Last week, we saw the minor cracks grow along the foundation of Liberation’s finest alliance. Our once great leader shattered the seemingly unbreakable grounds from underneath the Apocalypse of Wrestling and one man in particular. His stern fist met the flesh of a supposed ally, a decision he learn to regret. This weak, our leader will battle against one of the man deemed an archenemy of the state of the allegiance of the Apocalypse of Wrestling.

The scene cuts in to a very unlikely area, on most night’s Liberation Television kicks in with a look through the crowd - not tonight. The thud of the heavy exit door against concrete can be heard, bringing Sean and Chris Van X into the scene – The Van X BoyZ. Both men come equip with arsenal, Chris with a sledgehammer and Sean with a can of spray-paint. The two take a gander around the parking lot, but a certain vehicile in particular catches their eye. The jet black limousine belonging to the likes of the Apocalypse of Wrestling! Chris and Sean turn to each other, exchanging a small chuckle, before they slowly walk over to the vehicle. Chris drops the sledgehammer to his side, ”Ah, there it is. What do you think, Sean? Sean eyes the limo from side to side, nodding his head. ”Let’s do this.”, the solemn words escape his vocal chords, bringing his brother to the point of excitement. Quickly, Chris Van X climbs onto the hood of the limo, sledgehammer readily at hand. Sean quickly leans across the hood, spray-painting a bright red “X” on the middle of the windshield. Sean backs away, just as Chris stomps his feet down across the hood, slightly denting it, while swinging the sledgehammer steadily over the top of his head. With a mighty swing, Chris Van X easily caves the windshield in, sending the glass showering down into the interior of the limo. Chris stomps his way heavily across the hood and steps up onto the roof of the vehicle, dragging the sledgehammer behind him. The heavy sledge grinds loudly across the black paint of the limo’s roof, as Chris makes his way toward the back section. He stops, swinging the hammer up and over his head again, but dropping it limply through the sunroof. The glass crackles, as it breaks and falls to the inside. He steps a few more feet ahead, swinging the sledgehammer up and back down, crashing it through the back window. Soon after, he hops down to see his brother painting, “The Van X BoyZ were here!” sloppily across the siding of the limo. ”I think we’re done here, Sean? What do you think?”, Chris laughingly questions his brother. Sean nods, tossing the spray-paint can to the ground. Admiring his work for a second, Sean accompanies his brother toward the back entrance of Viking Hall.

T.L: Welcome again to Liberation Television, folks. We have a lot going on tonight, as you have already seen.

C.P: Those no fuckin’ good, bitch-ass Van X BoyZ just smashed up a limo. Big fuckin’ deal! What are they tryin’ to prove with shit like that?

T.L: It’s just the eye before the storm, Cody. They are showing the Apocalypse of Wrestling that they are coming – very, very soon!

C.P: What are they comin’ to get, huh? Their fuckin’ asses handed over to them on a silver fuckin’ platter? ‘Cause that’s exactly what’s gonna fuckin’ happen!

T.L: Some beg to differ on that notion, Cody.

C.P: Fuck’ em. If Clarkson and Denison have anythin’ to say about it, the great Van X BoyZ are going to be buried in their own fuckin’ bodily fluids!

T.L: I wouldn’t go to that extent, Cody.

C.P: Fuck you!

T.L: You’re especially snakey tonight, Mr. Prime.

After the verbal exchange between Lockton and Prime, we catch the entrances of our first two men to hit the ring tonight. Terranova makes his way down first, followed by the likes of the National Champion, Cyrus.

Preston Terranova and Cyrus make a full circle around the center of the ring, coming directly into a collar-and-elbow tie-up. Cyrus pushes off with both arms, quickly moving in with a side headlock. Cyrus lifts his arm up and grinds the headlock in tighter, following in with a takedown. On the mat, Cyrus leans his hip tightly against the canvas, pushing Terranova’s shoulder against the canvas. ONE…..TWO….. Terranova lifts his right shoulder off the mat, immediately kicking his legs up to swing them around Cyrus’ head with a figure four lock. As he locks his legs together for the figure fouring of the head, Cyrus releases the headlock. Cyrus takes a roll backward and lands back on his knees, giving him enough room to throw a stiff punch to Terranova’s midsection. “Mr. Miraculous” loosens his grip, as Cyrus gets back up to his feet. Wearily, Cyrus steps back to let Preston Terranova back up to a vertical base. As Terranova gets to a standing position, Cyrus moves in with a closeline, sending Terranova flat across the canvas. Cyrus goes for the cover, but “Mr. Miraculous” kicks out at the beginning of the two. Somewhat irritated by Terranova, Cyrus pulls him back up off the mat to irish-whip him into the ropes. Terranova comes off the ropes and narrowly avoids a closeline by the likes of Cyrus, only to come back off the ropes again. This time, Cyrus ducks low and hooks Terranova – whipping him spine first across the canvas with a power-slam! ONE……..TWO….. Terranova with the shoulder up, again!

T.L: This kid has fight!

C.P: He also has homosexual tendencies…what does that win him, Johnny?

T.L: C’mon, now, Cody. Do you always have to be so judgmental over people?

Cyrus flips Preston Terranova onto his stomach, only to begin grinding his face across the canvas with force. Terranova grabs Cyrus by the ankles and sends him toppling over onto his back. Preston holds onto the ankles and quickly flips over Cyrus, holding him into a pin! ONE……..TWO……, Cyrus manages to get free by flipping Terranova out of his position and onto his back with a seated pinning combination! ONE……..TWO…….NO! Terranova rolls backward to get on his knees, quickly pushing forward, folding Cyrus up for a pin. ONE……TWO…. Cyrus kicks out with full force, turning onto his stomach and getting back up to his feet. Both men stand face to face in their full wrestling stance, as the crowd gives them a round of applause for their combination of pinfall attempts.

T.L: I haven’t seen anything like that in a long time, especially here in the UWWF!

C.P: [yawn] Wow….whoo-hoo….yay….

The two men back away from each other, in order to circle the ring again. The two circle two times, before Terranova comes at Cyrus with a running start. Cyrus oversees the actions and manages to take Preston Terranova to the mat with a arm-drag takeover! The two men get back up to their feet, Terranova moving in on Cyrus. Cyrus ducks under and hoists Preston Terranova onto his shoulders! Preston manages to wriggle free from Cyrus’ grasp and swing around his shoulders and hook the neck, driving Cyrus into the canvas with a swinging d-d-t! THUD! The man rattles with wickedness, as Cyrus is planted head first into the canvas. The crowd gives Preston Terranova a few claps, just before he goes for the cover, ONE………TWO…..NO! Cyrus slings his shoulder up off the mat in the knick of time. Preston Terranova peels Cyrus up off the mat and tries to irish-whip him into the ropes. He manages to force Cyrus into the ropes! As Cyrus comes in close, Terranova jumps into the air, only to be caught around the waist by Cyrus! Cyrus holds Terranova in the air, turning him around in a circle for the fans to see, just before he drops Terranova’s crotch across his knee!

T.L: OW! That atomic drop must have had a huge impact, because from this view…all I can say is…have a nice time tryin’ to have a kid pal!

C.P: Holy shit! Lockton, that was one of the only half-way funny things I’ve ever heard you fucking say! Congratu-fucking-lations, buddy!

Terranova hops back with his hands cupping his crotch with agony in his eyes, while Cyrus measures him up. Cyrus comes forward with a short closeline, followed by a few boots to the ribs. Terranova stays on the canvas, as Cyrus raises his arms in the air to mock his downed opponent. The crowd turns to the side, as a strange, masked man makes his way through the crowd. Angrily, he pushes past several fans, who greet him with cussing. The man turns around and spits directly at them, before he hops the rail and comes into the ringside area.

T.L: That looks like…Synge!

C.P: Who the fuck is that?

T.L: He just signed a contract with UWWF: Liberation, he sent a letter to President Maddog, in which he explained that he had multiple personalities. One strange fellow he is…and I bet he’s out to get Cyrus! He outright demanded a shot at Cyrus, in any way, shape, or form!

Synge runs over to the apron, sliding under the bottom rope with quickness. Synge hits the ring with heavy advantage over either of the men. Although, he is only out to get one man and one man only, that being Cyrus! The crowd cheers, as Cyrus thinks that they are encouraging him to put Terranova out of this contest. He leans over to grab Terranova when he feels a distinct tap on the shoulder from behind. Thinking that it’s the referee, he turns around, ”WHAT?!” Synge laughs, as he greets Cyrus with a kick to the midsection and a jab to the nose. Synge pulls Cyrus’ head up to look in him the eyes, grinning like a madman. Cyrus tries to get away, but Synge kicks him square in the midsection one more time, then grabs him by the wrist. With his tight grip, Synge pulls Cyrus in and Synge proceeds in picking Cyrus up onto his shoulders. Synge takes a sidestep before flipping Cyrus to the side and down across the mat with break neck speed with a death valley driver. “The Mysterious” Synge’s forceful DVD folds Cyrus in half, nearly breaking the man’s neck with the impact of the blow. Synge rises to his knees, lurking over Cyrus with a sadistic grin crossing over his face. Synge pulls Cyrus’ head off the canvas, only to blast him across the chin with his knuckles! Preston Terranova backs into the ropes to gain some momentum, but he has been stopped dead in his tracks! We see the face of Mario C., who grabbed hold of Terranova’s foot and sent him face planting into the canvas. Behind Mario C. stand his allies, Jazz and AWOL - THE BOYZ! The Boyz hit the ring, as Synge tries to take both men on. Synge throws a right hand at AWOL, clipping him in the jaw, but he doesn’t see Jazz coming right after. From the side, Jazz rushes in and takes Synge off his feet with a nicely executed spear! Out of the spear, Jazz quickly begins to rearrange Synge’s jaw with right handed blows! Jazz gets up and starts to back away, but AWOL isn’t to generous . AWOL pulls Synge up to his feet and leads him toward the ropes, throwing him through the middle rope. Synge lands on the apron, immediately falling onto his feet on the floor. AWOL slides under the bottom rope and goes to town on Synge with several rights and lefts. Synge staggers toward the time keeper’s table, which wasn’t a very good move on his part. AWOL rushes in and hits Synge with a semi-closeline, which forces Synge to lean his upper body against the table top. AWOL grabs Synge by the back of the head, just as Jazz comes out to help with the bludgeoning. AWOL winds Synge’s head back and throttles him forehead first across the table top! The table rattles, but it still shows how sturdy it actually is. Jazz rushes in and clears the table of the bell and various papers that line the top, while AWOL slings Synge on top of it with the instruction of Mario C., who is now on the apron. AWOL throws his forearm across Synge’s chest, then makes his way around front to hold down Synge’s arms, while Jazz holds onto Synge’s legs. Mario C. walks along the apron, toward the turnbuckle. He slowly starts to climb the buckle…

T.L: What is Mario C. doing? Is he crazy?

C.P: He must be, Ton. He fuckin’ stepped into the ring with Maddog, didn’t he?

Standing on the middle rope, Mario C. puts one of his hands over his eyes, like a salute, peering down at Synge laid out on the table. Mario C. steadily removes his hand away from the ropes, having both feet set on the middle rope. His legs bend slightly, as he takes a leap from the middle rope and comes flying toward Synge on the table with an extended elbow. Mario C.’s elbow barely hits Synge, but he sure as hell goes through the table with full force! The table cracks in half, as both men lay prone on the concrete floor. The camera view switches, glaring down at Mario C. who has a wince of pain on his face. He huffs in the air, as Synge starts to kick his leg. Jazz and AWOL, the Boyz, step toward the table in order to help Mario C. back up to his feet. AWOL grabs hold of Mario’s arm and hoists him up to his feet, pulling Mario’s arm over his shoulder to help him walk. Jazz pushes on Synge’s stomach with his foot, then he leans over and picks up the large piece of broken table. Lifting the piece of table up over his head, Jazz tosses the wood down across Synge’s upper-body. Jazz turns around to help AWOL with their leader Mario C. Soon, Cyrus meets the three on the outside, grasping the National championship belt between his fingers. The four men make their way around the outside of the ring and toward the entrance ramp.

C.P: Too bad none of them were mysteriously struck by lightning…

T.L: In this arena…it could be possible…

C.P: Fuck, I was hoping to see a little blood…instead, I get to see Mario C. put some douche bag through a table. I guess…in the end…it was better than an entire match of…pin into pin…into pin…fuck, I’m glad that ended…

The show cuts to the backstage where Bonez is seen walking through the hallway. He rounds the corner, straight into G-Man. A smile cracks across G-Man’s face as he looks at Bonez. Bonez gives him a disgruntled look.

G-Man: Heh, if it isn’t the abandoned child himself.

Bonez: What’s that supposed to mean?

G-Man: What do you think it means? Your so called allies have turned their backs on you. Wake up and smell the coffee Bonez. Jeremy and Denison are going to turn on you too. Maybe you should join our cause and even the odds.

Bonez just stands there, staring at G-Man. He starts to shake his head no.

G-Man: Fine, have it your way.

G-Man brushes past Bonez, banging him lightly with his shoulder. Bonez turns around to look at him.

Bonez: G-Man, wait.

G-Man turns back around as he was just about to walk around the corner. Bonesz motions for him to come back.

Bonez: I might just take your offer after all. But first, I want to know what’s in it for me?

G-Man: Ok, follow me this way.

G-Man starts to walk off in the direction he was headed and Bonez follows. They round the corner and walk down the hall a little. They come to some boxes and G-Man walks past them with Bonez in tow. As Bonez is about to pass the boxes, Black Rain jumps out and starts to beat him down. G-Man joins in on the attack and before long, Bonez is laid out on the floor. G-Man puts his hand on Black Rain’s chest, halting the attack for a moment.

G-Man: You really thought I was going to let all that you have done to me go? Did you really think I forgot what went down at Blood Money? FUCK YOU!!

Bonez: You’re dead, G.

Bonez has gotten back to his hands and knees and is slowly starting to get to his feet. G-Man kicks him in the ribs, sending him back to the floor. He stomps him a few more times before getting into his face.

G-Man: I’m dead? I highly doubt it. Without the AoW behind you, you’re nothing Bonez. And if you want to try and exact some revenge, just remember this little beating and remember that it’ll be worse next time. Let’s jet, Rain.

G-Man and Black Rain high five before walking off down the hall. The scene cuts off elsewhere in the arena .

C.P: Fuck them and their fuckin’ mommas..and their fuckin’ momma’s mommas too! They’ll get what’s coming to them, sooner or fucking later!

T.L: Next up, we have G-Man taking on the likes of Big Lee Levec. Two men about to give it their all in what looks to be a great technical showdown.

C.P: Wake me up when this shit-fest is over with.

Big Lee Levec stands in the center of the ring with his arms crossed over his chest, ready to take on the likes of the former heavyweight champion of this federation, G-Man. The crowd is excited to see G-Man back in the Liberation ring again this week, chanting his name over and over. The fans are nearing the middle of another ”G-Man” chant, when they are suddenly cut off by the likes of “(I Hate) Everything About You” by the Three Days Grace. The curtain opens and G-Man pushes through, arms high in the air. The fans greet him with a loud ovation, showing him acceptance here in Viking Hall.

T.L: These fans are really showing appreciation for our former champion, G-Man.

C.P: I’ll show my appreciation to him, when I piss on his grave after the Apocalypse of Wrestling finally destroy his sorry ass.

G-Man makes his way down the aisle, while the fans try to lean over the railing to try and get a high-five or to pat him on the back. He says a few words with the fans, before he finally makes his way into the ring. He walks around the outer area of the ring, sliding his hand along the ropes, as Levec follows him with his eyes. G-Man stops by the turnbuckle, while he grabs onto the ropes and stretches his arms a bit. The referee instructs G-Man to come in close, which he abides. The two men stand toe to toe, as the referee checks in with both men before the beginning of the match. He nods his head, waving his hand for the bell. The bell sounds loudly…

T.L: And, here we begin, folks!

Levec shoves the palms of his hands across G-Man’s chest, forcing G-Man to take a step back. Levec smirks at G-Man, as G-Man looks down at his chest. G-Man brings his attention back to Levec, returning a stern push to the chest back at him. Levec is pushed back a few feet, but comes back at G-Man with a right hook. G-Man ducks and forces his shoulder into Levec’s chest and brings him back into the ropes. From there, G-Man grabs Levec’s arm and bounces him off the ropes, sending him into the far ropes with an irish-whip. Levec comes barreling off the ropes back at him, but Levec meets the lifted knee of G-Man in the mid-section. Big Lee Levec flips over G-Man’s knee and lands back first on the canvas. G-Man jumps up and drops his knee down across the top of Levec’s head to stun him a bit. G-Man pulls up on Levec’s head, sitting him up, then thrusting his arm around Levec’s neck with a sleeper. Levec struggles to get free, but G-Man has him exactly where he wants him for the time being. “Big” Lee’s arms slowly become very weak, dropping to his sides. The referee checks in by lifting up Levec’s arm and dropping it. He holds his hand up and yells, ”ONE!”, G-Man’s face shows a bit of disgust in Levec for being done so quickly. The ref lifts the arm again and drops it, ”TWO!” As he lifts the hand to drop it again, Levec’s arm stays upward, but slightly shaking. Levec starts to stand up and G-Man holds onto the sleeper hold like it’s nobody’s business. Levec turns to his side and rattles G-Man’s chest with a elbow. G-Man releases the neck and Levec turns and runs across to the ropes. Levec comes off the ropes, only to have G-Man fall to his stomach, and Levec hops over him and runs into the far ropes. G-Man quickly comes back up to his feet and plants a dropkick into “Big” Lee Levec’s chest, forcing him to hit the canvas. G-Man moves in on Levec, pulling him up to his feet and bending him over. G-Man raises his elbow and drops it down across the back of Levec’s neck. Levec still stands, so G-Man gives him another elbow just for good caution. “Big” Lee Levec staggers forward into G-Man, who follows up the blows with a high swinging neckbreaker! G-Man floats over, ONE………TWO…..KICK OUT!

T.L: Levec kicked out! I can’t believe it!

C.P: I can’t either, what the fuck….what a fucking waste of a night!

G-Man backs away from Levec, waiting for him to get up to his feet. Levec rushes at him with a dazed look on his face, only to be hip-tossed to the canvas! “Big” Lee Levec staggers to his feet and runs right into a second hip-toss. He rolls over and gets back up to his feet, this time G-Man meets him with an irish-whip! Levec, like a sloth, slowly runs into the ropes, almost falling onto his knees. He manages to come back off the ropes, where G-Man catches him in mid-running and brings him to the canvas with a power-slam! G-Man covers, ONE……..TWO……KICK OUT, AGAIN!

C.P: When will this end…jesus christ!

G-Man pulls the weary big man, Levec, up to his feet. G-Man slathers him with a few forearms to the side of the head, just to make sure Big Lee has no fight left in him. G-Man wraps his arms around Levec’s waist and lifts him into the air, looking to be a heavy piledriver to the canvas. Just as G-Man jumps into the air, he flapjacks Levec across his stomach! G-Man tries to pull Levec off the mat one more time, but with his dead weight forcing down G-Man has to try a little harder. G-Man finally gets him up to his feet and he hooks him around the neck, lifting him into the air. G-Man kicks his legs out from underneath himself, driving Levec into the canvas with an altered version of a Rock Bottom, seen in the likes of his match with Jeremy Clarkson. Levec’s head bangs off the mat with authority and G-Man knows that Levec is down for the count! G-Man rolls his back across Levec’s chest, picking up his leg to hold him down even further. ONE…….TWO…. The crowd chants along with the referee, ”THREE!” G-Man sits up and the referee grabs his wrist and pulls his arm into the air for the victory.

The crowd cheers for G-Man loudly, only before they see the President of Liberation standing a foot past the curtain of the entrance. President Maddog stands with his eyes locked on G-Man inside the ring, with his index finger pointed toward G-Man.

Maddog: Tonight is a very lucky night for you, G-Man. Tonight is the only night that the Apocalypse of Wrestling won’t hand your ass over to you. Why? Because tonight, I’m in a very giving mood. I’ll give you the night off from an ass kicking and later on tonight, I’m going to be handing that over to your little partner – Black Rain. How about that? Don’t you feel special?

G-Man returns a remark that can only be heard by the nearby fans.

Maddog: What was that, G-Man? You’re a bitch? That’s right, because attacking Bonez is the least of both of your fucking problems. You see, you aren’t going to strike anger in a man such as myself by doing so…you’re only adding more punishment to that man you call a friend. You’ll be lucky to survive long enough to compete at the next pay per view, pal.

G-Man can be heard through the roaring crowd, ”So why the hell are you out here in the first place?”

Maddog laughs, as he continues to point at G-Man.

Maddog: I was just out here to congratulate you for both defeating “Big” Lee Levec…and the fact that the Apocalypse of Wrestling won’t be tearing your ass apart tonight. That’s my only reason, G-Man, that’s my only reason. Isn’t it nice to know that you’ll live to see another day? Cherish it, G-Man. It won’t last too fucking long, my friend.

Maddog drops the microphone, sarcastically waving “good-bye” to G-Man, before he finally goes back through the curtain.

President Maddog continues through the curtain, walking down the hallway a bit distracted by something on his mind. He turns his head, gazing at the various “UWWF: Liberation” posters on the wall, not noticing the likes of Curtis “Bonez” Schmitt standing a few feet away. Bonez tightens his fists, as he sees President Maddog walking toward him. Still not noticing Bonez, Maddog walks right into him, colliding shoulders.

Bonez: What the fuck is your problem?

Maddog turns his head with surprise, looking back at Bonez with his brow crinkled slightly.

Maddog: Sorry, Bonez, I didn’t see you there.

Bonez: If you’ve got a fucking problem, I’ll be sure to fuckin’ finish it! Right here, dawg! Right fucking here!

Maddog waves his hands at Bonez.

Maddog: Hey, mother fucker, you better listen and listen good. I’m not here right now to kick your fucking ass all through this arena, I’m just headed down the hall. You shouldn’t be concerned with kicking my fucking ass, when you’ve got Chris Van X head hunting for your ass here tonight. Plus…those no good, cock-suckers..G-Man and Black Rain. So if you want to go, I’ll fuckin’ strangle you, right….fucking…..now.

Bonez pushes Maddog into the far wall of the hallway, coming right for Maddog. Maddog tries to block Bonez from hitting him, but Bonez surprises him by grabbing him by the throat and pinning him against the wall.

Bonez: You’ve got some fucking nerve…

The commotion between Maddog and Bonez is silenced by the likes of G-Man and Black Rain, who run into the scene. G-Man thrusts his arm around Bonez’ throat from behind, choking him slightly, as he pulls him away from Maddog. Maddog pushes Bonez hand back, as Black Rain grabs onto Maddog’s arm and throws him to the floor. Black Rain gives Maddog a good stiff kick to the ribs, before he turns and throws his fist into Bonez’s jaw. G-Man uses the strength in his arms to throw Bonez to the floor! Black Rain and G-Man make their way down the hallway, leaving their fallen foes in the hallway to lay beaten.

T.L: Word is, they aren’t in the arena tonight. Jeremy Clarkson hasn’t been seen since his last interview…I’m puzzled on why he isn’t here tonight.

C.P: He’s pondering that rift between Maddog and Bonez, who just got attacked by those two back-door boys, Black Rain and G-Man. Those bitch-ass mother…

T.L: On the other hand, we have Nightmare taking on Exodus for the Street-Figth Championship belt! This stemmed from Exodus’ challenges and his attack on Nightmare last week!

C.P: WE WANT CLARK-SON! WE WANT CLARK-SON!

T.L: Let’s get to the ring, before he continues on with his belligerence.

We cut to the ring, as Exodus pushes past the curtain and starts down toward the ring – gazing into the crowd slightly. Nightmare quickly rushes out from the back, but the fans point him out to Exodus. Quickly, Exodus turns around to meet Nightmare, but he only catches a stinging right to the jaw! Exodus stumbles back, but Nightmare continues to move in. Grabbing Exodus by the head, Nightmare rattles him head first across the steel guardrail! Nightmare peels Exodus away from the steel, forcing him to walk toward the ring. Nightmare stops before they get too close to the ring, grabbing Exodus by the wrist. Nightmare takes a few trotting steps back and sends Exodus running toward the apron. THUD! Exodus collides with his spine against the apron, dropping down to his knees to grab hold of his now wounded backside! Nightmare stalks his opponent, moving in, but he doesn’t immediately go after him. Nightmare slowly makes his way over to the railing, where several steel chairs sit unoccupied. Nightmare grabs hold of one of the chairs, not bothering to fold it up. He picks it up with ease, throwing it right across the ringside area, hitting Exodus across the head and upper back! Exodus puts his head down across the floor, as Nightmare picks up two more chairs and comes at him. Exodus lifts his head and Nightmare tosses one of the chairs down onto him. Exodus puts his hands up and tosses the chair to the side, while Nightmare folds the other up for his use. Just as Exodus looks up to see Nightmare, he gets whaffled across the noggin with the steel chair! The chair thuds across Exodus’ head, but Nightmare won’t stop with his assault. Nightmare, with his free hand, grabs Exodus by the hair and pulls him up to his feet. Nightmare winds the chair back, but Exodus gives him a stiff kick to the midsection. Nightmare drops the chair, landing it directly on the apron of the ring. Exodus makes sure to give Nightmare a shot to the jaw with his closed fist, before he throws him under the bottom rope into the ring. Nightmare slowly starts to his feet, as Exodus makes his way back into the ring.

T.L: We’ve got ourselves a street-fight, folks!

C.P: Give me a break, bitch. We’re in the arena, this ain’t no fuckin’ street-fight.

T.L: It’s just an expression, Cody, don’t get too excited over it.

Exodus raises his boot to stomp Nightmare across the head, but when he brings his foot down, Nightmare manages to catch it with both hands. Exodus hops on one foot, only to be pulled into a double leg-takedown by the likes of Nightmare! Nightmare slithers over Exodus, planting several punches to the chest, bringing himself up enough to clobber him across the face. Nightmare then drags Exodus up to his feet, throttling him with a right hand and knocking him into the buckle. Nightmare backs up a few feet, then comes at Exodus with a full force sprint. Nightmare jumps in the air just before he hits Exodus, planting him into the buckle with a massive closeline. Exodus’ legs buckle, as he almost falls to the canvas, but Nightmare’s body forces him to keep up to his feet. Nightmare grabs Exodus by the arm and sends him into the far buckle with a quick irish-whip. Exodus’ back connects with the buckle and the momentum forces him to take a few steps forward. From there, Nightmare comes at him again, knocking him off his feet with a brutal closeline, nearly folding Exodus in half!

T.L: Nightmare isn’t playing around with Exodus, folks. We heard him say, no matter the outcome of tonight’s match-up, there will be a return match at the pay per view. Which is coming up pretty darn quick here.

C.P: Pay per view….you mean, like, Playboy?

T.L: Exactly, but a UWWF pay per view. The most brutal pay per view attraction that the wrestling world has ever seen, only here in UWWF: Liberation!

Nightmare leans over and pulls Exodus off the mat, pushing him into the buckle with both hands. Nightmare slowly makes his way across the ring to grab the steel chair, in which he acquires a few seconds later. Exodus staggers away from the buckle, as Nightmare turns around. Laughing, Nightmare takes a step forward with a mighty swing, THUD! The chair dents clear across the top of Exodus’ head, bringing him down to a sitting position.

T.L: He darn near broke that chair over Exodus’ head! Did you see that!?

C.P: Yeah….yeah……

Nightmare decides to toss the steel chair to the side, only to lead Exodus back up to his feet. After a few punches, Nightmare seems to have Exodus where he wants him, beaten and almost bloodied! Nightmare grabs Exodus by the arm and leads him into a gorilla press, lifting Exodus high above the canvas. Nightmare’s arm gives out and he drops Exodus back down to his feet. Exodus grabs Nightmare by the hair, throttling him with several heavy rights to the side of the cranium. Exodus leads Nightmare toward the turnbuckle, but Nightmare fights free from his grasp, hitting Exodus with a back elbow to the ribs. Nightmare swiftly turns around and wraps his knuckles off Exodus’ forehead for good measure. With a kick to the stomach, Nightmare doubles Exodus over, proceeding to throw punches across the back of his head! Nightmare lifts his arm up and drops a heavy elbow across the upper half of Exodus’ neck, dropping him to the canvas. From there, Nightmare flips Exodus over onto his back, for what seems to be the beginning of the end for Exodus! Nightmare lifts his right arm into the air, quickly throwing stiff blows to the middle of Exodus’ head. The blows come so quickly, it leaves no other alternative for Exodus but to take the blows in – one by one. The referee rushes in, yelling for Nightmare to stop – as a hint of blood begins to drizzle down from Exodus’ right eye. Nightmare stands fully up to his feet, grabbing the referee by the shirt, tossing him down to the mat. Nightmare turns back to grab Exodus by the head, WHOOF! A fireball comes flying out from Exodus’ hands, just as Nightmare leans down over him. Nightmare falls back first against the canvas, with his hands over his face, as Exodus scrambles to get to his feet. Exodus lurks over Nightmare, trying to catch as much breath as possible. He takes a huge gulp of air, before he tries to pull Nightmare to his feet. He successfully pulls Nightmare to his feet, winding up with his good hand to wallop Nightmare. With one hand over his face, we can see Nightmare is only playing possum! Exodus swings, only to have the blow blocked by Nightmare’s forearm! Nightmare pushes Exodus back and takes a swipe at Exodus, knocking him flat across the canvas with a huge forearm to the side of the head. Exodus hits the canvas, while Nightmare comes up from by his head, sitting Exodus up. From behind, Nightmare tilts Exodus’ head back and begins using his fingers to pry at the open laceration on the side of Exodus’ eye. He digs the fingers on his right hand directly into the wound, as he pulls his left hand back and drops his fist onto the laceration. Blood begins welling up in the wound, but Nightmare isn’t finished – not by a long shot. Nightmare lifts his left arm up, still grinding his fingers into the laceration. Nightmare’s elbow comes crashing down across Exodus’ eye socket, which busts the wound open even more. This time, blood begins streaming down the side of Exodus’ face. Nightmare lifts his blood splattered elbow into the air, dropping it down across the eye socket again! THUD! The bone on bone collision can be heard in the front row of the crowd, making some fans turn their heads with disgust. Nightmare throws Exodus’ head to the side, thudding it against the canvas, as he rises to his feet. Nightmare grabs the steel chair that he had used minutes before, making his way over to the turnbuckle. Nightmare wedges the steel chair between the middle and top ropes in the turnbuckle, holding it in place in a steady form. The referee stands back in the far corner of the ring, out of harm’s way, only to watch the mayhem continue. Nightmare has Exodus back on his feet, only to lead him toward the buckle. Nightmare grabs Exodus by the small of the neck, leading him in with force toward the steel chair. The steel rings on impact with Exodus’ head, which drops him down to his knees again. Nightmare forces Exodus to stand, as he batters his head into the steel one more time, showing a large amount of blood that had been splattered across the seat of the steel chair. ”Bitch., is mumbled from Nightmare’s mouth, as he looks down at the blood stained seat of the chair. The referee dashes across the ring, seeing the amount of blood that had been shed onto the chair after the blow. Cautiously, the referee makes his way to the side of Exodus, while Nightmare continues to blast him with closed right hands to the swelling, bloodied eye socket. The referee drastically waves his arms in the air, calling for the bell. Hearing the bell, Nightmare looks up at the referee with a “death” glare, pushing Exodus to the side. Exodus, exhausted, falls to the side and lands face first against the canvas. Holding up his hands, the referee backs up as Nightmare approaches him. ”I had to do it, Nightmare. I’m only doing my job, man.”, the referee belts out with fear in his voice. Nightmare spits on the canvas, just before he lunges at the referee, grabbing him by the shirt. The referee tries to pull away, but Nightmare’s grip is too much for him. Nightmare grips the shirt and takes a step back, slinging the referee over the top rope! The referee lands on the apron and falls to the floor in a heap, as Nightmare looks down at him with anger. The ring announcer rushes over and holds the gold-plated Street-Fight championship belt through the ropes, trying to avoid a beating at the hands of Nightmare. Nightmare swipes the belt away from the announcer, making his way back over to Exodus. Exodus turns over onto his back, as Nightmare approaches. Exodus has enough time to wipe some of the sweat and blood away from his slowly blackening eye, to see Nightmare standing directly above him. Nightmare kneels down and grabs him by the head, ”You want my belt?” Nightmare questions Exodus, who doesn’t seem to have an answer at this point. ”Here, have it!”, Nightmare growls, as he sends the faceplate of the belt smashing into the middle of Exodus’ face! Exodus head flops back down across the canvas, while Nightmare stands back up and backs away.

C.P: Those two aren’t done fuckin’ fighting yet, you can fuckin’ bet on that one.

T.L: Those two will be leading way for a pay per view match, title on the line, Dante’s Inferno!

C.P: Fuck…ain’t that a movie?

T.L: Speaking of pay per views, we are going to view a contest next for the number one contedership for the National championship. Two men enter, one man leaves with a title shot under his waist to be brought to him at the pay per view!

C.P: Yipee-fucking-skippy.

T.L: The second match in his return, Sean Van X, takes on his brother and his attacker from last week in their tag-team bout. Sean Van X has a chance to exact a little revenge on Johnny Pyscho!

C.P: Coming up next, SHIT-FEST TWO! You heard it here, people.

The two men are already in the ring and ready to square off in this number one contenders match-up, brought to you by the one and only – UWWF: Liberation!

The announcer stands between both men, who are about ten feet apart at this point. He points to Sean Van X, who raises his arms in the air with the fans showing great acceptance to him.

Announcer: Standing to my right, is one-half of the greatest tag-team in UWWF history, the one…the only…SEAN VAN X!

The crowd roars, as Sean Van X does a jump into the air (almost like Rob Van Dam). Johnny Psycho leans forward with his fists becoming tighter as the seconds pass.

Announcer: And his opponent, standing to my left…the man known as, JOHNNY PSYCHO!

The crowd shows less acceptance, except a few in the minority among the crowd. Several fans of Johnny Psycho jump up and cheer for him, as he steps forward, locking his eyes on Sean Van X. The announcer quickly exits the ring, as the referee calls for the bell.

The match begins with a quick lock-up, pushing and tugging from each side. Johnny Psycho breaks the lock-up with a push, but Sean Van X slides with his legs out, knocking Psycho’s legs out from underneath him. Sean Van X quickly gets back up to his feet, leading Johnny Psycho up by the head. Van X gives him a side kick to the midsection, followed by a whip into the ropes. Johnny Psycho runs off the ropes and comes back at Van X, who has now stepped forward a few feet. Springing off his legs, Van X manages to leap into a full spin-wheel kick, connecting with his heel directly across Johnny’s chin! Johnny Psycho hits the canvas and Sean Van X goes for an early cover, ONE…….TWO…… a kick out by Johnny Psycho.

T.L: Sean Van X is looking good right now, he’s showing Johnny Psycho that those years in the bush-leagues didn’t damage his abilities one bit!

C.P: That’s for damn sure!

T.L: I thought you didn’t like this guy?

C.P: I don’t, Ton, but he’s still got talent!

Johnny Psycho fits off Sean Van X’s attempt to pull him back up with some punches to the midsection. Psycho delivers a knee to the midsection, then a whip into the ropes. Sean Van X comes off the ropes with speed, quicker than Psycho had expected! Sean attempts a leap frog, but Johnny Psycho catches him in the air! Sean Van X throws a quick jab at Johnny’s chin, then leans back and takes him over with a frankensteiner! Johnny’s back slides across the canvas with a rattling thud, almost knocking the air right out of him. Van X gets to his knees and raises his arms high into the air, showing that he still has a lot left in him. Van X jumps up and lands on his feet, turning to Johnny Psycho his now sitting up with his back facing Van X. Sean Van X turns and runs off the ropes, getting a fair amount of speed along with him. From behind, Sean Van X sends a stealth dropkick into Johnny Psycho’s back! The dropkick sends Johnny’s upper body jolting forward, but then he quickly falls onto his back again. Sean Van X gets to the turnbuckle in a fairly quick fashion, hoisting himself onto the middle rope. Johnny Psycho doesn’t even see the high risk maneuver coming, when Sean Van X springs off the middle rope in the turnbuckle and comes crashing down over his throat with a middle rope leg-drop! Psycho’s body jolts again, as Sean Van X stays in the same position for a cover. ONE………TWO……. Johnny Psycho manages to lift his shoulder off the canvas, which gives Sean Van X a little more motivation to take him out of this contest.

T.L: Now, Sean Van X has backed off Johnny Psycho. He’s waiting for him to get up, which I think is a bad idea.

C.P: Fuck, you think everything’s a bad idea. Drinking, bad idea. Smoking, bad idea. Sex, bad idea. Being gay is the only thing that you think is a good idea.

T.L: That’s not true. Why must you slander me with such obscene language? Cody, there’s nothing wrong with homosexual men.

C.P: See, I fuckin’ told you. You ain’t got to lie to kick it, homie.

Johnny Psycho charges at Sean Van X, who drops him with a quick drop-toe hold! Sean Van X lurks behind Johnny Psycho, hooking him around the waist and bringing him back up to his feet. Sean Van X attempts a belly-to-back suplex, but Psycho rocks him with a back elbow to the chops. Johnny Psycho turns around, only to have Sean Van X charge him into the ropes! Against the ropes, Sean Van X grabs the middle rope and pushes himself backward, thrusting his chest into Johnny Psycho’s stomach. As Psycho is pushed forward, Sean Van X pulls away from the situation by going around the side. Sean turns Johnny Psycho toward the ropes, then he grabs onto the top rope and launches himself onto the apron. Sean Van X grabs Johnny Psycho by the head and leans him over the top rope. Then, Van X goes between the top and middle rope, thrusting his shoulder into Johnny’s midsection a second time. From there, Sean Van X grabs onto the top rope and somersaults over the ropes, hooking Johnny Psycho on his way down.

T.L: CLASSIC! A SUNSET FLIP! I haven’t seen one of those in years!

ONE……..TWO…… Sean Van X only gets a two count out of the sunset flip! Johnny Psycho manages to catch Sean Van X with a kick to the lip! Sean Van X pushes Psycho’s legs away to grab onto his face with his free hand. Johnny Psycho grabs hold of Sean Van X’s head and pulls him up to his feet. After two closed rights, Johnny Psycho whips Sean Van X into the ropes with authority. With the whip, Psycho runs toward the ropes, not knowing that Sean Van X would jump onto the middle rope and spring himself back! Sean Van X’s speed from the back springboard adds huge wallop to his back elbow that catches Johnny Psycho square in the jaw!

T.L: Both men hit the canvas, but Johnny Psycho felt the entire brunt of that blow!

Sean Van X takes a few minutes to regain his composure after hitting the canvas with such force, but it doesn’t stop him from getting Johnny Psycho back up to a vertical base. Van X leads Johnny Psycho toward the turnbuckle, stopping about seven feet shy of the buckle. Van X turns and gives a knee to Psycho’s midsection, followed by a scoop and a heavy slam to the canvas – which makes Sean Van X bounces on his feet after the outcome of the maneuver. Sean Van X knows that he has this match under his belt, but he won’t stop until he’s good and damn satisfied with what he’s about to accomplish. So, Sean Van X makes his way over to the turnbuckle, grabbing onto both sides of the ropes, springing himself onto the middle rope. He turns around and takes a up and back, so he is perched up onto the top of the turnbuckle.

T.L: Sean Van X is taking it to the air, folks!

C.P: It’s a turd…no it’s a plane….no it’s, Sean Van X! [laughing to himself, getting a glare from Tony Lockton]

Sean Van X leaps from the top rope with a twisting somersault attack, crashing down across Johnny Psycho’s chest. The force of the blow knocks Johnny Psycho to the mat with Van X landing directly on top of him, adding insult to injury! Sean Van X sits up and raises his arms in the air, knowing that he has Johnny Psycho where he wants him. Sean Van X rolls over onto his stomach, pushing himself up with both arms and getting back up to his feet. Sean grabs Johnny Psycho by the arms and drags him more toward the center of the ring, stopping when he gets him right where he wants him. Sean Van X makes his way straight to the ropes, climbing through to the outside.

T.L: Where is Sean Van X going? He has the match won!

C.P: I couldn’t care more and I could give a fuck less..

Van X leans under the apron, pulling a fairly large ladder out from underneath.

T.L: That there has to be a fifteen footer!

Sean Van X flips the ladder upright, not bothering to bring it into the ring. The ladder now stands sturdily, as Sean Van X ascends it’s rungs. Quickly, Sean Van X climbs the ladder making his way to the top. Standing on the very top of the ladder, Sean Van X raises his arms in the air and takes a dive! Pumping into a frog splash, Sean Van X comes down across Johnny Psycho’s chest with full force! Sean Van X lifts his body up, as he proceeds to make the cover. ONE………TWO………THREE!

C.P: Hey, that mother fucker right there…top notch. Except for he’s a little bitch….trashing a fucking limo…

T.L: What goes around, comes around, Cody.

C.P: Fuck that, inbred!

T.L: Well, we have Sean Van X’s brother, Chris going up against….the Apocalypse of Wrestling’s, Curtis “Bonez” Schmitt!

C.P: Bonez is going to tear that mu-fucka a new one, truth be told.

T.L: Barbed-wire ropes!

C.P: Don’t forget to fucking mention, the barbed-wire wrapped chain that will be wrapped around both mu-fuckas wrists!

T.L: That’s right, Cody! Pure, all-out may-hem!

C.P: That’s comin’ at ch’all, real fuckin’ quick like!

Inside the ring, both men are getting their chains adjusted in order for them to do battle tonight. The referee makes sure the chains are secure around both men’s wrists, nodding his head with acceptance. He asks both men if they are ready to go at it, both quickly agree. Bonez slowly starts to pull on the chain, wrapping it around his fists, but Chris notices it, but doesn’t pay much attention. The bell sounds in the background!

Bonez runs forward with his laced fist, taking a swing at Van X! Van X throws his arm up and blocks it, but it doesn’t save him from a minor flesh wound from the barbed-wire! Bonez pulls away, as Chris Van X winds up and hits him with a jab to the jawbone. Bonez stumbles into the grasp of Chris Van X, who grabs him by the arm and attempts a whip into the ropes. Bonez trips over the chain, falling to his knees! Chris Van X comes up from behind, stomping his boot heavily across the back of Bonez’ head.

C.P: Ya know, I would have said this fuckin’ match right here would be fair, but G-Man and Black Rain attacked him twice!

T.L: That’s bullsh..uckey

C.P: How fucking so?

Chris Van X pulls Bonez up by the head, dragging him toward the ropes. Chris turns Bonez to the side, thrusting him into a stiff headbutt to the bridge of the nose. Chris keeps hold of Bonez’ head, bringing him close to the ropes. Bonez throws an elbow into Chris Van X’s side! Bonez turns around and gives him a few punches to the gut, but Van X returns a few of his own. Bonez winds up to throw another punch, which is blocked by a knee to the gut from Van X. Van X grabs Bonez by the back of the head with both hands, pushing him into the wire! Bonez lands back first against the barbed-wire. Chris thrust his right hand forward, pushing on Bonez’ jaw, forcing further into the barbed-wire. Leaning his left arm back, Chris Van X clubs Curtis Schmitt across the chest! Chris backs away, waving at Bonez to bring the fight right to him. Bonez struggles free from the wire, coming at Chris Van X with a forceful punch. Bonez connects and Chris stumbles backward, taking a step forward to return the favor. Bonez’ head lashes to the side from the blow, showing Chris Van X that his jab was successful. Chris Van X gives himself a little slack, in order to make his way over to the corner to grab his barbed-wire wrapped singapore cane! He steps over the chain and leans over to grab the cane, gasping it in his hand just as Bonez pulls on the chain! The chain cleanly pulls and catches Chris down low! Bonez winds up the chain as he makes his way closer, dropping the chain when he gets a few feet away. Chris still leaning over, manages to pick up the singapore cane without Bonez noticing. Bonez comes within inches of Chris Van X, close enough to grab Chris by the shoulder and swing him around. Bonez is surprised by a kick to the stomach, as Chris steadies both hands across the handle of the barbed-wire wrapped cane! Chris nudges Bonez’ forehead with the cane, pushing him back a few feet. Chris Van X measures Curtis Schmitt’s head with the cane, as if he were about to swing for a home-run. He taps the cane across Bonez’ head, once, twice and three times! After the third tap, Chris Van X swings the cane back and unleashes the cane across the side of Curtis “Bonez” Schmitt’s head! WHACK! The cane almost breaks in half after the blow, sending Bonez down to his knees. Bonez grabs the side of his face, as blood begins to drip slightly through his fingers. Bonez crawls on his hands and feet, trying to get away from Van X. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! The cane repeatedly bashes against the back of Schmitt’s head.

C.P: For fuck’s sake man, he’s already been attacked twice tonight! Give the mother fucker a break!

T.L: So now you’ve got pity for someone…a sad day in Cody Prime’s life indeed.

C.P: Fuck you!

The barbed-wire rakes him across the head, opening several small gashes along the scalp. Chris drops the cane to wrap the chain around Bonez’ neck to drag him back up to his feet. Bonez grabs onto the chain, to make sure the barbed-wire doesn’t catch him anywhere along his neckline. Quickly, Chris Van X steps toward the ropes, giving Bonez a tug! Schmitt’s body comes close the wire and Chris strong-arms him to the point where Bonez is thrown into the ropes and over the top to the outside. Bonez’ arm catches and pulls tightly, forcing him to fall onto his side across the floor. On impact with the floor, Bonez’ arm hits the apron with full force, making Bonez cringe slightly. Chris Van X pushes down on the top rope with both hands, not caring about the razor sharp barbs that are protruding out of the wire. Chris Van X waits for Bonez to get up, in order to jump off the apron and club Bonez across the head with a double ax-handle blow. Bonez falls to his knees, while Chris Van X has time to dig underneath the ring for some sort of weapon.

T.L: What is Van X doing now?

C.P: It’s a little obvious what the fuck he’s doing, Lockton. He’s pulling out what looks to be…

A TABLE! Chris Van X slides the table under the ring, going back to Bonez to help him back up to his feet. Soon, Chris Van X and Curtis Schmitt are back in the ring, with Chris Van X still in charge of this match-up. Chris grabs Bonez’ shirt and pulls it over his head, similar to a good ol’ fashion hockey brawl. Chris raises his fists, jab, jab, jab! Bonez staggers to the side; jab, jab, jab! Bonez is about to go down, but Chris Van X pulls the shirt completely off of Bonez’s body. Chris Van X uses a stomp like kick to the side of Bonez’s leg to bring him down to a lower level. Chris Van X leans over and forces Bonez to crawl forward a few feet on his hands and knees. Chris gives him a stiff boot to the ribs, before he picks up the length of barbed-wire wrapped chain. He swings it around in the air like a lasso, giving the fans a bit of a show before he whips the hell out of Bonez! Chris Van X swings the chain in the air for a few more seconds, as Bonez is still on his hands and knees. CHING! The chain rattles as Bonez gets whipped across his bare-back with the barbed-wire wrapped chain! The camera zooms in to see the barbs tear at the flesh on Bonez’ exposed back. Chris Van X tugs on the chain, which brings out a moan of pain from Bonez, as blood begins to speckle off Bonez’ skin. Chris Van X swings the chain across the back, CHING! As he lifts the chain one more time, Bonez lifts his arm and catches Chris Van X with a low-blow!

T.L: What a cheap shot!

C.P: Cheap shot, pshhh…

Bonez grabs Van X around the waist and holds him in place, removing one hand away from the waist. Bonez winds up and catches him with a punch to the stomach, before he uses Van X as a crutch to get back up to his feet. Bonez lifts his leg and Chris Van X gets caught with a kick to the stomach and a stern knee-lift to the teeth! Bonez leans over and picks up the table, putting the legs up on one side, then proceeding to the other. Curtis Schmitt throws a right hand across Chris Van X’s jaw, only to follow up by driving Van X head first into the table top! THUD! Bonez pushes Chris Van X back, in order to climb up onto the top of the table. Bonez leans over the side of the table, when he finally stands up and he tries to pull Chris Van X onto the table! Bonez jabs him one last time, before grabbing him by the head. Bonez lifts up on the head, but Van X grabs the chain and tugs violently. Bonez loses his balance slightly, as Chris grabs the length of chain with both hands, flipping Bonez off of the table and into the barbed-wire ropes!

C.P: HOLY SHIT!

Bonez struggles to get free, but the wire is clinging to his back and the flesh in his arm. Blood drizzles from the wounds, as Bonez struggles to free himself, but to no avail. Chris Van X makes his way over to Bonez, pushing the table over a few feet. He leans over and gives Bonez a shot to the jaw with his closed fist, then pulls him up. Chris grabs Bonez by the arm and rips him away from the barbed-wire that seems to be clinging directly into the flesh of his arm. Pulling away quickly, the barbed-wire snaps back into place – showing how sturdily they had been set up. Bonez falls down to the canvas, placing one hand over his face to wipe the accumulation of blood away from his eyes. In that second, Chris Van X picks up the chain with both hands and throws it around the back of Bonez’ neck! Chris Van X tightens the chain, wrapping more of the length around, almost like a noose.

T.L: I have never seen anything like this before in my life!

Chris Van X pulls Bonez to his feet, Bonez is now gasping for air. Van X tugs on the chain, securing it around Bonez’ throat, depriving him of precious air. Chris Van X wraps the chain tightly around his arm, just before he wraps his arms around Curtis “Bonez” Schmitt’s stomach. Chris lets out a vicious roar, as he picks Bonez up into the air and dashes several feet across the ring toward the table. Bonez struggles to push his body back toward the ground, but to no avail – Chris Van X sends Bonez crashing down through the table! The table shatters into hundreds of pieces with a thud of Bonez’ cranium across the canvas. Chris Van X’s arm is tugged downward, forcing him to his knees. He wipes the accumulation of sweat from his brow and some of the blood from his arm, which had been wrapped in the barbed-wire outfitted chain. Chris Van X leans over Bonez, laying in the scraps of wood that were once fitted together as a table. Chris drops his chest over Bonez’ and swipes his leg up for the cover, ONE…..TWO…….THREE!

C.P: Wait a fuckin’ minute here, that’s not fuckin’ fair! Bonez should get the win!

T.L: For being pinned cleanly inside the ring, I think not!

C.P: That’s bullshit! You know that?!

T.L: Enough about that, we have one heck of a main event for you, folks!

C.P: Maddog is going to tear that bitch ass, Black Rain, apart! I can’t fucking wait!

T.L: The stipulations ride strong, as Black Rain will try to defeat our President in a no interference match against…someone that has yet to be announced!

C.P: If Maddog wins, Black Rain will have to take off the fucking ridiculous fucking mask, once and for fucking all!

T.L: I happen to like that mask…

C.P: Hah…you would…

T.L: What’s that supposed to mean? Cody? Cody? Don’t ignore me! Cody!

Black Rain is first down to the ring, the fans showing their acceptance to him with a great applause and a thunderous chant of his name. He finally makes it into the ring, turning toward the entrance, as “The Empire Strikes First” by Bad Religion starts to play over the house speakers of Viking Hall. A roaring “boo” invites President Maddog, as he steps through the curtain with his taped fists raised high into the air. ”That’s right, mother fuckers. I’m here to destroy each and every one your fucking heroes!”, Maddog yells to the hissing crowd. His shirt is torn at the sleeves, exposing the many tattoos that cover his arms and a pair of black cut-off jean shorts. Slowly, Maddog makes his way down the entrance ramp toward the ring, where fans start throwing various articles of garbage at him. He turns to the front row, spouting off at the mouth. ”FUCK YOU!”, the vulgarity echoes through the crowd, showing that Maddog could give a fuck less about what each and every one of them thinks at the moment. He steps onto the ring steps, making his way into the ring after a few minutes of provoking the fans.

T.L: Maddog looks ready to fight!

C.P: Looks ready? Maddog is always fuckin’ ready to fight! He may be the president of this company, but he knows how to throw down. Take a look back at BWCW, he fucking terrorized that fucking place for years!

Maddog slaps his hands together, interlocking his fingers to crack his knuckles. The bell sounds in the background, as Maddog turns to the referee with a smirk on his face. Black Rain slowly backs up and starts to circle, which forces Maddog to circle as well. Maddog reaches out one hand, inviting a Greco-roman knuckle-lock. Each of his fingers move in a different sequence, as he warms his hand up for the possible lock-up. Black Rain steps forward and slaps Maddog’s hand away, then moves in and grabs Maddog by the collarbone and the elbow. Maddog puts both hands in the same position of Black Rain, but quickly reaches up with his right arm with an under-hook of Black Rain’s arm. Maddog leans his chest into the big man and reaches his right hand up and pulls Black Rain’s mask back with his arm. The referee steps in and tries to stop Maddog from grabbing at the eyehole, which Maddog does. He raises his hands and takes a step back from Black Rain, with a smile growing on his face. Maddog waves his hands at Black Rain in a motion to “bring it on”, quickly Black Rain moves right on in and hits Maddog with a side thrusted knee to the midsection. Maddog stumbles back toward the ropes, but Black Rain comes in again. He grabs Maddog by the arm and whips him into the far ropes. Maddog comes off the far ropes and dives forward with both legs out - hitting a dropkick to Black Rain’s kneecap, which brings Black Rain down to his knees. Maddog moves in quickly, moving around to Black Rain’s backside. Maddog sticks two of his fingers on his left hand into the eyehole of Black Rain’s mask, holding the rest of the mask with his other hand – just as he begins to pull on the eyehole. Black Rain reaches both of his hands back and starts getting back up to his feet. Black Rain gets a good grip around Maddog’s head, thus falling back down into a seated position. As Black Rain drops back down, he drops Maddog’s jaw across the top of his head!

T.L: A jawbreaker by Black Rain! He has stunned Maddog from his attempts to rip that mask from over his face!

C.P: C’mon, dog, kill this mother fucker!

Maddog drops flat against his back across the mat, grabbing onto his jaw with both hands. Black Rain leans over Maddog and pulls him back up to his feet, following up with a forearm to the side of the head. Black Rain grabs Maddog by the arm and sends him into the ropes for the second time in this match. This time around, Black Rain manages to catch Maddog off the ropes and he drops him to the canvas with a heavy power-slam. Black Rain stays down with his chest over Maddog’s, while he reaches over to hook the leg. ONE……….TWO…….KICK OUT! Black Rain grabs a handful of Maddog’s dreadlocks to lift his head off the mat, only to bash him across the middle of his face with a few right closed fists. Black Rain proceeds in bringing Maddog to his feet, picking him up with a scoop and a slam. The mat rattles from the body-slam, inviting Black Rain to drop a quick elbow across Maddog’s chest. Black Rain is back on his feet for only a few seconds, dropping a second elbow across Maddog’s sternum. This time Black Rain goes for a cover, ONE…….TWO…… Maddog’s shoulder comes off the canvas, just before the referee can count the three. Black Rain pulls Maddog to his feet, dragging him across the ring and finally throwing him back first against the turnbuckle. Black Rain backs up enough to gain a bit of a running start, but when he gets close enough – Maddog lifts his body up by holding onto the ropes and plants the bottoms of his boots across Black Rain’s jaw. Black Rain staggers back and falls to the side, landing on his stomach. Maddog comes out of the buckle with fury, immediately sending a stomp to Black Rain’s ribs. Black Rain huddles up, but Maddog won’t allow him to catch any more breath. He pulls him up to his feet, where he continues to throw punches at Black Rain. He backs him into the ropes, then turns around and runs off the far set of ropes. Maddog hits Black Rain with full force, knocking him over the top rope with a Cactus-Jack style closeline! The two tumble to the outside, laying across the ringside floor for several seconds.

T.L: These two men are bringing the fight to each other, here tonight! Maddog is holding his own in this match-up. He’s determined to take the mask of Black Rain!

C.P: That’s fuckin’ right, Lockton!

Maddog gets to his hands and knees, slowly getting up to his feet. He takes a step forward and runs directly into the chest of Black Rain! Black Rain reaches back with his arm and blasts Maddog with a razor’s edge chop across the chest, which he follows up by grabbing onto Maddog’s wrist. Black Rain takes a step back and whips Maddog toward the heavy steel ring post! Maddog rushes in and connects shoulder first with the post, falling to the left into the guardrail. Maddog leans against the rail, but Black Rain moves in to continue his attack on Maddog. Rights and lefts connect with Maddog’s head, bringing him into a somewhat dazed state, while Black Rain remains in control of the bout. Black Rain grabs Maddog by the hair and pulls him away from the rail, hooking him from behind in a full nelson. Black Rain tries to lift Maddog up, but Maddog swings his right leg forward and back with a mule kick to Black Rain’s family jewels! Black Rain releases his grip around Maddog’s neck, backing up with his hands covering his injured area. Maddog briskly turns around and throws two closed lefts at Black Rain! Black Rain staggers back, giving Maddog a chance to acquire a steel chair! Inside the ring, the referee looks on, refusing to count the two out – possibly a stipulation that President Maddog neglected to inform the rest of the crew of.

C.P: There we go, that’s the hardcore mother fucker we all know! C’mon, Maddog!

Maddog folds the chair up and sends it into Black Rain’s stomach like a sword, doubling him over once again. The chair goes up and immediately comes crashing back down across Black Rain’s shoulders! Black Rain still remains standing after the blows, so Maddog swings the chair up again. THUD! The chair cracks fully across Black Rain’s shoulder blades, dropping him to the floor in a quick second. Black Rain peers upward, with his eyes darting up at Maddog through the eyeholes of the mask. Maddog spits down at him, extending a middle finger directly in Black Rain’s face, just before he winds the chair back up. ”Fuck you, mother fucker!”, Maddog bellows as he swings the chair down across Black Rain’s skull, THUD! Maddog brings the chair over to the apron, sliding it under the bottom rope and into the ring. Black Rain is now starting to get up, so Maddog grabs him by the head and sends a stiff elbow shot to the side of the head. Maddog grabs the mask and the back of Black Rain’s wrestling attire, leading him toward the apron and finally throwing him back into the ring. Maddog slides under the bottom rope, grabbing the mask again to lead Black Rain back up. Maddog slings Black Rain into the turnbuckle and charges at him with full force, only to be hit with a diving shoulder to the midsection. Black Rain stands back up and grabs Maddog by the wrist, sending him chest first into the turnbuckle. Maddog lands against the turnbuckle, letting out a huge gasp of air upon impact. From behind, Black Rain moves in and hooks Maddog around the waist with his head under Maddog’s arm. Maddog tries to jump onto the middle rope and push himself off to get away from Black Rain, but Rain drops back and folds Maddog into a bridged belly-to-back suplex! ONE…….TWO….. Maddog’s shoulder thrusts off the canvas with quick timing, showing that he’s not done fighting yet. Black Rain rolls Maddog free, letting him get back up on his own will. Maddog tries to throw a right hook at Black Rain, but Rain blocks it with his forearm. Maddog swings his left arm back and throws another blow, BLOCKED! Black Rain fires off a kick to the stomach, hooking Maddog around the waist. Maddog is lifted up, but he forces his weight back down to block an attempt at any move that Black Rain had been making his way toward. Maddog reaches his arms around Black Rain’s legs and he lifts up with all of his might with a yell, flipping Black Rain over with a back drop! Maddog holds his back in agony, as he staggers toward the ropes, leaning over to pick up the steel chair. Maddog staggers toward Black Rain, as he starts to get up. Black Rain turns around to meet a swift chairshot from President Maddog! WHAM! Black Rain hits the canvas with authority! To the fans surprise, the bell sounds loudly, calling the end to the bout.

Maddog laughs, as he tosses the chair to the mat while rummaging his left hand into the pocket of his cut-off shorts. Pulling out a yellow object, which we now notice to be a box-cutter! Maddog staggers to the ropes, leaning his head through the ropes to call for a microphone. The announcer quickly obliges, gently putting the microphone into Maddog’s palm. Maddog leans back through the ropes and circles around Black Rain, who is still laying on the canvas.

Maddog: Well, I thought I’d make this match fair for you. I said I was in a giving mood tonight, I gave you what you wanted, Black Rain. I handed over to you, exactly what you wished for. A win…and an answer to your challenge…but that doesn’t help when you’re laying flat on your face, does it? I vowed to my brethren in the Apocalypse of Wrestling that I would take your mask tonight, no matter what the cost.

Maddog leans over Black Rain pulling him up onto a sitting position. He flips the microphone across the canvas, dropping his elbow across Black Rain’s brow with force enough to knock the man clean out. Black Rain shudders a bit, but holds his hands up to try and pry Maddog away from his mask. Maddog grabs the mask with both hands, forcing Black Rain’s head down to the canvas with a thud. Maddog picks the microphone back up, holding the box-cutter in his free hand.

Maddog: Clarkson and Denison may not be here in the flesh to see this, but I’m going to do what I said I was going to do since day fucking one! You may have the win under your belt, but you’re going to walk away without that fucking mask, you sorry son of a bitch! It may not matter to me that you crossed Curtis “Bonez” Schmitt’s path and possibly cost him a victory tonight…but it does matter that you doubted for one second that I was going to let you walk all over me and keep that mask over your fucking face.

T.L: Where are Clarkson and Denison anyway?

C.P: Fuckin’, vacation, I guess. Why the fuck do you care?

Black Rain starts to sit up, but Maddog blasts him with a kick to the head.

Maddog: Where’s G-Man? Is he going to come down and save you? I made good and damn sure that nobody was going to come out here to save your sorry ass. Look up at the monitor, if you don’t believe me.

The camera pans over to the monitor, showing G-Man struggle to get passed the heavy security that stands in front of the curtain in the backstage area. The camera comes back to Maddog, laying a stomp across Black Rain’s chest.

Maddog: Enough talk already, I’m getting straight to the fucking business!

Maddog viciously throws the microphone onto the canvas, leaning over to pull Black Rain into a sitting position. Using the box-cutter as a fist-pack, he throttles Black Rain several times in the forehead to subdue him even further. Maddog grips the box cutter in his hand while using his thumb to bring the blade out from the inside of the handle, running it along the back of the mask. The razor cuts clear through the material of the mask, making it easy for Maddog to tear the back of the mask fully open. Black Rain tries to hold on to the mask, but Maddog continues tearing away at it! Maddog lifts his left arm and brings it down across the top of Black Rain’s skull, dazing him even further due to the chairshots administered beforehand. Maddog grabs onto the mask with both hands and cleanly tears it away from Black Rain’s face, to incite a gasp from the fans. Cameras around the arena flash, as Black Rain is about to turn to the camera….

T.L: Black Rain is…

C.P: Fuck, we’re out of…