In a flash we get a brief look at the IWC emblem while a number of IWC combatants appear in the background, past, present and perhaps future. Running the gamut from Daemon Frost, Chapel, Nathan Creed, to Johnny Kingdom, Robin Brooks, Silencer, before wrapping up with Frankie Paradise, Taylor Chase, Rose Savior and an eerie red hue surrounding Legion.
Is there anything…anything at all that could possibly be brighter than the smile of Taylor Chase, which consumes the entire half of the screen? Actually yes, the World Heavyweight Championship that glistens over the shoulder of Silencer…Who takes up the other side of said screen.
Yep…you’re provided one of those classic side by side split screen shots of World Champion Taylor Chase…and the man unrightfully carrying HER title and the Evolution Championship contained in the briefcase, Simon Cagero…the two walking down different corridors…beating a path for the ring.
While Simon walks alone, Taylor is flanked by a grocery cart pushing Brittany Lohan…who unrightfully detains Bob in a giant body bag and employs her freakish strength to push him along in the cart.
Johnny Dollar: Ladies and gents, Johnny Dollar is here to hype what we’re about to see here tonight…Simon Cagero and Taylor Chase scheduled to have their HUGE hostage exchange in mere moments…Taylor to turn over Bob in exchange for Simon giving back the World Heavyweight Champ….AHHHH!
Susie Moore: Did you bite your tongue?
A collection of steel bars begin to rain down upon Simon’s head out of nowhere, crashing into his skull and body. A series of crates also begin to collapse on top of him, finally taking the controversial Cagero to the concrete. He’s rendered incapable of defending himself from all the crates, all the beams, all the bars that collapse from the industrial shelving at his side. The camera even takes a few blows as well, knocking it and presumably the operating to the ground also.
Dollar: Simon crushed…CRUSHED….
Susie: Wasn’t he flat enough already?
Taylor, Lohan and Bob all vanish in favor of ‘rightfully’ giving Cagero the full and undivided spotlight…though not the type of spotlight he’d like to embrace….for its his plight rather than his accomplishments that consume the entire screen. There he lies under steel bars, steel crates, and other such objects of a steel nature, that were poorly stacked on the shelf backstage. The camera films Cagero’s suffrage from his perspective, lying on the concrete just a few inches removed from his twitching face.
Dollar: What just happened? Someone explain this to me now….NOW…I refuse to be left guessing. You never leave Johnny Dollar speculating…never.
Instinctively Simon’s fingers begin to inch ever so slowly towards the World Heavyweight Title belt separated from him. Though he has no strength to lift it, Simon is able to get a few fingers around the strap, but just before he can drag it back to his body, a hand comes down on the back of his knuckles. Said foot to fist, causes his fingers to break the grip on the championship he was absent mindedly clutching at. A gloved hand then reaches down and grabs the title, slowly lifting it from the concrete.
Dollar: Whomever just took out Simon Cagero is now taking the World Heavyweight Title…the only bargaining chip Simon had for getting back Bob…or at least…one of his Bobs.
Susie: Who set this up…who….who…WHO!?!
Dollar: We better find out…and find out soon…or Susie and I will officially start pouting….and when Johnny Dollar pouts…an angel loses its wings.
The crowd is left in the grip of intrigue…wondering who took out Simon, and who has taken the World Heavyweight Title belt.
Pyrotechnics and lots of them…why…because people love explosions…just ask Michael Bay.
Bright lights, and loud music…why…because people love bright flashing lights…just ask Neil Young.
There are cheers, and lots of them…why…because people love booze…just ask David Hasselhoff.
Now that a sizeable portion of Germany has been enraged…within five seconds of the show starting…let’s get to something else that people love…the ever so adorable tandem of Susie Moore and Johnny Dollar plopped right there at ringside.
Johnny Dollar: Wow…just wow…what a captivating way to start off tonight’s Riot! Just as Simon Cagero was on his way to the ring to exchange the World Title for Bob, he was blindsided completely out of nowhere, and now someone else has hold of the World Championship. I shudder to think of who.
Susie Moore: Inigo Montoya?
Dollar: Enough with the idol conjecture…Johnny Dollar is live ladies and gentlemen….in the flesh…and might I just add…that said flesh looks awesome. I’m joined by a woman so bubbly she makes Jessica Simpson jealous…Susie Moore.
Susie Moore: Why are you comparing me to Jessica Simpson? Didn’t she murder Ron Goldman and Nicole Brown?
Dollar: Thanks for just proving my point…but enough about you…and I can talk endlessly about myself…which is why we’re moving onto what you can all expect out of tonight’s show…which is the unexpected.
Susie: And tonight we’ve got matches…a lot of matches…with wrestlers in them and everything.
Dollar: You continue to be your normal fountain of knowledge Susie. Several of those matches are rather HUGE in nature…
In a quick flash we’re taken to an image of Gavin Taylor standing in opposition to Rose Savior.
Dollar: Tonight BOTH Saviors will be in action, as former World Heavyweight Champion, Rose, returns to the ring to take on Gavin Taylor….and then Gavin’s sister-in-law….competes against Christian.
Another match advert overtakes the screen, this one drumming up hype for the bout between the Rising Phoenix and the World Heavyweight Champion, Taylor Chase.
Dollar: Our World Champion, THE Taylor Chase, collides with Christian Savior…no doubt looking for revenge on Chase for her perceived theft of his wife’s World Heavyweight Title…These two matches are going to be…PHYSICAL to say the least.
Susie: So someone is going to be asked to turn their heads and cough while their testicles are grabbed?
Dollar: Not that type of physical….but one has to wonder how this assault on Simon Cagero is going to effect the rest of the show.
The lights in the arena cut, leaving only a few flickering strobe lights that flash intermitently in time with the intro of “Can You Hear Me Boys” by Aloha From Hell, which begins to play over the speaker system. As the song kicks in fully, plumes of pink and white smoke fire into the air on either side of the stage and sparks erupt from the rafters above as the curtains part and the two members of Unity, Yvonne Knight and Kathryn Pearson, step through them with smiles adorning their faces. Both women, dressed ready to compete, step to either side of the ramp and pose for a couple of seconds before starting to make their way down the ramp.
Jessica Wilde: “Ladies and Gentlemen; making their way to the ring from Los Angeles California, they are the team of Yvonne Knight and Kathryn Pearson, they are… UNITY”
Yvonne and Kathryn slap hands with the fans on their way down to the ring, Kathryn singing along with the lyrics to the song as they go. As they reach the bottom of the ramp the two women both hop up onto the apron, kneeling with one knee as they turn in sync to lean back against the ropes and pose for the fans. They both pull themselves up and the two women then meet in the middle of the apron before Kathryn steps around Yvonne and they walk to the ring posts on the opposite side of the apron to scale them on the outside as the music drops off and the female singer almost seductively whispers into the microphone. Stood at the top of the ring posts, both Yvonne and Kathryn lean out into the crowd and begin speaking along with the singers whispered lyrics – “Listen up boys, can you hear me?” – before turning and jumping into the ring as the chorus kicks in. The pair meet in the middle of the ring and huge before stepping over to their corner. Kathryn climbs out onto the apron as Ivy settles back in the corner ready for the start of the match.
Dollar: No suspense…no beating around the bush…we’re getting straight to it ladies and gentlemen, Yvonne Knight and Kathryn Pearson…the team we now understand are being referred to as UNITY…and they have a HUGE opportunity tonight…in only their second match as a team they’ll be competing against the Tag Team Champions, the TCWC. This could put them into instant title contention.
Susie: I like them already…their both so cute and spunky…they deserve titles based on that alone.
Dollar: This isn’t a beauty contest, Susie, and if it were, I’d be the clear cut winner. This is wrestling, and if Yvonne and Kathryn, who embody that student teacher relationship, want to be potential challengers for the titles their gonna have to put on their work boots to beat the so far, UNDEFEATED tandem of Hugo Magnusson and Bash Kincaid.
Evidently Kathryn Pearson has different ideas, and she implies….no….blatantly states…as much via the microphone in her hand.
Kathryn: Hello NEW YORK!
Yaaaay…she named the city their in….cheap pop!
Kathryn: Are we ready for a show!?!
An affirmative hells-to-the-yes is heard from the crowd….maybe just not in those exact words.
Kathryn: So are we….which is why we’re out here right now to face the IWC Tag Team Champions. You like?….I know we do….But you know what we…and YOU New Yorkers…would like even more…how about a title match?
An affirmative fuck-yeahs is heard from the crowd….though phrased slightly different.
Kathryn: That’s what my trainer, Yvonne Knight and I thought….Right Ivy?
The microphone finds its way into Knight’s hand, and she gives it a few good taps before speaking into it.
Knight: That’s right, Sugar.
She pauses to listen to several fans chanting hooting and hollering in her direction, making some very lame pick up lines.
Knight: This crowd’s a bit feisty tonight…they want to see some ACTION. And who are Kathryn and I to deny you fans what you want… Which is why we officially challenge The Chase Wrestling Collective to put their Tag Team Titles on the line right here…right now…TONIGHT.
A far different type of hooting and hollering is heard from the crowd.
Knight: Now don’t get too excited people…because we all know what Adam Chase is going to come out here and say. He’s going to bring up how I just made my debut here in the IWC, and that I’m totally unfamiliar with how things work around this mad-house, and that you fans are unfamiliar with me….save for a few appearances in my student’s promos, and in that four corners tag last week….But the best way for you people to instantly become aware of what I’m capable of…and who I am…is to see me face the Champs for the belts right now!
Clearly the crowd endorses this idea…if there raucous drunken reactions are any indication.
Knight: You want to know if I have the talent…you want to know what I can do between these ropes…give me the opportunity to show you why I’m not only qualified to train Kathryn Pearson…but to challenge for the Tag Team Titles.
Amidst the rocking response, the microphone is handed to Pearson.
Pearson: I’m a rookie…I’m inexperienced…I only have two official matches under my belt….why do I think I deserve a title shot? What gives me such a sense of entitlement? Well…how about the fact that I was SCREWED out of a title shot that I earned…so yeah….that means I’m kinda entitled to one. But that isn’t going to stop Chase from moseying on out here and claiming that the TCWC don’t have to defend their titles against a bunch of girly girls who are new to the IWC sce….
Adam Chase: Ladies…you’ve got it all wrong.
Those rowdy drunken reactions are no longer of the favorable, cat-call variety, and if they were, Chase would seriously have something to worry about. Flanking him are Bash Kincaid and Hugo Magnusson, the team appropriately titled The Chase Wrestling Collective…and speaking of titles….that’s exactly what’s wrapped around the waists of this stellar team…as both men sport their championship belts.
Dollar: And Adam Chase is here, with the Champs…who are about to put these little ladies in their place. Can you believe they actually were challenging for the straps?
Susie: Is THAT what they were doing? Sorry…I was too hypnotized by Yvonne’s obnoxiously purple eyes.
Dollar: I can think of a few of her other features that have me quite mesmerized.
Yvonne and Pearson do not break eye contact with the suave and manipulative Chase, even as he prepares to be a dream killer.
Chase: Ummm…yeah…sorry girls..but you’re wrong..So wrong you’re not even on the same hemisphere as right. Who am I to stand in the way of you girls and the fulfillment of your dreams?
Wait…apparently he’s a dream maker…rather than a walking nightmare.
Chase: That’s the job of my boys here. They’re the ones who are going to take your dream, curl it up into a little ball, throw it in the waste can and kick it to the curb. See…last week Hugo and Bash, they weren’t booked…..and the last thing I want is for them to be rusty headed into Upping the Ante where they’ll have a REAL match with their Tag Team Titles on the line….So if you want to properly motivate my boys….and help them shake off some ring-rust tonight….that’s fine….You’ve got it. The Prissy Pusses versus the TCWC…and we’ll even put the belts on the line.
The crowd is ready to make cream-corn in their undershorts at the thought of the Tag Team Titles being put up for grabs in a totally unscheduled defense of the belt.
Dollar: Hazzaaah! Adam Chase ACCEPTING the offer of Yvonne Knight and Kathryn Pearson to have his clients put the belts on the line. This is major..major….MAJOR stuff.
Susie: Yeah, those two beutes fighting for the titles….and Yvonne and Kathryn get a shot at the gold too.
Dollar: Again, things going totally off script this evening, as the TCWC put their belts on the line in a match where they weren’t supposed to even defend their championships. Adam Chase getting them boned up for their match at Upping the Ante.
Susie: Te-he-he-he…you said…
Dollar: I know…I know…don’t even call me out on it.
Hugo and Bash climb up onto the apron and hand their tag team title belts, reluctantly to official Fitzpatrick. The referee steps to the center of the ring and holds the belts up extremely high, eliciting yet another huge pop from the masses.
Dollar: There they are, the belts that are about to be defended under shocking circumstances…..Quite the way to start off Riot!
Susie: Could have been better…we could have had someone hatch out of a giant egg…maybe Bob….We could call him the Bobbledy Bobber.
When the bell chimes we find Hugo Magnusson, the more level headed of the pair, starting off this match against the more experienced member of Unity, Yvonne Knight. The two step in and instantly exchange some verbal barbs before Hugo turns away with a snide grin, and then dashes forward into a forearm. Knight ducks, steps around behind Hugo, who then turns, and receives a knife edge chop, then a second, and then a third.
Magnusson is staggered but not taken down…in fact the only thing that is taken…is Knight’s wrist, used to pull her forward into a short arm clothesline. She ducks, stepping around behind Hugo and waiting for him to spin around. Which is exactly what Hugo does, predictably turning into an attempted spinning back heel kick. But unpredictably, Hugo catches the inbound boot, taking her around the ankle and forcing her foot down to the canvas. Yvonne goes into a spin, turning to face Hugo, who then rushes in with a decapitating clothesline. One that is ducked before Yvonne can become the next headless horseman…or horse-woman…to be more accurate.
Hugo’s momentum carries him into the ropes, ricocheting off right into a basement dropkick to the shin. His legs are knocked from under him and he collapses to his elbows and knees. All the while Yvonne is rushing into the ropes, ricocheting off while making the tag to her partner and diving forward into another basement dropkick, this one nailing Magnusson right to the side of his skull.
Dollar: And Unity already off to a hot start…watch out for Pearson!
The normal feeling out process is totally ignored by Kathryn, who climbs to the top rope and instantly back flips into the ring with a devastating moonsault. She crashes right across the chest of a prone Hugo.
The TCWC rep writhes across the canvas and rolls towards his own corner. The in ring instincts of Magnusson kick in, prompting him to roll to his partner. He gets to a knee and cradles his arms across his chest while Kincaid is reaching through the ropes, massaging his partner’s shoulders. Bash discusses some strategy with his partner while Chase does the same, albeit from a stance beyond the apron.
Dollar; Hugo just can’t get out of the gates against the Unity. These two ladies are hitting from just about every angle. They’ve got our tag team champions on the ropes.
Susie: Hang in there, Hugo…just like that poor little kitten dangling from a clothesline in that wonderfully inspirational poster on my wall…right between the My Pet Pony poster and the Hannah Montana, pre skanky hoe, poster.
Dollar: Hugo trying to slap his opponents around like a couple hoes, but they ain’t having no part of it.
With the inspirational words of his teammate being piped into his ear, Hugo dashes out of the corner and looks to catch Pearson with a big boot to the face. Kathryn ducks into a baseball slide under said boot then pops up to her feet before cocking back her first. She then goes for a right hand only to have her arm hooked from behind by Kincaid.
Bash then pulls on her arm to spin Kathryn around, before grabbing her by the hair. Pearson’s training kicks in…literally…lifting her foot and kicking away the arm of Kincaid, causing him to turn his back on her. Kathryn then leaps into the air and dropkicks him between the shoulder blades, sending Kincaid flying off the apron and ultimately crashing across the outside mats.
Pearson then kips back up to her feet, lands, turns and almost finds her head ripped clean off her jaw via the running European Uppercut from Magnusson. She flips completely over backwards as a result of the blow, landing on top of her face and ultimately hitting the ring.
Dollar: WHAT AN UPPERCUT!
The fans are equally as stunned as Knight at the sight of the uppercut cracking Pearson’s jaw into a thousand pieces. Hugo realizes this is just his opportunity, grabbing the hair of Pearson, leading her up to her feet and then whipping her with all of his strength into the turnbuckle. The force of Kathryn’s impact with the turnbuckle sends her collapsing forward to the canvas, instantly grabbing at her kidneys.
Dollar: And just like that the Tag Team Champions have taken the driver’s wheel…which is a good thing, considering woman and vehicles make a very bad mix.
Susie: I happen to be a great driver….You should see what I do behind the sticks of a big-wheel.
Dollar: Yes. I’m sure you’re more than capable of handling some sticks.
An aggravated Bash leaps to the apron and DEMANDS a tag. Hugo looks to Chase for guidance, unsure if he should bring in the hot head. Adam tells him to let Bash have at it, as a disqualification is the least of their concerns, and would actually work to their benefit in regards to retaining the titles. Hugo slaps the hand of his partner, bringing the heated Kincaid into the match. Bash instantly puts the boots to the downed Pearson, and then delivers a dropping forearm across the back of her neck. Forearm after forearm after forearm is delivered to the upper back of Pearson, keeping her at bay.
Bash: No rookie bitch puts her hands on me….on ME!
Bash takes Kathryn around the jaw, leads her up to her knees and backs up in order to get a running start behind a big knee to the jaw. Kathryn is knocked into a roll, ending up in the center of the ring. Bash then sizes his opponent up and gets another running start in order to deliver a swift kick to her ribs. The force of said kick flips Pearson over to her back, where she now lies in a debilitated position.
Bash bounces off the ropes, steps forward and delivers a dropping fist directly into Kathryn’s face.
Dollar: Kincaid not taking too kindly to the way Pearson hit him with that dropkick a few moments ago. She’s got him so aggressive…so amped up…so fiery.
Susie: Maybe then he should borrow Whitman’s fire proximity suit.
The always emotional Bash drags Pearson by the hair to her knees, where he holds her by the back of the head, pinning it in place so that he can deliver a series of forearms to her face. He then drags her by the hair to her feet and steps back, getting a running start for a big elbow. He nails her directly between the eyes, knocking Pearson out cold.
Dollar: Looks to me like Pearson requires a bit more seasoning…
Susie: Salt or pepper?
Dollar: I meant training, not actual seasoning you human canker sore.
Yvonne does her best to rally behind her partner, stomping her foot to the apron and slapping the top turnbuckle pad, trying to get Kathryn fired up via the Tinkerbell method, trying to get the crowd to show their belief in her. This isn’t a fairy tale though….though it could be one of the Grimm variety, because what Bash is about to do is quite grizzly.
He grabs Pearson by the hair, holding her up so that her face is mere inches from his flapping lips and grinding teeth.
Bash: Did ya think? Did ya honestly think you’d give us a challenge, rookie? Looks like your third match is going to be your last, you stupid bimbo.
Adam slaps the apron with both palms, crying out to Bash.
Chase: Just finish this trollop already.
The unstable Kincaid is having far too good a time punishing Kathryn, verbalizing as much via his shouts back towards his manager.
Bash: Oh no…no…no.. I’m like a cat with a mouse baby.
Instead of going for the kill Bash props an unstable Pearson up on her feet, Kathryn barely able to keep her legs beneath her. But the fingers held under her jaw are enough for Bash to support her long enough so that he can spin around into an Aneurysm Elbow that totally misses its mark. Kathryn drops into a forward roll right under the arm and then dives out of it, slapping the outstretched hand of Yvonne.
Bash is flabbergasted not only that Kathryn evaded him, but that she got to her corner. In a rage he rushes right at Knight who flips forward over the top rope, lands with her legs across the top of Kincaid’s shoulders, and then twists around before ultimately snapping off the hurricarana. Kincaid hits the ring, rolls across it to his feet and then turns as Ivy leaps to a standing base and then into the air, catching him under the jaw with a big back heel kick.
He staggers back thanks to the blow while Yvonne turns her attention to her other opponent, Hugo darting across the apron and trying to take her out with a lariat to the throat. Ivy ducks under the attempted blow and Magnusson’s momentum carries him across the apron right into the waiting boot of Kathryn. He’s doubled over by the slowly recovering Pearson, who then steps back before getting a running start behind another kick, this one nailing Hugo HARD in the face. He stands up straight on the apron, looking all shaken up…but he hasn’t experienced anything yet…not until a step up enzugari from within the ring is delivered to the bac of his skull by Knight.
The co-holder of the Tag Titles collapses to the mats with the crowd unleashing a very loud ovation for Unity and their offensive barrage. One that may come to a crashing halt now that Kincaid is swooping in behind a distracted Ivy. She is busy eying her last target, Hugo lying prone on the mats with her back aimed towards Bash, who rushes in, takes her around the waist and goes for the German suplex.
She instinctively wraps her arms around the top rope and prevents having the move hit on her. Kincaid tries again to snap back with the move but is unable to hit it before Kathryn rushes across the apron, standing on the opposite side of the ropes as her partner. She then slaps Knight’s shoulder, tagging herself in and leaping over the top rope. She catches Bash around the waist and is able to pull him down into the sunset flip.
Kincaid is stunned as he kicks and thrashes his legs to free himself even though Pearson is not going for the pin.
She quickly stands up, takes one of Kincaid’s legs and then steps aside so that Yvonne can grab the other. The pair wishbones Bash, causing him to sit up grabbing at his testicles and yelping in pain. Knight and Pearson then deliver simultaneous roundhouse kicks to his chest, putting the Champion to his back.
Dollar: Knight and Pearson back in control…could we be seeing them on the cusp of obtaining tag team gold?
Susie: They so need to put on some Wonder Twin rings too, that’s the only type of gold I’d like to see them wearing.
Dollar: You’re just looking for any excuse whatsoever to see Gleek.
Susie: I want a mischievous monkey dammit…give me that damn mischievous monkey.
Bash rolls backwards to his knees, looking stunned by this offensive onslaught from the challengers. Knight then takes her partner by the wrist and whips her into the ropes in order to help her build some momentum behind a big kick. However, Magnusson wisely comes to the aid of his partner, low bridging Pearson and sending her tumbling over the ropes to the outside of the ring.
She lands straight on her feet, is caught across the chest and then thrown spine first into the steel barricade. Kathryn ricochets off the steel rather forcefully and then collapses across the mats while Hugo turns his focus back to the ring, watching as Knight takes off across the ring and dives knee first into the face of his partner. There is NOTHING that Hugo can do to protect Bash from taking the diving knee strike.
Dollar: Big knee from Knight! She got all of it…but will it be all she needs to pin the Champ? Are we about to see the belts change hands?
Susie: Why do you get to be the one who does all the speculating? I want to speculate…let me speculate dammit!
Dollar: Why?
Susie: Mostly because I just like to say the word speculate.
Dollar: Fair enough.
Knight’s motivation will not be dissuaded, she takes the bangs of Bash into her hair, pulls him up to his seat and then begins to deliver repeated kicks to his chest, each one a little more vicious than the last. She then takes a step back, centers herself and goes for the knock out roundhouse kick, but her foot is caught in mid-swing by Hugo.
Magnusson slides into the ring behind her, catches her around the ankle and clasps onto Yvonne’s leg for dear life. Rights and lefts connect against Hugo’s face, while Ivy desperately tries to avail herself of this situation. The strikes do not seem to be keeping Magnusson down, actually, in spite of the numerous blows to his cranium, he stands up and then lifts up on the leg with enough force to actually send Knight into a full backwards flip. She then ends up landing right on top of the shoulder of Kincaid.
The crowd does a double take at the sight of the much lighter Ivy landing in the clutches of the far more imposing Bash. Within second Kincaid rushes forward with his opponent trapped in a running power slam position only to throw her into a European Uppercut delivered by Magnusson.
Dollar: Did you…..I’m not even going to ask if you just witnessed that AMAZING tag team move from the TCWC, because I’m sure you’re eyes are buried in your Kindle watching some horrible piece of cinematic crap.
Susie: How in the world can you consider Superbabies 2 to be crap? Their babies, and they talk…and if that’s not awesome enough, they have super powers. It’s win…total win.
Dollar: Then how come I’m LOSING so many brain cells just talking about it.
The Euro Uppercut sends Knight to the canvas with a possibly fractured jaw. But the TCWC isn’t through distorting her lovely face. Hugo pulls her up by the bangs so that she’s seated on the canvas and calls out for his tag team partner. Bash seems to be sizing his opponent up, as if snapping a photograph that he’ll undoubtedly save into his long term memory…wanting to preserve this scene. He then rushes backwards into the ropes to build some serious momentum, only to have Pearson leap to the apron and drive a shoulder through the ropes. Bash sees it coming though, side stepping the inbound shoulder and forming a grin on his face once he catches Kathryn by her hair.
Kincaid: You never learn, do you skank?
A big kick connects with her face as Bash then reaches through the ropes, wraps arms around her waist and pulls her not only into the ring but then into a gut wrench suplex that flings her across the ring. Kathryn crashes hard across the canvas, and ends up sprawled out right next to her partner.
Both Ivy and Kathryn remain side by side, mirroring each other’s expressions of pain while Chase laughs at ringside…diabolically laughs…because diabolical laughs are just something managers do…especially when he can direct it at the heckling fans…rubbing the dominance of the TCWC in the faces of the smart marks.
Chase: This is what they wanted…right…Hey…you!
Attention suddenly shifts to Dollar, who acts taken aback.
Chase: You want this too, right?
Adam boldly approaches the announce table, leaning on it with his palms so that his face inches towards the commentator.
Chase: That’s what your little viral video implied, isn’t it? That you want to fight my clients? That you THINK you can take them…Maybe I can beat the idiots under your employ over in SCW…but you can never…never defeat my boys…so don’t even look twice at them.
Dollar: Will kind of make my commentary career here a little difficult. How am I supposed to call the match without looking at the TCWC?
Susie: I do it all the time.
Chase backs away from Dollar, shaking his head at the agent/commentator/.potential wrestler. He then sets his sights on the ring, wanting a first hand account of the action as his clients are truly on the verge of decimating the challengers. Said decimation will be accomplished by Bash rushing into the ropes, ricocheting off and then diving so that he crashes back first across the stomachs of both of his side by side opponents. He connects successfully and then stands up and gestures to Hugo. His partner rushes in, gets scooped up in the process and is then turned and slammed right across the trim stomachs of their opponents.
Chase chuckles and looks back at Diamond, giving him a wink.
Chase: THAT’S talent…..not like the band of never-will-bes you signed over in SCW…
Another diabolical chuckle…why…because…wasn’t this already covered? Speaking of being covered that’s exactly what Pearson is, as Bash drops down into the lateral press.
1
To a unanimous wave of disgust, Bash pulls his opponent off the canvas by the bangs of her hair and smirks.
Bash: I’m not through toying with this tasty bitch just yet.
Hugo sighs and would argue but he knows it would make absolutely no difference, considering his partner’s mind is made up. Kincaid drags the rookie along and then throws a seemingly defenseless Kathryn straight into the clutches of his partner. Hugo catches both her arms, holding on tight as Bash swings his arm through the air and ultimately begins slapping his forearm.
Dollar: Pearson trapped….and on the verge of taking the Bridge Collapse….oh wait. I forgot. I’m not allowed to be watching.
Susie: Then here, take my Kindle…the Superbabies are about to fight injustice.
After the earlier offense by Pearson, which Bash took as a direct insult, the Fist goes racing into the ropes, building momentum. He then comes charging in at the now kneeling Pearson, who has absolutely no defense against the dropping forearm. He is on the verge of falling forward to crush Kathryn’s skull when Yvonne rolls in out of nowhere and catches him coming in with a drop toe hold.
Chase’s jaw drops as he watches Bash hit the canvas, and to make matters even worse for the TCWC, Knight swings around the leg she just used to trip her opponent, lifts it up into the air and applies a Boston Crab.
Dollar: Nice counter…
Susie: You’re watching again…
Dollar: Oh shit…thanks for correcting me.
Kindcaid looks on the verge of tapping out due to the pain coursing through his leg, but the Fist holds on and prevails. Suddenly Ivy turns her head to spot Hugo wrapping his thick arms around her kneeling tag team partner’s neck, shouting at Knight.
Hugo: Break your hold, or I’ll break her neck.
Ivy releases her opponent’s leg in order to swing around with her foot, at last hitting that roundhouse kick she was looking for earlier, but to the side of Magnusson’s skull. Hugo looks disorientated and releases Kathryn, who slides backwards through his knees, and then wedges her hands to the back of his thighs, shoving him forward into her partner. Knight drops to her seat, catches her inbound opponent around the leg and then drops back, pulling Hugo down to the canvas while Ivy stands up behind him. She lifts the leg into the air and applies the elevated crab, cinching in the Knight Lock.
Dollar: Knight Lock once again applied. Sorry, but I eventually HAVE to look at the ring, and I might even have to give the TCWC a sideways glance.
Susie: That won’t make Chase happy.
Dollar: As if I care…or Chase cares…all he’s worried about right now is watching his clients…who just ooze talent…lose their titles.
Adam is indeed focused on one thing, the plight of Magnusson, slapping the apron and insisting he hang tough. He doesn’t have to, because Bash rushes in behind Knight and before she can earn the submission hooks both of her arms. He hoists Ivy into the air and drives her into the canvas with the full nelson slam.
Dollar: The very same move that has won the TCWC so many matches has just put them back in a position of dominance….notice he’s not going for the pin here though, because he knows that Ivy is NOT the legal participant.
Susie: Don’t tell me what to do…maybe I didn’t want to notice.
Bash spins away from Yvonne, neglecting to go for the cover as he stretches his arms out to his sides and shouts to the fans.
Bash: Are you not entertained? Well maybe this will get your goose. ADAM!
As Pearson fights, and struggles for everything that she’s worth, using the ropes to reach her feet, she has no idea what fate awaits her. Adam has slid a steel chair into the ring, which is quickly snatched up by Kincaid. He slams the steel off the canvas and then threatens the official with it, scaring off referee Fitzpatrick to keep him from interfering.
Dollar: This hot-head Kincaid about to get his team disqualified…but I don’t even think that it matters to the TCWC…they retain their titles either way. But at least this way he gets to indulge his sick misogynistic impulses on a defenseless Pearson.
Adam actually insists that he take Kathryn’s head off with the chair, ensuring his team walks out of here tonight with the Tag Team Titles. The chair is raised aloft, right over Kincaid’s head as he now rushes right at Pearson and swings the steel into the back of her skull…or more accurately…right into the top rope…because Kathryn moved out of the way at the last second. The steel smacks against the top rope and then flies back and slams directly into Bash’s face.
Dollar: BACKFIRE…literally.
Susie: The chair just bit the hand that feeds it.
Dollar: That’s right, it just ricocheted right back into Bash’s face.
Susie: Though I wonder what the chair eats…butts?
The collision of steel to skull leaves Bash positively zombified staggering around the ring like he were just bitten by the undead. He then turns in a mindless state towards Pearson, who catches him by the wrist, wedges a foot to his chin and then drops to her back, delivering the Cool It, Bitch.
Dollar: She hit that boot…that very same boot which got her the win at Awakening over Plop!
Bash collapses to his back just as Pearson grabs his legs and flips over into a jacknife cover. The crowd definitely IS entertained but not by Bash’s impulsive behavior, but by the sight of Pearson closing in on the titles.
1
2
3
Adam Chase was three fifths of the way into the ring but reacted too late to prevent the truly inconceivable from happening…forced to watch with wide eyes and dropped jaw as his clients officially lose the Tag Team Titles.
Dollar: UN-BE-LIEVABLE!
The fans are absolutely ecstatic at the sight of Pearson pinning Kincaid to bring the Tag Team Championships to Unity in only their second match in the IWC. They aren’t the only ones elated though, evident by the expression on Kathryn’s face. She flops over to her knees and raises fists high in victory, her eyes immediately clotting with emotion.
Dollar: She’s done it…she has done it…she has fulfilled her dream here tonight…she has proven that she definitely belongs in this company by becoming one half of the IWC Tag Team Champions!
Susie: If my tear ducts were capable of producing tears, I would so be crying right now. But I ran out of tears after watching My Girl and realizing I had to sit through 102 minutes worth of crap to finally see Macaulay Culkin die.
Dollar: And Pearson just killed the undefeated streak of the TCWC, in the process winning the Tag Team Titles…This is massive…this is huge….this is the way you kick off Riot!
Susie: True, but some break dancing might be nice.
With tear in eye Pearson rises to her feet and is immediately handed the Tag Team Title belt by a recovered Knight of all people, making this moment even more emotional. She throws the belt over Kathryn’s shoulder and then pulls her head into a hug, student and teacher embracing with the championships. This sincere display of emotions only ends when Hugo comes back into the fold, limping towards the chair, snatching it up and threatening the new champions with it.
They quickly roll to the outside and continue their celebration to the delight of the masses. Pearson and Knight once again hug at the bottom of the ramp while holding their tag team titles high…HIGH above their heads.
Dollar: This is simply indescribable. The Chase Wrestling Collective have just lost the tag team titles in a match that wasn’t even scheduled to be for the belts. Adam has to be kicking himself at this point.
No….he’s kicking the bottom rope and the turnbuckle pad…and even Fitzpatrick in the shin once the referee informs him that he did count to three. Bash is back to his feet, staggering around and almost loosing his footing before he grabs Fitzpatrick by the shirt, about to do far worse than kick him in the shin. Hugo throws the chair down on the outside mats as he falls to his knees, hands on top of his head and eyes bulging from their sockets…forced to watch as Pearson and Knight celebrate on their way up the ramp with the championships in their clutches.
Dollar: That’s right TCWC, you’ve lost…you’ve lost the Tag Team Titles…But how is this going to effect BOTH of the triple threat tag team matches at Upping the Ante? And more importantly…MY shot at the titles?
Susie: It’s always you…you…you….what about me?
Dollar: What about you?
Susie: I just want attention.
The celebration…the feel good moment…all the hype…the coronation of the new Tag Team Champions…it all gets the crowd fired up like never before. And speaking of fired up…speaking of burning intensity…that’s precisely what we see out of Adam Chase, and his collective. He cannot stand the sight on the stage as Ivy and Kathryn actually tip their title belts against one another like they were champagne glasses.
Dollar: Just an unbelievable start to tonight’s show…Unity, out of nowhere, wins the straps…new Champions anointed, and the TCWC going apeshit as a result.
The fans just cannot believe the way this telecast has started, watching the title celebration continue before the show finally switches over to the numerous shenanigans transpiring backstage.
Rose: It had to be done…it had to be done….
A forehead is wedged to the wall…a forehead recently plucked of stitches…a forehead healing from the mass blood-letting that resulted from the malicious attack at the hands of the Blacklist. The camera draws in on his very forehead, attached to the intense gaze of Rose Savior. She speaks without even taking her eyes off of the wall she grinds her face against, turning from side to side in the process of speaking to herself.
Rose: Everyone HAS to understand…Please…find it in your hearts to forgive me for my actions…my hand was forced…there were no other options. There was nothing more I could do…Please…..please find it in your heart to forgive me….Simon.
Her gloved hands raise the World Heavyweight Title belt up to her chest, cradling the gold plate directly against her heart as she turns and thrusts her back against the wall.
Rose: But desperate times…call for desperate measures. You wouldn’t see it my way, Simon…you wouldn’t come to your senses. You…you…forced me to do this.
It’s unclear just how sincere her remorse is….sounding quite mad at the moment…and looking the part as well given the fact that she mumbles a lullaby to the World Title belt before proceeding with her disjointed statements.
Rose: This belt needs to be used for more…more than just simple childish games with Taylor Chase…more than just getting Bob back…It means so much more….has such greater importance…such greater significance, and can be used to accomplish far more than what your shamefully exploiting it for Simon. This belt…this belt that I was almost slaughtered in order to lose….
She rubs the gold plate against her once blood soaked cheeks.
Rose:…is not about to be used as a joke…but…it can be quite the bargaining chip…because it is so significant…it is so meaningful…it is so influencing. And it’s that influence I will capitalize upon. For if Taylor Chase…if Aaron Harrison…want this World Heavyweight Title belt back…then their going to do something for me…name me the special guest referee for their World Title bout at Upping the Ante.
Rose cradles the gold to her chest and rocks side to side.
Rose: I heard Harrison reveal all those little stipulations last week….the ability to name the special guest referee for his World Title match paramount amongst them. So guess what Aaron…guess what Tay-Tay…I can personally guarantee that neither of you will EVER see the Championship belt again if you decide to call my bluff…..I WILL be the special guest referee…understood?
The camera zooms in on her passionate eyes.
Rose: Don’t be like Simon…don’t leave me without options. You wouldn’t like what it may FORCE me to do.
She pulls back the World Title and doesn’t like the reflection she sees in the polished surface.
Christian: ROSE!
She looks up from her reflection to a sight she truly has no trouble gendering upon…her husband. A genuine look of alarm is exuded from Savior’s face.
Christian: What…what have you done…
Now she even has trouble looking into the eyes of her husband.
Rose: What needed to be done.
She turns to leave…wanting to discuss this no further before Christian takes the World Title and rips it out of her clutches. She spins around with a shocked expression on her face.
Christian: You’re not thinking clearly…Attacking Simon…it wasn’t necessary.
Rose: I’m tired of waiting Christian…I’m not about to hesitate any longer to take back what I’m owed…what’s mine…even if it means going through Simon…It doesn’t matter who….WHO stands between me and the championship.
Christian: Don’t you realize what this title did to you….Rose…what it almost cost you? It turned you into a target…
Rose: I can handle it…
Christian: Is that why I had to watch you carted out of the building in an ambulance?
Rose: Just give me back the title and let me handle things toni…
Christian: No…I’m sorry…..but I can’t….just can’t…let me hold onto the title…
Rose: No…then that turns YOU into a target. I can’t have that on my conscious.
Christian: Too bad…cause that’s what happening….right now!
He turns and walks away with Rose desperately clawing at his clothing.
Rose: Christian…no…no…where are you going!?! Bring it back….CHRISTIAN!
Christian: This is for your own protection, Rose.
All Savior can do is watch as Christian walks away with the championship, her lips quivering in rage.
EMTS are busy checking over and evaluating Simon Cagero, having cleared the crates and the steel pipes away from his mangled body. In spite of having so many objects dumped directly on him with bone crunching and concussive results, Simon is STILL pushing himself up to his elbows and knees…naturally against doctor’s orders.
EMT: Mr. Cagero please…please don’t get up….please stay down.
Simon: Fuck yourself.
EMT: Simon…you might have a concussion…PLEASE!
Simon: Do I have to repeat myself?
Every set of hands that nears him are swatted away as Simon reaches out and grabs at the very industrial shelving the objects that caused him such pain came tumbling down from. He uses it as a makeshift crutch, leaning against the shelves in order to maintain his body weight. He also puts a considerable amount of pressure upon the briefcase holding the Evolution Championship.
Simon: Where the fuck did she go?
EMT: Who?
He gives the EMT a very traumatizing stare.
Simon: You’re fucking useless.
Instead of swatting hands away, now the EMT’s whole body is swatted aside, knocked to the ground so that Simon can stagger past him, almost losing his footing, tipping over due to the weight of the briefcase. He’s forced to lean on the crates and the wall as he tries to track down Rose Savior and the pilfered World Heavyweight Championship.
MOMENTS AGO
A still frame image provides a clip of the previous match…one that filled the quota for shock value…and did so in record time. Said image is of Pearson and Knight standing in the ring hot potating the microphone between them.
Dollar: Didn’t take long, did it Susie?
Susie: For what? To lose my baby teeth? Actually, I still have quite a few.
Dollar: No…for things to quickly degenerate into total insanity this evening. Not only have we found out that Rose Savior was the one who took out Simon Cagero and stole the World Heavyweight Title…but just before the break the team of Unity, Yvonne Knight and Kathryn Pearson were slated to take on the Tag Team Champions in a non title match, but that changed in quite the hurry.
We relive the two making the challenge to the TCWC to put their titles on the line, and Adam Chase agreeing to the terms and stipulations on behalf of his team. The video proceeds, with Kincaid and Magnusson beating down their potential challengers.
Dollar: Bash and Hugo controlled their challengers for the majority of the match until Bash’s hot headed nature cost his team severely.
A chair wielding Kincaid swings a steel chair at Kathryn’s head only to have it ricochet off the ropes and smack him directly into his face, causing him to turn into the Cool It, Bitch, and eventually leading to a stunning title switch.
Dollar: And in an absolute shocker, Pearson picked up the win for her team and as a result, she and Yvonne are the NEW Tag Team Champions here in….
Chase: That’s plenty enough!
Video ends and we’re back in the ring where Adam Chase is pacing, microphone in hand and steam shooting from beneath the loosened collar of his shirt. His jacket, thrown to the canvas, being stomped all over by the furious Agent. His clients, kneeling beside him, being walked all over by the crowd. His composure, totally and completely lost.
Chase: Don’t even bother rehashing what just happened out here, and you fans, don’t even bother remembering what you just saw. Cause it’s gonna be stricken from your memories anyways, just like it’ll be stricken from the record books. That whole title change, it never happened…it NEVER happened!
Adam is continuing to make a feeble attempt at expunging this loss.
Chase: Unity….pfft….they are NOT Tag Team Champions. Those bosom heavy bimbos will never be in the league of Bash Kincaid and Hugo Magnusson….and the TCWC, they’re gonna prove it…they want their rematch for the titles…and they want it right now!
Dollar: Seriously? Can he do this so arbitrarily? When did he get the right to book title matches?
Susie: He was wearing a tie….people with ties tend to call all the shots.
Dollar: By that logic, I should be the one booking all the matches. Hmmmm….that sounds almost too wonderful to be true.
Chase: If Kathryn Pearson and Yvonne Knight are not dragged to this ring right now…I will have no other option but to sue the IWC for all its worth…for the slandering of my clients…for providing unsafe working conditions…for….
Porno Lad: For refusing to let me take a day off work for Festivus?
The fans are reacting like they were just hit with a hypodermic needle full of steroids straight to the heart. They get all pepped up at the sight of Porno Lad stutter stepping through the curtains with microphone in hand and defiance in his eyes.
Porno Lad: That is basis for a lawsuit…but all that other crap…it isn’t. And frankly, that’s all you seem to be spewing out here, Chase…more crap than the vomit flying out of Linda Blair’s mouth during the Exorcist.
To everyone’s surprise, especially the former Tag Champions, Porno Lad rolls right into the ring with them and then leaps to his feet. He refuses to back down, standing his ground even amongst three men who would quite enjoy having his head on a pike.
Porno Lad: As the MEGA-FACE of the IWC, I’m out here to call you three out on your bull-malarkey…I would have used an expletive there…but being the face of the company means I don’t speak in vulgar terms…might upset the poor impressionable children…then I wouldn’t sell nearly as many of these…
He points to the colorful wrist bands with his trademark emblem on them.
Porno Lad: The two of you need to take the starch of your boxers…
Now he’s addressing Bash and Hugo in particular, the two men inching ever so much closer to him.
Porno Lad:….and realize that you’re about as entitled to a match for the championship as Piddle & Plop…or the Bushwackers…God help me the levels of awesomeness that would rain down upon IWC if we had the Bushwackers in all their face licking wackiness. But that’s neither here, nor there. As the top face…the merch seller and seat filler…I’m entitled to certain perks. And one of those perks being…the ability to make challenges that no one in a million years would be able to get away with if their face wasn’t so ratings grabbing. So yeah, step aside you boob-heads…see, I have to speak in child friendly insults here…and let Porno Lad challenge for the IWC Tag Team Titles. I’M calling out Unity, and I’M ordering them to defend their belts against me…right now.
Chase: And what makes you think we’re about to let that happen?
Porno Lad: Go ahead, make threats…but realize that as the Mega-Face, I can easily beat two people who have been teaming together for years all by myself…in an act that totally defies logic…and I’ll do it in the process of only hitting five moves. Why? Because I’m more over than The Chase Wrestling Collective…and the IWC doesn’t want to piss off that precious 5-13 year old demographic that kisses the very ground I walk on.
Chase: Bash….Hugo….please escort this ego maniac out of my ring. And while your at it, grab Unity, and drag their carcasses back out here so that we can regain our championships.
The two step forward but suddenly pause when they find themselves staring not at Porno Lad, but the man who has rolled into the ring behind him. The Trailer Park Kid has arrived, but not alone, cause he’s not only joined by Black Magic Woman, but has snatched the chair off the mats at ringside and is holding it at the ready. Bash and Hugo slowly back down, primarily at the behest of Chase, who wants to see no further damage done to his clients…especially not at the hands of TPKid, the chair wielding lunatic. Porno Lad watches them back down with a big grin forming on his face.
Porno Lad; That’s right, walk away…you know I was about to hit the five knuckle shuffle on your asses.
TPKid: ETHAN!
Porno Lad yelps and almost leaps right out of his flesh, turning around and lifting fists at the ready in the direction of the man who has come to his aid in consecutive weeks.
Dollar: The Chase Wrestling Collective just cleared from the ring by the Trailer Park Kid…who is trying to earn his way into the Tag Title match at Upping the Ante….fat chance of that happening…I mean…there’s no way Porno Lad will NOT respond to my viral vid from last week.
Susie: I know I responded to it, hence why I had to go out and buy new panties after the show.
Dollar: Maybe the most disgusting thing I’ve heard this week.
Adam wisely keeps Hugo and Bash at bay, backing them around the stage and up the ramp, shouting into the faces of his clients.
Chase: You need to save your energy dammit. Conserve your strength for the title match…not peons like these.
The trio walks away to fight another day, which will be tonight, should Chase have his way. They leave TPKid and Porno Lad to do their thing, which may just end with their destruction without the need for the TCWC to even lift a finger.
Porno Lad: Oh hey…alright…which one do you want me to sign?
Porno Lad always has a marker handy to sign autographs, and now looks to put his name right on one of TPKid’s pecs.
TPKid: Not out here for an autograph, Chief.
Porno Lad: Photo op then?
TPKid: No man…you know why I’m here.
Porno Lad appears absolutely clueless.
TPKid: I think I deserve some answers. I know…I know…your super awesome and what-not…and you think I’m beneath you….which is why you haven’t bothered to give me an answer. Yes or no.
Porno Lad: Thought I already told you my stance on shower rapes.
TPKid: No more joking around.
The annoyed Trailer Park Kid is deadly serious on this exchange, especially when he’s flanked by Black Magic Woman. She is apparently the fuel that ignites his desires for answers.
TPKid: I’ve been watching your back since the meeting we had a couple weeks ago….I’ve upheld my end of the bargain…now it’s your turn, Chief, am I going to be your tag team partner or not? We challenging for the titles or aren’t we?
Porno Lad thinks about it…and thinks about it…and hmmm…seems to think about it some more.
TPKid: If it’ll help, I’ll totally throw some paint on my face, and then start rambling about the Warrior’s, and maybe I’ll even star in a video with Phil Collins…or…OR…maybe I can put some streamers on my pants, throw a colorful top-hat on and SNAP INTO A SLIM JIM! That way we can officially become…not the Mega-Powers…but the MEGA-FACES!
The mechanizing opportunities this name seems to open up to Porno Lad has him positively mystified. He opens his mouth to react…no more time…no more need…for thought…TPKid has won him over.
Dollar: Are you flipping nutters?
Susie: Where you going, Johnny, don’t leave me, I’ll be lonely.
Attention shifts to the announce table, where Johnny Dollar is on his feet, and using them to carry him right up the steps, replacing his head-set for a microphone.
Dollar: You’re about to pick this mutton chop, greasy haired, meth making-crack smoking-welfare collecting-wife beating-Pabts Blue Ribbon drinking-REDNECK as your partner, instead of me, ME, someone with class, sophistication, and cufflinks that probably cost more than TPKid’s mobile home?
BMW is held back by TPKid, but she’s in full flip out mode, removing her ear rings and everything, and if she had on high heels she would be telling her boyfriend to hold them right now. In spite of the physically imposing figure wanting to rip Dollar’s eyes out, the commentator and super agent slips through the ropes and into the ring, continuing to direct his statements to Porno Lad and Porno Lad alone.
Dollar: Think about it, Porno Lad, I’m a millionaire…a millionaire with connections. I can make all your fondest dreams come true. You want to be the Mega-Face, I can make that happen. You want to ride around in the original Adam West Bat-Mobile, I’ll make sure you get that opportunity. And if you want to win titles, I’m the man with the talent to see to it that that happens.
Dollar had him at Adam West, but Porno Lad continues to play hard to get.
Dollar: Did you not see my video last week? How could that not have bowled you over? You know what. Here…here…let’s play it again. Geeks in the production truck…play the footage again…I said PLAY IT!
This coming “Upping the Ante”, there promises to be a lot on the line. And with such high stakes, such as bringing tag team champions into the mix, don’t you want a strong and dependent person to bring such greatness?
Johnny Dollar, the richest man in SCW and IWC. A man of wealth and integrity.
A man not afraid to fight for what he believes in.
A man for you and a man for all of IWC.
A man who isn’t afraid to voice his wishes on tag team title gold.
Johnny Dollar for Porno Lad’s partner at Upping the Ante. The richest man. The richest choice. Richest…period.
Paid for by the Million-Dollar Corporation and The Bottom Dollar.
Porno Lad strokes his stubble while Johnny leans back against the ropes oh so casually, quite enjoying his viral masterpiece.
Dollar: Seriously? How can you watch that, Porno Lad, and NOT be convinced that I’m your best option when it comes to facing the Tag Team Champions…be it tonight, or at the pay-per-view. I can make you rich beyond your wildest dreams. I can step up and do what none of your former partners have been able to, and make sure that trim waist is all blinged out by Tag Team gold. So what say you sweetheart, Johnny Dollar and Porno Lad…Tag Team Champions…the Million-Dollar-Faces!
Again Porno Lad is blinded by the thought of the millions and millions he would earn from marketing that tag team name, placed on t-shirts, foam fingers, and fluffy wrist bands…not unlike the ones he’s wearing.
Porno Lad: You know what, the two of you make pretty compelling arguments…and are marketing geniuses….but at the end of the day, I can only pick one of you. If only I had some roses to hand out to you guys for the whole elimination process.
TPKid: Why are you listening to this fu Manchu wearing bitch? I’ve already proven that I’m trustworthy, that you can rely on me. Plus I showed last week that I can be all chivalrous and stuff. I could have slaughtered that hoe-beast, Krista Lewis, last week, but I let her get off easy with a count-out. Come on man, just do the right thing, pick me…the guy who’s had your back…the guy who believes in saving this company from all the big bad bull-MALARKERS on this roster.
Porno Lad: Good point, and good use of language that won’t offend our PG audience.
TPKid: I can so be PG….I’ll put on a sweater, play with puppets, and ask you to be my neighbor if necessary.
Dollar: No…no…I can be way more PG than this greasy geek.
Porno Lad is grabbed by one of his fuzzy wrist bands and pulled towards Dollar.
Dollar: I can be downright rated ‘G.’ That’s actually my wrestling nickname, ‘Rated G’ Johnny D. See, that stuff rhymes and everything, and kids love rhymes.
TPKid: What do you want me to do, put on a friggin purple dinosaur suit and sing lullabies?
The other wrist of Porno Lad is grabbed as he’s tugged by the Trailer Park Kid.
TPKid: You need to pick me to challenge for the titles.
Dollar: He’ll get you nowhere, Porno Lad, absolutely nowhere, I can take you instantly to the top.
The tug of war ends before Porno Lad can be split in two. He finally rips away from both men and then moves to placate the both of them.
Porno Lad: Ya’know what guys? I think…no…I KNOW that I have a way to solve this problem. How about the both of you prove yourselves tonight by facing each other…
Dollar is not dressed to compete and as thus instantly tries to counter the offer with one of his own…but TPKid, he has no trouble at all, going at it with the stuffy aristocrat.
Porno Lad: But not just in any type of singles match…that doesn’t prove how tough you are. Instead, let’s make this….a handicap match, so I can see how each of you work well with a teammate. And your teammate tonight, win this handicap match will be….PORNO LAD!
The crowd expresses delight at the thought of seeing the Original Prankster compete alongside either Dollar or TPKid tonight. BUT…which one? Who’s going to be facing the uphill battle of facing a two on one advantage, one opponent being the very man they’re trying to win over. Before they can get an answer, Porno Lad is already gesturing to the back, and official Stuart Wright is rushing down the ramp and sliding into the ring.
Porno Lad: So let’s see who impresses me the most, and will go on to team with me for the belts…let’s do this.
The Original Prankster steps aside while Dollar and TPKid are still fussing at him for further clarity, wanting to know which one of them Porno Lad will be teaming with. Before they get an explanation, Porno Lad slips through the ropes and takes residency in the corner of Trailer Park Kid, giving him the obligatory “You” finger poke. This prompts TPKid to smirk then deliver a swift kick to the ribs of Johnny.
Susie: Uhhh…ooooh….jeezal Petes…looks like I’ll be the one handling commentator duties tonight, but we need a two person team here, just not the same with one announcer. So how about ummm…uhhh…I replace Johnny Dollar with uhhhh…this tore up Porno Lad plushie I rescued a few weeks ago.
The stitched together plushie is taken out from under the announce table and placed on the chair beside her, Susie sliding a headset over its ears.
Susie: What do you think of this match, Porno Lad plushie?
She now speaks out of the corner of her mouth, and tries to emulate a male’s voice.
Porno Lad Plushie: I think it’s wicked stuff, Susie…and might I add, I so dig your pink finger nail polish…it just pops.
Susie: Why thank you, Porno Lad plushie…that’s so thoughtful.
The bell chimes at the behest of Referee Wright, and the action picks up as TPKid drills the jaw of Dollar over and over again with some right hands, finally closing the millionaire’s mouth. He then delivers another boot to Johnny’s gut and connects with a head butt. There is nothing very fancy about his offense, but its very effective. He then takes Johnny by the wrist and whips the commentator across the ring into the far ropes. He bounces off and TPKid bends down to catch him with the back drop. However, Johnny shocks Kid by twisting his body, falling back first on top of the stooped over opponent’s back, and then flipping over. He lands right on his feet then takes Trailer Park Kid around the waist, going for God only knows what. But a back elbow to the teeth stops that from happening.
Susie: Wow…Johnny looks like he can do in that ring.
Plushie: Good observation, Susie, you’re as smart as you are beautiful.
Susie: Awww….you’re gonna give me a swelled head, Plushie.
Johnny backs away and falls to his knee into the ropes, leaning on them while grabbing at his lip. TPKid then turns and steps towards Porno Lad, who has his hand outstretched for the tag. It’s slapped because Kid wants to show that he can be a team player.
Porno Lad hops over the top rope and then rushes across the ring at a rising, ailing Dollar, catching him to the face with a forearm. He brings Dollar to a knee and then begins to deliver stomp after stomp to his chest while he’s leaning against the cables. He then drags him away from the ropes, places him in a front chancery and snaps over into the vertical suplex. Instead of going for the pin, Porno Lad rolls to his feet, charges to his partner and tags TPKid back in.
BMW shouts at her man to finish this match as TPKid rushes into the ring and catches a rising Dollar with another series of blatant closed fists to the face. He then spins around and goes for the classic discus clothesline, but Johnny ducks at the last second, before reaching back, hooking his opponent’s arms and dragging him down into the backslide.
1
TPKid rolls back out of the pinning predicament and to his feet, then rushes at Dollar, who surprises him by crawling right through his legs. He then stands up, catches the armpits of Kid, then drags him down into ANOTHER backslide.
1
2
TPKid kicks out, drops to his knees and then rushes at Dollar, kicking him in the chest to cause him to pop up to his knees. He then places him in another front chancery, hoists him up to his feet, then into a suplex. But Dollar flips over the shoulder, landing surprisingly on his feet then reaching back and hooking the biceps of his opponent, he backslides him down to the canvas AGAIN.
1
2
Trailer Park Kid kicks out by dropping over to his side while Dollar rolls right along behind him, wrapping his legs around the far arm of his opponent while hooking the other. A stunned Trailer Park Kid is dragged over backwards into a crucifix style pinning predicament.
1
2
TPKid kicks out AGAIN.
Susie: Wow…had no idea Johnny was capable of this. He’s a much better wrestler than anyone would have ever suspected.
Plushie: Not as good a wrestler as you, Susie.
Susie: Stop…stop…your making me blush.
Clearly TPKid wasn’t anticipating this level of wrestling ability out of Dollar, who steps into the ring for the first time in his IWC career and is really displaying a load of talent. The moment after he kicks out, TPKid rushes back to his feet, catches the rising Dollar around the head then snaps back into a gruesome DDT.
The top of Dollar’s head slams forcefully against the canvas while TPKid crawls into his corner, looking to make a tag to Porno Lad…but he’s not in position. In fact, he’s totally out of position on the basis that he’s now standing in an opposite corner on the complete other side of the ring.
Susie: Wait…what’s the Pornster doing?
Plushie: Besides looking awesome?
Susie: Hehehehe, good point.
TPKid turns around slowly, looking more confused than ever when he sees Porno Lad stomping his foot and shouting at Johnny Dollar, their opponent, to slap his hand. Dollar, hurting from head to toenail, crawls across the ring and instinctively slaps Porno Lad’s hand. The Original Prankster slips into the ring and rushes right at the Trailer Park Kid, who is just in the midst of asking what the hell is going on here before he’s drilled to the cheek with a forearm. Porno Lad then chops him across the chest before throwing a wild haymaker into his temple.
Susie: Wait a minute…Porno Lad is the partner for both TPKid AND Johnny Dollar. Both men are competing in a handicapped match. This is…this…
Plushie: Awesome?
Susie: You just stole the words right out of the side of my mouth….literally.
The crowd is finally clued in to what is going on as Porno Lad drags TPKid in, catches him around the waist and hoists him up into a belly to belly suplex. The man who has had Porno Lad’s back for so many weeks, now crashes right across his OWN back, hitting the ring with enough force to inflict serious damage on his kidneys. He rolls to his knees and continues to implore Porno Lad for some answers, but gets a few right hands in response. Lad letting his fists doing the talking.
He steps back at this point and delivers a running kick right to the chest of his would-be partner, putting him on his back. With TPKid down, Porno Lad is free to make the tag, slapping the chest of a barely recovered Dollar.
He then dives to the outside, rushes around the ring and leaps back up into the corner of the Trailer Park Kid, eliciting chuckles and cheers from the crowd.
Dollar slips into the ring and steps to the center, hands outstretched to his sides and eyes twitching in a display of confusion.
Dollar: What’s the meaning of this?
His attempts at getting an answer are derailed when Dollar is wrapped up from behind by TPKid into the school boy.
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Dollar rolls back out of the pin to his feet and then gets a running start at his kneeling opponent. But TPKid stands up and catches Johnny against his shoulder, hoisting him up and driving him back down to the canvas with a classic spine buster slam. He then pops back up to his feet and staggers back into the ropes, which Porno Lad reaches over, slapping Kid’s shoulder before climbing the turnbuckle. The fans express excitement as the Original Prankster comes flying out of the corner and ultimately delivers a big time elbow drop right to Dollar’s chest.
Susie: This is so confusing.
Plushie: I’m sure you’ll make sense out of it…you’re brain is sooooo big.
Susie: Good observation Plushie.
Though Porno Lad might have the win in the bag, he instead gets to his feet and rushes across the ring, tagging back in TPKid, before he can even finish taking residency in his team’s corner.
TPKid: Da fuck?
Porno Lad then bolts across the ring and leaps over the ropes, taking his spot in Dollar’s corner. He then begins to stomp his foot once more and clap his hands above his head, trying to get the crowd rallied behind the man he just hit with an elbow drop.
Susie: Make the tag Dollar, make the tag.
TPKid has no idea what to make of this situation, but plays along in order to get that Tag Title shot. Into the ring he slides, crouching in anticipation of a big move. Dollar struggles to his feet ever so slowly when TPKid swoops in behind him, hooks his leg and his shoulder then drops back into the Russian Leg sweep. The moment that Johnny hits the ring, TPKid floats over into the lateral press.
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The three count is prevented by a timely kick out from Dollar, turning to his side and continuing to put him in a very precarious position. Should he keep going it alone, or tag in Porno Lad, for a five second break only to ultimately get beat down by the Original Prankster once again. Johnny decides he’d prefer the rest period, turning to his side and stretching his arm out towards Porno Lad, only to get his hand caught.
It’s forced down to the canvas and TPKid stomps the knuckles. He then stomps the other hand that was supporting Dollar, bringing him down to his stomach. TPKid then drops down and begins to apply a front chancery only to have Johnny wedge his feet to the canvas and push his body up into the air. He actually flips up and over the shoulder of TPKid while reaching back, interlocking his hands under the jaw of his opponent. He has him in a bridging chin-lock that has the crowd screaming and Porno Lad singing his praises.
But TPKid doesn’t stay in this submission for very long beginning to claw his way across the canvas. Therefore, Dollar flips over backwards, landing on his knees and applying a traditional front chancery. He then rolls across the ring, pulling Kid along with him until both men are on their feet. He reaches out and TRIES to hook Kid’s leg in order to hit a fisherman perhaps, but the man of Trailer Park lore spins out of the front chancery, catches his opponent by the wrist and drags him forward into a lariat.
A lariat that Dollar ducks under via the forward roll. He ends up on his seat, reaching out and slapping the palm of Porno Lad, who instantly springs to the top rope and takes out a turning TPKid with a big cross body. Both men go down and Porno Lad is stretched across his chest, looking for the pin,.
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TPKid launches a shoulder from the ring just in time to keep his hopes of becoming one half the Tag Team Champions alive.
Susie: Amazingly TPKid hangs in there in spite of Porno Lad’s amazing springboard cross body.
Plushie: Porno Lad is almost as amazing as your hair, Susie.
Susie: You’re too sweet. I knew there was a reason I had those EMTs stitch you back together a couple weeks ago.
Porno Lad rolls across the canvas, dashes to his feet and then runs to his corner, making ANOTHER tag, bringing Dollar back into this confrontation. Johnny slides in, looking annoyed in the process but playing along so as not to fall out of favor with the former World Heavyweight Champion.
Porno Lad then darts across the ring and leaps over the ropes, landing in corner of TPKid, where he tries to drum up suspense behind yet another tag. The banged up Trailer Park Kid doesn’t get very far before he’s grabbed by the ankle, rolled to his back and subjected to a big elbow drop to the sternum from Dollar.
The commentator/agent/wrestler…a man wearing many hats, rushes to his feet, takes the wrist of TPKid, uses it to pull him up and then drags him forward into a smash mouth forearm. Johnny then pulls him forward again, this time into a boot to the ribs that has him doubled over. He takes the head of TPKid, swinging him around into the neck breaker only to have his opponent slip free at the last second.
TPKid turns to face Dollar’s back then shove shim forward into the ropes. The second that Johnny bounces off the cables he lunges into the air for the cross body while TPKid does the same, the two shockingly having the same idea in spite of walking contrastingly different lifestyles. They connect with a double cross body, millionaire and trailer park denizen collapsing to the canvas side by side. They clutch at their ribs, which may have imploded against one another on impact.
Susie: Now their both down…TPKid and Johnny Dollar hitting cross bodies on each other. Neither man able to impress Porno Lad when they can’t even stand up.
Porno Lad claps his hands above his head, cheering for TPKid. That’s before he slips through the ropes, dashes across the ring and takes his place in the corner of Dollar, where he hops up and down, shouting for the crowd to get behind Johnny.
Porno Lad: Let’s go Johnny!
Back across the ring Porno Lad bolts before hoping to the corner of his other partner.
Porno Lad: Let’s go TPKid!
The fans are starting the dueling chant, playing right into Porno Lad’s hands, as do his potential partners for that Tag Title match. Both Dollar AND TPKid slowly work their way up to their feet, getting to their knees where they begin an exchange of forearm shots. This battle to be the first man to ascend to an upright base continues until everything goes completely off the rails…not that they were ever on the tracks to begin with…when Cassidy Haze comes sliding into the ring, followed by Brittany Lohan.
Susie: It’s the Hot Topic chicks!
Irate…that’s the only way to describe the fans when they witness Haze and Lohan pouncing on both TPKid and Dollar, putting the boots to both men simultaneously, leading to the official to call for the bell. It chimes…chimes…chimes….but there are still boots…boots…boots…put to the bodies of the potential challengers for the Tag Team Titles.
Susie: And the match being thrown out, Plushie, because of the interference of both these ladies.
Plushie: Ladies way less pretty than you.
Susie: You’re such a little charmer, Plushie. You should be Dollar’s permanent replacement.
Dollar may need a replacement given the repeated kicks and punches delivered to his face by Haze. TPKid isn’t getting off any easier, dragged to his feet by the hair and then charged face first into the turnbuckle by Lohan. All BMW can do is watch, wanting to interfere but the moment she tries to slide into the ring, Brittany stomps at her hands and forearms, keeping her at bay.
Porno Lad has at last seen enough, slipping in to lend assistance to his opponents/partners. He slides into the ring and grabs Cassidy by the shoulder, spinning her around. She instantly extends her arms out to her sides.
Haze: LOVE!?!
Her affirmation of love ends when Porno Lad points into her face.
Fans: YOOOU!
Cassidy goes for a right hand that Porno Lad blocks before delivering one shot, and then another, and then another, backing her up across the ring. He then delivers a right hand that finally puts her on the canvas. Lohan then rushes out of the corner and gets a big boot right between the eyes, taking her down to the canvas. Porno Lad turns around in circles, positively hulking up before he goes rushing into the ropes in order to hit the leg drop.
He ricochets from the cables when he finds them low bridged…low bridged by none other than Damion Sommers.
Susie: Send in the clowns….yes…send in the clowns.
Plushie: You have a wonderful singing voice.
Susie: Tell me something I didn’t already know.
With the grace of a cat, Porno Lad lands right on his feet, but receives a big knife edge chop across his chest the moment he makes contact. Damion then delivers another chop and then another, and then another, backing him around the ramp towards the backstage area.
Like garbage, though he’s wearing a thousand dollar suit, Dollar is plucked from the canvas and tossed to the outside by Lohan. Unfortunately this leaves TPKid to the wolves, and he’s treated like just that, a piece of meat. Brittany is still shaking off the effects of that big boot as she steps in, grabs TPKid by the hair and begins to drag him up to his feet. But TPKid reacts with a forearm to her ribs, followed by another. He then stands up and catches Lohan around the back of her head, connecting with a jaw breaker.
She bounces back, staggering around and swinging her arms to remain upright just as TPKid gets a running start, charging right at her. Somehow Lohan is able to catch him coming in and deliver an atomic drop planting his testicles directly onto her knee. At the same time, another knee comes into play, Cassidy’s, as she jumps right over the back of her own partner and connects with a knee strike to Kid’s face. The shot knocks TPKid to his back, where he lies motionless, only to be taken under the legs and dead lifted into the air in a power bomb position by the incredibly strong Lohan,
Cassidy then rushes in, leaps up high, catches the shoulders of TPKid, wedges her knees to his kidneys and then drops into the back cracker at the same time that Lohan nails the power bomb.
Susie: Ewwwwwy! That was bad!
The fans are stunned by this tag team onslaught from Dark Legacy…an onslaught that leaves TPKid motionless. BMW reaches under the ropes and grabs his wrist, sliding her man to the outside and actually supporting him as best she can. Though she turns herself into a human crutch, TPKid still falls to a knee, almost going down to the mats.
Susie: I think that mascara eyes, and man shoulders have just taken out both of Porno Lad’s possible tag team partners. He may have nobody left to team with him at Upping the Ante.
Plushie: Another brilliant observation.
Susie: You’re far too kind…..but these ladies are not.
Haze drops to her fists and knees in the center of the ring, licking her lips provocatively with her long tongue while Brittany steps over her back, straddling it. She puts her hands on Cassidy’s shoulders, rubbing them.
Susie: Message sent to anyone who even dares thinking of teaming with Porno Lad at Upping the Ante.
The camera shakes….we’d say vibrates but that conjures up too many dirty images…as it tries to keep up with one man…one person people are quite eager to hear from given the events of last week…and judging from the fact that Orlando Cruze is making his way towards the guerrilla position….it’s clear that the anticipation is over.
Voice: Orlando…Orlando…
The obnoxious shouts from behind the camera gets Orlando’s attention for all the wrong reasons. He turns, looks Mark Comeau up and down and frowns, before proceeding onward. A huffing and puffing Comeau steps out from behind the lens, trying his best to keep up with the Icon.
Comeau: Everyone wants to know what your going to do about being trolled these past few months…quite literally….and eventually losing control of your own company as a result.
Finally the Icon stops…FORCED to acknowledge the man who’s breath smells of whiskey and onions.
Orlando: Mr. Cruze…
Comeau: Pardon?
Orlando: It’s MISTER Cruze….why….cause I’m still your Boss…
Comeau: But didn’t Desmond Drak…..
Orlando whips completely around, eyes brazen with intensity.
Orlando: HE will be dealt with….Just like Frankie Paradise…just like Aaron Harrison…tonight Orlando Cruze takes back control.
Comeau: How?
Orlando: You’re about to find out.
Away from Comeau, away from the camera, Orlando storms….drawn towards the curtains…drawn towards to the stage…drawn to the crowd…who are all waiting…waiting to see how Orlando is going to deal with this latest calamity.
Comeau: Jesus…looks like I picked a bad time to stop taking my Zoloft.
A handful of pills are plopped into his palm and then tossed down his gullet.
Susie: Uh-oh, Plushie, looks like we’re going to see Orlando Cruze…and he’s got that look on his face like he just ate way too many Brand Flakes and has a turtle head popping out.
Plushie: We’re gonna hear from Cruze…NEXT!
The verdict is in…
A set of wind-up chattering teeth move in circles around a marble table.
No more appeals…
The roaring fire in the chimney place illuminates Ba’al, seated in his makeshift throne in the large living chamber.
No last second calls from the governor…
One palm lifts a gavel into the air, and the other opens to reveal a set of disembodied eyes, presumably plucked from the skulls of Christina Moore and Miss Jade.
I have seen you’re crimes…
The eyes turn to the chattering teeth dancing around on the small inn table beside him.
And now your sentence will be carried out….
The gavel is brought down upon the teeth, shattering the toy into dozens of pieces.
The execution begins tonight.
Mr. Gaunt: Is that infernal device working?
The camera nods to inform one Leeland Gaunt that his image is going live through the Cartel-tron, and that his voice can be heard through the loud speakers. His setting is inconsequential, it’s those very words being piped through the PA system that merits any attention..
Mr. Gaunt: Superb. Let’s get through with this so I can tackle more pressing matters.
Mr. Gaunt stops addressing the man bold enough to film him, and instead directs his statements to the thousands watching in the arena and the millions presumably viewing from around the world.
Mr. Gaunt: IWC, fans, followers and fiends, it has once again come to my attention that the assistance of my coterie of crusaders is required to help restore order and balance to this company you all adore. And how do I intend on accomplishing this no small feat? I’ve already assisted in the area of production…and I was going to be instrumental in the booking department if my plans were not impeded by certain masochistic hooligans. But now, I turn my attention, and my energies to a different realm…officiating.
Beneath the long coat of Mr. Gaunt, the panning camera reveals a striped referee shirt.
Mr. Gaunt: A number of ludicrous clauses were revealed during the sappy, melodrama between Orlando Cruze, Taylor Chase, and Aaron Harrison that played out like a horrid Dawson’s Creek inspired homage last week. One clause I found particularly attention grabbing though, eludes to the need for a special referee. Well, if Mr. Hush were about, I’d remove his bowler hat and toss it to the ground in a humorous attempt to be overly literal with that whole contrived statement regarding hats and rings and such.
Just so there is no confusion, because Mr. Gaunt knows he’s addressing people of an easily fickle nature, he spells things out rather blatantly.
Mr. Gaunt: I…Mr. Gaunt, am officially offering my services to be the referee for the World Title match between one Mr. Harrison and one Mrs. Chase at Upping the Ante.
There is quite the sizeable pop regarding this revelation .
Mr. Gaunt: I believe, given my ability to juggle many over the top personalities, that I can control the chaos and anarchy that no doubt will unfold throughout the course of that confrontation. And just to prove that the Black Crusade can be fair and balanced in terms of officiating, my gathering of eclectic friends shall dawn the striped t-shirts and referee the remainder of the matches this evening.
He takes a moment to allow that to register amongst all the gawking onlookers.
Mr. Gaunt: By doing such the Black Crusade will solve a number of problems. We‘ll show Mr. Harrison that in spite of our recent transgressions that I truly am the best man for the job when it comes to officiating his World Title bout….And as an added bonus, we‘ll be lending yet another helpful hand to the IWC, by replacing their current crop of referees this evening, considering that they seem to have fallen a bit ill..
The camera inches away from Mr. Gaunt’s side to the open door beside him, featuring the entire referee staff in their dressing room upchucking violently. Official Fitzpatrick is closest to the doorway, stooped over a bucket as maggots are purged from his intensities and dumped into the bucket beneath his face.
“In a House in a Heartbeat”….Yep….it’s that time…time for Orlando’s revolution to begin.
Instantly the curtains part, and through them emerges Orlando Cruze himself…the former…or still reigning….depending on whomever you ask…..President of the IWC. The suit is gone…no tie…no jacket…no expensive slacks, he’s in warm up gear…ready for battle, and that’s exactly what is on tap later tonight when he faces off in tag team action…
But now, the Icon is about to face a different type of challenge, convincing the crowd, and his compatriots, that he is still at the helm of a ship caught in stormy waters.
Susie: Looks like the Icon is in the hizzie!
Dollar: Yes…and I’m back where I’m needed for the time being. Can’t imagine how much this show suffered without my influence and beautiful baritone voice here at ringside…and why am I sitting on a plushie?
Susie: Nooo…I’m going to have to put him in a washing machine again.
Dollar: Though my ears are still ringing, and it feels like I just had my head in a vice, I’m going to stand…or sit…strong right here to watch Orlando power walk his way to the ring and retake ownership of this company.
And that’s EXACTLY the Icon’s intent. He’s already in the ring, microphone in one hand, and crowd eating out of his opposite palm.
Orlando: Wow….
Shoulders slouch to his hips, head lowers and his free hand rubs the back of his skull.
Orlando: Just…yeah…wow.
The crowd watches Orlando TRY to grapple with all that’s unfolded in such a short span of time.
Orlando: I really hate saying these four little words…this one innocuous phrase has never bared so much meaning…
”I NEVER SAW IT COMING.”
It actually pains Orlando to say it…looking physically ill.
Orlando: I hate to admit it…but I was played…hooked line and sinker…I walked…no…I was GUIDED right into the minefield and I tripped every explosive in my path. Every trap, every snare, I fell right into it. And all because I was too busy obsessing…obsessing over the World Heavyweight Championship…obsessing over this ideal that I was the only one….the only man capable of holding the title…and while I was busy feeding my own ego, the company was slowly being stolen right out from under me….Because while I was obsessed with titles….that little imp, Desmond Drake, was obsessed with stealing the federation I worked so hard…so hard to resurrect.
Orlando paces, getting angrier and angrier, but trying harder and harder to repress just that…his anger.
Orlando: I was blind….and really…the only man to blame for it, is myself. Yep…as was suggested to me last week, its time for the Icon to fall on his sword, to lay in the bed that I made…platitudes…clichés…yep-yep…but it’s true…I need to stop blaming others. That’s all I’ve been doing these past few weeks…looking at myself as a victim…as…how was it put…a martyr? I’m not….I finally…at long last realize that I’m the responsible party in all of this…I’m guilty…guilty of letting the World Title be a veil…a veil over my eyes…keeping me from seeing what was happening right under my nose.
A palm raises to his face, running slowly down over his features before falling off at the chin. This melancholic expression is replaced by one on the opposite end of the spectrum.. A grin actually begins to form on Orlando’s face as he slowly looks up from the canvas to the camera.
Orlando: But now the blinders are off…Desmond….the veils been striped from my eyes, and I see…I see the tree through the forest…I see the snake in the grass….I see who my true enemy is. You no longer have the element of surprise, Desmond. You can no longer fly under the radar…no son…you’ve flown too close to the sun, and now its time for you to come crashing back down to Earth. Because when you battle the Icon…you truly can expect a WAR.
His grin only widens, every tooth visible in large part due to the crowd’s overwhelmingly ‘positive’ reaction.’ Surprisingly…the Icon has support, and tons of it from all his ardent loyalists.
Orlando: You people…you know…oh yeah…you know all to well what I’m capable of when my back is against the wall. And although you haven’t seen much of the old Icon…tonight, I return to form.
More positive reactions from the crowd.
Orlando: I’ve taken a moment to reflect on the past couple of months since IWC’s rebirth. I’ve re-watched the tapes, learning how Desmond pulled all the right strings to set into motion his little coup d‘etat. But at the same time, as I watched Drake weave together his plot, I saw a man running this company who was NOT the Icon….not a man of principle or honor…I saw a man seduced by power….swayed by ego…dominated by his own selfish ambitions…who put himself before the IWC. And it almost…..ALMOST led to the ruination of the one thing I truly DO love…not the World Title…but this company…the company I worked so damned hard to resurrect. But that man….that ego maniacal prick is dead….he died the moment he was TRICKED into signing a certain World Title contract.
Orlando’s grin falters.
Orlando: The man who was so easily manipulated is gone….the suit…the tie…it’s been stripped away…the greed, the selfishness…it’s behind me….and what you see standing before you tonight…is a man dressed for war…a man ready for a battle….a man now obsessed not with taking back the World Heavyweight Title…but taking back THIS company.
An enthusiastic response…mixed with just a pinch of trepidation, the crowd still unclear as to rather or not the Icon can truly be trusted.
Orlando: I might not have my office…I might not have my desk….but don’t delude yourself, Desmond. I’m STILL in control. The power is in my hands, Desmond…the power to take your neck, and squeeze and squeeze…
Harrison: Is this going to go on much longer?
There is no hint of trepidation in the reaction Aaron Harrison receives…getting a full on verbal raping from the fans. But his reaction…is NOT to react at all. Instead he remains absolutely stoic on his way to the ring.
Harrison: How much longer do you plan…plan on standing out here and force feeding these fans everything they want to hear, with no actual intent to back up any of your bullshit?
Harrison stands on the opposite side of the ropes, glaring over them at the pacing animal just waiting for anyone to enter his cage.
Harrison: You want to talk about manipulation…that’s precisely what your doing to these fans…lying to them to get that cheap prop…to get them to support you in your quest for power. But why…why should any of these brainwashed masses endorse you, Icon? Why should anyone want to see you return to the Presidency, huh? What have you done to endear yourself to anyone that isn’t Taylor Chase? NOTHING!
Orlando continues to pace, not even listening, just imagining the sick and twisted things he’d like to do to Harrison at the moment.
Harrison: These people shouldn’t want you to return to your throne. Because you’d just end up doing the same thing you’ve been doing since the IWC re-opened its doors. Feeding your own ego. Bending the rules to suit the needs of Taylor Chase….and keeping your strangle hold on the World Champion vicariously through your puppet, Tay-Tay. And the company would continue to suffer…and suffer…and suffer.
The pacing just proceeds, Orlando intermittently glancing up into the hostile face of the man disparaging his reputation.
Harrison: But the Blacklist….Desmond Drake….we’re this company’s TRUE saviors…we’re not the monsters…we’re the heroes…protecting this federation from wolves in sheeps clothing like yourself. We’re out to rectify all the swindles…all the crimes…all the crap you’ve pulled since day one. Which is why these fans…they should be right on board with what we do to you tonight…and the roster…guys like Silencer….and ESPECIALLY the Saviors….should be very appreciative of what we do to Taylor Chase at the pay-per-view, when she pays penance for all the things you’ve put your roster through thanks to your ego maniacal tyranny….Hands shackled behind back…special referees….no disqualifications….and who knows…maybe I’ll even break out a few Singapore Canes at the pay-per-view just to truly come full circle. And then you truly will have the opportunity to hold Tay-Tay’s bloodied, disfigured body in your arms…and that will be your fault TOO.
Enough words have been spoken, Orlando is tired of listening…or at least pretending to. Before Harrison is ready, he’s grabbed by the back of the head and nailed to the face with forearm after forearm to a raucous reaction from the crowd.
Dollar: And Orlando has had enough…he’s on Harrison! He’s shutting his mouth with those forearms.
Susie: Get him Cruzey…get him.
Dollar: But Harrison was right on the money…why SHOULD anyone trust this man? We should actually support what he does to Taylor at the pay-per-view, she and Orlando BOTH have it coming.
Susie: Because Orlando is bald…and Taylor is beautiful….that’s more than enough reason to support them.
Harrison is brought fully into the ring via a big hip toss over the top rope, sending him crashing to the canvas and then rolling across it. The Monster is then nailed with a big running kick to the side of his skull, putting him on his back. Orlando then crawls on top of Aaron’s chest, pulling up on his hair and driving fist after fist after fist directly to Harrison’s forehead.
Orlando: You’re not going to make it to Upping the Ante…you’re not going to put the cuffs on Taylor…you’re not going to put a finger on her.
Dollar: Orlando is not waiting until later tonight to get his hands on Harrison in that tag team match. He’s crushing Aaron and doing it now, making sure he doesn’t get to Upping the Ante to punish Tay-Tay.
Punches continue to rain down on Aaron’s face to a quite a bit of fanfare…but the Icon doesn’t notice that in the midst of his fisticuffs, that Aaron is sliding his hand down into the pocket of his pants and removing a taser.
Dollar: Might want to watch out…ORLANDO!
Sparks shoot from the taser, and wails shoot from the crowd, but it doesn’t clue Cruze into the pending plight that awaits him. Within moments Orlando transforms from predator to prey, the taser sending his body into convulsions.. He drops to the canvas and writhes around like a water deprived fish on sun scorched pavement.
Dollar: Harrison tazed him…he just tazed him! And oh lord…that means he’s totally at the mercy of the number one contender.
It doesn’t take long for roles to reverse, Harrison now seated across Orlando’s chest, raining down fist after fist after fist into the face of the Icon.
Harrison: Does it hurt, Orlando…does it hurt? This is what you put everyone else through, Cruze….and it’s exactly what I’m going to put Tay-Tay through.
His knuckles drawl back one more time before that same eerie eye with a clock taking place of the pupil overtakes the Cartel-tron. Before the clock can even cycle down to midnight, Hurse comes tearing through the curtains amidst lyrics of “Good Man” by Devour the Day.
Dollar: Hurse…Hurse on his way to the ring….he returned last week but didn’t get nearly enough of Harrison apparently.
Susie: Yay! It’s the pirate.
The eye patch wearing Hurse barrels down the ramp, slides into the ring and rushes straight at the rising Harrison. Wisely Aaron decides to make his exit…sliding like a serpent backwards under the ropes just as Hurse slides forward into the ring. He leaps to his feet and charges at the ropes only to have Harrison back out of his reach. A blood red Hurse almost has steam shooting from his nostrils and ears as he watches the man who took his right eye, walk with a methodic pace towards the ramp.
Dollar: If Hurse wants his hands on Harrison he’s going to have to wait till later tonight. Aaron not giving him the chance to inflict injuries before that big tag team match this evening, where Harrison will finally have the opportunity to face Orlando in the center of the ring.
With one eye locked on Harrison, who backs up the ramp without a sliver of emotion, Hurse stoops down lending aid to his partner for the evening, Orlando. The Icon is still ailing as a result of the electrocution but has regained some semblance of brain function, allowing him to get back to his feet, albeit leaning heavily upon Hurse.
Dollar: These two lock up with Aaron Harrison and Franke….HEEEY!
Before Orlando even knows what hit him, he’s dragged by the wrist into Hurse’s shoulders, heaved into the air and then dumped down eye first onto Hurse’s knee with a version of the Go to Sleep.
Dollar: OHHH!
Susie: When did you turn into Sam Kinison?
Dollar: WHY? Why?
To the canvas Cruze collapses, sprawled across the ring, rendered incapable of so much as twitching an eyebrow at this point. He barely drawls breathe as an uncharacteristically stoic Hurse stands over him, slowly running a hand through his greasy hair. Slowly…ever so slowly…as if truly savoring every moment of this…Hurse lowers to a crouch beside the unconscious Cruze. He reaches down to the eye that is beginning to swell shut and pries it open so that his pupil can fix on the face ominously staring down at him.
Hurse: You left me high and dry at Awakening, Orlando….I volunteered for that tag match against the Blacklist cause you swore you’d have my back…you’d be my tag team partner…then you abandoned me…you fed me to the wolves…
Orlando’s eye remains pried open as Hurse inches closer to it.
Hurse:: Well…Lando….turn around is fair play. Good luck…going out there on your OWN tonight.
The eyelids close as Hurse closes his argument, vacating the ring and leaving the Icon lying unconscious within it.
Dollar: Not only has Hurse just laid out Orlando….but did I…did I hear him correctly? Did he just say that he’s NOT teaming with Orlando tonight? He’s going to do to Cruze exactly what Orlando did to him several months ago?
Susie: Are you asking me? Is this one of those times I was SUPPOSED to be paying attention?
Dollar: Hurse has just tricked the Icon…he’s leaving him without a partner against Harrison and Paradise tonight. And I really wish I could have remorse for Cruze…but…it’s like Harrison said….Orlando brought his all on himself.
Cruze’s eyes finally begin to flutter, at least one of them, as the other is starting to swell shut after taking the knee. He gets it open just enough to see through the slit that Hurse is marching straight up the ramp, back turned on the Icon, both literally and figuratively.
To a truly explosive reaction Yvonne Knight and Kathryn Pearson come into view…joined by both a microphone toting Mark Comeau…and the IWC World Tag Team Title belts…which adorn their shoulders.
Comeau: I’m standing by here with the NEW IWC World Tag Team Champions, Unity…I guess some form of congrats is in order here.
Ivy and Kathryn stop celebrating long enough to indulge Mark’s insatiable need to get the scoop.
Kathryn: Yeah…I’d say so.
Knight: I think we deserve some props…we did just kind of end the tyranny of the TCWC…AND do it by winning these babies.
The Tag Title belt is raised slightly from her shoulder, almost blocking from view the wall mounted monitor behind her.
Comeau: Well, you kinda just hit the nail right on the head. How does it feel knowing that you accomplished something that no team has been capable of thus far here in the IWC by defeating the Chase Wrestling Collective?
Kathryn: How do you think it feels, Mark?
Mark shrugs before popping another Zoloft like it was Reces Pieces.
Kathryn: It feels F’N AWESOME!
The crowd pops as Ivy and Kathryn lift their belts and use them to toast.
Kathryn: Here I am, after only my THIRD match in this company, one half of the IWC Tag Team Champions. And to make it even more awesome…look who I’m standing next to…look who’s holding the gold alongside the little girl that no one thought had it in her to be a champion…My trainer…my friend….Yvonne Knight.
The microphone transitions from Kathryn’s to Yvonne’s lips.
Knight: Honestly…I knew we would be successful when we decided to combine forces here in the IWC…but I had no idea…no idea that we would take this company by storm like we have. Not only have we already main evented Riot!, but tonight, we just went out there and the girl no one thought could be a champion, just defeated the ‘unbeatable’ champions.
Kathryn: Thanks to you, Ivy…
Knight: No…no Kathryn…don’t take anything away from what you did out there….
Comeau: Sorry to interrupt ladies, but everyone wants to know…nay HAS to know how you think your victory tonight is going to effect the Upping the Ante pay-per-view.
Pearson and Knight not only share Tag Team Titles, but a grin.
Knight: We don’t think that far ahead, Comeau.
Kathryn: Yeah, because right now, we’re just going to enjoy this…mo…ment.
Her sentence trails off when clapping is overheard in the background and Pearson’s eyes lock on the source of the applause. Insincerely the claps continue upon Brittany Lohan and Cassidy Haze stepping into the camera’s view.
Lohan: Congratulations, Dear…
Instinctively Pearson and Knight raise their fists, ready for a fight, even though Dark Legacy only seems to be intent on celebrating, rather than brawling.
Lohan: No, really, I want to wish you all the congrats in the world. You earned this…
Lohan reaches out to grab the Tag strap only to have Pearson pull away. This leaves a smile forming across Brittany’s face, as she tilts her head and bats eyes in the direction of the rookie.
Lohan: You’ve come so far…in such a short period of time….going from bright eyed newbie to co-holder of the Tag Team Titles. But ummmm….I’d be remiss if I didn’t say that you holding these pretty little trinkets…
Again she moves to touch the belt, but Pearosn rears back with the gold, keeping it away from her.
Lohan:…doesn’t have me a little worried. I think living this little dream of yours, is more like living a delusion….because your deluding yourself if you don’t think that holding the Tag Team Titles isn’t going to impede your fledgling singles career. A singles career that could really be given that big shot in the arm at Upping the Ante…You do remember Upping the Ante right…?
Kathryn rolls her eyes.
Lohan: Where you’re supposed to team with me in that High Stakes match? Where if we win I get my No Holds Barred Title shot, and YOU get your opportunity at the X-Class Championship….the title opportunities that were STOLEN from us by the Blacklist. But…but now, I’m afraid your Tag Team Title win…well…it just might keep you too distracted from competing at your best level at the pay-per-view…and I can’t allow that.
Haze: Plus, I put a lot of time and effort into securing my Tag Team Title opportunity at Upping the Ante? And you wouldn’t dream of denying a girl her opportunity would you? I mean, if you went and screwed me out of a title shot, then you’d be no different than the Blacklist.
Lohan: Yeah, it make you a bit of a hypocrite.
Knight: Why don’t you two just get to your point already? What do you want?
A smile etches across Cassidy’s purple lips but Brittany remains as stone faced as an Easter Island statue, staring out not into the sea, but into the waves she’s crated into the emotions of the new Tag Team Champions.
Lohan: It’s like you said last week, Kathryn, we’re girlfriends…and girlfriends should have each other’s backs. Soooo, to help you out, and ensure that you can concentrate on your singles career, how about you let Cassidy and I take those Tag Team Titles off your mind.
That ‘are you serious’ type stare is beamed towards the emotionless eyes of Lohan.
Haze: We’re just asking for an opportunity, Girls…like the one Chasey-Pooh gave to the two of you earlier tonight.
Lohan: Put your Tag Team Titles on the line tonight…NEXT… against Dark Legacy, and if you do…maybe…just maybe I’ll be a team player at Upping the Ante.
Simultaneously Kathryn and Knight look down at their belts then up into one another’s faces. Without saying so much as a word to each other, no discussion necessary, the two turn to answer the challenge.
Knight: We’ll see the two of you in the ring…
Lohan: Splendid. We’ll be waiting.
A giddy clap comes from Cassidy before she interlocks hands behind her back and sways from side to side like a precocious child. Dark Legacy then backs away slowly from the Tag Team Champions, stepping towards the ring and leaving Kathryn and Yvonne to discuss strategy.
Knight: You ready for this?
Kathryn: BEYOND ready.
The camera zooms in on the intense expressions now embedded in the face of the Tag Team Champions.
Dollar: Mind blowing stuff here. Apparently Unity will be defending the Tag Team Titles that they JUST won against Dark Legacy….and it’s…it’s comning up next?
Susie: So wish I could call that match with my plushie.
Dollar: And I wish you would never mention the plushie again. Apparently we’re going to see the Tag Team Titles defended, and that will happen right after our commercial break.
Simon: Ahhhh fuck…
A back…an arched back…leans propped against the wall…a back connected to the mangled torso of Simon Cagero.
Simon: Ohhh just wait bitch…just wait…
Cagero almost loses his footing multiple times…if it weren’t for the wall that his back is wedged against…the very wall he leaves a long trail of blood upon, excreted from the gashes in his spine….he’d surely go plummeting to the earth. Or would he? It’s not just the wall that keeps him on his feet….it’s that unwavering, uncanny stubbornness that compels him onward…in pursuit of vengeance.
Simon: You won’t take this away from me…I will…I WILL take back that Championship…and I WILL use it to become the special referee you heinous bitch!
The pain becomes too much for him, causing his knees to buckle and for him to double over, wrapping arms around his ribs and his chest, unable to get to the bloody tears in his back.
Simon: Fucking bitch.
He spits with venom, saliva flying across the corridor.
P. Clarence Whitman III: I’m still tad confounded, my Dear….
Both Whitman and Lois Prince walk hand-in-hand down the corridor, the X-Class Title draped over the shoulder furthest from the Christian beauty…so she can rest her cheek against his nearest arm.
Whitman: So this Tyler gentleman, he never existed?…He was just a manifestation of Edward Norton’s hedonistic desires?
Lois: See…you’re starting to get it.
Whitman: Still quite confusing…but mind blowing stuff nevertheless. We need to arrange more of these…movie nights….yes…with the buttery popcorn and the fizzy sodas…It was quite the splendid good time.
Lois: Absolutely…I had a blast….
Whitman: Oh yes…yes…but of course…it was really quite riveting.
Lois: I just love the way you talk….it‘s so cute that you don’t try to hide your accent or anything….And I loved joining you in Maypole dancing….Your traditions are so…so…
Whitman: Unique, yes, I know.
Lois: Yeah…it’s that uniqueness I find so…
Whitman: Charming…yes….that was brought to my attention…
Lois: I’m sorry?
Whitman: Dear, would you give me a moment to hop into my wrestling attire to positively reek havoc upon that horrid specimen, Lukas Montgomery?
Lois: Good to see you overcome that fear of being burned alive by the Blacklist.
A huge toad has formed in the throat of Whitman…who chokes it down into the pit of his stomach.
Whitman: Well…you should know by now…I’m really quite a man of bravado and masculinity. Now if I can kindly take my leave..
They stop beside the door leading the lockeroom, which seems to have some type of strange light flickering through the cracks.
Lois: Sure…I’ll just wait out here.
Whitman: Fabulous…should be just a tick.
The doorknob is grabbed and Whitman grimaces form the warmth. He then turns the knob and pushes the door open to peek inside, seeing his locker in the corner of the room engulfed in both flames and smoke. The door is quickly slammed shut with Whitman turning his back to it and forming the most insincere of smiles imaginable.
Lois: What?
For once she finds his grin alarming rather than charming.
Whitman: Ohhh nothing…I’ve just decided it be better to wrestle in what I’m wearing.
She looks him up and down, examining the three piece suit adhering to his diminutive body.
Lois: That can’t be very comfortable to wrestle in.
Whitman: It’ll allow me to sweat off some of the calories from that fizzy soda, Dear. So don’t fret.
He takes her hand and guides it to his forearm, before patting her on the knuckles.
Whitman: Now if we can kindly move along…
Lois: Okay….
Whitman: A little faster please.
Smoke begins to poor out from under the door.
Lois: Why do I smell burning spandex?
The cellular phone again provides the feed for the Blacklist to conduct yet another shoot…and to make a few shocking statements that will have heads not just turning…but doing a complete 360. Mika smiles as she stares down into the phone in one grip, while the other palm is consumed by the back of Lukas Montgomery’s head.
Mika: Soooo…let’s get this straight…apparently the officiating staff came down with a case of maggot gut? Doubt you’ll find that one on Web MD.
Montgomery: Not until tonight you wouldn’t. And if we’re following along correctly here…apparently the Black Crusade is going to ‘officiate’ the rest of the bouts on tonight’s telecast?
Lukas and Mika turn to one another and form HUGE smiles.
Mika: Only in the IWC…
Montgomery: This place is like Hannibal Lecter’s wet dream.
Mika: Well you know what, Lukas….I say…if the Black Crusade wants to officiate…who are we stop them?
Lukas doesn’t feign surprise…instead he completely overacts it.
Montgomery: Golly gee, Mika…but doesn’t that threaten our potential victories here tonight…considering that the Blacklist and the Black Crusade aren’t exactly bosom buddies.
Mika takes Lukas’ cue, totally overacting to the point where it’s beyond transparent.
Mika: Gee whiz…you’re right, Lukas…they might just go out of there way to make our lives miserable tonight…but…you want to know something the Black Crusade failed to realize?
Montgomery: That bowler hats are so 1955?
Mika: Well..there’s that…PLUS…they fail to grasp that their whereabouts will be known to absolutely everyone tonight. They won’t have that element of surprise they take full advantage of..
Montgomery: You may have just stumbled across something here, Mika. If the Black Crusade are going to be in the ring at the start of every match, then the Blacklist will have no trouble tracking them down…will we?
Mika: Indeedy do, Lukas…indeedy do. And the Blacklist will no doubt take full advantage of this golden opportunity, taking out every member of the Black Crusade until…until the only man left standing is…LEGION. Our big bad opponent at Upping the Ante….
Montgomery: Left standing? No…no…no, my gal-pal….Legion is NOT gonna be standing by the end of the night….Cause he…just like the rest of the Black Crusade is going to be lying FLAT…and taking a ride in this…
Mika turns her recording phone and aims it right at the ambulance parked behind them. She keeps on filming as Lukas blows on the back of his knuckles and rubs them against his chest, propping his shoulder against the grill of the ambulance.
MOMENTS AGO
A still frame image of Orlando Cruze standing mono a mono with Aaron Harrison, separated only by the ropes is featured….as the Blacklist member tears into the Icon in a verbal rather than physical manner.
Dollar: Just before the commercials aired….
Susie: Would it kill them to play a single one with that obnoxious lizard…You know the one I’m talking about…the one who keeps pitching Princeline.com.
Dollar:…Notice that I’ll completely ignore that comment…
Susie: Noticed.
Dollar: Because moments before we went to break…Orlando Cruze and Aaron Harrison were in quite the bitch-off fest against one another, that ended predictably in a physical fashion after Aaron made some less than subtle threats directed at the Icon’s love…World Champion Taylor Chase.
Over the top rope Aaron is dragged by a furious Orlando, who pummels away at Harrison’s face, unaware that the taser is being extracted and employed to electrify him. He lies twitching on the canvas, subjected to Aaron’s many right hands until aid comes in the form of Hurse, who bolts to the ring just as Harrison makes his exit.
Dollar: And we thought Hurse was out here to help Orlando Cruze….
Susie: Actually, I thought we was just trying out his new Snake Pliskin gimmick.
Dollar: But in a shocking turn of events, he ended up turning on Orlando…
Cruze is not only hoisted to his feet by Hurse, but then hoisted to his shoulders and nailed with the Go to Sleep where the knee connects directly against Orlando’s eye, leaving him lying.
Dollar: And now…who knows what our main event is going to be. Hurse has apparently left Orlando to his own devices. Meaning he will NOT have a tag team partner this evening. Is Cruze gonna go it alone?
In spite of the fact that he’s not competing tonight, Hurse is still wrapping his wrists in tape and gnawing off the end. He sits on a steel chair in a dimly lit corridor, with Robin Brooks leaning with hands on his shoulder and chin resting on the back of her knuckles. She bats her eyes rather playfully towards the camera, but Hurse doesn’t even raise his eye to acknowledge its presence. Proving he’s capable of multitasking, Hurse talks while applying his tape.
Hurse: Limited peripheral field of vision….
He bites the tape, severing it from the roll.
Hurse: No depth perception.
He reaches back and grabs the fingers of Brooks resting on his shoulders, stroking them gently.
Hurse: The inability to see fine details.
Robin feels the need to lean down and hug him, wrapping an arm around his neck and now putting her chin completely on his shoulder.
Hurse: Splitting…debilitating migraines….These…these are just a few of the things I’ve dealt with since Awakening…since a taser was taken and pressed to my eye.
He reaches up and pulls back the patch to reveal the mutilated flesh warped around the space where his right eye USED to be.
Hurse: Aaron Harrison, he’s easy to blame. Yes…he was the assailant. It was his hand at the end of the taser…and he’ll pay…oh God yes, he’ll suffer. But Aaron never would have had the opportunity to take my right eye if Orlando hadn’t tricked me into accepting the Blacklist’s challenge for the six man tag…tricked me into believing that he would have my back….
His voice is noticeably absent of its normal happy-go-lucky nature….quite a bit more dramatic when forced to relive history.
Hurse: So it’s just like I told you a few moments ago, Cruze, turn around is fair play…..actually….now that I think about it…you’re getting off a little bit light, aren’t you?
Eye is directed to Robin, who confirms his suspicions through a nod.
Hurse: Tonight you’ll hold a piece of meat to your eye, the swelling will go down and by tomorrow morning you’ll be back to 20/20 vision. But me….I’ll never be able to look at the world the same way again…and it’s all thanks to you….Icon….so for us to truly be even…I need to permanently skewer your perception of reality…and the best way to accomplish that, is to take away from you something…or someone…you truly cherish.. That’s why I’m offering my services as the special referee at Upping the Ante….And when Aaron is left with no other alternative but to select me for that coveted role, I’ll make sure he AND Tay-Tay…
He says the last name in sassy fashion and even throws in a few finger snaps above his head.
Hurse:….are left seeing YOU, Orlando, from a brand new perspective….
A taser is lowered to Hurse, who takes it from Brook’s grips, begins to send the current through the prongs and stops just long enough to disgustingly flick his tongue out. He sticks it through the prongs several times before forming an absolutely repulsive grin.
Hurse: Eye for an eye Cruze…eye for an eye.
The patch is placed back over his missing retina while Hurse uses his fingers to give a thumbs up as opposed to a few over the top snaps.
The lyrics provided by Stone Sour builds anticipation for the arrival of Cassidy Haze. She steps through the fog..and through the hailstorm of hatred as she descends upon the ring…receiving little to no fan fare from the fans as she kips up the ramp and slips through the ropes ready to compete in this impromptu match for the Tag Team Titles.
Dollar: There’s our explanation…Hurse attacking Orlando Cruze…and it wasn’t as unprovoked as it earlier seemed. He assaulted him because Orlando left him on his own at Awakening….and now, Hurse has left Orlando on his own later tonight against Paradise and Harrison….AND now HURSE is even demanding to be the official for the World Title match at Upping the Ante. Christian….Mr. Gaunt….Hurse….what makes any of them think that Harrison would pick them?
Susie: They could always try to win him over with plushies. They make a GREAT bargaining chip.
Dollar: Let’s move away from one dysfunctional team, to another that’s MENTALLY dysfunctional. Dark Legacy, consisting of Cassidy Haze and Brittany Lohan, about to challenge for the IWC Tag Team Titles. Earlier tonight, Unity won the belts off the TCWC under absolutely SHOCKING circumstances…But now the hotties turn around and defend their belts IMMEDIATELY! They accepted the challenge of Lohan and Haze…which makes no sense to me….but hey…what women has ever shown ANY logic?
Cassidy slides into the ring and at last notices the figures lurking outside…wearing a striped shirt…mask…and bowler hat…is Mr. Hush….with Al Todd-Meriwether standing beside him..
Dollar: And oh lord help us all right now. The Black Crusade following through with their promise to officiate several of the matches tonight to help sway Aaron Harrison…Mr. Hush is about to serve as special guest referee for this impromptu tag team title match.
Susie: If he plays more Tommy Wiseau, I’ll propose to him on the spot.
An affectionate wink is shot from Cassidy to Mr. Hush, before she goes skipping around the ring to limber up. Mr. Hush does his own limbering up, performing a number of squats, jumping jacks and cartwheels in order to get his body ready for the grueling task of officiating this match.
The introduction of Brittany Lohan elicits so many varying reactions from the crowd. Some cheer for the mistress of brutality, the final solution of professional wrestling, and perhaps the future co-holder of the Tag Team Titles…others boo the bodyguard of Taylor Chase, the woman who took out Sebastian Knight, and brutalized P Clarence Whitman III with her crowbar. But all of those reactions, become moot, replaced with an overwhelming wave of mass confusion….why…because though the music is playing, the video on the screen is showcasing all of Brittany’s more destructive acts…there is no Lohan…there is no Final Solution…there is no bodyguard…there’s nothing but an empty stage.
Dollar: Ummmm…yeah….gonna walk right into this one…but where’s Brittany Lohan?
Susie: I swear to God, if she’s playing with my plushie backstage I’m gonna flip out.
Dollar: She’s scheduled to team with Haze here, so I would suggest she wrap up whatever’s keeping her from getting to this ring.
Susie: Maybe she ate a tainted burrito or something and has the super poops at the moment.
Dollar: The last thing we need around here is ANOTHER incident involving tainted food.
The music replays, and so does the video, looping through various clips of Lohan brutalizing so many with the crowbar. Haze doesn’t watch the clips, instead her eyes are fixated on the stage, watching with genuine concern as Lohan fails to emerge.
Dollar: Uh-oh…not good…Brittany no showing. Where is she?
Susie: Isn’t this a pretty bad time for Hide and Seek?
Cassidy has her arms stretched to her sides and is looking around with a very puzzled expression as there is still no sight of her tag team partner. FINALLY…just before Haze could really get panicked, the curtains part, and through them steps…not Brittany Lohan…unless she now wears sloppy clown paint, has green greasy hair, and has sprouted a penis.
Dollar: Wait…that’s so not Brittany Lohan…
Susie: Is it Pennywise?
Dollar: No. but thanks for reminding me of so much childhood trauma. That’s Damion Sommers…but what in the hill of beans is he doing here?
Susie: Giving me nightmares?
Damion rolls under the ropes and pops to his feet, stepping across the ring and insisting on the use of a microphone. One is provided by Wilde and Damion instantly puts it to use, at last turning to acknowledge Cassidy, who is pouting at this point.
Damion: What’s wrong, Boo? Were you expecting someone else? Someone a bit less hairy, and a bit more busty?
His chest is flexed to give the appearance of boobs.
Damion: Sorry to disappoint, Pumpkin-Pie, but it looks like Brittany has just pulled a Hurse on you, and has totally left you twisting in the wind. But me…I would never Hurse you….I’d never abandon you…In fact…just look at me…I’m ready to go…I’m ready to step up…I’m ready to be your huckleberry tonight.
Cassidy scratches her head, wondering if any of this is supposed to be making sense…requiring a translator at this point.
Damion: You want me to prove myself…I’ll prove it by stepping up, being your partner…and helping you win those Tag Team Titles…waddaya say, Boo? Waddaya say?
There is no instant reply, Haze raising a finger to her jaw. Just then the intro theme to Unity begins to play.
Damion: Afraid you don’t have very much time to think this one over…
As it becomes apparent that the new Tag Team Champions are on their way and that Brittany is NOT showing up….Haze resolves herself to accept the help of Sommers…Damion being her only viable option at this point. Damion smirks and slips through the ropes to the apron…..
For the second time tonight Unity makes their way through the curtains in conjunction with the blaring of their intro tunes. But this time they’re accompanied by the IWC Tag Team Titles…they stop in order to toast with the belts, tapping the gold above their heads then rushing down the ramp to defend their gold.
Dollar: And we’re now set…the Tag Team Titles to be defended, Unity putting the gold on the line again tonight but not in the match they were originally slated to compete in…instead they’re about to defend the belts against Cassidy Haze and…AND…Damion Sommers.
Susie: Didn’t see this coming.
Dollar: Yeah, we’ve heard that phrase a lot already…and something tells me we’re going to be hearing it a lot more tonight.
Mr. Hush is now in the ring and looking to keep both these teams under control. To ensure that there is no influence in the forms of foreign weapons, the bowler hat wearing referee insists on the pre-match pat down. However, neither Pearson or Knight agree to to be felt up by Hush. In fact, the only person who does allow themselves to be frisked is Sommers.
Damion steps forward, extends his arms out to his sides and puts forth his pelvis.
Damion: Do you want me to turn my head and cough?
Mr. Hush shakes his head no, but raises a finger to call for a slight time-out. Into his chest pocket he delvers, removing a balloon in which is extended towards Damion, who he now insists be twisted into some form of animal.
Dollar: I think Mr. Hush is under the false impression that Sommers actually is a clown.
Susie: Is it too much to ask him to make one damned balloon animal?
Dollar: Is it too much to ask for a match to make sense here in the IWC.
Susie: I think we know the answers to BOTH those questions.
Sommers grins as he takes the balloon, twists it all around and forms it into a giraffe for Mr. Hush, who examines the creation without the slightest bit of appreciation. He shakes his head disapprovingly.
Sommers: Did you want something else?
Al leaps up onto the apron and shouts into the ring.
Al: MR. HUSH DESIRED A PUPPY YOU BAWDY BEETLE-HEADED CANKER-BLOSSOM!
Before Damion can go back to work, Knight comes rushing across the ring and forces him to concentrate on his primary form of employment, wrestling. She dives with both boots into his shin, taking his legs out from under him. Sommers collapses to his elbows and knees, but has no time for recovery purposes, because now Pearson is charging in too, catching him around the chin and flipping over into a bridging chin lock. That’s when Knight ricochets off the ropes, charges across the ring, leaps into the air and nails a dropkick on the exposed face of the paint wearing psychopath.
Dollar: Knight and Pearson not waiting any longer for these pre-match hijinks to end…
Susie: How come you always get to say the fun words? I want to say hijinks too!
Dollar: First it was shenanigans, now it’s hijinks? Two more words to add to the banned list.
After the dropkick has been delivered, Pearson flips back, lands on her elbows and knees, transitioning from bridging chin-lock to front chancery, then rises to her feet, pulling opponent along with her. She then delivers a flip over swinging neck breaker, planting the back of Sommers’ head against the canvas.
The moment he pops up to his seat and clutches at the back of his neck, Ivy ricochets off the cables in front of him, charges in and bashes his face with a running knee strike, putting him down on the canvas.
Dollar: And the Champions fluidly stringing together a brilliant series of moves…that I no doubt would be able to counter if I were selected as Porno Lad’s partner to face them tonight. Still waiting on that decision Porno Lad…not wise to leave me in such suspense for so long.
Susie: Yeah, come on Porno Lad….pick Dollar so that I can do commentary with your Plushie again.
Instead of forcing one member of Unity out of the ring, Mr. Hush is busy blowing up another balloon and tying off the end. He then steps in and pries Pearson away from Damion, insisting she vacate the ring. With an annoyed roll of the eyes Kathryn leaves and Knight picks up right where she left off, charging into the ropes to build momentum behind another running strike. But before she can get her hands on Sommers, Mr. Hush forms a human barrier between the laid out clown and her victimizer. He insists that Yvonne give Sommers just a moment…a moment to give him a properly shaped balloon animal.
He drags Sommers up to his seat by the bangs of his hair, and then dangles the balloon in front of his make-up smeared face. All the while Al is shouting instructions from ringside..
Al: PLEASE GET IT CORRECT THIS TIME YOU FAT-KIDNEYED DEWBERRY!
A shaken up Sommers takes the balloon and begins to contort it under the watchful gaze of Mr. Hush…The distraction proves costly for the Tag Team Champions, because behind Hush’s back, Haze has slipped into the ring with a steel chair and swings it right between the shoulder blades of Knight, knocking her to the canvas.
Cassidy quickly abandons the ring with chair in hand, tossing it aside where it will no doubt go unnoticed by the easily distracted Mr. Hush.
Dollar: Chair to the back…Cassidy played this perfectly…catching Knight with that shot while Mr. Hush was busy playing balloon animals with Sommers.,
The most recent creation by Sommers is thrown to the referee, and then he puts his hands to better use, crawling towards the laid out Knight and instinctively utilizing them to hook the creases of her knees.
Dollar: We’re about to have NEW Tag Team Champions…and it’s all on account of a damned balloon animal.
The crowd squeals, realizing that the championships might be seconds away from changing hands…but one hand in particular takes precedence over all others…why…because instead of Mr. Hush putting his palm to canvas, his finger extends, tapping Sommers’ shoulders. A still rattled Damion looks up at the balloon animal being held in front of his face by an aggravated Mr. Hush.
Al: THAT’S A PONY…NOT A PUPPY YOU FAWNING FOOT-LICKER!
Damion: Are you fucking serious?
Just to show how serious he is, Mr. Hush removes ANOTHER balloon, blows it up and gives it to Damion. With a sigh Sommers takes the balloon and begins to fold it up but exposes his back to Knight, who catches him around both arms, and then drags him over into the crucifix pin.
Mr. Hush drops to the canvas and is about to makes the count.
1
2
The kick out occurs mere seconds before the three could be made.
Both Sommers and Knight race to their feet, but Yvonne is impeded after already competing in one match coupled with a chair shot to the spine, causing her to receive a big lariat to the throat. Damion falls to his knees after connecting with the clothesline, and then crawls across the ring and tags in Haze.
Cassidy slips through the ropes, rushes up beside the laid out Yvonne and leaps high into the air. Ultimately she crashes down knee first against the co-holder of the Tag Team Titles’ face, then rolls forward onto her back, kips up to her feet, turns around and leaps high into the air again…coming down with an elbow straight to Knight’s chest.
She then extends her arm across the sternum of Ivy, hoping enough damage was done by the TCWC earlier in the night to make easy prey of Knight. And a victory may just be within Yvonne’s grasp if Mr. Hush wasn’t busy grabbing a kneeling Sommers by the shirt and pulling him up to his feet. He then gets into Damion’s face and begins to employ side language.
This only further compounds Sommers’ confusion…thank goodness that Al is present to make sense of it all.
Al: MR. HUSH WISHES TO KNOW HOW MUCH IT WILL COST TO SUPERSIZE HIS FIZZY DRINK AND FRIES.
Damion rears back and chuckles with delight, before snapping his fingers towards the referee and extending his palms.
Sommers; That’ll be a $1.95 buddy-boy…and you still owe me for the balloon animals as well.
Into his pocket Mr. Hush delves…but instead of taking out a wallet, the contents are emptied to reveal nothing more than a few buttons…a set of keys to a 1957 King Midget Model II….and a ticket stub to the movie The Adventures of Buckaroo Banzai Across the 8th Dimension. There is no currency in which to speak of.
Haze makes lemonade out of lemons, though Mr. Hush is too distracted to make the count, this opens the door to her step up onto the throat of Knight and wedge both boots against her carotid artery while holding the top rope for added leverage. She then leaps into the air and comes down with a double stomp to Yvonne’s face.
Knight rolls across the ring clutching at her face while Haze turns to size her up. Just as Ivy gets to a crawling base, Haze rushes in and drills her to the face with a version of the shining wizard. She puts Knight on her back and then scrambles into another pinfall. But Mr. Hush is still preoccupied, removing his bowler hat and reaching inside to reveal even more hidden treasures. This time he retrieves a red nose which he squeezes to make a loud honking noise. He then turns back to the action and approaches Haze, impatiently screaming at him to make the count.
Instead of doing so, Mr. Hush bends down and puts the nose on Cassidy’s face.
Al: YOUR LOOK IS NOW COMPLETED, YOU MEWLING WENCH.
Dollar: Given all the make-up that Haze is wearing, I guess that Mr. Hush is under the assumption that Cassidy Haze is a clown as well.
Susie: I’m thinking I’m gonna have a serious case of coulrophobia by the time this match is over.
Unlike Sommers, Haze does not find the referee’s antics nearly as humorous. She tears the nose asunder and throws it out of the ring before getting into the face of the referee. Cassidy is shaking a finger in the masked face of Mr. Hush, who then snaps his fingers, does some razzle dazzle with his arms and then reaches behind the agitated Haze’s ear. He then reveals to the sheer and utter amazement of the crowd, ANOTHER red nose seemingly out of nowhere.
Al: BEHOLD THE POWERS OF PRESTIDIGITATION!
The nose is then placed over Cassidy’s face and given a squeeze…resulting in yet another loud honking noise. Cassidy stomps her foot and begins to pout once again while Knight is crawling across the ring behind her, on the verge of tagging out Pearson. She slowly extends her hand to make the tag only to have her ankle snagged on something. As the official is distracted by Haze, Sommers re-enters the ring, takes the ankle of Knight and drags her back to the center of the ring. He then pulls Knight up to her feet, lifts her up into a back drop suplex position and twists her so that she drops spine first across his raised knee.
Dollar: Back-breaker by Sommers, preventing Knight from making the tag. Some official Mr. Hush is proving to be. He seems more interested in forming his own circus troop than he does in officiating this match.
Damion quickly scuttles from the ring while Haze turns her focus back to the match rather than the antics of the official. With red nose pasted to her face, she descends upon Yvonne, taking her by the hair and leading her to her knees. She steps to the side of her kneeling opponent, slaps her knee and comes rushing in to blast her to the jaw. But Knight rears back at the last second and then leaps to her feet, catching Haze around the waist to roll her up or hit a big suplex.
Neither happens because Cassidy responds with a big elbow to the jaw of Knight, breaking the rear waist lock. Cassidy then spins around and clocks her with a big roundhouse kick, but wait, Yvonne ducks the attempt, causing her adversary to turn into a full circle.
Cassidy turns back towards Knight and gets a forearm right to the face, resulting in a loud honking noise. She then delivers another forearm and another, each one eliciting a honk from Cassidy’s clown nose. The strikes have Haze all shaken up and about to go down just as Ivy steps back, centers herself and steps to deliver the knock out shot, but Cassidy bends down, ducking the inbound arm, catching the creases of her opponent’s knees and ripping her legs right out from under her.
Knight collapses to her back and Haze flips forward into the jackknife cover.
Dollar: Big counter by Haze back into the pinning predicament….but predictably. Mr. Hush is not making the count.
Instead of slapping the canvas Mr. Hush and Al are working in tandem to arrange the balloon animals that Damion expertly put together. Two buckets have been slid into the ring by Al, and Mr. Hush has flipped them upside down so that he can sit the animals on top of them.
Knight bridges not only herself, but her opponent up to her feet just as Sommers comes scrambling into the ring to end this. After getting herself and her opponent to an upright base, Knight hooks the arms of Cassidy and is about to pull her over into a backslide only to spot Damion scrambling towards her. She leaps into the air, kicks the crazed combatant to his chest and then flips over backwards, going right over the upper spine and head of Haze and landing on her feet in front of her. She then applies a front chancery, hooks the Dark Legacy member’s knee and snaps back into a bridging fisherman suplex.
Dollar: Yvonne Knight with an absolutely gorgeous counter that looks to have netted her a victory…that is of course if we had a half way competent official.
Susie: What are you talking about? Mr. Hush might be the best referee in the business. What other official wears a bowler hat to the ring? Answer me that…answer me that!
Said bowler hat wearing official is still laboring to arrange the buckets and the animals before he at last acknowledges the pinfall, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to do anything to make the count. Instead he steps in grabs Yvonne by the knee and drags her off the pin. The infuriated Yvonne rolls over and slaps the canvas to mimic the sound of a three count. She then rises to her feet, holding fingers before the face of Mr. Hush and slapping her palms together.
Mr. Hush has other designs for this match, rather than making the obligatory count. Instead of slapping palms like Yvonne, he uses his hands to snap fingers towards Al, who eagerly grabs a hula hoop and a whip, tossing them both to his non-verbal compatriot. Mr. Hush snatches up both items, but has no intent on utilizing them…instead he forks them right over Yvonne, then motions to the balloon animals.
Dollar: Am I getting this straight? Is Mr. Hush insisting that Knight train the balloon animals?
Susie: He really is making this the most awesome circus act ever.
Yvonne takes the whip and the hula-hoop, examining both with speculative eyes. Just before she can employ them to lead the balloon animals through an elaborate set of tricks, she turns around and instead uses the hula-hoop to ensnare an inbound Damion. The hula-hoop is swung down over his head and is so small it pins his arms to his sides, leaving him trapped. Knight then goes airborne and dropkicks him to the chest, knocking him to the canvas.
The moment that Knight turns over to her knees, here comes Cassidy, lunging forward into yet another shining wizard attempt, but this time its ducked.
As a result Cassidy lands on her feet right in front of the whip…the whip that is now grabbed at both ends and pulled back into the ankles of Haze, tripping her forward. Quickly Yvonne ties the whip around Cassidy’s feet, trapping them together.
Dollar: Ivy has brought an end to the cheating ways of Cassidy Haze and Damion Sommers, tying them both up with the whip and the hula-hoop.
Susie: That’s NOT what those weapons were intended for.
With neither opponent able to stop her, Knight is able to leap from her knees across the ring and slap the outstretched hand of Pearson.
Kathryn leaps the top rope and turns around in mid-air, landing on the middle cable, she then springs off into a twisting cross body onto both Sommers, still trying to pull his arms out of the hula-hoop, and Haze, who is making a futile attempt to remove the whip. She crashes into them simultaneously, bring them all down to the canvas.
Dollar: Hot tag made…emphasis on the hot part by the way…and now Pearson making the breathtaking dive.
Susie: She just took out the clowns.
Across the ring Pearson rolls, finding herself right beside the buckets still holding the balloon animals. She just begins to stand up when a hula-hoop ensnared Sommers comes charging in and gets caught around the leg. Kathryn drop toe holds him down face first into the top of the bucket, his skull bouncing off the steel rather forcefully. He ricochets off, twists and collapses to the canvas just as Pearson removes the whip from her ankles and tries to use it on her opponent. She swings the whip only to have Kathryn roll out of the way, resulting in it popping one of the balloon animals.
Al: PETA WILL BE QUITE MIFFED, YOU ILL BREEDED LEWDSTER!
Haze then swings the whip at Pearson again only for her to grab one of the buckets and lift it up in front of her face at the last second. The whip lashes the steel and knocks it right out of Kathryn’s hands. A grimacing Pearson looks up and realizes that she is totally at the mercy of the whip wielding Haze. This misfortune is quite evident to Cassidy as well, rearing back with the whip while growing the biggest of grins, ready to fully indulge her masochistic impulses.
Haze: Let’s see how good your face looks when it has that giant slit down the center.
The whip rears back when Pearson leaps to her feet, charges forward and steps off the bucket, launching herself into a flying forearm strike that knocks both ladies down to the canvas and the whip out of the challenger’s hand. Plus…there was that loud honking noise from Haze’s giant red nose to boot.
Susie: Pearson preventing being tamed by Cassidy…who looks like she’s seen her fair share of whips in the past.
Dollar: I think that’s a very fair assumption to make.
Pearson rolls across the canvas and spots the completely prone Haze, prompting her to begin going high risk. She rises to her feet, stumbles into the turnbuckle and begins to rise to the very top rope, back turned towards Cassidy in the process. But just as it looks like she’s going to dive, Mr. Hush swoops in, grabs Cassidy by the wrists and drags her a little further away, just enough to ensure that Pearson will have to walk the top rope in order to perform a dive.
Kathryn turns around and begins to shout at Mr. Hush, who points to the top rope and makes a walking motion with his fingers. And for safety purposes, Al is now standing outside the ring and under Kathryn, holding a small net between both hands.
Dollar: And now he’s turning Kathryn into a tight rope walker…
Susie: At the very least he’s got the safety net in place.
Dollar: This is fifteen ounces of ridiculous in a ten ounce jug.
Susie: No, it’s more fun than a barrel of monkeys…..though wouldn’t it be considered animal cruelty to have monkeys condensed into a barrel?
Dollar: Ask Al, he seems to now be the foremost expert on PETA.
Kathryn rolls her eyes, steps across the top rope, showing tremendous agility and is just about to take flight when Sommers steps in and throws the bucket right into her ribs. The steel bounces off hard enough to double Pearson over, allowing Damion to reach out, snag her by the wrist and use to flip her off the top rope. She goes crashing across the canvas with enough force to truly do damage to her lower back.
Pearson flops to her stomach, at the total and utter mercy of the chaotic clown, who has reached into his back pocket and withdrawn a pair of brass knuckles. He doesn’t even care to hide it from the official, who is far too predisposed at the moment in requesting something else from Al.
The holder of Mr. Hush’s on-screen tongue extracts a handheld cannon from beneath the ring, one that fires merchandizing into the crowd. Said cannon is then slid into the ring and eagerly snatched up by Mr. Hush.
Sommers steps forward in to order to drive his brass knuckle covered fist into the face of a kneeling Pearson when Mr. Hush turns and fires the air cannon at the painted competitor. A projectile in the form of a Black Crusade t-shirt is shot directly into Damion’s stomach, doubling him over.
Dollar; And it looks like Mr. Hush was trying to turn Damion into Frank “Cannonball” Richards….but his stomach wasn‘t designed to take such an impact.
The wind has definitely been knocked out of Damion’s lungs, stooped over and grabbing at his ribs, which puts him in perfect position for his opponents. Pearson has rolled to her elbows and knees as Ivy rushes into the ring behind her, steps off her back and then launches herself right at Sommers, landing on top of his shoulders and twists into a hurricarana that takes both herself and Damion over the ropes to the outside of the ring.
Susie: And now we get to see the acrobats!
Dollar: That WAS an acrobatic hurricarana by Knight leaping off the back of her partner and taking out Somm….wait…wait…as much as I hate to turn attention away from this circus act in the ring…apparently we’ve got yet another circus act backstage…..As…as I understand it…cameras have finally caught up with Brittany Lohan…let’s get back there and find out what’s going on.
Cameras transition from the violence in the ring to the violence in the back…where a massive brawl wages on between Brittany Lohan and…the Blacklist?
Yep…you’re seeing things correctly….because Lukas Montgomery and Mika Kozlov have pounced on the broad shouldered beauty, pummeling just one of their opponents at Upping the Ante through punches and forearms. Desperately Lohan tries to fight back against this onslaught, countering with shots of her own, but the number’s game seems a bit too overwhelming.
Dollar: Lohan being jumped by the Blacklist backstage, she’s trying to fight these two off…but how can you ward off a tandem like Montgomery and Mika? Especially when their determined to take out one of their opponents in that High Stakes tag match at Upping the Ante?
Susie: But I thought they were all friends.
Dollar: This is about titles, Susie…titles…you know…sparklies.
Susie: Oh…then say no more.
In spite of the number’s advantage, Lohan is able to wedge a shoulder to Mika’s ribs, charge her across the corridor and drive her back against the wall. Kozlov collides with the plaster with enough force to crack it around her body.
The abnormally strong Lohan rears back and drives her shoulder into Mika’s ribs again, then does it again,,,and again, exacting untold amounts of damage to the mid-section. But in the process she exposes her back to Lukas, who charges in, blasts her to the upper back with his forearm, spins her around by the jaw and then charges her straight at the ambulance that was seen moments earlier. Brittany has no defense as she’s rammed skull first against the back doors of the vehicle, an indentation of her skull left in its surface. She twists right down to the concrete after slamming from the steel ever so forcefully. She then falls to her knees just as Lukas opens up the door she was driven against. Before Lohan can stop it, her head is placed over the steel bumper, and then the door is swung shut, sandwiching her skull between it and the ambulance.
Dollar: OH LORD!
Lohan collapses to the concrete and lies motionless, save for the occasional twitch. Lukas then sits on top of the bumper and interlocks his hands as he leans towards Lohan.
Lukas: I’m really starting to enjoy our time together, Brittany. Shame it has to end so soon.
Mika steps away from the wall holding at her torso before she drops into Lukas, who is there to prop her up. The two then walk towards the doors of the ambulance. Mika climbing up into the driver‘s seat, leaving Brittany to writhe on the ground, hands wrapped around her skull.
Dollar: Lohan taken out backstage by the Blacklist…How long has she been back there fighting these two psychopaths?
Susie: I guess that’s why she didn’t make her entrance. As if her shoulders could even fit through the entry way.
Dollar: They not only took her out of this tag match…they may have taken her out of the bout at Upping the Ante too. Who knows how much damage that door did to her skull. Hey Kathryn, if you need a partner at the pay-per-view, my services are available as Porno Lad has shamefully neglected to give me a straight forward answer.
The Tag Team Title match is still ongoing within the ring, and around it. Pearson is still kneeling a few inches away from the ropes, trying to get up after that hard arm whip down from the ropes to the canvas. She doesn’t get up in time to prevent being used as a prop for a second time, as Cassidy rushes across the ring, steps off her kidneys and leaps over the top rope, twisting into a plancha that connects with BOTH Sommers AND Knight on the outside of the ring. All three athletes hit the mats amidst a huge reaction from the crowd.
Dollar: And we are back live with a HUGE dive to the outside of the ring by Haze…I give it a 6.5.
Susie: An eight…no…a nine…no….a 7.…no….I can’t decide.
Dollar: Why do I even bother?
All three athletes are down and now Pearson is the only one left in the ring, but that isn’t about to last for very much longer. She hops up and down, getting ready to deliver a big dive to the outside. She then rushes across the ring in order to perform a massive dive only to have Mr. Hush leap right in front of her, holding in his clutches, of all things, a foam sword. He extends it to a very confused Pearson.
Al: MR. HUSH BELIEVES THAT YOU LOOK LIKE A PERFECT SWORD SWOLLOWER!
The foam sword is swatted out of Mr. Hush’s hands, but the distraction proved costly as it leaves Pearson susceptible to the Segregated Minds, the boot swinging right into the back of…no….Pearson ducks at the last second, the kick missing its mark.
Cassidy spins completely around and ends up receiving a forearm to the face, followed by another to the nose that creates a loud honk. Haze then steps in and drills Kathryn to the face with a forearm of her own.
Fans: Booooo….
Pearson centers herself and nails another forearm to the nose of Haze.
Fans: HOOOOONK!
Cassidy then delivers a rebuttal blow.
Fans: Booooo….
A return shot from Kathryn.
Fans: HOOOOONK!
They continue to reenact the sound of the red nose stuck to Haze’s face. Before any further fun can be had at the expense of the athletes in the ring during this hotly contested tag team match two figures come out to ruin the shenanigans.
Dollar: Hold onto your butts!
An ambulance backs up around the stage and comes to a stop as close to the ring as possible.
Susie: Butt officially held.
Dollar: I said YOUR butt.
Susie: Oh.
Dollar: The Blacklist out here in that ambulance…as they promised to take out each member of the Black Crusade…but they have more than one enemy in the form of Mr. Hush in that ring right now.
The doors to the ambulance fly open and both Mika and Lukas go darting towards the ring.
Before either Pearson or Haze can respond their pounced upon,m the Blacklist attacking yet again. Cassidy is spun around and hit with a double super kick to the jaw, knocking the Dark Legacy member to the canvas.
An irate Pearson then charges forward and gets caught around the waist, being heaved up onto Montgomery’s shoulder in a spine buster position. Just then Mika rushes into the ropes behind her partner, springs off the middle cable and turns, delivering a twisting buzz saw kick right to the exhausted Kathryn’s face before Pearson is then driven into the canvas with the spine buster slam.
Dollar: The Blacklist not settling for just taking out Lohan backstage…now their setting their sights on Brittany’s partner at Upping the Ante, Kathryn Pearson…and in the process their ruining this tag team title match. Come on Porno Lad, this would be the perfect time to come out here, announce me as your partner and then the two of us can challenge the weakened champions. This is our opportunity, come on…COME ON!
Instead of calling for the bell, Mr. Hush employs a different method of regaining control…through more chaos. He rushes up behind both members of the Blacklist and catches them BOTH by the back of their heads, driving them down simultaneously face first into the canvas. Kozlov pops over to her back at the same time that Montgomery does, leaving them exposed to the truly unbelievable fate awaiting them.
Dollar: Mr. Hush acting out of self preservation…..attacking both members of the Blacklist before they could get their hands on him.
Mr. Hush leaps to his feet and swings his arms out to his sides, hyping the move of all moves…the move that single handedly made an entire wrestling career. He hops on one foot, turning away from Mika and Montgomery in the process. He then leaps again, and again, and again…with each hop the crowd responds with a different letter to his name.
Fans: H-U-S-H
Hush then drops to his stomach and begins to do the worm across the canvas, getting the crowd so high they think there at a rave where they ingested copious amounts of ecstasy.
Susie: Prepare yourself for pure awesome, Johnny!
Dollar: Still waiting.
Mr. Hush then leaps to his feet over the prone bodies of both Blacklist members before throwing his arms to one side, and then the other. Just as the referee is about to connect with his rendition of the worm….
STATIC
Lady Justice sits in the corner of a darkly lit room….the flames in the nearby fireplace reflecting off the plastic wrapped around her mouth and nose. Somehow she has the ability to breathe through the plastic, imbued with said ability by the man seated nearby
Mjolnr…
Cameras shift back to the ring where Mr. Hush is watching the Cartel-tron quite astutely, examining the man with his side aimed to the camera, situated in his giant chair with fist raised to his lips.
Fragarach…
Mr. Hush holds his ground in the center of the ring, palms wedged to his knees in anticipation of Ba’al’s arrival.
Mourneblade…
The crank on the jack in the box continues to be turned, creating a somewhat whimsical tune in the process.
Mythical weapons victimizing one‘s enemies….But all of these tools…pale in comparison to the ultimate weapon….Fear….A weapon you‘ve turned into fun…and frivolity. Ass punches…..worms….people‘s elbows….these do not create fear…Mr. Hush….
Ba’al takes his fist away from his face, revealing his features entirely as they turn to acknowledge the camera.
You do not possess the mental prowess and skill in which it takes to inspire nightmares…Instead, you abuse it as a means of jocularity. As thus, you will be punished…Your sentence shall be carried out…tonight.
The jack in the box pops open and….
STATIC
Mr. Hush is caught from behind by the Quieter to the back of the skull from Montgomery. The roaring elbow to the cranium causes Mr. Hush to stagger into the ropes, ricochet off and come back into the clutches of Kozlov, who kicks him to the gut, hooks both of his arms and then snaps back into the Das-Vi-Dania. The top of Mr. Hush’s head is driven forcefully into the canvas, forcefully enough to send him flipping over to his back with a groggy gleam in his eyes.
Al: LEAVE HIM BE YOU MONGRELS OF THE DAMNED!
The Blacklist has absolutely no intention of letting Mr. Hush off quite so lightly. They drag him up to his feet and pitch him through the ropes, where he twists and collides with the thin protective mats…which actually offer little in the way of protection. Mr. Hush tries feebly to get up but is descended upon by Montgomery, who rushes in and nails him to the temple with a big knee strike. The shot knocks the bowler hat wearing referee into a roll towards the ambulance, grabbing at the bumper and employing it to TRY and reach his feet. He only gets up because the Blacklist allows it, grabbing at the back doors, opening them, and then taking the belt of Mr. Hush and employing it to throw him into the vehicle.
Both doors are then slammed shut, trapping Mr. Hush inside.
Dollar: Another cryptic message from Ba’al…luring Mr. Hush to his doom. The Blacklist doing exactly what they said they would…assaulting Mr. Hush and trapping him inside that ambulance just like the Black Crusade did to Aaron Harrison last week…Sweet…sweet revenge.
Mika leaps into the driver’s seat and begins to take off while Lukas seats himself across the steel bumper of the ambulance, resting comfortably as the vehicle speeds into the backstage area. Within the ring Yvonne is busy checking on the condition of her tag team partner and Damion is rolling Cassidy to the outside, aiding her towards the backstage area. Fury doesn’t even begin to describe just how Knight feels as her scorned eyes settle on the departing ambulance.
A frowning Al is quite exacerbated by the actions of the Blacklist….mumbling…LOUDLY….to himself the words of Mr. Hush as he awakes to find himself in the back of the ambulance.
Drake: Hmmm…I just don’t know…it still looks crooked to me.
A giant portrait of the new IWC President, embodying a full regal pose, is hung on the wall by Executioner. The masked goliath is no interior decorator, evident as he tries unsuccessfully to adjust the huge picture to meet Drake’s specifications.
Drake: Perhaps if you raised the corner just a little….what do you think, Jacob?
Laymon employs the same pose as Drake, the new General Manager of Riot!, occupying the space beside the new President. The two stand across from the portrait and the behemoth trying to hang it on the wall of an office that once belonged to the Icon…but like the IWC…it has become just another object stolen right out from under Orlando’s nose.
Laymon: I think it’ll look great however its hung…Desmond.
Drake: Thanks for that total lack of input Jacob…and by all means…please call me, Mr. Drake.
Laymon: Oh…well…you’re welcome, Mr. Drake.
From one side to the other Desmond tilts his head, thoroughly examining the portrait.
Drake: Actually, put it back the other way you had it…
Executioner, the only one tall enough to hang Desmond’s decorations, grimaces beneath his mask then goes to adjust the picture once more.
Drake: No…doesn’t look right at all. Try putting it….
Billy Mayne: Hey Mr. Drake…
The obsessed Desmond, was blind to the arrival of Orlando’s former Head of Public Relations, Billy Mayne, who came slipping through the door behind him.
Drake: Ah yes…Billy….took your time responding to my summons didn’t you?
Desmond steps around Orlando’s desk and employs a small stool in which to climb up into the large leather chair. He pulls himself in close behind the desk and begins to brush the dust away with a handkerchief received from his vest pocket.
Billy: I’m sorry, Mr. Drake…
Drake: Apologies are an admittance of weakness, Billy…and I’ll not tolerate weakness.
Billy cringes and then falls into a chair alongside Jacob, at the behest of the President, hand gesturing with annoyance to the empty chairs.
Drake: We saw far too much weakness under the Orlando administration. We need to be strong moving forward…we need to embody power…and show this roster that my rule will not be challenged….by way of throwing titles in rivers…making Laymon here choke up spiders…or stealing belts left, right and center. We need to take a stand against the un-rule that Orlando allowed during his regime. Agreed?
Laymon: I agree.
Mayne: I agree too.
Laymon: I agreed first…
Mayne: Yeah, but I agreed with more gusto.
Drake: Enough gentlemen. I’m not surrounding myself with a bunch of spineless yes-men, understood?
Laymon: I understand.
Mayne: I understand, and I understand way more than Jacob ever could.
Drake: I want people in my administration willing to stand up and do whatever it takes to stem the rise of disobedience we’ve been seeing out of people like Simon Cagero…like Leeland Gaunt….
Laymon: I can handle Mr. Gaunt.
Drake: Really? Cause you’ve been given multiple opportunities to do just that and you’ve failed miserably. Besides, I’m going to give Mr. Gaunt a long rope tonight…just enough to hang himself with. The Black Crusade will be doing themselves no favors by inflaming the passions of the rest of the roster through their officiating hijinks. So Mr. Gaunt isn‘t of concern to me at the moment….but the Saviors…yes…Christian Savior is a different story. His actions need be dealt with..
Mayne: So true.
Laymon: Truer than true.
Mayne: But shouldn’t Rose be the one we’re dealing with…she is the one who took the….
Drake: NO! Christian is the problem…nothing is to happen to Rose…understood?
Both of Drake’s employees look miffed and confused by his shouting. Within seconds Drake is composed though, speaking in that same eerily flat demeanor.
Drake: Sooooo….ideas? How do we handle Christian’s theft of the World Championship?
The inquiry is posed as Drake taps the edge of a pen against his desk, creating a level of unrest amongst his subordinates.
Mayne: Ummmm…bear traps?
Laymon: We could always put Christian in a one on one match with Executioner…he’d teach him a lesson.
The response they get is one neither man desired…listening to a long…looooong….loooooooonnnngg sigh.
Drake: Way to think outside the box, gentlemen.
Mayne: I thought bear-traps was a pretty original pitch.
Laymon: Yeah, and look at Executioner, his hands could squish Christian’s head just like that!
The finger snap from Laymon fails to win over the President.
Drake: You would think so, but Executioner has been quite ineffective when handling even the simplest of tasks….
The strategizing session concludes once a conniving…scheming…plotting smirk…yes…a smirk…not a full on smile…extends across his face.
Drake: No…the best way to deal with multiple enemies, is to pit them against one another…let them crush each other…let them wipe each other out..
Laymon and Mayne turn to one another with perplexed expressions.
Drake: Ugh…
No more smiling….just wincing.
Drake: We’ve seen several people…several of our trouble makers….insist that they want to be special referee for the World Title match at Upping the Ante…Sooooo….
He tries to inspire an answer from his underlings, but they still aren‘t getting it.
Drake: Wow….this is borderline sad. OKAY….I’m hereby putting a bounty on the World Heavyweight Championship….whomever hand delivers it to me…will be named the Special Guest Referee for the World Title match at Upping the Ante between Aaron Harrison and Taylor Chase.
Laymon: BRILLIANT!
Mayne: AWE INSPIRING…absolutely AWE INSPIRING.
Laymon: The stuff of legends, Mr. Drake… the stuff of legends.
Drake: Thank you…thank you gentlemen….now put it out there…make sure the whole roster knows that whomever can get the championship…under whatever means necessary….will find themselves in the coveted role of officiating the title bout. Make sure everyone gets this message…except…
There’s always some twisted caveat.
Drake: Don’t let Taylor Chase know…as I understand it…she’s in seclusion somewhere with Bob at the moment…so she’s probably unaware of these proceedings….I want to keep it that way…understood? Good…
Laymon and Mayne nod simultaneously and then linger…and linger…and if they hadn’t lingered enough…now they linger some more.
Drake: What are you two still doing here?
Mayne: Oh…you wanted us to do that now?
Drake: YES!
The General Manager and Head of Public Relations literally grapple with one another to be the first person out the door. They smack each other’s hands away from the doorknob before finally Laymon elbows Mayne to the gut and scrambles out of the room.
The smile…no…the smirk…. has returned to Desmond’s face as he watches his puppets dance…dance…dance…But the smile goes away the moment he turns to spot the horrid way Executioner has hung his portrait.
Drake: Have you ever hung a picture in your entire life that wasn’t of the pin-up variety? Jesus Christ….are any of Orlando’s friends competent?
GO AHEAD…SILENCE ME
These words blare through the PA system to a raucous reaction from the crowd.
Dollar: Color me stunned….
Susie: Would you PLEASE tell me what color that is already?
The music continues to pipe through the speakers as Simon Cagero staggers….yes…STAGGERS through the curtains to the stage. He almost loses his footing…becoming so upper body heavy that it tips him over forward. Right before he takes a header into the stage, Simon reaches out and grabs the nearest barricade, using it to push himself right back up to his feet. Though the slightest touch absolutely kills him, and his him mouthing every vulgarity known to man, the fans just can’t help themselves, reaching over the barrier and patting the very lacerations that secrete blood from his back.
Dollar: After being crushed by that huge stack of crates backstage, Simon Cagero is STILL on his way to the ring. He vowed to get back Bob tonight, and make the life of Taylor Chase miserable….But how in the world is he going to accomplish that now when he can barely even stand?
Susie: A lot of people can change the world while lying on their backs.
Dollar: Yes…I’m so sure you can attest to that….But apparently we’re going to hear from Simon…and we’re going to hear from him after this commercial break.
One more pat on the back of is all it took to put Simon back to his elbows and knees, crawling in the direction of the ring at this point. In spite of his physical limitations Simon is clawing at the apron, the crowd glued to his every action, and about to hang upon his every word…
Lois: Where are we going?
Sweat beads down the face of the X-Class Champion as he and Prince walk…nay…hurry along….hand-in-hand…but this time there’s nothing sweet about this embrace…instead Whitman is tugging at Prince’s palm to put some pep in her step.
Whitman: I made a fatal error in judgment I’m afraid. Should never have shown up here tonight….
Lois: What…what do you mean? Of course you should’ve…this is your JOB….Aren’t you supposed to be wrestling tonight?…I was looking forward to watching you stand up to the Blacklist.
She stops and forces Whitman to pause as well, though his legs are still kicking, eager to carry him out of harm’s way.
Lois: You’re not…running from something are you?
Whitman whips his head back until it almost detaches from his shoulders, and then provides a very faux scoff.
Whitman: Oh no…no…heavens no….You witnessed my manliness just a few weeks ago when I stood against the tyranny of Orlando Cruze and put his private security force in full fledged retreat. Not something a coward is inclined to do…
Lois: I never said you were a coward….You just look…flushed.
It dawns on Whitman that his skin is clammy, and that he must look as white as a sheet hanging in a snow storm. But his physical appearance would look much worse should he tangle with the Blacklist this evening.
Whitman: I’m quite fine, My Dear…I’m just feeling a bit under the weather at the moment.
Lois: You were fine just a few minutes ago.
The back of her hand is used to feel his forehead.
Lois: Are you coming down with that same intestinal bug I had last week?
Whitman: Yes…yes…that’s it…I feel as though I may have some rather explosive flatulence.
Lois: You poor baby….You need to get back home before you mess yourself.
Whitman: Too late for that.
Lois: What?
Whitman: We don’t want to be too late for that.
After that near slip Whitman tugs on the palm of his girlfriend and the two move to the exit. Cautiously Clarence pushes just one of the double doors open and peers outside, spotting his vehicle several feet away…engulfed in flames. Fire and smoke pour from every crevice of the vehicle, and ensure that Clarence will not be getting back his deposit on the rented auto.
A genuinely horrified Whitman closes the door, but before he turns back to Lois, he forms a stiff upper lip and straightens his back…TRYING to look tough. Luckily Lois doesn’t see him breaking down…far too busy searching through the confines of her small purse.
Lois: Good thing we’re going back to your car…I think I left my chapstick in it…
Whitman: We’ll get you a new one.
She at last notices that she’s being nudged away from the parking lot instead of being dragged towards it.
Lois: Wait…where are we going?
Whitman: We’re staying.
Lois: But I thought…I thought you were sick.
Whitman: Ummm…just indigestion from the fizzy sodas.
Lois: Oh. Then you are going to wrestle tonight?
No response….vague or otherwise.
Simon Cagero: Here I am….HERE I AM FUCKERS!
There are several EMTS outside of the ring imploring Simon to leave it, but he blows them off while dropping to a knee in the center of the ring. Somehow he maintains his grip on his microphone, even as he finds himself leaning on the briefcase in his hands.
Dollar: We’re back live, and all throughout the commercial break, Simon Cagero was out here rambling on and on and on, talking absolute and total non-sense.
Susie: I think he’s talking like a poet.
Dollar: Yeah…if that poet happens to be Bobcat Goldthwaite.
The briefcase holding the Evolution Championship is then used to push Simon up to his feet, before his legs almost buckle.
Simon: Come on Ta-Tas….don’t keep me waiting bitch….Let’s make this exchange…let’s get this over with….bring Bob out here and I’ll give you…I’ll give you THIS!
The briefcase is raised aloft and Simon has to hook the top rope with his other arm to keep from going over.
Simon: I said bring your fat-Orlando-pounded-ass out here and let’s make this exc…..
The eyes all focus on the stage as King Zero by Drowning Pool plays over the speakers. It doesn’t take a minute…even a second…before the curtains part and through them sashays Frankie Paradise.
Dollar: You know, Frankie is used to making a lot of woman walk funny, but I think he’s about to cripple Simon.
Susie: You know, the way you worded that just paints a picture in my mind…
Dollar: Don’t even embellish.
Now that his leather jacket and trademark rose tinted shades have been returned to Paradise, he has that arrogant gait back in his step, and that charismatic sway to his hips upon descending to the ring. But perhaps its not his attire that has anything to do with it…maybe he’s so confident given the fact that he’s descending upon a damn near crippled Cagero, and has him totally at his mercy.
Simon sits on the second rope and watches with briefcase forming a protective shield over his chest….he doesn’t remove his eyes from the pompous Frankie, who is now sliding into the ring. A microphone is bestowed to Paradise, who instantly puts it to good…or nefarious use…once again depending on whomever you ask.
Frankie: Look at you, Simon…just look at you…You truly don’t know when to leave well enough alone, do you?
The ailing Cagero tries to stand up only to fall back into the ropes, ALMOST tumbling through them.
Frankie: How many times have you found yourself in this position, huh, Simon? Week after week after week you come limping to this ring, sporting some type of injury, and all because you keep poking the beehive, bitch. You just won’t keep your nose out of other people’s business. You got to have your spotlight…and look at what your spotlight whoring ways have done to you…
Like a doctor he surveys his patient, listing off the numerous ailments both evident and beneath the skin,
Frankie: You got impaired brain function….a look on your face that makes Sloth from the Goonies drop dead gorgeous….and you can barely even walk and talk at the same time…and that was BEFORE the IWC even reopened its doors!
The slandering results in groans from the crowd and a slight smirk from Simon….even if his snide smile results in twinges of pain from his face muscles.
Frankie: And you want to know why you‘re in worse shape now? Cause you won‘t stop running your mother fucking mouth. You’re already gimping around like some old fossil with osteoporosis. From your slouched posture, it’s clear you’ve got a few busted ribs…maybe some internal bleeding. And judging from the look in your eyes…you’re either drunk…which no one would blame you for…considering it’s probably the only way you can deal with looking at yourself in the mirror every morning…or your concussed. And why? Because you keep on putting yourself into the thick of the shit you dumbass! You keep trolling people and eventually you’re gonna get burned…or reported on Twitter…which is even worse. Seriously dude, it’s fucking bullshit when you can’t tweet for an entire day. It’s like having your tongue cut right out of your mouth.
Simon: Are you going to say anything interesting any time soon?
Frankie: Nah…nah….nah…cause guess what slut….the time for words…it’s over…that ship has sailed…Now…it’s time for Frankie’s actions to do all his talk.
Simon: So let me guess…you’re gonna beat me down…you’re gonna steal this…
The briefcase is elevated.
Simon: Then you’re gonna walk around pretending like you earned the Evolution Championship, and that your tough shit simply because you got the drop on an already injured Cagero….Big fucking wow….how amazingly predictable.
Frankie: Well…maybe…just not in that particular order….And there might be a few tweaks, but yeah, you got the overall gist to it.
Simon: Then get it over with already, I’m not getting any younger, and I’m sure the beat down will be far less painful than listening to you speak.
Paradise rears back his head and chuckles.
Frankie: Naaaaah….Simon….the ass kicking you deserve for everything you’ve put me through…everything you’ve put Tay-Tay through….everything you’ve put these blind marks through by giving them the false hope that you could still entertain….it’s coming….but not after the two of us make a little compromise? I can personally guarantee you the safe return of Bob…if you…if you take that Evolution Championship out of that briefcase and you wrap it around these BREATHTAKING abs.
Another sigh…a loong…loonng…looooonng sigh….that would even make Desmond Drake envious, emanates from Cagero, who falls back against the ropes and rolls his eyes.
Dollar: Ha-ha-ha. Is Frankie serious? He’s actually gonna make Simon put the Evolution Championship around his waist and declare him the champion?
Susie: What did Frankie do to earn a sparkly? What I ask…what?
Dollar: He’s won it on the basis of just being downright awesome.
Simon plays up his concussion symptoms.
Simon: Give me a second to process this…as you said…my brain is a little concussed at the moment….In order for me to get Bob back, you want me to remove the title from this briefcase…
He raises said attaché and taps it with his finger.
Simon: And wrap it around your waist?
Frankie: You damn skippy hippy.
Simon: Do you realize this isn’t gonna bring you any closer to going doggie style on Tay-Tay, right? Nor is the fact that you pretty much set her up to fail at the pay-per-view?
Frankie: No…no…your ass ain’t talking your way out of this…
Simon: What’s wrong Frankie…don’t want to face the fact that you fucked your little friend…just not in the way you had intended?
A hand wraps around Simon’s throat, and there’s nothing Cagero can do about it, having no defenses left at this point.
Frankie: I’m sorry…Did I break your concentration? Oh…you were through…then allow me to retort…What do I look like?
The crowd finally is clued in to what classic cinematic masterpiece Frankie is ripping off at the moment.
Simon: You don’t want to know what I think you look like?
Frankie: Do I look like a bitch?
Simon: You said it…
Frankie: Do I look like a bitch!?!
Simon: Don’t flatter yourself.
Frankie: Say something again…SAY SOMETHING AGAIN, Mother-fucker!
He wraps both hands tightly around Simon’s throat and begins to strangle him.
Frankie: You don’t think I had this all planned out? That I didn’t see all this coming? I knew there were strings attached to helping out Harrison last week…I knew it wouldn’t be all rainbows and puppies dogs and glitter….
Susie: GLITTER!
Dollar: Shush it!
Both hands remain tightly wrapped about Silencer’s throat, squeezing with even more force to ensure that he cannot speak up again.
Frankie: I knew that the Blacklist was exploiting me…but what they don’t know…is that I was exploiting them too…it was a two way street BITCH! And I’ll keep on playing them right up to the very end…right up till everyone…myself…Tay-Tay…and Orlando Cruze all get what’s coming to us. In Orlando’s case, we’re not gonna have to wait around to find out what’s in store for him. I already used the Blacklist to show the world, and more importantly, my sugar-tits, Tay-Tay….that he is a no good, downright, dirty-dog…that she cannot trust…..
And Tay-Tay…she already got what she had coming…the World Heavyweight Title…which is going right back into her possession…where it will STAY after Upping the Ante…cause Frankie..he’s about to get what he wants…Not only am I gonna become the Evolution Champion…but I’m going to officiate that match between Chase and Harrison at Upping the Ante…where Tay-Tay will be so amazed by what I do for her, that she’ll fall into my arms, let me suck her face…and who knows what other things might be sucked afterwards….See bitch…I had this all planned out…Frankie never does anything in the heat of the moment…I’m not like Orlando…I don’t overreact…..I plot…and I plot with the best of them.
The throat is released and Silencer falls to his seat, his skin turning different variants of Smurf shades. Frankie then grabs the briefcase right out of his hands and pops open the latches, looking inside to make sure that the Evolution Championship is inside. He removes it and lowers the case to his feet before extending the belt towards Cagero.
Frankie: Now take the belt…put it around my waist…or you’ll never see your precious Bob again…I said do it!
The title is thrown down on top of Cagero and Frankie turns his back on him, arms outstretched to his sides.
Frankie: Come on fucker….they haven’t fed Bob in a while…poor bastard is probably wasting away as we speak.
Simon employs the ropes to reach his feet, glancing between the Evolution Championship in his hand and the back of Frankie’s head.
Frankie: Come on, Bitch…I don’t have all day….I’ve got Orlando to prepare for.
Oh how Simon would like to introduce Frankie to the championship by bashing him right in the back of the skull with the gold…but he doesn’t…Instead he slowly, tentatively steps forward and extends the championship towards the waist of Paradise. The Championship is wrapped around Frankie’s waist and secured in the back, resulting in a loud chorus of heckles from a disappointed crowd.
Dollar: Silencer…Silencer is doing as told….he’s actually obeying the commands of Frankie Paradise…he’s actually putting that Evolution Championship around his waist.
Susie: Maybe his backbone was totally crushed backstage by all those crates that fell on him.
Dollar: This is almost surreal.
A gigantic smirk has formed on the face of Paradise as the belt is securely fastened around his waist. He glances from the corner of his eye at Cagero falling against the turnbuckle for support.
Silencer: You wanted it…you’ve got it. It’s all yours.
Frankie’s smile stretches from earlobe to earlobe, almost cutting his face straight down the middle. It almost becomes unhinged when he reaches down to shift the title around only to find its not budging…not budging one inch….Before he can find out what’s gone amiss here…why the belt seems TOO securely fastened…
Adam: That’s it…we’ve had enough of this garbage!
Aggravated doesn’t even begin to describe the present demeanor of Adam Chase, who’s night has been abysmal to say the least. He doesn’t show up on the stage flanked by the now former Tag Team Champions, but by his all-star client, Gavin Taylor…who is already dressed for competition.
Dollar: Oh please, haven’t we seen enough of Adam Chase tonight? We’re so sick of seeing you come out here to whine…Adam. Go back and coddle your FORMER Tag Team Champions…then watch as Porno Lad and I celebrate with YOUR Championships by the end of the night.
Anger is spewed from a man who is clearly at the end of a very short rope.
Chase: My clients have been screwed over enough thus far tonight…and we’re through with it…we’re through with playing the part of patsies. We’re taking a stand…and we’re taking one right now….Right Gavin?
Taylor takes the microphone from his agent and speaks with an equally as harsh tone.
Gavin: Ever since I got here to the IWC, I’ve been played over and over again. I’ve been used by everyone…and I’ve got not a damn thing to show for it. I took it easy on you Frankie, at Awakening, cause you PROMISED me a World Title shot if you were to go on and win the championship later that night…but then…then I find out you NEVER had ANY intention of actually winning the title to begin with…that you were bound and determined to make sure my sister-in-law became champ Meaning, you were going to screw me over one way or another.
A smiling Frankie merely shrugs his shoulders.
Gavin: Yeah. I made a mistake…I made a mistake of taking it easy on you at the pay-per-view…but I won’t take it easy on you, tonight…Frankie. Something needs to be done about you…about the way you not only manipulated me…but have been manipulating my sister in law. She might not be able to see through your bull…but I do….I see you for what you are…a destructive force in the life of my family…and I’ll be damned if you ever become a member of it.
Frankie mouths the words ‘how rude.’
Gavin: I’m not about to let you keep influencing Tay-Tay…keep ruining her and MY life. You tricked me at the pay-per-view, Frankie, you let me believe that Tay-Tay was beaten and bloodied by the Blacklist four weeks ago, and now you’ve bamboozled Chase into defending her World Title at Upping the Ante with her fucking hands chained behind her back. You’re looking out for her best interest? I don’t think so. You’re using her…you’re using her you piece of shit. You want to get close to her. So she drops her guard…so she’ll never see you coming…so you just walk right up behind her and slip the knife between her kidneys. I’m not about to let that happen…
An infuriated Taylor and Adam Chase start towards the ring, both men all fired up by the actions of Paradise, and the loss of the Tag Team Titles earlier in the evening.
Gavin: Everyone says that Drake is a snake….naaah….I’m looking at the snake right now. And I’m about to lob its head off before it has a chance to infuse some venom in Tay-Tay…
Just as Gavin slides into the ring and Frankie puts up his dukes, a briefcase is swung into the back of Paradise’s skull…swung by the barely coherent Cagero. The case bounces right off of Frankie’s skull and sends him staggering right into the Real Men Use Lariats, putting him down viciously to the canvas.
Dollar: Devastating lariat putting Frankie’s ass down hard!
Susie: I’m so confused…I thought these two were buddies…but then again I thought Brittany Lohan was buddies with the Blacklist.
Dollar: You heard Gavin, and I pretended I was listening for the most part….apparently Gavin thinks Frankie is just playing Tay-Tay to ultimately set her up. Hence why he helped her win the World Title knowing that she would be forced to compete with her hands chained behind her back…and now wants to be the special guest referee for that no disqualification match
Gavin then stands up over top of Frankie before reaching down and grabbing the Evolution Title belt….
Gavin: Seems to me that I’m OWED a title belt…Frankie…so you know what…I’ll just go ahead and take this off your….
Taylor goes to remove the championship but can’t get it to budge. He yanks again but for some reason the championship just won’t give. It suddenly becomes clear that the title is SUPER-GLUED to Frankie’s body. This doesn’t stop Gavin from ripping at the championship one last time and finally ripping away something…just not the gold. Instead he tears off the decal that was pasted over the front of the belt…revealing the true face-plate beneath…reading ‘World Champion Cock-Sucker.’
Dollar: Ah shoot…this is soo…soooo wrong….
Susie: At least Paradise is the champion of something.
Dollar: Frankie Paradise demanded that Simon give him the title…and he did…it just wasn’t the REAL Evolution Championship…and now…now it’s pasted to his stomach with some type of industrial strength super-glue. He’s been branded with a scarlet letter.
Simon has rolled out of the ring and in spite of barely possessing the ability to stand, he staggers up the ramp with a HUGE smile plastered over his face. Everyone in the crowd is grinning and chuckling too…but three men who aren’t quite as amused are Gavin…Chase…and Frankie.
Paradise has dropped to the outside mats on his knees and at last notices what the belt says….and even making things worse…the belt won’t come off in spite of his best efforts to tear it away. Gavin is now in the process of storming back and forth in the ring without a title in his hand but a microphone.
Gavin: Fine…I don’t even want the Evolution Championship…I have my eyes set on ANOTHER piece of gold. ROSE SAVIOR…we’re set to do our dance tonight. So get out here and let’s tango. I’ll beat the location of the title out of you…turn it over to that lil imp, and become the Special Guest Referee at Upping the Ante…where I’ll make sure that no one…NO ONE screws over my sister-in-law. So Rose..get out here….get out here NOW!
Frankie scrambles to the back desperately trying to cover the nameplate of the title with both palms but can’t seem to quite cover up the lettering.
Gavin: Come on Rose…get out here and face what’s coming to you….I’m not going anywhere until you do…
Dollar: Gavin Taylor staying in the ring…he’s not leaving until Rose comes out here and faces him…he’s intent on doing one thing tonight…getting the World Title and employing it as the ULTIMATE bargaining chip…is Rose gonna give him the opportunity to do that…or is she gonna stay backstage and keep the World Title in her clutches? We’ll find out…hopefully…after this commercial break.
The show dissolves into commercial on an impatiently pacing Taylor.
We’re back…and Gavin has gone absolutely nowhere, still pacing like a feral animal within the ring while Chase watches from ringside, an attentive eye focused on the stage.
Gavin: Think you can call my bluff? I’m still out here Rose…and I ain’t going nowhere, honey!
The strutting Taylor, much like his Agent, never breaks eye contact with the stage.
Dollar: Gavin Taylor out here, DEMANDING…yes…DEMANDING to face Rose Savior. But she’s doing perhaps the smartest thing in the world…keeping a low profile…remaining backstage instead of facing this man and giving the entire roster the opportunity to TRY and take the World Title off of her.
It becomes apparent that Rose has no intention of facing Gavin tonight, prompting him to employ a different tactic.
Gavin: Why am I not surprised? The Saviors are nothing but a bunch of hypocrites. You claim you want to make the lives of my family a living hell….I’m not seeing that right now….instead I see Rose cowering in the corner somewhere…pissing her panties. You know what…if your so intimidated…if your so terrified about facing a member of my family instead of trying to blindside us from behind…then we’ll bring the official out here and they’ll count you out…How about that…come on out here ref….do your thing.
Adam nods, proud of his client’s tactics…but that pride is replaced by sheer disappointment when through the curtains and down the ramp rushes Silence.
Dollar: Well…the Black Crusade is consistent…in spite of what happened to Mr. Hush, Silence is still coming out here to officiate this match.
Susie: This probably ain’t too good for Gavin is it?
Dollar: I would think not. Actually, probably not good for anyone.
Into the ring slides Silence, who remains on her hands and knees as she crawls to Gavin’s side and grabs the waistband of his wrestling trunks, employing them to drag herself up to her feet. He swats her arms aside and demands that she never touch him again…the threat possibility eliciting a grin from the masked lady.
She then snaps her fingers before being supplied with her own microphone.
Silence: You want me to HAND you a victory via forfeit correct?
Gavin: Do your job…
Silence: So do you want the obligatory reciting of the ten count, I gather?
Gavin: You’re damn right I do…Now get to it.
Silence: Superb. But before I do that, how about I give you a good frisking to make sure your not concealing any weapons….
Gavin: If you so much as lay a finger on me…I swear to God I’ll….
Silence: No need for threats. Mr. Taylor…I’m doing exactly what you told me to do…my job. Now if you want me to forfeit Rose, you’ll do as I request, understood…Otherwise we’ll be out here all night long, just the two of us…together…and when I start to get bored, I start to sing….And the last thing you want to hear are my variants on everyone’s entrance themes…I could start with yours if you’d like…
Gavin: No…please God no….
Wisely Taylor is nipping this in the bud before it can ever get started.
Gavin: What do you want me to do?
Silence: Okay…remove your shoes and your belt please.
Gavin: I’m not wearing a belt…
Silence: Fine…your boots then.
An agitated Gavin plays along for expediency sakes, unlacing his wrestling boots then tossing them across the ring. Silence examines the boots thoroughly and even smells them.
Silence: Mmmm. A mixture of Old Spice and Undeserved Self-Worth…quite the combination…Okay…now drop trou…
She makes this request while slipping a latex glove out of her pocket and wrapping it around her hand.
Gavin: Alright. I draw the line at full body cavity searches.
Silence: Sorry…but I refuse to start the match before I find out if your smuggling anything in your rectum.
Gavin: Then you won’t be starting the mat….
Actually she will be….suddenly deciding to have the bell rung when Rose Savior leaps the barricadce and springs to the apron.
Dollar: Might want to watch out behind you, Gavin…mwahahahaha.
Susie: Awww…I wanted to see the rectal examination.
Dollar: You’d be the only one….But I think something IS about to end up lodged in Gavin’s rectum…Rose Savior’s boot.
As the bell chimes Gavin is finally clued into the arrival of his opponent, thanks in large part to the exasperated screams of his Agent. He turns just as Rose leaps to the top rope and takes flight, soaring right into a dropkick that nails Gavin right to his pectoral muscle.
Dollar: And we’re underway here with the match…Gavin hit out of nowhere with a HUGE dropkick by Rose…She just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to get her hands on a member of Taylor Chase’s family.
Susie: And Silence wants to get his hands on him in a different way.
Adam covers his face, unable to watch his all star client plummet to the ring with Rose landing beside him. Savior then takes off into the ropes, ricochets off them and continues her momentum via a cartwheel capped off with a back flip across Gavin’s chest. She then falls forward and applies a side headlock on her opponent, driving fist after fist after fist into his face.
Silence watches and does nothing about the illegal blows raining down upon Gavin’s forehead and nose. Before further damage can be inflicted, Gavin reaches up, digs fingers into Rose’s eyes and rakes them blatantly. Savior rolls away, gripping at her face and falling into the ropes, employing them to reach her feet. The moment she does, a recovered Gavin rushes in and dives at her mid-section with his shoulder. But Savior side steps and pushes Taylor along, throwing him through the ropes to the outside of the ring.
Gavin turns and lands on his feet across the mats however, keeping from going down. He then turns back towards the ring which Rose is darting across, stepping up the turnbuckle, reaching the top rope and then throwing herself off into a plancha. It connects right against a stunned Gavin’s shoulder, taking both competitors down to the mats.
Dollar: Rose just all over Gavin like a cheap suit on Adam Chase.
Susie: She’s flying around the ring like she’s on wires…I should so have wires to lift me too…that way I can be just like the Blue Blazer…without you know…that whole broken neck and untimely death stuff.
Dollar: Yeah…nothing ruins a high wire spectacle faster than a death.
Stunned isn’t a strong enough adjective to describe what Gavin is going through at the moment, caught at every possible angle and every possible turn by Rose. The woman holding the World Championship assists Gavin to his feet and deposits his face against the apron. She then takes the hair, leads him to the ring and rolls him in under the ropes. Once Taylor gets to the middle of the ring Rose takes to the apron and then takes to the air.
She springs to the top rope and goes flying into a huge splash that connects right against Gavin’s stomach, quickly hooking his leg after hitting the move.
Silence drops into position and makes the count.
1
After slapping the canvas she rises to her knees and lifts a single finger into the air to confirm she’s made the one count. She then drops down and slaps the canvas a second time before raising two fingers above her head.
Dollar: Is this really necessary?
Susie: Silence is performing her job function to the letter.
She drops down and is about to slap the canvas a third time but Taylor’s shoulder leaves the ring mere moments before he could be defeated.
He then turns away from Rose, who leaps to her feet, grabs his far shoulder and wedges a knee to the back of his skull. She then drops to her back, flipping Gavin sideways by his arm and driving the back of his skull against her raised knee.
Taylor sits up, eyes rolling to the back of his head thanks to that unique but high impact move. Rose then rolls to her side and begins to stand up when Silence swoops in behind her and begins to fill her up…hands ending up cupping Savior’s tits and remaining there.
Silence: AH-HA…smuggling illegal cannon balls into the ring are we…or…I guess in your case they’d be more like billiard balls.
Rose doesn’t take kindly to having her bust size insulted by the referee, pushing her hands away and then spinning to give her a very threatening stare. Silence backs away but points with both fingers to her eyes, then gestures to Savior’s face, insisting that she’s watching and watching very closely at that. Clearly Rose should have been the one watching though, cause Gavin swoops in behind her, grabs the back of her tights and drags her down into the school boy…a school boy that she rolls right through…ending up on her feet then moving in with a roundhouse kick.
The shot misses because Gavin had the good timing to duck his head, the foot traveling right over his skull. He then wedges his hands to Rose’s back and pushes her forward into the ropes. Savior leaps into the air at the last second, landing on the middle cable and springing back only to have Taylor rush forward, catch the small of her back against his shoulder and then twist her around from a back drop suplex position into a back-breaker straight across his elevated knee. He then lets Rose drop off of his knee to her own knees in order to take her around the waist, deadlift her clear from the canvas and drive her against the ring with a side suplex slam.
Dollar: Great counter by Gavin…see…I can remain impartial in spite of the fact that I think Adam Chase is walking hepatitis.
The combination of moves doesn’t end there though. After hitting the side suplex putting Rose to the canvas, he reaches back, wraps his arm around her neck and then rolls to her side, pulling Savior along with him. The two get to their feet and Gavin instantly hoists Savior up into the air in a suplex position only to ultimately drop to his knees and plant her face first against the canvas. The reverse suplex connects with enough force to squish Rose’s beautiful face, sending her flipping over to her back in perfect position for the three-count.
And that’s exactly what Gavin is going for…on instinct alone…too shaken up to even think about beating the location of the World Title out of her. He crawls into the cover, stretching himself over Rose’s chest for the three.
That’s when Silence steps in, stoops over Gavin and grabs his trunks, beginning to lift up on the waistband so she can see inside. Her gloved hand lifts into the air and then Taylor rolls away, kicking at her hands to keep them from violating his anus.
Dollar: Silence still too preoccupied with frisking the competitors in this match rather than making any counts.
Susie: Such a consummate professional.
Dollar: Yes…and its that professional that is going to get the IWC so sued.
From the canvas Rose is dragged to her knees by Gavin, who refuses to be distracted for too long. He hooks both of her arms, uses them to drag her up to her feet and then throw her across the ring with a release double under-hook suplex. Savior crashes with great impact against the canvas while Gavin goes charging right up behind her, leaping into a forward flip and catching the back of Savior’s head in the process. He snaps her skull forward, putting tremendous pressure on the neck and causing her to whiplash back down to the canvas. She is stretched across the ring where Gavin takes further advantage. He scrambles to his feet and into the ropes, bouncing off then diving across the ring into a falling forearm strike across her face.
He then leaps to his feet and approaches the turnbuckle, scaling to the middle rope. Attention turns back to his battered opponent, Rose stretched across the ring and now subjected to a diving fist right to her face.
Dollar: Old school wrestling style on display from Gavin…who is systematically wearing Rose down, leaving her incapable of fighting back as he beats the location of the World Title out of her.
Susie: Once she fesses up, don’t be surprised if you see me run to the backstage area…I’d give my imaginary nuts to hold that title…
Dollar: You’re imaginary nuts?
Susie: Yes…their cashews.
Somehow equally as nuts happens to be the special referee, who steps in front of a seated Gavin and lifts her latex gloved hand in front of his face.
Silence: How about I just use one finger…allow me that much at least.
Gavin: Fuck off you skank.
Gavin turns his focus back to Rose, taking her around the neck and leading her up to her feet before slowly..methodically turning her around into position for the reverse neck breaker.
Gavin: You want some more of this, Rose? You’ll keep getting it until you tell me where that World Title is babe…So do yourself a favor and….
Suddenly Rose attempts a counter…of the backslide variety, hooking both of Gavin’s arms from behind. But she doesn’t possess the strength to drag him down into the pin, prompting Gavin to instead reverse the move and send Rose flipping up and over his head. She lands directly on her feet in front of now stooping Taylor and then delivers a big knee strike to nose.
Gavin stands up straight swinging his arms to stay that way before Rose takes off into the ropes in front of him. She leaps into the air, landing on the middle cable and then springing off as she twists around into a double axe handle only to be caught ribs first across Taylor’s shoulder then spun into a double A spine buster style slam.
The moment Rose collides with the canvas Gavin stands up, bends down into the creases of her knees, and hoists her up into a power bomb position. He lifts Rose right up onto his shoulders and then drives her down with the power bomb right across his raised knee.
Rose flips over backwards, grabbing at her kidneys and cringing from pain. She is then grabbed by the bangs as Gavin bends down and gets straight into her face.
Gavin: Oh baby….this is really starting to get hawt…I’m quite enjoying myself….Do me a favor…KEEP fighting…
An open palm slaps her right across the cheek, putting her on her back. He drops down and places a knee across her throat, holding her in place while shouting into her face.
Gavin: This is McDonald’s, baby…I’m lovin’ it!
He then throws a forearm into her face, followed by a blatant closed fist between the eyes. He then stands up, removing the knee from her throat and putting it down into her face. He then begins to grind said knee across the face of Rose, digging it deep into her eyeballs, trying to tear the irises. He then ascends to his feet and pulls Rose around with him to a standing base, where he places her in a front chancery. He hoists her up into the air, drops her shins on the top rope and then snaps over backwards into the vertical suplex.
Rose crashes across the canvas and then Gavin floats over, instead of going for the pin though, he applies an anaconda vice…the submission locked in deeply. Rose kicks her legs in a valiant attempt to save herself but the hold is too tightly established.
Gavin: I’ll break the hold when you tell…tell me where that World Title belt is….come on now….Come on!
Rose is seemingly on the verge of tapping out, or far worse, disclosing the location of the championship. But that doesn’t occur because she’s in the process of delivering kick after kick right to the back of Gavin’s head, using every limb at her disposal to escape this submission. Gavin breaks the submission of his own volition, taking Rose by the wrist and dragging her up to her feet. He then pulls her forward into his shoulder, heaves her up and turns, rushing her spine first against the turnbuckle.
Savior’s back almost IMPLODES upon impact with the corner, falling to her seat with arms dangling over the middle rope. Gavin then rushes across the ring into the opposite ropes, ricochets off and then comes back in with a big running knee strike to her face, sandwiching skull between knee and turnbuckle.
Dollar: I’m shocked by this…
Susie: That happened to me too when I put the fork in the electrical socket just now.
Dollar: Firstly…you’re an idiot….secondly….I’m shocked Rose is just being so victimized by Gavin. We’re really seeing a far more aggressive Taylor this evening.
Gavin holds Rose up by the bangs, bending down to get into her face.
Gavin: I can keep this up all night….I have no problem with stamina…just ask my prom date…and my prom date’s mom.
The cardio vascular function of Gavin has never been in question, evident as he rushes across the ring into the opposite ropes, ricochets off and comes back in this time with a face wash that connects with absolutely nothing…not forehead…not nose….nothing at all. It misses entirely, causing Gavin’s leg to go right through the ropes and for him to almost crotch himself. That’s when Rose rises to her feet behind him and dropkicks the back of his support knee, taking him down to his back with his other leg still draped over the bottom rope.
Dollar: Rose starting to answer back, but is it too little too late.
Rose then leaps over top rope of Gavin, then to the top rope, and drops with both legs across it before delivering a split legged moonsault. She crashes across Taylor’s chest then rolls away, kicking her legs while holding at her ribs. It takes her a little longer than normal, but she gets to her feet, just as Gavin begins to do the same, albeit leaning back first against the turnbuckle.
Rose then rushes in, leaps high into the air and nails him directly to the jaw with a knee strike. She then takes Gavin around the neck and rushes out of the corner into a big bulldog that connects. The face of Taylor slams with bone crunching impact against the ring, popping him over to his back. Though Rose could potentially go for the pinfall, she instead rolls across the ring and under the ropes to the apron. She stands up tall and grabs the upper most cable, stomping both feet in anticipation of a big dive.
An ailing, aggravated Gavin struggles to his feet, having no idea what awaits him. Chase pleads with him to watch out, but Gavin’s ears are still ringing, leaving him incapable of hearing anything but the screams of the crowd…which blur into wails of horror once Rose takes to the top rope and flies right into a lariat…that’s reversed as Gavin catches Savior on top of his shoulders and counters into a death valley driver.
Dollar: Rose went to the ropes and it cost her big time AGAIN! Gavin just caught her and delivered a devastating death valley driver! She’s having less luck using the ropes than Jackson Adams.
Rose is out…and out cold as Taylor rolls over into the lateral press, victory within his grasp. Silence finally does her job without feeling the need to deliver a colonoscopy on Taylor.
1
She rises to her knees and raises a single finger above her head.
2
She rises to her knees and raises two fingers into the air.
Before the third slap of the canvas, Rose’s shoulder evades the canvas, preventing a major loss….a potential momentum derailing failure to defeat a member of the Chase dynasty.
Dollar; And Rose gets a shoulder up….how much can this woman take?
Susie: Ummm…wasn’t she still fighting just a few weeks ago when she was beaten up worse than a pinata on Cindo de Mayo…which I’m guessing is the Mexican celebration of sandwich condiments.
Dollar: Yeah…feel free to go on thinking that.
Instead of being upset, Gavin looks at this as an opportunity…an opportunity to continue punishing Rose, and getting the information out of her that he desires. He drags along Savior to her knees and then takes her by the wrist, whipping her off into the turnbuckle. Rose crashes sternum first forcefully against the corner and then goes staggering back into the waiting arms of her opponent. He wedges a shoulder to her spine and hoists Rose up into the air when Savior suddenly back flips, landing right on her feet behind Gavin then rushing forward as he turns and tries to take her down with the lariat.
She ducks just moments form being beheaded and then charges into the ropes behind him, instinctively springing to the middle cable and then leaping off into a cross body. Her move strikes nothing but canvas…as Gavin drops down out of position to be hit with the move. She plummets into the canvas and then grabs at her ribs as she rolls across the ring to the center, ailing in an desperate attempt to reach her feet.
Dollar: Once again going to the ropes has just cost Rose! Maybe cost her the victory!
The ill effects of this match are shaken off as Gavin straightens himself out and then goes charging into the ropes in front of a now kneeling Rose, who can’t shake off the many blows she’s taken in this match nearly with as much ease. Gavin bounces off the ropes and then leaps forward into the All Star Maker only to have Rose lunge to her feet, catch the inbound legs, causing Taylor to drop onto his back while Rose flips forward into the jacknife cover.
1
Silence rises to her knees and lifts a finger into the air.
2
Silencer rises to her knees and lifts two fingers into the air.
Gavin kicks out by sitting up, rolling Rose over backwards onto her feet. She then goes staggering backwards into the ropes, falling against the middle cable for support while Taylor races to an upright base in front of her. He then comes rushing towards Savior, launching a forearm into her face that misses when Rose gets both her feet up, driving them into Taylor’s chest.
Gavin staggers back from the blow to the center of the ring, planting one foot behind him in order to stay upright. The kick to the chest sends Rose flipping backwards over the top rope and landing on her feet upon the apron.
Rose is about to leap to the top rope to go springboard but stops…realizing that its cost her several times in this match…and wisely she looks not to jinx herself again. The hesitation is costly, as it allows Gavin to come rushing in…but Rose has an answer to that, bending forward and driving her shoulder through the ropes right into his…FOREARM…Gavin side steps the attempted shoulder block to the ribs and nails her opponent with a straight clobbering shot to the temple.
He then takes Rose around the neck, drags her through the ropes so that her feet are dangling over the middle cable and drops down into the Cubic Zirconium Cutter…eliciting squeals from the crowd.
Dollar: Rose known for her version of the Diamond Cutter….but now we just saw a devastating rendition of it delivered by Gavin Taylor…Almost ripping Savior’s head right off her shoulders.
Susie: That would be a heck of a weight loss regiment.
The impact causes Rose’s head to snap back at a rather awkward angle to say the least and now leaves her positively spent as Gavin crawls into the cover.
1
Silence…you get it by now.
2
Rose puts her foot over the bottom rope to a FAVORABLE reception from the fans to say the least.
Dollar: The ropes have cost Rose several times throughout the course of this match…but they may have just saved her that time.
Susie: How temperamental of said ropes.
Once again Gavin is making the most of a bad situation, choosing not to get upset about Rose’s reluctance to be defeated…and instead he focuses entirely on beating information out of her. He grabs both of Rose’s arms and drags her to the center of the ring before dropping down at her side and beginning to apply the Anaconda Lock for a second time…without the usual set up from the hammerlock DDT…as we would normally see from the All Star Stretch.
Taylor has no need for the set-up portion of the move, already having Rose grounded, and not wanting to giver the opportunity to counter…..but that’s exactly what she does. Because Savior wedges feet to the canvas and then bridges up off of the canvas just as Gavin begins to lock in the vice. She then turns around and leaps over Taylor before rushing into the ropes in front of Taylor, ricocheting off to take advantage of her seated opponent.
But Gavin sees this coming, rolling over backwards to his feet and then charging in to catch her with the Real Men Use Lariats. Unfortunately, Rose also possesses remarkable foresight, hence why she stops her own momentum by reaching back and grabbing the top rope and throwing an elbow into the inbound face of Taylor, knocking him backwards a few steps.
After ensuring that Gavin is dazed, Rose rushes out of the corner and is caught against Taylor’s shoulder, being heaved up into the spine buster. But Rose shifts her weight in mid-air and actually swings her leg over the back of Gavin’s neck, seated on top of his shoulders. She is about to drop into a forward victory roll only to have Taylor wedge his hands to the back of her thighs and shove her up and over his head, sending her flying into the ropes where she lands on the middle cable.
She springs off and twists in mid-air, landing across Gavin’s chest for that cross body she was looking for earlier…but again…the ropes cost her, because Taylor catches her right across his sternum. He smiles and mumbles the words ‘all night long,’ before throwing Rose up into the air to catch her on his shoulders, but it’s Taylor who is caught, around the neck as Savior counters into the Black Rose.
Dollar: DIAMOND CUTTER!!
Susie: Where did she hit that from? WHERE!?! Where I ask of the?
To say the crowd is amazed is like saying that Samuel L Jackson is only a marginal actor….when he happens to be the world’s greatest thespian….and what Rose just nailed may have been the world’s greatest counter.
Rose rolls into the lateral press and hooks both legs to the rejoicing of thousands.
1
Finger in the air.
2
Two fingers in the air.
3!
The crowd is absolutely bowled over when three fingers shoot above Silence’s head, signifying that this match has indeed just come to a GRUELING conclusion.
Dollar: The cutter clinched it…Rose Savior defeating Gavin Taylor with that sensational counter out of literally nowhere!
Susie: It had to come from some place…unless it’s one of those chicken and egg situations.
Barricades are slapped and feet are stomped in recognition of Rose’s heart wrenching victory. She is led to her feet by the wrist so that Silence can lift her arm up high in victory…..but appearances are quite deceiving. As Rose celebrates this win, almost falling over several times in the process, a finger goes right up her bum….Silence making sure that nothing was hidden within the rectal orifice.
Dollar: OH lord…I think Silence just checked Rose’s fluids.
Savior leaps forward, covering her butt hole with both palms and then whipping around with a furious expression on her face.
Rose: Da fuck…..Seriously?
Silence cannot pass up the opportunity to smell her latex covered finger.
Silence: You’re clean…no stashed weapons…and I didn’t find a single polyp either….Come back in a year to be screened again.
Before Rose can lash out a figure comes sliding into the ring….Hurse…who rushes up behind Savior and smacks her between the shoulder blades with a forearm. Her skull goes traveling right into Silence’s face, knocking the two of them down to the canvas. Silence spills through the ropes and to the outside of the ring, dropping to her elbows and knees just inches removed from a shocked Jessica Wilde, who almost drops her microphone.
Savior is knocked nearly unconscious from her skull first collision with the Black Crusade member…but she was fortuitous enough to fall to the outside of the ring. Instead she remains on her elbows and knees within the squared circle, where she will be subjected to whatever Hurse has in store for her.
The eye patch wearing Hurse steps around to Rose’s side, grabs her by the hair and wrenches back on her skull before lifting a taser mere inches from her eye.
Hurse: Let’s find out how much you value those beautiful eyes of yours.
An electrical current shoots through the prods mere inches from her eyeball.
Hurse: What do you want more, Rose….the World Title…or your eyes…you decide.
The taser moves towards Rose’s eye, now only centimeters away from the pupil before Savior tears the hand away from her hair that was holding her head upright. She then crawls right through Hurse’s legs and rolls to her back, waiting for him to spin around. Hurse turns, has two boots wedged to his chest and then he’s shoved off backwards into the ropes, ricocheting off.
He then comes back in towards Rose who snaps up to her feet then leaps into the air and connects with a back heel kick to the jaw of the stunned Hurse, knocking him into the turnbuckle.
>Dollar: Rose her own personal SAVIOR tonight…Hahahahaha. Did you like that?
Susie: What?
Dollar: Forget it…anyway…she fought off Hurse.
A staggered Hurse has no defense against the forearms ferociously shot against his jaw over and over again…nor does he see….given this onslaught and vision impairment….Orlando Cruze storming down the ramp with a Singapore cane in one hand a bag of ice pressed to his swelled right eye.
He throws the bag aside upon sliding into the ring, weapon tightly gripped.
Dollar: Orlando coming out here looking for some retribution on Hurse…WAIT!
The cane swings….right into Rose’s upper back…Orlando bringing her to her knees.
Dollar: Cruze just slammed the cane right into Rose’s back! Has he totally lost his shit?
Susie: Who collects it?
The blow from the cane has Rose kneeling on the canvas, clutching at her kidneys. Wisely Hurse takes a powder, lunging through the ropes as Orlando comes at him with the cane, looking to give him the exact same treatment. Hurse smirks in the direction of the ring while heading up the ramp way…rejoicing over the fact that Orlando came so close…but ultimately failed to get some revenge on him this evening.
But Orlando…in spite of the betrayal of the man he thought would team alongside him tonight…does not lose his focus when that very man evades his wrath. Instead he turns it towards Rose, who sluggishly gets to her elbows and knees, TRYING to get up.
It’s with a heavy heart….noticeable dread inhabiting Cruze’s eyes that he steps back with the cane slowly lifting above his head. Rose gets to her knees, bobbing and waving from side to side as she looks up glossy eyed into the face of Orlando…who just moments ago promised redemption only to ravage an unsuspecting Savior.
Orlando: Don’t make me do this…Rose…PLEASE don’t make me do this…Just tell me…tell me where the World Title is…and then….then we can put all this ugliness behind us.
A smile forms across the face of Rose, who now forms a stiff back, no longer teetering between knees. She looks stern….she looks determined…she looks unflinching even when on the verge of having her skull split in two.
Rose: Do what makes you happy, Cruze…come on…Save your precious Tay-Tay…go on…do it! Save her…
There is so much friction on the cane calluses begin to form on Orlando’s palms, blood about ooze through the cracks of his fingers. Every inch of Orlando’s body is shaking…twitching…the veins popping through his flesh and throbbing in anticipation of what he is about to do…what he is FORCED to do if he wants to officiate that World Title match at Upping the Ante. He takes deep breaths as his eyes bulge from their sockets and his teeth mash to the point where sparks could be sent flying. All the while, even when staring at this rabidly intense Orlando, Rose smiles…and smiles…and SMILES….the toothiest of smiles at that.
Christian: ORLANDO!! Up here you son of a bitch…
Cruze turns his focus away from the kneeling and prone Savior within the ring to the standing tall and defiant Savior on the Cartel-Tron. The crowd has an absolute field day at the sight of the Rising Phoenix, Christian Savior plastered across the big screen, World Title belt sitting on top of his shoulder.
Christian: You want THIS!?!
The gold slips from shoulder to palm, raising high above his head.
Christian: This is the reason you live…you breathe…you wake up in the morning…right? This is your everything?…Right? You’ll do absolutely anything in your power to hold it…right?
Orlando doesn’t even try to give a rebuttal.
Christian: Well attacking a woman who dropped her guard…then threatening to bash her head in with the cane…that doesn’t show much YOUR willing to sacrifice in order to get this back….So how about you REALLY try to earn it, by beating me straight up…
The fans unanimously support this idea.
Christian: We’re never gonna see eye to eye Orlando….that much is evident. We’re never gonna be chums….we’re never gonna be reading from the same script…So how about we get the inevitable over with…How about we finish this once and for all….Christian Savior versus Orlando Cruze…right here…right now…And if you beat me…I’ll give you back this World Championship belt.
Even Orlando supports this idea, throwing aside the cane and gesturing for Savior to bring the gold to the ring so that they can at long last settle their intense rivalry…one that has waged on for years.
Christian: Don’t go running off now Cruze…cause your night is about to become a lot more interesting.
The Rising Phoenix starts on his way towards the ring amidst a raucous response from the thousands in attendance.
Dollar: Oh wow…we’re really about to see it…Orlando Cruze, Christian Savior…one on one…the grudge match so long in the making finally about to be witnessed right here and right now.
Susie: This is bigger than big…it’s huge-tacular!
Dollar: That it is…Christian on his way to the ring to face off with Orlando…we’ve waited so long to see these two clash…they’ve been butting heads ever since the IWC reopened its doors and long before that too…but it all comes to a heading…YAAHHH!
Christian marches down the corridor ending up in the gorilla position, but just as he turns a corner a super kick nails him directly under the jaw….one delivered by Simon Cagero.
Dollar: Simon…Simon with the super kick on Savior! Knocking him out before he could even reach the ring….He must have still be recovering in the gorilla position when he saw Christian rounding the corner with the World Title in hand.
Susie: Why does no one in this building believe in sharing?
The kick leaves Christian on the concrete with an ailing Simon standing above him, still feeling the effects of having all those crates dumped directly upon him. It kills his lower back…but he bends down and grabs the World Title belt…slipping it slowly off of Christian’s shoulder and then throwing it over his own.
Simon: I’ll take that….
Cagero almost collapses under the weight of the World Championship before he slowly turns towards the camera…but he’s staring through it right at the ring where an outraged Orlando is pacing.
Simon: Oops, I did it again…I went and fucked up your plans…didn’t I…Orlando? Well shame on me, huh? But if you’ll excuse me…I’ve got a Bob that requires some rescuing.
Simon staggers away from Christian, who is still clutching at his jaw and TRYING to recover. All the while Orlando is darting up the ramp, hoping to catch Simon before he can get away from the gorilla position with the World Title belt in his possession. Rose remains kneeling in the middle of the ring, eyes focused upon the Cartel-tron….fixed on the image of Cagero walking away with the World Title…on the body of her husband stretched across the concrete…and mind racing with plans…plans to get back the belt…and to ensure that Taylor Chase suffers unspeakable horrors.
Sparkles and Greyson Lovejoy…the ever so loveable duo takes up the screen, occupying the standard interview area….complete with a traditional monitor hanging from the wall behind them and the IWC emblem just beneath it…and….yeah…..you get the gist.
Sparkles: Yo….ladies…gentlemen…impressionable underage girls who confuse me for a stuffed animal and take me to bed with them at night…it’s Sparkles…and I’m standing here with…Da’ PORNSTER!
The fans have a loud…LOUD reaction to the sight of the Original Prankster, Porno Lad himself, as the camera pans out slightly to reveal the man who has already stirred much shit this evening. He is in the process of rubbing at his jaw and grimacing towards the puppet and the ventriloquist set to interview him.
Sparkles: You slipped me that twenty so you’d get a few minutes of air time…which is a strange feeling, cause I’m use to being the one who pays others for their time….usually in the backseat of Greyson’s Dodge Durango.
Greyson: You know what…I was wondering why my car smelled like sex sweat and shattered dreams.
Porno Lad: ENOUGH!
The Prankster puts an end to the shenanigans, mostly because their upstaging his own.
Porno Lad: Now gentlemen…you know as the MEGA-FACE of the IWC…I cannot be caught dead discussing matters such as prostitution, unless I’m using it in a family friendly fashion to insult my opponents. Do you know how much I could be risking if I were to be involved in prostitution scandals? If I’m even slightly edgy it might risk the sales of my brand new Porno Lad, “Eat Your Veggies….Do Your Homework…Go to Bed on Time…” t-shirts.
He points out each word spelled across his brand new brightly colored shirt.
Sparkles: Are you flammingoing right now? What with that obnoxiously bright shirt?
Porno Lad: Is it working?
Sparkles: I know I’m turned on…but then again…..I’d be turned on by a donut with a carrot stuck in the hole.
Porno Lad: Who wouldn’t….Anyway…before you get me to say anything that could risk my appearance on Yo Gabba Gabba…I have a MAJOR announcement to make. So prepare to have weak knees and minds blown people….Because your hero…has made a very tough decision.
A breathe is taken as he turns to the camera.
Porno Lad: Johnny Dollar…TPKid…the two of them have put me in a very tough predicament. They brought up some very valid points…as well as some great merchandizing possibilities…so at Upping the Ante…I’ve decided that I’m going to team with…BOTH of them.
Sparkles: Whoa….whoa…so it’s gonna be a menage a trois?
Porno Lad: Noooooo…..we’re going to comprise TWO separate teams competing for the championships. So now the match is gonna be a four way tag team bout.
Greyson: How is that….
Porno Lad: I can make anything possible…boys…Anything….I’m this company’s superman. If I say I can compete in two separate teams facing each other for the Tag Team Titles…then dag gonnit, that’s just what I’m gonna do. HHHIIIYYYOOO!
If only he had an American flag and giant wooden beam to raise aloft, everything would be right with the world. He storms away, leaving Greyson scratching the back of his skull in confusion.
Sparkles: Ahem…
Greyson: Oh…sorry.
He lifts Sparkle’s hand to the back of his neck so he too can rub at the back of his skull.
Sparkles: Much better.
The lights to an ambulance flash off the walls as it comes driving through the large backstage corridor…presumably on its way to the ring with Mika behind the wheel and Lukas hanging off the side, arms wrapped around the rearview window and standing on the running board.
Montgomery: Come on Mika…hit the gas already!
Mika: I am Lukie, I am.
Montgomery: We don’t want to keep our special friend waiting for us.
The ambulance speeds right past the camera, but as they drive by, Montgomery reaches out, palms the lens and pushes it back, knocking the operator over.
MOMENTS AGO
Images of Orlando Cruze holding a Singapore Cane, Rose Savior kneeling beneath him waiting to have her head caved in, and Christian Savior on the Cartel-tron holding the World Title are rehashed.
Dollar: Seems like we have to do this after every match tonight….but yeah….there’s just so much going on tonight.
Susie: Too much for me to even try to follow…so now I’m just imagining everyone is a character from Care Bears.
Dollar: Whatever keeps you from TRYING to comment on the matches this evening…And this is what happened right after our last bout…Rose was victorious over Gavin Taylor in a TREMENDOUS bout…but then Orlando came out here and assaulted her with the Singapore Cane…DETERMINED to get back the World Heavyweight Title…
Rose implores Orlando to smash her over the skull with the cane but Cruze shows some trepidation, reluctant to follow through with the only means of capturing the World Title…But then Christian intervenes, revealing that HE’S holding the World Title, and after making a challenge to meet Orlando in the ring….he rounds a corner and eats a super kick from Cagero, who takes back the World Title belt stolen from him earlier in the night.
Dollar: Christian came to the aid of his wife, and was about to stroll to the ring and fight Orlando for possession of the world Title belt…which again….will allow whomever is able to hand it to Desmond Drake…to become the special guest referee for the World Title match at Upping the Ante…when Simon super kicked him completely off guard and stole back the championship. Has an amber alert ever been issued on a title belt before?
Susie: I think this will set a new precedent.
The head butt might have put Silence down, but not for very long, because she’s already back within the ring, ready to officiate whatever match is coming up next. She crouches against one of the turnbuckles, sitting on the middle rope as she stretches her joints and applies a new set of latex gloves…so as not to risk cross contamination.
Dollar: And although we’ve got so much going on throughout the building tonight…we’re about to get back to the ac….
The only thing that could take Silence off applying her latex gloves, which her long nails tear through the ends of anyhow…are the blaring sirens and flashing lights of the ambulance that backs up beside the ramp. It comes to a stop to loud chorus of boos, all eyes settling on the driver, and the individual hanging off the side of the vehicle. Lukas opens the door for Mika and then like a gentleman, helps her down out of the cab to the ground.
Dollar: The Blacklist back out here with that symbolic ambulance…the very thing that carted Aaron Harrison away last week coming back to haunt the Black Crusade.
Susie: Run Silence run…or make them smell your finger.
Silence isn’t going anywhere, she’s cracking her knuckles, cracking her neck, cracking her elbows…all so that she can eventually crack the skulls of both Blacklist members. She bends forward and actually encourages the two to enter through her hand movements. Lukas and Mika wisely part ways at the end of the ramp, stepping around to opposite sides of the ring so Silence won’t know where their coming from. She turns side to side, nails protruded, ready to carve some flesh. Suddenly Lukas leaps to the apron but Silence steps towards him, sending him scurrying back to the mats. Mika then grabs the wrist of Jessica Wilde, pulling her out of her chair and snatching it up.
A horrified Jessica, who was physically abused last week by the Blacklist seeks refuge beneath the ring…the only safe place she could think of.
Kozlov then hops to the apron with the chair only to drop back down when Silence swipes at her eyes with her claws. This stalemate proceeds until.
STATIC
Conrad Veidt….
Symbols are drawn on the walls utilizing a crimson palate. Lady Justice sits Indian style on the floor, using her fingers to paint the walls with what must assume is blood.
Max Shreck…
Ba’al stands over the fireplace, stroking the logs within with a poker, sending ashes ascending to the heavens.
Lex Baker….
The symbols continue to embedded into the walls by the nails of Lady Justice, her eyes still bandaged with blood seeping through.
Masters of horror….terrifying thespians of German cinema….but that‘s just it…they were thespians…mere characters….
The poker withdrawals from the flames, revealing that the end is glowing red due to the sheer amount of heat it was exposed to for so very long.
Though they may have played their roles to the hilt, that’s all they were doing…playing roles….They didn’t truly embody fear….and neither do you…Silence….Farbe bekennen….show yourself, Silence…expose your true nature…Your just a character…an over the top one at that….Das ist nicht mein fall….Silence…I do not masquerade anything…I’m not a character…I’m not a trope….I’m not a cliché…I am not a thespian….
The fire poker approaches Lady Justice, with her back still aimed towards the approaching Ba’al. He pulls back gently on her jaw and strokes her hair while inching the red hot poker towards her flesh.
I am exactly as I preach…I am FEAR.
STATIC
When the lights come back up Lukas Montgomery and Mika Kozlov are in the ring ready to pounce upon the distracted Silence…but she’s nowhere…nowhere in sight. Wait…scratch that…there is one area of her body visible…her legs sticking out from beneath the ring and kicking as they scramble to get under it. The Blacklist spots this image on the Cartel-tron, prompting them to drop down to the outside and quickly grab her ankles, dragging her back out from under the squared circle.
Dollar: Silence wisely tried to get out of harm’s way while that video was playing to distract her…and she almost got away with it two if it weren’t for these meddling Blacklist.
Silence is dragged right out from under the ring, and plucked to her feet. Oddly enough instead of going at it with Lukas and Mika to defend herself, she’s raising her hands defensively, BEGGING off. They don’t listen even as she screams for mercy…getting a boot to the ribs and then being led by the back of her head right into the steel steps. Her masked face bounces off of the steel viciously and then she goes twisting into the clutches of Montgomery. He takes her by the skull, charges her around the ramp and then drives her shoulder first into the back doors of the ambulance.
She crashes off of the steel and then twists to her seat on the back bumper of the ambulance. The door is then swung open by Mika, revealing Mr. Hush inside chained down to a cot. There is nothing that Silence can do…seemingly defenseless as she’s thrown into the back of the ambulance right alongside her Black Crusade teammate. The doors are then slammed shut, locking her inside.
Mika hops behind the wheel with Lukas leaping into the passenger seat as the ambulance then speeds through the curtains to the backstage area.
Dollar: Another member of the Black Crusade falling victim to the Blacklist…being tossed into the back of that ambulance. They’re really making good on their vow to purge the IWC of the Black Crusade tonight…and their doing it one member at a time.
Susie: They really are sucking all the fun out of the air tonight.
Lois: NOW where are we going?
Whitman: Please trust me, Love.
It becomes harder and harder to put her faith in the X-Class Champion as Whitman leads her by the wrist through an increasingly dark corridor. The closer they get to a door at the end of the hallway the more trepidation Whitman shows.
Lois: I would if you were a little more open with me. Why did you give that stage-hand a twenty dollar bill? Why are we running from one end of the arena to the other when you should be getting ready for your match? And why are you acting so weird? I hate to come across as some kind of wet blanket like Skylar White here….
Whitman: Whom is this Skylar White you speak of?
Lois sighs.
Lois: That’s not important….you NEED to let me know what’s going on here….you should feel comfortable opening up to me.
Whitman: But of course….
Lois: If your afraid of facing that guy, Lukas Montgomery tonight…just…just admit it. There’s no shame in being afraid.
Clarence stiffens his back and protrudes his chest.
Whitman: Don’t be so presumptuous, Dear. The likes of Montgomery, even given his penchant for pyromania, does not intimidate me. I happen to be the X-Class Champion….which means I exude every masculine quality women find so endearing. Now if you’ll kindly join me in seeking refuge in this broom closet for the rest of the night…we should be safe to continue our conversation…
Lois: Actually Percival, I think Kitty’s gonna need me to start setting up for our next group meeting after the show tonight. So ummmm….I don’t think I’ll be joining you in said broom closet.
Whitman: Are you sure…it’s rather spacious.
Lois: I’ll just see you after the show, okay?
A kiss is placed on the lips of Whitman before Lois takes off…naturally skeptical of Whitman’s claims of courage. Clarence realizes that his deception has been paper thin….clearly evident to Lois….placing some unnecessary strain on their fledgling relationship. Whitman is about to pursue her in a valiant attempt to smooth things over when he hears a loud bang down the hallway. He almost leaps right out of his epidermis, prompting him to crouch as he approaches the janitor’s closet, tip toeing towards the only safe place in the building. He opens the door and is just about to enter….
At last my dear boy.
A hand reaches up and grabs the chain on the light bulb swaying from the ceiling, pulling it until the room is properly illuminated. The pale flesh of Mr. Gaunt is brought into view, seated upon several stacks of disinfectant soaps.
Mr. Gaunt I knew you would come along eventually.
Clarence puts a hand over his heart, while Mr. Gaunt discretely puts a boot to a can of gasoline, slowly pushing it backwards into the shadows before it can be spotted.
“Chalk Outline” tears through the speakers and Jackson Adams tears through the curtains to the stage. There is a mixed ovation at the sight of Adams as he embarks towards the ring, microphone already griped in hand and angry expression twisting his face.
Jackson Adams: IIIII’MMMMM BACK!
Jackson steps right around the steps and then rushes up them to the apron, where he pauses before leaping over the ropes into the ring.
Dollar: Indeed he is…as if we haven’t had enough people hijacking our show thus far.
Susie: I thought Adams had a brain boo-boo and couldn’t compete anymore.
Dollar: According to Jackson…that’s not true…he WAS drugged at the pay-per-view….And I think Desmond Drake, in a roundabout way, accepted responsibility for that drugging, considering he told Orlando just a few weeks ago that he was the one who sent the tainted pizza to his office.
Susie: Good lord, it would have gave him a lot of ammunition to use against Orlando when taking over the company if he could have proven that Cruze was a drug addict.
Dollar: Which I believe was his ultimate goal.
The pot stirrer steps back and forth, tapping fingers on the microphone to make sure the crowd can hear everything he has to say.
Jackson: As if I ever actually went anywhere. No, fraid not people….because the IWC…it finds a way to keep its claws dug into you…to keep you from going anywhere! And they have their nails embedded pretty damn hard in the flesh of Jackson Adams….flesh that’s been torn away over the years….Torn away in defense of this company…in defense of the IWC….in a valiant effort to make this place the absolute BEST wrestling federation in the mother fuckin cosmos…
The crowd is surprised to find themselves cheering on Adams…actually supporting his view of the IWC…which for once it’s entirely misguided or self-serving.
Jackson: And up until recently, that’s just what it’s been….a God damn global juggernaut….but something threatens to change all of that…something threatens to tip the stool and send the IWC face planting to the floor…And that’s Desmond Drake…that’s the Blacklist…that’s all these new talents who have come in here and been handed everything while guys like I…have been FORCED to sit on the sidelines….have been pushed aside…under false pretenses to boot.. I don’t care how many HMO documents that knee biting little bastard, Drake, can throw around showing that I’m suffering some type of concussion…it isn’t true…I was drugged…I was poisoned so that Drake could TRY to set up Orlando Cruze and his gaggle of self-centered, ego tripping whores…I was caught in the middle of a mother fucking power dispute….where either side didn’t turn out particularly in my favor.
Jackson has lost any semblance of a filter, shouting straight from the hip….letting it all hang out…just like did at the pay-per-view…just in a more metaphorical way this time.
Jackson: Let’s look at my options here…either I team with Desmond Drake and get shoved down the card and fed to people like the Blacklist on a weekly basis….or just sit at home being a pan in his nefarious schemes…or I team with Orlando…and I end up shoved down the card so that he can push Taylor Chase and Gavin Taylor and all the other newbies down our throats? Yeah…lose/…lose situation if you ask me….Well people…I guess I’ll take what’s behind door number 3…the third option….where Jackson Adam isn’t treated like fodder…where Jackson Adams isn’t treated like a torch pushing vet past his prime just here to put people over and be a good hand…Where Jackson Adams stops being a victim, and starts being the rule breaking…headline hogging…spotlight stealing…controversial creating son of a bnitch that everyone loves to hate….
Axl: Stop the presses…if people actually use presses that is…considering print is pretty much dead…but you and I…we actually agree on something Jackson.
The New York native gets the type of reaction that Derek Jeter would soak his bed-sheets if he received. Axl Evermore steps through the curtains like a conquering hero, welcomed home like Cesar striding through the gates of Rome after defeating the mongrel hordes. But he hasn’t defeated anyone as of late…which seems to stick in his crawl.
Axl: We’ve never really crossed paths Jackson, until the IWC’s rebirth…when we were both put in this ring to perform in the very first match of the ‘NEW ERA.’ Isn’t that ironic?
Up the steps to the apron Axl ascends before sliding through the ropes and making no bones about getting up in Jackson’s grill.
Axl: Two IWC vets faced off to ensure people’s asses would fill the seats here in the Manhattan Center…we were used again to give the IWC that resurgent push it needed right out of the gates…and then…..then what happened? What happened after our ‘name value’ was exploited? We were benched…we were sent home…
There is no argument from Adams, who nods and nod and nods until he looks like a human bobble-head.
Axl: Allow me to reiterate what you said just a moment ago…We busted our asses for this place…fighting through injuries…personal matters….vagina monologue type shit…so that the IWC could be all that could it be…and we both jumped at the opportunity to return ‘HOME’ when the IWC reopened…because we wanted to KEEP making this the absolute best company in the cosmos…
He gestures to Jackson upon utilizing his exact same words.
Axl: But this isn’t home…the locks were changed…the windows have been barred…and we were forced to sleep in the dog house while Taylor Chase….The Blacklist….and Frankie Paradise….they’ve been living it up in the penthouse…And the second we expressed so much as an iota of doubt…raised a single red flag…we were diagnosed with some ‘mysterious’ concussions that forced us to sit on the sidelines. Forced us to watch these new ‘STARS’ rise to the top instead of being able to properly challenge them…instead of making them PROVE they deserved the opportunities that were being handed to them. We weren’t given the skeleton key that opened all the right doors, were we Jackson?
Jackson: Nope…
Axl: We didn’t drop to our knees and cram Orlando’s or Desmond’s cocks down our throats in order to become the faces of this company…did we…Jackson?
Jackson: Far from it…though I do admit….I did do a little shameless ass kissing in regards to Orlando, only because I was blind to the direction he was taking this company.
Axl: Yeah…a direction that works so hard to phase out the people who built this company…in favor of pushing to the top a bunch of undeserving….unproven punks who haven’t done anything…ANYTHING…to get the spots we were pushed out of. Punks who‘s ego and attitudes are threatening to destroy what we put our sweat and blood into…What we sacrificed are friends and family for…what we‘ve devoted our entire lives too.
Nathan: As much as I hate to admit it…the two of you are 100% right…
Down the ramp now comes The Best of Britain…one Nathaniel Creed…the past…present…and presumably the future of the IWC….He makes his way down the ramp like Axl, shows no hesitation about sliding in and getting right up in the face of his long term nemesis, Jackson Adams.
Nathan: Jackson, you and I…we’ve never seen eye to eye on anything…But I can’t argue with you this time…you’re right….right about everything you came out here to say. It’s been downright disgusting how some of these new guys have instantly launched themselves to the top. Instead of working at it…like the rookies I’m training down in the New Age…ungrateful piss-ants like the Blacklist come in here…injure talent…threaten management…and piss and moan until they get what they want….And thus far…management has just fed…and fed…and fed…these egos…while pissing on our heads and telling us it was raining. And by management, I’m talking about Orlando Cruze, too…my good friend…my brother…who has been led around not only by the World Title belt…but by his meat and two veg…much to the ruination of the house the three of us were instrumental to building…
Jackson: At this rate…they might as well as slap a God damn condemned sticker on the front door to that house…cause that’s just the direction its headed in….
Nathan: Straight down the lou.
As shocking as it might be, Adams and Creed are actually finishing one another’s sentences.
Axl: So then…the three of us…we’re in agreement about something?
Nathan: As mind blowing a thought as that may be.
Axl: If the three of us can be on the same page regarding the corruption in the IWC…it must be pretty fucking serious.
Jackson: Oh yeah.
Axl: And something HAS to be done.
Nathan: Definitely.
Axl: The three of us need to make the new guys around here learn what the IWC is truly all about…We need to make them earn their stripes…We’re gonna make them TRULY prove they deserve the recognition they’re getting…and that we SHOULD be pushed aside in favor of passing them the torch.
Creed: If they want that torch…they’ll have to earn it…not be handed it.
Jackson: No more forged doctor’s notes….no more LSD laced pizza….no more dick sucking and asshole licking….no more playing the parts of corporate patsies…and no more being used to make others look good…Last week was the final straw….I should be standing here World Heavyweight Champion right now…and instead I was fucked over in favor of Taylor Chase…who never proved she deserved to win the Championship in the first place…that bullshit ends right now…right fucking now….
Does it now?
The lights in the building dim slightly, drawing everyone’s focus to the only truly illuminated portion of the Grand Ballroom…the Cartel-tron. They’re drawn like gnats to a bug light…attention diverting to three faces on the big screen…faces belonging to Rain….Priest…and Brandy Danielle Garret…all three occupying a very dimly lit and completely irrelevant room. Their faces, which stare down into the camera, are all that matters…emotionless faces at that.
Rain: Allow me to provide proper introduction….I’m Rain…and joining me is Mrs. Garrett, and our very own powerhouse, Priest.
Priest: Pleasure to make your acquaintance gentlemen.
Brandy: And now that we got that out of the way…ummm…let us get this straight…..Cause we’re having a little trouble understand where your coming from. So if you would kindly remove the tampons from your vaginas and explain this to us…we would be very grateful.
Rain: Yes…are we hearing this right? Is Jackson Adams…the once great pioneer for change and evolution in this industry…the man who once represented the Alpha Generation…a group based around pushing new talents…now part of a movement to hold down the rise of new stars…like us…the group known as the End Effect?
Priest: And that’s just what we are gentlemen….the End Effect…the End of the old ways…a representation of death…death of the IWC as you once knew it.
Rain: You three didn’t get the notice? The old IWC…it’s six feet under…
Priest: We are the grave diggers…
Rain: So maybe the three of you….should be picking your plots.
Priest: Prepare to see the final nail in the coffin hammered in at Upping the Ante.
Rain: Where the End Effect will make its debut….And you can either be there to see the TRUE rebirth of this company…
Brandy: Which will undoubtedly cause you to soak your adult sized depends…
Priest: Or you can make a much better decision and continue to sit on the sidelines pissing and moaning because life has passed you by.
The Cartel-tron cuts out and within the ring Adams, Creed and Evermore are in the midst of intense conversation. Conversation that only concludes when….
“In the Ashes They Shall Reap” plays over the PA system and results in pretty powerful reaction from the crowd
They are unglued at the sight of Gary Matt and Brooklyn Smith stepping to the stage…microphone pasted to the palm of the Maniac.
Matt: Erm…excuse me…but is the first meeting of OLD….the Obsolete Lazy Douche-Bags…over with yet? Cause I’d like to go ahead and wrestle Nathan here so I can put my attentions elsewhere…like focusing on destroying the Blacklist….
The crowd has a very mixed reaction regarding, still seeing him as a square peg trying to fill a circular hole….so unsure of what to make of him and his motives.
Matt: But you know what…before we get to my Riot in ring debut…how about Brooklyn and I respond to your little criticism about the new talent emerging here in the IWC…And I use the term ‘new’ very loosely…considering that we’re already pretty established around the wrestling world. Not like we’re a bunch of bright eyed…bushy tailed…green around the gills…soft in the belly…bush league bitches…more adept at asking you if you want paper or plastic than wrestling in a ring. Most of us have already been World Champions around the wrestling world….and we don’t feel the need to HAVE to prove ourselves to you guys…maybe the crowd…but not to the likes of Nathan Creed…Jackson Adams…and Axl Evermore…Which is why Brooklyn and I were so comfortable rushing down the ramp last week during the main event to make an impact on the Blacklist….Cause we‘ve been in main events….We‘ve been THE main event in promotions all around the world. So this unproven ‘rookie‘ non-sense…needs to be canned right now. We‘re just as deserving of the spots we worked for YEARS prior to IWC‘s relaunch to earn, so why don‘t you get your facts straight and pull your panties out of the cracks of your asses..
The fans like this…they like it so much their nipples twinge with excitement.
Nathan: Mr. Matt…I appreciate that…I’m sure the three of us understand that you’ve had accomplishments in other federations…but THIS isn’t other federations…THIS is the Independent Wrestling Cartel….and until you’ve accomplished something here…in THIS company….nothing you’ve done around the world…in other circuits…counts for jack and squat.
Matt: Hmmmm….fine then…Nathan…if that’s what you believe…then by all means allow me to get this whole ‘proving myself‘ garbage out of the way…Let’s make sure there will be no further miscommunications…like the one Brooklyn and I faced last week, where our attack on the Blacklist indirectly incurred the wrath of Unity…who totally misconstrued our intentions….thinking we were just trying to shoot the top rather than take out Kozlov and Montgomery…
Adams: What the fuck are you rambling about?
Matt: Though we’re not like the ‘rooks’ in your precious New Age…Nathaniel…we’ll do things the ‘right way,’ just like them….by facing the ‘established’ order here in the IWC…and proving our worth rather than coming in here with some sense of entitlement.
Nathan: That’s respectable of you….And if that’s how you want to do it…then by all means…step into this ring with me now…and let’s see what you’re capable of in the IWC…not in defunct territories.
Jackson: Defunct for good reason if they were depending on the likes of you.
Creed turns and insists that Jackson turn down a notch but Adams is too worked up to maintain any impulse control, barking right back at his age old nemesis. Evermore quickly intervenes before this uneasy alliance can degenerate.
Dollar: Ladies and gentlemen….don’t change the channel…in spite of the fact that there’s probably a hell of a game on Monday Night Football I’m not watching on my Iphone at the moment. Because we’re about to witness Nathan Creed going one on one with “The Maniac” Gary Matt, in his Riot debut…right here…right after the commercial break.
Susie: How come wrestlers don’t get to wear the padding NFL players do….At least let them put on some protective cups….Just thank of how many babies have been lost because of poor penial protection.
Dollar: I’d rather not…thank you very much.
Axl is doing an effective job of cooling Jackson’s hot head as the two vacate the ring and Gary Matt is in the process of stepping into it. The only man left within the squared circle is Nathan Creed, and he’s waiting with hands on knees…but those hands will soon be locking up with the newest addition to the IWC roster.
The bell has chimed at the behest of one Al Todd-Meritweather, who will be assuming the role of official for this one on one confrontation between Creed and Matt. All under the attentive eyes of one Brooklyn Smith, who watches arms crossed over chest from ringside…
Dollar: We’re back with Nathan Creed about to test the abilities of newcomer Gary Matt….and he has insisted that both Jackson Adams and Axl Evermore clear the ringside area so that this match can be totally and completely balanced.
Susie: Unlike my boobs. One seems to be a bigger than the other…..hence why I lean so heavily to the left.
Dollar: Another wonderful if not completely irrelevant tidbit.
Matt and Creed proceed towards one another and tentatively establish a collar elbow lock…neither man wanting to make a risky gamble in the early stages that would put them in an immediate disadvantage. Nathan swings under Gary’s arm, switches behind his back and applies a hammerlock almost instantly. Gary makes an attempt to counter by spinning out of the hammerlock but Nathan catches him around the neck and transitions into a side headlock, dropping to a knee to apply further leverage.
Almost instantly Gary plucks his head out of Nathan’s arms and stands up behind him, stepping forward to catch him around the neck and apply his own side headlock…But Creed steps back, avoiding the submission and catching Matt’s wrist, putting him back in the hammerlock.
Gary slaps his shoulder, trying to fight off the pain that is coursing through it. He then plants his feet and pushes himself backwards, driving Nathan spine first into the turnbuckle as he tries to maintain the hammerlock. He then drops down to his knees and actually connects with an arm drag, flipping Creed out of the corner and across the canvas.
Creed goes rolling across the canvas to his knees just as Gary rushes out of the corner to take advantage only to be caught with a drop toe hold, putting him down face first into the canvas. Creed then leaps over his back, catches him by the arm, twists it around behind his back and applies another hammerlock. This time he leaps into the air though and comes down knee first into the point of Gary’s elbow, inflicting some serious damage.
Dollar: Nathan back to the hammerlock…a nice fluid transition in this match thus far.
Creed continues to twist the arm when Matt tucks chin to chest and drops into a forward roll, ending up on his back with Nathan slipping in behind him, continuing to twist the arm into the hammerlock. He then takes Gary by the crease of his elbow and folds the arm over behind the back of his opponent’s neck, applying a modified top wrist lock/key lock.
Gary tries to fight his way free but the second he shows any attempt at escaping the hold he’s dragged down to his spine with his arm still bent over backwards, knuckles wedged to the canvas with elbow elevated into the air. Nathan then stomps right down on the elbow, almost fracturing the arm as a result. Gary rolls across the canvas clutching at his arm and then reaching with his free one for the ropes. He fills at the cables, utilizing them to reach his feet when Nathan steps in and drills him to the ribs with a knee strike.
He then applies a hammerlock on Gary while still standing in front of him, bending down and wedging a shoulder to his opponent’s ribs. Gary is powered backwards into the turnbuckle, his arm remaining behind him and taking much of the impact as he’s driven into the turnbuckle.
Dollar: Creed giving the Maniac a lesson…this is a clinic.
Susie: The last time I was in a clinic I got prescribed that lindane shampoo I referenced last week.
Dollar: Why remind us of that? Anyway, Nathan may be proving his point…it doesn’t matter what Maniac has done in previous wrestling companies…the IWC is a whole nother animal…where the wrestling is on a whole nother level. Which, by the way I will have NO trouble adapting to at Upping the Ante where I…apparently will team with Porno Lad…against Cassidy Haze and Damion Sommers and Porno lad and TPKid….God this is going to be the epitome of clusterfuck.
Gary bends forward to grab at his arm but Nathan grabs said limb and steps to the side of his opponent, applying that same hammerlock variation. He employs it to turn Matt into a full circle before throwing him shoulder first down into the second turnbuckle pad. There is nothing to protect Gary’s shoulder from the corner, which he rams against ever so viciously.
Creed steps back, putting Gary through the very same punishment that he was subjected to just last week against Gavin Taylor, targeting the arm of his opponent just like his arm was. He then steps up behind Gary, clutches his wrist and pulls him up to his feet before placing the arm in another top wrist lock. He then delivers a leg sweep, putting Gavin to the canvas with a STO…top wrist lock combination.
The fist of Matt collides viciously to the canvas and his arm takes quite the mangling as a result. He sits up and pulls his arm across his stomach, cradling it there thanks to the tremendous pain flowing from wrist to shoulder.
That pain is exacerbated by Creed, who continues to put on an absolute wrestling clinic. He steps in, grabs the arm, folds it behind Matt’s head and applies the overhead wrist lock once again.
Dollar: Like a piranha drawn to blood…Nathan focuses on the injured limb…contorting and contracting it at so many various angles and with so many interesting combinations.
Susie: Plus he’s British….and he said meat and two veg…which might be the single greatest combination of words since ‘hamburger-helper.’
The Maniac inches his way towards his feet, still trying to fight free from this over head wrist lock, but Creed isn’t about to let that happen. He forces Gary back to his spine across the canvas with his arm bent over backwards, fist wedged to canvas and elbow aiming towards the scaffold. Nathan then lifts his foot and stomps down at the elbow only to have Gary roll out of the way in the nick of time. Creed’s foot hits the ring just as Gary reaches out and catches him around the ankle, hoisting it into the air. Nathan falls to his stomach, Gary stands up behind him and applies the ankle lock.
Dollar: The Maniac finally getting in some offense against Creed…but it doesn’t look like he can get that hold fully established given the condition of his shoulder.
Gary grimaces as he tries to put the hold on Nathan and finds his shoulder pulsating with pain, unable to fully clasp the hold. This allows Creed to roll over to his back and then pull his own leg down to his chest, bending Gary forward so that he can reach up and grab Matt’s arm. He then twists around said arm and pulls Gary down to the canvas in order to apply the…you betcha…the hammerlock.
This time Gary rolls through though, right over Nathan’s arm and ends up on his seat. Creed then steps up behind him and grabs the arm once again, about to apply the overhead wrist lock only to have Gary reach back, hooking the leg of his opposition. He lifts it into the air, causing Creed to collapse to his back while Gary stands up and turns towards his caught leg, applying an ankle lock.
Before he can be rolled over to his stomach and placed in the submission, Nathan lifts his free foot into the air and kicks Gary right in his swollen rotator cuff. Gary turns away, doubling over his arm, rubbing at his bicep and shoulder while Nathan rolls backwards to his feet and steps up behind the debuting star, catching his arm and placing it around behind his back.
He uses his shoulder to wedge Gary’s arm into a hammerlock then hoists him up into a back drop suplex position only to have Matt flip over backwards. He lands right on his feet behind Nathan and then wraps arms around his waist, pushing him forward towards the turnbuckle. At the last second Creed performs a standing switch, swinging behind Gary, catching him around the waist then snapping back into a bridging German suplex.
Al Todd-Meriweather looks around, unsure what he should do. Therefore he stoops over Nathan and begins a five count in order to disqualify Nathan.
Creed breaks at a count of five.
Dollar: Does Al Todd-Meriweather even understand the rules of a wrestling match?
Susie: I think he might have a limited grasp…enough to get the gist at least.
Dollar: That won’t hack it when your expected to call a match as an official.
Al continues to make the count, reaching four when Nathan breaks the bridge and rolls to his knees, burning a hole into the referee with his gaze.
Al: A SPLENDID ATTEMPT GOOD SIR.
Nathan: Your supposed to count to three dammit!
He slaps his palms together but Al is not grasping the complexities of his job functions.
Al: OH…I AM QUITE AWARE OF MY RESPONSIBILITIES CHAP…I LEARNED QUITE A BIT FROM WATCHING MY ASSOCIATES THIS EVENING….
From his pocket a balloon is withdrawn.
Al: PLEASE FASHION THIS INTO THE LIKENESS OF A ZEBRA WOULD YOU?
Creed returns his focus back to Gary who is employing the ropes to reach his feet, slapping his shoulder several times in the process to work out the kinks. Nathan takes him by the wrist of that very arm, and uses it to turn Gary around. He then stretches the arm out over his shoulder and is about to pull him down bicep first against said shoulder only to have Gary suddenly twist his body around, catching Nathan around the neck then dropping down into the appropriately titled…The Gallows.
A smile etches across Brooklyn’s face as she steps a little closer to the ring, watching and learning from Matt…learning the art of perseverance and patience.
Dollar: Matt with a reverse neck breaker which might alter the momentum of this match.
Susie: Might…I dare say it did….that’s right…I dared.
Dollar: How bold of you…
Susie: Boldness is my middle name, Johnny.
Dollar: Really?
Susie: Actually I don’t know my middle name…I’d like to think it’s Q’bert.
Gary ascends to his feet a little slower, suffering the wear and tear of the wrestling clinic he’s been exposed to thus far. He then steps up behind a kneeling Nathan and drills him to the skull with a forearm strike, actually employing his targeted arm to deliver the move. Another elbow and another elbow connects before Matt steps in and throws a boot at Creed’s skull. Nathan pulls his back and shoves the boot along. He then leaps to his feet behind Matt and wraps around his waist, on the verge of delivering yet another German suplex.
But Matt loses his patience and his composure, throwing a back elbow to the eye. It connects with force but Creed still won’t break the waist lock, forcing Matt to employ a different method to escape. He rushes forward, dragging Creed along with him into the ropes and then dropping down right in front of them. The momentum sends Nathan sailing over his back and through the cables to the outside of the ring.
Creed lands on his feet across the mats and then Al immediately darts to the outside himself, grabbing Nathan by the tights, leading him up to his feet and throwing him back into the squared circle. He literally gives himself a pat on the back.
Al: THERE SHALL BE NO SUCH ANTICS BEYOND THE BOUNDS OF THE ROPES! I WILL DISQUALIFY ANYONE WHO WRESTLES OUTSIDE OF THE RING…UNDERSTOOD!
Dollar: Al going really…really old school. I guess his limited knowledge of professional wrestling extends only to the fifties era of the grappling arts.
Susie: Back when everyone was in black and white…or I guess…in just white?
Dollar: Precisely.
Creed turns around and shouts at Al, leaving his back exposed to Matt, who steps in behind him and catches Nathan by the jaw. He is just about to drop into yet another reverse neck breaker when Nathan spins around, catches the arm and uses it to drag his opponent down into the fujiwara. But Matt gets his knees under him, putting them to the canvas and keeping his upper body elevated off of the canvas. Nathan keeps holding onto the arm though, trying to apply the fujiwara.
When it becomes apparent that he will NOT get the submission locked in, he settles for establishing the hammerlock then leaping over Gary’s back, catching him around the far shoulder and dragging him down into the arm trap somersault cradle.
Al slides into the ring and removes a small sheet of paper, sliding it between the shoulders of Gary and the canvas, ensuring there isn’t an inch of separation between the two. Once he ensures the pin is totally copasetic he slips a latex glove over his palm and steps around behind Creed, whispering into his ear.
Al: SO THIS IS THE PART WHERE YOU DROP YOUR PANTALOONS AND I SEARCH YE BUM FOR HIDDEN WEAPONS…?
Nathan: Just fall to the canvas and make the fucking count you blithering loon!
Al: AHHH BULLY….WHAT A SPLENDID NOTION. I SHALL GIVE IT THE OLE’ COLLEGE TRY, CHUM.
He falls to the canvas and proceeds with the three, but stops in between each count to lift a finger into the air, mimicking the precise way that Silence counted in the previous match.
1
Matt had more than enough time to recover and kick out, Nathan losing the element of shock, but not losing his focus as both men race to their feet. Nathan instantly meets Gary with a kick to the shoulder, putting him to his back as he grinds his teeth from the trauma flowing through his arm. Nathan then twists into the turnbuckle and begins to scale it, getting up about half way when his leg is snatched hold of by the misinformed official.
Al: NO…NO…CHUM…PLEASE DO NOT MAKE ME DRAW YOUR IRE BY DISQUALIFYING YOU FOR GOING TO THE AIR! NO TOP ROPE DIVES ARE PERMISSABLE!
Nathan: Their totally legal.
Al: ARE THEY NOW? WONDROUS!
He releases the ankle but a moment too late, because Al has unintentionally given Matt just enough time to recover, swoop in behind Creed, hook both his arms while he’s standing on the middle rope and then dragging him down into the full nelson slam. The Brain Damage connects and Nathan is left completely incapacitated.
Dollar: That’s the BRAIN DAMAGE…we saw Gary hit that last week when he and Brooklyn invaded the ring during our main event….Surprised he could deliver it with his arm in the shame its in.
Gary shakes his arm several times out to his side, trying to work out the kinks before he falls across Nathan’s chest and uses his one good limb to hook Creed’s knee. Al…who now has a firm grasp on what to do in this predicament…falls to the ring…slaps it for the…
1
2
and the three….The Maniac picking up a win in his very first match on Riot….resulting to much in the way of mixed reactions…though Brooklyn’s is particularly positive, clapping for her cousin.
Dollar: And Matt does it….the Maniac picking up the win with the Brain Damage….impeded by his arm but not enough to keep him from delivering that dangerous full nelson.
Creed begins to recover, holding the back of his neck while the Maniac crawls into the ropes which Brooklyn is standing on the opposite side of. She now begins to fan Matt off with a towel retrieved from the doctor stationary at ringside. Sluggishly Creed turns onto his side and eyeballs the celebrating Matt, while mouthing words that probably should never be heard in the company of impressionable children.
Dollar: Matt wins…but has his victory here tonight earned him and the new crop of talents here in the IWC respect from the established order?
Susie: I think the only one who earned respect out here tonight was Al Todd-Meriweather, who proudly represented the officiating staff.
Dollar: If said officiating staff were straight out of the 1950’s.
Chase: This night has been terrible…TERRIBLE….It couldn’t be any worse if Silence were permitted to sing your entrance lyrics, Gavin.
Taylor doesn’t want to hear…not Silence singing…or Adam bitching. He just wants the night to be over, evident as he removes his elbow pads and throws them into his gym bag. Hands then move to his face, fingers slowly dragging down his skin and pulling his lower lip nearly from his face. Even this demonstration of annoyance doesn’t clue Adam in as he paces back and forth through the locker-room before a seated and clearly disgruntled Taylor.
Chase: What was that, Gavin?
Gestures are made towards the ring…but Gavin doesn’t follow the direction of his Agent’s hand….he instead looks straight up into his face. …giving him a stare that could turn a man’s penis into an instant vagina.
Chase: You should be sitting here right now with the Evolution Championship belt over one shoulder…and the World Title over the other shoulder…Instead your sitting here with another loss to your name. Newslfash Gavin…ALL STARS don’t lose….
Gavin trembles…employing every bit of self control to keep his lip behind clinched teeth.
Chase: And let’s not forget that you didn’t just let me down…you didn’t just let yourself down…but you let my NIECE down…your SISTER IN LAW down….who’s gonna protect Tay-Tay now…who?
The end of Gavin’s patience has been reached, prompting him to lunge from his bench and get straight into his agent’s face. Adam is not flinching….is not backing down…staring right back into the fiery eyes of his client.
Gavin: ADAM!
Suddenly all the intensity vanishes the moment a giant smile sweeps over Gavin’s face. He then reaches out and fixes the collar of his Agent’s jacket.
Gavin: Relax….You’ll be reminded why I am an all star by the end of the night.
He picks a hair off of Adams’ shoulder and flicks it away.
Orlando: SIMON! SIMON WHERE ARE YOU!?!
Through the corridor storms the Icon…looking so fired up he’s about to burst a blood vessel…actually one might have already been burst in his eye thanks to the Go to Sleep from Hurse. In spite of his retinal damage, Cruze keeps an attentive eye out for Simon, looking far down the hall for the man holding the World Heavyweight Championship.
Orlando: Come on Simon…God dammit…come out and talk to me! Talk to me like a man!!
All the work…all the effort Orlando has put into redeeming himself in the eyes of the roster…and more importantly…Cagero is about to be thrown out the window once his path inevitably crosses with the current holder of the stolen title belt. But that encounter never comes thanks to the unexpected spear connecting with his ribs, lifting Orlando nearly off of his feet and powering him spine first into the wall.
Orlando connects with it and Christian is leaning forward shoulder first into his ribcage, pinning him against the concrete and throwing repeated right hands into his mid-section. Orlando connects with clubbing blow after clubbing blow over Savior’s spine, trying to fight back in spite of being caught completely off guard.
The war a long time in the making doesn’t last for long as the enflamed passions of Christian and Orlando are doused the moment that security comes rushing into the fray. Many rabbles and other such generic sentiments are shouted by the guards, who forcefully pry Christian back away from Orlando. The Icon…losing any sense of composure, swings his fists into some of the guards faces, throwing them out of his way and rushing back at Savior.
Christian nails one guard to the knee and then rushes in and cuts off Orlando, the two exchanging right hands all over again. Savior uses Orlando’s own momentum to push him along into the catering table, almost knocking it over. Christian is on top of him with rights and right and rights until he is once again pulled away by security.
Savior fights valiantly against them but he’s still suffering the ill effects of that super kick and now has every limb detained. Orlando is equally as overcome by security, oozing out of the woodworks in droves to establish a grip on the Icon.
Dollar: Christian DETERMINED to make good on that challenge he made to Orlando Cruze moments ago. He wants the Icon…and he wants him right here tonight….come hell…high water or any other force on the planet.
Susie: Shouldn’t he be saving his energy to get revenge on behalf of his wife tonight against Tay-Tay?
Dollar: You know what….that just…that just….
Though Cruze should be in a total rage right now…an actual smile starts to form on his face as he watches Christian TRY to get at him…realizing that in a very round about way…he’s protecting Taylor tonight by getting Christian so worked up he exhausts himself before the main event this evening.
Orlando: You want your hands on me tonight, Christian…we still got time…I can kick your ass right alongside Frankie and Harrison if that’s what you want.
Savior: I don’t want a match against you, Lando…I NEED IT!
Orlando: Then that’s just what you’ll get.
Savior and Orlando burst from the security and rush at one another, once again exchanging shots between each other’s faces to a rousing ovation from the crowd.
Dollar: It’s just like I said…nothing will keep these two apart…NOTHING!
The show segues to commercial on the two brawling amongst one another with security desperately trying to intervene.
Tay-Tay sits in a chair backstage with her fingers rubbing her temples in slow, concentric circles, doing her best to fight the pounding migraine swelling her brain to the point where she’s about to reenact the exploding head scene from Scanners.
Bob: Ninety nine Mnooses in Bob’s Parsley Patch…Ninety nine Mnooses…give one Mnoose a ham…watch Mnoose pass it around…Ninety eight Mnooses in Bob’s Parsley Patch.
Tay-Tay: I swear to God I can’t take much more of this.
Bob keeps singing to the total and utter delight of no one but himself…
Bob: Ninety eight Mnooses in Bob’s Parsley Patch…Ninety eight Mnooses…give one Mnoose a ham…watch Mnoose pass it around…Ninety seven Mnooses in Bob’s Parsley Patch.
Tay-Tay: ENOUGH!
The World Champion shoots out of her chair and then back kicks, sending her seat flying through the air into the wall at the shackled Bob’s side. He looks down at the steel and then up into the angered face glaring down at him.
Bob: Hmmmm…Bob lose count….Bob will start from the beginning to serenade pretty woman with such nice clothes.
The singing picks up not exactly where Bob had left off…but with that same cheeriness and aloofness to Taylor’s distress.
Bob: 3,599 Mnooses in Bob’s Parsley Patch….3,599 Mnooses…give Mnoose a ham….watch Mnoose pass it around….3,598 Mnooses in Bob’s Parsley Patch…
A deep breath is taken by Taylor…..realizing her captive is proving to be more a nuisance than a help. She then looks up just as the door to her closely guarded undisclosed location opens and Frankie Paradise comes staggering in. That same title belt is still glued to his waist…but there have been some slight alterations made. Duct tape covers the word ‘sucker,’ so now the championship reads ‘World Champion Cock…’ And some electrical tape has been added to form an arrow pointing down directly to Frankie’s lower extremities. Tay-Tay goes to question Frankie regarding the newest piece of his attire but stops…realizing that the fact that Frankie is Frankie, answers her question before it even need be asked.
Frankie: Sweet Cheeks…..how ya been.
Tay-Tay: Oh thank God…
Hands fall on Frankie’s shoulders, causing him to get positively frisky…feeling twinges in many areas of his body…most of which south of the waistband.
Tay-Tay: Please tell me everything is set…PLEASE! I can’t take much more of this.
A finger points in the direction of the still ‘serenading’ Bob.
Frankie: Weeeellll….kinda….and kinda not.
This is not what Taylor wants to hear….actually she’s heard way too many things she didn’t want to listen to….including the singing voice of the ham chomping behemoth.
Tay-Tay: NO….tell me everything is set….That’s ALL I want to hear!.
Frankie: I wish I could….
Tay-Tay: Tell me everything is SET God dammit!
Frankie: Relax…relax…take it easy peezy…everything would be totally copasetic if it weren’t for some last second twists thrown into our little game-plan by your boyfriend.
To this tidbit of information Taylor has an even worse reaction. She cups her palm around her elbow and rubs at the flesh between her eyes.
Tay-Tay: Now what did Orlando do?
Frankie: You didn’t hear?
Tay-Tay: No….my phone signal is terrible in this room you found…I’m not getting any bars at all.
She stares at her I-Phone with a perturbed expression…desperate to respond to a few crucial tweets.
Frankie: How unfortunate…
He hides his smile behind his palm.
Frankie: Just so happens I got some footage you need to see.
The camcorder feature on Frankie’s phone is employed with the screen held up for Tay-Tay to get a good view of it. The footage features Frankie filming from just behind the curtains as Orlando stands in the ring standing over Rose with a cane in his hand DEMANDING to have the World Title belt in his possession. Clearly Frankie is not about to put this into the proper context for the agitated Champion.
Frankie: Ya’see? This is exactly why I’m teaming with Harrison tonight to get rid of this guy. He went and fucked all your plans straight up the corn hole.
Tay-Tay: He’s got to have some kind of reason for this.
Frankie:Yeah…it’s called feeding his own ego at your expense.
Tay-Tay: You’re hardly one to talk about ego.
A gesture is made to the belt wrapped….GLUED to his mid-section.
Frankie: Erm yeah…long story…but let’s not stray from the point here…
Tay-Tay: The point being?
Frankie: That Orlando is trying to steal the World Title from you AGAIN! Thinking you’d never find out because he knew you were sequestered to an area where you couldn’t possibly get a feed of the show.
Tay-Tay: How would he know that?
Frankie’s eyes shift nervously.
Frankie: Come on….you told him where you’d be….and he WAS the friggin President…
Tay-Tay: No…he still IS the Champion.
Frankie: Splitting hairs here…and Orlando has no hairs to spit…Anyway,, he knows everything about our home base of operations…he knew there was poor signal strength in this area of the Manhattan Center…he had too.
Tay-Tay: I suppose you’ve got a point there…but listen…I’m not about to believe anything you or anyone else tells me until I talk to Orlando myself. I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt…especially after everything I heard last week.
There is quite a bit of disappointment evident in the face of Frankie as he lowers his phone…hearing something HE did not want to hear….
Frankie: That’s a shame…cause the guy is clearly using her for his own gain…AND…he’s not going to survive the night.
Tay-Tay sighs…caught in a triangle…when she wished everything would just go full circle already with her being back in Orlando‘s arms, holding the World Title with Frankie loyal lapping from his dog bowl…if only she could have the best of all worlds…..if only…but she was not Mile Cyrus…actually…Miley Cyrus wasn‘t even Miley Cyrus even more. .
Frankie: If you won’t do anything about him, I will….because unlike Orlando…I care about your well being. I’m eliminating him tonight…then, the moment Harrison drops his guard, I’m eliminating him too…and then, who knows, maybe I’ll eliminate the entire cast of Boy Meets World for never responding to a single one of my fan letters! I’ll eliminate everyone…..everyone who has ever wronged us….
Tay-Tay: And how pray tell are you going to accomplish all of this?
Frankie: You don’t have to give me the benefit of the doubt…
Hair is brushed back behind her ear and for once Frankie doesn’t worry about having a rape whistle blown in his face.
Frankie: Because you can trust me 110%. I only do what’s best by you. I live to hear the words ‘I DID IT.’
Tay-Tay’s tough exterior is weakened when coming into contact with Frankie’s soothing touch.
Frankie: Now why don’t you let me take Bob off your hands?
Tay-Tay: Oh thank God…I‘d kiss you if your breath didn‘t reek of garlic…..
Frankie: Sorry…Mom made spaghetti before the show tonight….was totally trying to get me loaded up on carbs. But yeah, I’ll go out and make the exchange….cause we don‘t want to risk you getting hurt…no telling what Rose or Christian or Cagero might have planned…I know the room has got to be getting claustrophobic…but at least right here I know your safe.
Tay-Tay: Fine…I suppose I can hang out here a little bit longer….but the odor from Bob’s pits has got the room reeking.
Frankie: I’ll bring in some Febreeze later. Just hang out here and let me handle it all….
Frankie is already dragging Bob up to his feet by the chain wrapped around his neck…leading him around like he were on a leash.
Tay-Tay: Frankie….I appreciate this….
Its his tough façade that shatters by way of Taylor’s touch, her hand sliding around the back of his head. For once he feels a woman’s touch without the backlash of burning eyes form pepper spray.
Tay-Tay: But don’t fuck this up!
She open palm slaps him to the forehead.
Ambulance lights are flashing throughout the building as the vehicle that has already dispatched two members of the Black Crusade is parked just off to the side of the stage. Al Todd-Meriweather paces tepidly back and forth across the ring, watching with wide eyes as Lukas Montgomery and Mika Kozlov approach the ring.
Dollar: Back live on Riot! And as you can see, during the commercial break that same ambulance pulled out and cut Al Todd-Meriweather off right as he was in the process of leaving the ring. The Blacklist about to add another member of the Black Crusade to their hit-list.
Susie: I wonder what Mr. Hush and Silence are doing in the back of that ambulance to pass the time. I bet it charades, something tells me that Mr. Hush would make a fantastic charades player.
Dollar: I doubt either individual is making fun….and Al is about to find out just how much misery his cohorts have been enduring.
Susie: I think Al already knows…doesn’t he possess the ability to all but read Mr. Hush’s mind? I’m sure he knows exactly what he’s in store for.
Al…though no master of the professional wrestling….elevates clinched fists into the air, ready to employ them against the Blacklist if necessary. Mika and Montgomery slide into the ring and instantly pounce upon Meriweather, who attempts unsuccessfully to defend himself against this onslaught. They bring him down to his knees without even throwing a single punch or kick, just grabbing him the collar of his shirt and forcing him into one of the turnbuckles. They then pin his arms down to his side as Mika grabs him around the jaw and squeezes, holding up on his face so that the good natured British bloke can look up into her eyes.
Mika: He has such a silver tongue…Lukie…maybe we should remove it to see what it looks like.
Montgomery: I’ve got a better idea for Mr. Meriweather here.
He turns and snaps his fingers for a microphone before realizing that Jessica Wilde is no longer at ringside. In annoyance he leaves Mika to keep Al kneeling while he rolls to the outside, approaches the chair Jessica is supposed to be occupying and grabs the microphone off of it.
Montgomery: Kathryn….ohhhh Kathryn….My darlin’!
Into the ring Lukas rolls, getting to his knees and resting upon them as he glares up the ramp, staring past the curtains right into the watching eyes of Kathryn Pearson and Yvonne Knight.
Montgomery: Did you and your little gal-pal, Ivy…think your night was over? The Blacklist…we think not…
Mika smiles while prying apart Al’s lips and teeth to thoroughly examine the tongue.
Montgomery: Seeing as we’ve already managed to steal your number one contendership for the X-Class Championship away from you, Kathryn….why don’t we go ahead and take another of your accolades? Come on out here, march your spunky little ass to this ring and we’ll gladly relieve you of those tag team titles.
The fans are stunned that yet ANOTHER tag team title challenge has been made by the Blacklist at this point.
Montgomery: Come on…..Kathryn…you know you want so badly to come out here and get some retribution on us for leaving you laying earlier tonight….And you and Yvonne…you want to prove you deserve those championships don’t you? That you’re win tonight wasn’t just some fluke? Then come on out and beat the unbeatable…beat the unstoppable…beat the merciless Blacklist.
Mika: And Al…pudding pie…
She pushes shut his jaw and pinches his lips together.
Mika: If you want to keep your tongue…I’d suggest you call this next match fair and square…understood?
Al just gives her a dead stare, no reaction of any kind, for once keeping his tongue behind clinched teeth.
Dollar: Is everyone determined to just throw a total screwball into my title ambitions at the pay-per-view? If Unity accepts this title bout…there’s no way they’ll retain the gold after already competing twice tonight. Meaning I might not get my tag title opportunity after-all.
Susie: Then why not do something about it?
Dollar: Are you suggesting I go after the Blacklist? Because I actually value having my heart still in my chest.
Susie: As if you have a heart.
Dollar: Good point. But still…I think I’m quite content just sitting here pissing and moaning as opposed to actually doing anything to stop this.
The Blacklist continues to glare in the direction of the entry way as Mika places a side headlock on Al, giving him a tussling his hair in the process. They wait for the arrival of Unity but when it becomes apparent that neither lady is on their way to the ring their moods sour.
Montgomery: You too aren’t doing yourselves any favors hiding out back there…don’t think we won’t drive that ambulance to the back and track your tone asses down….
Lohan: Sorry Lukie….
Before they realize what their doing…the fans find themselves CHEERING for Brittany Lohan…A welt may have formed on the side of her face and her eye is a bit puffy…but these are just cosmetic injuries…nothing that will keep her from getting revenge.
Dollar: This is really bad for the Blacklist. I think they were under the impression that they had taken out Lohan via that disgusting attack backstage….but they didn’t do nearly enough damage to keep her down.
Susie: Blame the shoulders….Johnny…the mighty man shoulders.
Brittany…in spite of her vows of total emotional detachment…actually shows some fire in her eyes and intensity in her expression.
Lohan: But it seems you skipped that last class with Mary Mallory…you know…the woman who trained all of us….cause otherwise you would have been taught never…NEVER to leave your victim capable of drawing breathes….
She smiles in spite of that rare feeling of anger.
Lohan: I applaud your efforts…you two certainly caught me off guard in the back…and I definitely don’t take it personally. I understand…you were trying to weaken me before Upping the Ante…you were trying to cripple me. But you failed…just like the two of you will fail at the pay-per-view. And the only reason I’m coming out here now to ruin your plans for the tag team titles…much like you ruined my own….is because the two of you need that final lesson….You need to see what happens when you fail to follow through and finish what you’ve started.
Down the ramp rushes Lohan, just sliding in when Montgomery pounces upon her only to have the creases of his knees snatched hold of and his legs torn out from under him. To the canvas he collapses with Lohan on top, forearm after forearm after forearm crashing into his face.
Dollar: Lohan going right after the Blacklist….without fear…without hesitation…this woman is totally NUTS!
Susie: Thank God it’s a Phys ED lesson she’s teaching, because if it had anything to do with math, or chemistry…good lord I’d have a nose bleed right now.
Forearms continue to drill the face of Montgomery before Mika charges up beside Brittany and clocks her to the side of the skull with a front dropkick. Lohan is knocked across the ring, rolling into the ropes. Her head is splitting from being slammed by the car door, but she is still reaching her feet. That’s when Kozlov rolls Lukas to his elbows and knees then rushes up beside him, stepping off her back and launching herself at the prone Brittany.
Lohan suddenly steps away from the ropes, reaches out and catches Mika with both hands, countering into a gorilla press. A stunned Kozlov kicks her legs and flails her arms, trying to slip off the palms of her adversary. At that exact moment Lukas gets to his feet only to be sent right back down…and devastatingly so when Mika is thrown into his chest like she were a projectile weapon. She crashes right into Lukas’ sternum and the two go flipping over the top rope to the outside mats.
Dollar: And she’s done it…Jesus Christ Lohan has done it…she’s just taken out two members of the Blacklist…the two who assaulted her earlier tonight…the two that she’ll face at Upping the Ante. Thank you, Brittany, by the way, for ruining the Blacklist’s tag title opportunity and vicariously saving my own shot at the belts at the pay-per-view.
There is surprisingly a huge amount of fanfare for the maniacal Lohan, who went from prey to predator, victimizing the Blacklist….but she’s not through yet….nope…she’s got a much harsher lesson in mind for the two. She is just about to approach them when she spots something out of the corner of her eye…something that makes her stop and her lip to quiver. She turns to ascertain a better view of the figure standing front row center…that figure being Alana Star.
Susie: Why is Brittany looking at that pretty lady in the front row?
Dollar: I vaguely recognize this woman…that’s Alana Star….and from what I’ve gathered through my many months of scouting talent as potential clients…Alana and Lohan have quite a history.
Susie: A good history? Like they attended pajama parties together?
Dollar: Good God, no.
Lohan twists her head and smiles at the sight of the woman who’s career she tragically cut short….Alana now finding herself here in the IWC…attentively watching her actions within the center of the ring. Brittany seems amused that that’s all Star can do…watch. But all Lohan’s watching does is leave her back turned to the double super kick that connects with her skull, delivered by both members of the Blacklist.
Dollar: Lohan making a crucial mistake by taking her eyes off of the Blacklist.
Brittany twists to the canvas with a teetering Mika and Montgomery collecting themselves before they go back to work, putting boots to Lohan’s body. The kicking proceeds with Lohan seemingly having no defense…and no aide given the fact that Cassidy was taken out earlier in the night, and Tay-Tay has been sequestered to some undisclosed location…No…Lohan’s fate seems to be all but sealed…or….at least it would be if it weren’t for the influence of one P Clarence Whitman III.
The X-Class Champion spins Montgomery around and delivers a big right hand to his face.
Dollar: Whitman!?! WHITMAN? What the fuck…..seriously?
Susie: I guess he’s tired of the Blacklist burning all his stuff throughout the night, and is finally taking a stand.
Dollar: I think this has more to do with his meeting with Leeland Gaunt rather than anything else.
The right hand has Lukas swiping a hand across his lower lip and slowly retracting it from his face to see if there’s any blood. Once he confirms that there is no such crimson flowing from his fat lip…they curl into a smile upon turning towards Whitman.
The courage of the X-Class Champion is replaced by a look of unmitigated horror. He lowers his fists and then has the audacity to reach his pocket and remove a handkerchief.
Whitman: Excellent. Now that we’ve resolved our quarrel we can engage in some gentlemanly discussion…perhaps over a spot of brandy and a….
The grin on Lukas’ face implies that there has been no camaraderie reaches between the pair.
Whitman: Or perhaps it’s best I just flee.
He throws the handkerchief into Montgomery’s face, covering his eyes and then bolting from the ring. Lukas rips the clothe away and then rushes right after Clarence, diving through the ropes and going after the X-Class Champion.
Dollar: Montgomery chasing Whitman right out of the ring…we saw these two beat the hell out of each other at New Age last week…and now their picking up right where they left off.
Susie: Run Whitman run…this would be so much more dramatic if Whitman were wearing corrective leg braces that exploded at this point in totally improbable fashion.
Dollar: Agreed.
The curtains part way so that Whitman can race through them, Lukas nipping at his heels. In the meanwhile Mika is still putting the boots to Lohan and throwing wild forearms into the side of her face.
As the two femmes battle it out, Al wisely makes a discreet exit from the ring. The brawl is viewed from the safety of the ramp, which he tentatively backs up.
Al: MERCIFUL HEAVENS….SUCH VIOLENCE.
Mika turns and catches sight of Meriweather’s escape.
Al: THAT’S CORRECT YOU QUALLING HARPY….YOU SHALL HAVE TO AWAKE IN THE WEE EARLY MORNING HOURS ON BLOOMSDAY TO GET THE BEST OF AL TODD-MERIWEATH….
STATIC
There is nothing to fear but fear itself…
A dial on a very old standing radio with mahogany trim is turned by the fingers of Ba’al, kneeling before the speakers and leaning in close to hear the parables of FDR. The dial is then turned a little further, the station switching over.
It is to wage war, by sea, land and air, with all our might and with all the strength that God can give us; to wage war against a monstrous tyranny…
A snippet from one of Winston Churchill’s classic speeches is delivered before the radio switches over to yet another station airing yet another quote.
Give me blood and I will give you freedom…
The speeches end once Ba’al releases the knob and turns his head only enough for his penetrating eye to be caught by the camera.
Ba’al: Such flowery pros from men who knew how to use their words to twist perceptions….to change perspectives…to alter the world….But what is it you use…or to be more precise….WASTE…your speaking talents for? To be a conduit…a mere crier of the silly and asinine phrases of Mr. Hush? Quite pathetic…but I suppose….gleich und gleich geselt sich gern…so we shouldn’t be too surprised…disappointed yes…but not surprised. For your speaking talents…your loud and boisterous tone could be put to such better use. Mr. Meriweather….You’re inflated lungs and strong esophageal muscles could imbue fear through mere phrases….but alas…you opt instead to use your words for purposes of humor…for comedic effect….
The knob is twisted right off the old fashioned radio and thrown over the shoulder of Ba’al.
Ba’al: So now, Mr. Meriweather, you find yourself equally as deserving of the fates prescribed to your associates….
STATIC
Cameras are back and fixated upon the ramp where Al Todd Meriweather has backed into the chest of Ba’al…Ba’al in the flesh.
Dollar: Ba’al…Ba’al is here….here and in person.
Susie: I expected far more eye liner to be honest.
Dollar: And poor Al…he’s none the wiser.
Al doesn’t learn of the calamity until its too late, being spun around into the clutches of Ba’al who dispenses with any over the top notions of violence…deeming it far too grand a waste of time. Instead he simply snatches hold of Al’s neck, twists him around and rushes him towards the back doors of the ambulance, which have been propped open, revealing Mr. Hush strapped to the gurney and Silence shacked with her wrists behind her back. Al cannot bring a stop to his misfortune, being tossed right into the back of the ambulance before the doors are slammed shut, sealing him within. He then puts the chain back through the door handles and secures them in place with the padlock.
Dollar: And now Al Todd-Meriweather has been thrown into the back of the ambulance as well…this time by Ba’al himself. The Prince of Sin has at last made his arrival here on Riot!, and done so by taking out yet another member of the Black….wait…what is he…where is Ba’al….Someone stop him.
Instead of being behind Al, now Ba’al is behind the wheel of the ambulance, slamming shut the driver’s door and pulling the vehicle around the ramp to the backstage area.
Susie: Where is Ba’al taking them? Is Six Flags a possibility?
Dollar: I would assume not.
The ambulance lights are flashing throughout the Manhattan Center as the ambulance disappears through the curtains with Mr. Hush, Silence and Al Todd-Meriweather trapped in the back. The only lose end within the ring remains the fight between both Lohan and Kozlov that comes to a close when Brittany is able to wedge hands to Mika’s chest, shoving her back. Mika drops onto her back and then rolls over to her elbows and knees just as Lohan comes bolting towards her, about to deliver a big boot to her face. But Kozlov drops down and rolls out of the ring before she can be punished by Lohan.
The clinches fists of Brittany open, yearning so badly to wrap around the throat of Mika, especially as she watches the smile slowly forming across the face of the Blacklist member.
Lohan: This isn’t over just yet…not just yet.
The monitor flashes with imagery relating to the brutality and odd transgressions within the ring…where Brittany Lohan is left giving Mika Kozlov a look of burning intensity. Another person who gives Mika that good ole’ fashion STANK eye is Gary Matt…the Maniac….He stands back with his brow all furrowed and such…cause nothing says intense more than a furrowed brow…..Brooklyn’s brow isn’t nearly as intense, but she gives the screen quite the look too…a sideways glance in fact.
Brooklyn: Gary….</font
Gary: Hmmmm?
Brooklyn: Why are we still standing here?
Gary: Oh…we’re supposed to be elsewhere?
He glances at his watch.
Gary: Didn’t you just eat like two hours ago? Those hush puppies from Long John Silvers didn’t hold you over?
Brooklyn: This isn’t about food…for once….though I could so go for some good Thai right now. They would never let me have take-out during that whole hosta….well….let’s not go into that right now.
Gary: Mmmmkay.
Brooklyn: I’m wondering why oh why we haven’t raced through those curtains, down that ramp and caught Mika when she wasn’t looking…She’s all on her own…totally….and completely defenseless. This is our chance….
Gary: Oh my poor naive cousin….Mika is never defenseless….and the Blacklist are never truly on their own….We don’t just rush anything….understood? From this point forth, we meticulously plot how we’re going to handle the Blacklist…
Brooklyn: That doesn’t sound very fun.
Gary: It’s the job we were brought in to do…and we’re going to do it right…I don’t half-ass anything…especially when it brings me a little closer to the love of my life….
Brooklyn: You realize we’re not in Kentucky right?.
Gary: NOT YOU…
Brooklyn: I know who you’re talking about.
Gary: Orlando offered us contracts cause he knew we could be instrumental in purging this company of the Blacklist…since we all kind of operate on the same wavelength, what with being all nutters and such.
Brooklyn: GOD! She’s right there…RIGHT THERE!
Her finger jabs the television monitor positioned in that section of the locker-room.
Brooklyn: We could get her so easily.
Gary: No….just no…
He takes her finger and pulls it away from the television.
Gary: Strategy, Brook, strategy…Hasn’t Sun Tzu taught you anything?
Brooklyn: That you can rip a man’s spine out through his chest?
Gary: That’s Shang Tsung….Sun Tzu teaches us to know thy enemy….So we’re going to take our time truly getting to know the Blacklist just before we strike.
Brooklyn: UUUUGH…sounds so boring.
There’s no doubt about it…no doubt at all…Mika got off easy…evading the wrath of Brittany Lohan…something no logical…sane person would ever wish to incur. But instead of being wheeled backstage after her far too brief encounter with Lohan…Mika not only walks but almost skips….She steps right into the backstage area when…
Mark: Mrs. Kozlov.
The last thing that Comeau expected to see on Kozlov’s face was a smile…instead he imagined she’d be covered in bruises…welts…a few seeping wounds.
Mika: If it isn’t the man who’s breath reeks of whiskey…how are you, Mark.
Mark: Okay I guess…and you look surprisingly well….in particularly good spirits actually….all things considered.
Mika: And why shouldn’t I be? The Blacklist has once again been in total and complete control of the show. We’ve managed to take out all of Legion’s associates…ensuring he’ll stand alone at Upping the Ante when he faces us in that High Stakes tag. We managed to weaken Brittany to the point where she’s starting to let emotions cloud her judgment…and….AND…we’ve softened up Kathryn Pearson…Oh…and before I forget…I’m sure Lukie is making Whitman’s night very interesting. So yeah…I should be smiling…smiling wider than I am right not…cause the Blacklist has dominated….divided and destroy….
Mr. Gaunt: Mrs. Kozlov….you spunky little Russian git, you…
The boldness…..the audacity…the gall of Mr. Gaunt to not just interrupt Mika but to step right up into her face…it downright blows Kozlov away.
Mr. Gaunt: You certainly have enjoyed quite a splendid evening at the expense of the Black Crusade…
Mika: And it’s about to get far more entertaining for me….You just couldn’t stop playing with matches could you…?
Mr. Gaunt: Funny you should say that…
Mika:..NO…there’s nothing funny…nothing funny about what’s going to happen to you….
Mr. Gaunt: To me…poor hapless and defenseless Leeland Gaunt? The man who managed to evade your capture just last week while demonstrating his ability to make a seven foot monster submit twice in the span of five minutes? This is the man that YOU…a 95 pound girl…thinks she can stand here and intimidate?
Kozlov gets Mr. Gaunt’s point, realizing that he was harder to get hold of than water in one’s palm…and proved quite lethal when cornered.
Mika: You’re right…so I guess I shouldn’t just stand here idly threatening you…
A huge kick connects right to Mr. Gaunt’s knee, catching him quite unexpected. He collapses to the concrete and grabs at his leg in the process, cane falling into the clutches of Kozlov…the last person who should have custody of his potent weapon and all the little tricks hidden within. She quickly twists the handle and unsheathes the blade from Gaunt’s cane, lifting it into the air and watching it shimmer in the lights.
Mika: Beautiful…
Mr. Gaunt: Isn’t it though? A true masterpiece, no?
Mika: Absolutely…a work of art…almost seems a shame to stain it with your blood.
Mr. Gaunt is surprisingly docile as these statements…rather grim, gruesome and foreboding in nature….are made by a woman closing in upon him with the blade glimmering in her clutches.
Mr. Gaunt: You know what else I believe to be a work of modern art?
Mika: Like I would ca….
It takes a moment to notice that Leeland is pointing towards the ceiling…doing so rather subtly. Finally her eyes are drawn to the above….where an occult sigil has been drawn in blood red. To make matters even more distressing for Kozlov, she’s standing right beneath this cryptic insignia.
Mika: How cute….
She feels something dripping down her cheek, swiping her fingers across it to reveal blood gathered across her digits. Instinctively she glances up at the ceiling to make sure that the symbol isn’t leaking…it isn’t…it’s her eyes that dribble tears…tears of blood.
Mika: Wow…have to admit, Leeland…this is pretty cool…
Mr. Gaunt: You won’t be quite as thrilled in ooooh…about ten seconds?
Mika: And what happens in ten seconds?
Mr. Gaunt: Why ruin the surprise?
Mika: These little parlor tricks aren’t going to stop me from…
Suddenly she shuts up…not because Mr. Gaunt has put her in her place…No…it’s because she’s becoming violently sick to her stomach. She slowly bends forward, grabbing at her gut and almost falling over from the pain, luckily there’s a crate nearby to steady herself. She stands up just long enough to open her mouth and purge a long trail of maggots from her intestines to the floor.
When she thinks its over…she erupts with vomit once again, purging a solid stream of maggots into a huge puddle on the floor.
All the vomiting is taking the strength out of her body, causing her knees to buckle as she falls and drops the blade beside the cane where it was sheathed. That’s precisely where it returns. Leeland picks up the cane, slides his blade into it and then removes a clothe, swiping it against the maggot crawling up on his shoe. Every time Mika tries to reach out and grab him she is reduced to vomiting up another bucket of maggots.
Mr. Gaunt: I’ve heard of extreme dieting methods…but the intentional digestion of maggots is quite excessive, don’t you think?
Mika grabs hold of his pants leg but has no strength to keep her grip, every bit of her energy zapped by the continuous purging of maggots. Leeland easily pulls his leg away from Kozlov and keeps walking, leaving the Blacklist member in absolute misery.
Mika…Mika…Mika….
Around the corner now steps Brittany Lohan, moving through the curtains to the gorilla position to find Mika lying literally at her feet and totally at her mercy.
Brittany: Funny running into you here.
Hands ball up into fists.
The music in the background may be cheesy…may be melodramatic…may sound like the opening musical interlude to an Abba song….but it nevertheless adds a little hype to the images on the screen…all of which fixating upon Katelyn Buehler.
Katelyn: Did you think….did you think it would be that easy?
Buehler’s voice is heard between clips of her lifting weights, and doing some squats at the gym. It then cuts to her running on a treadmill, building up a healthy lather of sweat.
Katelyn: That you could get rid of Katelyn Buehler just like that?
A jump rope is used to further build some cardio vascular conditioning.
Katelyn: That I’d walk away with tears in my eyes….hiding under my sheets…sucking my thumb….giving up on my dreams….
Buehler is then featured running the ropes of a training ring before taking several self administered bumps. She tosses herself to the canvas hard on her back and then is shown flipping forward completely and slamming viciously against the canvas. A close up view of her grimacing face is provided.
Katelyn: I’m not walking away from this….I’m not giving up….I don’t care how long it takes….days…months…years even…..one day I will be ready….
Nathan Creed comes into view, the head trainer for the New Age. He stoops with both hands wedged to his knees, watching very closely as Katelyn ties up with Tiami Tyler in a test of strength. We see various clips from their sparring session, most of which involve Tiami getting the better of Katelyn, constantly keeping her grounded to the canvas.
Nathan: I’ll be honest….
The clips cut to Creed standing on the outside of a ring wearing his sweats with the word “New Age” stenciled across his chest. He looks back at the training ring where his students are busy plying their crafts.
Nathan:…Katelyn Buehler…she‘s got a long road ahead of her….
The back of his head is scratched as he tries to think up something nice to say.
Nathan:…She needs a ton of work….
The jump roping ends with an image of Katelyn tripping herself up and falling to her side, knocking a whole set of racked weights into a mirror, shattering them on impact. We then cut to a shot of her DESPERATELY trying to hold onto the handles of the treadmill as her legs turn to jelly and almost collapse out from under her. Again Buehler is shown being caught with an arm drag and immediately being placed in an Anaconda Vice by Tyler, prompting Katelyn to lift her free hand on the verge of tapping out. We’re back to Nathan, who seemingly is trying to sugar coat things.
Nathan: But you know what….Kateyln…she’s got heart….she’s got determination….She’s convinced that she CAN do this….And it’s that spunk….it’s that fire… that goes a very…very long way.
Instead of tapping out the camera zooms in on her open palm balling up into a tight fist, refusing to give up. Buehler’s words are heard yet again in the background.
Katelyn: You think I’ll rest…you think I’ll relax…you think I’ll give this up like I have so many things in the past? I’m not resting…I’m not relaxing…I’m not giving up until I hear the announcer make the statement, “And your new World Heavyweight Champion…Katelyn Buehler!”
The video ends just in time to catch P Clarence Whitman III darting…nay scrambling towards the ring with Lukas Montgomery right behind him.
Dollar: We’re back live…we’re back live….and Whitman is being pursued…pursued by the Blacklist! Lukas is right on the X-Class Champion’s heels.
Susie: Is he really that upset over just being given a little love tap on the cheek from Whitman?
Dollar: Incredibly so by the looks of it. I have no idea what Whitman was thinking when he attacked Lukas moments ago…He should know to just leave well enough alone….but apparently he wanted to pick up where the two left off at New Age.
Clarence rolls into the ring…where it might actually be safer…given all the little weapons…or at least things that can be turned into weapons lining the ringside area. Lukas makes use of one of these objects, picking up a steel chair from ringside. He then slides in under the ropes with weapon in hand when Whitman rushes in to try to cut him off. He grabs the other end of the chair, getting into a tug of war with Lukas over the chair.
Montgomery then pushes the steel towards Clarence, driving it right into the X-Class Champion’s ribs. Whitman then turns away from Montgomery, who stands up and swings the chair violently right between the shoulder blades of the man who embarrassed him on the last Riot!
Dollar: Montgomery has got Whitman, and he’s wearing him out with the steel chair….which is symbolic I suppose considering it’s the weapon both men kept beating the hell out of each other with at New Age.
Susie: Don’t people use chairs to sit anymore? Or is that a lost art-form?
Dollar: Since when has sitting been an art-form?
Susie: Apparently you’ve never seen me cross my legs.
Dollar: Mostly because I refuse to put my credit card information on-line.
Lukas opens up the chair and then pulls Whitman to his feet before whipping him into the ropes. Clarence ricochets off and comes back in at Lukas, who catches him via the drop toe hold. Whitman’s skull travels right into the steel, his face bouncing off and his body twisting into the canvas.
Montgomery then steps in and takes Whitman around the neck, leading him up to his feet albeit stooped over. A forearm is driven into Clarence’s skull…followed by a second shot…and then a third. The banged up head of Whitman is then placed in a front chancery as Lukas backs towards the ropes, about to DDT him directly onto the steel.
Just before this happens Whitman spins around out of the DDT predicament and raises his arms for a double axe handle only to have Montgomery catch him across the chest then snap back into a downward spiral. Whitman’s face bounces off of the steel and then he goes rolling across the canvas, perhaps seriously regretting standing up to Lukas a few moments ago.
Lukas then picks up the chair, turns it long ways and waits for Whitman to get up, intent on doing some more damage with it.
Dollar: Montgomery on the verge of caving in Whitman’s spleen with the steel chair. He’s intent on indulging his more masochistic impulses.
Susie: By the time this ends, Whitman may end up looking more squished than Owen Wilson’s nose, or more swollen that Steven Segal’s bloated belly.
Whitman has crawled into one of the turnbuckles, employing it to reach his feet while his legs repeatedly want to cut out from under him. In rushes Montgomery, swinging chair at spine before Whitman clears out of the way. He drops into a roll under the chair, which connects with the corner. Lukas then turns and lifts the chair above his head, driving it down at the laid out Whitman, who rolls out of the way. Montgomery follows, flinging the chair down at Whitman’s back over and over again only to have him keep rolling out of the way.
Suddenly he changes his strategy though, rolling towards instead of away from Lukas, sliding right through the legs of his adversary. Montgomery bends forward and slams the chair into the canvas, missing Whitman entirely but putting him in a stooped forward position, making it possible…nay…easy for Clarence to leap to his side, grab him by the arm and force him down to the canvas into the crossface.
P. Clarence tries to interlock his hands around Lukas’ jaw and successfully does so, prying back on the neck and applying the submission to a loud reception from the crowd.
Dollar: Whitman’s got the crossface…he’s got the crossface…but there’s no referee…actually…..is this even a sanctioned match at this point? These two were scheduled to face off tonight, but it’s not like there’s any referees left to officiate what with the Black Crusade mostly taken out.
Whitman continues to wrench back on the jaw repeatedly, trying his best to earn another tap out…employing the same submission he did at Awakening to secure the X-Class Championship. Montgomery isn’t having any of this, reaching up and grabbing at the interlocked fingers before then rolling towards Whitman. Both men roll over backwards and Clarence is forced to break the submission, Montgomery grabbing his opponent’s legs. He then drops back, catapulting Whitman through the air and sending him flying into the nearest turnbuckle, which he surprisingly lands upon feet first. He then turns around just as Lukas begins to reach his feet.
The moment Montgomery stands, Whitman prepares to dive off the turnbuckle before rethinking his strategy. He steps down to the bottom rope, quite fearful of heights, so he stands on the lowest point possible, leaping out of the corner into a big clothesline that connects. Montgomery and Whitman hit the ring and again are both rolling across it as they dash to their feet.
Lukas is headstrong as ever, charging at Whitman to hit his own clothesline only to have Clarence duck. He then bobs and weaves behind Lukas, who spins around and eats a right hand, then a left, then a right, then a left. Clarence does some fancy foot work while swinging his fist out to his side, drawing attention to it before he employs the arm dangling at his side to nail a couple vicious quick jabs to the jaw. He then throws the hand swinging like a windmill out o his side, at Montgomery’s face.
Lukas ducks the inbound blow and catches Whitman around the neck and then hooks the leg. He snaps back into a release overhead t-bone suplex, planting him across the canvas.
Dollar: Whitman jumping and jiving but then t-boning….
Susie: Sounds like a kinky Kama Sumtra sex position.
The impact with the canvas causes Whitman to sit up, looking absolutely spent after being dumped so hard across his back. Montgomery could step back in and continue delivering a series of blows on his opponent, but instead he opts for just one knock out shot, aided by the steel chair. He picks it up and approaches the seated Whitman, rearing back with the steel when Clarence falls back and extends his legs into the air. He wraps them around Lukas’ waist and drags him down into the forward roll, ending up seated on the chest of Lukas while holding down the back of his knees.
But there is no referee…no official left to make the count…Whitman breaks the submission as a result and rolls over backwards, ending up kneeling above the chair.
Dollar: Whitman might have had the win there if it wasn’t for the lack of a referee.
The aggressive Montgomery rushes towards Whitman, who goes against his better judgment by picking up the chair and driving the top edge right into Lukas’ ribs, doubling him over.
It pains Whitman to do it, as it disobeys his stance on gentlemanly, good natured competition, but he stands up, lifts the chair above his head and brings down over the back of Montgomery. He then drives the chair into Lukas’ back again…..and again. Lukas turns in a full circle, lower back arched before he finally spins to face Whitman, who hauls back with the steel and throws it with all his strength straight into the face of Montgomery.
Lukas goes spilling through the ropes to the outside of the ring, landing on the apron and hooking his arm around the middle cable. He slowly starts to stand up when Whitman slips through the cables in front of him with the chair then lifts it above his head before rushing forward. Suddenly Montgomery turns and catches Clarence coming in against his shoulders, heaving him up into position for the death valley driver.
The fans are cringing as they anticipate the DVD right across the apron, which would presumably shatter every bone in Whitman’s body. That is if he hadn’t slipped off said shoulders, over the ropes back into the ring where he drops to his seat and connects with a reverse neck breaker. The back of Lukas’ head snaps off the top rope, causing him to stand up straight with a very disorientated expression on his face.
Dollar: I have to say that Whitman seems to be getting better and better each week we see him in this ring…He’s getting more aggressive…he’s learning new techniques…we’re seeing his evolution right before our very eyes.
Susie: I don’t believe in evolution.
Dollar: A bible thumper, huh?
Susie: No. I like to think we all came out of the same parsley patch the mnooses were born in.
Whitman slides through the ropes to the apron behind Montgomery and then charges forward, catching him with a front dropkick to the posterior. The kick sends Lukas charging into the nearest turnbuckle, about to bash his skull against the post only to catch it. He swings around the post and ends up standing on the apron running perpendicular to the one that Whitman lurks upon.
Clarence takes off across the apron and is about to deliver a big move presumably when Montgomery leaps over the ropes into a big shoulder block, falling into the ring but at the same time nailing the X-Class Champion. Whitman almost goes flipping completely over backwards as he plummets to the outside mats.
Dollar: Now we’ll have to see how well Whitman handles such punishment…he’s already taken quite a bit of it during this confrontation.
Methodically Montgomery rolls to the outside of the ring, descending upon Clarence…the X-Class Champion looking like damaged goods at this point. Eventually he employs the apron to begin reaching his feet when Montgomery, still adorned in his street attire, reaches down and grabs his belt, sliding it out of the notches and extending it across his palms. He then swings the belt into Whitman’s back, causing him to shriek in pain.
The leather strap slaps the upper back of Whitman once again, presumably leaving red slashes across the back of Clarence…his black t-shirt offering very little in the way of protection. The belt is then placed across Whitman’s throat, Lukas rearing back and choking the life out of the man who pinned him on the last edition of Riot!, who threatened to derail all of his momentum.
The very life seems to be extracted from Whitman’s body, bringing him to the cusp of asphyxiation before being released a second before he can succumb to unconsciousness. The belt buckle is then taken and wrapped around Lukas’ fist, then used as a form of brass knuckles to Clarence’s face. He punches him over and over and over again, until Whitman is about to collapse to the mats and fade…nope…Lukas isn’t about to let him faint….to block out the pain…he’s forcing Clarence to embrace his agony rather he likes it or not.
Whitman is dragged to his feet, has a shoulder wedged to his stomach and he now powers him spine first into the exposed turnbuckle post. Clarence is driven into the steel and HARD, almost incapacitating him on impact, yet Lukas holds him under the jaw and keeps him wedged against the steel…his head propped against it in particular.
With his opponent in position. Montgomery steps back, slaps his forearm and then rushes forward, spinning into the roaring elbow…the Quieter connecting again…with the exposed turnbuckle post. Out of the way Whitman dives at the last second, causing Lukas’ forearm to smash against steel, possibly fracturing every bone in his limb.
Dollar: The Quieter…into the turnbuckle post…that was positively gruesome!
A quick thinking Whitman crawls away from Lukas, using this opportunity to recover and finding his way into the steel steps. He grabs hold of them and starts to stand up when Lukas shakes off the impact with the turnbuckle and comes rushing up behind him. He throws another forearm only to have Whitman turn around at the last second and dive out of the way, causing Lukas to rush shoulder and elbow first into the steel stairs, which barely budge.
Dollar: No luck at all for Montgomery.
Susie: He needs a good luck charm…just not a rabbit’s foot….far too many rabbits in need of prosthetic limbs as it is.
The second connection of forearm to steel leaves Montgomery doubling over his arm and rolling into the ring…now it’s he who is trying to put some space between himself and his opponent….but Clarence closes the gap. He slides into the ring behind Lukas, leaps to his side, grabs his arm and applies the crossface to a borderline heart stopping pop from the crowd.
Dollar: Whitman’s got the crossface…he’s got the crossface applied on that very arm that was banged up by way of multiple impacts with the post and the steps….As if pinning Montgomery last week wasn’t bad enough on Lukas…now he’s gonna make him tap out.
Susie: So many taps, and so little break dancing.
Dollar: Again with all this break dancing brouhaha…enough about it already.
Susie: I live to break dance dammit…I’m even sporting a pink headband at the moment…mostly to hide the huge bandage from hurting myself when I tried to do a head slide and ended up crashing into the refrigerator.
Hands slap the barricades and feet stomp at the sight of Whitman wrenching back on the jaw and the arm repeatedly….twisting them both at a very awkward angle. The damage inflicted on Montgomery’s arm is too much for him to possibly endure, hence why he toys with the notion of tapping out. His free arm extends out across the canvas and is about to slap the ring to bring this match to an end…but would it matter….really…cause where’s the official…where’s the referee to signal for the bell…to signal for the end?
Someone up above seems to be looking out for Whitman, because an official does rush from the backstage area…that official being none other than Jacob Laymon…striped shirt binding to his upper body…wearing a woman’s small in order to make his body look bigger than it actually is.
Dollar: Laymon…The General Manager of Riot!? He’s coming out here to officiate now? But why would he even have any interest in doing so…unless…?
Before idle speculation can be made, Laymon slides into the ring and slips into position, watching Montgomery’s palm hover above the canvas, moments from slapping it to a pants ripping response from the crowd. But it doesn’t happen…why…because instead of acknowledging a potential submission, Laymon is reaching out and grabbing Whitman’s hands, forcing them away from Lukas’ jaw.
Dollar: What’s Laymon doing?
Susie: Wearing a shirt way too small for his body.
Whitman looks confused but eventually breaks the hold at the behest of Laymon…the GM informing him that his hands were locked around the throat as opposed to under the jaw, meaning he was illegally choking Montgomery….which is total…complete….and utter horse-shit. Whitman uses different terminology to express his outrage though, stepping up into the face of Laymon, who is arguing his point.
Dollar: Apparently Whitman had a chokehold applied rather than a basic crossface., and hence Laymon doing the right thing by making him break the submission.
The X-Class Champion continues arguing with Laymon, who merely smirks when being barked at by a man who doesn’t possess nearly as strong a bite.
Whitman: This is foul….downright vulgar of you, Mr. Laymon…I was on the verge of victory before your intercession.
Laymon: Deal with it, Whitman….maybe this will teach you to pick your friends a little more wisely.
It suddenly dawns on Whitman that Laymon is eluding to Clarence’s association with the Black Crusade over the past few weeks. Before Clarence can say anything else…he’s taught another lesson…never turning your back on your opponents. This lesson is taught to him by Montgomery, Lukas delivering the Quieter right to the back of Whitman’s head.
The X-Class Champion goes down hard to the canvas and then Lukas instantly pushes him over to his back and hooks the creases of both his knees.
Dollar: Whitman took his eye off the ball….
Susie: Lukas was only born with one?
Dollar: And it cost him…cost him HUGE…cause he backed right into the Quieter from Montgomery!
Laymon drops into position with a smirk on his face as he slaps the canvas.
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Its done…its over…Lukas has just picked up the win over the X-Class Champion in truly stunning fashion.
Dollar: Lukas obtains his vengeance…he gets his revenge…he picks up a win over the X-Class Champion…and he gives the Blacklist a hell of a lot of momentum headed into Upping the Ante.
Susie: That’s not fair at all…Whitman was cheated…he was sooo cheated.
Dollar: You can definitely argue that point.
Whitman clutches at the back of his skull as Laymon backs up into one of the turnbuckles, watching at this point, watching and getting some sick twisted delight out of suffrage inflicted on everyone in the Black Crusade’s sphere of influence. He bends down, hands to his knees and eyes intently watching as Whitman begins to get to his knees only to have a steel chair swung into his upper back from Montgomery…who isn’t through…isn’t through by a long shot.
Dollar: Whitman NAILED with the chair….Montgomery isn’t finished when it comes to punishing Whitman for his transgressions against the Blacklist last week.
Susie: All Whitman did was pinned him, right?
Dollar: In the eyes of the Blacklist…that’s the equivalent of Whitman sleeping with Lukas’ girlfriend….if Montgomery was the type of guy who believed in romance that is.
Susie: I’m sure his idea of romance involves sticking the detached head of a woman’s cat on her front porch with a hallmark card nailed to it.
Whitman tries to curl into the fetal position and protect himself, but the chair drives down into his ribs and prevents him from doing so. Lukas then throws the chair away and steps over Whitman’s back, pulling him up into a camel clutch before throwing a crossface forearm into his side of his head, then doing so to the opposite side of the skull as well. He then grabs the t-shirt adhering to Whitman’s body and rips it right down the middle, exposing his back to the blows Lukas is about to connect with. Just as he pulls back his forearm and finds himself in mid-swing, he stops, stops cold…glaring not into the spine of Whitman he prepares to crush…but the sigil drawn across it.
Dollar: Uh oh…why…why does Whitman have that emblem drawn on his back? Is that what he and Mr. Gaunt were up to backstage?
Lukas sneers at the sight of the sigil….but Laymon has already dove out of the ring and is rushing pale as a sheet up the ramp, knowing exactly what to expect. Montgomery goes on to play with fire, throwing a forearm right into the sigil…and the second the move connects the lights in the building dim.
Dollar: Laymon wisely getting out of here…I don’t think Montgomery realizes what he’s messing with though….The wrath he’s bringing down upon him.
Susie: I’m so scared I think I just regurgitated the gum I ate last week, and swallowed it all over again.
The lights remain dimmed in the building for several seconds before an eerie red hue begins to form. The scaffold lighting illuminates not just Montgomery, but the empty space beneath him, where Whitman once laid in a prone state. But not just that…not just Lukas…not just the vacant canvas below….but the rain….the rain of blood pouring down upon Montgomery. He looks up as the blood washes over him, pouring in wave after water of droplets.
Dollar: This may just be the strangest thing I’ve ever seen…and I watched Susperia….
Susie: It’s….it’s raining blood in the Manhattan Center. Super absorbency my ass.
Dollar: I can only think of one party responsible for this…the Black Crusade employing their conjuring skills once again.
Blood soaks the body of Montgomery, his clothes saturated with crimson, which continues pouring in a steady flow from the rafters. He then holds his hands out to his sides and begins to spin, twirling through the blood like a kid dancing in the rain. That twirling ends at once when the canvas rips open and a set of hands take hold of Lukas’ ankle..
Montgomery looks down with a frightened gleam in his eyes at the massive hands of Legion gripping at his leg. The monster’s face pushes up through the canvas, glaring with heart stopping intensity into the face of the Blacklist member. The potential challenger for Legion’s N.H.B Championship tries to get away, but the masked behemoth tugs on the leg, causing Lukas to hit the ring.
Montgomery tries to crawl away, desperately attempting to break free from Legion’s clutches.
Susie: I’m really grateful I brought along an extra pair of panties…
Dollar: LEGION…Legion materializing under the ring and now he’s got Lukas….who…who can’t get away.
Lukas is still trying to claw across the canvas and is almost free before he spots a pair of boots in front of his face. He slowly follows the boots up to knees, the knees to hips, the hips to a chest, and the chest to a face…the face of P Clarence Whitman III holding a steel chair.
Whitman: Going someplace?
Before Lukas can respond the chair cracks off the top of his skull and renders him incapable of fighting Legion. The Five Finger Crawl is locked in upon Lukas’ face, being used to push him down…down into the depths of…the depths of the unknown and truly forlorn.
Dollar; With the aid of Whitman…Legion has just dragged Montgomery beneath the ring….where who knows what horrors are awaiting him.
Susie: Probably some cenobite style shenanigans.
Legion is just about to vanish into the pit he’s created in the middle of the ring before he turns his head to acknowledge Whitman.
The smile on Clarence’s face vanishes as he slowly backs away, lowering the chair to the canvas and presenting it like a present to the show tribute to the monster. He then rolls to the outside and grips at the back of his skull, feeling the ill effects of the Quieter.
Dollar: The Blacklist had the upper hand throughout the night….but the tide has just turned…turned in the favor of the Black Crusade…who….
Mr. Gaunt: Mr. Whitman…kindly take your leave….
Through the curtains steps Mr. Gaunt, standing upon the stage with cane in one hand, microphone in the other. The red hue continues to enhance the menacing eyes of Legion as he turns his gaze to the conjurer…the patron of pagan rituals…Leeland Gaunt.
Mr. Gaunt: AGAIN…the Black Crusade has decided to offer our services…and though it goes against our better judgment…I have decided to offer the services of my leviathan, Legion, to fill the void left by that incredulous Hurse this evening…Orlando Cruze…should you require a tag team partner…Legion will fill that void…and promise to make Aaron Harrison’s evening, one that he and his Blacklist compatriots…shall never forget.
Dollar: Oh no….Things just went from really bad….to even worse for the Blacklist….Aaron Harrison was the only member of the group left unaffected by the Black Crusade…but he’s not getting off untouched this evening.
Susie: Yeah…normally takes one or two touches in order to get off.
Dollar: Legion to team with Orlando Cruze to take the Blacklist out entirely…But I don’t know…can Orlando trust Legion anymore than he could trust Hurse?
The camera slowly zooms in on the eye of Legion, as droplets of blood slowly ooze down his face and blazing pupil. He slowly bends down into the pit to continue his work…to pick up where he left off on Montgomery.
Dollar: This night has just gotten so bizarre…and apparently it’s about to get even stranger…Cause look at who’s coming to the ring.
Susie: Please be Santa Claus…please…please..PLEASE! I’ll even take the Grinch at this point…just not Jim Carrey’s shitty rendition of him.
We’re in the backstage area and the screen is split down the middle for a second time tonight….but hopefully not resulting in the same sequence of events that opened the show. On one side of the screen there’s a smile…this one not belonging to Tay-Tay…but Frankie Paradise. On the opposite side is the World Title…wrapped around Simon Cagero’s shoulder….but this time his eyes are darting every which way but forward, ready for anyone or anything that may come literally crashing down upon his head.
Oh and did we forget to mention whom else is with Frankie on his side of the screen…Bob…who takes up much of the monitor via his sheer girth, along with his huge personality.
Dollar: We’re about to see the hostage exchange we were promised at the start of the night…it’s happening…..and it’s happening right here…next on Riot!
Frankie continues to lead Bob along by the chain and the steel collar locked about his throat. Emotions are amped…hype is at its max…intrigue is running rampant….all moments before Bob is given up for possession of the World Heavyweight Title.
MOMENTS AGO
Clips of Lukas Montgomery standing in the ring with blood raining down from the rafters…clips of Legion ripping through the canvas beneath Montgomery and grabbing his ankle…clips of Whitman slamming a steel chair into the top of Lukas’ skull…and clips of Leeland Gaunt standing on the stage with microphone in hand, making the bombshell of all bombshells.
Dollar: What a twisted situation you just missed before the break ladies and gentlemen….Yep…we’ve got another recap for you….cause if your out of the loop…go jump off a bridge you piece of shit….
Susie: Yeah…cause you can’t afford to miss a minute of this.
Dollar: As if the events of the evening couldn’t possibly get any more….
Susie: Twisted? Yes, you already said that.
Dollar: Don’t you dare..DARE steal my thunder woman…Anyway…before the break we saw Lukas Montgomery pick up a win over the red-hot X-Class Champion, hitting him with the Quieter to the back of his skull…mostly thanks to the distraction posed by Jacob Laymon….but Montgomery’s victory celebration didn’t last long…thanks to the mystical abilities of the Black Crusade, who showered the ring with blood then dragged Lukas to the depths of….I shudder to even think.
Susie: Plus we get to see Legion team with Orlando tonight…YAY!
Dollar: Indeed. Leeland Gaunt made the announcement that Legion will take Hurse’s spot in that tag team match which we’re moments away from seeing.
The next intro theme to pipe through the speakers brings absolutely every fan in attendance to their feet. Once again they are demonstrating sheer elation when Simon Cagero steps through the curtains, looking as if he’s regained some of his strength and stability. He no longer wobbles his way to the ring, but marches…marches with his shoulder bogged down by the World Heavyweight Championship…
Dollar: And at last…at long….long last our hostage exchange has come….and it’s involving one of the two parties who were suppose to be involved in this at the start of the night…the very man you’re looking at right now.. Simon Cagero…who was able to take back the World Heavyweight Title after super kicking Christian Savior backstage. He fought hard to get it back…only to ultimately turn the title back over to Taylor Chase.
Susie: This guy doesn’t look too good…
Dollar: When has he ever?
Susie: I mean he looks a little more beat up tonight.
Dollar: At least he doesn’t look as bad as he did earlier.
Simon stumbles a little when entering the ring with the World Title…trying to throw in a twirl which was very ill advised. He then turns back towards the stage, eyeballing it just as King Zero by Drowning Pool begins to play through the PA system. A genuine expression of annoyance overtakes Cagero’s face…sighing when he realizes that it’s Frankie…and not Tay-Tay stepping through the curtains. At the very least there’s Bob….Bob in ALLL his flesh…chain and collar present as well.
Susie: It’s Bob…Bob…BOOOOOBBB.
Dollar: Susie, you’re drooling…Here…take this plastic bag and breathe into it before you hyperventilate.
Susie: Thanks.
Dollar: Bob is here…and he looks almost complacent being led around by the neck at the hands of Frankie Paradise…who as we understand it…is representing Tay-Tay during this whole hostage exchange…Trying to keep Taylor out of harm’s way before she faces off with Christian Savior tonight.
Simon stares down both men on the stage, Frankie, sporting the World Champion Cock belt glued to his abs, and Bob…who has no abs to glue anything to.
Frankie: Alright Simon….enough….this evening hasn’t gone according to plan for either one of us….I mean, you’re standing here looking like you’ve been in a Dario Argento movie…and I feel like I’ve just been forced into a friggin Saturday Night Live skit…
Gestures are made to the gold GLUED around his waist.
Frankie: And not even the GOOD Saturday Night Live…I’m talking like the 1985-86 era, with Anthony Michael Hall….yeah…total levels of suckitude….But let’s not discuss Anthony ‘Never Found a Career Post John Hughes’ Hall….and let’s talk about the career of Taylor Chase…a career I’m no longer about to let you stand out here sabotaging cause your such a ego-whore, who can’t tolerate the fact that someone…anyone….other than yourself is making waves here in the IWC. Hence why you’re standing there with the stolen World Heavyweight Championship…
The gold is polished by Simon’s wrist band.
Frankie: But your over-inflated ego…I’m about to pop it like I have so many cherries the world over…You…BITCH…are going to hand back that World Heavyweight Championship…no…no…that’s not even good enough. Cause you’re gonna apologize…you hear that…you’re gonna apologize to Taylor Chase for taking what she worked her beautiful…ever so toned ass off in order to win…You’re gonna give back the belt…then you’re gonna drop to your knees…and you’re gonna say ‘I’m sorry Tay-Tay…you’re awesome…..and I’m just some malnourished, Holocaust looking motherfucker who can’t finish a Happy Meal without throwing up.’
Simon: Am I now? Is that what I’m gonna do?
Frankie: Ya damn straight…
Simon: Because see…I kinda had different plans for how this would all go down…
Frankie: Nobody cares.
Simon: Oh…but I think they do…I think everyone would rather see something ‘entertaining’ rather than watching me line up to kiss Tay-Tay’s ever expanding ass cheeks….
Frankie: You’ll kiss her ass and like it.
Simon: No….no…I think what I’ll do instead…is I’ll hold onto the championship…then I’ll walk up that ramp…and instead of kissing ass…I’ll kick it…by taking my boot and ramming….
Frankie: Nah-nah-nah-NAH!
Frankie freaks out, shaking his head and getting very emotional.
Frankie: You got the first part right…You WILL bring that championship up this ramp and you WILL give it to me…so that I can go on to Upping the Ante and referee the main event…
Simon: And yes…yes..continuing to give oral pleasure to Tay-Tay while getting absolutely nothing back in return….We know already…..you’re incredibly pussy whipped…and your balls are about the size of raisons…You’re telling us nothing new…nor nothing entertaining…
Frankie: Okay…how’s this for entertaining? How about I challenge you to a match at Upping the Ante…a match to settle this once and for all…a match that will make sure that you end up kissing Tay-Tay’s ass.
Simon: YAWN.
Frankie: You…me…one on one at the pay-per-view…and if I beat you…you become the personal servant for Taylor Chase for one night…you do absolutely everything she tells you to do…you fall in line and follow her orders…then you’ll learn to respect her.
Simon shakes his head in true condescending fashion.
Simon: Seriously? Is that the best your poor wittle pussy whipped mind could come up with? I think…nah…..I know I can do a little better than that…How about…?
Silencer turns to address the crowd, seeming to seek through approval.
Simon:…when I beat you at the pay-per-view….Taylor Chase will have to spend the night with…with…BOB!
The whole building reacts with an explosion of pure excitement…but Frankie explodes in a totally different way….especially after looking at the greasy face of Bob…and imagining his lips around Taylor’s face.
Frankie: That won’t happen…Bob will NEVER spend a night with Tay-Tay…why? Because I’m not just gonna beat you at Upping the Ante…But I’m gonna beat Bob until he can’t…
Simon: Sorry Frankie, but I’m pretty sure no one wants to see you beat off Bob.
Frankie: Oh…you’ll watch what I’m about to do to Bob right no….
The chain wrapped around Frankie’s fist, is yanked, pulling him towards the opposite end that is latched onto the collar about Bob’s neck. Paradise is yanked directly into a side headlock as Bob then unleashes the dreaded Wiggy Twiggle much to the delight of the masses. Simon smiles…and smiles wide…but then…uh-oh….he loses his smile…just not in Shawn Michaels fashion…when he’s spun around a knee comes traveling towards his skull…the knee protected by a steel brace…the knee owned by Taylor Chase.
Dollar: CHASE! Where’d she come from?
Susie: A vagina.
Dollar: Not literally…I mean…she’s totally getting the drop on Cagero!
Or so she thought…cause Simon steps back and avoids the knee sailing at his face. Tay-Tay lands on her feet, spins around and ALMOST walks right into the super kick before dropping to the canvas to avoid it. She rolls across the ring and snatches hold of the dropped World Championship in the process. Silencer’s eyes are so focused on Taylor and the title belt that has just found its way into her possession that he doesn’t notice Paradise rushing down the ramp behind him. He then spins around just as Frankie leaps to the apron, having escaped Bob, who is too slow to catch up with him.
Paradise enters the ring and rushes towards Cagero, who turns just in time to threaten Frankie with the super kick as well. But Frankie does just as Tay-Tay did, leaping from the apron in the nick of time to avoid having his jaw crushed. He then uses his jaw…thanks to avoiding said kick…to run Simon’s name through the mud.
Chase could care less about the proceedings within the ring…marching up the ramp with the World Championship held across her forearms, so…..sooo happy to be reunited with it.
Dollar: This couldn’t have played out anymore perfect for Tay-Tay…she’s got back the World Title…and didn’t even exert much effort to do it….Frankie provided the perfect distraction to get Simon to drop his guard long enough for her grab the belt…and….wait…wait a minute…
Rose is about half way up the ramp when she finally looks up from the gold and into the faces of Christian and Rose Savior. The two are standing on the stage, eyes glued not to just Tay-Tay, but the belt that she has in her possession.
She slowly backs down the ramp, throwing her belt close to her chest, hugging it…cuddling it close to her bosom like it were the Golden Idol of Indiana Jones lore. Though backing into the ring is no safer….Simon waiting for her to re-enter so that he can get his hands on the World Championship once again.
Frankie is also torn between a rock and a hard place, eying Simon, and the Savior’s….Caught between his desire to mangle Simon, and to protect Tay-Tay…He instantly darts to the side of Chase and the two throw their fists into the air, enticing the Saviors to come down the ramp and TRY to take them out.
Orlando: This isn’t happening…no way…no way!
The crowd doesn’t know what to think…their heads about to explode as they mentally digest everything their witnessing here…as Orlando Cruze steps through the curtains and to the stage…where he slams a steel chair against the steel grating beneath his feet. Christian and Rose turn, ready to unload on the man who has come out here to protect Tay-Tay…his precious….precious Tay-Tay.
Orlando: You two aren’t getting your hands on that World Title…understood?
When these words exit the mouth of Cruze, Frankie pounces on them like a fat kid on cake. He grabs Taylor by the shoulder and points up the ramp at the Icon…insisting that he called it…that he told her…that he WARNED her the World Championship was Orlando’s true motivation. Orlando only has eyes on the Saviors…and not even the gargantuan Bob seated Indian style on the stage beside him licking the chain hanging from around his neck.
Dollar: This is an absolute powder keg waiting to explode out here…
Susie: We’ve got a total Mexican stand off right now..The only thing we’re missing are doves flying melodramatically past the camera…Then this would be a total John Woo film.
Dollar: Everyone…everyone after that World Heavyweight Championship, and now it’s led to this…this cluster of epic proportions.
As Silencer, Paradise, Taylor, Orlando, and the Saviors all look to take each other out the cameras shift to the backstage area.
A monitor provides images of this very tense stare-down…..and the man who watches with a gigantic grin on his face….Desmond Drake swaying from side to side in his chair, balled up fist raised to his upturned lips.
Drake: This gentlemen…is how a plan comes together.
Jacob Laymon…Billy Mayne…and Executioner all nod as they sit on the desk or stand around it…the administration watching this scene unfold with equally as wide grins plastered on their faces. Those smiles waver and waver quite a bit when….
Stop this….stop this mindless violence!
Desmond’s fist stops hiding that same smirk he’s worn all throughout the night…because said smirk is gone…replaced with a look like he just swallowed a bitter pill.
As if there wasn’t enough raging testosterone and estrogen in or around the ring…one more person steps out to add to the insanity…that person being….
Mr. D: Why am I not surprised to see all of you being so easily played.
The crowd is less than forgiving when it comes to the sight of the infamous SCW owner setting foot in an IWC arena….in spite of the fact that Mr. D is apparently here to see that all these hot heads are cooled.
Dollar: He’s here again? Mr. D…chairman of the board….the very board that owns and operates both SCW and IWC…is making yet another unexpected appearance here tonight on Riot!
Mr. D: But….
It almost seems to pain Mr. D to say it…but it’s a confession that need be made.
Mr. D:…as much as I hate to admit…someone accomplished something that hasn’t been done in years…they played me TOO…
The thought makes him groan and groan he does…groan like an old man with a broken hip stooping over to tie his shoe…
Mr. D: The only difference between us, is that I woke up…I realized I was being played…played by Desmond Drake…and I’m not about to let myself be a pawn in his game anymore. Look at all of you…falling right into the trap he set…He wants all of you to destroy each other…to take one another out…so that there will be no one left to challenge his authority in this company. A company he stole from you Orlando, by playing the two of us off one another…luring me away from the boardroom last week…so that I wouldn’t be there to oppose the vote the board made in removing YOU as president…..and putting Desmond in charge. But…but…
It pangs him to even relive recent history.
Mr. D: I won’t be away from the boardroom forever….Desmond wasn’t thinking about that was he? And it won’t be long before I’ve forced the board to look at scenes just like these…scenes just as chaotic…just as disturbing…just as violent as the ones that led to you being striped of your powers…Orlando….
Orlando doesn’t care…doesn’t care to hear a single word…no matter how practical it might be….coming through the lips of Mr. D. He’s instantly deaf to even a single syllable emanating from the SCW owner’s lips.
Mr. D: I’m gonna make sure that the Board sees exactly what Desmond is doing…and that their eyes are opened to the manipulation….
Drake: Ummm…excuse me…excuse me…excuse me….Are you quite finished yet…Olek?
The fact that Desmond refers to him by his first name…an act of sheer disrespect…gets a snarl from Mr. D as he looks up at the Cartel-tron. The big screen can even make Desmond look physically imposing…even as his miniscule frame sits behind his desk, flanked by his associates.
Drake: Have you finished standing out here LYING to the board…and LYING to this roster? So typical, so typical of you, Olek. You don’t get your own way…you don’t get to feed your little ego…so you lash out…lash out at the only man who has thus far shown he’s capable of running a PROFESSIONAL wrestling company….Enough, Olek…enough…there’s no cause for you to embarrass yourself like this…
Mr. D: The only embarrassment is what we were moments from seeing out here…when the entire IWC roster tries to tear itself apart because of your….
Drake: I can assure you…but more importantly…the Board of Directors…who I’m sure is watching at this very moment…that I had absolutely no intent of letting this violence explode….In spite of the fact that Orlando Cruze here, was clearly the instigator…
Orlando lowers the chair to his side and shakes his head, imagining who he’d really like to beat with the steel still in his clutches…and it’s no one around the ring or in it.
Drake: There’s no wonder Orlando can’t find a tag team partner tonight…who would want associate with such a psychopathic tyrant? Me…me on the other hand…I’m not out there swinging steel chairs at my roster…no…I’m back here moving to protect them from such animals as Orlando…And furthermore…to ensure that this situation doesn’t explode into a wave of uncontained violence…the type of violence we see oh so commonplace in SCW…under your roof, Olek…I’m taking a page from the book of Frankie Paradise and Simon Cagero…by attachjing a few stipulations to the pending bout between Christian Savior and Taylor Chase…a bout we’re going to see right now….To show that I am completely fair, and totally unbiased, Tay-Tay…if you win this match…you’ll get to name the special referee for your World Title match at Upping the Ante…
The thought brings a big grin to the face of Tay-Tay….who looks a bit relieved before she spots equally as wide smiles on Frankie’s face…and Orlando’s face…realizing both men have the same idea…Instantly she feels stuck in the same rocky predicament she was in earlier tonight.
Desmond: BUT…Christian…if YOU win tonight, then your wife there, Rose, will be named special guest referee for the World Title bout between Aaron Harrison and Taylor Chase at Upping the Ante….
Now the grins are plastered across the faces of both Christian and Rose.
Desmond: And if anyone…ANYONE at all…even thinks about interfering in this match…they will be immediately released from their contract here in the IWC…..There….I think that should do something that neither you…Olek…nor Orlando Cruze…have been capable of since day one…pleasing the Board of Directors.
The Cartel-tron cuts out and through the curtains now steps the referee for this pending confrontation…that referee being not a member of the Black Crusade…but Jacob Laymon…who so wonderfully officiated the last match. Immediately the General Manager begins to yell at everyone to go backstage so that this match can proceed. But before it can, Taylor can’t help herself, she steps right up the ramp and gets directly into Christian’s face. Savior and Chase eye to eye with the World Title boldly being raised above Tay-Tay’s head, hyping the match the two are about to collide in moments from now.
The footage is so dark in tone and nature that it almost looks black and white….filming from a location of undisclosed origins backstage. There is nothing but a brick wall…barely illuminated in the background….positioned just behind the swaying body of Mr. Hush…who hangs upside down with his ankles chained to the ceiling and his hands tied together. As the camera pans out slowly…two more figures appear hanging like cattle cadavers being drained of blood….Silence and Al Todd-Meriweather…but neither has been lacerated and exsanguinated…not yet.
A curved blade with spiked silver knucks around the handle is raised into the air, held mere inches from the camera, implying that its closer in proximity than the bodies hanging in the distance.
Ba’al: You questioned…you doubted…you cried bluff…when judgment was made and a sentence was promised…
The knife moves further and further away from the camera as Ba’al closes the distance between himself and the bodies hanging from the hooks and chains. In spite of brandishing the knife and holding it mere inches from Mr. Hush’s face…he fails to so much as bat an eye.
Ba’al: But the sentence….it will be carried out…and the only cries…will be your own.
The tip of the curved blade pushes against Ba’al’s finger, extracting just a small sliver of blood that he places to Mr. Hush’s forehead, putting his own sigil upon the Black Crusade member’s skull….or perhaps drawing a target.
All the parties…no matter how interested they may be in this next confrontation….have vacated the ringside area…leaving only two…two athletes…inside to wage what promises to be a particularly gruesome confrontation…high octane confrontation. Christian Savior and Taylor Chase start off this match the very same way they were left standing on the ramp moments before the show cut to commercial break. They step up into each other’s faces and instantly Tay-Tay starts in with insults…while Christian remains as stoic as a stature.
Dollar: We couldn’t be coming back from commercial break with a stronger visual…this is it ladies and gentlemen…Savior versus Chase…Christian about to get some payback for his wife…his wife that was mangled and mutilated by Tay-Tay’s cohorts just a few weeks ago.
Susie: But why punish Tay-Tay for the actions of her friends? It’s not like she knew about it…besides, she’s already going to suffer at the pay-per-view where she’ll compete with hands cuffed behind her back.
Dollar: Yes…but if she wins this match…she can at least influence who will be referring that match…someone who will watch her back.
Susie: I think Frankie spends too much time watching Tay-Tay’s back already…te-he-he.
The bell chimes and the words stop flowing in favor of fists. Tay-Tay immediately throws a boot at Christian’s ribs only to have her ankle caught and her foot to be shot back down to the canvas. The moment she puts her foot to the ring she leaves the canvas, lunging into the air for a dropkick. But Christian side steps it and pushes Chase down to the canvas. He then steps in beside Chase, takes her around by the back of the head, leads her up to her feet, and then charges her across the ring. He’s just about to throw her skull first against the turnbuckle when Chase slips free, stepping around behind Christian,
He turns around just as Tay-Tay looks to end this and end this early, leaping into the air right at Christian’s face with the protected knee brace traveling right into his skull. But the Rising Phoenix descends, narrowly avoiding the knee strike that carries Taylor right along into the turnbuckle. She lands on the middle rope then turns around when Christian grabs her by the throat and the stomach.
Tay-Tay’s eyes widen as Christian throws her off the turnbuckle and through the air with a basic press, demonstrating his strength against the smaller Chase…Her size proves to be a benefit though, allowing Taylor to tuck her chin to her chest and then roll forward across the canvas to her feet. She employs great speed by racing to an upright base and then charging at Christian who side steps her coming in, catches the back of her head and throws her face first into the turnbuckle pad.
Dollar: Tay-Tay avoided being flung into that post the first time, but definitely not the second in this very fast paced….oh look at this…tell me Christian’s not going for this so early…
Christian backs to the center of the ring, bends forward with palms on knees and eyes focused with rabid intensity upon the dazed Tay-Tay.
Her brains may be scrambled, but still prove proficient in keeping her upright…well…upright long enough to turn into the Bloodline Spear. He rushes forward and dives at Tay-Tay, who leaps into the air and catches Christian around the waist as he charges absent mindedly beneath her. She then rolls Christian over into the sunset flip, with Laymon falling into position and slapping the canvas to a rousing reaction from the crowd.
1
Christian kicks out, getting a shoulder from the canvas and twisting away from Tay-Tay. He falls over to his chest and stomach when Chase leaps to his side, grabs his arm and lifts it up over her knee. She then twists around the arm and then dives over Christian’s back, catching his other arm and flipping him over into the Mahistrial Cradle.
1
2
Savior gets his shoulders up, dropping over to his knees and then reaching out, catching Tay-Tay around the neck, then using said grip to lead the World Champion to her feet. She then grabs the waistband of her opponent, heaving her up into the air for the implant DDT only to have Tay-Tay reverse by shifting her weight and falling back down to her feet only to transition into a small package.
1
Savior kicks out and rushes to his feet at the same time that Taylor does.
Dollar: Several quick pinfall attempts by Tay-Tay…and even though they didn’t pick her up the win they are wearing Savior down.
Susie: I’m wore out too…trying to keep track of everything tonight it’s…it’s too much work…I’m exhausted.
Dollar: This has definitely been a roller coaster of a show thus far, Susie.
Susie: And now you just made me sick at the mere mention of a roller coaster.
The moment the two reach an upright base Savior steps in and takes Tay-Tay around the neck, getting her into position for the downward spiral. But just before he can connect, Chase squirms free, slipping behind the Rising Phoenix then reaching back and hooking both of his arms. She drags Christian down into the backslide pin to the shock of everyone….especially the Rising Phoenix.
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Out of the pin Savior rolls, dropping to his elbows and knees in front of Tay-Tay and then taking her around the neck, pushing her up to her feet before leaping into the air and wedging both knees to her chest. He drops back into the code breaker only to have Tay-Tay grab the top rope and prevent being yanked down into the move. Instead she remains standing, and then reaches down and hooks both of Christian’s legs by the creases of his knees and flips forward into the jackknife cover.
Dollar: Seems like Taylor has an answer to everything that Christian is throwing at her…constantly reversing into these pins.
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Christian sits up and sends Tay-Tay rolling in reverse to her knees only for her to head to end up in the clutches of the IWC legend. He stands up and pulls Chase to her feet still trapped in the front chancery, grabbing her waistband and going for another inverted DDT.
But this time Taylor doesn’t have a pinning counter and instead just drops out of the front chancery and then drops to the outside of the ring.
Susie: Where is Tay-Tay going? If it’s to Six Flags…and she doesn’t invite me…I’m gonna be seriously pissed. Like super pissed…Enough to turn me into Hulk Susie…who will smash…smash…smash!
Dollar: I think she’s just trying to avoid having her head caved in by this super aggressive Savior. He wants so badly to make sure that Rose becomes the special referee for that match at Upping the Ante…between Tay-Tay and Aaron Harrison…a mach I’m not even sure Tay-Tay is all too concerned with after finding out she might have to spend the night with Bob…
Susie: Now I’m REALLY pissed. She not only goes to Six Flags….but she refuses to share Bob with me…and there’s so much of him to go around too.
Tay-Tay kicks her hair back on the outside of the ring and ruffles it with both palms as she sashays towards the ramp….smirking and winking towards several fans in a sheer display of arrogance. Christian puts an end to all this showwomanship….rolling to the outside and rushing up behind Tay-Tay, who wisely opts to take off, causing the Rising Phoenix to follow and nip at her heels.
Chase reaches the steps and then leaps on top of them before jumping to the turnbuckle, landing on the middle cable. She then turns around, about to dive off only to have Christina leap to the top step and then lunge to the turnbuckle in front of her. He grabs Chase around the neck and the back of the tights, about to pull her off the post and to the outside mats from a tremendous height with the inverted DDT.
Dollar: No…no…Christian…you’re gonna kill her…you’re gonna kill her.
Susie: Good…then Bob’s sexy ham smeared nipples will be mine…all mine.
The crowd stands up in anticipation of delivering a holy shit chant when Tay-Tay kicks Christian to the knee, causing him to break the front chancery and double over…Not a good position at all. Tay-Tay shoves Christian off the middle rope and sends him flying down into the steel steps he just lunged off of moments ago. He bashes skull first against the steel, his head bouncing back and his body collapsing to the outside mats…now stretched across them.
Tay-Tay stands up on the middle rope and overlooks the screaming crowd before she takes flight, soaring through the air and ultimately delivering a diving elbow strike right to Christian’s chest all the way down on the mats below.
Dollar: I think Tay-Tay may have channeled the spirit of Mic Foley there….
Susie: Only a really…really slender version of him…with bigger boobs.
Taylor stands up and makes a bang-bang motion with her hands before blowing seductively at the tips of her fingers. She then steps up behind Christian, who is sitting up sluggishly and then digs the fingers she just used to pantomime two pistols to dig right into the face of her opponent. She claws at his features, fish hooking his mouth and his eyeballs. She then lifts her elbow into the air and brings it down right into the forehead of Savior.
Dollar: I’m quite surprised by this…One would suspect that Christian Savior would be the most aggressive athlete in this match and would be all over Tay-Tay after what happened all those weeks ago…but instead it’s Taylor getting the better of him….She knows that winning this match may be the only thing that saves her at Upping the Ante….by being able to pick her own referee.
The eyes and the face are clawed brutally by Chase with Laymon surprisingly not doing a thing about it. He just watches with a slight smirk on his face as Chase leads Christian up to his feet and then towards the ring. She rolls him in under the ropes, but keeps his upper half over the apron, head dangling above the mats. Tay-Tay backs up then gets a big running start, delivering a huge kick to the side of Christian’s head.
Savior tries to roll back into the ring only to have Rose grab him by the bangs, and then deliver a big European Uppercut against the very jaw that was super kicked earlier in the night. Christian rolls towards the middle of the ring, kicking his legs and clutching at his mangled face while Chase climbs up onto the apron then marches across it to the middle of the apron. She bends forward and waits for Savior to stand up, crouched and anticipating the biggest of big dives. Christian slowly gets to his feet when Chase springs to the top rope and takes flight, soaring right into him with a flying double axe handle. But it’s not her fists that connect, it’s a boot…Christian’s boot…which drills her right in the gut…doubling her over. Instantly Christian catches her around the neck, heaves her up into the air and plants her with the implant DDT.
Taylor’s whole body curls up like an accordion upon collision with the canvas. She then snaps over to her back but Christian, still suffering the ill effects of the super kick from earlier tonight, is unable to make the cover. He just lies there, barely conscious after everything he’s endured in such a short period of time in this match.
Dollar: Finally Savior gets out of the blocks…
Susie: Now I’m even MORE mad…when did they bust out blocks and not let me play with them?
Dollar: Do NOT cut me off again…or I’ll be the last person you ever cut off. If you think Mika puking maggots backstage was bad…wait until you see the powers a millionaire can summon.
Susie: A millionaire? Ewwww, you could buy Six Flags for me and all the blocks I could ever want to play with.
Savior sluggishly turns over to his side…but is rolling away instead of towards Tay-Tay. She’s not moving much at all, the landing on her head proving to be quite devastating. Savior crawls into the turnbuckle, grabbing hold of it and utilizing it to reach his feet. He then turns and pulls himself up the corner, sitting on the top rope and beginning to steady himself for a big dive when Tay-Tay comes staggering in out of nowhere.
She leaps into the air and wedges her feet right to Christian’s ribs while interlocking her hands around the back of his head, going to monkey flip him right off the top rope. But Savior reaches back, wrapping his hands around the top rope, preventing being flung from the upper most cable and sent flying far across the ring. He finally reaches out and wraps hands around the creases of Chase’s legs, pushing her feet away from his ribs and throwing her legs over his shoulders. He stands up, on the verge of delivering a power bomb off the top rope and to the center of the ring when the World Champion drops back into a super hurricarana.
Christian flips over and slams into the canvas with Tay-Tay coming down on top of his chest and then reaching back to hook the creases of his knees. But Savior sits up, rolling right through the hurricarana and to his feet, reaching down and burying his shoulders into the creases of Chase’s knees, heaving her up from the canvas before ultimately power bombing her back down to the canvas.
Dollar: What a testament of Savior’s strength to hit that move. Now all he’s got to do is go for the pin…..go for the pin and Rose will become the special referee at Upping the Ante.
Savior falls back into the ropes after delivering the move that leaves Tay-Tay convulsing. On instinct she tries to get up only to have Christian rush out of the ropes and deliver a big dropkick right to her chest. The shot knocks her to her back and then Savior crawls into the lateral press, desperate to put Rose into the coveted special referee position at Upping the Ante.
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Savior finds it hard to believe and difficult to deal with that Tay-Tay got a shoulder up, evading the loss and keeping her chances of walking out of the pay-per-view with her championship marginally slim at best.
Dollar: These two fighting for so much…so much….their livelihoods almost. Christian fighting here to make sure that Rose becomes the special referee….but Tay-Tay fighting to save her life…cause if she goes into that match at Upping the Ante with her hands shackled behind her back…with Aaron Harrison as the challenger under no disqualification rules…and without the ability to name a special referee….Jesus Christ…she’s totally boned…
Christian pushes Tay-Tay up to her seat and then applies a seated version of the abdominal stretch…an abdominal stretch that prevents her from being able to block the repeated elbow strikes to her side of her skull. One elbow after another nails Tay-Tay to the temple and the cheek, Christian unconcerned with the amount of physical damage he’s inflicting to her wonderful bone structure. At last he rolls Tay-Tay over out of the strikes and into a submission. He takes Tay-Tay around the neck and applies a cravat. He keeps her grounded with the submission as Chase flops and flails her body, trying her best to escape but getting nowhere fast.
Dollar: Tay-Tay knows what’s on the line here…how important this match is…this is must win for her…must win.
This realization is what drives her…compels her to keep rising…..rising towards her feet in spite of the cravat twisting her head from her shoulders, twisting it off like a bottle top. In spite of the strain placed on her neck and head, Tay-Tay gets to her feet when Christian transitions from cravat into the cravat cutter. He flips over the back of Taylor’s head and drags her down to the canvas.
Taylor sits up and Christian forces her back down to the canvas before falling over her sternum.
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Chase cannot afford to lose this match…which is why she kicks out…realizing that Rose Savior would put her through even greater punishment than Harrison if she were to become the special referee at Upping the Ante.
Christian applies another neck cravat, determined to get the submission, realizing this is Rose’s big opportunity to get revenge and redemption against Tay-Tay at the pay-per-view. Chase tries to pry her neck free as her head is twisted and torqued at a very awkward angle. Slowly, painstakingly she begins to stand up with heart beats racing and brows sweating in anticipation of what’s to come next.
Dollar: We’re seeing a far more determined Taylor Chase on this evening…one who HAS to win….
Susie: Plus she’s actually wrestling with shoes on…which is just weird. We should just change the name of the company to BFW…Bare Footed Wrestling….then we should move the home base of operations to Alabama.
Dollar: That way you could return to your humble trailer park origins, Susie.
All eyes intently watch as Tay-Tay gets to her feet and then finally, painstakingly begins to turn out of the cravat, but Savior isn’t about to let that happen. He secures the hold and then twirls around and around, actually lifting Chase up off of the canvas with her legs swinging through the air. He is actually performing a modification of the giant swing with Tay-Tay still trapped in the cravat before throwing her half way across the ring. Chase eventually crashes across the canvas across her jaw, plopping over to her back and leaving her susceptible to what happens next…..and what’s next one might be asking themselves….why another transition…into the neck cravat, Christian absolutely determined to rip her head clean from her shoulders if that’s what it takes.
Dollar: Savior consistently keeping Tay-Tay grounded…this match cannot last very much longer….cause while Chase was keeping Christian exhausted through pinfalls…these submissions are proving far more effective in wearing down the World Champion.
Tay-Tay is sluggish as she ascends to her knees and then works her way upward, trying her best to persevere through this hold. A grimacing Savior then twists around, lifting Tay-Tay up into the air in another giant swing before throwing Chase across the ring out of the cravat…but somehow…amazingly…Chase lands straight on her feet.
Savior turns in a full circle and becomes wide eyed at the sight of Chase holding her ground. Before he can react Tay-Tay rushes at him and leaps into the air, wedging feet to his stomach and taking him around the back of the head…going for the monkey flip…going for…but failing to connect. Savior counters the same way he did from that precarious top rope predicament, he catches her around the creases of the knees and throws her up into the air. But this time Chase uses the momentum to leap right over Savior’s head instead of landing on his shoulders.
She falls to the canvas behind Christian, who spins around right into a backwards flipping kick right to the top of the head.
Dollar: Tay-Tay back in the game.
Susie: Bullshit!
Dollar: What now?
Susie: She gets a big bright and shiny….she gets a night with Bob…and now she’s allowed to play with a gameboy too….I swear to goodness…..if she gets to break-dance too…I’m gonna flip my lid.
Tay-Tay is down, but miraculously Savior is still upright, teetering between feet as he fights to remain conscious. He then steps forward and TayTay by the hair, dragging her up to her feet when she swats his arms aside and leaps into a twisting enzugari to the back of his skull. The kick connects and leaves Christian staggering but STILL upright…but not for very much longer…cause Chase lunges into the air and nails him with a dropkick to the chest.
Savior isn’t taken down but sent spiraling into one of the turnbuckles, falling against them for support. The Rising Phoenix looks dazed though still determined. Tay-Tay gets up with a shocked expression on her face when she spots Savior still upright….even more stunned when Christian rushes out of the corner and throws a lariat that Chase ducks.
Christian then spins around hwen Chase flips over backwards into another kick…but this time the inbound foot is caught in the clutches of the Rising Phoenix. He then tries to apply a submission when Chase rolls back, placing both of her shins on top of Christian’s shoulders, interlocking her ankles behind the back of his head. She pushes herself up off of the canvas and spins in circle after circle after circle…pulling Christian around and around and around until the crowd gets dizzy just watching…she then snaps off with the head scissors, flipping Savior over and across the ring.
The Rising Phoenix collides with the canvas then rolls across it into the ropes, falling over the middle rope chest and throw first. That’s when the quick thinking Tay-Tay rushes in behind him and goes airborne, landing rump first across the back of Savior’s head and snapping his throat off the middle rope.
Dollar: Momentum shifting back in the favor of Taylor Chase….She’s got to keep on the advantage now or she will be in serious…..serious trouble come the pay-per-view. Being able to pick her own referee at Upping the Ante opens a lot of doors to Tay-Tay…
Susie: But with the exception of myself…who…who can she possibly trust to officiate that match?
Dollar: Good point….Gavin Taylor maybe? Cause Orlando Cruze and Frankie Paradise…who knows what truly motivates either one of those guys.
To the apron leaps Taylor before she delivers a big basement dropkick to the cheek and temple of Savior, knocking him back into the ring. She then takes the top rope and waits for Christian to get up. Hesitantly Christian begins to stand up, just reaching his feet when Tay-Tay goes springboard, launching herself off the top rope and flying with a big knee right at Christian’s skull. But her high risk attempt pays off just as poorly as Rose’s attempts to spring from the cables earlier in the night.
At the last second Christian side steps the inbound knee, causing Tay-Tay to miss a modification of her finishing knock out strike. She lands on her feet instead of landing the knee while Christian barrels into the cables behind her, ricocheting off and coming back in with a big spear.
Tay-Tay turns and spots the Bloodline Spear moments from connecting before she leap frogs him, causing Savior to fly right under her and go sailing through the ropes. Christian turns and collides with the mats spine and shoulder first, resulting in a groan from the crowd. He then rolls to his feet as Tay-Tay rushes across the ring, leaps over the top rope and connects with a big cross body to the outside, knocking both competitors down to the mats amidst roars from the crowd and roars of pain from both athletes.
Dollar: These two still having their opponent’s finishers scouted…
Susie: Before Tay-Tay channels her inner Peter Pan and goes flying without even the need for pixy dust.
Dollar: Once again, I must question…why are you permitted to speak.
Susie: Don’t know…would be so much cooler if I could just use sign language.
Jacob Laymon sits on his hands, not even starting a ten count from the middle of the ring…letting these two beat each other up to their full heart’s delight…and that’s exactly what they’re doing. Taylor drags Christian up to his feet, punch after punch after punch nailing him to the face and knocking him against the barricade. She then delivers a swift roundhouse kick to the chest, and then a second before leading him to the ring and rolling him in under the ropes. Chase then climbs up onto the apron and grabs the top rope, about to go springboard a second time. But Savior rolls out of position, prompting her to begin sliding through the cables. This is just the opportunity Christian was looking for. He rushes in and grabs Tay-Tay around the neck, applying another cravat.
Dollar: Back into the….forget about it!
Tay-Tay keeps hold of the middle rope and prevents being dragged back into the ring and put into the hold….allowing her to pull back. She then stands up on the apron and reaches over the ropes, taking Christian around the jaw with both hands before leaping off the apron. The back of Christian’s head snaps off the top rope and he goes stumbling to the center of the ring, dropping to his knees.
This is Chase’s opportunity…her GRAND opportunity…sliding into the ring and rushing into the ropes in front of her kneeling opponent. She then comes barreling towards Savior who leaps from his feet then lunges forward into a rib shattering spear.
The Bloodline Spear connects with Tay-Tay going down and Savior kneeling at her side.
Dollar: SPEAR…
Susie:…Chucker Jones….tehe….see what I did there?
Dollar: You make your idiocy pretty hard to ignore. And what’s impossible to ignore is the fact that Tay-Tay has just been ripped in two by the spear…and the chances of naming her own referee at the pay-per-view have just been ripped right out of her clutches.
Tay-Tay is in the worse pain of her entire life as she curls around her stomach is now pinned by the Rising Phoenix, both legs slowly hooked by an exhausted Savior. Laymon debates his options but eventually falls to the canvas and slaps the ring.
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As inconceivable as it may be…Chase kicks out of the Bloodline Spear, something that very…very few people can claim that they’ve done.
Savior’s fed up to put it lightly…especially with the speed of the official’s three count. His eyes turn towards Laymon, who is backing away with palms held up in a defensive posture….insisting that if Christian gets himself disqualified Rose will NOT be the special guest referee at Upping the Ante.
Savior lets cooler heads prevail. He turns back towards Tay-Tay, who is crawling across the ring, desperate to get away from Christian so that she can recover. She is so very slowly employing the ropes to reach her feet while Savior gets ready, palms to his knees and ferocious intent in his eyes…one more spear should do it…should conclude this very grueling match.
He takes off across the ring and begins to lunge forward into the spear when Tay-Tay suddenly side steps him, but also swings around behind his back while catching hold of his shoulders. She leaps into the air, wedging both knees to Christian’s spine and bringing him down into the back cracker.
Savior stands up straight and arches his back…his very traumatized back at that. He then limps around, turning to face Chase who goes airborne a second time, wedging knees to her opponent’s face and dropping to her knees with a modification of the code breaker.
Dollar: This is your chance Tay-Tay…go for the pin…GO FOR THE PIN!
Susie: And then name me as your surrogate to go on a date with Bob..PLEASE!
The lethal combination has left Christian unconscious and Tay-Tay in almost the exact same state….having hit the momentum shifter out of sheer desperation. The aggressive nature of this match has left Chase incapable of doing little more than drawing breaths. He lungs fill with oxygen and her muscles are rejuvenated enough to compel her upward. She just reaches her feet as Christian grabs the ropes, employing them to get his knees beneath him when Tay-Tay rushes in from behind and leaps into the air. Her posterior is thrown into the back of Christian’s head, but he then ducks out of the way, causing her to fly through the cables to the apron.
She grabs the top rope and lets her legs dangle over the mats before skinning the cat back into the ring. She throws her legs over the top rope only to have Christian catch them on top of his shoulder. He then pulls her back so that she’s stretched ribs first over his shoulder, then turns and rushes across the ring, looking for a running bulldog. But Taylor swings around out of it, catches Christian around the neck and counters into a downward spiral, planting the Phoenix’s face against canvas.
Dollar: An absolutely beautiful counter by Tay-Tay….but can that even be enough to finish off the Phoenix?
Susie: Semi-Auto weapons are so easy to purchase on-line…why not just one of those in these cases?
Neither Savior nor Chase are moving after the physicality they’ve inflicted on one another…even their skin hurting them at this point. Taylor slowly begins to turn to her side while Christian is doing the same. Chase crawls to one side of the ring, while Christian makes his way to the other. The two employ opposite ropes to reach their feet when Christian turns, from the corner of his eye spotting a prone Chase, realizing this is just his opportunity. He slowly bends forward, wedges hands to his knees and prepares to unleash the dreaded….Bloodline Spear.
Dollar: Don’t turn around Tay-Tay…for the love of all that is good and holy…don’t turn around…..and believe me…being the PG Johnny D….I know a thing or two about good and holy.
Susie: Can’t wait to see you team with Pornoy Porn to form the Million-Dollar Faces at Upping the Ante…should be so awesome.
Dollar: Don’t you dare undersell it…But the pay-per-view won’t be very awesome for Taylor Chase…not if Christian hits this.
Anticipation is building…pulses rates are quickening…hearts are thumping through chests….and all because…all due to the move Christian is about to finish Tay-Tay off with….But wait…his ankle is caught and his legs are ripped right out from under hi before being dragged to the outside of the ring. He lands on his feet in front of a man wearing a black mask but warm gear identical to the one that Orlando Cruze was wearing throughout the night.
Christian rushes forward to hit him with a right hand only to be caught across the chest and heaved into the Rock Bottom. It doesn’t take long for Laymon to react, instantly calling for the bell and disqualifying Taylor due to the outside interference of this masked man in the Orlando running suit.
Dollar: What in the blue blazes of Lucifier’s balls did we just see? Orlando Cruze…shamefully trying to hide his face behind that ski mask so as not to get fired for interfering…has just come out here and Rock Bottomed Savior. Has he any idea what he’s done?
Susie: Made running suits look even more lame?
Dollar: Worse…he just got Tay-Tay disqualified…meaning that Rose Savior is going to be the special guest referee at Upping the Ante. Once again Cruze has reacted far too impulsively….to the total detriment of his love.
Tay-Tay looks confused as she leans on the ropes and hears the bell chiming in the background. She turns with eyes inhabited by bewilderment and settling them upon a smiling Laymon, who continues to call for the bell to be chimed. But the time keeper has gotten out of dodge as the ski mask wearing Orlando rushes towards them and grabs the World Heavyweight Title belt that was resting nearby.
Dollar; And it’s just like Frankie said….Orlando using Tay-Tay in order to steal back the World Championship…AGAIN!
Susie: That guy is as obsessed with the title as I am with glitter.
The Heavyweight Championship is raised aloft by Orlando, making sure to get the full undivided attention of Chase. Once her eyes are glued to him, and the belt above his head, Cruze takes off running, rushing towards the barrier and leaping over it into the crowd. He then rushes through the fans with the World Title over his shoulder.
Dollar: Well Orlando has just found a way to circumvent the rules here….once again bending them to his own misbegotten gains. Drake said there could be no outside interference…as anyone who got involved in this match would be fired…but Orlando wore that mask out here in order to take out Christian and to steal back the World Championship…in the process getting Tay-Tay disqualified…I don’t know if he truly understands what he just did to Tay-Tay.
Chase is flipping out in the ring, glaring into the crowd at the fleeing Orlando, who is still holding the World Title above his head repeatedly. Christian has crawled into the barricade, standing up with a knee beneath him as he glares into the crowd, lips almost foaming as he turns downright feral.
Tay-Tay: What did you do….WHAT DID YOU DO!?!
Chase is grabbing at her hair, about to tear it asunder from her skull.
Dollar: This situation so….sooooo….screwed up. Orlando yet again running off with the World Heavyweight Title and leaving Chase twisting in the wind in the process.
That same sigil that results in such digestive woes for Mika Kozlov is under great scrutiny…great scrutiny by two…okay…three if you count Greyson Lovejoy…individuals standing not directly below it…but a few inches off to its side.
Sparkles: So maggots you say?
Sparkles is propped in the arms of Lovejoy, as the two get a close up view of the emblem…Mark Comeau however, is a bit more tentative to near the said sigil, standing behind a crate a few feet away.
Mark: Yep…they just kept pouring out of her….
Sparkles: Neat…
Greyson: Now Sparkles…you know what happened the last time we played around with the occult.
Sparkles: So what if I set fire to the neighbors cat….the pussy had it coming. Besides…I’m far more experienced now.
Greyson: I hardly think watching Supernatural on DVD properly prepares you for dealing with the occult.
Sparkles: I also watched Hocus Pocus…because there’s just something about Bette Midler’s boobs I find absolutely enchanting.
Out of our way sock puppet!
Both Greyson and Sparkles are shoved aside as Adam Chase storms down the corridor flanked by Hugo Magnusson and Bash Kincaid…the pair looking naked without their Tag Team Title belts.
Sparkles: Hey horse-face…watch where you and your two Gimps are going.
The dismayed…disgruntled…and disgraced Chase stops cold in his tracks, then lifts fingers above his head, snapping them. At once Hugo and Bash step to Greyson’s sides, placing hands on his shoulders and one on top of Sparkles’ green afro.
Chase: What makes you think you have the right to speak to me…me…the LA Boy…the future owner of this and every other major wrestling promotion the world over….One day your going to be working for me…if your lucky…and I…along with the TCWC…we have a nasty habit of holding grudges…
Sparkles: Why does your hand smell like cabbage?
Hugo removes his palm from Sparkles’ head and smells it.
Greyson: Please excuse my cohort here…he has poor impulse control.
Chase: I would suggest you work a little harder at keeping him in check…especially if either of you want future employment in the Chase wrestling dynasty.
Sparkles: Kinda hard to start a dynasty if you can’t even hold onto your belts.
Though Adam would like to have Greyson and Sparkles crushed like peanuts in the massive palms of his opponents…he stifles his anger…taking a deep breath in a vain attempt to soothe himself.
Chase: The night isn’t over as of yet….that challenge I made earlier tonight…it still stands….The TCWC is entitled to a rematch for the Tag Team Titles…and we’re invoking that rematch clause…NEXT.
Hugo and Bash unleash the puppet and ventriloquist, wanting to put their hands on someone else…namely Yvonne Knight and Kathryn Pearson.
Chase: We WILL walk away from this show tonight the same way he arrived…with the tag team titles in our possession.
Chase glances up at the sigil and shakes his head over the occult antics of the Black Crusade before embarking towards the ring, following his clients.
Dollar: Did we just hear that correctly? Are the TCWC about to challenge for the Tag Team Titles? Are they using their rematch against Unity already?
Harrison: Jesus Christ of Nazareth…
A crucifix hangs from the fingers of Aaron Harrison as he stands in the space backstage traditionally reserved for interviews. But there is no one around brave enough to question Harrison, leaving him to conduct his own…uninterrupted speech.
Harrison: In just a few moments you’re going to hear that name. spoken…..shouted…SCREAMED….not just by the fans…but Orlando Cruze…as he drops to his knees and prays…and prays…..and prays…be it to Jesus…to God…Buddha….Shiva….or whatever other deity or devotee he prescribes to. But he’ll find that his prayers go unanswered…he’ll find his faith unrewarded….Because the celestial bodies above…the Clarence’s…the Della Reese’s…all the angels are on MY shoulders…they’re answering MY prayers….
The crucifix is pulled to his lips and kissed.
Harrison: And what was the prayer that they answered? What was it I begged God…or Abraham….or Samhain….for? It was a match…Orlando…a match against you.
A soured expression overcomes his face, beginning to spit as if he just tasted something disgusting.
Harrison: But you know….
He suddenly throws the crucifix into the wall, watching as it bounces off the concrete to the floor below.
Harrison: Unlike you…I don’t rest on the power of prayer…I don’t need help from anyone…be it on earth…or the heavens above…to get what I want…I don’t use others…I use this….
He taps his temple to gesture to his brain.
Harrison: My cunning…my skill…my honesty and work-rate has got me to this moment…to this match…one I’ve been waiting for for so very long. And it just doesn’t stop there, does it Orlando…nooooo….cause not only am I going to help those in the heavenly bodies above by purging this world of its great Satan in that tag match tonight…but at the pay-per-view…I shall SAVE the World Heavyweight Title…and then….then what’s left of you after this evening‘s main event, Orlando, shall be dealt with one on one…when the two of us FINALLY…at looooong last have our singles confrontation…The one the whole world has been waiting to see… The one match allowing me to finally exorcise this company‘s demon…
Aaron pulls back his head to look towards the ceiling.
Harrison: Believe Orlando….BELIEVE…Believe that your sins have come back to haunt you…Believe that the Blacklist may have suffered slings and arrows…but our crucifixion has created a more powerful…ethereal being….one that cannot be harmed by mortal instruments…Our souls…our devotion to not Gods, but the cause, cannot be challenged. For you have brought down the wrath of the Blacklist upon thee, Orlando….and heavy will be the head that wears the crown of thorns.
The smile on Aaron’s face is about as disturbing as the castration scene from Hard Candy.
The show returns to the interior of the Grand Ballroom, fixated on Hugo Magnusson and Bash Kincaid, the TCWC entering the ring with Adam Chase already on the apron, clutching a microphone.
Dollar: Well it looks like Adam Chase is following through…he’s got Hugo and Bash out here ready to compete for the Tag Team Titles. He said right before the break that the TCWC would be cashing in their rematch clause, and that’s precisely what these idiots are about to do. They don’t realize what their getting themselves into…do they?
Susie: Meaning?
Dollar: If they regain those tag team titles they’ll have no other alternative but to face Johnny Dollar and Porno Lad for those belts at Upping the Ante. And they want no part…no part of the world’s most exceptional tag team.
Susie: Have you two even teamed together yet?
Dollar: Yes..didn’t you see our handicap match earlier tonight…we made a fantastic pairing.
Susie: Erm…yeah.
The microphone in Adams’ hand is put to good use….depending on whom you ask.
Chase: Unity….girls….I’ve got it in writing…Desmond Drake signed off on it personally under the threat of a lawsuit. So either get out here and defend those tag tam titles against Hugo and Bash…or you forfeit the championships….
Dollar: Whoa…Looks like Yvonne and Kathryn have no other alternative at this point.
Susie: Not if they want to keep their sparkly mega brights.
Bash is pacing as Hugo whispers into his ear, trying to calm the seething beast, but Kincaid will not be soothed…cannot be soothed…his rage cannot be contained. The flames of hatred burn within his eyes and there is absolutely nothing…nothing that will douse them. The rage only burns with more intensity when the entrance to the Unity’s team plays through the speakers and through the curtains pass both Kathryn Pearson and Yvonne Knight, the ladies holding up their tag team championships to an incredible amount of fanfare.
Dollar: And the ladies who have done so much so soon are coming out here to defend the Tag Team Titles for the second time tonight…though this will actually mark the fourth time the belts have been on the line this evening.
Susie: Glad you could do the math…it was too taxing on my brain.
Dollar: Yes..we all know how much you hate math…But let’s look at the numbers here a little closer. The TCWC, they’ve wrestled once…Yvonne and Kathryn…they’ve already went at it twice this evening…meaning that they are no fresh posies headed into this…
Another rude interuption…thanks to…Brittany Lohan and Cassidy Haze. Forearms are driven between the shoulder blades of Pearson and Knight. Unity…taking a united dive right to the stage, and eventually rolling down the ramp and towards the ring.
Dollar: It’s Lohan…it’s Haze…Dark Legacy attacking the Tag Team Champions!
The crowd is stunned at the sight of Lohan…who even after having her head sandwiched in the doors of the ambulance…still has the strength to get physical.
Dollar: Lohan getting revenge on Pearson, who once again meddled in her affairs last week…..and Haze…she’s joining on this…just because. These ladies were supposed to challenge for the Tag Team Titles earlier tonight..,but the Blacklist took Lohan out backstage, and then they ruined Haze‘s opportunity at the belt. I guess Unity suffering for the sins of the Blacklist right now.
Unity continue to be assaulted by the Dark Legacy in a totally unexpected, not to mention, unprovoked attack.. Already Lohan has Pearson back up on her feet and by the wrist whips her into the steel steps. She turns and crashes hard shoulder first…that very same shoulder that took a nasty bump against the wall last week thanks to the Blacklist. Ivy tries to fight back…TRIES…but fails….due to exhaustion from her previous match coupled with this unforeseen assault.
She’s plucked from the mats and then given a stiff scoop slam right across the thin protective matting by the smirking Cassidy. She then snatches hold of Knight’s bangs, leads her up to her feet and drives her skull first into the ring steps. Lohan then wedges a shoulder into Pearson’s stomach and drives her spine into the barrier. Kathryn collapses to her knees, an arm falling over the top of the barricade to just barely hold her up. Which proves to be a very bad thing, considering it puts her in position for Lohan to rush in, drive her knee into the face of Kathryn, and crush her skull against the barrier.
Dollar: And the Dark Legacy just continues to pulverize our new Tag Team Champions…Unity being viciously assaulted here by the vengeful Lohan and her protégé.
Brittany bends down to get into the face of a barely conscious Pearson, leaning in with hands on her knees.
Lohan: What’s wrong, you don’t look very happy to see me. Why is that? I mean, we’re supposed to be girlfriends, right?
A huge smile forms on Lohan’s face, rehashing the same statements uttered by Pearson sarcastically last week. Haze is still kicking at Ivy while she’s wedged against the steel steps, putting boot after boot against her before Lohan grabs her by the back of the neck, pulling her back and ending her pupil’s fun.
Dollar: Unity left in absolutely no condition to defend those Tag Team Titles….they’ve been maliciously assaulted by Haze and Lohan….if Dark Legacy isn’t leaving with the belts tonight…I guess nobody is.
Susie: Not even me?
Dollar: Especially not you.
The Dark Legacy walk away with a twisted gleam in their eyes before Adam looks between his clients and nods. Hugo and Bash roll to the outside of the ring and pounce on the tag team champions, putting the boots to their downtrodden bodies. All the while GM Laymon watches from the ring in his striped shirt, doing absolutely nothing to stop a second mugging from taking place on Unity.
Dollar: And it looks like Laymon isn’t about to do a damned thing about this…he’s gonna let this match continue, even though Unity has been absolutely brutalized by Dark Legacy….Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got to take a commercial break…but stay tuned…we’ll have this tag team title match…up next.
The crowd watches on pins and needles as Hugo bounces Yvonne’s head off of the apron and Bash throws Kathryn up into a gorilla press and slams her down on top of the steel barricade. Clearly Unity is in no condition…no shape whatsoever to fight…but it isn’t about to stop them from defending their tag team titles…virtuous even till the end…which might very well happen…in mere moments.
Back live on Riot!, and we see Knight diving through the ropes right into your laps at home…it seems…but as she flies at the camera she also connects with a suicide diving forearm to the face of Magnusson outside of the ring. Referee Executioner watches with intent eyes through the slits of his mask.
Dollar: HUGE diving forearm from Yvonne Knight…we’re back live in the midst of a Tag Team Title rematch between the TCWC and Unity. Let’s take you back and show you how this all came about tonight.
MOMENTS AGO
Bash Kincaid has a steel chair in hand, and instead of going for the win, he goes to punish Pearson, swinging the steel at the back of her head. But at the last second Kathryn clears the path of the chair, allowing it to collide with the ropes, and causing it to ricochet backwards into the face of Kincaid. Bash is so disorientated that he staggers right back into the Cool It, Bitch, allowing Pearson and Knight to capture the IWC Tag Team Titles.
Dollar: Stunning doesn’t even begin to describe what happened earlier tonight. Yvonne Knight, and Kathryn Pearson goaded Adam Chase and the TCWC into defending their Tag Team Titles, and then…to make matters all the more shocking, Pearson actually PINNED Bash Kincaid in order to capture the belts. But TCWC made a challenge for a rematch that was finally accepted just before our break…and when Unity made their way out here as conquering champions they were deposed by Dark Legacy..
As Ivy and Kathryn bask in the adulation and the spotlight, holding their Tag Titles up high, their jumped from behind by Lohan and Haze. We see Knight scoop slammed on the mats and Lohan delivering a running knee to Kathryn’s face, crushing it against the steel barricade. Adam Chase surveys the damage beyond the ropes with a smile on his face.
Dollar: And that brings us to this…the Tag Team Titles on the line as Unity defends against TCWC….and to my surprise, Knight is surprisingly holding her own even after two matches tonight, and that gruesome attack by Dark Legacy.
Back to the action we go with Knight on top of Magnusson outside the ring, throwing right hand after right hand into his face. Surprisingly Fitzpatrick has the unstable Bash contained, keeping him in his corner…while Kathryn takes this moment to recover in her own corner, ailing from the numerous blows she’s taken throughout the previous match and the mugging afterwards.
Therefore they both settle for watching as Knight pulls Magnusson to his feet and whips him into the apron. Hugo turns and collides with the apron forcefully, almost going over but keeping his wobbly legs beneath him….beneath him just long to catch the inbound Knight. He places hands under Knight’s thighs and throws her up over his head. He has no idea that Yvonne has landed on the apron though, not learning this until he turns around and gets a big mule kick to the cheek.
Knight then dives through the ropes, tucks her head, and rolls forward across the canvas straight onto her feet. She then takes off running across the ring, ricocheting from the far ropes and building momentum behind another big dive. She lunges right through the ropes, traveling directly into Hugo’s bicep via the Europeean Uppercut, catching her in mid-air.
Fans: OHHHHHH!
Dollar: Ivy went for another dive…right into a European Uppercut out of nowhere by Magnusson. That may have just severed her head from shoulders.
Susie: I call dibs on it then. It would make a wonderful conversation piece sitting on my coffee room table…I could even use her head as a makeshift candy dish.
Dollar: Something tells me you’d probably have to fight Lohan over ownership of it.
The crowd is still cringing and expressing hype over that last death defying dive ending so badly for Knight. Before she can even begin to recover, Hugo descends on her, drags her up to her feet and nails another Euro Uppercut, this one sending her twisting into the apron. She rolls in under the ropes and Hugo slides in after her. He then leaps high into the air and comes down foot first across Yvonne’s face. The ill effects of that post match attack by Dark Legacy is definitely coming back to haunt Ivy at this point. Exhaustion mixed with pain is creating a very bad concoction for Unity, who were not expecting to put their belts on the line so soon after winning them.
The man who coerced them into this situation is tagged in, Hugo slapping the palm of Kincaid before he departs the ring and lets the Fist take over. Bash slides into the ring and then rushes right at Ivy, taking her by the waistband of her tights and actually lifting her right off the canvas before throwing her towards her partner.
Pearson looks confused as she looks down at Yvonne lying in front of her and sees Bash gesturing for her to bring her little ass into the ring.
Bash: Tag her!
He slaps his palms together to pantomime a tag being made.
Dollar: Kincaid wants Pearson….and no one else….he wants his hands on the woman who just pinned his shoulders to the canvas. If Chase were an agent of my skill, he would know how to keep an unruly personality like Bash’s under control.
Susie: Slapping him on the nose with a rolled up newspaper might help.
A tag is indeed made, Pearson wanting her hands on Bash just as badly as he wants to get his on her. She then springs to the top rope and takes flight, soaring across the ring into a big lariat only to have Bash catch her coming in around the waist. Pearson is stunned before she’s heaved into the air, twisted and driven into the ring with a belly to belly slam.
Clearly Pearson isn’t thinking too clearly after having her head sandwiched between the barricade and Lohan’s knee, hence why she just fell right into Bash’s clutches. Kincaid gets to his knees, pulls up on Pearson’s bangs and begins to drive closed first after closed fist directly against her face, looking to tarnish her good looks.
Bash leads Pearson along to her knees and delivers a devastating forearm over her upper back. She goes right back down to the canvas and now Kincaid drops down, taking her by the back of the head and wedging her face against the canvas. He begins to grind her nose across the canvas back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He lifts up on her skull and gets into her face, holding her under the jaw.
Bash: Beauty doesn’t equal talent…bimbo. You don’t get over on looks in these parts, sweety.
By the hair Kathryn is led to her feet and then taken around the neck, placed in a cravat. Knee after knee connects with her prone face, bringing Kathryn closer and closer to the brink of unconsciousness. He then looks at Chase, who is slapping the apron ferociously.
Chase: Just finish her already….FINISH her.
Bash rolls his eyes and then twists around into a roaring elbow to put an end to Pearson only to have his arm caught from behind. Eyes bulge from their sockets as Kincaid turns furiously towards Yvonne, who caught him from behind and refuses to let him go. Kincaid swings around with his free fist and Yvonne ducks at the last second, causing the momentum of his swing to send Bash into a full circle. He turns back towards his opponents when Pearson delivers a step up enzugari to the back of his head at the same time that Yvonne connects with the super kick.
Dollar: Beautiful tandem offense from Unity…..you know…I have quite a few of these at my disposal as well…I’m quite the expert when it comes to all aspects of wrestling….including the tag team department…wink…wink..Porno Lad.
Susie: Are you actually supposed to say ‘wink, wink?’ I just thought you did it.
Dollar: Well Porno Lad actually can’t hear me winking, so I have to verbalize it. Anyway, Unity taking back control.
Kincaid staggers around but is not taken down, not until Pearson stands, soothes her shoulder and rushes into the ropes in front of him. She bounces off then leaps into the air, hitting a flying lariat at the same time that Knight drops shoulder first into the crease of Kincaid’s knee. Both moves connect with enough force to send Bash to the canvas, suffering the over under.
Pearson then rolls to her feet just as Knight makes her exit at the request of the official. But as Fitzpatrick is distracted by Knight, Hugo enters the fray. He rushes right at Pearson, only to have her slide directly between his legs, pop back up to her feet and then charge into the ropes behind him, diving through to the apron then leaping to the top one and taking flight. Just as Hugo spins around he’s cracked in the forehead with a flying forearm smash that makes the fans blow all air out of their lungs.
Hugo is down, but Kathryn is up, just in time to be caught by the top of her head in the clutches of a recovered Kincaid. He pulls her by the bangs into a right hand that Kathryn ducks, hooking the crease of his elbow in the process then leaping into the air, swinging around his back, catching him around the neck and planting him with a float over DDT.
Bash flips over, landing on his seat and looking like he just got hit on the noggin with a frying pan. Kincaid looks stunned by the collision with the canvas, flipping over to his seat as eyes roll to the back of his head. Then Pearson rises to her feet and gets another running start only to have Hugo catch from behind by the waistband, dragging her back into his clutches. He catches her under both arms and then hoists her up into the air for another full nelson only to have Pearson transition in mid-air, catching him around the back of the neck and countering into a face first slam right on top of her raised knee.
Dollar: The training is really starting to pay off….Pearson showing that she’s come so far so quickly under the tutelage of Yvonne Knight.
Speaking of Knight, she’s seen enough, scrambling into the ring then diving into the air, traveling knee first right into the chest of Magnusson. The diving knee knocks him backwards into the ropes and spilling through them to the outside mats. At the same time Bash is getting to his feet, grabbing the shoulder of Knight, spinning her around and delivering a boot to her ribs. But wait…no….Ivy catches it before it connects with her gut, then pushes it down, sending him spinning into the clutches of Pearson.
Kathryn catches him with a drop toe hold, planting him on the canvas while Knight rushes past her partner and opponent into the ropes. She ricochets off, comes back in and flips forward, catching Bash under the jaw and lifting up on his head. Pearson then bounces off the very ropes her partner just lunged off, diving into a front dropkick that nails Bash hard square to the face.
Dollar: A version of the Four Seasons connects, and Unity retakes control. They seem to have an answer for absolutely everything that is thrown at them by The Chase Wrestling Collective.
Susie: When it doubt, just fill in ‘c.’ Works every time.
Dollar: What if it’s not multiple choice?
Susie: Damn.
Bash rolls to his back and Pearson crawls towards her corner where Yvonne has retaken in position in her team’s corner. Ivy’s hand is slapped and she immediately ascends to the top rope, waiting patiently for Bash to get up. Kincaid slowly reaches his feet when out of the corner flies Knight, nailing a front dropkick right to the jaw of the former Tag Team Champion.
Dollar: And another dropkick…this one connecting from the top rope and putting Bash to the canvas.
Bash has bit his lip, drawing some blood down his chin. He turns to his side and starts to stand up when Yvonne rushes into the far ropes, moments from ricocheting off when a steel chair cracks her right to the lower back. The fans are absolutely disgusted at the sight of Gavin Taylor standing on the outside of the ring with weapon in hand and a twisted expression on his face.
Dollar: Chair to the kidneys…Gavin Taylor just swung for the fences…
Susie: Then his eyesight must be for shit…cause he hit Ivy instead of the fences.
Dollar: Taylor nailing Ivy with that chair…this must be what he meant when he told Chase that he still had the opportunity to make amends…cause he just made amends in a major…MAJOR way.
Ivy staggers forth clutching at her kidneys, walking right behind Laymon who is still in discussion with Chase, trying to convince him to vacate the apron. The distraction continues to pay off as it kept Laymon from seeing the shot with the steel chair, but he does see what happens next, as Bash swoops in behind Knight, catches her arms and full nelson slams her down to the canvas. He then crawls into the lateral press while Kathryn tries to enter the ring and save her partner only to have her ankle caught in the clutches of Hugo, who was hanging outside of the ring.
Dollar; And the full nelson from Kincaid, capitalizing on the injured back of Knight. Can she kick out of this…can she do it again!?!
Both legs are hooked as the referee, Executioner goes to answer Johnny’s question.
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The answer is no…no…no! Knight just doesn’t have it left in her to get a shoulder up, meaning the TCWC has just reclaimed the Tag Team Titles on the very same night they lost them.
Dollar: And we have yet another title switch hands. The Tag Team Titles going back to the TCWC!
Susie: How many people get to play with the belts…when will it be OUR turn?
Dollar: Well my turn is now set in stone…looks like when Porno Lad and I WILL challenge for the Tag Team Titles at Upping the Ante now that the TCWC have the belts back in their possession.
The bell chimes in the background in recognition of the referee’s verdict, and the official announcement is now made….Hugo and Bash have just become the NEW Tag Team Champions. They celebrate, albeit on the outside of the ring, given the fact that Pearson is ready to rip them apart. Instead of tearing the two to shreds, Kathryn is checking on the condition of her partner, stooped over Knight and trying to snap some sense into her. Ivy regains her faculties long enough to spot Chase moseying around the ring with the Tag Title belts in his hands before handing them over to Bash and Hugo. She even notices Gavin lingering on the stage with a smirk on his face before finally stepping through the curtains, mission accomplished.
Kincaid and Magnusson raise the gold aloft and begin to cackle like harpies to themselves, lamenting over their victory, and over the defeat of Unity. Knight sits up holding her back from the splitting pain while Kathryn rubs her shoulders, trying to calm her down.
But Knight cannot, or will not be consoled. She snaps her fingers and shouts at Jessica at ringside. But there is no Wilde at ringside to give her the microphone…still missing after she took residency under the ring to prevent being grabbed by the Blacklist. Therefore the time keeper hand delivers the microphone into the ring.
Dollar: It appears as if Unity now has something to say.
Susie: I’m surprised she can talk after taking such a nasty blow to the face…and I know a thing or two about nasty blows.
Dollar: I’m sure you do…probably have ended up with quite a bit of baby gravy in your face.
Hugo and Bash continue to celebrate their win while Chase slaps them…not in the faces….but on their backs to commemorate this win.
Knight: BOYS!
The trio freezes on the ramp as they glare back at Ivy who can barely stand but is still able to string together some sentences.
Knight: This…this isn’t over…
She loses her balance and falls to her knees while holding out the microphone to Pearson, insisting she finish her thought. With a grimace Kathryn lifts the mic and begins to bark at the TCWC, but has proven she’s got a much more vicious bite.
Pearson: My girl and I…we aren’t finished. If you can get away with cashing in your rematch clause…then guess what….so can we…
Chase is already shaking his head, vehemently opposing this idea before Unity can even finish their pitch.
Pearson: We’re using our rematch clause…and we’re using it now. Get back in here and face us for the titles.
Dollar: WHOA! Really now? We’re about to see a FOURTH Tag Team Title match here tonight?
Even though the masses want to see it, Chase has never been one to placate the people. Bash and Hugo EVEN want this match to take place, especially Kincaid, who is all angst ridden and determined to get back into the ring. He doesn’t make it very far though, as he’s held back by his agent.
Chase: No….we’ve proven our point to these hags. We don’t work for free…now let’s get to stepping….
Though they don’t like it, Bash and Hugo begin to make their departure….one that is hampered by the influence of Porno Lad and the Trailer Park Kid. The fans leap around oh so excitedly as the two pounce on The Chase Wrestling Collective.
Dollar: Porno Lad and TPKid attacking the Tag Team Champions from behind. They’ve got the pounce on Hugo and Bash!
Susie: Team Super-Fro has got the drop on Team Bald & Perm.
Hugo and Bash have no idea what’s happening as they are clubbed to the upper backs, and then spun around into rights and lefts to their faces. PL and TPKid look to make a lasting impression on the Champions just weeks shy of Upping the Ante, where they will be one of three teams to challenge for the tag titles. Black Magic Woman watches form the stage with crossed arms and an arched eyebrow, as her man TPKid and the legendary Porno Lad put the fists to the champs, who thus far are unable to defend themselves….given the duration of time they’ve spent fighting here tonight thus far.
Bash and Hugo try to put up their arms in defense, but it proves futile against this onslaught from Porno Lad and the Trailer Park Kid, who have the champions reeling. Chase can’t believe what he’s seeing, hands on top of his head, ready to rip his hair out at the sight of his clients being punished by one of the challenging teams at Upping the Ante.
Finally Hugo and Bash dart back into the ring in order to protect themselves….a very big lapse in judgment, because they put themselves directly into the crosshairs of Unity.
The kneeling Hugo and Bash are pounced on by Pearson and Knight, who are unloading with forearm shots to the upper back and punches to their opponents’ faces. Referee Laymon then shrugs and motions for the bell, eliciting a full on freak out from Chase at ringside. Adam leaps to the apron and is flopping around like a man suffering an elliptic seizure.
Chase: We didn’t agree to this…we didn’t agree to this dammit!
Dollar: I think Laymon has just signaled for the bell…meaning we ARE going to see TCWC versus Unity for the Tag Team Titles for the THIRD straight time.
Susie: Un-friggin-real!
The bell continues to chime while Porno Lad and TPKid continue to back up the ramp, both men grinning as they join Black Magic Woman on the stage. Instead of playing the part of victimizers, they turn into viewers, watching the confrontation unfold and watching Chase go into a full on tirade.
In spite of everything Chase says, the official has made his decision and this match is underway. The crowd is breathless as Pearson and Yvonne take Bash by his wrists, leading him up to his feet and simultaneously swinging under his arms. They then connect with buzz saw kicks to the creases of both his knees, bringing him down to the canvas. They then swing back around under the arms and nail a second double buzz saw kick to the chest.
Bash remains kneeling, grimacing from the pain before Ivy steps to one side of him, and Pearson to the other. They simultaneously step forward, delivering stereo roudhouse kicks to both sides of Bash’s head, squishing his cranium between their shins.
Kincaid falls to his elbows and knees when Pearson and Yvonne rush into the ropes at both his sides. They ricochet off the cables and then simultaneously lunge forth into stereo front dropkicks, squashing his head once again.
Dollar: And Unity is absolutely fired up…they’ve held the belts and now they want to do everything in their power to reclaim that glory.
Susie: I’d do everything in my power to be with the belts too….I love them in spite of barely even knowing them…It was love at first sight.
Hugo scrambles back into the fold…charging up behind Pearson and knocking her to the back of her skull with a running European Uppercut. The impact sends Kathryn flipping forward and collapsing to her back while Hugo spins around to face Ivy, who lunges forward into a front dropkick once again….this time connecting to Magnusson’s knee. She then rolls over backwards to her feet and leaps into the air, landing on top of Hugo’s shoulders before snapping over backwards into a hurricarana piledriver…..slamming the top of Hugo’s head viciously against the canvas.
Dollar: Oh SNAP!
Susie: I think that’s the sound that Hugo’s neck just made.
Dollar: A hurri-driver by Ivy on a kneeling Hugo. The TCWC have not recovered from that attack by Porno Lad and TPKid…they just can’t get themselves back into this.
That certainly seems to be the case as Ivy pushes Hugo to his back and crawls into the cover. At this point Executioner doesn’t care about legal participants, he’s willing to make the count for anyone. He drops down and slaps the canvas.
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Somehow…someway…as inconceivable as it may be to believe…Hugo gets that shoulder up…staving off defeat at the last possible second.
Dollar: TCWC hanging in there, Susie…even after what just happened to Hugo..
Chase remains spastic outside of the ring, pissing and moaning as he storms back and forth, watching the plight of his clients. The Tag Team Champions hang in there in spite of the attack at the hands of TPKid and Porno Lad…and in spite of having wrestled for the third time tonight..though this is the fourth confrontation for Unity.
Knight steps around to Hugo’s legs at this point and begins to wrap them around her own in order to apply the sharpshooter when Bash rushes in at her side, delivering a big running boot right to the side of her face. Knight is knocked into a spin, twirling into the turnbuckle and falling against it.
She looks incredibly dazed as Bash comes barreling in, leaping into a big splash that engulfs Knight, squishing her between his body and the turnbuckle. Knight looks shaken up but not taken out, her legs buckling as she slides down out of the corner. Bash then takes her by the hair, leading her out of the corner and spinning around into a roaring elbow only to have Pearson rush in and push Knight out of the way, taking the impact of the elbow against her own face. Kathryn collapses to the ring and Bash looks down at her with a huge smirk forming on his face.
Bash: You misguided little bitc…
Knight cuts him off by leaping into the air and catching him with a backstabber. Bash bounces off of the knees and tumbles to the canvas to a rousing response from the crowd. But just before she can capitalize, Hugo steps in, grabs her by the ankle and pulls her over into a backwards roll. She ends up on her feet just as Magnusson begins to pepper her with a variety of strikes, nailing multiple palm thrusts to her ribs and her shoulders and her forehead. Yvonne looks all shaken up by Hugo, who now takes her around the waist and heaves her up into the air for a gut wrench power bomb only to have Knight end up seated on his shoulders then snapping back into another hurricarana.
This time Hugo has it scouted, shouting no…no…no…before he heaves Ivy back up into the air, only to have her slip free, catch Magnusson around the neck and drag him around into a DDT. Hugo’s head is driven into the canvas again with tremendous force, sending him flipping over to his back.
Dollar: Hugo SPIKED again on top of his head…this guy is lucky if he makes it out of here without a serious concussion.
Hugo is down and gasping for air as Knight slowly crawls across the canvas, desperate to make the pin…desperate to restore the Unity to the top of the tag team heap. She overcomes everything…the multiple slams…the devastating bumps…the attack at the hands of Dark Legacy..and three separate matches to crawl into the cover and throw an arm across the chest of Hugo.
All hope seems lost for the Tag Team Champions as Executioner is right on the verge of making a three count. Just before he can do this, Chase leaps into the ring, rushes up to Executioner and delivers an open hand slap right to his face.
The masked behemoth spins his ferocious eyes back towards Chase, who not just leaves the ring but leaves Executioner no other option, turning and gesturing for the bell..ending this match in a disqualification victory for Unity..but ensuring that the tag team titles stays with the TCWC.
Dollar: Adam Chase just got his team intentionally disqualified so that they would retain their tag team titles…that was actually kind of intelligent….I can’t fault him for that stroke of genius…even if the rest of his decisions have been so bone headed.
Susie: Like Sideshow Mel? He’s literally got a bone through his head?
The crowd doesn’t react to this all too favorably…their jaws collectively lifted from the floor as they watch Chase scramble around the ring and grab the Tag Team Titles, holding them aloft and shouting some all too familiar sentiment.
Chase: We did it…we did it…we did it!
Hugo and Bash instinctively roll out of the ring even though they have no idea what just happened…or where they even are at this point. Nevertheless the two men drop to the mats in front of Chase, who puts the championships over their shoulders. But the celebration doesn’t last long, cause Porno Lad and TPKid are headed down the ramp.
Dollar: yeah…you’re right Porno Lad…something needs to be done about this.
The headset slips off Johnny’s ears and he steps around the opposite side of the ring. The TCWC finds themselves surrounded…so Adam points into the crowd…prompting all three men to scatter over the barricade and through the screaming fans. This leaves Dollar staring across the mats into the face of TPKid, who Porno Lad is patting on the back. The Original Prankster then steps in and pats the shoulder of Johnny then pantomimes a title belt across his waist.
Susie: At last…another opportunity to do commentary with my plushie.
Within the ring Yvonne and Knight are discussing what went wrong and angrily setting their sights on the departing tag team champions….the two brutes holding the belts they worked so hard…fought so diligently to retain throughout the night.
The dressing room door pops open, held ajar by a pin striped Jacob Laymon so that Desmond Drake can step through. He moves to the corridor with a certain swagger in his step…quite enamored with himself…There probably wouldn’t be such confidence and arrogance exuded from Drake if it weren’t for the huge battalion of security guards waiting him. They just begin to exchange some friendly banter with the new President, before hearing something that is anything but friendly….They promptly leap around Desmond, forming a barrier between he and the malicious Rose Savior.
Rose: Come here…come here right now!
Rose tries to push her way through the human wall of burly bodyguards to get her hands around the head of Desmond and squeeze it until it pops like one of Mr. Hush’s balloon animals. But Drake wisely hangs back, with a look of true alarm inhabiting his features.
Rose: Get out from behind your little security force and face me, Desmond…you’re only making it worse on yourself the longer you make me stew in anticipation.
Desmond: What is this all about dear Rose?
Rose: As if you don’t know.
Desmond: I don’t have the fondest clue what’s got you so worked up…I thought you’d be rushing back here to give me another hug…like the one you gave me a couple months ago…after I gave the opportunity of a lifetime to referee that World Title match at Upping the Ante…
Rose: I don’t want it under these circumstances…at the expense of my husband….After what you had done to him.
Desmond’s eyes flutter.
Desmond: What I had done? Aren‘t you deflecting here a little sweetheart? Isn‘t Orlando Cruze the man you should truly be after right now? Wasn‘t he the one who went out and attacked Orlando….
Rose: Don’t feed me that garbage….Desmond….I know you’re just trying to play me…and play the rest of the roster. That so wasn’t Orlando Cruze in the ski mask…It’s just another of your tactics to turn everyone against Cruze, and to give you justification for firing him tonight…
Desmond: Is that so?
A tear seems to form in the corner of Desmond’s eye.
Desmond: It really..REALLY hurts me to hear you say that, Rose…to be so speculative of my motives…I thought you and I…we had developed something over the past few months…something beyond a simple boss…employee relationship.
It’s Rose’s turn to bat her eyes.
Rose: There’s only one relationship between us Desmond….the relationship between my fist and your face.
Desmond: Again…statements like that…they absolutely kill me….Rose….you should know that you can trust me….that I’m here to represent your best interests….that I’m here for YOU.
As if her eyes weren’t couldn’t be anymore batty.
Desmond: And I have no intention of firing Orlando Cruze tonight….no…that would be allowing him to get off way too easy for everything that he’s done to you…and to a lesser extent…that worthless puke you call a husband….I have something far more fitting in mind for the Icon…
From his pocket a set of handcuffs are raised and held up high enough for Rose to get a good view of them.
Desmond: I think you’ll truly enjoy it…my sweet….sweet Rose.
The wink directed towards Rose has her skin absolutely squirming to the point where it’s going to leap right off her body. He goes marching towards the ring with security continuing to surround him, cutting off any possible angle of attack for Savior. Therefore she just turns and watches…watches with eyes brimming with malicious intent.
Rose: There’s only one thing I’ll enjoy…Desmond.
The fans are affixed on the image of Taylor Chase stepping through the backstage area WITHOUT the World Heavyweight Championship. She paces back and forth with cellular phone in hand, glaring down at the screen and waiting…and waiting…and waiting for a response to her text. Instead of getting a reply in a preset number of characters…she gets one delivered face to face when she finds herself bumping right into the chest of the Icon.
Orlando: Tay-Tay…I’ve been waiting so long….
Tay-Tay; You’ve got some nerve.
Orlando’s face twinges with an expression of dismay.
Tay-Tay: What were you thinking? You just…you just….
Orlando: OH COME ON!
An angry verbose response was not one that Chase was anticipating.
Orlando: You seriously cannot be buying this bullshit? I saw what happened….Do you honestly think I would come to that ring and intentionally screw you over just to hold the World Championship again?
Tay-Tay: Honestly…I don’t know….
Such a crushing blow…one that didn’t need fists or boots…but mere syllables.
Orlando: You can’t be serious. What would I have to gain by making sure that Rose is the referee for your match at Upping the Ante? What…What!?! And why am I not standing here right now with the World Championship? And why would I be going out there to face Harrison and Paradise, if I didn’t care more about what happens to you than the state of the Heavyweight Championsh….
Tay-Tay: Who knows what’s going through your head half the time? You’ve kept so much from me….you’ve manipulated time and time again….you’re not exactly someone I’m too eager to trust.
Orlando: You should be…Because I’m the only one out to do what’s best for you…
Tay-Tay: I’m so sick of hearing that….only I know what’s best for me…and I don’t need others telling me what I need…and I don’t need…What’s best for me…and what’s not best for me…I’m my own person…and I’m nobody’s stooge.
Orlando: Well you’re acting like a stooge right now if you believe that was me who just ran out there and stole the World Title…don’t let yourself be played by…
His words are cut off just as he seems to be getting to Tay-Tay….cut off by the forearm delivered right to his upper back by Frankie Paradise. Before Cruze even knows what hit him, he drops to his elbows and knees, being pummeled with forearms to the upper back by Paradise. A stunned Tay-Tay stands back…as it takes a few moments for her to react…
Tay-Tay: What….what are you….what are you DOING!?!
She steps in to grab Frankie only to have her hands shoved away.
Frankie: I’m taking care of this once and for all…Tay-Tay…
Tay-Tay: Stop this…stop this…
Frankie: Someone has to look out for you.
Paradise begins to stand Cruze up only to have his arms swiped out of the way just like Tay-Tay’s moments ago. A right hand…followed by another…and then another is delivered by a vengeful Cruze…who has truly had enough tonight. Frankie tries t cover up but gets another shot that sends him twirling into the curtains and spilling through them.
Tay-Tay: That’s ENOUGH! STOP! STOOOP!
All Chase can do is watch with her hands on the verge of tearing hair right out of her scalp. The World Champion is on the verge of tears…not of the crocodile variety…as she watches Frankie and Orlando brawl through the curtains….
The fans get a first hand view of the violence between Paradise and Cruze…now assuming the role of Taylor as vocal spectators…Through the curtains spills Frankie, staggering to the stage with a dazed expression on his face. He then turns back to the curtains as Orlando steps through them and throws another big shot between Frankie’s eyes.
Dollar: Cruze and Paradise have lost all semblance of control…look at these two going at it…their trying to tear each other apart. This has been so long in the making.
Susie: Poor Tay-Tay…she can’t decide if she wants to be on Team Paradise….or Team Cruze…If she wants to be a glittery emo vamp who constantly looks like he just smelled pooh…or a hairy Lama looking werewolf.
Dollar: Seems these fans have made up their minds who they want to endorse…that being Orlando Cruze…no one convinced that he was the one who just stole that World Championship.
Frankie tries to answer back with a shot of his own but gets it blocked by Orlando, who then delivers a swift European Uppercut to his jaw. Paradise collapses into the apron as Cruze closes in upon him only to receive a thumb jab right to his eye. Cruze turns away, palming at his eye and leaving his back exposed to Frankie, who pushes him along shoulder first into the exposed turnbuckle post.
Cruze bounces off the steel clavicle first and then twists into the barricade, falling against it spine first. A grimace consumes Orlando’s face as he doubles forward grabbing at his arm. That’s when Frankie comes barreling towards him only to be drilled to the throat with a lariat to the shock of everyone…Paradise particularly.
Dollar: Clothesline from Cruze! Orlando so fired up in his first match back in the IWC…well…actually that match hasn’t even begun…and might not at this point.
Orlando picks Frankie up and throws him into the ring before following along. The beating is at last too much for Paradise to endure…realizing he’s gotten in over his head. He rises to his knees and extends palms towards Cruze, begging and pleading for mercy…to which he is about to receive none of. A grin sweeps over Orlando’s face…absolutely disgusted that Paradise would even make such a request. He pulls back his fist and truly savers this moment…this moment to crush Frankie’s face with his fist…but instead its his spine that is shattered…the Icon cracked over the back with a Singapore cane swung by Harrison…Aaron Harrison.
Dollar: And it looks like its time for Orlando to pay his penance…Harrison forcing him to suffer the slings and arrows of his many betrayals and manipulation of the roster.
Susie: If he hit him with that stick how come no skittles or candy fell out?
The Singapore cane is then swung once again over Orlando’s back, Harrison truly relishing this. The Icon falls to his spine with Frankie crawling towards him, getting right into his face.
Frankie: It’s about time you got what you had coming to you, bitch…You’re not using Tay-Tay anymore motherfucker…I’ll make sure of it…you hear me…you hear me?.
Now that Orlando is down Frankie turns off his filter…letting his venomous words flow and seep into Orlando’s wounds. Harrison throws the cane aside and cracks his knuckles, about to employ his hands as the ultimate weapon when…
Drake: No! That’s enough…this is unacceptable…You two unhand Orlando this very instant.
The referee jersey wearing Laymon follows right along behind Drake on his way to the ring…the two walking with impunity now that they’re surrounded by a huge contingent of security guards.
Dollar: And now we’ve got Desmond and his high guard on the way to the ring to further compound Orlando’s misfortunes.
Susie: How can there be any such misfortune when there are midgets around…midgets are pure fun in an under five foot package.
Drake looks genuinely perturbed as he reaches the ringside mats with something in his hands.
Drake: I’m not about to let this match happen…not under these circumstances…
Harrison tilts his head in a truly horrifying fashion given the gleam in his eyes as he watches Drake waltz across the apron.
Drake: You two will NOT put a hand on Orlando Cruze…not until…THESE are placed around his wrists…
That gleam in Harrison’s eyes turns into a twinkle at the sight of the shimmering handcuffs being thrown through the ropes by Drake right onto the near unconscious chest of Orlando. Frankie doesn’t have to be told twice, shoving Cruze over to his stomach while Harrison takes the cuffs and begins to clamp them around Orlando’s wrists.
Drake: That’s right Cruze..you should be quite familiar with wearing these by now…and you’ll continue wearing them as long as you continue to thumb your nose at authority. I could fire you right now…but I’m letting you off easy…I’m giving you a chance right here…right now to save your job. Either win this match tonight…..or YOUR FIRED!
Drake drops the mic and drops from the ring after he drops a massive bombshell.
Dollar: How magnanimous of Drake….he could fire Cruze as a professional wrestler for interfering in that previous match..,but instead he’s giving him the shot to save his job…he only has to beat Frankie Paradise and Aaron Harrison…with Jacob Laymon as the special referee…and with his hands cuffed behind his back….Are you noticing a trend here?
Susie: Not really.
Dollar: You wouldn’t. Goodbye Cruze…I guess working with you was tolerable.
There is not a closed eye in the building..everyone opened and everyone set on the ring for what may be Orlando’s final match…and Frankie and Harrison…are going to make sure that’s exactly what they witness.
Laymon slides into the ring and in spite of his friendship with Orlando, opts to call for the bell and to save his OWN skin.
The show returns live to a lively reaction from the crowd…why…cause they’re watching Orlando receive punch after punch to his unprotected face…hands still chained behind his back…and no defense to this onslaught. Harrison is thoroughly enjoying himself as his knuckles land against Orlando’s nose and eyeballs. He then bends down and retracts his arm before delivering a knife edge chop across Cruze’s chest that sounds like a gunshot going off in the Manhattan Center.
Dollar: Orlando Cruze continuing to get beat down all throughout the commercial break…the man has absolutely no defense with his hands shackled behind his back…..which explains why his opponent Harrison looks to be getting such delight out of this.
Susie: Awww…who knew beating up Orlando was soo much fun. Should we try it?
Dollar: Might have to wait in line for like an hour…cause Paradise and Harrison are trying to beat Orlando and steal his career from him…and something tells me they aren’t the sharing type.
Harrison throws Orlando back first into the turnbuckle with him unable to so much as get a hand up to protect himself. Aaron then rushes in and drives a knee into Cruze’s gut, bending him over. The grinding of Orlando’s teeth isn’t the only sound to come from his mouth as Harrison leads him up to a full upright position by his jaw.
Harrison: I’m sorry…were you trying to say something?
Orlando: You’re nothing but slim…
Orlando’s lips are pinched together, clamping his mouth shut tight…
Harrison: I can’t hear that? Were you…were you trying to beg? Were you trying to beg for YOUR life…or the life of your precious Tay-Tay? Speak up…beg a little louder…Beg Orlando…BEG!
A right hand drills Orlando between the eyes, followed by another. Harrison wedges both hands to Cruze’s throat and shoves him back first against the turnbuckle, choking him till there’s no fight left.
Harrison: I want to hear you say it…I want to hear you beg me!
Orlando: FUCK YOU!
A sigh from Harrison, who steps back and slowly shakes his head.
Harrison: That’s NOT what I wanted to hear.
Harrison steps back and delivers a quick shuffle side kick right to Cruze’s skull, cracking his jaw on impact. Orlando falls to his seat, back propped against the apron, with his eyes rolling to the back of his head. Though Harrison would probably have a victory clinched, he instead turns to Frankie and snaps his fingers. The smile on Paradise’s face couldn’t be any wider as he leaps to the mats, grabs a Singapore Cane and throws it over the ropes into the ring. Laymon turns his back with hands over his eyes, acting like he’s suddenly stricken deaf…dumb and mute…unable to bare any type of witness to what happens to Orlando.
Dollar: Come on…does Harrison really need the Singapore Cane? This is overkill.
Susie: Considering that they burn other wrestlers like marshmallows…I think this is rather tame for Harrison.
The cane sways to Harrison’s side as he slowly approaches the kneeling Orlando…mere moments from employing a weapon that has become such a focal point for so many weeks of IWC action…But tonight…it might never come into play…as the lights in the building dim into total darkness…some type of distortion taking place on the screen…static overlapping all of the images.
Dollar: Oh God…oh no…not this man…I seriously hoped that Mr. Gaunt wasn’t serious about this.
Susie: He’s more serious than Mr. Hush trying to tame balloon animals.
Harrison sets his lethal intent on another figure….turning away from Orlando towards the monster enhanced by the eerie red hue that distorts the entire arena. Legion and Leeland Gaunt have materialized on the stage, staring down the man who they took for a ride in an ambulance last week….Aaron Harrison.
Dollar: Leeland Gaunt and Legion are here…the last two members of the Black Crusade have arrived…and their staring down the sole remaining representative of the Blacklist. This night is truly about to come full circle as the sole survivors of the Blacklist and Black Crusade look to wage one final battle.
Susie: This is so nutters…can’t believe Legion will team with Orlando Cruze.
Dollar: I never thought I’d see the day that Legion would be coming out here to save Orlando Cruze.
Legion slides into the ring and gets up just in time to have Harrison swing the cane right into the ribs of the N.H.B Champion…and it not only connects…but gets caught right in the clutches of Legion….trapped under his armpit. Harrison tries to pull back on the cane but can’t get it out of Legion’s clutches…He then pulls back on the cane once more but still finds that it will not budge….locked in Legion’s arms like it were Excalibur stuck in a stone.
Aaron wedges a foot to Legion’s chest and rears back with all his strength on the cane, but STILL cannot pull the weapon out of the masked behemoth’s arm. A strategy change is employed, Aaron releasing the cane then throwing his head right into the chest of the Black Crusade member. The head not only connects..but is caught in the massive palm of Legion, applying the Five Finger Crawl.
Dollar: Legion has got Harrison with that Von Erich claw variation…the same move that he used to pull Harrison into the ambulance last week…Right now though…I think he’s trying to pull the soul right out of his opponent.
Frankie has seen enough, intervening before its too late. He springs to the top rope and flies right at Legion only to have the N.H.B Champion catch him around the head with his free hand. Paradise falls to his knees right beside Harrison as the two find themselves trapped in simultaneous Five Finger Crawls..
Dollar: And now…now Paradise is caught in the hold too. We saw Legion do this in his match against Whitman and Lohan a few weeks ago…but he seems to be putting this double Five Finger Crawl on both his opponents with a bit more gusto tonight.
If there is a fan in attendance not reacting to this…then they should be checked for a heartbeat stat…..cause their clearly deader than the career of Richard Grieco. Speaking of dead careers, it appears that Frankie’s and Harrison’s are about to be buried by Legion…who’s eyes glare through the slits of his mask with uncharacteristic intensity.
The only thing that could break his submission though,…is the forearm…one delivered to his upper back by of all people…Jacob Laymon.
Dollar: Are you absolutely out of your mind Laymon?
,
Legion releases both Harrison and Paradise in order to slowly turn his eyes towards Jacob, who backs away with his hands held out in front of himself…trying to explain his actions…claiming there was a fly on Legion’s back that he wanted to swat. Legion slowly turns menacing eyes from Laymon to Gaunt at ringside. All it takes is a nod from Gaunt to remove the shackles from Legion, who rushes right at Jacob.
After making the stupidest decision of his life, Jacob follows it up with the smartest, diving from the ring…But Legion continues to stalk him at a methodical pace. The goliath steps over the ropes and drops to the mats, pursuing Laymon, who is probably leaving a yellow trail in his wake as he races up the ramp.
Dollar: Legion chasing Laymon right out of the building….run Jacob…run for your life.
A terrified Laymon trips over his own feet on the ramp and then turns, beyond panic stricken at the sight of Legion towering above him….Jacob scoots across his posterior up the ramp and through the curtains, pleading for his life as Legion follows him…about to deliver unspeakable horrors on the GM.
Dollar: Legion about to show no mercy to Laymon….but that…that leaves us without a refere…
Before the observation can even be finished, the long coat of Mr. Gaunt is removed in order to reveal the black referee style jersey on beneath it.
Susie: Ewww…black really is sliming…if Gaunt turns sideways right now he’d probably vanish.
Dollar: Leeland…Leeland Gaunt is taking over the officiating duties for this match…now that his stalwart, Legion has chased Laymon right out of the building.
Harrison and Paradise both recognize that Mr. Gaunt’s plot has come to fruition and before they can do anything about it, their forced to transfer attention back to their original target. Orlando rushes out of the corner and with wrists shackled behind his back delivers a big shoulder block to Aaron, knocking him down to the canvas.
He then turns back to Frankie, who throws one right hand that Cruze ducks…then another right hand that Cruze ducks…then a left that Orlando ducks before using the top of his head as a weapon, driving it right into Paradise’s ribs. Frankie is doubled over by the head butt, grabbing at his mid-section while Orlando rushes into the ropes at his side, ricocheting off then delivering a big kick right to the side of Paradise’s head.
Dollar: I’m as speechless as you are stupid, Susie…
Susie: Then that would explain why your still speaking.
Dollar: Orlando capitalizing on Mr. Gaunt’s distraction and he’s taken advantage…even with hands shackled behind his back.
Aaron spots Orlando’s spine exposed to him, prompting him to rush in and take advantage only to have Cruze turn and with hands still chained together, bends down and catches Harrison with a big back drop. The crowd has a massive pop at the sight of Orlando actually answering the challenge that is posed by Harrison and Paradise.
He turns just in time to catch Frankie coming in with a back drop of his own, sending Paradise flipping through the air before ultimately crashing into the canvas. Confidence just begins to form in Orlando before he goes after Frankie, who has crawled into one of the turnbuckles and stood up just in time to catch the inbound Icon with a boot to the ribs. Orlando doubles over and turns away from Frankie right into a side headlock from Harrison, who swings his leg and brings Cruze down head first into the canvas with a side headlock DDT.
The impact of Orlando’s head to canvas is…well…predictably pretty vicious….vicious enough to instantly strip momentum out of his favor. Harrison then places a palm right across Orlando’s throat and pushes down on it with his other hand, providing a disgusting choke. Frankie then puts the boots to Orlando while he is trapped in this position, rendered incapable of defending himself.
But defense comes in another form…a form that wasn’t predicted…the form of Nathan Creed rushing down the ramp and sliding into the ring.
Dollar: Creed….it’s Creed…I think he’s out here to be the tag team partner…or because of what‘s in his hands.
Susie: Box Head and Bald Head reunited.
The crowd is quite bombastic in regards to Creed as he slides into the ring with a pair of bolt cutters in his hands. He drops them to the canvas in favor of racing across it and avoiding a big lariat attempt from the stunned Paradise. A stunned Frankie spins around and gets clocked across the chest with a knife edge chop, then a second, then a third, then a fourth, sending him spiraling across the ring. Nathan then rushes in and clotheslines Paradise right over the ropes to the outside.
Nathan then spins around just as Harrison breaks the choke on Orlando and tries to take out the interloper. He rushes in with a big kick aimed at Nathan’s face only to have Britain’s Finest duck the inbound boot, stands up behind him and catches him around the waist. He snaps over backwards into the German suplex, eliciting a huge pop from the fans. He then spins his hips, pulls Aaron along and then snaps back into a release German suplex delivered with such emphasis that it flips Harrison completely over, crashing across his face and stomach.
Dollar: A bone breaking German from Creed, he’s absolutely…positively…completely cleaned out. 3N is back baby.
Susie: Baby’s GOT Back….
Dollar: That’s not what I said…
Susie: Good…because Nathan has no backside in which to speak of.
Creed kips up to his feet after laying out Harrison and quickly darts to the bolt cutters, extracting htem from the canvas. He then approaches the kneeling Orlando, who gazes at his long time partner wide eyed. To the total surprise of Orlando, his long time tag team partner steps behind him, places the bolt cutters to his handcuffs and begins to break the shackles.
Cruze is about ten seconds before freed from his cuffs…..but it’s ten seconds too long…as Frankie scrambles back into the ring, desperate to cut him off. Creed throws down the bolt cutters and throws a knife edge chop into Frankie’s chest, staggering him.
Nathan then delivers another chop, and then another, leaving blood vessels bursting in Paradise’s sternum. He pulls his hand back for another knife edge chop when Frankie ducks it then takes off across the ring. He ricochets off the far ropes and comes back in at Creed, who turns just in time to catch Paradise with a back drop, sending him flipping over the ropes and crashing down to the outside mats with a none too pretty landing.
The fans are flipping their lids as Nathan goes to approach the bolt cutters and free his partner from the shackles, only to spot Harrison climbing to the apron behind him. Nathan responds quickly, rushing in and nailing the shoulder of Aaron before he can stand completely up, launching him off of the apron to the outside mats.
Creed then spins back towards Paradise, who is climbing up with the aid of the apron, all the while grabbing hold of something from beneath the ring. Nathan bolts across it to cut him off, diving through the ropes when Frankie stands up and swings a Singapore Cane right into the skull of the airborne Creed, knocking him out of the air and knocking him unconscious.
Dollar: GAARR! Nathan knocked out…knocked out with the Singapore cane by Paradise.
Susie: Again…no candy?
A ‘holy shit’ chant has started from the crowd at the sight of Nathan lying comatose upon the mats, his head split open from the shot with the cane. All the whole Harrison is removing the top layer of the steps, throwing them into the ring under the ropes…so that he can expose the lower section. He then shouts at Frankie, who drags Nathan up to his feet, in spite of Creed’s inability to so much as stand, then whips him right into Aaron.
Harrison bends down and catches Creed’s ribs against his shoulders, standing up and holding him in a fireman’s carry before delivering the death valley driver, planting Nathan across the back of his head and shoulders across the bottom section of the steps.
Susie: I think this just got worse for Creed.
Dollar: You’re not kidding! Holy fucks that was gruesome. Here I thought Orlando was going to have to be carted out of here….now it looks like Creed’s the one in need of medical aid.
Creed’s lies stretched across the steel steps but it still isn’t enough…The resounding waves of ‘holy shit’ are like a symphony to Harrison…but he wants the tune to be cranked up a notch. He drags Nathan away from the steel and props him up against the apron on his jaw, holding him in place by the back of his neck. All so that Orlando can see him…can get a good glimpse of the blood dribbling down Nathan’s forehead.
Cruze can only sits on his knees and watch the suffrage of his long time partner…suffrage at the hands of Harrison.
Harrison: This is how you treat your friends…..Cruze? I’d hate to be your enemy.
He winks towards a fuming Orlando, who is shouting obscenities. Harrison then spins Nathan around and shoves him along into the Snap Shot by Paradise, planting Creed’s face first into the thin protective mats.
Dollar: I’m pretty sure Nathan’s gonna be a non factor after all of this.
Creed lies bloodied on the mats, not flinching a single muscle after everything he was just put through…but his victimizers are moving, right towards the ring. Harrison slides into the ring and rushes at the kneeling Orlando only to have Cruze catch him with a drop toe hold, planting Aaron down face first into the top layer of the steel steps that Aaron, himself, slid into the ring…and is now regretting that decision.
Harrison’s face bounces off of the steel and he rolls to his back as Orlando crawls towards him. The only thing that Orlando has at his disposal to use a potent weapon is his teeth, which sink into the forehead of Aaron, actually gnawing at the bridge of his nose.
Dollar; Orlando is going to bite Harrison’s face off if that’s what it takes…
Mr. Gaunt at last enters the ring and slaps it, as technically Orlando is pinning Harrison’s shoulders to the canvas in the process of eating his flesh.
1
2
Frankie delivers a shot with the Singapore Cane across Orlando’s upper back, eliciting a series of wails from the crowd.
Dollar: The cane…the cane again!
Susie: And still no fucking candy coming out of Orlando…this is the mother of all jips.
Frankie steps over Orlando’s back and puts the cane across his throat, rearing back in a version of the camel clutch. The features of the Icon have transformed into a bright shade of red….then morph into a blue pigment as he begins to lose consciousness. Now that Orlando is at bay, there’s nothing keeping Harrison from setting his sights to another target…that target being Mr. Gaunt/
Harrison glares at the Black Crusade leader…rising to his feet and approaching the master of the arcane arts. :Leeland takes hold of the handle to his hidden blade, moments from extracting it and cutting down Harrison…but his hand is stayed when from the back rushes Simon Cagero.
Dollar: And now it’s Simon…SIMON F’N CAGERO…and he’s rushing the ring….Don’t tell me….don’t tell me.
Minds are absolutely blown as Cagero extends his arm out over the ring and slaps the nearby shoulder of Cruze, tagging himself into this match…and even more shockingly…making himself the partner of the Icon.
The fans no longer chant ‘holy shit’ but are instead screaming the name of Cagero, as he leaps over the ropes and lands right in front of Paradise. Frankie finally looks up and spots Simon just as he steps in and clocks him under the jaw with a super kick.
The kick sends Paradise flying back and releasing the Singapore Cane…dropping down in front of Cruze.
Simon approaches the weapon and picks it up while Orlando’s eyes tentatively track the feet of Cagero all the way up to his smiling face…and then down to the weapon in his clutches.
Orlando closes his eyes tightly, realizing that at long last Simon has him where he wants him…and though Cruze offers quite the tempting target….Simon instead turns just in time to swing the cane right into the inbound ribs of Harrison./
Aaron doubles over and then Simon retracts the cane, slapping it with all his strength right over Harrison’s face.
The cane almost implodes on impact as Cagero takes out Harrison…
Dollar: Simon Cagero kicking ass in true Simon Cagero fashion….He had the opportunity to take out Orlando…but…as unbelievable as it may be given their recent history…Simon instead took out Paradise and Harrison.
Susie: And with the cane too….I am adamant….I would NEVER play with that thing….especially now that I see it not resulting in even a bit of candy.
The cane is thrown to the outside while Simon exchanges a nod with Mr. Gaunt…But the friendly gesture from Gaunt is not what Cagero pays the most attention to…it’s the extended finger of Gaunt…again using it to gesture to a quite precarious predicament…this one unfolding behind Simon’s back. Cagero turns around just as Frankie unleashes a roar, ripping the title belt that was glued to his waist earlier in the night right off his abs, tearing away a few shards of skin. He then rushes in and bashes Cagero right between the eyes with the championship
Susie: I think Frankie just ripped out his happy trail…
Dollar: Who knows what Frankie just ripped out by finally tearing that belt off of his gut…and now he’s used it against Simon…the very man who super glued it to his gut earlier tonight.
Frankie then throws down the championship and grabs at the blood that has oozed through some of the ripped portions of his skin. He watches now as Harrison slides into the ring, grabs Cagero around the neck, pulls his head in under his seat and then heaves him up into a giant piledriver planting Simon’s head right into the gold plate of the title.
Dollar; And just like that Simon Cagero has been taken out by both Paradise and Harrison…he couldn’t last for loing considering everything the man has already endured tonight.
Susie: They may have broke his neck.
A motionless Cagero lies across the canvas, eyes flickering in a vain attempt to stay conscious while Frankie rolls to the outside of the ring and grabs something from the home depot beneath it. A can is present in Paradise’s palm as he rolls into the ring and begins to shake it several times before ultimately beginning to spray something across the back of the prone Cagero.
B…I…T….C….H
Simon has been labeled with his own scarlet letters.
Dollar; Simon’s sins come back to haunt him…..Frankie using that belt and now marking him with the spray-paint…
Susie: Paradise and Harrison have taken out ANOTHER former World Champion.
The can of spray paint is tossed out of the ring by Paradise, who drops down with his knee wedged to the cheek of Cagero, holding his head down.
Paradise: Who’s the bitch now?
Harrison has approached Orlando, who is kicking and thrashing, but can’t do anything other than that as he’s led to his feet and rammed skull first down into the steel steps. Orlando bounces off of the foreign weapon and rolls across the ring with Aaron nipping at his heels and literally putting his heels to the body of the Icon.
The gloating Paradise is so busy….well…..gloating….that he doesn’t even spot Taylor Chase sliding into the ring beside him. The fans have a less than thrilled reception to Chase, who taps Frankie on the shoulder and then leaves her palm there. Paradise looks affectionately at the hand of the World Champion….and feels so comforted by the feel of flesh to flesh.
Frankie: I knew you’d come around.
Tay-Tay nods and then gestures to the Singapore Cane….which Frankie eagerly grabs hold of….tossing it to the World Champion. Chase has no trouble swinging the cane right down into the ribs of Simon, causing him to curl into a ball and groan. She then grabs Simon by the hair, drags him up to his feet and slams the cane across his upper back, knocking him through the ropes to the outside of the ring.
Dollar: And now Tay-Tay HAS picked a side…she’s joining Frankie in this assault….She’s saddled up with a new man.
Susie: And why do you keep comparing every man on the roster to a horse?
Dollar: I can’t help them if they all have equine features.
As if Paradise didn’t have enough to gloat over already. Arms stretch to his sides as he gestures with his chin for Taylor to step towards him.
Frankie: Come to me…come to Frankie.
Stomachs the world over are turning as Tay-Tay approaches Paradise and begins to reach in for the hug.
Tay-Tay: Forgive me, Franklin.
Before Paradise can question her teary sentiment, Tay-Tay boots him to the ribs, grabs him by the hair and rushes him at the ropes, tossing him through to the outside of the ring.
Susie: WHOA NOW!
Dollar: Tay-Tay HAS picked a side…she’s just pitched Paradise out of the ring…she’s sticking by her man…and that man is Orlando Cruze.
The Singapore Cane is gripped in Tay-Tay’s hands tightly as she rushes up behind Harrison, who is strangling Orlando in the corner, and then bashes him right to his back. The cane ricochets off of Aaron’s spine, causing him to arch his back but not be taken down. He stands up straight and then turns towards Chaser with the most menacing of expressions on his face. A smile slowly forms on Harrison’s lips…eyes cutting between Tay-Tay and Orlando.
Harrison: Awww…hot sweet…
The cane is swung once more but Harrison catches it in his palms….Chase’s eyes widening as the weapon is ripped right out of her clutches. Aaron then does the unthinkable, taking the cane and cracking it in two right over his knee. The shattered remnants are thrown aside by the still grinning Harrison.
Harrison: Young love…is there anything that can end more tragically?
He approaches Chase, who is slowly backing up to the center of the ring, depicting some fear of the man who will be facing her for the World Championship at the pay-per-view. The methodical stalking ends when Orlando falls out of the corner, his shoulder connecting with the back of Harrison’s knee. Aaron is then brought down to a kneeling base as Tay-Tay capitalizes on the opportunity, rushing in beside Harrison and cracking him to the temple with the steel plated knee brace.
Dollar: Chase and Cruze…they’ve just taken out Harrison!
Susie: This is so…this is so damned melodramatic I can’t take no mores.
The knee crushes the bones in Harrison’s face and knocks him to his back but its Orlando’s face that Tay-Tay seems so preoccupied with. She takes it into her palms and lifts his jaw so that he can see up into her face…Before she can say anything to the Icon….her words are stifled by the screams of the fans as Hurse comes barreling down the ramp.
Dollar: The moment spoiled by Hurse…he’s the proverbial kill joy.
Just as Hurse is about to reach the ring with a taser in hand, Taylor rushes across the ring and flips right over the top rope, ultimately crashing down right into her target. Both Hurse and Tay-Tay collapse to the mats amidst a righteous ovation from the crowd.
Dollar: And now Tay-Tay takes out Hurse before he could interfere….There are bodies flying everyone…bodies strewn everywhere…This is absolute…sheer and utter madness.
Orlando watches as Chase leads Hurse up to his feet and nails him with right hands to the cheeks and chin, battling him around the ramp to the backstage area. In the meanwhile Harrison lays beneath Orlando, realizing that this is his grand opportunity. He drops down across the chest of an unconscious Aaron…Mr. Gaunt falling into position and slapping the canvas to a seismic ovation.
Dollar: Taylor’s TKO connected and no one…no one has been able to kick out of it yet…Orlando is about to win this match…he’s about to overcome all the obstacles thrown in his way.
Leeland’s hand comes down….
Once…
Twice…
STATIC
The same black and white grainy filming technique is employed to give the scene a far more foreboding aspect. And it’s well justified, considering what takes place upon the screen…the images playing out on the Cartel-tron before the attentive gaze of Mr. Gaunt…..He is forced to watch the curved blade gripped in the hand of Ba’al, as it slowly approaches his hanging menagerie of victims. Mr. Hush seems to be his primary target, the blade slipping in just under his jaw.
Ba’al: So many choices…so many options…so little time…..
Unfortunately for Orlando, Mr. Gaunt has been distracted by the images, leaving him unable to make the three count. The knife lowers to Ba’al’s side.
Ba’al: But hmmmm…one of you isn’t like the other.
The knife moves between the throats of his victims but is yet to connect…it stops in front of Silence once he hears an uncharacteristic whimper of fear emit from beneath her mask.
Mr. Gaunt continues to be fascinated by the gruesome scene of torture that seems to have been lifted straight from an Eli Roth film. But it’s his fascination that leaves him blinded to the influence of Executioner. The big man scrambles to the ring and reaches under, grabbing the ankle of Mr. Gaunt then sliding him out of the ring mere moments before he could go back to making the count.
Dollar; And now Executioner…Executioner coming out to get revenge on Mr. Gaunt for several weeks of trauma….and for what Legion did to Laymon moments ago.
Mr. Gaunt avoids a right hand from Executioner, who then spins around and finds his eyes blinded by Asiatic mist shot right through the teeth of the special referee.
Dollar: No….Executioner blinded…he’s blinded by the mist!
A desperate Executioner tries to clear his eyes of the mist but it’s too late, Mr. Gaunt unloading on him with forearms and kicks from every perceivable angle. The two fighting their way over the barricade and through the teeming masses.
Susie: Now where are THEY going?
Dollar: This has back fired in a big way for Executioner…who is now being beaten to the backstage area….but that leaves no referee out here to officiate this match.
Orlando slowly stands up over the prone body of Harrison and begins to deliver repeated stomps to his chest and stomach, wearing him down effectively. But then he spots Frankie sliding into the ring at his side and charging straight at him only to have the Icon bend down and drive the top of his skull into Paradise’s ribs. Frankie doubles over as Orlando steps back and prepares to lunge in with another head butt only to have Paradise lunge into the air, catch him around the neck and drag him down into the Snap Shot.
Orlando lies motionless on the canvas with Paradise crawling towards him, mere inches removed from his face.
Frankie: What did you do…what did you do to her you bastard!?! You brainwashed my precious Tay-Tay.
The infuriated Paradise looks to alleviate some of his tensions, rising to his feet and raising the title belt that was pasted to his stomach, extending it between his hands. Orlando slowly gets to his knees, teetering back and forth before Paradise rushes up behind him and cracks him to the back of the skull with the gold, knocking him out completely.
Harrison then stands up with the aid of the ropes, still feeling the effects of that shot from the knee brace of Chase. He finally shakes off the numerous blows to his skull then steps in and grabs Orlando by the neck, snapping him up to his feet, hooking both of his arms and dropping into a double arm DDT.
Dollar: And now the time has come…Orlando receiving his comeuppance at long last for everything he’s done…everything he’s done to the IWC and to the roster.
Susie: Your allegiances switch so quickly it makes my head spin.
Dollar: Deal.
There is nothing…no fight….no energy…no nothing from Orlando…who just lays across the canvas, eyes rolled to the back of his head after the numerous blows to his head…which has a history of suffering multiple concussions and brain related trauma. More trauma prepares to be unleashed…just not physically…as Harrison pushes Orlando onto his back and hooks both legs at this point.
The need for a referee is filled when Desmond Drake comes barreling back down the ramp in a child’s small referee shirt, skipping up the steps to the apron and diving through the ropes.
Dollar: Drake! Drake is gonna be the referee!
Susie: Awww…he looks so cute…he thinks he’s human.
Desmond skips up the steps and into the ring, cracking his neck as he relishes this moment…the moment where he will finally take Orlando Cruze completely out of the IWC. He drops down and makes the definitive…career ending count to screeches from the crowd.
1
2
STATIC
Desmond almost leaps out of his skin when he sees the distortion on the Cartel-tron…causing his hand to stop mere inches from the canvas, balling his fingers into a fist.
Dollar: Not again.
The big screen flashes with imagery of Ba’al crouching in front of the swaying Silence. Off to his side Mr. Hush is leaning heavily on Al Todd-Meritweather, the two lowered back to their feet and no longer hanging from the meat hooks.
Ba’al: Take your leave.
Al doesn’t have to be told twice, leading Mr. Hush away from the sycophant who remains stooped in front of the whimpering lady. He’s no longer preoccupied by the Black Crusade, and instead seems fixated on the woman who actually demonstrates fear when faced with this master of sin. He reaches out and grabs the bottom of her mask, ripping it away to reveal the face of Jessica Wilde….the IWC ring announcer.
Ba’al: Hmmmm….interesting.
STATIC
Desmond isn’t the only one who looks confused by the images on the Cartel-tron…because Harrison and Paradise are equally as bewildered as they stare up the ramp at the screen. All three men are totally befuddled and totally unaware of the figure sliding into the ring behind them…Christian Savior.
Dollar: It’s Christian…CHRISTIAN…watch out Drake…watch on Harrison..watch out Paradise…everyone just watch out!
Susie: Do they ever listen to us when we beg them to do that?
Dollar: Good point.
Aaron is the unfortunate one quick to turn around when Christian barrels across the ring and spears him right to the ribs. The force of the Bloodline Spear carries both men through the ropes and to the outside of the ring…resulting in a wall shaking response.
Dollar: Savior picking up right where he left off with Harrison last week….the Bloodline Spear taking he and Harrison to the outside.
Susie: I swear if they bring the ambulance back out here I better be permitted to play with the lights and sirens…Or so God help me.
Christian and Harrison collapse to the mats with both men looking spent, Christian still not recovered from his match earlier in the night…and Harrison still feeling the effects of that knee strike to the temple from Taylor Chase. Everyone hops around excitedly as Frankie and Desmond turn back towards a kneeling Orlando…Drake points at Cruze and shouts for Frankie to finish him.
Paradise rushes at Orlando and nails him with a kick to the temple, putting him over to his back, then rushing at the ropes. He slips through them and begins to build anticipation for the springboard shooting star press…But everyone’s attention is derailed from Paradise to Rose…Rose Savior sliding into the ring and grabbing at the referee jersey of Drake.
Desmond pulls away at the last second, freeing himself from the grips of Rose just before she could dig her claws into him. He then scurries from the ring right under the very ropes that Frankie has sprung on top of. He now flies across the ring and gets caught right in the former World Champion’s clutches, Savior bringing him down with the diamond cutter to the type of response that would lift skirts and knock off socks.
Dollar: Frankie went high risk and it cost him ironically against Rose…who had her own troubles earlier tonight when going springboard. She just nailed…just nailed the diamond cutter after sending Drake scurrying from the ring.
The man who was instrumental in the loss of her championship flips to his back as a result of Rose’s shocking Black Rose cutter…leaving him entirely exposed as Orlando regains focus long enough to scurry across his knees and drop into the lateral press. Rose has no idea that the pin is happening behind her back, too busy keeping Drake from re-entering the ring, rushing at the ropes and sending him fleeing away from the apron.
That’s when the tarp hanging from said apron shoots into the air and from under the ring rolls Silence….
Dollar: Silence…she was…she was…under the ring this whole damned time?
Susie: Yeah…she must have put Jessica in her costume earlier tonight.
The masked Silence looks towards the ring where the pin is occurring, prompting her to roll in just in time to slap the canvas, considering she’s still an OFFICIAL official…ironically by decree of Drake.
1
2
Dollar: This is UNREAL!
3!
Pandemonium…absolute insanity….it’s the only way to express the reaction from the crowd….Some fall over, hyperventilating…while others grab their chest. Suffering heart attacks at the sight of Orlando’s victory here tonight….thanks to….The Black Crusade? Thanks to….the Saviors?
Dollar: Un-friggin-believable….Orlando Cruze has done it…he’s won…he’s saved his job…and he’s got a measure of revenge against the Blacklist…against Paradise….
Susie: This is so much fun I want to take my pants off.
Dollar: So many moving pieces interconnecting here tonight in this absolutely shocking main event.
Drake looks appalled from the outside of the ring…..Paradise appears disgusted from the center of the ring….and Harrison is apathetic from the ramp, doubled over gripping at his ribs….Orlando rises victoriously from his knees….Rose gives a blood curdling glare towards the Icon from her stance in front of the ropes…and Christian Savior is surveying everything from his kneeling base on the apron.
Dollar: The Saviors continue their path to revenge….taking out both Harrison and Paradise tonight to lead to this victory…this totally insane victory on behalf of Orlando…But there were victims…many of them in fact…Nathan Creed…Simon Cagero BOTH taken out through the course of this match.. And who knows what the Black Crusade have done to Laymon and Executioner….I can’t believe everything that just went down.
Susie: I lost track of it all…mostly because I wasn’t following along in the first place.
Dollar: An epic win for Orlando under truly insane circumsta….
Drake: Congratulations…no…really…congratulations.
Desmond has a microphone n hand and has now stepped up onto the announce table so that he once again can take center stage.
Drake: I never should have doubted your abilities to rise above, Orlando….your performance tonight…it was truly uplifting…truly heart warming…truly inspiring….
A kneeling Cruze glares through foggy eyes at the miniscule mastermind at ringside.
Drake: Somehow in spite of everything you continue to persevere…but the true story here…is the story of the Saviors….or one Savior in particular…the only Savior who matters….Rose Savior…who moves just one step closer to fulfilling her revenge….
Rose doesn’t take kindly to her name emanating from the lips of Drake.
Drake: You’ve managed to best yet another of the individuals who collaborated in costing you the World Championship…So with complete and earnest sincerity….congratulations…beautiful.
Savior’s eyebrow arches…really not taking kindly to the words from Drake’s lips.
Drake: Rose…my love…this….Orlando competing in handcuffs….Taylor doing the same at the pay-per-view….you being inserted as the special referee….it’s for you….it’s ALLLL for you…
Savior is now more confused than disgusted by the words from the lips of Drake.
Drake: And I have something else for you…Rose….because now that Orlando has saved his job….he’s officially an active member of our roster…meaning I can book him in whatever match I see fit…And at the pay-per-view, I’m going to put him in a match that helps you move one step closer to your revenge. At Upping the Ante….Rose…it’s going to be you and that barnacle who’s attached himself to your underbelly….Christian…in a handicap match against Orlando Cruze….and it’ll be…a Singapore Canes are legal match.
The crowd is just as unsure of what to think as Rose regarding the revelation from the lips of Drake.
Orlando knows exactly what to think…kneeling and stewing with anger.
Drake: I hope this moves us one step closer together, Rose….I hope this shows just how much I care about you….just how much I LOVE YOU.
Rose’s face has gone white and Christian’s face has gone red and Orlando’s face has gone green. Desmond puts his lips to palm, kisses it and then blows it in the direction of Rose…the object of his affection…the very woman who has inspired him to so viciously persecute Orlando Cruze…forcing him and Taylor Chase to suffer the same fates he’s forced the Saviors to endure…..Resulting in a handicapped Singapore Canes are legal match at Upping the Ante..
FADE TO… Backstage….
With his back turned to the camera a figure steps slowly towards a car in the parking lot. The ski mask…the running suit…and the World Heavyweight Champion all grace the physique of this individual as he approaches the vehicle with motor already running. Instead of opening the driver’s side door, he slips into the backseat, looking forward into the rear-view mirror which provides a view of the woman behind the wheel.
Did everything go smoothly.
Without a word the masked man nods, confirming that all of the driver’s…Tabitha Silverstone’s plans…went accordingly. Tabitha…the woman who managed Sebastian Knight up until his career was tragically cut short by Taylor Chase at Awakening…grins from one ear all the way to the other.
FADE TO BLACK.
IWC 