[4CW] Winter Wasteland 2016 – 1/27/16

 

WINTER WASTELAND JANUARY 27TH, 2016
STAPLES CENTER LOS ANGELES, CA

 

 

PRE-SHOW
OVER THE TOP ROPE ELIMINATION RUMBLE
ERICA UMBRA VS. LINCOLN CUTLER VS. BRADLEY STEVENS VS.
JOSEPH SULLIVAN VS. DUFF BRIGGS VS. DICK VS. LUKE JONES

 

Coming to the ring first, Erica Umbra makes her 4CW debut, starting the match with Lincoln Cutler, Bradley Stevens, and Joseph Sullivan. On a mission, Erica took control of the match from the sound of the bell. With Cutler and Sullivan going at it, she turned her sights onto Stevens, breaking him down in every way possible. After a sit-out facebuster, Erica grew tired of Stevens as she then took it upon herself to tangle him up in the ropes and then hit him with a dropkick to the mouth, sending him over the top rope and down to the floor. By that time, Duff Briggs had made his way down to the ring. Catching her from behind, Briggs went for a German suplex but came up short as she rolled out while in mid-air and came down on her feet as she hit the mat hard. After putting on a show with kicks and stomps, Erica then showed off her acrobatic skills with a backflip turned into a legdrop. Shortly after, Briggs met his fate. Dragging him to the ropes, Erica pressed her back against them while lifting him up into the air and tossing him over the top with a vertical suplex. After smacking the apron with a thud, Briggs then rolled to the floor being eliminated.

With Dick making his way down to the ring, Erica turned her attention to Cutler and Sullivan still going at it on the other side of the ring. With their backs turned to her, she quickly raced in behind them, leaped into the air and took them both down with a double bulldog. With Dick still coming down the ramp and the two face-first on the mat, Erica rolled underneath the bottom rope and dropped down to the floor. Being an over the top rope elimination, this was legal as she was not eliminated. Erica then began digging underneath the ring, pulling out a shovel. Earlier in the day, Perry Wallace had announced that any and everything was legal in this match, including outside weapons. On the inside of the ring, Dick began stomping on Sullivan and Cutler. Aware of Erica on the outside, Dick didn’t think anything of it as he thought he was now eliminated. Rolling back into the ring, Erica stood tall with the shovel in hand as Dick backed away from the two bodies and began pleading his case with the nearby official. Angry with the officials call, Dick then charged towards Erica only to take the metal side to the side of the face as she swung it like a baseball bat. Stumbling across the ring, Dick hit the ropes but before he could bounce off, Erica was right then with the shovel in both hands, jabbing him in the face with it and sending him over the top rope, down to the floor.

Sliding into the ring, Luke Jones entered the match without Erica even knowing he was there. With her attention set on Cutler and Sullivan slowly getting to their feet, Luke decided to sit back and watch, letting her do all the work like any fuckboy would do. The crowd then erupted as Bronx Valescence stormed out from the curtain and down the aisle. Hopping onto the apron, Bronx slapped Luke across the back of the head, grabbing his attention. Turning around to see who that was, knowing he was the last person to enter the match, Luke was taken by surprise at the sight of Bronx standing face to face with him. Grabbing ahold of Luke, Bronx pulled him in while jabbing his knee through the ropes, planting it into Luke’s stomach. Bronx then hooked his arm around Luke’s head and grabbed the back of his tights firmly. Lifting Luke into the air, Bronx pulled him over the top rope and dropped him to the floor with a vertical suplex. Rolling down from the apron, Bronx then walks to the crowd and grabbed a few drinks from the fans. He then began pouring the liquid onto Luke before throwing the cups down at him and leaving the scene.

Inside of the ring, Erica waited patiently with the shovel in hand as Cutler and Sullivan slowly climbed to their feet. Once standing, the two slowly turned around only to see her standing feet away. Charging towards her at the same time, they both took a swing for her head but Erica ducked down and hit them both in the stomachs with the shovel, flipping them over to their backs. Tossing the shovel aside, Erica then grabbed Cutler by the head and rolled him up to his feet. Dragging him to the edge of the ring, she then threw him into the ropes stomach first, forcing him to flip over the top and crash to the floor. With Sullivan still down on his back, Erica picked up the shovel and placed the handle on his crotch. Jumping into the air, she landed on the shovel with a double foot stomp, smashing his family jewels. She then pulled the shovel back, removing it from his body but leaving it lying on the mat. Grabbing Sullivan by the arm, she then pulled him up to his feet with the shovel positioned perfectly between his legs. Jumping backwards, Erica landed on the metal end and just like that, the broom stood straight up and the handle collided with his crotch. Lunging over in serious pain, Sullivan held himself  and before he could fall down to the mat, Erica walked him over to the edge of the ring by holding his ear. She then gave him a kiss goodbye, and by kiss I mean a vicious elbow strike to the face. Falling backwards, Sullivan hit the ropes and in a flash, Erica jumped up and sent him over the top with a dropkick to the chest.

 

WINNER: ERICA UMBRA

 

 

After the match, Erica Umbra walks over to one side of the ring requesting a mic.  She receives the mic and returns to the center of the ring with her shovel in hand as the crowd starts cheering for the Gravedigger.

VASSA: “She’s only had once match in 4CW and she already has something to say?”

JOHNSON: “After her performance tonight, why not?”

Erica motions for the crowd to quiet down a bit and raises the mic to her lips.

UMBRA: “Tonight, everyone here saw what I was able to accomplish and yet, this still was not the full potential of what I am capable of doing in the ring.  Six came, six fell, and six were buried by the Gravedigger, yours truly.”

The crowd tries to stir again with cheers, but stops as Erica resumes talking while slowly and slightly pacing in the ring.

UMBRA: “If this is just the match for the pre-show and you guys are already riled up, I can only imagine how this L.A. crowd will act throughout the remainder of the show.  It’s not just a Los Angeles thing, it’s a Cali thing because, guys, I’m just as crazy as the rest of ya!”

VASSA: “I thought she had something important to say, but it looks like she’s just out there to fluff the fans.”

JOHNSON: “Are you seriously going to insult this woman who just admitted to being crazy?”

The crowd starts chanting Erica Umbra’s name as she lowers the mic and smiles while taking a moment to acknowledge their admiration.  She then pulls the mic back up again.

UMBRA: “There is a scripture that is often read at funerals that states ‘though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil.’  Comforting words for those who’ve passed on like the ones I defeated here tonight.  Those who have passed on walk that valley because they HAVE to.  Me?  I do it because I WANT to, because I LOVE to.  Over and over, time and time, day in, day out.  You know what else?  Not only do I walk into that particular valley, but I walk directly into the Valley of Death, not just his shadow, and I fucking live there now.  It’s about four and a half hours from here and you all can come join me there if you’d like.”

Erica looks around the arena seemingly hopeful for someone to step forward to walk with her.

UMBRA: “On second thought, that may not be such a great idea as you wouldn’t be able to come back afterwards.  I’m not here to talk about home, I’m here to talk about my future in this organization which looks bright to me.  Management, you’ve signed a wonderfully talented, fierce, and deadly competitor in me so kudos to you for that.”

VASSA: “That’s left up for debate.”

JOHNSON: “She will have to earn opportunities and prove herself just like the rest of the roster, but should do well if she is how she claims to be.”

UMBRA: “Lastly, and this goes out to the men and women who compete here in 4 Corners Wrestling…  To get into this ring and dance with me is to get into this ring and dance with Death.  Just like these men tonight, I will put my competition out of their misery and lay their careers to rest.  Some call this ring their yard, others call it their house.  I like to call it my sandbox because there are so many different toys hidden in and around it and I love to play here.  4CW talent, why don’t you step in my sandbox and make a play date with me sometime?  I won’t be hard to find…  I’ll be the one with the shovel!”

Erica holds her shovel in the air over her head while finishing.  She drops the mic and exits the ring as her music plays her off.

 

 

Backstage there was a different scene as the cameras cut on in the locker room of XTV Champion, Jason Cashe. He is geared up, ready for his brutal match against Bronx which is only moments away but he doesn’t seem to happy, in fact he seems quite gloomy. Fate Champion, Niobe Martin approaches him as he sits hunched over in a folding chair.

MARTIN: “What the hell? You’re match is next, what are you doing just sitting here?”

CASHE: “He called me stupid..Said I was toothless, said I was a Redneck too!”

Niobe looks confused. This wasn’t the first time any of those things had been said to Cashe or about him behind his back.

MARTIN: “So?”

Darting a stare up at his girlfriend, Cashe looks shocked like she should be bothered by it too but she still hadn’t the slightest idea why he would care.

MARTIN: “Who HASN’T said those things to you? For someone who said you are run of the mill, he sure brought out the cheap tricks, the common response when someone doesn’t know anything more to say about you. He’s looked at you like a book cover and didn’t bother seeing the content inside. Why is it bothering you?”

Pushing to his feet, Cashe groggily grabs his XTV Championship from the bench nearby. He flings it up onto his shoulder, holding it in place as he turns back to Niobe. This time he has a smile on his face.

MARTIN: “It’s really not! Haha! Sorry I had to fuck with you some before I go out there and one of us possibly might not come out of it the same.”

She swings a short arm and wallops him in the shoulder with a stiff punch. He laughs out loud and adjusts his Title.

CASHE: “Like you said, he showed he was beginning to reach for whatever branches he could as he fell from the tree of confidence! Your stupid, you have missing teeth! He’s ashamed of losing to me!? Ha! That’s fantastic because he’s not the first to suffer a loss or two and HATE the fact it came from me but that’s his reality. I Hate that my dick isn’t 12 inches long and wide but guess what? I make due with what I have and what I have is simply…BETTER than him.”

MARTIN: “That’s right! 2 Time Wrestler of The Year, 2 Time Feud Of The Year in which BOTH were won by you in the end. You’ve lost teeth to at the top, a fucking NIPPLE! Bronx is jealous and sitting in his sweat pants proved that!”

CASHE: “He isn’t completely wrong either though…I am a stupid sum bitch! That just means he should smarten up and know when to quit because I don’t and that’s dangerous for him…”

Grabbing him, Niobe Martin pulls the XTV Champion in closely and plants a long and hard kiss on his lips. His eyebrows lift up surprised but as they relax, he enjoys the warmth of her, her smell. Almost wanting to have a quickie, he pulls away knowing he must head to the ring.

MARTIN: “Knock em dead!”

CASHE: “I might just go a head and try to kill him…that or kill his career…See you in a bit huh?”

Leaving the locker room, Jason Cashe is confidence and prepared for what lies ahead as he makes his way to ringside for his Title defense.

 

 

The scene opens with an overhead shot of inside the Staples Center in Los Angeles, California. The lower sections are packed but towards the back, there are still quite a few empty seats clearly seen. This is the largest venue 4CW has booked to date so a sold out show was never on the table. Changing views to the top of the entrance ramp, the camera zooms in on the large Winter Wasteland banner hanging above the entrance curtain. Slowly rotating, the view then changes to a shot straight down the ramp with the ring in center focus at the bottom. The camera then begins to slowly make its way down the ramp as the fans on each side scream and wave, trying to get noticed to all those watching at home. In the mix, a few signs stick out more than the others and the camera zooms in on them, bringing them into center focus one after the other.

JETT WILDER
FOR 4CW
C H A M P I O N

YEAR OF THE
ALPHA BITCH

THE BLACK DAHLIAS
ARE DEAD AGAIN

Once at ringside, the camera works its way around the ring until the announcers booth comes into picture with Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa waiting patiently to start the evening. Behind them, a few fans hold up a banner, grabbing the attention of the operator.

UNSTABLE LEAVES WITH ALL OF
THE GOLD ON THE LINE TONIGHT

Lowering the picture, Johnson and Vassa then come in to view. Johnson takes a drink from his glass of water as Vassa ashes his cigar on the floor beside him. After placing his glass on the table, Johnson then takes lead as we officially kick off the evening.

JOHNSON: “Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to Winter Wasteland! I’m your host, Steve Johnson and the man beside you all know and have grown to enjoy, Vinny Vassa.”

VASSA: “Thank you for the introduction Steve and hello to all of you sitting at home tuned in to us tonight. We have a killer line up for the evening and I for one cannot wait any longer.”

JOHNSON: “Me either, Vinny! We do have a jam packed card scheduled for the night and before we jump into our opening match, give us a few moments of your time to run down the line up.”

VASSA: “A few moments? Have we ever only taken a few moments?”

JOHNSON: “I don’t recall but we’re going to attempt to do so tonight.”

VASSA: “Wish us luck ladies and gentlemen, we’re sure as hell going to need it. So what’s first in the mix? Who do we have opening this big event?”

JOHNSON: “Opening the night we have Bronx Valescence challenging Jason Cashe for the 4CW XTV Championship.”

VASSA: “Some good Extreme Television action! I like it. This match has a crazy stipulation to it as well, doesn’t it?”

JOHNSON: “This will be a 4CW first in what is called Winter’s Hell. It’s an odd match but I can’t think of two people that it fits more.”

VASSA: “I’ve actually been reading up on this in the memo that Jack Vaughn sent out. Correct me if I’m wrong but there’s going to be a wall constructed of chains standing tall on one side of the ring?”

JOHNSON: “Correct…”

VASSA: “And from this wall there will be chains attached to it and various spots within the ring.”

JOHNSON: “You are correct.”

VASSA: “So now that the odd part is out of the way, let me get this right. There will be weapons hanging from the chairs attached to the ring?”

JOHNSON: “Yes and from what I’ve heard, there will be weapons hanging from the chain wall as well. I have not seen this set up. We have a separate ring to hold this match and right now it’s covered from all sides with a black curtain.”

VASSA: “That’s some top secret shit! Why haven’t we peaked yet?”

JOHNSON: “Because you haven’t stopped talking since we sat here at the booth.”

VASSA: “Good point, good point there Steve. Now tell me a little more about this match. What exactly is the object here?”

JOHNSON: “If we’re being honest, the whole chain wall and chains attached to the ring is pointless. They have no play in the outcome of this match. They’re there more so for theatrics.”

VASSA: “I can only imagine how stoned Wallace was when he put this thing together in his head.”

JOHNSON: “If anything, this is more of a table match.”

VASSA: “How so?”

JOHNSON: “Well beside the ring there are two tables stacked on top of each other with flat screen televisions secured to the tops.”

VASSA: “Extreme… Television! I get it.”

JOHNSON: “So the two tables are stacked beside the ring, between it and a scaffold standing tall.”

VASSA: “Are you kidding me? A goddamn scaffold?”

JOHNSON: “You heard right. So the object here is to throw the opponent off of the scaffold and through the two tables with televisions attached to their tops.”

VASSA: “So that’s it? All one has to do is throw the other off the scaffold and through the two tables?”

JOHNSON: “Ding, ding, we have a winner.”

VASSA: “So what the hell is the point of the chain wall and shit? If the object is to throw the opponent off of the scaffold and through two tables then why have a chain wall?”

JOHNSON: “I think it’s more for visuals but then again, there will be weapons galore hanging from the chains. So this thing is bound to get messy.”

WALLACE: “Okay, this is stupid. Wallace, if you hear me, this is the dumbest match that you have ever booked. Just admit that Unstable has defeated you and driven you insane because this match makes no sense at all. I can’t even… next match, Steve!”

Johnson then grabs his glass of water and takes a drink. Beside him, Vinny takes a pull from his cigar before looking up and blowing the smoke directly above his head.

JOHNSON: “I don’t believe you’re supposed to be smoking in here, Vinny.”

VASSA: “Ask me if I give a fuck. Go on, ask me?”

JOHNSON: “Do you give a flip?”

VASSA: “Hell no, now get on with the card. We’ve already wasted enough time.”

JOHNSON: “I’m just going to zip right on through these next matches before we’re forced to cut things short.”

VASSA: “Sounds like your sex life.”

JOHNSON: “So the Fate roster will be joining us tonight.”

VASSA: “And lucky for us, we won’t be calling the matches. I’ll be loading up on the catering in the back. Thanks Jack!”

JOHNSON: “So with Fate we have four random matches known as the Wasteland Wildcard. We will not know who is facing who until Mike Powers calls their names. So directly following the opening match we have Wasteland Wildcard number one! Then we have a match with Kat Jones coming back after a short break as she will be stepping into the ring with a newer talent, Victor Cassius.”

VASSA: “Following that, we have another Wildcard match and then we have Memphis Cunningham stepping into the ring with the sexy, Rorie Steele!”

JOHNSON: “Calm down, Vinny! Then we have another Wasteland Wildcard match followed by an extreme rules match between Darryl Wallace and Magnus Brutus. After that, we will then jump into the final Wasteland Wildcard match of the evening.”

VASSA: “So four Wasteland Wildcard matches, not bad. I’m really excited about the match that follows the final Wildcard. Bryan Laughlin and Jair Hopkins will be squaring off in a match that could very well steal the show.”

JOHNSON: “It truly coult but it’s going to be tough considering the rest of the line up we have for the evening. After that, Seamus O’Connor will be returning to a 4CW ring after being sidelined with an injury. We have a grudge match folks! Seamus will get a chance for revenge as he will step into the ring with the man who put him on the sidelines, Drew Stevenson!”

VASSA: “This is going to be one hell of a fight and I don’t know who to place my bet on. Sure, Drew put Seamus down and out but I can promise you that Seamus will be looking for revenge here tonight in his return.”

JOHNSON: “After that, we have one final Fate match as Niobe Martin will be defending the Fate Championship against Rob Hewitt.”

VASSA: “Un-stable…”

Taking another drink from his glass of water, Johnson then looks down at his stack of papers and looks over them. Vinny takes another pull from his cigar while reaching underneath the booth and pulling out a cheap bottle of whiskey. After pouring himself a drink, Vassa throws it back and wipes the excess away from the corner of his mouth.

JOHNSON: “That’s our undercard for the evening. In our headline, we have a tag team match for the Tag Team Championships. The Distinguished Archetypes, CJ O’Donnell and Cyrus Riddle will be taking on Art of War, the defending champions, Bryan Williams and Aidan Carlisle.”

VASSA: “We’ve seen these teams compete for the championships once before but this time there won’t be a third team involved. And it’s a tornado tag match nonetheless.”

JOHNSON: “It’s going to be a throw down in the ring with the tag gold on the line. I can’t wait!”

VASSA: “To close the night, we have our main event which will feature the Pride Championship.”

JOHNSON: “With Dakota Smith, the 4CW Champion missing, Winter Wasteland will showcase the Pride Championship.”

VASSA: “Jett Wilder has really proved a lot of people wrong and turned some heads wince stepping back in 4CW. He’s now our Pride Champion. Tonight will be his first defense and damnit boy, it isn’t going to be an easy one.”

JOHNSON: “He’ll be stepping into the ring with a man who has proven to be a machine since signing with 4CW. Chris Madison has been undefeated up to this point with nine singles wins and zero losses. He also scored a tag team win three weeks ago at Adrenaline with Jason Cashe in his corner.”

VASSA: “He’s pushing for the record that The Red Pioneer set a while back. He’s been a joy to watch in action inside of the ring. He’s programmed to destroy whatever stands in front of him and so far, he hasn’t had a slip up yet.”

JOHNSON: “This match between Chris and Jett will be a two out of three falls match. One pin or submission won’t seal the deal. Whoever wins it is going to need two.”

VASSA: “I just hope that Jett is prepared for this because Madison could really hurt him in the ring if he isn’t careful.”

JOHNSON: “Well let’s just hope for the best. And that’s it folks. That’s our lineup for the night. We’re going to dive right into the action with our opening match. Thank you for putting up with us. Let’s get on with the show!”

 

OPENING MATCH
XTV CHAMPIONSHIP
WINTER’S HELL
BRONX VALESCENCE VS. JASON CASHE ©

VASSA: “Alright, let’s get down to business with our opening match!”

JOHNSON: “We’re kicking things off big here tonight with an XTC Championship bout that is going to tear the house down!”

VASSA: “It’s an odd match but I’m sure it will be interesting to watch. I just hope no one dies from the chaos.”

JOHNSON: “You and me both!”

The curtain concealing the second ring set up for the Winter’s Hell match slowly raises, revealing the madness within. “What You Know About That” by TI hits over the house system as smoke fills the top of the entrance ramp.

POWERS: “The following contest will be for the 4CW Extreme Television Championship!”

Bronx with his head down walks out to the top of the ramp to stand in the smoke for a moment before he pulls his hands up slowly pointing two finger guns at the ring. He pulls the trigger before he twirls the said “guns” and places them back into his “holsters” on either side before he starts his business like walk to the ring.

POWERS: “Introducing to the ring first, from Eastport, Maine, weighing in at two hundred five pounds and standing six feet tall, BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”

He slides with one knee up on the apron, wipes his feet and then flips over the top rope into the ring. Bronx then walks over to the middle rope and stands on it, surveying the crowd through his sunglasses before he hops off and walks over to his corner where he then stands, looking at the chain link structure standing tall at ringside. Amazed by it, he scans it over from top to bottom before turning his head in shock at the sight of the scaffold.

VASSA: “I don’t think Bronx was expecting anything like this.”

JOHNSON: “I wasn’t expecting anything like this. None of us were.”

VASSA: “That chain wall is higher than I expected it to be, but DAMN! The scaffold is wwwaaayyyyyy taller than I had imagined.”

JOHNSON: “It really is. The two tables stacked beside it are standard sized tables. But there’s a good eight feet difference between the top table and the scaffold.”

VASSA: “I’m going to say at least ten feet. I feel sorry for whoever takes the fall and crashes through both of those tables and televisions before smacking that concrete floor underneath.”

JOHNSON: “Not only that but there are all sorts of weapons hanging from those chains. More than I expected.”

VASSA: “Well we have the norm… chairs, kendo sticks, a trash can, barbed wire, so on and so on. But what sticks out to me is the cheese grater, the Xbox, and if I’m not mistaken, that’s a Guitar Hero guitar hanging in the far corner.”

JOHNSON: “I don’t know what Guitar Hero is but I do see the plastic guitar.”

VASSA: “It’s a video game Steve and I will fuck anyone up who wants to battle me with the axe.”

JOHNSON: “Okay? Anyways, there’s also a shovel, a metal gas can, light tubes, a bag of thumbtacks, a fire extinguisher, a ladder, and even a mirror.”

VASSA: “Wait , wait, wait… did you just say a gas can and fire extinguisher?”

JOHNSON: “Indeed I did.”

VASSA: “I can already tell that this is going to be awesome! Where are my marshmallows?!”

JOHNSON: “Oh I almost forgot! There’s even some handcuffs and a staple gun.”

VASSA: “GOD DAMN SON!!!”

JOHNSON: “I hope Bronx is ready because the XTC Champion is on his way!”

The arena goes into a brief silence before Jason Cashe comes out from the back with the XTV Championship around his waist and a smile on his face as he hears the place give him either jeers and cheers. Depending on the opponent more one than the other but he takes it all in, deeply inhaling the air with his head tilted back and his eyes closed at the edge of where the stage meets the entrance ramp.

POWERS: “And the champion, coming to the ring from Houston Texas, weighing in at two hundred thirty pounds and standing six feet tall! He is the 4CW Extreme Television Champion, “The Troubled One”, JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”

Patting the championship around his waist, he takes two quick puffs from an “Air Joint”, Cashe rips the belt off and throws his arms up above his head holding his championship high. He shows it to those watching at home before slapping the camera away. He begins to head to the ring. A few fans holding out their own titles, Cashe “high fives” his belt to theirs as he makes his way down to ringside. He rounds the corner of the ring and jogs the steel stairs, getting up on the ring apron.

Dipping through the middle ropes, he enters the ring. Walking to the opposite side, he raises the XTV Championship, leaning against the ropes, he roars out, getting hyped up over the upcoming match.

CASHE: “RRRRAAAAHHH LIGHT THAT SHIT UP!!!”

Dropping down, he puts his back into a nearby corner and awaits the bell as a smile comes to his face as he looks up the chain wall and then glances over at the scaffold and two tables beneath it

JOHNSON: “Cashe looks pleased with this whole concept.”

VASSA: “I don’t think it’s the match concept that pleases him. He see’s the buffet of weapons and the potential of violence that can take place.”

JOHNSON: “Either way, he looks happy with this setup.”

VASSA: “I know he’s happy! That toothless grin gives it away every time!”

JOHNSON: “I hope the paramedics are on standby because they’re going to be in need once this thing is all said and done.”

VASSA: “Well we won’t be needing the fire department since we have a fire extinguisher handy.”

JOHNSON: “I can only wonder if the gas can actually has gas in it.”

VASSA: “Let’s hope it does because I just spotted a blow torch towards the bottom of the chain wall.”

JOHNSON: “A blow torch?”

VASSA: “You damn right!”

JOHNSON: “This is insane!”

VASSA: “It’s fucking beautiful…”

After grabbing the XTV Championship, the official stands in the center of the ring and holds it high above his head, turning to each side of the ring and showing it off to the crowd. He then walks to the ropes and hands it to a member of the ringside crew on the outside. Walking back to the center of the ring, the official then looks over to Bronx who points at him with his hand as a gun and then fires, giving the signal that he’s ready to go. Turning to Cashe, the official points to him. Standing in silence with no emotion on his face, Cashe stares past the ref and directly at Bronx. Cashe then roars as loud as he can before pounding his chest and calling for the bell. The official then raises his arm into the air and signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

At the sound of the bell, Cashe erupts from his corner and charges towards Bronx, pushing the official out of the way in the process. With Cashe slowed down with the official, Bronx then shoots out of his corner and runs for Cashe, leaping into the air towards him and tackling him to the ground. On top of Cashe, Bronx then begins swinging violently with lefts and rights, hitting Cashe from both sides with closed fists. Bronx then grabs ahold of Cashe’s head with both hands and slightly lifts it up from the canvas before lunging his head forward and hitting Cashe right between the eyes with a headbutt. With Cashe stunned, Bronx then lifts his head up again and lunges his forward, this time hitting Cashe with a headbutt to the bridge of his nose.

VASSA: “The beast has awakened inside of Bronx tonight!”

JOHNSON: “Cashe was slowed down with the official in the way and Bronx took advantage. The intensity in the ring right now is already at a high level and the match has only started.”

Bronx then slams Cashe’s head into the canvas before standing up and leaving him to bleed from his nose. Looking at the chains above the ring, Bronx spots the chair hanging nearby and quickly pulls it down. Holding it tightly with both hands, Bronx smacks the mat with it beside Cashe’s head, alerting him. He then raises it above his head and swings down for Cashe’s head but misses as Cashe rolls out of the way.

CCLLAANNKK!!!

Bronx then takes another swing for Cashe as he looks up but misses again as Cashe rolls out of the way, barely avoiding having his face smashed in.

CCLLAANNKK!!!

As soon as Cashe stops on his back, Bronx raises the chair over his head again but before he can even swing down with it, Cashe curls his legs and then extends them both, kicking Bronx in the stomach with both feet. Dropping the chair, Bronx stumbles backwards but maintains his footing. Cashe then grabs the chair with both hands and slings it at Bronx like a Frisbee, hitting him in the stomach with it. Bronx drops down to one knee out of breath, leaving Cashe to quickly get back to his feet. Cashe then charges towards Bronx and knocks him down to his back with a running left handed clothesline.

With Bronx down, Cashe then grabs the chair from the mat and takes a few steps backwards, leaving about five or six feet in between the two. He then waits for Bronx to push himself up to a seated position before stepping forward and leaping into the air. Placing the chair underneath his feet, Cashe then extends his legs and kicks it into Bronx’s head while in mid-air.

CCRRAACCKK!!!

VASSA: “OUCH!!!”

JOHNSON: “It was only a matter of time before the toys came into play and that didn’t take long at all!”

VASSA: “A dropkick looks painful as it is. Adding a chair to the mix directly to the head is just overkill.”

Rolling over to his stomach, Cashe pushes himself up and grabs the chair lying on the mat nearby. Holding it with one hand, he notices the large dent in the back rest and laughs. Walking over to Bronx, Cashe grabs a handful of hair with his free hand and lifts his head up from the mat, sitting him up. Cashe then presses the dented spot of the chair against Bronx’s face while taunting him, yelling at him, and showing him an up close picture of what his head did. With Cashe distracted and leaving himself open, Bronx then swings his hand around and punches Cashe below the belt, right in the marbles. Cashe’s face quickly turns red as he back steps with small steps, bent over and feeling the pain settle in his stomach. Bronx then rips the chair out of Cashe’s hand and then pops up to his feet. Spinning in a circle, Bronx swings the chair with momentum and connects to the side of Cashe’s face with it.

CCRRAACCKK!!!

JOHNSON: “Wake up call!”

VASSA: “That’s not even fair. First a shot to the nuts and then a chair to the face. Damn…”

Wobbling back and forth while holding his family jewels, Cashe then falls forward and crashes face-first to the mat. Bronx then throws the chair out of the ring and into the crowd before screaming at the top of his lungs. He then begins stomping on Cashe over and over, mainly on his legs with a few shots to the mid-section. Bronx then grabs Cashe by the beard and pulls him up to his feet. Grabbing Cashe’s nose, Bronx then squeezes it and twists while chopping him in the throat with his other hand. He then grabs a handful of Cashe’s hair on the back of his head and drags him across the ring towards the chain wall. Throwing Cashe forward, Bronx slams him face-first into the wall. He then grabs the back of Cashe’s head with both hands and presses it against the wall before dragging him to the right, towards the end.

Once at the end, Bronx pulls Cashe’s head back and goes to slam it forward into the turnbuckle but before he can, Cashe delivers an elbow to the chest, breaking his hold. Cashe then grabs Bronx’s head and slams him face-first into the turnbuckle. Bronx stumbles backwards, holding his face, blinded momentarily to his surroundings. Cashe then reaches above and grabs the trashcan and slams it over Bronx’s head, opening first. With his arms trapped by the can, Bronx begins stepping backwards, trying to get away from Cashe. Cashe then looks to his right where a kendo stick hangs and quickly grabs it. Gripping it tightly with both hands, Cashe then sneaks up on Bronx. Reaching his arm around the can, Cashe taps on it and Bronx immediately turns in that direction. Cashe then pulls back and takes a swing for the fences, shattering the kendo stick as it collides with the can.

CCCRRRAAA–DDOONNGG!!!

VASSA: “Take me out to the ballllllllllgame!”

JOHNSON: “That was a pretty decent swing from Cashe. He could always take up baseball after his wrestling days are over, maybe softball.”

VASSA: “I’m just glad he didn’t decide to bunt because no one wants to see that boring shit.”

Cashe then grabs the trashcan and lifts it up and off of Bronx before tossing it aside. Bronx then stumbles around the ring as if he were dizzy, holding his ears with both hands. Cashe then grabs him by the shoulder and spins him around but as he does, Bronx kicks his leg upward and plants his foot into Cashe’s crotch.

VASSA: “OH MY GOD ANOTHER NUT SHOT!!!”

Cashe then drops down to both knees while holding himself as his face glows bright red. Reaching into his pants, Bronx pulls out a small brown bag and then opens it up. Holding it upside down, he begins pouring the contents into his palm.

JOHNSON: “What do we have here?”

VASSA: “What the hell is that?”

JOHNSON: “Is that… hold up… is that sand?!”

VASSA: “I believe you’re right Steve!”

With a handful of sand, Bronx then walks over to Cashe and grabs the back of his head with his other hand. Bending over, Bronx then yells into Cashe’s face, “straight from Galveston bitch!” Bronx then slaps Cashe across the face with the handful of sand and proceeds to rub it into his eyes. Laughing hysterically, Bronx rubs his hand back and forth across Cashe’s eyes. He then pulls Cashe up to his feet and walks him to the side of the ring where the tables and scaffold stand. Throwing Cashe forward, Bronx sends him up and over the top rope. Falling down, Cashe smacks his head on the apron before crashing to the floor. Bronx then runs to the other side of the ring where his coat is and picks it up, Reaching inside of the inner pocket, he digs around for a moment.

VASSA: “That sand from Galveston is like Kryptonite to Cashe. He really hates that place.”

JOHNSON: “We’ve seen a lot of things here at ringside but bringing sand to match has to be a first.”

VASSA: “What the hell is he doing now?”

JOHNSON: “Oh boy! I think El Bizchoco is ready to play!”

With his arm raised in the air, Bronx holds the blue and white luchador mask in his hand while screaming.

BIZCHOCO: “AYEYEYEYYEEYEYYEYEYE!!!”

Bronx then puts the mask on and runs circles around the ring while continuing to scream. Meanwhile, Cashe begins to slowly climb to his feet on the outside of the ring, rubbing his eyes, still blinded. After making one final lap, Bronx pulls down the Guitar Hero guitar from the chain above his head and then races towards the ropes. Leaping into the air, Bronx dives over them and flies towards Cashe, colliding into him with a flying crossbody. The two crash to the floor and the guitar slides a few feet away.

JOHNSON: “We’ve finally made it out of the ring folks.”

VASSA: “About time! The tables are right beside them. The scaffold is right there. I want to see someone go through those tables and TV’s damnit!”

The two roll in opposite directions. Bronx pushes himself up but appears to favor his side from the impact of the crash. Across from him, Cashe rolls towards the guitar and stops with it just beneath his face. Bronx then limps towards Cashe and goes to a double axe handle but before he can swing downward, Cashe grabs the guitar and jabs it in Bronx’s stomach. Lunging over, Bronx holds his stomach as the air is forced from his lungs. Cashe then stands to his feet and takes a couple of steps back forward running towards Bronx. Holding the guitar on each end with both hands, Cashe slams it into the top of Bronx’s head, knocking him down to his back.

VASSA: “Damn, that’s one durable plastic guitar.”

Cashe then begins rubbing his eyes again as the sand starts to bother him. Bronx grabs ahold of the scaffold and pulls himself up but just as he stands, Cashe swings the guitar with one hand directly for his head.

CCRRUUNNCCHH!!!

Ducking at the last split second, Bronx avoids a headshot as the guitar smacks the scaffold and shatters, sending pieces of plastic flying through the air. Bronx then pops his head back up and swings forward, slapping Cashe across the mouth. Cashe’s head turns quickly to the side as the stinging sensation settles in his cheek. He then turns back to Bronx with a confused look on his face as no one is standing there. Cashe then looks up where Bronx is now climbing to the top of the scaffold.

JOHNSON: “To the top they go!”

Cashe then begins to climb the scaffold behind Bronx. Making it up to the top first, Bronx looks over the crowd and screams into the air once again.

BIZCHOCO: “AYEYEYEYYEEYEYYEYEYE!!!”

He then turns around where Cashe’s head pops up. Bronx then rushes over and drops down to one knee before grabbing him by the hair and laying into his face with hard rights. Grabbing Cashe’s hair with his other hand, Bronx then pulls Cashe up onto the top of the scaffold. Dragging him to the center, Bronx then lays into him with more rights, pounding the top of Cashe’s head like a piece of meat. Bronx then draws back for a power punch and as he comes down with it, Cashe quickly grabs ahold of his hand, stopping it before contact can be made. With Bronx’s hand held between both of his hands, Cashe then pulls it in and bites down on his knuckles. Bronx quickly jerks his hand back and then scoots backwards across the scaffold in a hurry.

Rolling over, Cashe pushes himself up as Bronx does as well. The two then stand in place, eyes locked on one another. Cashe then charges towards Bronx and throws a powerful right, connecting with the side of Bronx’s jaw. Bronx then fires back with a right of his own, crushing the side of Cashe’s head. The two then exchange punches, one after the other, beating each other senseless at the top of the scaffold. After taking a stinging punch to the chin, Cashe then fires back with a hook but comes up short as Bronx ducks underneath and counters with a blow to the ribs. Bronx then grabs Cashe by the back of the head and pants and throws him off the scaffold.

VASSA: “Oh shit Bronx has done it!”

JOHNSON: “Down goes Cashe!”

Hitting the television on top of the table back-first, the screen shatters as Cashe rolls off without breaking it and falls into the ring.

VASSA: “it didn’t break! Cashe didn’t go through the tables!”

JOHNSON: “Unbelievable!”

VASSA: “Bronx didn’t see that coming!”

Crawling away from the ropes, Cashe then begins pushing himself up, favoring his leg and ribs. After finally standing to his feet, he slowly turns around with his infamous toothless grin on his face and blood smeared across his nose. Looking down in disbelief, Bronx shakes his head before getting fired up and jumping up and down. He then jumps down from the top of the scaffold and lands on the television on top of the table before leaping again straight into the air.

JOHNSON: “Brace yourself Cashe!”

Flying through the air, Bronx grabs onto one of the chains above the ring and swings forward while curling his legs and bringing his knees to his chest. Closing in on Cashe, Bronx then kicks both legs out and plants both feet into Cashe’s chest, kicking him with full momentum and sending him flying across the ring. Bronx’s grip then slips and he falls straight to the mat, slamming hard onto his back.

VASSA: “Holy-fucking-shit!”

JOHNSON: “Wow! Although he just took a nasty fall right there, Bronx just showed the entire world the athleticism he possesses!”

VASSA: “That was some straight up acrobatic shit right there!”

Bronx rolls back and forth on his back, moaning from the pain settling in after the nasty fall. He then looks up at the fire extinguisher dangling above his head. Suddenly, the fire extinguisher falls straight towards his head. Bronx quickly rolls out of the way as it crashes beside him. He then looks over in relief before placing his forehead to the canvas.

On the other side of the ring, Cashe holds his chest, wheezing loudly and fighting for every breath. He then rolls over and pushes himself up to one knee before grabbing the ropes and pulling himself up the rest of the way. Limping away from the ropes, Cashe turns towards the chain wall with his sights set on the shiny red gas can attached to it. After dragging himself over to it, he reaches up and unhooks it. A frustrated look comes over his face as he holds the can up and shakes it back and forth. The camera then zooms in as he mouths off “this fucking thing is empty.”

Cashe then turns to Bronx who is still down and then limps his way towards him with the can in hand. Grabbing Bronx by the hair, Cashe pulls his head back and with the can in his other hand, Cashe swings forward with it, punching Bronx in the back of the head with it. Cashe then slams the can down on Bronx’s back over and over. He then holds it over Bronx and pretends to pour gas on him before tossing it aside. Acting like he has a joint in his hand, Cashe then takes a pretend puff before throwing it down onto Bronx and jumping back as if he burst into flames.

Playing along, Bronx then begins to rolls back and forth wildly, as if he were putting the flames out that would cover his body. Standing back watching, Cashe loses it and bursts into laughter. With Cashe off his guard, Bronx then grabs the fire extinguisher and rolls over to his back, Holding it in his hands, he then goes to remove the pin but before he can, Cashe steps forward and kicks the fire extinguisher into his face.

CCLLUUNNKK!!!

Reaching down, Cashe then rips the fire extinguisher out of Bronx’s hands and removes the pin himself. He then steps and stands over Bronx. Pointing the extinguisher down at Bronx, Cashe then lets it rip and sprays it directly into his face.

VASSA: “HAH!!! Put those flames out Cashe!”

JOHNSON: “I can’t even see them in the ring now. There’s a cloud engulfing everything.”

VASSA: “There’s always a cloud of smoke following Cashe around.”

Stepping out of the cloud, Cashe begins coughing. Waving his hand in front of him, he continues stepping back into the fresh air. Meanwhile, Bronx is hidden in the cloud . Trying to get a view from all angles, Cashe circles the cloud but can’t see anything as it is too thick. Out of nowhere, Bronx leaps out of the cloud, without the El Bizchoco mask. Catching Cashe by surprise, Bronx punches him in the throat, knocking him backwards into the chain wall. He then unloads with a combination of body punches to Cashe. After wearing Cashe down, Bronx then reaches above and pulls a cheese grater from the wall. He then presses it into Cashe’s chest and rips it from one side to the other.

VASSA: “Watch out for that other nipple Cashe! You lost the match last year at this very same event.”

Cashe then lunges his head forward and hits Bronx with a headbutt, stunning him. Ripping the grater out of Bronx hand, Cashe then smacks him over the top of the head with it. Holding the grater with one hand, Cashe then grabs some of Bronx’s hair with his other. He then presses pulls Bronx’s hair tight and then up the grater, cutting off a handful.

JOHNSON: “We have a barber shop now in the ring.”

VASSA: “I don’t know about a barber shop but Cashe is certainly pretending he’s a barber now.”

Cashe then pushes Bronx away and holds the hair above his hair like a trophy, roaring as loud as he can. Touching his hair, Bronx looks at the pieces in Cashe’s hand. Growing angry, Bronx then smacks the grater out of Cashe’s hand and then spits in his eyes.

VASSA: “That should help get some of the sand out of your eyes!”

Bronx then grabs Cashe with both hands and throws him into the corner. Looking above, Bronx sees the staple gun hanging nearby and begins pulling it down. Having a hard time with it, he takes a little than anticipated, giving Cashe time to come to his senses. Cashe then pushes himself out of the corner and makes his way towards Bronx who has his back turned to him. Cashe then grabs Bronx and turns him around and as he does, Bronx pulls the staple gun down and then presses it against Cashe’s chest.

CCLLIICCKK!!!

Bronx puts a staple in Cashe’s chest as a loud howl is heard throughout the arena following. Bronx then squeezes the staple gun again and again, putting more staples into Cashe’s chest.

CCLLIICCKK!!!

CCLLIICCKK!!!

CCLLIICCKK!!!

Ignoring the pain, Cashe then grabs Bronx’s head with both hands and then lunges his forward, hitting Bronx with a headbutt that sends him rolling backwards to the mat. Stumbling back himself, Cashe wobbles for a fit, feeling the effects of that headbutt as well. He then shakes it off and looks to Bronx who is now slowly pushing himself up with the staple gun still in hand. As soon as Bronx stands, Cashe then charges towards him, wraps him up, lifts him into the air, and then runs towards the ropes as Bronx puts a couple more staples in his back.

CCLLIICCKK!!!

CCLLIICCKK!!!

Hitting the ropes, the two then flip over and crash hard on the floor below, Bronx providing a bit of cushion for Cashe. The staple gun slides across the floor and stops just in front of the barricade. Mounting himself on top of Bronx, Cashe then begins to hit him wildly with punches to the face before transitioning into a gorilla styled fist attack, moving the target to Bronx’s chest. With Bronx laid out underneath him, Cashe then stands to his feet and scans the floor for the staple gun.

JOHNSON: “Cashe is bleeding all over from the staples lodged in his skin.”

VASSA: “I thought Bronx was doing some office work for a moment there. He’s quite crafty with that staple gun.”

Cashe’s eyes light up as he spots the staple gun nearby. Walking over to it, he picks it up from the floor before a few fans in the front row grab him attention. In shock, more so surprise like a kid on Christmas morning, Cashe spots a fan wearing a Tony Stewart shirt. The camera then zooms in on Cashe’s face as he mouths off to the fan, “sorry big guy.” Cashe then grabs ahold of the fan and pulls him in closer to the barricade. After a short struggle, Cashe then pulls the mans shirt over his head and then begins waving it over his in circles as if it were a lasso. He then looks over to Bronx who is crawling in the opposite direction.

Stalking Bronx, Cashe creeps up behind him as he crawls on all fours. Cashe then twists the shirt and whips it, slapping Bronx’s across his behind. Cashe then places the shirt over Bronx’s bottom and presses the staple gun against the fabric, pressing it even further against Bronx.

CCLLIICCKK!!!

CCLLIICCKK!!!

VASSA: “OH MY GOD!!! HE STAPLED A TONY STEWART SHIRT TO BRONXY!!!”

Bronx then rolls away from Cashe until crashing into the barricade. He then quickly pulls himself up. Looking into the crowd, Bronx grabs a drink out of a fans hand and then turns around, throwing it into Cashe’s face. he then turns back to the crowd and this time, he snatches a bucket of popcorn away from a man holding an ugly baby. Bronx looks to him and winks before saying, “sorry about stealing your popcorn, but your baby is ugly as fuck.” Bronx then turns back to Cashe who is blinded from the soda in his eye. Emptying the popcorn over Cashe’s head, Bronx then places the bucket over it, covering Cashe’s face. He then snatches the staple gun out of Cashe’s hand and begins stapling the popcorn bucket to Cashe’s skull.

CCLLIICCKK!!!

CCLLIICCKK!!!

CCLLIICCKK!!!

Cashe then immediately grabs the bucket with both hands and rips it away from his head, leaving pieces of it stuck to his skin underneath the staples that remain lodged in him. Bronx then places the staple gun to his chest and squeezes

click

Looking down at the gun, Bronx realizes that it’s empty but before he can react, Cashe swats it out of his hand and then grabs him by the head, pulling it down as he lifts his knee and plants it into his face. Cashe then drags Bronx by the hair and heads towards the scaffold. Throwing Bronx forward, Cashe slams him into the scaffold. Looking up, Cashe then begins climbing towards the top.

JOHNSON: “Here we go again! Maybe this time someone will actually go through the tables.”

VASSA: “We can only hope. I don’t know how much more these two can take.”

Finally making it to the top, Cashe leans over the edge and begins yelling down at Bronx. He then finally gets his attention. Stepping away from the scaffold, Bronx looks up at Cashe and begins shaking his head from left to right, refusing to go to the top again. Cashe then yells down to Bronx as loud as he can, “what’s that on your ass?” Bronx then looks down and behind him, spotting the shirt still hanging from his pants. Reaching behind him, he rips it away from his pant, pulling the staples out of his flesh in the process. Screeching at the pain, his face quickly goes blank as he sees the print on the shirt. Holding it with both hands, he then raises it to eye level while stretching it. “That fucking murderer” he mouths before throwing it to the floor and spitting on it. Bronx then takes off and charges towards the scaffold. Leaping into the air, he clings onto the side and then begins climbing towards the top.

JOHNSON: “That’s one way to make Bronx angry.”

VASSA: “Words can’t explain the hatred he has for Tony Stewart. The man practically killed someone in cold blood and got away with it.”

JOHNSON: “I hope you’re not talking about that awful television show I keep hearing Bronx talk about.”

Backing away from the side, Cashe leaves Bronx a free path to the top with no interference. Pulling himself up and over the side, Bronx crawls onto the top of the scaffold before pushing himself up. At that very moment, him and Cashe lock eyes, standing on each side of the scaffold, motionless. The crowd begins growing louder and louder as the two stare at one another as if it were a standoff. With his hand over the side of his hip, Bronx looks Cashe dead in the eyes before drawing his finger gun from its holster and putting one in Cashe’s chest. Cashe looks down, scanning himself for any wounds before chuckling to himself and looking back to Bronx. Cashe then holds his hands as if he were holding a shotgun and fires. Rolling forward, Bronx avoids the imaginary bullet before popping back to his feet and running straight for Cashe.

VASSA: “Check yourself, Steve. Make sure you didn’t catch a stray.”

Cashe then takes off towards Bronx and as the two meet in the center of the scaffold, they both lunge forward and throw vicious rights. At the same moment, the two punch each other in the jaw, stopping the other in their tracks. Cashe then swings with a left and connects to the side of Bronx’s shoulder. Bronx then swings with a right and catches Cashe in the side of the neck. Stomping down on Bronx’s toes, Cashe forces Bronx to look down, opening himself up for a jab to the eye. Stumbling backwards, Bronx plants his back leg and then pushes himself forward, chopping Cashe in the throat. Bronx then swings with an overhead left, clobbering the top of Cashe’s head. With Cashe off balance, Bronx then hits him ear with an open palm, forcing Cashe to quickly grab it as the ringing begins. As if straight out of a movie, Bronx then lifts his leg up as high as he can, touching his knee to his chest. He then kicks his foot out, fully extending his leg and planting his foot into Cashe’s chest, kicking him off of the scaffold and down to the television sitting on top of the table back first.

CCRRAACCKK!!!

The screen of the television shatters even more but the table doesn’t give way. Astonished at the sight, Bronx then drops down and sits on the edge of the scaffold before pushing himself off and landing on his feet on top of the table. He then grabs Cashe by the head and slowly pulls him up to his feet. Bronx’s eyes then light up as Cashe grabs him with both hands, locking onto Bronx’s shoulders. Cashe then pulls Bronx in close and whispers into his ear as the camera zooms into his lips. “Peace, punch, Captain…. CRUNCH!” Cashe then knees Bronx in the crotch, knocking the air out from his lungs. Cashe then lifts Bronx up into the air and drops him onto the television with a sit-out spinebuster.

CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!

CCCRRRUUUNNNCCCHHH!!!

JOHNSON: “The Trouble Bomb!”

VASSA: “There goes the first table!”

The two bust through the first table and falls down to the next, crushing the television.

CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!

The table then snaps in the center as the two bust through it.

CCCRRRUUUNNNCCCHHH!!!

Crashing to the floor, the two land awfully hard as the debris then rains down, covering them as it forms a pile.

VASSA: “HOLY MOTHER FUCKING SHIT!!!”

JOHNSON: “That’s a wrap ladies and gentlemen! Both tables have been broken with Bronx going through each first after Cashe hitting him with the Trouble Bomb.”

The official then calls for the bell before rushing to the pile of debris and removing piece after piece.

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: “Here is your winner and still 4CW Extreme Television Champion… JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”

VASSA: “They’re going to be digging all night to uncover those two.”

JOHNSON: “And here come the paramedics!”

VASSA: “I hope they brought more than one stretcher because I could see these two going at it again over who gets to ride in it.”

JOHNSON: “We have one huge mess on our hands folks. We’re going to go backstage while the cleaning crew and the paramedics dig Cashe and Bronx out from the mess. We’ll be back shortly.”

 

The cameras switch backstage, focusing on the door to the office of Perry Wallace. After a few moments Bryan Williams and Aidan Carlisle, not yet in their ring gear, enter the frame, pushing the door open without so much as a knock and walking in. Inside, the chair behind the desk is empty, but Jack Vaughn is standing in front of the mahogany surface.

CARLISLE: “Jack, good to see you. You’ve got that bit of business we talked about?”

Jack makes a little beckoning gesture without answering. Aidan only smirks as she reaches into her pocket, drawing out a folded piece of paper. She hands it over to Vaughn and folds her arms across her waist as she lets him investigate. Vaughn begins to read after unfolding the page.

VAUGHN: “In the event of early termination of the contract, Bryan Williams and Aidan Carlisle, henceforth referred to collectively as The Art of War, will receive half of the total promised payment, regardless of completion or services rendered.”

CARLISLE: “You’re a prudent businessman, Jack, and one who I am going to assume protects his integrity when it comes to honoring business deals. Wallace couldn’t be patient and let us handle Unstable on our own terms. He got in the way, unfortunate things happened. He should have left it to us. I’m not letting him back out of paying us because he’s butthurt over a little chair shot which, by the way, came from his supposed son, not the trash heap of fading talent in question.”

For several long moments Vaughn seems to consider his options.

VAUGHN: “The payout is cheaper than arbitration would be.”

Vaughn’s eyes shifted to Bryan, who had been quiet so far.

VAUGHN: “What about you, you insisting on this too?”

WILLIAMS: “I’ve got a girlfriend to take care of and a house I just bought. I’m not turning away cash.”

Jack nods before he reaches down and picks up a briefcase from beside the desk. Laying it flat on one of the chairs in front of him, he opens it up and withdraws two thick stacks of bills, handing them over to Aidan. Aidan takes one for herself, handing the other to Bryan.

VAUGHN: “There, fifty thousand dollars, half of the total if all four heads had been collected.”

WILLIAMS: “Aren’t there five?”

CARLISLE: “No one counts Niobe, Bryan. The Extinguished Stereotypes couldn’t even remember she’s a part of the ‘team’ while they were boring us to sleep in that promo, remember?”

WILLIAMS: “So much for being a family.”

CARLISLE: “She must be the cousin no one likes. Which would explain why Cashe fucks her.”

Jack and Bryan both look a little uncomfortable at the train of thought. Aidan shrugs it off and turns to Williams, giving him a nudge with her elbow.

CARLISLE: “Got a lighter with you?”

WILLIAMS: “What do you need a lighter for?”

Despite the question, Bryan searches his coat and finds one in an inner pocket, which he hands over. Aidan steps away from her partner and over to the opposite side of the desk. She yanks the mostly empty bag from the round metal trash can and tosses it aside. Holding up the thick stack of cash, she flicks the lighter twice before the sparks catch. After just a few moments of touching the flame to the corner of the bundle, the twenty-five thousand begins to rapidly burn. With a smirk, Aidan drops it into the empty trash can.

VAUGHN: “Are you fucking crazy?”

Aidan’s smirk grows into a full smile as she hands Bryan back his lighter.

CARLISLE: “Not at all. But any chance at all I get to pry something away from Perry Wallace? That’s a chance I’m going to take.”

She turns away as the flames continue to crackle in the trash can, giving a light backhanded slap to her partner’s arm.

CARLISLE: “Come on, Bryan. I’ve had enough of work. Let’s get ready to play.”

With a nod toward Jack, the two stroll out of the office, seemingly without a care in the world.

 

 

We’re in the back of the Staples Center near one of the many, upon many area where people seem to be gathering.  Walking through this area is none other Brody Lee Prince along with his manager slash girlfriend Starla and his agent and Starla’s brother, Max.  Brody Lee looks ready for a fight, he’s already in his ring gear and has his Stetson hat tipped forward which of course is a sign he means business.  Starla is wearing a glittery blue dress which doesn’t leave much to imagination, but matches the whole winter theme here tonight.

Brody Lee looks at a piece of paper in his hand which causes him to have a nice smirk on his face as he approaches none other than Lord Raab who’s wearing a Green mask with it being burned to pieces with another green mask underneath the burnt one with green and black trousers as Brody Lee speaks to Raab.

BRODY LEE: “Been a while there, ain’t it?  Don’t think for a second I haven’t forgotten what happened the last time me and you stood here toe to toe.  You smashed up trophy Marla, may she rest in peace.”

STARLA: “That trophy is in the garage.”

BRODY LEE: “Regardless, the point is Raab… you and me still have some unfinished business and guess what this little piece of paper tells me?  That tonight, you and me are going to settle that unfinished business.  You and me, next.  Whatcha think about that?”

RAAB:“Don’t you think I know we have unfinished business? Are you still crying about the broken trophy? Cry me a fucking river because nobody cares about that piece of tin you pretend to have won. You just a bitch made pussy like the rest of these idiots on Fate. You want a match against me? Of course I face a weak man like yourself because I’m here to beat the life out of people.”

Raab takes no notice of the woman there as his eyes are straight on Brody as at this point, Brody is getting a little agitated with Raab’s words and actions towards him as he responds to the things Raab said to him.

BRODY LEE: “I’d like to see you beat the life out of me right now.  You might be the green disease, but I’m the goddamned cure.”

Chest to chest, eye to eye the two stand looking at each other.  A couple of members of the 4CW security team pull the two apart just before things begin to get physical.  Brody Lee nods towards Raab with a ‘I’ll see you soon’ sort look on his face as he begins to make his way towards the ring.

 

 

UNDERCARD
WASTELAND WILDCARD
LORD RAAB VS. BRODY LEE PRINCE

 

A simulated sundown on the video board plays as the lights of the arena begin to slowly fade to black, all that remains is the sound of guitar is heard.

“You can run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Run on for a long time
Sooner or later God’ll cut you down
Sooner or later God’ll cut you down”

After a couple of moments the curtains part and a bright spotlight roars from behind giving the person standing there a nice silhouette.  Johnny Cash’s “God’s Gonna Cut You Down” continues as the light begins to dim down showing that the person standing there is none other Brody Lee Prince.  Brody Lee wears his black stetson hat tipped forward and over his eyes which also covers his long curly brown hair, he seems to be growing a nice beard as well.  He is wearing a pair of black trunks, a leather sleeveless jacket, and his right arm is heavily bandaged and covered in a black protective band.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Forth Worth, Texas, weighing in at two hundred forty five pounds and standing six feet, five inches tall! He is accompanied to the ring by Starla and Max Von Grant! He is the “Prince of Texas”, BRODY LEE PPRRIINNCCEE!!!”

As he begins to walk towards the ring out from the back emerges the Green Disease German Monster, Lord Raab!!  Brody Lee doesn’t seem to notice as Lord Raab sneaks up from behind holding something in his hands, at first the camera doesn’t pick it up until it is too late and Brody Lee is knocked forward and falls in the entrance aisle.  Raab holds the object high into the air… it is a staple gun!  Raab charges at Brody Lee and shoves the staple gun into the back of Brody Lee’s head firing off shot after shot!  Brody Lee tries to fight back, but the damage as been done, blood pours from the back of his head and from his forehead.

MATTHEWS: “This one might be over before it even begins!”

GRIFFIN: “We’ve seen Lord Raab do some terrible things before, but I never would have guessed him used a staple gun as a weapon.”

MATTHEWS: “Blood is just pouring from those shots, I counted at least six shots from it.”

GRIFFIN: “And you know those things just hold hundreds more!”

Brody Lee is able to force himself back up to his feet, blood dripping down his face and back, and Raab goes to the attack again sinking more and more staples into Brody Lee.  This time he gets Prince all over the arms and chest, as Brody Lee stumbles into the guardrailing.  Suddenly there is a rush of 4CW event security as they begin to pull the Green Disease German Monster off of Brody Lee and towards the back.

MATTHEWS: “Lord Raab bringing a staple gun to the Staples Center.”

GRIFFIN: “I don’t think we’re going to be getting a match here tonight between this two.”

MATTHEWS: “But, you might be getting one down the road and what a match that one is going to be.  Lord Raab just took out Brody Lee Prince with a staple gun and with Brody Lee’s new attitude, that kicked off a war.”

GRIFFIN: “Oh yeah, that one is going to be good.”

 

We open backstage inside of Perry Wallace elegant office. The lights are dim with a flat screen television hanging on the far wall with an inside shot of the arena. On the other side of the room, Perry Wallace sits on a leather sofa with the lovely, Kaysie Sherell. Both seem to be enjoying each others company with a glass in hand. Standing up, Wallace brushes off his jacket before looking at Kaysie and extending his hand.

WALLACE: ”I’m going to pour myself another drink. Your glass is looking a little empty as well. Would you care for another?”

With a smile, Kaysie looks over at her “Perr-bear”. As she looks at him, she rubs her hands on the tight dress that she is wearing.

SHERELL: ”I don’t think that’s a great idea. I need a little sober to talk about what I wanted to ask you.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Wallace turns and heads for the bar not too far away. Placing the glass onto the top of the bar, he then grabs a bottle of scotch as he looks back to Kaysie.

WALLACE: ”What’s on your mind?”

Kaysie takes a deep breath. Looking down at the floor for a few moments, she then picks her head back up and looks at Perry with a stern expression

SHERELL: ”Well, you know I’ve been hanging around this place for a few weeks now. I’ve been thinking, why don’t I get back in the ring?”

Catching Wallace off guard, he continues to pour himself a drink, taking his time while thinking over his response.

WALLACE: ”Get back in the ring? Am I boring you that badly? Heh…”

Kaysie lets out a soft laugh. She then looks at Perry with her beautiful eyes.

SHERELL: ”You never bore me, I just want to get back in the ring again. This was my dream, and I want to get back to it. Plus, I wouldn’t be too far from you.”

WALLACE: “You’re right about that. I would more than likely be down at ringside watching. I don’t know how your opponents would feel though, possibly worrying about a fine if something were to happen to you. Things are a little heated right now with Unstable and myself. The last thing I want is for you to be out there alone and something happen to you.”

Taking a drink from his glass, Wallace then slowly walks back over to the couch before sitting down and placing his arm around Kaysie.

WALLACE: ”Check it out. I want you to be happy, I really do. If getting in that ring is going to do just that, then I will do whatever is in my power to make that happen. Let’s just get through the evening and discuss tomorrow morning over breakfast, okay?

Wallace then takes another drink as she nudges his shoulder. The two carry on as the scene slowly fades out.

 

POWERS: “If you will direct your attention to the stage, the Pushta of Budapest are here to serenade you, courtesy of Istvan ‘Wolfsbane’ Bathory.”

GRIFFIN: “Well, this is unusual. It’s not every day we get gypsies here.”

MATTHEWS: “Things have certainly become a little more interesting since Istvan arrived.”

A young woman appears in front of a stage piece resembling a Vardo wagon, with a gypsy band in front of it, playing accordions, violins, zithers, drums, and an acoustic guitar. The young woman begins to dance to the music, slowly at first, swaying her lithe form about, stretching her arms as if to entice the people in the front row. As they play, there is an image of a woman playing a violin in the forest on the big screen.

GRIFFIN: “Oh great. The natives will get restless now.”

The woman has slung a long silken cloth around a man’s neck in the front row and slid it around his neck. He loosens his tie uncomfortably. As the music picks up, she twirls, her dress lifting, not helped by her high kicks.

MATTHEWS: “Good thing we’re on HBO.”

GRIFFIN: “The audience seems to like it though. Well, half of them.”

The girl does a cartwheel and lands, spinning on one foot. Griffin and Matthews are startled suddenly by a pair of hands on their shoulders, having been watching the unusual show. Istvan Bathory and his wife, Katrina Von Reich-Bathory have appeared next to them, seemingly out of nowhere.

BATHORY: “Ha úgy tetszik hogy neki tanítani, hogy táncolni.!”

KATRINA: “Vat he said vas he could get her to teach you to dance like zat. Also, Istvan has a message!”

GRIFFIN: “No, we’re good.”

Men in the crowd are still catcalling the dancer in the background.

MATTHEWS: “You were saying?”

BATHORY: “Úgy tűnik, hogy ütött sok levegő-idő szentelt nekem. Nem rossz, hogy valaki senki sem veszi komolyan, igen? Azt mondja, egy dolog. Megijed tőlem. Emberek megszámolása a perc én vagyok beszélt a kamera, az emberek, magam is. Kétszer a videó bármely más versenytárs van a wild card mérkőzésen. Azt mondják, itt csak mondás, ez, hiszek.”

KATRINA: “He said, ‘I seem to have gotten much air-time devoted to me. Not bad for somevun no vun takes seriously, ja? Zat tells me vun think. Zey are scared of me. I have had people counting ze minutes I am being talked about on camera, by people otzer zan myself. I got tvice ze video of any otzer competitor in ze vild-card matches. How they say here- Just sayink, I Believe it ist.'”

Wolfsbane leans to whisper in Katrina’s ear.

KATRINA: “He says to enjoy ze show.”

As he leaves, the Gypsy girl and the band finish, with her blowing the crowd a kiss as they exit the stage with applause.

 

 

 

 

UNDERCARD
KAT JONES VS. VICTOR CASSIUS

JOHNSON: ”Hot start tonight at Winter Wasteland!  It’s been quite a showing so far and I can’t wait to see what happens in this next match!”

VASSA: ”You’ve got that right!  Let’s see what Kat and Victor can bring to continue to boost this epic night!”

POWERS:”The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”

“Release me”

The two words from the Public Address system in the arena cause the fans in attendance, already on their feet, to react with disdain and unappreciative shouts. Kat Jones, 4CW’s resident, badass Cincinnati native of ill repute methodically makes her way to the top of the ramp from the gorilla position. Her black shorts and knee high boots are more characterizing of her facial expression and attitude toward the scathing crowd, than her highly decorative top full of self expression.

“No remnants were ever found of it
Feeling the hot bile
With every fake smile
Though no evidence was ever found
It never went away completely”

Kat walks toward the ring, methodically and without much concern at all, regarding the insults and jeers thrown in her direction.

POWERS: “Making her way to the ring, hailing from Cincinnati, Ohio, standing five feet, eight inches tall and weighing in at one hundred twenty four pounds, she is the  “WildKat”… KAT JJOONNEESS!!!”

“I try to hide from the unholy sound of it
Another day gone
Another night’s dawn”

Standing before the ring apron, Kat removes her black leather jacket, whips it behind her, releasing it and allowing it to sail toward the ramp, ultimately letting out a bloodcurdling scream, before she enters the ring and awaits ……….  arrival.

JOHNSON: ]”Victor Cassius is quite new to 4CW and there’s going to be some pressure going into this match with Kat.”

VASSA: ”You’re right about that, Johnson.  This is Victor’s first 4CW PPV, so it’s going to be interesting to see how he approaches this match.  I don’t expect Kat to let her guard down in this match against the 4CW newcomer.”

“Viol (Brodinski Remix)” hits, and the lights start to fluctuate wildly to the beat of the song. Desiree Drake steps out from the entry-way first, a smug, self-satisfied look on her face as she flaunts her curves to the audience. Soon after her comes Charity Skye, a much more genuine smile on her features as she also flaunts herself, a little less vindictively toward the audience, the floor around them now covered in a purplish haze of smoke. Victor makes his way out slowly to a chorus of boos, standing on the stage with his arms outstretched as he soaks up the attention, both women taking up a lascivious pose to either side of him, arms outstretched as they press to his sides and he smirks knowingly.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring accompanied by Desiree Drake and Charity Skye, weighing in at two hundred thirteen pounds and standing six feet tall! He is the “Essence of Excellence”, VICTOR CCAASSSSIIUUSS!!!”

Both women take the lead then, and Victor follows behind, his robe flowing as his managers make their way toward the ring, Desiree rolling her eyes at the crowd as Charity smiles brightly. Victor jaws with some of the audience on the way, showing off his physique to some of the female members of the audience as well as both women scale the apron from opposite sides, sitting in sensual poses as Victor slides under the ropes between them. He finds his way to his feet once more as both women step in, making his way to the center of the ring, where he stands arms outstretched again. Charity and Desiree strip him of his robe then, and Victor smirks, dropping to his knees with a grin to let the crowd soak up his arrogance before nipping back up, having a few choice words with the official before leaning confidently in his corner to await the start of the match as his managers step out of the ring.

JOHNSON: ”Victor looking pretty confident here tonight.”

VASSA: ”We’re about to find out how confident soon.  Those two managers he has, Desiree and Charity, look absolutely stunning!”

JOHNSON: ”Keep your eyes on the match, Vassa!  We don’t need commentary to fall apart tonight now do we?”

VASSA: ”Hey now, there’s nothing wrong with looking!”

DING!!! DING!!!

 

The match is underway as Kat and Victor start to circle the ring of each other.  Both 4CW stars are being careful as they try and anticipate each others strategy.  Before the two can lock up, Kat sends a hard welcome to 4CW bitch slap straight into the face of Victor.  Victor’s head turns to the side as the fans inside the Staples Center can hear it echo around the arena.  Kat goes to work from there as she starts to send some chops to the chest in Victor.  Those chops can also be heard as Kat Irish whips Victor into the ropes before she connects with a spinning heel kick sending Victor down to the mat.  Kat goes for the early cover.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”My God did you hear that?!  Kat is giving the rookie some quick offense in the early goings of this match.”

VASSA: ”Yea, and that could spell trouble for Victor if he can’t change the offensive tempo of this match.”

Kat sends some kicks into the back of Victor before bringing him back to his feet.  She whips him into the corner as she sends a handspring elbow into the face of Victor.  As Victor stumbles forward, Kat grabs a hold of him and sends Victor crashing back into the mat with a bulldog.  Kat once again goes for the cover.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Kat is on hot fire tonight and she’s not letting Victor get the upperhand in this match up.”

VASSA: ”This is what makes Kat so dangerous.  This is also what makes this match in danger of losing for Victor.  He’s going to have to find a way to strike Kat and switch the momentum in his favor.”

Kat sends some more kicks into Victor as she continues her patterned formula.  She brings Victor back to his feet before sending Victor back into the corner turnbuckle.  As she moves closer to Victor, Desiree and Charity hop up on the apron to garner the attention of Kat.  Kat shifts her attention slightly but that’s all that it takes as Victor charges at Kat as Kat turns back to Victor but it’s too late as Victor clips her with a forearm smash.  Victor gets back to his feet quickly, as does Kat, as Victor kicks Kat in the gut before plowing her with a diamond cutter.  Victor starts to pump his chest as he finally feels alive in this match.  Victor grabs Kat and slams her into the canvas with a german suplex.  Victor covers Kat.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”It looks like Victor has found his momentum in this match!  All it took was a little distraction from his valets!”

VASSA: ”That is one thing Victor has in his favor!  He has an audience and it looks like he’s playing his cards right at the moment!”

Now it’s Victor who is taking the fight to Kat as he sends some reeling kicks into the face of Kat.  Victor brings Kat to her feet as he dishes out some lefts and rights into her.  Kat finally blocks him as she whips him into the ropes but Victor comes back at her and dishes out a hurricanarona that spins Kat into the mat.  Victor heads to the top rope as he measures Kat and jumps off connecting with a sweet moonsault on Kat.  Victor once again covers Kat.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Victor can feel the intensity picking up!  Kat could be in a lot of trouble now Vassa!”

VASSA: ”Ever since Victor’s valets provided the distraction for him, he’s been in complete control of this match!”[/center]

Kat gets back to her feet as Victor rushes towards the ropes.  He springboards off the ropes and attempts an elbow but Kat surprises him with a standing dropkick which causes Victor to flap into the mat.  Kat grabs Victor and brings him back to his feet before dishing out more chops to the chest.  Kat then guts Victor in the abdomen before planting him with a belly to belly suplex.  Kat drops down and covers Victor.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Kat almost had him right there!  Victor keeps himself alive in this match!”

VASSA: ”Unbelievable resiliency by Victor!  Kat knows she was close in having him but Victor proving he can hang with Kat!”

Kat starts to strike at the right leg of Victor before grabbing it and slamming it back down into the mat.  Victor grabs his right leg as Kat continues to go to work on it.  She continues to strike at it as Victor starts to show some signs of pain.  Having be near the apron, Kat rolls out of the ring and grabs Victor’s right leg and flings it into the ring post.  Victor grabs his leg once more as he attempts to get back to his feet.

JOHNSON: ”Kat starting to find some weaknesses in Victor and it looks like she’s found her mark as she stays focused on that right leg.”

VASSA: ”That’s ring psychology right there Johnson!  Kat knows how to get her opponents into a pickle and that’s exactly what she’s doing right now.”

Kat rolls back into the ring as Victor has gotten back to his feet but isn’t putting much weight on his right foot.  As Kat approaches Victor, Victor plants a superkick out of nowhere which knocks Kat senseless down to the mat.  Victor plops back to the ground and starts to favor his right leg as he rolls over and covers Kat.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Holy shit!  Victor almost had her there!  Victor could have won it right there, but Kat showing her own form of versatility is able to kick out!”

VASSA: ”I love the awareness and the desperation of wanting to win this match by Victor, but I’m afraid it’s going to take a lot more than that to put Kat away here.”

Victor is able to finally reach his feet as he sees that Kat is still down on the mat.  Victor takes the opportunity again and heads to the top rope.  He is finally able to get to the top as he is still being careful with that right leg.  He stands up straight on the top rope before diving off and going for a shooting star press but Kat raises her knees as Victor crashes into them.  Victor grabs his chest as Kat is quickly able to get to her feet sensing the changing of the guard in this match.  Victor is able to get to one knee as Kat gets on both feet.  Kat bounces off the ropes before connecting with an insuguri kick that buzzes Victor.  Kat drops down and covers Victor who is still buzzed from that kick.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Oh my god!  I thought Kat had him there!  Victor refuses to give in!”

VASSA: ”This kid has a lot of fight in him!  Kat looks like she’s growing frustrated right now!”

Kat shakes her head as she looks to finish this match once and for all against Victor.  She pulls up the struggling Victor and goes for the KAT-ASTROPHE on Victor but Victor is able to get out of it!  Victor ends up pushing Kat back a bit enough for him to land yet another out of the blue superkick.  Victor powers himself back up to the top rope as he measures Kat before diving off and connecting with the New God Flow.  Victor covers and hooks the leg of Kat.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

JOHNSON: ”Oh my god, he got her!  Victor put away Kat!”

VASSA: ”UNBELIEVABLE!  What a win by Victor!”

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, Victor Cassius!”

Victor gets back to his feet as his hand is raised in victory.  Desiree and Charity enter the ring and celebrate with Victor as Kat looks on from the side sitting up on the mat.

JOHNSON: ”What a great hard earned victory for Victor here tonight!  A strong showing by both but Victor is able to overcome the pressure with ease here tonight.”

VASSA: ”I got to give it up to both these competitors.  This is what 4CW is all about!  What a great entertaining match up and the Winter Wasteland showcase continues!”

 

 

The cameras return ringside to find Fate GM Bethany Bailey standing on the stage with a microphone in hand. Next to her is a small lottery-style tumbler with slips of paper resting inside.

BAILEY: “After that little debacle before our first Wasteland Wildcard match, I’ve decided to take a little extra precaution to prevent further incident. No more forewarning for anyone at all. Now, let’s find out who the two opponents in the second match will be!”

Bethany turns the handle on the tumbler several times to stir up the slips of paper inside before she draws out two, a little smirk on her face.

BAILEY: “Next we will see… Istvan Bathory versus… Zolton!”

Bethany retreats backstage so the match can begin.

 

UNDERCARD
WASTELAND WILDCARD
ISTVAN BATHORY VS. ZOLTON

A full moon pops on the big screen, with clouds moving in front of it, and a wolf howls in the distance. Then the Violin solo begins…

POWERS: “Introducing first, from Budapest, Hungary, weighing in at three hundred and ten pounds… He is ‘Wolfsbane,’ Istvaaan Baaathory!!!”

Slow at first as Wolfsbane comes to ringside, playing the violin, moving in slow circles as he half walks, half dances, engrossed in his own playing. He’s in no hurry, and he ignores the crowd, staying just out of reach until he gets to the ringside area, whereupon he sets down the violin for an usher to carry his beloved instrument back to the dressing room. He removes his earring, his vest, shirt, belt and sash, almost oblivious to his opponent, or so it would seem. When he is ready for the ring, he twirls one side of his handlebar moustache, and takes a few shadow boxing punches to get himself warmed up.

As the opening of “Cradle to the Grave” hits the speakers, the arena goes dark with fog filling the entrance area. Upon the entrance screen a video montage begins to roll of Zolton standing atop a mountain and behind him is highlights of what he has done in a wrestling ring. As the lyrics begin to be heard, Zotlon himself steps out onto the stage area among the smoke. The crowd begins to boo loudly. Zolton relishes in the dissatisfaction of the crowd with an arrogant grin. His leather long trench coat gleams of the now bright spot light shining down upon him.

POWERS: “And his opponent, from Yakima, Washington, weighing in at two hundred sixty-five pounds… He is the ‘God of all Gods,’ Zoooltooon!!!”

He now begins to make his way down the ramp toward the ring. Refusing to acknowledge the crowd as he passes them. Reaching the ring he steps up the ring steps slowly, his arrogant smile plastered all over his face. He then jumps to the top turnbuckle of the corner of the ring. He calls it his throne as the arena lights return to normal and the song fades to silence. Zolton ignores the crowd as he lets his trench coat slide down off his shoulders to the floor.

MATTHEWS: “This could prove to be an interesting match with the difference in style between these two. Newcomer Zolton leans more toward a martial arts background and Bathory no doubt has some aggression to work out after falling short of contendership in the four way match.”

GRIFFIN: “Hopefully this one will go on as an actual match and not break down into a brawl like the last one. Though, with Istvan in the ring, you never know.”

True to form, Bathory barely even gives the official time to check with each corner before advancing, prompting a call for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Istvan’s unorthodox style catches Zolton off guard as Bathory lunges in with a hellacious elbow smash that sends the other man reeling back toward his corner. Wolfsbane follows with a heart punch, leaving Zolton clutching his chest momentarily. Istvan grabs Zolton’s dreadlocked hair to hold in him place for a headbutt, but Zolton manages to break free with a European uppercut. The blow is hard enough to spin Bathory around and knock him to the mat, putting him in perfect position for a mule kick that catches Zolton right in the abdomen!

GRIFFIN: “Istvan is really unloading on Zolton right now.”

MATTHEWS: “It’s hard to prepare to go up against Bathory on a good day, but when you’ve never been in the ring with him before? Zolton really has his work cut out for him here. Hopefully he is a quick learner!”

Zolton surges forward as Bathory goes for another shot, catching the other man’s arm before the blow can land and countering with a short arm clothesline! Zolton gives Istvan no room to back up as he stands, immediately catching Wolfsbane on the jaw with a stiff double jab. With Bathory off balance, Zolton locks him up for an overhead belly-to-belly suplex that shakes the ring under their combined weight! Zolton bridges for the pin!

ONE!
.
.
TW—KICKOUT!!!

MATTHEWS: “Maybe I spoke too soon! Zolton is powering back with authority.”

GRIFFIN: “Not quite two on that pin, but I think he just showed everyone here that he has the ability to give Istvan Bathory a run for his money. I wasn’t sure what to expect when he introduced himself last week, but Zolton is impressive!”

Zolton is up, but Bathory surges out of a low crouch for a spear tackle! Focusing on the chest and midsection he’s already done damage too, Istvan follows up with a headbutt t to the sternum! Bathory gets to his feet, preparing for a fist drop, but Zolton rolls back over one shoulder and to his feet as well! Istvan charges! Zolton uses the moment to his advantage and flips the feral man up into position before drilling him into the canvas with a powerbomb!

GRIFFIN: “Did you hear that impact!”

MATTHEWS: “I have heard every impact so far, Demi! Each time these two hit each other it echoes.”

Shaking out the cobwebs as he stands, Bathory is ready as Zolton rushes him, hitting a throat jab that sends Zolton staggering back to the ropes! As soon as Istvan closes in Zolton pushes himself off and whips around for a spinning straight kick that catches Wolfsbane in the gut! Bathory lures Zolton in by staggering back and doubling over, but as soon as he’s within reach Istvan bolts upward with a rising headbutt!

MATTHEWS: “Ouch! That hurt me just watching it.”

GRIFFIN: “Zolton is going to be feeling that for days!”

Zolton staggers backward, holding his face for a few moments. Istvan bounds in to capitalize on the distraction, but Zolton straightens just in time and catches him with a thunderous spinning heel kick!

GRIFFIN: “God’s Smite! This might be it! Bathory is swaying on his feet!”

With a swagger in his step, Zolton closes the distance between himself and his opponent. He’s about to wrap Bathory up for the Earth’s Answer when suddenly Istvan’s hand lashes out and catches him by the throat! Wolfsbane grabs on with the other hand and heaves Zolton into the corner with a choke toss! The animalistic man stalks forward, possessed, as Zolton recovers and stands, delivering that huge chop right across the windpipe!

MATTHEWS: “Full Moon from Wolfsbane!!!”

Zolton falls out of the corner and Bathory makes the cover. The referee slides in for the count.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THREE!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: “And here is your winner… Istvaaan Baaathooory!!!”

GRIFFIN: “Zolton gave Istvan a run for his money, but Bathory unleashed all that built up frustration and it put him over the edge!”

MATTHEWS: “These two are going to clash again, I can feel it.”

 

We open backstage of the Staples Center, as Darryl Wallace approaches his father, and owner of 4CW Mr. Perry Wallace.

P. WALLACE: “Darryl my boy, are you ready for your match tonight?”

D. WALLACE: “Dad, we need to talk.  Immediately.”

Perry has a slightly concerned look on his face.  He knows from past experiences that this conversation tends to not go in his favor.

P. WALLACE: “Um…Can it wait until after your match?”

D. WALLACE: “No, I need this done now.”

P. WALLACE: “Need what done?”

D. WALLACE: “Dad there’s a one in three chance you are my father.  I want to know with certainty.  Can you please just take this paternity test for me?”

The look on Perry’s face is one of not only fear but simple discomfort.  Again through past experiences, this sort of question does not end well for him.

P. WALLACE: “Darryl, we don’t need a test to prove you’re my son.  Let’s just assume you are.  I mean I did adopt you.  Do we need a test to prove that I…uh…

Perry mumbles something under his breath, but it wasn’t loud enough for anyone to hear or understand.

D. WALLACE: “You what?”

P. WALLACE: “I…”

Perry again mumbles, a little louder, but no more clear than the last time.

D. WALLACE: “C’mon Dad, out with it.  You what?”

P. WALLACE: “I LOVE YOU.  I love all of my sons.”

Darryl has a brief pause taking in what his father said, but not allowing that to sway his decision.

D. WALLACE: “If you truly love me, you’ll take this test for me, and give me the definite answer I need.”

P. WALLACE: “I don’t understand why this is necessary son.  Isn’t it enough that I treat you like a son?”

D. WALLACE: “I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but dad, if you’re not willing to do this, I have no choice but to boycott my match tonight.”

Perry looks on frustrated, knowing he is now faced with a tough decision.

P. WALLACE: “Darryl, why is this so important to you?  Don’t you trust me when I say it doesn’t matter, you’re my son whether I knocked your mother up or not?”

Darryl is beginning to get frustrated as his father’s clear avoidance of the request.

D. WALLACE: “Alright, I guess I’ll go change back out of my gear and go back to the hotel.  You’re going to have some angry fans who are thirsty for blood though.  They come in, expecting to see a brawl, only to find out that one competitor didn’t show up because his father refused to do one simple thing for him.”

P. WALLACE: “Darryl, I’m afraid of needles and I don’t want to jerk off in a cup!”

D. WALLACE: “Good, it’s just a little swab of the inside of your cheek.  Only takes like twenty seconds. Jerk off in a cup? There won’t be any need for that.”

Perry contorts his face, knowing his last ditch effort has been stumped, and knows his son is just as stubborn as he, and would not hesitate to go home on principle alone..  He isn’t about to try to call his bluff, because it would be a losing effort.

P. WALLACE: “Fine, Fine, let’s go do this.  I’m going to go on record right now and say whatever you find out, is not going to change anything.  You are still MY boy.  I will still treat you as such.”

D. WALLACE: “I appreciate that dad, this is more just a peace of mind thing.  I need to make sure, with certainty that you are.  I have little doubt in my mind, but I need some level of certainty.”

Darryl and Perry go to a nearby locker room, where a man sits, rubber gloves on, and two vials sitting in front of him.  He walks over to Darryl, swabbing the inside of his cheek, quickly putting the swab inside of a vial and locking it closed.  He then follows suit with Perry.  After both are collected, he smiles at both men.

TESTER: “We should have results in your hand within six to ten days.”

D. WALLACE: “Thank you sir.  Now was that so hard dad?  We will know for sure by Adrenaline.  I’ll keep you informed obviously.”

P. WALLACE: “If this is what you need to feel like you belong, then I hope you find the answers you’re looking for.  You’re still my son.  Now go out there and give that old ass bastard hell.”

D. WALLACE: “Aren’t you supposed to be unbiased?”

P. WALLACE: “I am, I didn’t tell you to kill him.  I know you’re capable of that.”

Darryl nods his head in agreement, before exiting the locker room to finish preparing for his match.  Perry stands in the locker room awkwardly for a few minutes, looking at the tester.

P. WALLACE: “How much could I give you to just get rid of those vials and tell him what he needs to hear?”

The tester looks at Perry appalled by his request, but doesn’t give an immediate answer.  Perry signals for the camera feed to be cut off, smiling.

 

 

UNDERCARD
MEMPHIS CUNNINGHAM VS. RORIE STEELE

 

An ominous chant is heard throughout the arena speakers.

“This is Memphis… he represents the desert… The desert that you will see on your screen in a story we will call, “The Lonely”… The Lonely is about a man sentenced to a lifetime of solitary confinement. The confinement takes place on a sandy asteroid far out in space… This is the story about a man slowly succumbing to a kind of nightmarish loneliness, a gradual disintegration of mind and body because human beings have an unstoppable need for companionship… The most benevolent and compassionate official sends the prisoner a long rectangular box containing… well… a machine… A machine inside of a mask built to look like a woman.”

Faint at first but growing louder and more intense at the dirty baseline kicks in. “Moonlight” by Uncle Skitz starts to play and the fans wait patiently as the chant continues to grow.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from The Moon, weighing in at one hundred eighty nine pounds and standing six feet, one inch tall! He is “The Moon Man”, MEMPHIS CCUUNNNNIINNGGHHAAMM!!!”

A milky purple smog fills ringside and Memphis Cunningham descends from the rafters, landing on the top turnbuckle. He removes the cable from his back belt loop and hops down from the turnbuckle.

JOHNSON: “The Moon, Vinnie, this man with a wrestling style that offers up a wide, expansive repertoire of maneuver possibilities is coming to us from the Moon!”

VASSA: “Steve, I know he’s coming from “The Moon,” I get that. I have no idea, no fucking idea why he’s legally allowed to wear that giant helmet, though.  I just feel like- Christ, Steve, it flat out gives him a ridiculous advantage, doesn’t it?”

JOHNSON: “We’ll see about that, won’t we, Vinnie?  The two combatants certainly are not mirror images of one another, that’s for sure- and we’re about to prove that point, right now, folks!   That sound means it’s time for one of the best parts of the night for every testosterone driven human being in the Staples Center!”

VASSA: “The Queen of Cock is here, fellas!”

The lights dim, as “Sex Metal Barbie” by In This Moment starts to play. As the music starts to pick up, lights flash with the stammering sounds. A female figure comes out, hands in the air. Lights stream up behind her, her front still dark. As the first verse is sang, she turns her back to the crowd, arms still up. She spins around through the lyrics in a seductive dance, her silhouette showing off every asset.

“You know I heard I don’t belong in this game
Still you hold your hands in the air screaming my name
Let’s go!”

The lights flash forward, showing Rorie in all of her glory. She smirks at the crowd, walking down to the ring.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Vancouver, British Columbia, weighing in at one hundred twenty five pounds and standing five feet, six inches tall! She is the “Epitome of Lust” and the “Sweetest Ass in the Game”, RORIE SSTTEEEELLEE!!!”

She teases a few fans of her choosing as she goes. She walks to the steps, climbing up. She slowly bends her body forward to get into the ring. When finally inside, she goes to each post, getting up on the turnbuckle to blow kisses to the crowd.

VASSA: “Every time, Steve.  Every single time, she does it to me.  Goodness.  Fuckin’.  Gracious.

JOHNSON: “She’s some kind of wonderful, alright.”

VASSA: “I know what’s happening for me, right now, Steve, and I’m really fuckin’ glad that I’m sitting down.”

In black booty shorts and a dark gray shirt, cut right beneath of her boobs, Rorie stands in her corner and exudes confidence, as she cuts her eyes back and forth between her opponent in all black gear- complete with his space helmet, which features an LED screen that scroll the words, “SEEK,” and “DESTROY,” on a loop.  Rorie is attempting to do her thing for the beckoning, practically pleading members of the audience that just want to catch her eyes, just once- but, she realizes that she can’t ignore her opponent any longer.   She screams across the ring, “A FUCKING HELMET?!  YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!  A HELMET?!”

VASSA: “It’s true, Steve, Rorie is justified to react that way.  For his opponents, that helmet is distracting and inconvenient- but I do love scrolling LED screens.”

JOHNSON: “Perhaps, a taste of her own medicine, Vinnie?  For the first time in her career, she’s arguably not wearing the most strategically distracting outfit inside the squared circle.”

VASSA: “Speak for yourself, Steve.  That LED screen could be scrolling the name of who actually killed Kennedy, and I’d still be in adult dreamland with Ms. Steele, there.”

DING!!! DING!!!

JOHNSON: “We are underway, Vinnie!”

The referee calls for the bell and the two combatants move toward one another.  Memphis, at a slower, more timid pace than that of Rorie, who rocketed out of her corner like a bat out of hell!  Three quarters across the ring from her starting point, she connects with a missile drop kick to Memphis’ right knee, sending him twisting toward the mat, upon which he catches himself with his right hand.  Lightning fast back to her feet, Rorie scoffs at his not-quite-down situation and yells, “THIS ISN’T THE MOON- GRAVITY, BITCH!  GO-” with her right leg, she punts Memphis’ stabilizing hand out from supporting his weight- “DOWN!” Memphis crashes to the canvas, and the crowd shouts its approval, as Rorie has won them over recent weeks.  The men, she had at, “hello,” but now it’s for more than being a sex symbol- she was entertaining.

JOHNSON: “Rorie showing little respect for her opponent, now!”

VASSA: “Hot fuckin’ lady who says and does whatever she wants- really well.”

Following through with the kick, Rorie walks off her momentum toward the nearest turnbuckle, looking behind her and rolling her eyes, before turning her attention toward the crowd, allowing sultry eyes to give way to a smile of the same nature.  In smooth succession, Steele gracefully stops her forward motion with a strategically placed high kick, caught by the top turnbuckle, stretching the long, tan, toned legs of the five foot six brunette that 4CW couldn’t get onto a calendar fast enough.  Being five foot six, with one leg at the height of the top turnbuckle and one leg firmly planted on the ground, she was practically giving the fans in attendance the view of what it’d be like to look UP at a nearly perfect split.  Her tiny black shorts were well above their typical position, when they’re crowning the bottom curvature of her ass cheeks.  To cap off the, potentially, sexiest moment to have ever taken place on center stage at the Staples Center, Steele let her tongue peek from behind her full, pouty, glossy lips just enough to outline their contours.  Even 80% of the women in the crowd were turned on by this, as the camera would show.

VASSA: “You know she’s directing that towards me, right?”

JOHNSON: “She isn’t even looking in our direction.”

Rorie then turns her attention to Memphis before her facial expression turns as if she were disgusted. She then talks over to him and grabs ahold of the helmet. Dragging him across the ring, she slams him into the corner before unloading with chops to the chest. After nearly chopping him in half, she then moves in behind him and climbs onto the middle rope. Wrapping her arm around his head, Rorie then jumps away from the corner, pulling Memphis along for the ride and planting his helmet into the canvas with a bulldog.

VASSA: “Is Memphis going to fight back or is he just going to take this beating like a little bitch?”

JOHNSON: “He does have a helmet on.”

VASSA: “And I’d bet his ehad it rattling on the inside.”

JOHNSON: “Someone should really look into this. It has to be illegal.”

VASSA: “It doesn’t appear to be helping him any.”

Rorie then pulls Memphis up from the mat and backs him to the edge of the ring, resting him against the ropes. Grabbing onto his arm, she then pulls him into a knee to the stomach. Not letting go of her grip, she then whips him to the ropes across the ring. With Memphis coming back on the rebound, Rorie takes off towards him and ducks an attempted clothesline. The two continue to opposite ropes and as they rebound and head for one another again, Rodie jumps into the air, feet first, and plants both head on to the helmet.

Memphis stumbles backwards but doesn’t go down, giving Rorie enough time to get back up before he makes a move. Rorie then charges towards him again and superkicks the front of the helmet. Stumbling backwards even more, Memphis shakes his head back and forth. He then steps towards Rorie but gets slightly off track as he appears to be dizzy from the attack to the head.

JOHNSON: “Even with the helmet, Memphis might be taking some damage to the head.”

VASSA: “Maybe there isn’t any padding on the inside. Or maybe he’s been taking damage to the head ever since he was a baby and his mother dropped him on it. Something has to be off upstairs if you come to the ring dressed like that. This isn’t a spaceship!”

With Memphis stumbling in the center of the ring as if he were lost, Rorie runs to the ropes in front of him and then comes back with speed, spearing him straight to the canvas. Popping back to her feet, Rorie then hops over his body and runs to the ropes. She then does a hand spring and while upside down, her legs hit the ropes and knock her in the opposite direction, back to her feet. In a fluid motion, Rorie then jumps back into the air with a backflip and lands across Memphis’ body, executing the perfect shining star press.

JOHNSON: “FRANKENSTEELE!!!”

VASSA: “The things I would do to be in Memphis’ shoes right now.”

JOHNSON: “There’s the cover!”

Rorie hooks the leg as the official slides in for the count.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

VASSA: “That’s all she wrote!”

JOHNSON: “This one is in the books ladies and gentlemen!”

“Sex Metal Barbie” hits the speakers as Rorie stands to her feet and the official raises her hand into the air.

POWERS: “Here is your winner by pinfall… RORIE SSTTEEEELLEE!!!”

 

Opening up backstage, the very first thing that the cameras are fixated on is a black door with a sign on it that reads “Mr. Wallace” in bold, white lettering. Walking up to his door, Perry and his several bodyguards who are dressed in black suits go to open the door but as he goes to do so, he is interrupted by Drew Stevenson who is dressed casually; simply waiting for his big match to happen.

WALLACE: “What do you want Stevenson?”

Holding up his hands to show that he wants no trouble, he walks up to Wallace calmly.

STEVENSON: “Hey there man, look, I come in peace – I want no trouble at all, as a matter of fact, your gift is already in your office, waiting for you.”

Motioning to the office door, Wallace has a very strange look on his face, almost as if he doesn’t really believe Stevenson. Grabbing the doorknob very hesitantly, he opens the door and the look on Wallace’s face is priceless. Looking absolutely disgusted, he backs out of the office and begins to throw up as Stevenson is all smiles and laughter. Going into the office, we seen Caitlyn Jenner sitting on Wallace’s desk with her legs open and a giant sensor bar blurring out everything.

STEVENSON: “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you – my lawyer went through my contract very extensively and needless to say, I will be back on Adrenaline. Yeah, I know, it’s not as good as Caitlyn here that you seem to love so much but hey; at least you have me on the main show for a longer period of time; and I have another special treat for you – I’m not coming alone!”

Walking over and slapping Wallace on the back, the bodyguards immediately step in front of Stevenson who holds his hands up again showing that he wants no sign of a war with them. Backing away from Wallace and the bodyguards, poor Wallace continues to gag as Stevenson is all smiles.

WALLACE: “Goddamnit Drew! Are you sure Cashe wasn’t interested in this instead? Get this shitiva out of my office!”

The cameras return ringside to once again find Bethany Bailey waiting on the stage. She stirs up the papers within the tumbler once more before drawing out two names.

BAILEY: “In the next Wasteland Wildcard match, we will see… Whisper versus Jace Savage!”

The crowd cheers and Bethany gives a wave before heading backstage.

 

UNDERCARD
WASTELAND WILDCARD
WHISPER VS. JACE SAVAGE

The lights flicker as the song “Angels Holocaust” by Iced Earth starts to play and Whisper appears, walking out of the curtain. She stands motionless on the stage looking over the booing crowd.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring first by way of New Orleans, Louisiana, weighing in at one hundred thirty-eight pounds… She is “The Archangel of Wrestling,” Whiiispeeer!!!”

She taunts the crowd before slowly and methodically making her way down the ramp and towards the ring, ignoring the boos from the crowd. She slides into the ring looking at all sides before standing up. Inside the ring, she walks to her corner and awaits the sound of the bell.

The arena goes dark as green and gold lights flash across the arena. “My Time” by Fabulous begins to play on the PA system and the crowd starts cheering. The lights come back on and Jace is standing at the top of the entrance ramp. He starts to point at himself with his two thumbs then switches it and starts pointing hiss index fingers at the crowd.

POWERS: “And her opponent, from Los Angeles, California, weighing two hundred and twenty pounds… Jaaace Savaaage!!!”

Jace makes his way to the ring and shakes a few hands before finally reaching the steps. Jace jogs up the stairs and wipes his feet on the apron before entering the ring. Once in the ring Jace walks over to a turn buckle and repeats the motion with his thumbs pointing at himself then his index fingers pointing at the crowd.

GRIFFIN: “This match is guaranteed to be a good one. We have Whisper, who had a spectacular debut at the last show, and the recently returned Jace Savage, who always puts up a strong showing.”

MATTHEWS: “I agree, Demi. When opponents are being drawn at random, strange things can happen, but luck really put together a great one here.”

Both whisper and Jace give a nod to the ref as he checks with them before gesturing to the timekeeper.

DING!!! DING!!!

Savage moves first, dashing across the canvas and leaping up for a running calf kick that catches Whisper across the collar and chest to take her down. He immediately goes for a stomp, but she is quick to roll away and get back to her feet. Whisper lunges in for a chop, but Jace evades and catches her with a European uppercut! Savage goes for a second, but she catches his arm and delivers a forearm shot to the face with the other! Whisper follows with who more and begins to drive him back.

MATTHEWS: “A strong opening volley from Jace Savage, he’s looking good so far.”

GRIFFIN: “But we’ve seen just how tough of an opponent Whisper is. Jace is going to have to stay on the offensive.”

Savage feels himself about to be trapped in the corner and ducks the last incoming forearm, countering with a sit-out spinebuster! Whisper is left holding her back as Jace gets to his feet. Just before he can step out of reach, she grabs his foot and whips him to the mat with a modified dragon screw! Whisper holds on as she gets to her feet, twisting Savage all the way into a Texas cloverleaf! The official kneels next to Jace to see if he wants to tap, but Savage shakes his head. Stretching an arm toward the ropes, his fingers come up several inches short. Jace plants both hands on the mat, struggling as he uses his size advantage to drag himself forward. Whisper attempts to pull him back toward the center of the ring, but Savage grabs the bottom rope!

GRIFFIN: “And the official forces the break. Lucky for Jace he had the strength to move both himself and Whisper.”

MATTHEWS: “Otherwise that might have put an early end to this match!”

As Jace gets to his feet Whisper presses the advantage, looking for a clothesline while he is still off balance. Savage catches her arm and stalls her momentum with a reverse Russian leg sweep! He hops right back up and finds the nearest turnbuckle, climbing to the top as the crowd cheers. The audience goads him on for several seconds as he raises his arms for them to get louder before he leaps off hits an impressive 450 splash! The official slides in as Savage hooks the leg for a pin!

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
KICKOUT!!!

MATTHEWS: “Whisper gets the shoulder up after just two!”

GRIFFIN: “How impressive was that splash, though! You can’t deny the athleticism of Jace Savage.”

Jace keeps his cool as he gets to his feet, not letting the failed attempt get under his skin. He bides his time until Whisper stands before he lunges in, looking for a lariat. Whisper uses his own momentum against him and drills him into the mat with a snap scoop slam! The two are on their feet almost at the same time and Savage fires back with a standing dropkick that sends Whisper stumbling into the turnbuckles! Backing across the ring, Jace runs in for a corner splash… but she ducks out of the way at the last second! Savage falls to the mat from the impact and Whisper immediately begins stomping away at his chest and midsection! Savage manages to catch her leg and shove her back. She comes in again as he’s getting to his feet, but he thinks quick and hits a jawbreaker!

GRIFFIN: “Look at the determination they both have! No matter what they throw at each other, they both keep coming back!”

MATTHEWS: “Jace has lost two in a row now, and he wants to put an end to that. Meanwhile Whisper wants to stay on top. Here on a platform like Winter Wasteland, the stakes are even higher.”

Jace presses the attack as Whisper is still shaking out the cobwebs from the jawbreaker, but she recovers just in time and catches him with a spinning heel kick! Whisper grabs his forearms and sends him to the ropes, looking for a diving clothesline, but he comes up short and hits her with a kitchen sink! She still gets back to her feet and grabs his arm again, this time whipping him toward the corner! She immediately flips forward, looking for a handspring elbow! Savage hits the corner and hops up to rebound off of the center turnbuckle, flying back with a superman punch!!!

MATTHEWS: “Savage Punch!”

GRIFFIN: “What a shot! I think Whisper is out!”

The ref swoops in as Jace makes the cover.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THREE!!!

Savage throws both arms in the air as he stands and the official signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: “And here is your winner… Jaaace Saaavaaage!!!”

GRIFFIN: “What an amazing match. These two put on one hell of a show.”

MATTHEWS: “Both Jace and Whisper have quickly proven to be assets to the Fate roster, and we can continue to expect big things from both of them.”

 

Kat had just taken her fingerless gloves off when a clapping sound near the door of her locker room made her turn around. Her mentor Whisper stood there with a smile on her face.

WHISPER: “Well done Kat.. I am proud of you, you fought well tonight.”

JONES: “Could have done better..”

WHISPER: “You did good and in the end it matters in how you are remembered.. You never backed away from a challenge I gave you before… So I have one for you now.”

JONES: “And what challenge would that be?”

WHISPER: “You become a champion this year… Think of it as your new years resolution if you must.. But the challenge remains the same.”

Kat smirked and slowly tilted her head to the side that wicked unpredictable side of her shining through in her dark eyes.

JONES: “Consider that challenge….. Accepted”

Kat stepped forward and both raven haired females clasped each others forearm while staring straight into the others eyes.. Slowly a wicked smile came over both their faces before Whisper released Kat and left the locker room with Kat watching her go

 

 

UNDERCARD
EXTREME RULES
DARRYL WALLACE VS. MAGNUS BRUTUS

 

“Window” by Let Go plays as the arena pulses with white light along with the guitar riff. As the opening line begins Darryl walks through the curtain with a focused and determined look on his face.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from the open road, weighing in at two hundred sixty-five pounds… ‘Dirty’ DARRYL WWAALLLLAACCEE!!!”

Darryl stands at the ready bouncing back and forth loosening up. As the Chorus begins he puts his hands up in a boxing pose and throws a few shadow punches before pulling his arms back like a window is opening and pushes his face forward with a goofy smile. He walks towards the ring with a smile, slapping hands and posing for selfies with fans before sliding into the ring. He stands at the center of the ring, spinning in circles with his arms in the air, hands balled into fists. After about three rotations he stops and shakes his head to try to cancel out being dizzy.

And then the heavy guitar riff of The Misfits’ “Kong At The Gates” begins to hammer out over the arena’s PA system. There are no fancy lights or pyro, just a calling by the music that something awful is about to happen. After a couple of the thundering drums sound out from the back steps out the ancient one himself, the man who walks from town to town leaving carnage behind him, the monstrous Magnus Brutus himself.

POWERS: “And his opponent, from Portland, Oregon, weighing in at two hundred sixty-six pounds… MAGNUS BBRRUUTTUUSS!!!”

The man is dressed in a pair wrestling pants which are blue and darker blue and look as if they haven’t been changed in probably twenty years. His wrists are taped and they match his wrestling pants and he has an even dirtier look on his face, at his side is the young and redheaded Phoebe who is wearing a short and flowing white nurse’s outfit complete with hat on her head. The two make their way to the ring before Magnus climbs into it, leaving Phoebe on the outside.

VASSA: “Good! It’s finally time for some more blood! I was starting to get bored.”

JOHNSON: “How could you possibly be bored, Vinny?! This is Winter Wasteland!”

DING!!! DING!!!

The opening bell sounds after a quick check with both men by the official. Magnus lumbers out of his corner first but Darryl isn’t far behind. The two meet in the middle of the ring, instantly beginning to trade blows. Wallace fires off a rapid series of forearm shots into Brutus’ grizzled muzzle before Magnus throws his forehead right into Darryl’s face! Brutus grabs Wallace’s head with his left hand, beginning to drive his right fist into Darryl’s head over and over again.

Wallace finally manages to break free with a throat chop, shaking his head and trying to clear out the cobwebs. Magnus closes in again, grabbing Darryl’s head once more. This time he runs Wallace toward the corner, preparing to smash him face first into the turnbuckles at full speed. Darryl catches the ropes before his face can make contact, countering with a reverse DDT! Wallace pops back to his feet and launches into a series of brutal stomps that hit Brutus in the chest and stomach over and over again. He finishes off the volley by leaping up into the air and dropping a knee right into Magnus’ face!

Brutus rolls away and gets to his feet, glaring daggers across the ring at the younger wrestler. Wallace looks cocky and confident as ever. They circle one another once before Darryl lunges in. He throws a stiff kick into Magnus’ gut, and when the big man doubles over, he’s met with a European uppercut to the jaw! As Brutus stumbles backward, Wallace hits the ropes for some extra momentum and flies toward his opponent for a lariat. Magnus ducks as Darryl comes in and scoops him up off of the ground! With a wicked sneer, Brutus flings Wallace back over his head with a fallaway slam, all the way over the ropes and to the floor outside the ring!

JOHNSON: “Oh my god! Darryl just bounced off of the floor like a rag doll!”

VASSA: “Well he’d better get up, because Magnus is coming for him!”

Magnus climbs over the ropes and hops down off of the apron, grabbing Darryl by the hair and pulling him to his feet, only to smash his face against the guardrail! Without letting go, Brutus pulls Wallace back up, his forehead split open and blood running from the wound. Magnus turns and smashes Darryl’s face against the ring apron! Brutus drags Wallace to the announcer’s table, hauling his head back good and far before sending it flying toward the table. But Darryl catches himself on the table before his face makes contact! He takes a fistful of Magnus’ hair, punching him in the gut with the other hand before slamming him down on the table!

Darryl grabs the coffee mug from in front of Johnson and smashes it into the back of Magnus’ head. The ceramic shatters, cutting open Brutus’ scalp and send scalding hot coffee everywhere! Wallace grabs the tablet computer from in front of Vinny next, holding it with both hands before he brings it crashing down into the back of Magnus’s head once… twice! Three times before the tablet breaks in half!!!

Wallace leaves Brutus draped prone across the announcer’s booth as he turns and climbs up onto the ring apron. He gets a running start from one side of the ring, leaps off, and hits a guillotine leg drop across the back of Magnus’ neck as he lands! Miraculously, the table doesn’t collapse beneath the weight of the two men. Brutus slumps off to the ground and Darryl rolls off of the table, hooking the leg and going for a pin.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
KICKOUT!!!

VASSA: “Thank GOD! I am not ready for this match to be over. It hasn’t even gotten good yet.”

JOHNSON: “It hasn’t gotten good? Both men are bleeding and your new tablet is destroyed, what do you mean?!”

VASSA: “Just watch, Steve. The real action is about to begin, I can feel it!”

Magnus grabs Darryl by the throat before he can get away, hurling him through the air and into the barricade. Brutus gets to his feet, heedless of his bleeding head and the coffee soaking his hair. Magnus closes in on Wallace, rolling him onto his back with one foot before he jumps up and hits a double stomp to the chest! Darryl practically deflates from the force, showing very little signs of movement afterward.

Brutus turns to the ring, flipping up the apron cover and beginning to pull out various foreign objects from beneath; A chair, a kendo stick, a trash can lid, a sledge hammer, a two-by-four… The pile of weapons grows and grows as Magnus keeps digging. Finally he finds what he was after, a tire iron. Brutus rounds on Darryl, who is still on the floor, and lifts the tire iron above his head with both hands. With a demented grin he swings it down with all of his might. A huge CLANG echoes through the arena as Darryl rolls to the side just in time to avoid having his skull cracked.

Wallace twists and grabs a chair from the pile of weapons, holding it up like a shield as the tire iron comes sailing toward his head again. The sound of metal on metal is earsplitting, the reverberations sending Brutus back just a step. Darryl takes advantage and swings the chair right into the side of Magnus’ leg, driving him further away. Wallace is on one knee by the time Brutus closes in again, lifting the chair and snapping it shut on Magnus’ hand, using it to strip the tire iron away! With Brutus’ hand still trapped, Darryl drives the back of the chair into his opponents face, busting open his nose with a fountain of blood!

JOHNSON: “Quick thinking by Darryl Wallace. If he hadn’t gotten that tire iron away from Magnus, I’m not sure he would have survived the match.”

VASSA: “But he may have just pissed Magnus off with that last shot. It may have been a mistake!”

Brutus rips the chair out of Darryl’s hands with it still closed around his own arm, swinging it back at the other man wildly. Wallace ducks back just in time to avoid being hit and then continues retreating backwards as Magnus stalks after him. Brutus finally shakes the chair off, leaving it behind on the floor as he hunts Darryl down. Wallace snatches up the upper portion of the steel stairs, throwing them into Magnus’ face! Brutus catches them just before they make impact, but Darryl is already moving, hitting a running dropkick that smashes the steel into Magnus’ already bleeding nose and mouth!

Brutus collapses to the floor from the impact, but Wallace leaves him there! Darryl flips up the apron cover himself and begins hauling out some goodies of his own, including another pair of chairs and something flat, wrapped in a loose cloth. He slides them all into the ring and rolls in under the bottom rope himself. Wallace sets up the two chairs first, facing them toward each other. He picks up the third object, pulling the cloth away and revealing it to be a pane of glass, which he lays across the seats of the chairs to form a bridge!

Just as Darryl finishes up, Magnus is rolling into the ring. Wallace flies in for a stiff elbow that catches Brutus on the jaw, trying to drive him backward. Magnus swats away his arm after a third strike and grabs Darryl’s hair again with the other. Brutus drags Wallace bodily across the ring, preparing to smash his face right through the pane of glass! Darryl throws a wild elbow into Magnus’ gut and breaks free just in time! Wallace follows with a kick, doubling Brutus over again.

Darryl tuck’s Magnus’ head and hooks one arm up. Before he can get the other, Brutus drives a hammer fist right into his kidney! Wallace winces, but doesn’t let go! He grabs Magnus’ other arm, straining, and then flips him upward into position for a powerbomb! Brutus throws his fists into Darryl’s head over and over. Wallace stumbles backward a step. For a moment it looks as though his legs are going to buckle. With a surge of strength, he steps forward and lifts Magnus by the trunks, powerbombing him through the pain of glass and sending shards flying!

VASSA: “YES!!!”

JOHNSON: “MY GOD!!! There’s glass in Magnus, glass in Darryl, maybe even glass in the front row!”

VASSA: “They’ve got souvenirs!”

Wallace all but collapses on top of Brutus, not quite hooking the leg.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: “Magnus kicked out! I don’t know how, but Magnus kicked out!”

VASSA: “The show isn’t over!”

Darryl looks astonished, arguing vehemently with the official as the ref tells him over and over again that he only got a two count. Wallace leaves the big man in a pile of glass and puddle of blood as he rolls out of the ring, once more digging beneath. He drags out a long sheet of plywood that is heavily wrapped in barbed wire! The barbs catch on the mat several times as Darryl shoves it into the ring and climbs back in after.

Checking over his shoulder to make sure Brutus is still down, Wallace sets up the plywood vertically in the corner, wedging it tight against the ropes. He stalks back over to Magnus, reaching down and grabbing him by the hair. Brutus lashes out with huge fist, catching Darryl right on the side of the head and sending him reeling! Wallace has barely recovered as Magnus gets to his feet, snatching up one of the chairs and clapping it shut. Darryl turns to avoid taking the chair to the face, and the metal comes crashing down across his back instead! Wallace goes down on his hands and knees and Brutus slams the chair into him a second time!

Magnus hefts the chair once more, completely over his head. Darryl’s arm lashes out, scooping up a handful of glass and throwing it into Brutus’ face! The chair clatters to the mat as Magnus stumbles backward. Wallace picks it up and the official barely manages to dodge as Darryl slams the chair across Brutus’ back, then into the side of his leg, into his shoulder, into his other leg! Magnus has gone down on one knee! Wallace smashes the chair into Brutus’ shoulder a second time, and then lifts it overhead to bring crashing down onto Magnus’ head.

But Brutus surges forward! He drives a shoulder right into Darryl’s gut and pushes him back. The chair tumbles out of Wallace’s hand! Darryl drives his elbow down into Magnus’ spine over and over, trying to wear him down. Brutus gives Wallace a hard shove, and then a hard chop across the chest! Darryl teeters. Magnus dives forward with a spear and drives Wallace back into the barbed-wire wrapped plywood! The wood and Darryl both buckle in half with a sickening crunch!

VASSA: “I think Magnus Brutus just destroyed Darryl Wallace!”

JOHNSON: “Wallace and Brutus are both bleeding everywhere! Magnus still has glass in his back!”

Magnus slowly stands, reaching down to grab the foot of Darryl. He drags Wallace out of the corner, raking his flesh over the tangled barbed wire and through the broken glass as he does. Brutus practically throws Wallace’s foot to the ground, preparing to drop for a pin, but Darryl rolls onto his side immediately! Magnus goes for a brutal stomp aimed right at Darryl’s head, but he rolls away from that as well!

Wallace rolls out of the ring entirely, barely managing to land on his feet. Brutus is hot on his heels. Wallace snatches up the trash can lid that had been pulled out earlier and turns just in time to use it as a shield against an incoming punch! Magnus’ fist dents the lid slightly, but he’s left shaking out his hand from the impact. Wallace hits a roundhouse to gut and then brings the trashcan lid down across Brutus’ back, driving him to the floor.

Darryl lays into the big man with stomp after stomp to the stomach, chest, and face until Magnus has stopped moving! Wallace wipes some of the blood from his forehead on the back of his arm before he bends over, laying the trashcan lid right across Brutus’ face. With a twisted grin, Darryl backs up several feet, running forward and leaping into the air, coming down for a double stomp that lands on the trash can lid, folding it around Magnus’ face! Wallace makes the cover!

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: “HOW?! How did Magnus kick out after that brutal assault?!”

VASSA: “What does his face even look like under there now?!”

Looking half-dead but enraged, Wallace rolls back to his feet and heads once more to the pile of weapons from earlier. He picks up the two-by-four, taking a few test swings with it. Brutus has started to move, shoving the bent trash can lid off of his face. Blood coats almost every inch of skin from his hair to his beard. Magnus sways slightly when he gets to his feet.

Darryl instantly presses the advantage. He swings the wooden weapon into Brutus’ side with a crack. Magnus hunches slightly from the impact, stepping backward to avoid another incoming swing. Wallace is undeterred and swings again, hitting Brutus in the same spot on the ribs. He feints a third shot, and when Magnus flinches, he drives the two-by-four straight forward into Brutus’ gut instead! Darryl is sneering from ear to ear as he places a hand on either end of the board, preparing to charge forward and smash it across Magnus’ face.

Wallace rushes in, and right into a big boot to the gut! Darryl keeps a death grip on the two-by-four as Magnus tries to rip it away. Brutus instantly changes tactics, hooking up one of Wallace’s arms while Darryl is still bent over! He hooks the second, which brings the board up tight across Wallace’s own face! The crowd explodes as Magnus falls backwards and lifts his knees, driving both of them into the board and Darryl’s face together!!!

VASSA: “Paroxysm with the two-by-four to Darryl!!!

JOHNSON: “Oh my GOD! That was just… barbaric!”

VASSA: “And there’s the pin attempt!”

The referee slides in as Magnus hooks Darryl’s leg.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

“Kong at the Gates” hits the PA system once more as Brutus slowly gets to his feet, not allowing the referee to raise his hand, instead doing it himself.

POWERS: “And here is your winner… Maaagnuus Bruutuuus!!!”

WALLACE: “Get that piece of shit in here!”

Standing in an empty locker room, Perry Wallace waits alone as two men dressed in black suits escort Tommy Knox into the room. Holding Knox in place, the two men secure his arms while Wallace paces back and forth, shaking his head in displeasure.

KNOX: “You could have ju–“

Wallace then swings with all of his might, punching Knox in the stomach.

WALLACE: “Shut up!”

Catching his breath, Knox spits onto the floor before looking back up at Wallace.

WALLACE: “You set me up. Those ‘bikers’ I hired for ‘security’ weren’t worth a fuck! I know you handed Unstable the keys, better yet, I know you basically opened the goddamn door for them to attack me in my sleep… AT MY HOME!!!”

KNOX: “It’s a hotel.”

WALLACE: “SHUT UP!!! You’re fucking finished in this business! I don’t need you. Any mother fucker with street cred can do your fucking job. You fucked up Tommy-boy.”

KNOX: “You should have listened to them…”

Wallace then draws back his fist, breathing heavily. After hesitating for a brief moment, he thinks to himself before stepping back and lowering his arm.

WALLACE: “I’m trying to keep my cool. This is my goddamn night! Get him the fuck out of here! You’re fired Knox! You disloyal, bitch made, fool ass punk!”

KNOX: “That’s a pretty good movie you’re quoting there.”

WALLACE: “Get this piece of shit out of my sight.”

The two men then drag Knox out of the room and proceed to escort him down the hall, leaving Wallace by himself in the room.

WALLACE: “YOU’RE FUCKING FINISHED!!!”

This time as the cameras return to the stage, the tumbler is absent and Bethany holds the final two pieces of paper in her hands.

BAILEY: “All the Fate fans who have been paying attention so far should already know what I’m about to say. For the fourth and final Wasteland Wildcard match, we are down to… Tanya Black versus El Futuro!”

The audience breaks into cheers for both wrestlers as Bethany heads backstage.

 

UNDERCARD
WASTELAND WILDCARD
TANYA BLACK VS. EL FUTURO

The video screen lights up with beautiful images of Angels though all their wings are black mixed with footage of Tanya Black wrestling as we hear the opening of “City Of Heroes” by Kiske & Somerville. After a moment out emerges Tanya Black causing a big pop from the audience.

POWERS: “Introducing first, from Albuquerque, New Mexico, weighing in at one hundred and fifty pounds… She is “The Sinful Angel,” Tanyaaa Blaaack!!!”

Waving to the fans and shaking a few hands she takes her time getting to the ring, all smiles and upon entering the ring does a dance for the fans before mounting each turnbuckle in turn and bowing in respect to the audience as the song winds down. Once the song ends Tanya Black faces the center of the ring and stretches out her neck and shoulders.

“Smoke Every Day” by Brown Shady plays over the speakers as red, white, and green lights begin flashing in sync.

POWERS: “And introducing her opponent, from Acapulco, Mexico, weighing in at two hundred ten pounds… Eeel Fuutuurooo!!!”

El Futuro runs out from behind the curtain and sprints down to the ring. Sliding underneath the bottom rope, he then goes to each corner and stands at the top, saluting the crowd.

MATTHEWS: “The random pairings in the Wasteland Wildcard have put together another good match with this one. I don’t know how well it was received in the locker room, but Bethany’s idea has really made for a great series so far.”

GRIFFIN: “For sure. Tanya Black has been tenacious since her arrival at Fate and El Futuro is a crowd favorite who has been with the second show practically from the beginning. They both came up a little short in the go-home show and are looking to make a big impact here at Winter Wasteland.”

Tanya and Futuro both give a quick nod to the referee before he signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

The lightning quick luchador makes the first move, sailing out of his corner and looking for a flying crossbody, but Black is ready and uses gravity in her favor for a snap scoop slam straight out of the air! Undeterred, El Futuro is back on his feet with a roundhouse kick that sends Tanya stumbling. Black catches herself on the ropes and turns just as Futuro is lunging in for a big clothesline to send her over the top. Tanya ducks out of the way at the last second and the masked man hangs up on the top rope just long enough for her to get a quick roll up pin!

ONE!
.
.
TW—KICKOUT!!!

GRIFFIN: “Not quite a full two as Tanya goes for an early pin, taking advantage of every opportunity.”

MATTHEWS: “A smart move on Tanya’s part, but El Futuro still has plenty of fire left.”

El Futuro rolls out of the pin and straight toward the ropes in a somersaulting motion, springing up as he hits the mat. His feet barely seem to brush the top rope before he changes direction and flies backward catch Tanya with a springboard moonsault! They both hit the mat hard, but both get back up with determination. Black shakes out the cobwebs and keeps her eyes glued to Futuro. Black is ready as he closes in and pivots around to take him down with a reverse neckbreaker! Futuro holds his head and neck as he rolls away, avoiding an incoming stomp. Tanya stalks after him, reaching down to pull him up by the mask, but El Futuro sends her reeling with a forearm to the face!

MATTHEWS: “Black and Futuro both continuing to hold their own here, stalling each other’s momentum at every turn.”

GRIFFIN: “That top rope moonsault from El Futuro was as perfect as it gets, but somehow Tanya got right back up.”

MATTHEWS: “You could say the same about the neckbreaker from Tanya, and El Futuro still had the presence of mind to not allow her to lock him up.”

Futuro has time to get to his feet as Black recovers, but as soon as he does, she’s on him again. Tanya slowly but surely drives El Futuro toward the corner with a brutal volley of chops across the chest. The man in the mask collides with the turnbuckles and Black nails him right in the midsection with a shoulder thrust. After a headbutt from Tanya, Futuro sags to the mat in the corner. Black backs half-way across the ring before sprinting in and hitting a diving double knee to his chest!

GRIFFIN: “Ouch! I think Tanya Black just knocked the wind right out of El Futuro.”

MATTHEWS: “Look at him holding his chest, I think you’re right! Could Tanya have just tipped the scales of the match?”

Black backs across the ring a second time and charges in, looking for a bronco buster, but Futuro surges to his feet and counters with an inverted atomic drop! Tanya staggers from the impact, but El Futuro is relentless, immediately hooking her head for a snap DDT that rattles the ring! With Black prone on the mat, Futuro climbs the nearest turnbuckle, pumping up the crowd before leaping off for a flying elbow drop! The referee swoops in as Futuro hooks the leg.

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THR—KICKOUT!!!

MATTHEWS: “Tanya got the shoulder up!”

GRIFFIN: “Black had all the momentum, then Futuro stopped her in her tracks. But after all that, she still kicked out!”

MATTHEWS: “It just goes to show you how much they both want this victory!”

As soon as they are on their feet, Futuro closes in again. He hits a hook kick to the side of Tanya’s leg! He follows with a quick snap to the other side! In the blink of an eye he pivots and dashes toward the ropes.

GRIFFIN: “El Futuro is going for the Red, White, and Green!”

Futuro comes flying back with a springboard dropkick, but Black steps out of the way just in time! As the man in the mask starts to stand, Tanya runs to the ropes herself, bouncing off of the second one. El Futuro turns just as she catches him with the Divine Kiss!!! Black hooks the legs!

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THREE!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

MATTHEWS: “Tanya Black has done it! She defeated El Futuro!”

Black leaps to her feet as “City of Heroes” fills the Staples Center. The referee takes her wrist and raises her hand in victory.

POWERS: “And here is your winner… Tanyaaa Blaaack!!!”

 

The production cuts backstage and we find Gabriel Hartman standing idly by. He’s quick to pull the microphone up towards his lips and addresses the audience watching.

HARTMAN: “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m standing by, directly outside the locker of the Unstable… hoping to get a word with Chris Madison before his big 4CW Pride Championship match later on tonight in the main event. No one has seen or heard from Chris since he arrived at the arena early in the afternoon.”

As if on cue, the door slowly opened and Frankie Morrison snuck out of the slight opening. He tugged on the lapels to his tailor made suit and looked over Gabriel Hartman with disgust.

MORRISON: “How long have you been standing outside this door?”

HARTMAN: “Not long… Just got here. I was hoping to get a moment of Chris’s time.”

Frankie laughed instantly at Hartman’s request.

MORRISON: “You want to get a word with Chris? You obviously don’t know him as well as I do. Go ahead Gabe. I’ll hold the door for you so you can go in there and bother the man as he mentally prepares himself to take the 4CW Pride Championship away from Jett Wilder.”

Frankie grabs the handle of the door and watches as Hartman freezes where he stands.

MORRISON: “Well what are you waiting for?”

HARTMAN: “I don’t want to be a bother…”

MORRISON: “That would be very smart Gabe. You see Chris isn’t the kind of guy who’s waste valuable time trying to sell you why he’s going to be the next 4CW Pride Champion. He goes to that ring and whether you love him or hate him, you can’t deny that he takes care of business.”

HARTMAN: “Take care of business he has. If he wins tonight that will mark his eleventh straight win since joining the company, tying The Red Pioneer’s record start.”

MORRISON: “Yeah… What are you trying to get at?”

HARTMAN: “Well that kind of added pressure to a championship match has to be weighing down on him…”

MORRISON: “That’s what you were going to ask Chris? Do you have a death wish? One of the big reasons Chris has always had so much success over his career, he doesn’t let stress get to him. Chris has always taken his career one match at a time. Tonight is no different. Some how Jett Wilder is the 4CW Pride Champion and, well, Chris wants his belt. The fact that this is the eleventh match Chris is competing in since joining 4CW is just a lucky coincidence. Chris gets to kill two birds with one stone…”

HARTMAN: “Is that confidence or arrogance?”

Once again Frankie laughed at Gabriel.

MORRISON: “I guess we’ll see who’s holding the 4CW Pride Championship at the end of the night and you’ll have the answer to your question… Now if you’ll excuse me.”

Morrison shoulders his way passed Gabriel as he unbuttons his suit jacket. Morrison walks away from Hartman, leaving him alone in front of the Unstable’s locker room door. Hartman looks at the door for a moment, contemplating entering before he walks away and the production cuts away.

 

 

 

 

UNDERCARD
BRYAN LAUGHLIN VS. JAIR HOPKINS

JOHNSON: “Well if Winter Wasteland hasn’t been exciting enough already tonight, we’ve got the kind of match coming up that could quietly steal the show!”

VASSA: “Is it time for Stevenson and O’Connor?”

JOHNSON: “No Vinny, we still have that a bit later on. Up next Jair Hopkins takes on promising newcomer, Bryan Laughlin!”

VASSA: “I like that Laughlin kid.”

JOHNSON: “Had a tough debut against Aidan Carlisle just a few weeks ago but was impressive in defeat.”

VASSA: “It’s not getting any easier tonight…”

JOHNSON: “You’re absolutely right Vinny. Jair Hopkins seems to have found his groove as of late, knocking off two members of the Unstable at back to back Adrenaline’s.”

VASSA: “That is pretty impressive…”

JOHNSON: “Let’s see if he can keep the momentum rolling his way here tonight.”

The heavy opening guitar riff from “Out of My Mind” by Mushroomhead hits over the speakers as a slight fog grows around the curtain and Bryan Laughlin emerges walking slowly. His trademark “LAUGH-LIN” Run DMC Style shirt on he nods his head to the music and acknowledges the fans before dropping his head taking a deep breath and breaking out into a sprint towards the ring.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California by way of Cleveland, Ohio! Weighing in at two hundred twenty five pounds and standing six feet, two inches tall, “The Ripper”, BRYAN LAUGHLIN!!!”

Approaching the ring he slides in and gets to his knees throwing his head back and his arms out allowing the fans to acknowledge him back. He quickly hops to his feet mouthing the lyrics.

“Judge me for what I am
The passage of death
You don’t play, you don’t win
You change nothing
You gain nothing
Everybody’s out from here on in”

He backs into the nearest corner taking off his shirt and throwing it behind him out of the ring as his music slowly fades.

JOHNSON: “Laughlin looks like he means business tonight…”

The lights grow dim as there are now red and white lights blinking in mix speeds…

“How many start a journey, but never see the end
I never ask how, conceive it then speak in whens
A man will work his whole life to see his ego shed
I sew it up needle head all I need is thread
A team can only take it as far as its strongest leader
The streets are red, runnin with the blood of non-believers”

As “Fate” by Ces Cru came in, Hopkins appeared from the back as his appearance drew a large amount of cheers. Those who remained on the other side of the fence tried to wash out the sounds of the loud cheers but they remained strong. The soft-white spotlight followed Hopkins as he slowly made his way to the ramp and down it, arms out wide as he takes the moment all in.

POWERS: “From the “Concrete Jungle” in Brooklyn, New York, he stands at five feet, eight inches and weighs in at two hundred eight pounds, JAIR HHOOPPKKIINNSS!!!”

“I’m out for action what the fuck are y’all about relaxin’?
They can doubt my sanity but never doubt my passion
And I don’t know why they deceive us, feed us lies mislead us
He who denies what he has seen is worse than blind believers
I just play the cards the way they’re dealt”

The lights come back to normal as Hopkins continues on, he goes left, going down the ramp as he slaps all the hands that are reaching out. Looking to his right, he goes up and does the same on the right side, getting them all as well. He finally makes it all the way down and with a speed burst, he rolls underneath the bottom ring ropes as he gets to his feet and immediately climbs the nearest turnbuckle. Dropping down soon after, he moves around the ring as he waits for the match to begin.

VASSA: “As good as Hopkins is, I think Laughlin’s not going to let himself lose both of his first two matches in 4CW.”

JOHNSON: “I don’t think it’s wise to underestimate Jair Hopkins. He is a former 4CW Champion and is a name that always is in the conversation for any title match.”

The official moves to the center of the ring and signals to both competitors before calling for the opening bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

As the opening bell rings, Bryan Laughlin charges across the ring and hits Hopkins with a running forearm shot. Hopkins falls backwards into the corner, leaning against the turnbuckles for support. Laughlin unloads with a combination of rights and lefts before coming across his chest with a stiff knife edged chop! Hopkins covers up instantly as he stumbles out of the corner and walks along the ropes. Laughlin grabs Hopkins by the arm and whips him across the ring. Hopkins rebounds off of the and gets taken out by a jumping double knee strike! Hopkins falls to the mat and instinctively rolls under the ropes.

Laughlin climbs out onto the apron and lines up Hopkins. He runs across the apron and tries for a soccer kick. Hopkins dodges and counters by pulling Laughlin down by his leg. Laughlin bounces back first off of the apron and rolls to the ring floor. Hopkins quickly jumps towards Laughlin, planting his feet into his midsection while grabbing him by the back of the head, and flips him over with a monkey flip. Hopkins climbs to his feet and picks Laughlin up by his head. He rolls Laughlin back into the ring and follows pursuit.

Hopkins lifts Laughlin up to his feet and whips him across the ring towards the ropes. On the rebound, Laughlin ducks underneath a clothesline attempt and stops dead in his tracks. He quickly turns and grabs Laughlin with a rear waist lock. The two jockey for position as Laughlin lifts Hopkins up off of the ground. Hopkins throws all of his weight forward and rolls Laughlin up with a victory roll! The official slides into position and begins to count.

ONE
.
.
TW–

Laughlin uses his leg strength to kick out and send Hopkins forward, bouncing off of the canvass.

JOHNSON: “And that is part of what makes Hopkins so dangerous. He could have just scooped up the win that quickly with that counter.”

VASSA: “But he didn’t and the match is still on. So let’s not count Laughlin out just yet.”

Hopkins pushes up to his feet but Bryan Laughlin is right on him. Laughlin momentarily locks in a sleeper hold before falling down and slamming Hopkins’ back of the head against the canvass. Laughlin rolls Hopkins away from the ropes and quickly comes crashing down on his chest with a jumping double foot stomp! Laughlin then stalks his opponent, allowing for Hopkins to climb to his feet. Hopkins throws a right hand but Laughlin blocks it and traps it against his side. Hopkins throws a left and the result is the same. With both of Hopkins’ arms trapped, Laughlin unloads with a series of headbutts. Laughlin releases and shakes off his head before grabbing a staggering Hopkins and turning him around with a belly to belly suplex!

Laughlin transitions from the belly to belly suplex and locks in a dragon sleeper on Jair Hopkins! Hopkins tries to reach for the ropes with his free hand but is just a bit short. Beginning to fade, Hopkins tries to extend his foot towards the ropes but Laughlin drags him away and towards the center of the ring. Hopkins bridges his body, forcing Laughlin to stand up. Hopkins uses his core strength and flips up over Laughlin, reversing the scenario. Hopkins drives Laughlin down with a reverse DDT and hooks a leg for the cover.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.

Laughlin shoots his shoulder off of the mat as the officials hand was on the way down for the three count.

JOHNSON: “What a counter by Jair Hopkins!”

VASSA: “I don’t think Laughlin saw that coming. But it’s going to take more than a reverse DDT to keep down Bryan Laughlin!”

JOHNSON: “Hopkins has more than that in his arsenal… ”

Hopkins and Laughlin both rise to their feet together. Laughlin hits Hopkins with a stiff chop across the chest and Hopkins counters with a hard right hand. Hopkins grabs Laughlin by the wrist and whips him towards the corner. Laughlin spins and counters, sending Hopkins towards the corner. Hopkins leaps up onto the middle rope and then does a backflip over Laughlin as he steadily approaches. Laughlin turns towards Hopkins and gets lifted onto his shoulders before being slammed to the canvass with a samoan drop! Laughlin bounces off of the mat and stumbles to his feet. Hopkins snaps him back down with a snapmare takedown and circles around him before connecting with a dropkick to the back of the neck. Hopkins moves towards Laughlin’s head and comes crashing down with a jumping leg drop. He rolls onto Laughlin and hooks his leg.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.

Laughlin bucks his hips and rolls Hopkins off of him.

JOHNSON: “Hopkins using his speed and athleticism to turn things around on a dime; part of what makes him so dangerous.”

VASSA: “Laughlin is going to have to find a way to ground Hopkins if he doesn’t want to come up short again.”

Hopkins pulls Laughlin up to his feet and gets elbowed in the get for his troubles. Laughlin locks in a side headlock and is backed up against the ropes. Hopkins pushes Laughlin off and sends him across the ring. Laughlin bounces off and charges towards Hopkins. Hopkins drops down, allowing Laughlin to keep running the ropes. Hopkins pops to his feet and jumps up for a leap frog. On the return, Laughlin catches Hopkins mid air and flips him to the canvass with an overhead belly to belly suplex!

Laughlin rolls onto his knees and watches as Hopkins tucks himself under the bottom rope and lays on the ring apron. Laughlin patiently watches as Hopkins climbs up to his feet with the use of the ropes. Laughlin catches Hopkins with a stiff forearm, temporarily dazing Hopkins on his feet. Laughlin spins Hopkins around and locks in a full nelson before flipping him back into the ring and dumping him onto his he head and neck! Laughlin hooks Hopkins’s leg for the cover.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THR–

Hopkins got a foot on the bottom rope and the ref saw it before counting to three.

JOHNSON: “What a move by Bryan Laughlin! A modified version of Dump’d”

Laughlin stands up and questions the referee’s count. While arguing, Hopkins gets up to one knee and holds onto the middle rope with one hand. Laughlin turns back to Hopkins who grabs him by the front of his trunks, sending him tumbling through the ropes and to the outside of the ring. Hopkins runs across the ring and comes fast towards Laughlin who’s standing against the ring apron. Hopkins hits a baseball slide that sends Laughlin crashing backwards into the security railing. Hopkins gets to his feet and grabs the top rope, watching as Laughlin staggers away from the railing. Hopkins sends himself over the top rope with a somersault and catches Laughlin with his legs on the way down, flipping him over with a hurricanrana! Hopkins rolls and ends up with his back against the railing and the crowd roars!

“HOLY-SHIT! HOLY-SHIT! HOLY-SHIT!”

Hopkins rolls Laughlin back into the ring and follows right behind him. He scoops him up and drops him back down with a scoop slam. Hopkins climbs to the top rope, facing out towards the crowd. He flips backwards looking for a moonsault but Laughlin rolls out of the way. Hopkins lands on his feet and watches as Laughlin pushes to his feet. Hopkins waits until Laughlin spins towards him and catches him with a boot to the gut. He then quickly lifts Laughlin into the air with his Bread N’ Butter spinning reverses facebuster! Hopkins sits on Laughlin’s chest and pulls one of his legs up for the cover.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THR–

Laughlin shoves Hopkins off and rolls onto his stomach.

JOHNSON: “That was hands down the closest pinfall we’ve seen so far throughout this match.”

VASSA: “And what does that tell you about Bryan Laughlin. This kid is not just going to roll over and die. He want’s this win just as badly as Jair Hopkins.”

Hopkins picks Laughlin up and whips him towards the corner. Laughlin counters and sends Hopkins instead. Laughlin charges and gets caught with a jumping enziguri. Hopkins turns and hops over the top rope before climbing to the top turnbuckle. Laughlin is out on his feet as Hopkins comes flying off of the top rope with a diving crossbody! Hopkins locks onto Laughlin’s arm and rolls him over, cinching in a fujiwara armbar! Hopkins pulls back Laughlin’s arm, trying to tear it from it’s socket. Laughlin inches forward, reaching for the ropes but is too far to grab it. Laughlin pushes up to his hands and knees and rolls Hopkins back into a crucifix. Hopkins rolls through it before the ref could count. Both competitors get to their feet and Hopkins jumps up to hit a standing high knee. Laughlin catches him and dumps him backwards with a modified t-bone suplex.

Laughlin watches from his hands and knees as Hopkins pulls himself back up to his feet. Laughlin explodes to his feet as Hopkins stands and turns towards him. Laughlin lifts Hopkins onto his shoulders with a fireman’s carry. Laughlin spins Hopkins in the air and drops him down across his knees with a gutbuster, a move he calls GMA! Laughlin flips Hopkins onto his back and hooks both legs for the cover.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

JOHNSON: “Laughlin has done it!”

VASSA: “Laughlin just beat a former 4CW Champion…”

The ref grabs Laughlin by the wrist and raises his arm above his head as “Out of My Mind” by Mushroomhead begins to blare over the PA system.

POWERS: “And your winner… by way of pinfall… BRYAN LLAAUUGGHHLLIINN!!!”

 

Following the match between Jair Hopkins and Bryan Laughlin, 4CW cameras cut to the backstage area. Cyrus Riddle is standing in his locker room with nothing but a towel on, laying his ring gear out from his gym bag. The noticeable scars on his body from his extreme matches and extracurricular activities are focused in on by the camera, but the attention switches to his facial expression as he curiously looks toward the door. The sound of it closing is heard, and his sight closes in as whomever entered approaches closer to him. A few seconds pass and Rorie Steele appears in view, standing right in front of him as he looks down at her slightly.

RIDDLE: “Ah, Rorie, we meet again, love. What can I do you for?”

STEELE: “Oh nothing… I just came by for a little visit, sugar.”

She bites her lip, scanning his body in just the towel.

STEELE: “I was just in the area.”

Cyrus smirks as he looks her up and down.

RIDDLE: “Funny how that pull brought you straight into my locker room. I doubt you want to sit and talk, or wish me luck for later.”

STEELE: “Wish you luck? Now that’s something I can do for you. Good luck… Cyrus.”

She raised her hand, placing it on his chest. Her nails pressed against his skin gently.

STEELE: “But I did actually want to chat about something.”

Cyrus nods his head and raises an eyebrow.

RIDDLE: “What would you like to chat about? News, politics, or the declining quality of talent in this company?”

STEELE: “Oooh. That last one is a VERY interesting topic indeed. Actually… let’s get into that one, hm? What are your thoughts on that?”

She raised a brow at him.

RIDDLE: “I think it’s a bloody shame we have to deal with it. If mouths were talent, everyone would be champion. Some need put in their place and reminded on who is above them. Similar to what I did to Darryl, and what I’ll do to your old mate Bryan, and new friend Aidan tonight.”

Rorie nodded.

STEELE: “Mmm… yes. My ‘friend’. You used to fuck her, isn’t that right?”

Riddle laughs.

RIDDLE: “Unfortunately, yes. But, in my defense, I’ve fucked a lot of women in recent history.”

Rorie smirked at him. She let her hand move a bit lower on his chest, gently dragging her nails down his skin.

STEELE: “I know.”

She licked her lips as she looked up at his face. She dropped her hand for a moment.

STEELE: “Actually… That’s kind of what I came here about, really. I’ve noticed some… changes… in you, Cyrus. To be quite honest, I don’t like them. Looks as if you’ve got yourself a new lady friend. And that kind of puts a damper on my fun. Interestingly enough… I have a little list here that your friend may be interested in seeing. I hear she’s here tonight too.”

Her permanent smirk remained as she watched him, waiting for some kind of response. His expression turns to curiosity, with a hint of panic.

RIDDLE: “I’ll bite… what’s this list comprised of?”

STEELE: “Names… dates… as far back as your little brain can remember. I won’t say who’s names are on there… or how many. Just know… there’s a lot. But I think this will be rather eye opening for your new plaything.”

Cyrus rubs the back of his head with his hand, agitated and nervous.

RIDDLE: “First, she’s not a ‘plaything.’ Second, how the fuck did you get a list? And third, is this all because you can’t ride me now? Is this what the talented Rorie Steele is about?”

Rorie laughs out loud, raising a brow at him.

STEELE: “First… You do play with her, don’t you? If not, she’s friendzoning you from the get go. And that’s just sad. Second, I’m very good at getting what I want. I wanted this list. I talked to quite a few people to get the information on it. Some of your ‘friends’ have loose lips. Pun intended. Thirdly, it’s not so much that I can’t fuck you anymore… It’s more so that I need you for a few things. And when I need someone, I find the best way to get them to do what you want is to blackmail them. Yes… I am fully admitting to blackmailing you right now for my personal gain. If you don’t do what I want, I show her and everyone in the wrestling universe this list. And it won’t be pretty.”

Cyrus looks up for a minute, contemplating. Afterward, he nods his head.

RIDDLE: “Okay, you want to blackmail me. I can admire the honest, but not the stupidity. Have you thought this through? Are you sure you want to play this game with me?”

STEELE: “Oh yes. I’ve thought this through. Long… and hard…”

She looked him over once again.

STEELE: “It’s not that I want to make an enemy out of you, Cyrus… I just know you won’t agree to what I want in any other way. And think about it. Aren’t games fun?”

She winked at him.

RIDDLE: “What is it you want from me exactly? And what are you hoping to accomplish by showing her a list? You’re picking the wrong person to play games with, Rorie.”

STEELE: “It’s simple, really. All I want is some protection. Someone to make sure I don’t break any nails. Someone to keep my exes in check. Someone to come down to the ring with me and make sure I win. My right hand man, you could say. Is that so much to ask?”

She batted her lashes at him. Cyrus smirked, looking somewhat offended.

RIDDLE: “So, you basically want me to be your errand boy? Like a servant.”

Rorie smiled sweetly.

STEELE: “Exactly, Cyrus! You got it!”

RIDDLE: “I don’t think you have it in you to play a position of power over me.”

STEELE: “Really. That’s how you feel about me? Ye of little faith.”

Cyrus gets close to her face, speaking in a lower volume.

RIDDLE: “Let’s just say that it’s less of a feeling about you, and more of an insight as to who I am. I’m nobody’s errand boy. Plus, you can’t possibly have any names that aren’t common knowledge anyway.”

STEELE: “Cyrus… I have names on here that you’ve probably forgotten over the years. Loose lipped friends don’t always come from the wrestling world, sugar. And you may not be an errand boy for others… but for me, I think you’ll change your mind. I’ll tell you what. You think it over for a little while. Come find me when you’ve made your decision. I’ll be waiting.”

Rorie’s eyes drop for a moment to his towel. She pulls her cellphone out from the side of her chest, where it was stuck between her bra and her breast. She presses a few buttons and looks back at Cyrus.

STEELE: “Just a little extra buffer…”

She smirks at him, confusion on his face. In one fluid motion, she grabs at the towel, pulling it off of him and takes a quick photo on her phone. She looks at the picture, smiling.

STEELE: “I’ll see you later, sugar.”

She tosses the towel at him, turning her heel and walking away. As he watches her exit, he looks nervous as he mutters the word “fuck” before the cameras cut away.

 

 

UNDERCARD
GRUDGE MATCH
SEAMUS O’CONNOR VS. DREW STEVENSON

VASSA: “This should be a clash of talented individuals! I’m actually not favoring one or the other, I will thoroughly just enjoy the competition!”

JOHNSON: “I couldn’t agree more! They’ve met before and Stevenson picked up the Victory but these two have strength mixed with talent and technique and that can always be unpredictable!”

The arena flashes between green, white and orange lights, as “The Spicy McHaggis Jig” by Dropkick Murphy plays. Seamus comes with a shillelah in one hand while looking over the crowd.

POWERS “Coming to the ring from Dublin, Ireland, weighing in at two hundred sixty five pounds and standing six feet, four inches tall! He is “The Irish Bastard”, SEAMUS OOOOOO… CCOONNNNOORR!!!”

He runs out on stage and does a heel click, before walking to the ring amped up trying to get the crowd involved. He steps into the ring and runs up to the second rope and plays to the crowd with his arms out.

JOHNSON: “The former Pride Champion, you have to believe Seamus is returning with Championship Aspirations!”

The arena lights suddenly just shut off consuming the arena into complete darkness. The sudden engulfing of a massive bright spotlight shines down onto the entry area, the fans try looking through it but it is far too bright to see through it with the naked eye. Suddenly, the public address sound system comes on playing “I’m the Man” by Aloe Blacc as the stage is still engulfed in the massive light. After a few seconds, the spotlight begins fading away and the arena lights return to life as there stands Drew Stevenson with his hands on his hips just looking out nodding as these fans boo him heavily.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Kansas City, Missouri, weighing in at two hundred fifty pounds and standing six feet, two inches tall! He is “The Emerald”, DREW SSTTEEVVEENNSSOONN!!!”

Drew begins walking down the aisle until he gets down to the ring, he quickly rolls into the ring from under the bottom rope immediately getting back to his feet just pacing the ring simply awaiting for the bell to ring thus getting this match underway.

VASSA: “This guy is Frosted Flakes GRRREEAAT! At any time, any moment Drew Stevenson can be a threat to any level in this Business!”

JOHNSON: “Well Vassa is excited, I’m excited, let’s get this match started!!”

Pulling on the ropes to stretch, Drew Stevenson keeps his eyes locked on his opponent as the bell sounds off.

DING!!! DING!!!

The two having plenty of words heading into this match, the stage this was on, it was a “Must Win” for both men as they step up to one another trading verbal jabs. As things begin to grow and the two men ready themselves, Seamus is the first to strike as he leaps forward with a Thrusting Headbutt that catches Drew to the bridge of his nose.

JOHNSON: “Ohh! Stevenson is bleeding! His nose met a Steel Strong Forehead! That did more than tickle, I can assure you of that!”

Touching the burning from his nose, Drew Stevenson looks surprised as he turns his stare from his blood tipped fingers to the face of Seamus. He rushes O’Connor and crashes into him with a Clothesline but it only knocks him back a few steps. Again he plows into Seamus and backs him up more, Seamus nods and skips backwards and hits the ropes behind him. He springs off and takes his turn with a Clothesline but Drew ducks it. Seamus spins around and runs right into a lifting Spinebuster that slaps him down into the canvas.

As Stevenson rises, he hooks Seamus at the leg and rolls him over right into a Single Leg Crab. Seamus roars out, reaching for the ropes as he sits pushed up on one arm. The referee crotch to the ring canvas asking, checking on Seamus in case he verbally submits

O’CONNOR: “NOO!!! AAAAGHHHH!!!”

His voice screaming out as he walks using his upper strength, carrying Drew with him as he drags them to the ropes. He lets himself fall chest first into the canvas as he reaches out and grabs the ropes. The referee shoves Drew and calls for him to break the hold and hurries to give him the 5 count before disqualification. Drew releases Seamus’ leg and steps across the ring at the opposite ropes, taunting the live audience who spits venomous boos back at him in response.

VASSA: “Voted Most Hated in 2015, Drew Stevenson knows how to draw heat and he loves it! They hate that he’s that good and he loves that they hate it…Fantastic talent!”

Seamus O’Connor slides out of the ring, limping a few steps before shaking out the aches of the submission attempt. Looking back to the ring, Seamus sees that Drew is still taunting the audience, exchanging words with someone in the front row. Seamus rounds the corner, ducking down as Drew turns back to the center he doesn’t see Seamus who has made it to the side of the ring where Drew was taunting. Sliding under the bottom ropes, Seamus is behind Drew and sprints from the canvas up to his feet and clobbers Drew from behind with a Lariat. Drew hits the ground but rolls and scrambles to his feet as Seamus doesn’t give him time to breath. “The Irish Bastard” knocks Drew with a big right that flings him back into the nearby corner.

He repeats the right and then comes in heavy with a low left to Drew’s rib cage and he jumps up some taking the solid shot. Snatching Seamus, Drew changes their positions and now with Seamus in the corner, Drew strikes down hard with a Downward Open Hand Palm slap to the chest of the man from Ireland.

JOHNSON: “OHHH My Gawd! That’ll leave a hand print, good grief!”

VASSA: “I had this Woman punch me once during sex…SO not my thing! Had a black eye for three days!”

JOHNSON: “Was she a Hooker? She was a Hooker wasn’t she?”

VASSA: “Let’s just say the Signing Bonus from Perry Wallace cleared and I pay well!”

Backing away and watching Seamus grab at his own chest, Drew Stevenson rubs his hands together. A smile on his face, he steps in, grabs Seamus and shoves him up from a bent over stance to put his back against the turnbuckles. Again Drew raises his open palm but before he can come down with another slap, Seamus lunges forward with another Thrusting Headbutt that causes Drew’s nose to spray with blood upon impact. “The Emerald” falls back and blood is everywhere as his hands cover his face but even they can’t hold back the blood.

VASSA: “Oh that’s Nasty! There is booger filled blood everywhere!!”

JOHNSON: “Another massive Headbutt from Seamus O’Connor and Drew Stevenson probably has a broken nose..”

VASSA: “Probably!?! HA! That is open like he’s having plastic surgery! Do you see that blood? It’s beyond broken, that’s BRRROKEN!”

The Referee checks on Drew as Seamus steps in and shoves the ref away before dropping down and covering Drew Stevenson. Quit to respond, the referee drops and slaps the canvas.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THR–KICKOUT!!!

Sitting up on his knees, Seamus grabs down under the back of Drew’s head and drives an elbow down into his hand covered face. Drew springs into action, ignited by pain and sits up, grabbing Seamus by the head and giving him a Headbutt of his own. The fans in the crowd cringe and let out groans as more blood flushes out of Drew Stevenson’s face. The two men now up on their knees trade punches at the same time, both rock from the closed fists. Seamus throws a haymaker from his knees and Drew responds with a lightning crack of a Slap. Seamus falls onto his side and Drew groggily pushes to his feet.

Grabbing his nose, Drew cups a handful of blood from his nose as it has drained out and run down the rest of his face. He spits out blood in his saliva before looking down at Seamus who scoots away. Drew roars out, teeth coated with blood, spit flying type of roar as he stares and locks eyes with his opponent.

STEVENSON: “AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!”

VASSA: “Recharged by Blood! Drew Stevenson has truly put aside any value in his life other than the fight! Look at that man, he almost looks like a new person in there! A freakin Warrior has been unleashed!!”

JOHNSON: “Seamus is seeing him and Seamus doesn’t seem scared, look he’s nodding yes! It’s about to get rowdy!”

Allowing Seamus to get up, Drew breaths in deeply as he stands bleeding and staring. Seamus slaps his own chest and screams out for Drew to “Bring that Shit” and the two burst into a rush and collide into each other with wild haymakers. Back and forth the two are hugged together taking small but powerful shots to the other man’s face. No defense, no protection what-so-ever, these two are swelling up, turning shades of pink and red as each blow lands. The referee is losing his mind, grabbing his head as he watches not knowing who will drop first then suddenly Seamus drops to a knee, pops up from it, scooping Drew up and hitting him with a Bodyslam.

Drew slaps the canvas as he rolls over in a hurry to return to his feet but Seamus comes stomping down on Drew’s hand. He goes for the other hand, Drew pulls away in time for the stomp to miss. Drew clips Seamus from the back of his knee and Seamus twists and dips into a squat before falling over.

Both men get to their feet, wobbling some but on their feet no less. Seamus stumble runs at Drew and Drew Stevenson crisp and calculated grabs Seamus and snaps him over with a side Powerslam. The referee leaps up off the canvas selling the quake of the slam.

JOHNSON: “These two just won’t quit! One gets something going and the other Powers his way into taking over!”

With no security of a leg being hooked, Drew Stevenson lays across Seamus drained the same as his opponent was. The referee recognizing a pin attempt slides down to the mats and begins the count.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE–KICKOUT!!!

VASSA: “What the Hell?! I would have bet everything on that being the end! These two are driving big rigs on Empty!”

JOHNSON: “Which one runs out of fumes first? That’s the question, who will last in this street fight like Wrestling Match?”

Going for a side arm Triangle Choke, Drew looks to empty the remains of Seamus’ will to fight yet the “The Irish Bastard” keeps fighting. Drew fighting the urge to blow his nose, he knows the mistake that would be as he struggles with the injury. Shoving Drew away, Seamus scrambles to his feet and Big Boots Drew to the side of his face as he pushes up to his hands and knees. The kick knocks him sideways and rolls him over a few times, he seems unconscious as he comes to a still on his back.

Making a slice across his neck, Seamus O’Connor reaches down and pulls Drew up from the canvas. Quickly he lifts Drew up across his shoulders looking to go for “The Drunk Landing” but as he spins Drew around, Drew lands on his feet behind Seamus, grabs him from behind and lifts him with a Snap Back Bodydrop. Both men lay sprawled out on the canvas, their chests rising and falling with deep breaths.

JOHNSON: “This is a fight! You have to appreciate a clinic like this that both competitors stop playing Chess and start slamming some god damn Dominos!”

VASSA: “We’ve had our chair shots, our blood shed and wrestling showdowns but this is a Battlefield where two Gladiators have come to fight!”

Seamus reaches his feet first but they were using each other to rise, Seamus tries to make a clean grapple to take control but Stevenson knocks him back to burst free. Drew rushes in and is dropped with a Standing Shoulder Charge from Seamus. No sooner as Drew’s back hits the canvas, Seamus leaps over him and comes down hard in a plopping sit-down Senton. Popping up, Seamus rips Drew off the canvas, holding him at the face Seamus jumps up and falls back going for “The Irish Kiss” but Drew shoves himself free and Seamus drops down on his back, missing a could be finish.

VASSA: “What the hell?”

JOHNSON: “It looks like we have company but who is that? Wait a second… is that? That’s Scotty Addams!”

VASSA: “Scotty Addams? Really? He’s in the house tonight?”

JOHNSON: “He is and he’s coming right down here to ringside!”

Hopping onto the apron, Addams drops a pair of brass knuckles beside his feet. He then yells into the ring, grabbing the ref’s attention. The official quickly rushes towards him and demands for him to step down from the apron. Arguing back with the official, Addams distracts him as he then kicks the brass knuckles from the apron into the ring.

VASSA: “Things are about to get messy!”

JOHNSON: “Did you see that? Scotty Addams just kicked a pair of brass knuckles into the ring and is distracting the ref.”

VASSA: “It’s a goddamn setup!”

Drew quickly picks up the brass knuckles and slides them on and just as Seamus stands, Drew lunges forward and punches him directly in the forehead.

CCRRAACCKK!!!

JOHNSON: “Come on! Turn around ref!”

VASSA: “Drew gets a pass back to Adrenaline and picks up where he left off with his dirty ways.”

JOHNSON: “That was uncalled for!”

Seamus wobbles back and forth momentarily before dropping straight down to the canvas. Stuffing he brass knuckles into his tights, Drew conceals the evidence. Addams then hops down from the apron and points behind the official, giving him a heads up as Drew covers Seamus for the pin.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!

JOHNSON: “This disgusts me!”

VASSA: “What did you expect? I know you can’t seriously think that Drew has changed his ways ever since Perry kicked him down to Fate.”

JOHNSON: “He injured Seamus and can’t even face him one on one without any distractions in a grudge match? Come on now!”

Rolling over, Drew pushes himself up to both knees while looking down at Seamus. Drew wipes blood from his face as it still drains heavily from his nose. Standing tall, Drew wipes the blood from his face before the official steps in beside him and raises his arm into the air.

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: “Here is your winner by pinfall… DREW SSTTEEVVEENNSSOONN!!!”

“I’m The Man” hits the speakers as Drew rips his arm away from the official and paces back and forth, looking down at Seamus who is still out cold. Addams then rolls into the ring to congratulate Drew and then two walk to the other side of the ring, laughing at the damage done to Seamus.

VASSA: “What is Scotty Addams doing here and why did he just help Drew secure this win over Seamus?”

JOHNSON: “I don’t know but it dang sure wasn’t necessary!”

VASSA: “I just want to know what Addams is doing here tonight? I haven’t heard of any signings. Has 4CW signed him to a deal?”

JOHNSON: “Who knows. If they haven’t, good luck getting one after that crap!”

 

Heading backstage we find Gabriel Hartman in hot pursuit, never one to have a moment to breath on the night of a huge event like this. Finally finding a man who has a lot riding on his match up later as we see Jett Wilder, however instead of stretching or meditating like so many others given his situation. He is on his phone looking intently at it.

HARTMAN: “Hey Jett, you got a second?”

JETT: “Oh yeah, I’m all good. Some of the guys were just telling me about this dating app called Grindr. Says it’s going to really help me out.”

Hartman opens his mouth to say something to stop him but instead shakes his head. Whether because he isn’t a fan or just doesn’t have the time remains to be seen but he continues.

HARTMAN: “In just a little bit you will have the biggest match of your career in the form of your first title defense of your Pride Championship. And many would say it is your toughest opponent in the form of the undefeated, Chris Madison. What are your thoughts?”

Jett smirks seeming to be setting down his phone, at least delaying what will be a big surprise coming his way.

JETT: ”I mean is it really that big of a deal? Chris has just had a bit of luck. Had he faced me from the jump, would he be known as the undefeated? Na. So whatever, I know that it’s two out of three falls and the best way to make a statement to people like you and all the fans that are doubting me? Is to put him down twice in a row. And I will do just that, won’t even go three. Chris is just the first on the long list of people I am going to defend against. These fans will see.”

HARTMAN: “Speaking of fans, I hear the drive for you to the venue was a very short one. How do you think the fans will greet you out there tonight? Surely got a lot of friends here?”

Even Gabriel seems to put on a bit of a pretend smile, clearly not believing that Jett had many of those growing up.

JETT: ”Of course, I know that all the fans are going to be Team Wilder tonight. Some of the guys even said that a big contingent was going to be coming from San Fran wearing the official F.A.G. shirts! So that’s pretty sweet too. Cali is on my side! People keep saying this is like Tupac versus Biggie, East vs West. I don’t know who either of them is but I know that the WEST coast is the best coast. And that me and my California fans are going to leave happy when I walk away as champion.”

HARTMAN: “Lastly, no worries about Unstable?”

Jett glares over at him, clearly sick of the Unstable talk.

JETT: ”I ain’t afraid of any of them. They can bring a whole army tonight, I don’t care. Bring all their people from that other company. Bring out Cashe, CJ, and Cyrus after they lose their matches. It won’t matter, I am going to beat Chris regardless. I am sick of always being the underdog, sick of being the joke. And those guys aren’t going to bully me any more. I will beat him and nobody will stop. I am the Pride Champion, and it’s going to stay that way.”

Jett picks up his belt and gets back onto his own phone now, walking off in his phone as Hartman looks at the camera with a bit of a impressed look.

JETT: ”Why is it saying that there is a match in the Unstable locker room?”

Jett walks off confused looking at the app that he clearly was tricked into getting as Hartman has a chuckle at his expense, the champion not seeming very focused from afar but seeming fully ready to go by his words./B]

 

 

The scene switches backstage to small, secluded area where the Tag Team Champions Bryan Williams and Aidan Carlisle are preparing for their match. Aidan is carefully wrapping her fists with black tape while Bryan is simply standing here, staring off with a look of contemplation on his face. Aidan reaches over and nudges his leg to get his attention.

CARLISLE: “Still with me here, Partner?”

WILLIAMS: “Yep, just waiting to get in that ring. Hartman isn’t around here, is he?”

Aidan cringes at the mention of the name. Everyone knew that the moment you mentioned the twitchy interviewer, he was bound to show up. It was uncanny, really.

CARLISLE: “Well, I didn’t think so, but apparently he just portaled in.”

She makes a gesture toward where a small crew was rounding the corner, having hunted down the out-of-the-way place where the Champions were hoping to have a few minutes of respite. Aidan takes in a deep breath as she finishes wrapping her hand and stands while the vulture closes in.

HARTMAN: “There you are. It was very difficult to find the two of you.”

WILLIAMS: “Hartman, I swear to god, if I say your name three times will you disappear in a cloud of smoke?”

The interviewer blinks several times, obviously not understanding. He quickly shakes it off and presses on without hesitation.

HARTMAN: “Your first defense of the Tag Team Championships is rapidly approaching. Everyone wants to know how you both are feeling right now? What is going through your head?”

WILLIAMS: “I’ll tell you what’s going through my head, Hartman. What’s going through my head is….”

Bryan stands there, smiling as Hartman is unsure of what to make before him.

HARTMAN: “I, uh, you’re not doing anything right now.”

WILLIAMS: “I’m calm, Hartman. What’s going through my mind right now is nothing, because I am calm. I am ready for the storm that is coming our way, that is what’s going through my mind right now.”

CARLISLE: “We’re not just bringing a fight to the ring, Hartman. We’re bringing a war. We’ve known since we walked away with these titles at Fright Night that we would be defending them here at Winter Wasteland, if not sooner. We’ve waiting for it, wanting it. We aren’t the kind of champions who want to sit on our laurels. We’re the kind of champions who want to prove again and again and again that we are the best, that we earned what we got.”

WILLIAMS: “Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, Hartman. Sun Tzu said it best, the moment Cyrus Riddle and CJ O’Donnell decided to step into the ring with us, their fate was decided.”

CARLISLE: “And when the final bell rings and Bryan and I are having our hands raised, when we are standing over their fallen corpses and the entire arena is awash in blood, they will only have themselves to blame. They asked for this.”

HARTMAN: “What is your strategy going into the match?”

Bryan and Aidan look at each other, grinning as Bryan speaks.

WILLIAMS: “Easy. We fight hard, and we attack fast. They’ll never know what hit ‘em, before they realize it they’ll both be looking up at those lights. A three second nap later, and we’ll be walking out as champs.”

CARLISLE: “We’ll continue to do what we’ve done since the moment we decided to team up, something that still escapes the two of them no matter how hard they try to put up a front to convince others; and that is to be a team. Whereas Bryan and I can anticipate each other’s every thought, every movement, and capitalize when the time is right… Those two aren’t on the same page, they aren’t even in the same book. You saw it in that last farce of a promo. The moment one of them didn’t mention sharing the spotlight, the other was on his heels like a rabid dog. They’re already crumbling.”

HARTMAN: “Is there anything else you wanted to get off your chest? Anything else to say to your opponents?”

Aidan and Bryan share a wordless glance, neither nodding, shrugging, or otherwise indicating their inner thoughts.

CARLISLE: “The time for words is over, Hartman. The time for war is now.”

Without another word, the pair turns from Hartman and walks together down the hall.

 

 

UNDERCARD
FATE CHAMPIONSHIP
ROB HEWITT VS. NIOBE MARTIN ©

 

“Fom Whom The Bell Tolls” blares over the PA system. The screens above the entrance ramp flash in bright orange and red with “RABID” emblazoned across the four screens in black. Rob Hewitt makes his way down to the ring to lukewarm and polite applause, grinning at the crowd and pointing to random fans wearing a “Rabid” shirt.

POWERS: “Introducing first, the challenger, from Bristol, England, weighing in at two hundred thirty-six pounds… “Rabid” Rooob Heeewiiitt!!!”

He makes a quick jogging circuit around the ring, slapping hands with anyone who bothers to extend one, then rolls stiffly into the ring and raises an arm to the crowd, fingers extended like claws.

As the opening of “Nightmare” by Avenged Sevenfold begins to play through the arena, a video flashes on the big screen of a camera shot panning up a grassy hill at night, slowly until it gets to the top. Panning from left to right, lighting flashing in the sky as the opening guitar riff begins to sound.

POWERS: “And his opponent, from Anaheim, California, weighing in at one hundred twenty-five pounds… She is “The Nightmare” and the 4CW Fate Champion, Niooobe Maaartin!!!”

The video on the screen then switches to a video package of Niobe in the ring, flashing and moving in time with the drum beat.

“Nightmare!

Now your nightmare comes to life..”

Niobe comes running out from behind the curtain, stopping at the top of the ramp briefly to hold up the 4CW Fate Championship as a blast of pyro goes off on either side of her.

“Dragged you down below…
Down to the devils show…
To be his guest forever…
Peace of mind is less than never..”

As the lyrics of the song continue to play, she slings the Fate Championship over her shoulder and walks down the ramp, a smirk on her face as she sneers at the crowd as she passes before sliding under the bottom rope of the ring. She stands up and throws off the hood of her jacket, glaring at the crowd with a smirk on her face, holding up the Fate Championship for everyone to see.

GRIFFIN: “This match is almost two months in the making as Bethany Bailey whittled down the competition in a series of qualifying matches to determine the number one contender for the Fate Championship. Now, finally, we see the title on the line.”

MATTHEWS: “Rob Hewitt has a tall task in front of him. Niobe has had a death grip on the Championship since re-claiming it from Jada Montana back in early September. At the same time, Niobe needs to be on top of her game, because Hewitt has put away all comers since arriving at Fate.”

GRIFFIN: “We are definitely in for a treat watching these two duke it out for the title.”

Niobe and Rob stare each down from across the ring, each barely acknowledging the referee as he checks with them before calling for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Martin starts out on the offensive, flying at Hewitt the moment the bell rings while he elects a slower, more methodical start as he comes out of his corner. Rob ducks Niobe’s incoming clothesline, but the Fate Champion is quick to change direction, spinning around to catch him with a discus back elbow. Hewitt stumbles slightly from the impact and Martin bounces off of the middle rope, hooking her arm around the back of his head for a springboard stunner. Rob stumbles again, but doesn’t go down, catching himself on the ropes.

Martin continues to push, closing in for another clothesline and looking to send him over the top rope. Hewitt catches her arm before impact and immediately reverses with a short-arm clothesline of his own that sends Niobe to the mat! Rob wastes no time and delivers a vicious stomp to Martin’s left shoulder. Niobe rolls away just in time to avoid an incoming leg drop.

Martin is on her feet in a flash while Hewitt is slightly slower to get off of the canvas. Niobe capitalizes, sprinting in and leaping off of Rob’s upturned knee for a shining wizard that catches him in the temple! Hewitt sways once before he goes down hard. Martin grabs one arm and instantly locks in a fujiwara armbar, cranking back as hard as she can. Rob curls his free hand into a fist against the hold as the official kneels to watch for the tap out. With a burst of strength, Hewitt uses his size advantage and  manages to roll over, flipping Niobe completely over his body and improvising a pin!

ONE!
.
.
TW—KICKOUT!

MATTHEWS: “Quick thinking by Rob Hewitt, forcing Niobe to release the submission hold in order to avoid a pin!”

GRIFFIN: “Niobe and Rob both promised that they would take everything the other had and continue to get back up. This win means the world to both of them.”

Rob shakes out his arm as he stands and Niobe rolls backward over her shoulder into a crouch to create a gap between them. Martin makes the first move again, launching out of her low stance. Hewitt is ready and wraps her up before heaving her over his head with a belly-to-belly suplex. Niobe is once again on her feet in an instant, holding her back for a few moments with her eyes glued to Rob.

Martin circles more cautiously, testing Hewitt with a few feinted lunges. Finally, she surges in for a lariat, but Rob grabs her left arm and twists her into a hammerlock! Niobe’s hand is all the way up between her shoulder blades as Rob cranks hard on the hold! Martin gives a cry of pain, but throws her right elbow back and catches Hewitt on the jaw to break free!

Niobe hits the ropes again, leaping off of the second and wrapping her legs around Rob’s neck to take him down with a springboard hurricanrana. She lands in a mounted position and launches into a barrage of stiff forearm shots to the face that the audience counts off!

ONE! … TWO! … THREE! … FOUR!

For the final shot Martin falls forward with a  modified elbow drop right to the nose!

FIVE!!!

GRIFFIN: “Niobe seems to be frequently changing tactics, trying to keep Hewitt on his toes and run down his stamina.”

MATTHEWS: “A wise strategy on Martin’s part. So far Rob is keeping his cool, choosing his shots, and maybe starting to work on that left shoulder of Niobe.”

Hewitt shakes his head and checks his face for blood as he stands. Martin uses the distraction to circle around behind him, hitting a chop block to the back of one of his knees. Niobe darts back out of reach and line of sight and waits until he sits up to dash across the ring for a rolling snapmare! Flipping back to her feet, she follows up with three stiff kicks right to his chest!

MATTHEWS: “Niobe is building some momentum!”

GRIFFIN: “She’s got Rob down on the mat and she’s trying to keep him there to mitigate that strength advantage.”

Niobe closes in, perhaps looking for another submission maneuver, but is immediately met with a seated European uppercut from Rob! Martin stumbles back and Hewitt presses forward, whipping her to the canvas with an armdrag. Rob pins Niobe’s left arm against her side and the canvas as he begins driving his knee into her shoulder over and over again. The referee tries to wave him off, but Hewitt continues up until the official almost begins a count.

Martin clutches her left shoulder as she gets to her feet. As the referee is issuing a warning to Hewitt, she takes advantage of the distraction and climbs the nearest turnbuckle all the way to the top. The official is barely out of the way as Niobe sails in with a flying crossbody! Rob catches her as she makes contact instead of going down and drills her into the canvas with a fall away slam! He floats over and hooks the leg for another pin attempt!

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
KICKOUT!!!

GRIFFIN: “Niobe gets the shoulder up again!”

MATTHEWS: “Rob looks a little frustrated, but you can practically see the gears moving inside his head. He’s trying to figure out just what he has to do to win this match.”

Niobe sends Rob tumbling with an elbow to the head and scrambles to her feet. She scales the turnbuckles again as Hewitt begins to stand, waiting for the right moment before she leaps off and catches him with a flying spinning heel kick! Hewiit is slower to stand, but Martin springs right back up. She lunges in. For a moment it seems like Rob has a counter, but Niobe takes him down with a tilt-a-whirl armdrag!

Martin immediately rolls on top of Hewitt and locks in a camel clutch! Hewitt tries to pry her hands off, but can’t get enough leverage! The referee hovers close by, asking Rob if he wants to tap out, but Hewitt shakes his head emphatically. Seeing that he is almost directly in the middle of the ring. Rob elects not to try to drag himself to the ropes. Instead, he fights his arms into position from the leg trab, taking hold of Niobe and beginning to power to his feet!

Martin cranks back harder on the hold, putting more pressure on Hewitt’s neck as she puts her weight into it. Rob falters for a moment, but gets one foot under himself! Then the other! Niobe released the hold and begins throwing her elbow into the back and side of Hewitt’s head, trying to get him back down to the mat! Rob holds on as he turns his back to the corner and crushes Martin into the turnbuckles! And again! And a third time! Niobe finally lets go and sags back into the corner.

MATTHEWS: “I think Niobe might be in trouble! It looks like she’s seeing stars!”

GRIFFIN: “But Rob is feeling the effects of that camel clutch, look at him trying to loosen up his neck!”

Hewitt backs up a few paces, keeping his eyes on Martin where she hangs limp in the corner. Rob races in for a corner splash! But no! Somehow Niobe manages to get both feet up and catches Hewitt right in the face! Rob collapses to the mat! Martin turns and climbs the ropes, holding herself in a crouch at the top as she still feels a little shaky. She stands, drops, rebounds off of the ropes and flips backwards, colliding with Hewitt on the mat!

GRIFFIN: “Torment from Niobe Martin!”

MATTHEWS: “And she’s hooked the leg, she’s going for the pin!!!”

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THR—KICKOUT!!!

MATTHEWS: “Hewitt beats the count with authority! He’s not done!”

GRIFFIN: “Rob just threw Niobe practically half way across the ring with that kickout!”

The two stand almost at the same time, Niobe getting there just a touch faster. She throws a foot into Rob’s gut. The kick connects, but Hewitt grabs her leg before she can pull it back, forcing her to balance on one foot. After a few seconds Rob throws her foot to the canvas. Martin spins all the way through and catches him on the temple with a dragon whip! Hewitt goes down again and Niobe scrambles for the pin!

ONE!
.
.
TWO!
.
.
THRE—KICKOUT!!!

GRIFFIN: “Hewitt kicked out again!”

MATTHEWS: “He said that every time Niobe knocked him down, he was going to get back up again! He’s staying true to his word so far!”

Martin doesn’t hesitate for a even a moment after the kickout before she is on her feet and climbing the turnbuckles again. She flies off with a picture perfect corkscrew moonsault, landing across Hewitt once again, but she can’t hook the leg before he shoves her off and rolls away. Niobe stalks after him, beginning to show her frustration. As she leans down and tries to grab Rob, he flips her over to the mat with a snapmare, once again grabbing her left arm and twisting it back in a hammerlock! Niobe gives a cry of pain. Hewitt sees her elbow coming this time and releases the hold, dodging back out of the way.

Rob closes back in as Niobe gets to her feet, locking up her head from behind. Martin plants her feet and shoves hard off of the mat, flipping up and all the way over, taking Hewitt down with a shiranui! Niobe is slower to get up, but drags herself to her feet, rolling her left shoulder a few times as she waits on Rob. As soon as he is in position she sprints across the ring and blasts him with a spinning enziguri! Hewitt goes down like a ton of bricks!

MATTHEWS: “True Nightmare from Niobe Martin! This could be it!”

GRIFFIN: “She’s not taking any chances, she’s going to the corner for the Phantasm Horror!!!”

Niobe hops up onto the top rope and turns to face the ring, carefully standing, looking even shakier than before after the grueling match. She stretches to her full height, focuses on the form of her prone opponent before leaping off and flipping gracefully in the air. She comes down… and catches nothing but canvas as Rob rolls out of the way at the last second! The ring rattles under the force of the impact and Martin writhes in pain for several long seconds.

Hewitt pulls himself up using the ropes, keeping an eye on Niobe at all times. Martin is down so long the referee almost starts a count out, but finally pushes up to her knees. She struggles to her feet, oblivious to the fact that Rob is behind her. As she stands he lunges in, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back onto his knees for a lungblower! He rolls all the way through as her body bounces off and over his head, twisting her into the Bear Trap!!!

Martin screams in pain as Rob cranks back on the left arm he’s been working on throughout the match. She stretches her free arm toward the ropes, but is nowhere close to being able to reach them. Niobe strains and struggles, but she can’t get Hewitt to budge. Finally, the pain becomes too much and she is forced to tap out!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

GRIFFIN: “Oh my God!!!”

MATTHEWS: “I can’t believe it!!!”

POWERS: “Here is your winner by submission and NEW Fate Champion… ‘Raaabid’ Rooob Heeewiiitt!!!”

GRIFFIN: “Rob Hewitt has put an end to Niobe’s title reign of more than four months!”

MATTHEWS: “Hewitt absolutely has to be on cloud nine right now. He’s had so many doubters since arriving in 4CW, and now he is the new Fate Champion!”

VOICE: “It feels so good to finally be here.”

As those words echo out the cameras open upon Lola J Perez and Lo’Renzo Porter entering the Staples Center. The fans cheering due to them not expecting to see the former Pride Champion in the building tonight.

FLIPP: “Shiii, you ain’t the only one. Four C Dub is where it’s at and I’m glad to be here tonight to enjoy the show geez.”

LOLA: “I just want to scope out the Fate competition. See where I’m aiming because honestly I’m going to be the best ever and I don’t won’t weak compo everytime I’m in the ring man.”

FLIPP: “You already talkin bout bein the best? You ain’t never been inside a ring yet Lo. It’s tough out there.”

Lola rolls her eyes.

LOLA: “But I’m not you. You, you alright. You still have allot to prove. Once I get my hands wrapped around Fate I’m not going to have much to prove to them because they’ll know that LJP is really about hers and being the best. So you returning?”

Flipp smiles.

FLIPP: “Hell yeah, this what I do.”

LOLA: “Awww, about time. I missed seeing Flipp-Hop on tv, and I think Adrenaline is missing that flavor you bring to the table. I’m proud of you Renzo. Hugs.”

The two share a warming hug.

LOLA: “But you still won’t be better than me. Fate doesn’t have the slightest of clue what’s coming it’s way.”

FLIPP: “We gone see big talker. We gone see in due time.”

 

HEADLINE
TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSHIP
TORNADO TAG TEAM MATCH
DISTINGUISHED ARCHETYPES VS. ART OF WAR ©

 

The lights go out in the arena and a spotlight shines upon the entrance curtain as the guitars of “Anarchy in the U.K.” begin to play.

“Right Now (laughing)”

Cyrus Riddle smoothly emerges from behind the curtain with his sunglasses affixed to his face, as well as donning a snarky grin as he raises his middle and index fingers to the crowd. He begins to walk to the ring with a swagger in his step and a cocky expression of confidence.

“I am an anti-Christ
I am an anarchist,
Don’t know what I want
But I know how to get it
I want to destroy the passerby”

“‘Cause I want to be anarchy!”

POWERS: “Making his way to the ring, hailing from London, England and weighing in at two hundred twenty eight pounds, he is “The Archetype,” “The Epitome of Excellence”… CYRUS RRIIDDDDLLEE!!!”

Riddle gets to the ring and rolls under the bottom rope, standing to his feet with impressive quickness, then goes to the corner turnbuckle, standing on the middle and mouthing off to the crowd and holding his arms out to be embraced.

“Anarchy for the U.K.
It’s coming sometime and maybe
I give a wrong time, stop a traffic line.
Your future dream is a shopping scheme”

“‘Cause I want to be anarchy”

After jumping down off of the middle turnbuckle, Cyrus removes his sunglasses and jacket, sitting them on the ring post as he leans against the ring ropes, preparing himself for the match to begin.

JOHNSON: “One half of the Distinguished Archetypes, Cyrus Riddle making his way to the ring…”

VASSA: “One half of the future tag team champions of the world, you mean.”

“When the sun rises
I wake up and chase my dreams
I won’t regret when the sun sets
Cause I live my life like I’m a beast
I’m a mothafucking beast”

“Ayo back to make you run around the game like its a fire
I spit acid bitch like I got cyanide in my saliva
Watch me wet and heat shit up like I’m a washer and a dryer
While I beat you in your head until you tire”

“I’m a motherfucking beast”

As the beginning notes of “Beast” begins to play, the arena goes to darkness. With the beats kicking in, “The Distinguished” slowly walks out with a huge smirk on his face as the fans welcome him with a chorus of boos throughout the arena.

POWERS: “And his tag team partner.  Coming to the ring, weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds, from Boston, Massachusetts, representing “The Unstable”! He is “THE DISTINGUISHED” CEE JAY OOOOOO… DDOONNNNEELLLL!!!”

As O’Donnell slowly makes his way down to the ring he can not help but take in all the insults and jeers from the crowd.

“I’ma motherfucking beast
I’ma, I’ma fuckin’ beast
I’ma mothafuckin’ beast
Fucking mothafucking beast
I’ma motherfuckin’ beast (you don’t want problems)
I’ma motherfuckin’ beast (you don’t want problems with me)
I’ma motherfuckin’ beast (you don’t want problems)
I’ma motherfuckin’ beast (you don’t want problems with me)”

“I’m a motherfucking beast right
Homie welcome to the east side, where the killers reside
We playing war games, please hide
Ain’t no signs of peace, so fuck a peace sign, we ride
Bust shots from a car seat
Or maybe hang you ’til your neck is broke
Choke with you with a Stethoscope
That’s how I kill a motherfucker in a heartbeat on a dark street”

Caleb has reached the end of the entrance way and is making his way up the ring steps. Once CJ gets on the top steps he raises his arms up in the air which only receives more boos from the audience tonight.

“I’ma I’ma fuckin’ beast!
I’ma mothafuckin’ beast
Fucking mothafucking beast
I’ma motherfuckin’ beast (you don’t want problems)
I’ma motherfuckin’ beast (you don’t want problems with me)
I’ma motherfuckin’ beast (you don’t want problems)
I’ma motherfuckin’ beast (you don’t want problems with me)”

CJ has entered the ring now and he takes off his black Unstable t-shirt. He rolls it into a ball and acts like he is about to toss it into the crowd but instead he drops it over the top ropes and it lands on the outside on the floor. CJ begins to stretch in the corner as he awaits for the bell to ring.

I’m a motherfucking beast!”

VASSA: “He’s a motherfucking beast!”

JOHNSON: “I heard that part, yes.”

VASSA: “It’s going down tonight!  Down, baby!”

JOHNSON: “It’s going to be one heck of a fight here tonight, I dare not say wrestling match, because this is tornado rules which pretty much means there are no rules.  Everyone’s legal at all times, and pretty much anything goes.  Back to the ring once again we go…”

POWERS:“And their opponents, weighing in at a combined three hundred and eighty pounds, they are the 4CW Tag Team Champions, the team of Bryan Williams and Aidan Carlisle… The AAART OOOF WAAAR!!!”

The arena goes dark with only a red spotlight pulsing on the entrance in time with the opening guitar riffs and drumbeat of “Made of Scars” as the music blares over the sound system. The stage disappears beneath a thick layer of knee-high smoke. Just before the opening verse begins two jets of fire form an arch under which Aidan Carlisle and Bryan Williams appear side by side.

“This one came from looking
This one opened twice
These two seem as smooth as silk, flush against my eyes
This one needed stitches and
This one came from rings”

The two slam the sides of their fists into the Tag Team Championships resting on each other’s shoulders before beginning to stride down the ramp. Aidan’s head nods lightly along with the song while Bryan’s gaze is fixed on the ring.

“Yeah, cut right into me
Yeah, yes I am Made Of Scars
Yes, I am made of scars”

Bryan takes the stairs in two quick strides. Grabbing the bottom rope, Aidan vaults up onto the apron. The two walk around to opposing sides of the ring to the mixed reactions of the crowd, stopping and raising both arms overhead to extend their middle fingers. Simultaneously they both flip backward over the top rope and into the ring.

“This one had it coming
This one found a vein
This one was an accident, but never gave me pain”

Heading to opposite corners, Bryan and Aidan both hop onto the middle rope, each grabbing their title and holding it up in the air. Aidan slaps the face plate of hers, screaming at the crowd about just who it belongs to. Bryan’s expression is a confident smirk as he lays his own back over his shoulder.

“This one was the first one
This one had a vice
This one here I like to rub on dark and stormy nights”

After hopping down Aidan rolls her neck from side to side, eyes closed and head back as she rubs her thumb over the large scar on her forearm. Bryan isn’t fazed by his partner’s actions as he stalks to the center of the ring to join her. They both turn and once again flip their middle fingers, this time toward their opponents.

“This one was the last one,
I don’t remember how
But I remember blood and rain
And I never saw it coming again”

The two retreat to their corner as the music fades, leaning in close to begin discussing strategy before the match begins.

JOHNSON: “The Distinguished Archetypes, the Art of War.  No love lost between these two teams, this one’s going to be a fight.”

VASSA: “And in the end, well you know.”

JOHNSON: “Yes, shouldn’t be saying something about Unstable by now?”

VASSA: “Did I forget?  Unstable!”

JOHNSON: “There you go, and here we go!”

DING!!! DING!!!

The Distinguished Archetypes charge across the ring the moment the last bell sounds, but they are met by the Art of War soundly.  Cyrus Riddle goes for a haymaker right hand on Aidan Carlisle, but she is able to duck under it and counter with a roundhouse kick of her own!  At the same moment CJ O’Donnell goes for a big roaring elbow shot but Bryan Williams counters that with a scoop right into an atomic drop!!  O’Donnell staggers around holding his ‘boys’ as Riddle rolls to the outside of the ring.  Williams scoops up O’Donnell again and this time slams him to the ground as Carlisle charges from the corner connecting with a double legdrop right to the nuts again!!  This causes O’Donnell to sit up in a rush of pain and scream out… however, that’s just long enough for Williams to charge from the opposite side ropes…

SMMMMMMMMMACKK!!!

…connecting with a diving kick right to the side of CJ O’Donnell’s skull!  The shot echoes over the arena, and luckily for O’Donnell his tag team partner Cyrus Riddle is there to pull him out of the ring to safety.

JOHNSON: “Hot start for the tag team champions!”

VASSA: “They jumped in before the bell, this isn’t right!”

JOHNSON: “Are you watching the same match I am?”

VASSA: “Yes, and I saw the tag team champions jump in early.”

JOHNSON: “Looks like Vinny’s on something and it looks like the Distinguished Archetypes are going to rethink their plan of attack here already.”

Slowly the Distinguished Archetypes begin to walk up the entrance ramp talking strategy, the duo look a bit pissed off at how this match began.  Riddle holds his jaw in some pain and O’Donnell is still making sure his marbles are attached, but they seem ready to continue this fight.  The two dart towards the ring at the same time diving through the bottom ropes and getting up quickly as the Art of War stand ready for them.  Both Williams and Carlisle charge with clotheslines, but the Distinguished Archetypes duck under in stereo.  On the rebound both Williams and Carlisle leap into the air hooking their legs onto the Unstable duo and in stereo connect with a flying head scissor takedowns!! 

JOHNSON: “And that didn’t work!  The Art of War still taking it to the challengers.”

VASSA: “Again, I don’t see how the referee can allow them to get away with this.”

JOHNSON: “Um… because it’s legal?”

VASSA: “Says you.”

Riddle and O’Donnell roll into the corner turnbuckles across the ring from each other, and O’Donnell is first met by the Art of War as the duo dive into the corner feet first both connecting with a pair of boots!!  O’Donnell’s head bounces off the back of the top turnbuckle as he falls down on his ass into the corner.  The Art of War get back up to their feet in time to duck under the double clothesline attempt of Cyrus Riddle, the Art of War hit a double boot to the gut doubling him over in the ring.  Williams and Carlisle each hook an arm of Riddle and pick him up high into the air with a double vertical suplex hold!!

SLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAMMM!!!

The crowd goes nuts for that one as the Art of War bring Riddle crashing down onto the mat, Williams hitting a falling reverse neckbreaker and Carlisle connecting with a sitdown powerbomb in an incredible display of teamwork.

JOHNSON: “Big time move there by the Art of War!”

VASSA: “Come on, this isn’t good.  This isn’t right.  What is going on?  Something’s going on, I tell you.”

JOHNSON: “Yeah, the tag team champions are showing why they’re the tag team champions.”

There is no cover as Riddle once again rolls to the outside of the ring after taking that shot and the Art of War turns their attention towards O’Donnell.  O’Donnell is only able to pull himself up and out of the corner as Aidan Carlisle connects with a leaping splash into the corner!!  As O’Donnell stumbles out the corner right into a rear waist lock by Williams, Carlisle climbs up quickly into the corner and leaps from the top connecting to the jaw of O’Donnell as Williams lifts him up and over…

SLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAMMM!!!

…with a release German suplex!!

JOHNSON: “That folded CJ O’Donnell in half like an accordian!  Big time move there by Bryan Williams, he needs to make the pin.”

VASSA: “Jeez, take sides much?”

JOHNSON: “Really Vinny?”

VASSA: “Yeah, call it down the middle.  Nobody likes someone who plays favorites.”

JOHNSON: “The cover… no!  Cyrus Riddle once again pulling his partner out of the ring to safety before more damage can be done!”

That doesn’t stop the Art of War from doing their thing!  The two hold hands and charge towards the farside corner of the ring, Williams provides support as Carlisle runs up the corner turnbuckle and then halfway across the top ropes before she somersault leaps to the outside crashing down onto the Distinguished Archetypes!!  The crowd goes nuts as she wipes them both out!

JOHNSON: “TO THE OUTSIDE!  CARLISLE BREAKING OUT THE BIG MOVES NOW!”

VASSA: “Oh come on, this one’s not going good at all for me.  Not at all.”

JOHNSON: “This war is to the outside now.”

Cyrus Riddle is able to get back up to his feet first as Carlisle landed more on O’Donnell, however, just as he’s about to turn around and get back into the ring Bryan Williams charges from the farside of the ring ropes and connects with a suicide dive between the middle and the top ropes wiping him out again.  All four particpants of this match are on the outside of the ring and the crowd is loving every second of it!!

JOHNSON: “Listen to this Staples Center crowd!  They’re loving this!”

VASSA: “I don’t know why, they need to be cheering only for Unstable.  Like ever.”

Carlisle is back up to her feet first, but is soon followed up by CJ O’Donnell.  Carlisle goes for a whip on O’Donnell, but CJ is able to put on the breaks and reverses the whip sending Carlisle crashing into the guardrailing on the outside of the ring back first!  Bryan Williams attempts to stop CJ O’Donnell from following that up, but Cyrus Riddle is able to leap at Williams from a squat position sending Williams back first into the ring apron.  O’Donnell charges in at Carlisle, but Carlisle is able to duck down sending O’Donnell up and over into the front row scattering the fans in the process!

VASSA: “He’s not eliminated, right?”

JOHNSON: “No, it doesn’t work that way Vinny.”

Riddle continues to throw Bryan Williams around on the outside of the ring and then finally winds him up for a whip…

CRRRRRRRASSH!!!

…sending him crashing into the steel steps on the outside of the ring!  Williams bounces off shoulder first and slams into the ground in some serious pain.  Williams tries to get back up using the bottom part of the steps to pull himself up, but Riddle charges in and stomps the back of Williams’ hand with the bottom of his boot!!

VASSA: “Ha!  Awesome!  See, now we’re seeing the cream rise to the top in this one.”

JOHNSON: “Riddle showing a really nasty mean streak here.  Williams hitting those steel steps and flesh against steel never goes well.”

VASSA: “Time to break him, boys.  Time to break him.”

Carlisle turns her attention to help her partner, but just as she’s about to head over to where Riddle is bashing Williams, CJ O’Donnell uses the guardrailing to launch himself shoulder first into the chest of Aidan!  Both fall to the ground, but CJ springs right back up to his feet quickly.  Riddle calls out to his partner as he stretches Williams chest first across the guardrailing holding him by both hands, O’Donnell leaps up onto the ring apron charges across and jumps…

CCCCCCCCRRRRRRRAAASSSH!!!

JOHNSON: “Oh my!  Legdrop across the back of Bryan Williams’ head!”

VASSA: “Steel steps and all!  This is awesome!”

JOHNSON: “Vinny, stop jumping up and down, you’re still recovering from that head shot.”

VASSA: “I don’t care!  This is awesome!”

Williams’ head bounces off of the steel steps as O’Donnell crashes down upon him with the leg drop!  Bryan just rolls off in pain as Riddle helps his partner back up to his feet.  As both of the Distinguished Archetypes get back up to their feet, Aidan Carlisle springs back up to her feet as well, leaps up onto the ring apron charging across and flings herself at the duo!

CCCCCCRRAAAAAASSSH!!!

JOHNSON: “Aidan hitting a big move there now!  From the ring apron.”

VASSA: “What a copier.  Come up with your own stuff.”

JOHNSON: “Really?  That’s where you’re taking it?”

VASSA: “Unstable!”

Carlisle pulls herself back to up her feet as both O’Donnell and Riddle do the same.  Bryan Williams is still trying to recover, but is seemingly having a hard time as he’s left holding his head and neck in some serious pain.  Carlisle hits a couple of swift kicks, but the Distinguished Archetypes are able to overwhelm her as they fire back with shots of their own.  Riddle hits a real vicious uppercut which allows O’Donnell to scoop up Aidan and ram her back first into the solid steel post!!  The air just rushes out of her lungs as O’Donnell backs up and does it a second time!!  O’Donnell spins her around and…

CRRRRRRRRASSSH!

…drops her with a spinebuster back first across the bottom half of the steel steps.

VASSA: “Take that you unoriginal bit-“

JOHNSON: “Vinny!”

VASSA: “What?”

Riddle takes this chance to turn his attention back towards Bryan Williams has he pulls him up by the neck and rolls him back into the ring.  Riddle slides in behind him and waits for Williams to pull himself back up to his feet, just as Williams does this Riddle charges in from behind…

SMMMMMMMACCK!!1

VASSA: “DAYDREAMER!”

JOHNSON: “Big shot on Williams!  And he’s down!”

VASSA: “It’s over!  It’s all over!”

JOHNSON: “There’s the cover, we could have new tag team champions…”

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: “Williams gets the shoulder up and this match continues.”

VASSA: “That count was a little slow, I’m just saying.”

JOHNSON: “You did this last time, and it wasn’t right then.”

That brings CJ O’Donnell into the ring quickly as Riddle slams his hands onto the ground thinking that he had the win.  O’Donnell slides in as Williams again brings himself back up to his feet, O’Donnell locks in a rear waist lock, Williams is still out on dream street from that vicious lariat across the back of the head.  O’Donnell powers Williams up and over…

SLLLLLLLLLAMM!!!

VASSA: “THE DISTINGUISHED PLEX!”

JOHNSON: “And the cover!”

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE–

JOHNSON: “Aidan Carlisle with the save!!  She came out of nowhere to break up the pinning combination that O’Donnell had Bryan Williams.  We would have had new champions, but Carlisle makes the save!”

VASSA: “Now get her, boys.”

Just as Carlisle gets back up to her feet she is met with a sharp kick right to the midsection from Cyrus Riddle.  Riddle follows that up with a double axe handle shot across the back, Riddle quickly hooks the head and the leg of Carlisle looking to suplex her up and over.  She is able to block the attempt of Riddle’s Lodon Bridge and then as Riddle goes for a second attempt at the Fishermen’s suplex she is able to spin out of the hold…

SLLLLLLLLAMM!!!

…and right into another lariat in the back of the head courtsey of CJ O’Donnell!  Aidan falls face first to the mat with a heavy slamming sound.  The confident O’Donnell rolls her over and hooks the leg for the cover.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE–

JOHNSON: “BRYAN WILLIAMS MAKES THE SAVE!  O’DONNELL WITH ANOTHER DAYDREAMER WHICH MIGHT HAVE DONE THE JOB HERE TONIGHT, BUT AIDAN’S TAG TEAM PARTNER IS ABLE TO PULL THE LEG OUT AT THE LAST SECOND!”

VASSA: “Holy crap, can they stop that already?”

JOHNSON: “I don’t think the tag team champions are just going to roll over and die here tonight.”

VASSA: “Well, they should.”

Riddle is quick with the boots on Williams forcing him to roll towards the ring ropes.  Riddle backs up and connects with a running kick which causes him to fall off of the ring apron and to the floor below.  Riddle and O’Donnell turn their attention back towards Carlisle who is still recovering from taking that wicked shot to the back of her head.  Riddle and O’Donnell send the former Pride champion into the ropes, as she rebounds the both of them lift her high up into the air…

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSLLLLLLAMM!!!

…bringing her down with a double flapjack move!!  Aidan bounces off of the ring and nearly right back to her feet from the impact.  Unfortunately for her, she is able to get right back up and is met with a vicious series of kicks to the midsection and chest from CJ O’Donnell.  With the last kick he hits the hardest of his kicks right across her jaw. 

VASSA: “Feet don’t fail me now!  Start practicing saying and neeeeeeeeewwww tag team champions!”

JOHNSON: “Vicious kicks right to the chest of Aidan Carlisle and then the final one right across the jaw!”

VASSA: “She’s out on her feet.”

Aidan stumbles forward right into Cyrus Riddle who is waiting there for her, he quickly hooks her leg and cradles her head as he lifts her up with very little hesitation up and over his head…

SLLLLLLLLLAMM!!!

…connecting with a Fisherman’s suplex which he is able to hold onto and bridges himself for the cover.

VASSA: “London Bridge!  London Bridge!  New tag champs!  New tag champs!”

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE–

JOHNSON: “NO!  BRYAN WILLIAMS MAKES THE SAVE AGAIN!!”

VASSA: “Will someone just put him out of his misery already?”

JOHNSON: “He’s not going to quit, ever.”

VASSA: “Then, they’re going to have to cripple him.”

O’Donnell puts the boots to Williams and then sends him for the ride as Riddle gets back up to his feet, Bryan Williams is able to duck under the double clothesline attempt by the Distinguished Archetypes.  On the rebound Williams leaps into the air connecting with a double clothesline of his own and bringing the crowd back to their feet!!  Riddle is right back up to his feet, as Williams begins to feel it.  Williams scoops up Riddle into a fireman’s carry position, and in spins him over his head as he brings him down…

SSSSSSSSSLLLLLLLLLLAMMM!!!

…right into his Personality Shift cradle shock driver!!  Riddle bounces off of the mat, and Williams doesn’t hold for the pin, instead he gets right back up to his feet as CJ O’Donnell charges at him, this time Williams is able to duck under the kick attempt.  Williams scoops up O’Donnell from behind and lifts him up into the air…

SLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAAAAAMM!!!

JOHNSON: “Sexualizer!  He bounced O’Donnell’s head off the mat with his version of the Omega Driver!”

VASSA:   “I can’t stand that Bryan Williams!  I hate him!”

JOHNSON: ” Here’s the cover, this one might be over!!”

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE–KICKOUT!!!

VASSA:   “Yes!  Yes!  Yes!  CJ O’Donnell kicks out!  You wonderful man!”

JOHNSON:   “So very very close, O’Donnell powers out of that one at the last second.”

VASSA:   “Not to mention it was a fast count, I’m just saying again.”

Williams is right back up to his feet, and so is Cryus Riddle.  Riddle is a bit out on mainstreet from the driver he took earlier and stumbles backwards right to where Bryan Williams is standing, in a quick motion Williams scoops up Riddle the exact same way that that he got O’Donnell.  Williams lifts…

SSSSSSSSSSSLLLAM!!!

VASSA: “Yes!  What a counter!”

JOHNSON: “CJ O’Donnell somehow turned Bryan Williams Sexualizer over and into a neckbreaker.  What a great counter indeed!”

VASSA: “See, Williams can throw everything at them including the kitchen sink and these two just keep on fighting back.  It’s a lost cause.  Just hand over the tag team titles now!”

CJ O’Donnell gets right back up to his feet looking to follow up that incredible counter move that cut off the comeback by Bryan Williams.  Just as O’Donnell turns around, however, there’s Aidan Carlisle who leaps up onto the middle ropes and springboards off…

SLAAAAAMM!!!

…flipping O’Donnell as she connects with a springboard hurricanrana!!  The crowd pops as she hooks the legs of O’Donnell going for a pin attempt.  The referee slides in as fast as possible to begin the count…

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE–SMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMACK!!!

VASSA: “SUPERKICK TO THE JAW! CYRUS RIDDLE JUST KNOCKED HER OUT!”

JOHNSON: “Out of nowhere Riddle catches Aidan in the jaw with that vicious straight kick breaking the pin attempt there, and as my partner screamed into the microphone possibly knocking out Aidan Carlisle!”

VASSA: “Distinguished Archetypes strike again!”

Riddle drops to a knee in pain as this match has taken its toll on him as well as the other three in the ring with him.  Bryan Williams is able to pull himself up using the ring ropes, but that’s the same time that Riddle is able to regroup himself and charges at him at full speed.  Riddle connects with a clothesline sending Williams up and over to the outside, however, Riddle’s momentum carries him up and over as well to the outside.  The two crash to the floor with a heavy thud as a result.  This gets O’Donnell back up to his feet, and just as the duo on the outside get back up to their feet he charges and dives through the middle ropes crashing into both Bryan Williams and his tag team partner!!  The crowd goes nuts for that one as all three men lay in a heap near the entrance ramp.

JOHNSON: “It’s mass chaos now!”

VASSA: “Oh yeah, and look who’s on top!  The next tag team champions of 4CW!”

JOHNSON: “I think you spoke too soon!  Aidan Carlisle to the outside ring ropes, what does she have in mind here!?”

Aidan waits for all three of the others to get back up to their feet on the outside, she leaps up onto the middle ropes and springboards high into the air backwards flipping her body about halfway through it’s peak…

TTHHHHHHHHUD!!!

…connecting with an Asai Moonsault!!  She wipes all three of the others on the outside of the ring as she brings the crowd to their feet once again with that incredible move.

VASSA: “Could they stop doing that?!”

JOHNSON: “These fans are witnessing something incredible here tonight, this match has been one for the books as these two teams are pulling anything and everything out to win this match and to win those tag team title belts.”

VASSA: “While I agree with that, this will only be incredible when the Distinguished Archetypes pull off the win.”

Slowly all four begin to pull themselves back up on the outside of the ring, Bryan Williams and CJ O’Donnell are nearest to each other and as they use the guardrailing to help pull themselves back up.  Williams connects with a backhand chop across O’Donnell’s chest, CJ fires back with one of his own, which Williams responds with another one of his own.  The two go back and forth a couple of more times until Cyrus Riddle charges in and lifts Bryan Williams up and over into the crowd!  Both of the Distinguished Archetypes share a chuckle until from behind Aidan Carlisle charges in and connects with a couple of chops to each of them.  Her and CJ O’Donnell begin to face off as Riddle turns more towards where Williams went over the guardrailing.

JOHNSON: “This one’s now spilling out of the ring area!”

VASSA: “It’s gone total war, which is going to of course favor the challengers.”

JOHNSON: “Do you have a reason for that?”

VASSA: “Unstable!”

JOHNSON: “Figures.”

Riddle begins to throw right hands as the crowd parts and the two of them begin to make their way deeper into the crowd.  On the otherside of the guardrailing, Aidan and CJ O’Donnell begin to go back and forth as well.  O’Donnell hits a quick uppercut which stuns Aidan long enough for her to be dumped over the guardrailing as well.  O’Donnell follows over the top and now both pairs are in the crowd and headed in opposite directions.  Fans scatter as the pairs continue to fight, 4CW security does their best to clear people out of the way, but the Staples Center is a huge place.

JOHNSON: “Things have gone to pure anarchy now!”

VASSA: “And you better believe that when things like this happen, Unstable has themselves a plan in mind.”

JOHNSON: “This fight has taken many directions, but I don’t think they would have anticipated this happening!”

VASSA: “Maybe not, but Unstable does one thing.  Win.  That’s all they ever do.  So, even though they’re brawling through the crowd now, they’re going to just win in the end.”

JOHNSON: “I don’t know how you’d conclude that, other than the fact you’re Vinny.”

Riddle and Williams finally get to one of the openings on the lower level where some fans are caught in between the curtain and the entrance way.  Security does a good job of clearing them out as Riddle takes Williams and tosses him into the concrete wall…

SMMMACK!!!

…causing an echoing sound as Bryan Williams’ skull bounces off the unforgiving rock.  Riddle then looks towards the curtains and quickly disappears behind them. 

JOHNSON: “Where’s he going now!?”

VASSA: “Maybe he wants to get a soda!”

JOHNSON: “Cyrus Riddle has just left the arena floor and we don-“

Just then it is revealed why Cyrus Riddle as he pops back through the curtain with a long wooden table!  The crowd pops for the fact that now a table is going to get involved in this match.  Riddle places the table down across the opening and goes to the attack on Bryan Williams.  On the other side of the arena, CJ O’Donnell has Aidan by a handful of hair and proceeds to clear out a row of fans as he winds her up and throws her…

CRRRRRRRRRRRASSSSHH!!!

…right through the row of chairs!!  Carlisle smashes across the backs of the chairs causing them to tip over.  The crowd scatters and goes nuts at the same time.

JOHNSON: “Carlisle through a row of chairs!!”

VASSA: “And some popcorn, someone left their popcorn!  That’s hardcore!  But look what I said, Unstable has a plan and there’s the plan!”

JOHNSON: “Things are about to get worse for Bryan Williams!”

Back on the otherside of the Staples Center, Cyrus Riddle has managed to climb halfway up the entrance portal with Bryan Williams already laying on the table in the middle.  The crowd already know exactly what is going to happen here.  Riddle steps over the concrete and railing which prevents the fans from falling over and stands there for a moment looking over where Bryan Williams is laying on the table.  Then, he leaps…

CCCCRRRRAAAASSSSHHHH!!!

“HO – LY SHIT!!! … HO – LY SHIT!!! … HO – LY SHIT!!!”

“HO – LY SHIT!!! … HO – LY SHIT!!! … HO – LY SHIT!!!”

“HO – LY SHIT!!! … HO – LY SHIT!!! … HO – LY SHIT!!!”

JOHNSON: “CYRUS RIDDLE HAS JUST LEPT… I CAN’T BELIEVE HE DID THAT!  CYRUS RIDDLE JUST LEPT FROM AT LEAST FIFTEEN FEET HIGH THROUGH A TABLE AND THROUGH BRYAN WILLIAMS!  BRYAN WILLIAMS HAS BEEN BROKEN INTO AS MANY PIECES AS THAT TABLE!!”

VASSA: “WHAT ABOUT RIDDLE? IS HE STILL ALIVE?”

JOHNSON: “We’re going to need to check on them, we’re going to make sure they’re still breathing.”

VASSA: “Can you believe that?  Can you believe he did that?  That’s a future tag team champion right there, and that’s what he’s willing to do to win these belts.”

Pieces of table lay everywhere, as does Bryan Williams and Cyrus Riddle.  Both men lay right there in the pile of table, neither man really moving much at all as the crowd continues to chant away in the Staples Center.  On the otherside of the arena Aidan Carlisle has been pulled up and out of the pile of chairs by CJ O’Donnell.  O’Donnell points towards the next row of fans who scatter out of the way and out of their chairs, with a handful of hair O’Donnell goes again to toss Carlisle into the chairs, but she instead leaps up onto the back of one of the chairs and spins in mid air connecting with a step-up enziguri to the jaw of O’Donnell!  Both hit the floor of the Staples Center at the same time. 

JOHNSON: “Aidan Carlisle not going quietly here tonight.”

VASSA: “Yeah, but her partner is broken in at least half, she’s the only one left of her team.”

JOHNSON: “Even though this is a tornado match, pinfalls must be made inside the ring.  Somehow, these two have to get back into the ring and make the pin.”

Carlisle pulls O’Donnell back up and tosses him into the row of chairs, they bend, but do not fall over as O’Donnell lays there across four chairs.  Aidan climbs up onto the chairs next to where CJ’s head is and jumps high up into the air…

CCCRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSH!!!

…hitting nothing but the chair with a leg drop as O’Donnell is able to move out of the way!!  Carlisle goes through the chair and hits the floor in some serious pain as O’Donnell gets back up to his feet.

VASSA: “Someone’s got lose a little weight, eh?  Don’t worry, she’s going to drop about ten pounds of gold before the night is over.”

JOHNSON: “O’Donnell getting his head up there quickly, and much to his benefit, because that would have been a hard way to take a leg drop.”

Back on the otherside of the arena, Cyrus Riddle has made his way back up to his feet, he staggers around a bit knocking some of the wooden debris around in the process.  Riddle doesn’t pay much attention to Where Bryan Williams is and slowly Riddle begins to make his way back towards the ring right through the fans.  Williams is still not moving all that much as he been able to roll over and that’s about it.  Riddle shoves his way through, as some security helps him as well.  Just as he gets close enough to the guardrailing he sees that his tag team partner, CJ O’Donnell has been able to drag Aidan Carlisle through the crowd as well.  Riddle more or less flops over the guardrailing as O’Donnell gives Carlisle a rough ride tossing her over and onto the concrete floor outside of the ring.

VASSA: “Here it comes!  They’ve got Carlisle right there, two on one.  This one’s over!”

JOHNSON: “Things are looking real bad for the tag team champions right now, Bryan Williams might be in need of medical attention before this night is over and that is leaving his tag team partner at the mercy of these two…”

VASSA: “Future tag team champions of the world!!”

JOHNSON: “I was going to say gentlemen, but that’s not true.”

VASSA: “Oh, as if Aidan is a real lady.”

O’Donnell picks up Carlisle and rolls her back into the ring.  Just as he sildes under the bottom ropes his tag team partner, Cyrus Riddle does the same from the otherside of the ring.  The two stand up and give each other a cocky smirk as they stand over the body of one half of the Art of War.  The two stand close enough to each other, first Riddle points at his own chest, then O’Donnell points at his own chest, it seems they are having a tough determining who gets to pick her apart first.

JOHNSON: “Looks the Distinguished Archetypes are having a tough time figuring out who is going to get the first shot on a lone wolf Aidan Carlisle!”

VASSA: “Yeah, I’m not liking this.  Just make the pin.”

JOHNSON: “Wait a second!  They’re going to play rock, paper, scissors!?”

VASSA: “Always go paper.  Always.”

Yep, Riddle and O’Donnell being completely convinced this one is over begin to play rock, paper, scissors right over where Aidan Carlisle is laying in the middle of the ring.  The crowd just rains down their hate upon the Distinguished Archetypes.  Riddle goes rock.  O’Donnell goes scissors.  Riddle falls to the mat and hooks the leg of Carlisle as the referee slides in for the count…

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: “Aidan kicks out!  Aidan kicks out!  They might have wasted a little too much time determining who was going to make the cover and that gave her the time to build enough strength to get the shoulder up at the last split second!”

VASSA: “Maybe, but was that wise of her?  Now she’s at the mercy of both men.”

JOHNSON: “True.  She’s all alone now.”

Riddle complains at the referee about the speed of the count as O’Donnell cuts in and scoops Carlisle up to her feet.  O’Donnell wastes little time before he sends Carlisle into the ropes, charging at her as well, O’Donnell leaps up into the air and connects with a vicious leaping knee strike!!

VASSA: “Irish Knowledge beaten into her head!  This one’s over!”

JOHNSON: “CJ O’Donnell connecting with that incredible looking leaping knee strike!  Aidan’s on the ground, O’Donnell hooks the leg…”

ONE
.
.
TWO

VASSA: “NEW TAG CHAMPS!!”

THRE–

JOHNSON: “BRYAN WILLIAMS WITH THE SAVE!! WILLIAMS WITH THE SAVE!!”

VASSA: “WHERE THE HELL DID HE COME FROM!? THAT MOTHERFU–“

JOHNSON: “WILLIAMS PULLS THE LEG OF CJ O’DONNELL AND SAVES HIS TAG TEAM PARTNER!!”

Williams catches everyone by shock as he yanks O’Donnell out of the ring.  Cyrus Riddle even doesn’t know what to make of it as he moves over towards the ring ropes, Williams leaps up and yanks down on Riddle’s head causing him to stumble turning right into a charging Aidan Carlisle who wheelbarrows up onto Riddle…

SLLLLLLLLLLLLAMMM!!!

…into the Rain of Pain!!  The facebuster causes Riddle’s face to bounce right off the mat, Adian Carlisle rolls over and goes for the cover, the referee dives in…

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE–

JOHNSON: “CJ O’DONNELL MAKES THE SAVE!!  O’DONNELL BREAKS UP THE PIN AT THE LAST SECOND!!”

VASSA: “Oh thank God for that man right there, that man just saved the world from a terrible terrible event.”

JOHNSON: “What Art of War winning is a terrible event?”

VASSA: “No, Unstable losing is.”

CJ O’Donnell pulls Aidan back up to her and tosses her into the corner, however unfortunatley for CJ O’Donnell Bryan Williams has made his way back into the ring and nails O’Donnell from behind with a vicious elbow shot in the back of the head.  O’Donnell rebounds off of the ropes, and is met with a boot to the gut by Williams, Williams hooks the head and quickly lifts CJ O’Donnell into the air…

SLLLLLLLLLLLAMM!!

…right onto his knee with brainbuster!!

JOHNSON: “CROSS OVER ATTACK!!  WILLIAMS HITS THE BRAINBUSTER ONTO HIS KNEE!!”

VASSA: “NO, NOT HIM AGAIN!”

However, Bryan Williams is not able to follow that up for a pin because as soon as he finishing hitting the move Cyrus Riddle is right there with a boot to the midsection on Williams. Riddle ties him up with a sidelock and in one motion lifts up Williams into the air…

SLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLAMM!!!

…right into a sitdown piledriver!!  Williams’ head bouncing off of the mat with nothing but impact.

VASSA: “Darkness falls!  Darkness falls!  Riddle hitting the move of all moves here!!  This one’s over!!”

JOHNSON: “Riddle hitting that amazing move right into a piledriver, incredible show of strength this late into a hellacious match.”

Riddle looks happy as he hits the move, but as soon as he stands back up there’s Aidan Carlisle who nails Riddle in the midsection with a huge kick, she then lifts him up into the air with a quick motion but Riddle slips out and drops down to his feet behind her. He then throws an elbow back and hits her in the back of the head, knocking her forward. The crowd the pops as three people run out from the curtain and down the ramp towards the ring.

JOHNSON: “Wait a second, who is that?”

VASSA: “It looks like a few of the Fate stars want to jump in the action.”

JOHNSON: “You’re right! That’s Tanya Black and Jace Savage!”

VASSA: “Thanks Captain Obvious! But who is that other guy coming down here with them?”

As Jace and Tanya stop at ringside, an unknown individual follows behind, stopping with them. Aidan and Riddle are just about to attack each other but turn their attention to ringside.

JOHNSON: “Why are these people even out here right now? We’re in the middle of a tag team championship match!”

VASSA: “Since when has that ever stopped anyone?”

The three then circle the ring, Jace going one way and Tanya and the other guy going the opposite. The crowd watches in silence as the match completely comes to a stop. CJ begins to slowly get to his feet, confused as to why the match has stopped before looking to the outside and finding out for himself. Aidan then backs towards Bryan and pulls him up from the mat, helping hold him up until he can stand on his two feet.

JOHNSON: “It looks like everyone in the ring is back to their feet and the one’s on the outside have their attention.”

VASSA: “Goddamnit! Things were just heating up!”

The three then gather to one side of the ring, directly in front of Aidan and Bryan. After talking amongst each other for a moment, the three then climb onto the apron and begin taunting everyone inside.

JOHNSON: “We didn’t have a third team scheduled for this match but it seems one has decided to interfere anyways.”

Cj then storms towards them, mouthing off and pointing for them to head to the back. Aidan then approaches the ropes as well, making it clear that they aren’t wanted at ringside.

VASSA: “Well isn’t this an odd sight. When have those two ever stood side by side arguing for the same cause?”

The three then begin  arguing back at Aidan and CJ, distracting them as Riddle and Bryan look on. On the far side of the ring, Riddle leans against the ropes with his arms crossed, just watching the event unfold. The official then makes his way to the ropes and stands in between  Aidan and CJ, ordering the three to stand down and leave the ring area. Refusing, they stand their ground.

JOHNSON: “What’s that?!”

The crowd then begins to stir but doesn’t distract the one’s inside of the ring.

VASSA: “What the hell are they yelling about? Nothing is happening in the ring.”

The camera view then changes to a shot in front of the announcers booth where the crowd parts, making an opening for another individual wearing a hood. The hooded person then climbs over the barricade. beside the announcers booth.

VASSA: “Hey now!”

JOHNSON: “What do you think you’re doing?! You can’t cross the barricade!”

The hooded person then pushes a member of the ringside crew out of their chair and onto the floor. Picking the chair up, they then fold it before turning their head towards the ring, where Riddle stands the closest with his back against the ropes.

VASSA: “Oh shit!”

JOHNSON: “Look out!”

The hooded person then runs to the side of the ring and takes an overhead swing with the chair, hitting Riddle directly in the top of the back.

CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!

Riddle then stumbles forward, grabbing Bryan’s attention. The hooded person then throws the chair to the ground and backs away from the ring as the other three on the opposite side hop down as well. Bryan then moves in and turns Riddle around before wrapping him up around the waist. Lifting Riddle into the air, Bryan hits him with a German suplex…

BBBAAAMMM!!!

…Bryan keeps his hold on Riddle, bridging for the pin as the sound of the thud grabs everyone’s attention. The official turns to look first and then races over, sliding in beside the two for the count.

ONE

JOHNSON: “Here we go!”

TWO

CJ then steps forward to break the pin but as he does Aidan grabs ahold of his shoulder and pulls him back. Spinning around, CJ swings with all of his might, hitting Aidan with a right hook, knocking her to the mat as the ref’s hand slaps the mat for the count.

THREE!!!

Riddle then kicks out of the pin but it is too late, the count has already been made.

JOHNSON: “ART OF WAR RETAINS!! ART OF WAR RETAINS!!  WHAT A HELL OF MATCH AND OUT OF THE CARNAGE THE ART OF WAR IS ABLE TO DEFEAT THE DISTINGUISHED ARCHETYPES!”

VASSA: “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!”

JOHNSON: “What a hell of a match we just witnessed, and the Art of War is bloody, bruised, possibly with a couple of broken bones here and there… but they are still tag team champions of 4CW!”

VASSA: “They didn’t do it alone! I demand a restart damnit!”

A thunderous ovation from the fans here at the Staples Center as “Made of Scars” once again plays out over the arena. CJ quickly assists Riddle to his feet as Bryan rolls away and climbs to his before making his way over to Aidan and helping her up. CJ then goes to rush the two but quickly comes to a stop as Riddle holds his arm out, blocking CJ.

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

The official then walks to Aidan and Bryan, handing them the championships.

POWERS: “Here are your winners and still 4CW Tag Team Champions… ART OF WWAARR!!!”

The official then raises their arms into the air. Meanwhile, on the outside of the ring, the hooded individual groups with the other three as they slowly back up the ramp, with their sights set on the ring.

JOHNSON: “Well the defending champions will retain tonight but the big questions is, who are those four headed up the ramp?”

VASSA: “Well we already know Tanya Black and Jace Savage. I don’t know who that other guy is and the one under the hood is a mystery.”

CJ then begins mouthing off at Bryan and Aidan, grabbing their attention. The four then begin to exchange words in the ring as the tension begins to build once more. CJ then holds his arms out to the side while walking to the center of the ring, daring someone to come towards him. Aidan and Bryan look to one another and after a nod, the two step forward with the championships in hand as a voice then yells over the speakers, stopping them in their tracks.

MAN: “You four are pretty when you fight, did you know that?  It’s like watching re-runs of a soap opera.  I mean, shit, it gets pretty sad when you have come to a point where you are watching a re-run of a soap opera.  Pretty disappointing!”

The tag champs, CJ and Cyrus all turn their attention to the ramp where this mysterious four stand starring right back at them.  There is a bit of eerieness that flows through the Staples Center Arena as the crowd are wondering the same thing that the members in the ring are wondering.  Just who the hell are these guys.  Of course, everyone knows Tanya Black and Jace Savage, who are watching from the ramp in a unison line with a smirk on their face as they stare down the people in the ring.  However, what nobody can figure out is just who exactly is the man standing next to the man with the mic in his hand and is wearing complete black and a trench coat with a hood that is covering up his identity.  All eyes are on these four people as the man in a trench coat and mic in his hand steps forward.

MAN: “It never seizes to amaze me just how much this place hasn’t changed since the last time I was in 4CW.  I figured the competition would be better and the anxiety would be higher.  However, everything looks the damn same!  I may have lost everything, but I promised you ALL that this day would come!  I promised that the day would come where order needed to be restored in 4CW.  Well, I have arrived to deliver on that promise!  I have arrived to pick up where I left off, only this time, I have a new bigger agenda.

VASSA:“Who is this guy and what is he talking about?”

JOHNSON: “I don’t know but there’s something about his voice that sounds peculiarly familiar…”

The mysterious man smiles as he takes another step forward.  He takes a look at the party in the ring, who are growing inpatient as to who and what this man is doing out here.  The man raises the mic back to his mouth.

MAN: “I promised that I would return sometime and that I would, in fact, turn 4CW into a cleansing ground.  I have watched closely and quietly in the shadows at what has become of 4CW and it’s occupants.  I have seen people like the Unstable run a muck around here and terrorize this place for far too long without having the slightest bit of resistance.  That will be NO longer tolerated!  I have reached out and gathered a force that will be reckoned with here in 4CW and have assembled the best people for the job!  Please, allow me to introduce my crew!”

The mysterious man steps to the side and points at the start of the line.  As he calls them out by name, they each step up one by one.  The man smiles as he introduces his followers.

MAN: “Allow me to introduce first, Tanya Black!  She is relentless and she is a warrior here in 4CW.  Most of you know her from Fate and ironically, as fate would have it, she has joined my cause and has volunteered to help usher in a new age in 4CW!  Next up, is a man that none of you are familiar with…yet.  While his history is a mystery, and will be revealed in time to all of you, I give to you the man who will send chills down your spine and fuck with you psychologically, he is Aamon!”

Tanya and Aamon step forward as they continue to stare into the ring much to the confused Tag Champs and Unstable members of CJ and Cyrus.  The mystery man then stops as he gets to one man who smiles back with ease.

MAN: “And the third, a man who needs no introduction, is a man who knows me quite well.  In fact, together, we DOMINATED 4CW and was last seen together ironically this time last year.  This man has fought with me from the very beginning and a man who has always trusted my judgement.  Ladies and gentlemen, I give you….Jace Savage!”

Jace steps forward and bounces back and forth on his feet before patting his good friend on the shoulder.  For a brief moment, the two share a hug before the mysterious man turns his attention back to the ring.  He pauses for a few moments as the moment of truth has finally arrived.

JOHNSON: “Wait a minute, that guy was here with Jace last year?  WAIT A MINUTE!! IT CAN’T BE HIM!!  I knew I recognized that voice!”

VASSA: “He said he dominated here last year….I don’t….OH MY GOD!!  CAN THAT REALLY BE HIM?!”

The mysterious man starts to look down at the ramp for a few moments as the fans in the Staples Center are finally putting all the pieces of the puzzle together of the clues the man has left over the last month.

MAN: “And last but certainly not least, you have the one who is leading THE ORDER into a 4CW and an Order that will usher in a NEW AGE IN 4CW, ladies and gentlemen I give to you…”

The man finally looks back up with a huge smile on his face as he takes off the hood to reveal his identity.

MAN: “ME!”

The fans in the arena completely go crazy as the man’s identity is revealed.

JOHNSON: “OH MY GOD!!!!  IT’S BRIAN HOLLYWOOD!!!!”

VASSA: ” HOLY SHIT!!! I DON’T BELIEVE IT!! BRIAN HOLLYWOOD IS BACK IN 4CW!!!!”

The fans are buzzing as Hollywood smiles methodically as he stands almost unison with the rest of his followers only slightly standing a little bit in front of the three as he sets and locks his eyes with the tag champs and the Unstable who seemed a bit surprised to see him.  The surprise is little, however, as more confusion is seen in the ring.  Hollywood slowly raises the mic back up to his mouth.

HOLLYWOOD: “The shroud has arrived and the clouds have been lifted in 4CW!   You can consider, at this very moment, that the tag team division has been put on NOTICE!  Oh, but don’t let me leave you two out, CJ and Cyrus.  This pertains to you all as well!  The entire Unstable have officially been put on notice and as a consequence of your actions, the consequence is US!  You are looking at the four people who are going to RESTORE 4CW and rid it of the fifth and corruption that is the Unstable.  Tell your buddy, Jason Cashe, who I KNOW is watching backstage, that he should have heeded Aamon’s warning and as the first consequence of his actions, have costed CJ and Cyrus the tag team titles tonight!  But don’t worry, there’s a lot more from where that came from!  We are the ones who will bring balance to 4CW.  WE HAVE ARRIVED, for we are THE ORDER and we have come to claim 4CW as our own!  Let all of the injustices and their violators witness what we have done here tonight, for soon, we shall catch up to you and correct the injustices in which you have displayed.  THE ORDER HAS SPOKEN!”

Hollywood drops the mic as him and the rest of The Order raise their hands high in the air to loud cheers from the crowd and anger from their aggressors in the ring as Hollywood closes his eyes and starts to laugh.

JOHNSON: ” I can’t believe what we’ve just heard!  Brian Hollywood is back and has brought with him an Order in which promises to restore 4CW to justice!”

VASSA: “I can’t believe he’s back!  I can’t wait to see all these guys and their agenda for 4CW!  They might be treading on very thin ice, but it’s about damn time something is done with the Unstable!”

JOHNSON: “Well I can’t wait to find out what happens next!  Which speaking of next, let’s head backstage as we prepare for our main event of the night!”

 

 

 

4CW cameras cut to the backstage area where Cyrus Riddle is walking slowly, looking somewhat disappointed, but also focused on his whereabouts. As he makes his way down the locker room corridor of the Staples Center, he stops suddenly as he comes across Rorie Steele, standing outside of her locker room filing her nails, presumably waiting for Cyrus. He stops right next to her, looking at her face while taking a deep breath.

RIDDLE: “You want an answer, yeah?”

Rorie didn’t even bother looking up at him from her nails. She knew she had Cyrus wrapped around her little finger.

STEELE: “Of course I do.”

She raised her hand towards the light, showing off the freshly sharpened nails she had. She looked at him through her spread fingers.

STEELE: “What is it?”

Cyrus puts his head down, shaking it.

RIDDLE: “Well, after careful consideration, and in an effort to make sure that I am able to maintain my privacy to an extent…”

He looks up at her, grabbing her freshly nail-filed hand and holding it, while flashing a confident smirk.

RIDDLE: “I’ve decided…to decline your offer.”

Rorie raised a brow, getting ready to pull her hand away.

STEELE: “Excuse me?”

Cyrus kept ahold of her hand, still maintaining his expression.

RIDDLE: “I’m declining. See, in light of some information that I just so happened to remember, I’ve realized that I have a bit more on you than you do on me. My past isn’t the only questionable one, is it? Rorie has secrets.”

He raises his eyebrows at her. She makes a face at him, showing her anger.

STEELE: “Oh really. And what could you possibly have on me, Cyrus? My book is pretty open, sugar.”

He lets go of her hand and brushes her hair back behind her ear with his own before resting one hand against the wall behind her and leaning in close.

RIDDLE: “Some chapters are somewhat erased, or at least you’d like to think they are. Wouldn’t you…Rorz?”

His smile widens as he looks into her eyes. She glares at him, practically snarling at him.

STEELE: “How fucking dare you…”

She knew exactly what he was talking about. All from that one name. She clenched her teeth together.

STEELE: “You wouldn’t dare tell a soul…”

Cyrus mocks being offended.

RIDDLE: “I’m a bit hurt you don’t think I would. Isn’t that what you wanted? To play games with me? This is how we play. You have stuff I don’t want told, but I always have an ace up my sleeve as well, love.”

STEELE: “How the fuck did you find out this…. information…?”

She was trying to play it like it wasn’t as important, but her initial reaction said enough. Cyrus’ response was one of pride and a feeling of victory.

RIDDLE: “Now, you know I can’t give that to you. You didn’t want to tell me about the sources you had for my list. Just know that I have my ways.”

Her anger was slowly growing more than it had already gotten to.

STEELE: “And… what do you want, Cyrus? For your silence?”

He looks off for a second, contemplating. After a few moments, he arrives at an answer.

RIDDLE: “Eye for an eye, Rorz. I’ll use your very own end to fulfill my own. It’s been some time since I had a valet or manager, and it would be quite fun to have you do as I wish. So, those are my terms. You be a good girl, and I’ll make sure nobody finds out what’s under the surface.”

She stood up, now right in front of him, body’s touching. She tilted her head to look right at him. She was only closer to his height because of the heels she wore on her feet.

STEELE: “A good girl, hm? And you really think I’m capable of that?”

She put her hand on his chest, drumming her nails against his skin.

STEELE: “You really think I will do exactly as you say? Go ahead… tell everyone. What you know means nothing to me…”

She instantly regretted her words, but didn’t show it, her anger being the only thing seen on her face. Cyrus looks at her, surprised, but in a challenging mood himself.

RIDDLE: “If that’s how you feel then…it’s a shame really. I’ve enjoyed what we have had, Rorz, it’s been good. I like who you are even…or what you seem to be. I’m not a fan of what I am about to do, but you can’t say you didn’t have it coming.”

Cyrus motions as if he is walking away, shrugging his shoulders. She rolls her eyes, frustration filling her.

STEELE: “Wait.”

She grabs his arm and stops him. Her nails are slowly digging into his skin.

STEELE: “Fine…”

She says the word through gritted teeth. Cyrus looks at her with a noticeable twinkle in his eye.

RIDDLE: “Fine what?”

Her teeth clench together tighter.

STEELE: “Fine… master… I will do whatever you ask.”

Cyrus wraps his arm around Rorie, smiling.

RIDDLE: “I kind of like how you said that. From now on, that’s how you can refer to me. I can almost feel the excitement making your body tremble.”

She pushes him away from her, eyes cut towards him.

STEELE: “Excitement? Excitement?”

She pushes him back against the closest wall, digging her nails in his chest as she stared at him.

STEELE: “There is no excitement here, Cyrus.”

Cyrus’ sick grin that accompanied pain being inflicted begins to show.

RIDDLE: “Never took you for someone who felt trepidous. We’re seeing a new side of you already, love. I tell you what, I’ll allow you one outburst per week on a small scale, consider it a gift. This one is your only one for now, so make it worth it and let’s move on. I have a task for you already.”

Her eyes met his, staying there the whole time. She drug her nails across his skin, drawing blood. Now he’d have matching scars from the first time they had met. She felt better, but it wasn’t as impactful as she would have liked it to be. He was expecting it. And that was annoying to her.

STEELE: “What can I do for you, master…?”

There was no enthusiasm in her voice. Just annoyance at this point. Cyrus looks at her while dabbling the blood with his index finger, tasting it.

RIDDLE: “First, we are going to go to my locker room so you can clean this blood and wound properly. Once I’m satisfied with that, I’ll tell you exactly what you will do for me. There are just too many ears in the open. So, apologize, and we will get going…”

She stood there for a moment, just staring. If he thought she was going to apologize to him, he was insane.

RIDDLE: “Rorz…apologize. I know it’s hard to grasp that you were in control just a bit ago, only to have the power shift to me. But hey, that’s life, love. I’ll be respectful in what I ask of you if you just show me that loyalty I want. So…do you have something to say?”

She sighed, defeated.

STEELE: “I’m sorry.”

She pointed at the bloody marks on his pec.

STEELE: “For that…”

RIDDLE: “It’s okay, love, I forgive you.”

Cyrus pulls her in for a hug to assure her he isn’t upset, even though he knowingly is getting his blood on her.

RIDDLE: “Now that we are beyond that, let’s take a walk. Pressing matters need to be discussed.”

 

MAIN EVENT
PRIDE CHAMPIONSHIP
TWO OUT OF THREE FALLS
CHRIS MADISON VS. JETT WILDER ©

JOHNSON: “Tonight has been insane and it’s time to head into our main event.”

VASSA: “Winter Wasteland is a huge event for us. It was last year and has proven to be once again here tonight.”

JOHNSON: “We’re going to top things off with Jett Wilder’s first Pride Championship defense.”

VASSA: “I’m not going to lie. I actually enjoy having Jett as our Pride Champion.”

JOHNSON: “The kid is still young. He could be something great one day but if I’m being honest, I must say that I think he still has a lot of maturing to do.”

VASSA: “Well this match will do him some good then. Chris Madison is about as mature as they come in the ring. Jett facing off against him can only help improve and further his in-ring abilities.”

JOHNSON: “This isn’t just some normal match either. This is a two out of three falls match for the Pride Championship.”

VASSA: “That’s right! One pin fall or submission isn’t going to seal the deal. One of these men are going to have to do it twice and the good thing about this is, there will be no draws.”

JOHNSON: “Don’t let Jett’s inexperience fool you. He could in fact upset the world and give Madison his first loss in 4CW.”

VASSA: “Many people have tried, all have failed.”

The venue’s lights cut out, causing the entire building to go dark. Static feedback screeches over the P.A. system, forcing the fans in the audience to cover their ears. The video screen near the entrance way lights up with a white snowy picture, barely illuminating the entrance ramp.

POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for best two out of three falls and will be for the 4CW Pride Championship!”

A black handprint slowly fades into the picture with a red anarchy symbol carved into the palm of the handprint before the screen cuts to black with white lettering that spells out “Unstable”. The crowd jumps to their feet, a 50/50 split between cheers and boos, as the static feedback is replaced by the opening chorus to Bullet For My Valentine’s single You Want a Battle? (Here’s A War).

“We will not take this anymore
These words will never be ignored
You want a battle
HERE’S A WAR!!”

A sole spotlight focuses on the curtain for the entranceway as Chris Madison steps out. His head is tucked down and covered by a black towel, focusing on the ground beneath him. The mixed crowd erupts in anticipation as Madison stands as still as a statue. He finally brings his fists up towards his face and punches himself on the jaw with both hands before ripping the towel from his head and spiking it down to the ground.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring first, from Long Island, New York, weighing in at two hundred twenty pounds and standing six feet tall, “Mayhem” CHRIS MMAADDIISSOONN!!!”

Madison charges to the ring and slides in under the bottom rope before hoping up to his feet. He walks towards the nearest ropes corner and climbs up to the second rope, surveying the live crowd before holding his arms out horizontally.

JOHNSON: “And just like that, at the sound of his name, Chris Madison appears!”

VASSA: “He looks determined but then again, he always does. Madison is am machine when match time rolls around and tonight on this stage, I’m expecting him to blow the roof off the building.”

JOHNSON: “That would be something amazing to see.”

VASSA: “You’re goddamn right it would! I’m talking about roof… KABOOM!!! Right off the fucking building!”

JOHNSON: “Calm down Vinny. We have a long match ahead of us. You’ve made it this far, just sit tight and relax, we have one more for the history books.”

The lights go dark as the beginning of “Blessings” by Big Sean hits the fans more then likely unhappy to hear the music playing.

POWERS: “And the champion!”

Out from the back dancing and wilding out, is Jett Wilder, holding the 4CW Pride Championship followed not far by the imposing Luiz Cavalcante and the beautiful Carmella Wilder. Though generally the young and small Wilder alone would not be imposing with his atrocious dance moves we get a close up of the imposing Luiz walking to the ring to really strike some form of fear. Clapping her son on is Carmella with her glasses on looking professional as she usually does, as Wilder bounces up the steps stopping.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California accompanied to the ring by Carmella Wilder and Luiz Cavalcante, weighing in at one hundred and forty five pounds and standing five feet, eight inches tall! He is the 4CW Pride Champion, JETT WWIILLDDEERR!!!”

Waiting for Luiz, who as usual doesn’t look pleased, to have to stop and lower the top rope down so that Wilder can jump over it to show off. Shaking his head as he follows him into the ring as Jett jumps up to the top rope pounding his chest as the crowd boos him. Carmella walks around the ring ignoring the cat calls and the boos to continue to cheer her son on as Jett bounces off the ropes and heads to the other side with Luiz standing behind him arms crossed. Finally bouncing back down taking off the hoodie he came out with to hand to Luiz who walks to the ropes to hand it out to Carmella as Jett readies himself.

VASSA: “I’m a little surprised and shocked. Jett actually looks ready tonight.”

JOHNSON: “Luiz is firing him up right now. This will be Jett’s first championship defense ever since winning the thing at the two year anniversary show last month.”

VASSA: “Luiz doesn’t get enough credit. He puts up with Jett’s crap day in and day out. Jett thinks life is one big game while Luiz takes things on a more serious note.”

JOHNSON: “Jett would be wise to learn a thing or two from Luiz.”

VASSA: “He really would. But you know what? Everything Jett and even Luiz do gets overlooked by that beauty right there, his sexy mother, Carmella!”

JOHNSON: “She truly is a beauty and could in fact be labeled a distraction. I’ve seen opponents get distracted by her beauty time and time again.”

VASSA: “Opponents? Hell, I can’t call a match without getting lost at those two huge knoc–“

JOHNSON: “Okay then! Let’s get down to business!”

After a few more words of encouragement, Luiz exits the ring with Carmella, leaving Jett by himself. The official walks over to Jett and takes the Pride championship before walking back to the center of the ring. Raising it above his head with both hands, the official turns to each side of the ring, putting the title on display for the crowd. He then walks to the edge of the ring and hands the championship to a member of the ringside crew. Back in the center of the ring, the official then looks to Madison who gives him a cold look in return before slowly nodding his head. Looking to Jett, the official waits patiently as Jett looks around the entire arena. Turning his attention to the ref, Jett then hesitantly gives him a thumbs up. The official then slowly raises his arm into the air before swinging it downward and signaling for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Bouncing back and forth in his corner, Madison then releases a battle cry into the air, igniting the crowd. Looking on, Jett appears a bit intimidated as he looks down to the outside at his mother and Luiz. Giving him words of encouragement, Luiz motions for Jett to leave the corner and defend the championship. Slowly stepping away from the corner, Jett makes his way to the center of the ring. Bursting forward, Madison charges towards Jett and catches him with a powerful kick to the side of the knee. Dropping to favor the attacked knee, Jett leaves his other open as Madison then plants his foot into the side of it. With Jett’s legs about to give out from under him, Madison then leaps upward and aims his knee towards Jett’s head. Quick on his feet, Jett spins out of the way and grabs ahold of Madison’s shoulders from behind, slamming him down to his back.

Rolling over in an instant, Madison pushes himself up to all fours but before he can begin to stand, Jett hits him over the top of the back with a double axe handle. Jett then grabs Madison by the head and slowly pulls him up to his feet only to then get caught off guard as Madison punches him in the center of the chest, breaking his hold. Latching onto Jett’s wrist, Madison then goes to throw Jett to the ropes but before he’s able to release, Jett reverses and whips him towards them instead. Coming back on the rebound, Madison is then lifted off his feet, spun around and dropped across Jett’s knee with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker.

VASSA: “I know we all had our doubts with Jett coming in to this match but he’s off a quick start against the Madman.”

JOHNSON: “It’s still early in what will be a long, tiresome match.”

VASSA: “And this rate Madison is in for one hell of a ride.”

With Madison on his back at Jett’s feet, Jett hops over him and runs towards the nearby ropes. Leaping into the air, Jett plants his feet on the middle rope and springboards backwards into the air. Doing a back flip in mid-air, Jett lands across Madison’s body, executing the springboard moonsault. Jett then goes for the pin as the ref slides in for the count.

ON–

Lifting Jett into the air, Madison throws him tot he side, breaking up the count. Jett quickly pops up to his feet as Madison rolls over to his stomach and pushes himself up. Leaping into the air, Jett lands on Madison’s back with a double foot stomp, pushing him back down to the canvas. Turning his attention to Madison’s foot, Jett quickly grabs it and applies an ankle lock. Applying the pressure with all of his strength, Jett sits on Madison’s lower back to keep him down. After a brief struggle, Madison then kicks his leg straight. Not letting go, Jett is pulled up from Madison’s back and then thrown across the ring as his leg fully extends. Pushing himself up in a hurry, Madison turns around to face Jett who is just up to one knee, pulling himself up with the nearby ropes.

JOHNSON: “It didn’t take long for Chris to break out of that ankle lock.”

VASSA: “Not long at all. Jett was in a good position but Madison just overpowered him with his leg strength.”

Before Jett can get to both feet, Madison charges in and drives his knee into his chest. He then grabs ahold of Jett’s head and pulls him up to his feet but forces his head downward, holding it in place. Madison then goes on the attack with knee attacks, driving each upwards, one after the other, planting them into Jett’s face. Madison then spins Jett around and applies a half Nelson. Lifting Jett up from his feet, Madison goes to suplex him but doesn’t get far as Jett reaches in front of him and grabs the top rope. Dropping Jett back to his feet, Madison then hits him in the side with a knee strike, forcing Jett to release the top rope. In the blink of an eye, Madison then lifts Jett up and suplexes him head first into the canvas with a half Nelson variety.

Falling face first to the canvas, Jett doesn’t move as Madison rolls over and pushes himself up. Walking around the ring, circling Jett, Madison plots his next attack while taking a short moment to catch his breath. He then slides in beside Jett, driving his knee into Jett’s ribcage. Grabbing onto Jett with both hands and holding him down to the mat, Madison then delivers repeated knee strikes to Jett’s ribs. After a dozen or so, Madison then rolls Jett over to his back and clocks him with a stiff elbow to the side of the head. Climbing over Jett and hooking the leg, Madison goes for the pin as the official drops in for the count.

ONE
.
.
TW–

VASSA: “He kicks out before the two count!”

JOHNSON: “Chris did a number to Jett’s ribs with the knee strikes and I thought that elbow shot to the head would have sealed the deal… I was wrong.”

VASSA: “I think we all thought Madison was going to get the first pin right there but I’m telling you, we all underestimate Jett. At times I think it’s all a part of his game plan. He wants people to underestimate him. No one thought he would be the 4CW Pride Champion but here he is defending the championship tonight at Winter Wasteland.”

JOHNSON: “You just might be on to something, Vinny. I don’t say that often, mostly never, but this time you could be right.”

Shaking his head and telling Jett to ‘stay down’, Madison pushes himself up. Grabbing Jett by the wrist and underneath the armpit, Madison pulls him up to his feet and stomach first into a knee shot. Turning Jett around, Madison then maneuvers him into a pump-handle position and lifts him up into the air, turns him over and then slams him back-first to the mat. Stepping over Jett’s body, Madison holds his arms out to the side and roars as the crowd reacts, cheering him on despite his Unstable affiliation. He then looks down to Jett, pauses briefly, and then stomps down directly across his chest. Reaching down and pulling Jett up to his feet, Madison positions himself behind Jett and applies a rear waist lock, while trapping one of Jett’s arms. He then goes to rip Jett’s arm out of the socket, forcing him to spin around. Just as Jett is about to complete a full rotation, Madison then spins and hits Jett in the back of the head with a rolling elbow strike.

JOHNSON: “COMATOSED!!!”

VASSA: “OH SHIT!!!”

Wobbling in place, Jett remains on his feet momentarily before falling face-first and crashing to the canvas. Madison then drops down to both knees, rolls Jett over and covers him for the pin.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!

MADISON: 1
WILDER: 0

JOHNSON: “We have our first fall of the match ladies and gentlemen!”

VASSA: “Madison will take the lead with one fall to Jett’s zero. One more from Madison and this one is in the books.”

JOHNSON: “After a good ten minutes or so between these two, I’m sure both are feeling the fatigue, Jett more so than Chris.”

VASSA: “Well Jett is in a world of pain right now I would imagine. Madison does look a little winded but luckily for him, he has a few moments to catch his breath as the official helps Jett to his feet.”

JOHNSON: “Chris will get a nice little break right here. First the official needs to get Jett up on his feet. Then he needs to be in a position where he’s ready to continue. This could take a few moments.”

VASSA: “If Jett is the deciding factor on when the next round will begin, then if I were him, I would take my time. Use this opportunity to rest as well. Sure, you may have to fake things a little bit but why not. Madison is able to rest. Why not take advantage and catch a breather yourself?”

JOHNSON: “These officials are trained professionals, Vinny. I’m sure they would be able to tell if someone was faking.”

VASSA: “You would think that but Larry Collins is old. Sure, he’s seen a lot in his day but the man isn’t as sharp as he used to be.”

5 MINUTES LATER

JOHNSON: “Alright, Jett is up and appears to be good to go. He’s alive, he’s moving around and responding to the official.”

VASSA: “Madison looks a little bored having to wait through all of this.”

JOHNSON: “There was what, a seven minute break between the pin and now?”

VASSA: “Seven minutes can be a long time when you’re programmed to destroy like Madison is.”

JOHNSON: “Well wait no longer because Jett has given the official the thumbs up and it looks like we’re ready to jump into the second round.”

After a short break, the official stands in the center of the ring with both men ready to get back into action. The official then points to both before motioning his hand for them to begin. Unsure of himself, Jett stands back in the corner before looking to the outside where Carmella and Luiz cheer him on. He then nods and pushes himself out of the corner and heads to the ring where Madison has already claimed as his. Madison and Jett then circle the ring with their eyes locked on one another. Making the first move, Madison shoots in for Jett’s leg but comes up short as Jett hops backwards and then drops an elbow to the back of his neck. With Madison on all fours, Jett then turns to the ropes behind him and takes off towards them. Bouncing off and coming back with speed, Jett jumps in the air and plants both feet into the side of Madison’s head, hitting him with a dropkick.

Rolling to the edge of the ring, Madison rests on his back, looking up at the ceiling. Before he even knows it, Jett races in and stomps on his stomach over and over. Jett then turns his stomps into kicks and continues the assault on Madison until he rolls him underneath the bottom rope and onto the apron. Madison then swats Jett’s feet away and pulls himself up with the ropes but before he can fully stand, Jett grabs ahold of his head with one hand and then connects with a hard punch to the side of his head with the other, knocking Madison down to the floor. Landing on his feet, Madison bends over, holding the apron and also his head, in a daze as the official begins to count him out.

“One! … Two! … Three!”

With Madison’s attention elsewhere, Jett runs to the ropes on the other side of the ring and comes back quickly on the rebound.

“Four!”

Once in range, Jett drops down to a slide, goes underneath the bottom rope, and plants both feet into the side of Madison’s head with a baseball slide, knocking Madison backwards and into the barricade.

“Five!”

Rolling underneath the bottom rope, Jett then drops down to the floor and resets the officials count.

JOHNSON: “Jett has taken matters into his own hands and is off to yet another quick start in what is now round number two.”

VASSA: “He was quick on his feet with countering Madison’s single leg takedown attempt. Once Madison went down to the mat, Jett turned on the heat and now we find them both outside where anything is possible.”

“One! … Two!”

With Madison stretched out across the barricade holding himself up, Jett seizes the moment and charges in with a running knee to his open mid-section.

“Three!”

Jett then unloads with overhead punches, raining down on Madison with lefts and rights.

“Four! … Five!”

After receiving a few punches, Madison then wraps Jett up and drives him backwards, slamming him back first into the apron, while Jett continues to punch him in the head.

“Six!”

As soon as Madison loosens his hold on Jett, he gets caught by surprise as Jett hits him with an elbow right between the eyes. Jett then grabs onto Madison’s head with both hands and slings him to the side, throwing him head first into the ring post.

DDOONNGG!!!

“Seven!”

With Madison in a daze but still on his feet, Jett then rolls into the ring and yells for the ref to hurry with the count.

“Eight!”

Holding onto the apron, Madison is able to stay on his feet but unaware of his surroundings.

“Nine!”

Jett screams at the official to hurry with the ten count but before the official can even get there, Madison rolls underneath the bottom rope and back into the ring.

VASSA: “Madison just barely got back into the ring before the ref counted him out.”

JOHNSON: “I’m surprised he was able to. After taking that blow to the head from the ring post, he should have fallen to the floor. That alone saved him in my opinion.”

VASSA: “Ha-Ha! Look at Jett! He’s furious! He looks like a little kid throwing a tempter tantrum in the ring right now, arguing with the speed of the ref’s count.”

JOHNSON: “That boy sure is spoiled rotten.”

VASSA: “I’m surprised he doesn’t have mommy on the apron lobbying for him. She’s more than welcome to come over here to the booth and plead his case.”

JOHNSON: “Be careful Vinny, she is in fact a lawyer.”

VASSA: “I can dig that roleplaying scenario.”

Wasting time arguing with the official, Jett forgets that Madison is back in the ring and slowly beginning to get to his feet. On the outside, Carmella screams as loud as she can, grabbing his attention as if he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar at home. Looking at his mother innocently, Jett acts as if he’s done nothing but lucky for him, he catches a glimpse of Madison in the corner of his eye. Jett then takes off from stand still and charges towards Madison, hitting him with forearm smash to the top of the back. Jett then goes to kick Madison but as his leg closes in, Madison grabs ahold of it as he stands straight up. Madison then spins Jett around and wraps him up from behind, locking his arms around his waist. Lifting Jett up from his feet, Madison drives him into the canvas with a German suplex and bridges it for the pin.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THR–

JOHNSON: “He grabbed the ropes!”

VASSA: “Ho-ly shit! Jett got lucky there because if it was anywhere else in the ring we’d have a new Pride Champion right now.”

JOHNSON: “Saved by the ropes! Look at Madison, he can’t believe it.”

On both knees, Madison looks down at Jett in disbelief, who still has the rope in his hand. With his hands on his hips, Madison shakes his head back and forth in disappointment. With his mind back in the game, he then stands tall and grabs ahold of Jett’s leg, pulling him away from the ropes. Holding on tightly to the bottom rope, Jett refuses to let go as Madison’s tried to rip him away. The official yells for Madison to release his hold but before he does, Madison lifts Jett’s foot into the air, raising his knee above the canvas, and then slams it down, driving that knee into the mat. Madison then slams his ankle to the mat before letting go and stepping away from Jett. The official then stands in between the two, backing Madison across the ring and giving Jett time to slowly get back to his feet.

VASSA: “That slip up with Jett and the ropes seems to have angered Madison.”

JOHNSON: “We haven’t really seen him get angry in the ring, he’s always been determined and focused but judging by what he just did, I would say that he’s at least a tad annoyed.”

Back on his feet and favoring his knee, Jett holds on to the top rope to keep his full weight off of it. Stepping out of the way, the official leaves a clear path between Madison and Jett, in which Madison decides to travel. Closing in on Jett slowly, Madison sizes him up, stalking as if he were prey. He then goes on the attack and lunges forward with a right, smashing his fist into Jett’s jaw. Madison then swings his leg around and goes for Jett’s head but misses as Jett ducks underneath. Firing back, Jett drives his elbow into Madison’s mid-section, knocking the air from his lungs. He then thrusts upward, hitting Madison with an uppercut underneath the chin, sending his head popping backwards. Seeing stars, Madison tries to shake it off but before his vision clears, Jett wraps his arm around Madison’s head and then takes a few steps forward, dragging him along. Jumping into the air, Jett then drives Madison’s face into the canvas with a bulldog.

With Madison face down to the mat, Jett then climbs onto his back and applies a sleeper variation, attempting to cut off Madison’s oxygen intake. Madison struggles for a bit before his movement slowly begin to die down. Kneeling down beside the two, the official then grabs Madison’s arm and raises it into the air. After holding it up for a few seconds, he then releases it only to have it drop down to the mat. The official then grabs Madison’s arm again and slowly raises it up only to let go and watch as it falls back to the mat. Grabbing it once more, the official then raises Madison’s arm for a third time and holds it up briefly. He then releases it and watches as it falls downward.

JOHNSON: “Jett has choked out Madi–“

VASSA: “WAIT!!!”

Before Madison’s arm falls to the canvas, it shoots back up. With his fist balled, Madison then begins to shake it back and forth, showing signs of life. Shocked, Jett squeezes tighter around Madison’s throat, trying to put him out for good. Madison then slams his fist onto the mat and with both hands, he then pushes himself up to both knees with Jett still on his back.

JOHNSON: “Chris is getting back to his feet and he doesn’t seem to care if Jett is on his back or not.”

VASSA: “Hang on tight Jett, this may be a bumpy ride!”

Fighting his way to his feet, Madison finally stands tall as Jett hangs on his back with the sleeper hold still in tact. Reaching over his head and behind him, Madison grabs ahold of Jett with both hands. He then bends over quickly while ripping Jett off of his back and throwing him over his head. As Jett flips over Madison’s body and falls to the canvas head first, he quickly grabs Madison by the head with one hand and trunks with the other. Pulling Madison down with him, Jett rolls him into a small package, pinning his shoulders down to the mat. Sliding in beside the two, the official then goes for the count.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!

Madison then kicks out but it’s too late as Jett secures a fall over him.

MADISON: 1
WILDER: 1

VASSA: “Jett ties it up! Out of nowhere he caught Madison by surprise and put him down for the three count.”

JOHNSON: “That’s a first for anyone in 4CW! No one has been able to put Chris down for the count but Jett has done it here tonight.”

VASSA: “It’s a great accomplishment on his part but if he doesn’t do it again, he won’t put a blemish on Madison’s perfect record.”

JOHNSON: “I think his main priority would be retaining the Pride Championship. Any other accomplishments after that are just icing on the cake.”

VASSA: “Who has cake? I’m hungry!”

Jett quickly gets up and makes his way to his corner where Luiz and Carmella both congratulate him. Luiz then begins to lay into him with strategy talk, oddly keeping Jett’s attention. Across the ring, Madison gets up in a rage, furious over the fact that Jett just scored a quick fall over him. Checking with Madison, the official quickly gets told to ‘move out of the way’ as Madison bounces back and forth before roaring into the air. Hearing the roar from across the ring, Jett quickly turns his attention to Madison as a sense of intimidation overcomes him. Madison then slowly raises his arm before pointing directly at Jett. Looking down to the outside, Jett seems hesitant to proceed but Luiz leans through the ropes and calms him down. After a few brief moments pass, Jett locks his eyes on Madison with a look on his face that hasn’t been seen before inside of the ring.

JOHNSON: “If I didn’t know any better I would say that Jett seems more focused and determined than we’ve ever seen him before.”

VASSA: “We’re all tied up and the next fall will determine who walks out of here with the Pride Championship.”

JOHNSON: “Normally we see Jett either joking around or not taking things serious but I have to admit. I am caught by surprise at the sight of his face with no emotion, eyes dead set ahead on Chris standing across from him.”

VASSA: “I don’t know what Luiz said to him but it seems to have done the trick. Jett looks like he’s ready to take on an army right now.”

JOHNSON: “And Chris looks like he’s ready to demolish a city…”

Making the first move, Jett struts out of his corner, bouncing back and forth, with his eyes locked on Madison ahead. His body is loose, his senses are alert, and his focus has never been higher. Pleased at the sight, Madison pushes himself out of his corner and slowly approaches Jett. The two then stand face to face for a moment, looking into each others eyes as the anticipation builds within the crowd. Out of nowhere, the two then lock up and to our surprise, Jett takes the lead and quickly pulls Madison’s head down against his body, applying a side headlock. In a fluid motion, Jett then twists his body and flips Madison over and onto his back. Upon impact, Madison quickly escapes the headlock and the two roll in opposite directions, racing to their feet.

Standing first, Jett quickly moves in to attack Madison who just now pushes himself up from one knee. Catching him from the side with a right hook, Jett connects with Madison’s shoulder. Jett then quickly spins around and takes Madison off his feet with a roundhouse kick to the head. Leaping into the air, Jett attempts to cover Madison but misses as he rolls out of the way. The two then stand at the same moment but this time, Madison charges in for a single leg takedown. Sprawling backwards, Jett locks his arm around Madison’s head but his weight just isn’t enough to keep him down. With Jett’s leg wrapped up, Madison then lifts him up and stands to his feet, holding Jett above his head, even with the headlock in tact. With his free hand, Jett then swings over Madison and hits him with multiple forearms to the top of the back. Knocking Madison off balance, Jett then turns his body and pulls the two down, driving Madison’s head into the canvas with a tornado DDT.

VASSA: “And for the third time, Jett starts the round off in control.”

JOHNSON: “It seems that Luiz did the trick, whatever it was that he said to Jett.”

With Madison laid out on his stomach, Jett pops up to his feet as the entire arena rumbles with cheers. Looking over every side of the building, Jett takes a short pause to live in the moment before snapping out of it and quickly turning his attention back to Madison. Jett then turns to the corner and quickly rushes over to it. Ascending to the top, Jett looks over the crowd once more before turning around to face Madison in the ring who is starting to show signs of life. Waiting patiently, Jett preps himself as Madison pushes himself up. Once standing, Jett then leaps from the top and flies towards Madison, catching him off guard. Wrapping his legs around Madison’s head, Jett then flips backwards, lifting Madison up from his feet and flipping him over with a hurricanrana. Jett then quickly grabs Madison’s legs and hooks them both for the pin as the ref slides in for the count.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THR–

JOHNSON: “And the match continues!”

VASSA: “Holy mother of god, Jett just about shocked the entire world!”

JOHNSON: “Chris didn’t even see it coming and that hurricanrana-pin combination just about ended his night.”

Looking up at the official in disappointment, Jett throws a fit at the ‘slow count’ as he describes it. Standing to his feet, Jett pleads his case with the ref, arguing more than anything, but leaving Madison alone to recoup. On the outside, Carmella screams for his attention but receives nothing as Jett has all of his attention on the official, shutting out everything else in the ring. Slowly pushing himself up, Madison then stands and shakes off the cobwebs before turning his head and catching a view of the argument. Shaking his head with a smile on his face, Madison then slowly creeps behind Jett before coming to a stop and placing his hands on his hips, just watching and listening. Carmella continues screaming into the ring to warn Jett but doesn’t get through to him. After a few short moments, Jett then stomps his foot on the mat in a fit and then quickly turns around only to then be surprised as his eyes light up and fear overtakes him.

VASSA: “You should have paid attention Jett!”

JOHNSON: “He didn’t expect to see Chris there and his face paints that picture.”

VASSA: “I think Jett may have just pissed his pants at the sight of Madison standing behind him.”

Madison then lunges forward and connects with a hard right to Jett’s head. He then swings again and again, connecting with rights and backing Jett across the ring. Taking one last power punch, Madison knocks Jett backwards into the ropes and as he bounces off and comes forward, Madison wraps him up with both arms. Madison then yells into Jett’s face before lifting him up and throwing him over his head with a belly-to-belly suplex. Hitting the mat hard, Jett rolls up to his feet and walks around the ring slowly, holding his lower back in pain. Popping up to his feet, Madison then charges in and kicks Jett in the back, knocking him forward, crashing into the corner. Holding himself up with the ropes, Jett has nowhere to go as Madison closes in behind him. Grabbing onto Jett’s head with both hands, Madison then pulls it away from the corner before thrusting it forward, slamming Jett’s face into the top turnbuckle pad. Madison then spins Jett around and hooks his arm around his head. Grabbing onto the back of Jett’s pants, Madison then lifts him vertically into the air and holds him up momentarily before dropping him on his head with a brainbuster. Rolling backwards, Madison then covers Jett for the pin.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE

JOHNSON: “We have a new Pride champion ladies and gentlemen!”

VASSA: “Madison wins it in sudden death!”

JOHNSON: “It was a long fought match between these two but Chris seals the deal with this la–“

VASSA: “Hold up, hold up…”

JOHNSON: “The official isn’t calling for the bell.”

VASSA: “he isn’t! Madison didn’t get the pin. Jett was able to get a shoulder up before the ref’s hand hit the mat for the three count.”

JOHNSON: “I stand corrected ladies and gentlemen. This match isn’t over just yet!”

Looking to the ref in disbelief, Madison holds both arms to his side, surprised at the last split second stop in the count. Not wasting any time to argue, Madison stands to his feet and quickly grabs ahold of Jett’s head. Rolling him up to his feet, Madison then delivers a hard knee to Jett’s stomach before whipping him to the corner on the far side of the ring. Crashing into the corner, Jett’s feet lift up from the mat and as they touch back down, Madison is right there running towards him with a clothesline.

CCRRAASSHH!!!

VASSA: “Madison comes up short!”

JOHNSON: “Jett moved out of the line of impact!”

Stumbling backwards, Madison wobbles back and forth. Beside him, Jett barely holds himself up with the ropes. Jett then lunges forward, diving towards Madison, and hits him with a clothesline. The two then fall to the canvas and crash beside each other, down and barely moving. The official then begins to count both men down as the lay on their backs.

“One! … Two!”

JOHNSON: “Both men are down! It’s been a long match for both of them and it’s really starting to show now as both are down and barely moving.”

VASSA: “Madison must have been trying to kill Jett with that clothesline because he put himself out after that miss.”

“Three! … Four!”

JOHNSON: “Someone needs to do something here before this thing ends in a double count out.”

“Five! … Six!”

VASSA: “A double count out? Who would win the championship if we had a double count out since both men are tied at one a piece?”

JOHNSON: “In the result of a tie the championship would go to the defending champion.”

“Seven!”

Both men begin to come to and start rolling in opposite directions. Pushing himself up first, Madison makes it to one knee.

“Eight!”

Jett then pulls himself up using the ropes and gets to one knee.

“Nine!”

Both still not technically up, the stay on their knees as the count continues.

“Te–“

Madison then stands tall, out of breath but on his own two feet. Jett also manages to pull himself up using the ropes. The official’s count then stops as the crowd pops at the sight.

VASSA: “Damn that was close but both men have made it to their feet!”

JOHNSON: “I don’t know how much longer these two can go at it. It’s obvious that both of them are running on empty. Someone is going to eventually slip up and open the door for the other.”

VASSA: “The question is who. Who will be the one to walk out of here tonight with the 4CW Pride Championship?”

Jett and Madison both look to each other. Not making any sudden movements, the two just stare across the ring into each others eyes. Suddenly, they take off towards each other, running full speed. Swinging forward with a vicious clothesline, Madison tries to take Jett’s head off but comes up short as Jett ducks underneath and continues running towards the ropes. Leaping into the air, Jett plants both feet on the middle rope and springboards off, turning his body in mid-air. As Madison turns around to face him, surprise overtakes him as Jett collides into him with a flying cross-body. Knocking Madison down to his back, Jett lands on top of him and then hooks his leg for the pin.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE–

JOHNSON: “NNNOOOOOO!!!”

VASSA: “We have another kickout folks!”

JOHNSON: “Chris barely escaped a near fall after Jett executed the Jett Plane.”

Unlike before, Jett doesn’t waste any time arguing with the official. Instead, he stands to his feet and takes a few steps back, taking a short breather. Before Madison can get to his while, while on one knee, Jett rushes in and grabs him by the head. Throwing his head downward, he slams the back of Madison’s head into the mat. Turning to the corner, Jett then races over to it, climbing to the top. Once standing tall, he slowly turns around to face Madison who is still down on his back. Holding his arms out to the side, soaking in the reactions from the crowd, Jett then slowly lowers them.

VASSA: “Madison is worn down and if Jett is going to put him away he better do it right now.”

JOHNSON: “I think we’re about to see the Swag Splash.”

VASSA: “Hold on to your dicks boys!”

Jett then leaps straight into the air, as he reaches his highest point, he floats momentarily before gravity takes over. Coming down towards Madison, Jett goes for a frog splash…

TTHHUUDD!!!

VASSA: “Jett eats canvas!”

JOHNSON: “This one is far from over folks!”

Rolling across the ring, Jett finally stops on his back while holding his mid-section. Madison then rolls over to his stomach and pushes himself up, slowly but still climbing to his feet. Making his way over to Jett, Madison grabs ahold of his arm and pulls him up to his feet. Dragging him across the ring, Madison then throws him into the nearest corner. With Jett cornered, Madison then grabs onto the top ropes and uses them for leverage as he drives his knees, one after the other, into Jett’s mid-section. After landing half a dozen knee strikes, Madison then lifts Jett up and sits him on the top of the corner. Climbing to the second rope, Madison then wraps his arms around Jett’s waist but before he can do anything else, Jett slams his elbow into Madison’s ear, breaking his hold.

Jett then grabs onto the top ropes with both hands and lifts his feet up, placing them on Madison’s chest. Using all of his strength, Jett extends his legs, pushing Madison away and off the corner, flying to a hard crash on the canvas below. Rolling over and up to his feet, Madison looks up at Jett who leaps towards him, flying in his direction with another cross-body. Catching him in mid-air, Madison then drops Jett across his knee with a backbreaker. Bouncing off, Jett rolls only to then fall face first to the mat. Rolling Jett over to his back, Madison then lays across him as the official sweeps in for the count.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THRE–

VASSA: “JETT JUST WON’T STAY DOWN!!!”

JOHNSON: “This is getting to the point where one of these men aren’t going to be able to leave on their own two feet after this match ends.”

VASSA: “Heh, you said men like it was plural. We all know that Jett is still a boy.”

JOHNSON: “The same can be said about you, Vinny.”

VASSA: “Oh what the fuck ever!”

Slamming his fists onto the mat, Madison then pushes himself up in anger. Signs of frustration begin to show as Madison looks down at Jett, angered that he just won’t stay down. Madison then grabs Jett by the wrist and jerks him up to his feet and then pulls him in even closer to plant his knee into his stomach. With his grip still on Jett’s wrist, Madison then goes to throw him to the corner but before he can release, Jett reverses and whips Madison to the ropes instead. Still on his feet but wobbling back and forth, Jett waits as Madison rebounds and comes back full speed. Dropping down, Jett locks his leg with Madison’s and sends him face first into the canvas with a drop toe hold. Pushing himself back up, Jett then takes off to the nearby ropes and after coming back on the round, Jett leaps into the air and comes down on the back of Madison’s head with an elbow drop.

With Madison down and almost out, Jett turns to the corner again and slowly limps his way towards it. After ascending to the top, Jett turns to face the ring and patiently waits as Madison slowly begins to climb to his feet. The wait is long, Madison barely has any energy to push forward but does. After a minute or so passes, Madison finally stands tall with his back to Jett. Slowly turning around to face him, Madison stands still as Jett then leaps from the top of the corner, aimed feet first towards Madison’s head. With Jett closing in, Madison quickly side steps him, avoiding Jett’s feet. Madison then slams both hands down onto Jett’s body, knocking him down to the canvas with force.

SSMMAACCKK!!!

Rolling over to his stomach quickly, Jett releases a load moan as the pain races throughout his body. Madison then grabs him by the arm and slowly pulls him up to his feet. He then throws Jett to the ropes and as Jett comes back on the rebound, Madison ducks to flip him over his head. Quick on his feet, Jett rolls across the top of Madison’s back and once he lands on his feet, Jett does a backflip, planting his foot into Madison’s face before rotating in the air and landing on his stomach. Madison’s head shoots back before his feet raises off the mat and he flies across the ring, crashing onto his back.

VASSA: “DDAAAAAAAAMMNN!!!”

JOHNSON: “Jett pulled that move straight out of a kung-fu movie!”

VASSA: “That was a pretty back flip kick to Madison’s face. He’s really beginning to impress me more and more with each in-ring appearance.”

After slowly pushing himself up, Jett then goes on the attack with kicks and stomps to Madison’s ribs. After knocking him out of breath, Jett then grabs Madison underneath the arm and drags him up to his feet. Jett then applies a wrist lock but before he can really sink it in, Madison spins out of it, creating a little distance between the two. Jett then lunges forward with a hard right but Madison steps out of the way and then kicks Jett in the behind, sending him stumbling to the ropes. Bouncing off the ropes out of control, Jett then runs into Madison who plants both hands on his waist and lifts him into the air, throwing him overhead. Flying upward, Jett yells while flapping his arms, trying to fly. After reaching his highest point, Jett then begins to fall downward as Madison leaps up into the air himself. Grabbing Jett and locking his hands behind Jett’s head, Madison then falls back down, pulling Jett with him. Madison then curls his legs and as he hits the mat and comes to a stop, he slams Jett’s chest onto his knees, driving right trough him.

JOHNSON: “The Chaos Theory!”

VASSA: “As much as these two have been through, I would be completely shocked if this didn’t end the night for Jett.”

JOHNSON: “We’ve seen folks time and time again fall victim to this move but none who have been through what Jett has tonight.”

VASSA: “Madison is going to end it right now!”

With Jett laid out on his back, Madison rolls over and then crawls over top of him, out of breath and too tired to even bother hooking a leg. The official then races from across the ring and slides in for the count.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!

JOHNSON: “That’s it ladies and gentlemen! We have a new Pride Champion! Chris Madison has scored the final fall!”

VASSA: “Are you sure? We thought this happened once before but we were wrong.”

JOHNSON: “I may be old but these eyes aren’t playing tricks on me. I saw the official’s hand slap the mat for the three count.”

Slow to his feet, Madison stands over Jett, looking down at him in victory. The official then rushes in beside him and pulls him away from Jett’s unconscious body. He then hands Madison the championship. Raising it above his head with one hand, Madison stands tall but barely able to stand on his own. The official then grabs his other arm and raises it as the crowd erupts with mixed reactions.

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: “Here is your winner and new 4CW Pride Champion… ‘MAYHEM’ CHRIS MMAADDIISSOONN!!!”

“You Want a Battle? (Here’s a War)” hits the speakers as Madison rips his arm away from the official and heads to the corner. Climbing to the middle rope, Madison looks over the crowd before raising the championship above his head with both hands.

VASSA: “There’s another championship now in possession of the Unstable.”

JOHNSON: “This was a long fought battle between these two. A lot of people didn’t expect this kind of fight out of Jett but he proved them all wrong. Although he doesn’t leave here tonight with the Pride Championship, he can at least leave with his head held high.”

VASSA: “We really saw a side to Jett that no one thought existed. I didn’t even think Jett had this kind of fight in him. I stand corrected.”

Luiz climbs into the ring and slowly drags Jett towards the ropes. Rolling him underneath, Luiz helps him onto the apron where Carmella quickly rushes in to check on him. Across the ring, Madison stands victorious on the ropes with the Pride Championship. Surveying the crowd, Madison then looks back to Jett momentarily before turning back to the crowd.

JOHNSON: “Although this is our main event folks, we still have one more in-ring appearance scheduled with the owner, Perry Wallace.”

VASSA: “The time has come to vacate the 4CW Championship since nothing has been heard from Dakota. I wouldn’t be surprised if that man right there, Madison, had something to do with it.”

JOHNSON: “That’s just speculation. Let Chris enjoy his victory before you start throwing accusations his way.”

VASSA: “I’m just calling it how I see it. Tonight was a big night for Unstable, even without the Tag Team Championship match falling in their favor.”

JOHNSON: “We’re going to go backstage for a few moments folks while the ring is cleared for an appearance and final words from 4CW owner, Perry Wallace.”

 

 

 

After cutting back to ringside, the camera looks over the crowd only to show that not a single person has left their seats following the main event. The fans are still electric as they have been throughout the entire night. As the camera zooms in to the empty ring, a chant then begins to consume the airwaves.

”En-Core! … En-Core! … En-Core! … En-Core! … En-Core!”

Sitting at the announcers booth, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa look over the crowd while talking amongst themselves. The camera then moves to a close shot of them. Pointing to the camera, Johnson then takes a drink from his glass of water before looking into and adjusting his tie.

JOHNSON: “Tonight has been outstanding!”

VASSA: “You damn right it has!”

JOHNSON: “We’ve seen a couple of title changes and a card jam packed with action from top to bottom.”

VASSA: “We’ve also see a few new and old faces walk out here onto the big stage.”

JOHNSON: “There’s a ton of things to be answered following tonight. Adrenaline is really looking primed to be a big one.”

VASSA: “I’m just stoked that we have some new champions within 4CW following tonight’s events.”

JOHNSON: “We do. Rob Hewitt is the new 4CW Fate Champion after a successful match against the defending champ, Niobe Martin. Chris Madison was able to dethrone Jett Wilder and is now our 4CW Pride Champion.”

VASSA: “Two top notch matches that will be talked about for many days to come.”

JOHNSON: “Let’s not forget about the retaining champions, Jason Cashe and Art of W–“

The crowd then begins to sound off mixed reactions, more cheers than normal, as Perry Wallace walks through the curtain and out onto the entrance stage. Standing in the center of the stage, he looks over the crowd, slowly turning his head from one side to the other. He then looks back to the curtain and waves his hand.

VASSA: ”Who the hell is he waving at?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know, Vinny. We saw earlier that Tommy Knox and the security from Adrenaline have been relieved of their duties.”

VASSA: ”He should have at least waited until after making this upcoming announcement before firing his security.”

JOHNSON: ”We all know why he’s coming out here. Not a single peep has been heard from Dakota Smith all night and it’s now time to vacate the 4CW Championship as promised. Whoever is behind the disappearance of Dakota wants this to happen. I don’t think they would inter–”

VASSA: ”Who are they?!”

Out from the back, a group of men dressed in black suits walk through the curtain and surround Wallace. Trailing behind, one of the men carry a black duffle bag by his side as he approaches Wallace. The two talk with each other for a moment before Wallace turns to the ring and begins making his way down the ramp. The man with the duffle bag then gives a hand signal to the others as they follow behind Wallace, keeping a close eye on the owner of 4 Corners Wrestling.

VASSA: ”Damn, Perry isn’t fucking around. He brought about a dozen suits out here with him and these guys are pretty big. Who are they? Is that the mafia?”

JOHNSON: ”The mafia, really? Come on now, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”These dudes look serious and judging by the numbers, I’m willing to guess that they’re coming out here with Perry to offer protection as he makes this announcement of his.”

JOHNSON: ”The one giving orders to the other has a duffle bag and I can only imagine that the 4CW Championship is inside.”

VASSA: ”That or someone’s head. Wallace put a number on Cyrus’ head. You don’t bring people like this with you unless you’re trying to send a message or say something without actually saying it.”

JOHNSON: ”Wow, Vinny. I think you’ve seen one too many movies.”

VASSA: ”Messing with the bossman is serious business and Perry seems to think he’s untouchable as of late. Too bad everyone else doesn’t think so… heh.”

Once at ringside, Wallace slowly makes his way up the steps and stands onto the apron. Looking down at the security detail, Wallace reaches down and grabs the duffle bag before dipping through the ropes and entering the ring. The man who carried the duffle bag then signals the group once more. The men then surround the ring, one at each corner and one in the middle of each side except for the side facing the entrance ramp. Four men then stand beside each other at the bottom of the ramp, forming a wall with their backs turned to the ring. The man calling the shots then stands in the center of the last side and crosses his arms.

VASSA: ”These guys mean business. They have the ring locked down and the entrance ramp blocked. Wallace must be scared shitless if he needs this many bodies with him at ringside.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m still wondering why Knox and the others were released. Mr. Wallace never really gave a reason, at least anything that made sense to us.”

VASSA: ”Something happened. Why else would Wallace just switch up and get rid of the old help?”

JOHNSON: ”Beats me,  Vinny.”

Wallace slowly paces around the ring with the duffle bag in one hand and a microphone in the other. He then drops the duffle bag in the center of the ring while continuing to walk along the ropes, circling the ring.

WALLACE: ”Come out, come out, wherever you are…”

Walking to the other side of the ring, Wallace stops in front of the ropes and raises the mic to his lips once again.

WALLACE: ”I don’t want to do this but I have no other choice. If you’re watching on TV or in the building tonight, please show your face or speak up before the end of this announcement. I don’t want to do this but business is business.”

Walking to the center of the ring, Wallace stands beside the duffle bag, looking down at it until a chant breaks out, grabbing his attention.

”Da-Ko-Ta! … Da-Ko-Ta! … Da-Ko-Ta! … Da-Ko-Ta! … Da-Ko-Ta!”

VASSA: ”You hear that, Steve? The fans want Dakota! 4CW needs it’s champion!”

JOHNSON: ”We haven’t heard from him in weeks. He’s been a ghost ever since being kidnapped. Chanting his name isn’t going to bring him back. This isn’t magic.”

Wallace looks over the crowd, nodding his head as a smile appears on his face. Looking back and forth, he licks his lips before raising the mic up once again.

WALLACE: ”What the hell… Da-Ko-Ta… Da-Ko-Ta… Da-Ko-Ta…”

Wallace raises both arms out to his side, still chanting along with the crowd but not into the microphone. After a few moments pass, he then holds the mic back to his lips and shakes his head back and forth.

WALLACE: ”Who am I kidding? This isn’t like Beetlejuice. The champ isn’t going to pop in out of nowhere after all this time. I gave Dakota until the end of tonight’s show to speak or show himself and haven’t heard a peep in weeks. It’s time to move on. I said I was going to do something and I’m a man of my word. But before I get into that, I would like to talk about what happens following tonight as a result of what I will do momentarily.”

Wallace then reaches down and unzips the duffle bag at his feet. Sticking his hand inside, he takes his time before pulling anything out.

VASSA: ”If this is Riddle’s head I am going to shit. Wallace will have earned my respect.”

JOHNSON: ”Stop it, you’re being overdramatic.”

Wallace then pulls out the 4CW Championship and stands straight up, looking down onto the faceplate. Still shaking his head in displeasure, he then looks up to the crowd as the chanting has died down and the entire arena awaits in silence.

WALLACE: ”This right here, this is the biggest honor and highest ranking championship within 4CW. This was the first championship to be introduced within the ranks. This baby here has seen some great matches in her short two year life span. Never once has anyone taken out the champion, leaving her without a king. At least no one has until now.”

Wiping the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve, Wallace looks back down at the championship as the glow and reflection of the lights above shine upon his face.

WALLACE: ”In order to be a champion in 4CW, no matter what championship, one must be able to defend their prize. As we all know, we’re in a bit of a predicament right now as the champion is nowhere to be found. I have my suspicions as to who is responsible and their time will come, I promise you that. As the man himself said, everything dies. The days of people thinking they can come in here and do whatever they want are coming to an end, right here, right now. Everything will die, but not this goddamn championship and sure as shit not the prestige it has of being the top championship within the wrestling world!”

Wallace then raises the belt into the air with one hand, holding it above his head as the fans begin to applaud.

WALLACE: ”We will have a champion!”

Lowering the belt, Wallace then places it over his shoulder and begins to slowly walk around the ring with the mic held up to his lips.

WALLACE: ”Following tonight, at Adrenaline, there will be a tournament for the 4CW Championship. There will be multiple names thrown into the mix, some older names within 4CW and others newer names. New talents signed will be given the opportunity to make a name for themselves and rise within the ranks with one goal in mind… to become the 4CW Champion.”

The crowd pops with cheers as the words roll off of Wallace’s tongue.

JOHNSON: ”You heard right folks! Starting on Adrenaline, there will be a tournament to name the next person or persons to get a shot at the 4CW Championship and become the top dog within the promotion.”

VASSA: ”A tournament… I love tournaments! It brings the best out of everyone involved. I’m already getting a hard-on just thinking about the possibilities.”

JOHNSON: ”Calm down, Vinny.”

Wallace stops at the ropes of one side and looks over the crowd as that same dumbfounded grin stretches across his face.

WALLACE: ”Who is going to be involved? Who will be given the opportunity? How many people will be given the chance? These questions and many more will be answered at the start of Adrenaline at the Cox Convention Center in Oklahoma City! This is going to bring out everyone’s best in the ring and it all starts in two weeks. 4CW will once again have a champion deserving to hold this championship that rests on my shoulder. So to everyone in the back, keep your phone lines open because I will be personally contacting individuals with the opportunity of a lifetime! I don’t care if you’re Unstable. I don’t care if you disrespect me any chance you get. When it comes to this right here on my shoulder, all personal grudges are set aside. Love me or hate me, I wouldn’t be paying you if I didn’t believe in you or the talent you possess. All the drama and bullshit, that’s good for ratings because everyone loves to see that shit!”

Wallace then walks to the center of the ring and stops in his tracks before removing the championship from his shoulder and holding it with both hands, looking down into it once again. After a few moments pass, he then holds it with one hand and slowly raises the mic to his lips before clearing his throat. Hesitant at first, Wallace looks up to the crowd as the microphone begins to tremble in his hand.

WALLACE: ”Just breath Perry… ”

Wallace then swallows before wiping the sweat from his forehead.

WALLACE: ”In order to hold a championship within 4CW, one must be able to defend it on a regular basis according to the guidelines set in place for a particular championship. With all championships, they must be at least be defended at every super-card. (pause) Speaking of super-cards, I don’t mean to get off topic but I just realized that I forgot to make another announcement.”

The crowd awaits in silence as Wallace gets off topic.

WALLACE: ”Out next big event following tonight will be South Beach Brawl, where the big match for the 4CW Championship will take place. We’ve rapidly grown over our two year span. With this growth, opportunities have presented themselves to expand our television reach. Tonight will be the last of super-cards in 4CW. You all saw the poster revealed for our next big event. At South Beach Brawl, we will begin airing pay-per-views, giving us even more reach with our product!”

The crowd still sits in silence, not really bothered by the last announcement.

VASSA: ”Pay-Per-View… Super-Card… who gives a fuck. Get on with the big announcement!”

JOHNSON: ”Mr. Wallace appears to be rather nervous about the big announcement that we all know about. It isn’t going to be a surprise but for some reason, he seems a little timid to make the announcement.”

VASSA: ”If you ask me, I think he’s buying more time. Quit acting like a cheap used car salesman and get on with it already! Stop bullshitting us!”

Wallace turns his attention to the announcers booth and eyes Vassa before shaking his head. He then looks back to the crowd and clears his throat once more before raising the mic.

WALLACE: ”Sorry to get off topic, folks. You know how I can be. As I was saying, every super-card and now pay-per-view, every championship must be defended according to the outlines. Tonight, we did not have a match for the 4CW Championship. Our champion is still nowhere to be found. Without a championship match, without a champion, I’m forced to make a managerial decision that pains me. The last thing I want to do is stand here and do what I’m about to do, but I have no other choice. Dakota Smith has been given weeks to show his face and claim what is his. I said weeks ago at Adrenaline that if he did not by the end of this event, I would be forced to strip him of his championship. Well… that time has now come. With that said…”

Wallace holds the championship up and looks down at it once more. After a short pause, he then looks up to the crowd while holding the championship in front of him.

WALLACE: ”Since we don’t have a champion and we didn’t have a championship match tonight, I am forced to vac–”

The arena then blackens as the lights abruptly shut off, stopping Wallace before he can say the words.

WALLACE: ”What the fuck?!”

JOHNSON: ”It appears that we’re having some technical difficulties ladies and gentlemen.”

VASSA: ”Darkness! Hold me, Steve, I’m scared!”

JOHNSON: ”Get off of me Vinny!”

WALLACE: ”What’s the big idea here?! Security, get ready!”

VASSA: ”Get ready for what? It’s pitch black in here.”

WALLACE: ”On your toes guys! They’re coming for me!”

JOHNSON: ”Who is coming? I can’t see a thing in here!”

VASSA: ”Wallace is scared! Listen to him!”

JOHNSON: ”And you aren’t? You’re holding me right now squeezing the life out of me.”

VASSA: ”AM NOT!!!”

WALLACE: ”You think this is funny? Turn the goddamn lights on!”

The lights then come on with the camera focused on the announcers booth where Vassa has Johnson wrapped in his arms and holding him tightly.

VASSA: ”Uh… I… Steve just fell on the floor and I was picking him up and placing him back in his seat.”

JOHNSON: ”Get off of me, Vinny!”

VASSA: ”I’m sorry, Steve. I don’t know what got in–”

JOHNSON: ”HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!!!”

The crowd erupts with mixed reactions, mostly shock, as if they have seen someone being murdered. In the ring, Wallace stands with his eyes closed and face bunched up, as if he were expecting to be attacked the entire time. Behind him stood Erron WIlder, and next to him was the grisly scene – Dakota Smith hanging from a noose.

VASSA: ”It’s Dakota! Dakota is hanging in the middle of the ring!”

JOHNSON: ”OH MY GOD!!! Someone do something!”

VASSA: ”Who is that standing beside Dakota’s body?!”

The 4CW champion was drenched in what looked to be his own blood. The thick red substance dripping down onto the mat.  His body limply swayed slowly from the rope, lifeless as Erron stood next to him – a sick grin scorned across his face and eyes narrowed in on Perry.

JOHNSON: ”That’s Erron Wilder! He just recently signed with 4CW!”

VASSA: ”Well then what is he doing with Dakota’s corpse?”

Opening one eye slowly, Wallace braces himself, ready to be attacked. Seeing nothing in front of him, he opens his other eye and then stands straight up before looking down and checking himself over. With the championship in hand and down by his side, Wallace’s attention is then grabbed by the reactions from the crowd.

JOHNSON: ”Mr. Wallace has no idea what’s behind him!”

VASSA: ”Get out of the ring Wallace! Run!”

Wallace then looks down to a member of security as they climb onto the ring apron. Rushing the ropes, Wallace questions the member or security. The man dressed in black then points behind Wallace. Slowly turning around, Wallace’s eyes grow wide as the 4CW Championship drops from his hand and down to the canvas.

JOHNSON: ”He wasn’t expecting to see that.”

VASSA: ”None of us were. Get the fuck out of the ring Wallace before it’s too late!”

Growing red with anger, Wallace motions for the member of security to step down from the apron. He then locks his sights on Erron who stares back in return. Standing across the ring from each other, the entire arena goes silent. Wallace then looks to Dakota’s lifeless body as it continues to sway back and forth from the rope wrapped around his throat and attached to the rafters up above.

JOHNSON: ”Why isn’t anyone in the ring to help Dakota down?!”

VASSA: ”Help with what? I think it’s too late for Dakota.”

Wallace then reaches down and grabs the 4CW Championship, holding it tightly underneath one arm while raising his other and holding the microphone to his lips.

WALLACE: ”Erron… what the fuck?! You were supposed to bring me Riddle’s broken and battered body. I didn’t pay you to hang Dakota! What the fuck is going on here?!”

Pulling a microphone from his leather jacket’s pocket, the antsy Erron Wilder rolls his left shoulder off one of many unstable body tics that overwhelm him when under pressure. He inches closely towards the man that hired him, a crooked grin silently soaking in the horror vibe caused by his unexpected surprise.

WILDER: ”Lighten up, Wallace. I’m just as surprised as you and everyone else that your little ‘Beetlejuice’ conjuring trick actually fucking worked!”

His raspy Kiwi accent breaking with a tone of cockiness, Erron brushes his hand gracefully along the air to wave at the hung 4CW Champion.

WILDER: ”But seriously, in the midst of all this prattle and promotional shit you like to throw around, I know you REALLY wanted ‘The Butcher’ Dakota Smith back. He may be a little bloodied and unrecognizable with the neck snapping sideways, but it’s safe to say that now you’ve got your reigning and defending Champion back in one piece.”

WALLACE: ”Defending?”

With a puzzled look on his face, Wallace looks Erron in the eyes. He then glances back to Dakota, still hanging there lifeless.

WALLACE: ”Can’t defend when you bring a corpse to the goddamn building.Let’s get him down from there!”

Wallace then moves in closer to Dakota, slow and cautious with his steps. Standing in front of him, Wallace looks Dakota over, starting with his feet and slowly moving upwards towards his head. Once looking The Butcher in his lifeless face, Wallace then jumps backwards and drops the 4CW Championship as Dakota’s eyes open, piercing into his soul.

WALLACE: ”WHAT THE FUCK?!?!”

Wallace then falls backwards and hits the canvas in a seated position. Looking up at Dakota with intense life in his eyes, Wallace rubs his in disbelief.

VASSA: ”Holy shit Dakota is alive!”

JOHNSON: ”How can that be? What in the world is happening right now?”

VASSA: ”This is some shit straight out of a horror movie, Steve.”

JOHNSON: ”I can’t believe my eyes. Dakota’s awake!”

VASSA: ”Wallace better check his underwear because I wouldn’t be surprised if he shit right there in the ring.”

Erron looking the least bowled over about Dakota’s sudden ‘resurrection’, tips his nonchalant gaze up at the rafters—at something, or someone. He mouths something indistinct, and gestures a nod that has people immediately turning their heads up at his trajectory to make some sense of his motions. Someone was indeed up there, cloaked in a blur and some level of shade, turning a knife sideways at the rope with its serrated edge and cutting it.

JOHNSON: ”Is that… who… someone is up in the rafters!”

VASSA: ”Who is it?! We have a third person in the mix!”

JOHNSON: ”Is that a knife?”

VASSA: ”I can verify that it is, Steve. I’ve been in a knife fight or two in my day.”

JOHNSON: ”What are they doing?!”

A flash on the knife reflected strongly from the lighting, creating some sort of spotlight for everyone to look at fixated, trying to make clear sight of it all. And then, suddenly, the rope rips and Dakota’s body tumbles down over Erron who manages to catch him by a shoulder. As the world gasps and looks concern for the Butcher’s well-being, the figure quickly fades away to the obscurity of the rafters.

VASSA: ”Dakota’s down but this doesn’t look good.”

JOHNSON: ”And just like that, the mysterious figure above has vanished.”

VASSA: ”What’s Wallace doing?!”

JOHNSON: ”Stand back Perry!”

Pushing himself up from the canvas, Wallace then races over and wraps his arm underneath Dakota’s, helping Erron with the dead weight of his body.

VASSA: ”I wouldn’t get too close to Dakota if I were you.”

JOHNSON: ”Someone has to help and those two are the only one’s in the ring.”

VASSA: ”Erron isn’t doing this all by himself. There’s someone else helping with this but the question is who. Who else is working with Erron in bringing Dakota back to 4CW?”

JOHNSON: ”It could be anyone. It could even be–”

VASSA: ”Don’t fucking say it! Don’t even think it. He crushed Wallace’s head with a chair.”

JOHNSON: ”I am going to say it. It could very well be Cyrus that was up there cutting the rope loose.”

VASSA: ”But he’s Unstable and has already proven where he stands by putting the bossman down.”

The two then squat down and sit Dakota onto the mat, still holding his body upright in a seated position. Dakota’s eyes have closed as his head hangs down, lifeless once again. Wallace then begins yelling into his ear, trying to wake him up but getting nowhere, only left holding up Dakota’s limp body. Putting the microphone in the front pocket of his jacket, Wallace then tilts Dakota’s head up with his hand but still, nothing as Dakota sits with his eyes still closed. A member from the security detail on the outside darts up the ringside steps. Hearing his feet hit the metal with each step, Wallace turns his head back and waves him off while yelling into the microphone placed in his front pocket.

WALLACE: ”Stand down!”

Stopping at the top of the steps, the member of security looks on for a moment before slowly backing down the steps and to the floor.

WALLACE: ”Come on you son of a bitch, wake up!”

Wallace then turns his attention back to Dakota with a look of worry in his eyes. Reaching underneath Dakota’s chin once again, Wallace slowly tilts his head upward. Apparently that was enough to once again reanimate The butcher – who quickly reaches his hand up and puts it on the throat of Perry. The look of anger a fury in Dakota’s eyes as he pulls himself up so that the he is standing on his own weight, choking Perry the entire time. Erron backs off a bit as Dakota snatches the microphone out of Perry’s front pocket. He then pushes Perry back and looks around the arena, the rage turning into an almost animalistic cockiness. Dakota brings the microphone up to his lips but can’t stop himself from letting out a sickening laugh. He looks over at Perry who is now standing next to Erron. Dakota looks the pair up and down and continues to chuckle to himself, a sly grin on his blood covered lips.

SMITH: ”Did all of you… fucking maggots think you had seen the last of me? That my era of violence was going to end before it had even began? If that’s the case then I have some rather depressing news for you.”

He looks around the arena once more before setting his eyes on the 4CW Championship. He quickly walks over to it and swipes it up off the ground. He holds it in one hand and just stares into it a few moments. A genuine smile forming across his face, showing his crimson stained teeth. He then raises the belt up into the air.

SMITH: I’M FUCKING BACK! Jason Cashe…. Unstable…. Honestly I could not give two fucks about you.  What you did? Why boys…. All it did was awaken a monster in me that I had thought died a long…long time ago. This is my company maggots and I’m here to reign fucking supreme. Your god of violence has returned! Cashe can parade himself around with that glorified cock ring of a championship thinking that he’s proving some sort of point, but the facts are you only have that because you failed…. You failed to obtain what I now hold in my very hand. You’re a failure champ – and that’s all I really have to say about you.”

Wallace stares at Dakota, in disbelief, still trembling from the shocking view of Dakota coming back to life.

JOHNSON: ”Dakota just said that it was Unstable who kidnapped him!”

VASSA: ”Was there ever any doubt?!”

JOHNSON: ”Some. Aidan Carlisle was a suspect. Heck, even the boss himself, Mr. Wallace was a suspect. The truth finally comes out!”

VASSA: ”I knew it all along! I knew that only Unstable had enough balls to kidnap The Butcher!”

JOHNSON: ”Look at Perry! This is news to him and by the looks of it, it’s music to his ears!”

Jaw dropped, Perry looks around the arena momentarily before turning his attention back to Dakota. On the outside, the security team stands ready to aid Wallace but just as before, Wallace waves them down. He then slowly steps towards Dakota, worried by the result of getting too close. Slowly sticking his hand out, Wallace waves for the microphone only to anger Dakota even more as he spits across the ring. Dakota then looks around with a grin on his face before flipping the mic in his hand and handing it to Wallace, handle first. Just as Wallace wraps his hand around the mic, Dakota then pulls it towards him, dragging Wallace even closer, standing nose to nose with him. The two stare into one another’s eye in silence before Dakota releases his grip and Perry quickly back steps across the ring.

WALLACE: ”Let me get this right…”

Scratching his head, Wallace thinks to himself for a moment with a serious look on his face. Looking down at the mat for a few brief seconds, Wallace then cuts his eyes upward to look at Dakota once more.

WALLACE: ”So it was Unstable who had tied you up and drove off with you that night at Adren–”

Bursting forward, Dakota yells towards Perry, frightening him but having the rage in his voice captured by the microphone.

SMITH: ”I’LL KILL THEM ALL MYSELF!!!”

Jumping backwards, Perry’s back hits the ropes, stopping him in place. A member of security then climbs onto the apron beside him and grabs his shoulder. Wallace quickly turns to his and pushes his hand away before waving him off, commanding him to step down from the apron. Once the security members feet touch the floor, Wallace then turns back to Dakota, breathing heavily as his heart races. He then cocks his head to the side as a smile stretches from ear to ear.

WALLACE: ”Is that so?”

Dakota then steps towards Perry again, closing in on him and leaving him with nowhere to escape.

WALLACE: ”Hold up, hold up now. I understand your frustrations, Dakota. I understand that you must be furious right now but let me tell you this. I am not the one to be angry at. I am not the one who attacked you in the aisle and tied you up. I am not the one who loaded you into that van and drove off with you. And I am not the one who took the 4CW Championship away from you.”

Dakota then snatches the mic out of Wallace’s hand but holds his ground, keeping Wallace backed against the ropes with nowhere to go.

SMITH: ”No… No you weren’t, It was those Unstable fucks!”

Dakota lashes his head around so that he is now looking down the ramp, nostrils flared and pupils looking as if they were about to burst he lets out an animalistic growl.

SMITH: ”These moronic, fucking wastes of flesh walking around here like they are the god damn kings and queens of this ring. WELL NEWS TO YOU MAGGOTS, I’M THE ONLY GOD THAT WALKS AMONG YOU!…. But I will give you some credit, I mean you all did what no one else on the roster could do. And that was keep me down – because I’m no liar! I will admit that I have been beat down before. But what you vermin did was beyond a beat down. I guess you could say you gave me a taste of my own medicine…. And I’d like to thank you for that…. BECAUSE I LIKED IT! I REALLY! REALLY! LIKED IT!

All of that pain and punishment, the bleeding and suffering. Oh it was was straight up fantastic. I got to live the life of one of my very own victims and honestly that just leads me to believe that I am still on the right path. But here I am still standing… Jason…Niobe…Chris….Hell, even fucking you, Cyrus… There’s nothing more that you could do to me. You played your cards and failed – now you all better get ready for what I have in store for you. The things that you all are about to endure within the coming months will make you question your choices… For the first time I’m sure in all of your lives – you will feel regret. But that will still fail to compare what you all will feel when I have my cock buried so deep in your throat that I’ll have stomach acid burns on the tip. You wanted a war? Well I’m here to give you a fucking massacre.”

Dakota then slowly turns his back to the ramp and walks towards the center of the ring. Turning his head to Perry, Dakota holds up the championship, grabbing his attention with it.

SMITH: ”I got what is rightfully mine and now it’s time to take everything important away from them. Your God of Violence has returned and you will all die at my feet.”

Dakota then tosses the microphone at Perry, catching him by surprise as it bounces off his chest. Fumbling around with it for a moment, Perry finally locks it between his hands. Turning his back to Perry, Dakota then points to Erron and the two proceed towards the ropes. Ducking underneath the top rope, Dakota steps through the ropes only to come to an unexpected stop as Perry’s voice fills the air.

WALLACE: ”Wait a second…”

Turning his head, Dakota looks back at Perry with an angry look upon his face. He then pulls his foot back into the ring before slowly standing tall.

WALLACE: ”There is one little thing. Although you do have what is rightfully yours, you can’t just walk out of here tonight without defending it, the 4CW Championship.”

Looking over to Erron, Dakota mumbles a few words before turning his attention back to Perry and closing in on him. Standing face to face, only a few inches away from Perry, Dakota stares into his eyes before the words “is that so” is read from his lips. A long silence then fills the arena before Perry replies.

WALLACE: ”As much as I hate to say it, yes, it is so. The 4CW Championship is to be defended at every major 4CW event and this, Winter Wasteland, is in fact a major event. I do understand that you have been out of the picture for quite some time now and an opponent has not been named for you to even defend the championship against.”

Dakota looks around the ring and the crowd briefly before cutting his eyes back to Perry and shaking his head in disgust. Dakota then reaches out with his free hand and grabs ahold of Perry’s shirt, pulling him in closer as their noses then touch.

WALLACE: ”Wait a second, calm down big fella! You don’t need to do this. I’m a reasonable man! Hear me out, please. Don’t hurt me.”

Dakota then releases his grip on Perry’s shirt before pushing him back against the ropes.

WALLACE: ”Thank you so much. I have a solution,”

Wallace then looks over to Erron who stands back, entertained at the sight of him trying to talk himself out of this mess.

WALLACE: ”Now, I don’t have an official on standby. We just wrapped things up with our main event and the officials have all been relieved of their duties tonight. So right here, right now, I am officially making you a 4CW official for the remainder of the evening.”

Wallace then points to Erron as the last words roll off of his tongue.

JOHNSON: ”Mr. Wallace just named Erron Wilder as an official. What is he doing?”

VASSA: ”What do you mean what is he doing? He just did it.”

JOHNSON: ”There isn’t a challenger so why would he name Erron an official?”

Dakota looks at Erron, surprised at the announcement. The two exchange a few words amongst each other before looking back to Wallace.

WALLACE: ”And I am hereby naming myself as the challenger!”

The crowd erupts at the last statement. Amused, Dakota can barely keep a straight face. Wallace then removes his jacket and places it on the ropes while the two watching his every move. After rolling up his sleeves, Wallace walks to the center of the ring before raising the mic back to his lips.

WALLACE: ”Ring the goddamn bell!”

Dakota looks to Erron who just shrugs. He then takes the 4CW Championship away from Dakota and holds it above his head for the crowd to see as the bell sounds.

DING!!! DING!!!

VASSA: ”Is this really happening right now?”

JOHNSON: ”It is, Vinny. Mr. Wallace is challenging Dakota for the 4CW Championship so he doesn’t have to vacate the belt.”

VASSA: ”But why? He can’t do that!”

JOHNSON: ”He owns 4CW, he can in fact do this.”

VASSA: ”But why is he doing this?!”

JOHNSON: ”Unstable couldn’t finish the job so maybe he’s trying to prove that he can do what they couldn’t.”

VASSA: ”This is suicide!”

Perry balls his fists and holds them up, ready to go toe to toe with The Butcher. Dakota slowly makes his way towards Perry, not taking his eyes off of him. Standing his ground, Perry begins to tremble more and more as Dakota gets closer with each step. Standing face to face, Dakota then roars, frightening Perry even more. Dakota then draws back and takes a swing, connecting with a hard right to Perry’s head, knocking him flat on his back.

JOHNSON: ”Mr. Wallace is down! The boss is down!”

VASSA: ”Holy fuck that was awesome!”

Dakota then drops to his knees and covers Wallace. With a smile on his face, Erron then drops to his and proceeds to smack the canvas.

ONE
.
.
TWO
.
.
THREE!!!

VASSA: ”Dakota wins!”

JOHNSON: ”Did you seriously expect a different outcome?”

VASSA: ”I thought there would be a little more fight to be honest.”

Dakota and Erron then stand to their feet. Grabbing the championship away from Erron, Dakota then raises it above his head. The two talk amongst themselves for a few moments before laughing is heard being picked up by the nearby microphone.

JOHNSON: ”What is that? Do you hear that, Vinny?”

VASSA: ”I think I do. It sounds like laughter.”

JOHNSON: ”Who’s laughing though? Dakota and Erron both have on straight faces.”

Wallace then sits up in uncontrollable laughter as his face glows bright red.

VASSA: ”What the hell?!”

JOHNSON: ”It was Perry’s laughter we heard.”

VASSA: ”You should have stayed down Wallace!”

Dakota and Erron slowly turn only to be surprised at the sight of Wallace sitting up and laughing hysterically.

JOHNSON: ”Get out of the ring Perry!”

VASSA: ”Boy do they look pissed!”

Perry then grabs the microphone nearby and looks up at both Dakota and Erron.

WALLACE: ”It’s going to take more than that to keep me down you son of a bitch!”

Dakota then rushes in and grabs ahold of Perry’s shirt with both hands and lifts him up from the mat. He then drags Perry across the ring and slams him into the corner. Growling like a madman, Dakota then draws his hand back with a closed fist before he swings forward, Perry yells into the microphone.

WALLACE: ”Got ya!”

The entire arena goes silent as those words echo throughout the entire building. Dakota then lowers his hand and backs away from Wallace, leaving him standing in the corner.

JOHNSON: ”What in the world?”

VASSA: ”Got ya? What the hell does that supposed to mean?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know Vinny but Dakota has stepped down, leaving Mr. Wallace in the corner without laying him out.”

Watching in silence, the crowd doesn’t react at the odd sight. Wallace then steps away from the corner and slowly walks to the center of the ring before laughing is heard from the microphone picking up his sounds. Looking on, Dakota and Erron watch closely as Wallace stands by himself in uncontrollable laughter. Wallace then raises the microphone to his mouth before turning around to face the entrance, looking up the ramp and at the curtain leading straight to the back.

WALLACE: ”You knew this day was coming. You knew that Dakota would soon return to claim what is rightfully his. You goddamn knew this Unstable!”

Wallace then looks down for a moment, thinking to himself as he wipes the sweat from his brow. With his head still low, Wallace continues to speak into the microphone as the arena remains silent.

WALLACE: ”Cyrus… oooohhhhhhhh Cyrus… You didn’t seriously think that I would stand down and do nothing after you took that steel chair to my head, did you?”

Looking back up the ramp, Wallace then taps his head over and over with the microphone, sending a thumping sound throughout the entire arena. He then lowers the mic once more.

WALLACE: ”It was the chair shot heard ‘round the world, the moment that family turned on family for the sake of false brotherhood. I have to admit, it did sting a little, before and after everything finally came to realization and the dust had settled. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to be able to come at you alone. I hired help for protection and time after time, they failed me. Or did they? Maybe they were just something to keep you occupied. You figure it out. So then we introduce Erron Wilder, this man standing here to my left.”

Wallace then turns his head and looks over to Erron with a grin on his face. He then nods before turning his sights back up the ramp, hoping someone would walk through the curtain.

WALLACE: ”A bounty on your head brought people from all over wanting to collect. There was only one man I saw fit to carry out my wishes and it was in fact Mr. Wilder. But you see, this is where things get tricky. This is where I knew I had to create a distraction. You see, while you were ‘hiding’, or whatever it is you Unstable trash did after the word was put out, after the hit had been ordered, I contracted Erron for the real mission. And that mission was to find Dakota. With you guys looking over your shoulders, Erron was able to locate and release Dakota from the prison you locked him away in. Guess what. Now both of them stand behind me now and the war on Unstable is only getting started.”

The crowd reacts slightly, some with cheers, some with boos, no one really knowing how to react.

WALLACE: ”It isn’t going to begin tonight. I will let you celebrate the evening and stress over the next two weeks, if it even lasts that long. Come Adrenaline in two weeks, prepare for war. People are coming out of the wood work to unite against Unstable. But here we stand. Cyrus! Prepare to meet your maker and answer for the crimes you have committed against your ‘brother’, Dakota. And to the rest of you Unstable filthy pieces of shit… count your blessings. You wanted to bring a war to my doorstep well here I am with an army behind me. We may not have the numbers, but one individual possesses the highest championship in 4CW. Both of these men have a thirst for blood and the blood that you all shed. I was patient. I may have talked a big game before but in the end I was patient because I knew this night would come. I just hope you’re all ready for the carnage and chaos that follows.

And for those wondering about the tournament that I had mentioned earlier. There will still be a tournament. You can bet your sweet ass on that. Since we don’t have a qualified individual to step up and challenge The Butcher, the number one contender will be named as the result of this tournament. When we head to Miami in April for South Beach Brawl, the winner of the tournament will face the 4CW Champion, Dakota fucking Smith. Don’t be scared Unstable. My phone line is always open and if you want to take a chance at meeting the Devil himself at South Beach Brawl then you know how to reach me. I will not discriminate just because of the banner you fly. I will gladly set you up for failure and allow you to sign your death certificate.

This is what you wanted. Well here’s your chance to come and get it. No one is safe… not even you, Frankie.”

With a stir-crazy look in his wandering eyes searching the arena for a visible reaction to Wallace’s words, Erron suddenly steps forward dabbing his index finger over the microphone head. The bumps on the mic causing grumbling static to reach out from the speakers, commanding everyone’s attention his way. Erron snickers lowly and then speaks in that gruffly-sounding Kiwi accent of his.

WILDER: “As Machiavelli once said, ‘If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared.’ So if you’re going to hurt someone, you Unstable fucks—you have got do it right.”

His neck twitching to the side uncontrollably, Erron briefly runs his companion hand down across his face as if clawing at it.

WILDER: “You’ve got to rend their jugular out with your snapping finger nails so they wouldn’t be able to say your name again. You’ve got to pluck their teary eyes out from their optic nerve so they wouldn’t recognize your face wherever you may be. And if that isn’t suffice to your sick humor, you stomp their brains into pulpy, bloody mass so they have no ability for vivid recall of what you did to them. Because if you create diligent torture and don’t pummel them out of fuckin’ existence when you have the opportunity, reckoning times happen that make you wish you had. You end paying with everything you have and everything you’re ever gonn’a fuckin’ have.”

Erron gnashes his teeth, staring piercingly at the camera looming around the ring. His mug centered on all cameras and screens around the arena.

WILDER: “Doesn’t matter how ‘troubled’ you are, how ‘distinguished’ you’ve been, how many ‘nightmares’ you’ve brought or how much ‘mayhem’ you’ve caused—your little posse hijinks are going to leave you drowning in deep shit after what you did. You see, shouldn’t have allowed Dakota with a wisp of breath, or Perry to walk out after that resounding chair shot heard ‘round the world. You shouldn’t have put two of the most powerful figures in the 4CW brand together in the same page, writing your own fucking fall from grace with your blood, sweat and tears. And it only gets worse for you from now on that I intend to collect on Cyrus Riddle’s head.”

He pauses, a perturbing grin rinsed over his once surly pout like a bipolar shift.

WILDER: “Oh, Cyrus Cyrus Cyrus CYRUS… There is no defense mechanism in your body ready for the blight I’m about to bring over your fuckin’ existence. Money won’t be the only currency to which I’ll be getting paid for dismantling you into shreds—your blood, too!”

Dakota whose once snarled lips had an almost twist cocky grin upon them. He looked over at Perry and then walked over to Erron, snatching the microphone out of his hand. Erron just laughs to himself and takes a few steps back letting Dakota take over the spotlight once more.

SMITH: ”You all heard the man… I stand on top of the mountain looking down at all you maggots in the back and I just have to wonder one thing…. Are you really prepared to dance with the devil? Are you ready to go toe to toe with the last real serial killer of professional wrestling? ARE YOU READY TO DIE AT THE HANDS OF DAKOTA SMITH? I don’t care who wins this little tournament Perry has in store. Because all of you think that facing me is some sort of prize… But getting a shot at my championship is no prize… It’s guaranteed suicide.

So climb up the mountain, walk the crimson path, and when you reach the top and paradise is just inches away from your lips. I just want you to remember two words.  Everything Dies.”

And with those words Dakota raises his 4CW championship high up into the air, his vile tongue sticking out of his mouth with a grin on his lips.

VASSA: “He’s back! The 4CW Champion, Dakota Smith is back!”

JOHNSON: “He’s not alone either.”

VASSA: “I can’t wait until Adrenaline in two weeks! This is going to be a war and I’m going to sit right here and call every single play along the way!”

JOHNSON: “Let’s just hope we don’t become a casualty in this upcoming war.”

VASSA: “I don’t know about you but I’m not going to be. I’ll throw you to the wolves just to save my own ass.”

JOHNSON: “That doesn’t surprise me one bit.”

VASSA: “It shouldn’t!”

JOHNSON: “Well that’s all the time we have for tonight folks. Be sure to tune in two weeks from now as we head to Oklahoma for Adrenaline!”

VASSA: “Heading back to our home turf! This is going to be a joyful homecoming.”

JOHNSON: “It’s been my pleasure everyone. For myself and 4CW, I’m Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: “And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good night folks!”

Zooming into the ring, the camera fixes itself on Dakota Smith pacing back and forth in the ring from one side to the other. With the 4CW Championship held tightly against his shoulder, he growls with a gruesome look on his face. Looking on, Perry Wallace stands back, keeping a close eye on the situation while standing as if he were invincible within the ring with the company at his side. Erron Wilder stands in the far corner, surveying the crowd as the fans welcome back their God of Violence.

“Da-Ko-Ta! … Da-Ko-Ta! … Da-Ko-Ta! … Da-Ko-Ta! … Da-Ko-Ta!”

Dakota then climbs the corner and raises the 4CW Championship above his head with one hand, holding it high for everyone to see. The camera then zooms in on his face as he cuts his eyes towards it, losing himself in all of the eyes watching. The picture then begins slowly fading to black as the chant it still heard, slowly dying down to nothing but silence.

“Da-Ko-Ta! … Da-Ko-Ta! … Da-Ko-Ta! … Da-Ko….”

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