power.
Bitchcakes: Wait though Max, far be it from me not to be grateful for your help, but if I want to get a shot at the X-Class title I need to go through with this weigh in. So just a second.
As McPhee turns to go for the scale, Power’s face, what can be seen beneath the cheap mask, cringes. He seems to be scrambling for a reason to keep Bitchcakes from stepping onto the scale and getting his title shot tonight.
Max: Um, no!
Bitchcakes stops a few inches away from the scale.
Power: We’ve got to go now before this devious, cruel and misguided fiend has the chance to get away with your beer. So come now loyal follower, and we shall save your alcohol from the clutches of doom.
Although ordered, McPhee hangs back, not sure rather he should give up his title shot or not, no matter how much of a convincing argument Max Power gives. As Max turns his back to dive off into the air, Bitchcakes steps quickly up onto the scale. When Power turns around to stare at him he becomes agitated.
Max: What are you doing? We’ve got to go now to apprehend this criminal element before they have the chance to harm your alcohol or strike again.
Bitchcakes: Just one second Max.
Max Power seems shocked as Bitchcakes almost blows him off, sticking one finger out in his direction as the doctor pushes McPhee’s fat out of the way to see the number on the scale.
Doctor: Okay, you made weight fat ass, you can go out there and compete for the title.
Bitchcakes: Woohoo!
Celebrating, Bitchcakes jumps up and down, striking a Rocky like pose with his fists clinched and raised above his head. Max Power stomps his foot and also clinches his fists but for a much different reason. Bitchcakes turns to stare at Power now, ready and willing to go.
McPhee: Okay, let’s go.
Although McPhee is ready and willing to go, Max Power isn’t all of a sudden.
Max: No, I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided I’ll handle this on my own since your title shot seems more important to you, thus clouding your judgement. So I must be off...
Just as he’s about to turn and leave a confused, saddened McPhee behind, he stops to observe the area of Bitchcakes below the belt line.
Power: And for God sakes citizen, put on some clothes, there are children watching.
With that parting remark, Max dives off camera and presumably flies away. McPhee looks shocked as he stares up into the heavens, watching him leave.
PUSHED AROUND
A mixture of boos, cheers, and other such chants emanates from the fans as before their eyes on the titontron, an image of Orlando Cruze is displayed. The Icon marches down a long corridor, not yet dressed for in ring competition. Instead of being ready for the 6 man tag team main event, Orlando discusses something with the gentleman occupying his side, moving along with him. This individual is just as well dressed as the Icon, and carries with him a briefcase that hangs from his grasp, nodding in the direction of the former three time World Heavyweight Champion.
Orlando: Yeah, so listen, we’re on our way to AWOL’s office right now, when we get there, you tell him exactly what type of trouble he’s in for if he continues to discriminate against me.
The mysterious, balding and pudgy individual holds up his palm, insisting Orlando quiet down for a second so that he can get a word in edgewise.
Calm down, calm down Orlando, everything is going to be fine. You let me handle this, after allo, that’s what you paid me to do. I’ve handled several cases like this, well actually none that really involved getting a push and being denied title shots, but they were kinda similar. So don’t fret, I’ll have AWOL bent over backwards in legal proceedings so badly he’ll eventually crumble and give into your desire to start getting back into the main event scene around here.
Orlando: Excellent. He should know better by now that I’m not going to take being pushed around and underutilized. What was the man thinking booking me in such an irrelevant 6 man tag team match tonight? Doesn’t he realize what kind of talent he’s squandering?
In a very flustered, agitated state Orlando shakes his head and pushes onward in the direction of the GM’s office. His attorney seems distressed by his client’s dismay, ready to pounce on the General Manager with legal verbiage so threatening it make a grown man weep. Before they can reach the GM’s office though, they find their path obstructed, one Nathan Creed standing between them and their ultimate goal. The Future steps forward from behind the camera, having been making his way down the opposite side of the hallway before ironically crossing his tag team partner for the evening. Nathan’s eyes cut between Orlando and the greasy skin stretched over the attorney’s face.
Nathan: Hey Lando, what’s going on buddy?
For some reason Orlando doesn’t appear particularly pleased with running into his long time friend, who is dressed for in ring action, in great anticipation of the impending six man tag.
Cruze: Well, if you really must know Nathan, I called my lawyer down here to get to the bottom of AWOL’s blatant discrimination against me.
Nathan appears perplexed.
Nathan: Discrimination?
Orlando: Yes, discrimination. You have to have noticed all the pointless matches I’ve been booked in since IWC opened. I can’t even count how many times I’ve been forced to face Jon Torretto now. Plus I keep getting put in these giant clusterfuck tag matches that ultimately prove or do nothing for my career. I’m fed up with it, you and I both know I deserve better than what I’ve been getting lately.
For some reason the anger on Orlando’s part only seems to stir up a chuckle from Nathan. The laughter is offensive to the Icon.
Cruze: What’s so damned funny?
Creed: I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to laugh, but I just can’t help to find this funny. I mean, over the past year, even going back into 2006, you’ve done nothing but try and convince me that I was stuck in a rut, and that by changing my ways I’d get out of the hole I had dug myself into.
Orlando doesn’t know where he’s going with this one, his eyebrow rising while he motions with his hands for Nathan to get on with his point.
Nathan: And yet, here you stand now, stuck in your own rut, but refusing to change who you are in order to get out of it. I was able to change Lando, but are you? I really do hope so. Because the man I face tonight, shouldn’t be one who hides behind a lawyer and threats of lawsuits. The person I want to step into the ring with at Born Again, should be the Orlando I respect, the Orlando these fans loved. It’s a damned shame if we’re forced to get anything else, anything less than Orlando Cruze at his very best.
The thought troubles Orlando and freezes him for a response, while his hand rises towards his jaw, stroking at his chin. He begins to debate what he just heard from Nathan while his lawyer remains beside him, shaking his head persistently.
Lawyer: Oh come on Orlando, there’s no need to listen to this guy, he’s a nobody, I’m here to make sure you become a somebody again.
Nathan just shrugs his shoulders.
Nathan: Yeah Lando, just believe who you want to believe. The one who’s going to make you the most money, or the one who’s going to help you become capable of sleeping at night again.
With that parting sentiment, Creed makes his way around both Orlando and the agitated lawyer, who tries to appear amused by that last comment. A smile, or anything humorous seems to be the farthest from Orlando’s mind though while he contemplates what he just heard from his long time friend and confidante Nathan Creed.
Hmmm, trouble in paradise I see.
Raising his eyebrow Orlando turns to stare at the approaching giant that is Chris Cagero, a figure who had hung obscured by shadows in a somewhat distant corner of the corridor. The giant apparition marches forward slowly in the direction of Orlando, observing the former three time World Champion and his lawyer with a bit of disdain as well as disgust. He large cranium shakes in an appalled manner, yet a smirk rests on his face.
Chris: I guess the rumors I heard about you, and the things that I’ve seen are quite true. You are incapable of finding peace, aren’t you Orlando? You do have a definite dillema when it comes to discovering what gives you internal solace. But instead of lecturing you about it, I guess I’ll have to take a page from my brother’s book, and use your foibles to my advantage tonight. Unless of course, you change before we step into the ring together. Although that seems to be a trait your quite incapable of mastering.
Chris glances at the nervous attorney who bulks up his chest and tries to appear authoritative. There mere sight of him only makes Cagero wish to chuckle to himself.
Cagero: Nice tie.
The giant apparition begins to stroll out Orlando and his attorney before his wrist is grabbed by the Icon. Immediately, Chris turns to stare down at the hand gripping his wrist, then up into the eyes of the former three time World Heavyweight Champion. A tense stare-down now ensues between the two men who will occupy opposing corners of the ring this evening.
Orlando: Why change when I’m more successful than you’ll ever be in this company.
Chris: Keep telling yourself that Orlando, and maybe one day you’ll actually believe it.
With a somewhat placid look on his face, Chris rips his hand free from Orlando’s then marches down the corridor. He leaves Orlando standing there with a slight smile on his face now while the lawyer looks around in complete confusion.
Lawyer: Um, why are there so many wannabe psychologists around here?
The Icon shrugs his shoulders, not really having an explanation for the numerous amateur psychologists running ramped in IWC.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
WHAT LIES AHEAD
Pat Evans’ faced immediately comes to the forefront of the camera, stirring up a loud collection of boos from all those packed into the Manhatten Center. They seem outraged by his presence while he stands there, staring forward with a smug look on his otherwise apathetic face. There’s no other signs of emotion on his face or in his eyes, he just looks cold, almost void of life. The camera pans out a bit to reveal Michelle Blacker standing beside him, microphone in hand. Instead of being adorned in some type of provocative dress though, Michelle has black leather clinging tightly to her seductive frame. Her hair has been died purple and mascara surrounds her eyes, giving her an almost racoon like appearance.
Michelle: Pat Evans, we’ve just received word that at Born Again your scheduled to face off one on one with Aurora Rose. But more importantly, have you seen Psycho around lately?
The mic is thrust outward in the direction of Pat’s face, who actually begins to show some emotion by displaying his confusion.
Pat: Um, what? Who the hell cares about Psycho, no I haven’t seen him.
Michelle stomps the long heel or her leather boot against the concrete, miffed by this revelation.
Michelle: Okay then, the last time you saw him, was he talking about me? Was he talking about hurting me perhaps?
The mere thought of Psycho doing damage to her otherwise lovely body, greatly, greatly excites her, but only further adds to Pat’s bewilderment.
Evans: I don’t talk to Psycho, I never have, and there’s a good possibility I never will. I actually prefer to keep my sanity in tact, which is pretty hard considering the lack of challenges there is around here in IWC. Aurora Rose at Born Again? Do I even need to go into how easily it is going to be for me to beat her?
Michelle shrugs her shoulders, not knowing the answer.
Michelle: Probably, because otherwise we’re just going to be standing here wasting our times. But here’s a good question for you. Do you like my new tattoo?
She flexes one of her exposed biceps to reveal a heart tattoo with several bloody screws drawn leading into it. The words in the middle of the heart are “Psycho Please Hurt Me.” Evans seems almost disturbed by the image before he shakes his head and goes on with what he has to say, shifting gears away from Psycho completely.
Pat: Listen, I’m not here to talk about Psycho. I’m here to voice just how concerned I am over the well being of Aurora Rose. Yes, I said it would be easy for me to defeat her, but it’s up to her, rather she makes it easy on herself. She could put up a fight and agitate me enough to prolong her agony, her suffering....
Michelle: Ewwww....
Evans: She could actually try to mount some offense which would of course make me take a little longer in dissecting one of her body parts, in ripping it apart, tearing the muscle from the bone.
Blaker: Ohhhhhh....
Evans catches a glimpse of Michelle from the corner of her eye, she is getting really excited now the further he goes into the descriptions of the brutality he’ll inflict on Aurora at Born Again.
Pat: So the question she needs to ask herself, is rather she wants to do this the easy way or the hard way. She could avoid the onslaught of brutality I’d inflict upon her by simply laying down on the canvas at Born Again and allowing me to pin her. Or she could be stupid and put up a fight, which would of course be the most foolish move of her career. A career ending move in fact.
Blaker: More!
Michelle’s hand ends up on Pat’s chest, rubbing it before he pushes it away in disgust then continues on with his speech.
Evans: The ball is in Aurora’s court, since she started this, I’ll allow her to decide how she wants to end it. She could go out peacefully, or be carried away from the ring with whatever bone I decide to break sticking out from her skin, incapable of ever wrestling again. I extend the same offer to those in my match tonight, those who are there to punish me for reasons that are beyond my logic. Did I intend to cost Aurora her match last week, of course. Was I there to simply help Hurse retain the title, no, far from it. So you patsies can do whatever you want tonight, you can stay out of my way, or if you want to be stupid, you’ll end up in the same state I leave Aurora in at Born Again. The choice is yours.
Michelle: Oh God, hurt me, hurt me Pat.....
She leans in, wrapping her arms around Pat’s waist.
Blacker: Do to me what your going to do to Aurora. Break my bones, burn me with a cigarette, rub glass in my eyes!
Pat forces Michelle’s arms from around his waist then pushes her back a bit before waltzing off camera. He shakes his head, as if disturbed by Blacker’s desperate pleas for torture. Michelle falls to her knees, watching Pat walk away with excitement in her eyes.
Michelle: If you don’t do it, I’m sure Psycho will.
The thought of the former Livewire Champion causes Michelle to begin licking her lips, contemplating just what kind of pain he’d inflict upon her and thus bring her closer to ecstacy.
ROBIN BROOKS © VS. BITCHCAKES McPHEE
X-CLASS CHAMPIONSHIP
The show comes back to the inside of the arena, the camera panning over the fans who are overly excited about the upcoming matches. You know, as their obligated to be.
Douglas: Well, welcome back to the ring I guess, thankfully.
Mayne: Is it just me or does Michelle Blacker’s ass look fat in those hot leather pants?
Dan: Um, okay Billy, I’m sure you were the only one concentrating on that when the woman is going nuts backstage, basically throwing herself at Pat Evans.
Billy: Dan, when exactly did you have your penis removed? Of course I’m not the only man concentrating on Michelle Blacker’s ass, in fact, I’m sure Nick F. Harris is somewhere licking the television screen.
Douglas: Don’t mention any of the Loons please. I’m trying to get the image of David Fields attempting to urinate into Too Magnificent’s mouth out of my head. On a side note though, apparently the X-Class title match is coming up next, and yes, it will be for the title as McPhee weighed in well shy of the 240 pound weight requirement.
Mayne: It must have been that stringent diet he was on.
The camera cuts abruptly to ringside where one Killjoy is seated behind the barricade, the former lover and mentor of X-Class Champion Robin Brooks. A lot of commotion is heard from the fans at the mere sight of him.
Douglas: Look at this Billy, for the third straight week in a row, Killjoy is seated at ringside during a Robin Brooks match.
Mayne: Why is this man here? Doesn’t he know when he’s not wanted? He’s like Robin’s shadow, constantly following her around. The man is pretty much stalking her for crying out loud. Next thing you know he’ll be making the diamond symbol with his hands and yelling “bang” a whole lot.
Dan: Would you lay off the damn Diamond Dallas Page references already? They got boring half way through our first match tonight. Besides, I think Killjoy gives Robin some inspiration when he’s out here, watching her compete.
Billy: Yeah, and I bet watching her isn’t the only thing he’s doing behind that barricade, the damned pervert.
The sound of a beer can opening and being poured echoes through the P.A. Systems and the Crowd begins to go nuts. As the opening verse of BEER! by Psychostick begins to play, Bitchcakes McPhee stumbles out from behind the curtain and waddles down the entrance ramp, slapping every last hand of fans he sees.
"I drink beer because it's good.
I drink beer because I should.
If there was a song to sing.
I'd sing it and beer you'd bring.
I drink beer when I am sad.
Cuz the beer it makes me glad.
Now there is nothing more to sing.
So let's go drink beer."
Bitchcakes rolls into the ring just before the chorus begins, and begins to get the fans involved in singing the chorus of the song with him. He looks a bit out of breath though after all the hard work that went into the preparation for his match.
"Beer is Good, Beer is Good, Beer is good, and Stuff!
Beer is Good, Beer is Good, Beer is good, let's go drink some
BEER!
BEER!
BEER!
BEER!
BEER! BEER!
BEER! BEER!
BEER! BEER
BEER!"
After the rowdy chorus Bitchcakes ascends the turnbuckles and drunkenly falls off, before doing a few stretches waiting for the bell to ring.
Mayne: I don’t know, Bitchcakes is looking a little close to that 620 pound mark if you ask me.
Douglas: Thankfully I didn’t, and I doubt anyone in the world values your opinion much anyhow. Bitchcakes actually looks to be in the best shape of his life, far below what his apparent weight reads on the IWC profiles.
Billy: Man, I really wanted to see him brought to the ring in a crane, that would have been so cool.
As Bitchcakes is doing some drunken calisthenics in his corner Rumor by Lindsey Lohan hits the PA system and causes the crowd to erupt into a wave of cheers. Through the curtains rushes the X-Class Champion herself Robin Brooks, the belt shimmering while wrapped around her waist. Pyros go off on both sides of the stage as she charges past them then down the ramp, slapping hands with the fans. She does kick boxing moves at the end of the ramp then shoots a glare at Killjoy who stoically stares back at her. He fails to show much emotion, yet Robin grins and jumps onto the apron, slipping through the ropes into the ring.
Dan: Robin Brooks, a very gracious title holder, helping to ensure Bitchcakes would reach the weight limit tonight.
Mayne: Please, so Robin has had a few successful title defenses. And by few, I mean, just one. That’s no reason to start singing her praises. There are only two things good about this woman, one she’s dating Hurse, and two, she uses Lindsey Lohan music for her intro.
Douglas: Oh no, don’t tell me you’re a Lindsey Lohan fan.
Billy: If by fan you mean I’d like to screw her in the ear lobe, then yes, yes, I am a fan.
The crowd is pumped as Robin hands off her X-Class title to the referee who holds it in the air for everyone to see. It gets a loud applause from the fans before McPhee rushes forward, grabbing the belt out of the official’s hand then jumping up and down like he just won the championship. Bitchcakes even goes as far as to start trying to put the title around his waist before Robin storms forward and grabs him by the shoulder, he’s spun around to face her while she motions towards her belt.
Robin: You have to pin me to win that!
Bitchcakes: Nuh uh, finders keepers!
McPhee sticks his tongue out before it’s grabbed between the fingers of Brooks who then reaches out, snatching her belt from his hands. She hands it back to the referee before Robin scolds McPhee verbally. The impressionable young Bitchcakes hangs his head sadly, remorseful over upsetting Robin as the bell rings. Suddenly he lunges forth with a knee to her gut, Robin being doubled over as Bitchcakes begins to slug her repeatedly to the side of the face. Each shot knocks Robin back a bit, staggering from the impacts before McPhee takes her by the wrist and backs her into the ropes spine first. Once she’s pressed against the cables he launches her off across the ring into the opposite ropes then steps to the middle of the squared circle. He bends forward for the back drop but as Robin comes back in she leap frogs him then turns, delivering a hard kick right to the back of his thigh. Bitchcakes it knocked off of his feet and onto his spine, staring up at the heavens in shock while Robin spins around so that her back is aimed towards him. She bends her knees, preparing for a big standing moonsault before McPhee sits up, sticking his arm out through her legs and then pulling her over backwards into a school boy pin.
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Robin kicks out quickly, dropping over onto her knees while Bitchcakes gets to his feet in front of her. He comes charging in quickly when Robin reaches out, grabbing him around the back of the legs then lifting up on them. McPhee falls onto his spine as Robin flips forward into a jacknife cover, still holding the back of Bitchcake’s legs while coming down on top of his chest and stomach.
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McPhee gets his shoulder up off the canvas while Robin falls onto her side. They both roll away from one another then get to their feet, spinning around as they glare into each other’s faces. Their fists are clinched, ready for a fight but instead they hesitate while the crowd claps wildly, Killjoy just watching on though, turning his head back and forth while observing the on going action in the center of the ring.
Douglas: This is what I like to see. Although Robin and Bitchcakes built kind of a bond this evening, with Brooks trying to assist McPhee in losing weight, they’re still going all at it for the X-Class title, holding nothing back against one another.
Mayne: Friendships, alliances, they don’t matter when gold is on the line, and it’s about time that both of these competitors realized that instead of pussy footing around acting like there are on a God damn prom date. Well news flash, I think Robin’s feet would look fat if she were to wear a dress.
Dan: Are you even trying to make sense anymore?
Mayne: A little, but most the time I’m just going through the motions.
Robin and Bitchcakes both smile now and nod in one another’s directions before McPhee extends his hand.
McPhee: PUT IT THERE PAL!
A smiling Robin graciously extends her hand as well, approaching McPhee before their palms interlock. Just then the grinning Black Widow swings around under Bitchcake’s arm and places it in a ringer. McPhee begins to grind his teeth, looking to be in pain while hunching over forward. Robin then sticks her foot out, placing it to the back of his knee and pushing down on it. McPhee falls to a kneeling base as a result while still trapped in the arm ringer before Robin lifts her leg into the air. She swings it over top of Bitchcake’s shoulder and head while releasing his arm then spinning around with her body so that she’s turned to face the kneeling McPhee once again. As soon as she does, she slaps on a neck cravat, twisting at McPhee’s cranium while several members of the crowd put their hands together at the sight of the technical ability Robin just displayed.
Douglas: A nice European like transition into the neck cravat. We’ve really seen so much growth from Robin Brooks as a competitor here in the IWC, it’s not even funny how much she’s developed over the years.
Mayne: Yeah, and none of it is thanks to Killjoy, she’s learned all of this from the World Champion Hurse, who is a technical wrestling wizard. The only thing she learned from Killjoy is how not to show emotion or be humorous in the slightest, hahahahahaha.... ohhhhhh, I’m so lonely.
Bitchcakes is struggling against the submission while Robin is still really twisting and wrenching at his neck. Just as Bitchcakes gets to his feet though he launches an elbow into Brooks’ gut, then does it once again. The shots seem to be weakening Robin’s grasp around his neck enough for McPhee to fall sideways away from her. In the process he twists his body enough to reach up and grab one of her arms, dragging Robin down with him. The crowd cheers at the sight of a twisting arm drag from the neck cravat position, Robin being flipped over and crashing onto her back while Bitchcakes gets to his knees at her side. He immediately lifts up on her arm, applying a standard version of the armlock with Robin still spread across her back. Brooks begins to rock with her body though, attempting to escape the hold before she rolls over backwards. She lands right on her feet before Bitchcakes stands and swings around under her biceps, applying his own arm ringer now. Her arm is trapped while extended out to her side as Brooks is left attempting to find a quick escape from this. Just as she is about to Bitchcakes extends his foot and places it to the back of her knee, pushing down on it. As a result Brooks falls to a kneeling base as McPhee looks around at the fans and lifts his leg into the air. He swings it around over top of Robin’s head like she did to him a few moments ago. But instead of transitioning into the neck cravat he swings his leg around her head again. He keeps spinning in circles now, lifting his leg over her head over and over again with a great big smile on his face and the crowd producing some mild laughter as a result.
Brooks just sits there on her knees with a very bewildered expression on her face before McPhee steps around behind her back, appearing quite dizzy, stumbling a bit. Nevertheless he now tries to step over her back, attempting to lock his hands around her chin in order to apply a quick camel clutch. Instead of locking in the move though Robin squirms backwards across her knees right between his legs, then stands up behind him while he is bent forward. She places her hands to his back and leap frogs him, landing on her feet right in front of Bitchcakes, slightly slouched over now. Bitchcakes then steps forward and leap frogs over top of Robin, landing with his back facing her front. He eagerly bends forward and motions for her to complete another leap frog. Robin looks on with a smile then nods her head, stepping forward and jumping into the air. Instead of leap frogging him though she lands feet first right on top of his slanted back. McPhee goes to stand up but Robin jumps off his back then turns, twisting around in the air before landing on top of his shoulders and dropping back into a huge hurricarana. Bitchcakes flips over thanks to the hurricarana, crashing onto his back then rolling across the ring, spilling to the outside mats feet first. Everyone in the arena is putting their hands together at the sight of the very acrobatic move just delivered by Robin onto her portly opponent. Killjoy even looks mildly impressed at ringside.
Douglas: Did you see that athletic ability from Robin Brooks. This woman looks like she’s made out of elastic.
Mayne: No, I think she’s made out of plastic more than anything else, Dan. But yeah, it was an impressive agile move.
Bitchcakes staggers around the outside mats, holding the back of his neck and looking stunned. He’s still tired after the tough night he’s endured getting into top physical shape for the weigh in. Finally his head turns, adjusting to stare at Robin who is waiting for him to spin around. She then rushes across the ring and grabs the top rope, pulling herself over into a huge crossbody. Bitchcakes steps out of the way though, causing Robin to change things up at the last second and instead land right on her feet. The fans appreciate her athleticism before she spins back towards the ring, where McPhee has rolled under the ropes and is now holding the top cable. Before she can even respond Bitchcakes pulls himself over into a huge corkscrew crossbody right on top of Brooks, taking them both down to the mats. Everyone is shocked by the very agile, high flying move used by McPhee, who isn’t notorious for his aero-dynamic abilities. He rolls onto his seat, looking around at the fans with a very bewildered expression on his face, as if having no idea why their cheering for him. To solve his conundrum he rises to his feet and approaches the announce table.
Mayne: Oh no, this idiot is coming over here. I knew I should have wore a slicker tonight, to protect myself from his damn vomit.
Douglas: I don’t know why he’s coming over here for. Maybe it’s to replace you at commentary, which would just be heavenly at this point.
McPhee steps around beside Billy who is tensing up as Bitchcakes places his hand on his shoulder. He leans in, watching the monitor built into the announce table, observing the replay of the move he just did. Once he sees it he jumps back in shock and begins to point to himself, as if he can’t believe he just did that.
Bitchcakes: I did that!?!
Finally he shrugs and accepts it while Robin is utilizing the apron to pull herself to her feet. As he begins to step in, Robin moves towards him and delivers a swift kick to his gut. She then slaps on a front gantry and steps towards the announce table, jumping into the air and placing both feet to it’s surface. She springs off, turning in mid-air and delivering a huge tornado DDT that drives Bitchcakes hard head first right into the outside mats. Again the crowd finds themselves cheering on the athletic move they just witnessed from this incredibly agile X-Class Champion. She rises to her feet and slips her hands into the hair of Bitchcakes, rolling him to his knees then dragging him to his feet. She presses him back first against the announce table then delivers a hard chop right across his chest. The force of the impact causes Bitchcakes to grimace in pain before Robin takes him by the back of the head and leads him towards the ring. She quickly rolls McPhee in under the ropes as he gets to all fours, Robin climbing up on the apron, about to enter herself. She sticks her head through the cables before Bitchcakes stands up and yells something.
Bitchcakes: MOOOO!!
Right as Robin begins to slip her upper half through the ropes, Bitchcakes jumps into the air, grabbing her around the neck and pulling her through the cables with a huge DDT. Robin’s entire body stands on top of her head with the crowd responding with shock over what they just saw happen. Brook’s bounces off her head then collapses onto her back as Bitchcakes turns, crawling into the cover. With this happening, Killjoy watches on, moving towards the edge of his seat, clearly distressed no matter how much he tries to hide it.
Douglas: The Hangover out of nowhere!
Mayne: New X-Class Champion, new X-Class Champion!
McPhee hooks Robin’s legs quickly.
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The fans scream as Robin shoots her shoulder from the canvas at the last second, McPhee sitting up in a stunned state, unable to believe he didn’t just become the X-Class Champion. He slips his hands into his increasingly sweaty hair, turning to face Robin who is sitting up on the canvas. Her body kicked upward like a spring after getting her shoulder up, clearly not yet all together mentally though after that hard drop on her head. Bitchcakes realizes this, taking advantage by scooting in and slapping on a sleeper hold. He really grips at Robin’s neck and head with all of his strength, depriving it of air. For once Bitchcakes is actually displaying, gasp, strategy. Perhaps he realizes how much he had to work for this title shot throughout the night. Regardless of what’s going through his head though he continues to tighten the sleeper hold, making Robin kick her heels against the canvas as she tries to reach a standing base. She begins to force herself upwards while McPhee really squeezes at her cranium with all of his strength, causing her skin to become bright red. Even while gasping for air though Robin fights her way upward, realizing her title could be leaving her waist. Nevertheless she forces herself to her feet, getting them beneath her to much fan fair. Bitchcakes breaks the sleeper though and begins to drive his forearm over her upper back repeatedly. He then bends forward, burying his shoulder into her spine then lifting her up into the air. Somehow Robin flips over though, landing on her feet behind McPhee then shoving him forward with all of her strength. He is sent rushing into the cables, turning and bouncing off them before coming back in at Brooks who jumps into the air, swinging around with her leg for a big spinning heel kick. McPhee ducks it though, getting behind her as Robin spins to face him only to be caught around the neck and the thigh. Bitchcakes drops back into a huge exploder suplex. The majority of the impact is taken across the back of Robin’s head, leaving her seated on the canvas now as Bitchcakes steps up behind her, delivering a swift kick to the back of her neck. He then grabs her around the jaw, rolling her onto her knees. He backs up slowly with Robin struggling to get up in front of him, yelling something at the fans.
Bitchcakes: MOOOO!!
Bitchcakes steps forward and before Robin stands up straight, causing McPhee to have to change things up, instead charging forward into a lariat. Robin ducks it as Bitchcakes rushes across the ring now, building momentum as he bounces off the cables and comes back in, bending forward for a huge spear. Robin turns and jumps into the air though, delivering a huge dropkick right to his face as he was coming in. Bitchcakes is almost sent flipping over backwards, landing on the canvas across the back of his head and shoulders while Robin comes down at his side then glares at the turnbuckle.
Douglas: A huge counter by Robin Brooks!
Mayne: Dammit, I thought this match was going to end abruptly thankfully. Why does Robin have to try and win every match?
Douglas: Um, because it’s part of her job.
The Black Widow gets to her feet holding the back of her neck before approaching the turnbuckle with McPhee laid out on the canvas, barely moving. Robin slips through the ropes onto the apron then scales the turnbuckle, getting to the top rope when Bitchcakes wakes up, rising to his feet then abruptly charging at the corner. He steps up the ropes then grabs Robin around the neck while she was still bent forward, again he shouts towards the screaming fans.
Bitchcakes: Mooooo!!
He is about to drop back into the DDT off the turnbuckle but Robin pushes her way free from the facelock. She shoves Bitchcakes off the turnbuckle, sending him flying to the canvas below, crashing back first into the ring before standing up on the top rope. She momentarily glances at the fans then dives off the turnbuckle, flipping through the air with the Flying Star. It connects, with nothing but canvas, the fans screaming as Bitchcakes rolls out of the way in the nick of time. After the impact Robin bounces up to a crawling base, barely moving before McPhee steps in, grabbing her around the neck and thigh then jumping forward. He rolls her up into a cradle.
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No! Again Robin gets her shoulder off the canvas in the nick of time, everyone screaming once more at the sight of the nearfall. Bitchcakes again sits up, becoming frustrated that he didn’t just win the X-Class title. His teeth are gritting against one another while sweat streams down his increasingly red face. Just then the fans start to boo loudly as from the backstage area charges none other than World Champion Hurse. He still has a bandage over his forehead and a very deranged glint in his eyes as he glares at Bitchcakes, the man who attacked him during the lumberjack match and the same person who has come close to taking the X-Class title off his precious Robin Brooks. Bitchcakes begins to stand up with his back pressed to the ropes, soaked with sweat as Hurse jumps onto the apron behind him, pulling the World title in reverse, about to crack it against his skull while the official is checking on the condition of Robin.
Douglas: No! Ref turn around, look out for Hurse!
Mayne: No, keep fondling Robin, I’m sure she likes it anyways. Pay no mind to the mad World Champion about to crack Bitchcakes in the head with the belt!
Hurse is about to swing the title into the back of Bitchcakes’ skull before his ankles are grabbed. Abruptly he’s pulled off the apron, his face smacking into it as a result before he staggers backwards. He spins around, stunned as he finds himself staring into the face of Killjoy.
Billy: What the hell does Killjoy think he’s doing?
Douglas: He’s keeping Hurse from helping Robin win this match. He doesn’t want Robin’s title reign to be soiled with shady defenses.
Mayne: So he’s trying to make sure Robin loses? That bastard.
Dan: He’s trying to give her some honor dammit. Something Hurse is taking away from her.
Hurse is irate as he holds the World title up, pointing at it then at Killjoy, insinuating that he has no right to touch him. Just then Killjoy rolls his eyes and slugs Hurse right across the jaw, sending the Champion flying backwards. He crashes onto his back and drops the World title belt, becoming shocked by what just transpired. His eyes bat with terror while scooting across his back away from Killjoy who is staring intensely down at him. Hurse grabs his World title, pulling it against his chest while security now rushes down the ramp, surrounding Killjoy. In the ring Robin is trying to get to her feet as Bitchcakes turns around to glare at her, bending forward slowly as he prepares for a big spear to her mid-section. He motions for her to stand up anxiously while Robin attempts to do so, her legs trembling beneath her though, barely having the strength to get up. McPhee actually looks rather intense, much like Killjoy at ringside, realizing he is about to finish her off and thus win the X-Class title before his attention is caught by some type of commotion in the crowd. Much like a few weeks ago during his League title match, Bitchcakes finds himself distracted by superhero Max Power, who is making his way through the fans.
Dan: What? Now Max Power is here? Who else is going to interfere in this damn match, Alan Thicke?
Mayne: That would be.....awesome!
Bitchcakes stands up straight and turns his back towards Robin, glaring at Max who now holds up an empty beer bottle, one of the same type of beverages stolen from him a few weeks ago. Power looks rather sad while motioning towards the empty beer bottle then shrugging his shoulders, as if insinuating he was too late to save this alcoholic beverage from whomever abducted it. McPhee appears stunned, placing his nails to his teeth and shaking his head, refusing to accept that one of his kidnaped beers were drunk. With his back aimed towards Robin, Brooks turns around and jumps into the air, sticking the front of her ankles under his armpits. She drops backwards, pulling McPhee down with her into a reverse roll. He ends up on the back of his shoulders with Robin seated on top of the back of his thighs, holding him in a surprise pinning predicament.
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Everyone in the arena screams with either cheers or boos as McPhee kicks out a second too late, dropping over onto his side with a stunned expression befalling his face. He gets to his knees, incapable of believing that he was just defeated by the X-Class Champion, that he is not leaving tonight with the belt, that all his efforts were for not.
Dan: Brooks has done it, she’s done it! She’s retained the X-Class title!!
Mayne: Yeah, and she’s got Max Power to thank for it. Can this woman not win one match without someone else’s assistance?
Douglas: The Alpha Generation cheat in almost every match and you don’t jump on their case.
Billy: Yeah, because I like them.
Robin rolls to the outside of the ring, dropping to the mats as the time keeper hands her the X-Class title. Finally, in a sluggish manner she turns to glare at Killjoy being pushed back towards the crowd by security and an irate Hurse standing on the stage with the World title over his shoulder. Obviously she doesn’t like the sight of any of this. Meanwhile, Max Power is motioning for Bitchcakes to join him, still pointing at the empty beer. Although conflicted, Bitchcakes wishes to get to the bottom of this mystery, already forgetting he just lost this match in favor of finding the culprit responsible for his stolen beer.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
A TIGHT LEASH
Hurse: I’ve had it with this Robin, I’ve had it!
Boos come from the crowd, obviously outraged at the sight of the World Heavyweight Champion Hurse storming through the backstage corridor with his World title over one shoulder and a bag over the other. Robin is marching beside him, shaking her head, distraught by this whole argument, by what just transpired at the ringside area between her current love and her former one. Beside Hurse marches Too Magnificent, carrying his bags as well, while Desolation leads the way, keeping a watchful eye out for anyone who might be waiting in the wings for them.
Hurse: I didn’t want to believe what I’ve been hearing lately Robin, but I can’t ignore what just happened when that son of a bitch ex boyfriend of yours jumps the barricade and embarrasses me in front of everyone.
Robin: I’m sorry, how many times do you want me to say it, Steven. I’m sorry. But I can’t be held responsible for what he did. I had no idea Killjoy was going to jump the barricade and attack you. It’s not like we planned this or something.
Hurse: Hmmm, I’m starting to wonder about that.
The World Champion continues to move forward quickly for the exit before Robin grabs him by the arm, spinning him around then staring into his face in a bit of outrage. She clearly did not like what she just heard, the doubt present within Hurse’s voice. Hurse regrets what he just uttered as their eyes interlock.
Robin: And what do you mean by that, Steven? Do you honestly think there’s something going on between Killjoy and I?
For a moment Hurse ponders his question, debating rather he should say what’s truly on his mind, or leave it to himself.
Hurse: Why shouldn’t I think that? You’ve given me no reason not too. Every time in you’re the ring, there’s Killjoy watching and supporting you. Every time I turn my back there you are meeting with Killjoy in restaurants or in your dressing room. What do you take me for a fucking idiot!?!
Although very upset by this accusation Robin bites her tongue and tries to understand where Hurse is coming from.
Brooks: There’s nothing going on between me and Killjoy, you’ve been getting nothing but bad intel. We’re just friends is all.
Hurse: A guy and a girl cannot be just friends Robin. Your living in a dream world if you believe that. If you really care about me then you won’t ever see Killjoy again. In fact, I forbid you to ever see Killjoy.
Robin is taken aback by this controlling demand from the World Champion. Her eyes widen and fill with anger before settling on Hurse, who has a lump form in his throat and a cold sweat gather across his brow. Clearly unnerved by the stare he is receiving.
Robin: Did you just order me to not do something? Newsflash Hurse, I’m not one of your Alpha cronies.
Desolation: Hey!
Hurse motions towards Desolation to just keep his cool before looking back at Robin, who is getting increasingly upset the longer this argument persists.
Hurse: That’s right, your not a member of the Alpha Generation, because I can actually trust my teammates. Well, at least some of them. But if you really love me, you won’t see Killjoy again, that’s all I have to say about it.
The Champion turns to begin leaving while Robin stands there, almost floored by what she just heard, her mouth hanging agape. She doesn’t even know rather she should be outraged or not, unclear what emotion she should be feeling.
Adams: Hey wait a minute, where the hell are you all going?
Desolation, Hurse, and Too Magnificent all stop and twist their heads to stare back at Jackson who breaths heavily while running to catch up with them. He is dressed in his ring gear, the main event just moments away. Instead of waiting for him, all three men begin to walk towards the exit once again.
Hurse: We’re leaving.
Adams scowls at Robin for a second before giving pursuit to his teammates, shocked by this announcement.
Jackson: What do you mean your leaving? I still have a match coming up. You guys can’t go till the show is over. What’s going to happen to me if I don’t have any back up?
Desolation: We don’t give a shit. You should have thought about that before you ran your mouth and hit me with a chair earlier. Your on your own, deal with it.
Hurse: That’s right.....
The Champion stops right in front of Adams, who has to put on the breaks before crashing into his teammate. Hurse buries his finger into a stunned Jackson’s chest, pushing him back a bit while they stand a few feet away from the GM’s office.
Hurse: Because the Alpha Generation, have left the building.
Hurse turns, following Desolation and Too Magnificent who don’t even look back at Adams. The former Livewire Champion just stands there, distressed by what he heard, his hands running through his hair, unable to come to terms with the fact that he will be completely on his own during the main event tonight. He slowly turns and finds himself staring at Robin Brooks now, who is located a few inches away, her head lowered while thinking about everything she just heard. Her eyes raise though when Jackson steps towards her, his finger extended in a blaming manner.
Jackson: You, this is all your fault. Everything was fine before you came around you bitch!
Robin doesn’t even hesitate, lifting her hand and slapping Jackson hard across the cheek. The force of the blow staggers Adams who raises his hand to his jaw, his eyes wide with shock and anger. He turns to face Robin who is already storming away, just as agitated as he is. Before Jackson even has time to properly process all this troublesome information he’s been bombarded with a sinister little chuckle can be heard behind him. It causes his chest to heave the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up while his twitching eyes turn to stare into the face of AWOL. The General Manager is standing just outside of his door now, watching all this with a smirk on his face. He greatly enjoys the sight of Jackson’s misery, being left all on his own, and then getting a hard slap to his face for his troubles. Just then Jackson halls off and slaps AWOL to the face now, making him feel exactly what he is. AWOL’s face snaps back to stare at Adams, a red streak left across his cheek before the fuming Jackson backs away. Possibly out of fear, realizing what he just did. AWOL watches him walk away, breathing with a snarl almost, ready to explode like an active volcano. Instead of doing so though, a chuckle comes through his lips, like he enjoyed what just happened to him.
COMMERCIAL BREAK
ORLANDO CRUZE & NATHAN CREED & JACKSON ADAMS
VS.
CHRIS CAGERO & JON RICH & PAT EVANS
Outsider” plays throughout the arena. The lights dim and fade to black. After a few moments of the opening piano chord being played, a spotlight shines down on Pat Evans as he walks out from the back. The crowd cheers/boos/whatever you want them to do as he makes his way down, but Evans merely ignores their fanfare and walks up to the ring. He looks up at it before walking to the steel steps. He then walks along the apron and enters the ring. He takes off his black trenchcoat, placing it on the top rope in the far corner before pacing the ring as his music fades out.
Douglas: Welcome back to Riot!, and it’s now time for our main event. Pat Evans on his way to the ring, an impressive new performer to the IWC, who has a whole hell of a lot of potential, but definitely showed he was not a friend of this organization by costing Aurora Rose the World title last week. Which is why he’s been put in this match tonight, with two people who must have taken offense to Pat’s actions on the last Riot!.
Mayne: This is not fair, what AWOL has done tonight is sickening and bias. Pat Evans is going to be surrounded by nothing but enemies tonight, on the opposite side of the ring and in his own corner. And why? Because the man has talent, because the man has been unstoppable since his debut here in the IWC, and AWOL is frightened of such up and comers?
Dan: Billy, everything that just came out of your mouth is bullshit. There, it’s much easier to just come out and say it instead of dancing around how to break it to you.
Evans is staring down into his palms which rub together, his eyes locked chillingly on the entry way. Suddenly the lights black out, leaving the arena in complete darkness. The crowd grows quiet, anticipating who will be coming out, as a piano starts to play softly over the speakers, the beginning of Within Temptation's "Destroyed." A spot appears on the stage, as the piano plays, and the spot grows into some sort of cross... The video flickers to life, showing a shadowed figure walking out of a place of pure light, the shadowed figure gets closer, and closer, until a set of white pyrotechnics go off... When the pyro settles, we see Chris Cagero on the edge of the video screen wearing a white cloak, with his arms spread. He jumps forward, and slowly desends onto the stage.
Chris shrugs the cloak off his shoulders, revealing his pure white wrestling attire, as well as an abstract tattoo across his massive back. He slightly bows his head, while closing his eyes, before slowly making his way to the ring. As he approaches the ring, he quickly opens his eyes, and raises his arms, releasing huge flames from the ramp behind him, and the ring posts ahead of him. Slowly, he climbs up onto the apron, and over the ropes, his cold glare seemingly fixed upon Pat Evans, his own teammate. Evans just stares right back at the man he scored a count out victory over last week.
Mayne: See what I mean, just look at the stare between Chris Cagero and Pat Evans. There’s no way these two guys can work as a team.
Douglas: They’ll have to tonight at some point or another if they actually want to win this match. Pat and Chris are certainly not going to be very chummy with one another though, as Chris obviously replaced his brother Simon last week in that one on one match. But it didn’t go as planned as Chris was counted out. But I must say this Chris Cagero has shown he has remarkable talent for a man of his size.
The screen begins flashing with the beat of "Unbreakable" by Bon Jovi. The fans jump to their feet and watch as Jon walks from the back, smile on his face. He points to the fans as he steps on the stage. He stands dead center, drops to both knees, crosses his arms and lowers his head before snapping the arms outward and snapping his head back with a scream as the pyros from the screen begin to shoot off. He hops to his feet and jogs the isle, slapping the hands of the fans before sliding into the ring. He gets to his feet, runs to the corner, and taunts the fans. His eyes then cut to Pat Evans who is staring at the up and coming Rich with clear apathy in his eyes, uncaring completely of Jon’s presence. Rich’s stare can burn a hole through Evans though while he steps off the turnbuckle into the ring once again.
Mayne: There, another example of what I’m talking about. Jon Rich, a member of this team of up and comers in the IWC, jealously looking at Pat Evans for possessing more talent than him.
Douglas: Billy, your horrible distortions of the facts is just not funny anymore. The reason Pat is getting these cold stares from his teammates, is based off of what he did last week. Jon Rich, like you sound rounds out a great team of IWC’s top prospects, but even he is willing to forgive Evans for allowing Hurse to win the World Heavyweight title.
Billy: Can’t these guys get over themselves long enough to realize they need to work as a team, instead of giving into their petty anger? I think they should all just calm down, stand as one force and proclaim Jackson Adams and Pat Evans to be simultaneous winners, umm, somehow.
Dan: There’s a better chance of your IQ getting hirer than 50, than there is of that happening.
Pat finds himself segregated from the group as Jon approaches Cagero, discussing strategy with him. The lights dim as black light fade on in the ringside area; Giving In by Adema hits the sound system. Blue and green spotlights start blinking and roaming their way through out the audience as Jackson Adams Step through the curtain an arrogant, yet cocky smile stretches across his features. He slowly walks to the ring pointing to himself, and mouthing to the crowd how much better he is. He reaches the steps and walks up them slowly, walking along the ring apron now, he stops and takes one last look up the ramp and at the crowd before wiping his feet cockily on the ring apron, before stepping through the ropes. As he walks to the center of the ring he lifts his arms as if he was accepting the loud chorus of boos from the crowd, as he slowly spins in a circle and the lights return to normal. He then looks up right into Rich who is moving towards him quickly. The referee steps in Jon’s way but Jackson jumps back regardless, appearing very apprehensive and almost paranoid. He keeps glancing over his shoulder, hoping that someone is standing there to have his back, but there is no sign of the Alpha Generation.
Dan: Well, I’d say it’s safe to say that any plans Jackson Adams had tonight just went out the window a few minutes ago. Not only does he have Jon Rich on the opposite side of the ring who is just itching to get his hands around his throat, but he’s got Nathan Creed and Orlando Cruze in his corner. Two guys who he’s obviously made no friends with these past few weeks.
Mayne: That’s right, that’s exactly right, and another example of why I am appalled by this booking! It’s almost blasphemous. Last week Jackson had that match with Creed, then Cruze ran out, and Adams threatened them with further harm. But all the while he thought he’d have the Alpha Generation in his corner.
Douglas: That obviously fell apart tonight, because Jackson’s actions led the Alpha Generation to ditch him for the rest of the evening. So Adams will have no back up after mouthing off to Hurse, and accidently taking a steel chair to Desolation’s skull. Which is bad for him in so many ways.
Billy: And on top of having to keep his eyes on his teammates, and his opponents, he’ll have to be watching out for that sick AWOL. Who obviously misconstrued the fact that Jackson was swatting a fly on the side of his face backstage, and took it for an insulting slap.
Dan: I don’t know how you sleep at night Billy.
Rich is still being pushed back by the referee, while Evans finds himself glaring into Cagero’s face, obvious distrust between them. Jackson steps back and forth, constantly peering over his shoulders, desperately searching for his teammates, who have left him high and dry this evening. Tension fills the air in anticipation of the next superstar to enter the ring when the lights dim down. Strobes float around the arena as the opening chords of ‘Polyamorous’ by Breaking Benjamin fill the arena
“LETS GOOOOOOOO!!!”
The vocals are screamed as the song kicks up a gear and Nathan walks through the curtains to the cheers of the local fans. He psyches himself up and he slowly approaches the ring, the lights flickering around him. As he nears the ring the chorus kicks in and Nathan dashes to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope. He bounds to his feet and climbs the turnbuckle, getting the fans pumped up for yet another high quality Nathan Creed match. Just like Rich, Nathan is making his way right towards Jackson, who is standing behind the ropes, holding his hand up, begging off, insisting they’re teammates. Jackson’s long time rival is not very interested in playing friendly with him, but instead of being able to get his hands around his throat, the official steps in front of Creed now.
Mayne: That’s it, I guess I’m going to have to take my jacket off and hop into the ring to be Jackson’s back up tonight.
Douglas: If I actually believed you’d have the balls to step into the ring, I’d inform you that he does need the backup, no matter how little you’d provide. Especially when one of his teammates is the man he’s feuded with for years now here in the IWC.
Billy: These two have went at it longer than I can even remember, yet AWOL thinks now they’ll just be able to work as a team?
Dan: I think AWOL had different intentions when he put this match together.
Jackson keeps a nervous, twitching eye on Nathan, who is just inches away, fists clinched in anger. Somehow he keeps from ripping Adams’ head off. “You Know my Name” by Chris Cornell hits over the PA system as the lights dim and 'Cruze' flashes rapidly on the video screen. Down either side of the rampway white strobe lights flicker as Orlando strides through the curtain and to the top of the ramp. He looks one way and then the other before walking down the rampway and to the ring, each strobe light extinguishing, and the arena lights getting bright with every step. Just as he steps up onto the apron though something strange happens to his entrance video. His music is abruptly cut out just like the video package celebrating his entrance and replaced with two letters as well as the sound of a heart beat monitor. Cruze’s features become twisted with confusion while glaring at the big screen, which now features the letters, “SK,” the sound of a shrill, angry voice emanating through the PA system.
Soon....
This only fills with Orlando’s face with more speculation before he turns towards Nathan in the ring who is shrugging his shoulders, not sure what to make of this.
Dan: What in the world was that?
Mayne: Please don’t tell me Tazz is coming to IWC. I don’t think I could take anymore horrible broadcast colleagues.
Douglas: I don’t think that’s the case Billy. It looks like someone was trying to send a message to Orlando. But nevertheless, Cruze and Creed seem undaunted by this message and ready for the first tag team match they’ve competed in together in over a year.
Billy: If Orlando was so happy about competing in this match, then why did he show up earlier with legal council? This man is a hypocrite.
The fans are deeply excited about this impending match up, everyone now standing in the ring with the exception of Pat Evans and Jackson Adams. Both men are located in opposite corners, staring at the group gathered in the center of the ring with condescending smirks on their faces, obviously having no intention of ever tagging themselves in. There doesn’t appear to be the need to with the 425 pound Chris Cagero glaring down into the eyes of Nathan Creed, who refuses to back down, no matter how much he may be outweighed. Jon Rich, the up and coming prospect glares with determination into the frustrated eyes of the crafty veteran Orlando Cruze, both men contemplating what it will take to beat the other. The bell rings when just then all four men move towards their respective corners and grab Jackson Adams under his arms, as well as do the same to Pat Evans. Before either man has the chance to block it they are hip tossed over the ropes and into the ring by their own partners.
The crowd is putting their hands together while both Evans and Cagero sit up, both men appearing to be in slight pain due to the hip tosses, yet roll to their knees, starting to stand up. Immediately they move towards their corners where their partners are located on the apron behind the ropes. Chris and Rich watch as Pat steps towards them, his palm extended outward. As soon as it nears them they drop off the apron and back away from the ring, shooting cold stares into the face of Evans, who finally shows some emotion by becoming angry. On the opposite side of the ring, Jackson is also going for the tag only for Orlando and Nathan to drop off the apron. They immediately motion towards Evans, saying he better get this match started. Jackson is trembling with rage as he backs up towards Evans, hitting spine first against his side. Both men spin around and now give one another a troubled glare.
Mayne: What is this? Is this even legal? Can’t they be fired for refusing to make the tag?
Douglas: I don’t think that’s specified anywhere in their contract. There is a mention of potential talents having to endure constant clusterfucks, but that’s about as close as it gets.
Orlando and Nathan find themselves quite amused at the sight of the ring, continuing to hang back and observe both Adams and Evans exchanging speculative glares. Finally Adams slaps his chest, then does the same to Evans, insisting something.
Jackson: If they won’t wrestle, then neither should we. I say we sit down right here in the ring and boycott this whole damned match! Hahaha.
The thought almost entertains Evans to show emotion by cracking a smile, instead he just maintains that same stoic glare. But he does nod as Jackson turns with a smile to glare at his partners before dropping down onto his seat in the middle of the ring. He crosses his arms over his chest and puts on a pouting expression, resembling a three year throwing a temper tantrum. As he sits there in defiance Pat stands behind him, nodding then diving forward, catching Jackson around the back of the neck while flipping over him. Adams’ head is snapped forward before he’s sent flying back into the canvas, Pat rolling to his knees then quickly crawling in. He buries his shoulders into the back of Jackson’s thighs, pushing down on his shoulders to pin him.
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Jackson sits up, placing his hands to the back of Pat’s head, shoving down on it in order to flip him over onto his shoulders and the back of his cranium. Adams is leaning forward, burying his shoulders into the back of Pat’s legs now as he holds him in his pinning predicament.
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With moments to spare Pat kicks out, dropping over onto his side then getting to his feet in anger while Jackson does the same in front of him. Both men appear very intense, glaring at one another in a spiteful fashion, ready to go at it once again. Instead of throwing fist, they lob insults at one another.
Adams: What the hell are you doing man?
Adams shoves Pat a bit.
Evans: I was about to ask you the same fucking thing?
Jackson: Just calm down.....
With Pat up in his face Adams changes the subject, motioning towards Evans’ corner.
Adams: Look, there’s Simon’s fat ass brother, go get your tag.
Eager to make the tag, Pat spins around and realizes that still neither Jon Rich or Chris Cagero are standing in his corner. He doesn’t have time to respond as Jackson grabs him by the back of the pants and rolls him up into the school boy.
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Evans kicks out now, dropping over onto his knees before Jackson steps over his head, starting to hook both of his arms, going for the Double Take (Angel’s Wings). He can’t get him up though as Evans shimmies back and forth, trying to block the attempted move of his opponent. Evans swings around under the arm of Jackson, then grabs hold of it, trying to force him down into the crossface. The crowd is screaming, both at the sight of the counter, and the move Evans is going for. Orlando and Nathan have returned to their corners, watching all this, while Jon and Chris do the same. They all keep an eye on the action unfolding in the ring, Jackson still trying to block the move Evans is going for, a very tough submission grapple. Before he can perfect it, Adams jumps into the air and turns upside down, wrapping his arms around Evan’s waist from behind and rolling him up into almost a version of the sunset flip.
Instead of going for the pin though, Pat rolls onto his knees and Jackson gets to his feet, in front of him. As soon as Evans reaches a kneeling base, Adams charges in, delivering a stiff knee right to his face. Pat is knocked onto his back with the crowd cringing at the sight of the knee drop. He turns back towards Evans now and steps in, jumping into the air and coming down with another knee, dropping it this time into the features of the dangerous submission expert. Pat’s body goes into convulsions while Adams rolls to his feet immediately after hitting the knee drop, then charges into the ropes, bouncing off before coming back in with a huge running leg drop right across his opponent’s throat. Evans’ body again leaps into the air as a result of the collision while Jackson gets to his knees, before standing, turning in circles to observe all those standing on the apron.
Jackson: I don’t need any of you sons of bitches, I’ll do this all on my own.
Adams turns, stepping towards Evans, right over his shoulders when Pat reaches up and locks his arms around Jackson’s ankle. He trips Adams over forward, causing him to crash to the canvas across his chest and stomach with Pat standing up behind him. Evans is now holding Jackson in the ankle lock, which is getting a mixed reaction from the crowd. Before Adams can even contemplate tapping, Jackson turns, pulling down with his leg to force Evans to the canvas with a small package.
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Evans kicks out, forcing his way free of the hold and dropping down right behind the head of Adams, reaching out, grabbing hold of it. Pat rolls to his knees and immediately applies the kneeling dragon sleeper behind Adams, pulling his head in revers at an awkward angle.
Dan: I think Adams spoke a little too soon when he told his partners that he could handle this all on his own. Pat showing him why he’s going to live to regret making that statement with these quick precise submission counters.
Mayne: Adams regrets nothing, it’s how he’s able to sleep at night.
Chris Cagero and Jon Rich are heckling Evans from the corner as Pat turns his eyes to glare at them with a general lack of emotion. Adams forces himself up to his feet, but is bridged backwards into the dragon sleeper by Evans, who turns and stares at both men in his corner who are still bombarding him with negative responses. This momentary distraction allows Adams to turn around out of the dragon sleeper position and bury his shoulder into the gut of Evans, charging him backwards into the turnbuckle. He rams him hard spine first against the padding then buries his shoulder into his gut, lifting him up into the air. He sits him on the top rope before Evans reaches down, grabbing hold of Jackson’s hair then delivering a sharp headbunt right into his skull. The blow staggers Adams who moves away from Pat, backing up to almost the center of the ring. He then unleashes a growl though and charges forward right at Evans who dives off the second rope with a clothesline. Jackson ducks it though, causing Pat to turn his body with enough time to roll forward across the canvas, right back onto his feet. He turns, as does Adams before both men rush forward and connect with a hard lariat to one another’s throats, that send them crashing down into the canvas.
Dan: Adams and Evans whipped one another out, they need to make that tag, but there’s easier said than done.
Mayne: Especially since their partners have basically become their opponents, by not even allowing themselves to be tagged in.
Dan: That was what I was eluding too Billy, but thanks for your un-insightful observations.
Jon Rich and Chris Cagero nod while glancing towards one another while Orlando and Nathan do the same, all four men extending their hands into the ring. Obviously they finally want to get in there as Jackson and Pat both force themselves to all fours, groggy and disorientated. Their eyes rise to observe the corners, desperately dragging themselves towards them and then extending their hands. Pat makes the tag to Rich, and Jackson slaps the hand of Nathan Creed. Both men slip into the ring and step towards one another, looking to lock up in what should be an exciting series of moves. Pat and Jackson just get to their feet on the aprons, trying to gather themselves when Nathan and Rich step in and tag out to them once again. Rich slaps Evans on the chest before he even spotted Rich coming towards him while Nathan hits Jackson on the shoulder. Both individuals are grabbed by the back of their heads and thrown over the ropes into the ring. Rich and Creed vacate while Orlando watches on laughing, and Chris appears almost amused. Both men stumble to their feet and back up towards the center of the ring glaring at their partners. Their backs strike one another once again before they spin around, Evans quickly laying out Adams with a right under the jaw. Jackson is taken down to the canvas before Pat turns around, grabbing him by the hair. He rolls him to his knees then slaps on a front gantry before dragging him to his feet. Jackson launches a knee up into the gut of Evans though, doubling him over before turning him and driving his shoulder into his gut now. Adams charges Evans backwards into the turnbuckle, ramming him against it hard before Orlando sighs and reaches over the ropes, slapping Jackson’s back, officially tagging himself in. JA stands up and turns towards Orlando in anger before Cruze kicks him to the gut and grabs him by the back of the head. He charges him at the ropes and throws him through them to the outside of the ring, the crowd cheering as a result.
Mayne: This is entirely unfair, Dan, entirely! Do you see what these bastards are doing to Jackson Adams, he doesn’t deserve this type of treatment.
Dan: Of course he does, and I only wish you were in there with him.
Billy: You’re a sick, twisted son of a bitch Dan, and that’s exactly why I change my phone number every month.
Orlando glares over the cables at an outraged Adams before Pat steps up behind Cruze, clubbing him hard to his upper back. The force of the strike causes Orlando to stumble and fall to a knee, Evans grabbing him around the back of the head, launching forearms into the side of his face. Pat stands up, beginning to stomp at the back of his head several times now before turning, rushing across the ring into the opposite ropes. He bounces off, coming back in at Cruze who stands, rushing forward with a huge lariat right to Pat’s throat, sending him crashing hard into the canvas. Orlando staggers forward, turning towards Evans, who is already winded, rolling to his knees, trying to force himself up to his feet. As soon as he gets his legs beneath him, Orlando charges in with another lariat. Pat ducks this one though, hooking Orlando’s arm in the process then pulling on it so that Cruze is spun around, Evans catching him around the neck in a diamond cutter position. With force Cruze pushes him off into the ropes though, Evans coming back in at Orlando who throws his arm across his chest, setting up for the Rock Bottom to a huge ovation. Before he can hit it though Pat back elbows him to the head several times then spins around behind him. He catches both of his arms, placing him in a full nelson, perhaps going for a dragon suplex but we’ll never know, because again Orlando uses his weight to push Pat backwards into one of the occupied corners. As soon as Evans’ back hits the turnbuckle, Cagero reaches over the ropes, slapping him on the shoulder. He steps over the cables and drives his forearm into the upper back of Orlando, immediately knocking the Icon to his knees. While there Chris drills him to the side of the face with a well timed, well placed boot shot. Cruze is knocked over as a result while Pat gives Cagero an up yours taunt behind the big man’s back.
The heckle that follows only forces a crude grin to fill Pat’s face before he sticks his head through the ropes, beginning to exit the ring. Just as he does Chris turns, placing his boot to Evans’ posterior and shoving him forward through the cables, causing him to crash to the outside mats across his back. Pat looks up at Chris, greatly disrespected by this action while Cagero turns towards Orlando who stands and slugs the big man across the face. Cagero is staggered before Orlando pops him across the jaw once more, almost causing the massive individual to crash to the canvas. Before he can, Orlando steps in and pops him to the face with another hard right hand. Again Cagero is about to fall before he plants his giant feet, Orlando taking him by the arm, attempting an Irish Whip. However, he can’t muster the strength to perform the move, his eyes cutting to the stoic features of Cagero who pulls his gripped arm inward, dragging Orlando forward into a massive lariat right to the throat. Orlando crashes onto the canvas before Chris runs across the ring, bouncing off the ropes, which stretch as far as they’ll go. He jogs back in at Cruze and jumps into the air, extending his elbow only for Orlando to roll out of the way. The whole ring seems to shake as Cagero’s body crashes into it, turning onto his side and grabbing his elbow. Cruze gets to his feet and spins to face Chris who has rolled onto his knees. Immediately Orlando steps in and grabs him around the neck, locking in a sleeper hold submission. Chris begins to force his massive girth upward though. This man mountain reaches back with his arm, wrapping it around Orlando’s waist then hoisting him into the air while held out to his side. Chris jumps into the air and comes down with a brutal sidebuster slam, Cruze’s body connecting with the ring with tremendous force.
Mayne: My God, Chris Cagero is bigger than everybody in that ring, and he’s using that to his advantage. I bet this guy’s so tall he doesn’t even have to have a girl get on their knees to receive penial pleasures.
Dan: Damn your constant fixation on the male genitalia!
Chris gets to his feet slowly and then grabs Orlando around the neck, rolling him onto his knees, forcing him to his feet. He backs Orlando up into the ropes, Cruze powerless to struggle against this giant who steps away from the cables then throws Orlando across the ring with a huge choke toss. Orlando flips over, crashing hard across his back on the canvas, arching his spine from the ring while grinding his teeth against one another. Even though the pain is clear, Cagero gives him not time to recuperate, stepping in quickly and planting a hard boot right to the back of his head. Orlando bends forward, reaching for his noggin after the impact before Chris grabs him around the head, rolling him to his feet. He takes him by the wrist and whips him off across the ring into the opposite ropes. Orlando bounces off and comes roaring back in, jumping into the air and hitting a lariat to Cagero’s throat. Chris is staggered, but not taken down as Cruze charges into the ropes again with a shocked expression on his face. He bounces off and comes rushing in at Chris who bends forward, catching him against both of his hands, hoisting him into the air with a military press slam position. Before he can fling him down at the canvas though, Orlando slips off his hands, landing on his feet behind Chris then rushing into the ropes backwards. He bounces off and comes rushing back in before Chris turns, Orlando jumping into the air and connecting with a huge clothesline. The lariat staggers but doesn’t take down Cagero, again causing Orlando’s eyes to widen in shock while he backs away. A slight smile comes to Chris’ face now while he motions towards the ropes, insisting that Orlando go for it again. The Icon turns his side towards Chris then begins to swipe both feet across the canvas while licking both of his thumbs and slapping his hands together, getting himself ready to run into a brick wall once again. He charges at the ropes, bouncing off of them and coming back in before Chris throws the lariat at him, Orlando ducking it while rushing into the cables behind him. He bounces off and comes back in at Cagero who turns around to spot Cruze flying right at him with a basement dropkick right to the knee. Chris falls to a kneeling base while Orlando rolls over backwards right onto his feet then charges in with a basement dropkick directly to the face of the hefty Cagero. The collision echoes throughout the arena while Chris falls to all fours, but is not taken all the way down to the canvas.
Orlando rolls to his feet and approaches Nathan, tagging him in. Creed steps through the ropes and moves towards Cagero, drilling him over the upper back several times with clubbing blows. All the while, Jackson Adams is standing on the outside mats, backed away from his corner, catching his breath. He turns towards the announce table, snapping his fingers and demanding something as Billy hands him his water bottle.
Douglas: Come on now Billy, this is getting ridiculous. You can’t be handing the wrestlers water and pampering them when their in the middle of a match.
Mayne: I don’t, but Jackson Adams is no ordinary wrestler, if it weren’t ripping off JBL, I’d make comparisons between him and the Lord Almighty.
Billy is actually fanning Jackson off with a clipboard while Adams sits down next to them in a chair. In the ring, Nathan is still clubbing Cagero hard over the back with ravenous intensity. Yet Cagero is still standing up even after each brutal shot, enticing Creed to step forward, trying to wrap his arms around the waist of the giant figure. He can barely get his hands clasped in front of Cagero’s waist before Chris finds a simple counter with the use of his girth. He grabs hold of Nathan’s hands then pushes out with his ass, causing it to crash into Nathan’s chest and send him flipping over backwards. Creed hits the ring hard then rolls over onto his knees with a stunned expression on his face. He gets to a standing base when Cagero turns towards him, Nathan stepping in and delivering a thunderous chop right to his chest. Chris groans and staggers due to the impact before Nathan moves in and chops him across the sternum with even greater force. Again Cagero is almost taken down to the ring by the stiff strike before he unleashes a primal grunt and grabs Nathan around the head, delivering a hard headbunt to his skull that sends Creed right down to the canvas across his back.
Chris steps back with a very intense aura filling his features before he turns and makes the tag to Jon Rich. The slap of the hand seems to cause Rich a great deal of pain, as he used the fingers that were wrapped in ace bandaging to make the tag. Nevertheless he enters the ring, Nathan rolling to his knees, trying to get to his feet. Before he can Rich rushes in and drills him to the side of the head with a forearm strike, sending him down to the canvas. Nathan rolls across it onto his feet, before turning towards Rich who steps in and cracks him across the side of the jaw with a right hand. Rich shakes his hand after doing so while Nathan stumbles into one of the corners, falling against it. Jon moves forward for another right hand only for Creed to chop at his chest desperately. The chop seems to do it’s job, staggering Rich, causing him to back up away from Creed. Nathan steps out of the corner and again chops him with incredible force. Sweat flies from the sternum of Rich, who continues to back up, but not be taken down. Again Creed chops him across the sternum, finally taking him down to the ring. Jon rolls across the canvas, holding onto his sternum which is blood red before Nathan moves forward, beginning to drag him up to his feet. Right as he gets him to a standing base, Rich wraps his hands around the back of Nathan’s head, dropping to his knees with a jawbreaker. Creed’s jaw bounces from the top of Jon’s head yet he remains standing as Rich gets up in front of him, kicking him to the gut then slapping on a front gantry. Jon points at the ropes, getting a big reaction from the crowd before rushing at them. He steps up the cables, getting to the top rope then turning as he pushes himself off for a tornado DDT. But Creed counters by reaching up, wrapping his arms around Jon’s waist then falling back into a bridging Northern Lights Suplex.
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Jon gets his shoulder up, the crowd cheering at the sight of the counter by Creed. Nathan rolls to his knees, as does Jon, both men getting to their feet with Creed being just a bit faster. He boots the side of Rich’s face then grabs him by the wrist, dragging him to his feet before backing him into the ropes, and launching him off across the ring. Jon turns and hits the opposite ropes, coming back in with great speed before Creed goes a running chop to his chest that Rich is able to duck. The momentum carries Rich into the opposite cables, bouncing off of them and coming back in at Nathan who drops down to his chest and stomach. This forces Rich to jump over him while ducking his head forward, rolling across the canvas onto his feet and turning towards Creed right as he reaches his knees. As soon as he gets them planted beneath him, Rich spins around with a brutal back heel kick right to the face of Nathan, knocking the Future to his back with the crowd groaning over the sound of the sickeningly stiff impact.
Mayne: Ohhh, if Creed had any teeth left in his mouth they were just knocked out with that kick.
Douglas: Your right Billy, that kick may have broke some bones in Nathan’s face.
Mayne: Not that it could do any further damage to Nathan’s looks.
Creed is laid out on the canvas, batting his eyes in a confused, incoherent state before Rich steps over his leg, lifting it up under his arm and then turning Nathan over onto his chest and stomach. Jon steps over the leg and locks in the Boston Crab, sitting on the back of the knee to exert further pressure. Nathan pushes himself up onto his elbow, gritting his teeth and glaring at the ropes which seem so far away, still dazed by the impact of that kick. Nevertheless he digs his fingers into the canvas, pulling himself towards the ropes in a desperate manner then reaches out, wrapping his hand around the bottom rope. The referee insists that Rich break the hold before Jon finally releases his leg, stepping forward but immediately moving towards Creed who has dragged himself up the ropes a bit. Rich places his knee to the back of Nathan’s head, forcing him throat first into the second rope, choking him almost. He only does so for a second before breaking the hold then slipping through the ropes onto the apron, turning towards Nathan who’s head is still stuck over the middle cable. Rich rushes forward and delivers a stiff front dropkick right to the side of Creed’s face, the fans reacting with shock and groans as Nathan rolls away from the ropes, his hands wrapped around his features. Jon gets to his feet, grabbing the top rope and pulling himself up into the air, landing feet first on the cable before launching himself off. He flies through the air and connects with a hard headbunt right to Creed’s sternum, Nathan’s frame kicking up into the air as a result.
Rich then stands, grabbing hold of Creed’s arm before wrapping his legs around it, falling onto his back. He now has Creed locked in the cross arm breaker, his ankles overlapped in front of Nathan’s sternum. Pain settles into Creed’s body while he tries his best to free himself from this hold, twisting and turning his body in a desperate attempt to get lose. He finally tucks his head in enough to roll over backwards, pulling Jon onto his chest and stomach while still maintaining the hold. Nathan gets onto his feet then turns his body enough to step over the upper back of Rich while his arm is still trapped in the submission. However, he’s able to pull it free and pull up on the legs of Rich, locking in the Texas Cloverleaf. Jon begins to shout at the top of his lungs, burying his elbows into the canvas while glaring around at the crowd which is screaming. The Future really has the hold firmly established, twisting at the legs and body of Rich who forces himself towards his corner. There an eager Chris Cagero is waiting for the tag, his large arm outstretched into the ring with Pat watching on, nonchalantly, no desire whatsoever to make the tag. He scoffs at the notion of it as Rich pulls himself closer and closer to his corner, Creed still holding onto the cloverleaf throughout the process. Finally when he gets within inches of the corner, Jon dives forward with his upper body and reaches through the ropes, slapping the knee of Pat Evans. The crowd begins to cheer while Pat looks back and forth in outrage, cussing under his breath. Nathan breaks the cloverleaf and turns towards a still fuming Evans, reaching over the ropes and slapping on a front gantry. Creed suplexes Pat over the ropes and into the ring, driving him down hard back first into the canvas. Evans sits up, shouting in pain while reaching for his spine.
Billy: I continue to voice my outrage over this booking.
Douglas: Dully noted. Instead of making the tag to Chris though, Rich made sure to put Evans in there against a technically sound Nathan Creed, who is showing some real fire in the ring right now.
Pat rolls to his knees while Nathan steps in, throwing forearm strikes into the side of his face then slapping on another front gantry. Nathan pulls Evans to his feet then lifts him into the air for another vertical suplex, however Pat floats over. He lands behind Creed and turns so that he wraps his arms around his neck, setting up for the reverse neckbreaker. Creed spins around instead of being dragged to the canvas though, wrapping his arms around Pat’s waist, setting up for a German suplex. But Evans back elbows him to the side of the face, sending Creed into a spiral before he turns in the direction of Pat once more only to be caught around the neck and dragged to the canvas with a huge ace crusher. Nathan’s face crashes into the ring, and the momentum of the impact causes him to stand up straight as Evans gets up and slaps his arm around his neck, dropping in reverse into a thunderous DDT. Creed’s cranium cracks into the ring before he flops onto his back, Evans turning and crawling into the cover.
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Creed kicks out with force, turning away from Evans who rises to his feet and delivers a quick knee to the back of his neck. Nathan reaches for his neck in anguish before Pat sets Creed up on the canvas then rushes into the ropes behind him, bouncing off and coming back in with a huge diving forearm right to the back of his head. Creed cringes, arching his spine and closing his eyes tightly together as the pain courses through his body. Evans rises to his feet and rushes into the ropes at his side, bouncing off then coming back in with a hard, well timed boot shot right to the side of his face. Nathan is knocked onto his back while Pat turns around to face the legions of booing fans, his upper lip twisting with disgust. Finally he turns back towards Creed who has gotten to his knees once again. As soon as Evans steps in, Nathan throws a forearm into his gut, followed by another such strike that doubles Pat over. The impacts cause Pat to be kneeled down in front of Creed who stands up, grabbing him around the neck, setting up for his own DDT. But Evans counters by pushing Nathan off into the cables back first. Creed bounces off them and comes back into a devastating European Uppercut right to the jaw, the force of which sending him staggering backwards into the cables once more. Nathan falls spine first into the second rope though, looking as if he is about to spill through them but getting his shins up so that they connect with the top rope. This causes him to be ricocheted right back onto his feet, running forward with a rebound lariat but Evans catches him with a drop toe hold. Nathan is planted face first into the canvas as Evans jumps over top of him, landing over his upper back, pulling in reverse on his chin. Agony again flows through Nathan’s frame as he finds himself stuck in the camel clutch by Evans, who spits in the general direction of Orlando Cruze. Jackson Adams on the other hand remains seated in the chair next to Billy, now asking for a beer to be handed to him from a front row fan, which he receives and promptly begins to drink. Obviously he has no intention whatsoever of re-entering the match.
Nathan struggles while Pat continues to rear back on his chin, a crooked smile coming to his features.
Pat: This is the so called best technical wrestler you’ve got!?! Come on!
Just then Nathan squirms free from the camel clutch by scooting backwards through the knees of Evans. Pat reaches back through his legs for Nathan who stands up, grabbing hold of the wrist of Evans that is stuck under his seat. Nathan stands up behind Evans and then turns him so that he can catch him around the neck. Before Pat can fight it he’s lifted into the air in a pumphandle position before Creed pushes him around into a piledriver, the crowd reacting with shock over what they just witnessed. Both Nathan and Evans are now laid out on the canvas, neither man moving after that last deadly move performed by the Future.
Douglas: Shades of Matt Sydal with that pumphandle driver just performed by Nathan Creed, getting him back into this match.
Mayne: Now would be the best time for him to tag in Orlando, because I guarantee that Jackson isn’t getting back in there, he’s enjoying my company way too much to do that.
Dan: The only thing that would enjoy your company is a swarm of locusts Billy.
Mayne isn’t listening, instead he’s motioning with a five dollar bill for a thing of nachoes to be brought to Jackson, who looks eager to receive them. In the ring Pat and Nathan are both barely moving, very dazed by that last sequence of moves. But finally they both begin to stir, Creed turning in the direction of Orlando who looks very eager for the tag. Evans on the other hand turns to glare at both his partners, both Rich and Cagero extending their arms into the ring, both wanting to get in there to make sure they still have a shot at winning this match. Evans scowls at them and remains in the center of the ring as Nathan crawls towards Orlando, diving forward, slapping his hand. The Icon enters the ring to a huge reaction from the crowd and moves right at Evans, who has just reached his feet, spinning around to face Orlando. His head is almost knocked clean from his shoulders by a right hand from Orlando, sending him crashing into the canvas back first. Evans rolls over quickly and gets to his feet when Cruze moves in and jabs him again and again to the face. Somehow Pat is able to keep his feet beneath him while he falls back first into the ropes, Orlando taking him by the wrist and whipping him off across the ring. Evans turns and reverse it though, instead sending Cruze rushing into the ropes spine first. Orlando bounces off as Pat ducks forward for the back drop, Cruze coming back in but stopping just short of Evans, with enough time to kick him square to the face. As a result Evans stands up straight, appearing out of it as Cruze rushes into the ropes back first, bouncing off and coming back in at his dazed opponent only for Pat to turn and connect with a back elbow right to his face. Orlando is sent crashing into the canvas, rolling across it while Pat turns towards his corner where Cagero makes the tag by allowing his palm to swallow the face of Evans then push him down hard to his back. The crowd laughs and cheers at the sight of this while Cagero steps over the ropes into the ring, approaching Orlando who has just gotten to a standing base, bent forward however. Chris goes for a big right hand only for his arm to be blocked, Orlando firing off with shots to his jaw repeatedly.
Chris stumbles with each blow to his feet before Orlando kicks him to the gut, doubling him over. He now charges into the ropes at Chris’ side, bouncing off and coming back in for what looks like another lariat attempt when Cagero stands up, going for a boot to his face. Cruze ducks it though and continues into the ropes behind Chris, bouncing off and coming back in at Cagero who spins around before finally being taken off his feet with a flying lariat from Orlando. He crashes onto his back with enough force to make the ring vibrate as Orlando rolls across the canvas, trying to get to his feet. Pat stands up in the corner and now rushes straight at Orlando who turns just in time to catch Evans around the waist, dropping back into a huge belly to belly suplex. Evans is flipped over, landing hard on the ring spine first while Rich shrugs his shoulders, slipping through the ropes into the ring, planting himself behind the slowly rising Cruze. He stomps his foot several times, waiting for Orlando to stand up, perhaps going for the superkick. As soon as the Icon gets to his feet he turns to face Rich who steps in and almost levels him with the superkick, only for Orlando to duck it, switching around behind Jon. He has his arms wrapped around Jon’s waist, who is fighting with everything he’s got to prevent being hit with the German suplex. With intensity and all his remaining passion, Rich rushes forward towards the enemy corner, hoping to get free of this grasp Orlando has him placed in. Instead Nathan springs onto the top rope in front of them and flies off, over the head of Rich before wrapping his arms around Cruze’s waist. He drags Orlando down into a sunset flip so that Cruze can pull Rich over into a huge German suplex. The crowd cheers at the sight of the unusual tag team move that flips Rich over, causing him to crash into the canvas hard across the back of his head before rolling over onto his knees. As soon as he gets in this position both Orlando and Nathan get to their feet, backing into the different corners on the same side of the ring. They then rush out of the corners and deliver a simultaneous front dropkick to both sides of Rich’s skull, sending him flying backwards with the crowd putting their hands together, everyone jumping up and down in excitement.
Douglas: What a series of tag team moves by both Orlando and Nathan! These guys showing what makes fans consider them the best tag team in the annals of wrestling history.
Mayne: They’re no better than any team Jackson Adams has been part of. Ain’t that right Adams?
Jackson tries to respond but the nachos are clogging his mouth, reducing him to just a nod of his head. Inside of the ring both Orlando and Nathan have risen to their feet, giving one another a high five before they turn to face Chris who rushes across the ring, leveling them both with a double lariat. Both men are sent crashing into the canvas while Chris staggers forward into the ropes. He turns to face Nathan who surprisingly is the first to begin getting to his feet. As soon as he does, Chris steps in, wrapping his hands around his throat then dropping back, flipping Nathan over him with a overhead choke suplex. Creed is sent flying through the air and crashing hard back first into the canvas, rolling across the ring while Chris gets to his feet, the fans still going nuts over all this action thus far. Rich surprisingly gets to his feet in front of the corners as Chris shouts at him to come towards him. Jon comes rushing in while Orlando is using the ropes to get to his feet. As soon as Orlando stands up, Chris catches Jon coming in and throws him right on top of Cruze’s shoulders. Jon swings around into a huge hurricarana that flips Orlando over, sending him crashing hard into the canvas. Right when his body hits the ring, Pat Evans crawls towards him and drops into the cover, hooking the leg.
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Chris grabs Pat by the ankle, pulling him off of the cover as Evans turns on his seat, immediately arguing with his much bigger opponent. Cagero is stubborn though, refusing to allow Evans to get the win. Pat rises to his feet then puts his palms out, explaining himself calmly and rationally, then turning to allow Chris to make the pin. Cagero turns to drop down for the possible three count on Cruze when Pat clubs him right over the back. Chris is knocked forward before he turns to face Evans who is slugging him repeatedly to the jaw then kicks him to the knees to get him bent forward. Evans jumps into the air, wrapping his legs around Chris’ neck to set up for the Triangle choke only for Cagero to stand up tall and push him around so that Pat is sat on the back of his shoulders. Evans’ eyes widen as Chris falls back into a huge Electric Chair drop.
Mayne: See, I knew it was only a matter of time before Chris Cagero turned against his partners, he comes from a long line of filthy cheaters known as the Cagero family.
Douglas: First of all, Chris Cagero is adopted, secondly, Pat was the one who turned against Chris for the sake of possibly covering Orlando for the three count.
Instead of keeping his mind on the action, Jon Rich has rolled to the outside of the ring, slowly approaching Jackson Adams who is still seated in the chair at ringside. Adams doesn’t even see him coming before it is too late, Rich standing over him, watching as Jackson devours the nachos with no regard for the in ring action. When the shadow is cast over him though, Jackson begins to look up slowly and hesitantly, finding himself eyeing a speculative Rich. A slight grin comes to Jackson’s face now while he slowly extends the nachos out to Rich, offering them up to make amens for his prior actions. Rich looks at the nachos, then at Adams before nodding his head and grinning, which causes Jackson to sigh with relief. Just then Jon kicks the nachos out of the hand of Adams then steps in, throwing forearm strikes repeatedly into his face, the crowd going nuts as a result. Jon grabs Jackson by the back of the head, dragging him out of his chair then launching him face first down into the top of the announce table. Adams’ skull bounces off hard before he staggers towards the ring where Chris Cagero has Pat Evans held in the air in a military press. He steps towards the ropes and throws Pat over them to the outside of the ring, Evans turning as he crashes hard back first across the mats, rolling across them to cheers from the fans. Chris then turns back towards the ring and Orlando Cruze, who is trying his best to stand up. Although a pacifist at heart, Chris rushes forward right at Orlando who throws an arm across his chest and without warning heaves him into the air, driving him down to the canvas with the Rock Bottom. The entire arena is going nuts over what they just saw, the incredibly wide, tall frame of Chris being driven with such force into the ring by Orlando who now kneels beside him in exhaustion. Jackson is now rolled into the ring by Jon, who is trying to enter himself. A dazed Adams gets to his feet, staggering around in complete and utter confusion before he backs into Orlando who is just now getting his feet beneath him as he prepared to go for the pin on Cagero. As they hit backs with one another a frightened, somewhat frantic Adams turns around, catching Orlando by the arms and spinning him around, jumping into the air with the unprettier. Orlando crashes face first off the canvas while Jackson rolls to his knees and gets to his feet, realizing what he just did.
Adams slides his hands into the hair as he comes to grips with the fact that he just laid out his own partner before finally just shrugging his shoulders, not giving a damn. His moment of apathy is short lived though as Rich steps behind him, grabs his arms, forces them across his throat then drops him down across the back of his head on his knee with the Get Rich Quick. The entire arena explodes into cheers as Jackson bounces off the knee then rolls across the ring going into convulsions. Rich scoots forward across his knees now, dropping down into the cover on Orlando, hooking his leg. The official looks around, not sure who the legal man is amongst all this madness, about to drop down and make the pin. His back is turned to the outside of the ring where Evans is pulling himself to his feet with the use of the apron before he’s grabbed by the shoulder, spun around by none other than Aurora Rose. She immediately begins to fire right hands repeatedly into Evans’ jaw, the man who quite possibly cost her the World Heavyweight title last week.
Mayne: This is chaos! Absolute chaos in and around the ringside area! You can thank AWOL for this.
Douglas: Both teams imploding do the egos of Pat Evans and Jackson Adams, but now those two gentlemen are being made to suffer for their actions.
Aurora continues to launch right hands into the face of Evans, who leans against the apron for support, too dazed to protect himself. Just then Roxas Knoxx rushes from the back right up behind Aurora, blasting her over the spine with a clubbing blow, then spinning her around, driving forearms into her face repeatedly. The crowd is just going insane, the referee in the ring continuing not to see this as he gets into position, making the three count for Rich.
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Jon breaks the cover when he spots Roxas and Aurora going at at ringside. Instead of possibly winning the match Rich gets to his feet and approaches the cables, sticking his head through the ropes, shouting at Roxas and Aurora to stop it. As soon as he does this, Nathan wraps his arms around his waist from behind, dropping back into a huge German suplex. The fans in the arena are going nuts while Nathan rolls to his knees, pulling Jon with him onto his feet. Both men get up before Creed grunts and pulls Jon over into another huge German suplex. The back of Rich’s head and shoulders crashes violently into the ring before Nathan rolls over onto his feet, dragging Jon with him, going for the rolling triple German suplex. Both men reach a standing base when Rich begins to back elbow Nathan frantically to the face, almost causing him to break the waist lock while Evans slips into the ring behind Creed. He plants himself then charges forward with tremendous speed, going for a big lariat before Nathan ducks forward, causing Evans’ arm to collide with the back of Rich’s head, knocking him down to the canvas. Creed then slaps on a half nelson behind a somewhat shocked, but otherwise apathetic Evans, dropping back into the half nelson suplex. Evans crashes violently across the back of his head while Nathan rolls to his knees, getting to his feet with Jon standing up behind him, gripping his neck in pain. He steps towards Creed now who spins around as Rich jumps into the air, landing on top of his shoulders then falling back for the hurricarana. Nathan grabs hold of his legs though and steps forward over the back of Rich, reversing into the Courtesy Call. Rich buries his fingers into the canvas, shaking his head and refusing to tap out as Nathan really rears back with the hold.
Douglas: Creed has Rich in the Courtesy Call! He has him in the submission predicament, and there might be nothing else Rich can do but to tap out.
Mayne: He wouldn’t be in this predicament if he didn’t jump in the way of Pat’s lariat.
The pain coursing through Rich’s body is indescribable, the referee right there, checking on his condition, asking if he’s going to give up or not. He refuses to do so before Cagero steps in, slapping his hand around Nathan’s throat. Creed’s eyes almost rip from their sockets in shock as the massive Chris drags him off the legs of Rich towards the center of the ring, before grabbing him by the back of the tights, setting for the chokeslam. Surprisingly, Jackson is to his feet though, spotting this and for once being a team-player as he charges into the cables in front of Cagero, bouncing off and coming back in. He throws a big lariat before Chris reaches out, grabbing him by the throat as well. The fans are standing as Chris prepares for a huge double chokeslam, both Nathan and Adams gagging while trapped in the grips of the massive Cagero, who stares back and forth at both their faces. He begins to lift them before Orlando drills him over the upper back with a forearm out of nowhere. Cagero is bent forward before Adams and Creed kick him to the gut then slap on a double front gantry, both men dropping back into a huge DDT. The large head belonging to the otherwise pacifistic Cagero, crashes into the ring before he flops onto his back, both Nathan and Adams rising to their feet in celebration. Meanwhile, on the stage, Roxas and Aurora are still duking it out with one another, launching right hands into one another’s faces as they stagger through the curtains into the back. In the ring Adams stands up, lifting his palm into the air, signaling for a high five from Nathan, who just scowls at him, refusing to do so. Adams won’t take his hand out of the air though, demanding a high five before Creed finally steps forward to respond when Jackson kicks him to the gut then grabs both of his arms, hooking them. The fans start to boo furiously as Adams lifts Nathan into the air, turning and driving him down face first into the ring with the Double Take.
Douglas: God dammit, Jackson Adams did it again! He just laid out Nathan now with another of his trademark moves.
Mayne: This match is breaking down into absolute chaos!
Adams turns towards Orlando who is leaning side first against the ropes, anger setting into Jackson’s features. He charges forward only for Cruze to bend forward, catching him against his shoulders and back dropping him over the ropes to the outside of the ring. Adams turns and hits the mats hard side first before rolling across them in pain, completely laid out. Orlando now steps across the ring in reverse before turning right into Jon Rich who steps forward, blasting him under the jaw with a brutal superkick. Spit flies from Orlando’s mouth before he crashes onto his back, everyone in the arena going nuts. Jon turns in circles, stumbling forward right into the ropes. Cruze is on his back, knocked unconscious by the kick with the fans still screaming at Rich who glares at the top rope. He immediately approaches it, slipping through the ropes onto the apron then scaling the turnbuckle. The fans are on their feet as Jon slips through the ropes onto the apron, scaling the turnbuckle quickly. He gets to the top rope when Jackson jumps onto the apron behind him, placing his hand to Rich’s posterior and shoving him off the turnbuckle. Rich flies over the mats and crashes chest first into the barricade, bouncing off with force while the crowd continues to boo furiously. Adams now bends forward to enter the ring, spotting a slowly rising Chris Cagero. He sneaks up behind him and grabs his arms, turning the big man around into position for the unprettier, hoping to sneak in to get the win. Before he can do so though Chris uses his brute strength to pull his head free and place his hands to Adams’ upper back, shoving him forward right at Orlando who is somehow getting to his feet. As Adams comes rushing in, Orlando throws his arm across his own partner’s chest then hoists him into the air with the Rock Bottom. Jackson is planted hard into the ring after the impact before Cruze rolls across the canvas to his knees, staggering to his feet with the crowd going nuts. He turns right into Cagero who grabs him around the throat, then takes him by the back of the trunks, hoisting him into the air before chokeslamming him violently into the canvas. Chris crawls into the cover.
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No! Somehow Cruze gets his shoulder up off the canvas at the last second.
Douglas: So close to a pinfall there by Chris Cagero over Orlando Cruze! I thought Cagero had it there for a moment.
Mayne: There has been some unbelievable action thus far in this 6 man tag team match! I can’t believe Orlando had the audacity to turn against his teammate Jackson Adams though. That was completely uncalled for.
Douglas: Are you kidding me? Adams attacked both of his teammates tonight!
The crowd is still going nuts over everything that has transpired thus far in this huge 6 man tag team match, Chris coming within inches of scoring what would have to be considered a major upset. He turns towards Nathan who is pulling himself to his feet and comes charging in with a huge lariat directly to his throat. Creed is taken over the ropes to the outside of the ring while behind his back, Pat Evans is crawling across the ring, dropping into the cover on Adams, hooking his leg. The crowd is screaming while the official makes the three count.
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Everyone packed into the arena seems to be at the point of vomiting over the conclusion of this match as Cagero spins around, shocked by the sight of Evans sneaking in to get the pin over a laid out Jackson Adams. Jon stands up on the outside of the ring, using the barricade to do so while holding his chest. He glares into the squared circle at Evans in the exact same state of utter outrage. His lips are trembling with fury as Pat quickly vacates the ring, dropping to the outside mats and then jumping the barricade in an absolutely exhausted state.
Douglas: Oh no, I can’t believe this. Orlando Cruze laid out Jackson Adams, and just when it looked like Chris Cagero was going to get the pinfall over his opponent, doing pretty much all the work in the ring right now, Pat Evans sneaks in to get the pin. Outrageous.
Mayne: I’d be outraged if anyone but Pat Evans pinned Jackson Adams. But since that’s not the case I’m mildly pleased and at the same time mildly angered. I’m stuck in an emotional limbo.
Jackson sluggishly rolls under the ropes to the outside of the ring now, falling to his feet and beginning to stagger towards the ramp while gripping at the back of his neck, frustrated that he was apparently pinned. Inside of the ring Chris is staring down at Orlando who has rolled to his knees. The two men’s eyes meet while Nathan and Rich just glare at Adams on the ramp from the outside of the ring.
Mayne: Thank God this torture is over finally.
Douglas: I think the torture has just begun for the Alpha Generation, Billy.
The crowd is still screaming over what transpired in the ring, this absolutely insane main event while Jackson Adams staggers in reverse up the ramp. He is drenched with sweat, yet his eyes remain focused on the ring, where Orlando is crouched over Nathan, both men glaring at him in outrage. Rich and Cagero are also staring at him in fury while Pat backs up through the crowd, staring in the direction of the ring in a very disgruntled manner. Jackson has a snide smirk on his exhausted face before suddenly....
I HOPE YOU’RE SATISFIED...
....Is screamed over the PA system, causing the crowd to go nuts. Jackson’s eyes widen and a bulge forms in his throat, sweat seeping down his terrified features.
Douglas: Oh, this isn’t good for Jackson Adams, one way or another he’s going to be made to suffer for what he did in that ring tonight, and apparently before this match.
Mayne: This ain’t good, this ain’t good. Why is AWOL coming out here to go after Adams, when there’s so many others who should be punished in this match, so many others I tell ya!
The hair on the back of Jackson’s neck is starting to stand up while he slowly turns apprehensively towards the curtains, realizing the menacing behemoth that is the GM is lurking behind him. The massive, demented AWOL is located right behind his back, breathing down his neck as Jackson turns to face him, wide eyed and terrified. An intense glare is captured within AWOL’s eyes, as well a snide smirk as he steps towards Adams who tumbles over backwards, landing on his seat then scooting backwards. He back peddles quickly while lifting his hands into the air, begging off, AWOL staring with rage into his trembling features. Jackson is left all alone and completely at the mercy of AWOL who starts to reach out for his hair when a board is cracked right over the back of his knee. The fans react with disgust as AWOL tumbles onto his back, Desolation standing behind him with a broken board in hand. The Dark Man tosses the wood down to the ramp and immediately begins to stomp away at AWOL’s knee while the GM grinds his teeth and shouts in agony.
Dan: Whoa, hold on a second here, I thought the Alpha Generation left the building!
Mayne: I did too, but hahaha, it was a hoax, a hoax!
AWOL lies on his back, still holding his leg before AWOL sits up, throwing right hands into the gut of Desolation, doubling him over. The GM throws right hands into the side of his face before Hurse steps up behind him, swinging a baseball bat right into his upper back. AWOL arches his spine in pain before Jackson gets up, charging forward with boot right to his face, the GM falling onto his back. The competitors in the ring start to climb out to come to AWOL’s aid but Too Magnificent cuts them off on the midway point of the ramp, swinging a 2x4 with razor wire wrapped around it in their direction. He keeps them from reaching AWOL while Desolation drops down beside the GM, beginning to fire off with right hands repeatedly into his face. The GM tries to get his hands up for protection before Hurse rushes in, kicking him to the side of the face with force. AWOL is knocked through a loop, rolling onto his side as a result before the Dark Man grabs his legs. He locks them around his own then grabs his wrists, pulling up on them before burying his foot into the back of his head, delivering the Curb Stomp on the steel stage. The crowd groans the force of the impact they just witnessed while Jackson grabs him by the back of the head, leading him up to his feet. Desolation grabs him by the other side of the body, forcing him to a standing base then rushing him across the stage. The World Champion watches on with a disgusting grin as AWOL is charged all the way to the edge of the ramp then throw off. AWOL turns and crashes on top of tables as well as some electrical equipment, sending sparks flying into the air, dispersing in many different directions. Everyone in the arena stands up, screaming in shock as the General Manager’s body is put through the tables, through the equipment and all, leaving him lying completely motionless now.
Mayne: Oh my God, they killed AWOL, the Alpha Generation just killed the Riot General Manager!
Douglas: Those bastards set AWOL up, they attacked him from behind when he thought they had left the arena, and now they’ve sent him plunging right to his demise. This is absolutely atrocious, someone get some help out here for AWOL.
The GM is displaying zero signs of life, he just lies amongst the broken chunks of wood, barely breathing visibly after crashing through the tables and the electrical equipment. Desolation and Jackson Adams stand at the edge of the stage, glaring down at AWOL with demented smirks on their faces. Jon and Nathan have dropped off the ramp, rushing towards AWOL, coming to his aid as quickly as they can. Orlando and Chris seem a little more apathetic about it, but go nevertheless. Hurse now motions for the Alpha Generation to follow him, which they promptly do. Through the curtains charges the rest of the IWC roster, Psycho amongst them with what appears to be genuine concern stretched over his features. He steps to the edge of the ramp, staring over the side at AWOL who isn’t moving while Rich stands over him, checking on his condition. Orlando and Chris stand over him, Cagero overlooking his battered, bruised features while the Icon does the same, but with a general lack of compassion. The Alpha Generation have gathered at the end of the ramp, backing up across the mats while glaring at the stage where the rest of the roster is gathered. Wide smirks are present on all four men’s faces over what they just did. Hurse is chuckling, as is Desolation while through the crowd gathered on the stage now emerges Chapel. The War Angel pushes his way to the forefront, glaring down at the Alpha Generation now with the Livewire title glistening over his shoulder and anger present across his twisted features. He actually seems enraged by what just happened to AWOL, what the Alpha Generation just did to his former tag team partner, turned enemy.
Dan: I cannot believe what the Alpha Generation have done tonight.
Mayne: Hahahaha, don’t you get this, don’t you understand what the AG have done? You can’t win a war when you don’t have a general. The roster is now leaderless.
Grins are plastered on all the Alpha Gen’s faces, deeply amused by what just transpired, the way they set up AWOL. The way they perpetrated this heinous assault.
Everyone is disgusted, just like the roster on the stage, Chapel standing at the forefront, enraged while staring directly into the face of the World Champion, and the Dark Man. They seem truly proud of themselves.
