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.
The music in the background pierces all the right nerves…creating a spine tingling….goosebump inducing sensation.
And the huge mount of dirt to the side of the stage….
The open pit upon the top of this mound of displaced earth…
The tombstone at the head of this grave….
And the inscription adds to this foreboding feel…
IWC
2008-2014
RIP
TRENCHES by Pop Evil provides the background tunes to a compilation of chaotic images, rather it be Porno Lad delivering the Epic Fail, or Ba’al holding up a serpent The video filters into slower iconic shots of Christian and Rose arm in arm on their way to the ring, as well as Taylor Chase sashaying across the ring, before transitioning into P. Clarence Whitman III giving a celebratory smooch to Michelle Blacker. The violence escalates with a shot of the Blacklist assaulting Denile Partis Simon Cagero spiraling an opponent into oblivion via the Break the Silencer, Jackson Adams going nostril to nostril with Axl Evermore, and ultimately Leland Gaunt standing alongside the members of the Black Crusade over a pile of vanquished foes.
No pyrotechnics….no commentary exchanges…just a blackened Grand Ballroom save for the single spotlight outlining the physique of Ba’al….He’s seated in the ring, back wedged to the turnbuckle, arms thrown out to his sides and dangling over the middle ropes…Melancholy in his eyes.
Ba’al: How unfortunate….
To his lips is raised a microphone. …one that allows him to make his warped thoughts translucent to the fans.
Ba’al: That the Independent Wrestling Cartel takes me so lightly. They book me in Hell in a Cell matches in their developmental territory under the guise of calling my bluff. Believing I am nothing but shameless self promotion, that I am a big dog who’s bite is not compatible with his bark. But the IWC learned, much like the unfortunate Mr. Steel, that I am not hype, that I am not a pack of lies, that I am what I say I am…I am justice.
STATIC
Images extrapolated from the most recent edition of New Age are replayed. Scott Steel stands up to Ba’al in a manifestation of the monster’s wet dreams, the Hell in a Cell, but the upstart rookie doesn’t stand for very long. Blood first dribbles, then oozes, then gushes down his body as Ba’al heinously persecutes the newbie, slamming his face to mesh, ripping at the various gashes and lacerations he has opened, and then putting the nail in the coffin, driving it there with the use of a sledgehammer. The final footage shows Scott loaded on a stretcher and carted from the executioner’s dais.
STATIC
And we return to find Ba’al still seated in the corner, drearily observing the visceral images, which fail to elicit much in the way of a reaction.
Ba’al: Hmmmm….perhaps the IWC DID call my bluff. As my actions within the confines of that steel abomination were rather tame. But in the end, Scott Steel neither deserved my time or my energies…..
Face-palm moment.
Ba’al: And neither did my opponent at the pay-per-view, or my adversary tonight. I would pity the likes of Simon Cagero and Brooklyn Smith, for they know not what this company has subjected them to. They have no clue that the IWC is dangling them like Christians in a den of lions. But I do not pity them, for they willingly step into that den, inadequately armed for battle.
Palm removed from face and eyes revealed…full of malice and condemnation.
Ba’al: So Brooklyn, come to this ring and face me, believe that you are unlike all the others who have been judged and executed. Believe you are something special, but know you are nothing more than another condemned soul and justice will be swiftly carried forth against your ignorant and misguided soul.
Spotlights start to shine around the arena as “Born for This” by Paramore hits the speakers. After a few moments, the spotlights stop on the entrance ramp, on the beautiful Brooklyn Smith.
Brooklyn is dressed only in her ring gear. She smiles at the applause of the fans as she starts towards the ring, the spotlight remaining on her. On route to the ring, Smith makes contact with some of the crowd, ranging from slapping hands to talking with or signing autographs for them.
Once she reaches ringside, she grabs hold of the second rope and pulls herself up and inside the ring. She chooses a random corner, where she climbs up to the middle turnbuckle, snapping off a salute: both to the crowd and to the memory of her father, wrestling legend Jack “The Hammer” Smith. She then climbs down and does some stretches while she waits for the match to begin.
Johnny Dollar: And we’re getting right underway here tonight as Brooklyn Smith takes on Ba’al….can she finally shut him up? Can she at last defeat this executioner of justice?
Susie Moore: Should I consult the Magic 8 Ball?
Dollar: You should never consult that Magic 8 Ball ever again. It’ll be interesting to see what Brooklyn does here tonight, if she can ride the momentum from her victory at Upping the Ante to another win tonight?
There is not an inkling, the slightest trace of fear exuded from Smith even as she stands opposed to the Prince of Sin….His eyes are turned from the enchantress, leaning against the turnbuckle with forehead wedged to the middle rope, perhaps mentally inspiring himself. With referee Stuart Wright in the ring the bell chimes and we are underway.
Smith continues to display courage, having dealt with monsters the likes of Ba’al all her life, so she doesn’t back away from this one, no matter how physically imposing and how many bodies he’s left in his wake. Back and forth Brooklyn paces, ready to lock up with Ba’al, who doesn’t move an inch, not even twitching an eyebrow or drawing a breath. A tentative Smith steps in and wraps arms around Ba’al’s neck, applying a side headlock to no defense from her opponent.
Ba’al: How unpredictable, a side headlock? How will I ever escape this?
Dollar: Oh wonderful, and now Ba’al is talking…AGAIN!
Susie: What’s wrong with him talking? I think his voice sounds funny.
Dollar: It’s because he’s German, Susie.
Susie: Then he shouldn’t be wrestling, if he has Germans he could be contagious.
Dollar: If only we had a drum-roll.
The side headlock then transitions into a hammerlock from Brookyln, showing she can trade holds with the best of them. Ba’al then bends down to counter but Smith transitions BACK into the side headlock, really clamping arms tightly around her opponent’s neck.
Ba’al: Very good, young Brooklyn.
Another transition, from side headlock to snap mare take-down, flipping Ba’al to his rear end, where he is then promptly placed in a sleeper hold. The submission traps and deprives oxygen from the skull of her opponent, but even with his airway blocked, Ba’al is still flapping his gums.
Ba’al: Is your confidence growing? Are you beginning to believe?
Smith breaks the sleeper, grabs her opponent’s arm, swings around and wedges it in place with her legs, placing in a hammerlock variant while pulling back on his jaw with a rear chin-clock.
Dollar: Brooklyn really showing her capabilities in this match…the first singles bout she’s had since signing up for the company. She’s almost putting on as great a performance as myself when I won the Tag Team Championships at Upping the Ante.
Susie: Are you gonna let me feel that belt?
Dollar: HEEEELLL nooo.
The chin lock hammerlock combination has the Germanic goth grounded, but not for long. At a methodical pace he ascends, getting to his feet only to be spun around and grabbed around the head. Brooklyn applies a side headlock then rushes at the ropes, stepping up and springing from the top in order to give her the necessary leverage to flip her opponent down into a side headlock take-over.
Ba’al ends up on his back and Brooklyn ends up seated at her side, keeping the submission established.
Dollar: We saw this from Ba’al at Upping the Ante, he just keeps letting his opponents work him over and does absolutely nothing about it…but for what reason?
Susie: Cause he’s into sadomasochism?
Though taken down Ba’al does not remain grounded, rising to his feet albeit still trapped in the side headlock. But once upright he allows Brooklyn to swing around behind him, applying the hammerlock once more.
Ba’al: Splendid, young Brooklyn, you’re thoroughly owning me thus far. Perhaps your destiny is not the same as Simon’s…or Steel’s….Maybe you will fair better.
Brooklyn can’t take anymore of it, delivering a forearm to the back of Ba’al’s head, then doing it again and again until his mouth is finally shut. He is then spun around and cracked directly beneath the jaw with a big leaping back heel kick. The strike knocks Ba’al backwards and through the ropes, landing on his feet across the outside mats and then falling into the barricade.
He backs across them and swats his palm across his mouth, appearing rather amused by this attack.
Ba’al: Good girl….very good girl….
These ‘encouraging’ words are only fueling Brooklyn, who leaps the ropes to the apron and now gets a running start, reaching the end of the apron before leaping off right into the steel chair that is thrown into her face.
Dollar: So much for Ba’al playing possum.
Susie: So there are no babies hanging from his belly?
Dollar: Um no.
Susie: He doesn’t have a cute little cold pink nose?
Dollar: No.
Susie: He doesn’t hang from a tree by his tail?
Dollar: NO GOD DAMMIT!
The thunderous collision of steel to skull leaves Brooklyn spent, lifelessly strewn across the mats with her forehead swelling from the impact with the weapon. There is no other alternative for the official at this point, Wright turning and signaling for the bell, drawing an end to this confrontation.
Dollar: And now our opening match concludes with a disqualification? Nice way to start our telecast this evening…thanks a ton Ba’al.
A victory is the least bit of Ba’al’s concerns….hence why he just ended this confrontation and did so expeditiously. The thwarted Brooklyn starts to get up when Ba’al steps in and raises her jaw just enough for her eyes to make contact with his face.
Ba’al: Yes…I SHOULD pity you, Smith, but your arrogance…your ambition cannot be overlooked…it must be judged….
A back handed slap connects with Brookyln’s cheek and puts her over to her shoulder.
And judged she shall be….
These demands result in a tremendous reaction…and unfortunately it’s NOT favorable…The curtains part and through them strides the trio known as the Blacklist, who have effectively manipulated their way into positions of power within the IWC hierarchy….and found their way into…into black suits? Yes….every member of the Blacklist…Mika included, are adorned in black suits…three piece suits with ties included.
Dollar: Uhhh wow….am I really seeing this right now?
Susie: That unicorn drinking a bottle of Zima in the corner?
Dollar: Erm…what?
Susie: Sorry, I guess I ate way too much Elmer’s Glue this afternoon.
Dollar: The Blacklist…are wearing…suits?
Susie: It’s what their wearing under them that should have us all worried.
The Blacklist are dressed to the nines…tens…elevens…maybe even the twelves, if there is such a mind blowing level of debonair. But their decorum ends at the dark suits, once a microphone finds its way into the palm of Lukas Montgomery.
Montgomery: We will not let the very first edition of the Blacklist run Riot!, begin on such a sour note.
Mika: Good point, Lukie….Disqualifications are so WCW circa 2000.
Harrison: Which is why we’re going to use our influence to institute change here in the IWC….For you see, the old ways where such chaos…such mayhem…such bedlam were common-place…their over…the old IWC…the Orlando Cruze and Desmond Drake era of lunacy…it’s about to be buried…
A gesture to the mound of dirt and the tombstone marking the demise of the IWC, all situated beside the stage.
Harrison: And the best way to see to the demise of the old IWC is to ensure that individuals who monger chaos and create this atmosphere of unrule are dealt with and penalized. Individuals just like YOU…Brooklyn Smith.
Brooklyn is barely conscious at this point but the mention of her name passing through the lips of the Blacklist has her reacting…and not favorably. She looks up from her crouching base on the mats and spews vicious rhetoric in retort to this sullying of her reputation.
Mika: We know why you were brought here…We’ve heard through the grapevine that you and Matt Gary Matt Maniac Gary Matt-Matt-Matt…I think I just went crosseyed…finish this for me would you?
The microphone is bestowed to Harrison.
Harrison: As my Mika was trying to say, the Blacklist is aware that you, Brooklyn and Gary Matt were brought into this company with a mission. Orlando hired the two of you to complete a job he was wholly incapable of, and too afraid to tackle on his own….targeting the Blacklist.
Montgomery: So it comes to no surprise to us that you would try to snub your nose at our authority. But that’s not gonna happen, Brook, no….the Blacklist won’t tolerate this chaos your trying to stimulate.
Mika: So to make sure you can’t weasel your way out of this match the Blacklist PERSONALLY booked you in this evening….we’re going to make this match no disqualifications and no count outs….
Harrison: Hold on, I think we can do a little better….after all…these loyal Blacklist supporters DESERVE better…They need to see anarchists punished.
The crowd shows just how loyal they are by crying foul, verbally unloading on the three individuals who have entered into a huddle on the stage. Montgomery repeatedly peeks out of the group huddle in order to make sure that Brooklyn isn’t trying to eavesdrop, which would be a flagrant foul.
Montgomery: Okay…okay…we’ve come to a consensus…
The three at last break their group meeting.
Montgomery: We’ve decided that tonight, in an act to keep all these unruly personalities under control, that we, the acting authority here in the IWC, will be making an example of the most unruliest of them all, Brooklyn Smith, starting not just with no disqualifications and no count outs, but with a FIRST BLOOD match….
Surprisingly this even makes Ba’al happy, who had taken residency in the ring, again seated in one of the turnbuckles with a nonchalant posture.
Mika: Yes…Brookie, you and Gar-Bear, you might have struck first in that four corner tag a couple weeks ago, but the Blacklist will drawl first blood.
Harrison: Perhaps this will dissuade you from wantonly creating carnage in this federation, which under the Blacklist regime will be a beacon of peace and stability.
Montgomery: And if Gary decides to intervene on your behalf, then the match we book him in tonight will be a thousand times worse than what your about to be subjected to.
Harrison: Wright, ring that bell…and do not ring it again until either Brooklyn or Ba’al have spilt enough blood to require a transfusion.
Mika: And Ba’al…baby doll….I’m sure you’ll appreciate that the Blacklist believes in justice too, and we’ve given you the opportunity to execute it against this harbinger of mayhem.
Per the request of the new acting General Manager…or Managers…notice the pluralization….the bell chimes and the match gets underway.
Dollar: So we’re gonna have a First Blood Match between Ba’al and Brooklyn Smith to start off tonight’s show? I‘m really not liking this new Blacklist regime.
Susie: I’ll be their biggest supporter if they name the Magic 8 Ball as your permanent replacement.
Dollar: Signs point to no….Susie.
The three leave the stage before Montgomery pauses to glance in the direction of the massive gravesite set up beside the stage. They leave Brooklyn between a rock and a hard place, trapped in a match against a psychopath designed by three individuals precisely on his wavelength. And even though she’s starting from behind the eight ball, with her head already having taken a shot from the chair, she stands up and forms a stiff upper lip.
Dollar: Brooklyn Smith versus Ba’al…first blood…it’s next!
The camera cuts between the determined eyes of Brooklyn, and the grin inching across Ba’al’s face.
Its stretching time for the Trailer Park Kid…but he doesn’t do squats…he doesn’t do leg lifts….his aerobic preparation for the match tonight constitutes holding his baseball bat across the back of his neck and twisting from side to side. Black Magic Woman is in the process of polishing her nails in a chair behind her man as the greasy TPKid exudes some pressure on his unnecessarily big triceps.
Porno Lad: Hey-Hey, my man TP…how you be?
Black Magic Woman isn’t nearly as excited as her boyfriend to see the arrival of Porno Lad. It isn’t clear what has Kid more excited though, Porno Lad, or the belts weighing down his shoulders.
TPKid: Surviving Brother. What can I do for you?
Porno Lad: Oh nothing really…other than helping me hype up the main event this evening.
TPKid: Yeah, about that…
Kid rubs the back of his skull as he debates how to tackle this conundrum.
Porno Lad: Problems….You don’t want to make me lose my smile, now.
TPKid: Nah man…I’m totally cool with teaming with you tonight…but you’ll have to forgive me for being a bit reluctant to team with Dollar…I just don’t trust him, Brother.
Though this would normally be cause for his stomach to knot and hives to form on his flesh, Porno Lad remains as cool as ever…perhaps TOO COOL….just without worms and dance routines with a giant Samoan wearing a mawashi.
TPKid: The guy is driven by greed…nothing else….He’s not a TRUE Mega-Face….A Mega-Face would have never ran away during the beat down the TCWC was giving us. How do we know when the going gets tough that he‘ll be there to have our backs against the Blacklist?
Porno Lad: Relax….Kid….just chill out.
If only it were that easy.
Porno Lad: We can trust, ‘Rated G’ Johnny D….I mean, the man personally bankrolled the production of my brand new t-shirt…and he stuck to his word when he said he’d get me all the PR appearances I ever wanted…I totally got a guest spot coming up on Arsenio Hall….
TPKid: Really?
Porno Lad: Well more like a ticket to sit in the front row….but that’s guaranteed to get me some screen time. Plus, I’m going to be opening a K-Mart in Sheboygan.
TPKid: Wow….
Though Lad can be particularly dense at times, he can still hear the cynicism laden in Kid’s tone.
Porno Lad: Now-now, there’s no need to be jealous. I’m sure soon enough Dollar will let you ride beside me in his Adam West Batmobile, and possibly play with his personal Dragon Zord.
TPKid: I’m thrilled.
Porno Lad: I know what would put your mind at ease. It’s high time you wore something….Wore something that truly embodied our new team spirit.
A smirk stretches over the face of the trailer park denizen, quite enamored with the idea of clutching one of the Tag Team Title belts currently sitting upon Porno Lad’s shoulder.
Porno Lad: So prepare yourself for the honor of wearing this….
He lowers the Tag Title belt into his hand….only so he can maneuver enough to snatch the t-shirt out of his pocket. It’s unrolled to reveal Porno Lad’s new motto.
‘EAT EGG WHITES
‘READ IN PROPER LIGHTING
‘& NEVER WEAR SOCKS IN BED’
TPKid: Oh thanks….
The bat is handed to BMW so that the shirt can be stretched between TPKid’s palms, examining it with feigned enthusiasm.
Porno Lad: Do you think it’s purple enough?
TPKid: Erm sure…
In spite of this momentous honor bestowed upon TPKid, the Pornster is aware of the constant glances towards the title belts over his shoulders.
Porno Lad: Ah, you had your heart set on wearing something else, huh?
BMW: Fool…
She just couldn’t keep her tongue locked behind teeth.
BMW: He DESERVES to hold one of those Tag belts….he EARNED it by constantly watching your punk-ass.
This point is debatable for Porno Lad, who examines the championship in his palm and the earnest look in his partner’s eyes.
Porno Lad: Maybe you’ve got a point….But Dollar made his own sales-pitch earlier to hold one of the belts to represent the first three man tag team champions in IWC history…the Million-Dollar-Mega-Faces. So this poses a bit of a situation, doesn’t it?
BMW: Nah, it doesn’t….cause Dollar’s waxed ass don’t deserve no title belt.
Porno Lad: That’s your opinion tall dark and curvy…but the decision is a bit tougher than you think. So hmmm….
He stops, thinks and taps his lower lip in an ever so contemplative posture.
Porno Lad: I think I have a resolution.
BMW: Bout damn time.
Porno Lad: Only two of us can wear the Tag Team Title belts….and obviously, being the man who put this all together, and being the FACE of this company, I’d look naked without a championship….so in order to settle who holds the other belt to proudly represent the Million-Dollar-Mega-Faces, tonight, you and Johnny Dollar, you’ll have to prove just how face-tacular you actually are. You’ll have to show me and all the Porn-a-maniacs WHY you deserve to hold this belt.
TPKid: Haven’t I done enough already, by constantly having your back, Brother?
Porno Lad: And Johnny has done just as much to demonstrate he’s deserving of the championship. But tonight, will be the final test of your face-ticular fortitude. Show me just how great a face you can be tonight, Kid, and you’ll be holding one of these titles before the evening is out.
The gauntlet has been thrown down and Porno Lad makes a hasty retreat, leaving behind a thinking TPKid and an angry BMW.
BMW: That mofo can’t be serious.
TPKid Almost as serious as he is when it comes to styling his fro.
A light-bulb goes off above the head of the Trailer Park Kid, his pupils slowly rolling to the back of his eyes in order to look up at his bangs. Almost immediately the Black Magic Woman knows what’s going through her man’s mind.
BMW: Nah…don’t even tell me.
TPKid: HAS to be done.
BMW: Shiiiiiit….I’ll get the scissors.
Back live and Ba’al now has Brooklyn in the corner he was just leaning against, but Smith does not exude the same relaxed posture. It takes everything in her to keep upright as boot after boot after boot connects to her ribs, followed by a series of heinous right hands between the eyes.
Dollar: Seriously….I have to jump through even MORE hoops to hold the Tag Team Title belt?
Susie: We’re all subject to the awesomeness that is Porno Lad.
Dollar: Oh well….Rated G Johnny D will prove himself, and it won’t take as much work as Brooklyn Smith is going through to prove her abilities. We’ve returned to Riot!, in the midst of this FIRST BLOOD match…But you might be asking yourself, Johnny, why does your hair always look so awesome? Well…I’ll explain that after I’ve explained why this match was booked. The Blacklist put it together under the guise of controlling Brooklyn Smith, but I think we all know why they really put her against Ba’al in a match straight up his alley.
Susie: Because Mika was jealous of the perfect spacing of Brookyln’s nostrils?
Dollar: Gary Matt and Brooklyn Smith have made it abundantly clear that their here to target the Blacklist…well…the Blacklist are getting the jump on this war by forcing Smith to compete in a match designed to see to her annihilation.
Into a back elbow Smith is dragged, connecting right between her eyes and sending her spiraling back into the corner. A classic bionic elbow nails her to the scalp, right to the bump that formed as a result of that steel chair strike.
Ba’al: Where is that confidence…where is your arrogance now, young Brooklyn?
A knife edge chop then lands right across that swelling mass on Smith’s face. The stiff shot does not bust her open, but sends her twirling through ropes to the apron. Valiantly she struggles to reach her feet when Ba’al clasps a hand-full of her hair, charges her across the apron and ultimately pitches her face first into the exposed steel turnbuckle post. But Smith blocks it by grabbing the post, leaping into the air over the top rope, twisting her body and landing with shins on top of his opponent’s shoulders. She then drops down into a leg scissors, sending Ba’al’s face flying into the middle turnbuckle pad.
His skull bounces off and he goes rolling to the center of the ring, palm covering his face and keeping it invisible to both the referee and the fans.
Dollar: Brooklyn may have busted Ba’al….get in there, Ref.
Wright steps in to survey the damage but sees no blood as of yet…especially not enough to prompt him to call for the bell…considering he’s acting under strict orders to not stop this bout until there are puddles of claret secreted from either athlete.
Ba’al gets to his knees just as Brooklyn flies out of the ropes and drills him to the back of his skull with a scissors kick. The Prince of Sin’s forehead is driven with particular force against the canvas, but not forceful enough to bust him open. He rolls to his side and towards the ropes, grabbing them and beginning to ascend to his feet when Brooklyn charges in, goes airborne and nails him between the eyes with a knee. The strike sends Ba’al not just off his feet, but flipping backwards through the top and middle rope to the exterior of the ring.
Surprisingly he lands on his feet, but almost trips over the very chair he exploited moments ago. Adrenaline begins to surge through Smith, who takes off scrambling across the canvas then diving through the ropes just as Ba’al stands up and gets the chair into the air. But Brooklyn won’t be fooled twice, cause she allows the back of her head to hit the ropes instead of flying through the cables. This allows her to spring back and land on her feet in the middle of the ring instead of going head first into the chair.
Ba’al then leaps to the apron, chair still in hand, intent on employing it as a particularly helpful aid in extracting some blood from Brooklyn’s face. But it creates more grief than its worth, because Smith leaps into the air and dropkicks the chair right into the face of her opponent. Ba’al flies off the apron and lands…SURPRISINGLY…on his feet….perhaps channeling the spirit of the Angry Cat he verbally skewered at the last pay-per-view.
He balances himself at this point just as Brooklyn comes running across the ring and dives right over the top rope, sailing into her opponent with a big back first splash.
Dollar: SENTON from Brooklyn…I give it a 6.5!
Susie: Oh…I give it an infinity times thrice.
Dollar: Brooklyn knows she cannot let Ba’al get back into this match. She’s seen what this monster has been capable of when properly motivated.
Ba’al might be down…but he STILL has the chair in his hand, using it as a crutch to begin reaching his feet. Though she was equally as shaken up by the dive, Smith still steps in and begins to deliver right hand after right hand between the eyes of her opponent. She then slides back into the ring and grabs the top rope, preparing herself for another dive, but waiting…waiting until Ba’al is right in position.
He just gets up when over the top rope Brooklyn flies, sailing into a cross body…But it’s not her body that connects with anything…its her face…because Ba’al sets up the chair within a split second, then reaches out just as quickly, catches Smith by the hair and pulls her down out of the air face first into the seat of the steel.
Brooklyn’s head bounces back and she goes rolling across the mats gripping at that same swollen mass of tissue on her skull..
Susie: Is she bleeding? Is she bleeding? Someone grab her a tampon stat.
Dollar: I doubt that would plug the gash presumably opened in her forehead…if she’s been split by Ba’al that is.
The referee slides out of the ring to judge the damage done, but like a UN Peacekeeper trying to examine Iranian nukes….he’s denied access. Ba’al cuts him off, grabs the bangs of Smith and then rushes her across the ring before throwing her with all strength into the steel stairs. The back of Smith’s head and shoulders crash into the steel…putting her to her seat while the stairs remain stationary.
Ba’al then approaches the chair, ensnaring it into his clutches as he steps across the mats…putting distance between he and his prone opponent.
Dollar: This is about to go from worse to terrible for Smith.
Susie: Did they just announce twelve more original Home of the Holiday films on the Hallmark channel?
Dollar: No, I doubt Ba’al would even be inhuman enough to unleash something as heinous as that.
With chair in hand Ba’al rushes towards the prone Smith, about to go airborne and deliver a skater dropkick to her face with the chair under his feet for added damage. But out of the way Smith rolls in the nick of time, causing Ba’al to pause and alter his strategy. He instead waits for Brooklyn to reach her feet, and once she IS upright, the chair is tossed into her waiting clutches. She captures it in front of her face and then ducks just before Ba’al could decapitate her and drive the chair back into her face with a spinning heel kick.
The momentum of the botched kick sends Ba’al into a full spin before turning back towards Brooklyn, who throws the chair with the force of a ball out of a cannon directly into her opponent’s face. Ba’al staggers back but grounds himself while swiping palms down his face, ensuring there is no blood gushing from any new orifices.
The back of her opponent’s head is taken and Brooklyn leads him by it towards the ring, rolling him into the center…an apropos position. To the apron Brooklyn climbs, then to the top rope, steadying herself for the dive to perhaps lacerate the forehead. She steadies herself in an ultimate vantage point for taking flight. Finally she goes airborne, sailing through the air and extending her leg when Ba’al suddenly leaps to his feet, reaches out and catches her by the leg as she comes down. She crashes across her back with her leg caught in Ba’al’s clutches. He then grabs her other leg, lifting it up and tucking it beneath his armpit before dropping back into a catapult.
From her back to her face, Brooklyn is launched into the turnbuckle. Her skull bounces back from the turnbuckle pad, which may have busted her open. She then staggers back into the waiting clutches of Ba’al, who catches her by the back of the head and charges her face first into the top turnbuckle pad.
Dollar: Is she ripped…?
Susie: Actually she looks kind of scrawny.
Though HER bell may be rung, the literal ring bell has not…meaning that the match proceeds….just long enough at least for Ba’al to spin Brooklyn around, grab the back of her head and charge her across the ring, driving her face into the OPPOSITE turnbuckle.
Brookyln’s head bounces off and her brain bounces as well, within the confines of her skull. She then turns towards Ba’al, who continues to grip the back of her head and now charges her across the ring into ANOTHER turnbuckle. Her head ricochets back into the clutches of the Prince of Sin, who spins her around, nails a knee to her ribs and then rushes her into a fourth slamming of the head into the turnbuckle.
Smith stumbles back and falls to her spine…looking up at the heavens through flickering eyes….but NOT through a mask of blood. Wright confirms this and that the match will continue…drawing a smile from Ba’al….Who rolls to the outside of the ring and plucks a chair from the canvas, throwing it up high, catching it in his palms and then sliding it in under the ropes.
Dollar: Here comes the chair again.
Susie: It might be a more versatile athlete than anyone on this whole roster.
The chair is dropped to the canvas and Ba’al is about to extort it to his own misogynistic goals. He grabs his opponent by the hair and drags Smith towards the chair, flinging her down forehead first into the steel. She bounces off the laid out chair with a particular amount of brain rattling brutality.
He then pulls her up again and drives her face into the steel a second time…but there is still NO blood flowing. This prompts Ba’al to intensify his efforts, tying Brooklyn’s legs around his own and taking her wrists, pulling her up into position for the curb stomp. Just as he wedges his foot to the area just between Brookyln’s shoulder blades and threatens to drive her face into the steel in a truly repugnant and all together reprehensible fashion, Gary Matt demonstrates his valor, racing to the rescue of his cousin.
Promptly Ba’al shifts focus, turning eyes to Gary, at the same time that Brooklyn takes notice of him as well.
Brooklyn: NO Gary…DON’T!
The request gives pause to Gary, who lingers at ringside instead of lashing out in the ring.
Ba’al: Listen to the lady, Maniac, unless you presume that she’s incapable of holding her own. Which would be quite ego deflating, yes?
Obviously this isn’t what Brooklyn was thinking…at least not yet….because her true motivation for warding off Matt extended to the threat made by the Blacklist, that if he interfered, Gary would be forced to compete in an even more heinous bout.
Gary could care less about what horrors the Blacklist would unleash upon him, but acquiesces to the orders of Smith, letting her go at it.
Dollar: Matt coming out to aid his cousin but Brooklyn remembering what the Blacklist warned her about pre-match, if Gary interferes, then they’ll book him in an even worse match this evening. I shudder to think of what the Blacklist believes to be worse than a First Blood bout.
Ba’al does not give into instant gratification and keeps Brooklyn in position for the curb stomp into the chair for what seems like an eternity, all the while eying the pacing Gary at ringside.
Ba’al: You don’t have faith in your cousin….you don’t believe in her the same way she believes in herself? What is it that you DO believe in, Gary? Love perhaps…..unrequited love?
Gary is finding it more and more difficult to stay at ringside, biting his lower lip and clinching his fists until the skin in his palms threaten to rip from the pressure of his nails. All he can do is view the destruction of his cousin as Ba’al continues to torment she and he both.
Ba’al: But what has love done to you, Gary? It’s transformed you into a bitter, amoral soul. And now it threatens to destroy you once again should you lift a finger for the only person who continues to show you affection. So what are you to do, Maniac? Save the only person on this planet who still cares for you, or let love lead you down yet another path of destruction?
No more…Brooklyn cannot take another word oozing from Ba’al’s lips like venomous poison. She turns and delivers a drop toe hold, sending the face of Ba’al careening into steel. His skull ricochets from the chair and the referee instantly swoops in to determine rather blood has been drawn to the surface.
Dollar: Brooklyn taking the choice right out of her cousin’s hands and giving Ba’al a taste of steel.
Susie: Probably tastes like mint.
A struggling Ba’al ascends to his feet when Brooklyn rushes up behind him, snatches hold of his head and drives him down with a bulldog forehead first into that very same chair. The face of the Prince of Sin takes the full brunt impact of the collision with the chair and sends him rolling across the ring in the direction of the ropes.
Dollar: Was that it? Did she get blood?
Surprisingly Ba’al rises directly to his feet, albeit stumbling a bit as he reaches for the bruising skin across his forehead, which still has yet to bleed. Brooklyn cannot tolerate Ba’al any further, grabbing the chair off of the canvas and looking to end this by way of swinging the steel with all strength right into the top of his skull.
A huge indentation is left within the chair, and a large welt is forming across Ba’al’s head, but STILL no blood dribbles through this swollen flesh. The official closely examines the condition of Ba’al but still sees no blood, his head remaining free of any lacerations….scrapes…bruises and hematomas maybe, but no blood as of yet.
After its been confirmed that Ba’al is not bleeding, Brooklyn steps in and swings the chair again but this time it does not connect with the skull. Instead the steel is caught right in Ba’al’s grips as he rises to his feet and actually rips the weapon right out of his opponent’s clutches.
Ba’al: Already betraying your morals? So quick to stoop to my level? Well then….wer A sagt, muss auch B sagen.
The chair isn’t slammed against Brookyn’s skull and instead is tossed into Smith’s hands. Brooklyn looks very confused as she stares between the chair and its target, Ba’al’s skull.
Ba’al: Please, by all means, eviscerate me, play into the hands of the very individuals you claim to oppose….be their puppet, and be no better than the ill-bred lot you claim to oppose.
Brooklyn is given some food for thought…actually it’s more an all you can eat buffet. But she doesn’t succumb to food poisoning, instead she steadies herself and launches into another shot at Ba’al’s skull. But the moment’s hesitation is all he required to simply step aside, causing the steel to travel into the ropes, bounce off and fly back into Smith’s skull. The steel ricochets from her forehead, that very same bump that was formed as a result of Ba’al’s earlier shot with the weapon.
Ba’al then watches with hands interlocked behind his back and introspective eyes as the chair falls from Smith’s clutches and she collapses to her seat. She reaches for her face, the bruise that has begun to pump just a smidgen of blood. At once, like a shark, Ba’al hones in on this cut flesh, racing forward and delivering a devastating knee strike between the eyes, tearing the skin and sending crimson oozing through the flesh.
Aside steps Ba’al, again interlocking hands behind his back and patiently watching as the official examines the bleeding forehead of Brooklyn then calls for the bell.
Dollar; And it’s over…it looks like Ba’al has caused Brooklyn to bust herself open with that chair, and then helped exacerbate the process with the knee to the skull.
Susie: All that blood is going to ruin her blouse.
The fans are quite upset with the way this has panned out, Ba’al using his methods of manipulation to draw blood from Brooklyn’s skin. A palm is swiped across the blood dribbling down Brooklyn’s face…but this is not good enough for Ba’al. The official turns to call for the bell but has his wrist caught in the clutches of the Prince of Sin.
Ba’al: I believe MASS quantities of blood were required, yes?
Wright defiantly shakes his head, insisting that Ba’al let him go and that this match is over, but a boot to the ribs keeps him from ending things in an official capacity. He is then caught by the back of the head and the referee is pitched through the ropes to the outside of the ring. Ba’al then returns focus to the bleeding Brooklyn, sliding a blade ring from his back pocket and slipping it over his index finger.
Dollar: Ba’al not satisfied….he wants buckets of blood….he wants to stick to the rules of the match as set by the Blacklist….who said they don’t want a few droplets of blood….they want ounces.
Susie: What a good little employee…He should get the employee of the month reward.
With finger knife drawn and at the ready Ba’al stoops down and grabs Brooklyn’s hair, pulling her bloodied face from the canvas.
Ba’al: Let’s take a little off the top shall we?
The bladed finger moves to the hairline, about to scalp Brooklyn before Matt has finally reached the end of his rope. All semblance of restraint is gone as he rolls into the ring and rushes straight towards Ba’al. But the man reliant on sadism and manipulation, rises to his feet to meet Gary no longer with a war of words…instead his fists do all of his speaking.
Susie: Gar-Bear’s had enough.
Dollar: Ba’al worked the last nerve of these two….but he was only doing what he was tasked with tonight I suppose. The Blacklist put this match together to punish Brooklyn, and that’s exactly what Ba’al was doing. Gary should understand that.
The fists continue to fly between both men before Ba’al swipes his bladed ring at Gary’s head. Matt ducks in time to avoid it and then plucks the chair off the canvas. He swings it right into Ba’al’s ribs, doubling him over and sending him spiraling across the ring. The maniacal and enigmatic Ba’al turns away from a vengeful Matt, but once his eyes return to his attacker, Gary swings the chair directly at his skull.
But Ba’al not only avoids the chair by way of a duck, but then takes a fortuitous roll, ending up back on his feet. That’s when Gary spins around and receives a step up enzugari to the back of his skull, causing him to drop the chair and to fall to his knees.
Dollar: Good lord, now Ba’al drops Gary Matt…is there a soul on this roster who can stop this man?
Gary slowly works his way back up to his feet when Ba’al swoops in at his side and nails a running knee to his cheek. To his back rolls Gary, unable to respond against this onslaught. He tries to get up but gets nowhere, receiving a boot to his chest that puts him to his spine. Ba’al then falls to his knees beside him as the dagger extends towards his flesh.
Ba’al: You never learn, do you, Gary?
Just as the blade begins to embed into the scalp of Matt, a chair embeds itself into the spinal column of Ba’al. Brooklyn has regained her senses and is now assaulting the man who so vindictively brutalizes her cousin.
The chair has put Ba’al on his stomach, squirming across it like a serpent towards the ropes. The cables are snatched and employed as crutches to aid Ba’al to his feet when Brooklyn races up behind him, about to crack his back with the steel once again. But Ba’al turns just in time to deliver a swift uppercut right to Brooklyn’s jaw, putting her back a few paces with the chair lowered in front of her shins. Ba’al capitalizes on this moment, racing forward and delivering a front dropkick so fiercely to the chair that it drives it back into the knees of his adversary.
Smith flips forward and collapses to her back, the chair falling out of her clutches. He then approaches his latest victims with not just the blade wrapped finger, but the steel chair that has founds its way back into his clutches.
Dollar: We might be witnessing the end of Gary Matt and Brooklyn Smith…which is EXACTLY what the Blacklist was anticipating.
Ba’al steps over Brooklyn and wedges a chair to her throat, leaning down into it while doing…you guessed it…much more talking.
Ba’al: Such hubris, Brooklyn.
The chair rises above Ba’al’s head, about to come down into a trachea crushing blow….
STATIC
Mr. Gaunt: Mr. Lord of Flies….
Upon the Cartel-tron materializes, Gaunt…Mr. Gaunt….that is….His surroundings once again nothing but a dense encompassing blanket of shadows.
Mr. Gaunt: Deja-vu. How repetitious that we find ourselves in these positions once more. You standing there in your mascara drenched brows, and me, standing here in all my omnipotent glory. However, unlike the pay-per-view, events will proceed a bit differently this evening. There will be no Bob-Rabbits, no cans of Spam, no horrid attempts at humorous video game references…no….that time is over. Now that we know where we stand, Mr. Lord of Flies, it’s time we progress to the next logical step in this macabre and ever so twisted drama….
STATIC
The lights in the arena rise to reveal the puzzled gleam in Ba’al’s eyes and palms no longer occupied by a chair and a blade ring. Instead of clutching steel he grips squirming pests…taking the form of maggots.. They ooze through his fingers and inch up his arms, beginning to submerge his flesh beneath layers upon layers of insects. Though fans turn their repulsed faces from the grotesque imagery within the ring…Ba’al gazes upon the infestation….and looks nonplused…actually…he grins.
That grin slowly transforms into a chuckle as maggot drenched arms stretch to his sides and his chin lowers to his chest, embodying the figure of a crucified Christ.
Ba’al: Is this it? Is this what is supposed to inspire fear, Gaunt? Pitiable.
STATIC
Back to the Cartel-tron, and back to Leeland Gaunt’s darkened labyrinth.
Mr. Gaunt: No? Maggots fail to rouse you? Hmmm, I think we can do a tad better. Wasn‘t there a demand for….blood?
STATIC
The arena lights have taken on the eeriest of red shades, enhancing the rain that cascades down from the rafters and spills over Ba’al’s already maggot enveloped arms and body. But its not water that drips down Ba’al’s frame….it’s blood…Luckily Matt and Smith have rolled to the outside, recovering and avoiding a saturation. Anyone would normally go rushing to the back to cleanse themselves of this blood bathing but Ba’al….he actually twirls amongst the crimson shower…maggot piled arms extending to his sides. He finds the biggest puddle that has formed in the middle of the ring and drops to his knees upon it, splashing even more blood onto his clothing.
Dollar: Ba’al is actually…actually DANCING in the blood.
Susie: I’m surprised he’s not trying to catch it on the tip of his tongue…God help us if he starts making blood angels.
As the soaking blood continues to cascade down his fashionable attire, making him look more and more like the protagonist of Carrie, Ba’al laughs…yes…he seems to be…rejoicing?
STATIC
The Cartel-tron reveals a legitimately vexed Mr. Gaunt. The handle of his cane is raised to his temple, scratching at it in a display of….confusion? Yes…for the first time in his reign of terror, Mr. Gaunt is at a loss.
Mr. Gaunt: Well now, it appears that your quite intent to no sell the effects of the phantasmagorical horrors I have unleashed upon you. It appears you’ll be a tougher nut to crack.
A finger taps against his jaw.
Mr. Gaunt: But do not allow yourself to believe you’re above fear. By the end of this night you WILL crack…I will find the soft spot and like a clam on an otter’s belly, you will be shattered.
STATIC
The ominous threat delivered to Ba’al leaves him not in suspense, but grinning with amusement. Even as he kneels there, dripping with blood and maggots, Ba’al is STILL running his mouth.
Ba’al: MEHR! MEHR!!
The pleas fail to elicit a response….for now.
Dollar: This is just all types of twisted.
What’s even more twisted is what’s delivered at that very moment. In the midst of all Ba’al’s gesticulating, he takes his eyes off of Matt and Brooklyn. Gary slips in undetected and catches the arms of Ba’al from behind, heaving him up off of the canvas into a full nelson slam that flings him down spine first right onto the raised knee of Brooklyn…The two hitting a full nelson/back breaker tag team combination on the individual who tormented them so. Before any further damage can be inflicted via the combined efforts of these crusading cousins, Ba’al leaves the ring via a roll.
Dollar: A small measure of revenge by Matt and Smith.
Susie: What do you measure it with? I think Mr. Hush had a tape measurer at the pay-per-view you can use.
Ba’al backs away from the ring clutching at his kidneys but smiling nevertheless.
Ba’al:: Mehr….mehr….
Leeland Gaunt has just finished airing his ominous warning before turning to address another crowd…the trio of Crusaders waiting in the wings…just as off camera as they are off their rockers.
Mr. Gaunt: It seems all is going accordingly.
Al: BUT THAT FLY-BITTEN HORN-BEAST FAILED TO REACT TO YOU’RE PRESTIDIGITATION WHATSOEVER.
Mr. Gaunt: Relax, Mr. Meriweather, this is all part of that delicate feeling out process…By the end of this evening, that fly-bitten horn-beast will quiver…he will fear the Black Crusade.
The petri-dish in his pocket is fingered by Mr. Gaunt…the dish containing the blood spilt by Ba’al at the pay-per-view.
Mr. Gaunt: Every man has their fear, it’s just a process of discovering it, which is where the three of you shall prove instrumental.
All ears perk up.
Mr. Gaunt: Mr. Hush, Mrs. Silence. Mr. Meriweather, tonight the three of you will find what inspires Ba’al’s lip to tremble and for his underpants to be saturated with urine.
Silence: Does he where underpants, or go commando?
Al: GIVEN THE DECIBLE OF HIS TONE, I WOULD ASSUME HE WEARS AN ENTIRELY TOO TIGHT FITTING SPEEDO WHICH FORCES HIS TESTICLES INTO HIS INTESTINES.
Mr. Gaunt: All questions to be answered at a later date, but this evening I’m only concerned with indulging one inquiry.
Al: WE SHALL DO OUR DUE DILIGENCE, MR. GAUNT, WE SHALT NOT FAIL YE.
All three individuals are off and running, now tasked with discovering the chink in Ba’al’s armor. Mr. Gaunt is about to follow suit but only gets so far before hearing a throat clearing. Obviously the cough was in no way intended to clear phlegm…but was designed to get Mr. Gaunt’s attention….which it does…the artist of the arcane arts, turning to examine the tentative Jacob Laymon positioned behind him. But Laymon is not alone, for he is flanked by Executioner and several members of the security staff.
Laymon: Mr. Gaunt….we care for a word.
Mr. Gaunt: Ah yes, I can imagine you have several words, the majority of which being of the four letter variety, for me. And I see that you’ve brought along your masked power house, who has appeared, of late, to be more akin to an out-house. Which is fitting, as the moment the two of you appear on screen, viewers use the opportunity to dash to the bathroom.
Laymon: Easy now, Gaunt….
Mr. Gaunt: MISTER….oh forget it…quite the wasted effort.
Jacob’s bark is a bit louder when standing behind the wall of muscle he’s brought along with him.
Laymon: Listen, Gaunt…
Leeland sneers.
Laymon: If it weren’t for the camera-crew you summoned back here, we never would have found you…we’ve been scouring the halls all night long in search of you.
Mr. Gaunt: I feel so beloved.
Laymon: I’m here by edict of the Blacklist.
Mr.. Gaunt: This should be splendid. Go ahead puppet, recite the Blacklist’s decree.
Laymon: Whatever gets me away from you quicker. The Blacklist has requested…no DEMANDS…that you make Legion available tonight, and do so at their beckon call.
The thought amuses Mr. Gaunt so, to the point where he almost produces a smile…ALMOST.
Mr. Gaunt: They want Legion do they?
Laymon: Yes…they have PLANS that require the use of your INFALLIBLE monster.
Mr. Gaunt: And why should I produce, Legion?
Laymon: Because if you don’t, the Blacklist has promised that they will burn the contracts of all Black Crusade members this evening…starting with your own…
Instead of reacting with a certain level of fear or apprehension, Mr. Gaunt responds with a smile…this time not of the ALMOST variety.
Mr. Gaunt: It seems that my hands are tied then…
Laymon: They are Mr. Gaunt….it’s about time somebody finally made you play ball.
Mr. Gaunt: Really? I was under the assumption that I was quite the company man. I’ve done so much for the betterment of this federation, such as operating the production truck, officiating several matches, and even offering my services to run this telecast. And tonight, I’m even going to help you on the personal front, Mr. Laymon.
Jacob’s face suddenly goes white.
Laymon: Wha….wha…what is that supposed to mean?
Mr. Gaunt: As I understand it, Mr. Laymon, you and your beefy brute here….
Gesturing to Executioner….who reacts with a shudder.
Mr. Gaunt: …are taking exception to the fact that you’ve recently been demoted to mere secretarial status.
He’ll never say it, but the brief nod implies that Laymon is indeed flustered by his recent demotion.
Mr. Gaunt: I can assist the two of you in finding a more suitable use for your talents. Jobs more deserving of men of such renown and high breeding.
Laymon and Executioner exchange another glance, legitimately surprised that Mr. Gaunt would be willing to aid them in any capacity.
Laymon: Well….I’m glad to hear that, Gaunt, that you can put our past differences behind us.
Mr. Gaunt: It’s as Mr. Cagero implied at the pay-per-view, the Black Crusade forgives and forgets….
Laymon: That’s mighty big of you.
Mr. Gaunt: Think nothing of it, Mr. Laymon. All I ask in return is that you make yourselves available when the appointed time comes.
Laymon: That shouldn’t be a problem.
Mr. Gaunt: Superb.
A desperate attempt is being made by the ring-crew to cleanse the canvas of the blood that has drenched it. Mops and sponges get up some of the fluids secreted from the rafters…but it is still quite thick in certain areas. Two individuals who do not lend assistance in cleaning the ring are Brooklyn Smith and Gary Matt, the cousins stepping around the ring and towards the ramp, employing one another as crutches after their run in with Ba’al.
Harrison: Ummmm…where do the two of you think your going?
Brooklyn and Gary instantly stop and look up towards the stage where Harrison once again stands, microphone in hand….still looking quite dapper in his fashionable suit.
Harrison: Did I not warn the two of you that there would be consequences if you attempted to create an atmosphere of chaos here on the Blacklist’s Riot!?
Gary and Brooklyn exchange a look…wondering how they can possibly be blamed for the macabre happenings of a few moments ago.
Harrison: Did you think we were bluffing or the type of pushovers that Orlando Cruze or Desmond Drake are….no…the Blacklist stands by our decrees….For flagrantly violating our orders, you WILL compete right now, Gary…and you know what….since you’ll probably try to interfere anyway…you…Brooklyn Smith will compete as well…in a two on four handicap match….and your opponents….the End Effect.
With quickness Harrison moves from stage to curtains, stepping through them just as the opening intro to the End Effect theme blares through the PA system. Stunned doesn’t even begin to describe the reaction from the fans and the two athletes in obvious pain on the stage. The response doesn’t get any better when the curtains part, and through them emerges Jackson Adams, Rain, Priest, and Brandy Danielle being accompanied by Fury.
Dollar: This is…this is just WRONG! Wrong on so many levels. A four on two handicap match? End Effect versus Brooklyn Smith and Gary Matt? And we’re gonna see it….next?
Susie: Let me find out from my Magic 8 Ball.
Dollar: Put that thing away and put it away right now! Gary Matt and Brooklyn Smith versus the End Effect….and this unspeakable horror will be unleashed upon us…after the commercial break….stay tuned.
If there was anyone who would desire a flip of the station, it be the Maniac and Smith…wishing to gaze upon anything that isn’t the smirks on the faces of End Effect as they slowly approach the ring.
Catch the Replay on Pay-Per-View
The sight of Aaron Harrison continues to be ill-received by the flabbergasted fans, who have already had their fill of the Blacklist. But the night is just getting started…hence why there are so many wreaths of dead flowers and collages featuring numerous images from IWC’s past gathered along the walls at Harrison’s side…all props for the funeral to be held this evening. One of the many bundles of roses has been taken up into the arms of Montgomery, who is removing some petals and tossing them to the ground…The very floor Mika is seated on currently, Indian style, to rest her legs.
Mika: Hey Cowboy….we’ve got a question for you.
Harrison: And I have your answer.
Mika: Why are you letting that sack of human excrement, known as Legion, continue to breath after everything he’s put us through?
Montgomery: The man has made us look like a bunch of fools, Aaron.
Mika: And my mouth still tastes like maggots.
Aaron just doesn’t answer, but gets down on Mika’s level to do so. He sits on the floor beside her in his own Indian style squat.
Harrison: Destroying Legion would be too easy, my Mika…We would only be making a martyr of him. And Legion, he doesn’t deserve martyr status. He needs to be seen for what he, and the Black Crusade truly are…monsters…
Montgomery: We do love the way you’re mind works, Aaron.
Harrison: My mind? I thought our brain was more communal.
Gestures are made between himself, Mika and Montgomery.
Mika: It is my Cowboy….because I know exactly where your going with this. First, Legion shows his true colors to the crowd so anxious to support him…destroying his legacy…
Montgomery: Ahhhhh-huh, THEN we move in and destroy what’s left.
Harrison: See…communal.
His temple is tapped.
Harrison: You just don’t give in to your baser impulses and attack a man like Legion straight on. That would be useless. It takes time, it takes patience.
Montgomery: That’s ALMOST as genius as what we have in store for Orlando.
Harrison: If he has the courage to show up first hand tonight and witness the burial of his precious Independent Wrestling Cartel that is.
Mika: Oh….he’ll show up….I’m sure of it.
That I-Phone that has both filmed and created so much chaos in the past, is removed from Mika’s pocket and employed to send a text.
Harrison: While your at it, my Mika…would you be so kind as to send a message to my secretary, Laymon?
Mika: Of course….
Harrison: Tell him to have Legion ready…he’s going to be needed very soon.
A smile stretches over Montgomery’s face….but Mika only FEIGNS glee…or any emotions really…as she sends the message.
Montgomery: Speaking of needs…can I borrow some of these flowers?
Harrison: By all means, Lukie…Mika went a bit too overboard when it came to purchasing for the funeral this evening.
Mika: But all the flowers were just so pretty…I couldn’t pick only a few.
Harrison’s hand, which anyone would normally shy away from or cower beneath, causes Mika to melt as it runs through her hair.
Harrison: Oh how I adore your excessiveness, my Mika. I love you so…Which is why I feel so bad for putting all this undue stress on you over the past few weeks.
Mika: I know how much getting your hands on Orlando means to you.
Harrison: But my pursuit to get Cruze one on one for the Championship, just so I can deny him what means the most to him….it came at your expense, my Mika, the expense of your family. So I’ll tell you what I’ll do….I’ll HEAL the Chase family….YOUR family.
Mika: Heal us….How Cowboy?
Harrison: The divide between sisters will be closed….and at last, you’re family will be brought together.
There is a grin evident on Harrison’s face that causes hairs the world over to go white.
No…the match advert wasn’t wrong….Brooklyn Smith is STILL in the ring…about to be forced to compete for the third time…but on this occasion, she has her cousin at her side…But even the presence of Gary Matt does little to alleviate concern over being forced to face the four individuals standing on the apron in front of them….the End Effect.
Dollar: Welcome back to Riot!, ladies and gentlemen….and you’re actually seeing this….Gary Matt and Brooklyn Smith are being forced to compete in a two on four handicap match because of their inability to follow the rules. But come on…we all know what this is TRULY about…
Susie: Bad breath?
Dollar: No…the fact that Gary and Brooklyn have made it apparent that they have BAD intentions in store for the Blacklist….and even attacked them on their first night in the IWC. This is all retribution.
There is no worry by the IWC about blood spilling to the canvas from Brooklyn’s skull, considering the ring is already smeared in crimson. But Gary tries to have Brooklyn hold a towel to the laceration on her skull to keep the blood loss at a minimum. In the process of lending aid to his cousin, Gary turns his back on Adams, who takes full advantage of this…and the preexisting injuries inflicted on Matt by Ba’al. A double axe handle smash connects with Gary’s upper back, knocking him to the canvas.
Dollar: And now an attack from behind on top of everything else…This is just wrong on so many levels.
The attack takes Gary down and now he’s subjected to a barrage of boots, Adams putting them to his body over and over and over again. Every time that Gary tries to get up, he’s hit with another boot to either the face, the chest, the shoulder or the stomach. Adams circles him and delivers these stomping blows, keeping Gary to the canvas.
Adams: Come on hero…come on newbie…
Jackson has the audacity to pull Gary up to his knees and slap him across the cheek…yes…he went there.
Adams: Guess you haven’t been around long enough to learn that you don’t mess with Jackson Adams…
Yep…he even mentioned himself in the third person.
Adams: And everyone will learn what happens when you fuck with the End Effect. Shit like this.
All five knuckles nail Gary between the eyes and put him on his back…At this moment Jackson cannot help himself…he turns away from Matt, extends his arms out to his sides and begins to showboat…He even throws in a Ric Flair style strut to further antagonize the crowd. The strut continues even as Gary kips up to his feet behind Jackson and now burns a hole into the back of his eyes with his penetrating gaze. Finally Jackson turns around when he hears Fury slapping the apron and warning him quite verbosely. The strut turns into a slap, Jackson spinning to face Gary only to have his face spun back around with an open palm connecting to his cheek.
Adams turns into a full spin while Gary does his own strut…one met with greater fan fare. The strut carries him towards Adams, who he grabs by the shoulder and spins into a punch that puts him to his back. Jackson then scrambles across the canvas to get away from Gary, immediately wrapping his arms around the waist of Brandy and wedging his cheek against her crotch.
Dollar: Hahaha….wonderful….just wonderful…Gary making Jackson pay for flapping his lips and just being Jackson Adams.
It’s at this point that Priest reaches over the ropes, slaps the shoulder of Adams and brings himself into this encounter. The giant steps over the top cable and then takes some imposing strides towards Gary, who surprisingly does not back down or flinch even when faced with the power of the End Effect.
Power that is about to rip Gary’s head off. He reaches out with giant mitts…but they miss their target…Matt slipping under them and then behind his opponent. Priest turns around and gets a right to the jaw, followed by another, and then a chop across the sternum, followed by another, and then a kick to the gut, followed by another, and then a third punch….nope….Priest catches the fist in his palm and pushes it to the side, exposing Matt’s skull to the giant bionic elbow, nailing him between the eyes and putting him on his back.
But Gary is driven by anger…inspiring him to race right back to his feet only to be hoisted up and onto Priest’s shoulder. He then rushes across the ring and is on the verge of throwing Matt down into the turnbuckle with a snake eyes….but the Maniac slides off at the last second…No, he doesn’t just slip off, but lands behind Priest, grabs his arms and actually tries to heave him up into the full nelson slam….tries…but does not succeed.
Dollar: This really is not a great idea, Gary, I know your strong, but not strong enough to take this monster off his feet.
Priest looks annoyed as Gary tries to hoist him up again but only strains his own back. But even more pressure is put on the back when Priest slips to Gary’s side, reaching out and catching him around the waist, before heaving him up and into the side slam…A side slam that equals all types of devastation…All the fight and drive is knocked out of Gary’s body, leaving him in a state of perpetual agony. He turns instinctively towards his corner and extends his arm before it dawns on him that he’s about to bring a bloodied, Brooklyn into the match, prompting him to lower his hand.
Dollar: And Gary can’t even make the tag to Brooklyn….she’s still too shaken up from her confrontation with Ba’al…This is pretty reprehensible, and as a newly anointed member of the FACE community….I stand in total opposition to this.
Susie: I’m so proud to see you come around to being the Mega-Face I knew you could be.
Dollar: Well…Porno Lad is just a constant inspiration in those regards….especially now that we’re holding the prestigious Tag Team Championships.
Gary avails himself to the fact that he CANNOT make the tag, prompting him to start fighting his way back to his feet only to have Priest snatch hold of his hair, drag him up and then drag him onto his shoulder. Across the ring dashes Priest before throwing Matt down with the snake eyes right across the turnbuckle. His head bounces off and Matt staggers back right into Priest’s clutches, being caught around the waist and then heaved up into the most devastating of back drop suplexes.
Priest then rolls across the ring to his knees, surveying the results of his savagery before reaching out and making the tag to Rain. Up the turnbuckle Rain ascends, waiting for Gary to stand up…and that’s just what Matt is doing. He stands just as Rain leaps from the top rope and takes him down with a cross body, knocking the two to the canvas. Rain then rolls across the ring to his feet and then charges at the cables to Gary’s side. He leaps to the middle rope, springing off into a moonsault towards the rising Gary, who suddenly catches the masked man right on top of his shoulder.
Fury’s eyes widen at ringside upon observing Rain being thrown from Gary’s shoulder up onto Matt’s palms and then gorilla pressed into a giant slam. Rain hits the ring then rolls across it to his feet into another hit, this one in the form of a big running boot that puts to the jaw that puts him on his back. The crowd is absolutely elated as Gary finds a way to keep on surviving against the End Effect…Even as Brandy springs to the top rope and takes flight. Once again Gary catches an opponent against his shoulder, holding Danielle in a bear hug before dropping back into a release over head suplex.
Danille crashes into the canvas and then Gary rolls to his feet before using them to dropkick Priest’s shins, knocking his feet out from under him. The big man lands on his feet across the mats then staggers back…not showing the effects of his collisions and instead wearing a mash of righteous indignation.
That expression changes when Gary is spun around into a big thrust kick under the jaw by Adams. The kick has knocked Gary backwards into the clutches of Rain and Danielle. The two have recovered and now have hold of Matt’s arms, using them to force Gary down to his knees.
Dollar: Oh come on….look at this…just look at this…..The number’s game way too much for Matt and Brooklyn…and the End Effect just toying with these two now.
Smith, in spite of her injuries, has seen enough, throwing aside the bloody towel wedged to her forehead and now beginning to slide through the ropes. She only gets so far before finding her ankle snagged in the hands of Priest. He uses his immense strength to keep a desperate Smith from reaching her cousin…a cousin being slapped to both cheeks by a furious Adams.
Adams: They bring you in? They give you opportunities while I have to sit at home? While my legacy is disrespected!?! Your no Jackson Adams….Your not one tenth of what I am….
He pulls his fist back to deliver blows to the prone face of Matt, who is only antagonizing Jackson by shouting a string of derogatory comments at Adams.
Gary: Nah…I’m a thousand times better than you, Adams….Plus I have a high-school diploma, so suck on it.
Rain: The only thing you’re gonna suck on is Jackson’s fist you bitch!
And that’s exactly what Adams is about to put through Gary’s lips….but doesn’t get the opportunity when Nathan Creed slides into the ring to an explosive roar of approval from the crowd.
Adams spins around just in time to be hit with a lariat to the throat from a furious Creed. Rain then breaks away from Gary to save his teammate, but ends up charging into an equally as vicious lariat to the throat, putting him to his back. Gary uses this opportunity and does so wisely, reaching up with his free hand to grab the woman clutching his trapped one, taking hold of Brandy’s tights and flipping her over to the canvas.
Danielle rolls across the canvas to her feet, standing up in front of the ropes just as Gary rushes in and delivers a lariat to her throat, flipping her over the cables. He then joins in with Creed on delivering chops and forearms to the faces of both Adams and Rain, eventually dumping the pair from the ring. Nathan’s arrival has shifted momentum, giving Brooklyn just the confidence she needs to leap from the apron, landing on Priest’s shoulder then spinning him around into a hurricarana. Priest flips over and crashes across his back.
Dollar: Nathan Creed helping Gary and Brooklyn clean house of the End Effect…I like this…this is definitely something I can get on board with.
Susie: All aboard the HOOOO train.
Dollar: Thanks for that completely irrelevant reference to the Attitude Era.
Susie: You’re so welcome.
The crowd is beyond hyped as Nathan’s hands no longer find their way into the face of Adams, but around the microphone handed to him through the ropes by Thomas Boll. An aggravated End Effect has regrouped on the ramp, all the members slapping each other and trying to get themselves fired up after that run in from Creed turned the tide out of their favor.
Nathan: I hope you don’t think this is over, Jacky.
The only thing that could conclude the End Effect huddle, are the attention grabbing roars of Creed, who stands beside the kneeling Brooklyn and Matt. Both athletes are feeling the effects of their earlier run in with Ba’al, meaning Creed is the only one capable of standing…and standing up for the trio.
Nathan: You’re not going anywhere until you give me an explanation. I think I’ve earned that…Adams….I think you can at least show me that respect.
Adams has already heard his fill…snapping his fingers and insisting upon the use of the microphone….Thomas dashes around the ring to dish out ANOTHER mic….so Adams can DISH out some insults.
Jackson: Are you fucking serious? Respect….you want RESPECT? Where’s MY respect…where’s MY appreciation?
Creed has heard his fill as well…and wants to regurgitate already.
Nathan: Really, Adams? Is this really what it’s all about? Feeling under appreciated? Haven’t we been down this route before? Is it not a bit redundant?
Jackson: Well it’s true, Creed. I’ve never been so disrespected in my entire fucking life. I was the first person to sign my name to a contract here in the IWC…I’ve been loyal through and through….But the IWC doesn’t appreciate that loyalty…Orlando Cruze….the man who I’ve shown the MOST loyalty to these past few months…let the man who drugged me slip through his fingers instead of giving him the punishment he deserved. That was a slap in the face, Creed….it was the biggest insult I’ve ever suffered.
Nathan: No…you haven’t even begun to be insulted yet, Adams.
Rain: Silence your insolent tongue, Creed.
The microphone has been plucked from Jackson’s hands and Rain picks up precisely where Adams left off….already finishing his sentences.
Rain: You want to know why Jackson has joined the ranks of End Effect? Look at how the man has been besmirched by this company over and over again….You’re precious Orlando Cruze spat in his eye even though Adams stood by him when no one else would…But we in the End Effect see Jackson’s talents and appreciate them….We know he’s a legend….He’s a true ICON…the crowned jewel of the IWC…and now the crowned jewel of the End Effect.
The microphone is restored to Adams.
Jackson: It’s just like the End Effect said at the pay-per-view…their a family free of dissension…of betrayal…of judgment….and now their MY family….a family that will annihilate this federation and anyone stupid enough to stand in our paths.
Creed seems to be thinking about something…hence why he has a finger raised to his jaw, lightly stroking the stubble.
Nathan: Well…no one’s ever accused me of being the smartest bloke on the planet….So I guess that’s why I’m willing to risk…’annihilation’…by challenging the End Effect right here…right now….
The crowd really likes this…as does everyone in or around the ring…including the End Effect.
Nathan: But I won’t be facing the four of you alone…Gary…Brooklyn…
Finally the two are capable of standing as they are addressed by Britain’s Finest.
Nathan: Lady…gent…if you’re still up for it…I’d like to take you up on your offer to stand beside me and ignite that purging fire you referenced at the pay-per-view.
Gary: Sure….I’ve only just started to get my hands dirty tonight.
The microphone moves from one set of lips to another.
Brooklyn: I’m getting my fifth wind….let’s do this!
The courageous statement gets a big pop from the crowd but laughter from the End Effect.
Jackson: Are you three truly aware of what you’re requesting? You actually want a three on four handicap match against the End Effect? You really are a bunch of MANIACS.
The End Effect approaches the ring and are on the verge of circling their prey but someone else demands their attention at the moment.
Dollar: Perhaps, gentlemen…and lady….they’re NOT as crazy as you think.
Dollar stands up behind the announce table with microphone in one hand and a Tag Team Title belt griped in the other.
Dollar: It’s moments like these where I ask myself…WWPLD? What would Porno Lad do? I think he would assume the role of partner for Gary, Creed and Brooklyn and make this match totally fair and square. Which is why I…Rated G Johnny D, will gladly stand beside these ‘MANIACS’ in order to PURGE the IWC of the End Effect.
Microphone falls to table and Johnny waltzes around it while removing his jacket and tossing it to Susie.
Susie: Ewww….silky…And oh yeah…go get’em Johnny…This will definitely give you some brownie points with Porno Lad.
To the apron Johnny leaps as Gary, Nathan and Brooklyn give him THAT stare. Referee Fitzpatrick, who’s elbow is getting sore from all the officiating he’s done thus far, signals for the bell once the End Effect have taken position.
Susie: So we’re getting a four on four tag team match now? Absolutely awesome on so many levels it defies awesomeness.
The bell has rung and once everyone has been cleared to the apron at the insistence of Gary, Adams rushes up behind him, throwing a lariat at the back of his head. This time Gary turns just before he can be hit from behind, catching the knees of Adams and back dropping him through the air. Jackson catches tremendous height before ultimately splatting across the ring. He then rolls across it, scrambling to his feet and directly into a big hip toss from Gary.
Jackson crashes into the canvas and Gary’s hand crashes into the outstretched palm of an adamant Creed….DETERMINED to get in there against the man who backstabbed him at Upping the Ante. The Tag is made and into the fracas enters Creed, who rushes across the ring to get his hands on Adams only to have Jackson desperately crawl away from him before slapping Brandy on the knee.
Susie: That coward….
Jackson rolls out and Brandy slides in right through the ropes before rushing at Creed, trying to capitalize on his distraction…eyes firmly locked on Adams and Adams alone. But he turns focus to Brandy just in time to reach out and catch the creases of her knees, putting her on her back and then stepping through the legs. Instantly Creed gets her over to her chest with a modification of the sharpshooter that gets a BIG pop.
Susie: Is she gonna tappy tap before Johnny D even gets the opportunity to climb in there?
Leaning against the ropes from his corner, Dollar watches intently, hoping he won’t actually have to lift a finger to interact in this match. Brandy twists from side to side, trying to prevent quick loss for the End Effect. Eventually Jackson races back into the ring behind Creed, grabs the back of his head and tights, charges him at the turnbuckle and throws him through…shoulder first, into the exposed steel post.
The clavicle shattering collision with the post causes Creed’s arm to go limp…but does not remove his resolve. Brandy gets back to her knees, scoots across them and tags in Rain, bringing in her slightly fresher partner.
Rain slides into the ring and occupies the corner opposite to Creed, who is in the process of standing up with his back wedged against the turnbuckle. Just as he gets to a full upright base, Rain dashes in, leaps through the air, and hit’s a running cross body into the ribs of Nathan, doubling him over. All the while Rain slides through the ropes at his side and then pushes down on the back of Nathan’s head, shoving him to the canvas.
Susie: Ewww…the man in the mask has got the advantage. This could be epic levels of bad.
Rain climbs the turnbuckle, ascending to the top rope while Nathan crawls to the middle of the ring, beginning to reach his feet. He just stands up when Rain flies out of the corner and delivers a big front dropkick right to Creed’s chest, lifting him up off of his feet and taking him down to the canvas.
Rain then rolls backwards right into his corner, slapping the outstretched hand of Adams. Jackson slides into the ring and then rushes up right towards Nathan, grabbing his legs, lifting them into the air then stomping way south of the belt, directly to the gonads. The official instantly wants to call for the bell but instead jumps in Adams’ face, as well as down his throat as he reads him the riot act….no pun intended.
Adams shoves aside the official, grabs Creed’s legs by the knees and drags him towards the enemy corner. He then drops back and delivers a catapult, throwing Nathan into the turnbuckle where Brandy is waiting to deliver a forearm to his inbound face. But Creed ducks his head and lunges shoulder first through the ropes right into Danielle’s ribs, launching her off the apron and to the mats.
Creed then stands up and catches Rain across the chest with a knife edge chop, sending him sailing from the corner as well. He then turns towards Priest to rinse and repeat but gets a big lariat to the throat, the big man putting him down.
Susie: Pop goes the weasel.
Creed has been popped…bad…right across the larynx, putting him on his back and clutching at his throat. Adams then steps in and leaps up high, delivering a double stomp to the ribs of his rival…the very man he turned his back on at the pay-per-view. He then steps up the turnbuckle to the middle rope and dives off into a Vader Bomb, splashing Creed’s chest.
To his feet Jackson leaps and he then employs them to carry him into his corner, slapping the chest of Priest. The big man enters the ring and instantly gets his hands all over Creed, grabbing the skull of the British import. He rolls him to his knees, applies a front chancery and then dead lifts his much lighter opponent into a vertical suplex position. Priest holds Nathan upside down for what seems like an eternity, letting all the blood rush straight to his skull.
Finally he falls back and puts Creed down to the canvas. Into his clutches Creed’s skull is taken, Priest pulling him up into a dragon sleeper. He rises all the way to his feet and drags Nathan up into a backwards bridge, putting tremendous pressure on the head so as to deprive all blood flow.
Creed swings his arms in an attempt to release himself from the clutches of the giant, but Priest isn’t about to let go under any circumstances. But Nathan is more than just any circumstance, spinning around out of the sleeper and catching the creases of Priest’s knees in the process. He pulls up on them and tries to trip up his opponent in order to apply his London Bridge sharpshooter variant. But a big forearm delivered to the lower back puts an end to this.
Susie: Priest too bulky….just one of his legs probably weighs more than Creed’s whole body.
Another forearm drops Nathan to his knees before Priest reaches down and takes him around the neck with both of his excessively large hands. He then heaves Creed up from his knees and throws him into the air, catching him right on top of his shoulder. Priest then charges Nathan across the ring, about to drive him spine first into the turnbuckle but Creed puts palms to the massive shoulder of his opponent, pushing himself up and over it.
He lands behind Priest and then staggers across the ring, looking to make the tag to either of his willing partners. But the back of his tights become snagged in the fingers of Priest, who pulls him in reverse into a lariat across the back of his neck.
Once more Nathan finds his face on the canvas, and his body writhing in pain, unable to make the tag and unable to prevent Priest from making his OWN tag….hitting the hand of Adams and bringing him back into this confrontation.
Creed steps up behind Nathan and grabs him by the hair, raising him up onto his knees while shouting into his ear.
Jackson: The End Effect WILL be respected…You will believe in our cause…
From his kneeling base Nathan is flung down face first into the canvas, nose bouncing off the ring. He pops up to his elbows and knees while Adams steps over the back of his neck, hooking his arms and trapping them at his sides.
Jackson: RESPECT!
He hoists Creed up into the package piledriver but Nathan uses the momentum of the lift to push himself up and onto Jackson’s shoulders. A right hand connects between Jackson’s eyes, followed by another and then a third. Finally Creed summons the strength to leap frog from Jackson’s shoulders, over his opponent’s head and then land on his feet behind his back. Jackson quickly scrambles forward and tags back in Priest, who steps over the ropes and up behind Creed who is in the process of going for a tag. Again, his tights are caught from behind and Priest yanks him into a lariat across the back of his head. BUT Creed bends down in the nick of time, sliding under the arm and catching Priest around the waist before falling back into a gigantic German suplex.
The fans are floored at the sight of the enormous Priest being German suplexed by Creed right onto the back of his head and shoulders
Susie: Just how strong is Nathan? He can probably pull a semi-truck with his nipples.
The German sends Priest flipping over to his side and an exhausted Creed crawling towards his partners.
Susie: Go Creed go.
It takes all of Creed’s strength to extend his palm and place it in the open hand of Brooklyn….Gary argues with his cousin NOT to enter the ring, but she does so in spite of his misgivings. Immediately she leaps the top rope, twists and lands on the middle cable before springing off into a twisting cross body to a recovered Priest, only to be caught across his massive chest.
He then launches her into the air in a fall away slam only to be caught around the neck and countered into a DDT that plants the top of his head directly into the canvas. A fortuitous roll carries Priest into his corner, where his shoulder is slapped by Adams.
The manipulative Jackson slides into the ring and rushes right at Brooklyn, only to be caught with a drop toe hold. Smith then rolls towards her cousin, tagging Gary into this match. Matt enters the match and does so quickly, rushing towards Adams and delivering a big diving knee into his face. The Busaiku Knee connects with every bit of Jackson’s face.
And now its Rain who looks to connect, charging into the ring just in time to be caught by Matt with a tilt a whirl into the backbreaker. Rain bounces off the very knee that now goes airborne, nailing an inbound Brandy in the jaw. Danielle stumbles back just as the knee nails her in the ribs, doubling her over and putting her skull into Gary’s clutches. He turns her around in a full circle then launches her shoulder first into the inbound ribs of Priest, knocking him backwards and through the ropes.
The two collapse through the cables and ultimately hit the mats amidst a a primal roar from the fans.
Susie: Look at Gary go….he’s a one man….ummm…uhhh…..crap…what’s a good analogy here? A one man….cleaning machine….Wrecking house? Damn this isn’t easy without my plushie or my Magic 8 Ball.
Dollar watches this all with a polite clapping of his hands, pretending to embody that team spirit. But the clapping ends when Adams grabs Gary’s arms from behind and spins him around, eventually dumping him face first into the canvas via the un-prettier.
Confidence swarms through Jackson upon reaching his feet and swinging his arms out to his sides. He spins around arrogantly into a knife edge chop that ALMOST levels him. He then gets ANOTHER chop…and then a third…and then a fourth from Creed, who is just lighting up his opponent with these strikes.
Adams staggers back with each blow and unleashes a yelp while the crowd unleashes a woo. He moves in for yet another chop but this time his wrist is caught from behind and Rain spins Creed around only to receive a discus style lariat to the throat that takes the masked competitor down. Adams then rushes in behind Nathan and drops shoulder first into the crease of his knee, clipping the leg.
His ‘dominance’ causes Jackson to exude even greater confidence…as if he needed anymore help in that department. He rises to his feet and shouts towards Brandy, who comes rushing in and leaping into the air, twisting her body around so that her legs wrap around Jackson’s waist. He catches her around the hips then pulls her up into a wheel barrow before throwing her down into a big splash across the chest of Gary Matt.
Jackson then shouts for Brandy to roll back into his clutches, which she does, legs wrapping around his hips. Adams pulls her up into yet another wheelbarrow and is on the verge of dumping her onto the chest of Creed, when in races Brooklyn. She leaps over Nathan and connects with a dropkick to Brandy’s chest, knocking her back and causing her head to connect with Jackson’s lips. Brandy falls down out of the wheelbarrow and unto her feet, albeit stooped over while Jackson staggers around behind her.
Smith then rushes in, catches the neck of Danielle, leaps up high into the air, kicks off of Adams jaw before delivering a tornado DDT. The top of Brandy’s head collides with the canvas and she flips over to her back while Brooklyn surprisingly kips up to her feet, blood still dribbling down her cheek. And that crimson flows a bit more steadily when the moment she lands on her feet a boot connects with her brow, one swung by Priest.
Susie: There goes Brooklyn’s perfectly spaced nostrils.
Indeed, Brooklyn’s nose may have been turned into mush by the massive boot of Priest, sending her twisting into a backwards flip. Priest then turns towards a recovering Creed and Matt, the two using one another as crutches to reach an upright base. Priest steps towards them and receives a simultaneous knife edge chop across the chest, staggering him back. He then gets another double chop that further buckles his knees. At last Creed and Gary exchange a glance, take both of Priest’s wrists into their hands and send him charging into the cables. They turn, actually interlock hands and rush in to take Priest down via the double lariat, but the heavily tattooed athlete plows right through the interlocked hands, breaking them apart.
He charges into the ropes behind Gary and Creed, who turn just as Priest rushes in and levels them both with a stereo lariat./
Susie: Is there anyone who can stop Priest? Without the use of a tank? The guy is cleaning demolition…..Wait…that doesn’t make sense either.
Rain then rushes in towards Priest, bending his head and driving it into the ribs of his own partner so that he can flip up and onto the shoulders of his stablemate. Priest then turns and pushes up on the back of Rain’s legs, sending him flipping over backwards into a moonsault onto the sternum of Creed.
From a kneeling base Rain motions to the exterior of the ring….directing traffic. Priest obeys the rules of the road, dropping to his feet and after rolling under the ropes he reaches under the ring, securing a table.
Susie: Jumping jee….a table! Wonder if their setting up for another tea party….which I wasn’t invited too.
The wood is arranged at ringside and Priest swipes any debris from its surface before turning back towards the action. But it isn’t the ring he gets a view of, it’s the diving knee that nails him between the eyes…a diving knee delivered by Johnny Dollar.
Susie: And look at my broadcast colleague go!
The fans express elation as Priest falls back over the surface of the table thanks to the diving knee from Johnny D. Who like a true mega-face swoops in to seize advantage and more importantly, the spotlight. He them climbs up onto the apron, grabs the top rope and leaps over into a corkscrew cross body that connects with the inbound chest of Rain. Both men hit the canvas and Dollar rolls across it straight to his feet, looking quite amazing as he displays some uncanny skills. He then drops under an attempted lariat from Rain, rolling across the canvas to his feet and then leaping over the crawling body of Gary.
He takes off into the ropes, ricochets off and then comes back in at the crawling Matt, stepping off his back then launches himself into a twisting back elbow to the chest of Danielle, putting her on her posterior.
Susie: My stars…Dollar is a human cleaning derby….No…that still doesn’t sound right.
The fresh as posies Dollar lunges to his feet just in time to catch Jackson coming in around the back of his head, dropping to his seat and delivering a jaw breaker.
Adams bounces back, holding his mouth and his rattled teeth as he falls into the ropes. They only support him long enough for Johnny to swoop in and deliver a spinning heel kick to his throat…Therefore the cables served to Jackson’s detriment rather than his aid. He flips up and over them to the apron while Johnny turns focus back to the middle of the ring where a recovering Rain and Brandy are aiding one another to their feet.
Johnny rushes into them, delivering boots and fists to both bodies before taking them around their necks, setting up for a double DDT. But this is NOT about to happen, because the creases of his knees are caught and his legs ripped out from under him.
He falls unto his back just as Rain and Danielle hoist his legs into the air, and keep on hoisting them even though Johnny D is on his back. They lift up on the legs enough to send Dollar rolling over to his back before pushing him by his chest into the ropes. As Dollar bounces off he comes back in at the now bent forward Rain and Brandy, who set up for the stereo back drop….but the best laid plans of mice and men….well…you know how this goes…and Dollar demonstrates that the saying is true.
He stops just short of both men, delivering a boot to the chest of Rain, then falling into the splits and connecting with an uppercut to Brandy’s jaw. Rain and Danielle stagger back from these blows…right into moves that are far more heinous. Gary catches Rain around the arms, hoists him up and drives him down with the full nelson….while Creed catches Brandy around the neck, delivering the Eye of the Hurricane. The Brain Damage and the Underdog connect simultaneously on both members of the End Effect.
Susie: PANCAKES!
The finishers have not only taken out both members of the End Effect, but leaves Adams all on his lonesome…without help from his newfound family. He’s exposed to Dollar, who looks to take out a man who has quickly become one of the most repulsive heels in the company…so taking him out would definitely win him quite a few points in the eyes of the Original Prankster.
Dollar slides through the ropes in front of a kneeling Adams on the apron then points to the table at ringside.
Susie: No tea then?
Into a front chancery Jackson’s head is dragged, Dollar about to either DDT or suplex him off the apron and through the wood. He lifts Adams only to have Jackson’s ankle caught in the clutches of Fury, the End Effect manager dragging him back down to his feet. Then Dollar is forced to break the front chancery and stomp down at Fury, who clears out of the way just in time to avoid receiving any damage.
Johnny then shifts focus back to Adams, who catches him right between the legs with a boot to the crotch. Dollar doubles over, grabbing at his genitals and putting him in a very unenviable position. His head is dragged under Jackson’s seat and both arms are wedged to his sides as the fans begin to scream at the top of their lungs.
Susie: Uh oh…don’t do this….don’t do this, please Jacky…DON’T!
Susie isn’t the only one pleading….so is the referee, who shouts at Adams NOT to employ the move he has in mind. Instead of listening Jackson is lifting…heaving Dollar up into the package piledriver before dropping off the apron. Johnny’s skull goes right through the table to heart wrenching roars and squeals from a stunned and flabbergasted crowd. Their faces go white as sheets at the sight of Johnny taking the package piledriver through the table.
Susie: NO! No-no-NYET! Holy Hulk Hogan in a tutu! That didn’t just happen…not to Johnny…not to my hero!
The plunge through the wood cripples Dollar and results in an immediate call for a disqualification. This disgusting act from Adams leaves the official with no other recourse but to signal for the bell which disqualifies the End Effect.
Susie: Someone get help out here…quick…quick….Do I have to do everything around here.
A headset slides off of Susie’s ears as she goes rushing around the ring and up the ramp, presumably to grab some EMTs in much the same fashion she did a few weeks ago for the torn apart plushie.
Jackson remains seated on the mats, a far off and distant gleam in his eyes as a mutilated and vegetative Dollar lies beneath him and amongst the broken shards of table. Already a rousing ‘holy shit’ chant has started from the crowd who has finally gotten over their initial shock.
Gary, Nathan and Brooklyn all three look on in disbelief as well….only to have their dropped jaws closed when their pounced upon from behind. A forearm connects to Gary’s back while Rain spins Brooklyn around into the Drowning Current. Smith’s already lacerated forehead is driven into the canvas as she flops to her back, collapsing due to total and complete exhaustion.
Meanwhile Nathan is trying to fight back but the numbers game is just too much, especially when a big boot drills him to the cheek delivered by Priest. .
Laymon: Yes, Mrs. Kozlov…he’s ready.
Jacob’s ear is occupied by his cell-phone and his eyes are full of Mr. Gaunt stooped over a sigil drawn on the ground in front of the entry way. He is just finishing up painting the emblem that will ‘presumably’ summon the demon from the depths….Legion.
Laymon: I’ll make sure he’s compliant….
Mr. Gaunt doesn’t even bat an eye when it is implied that he’ll be a corporate stooge and that Jacob actually has the power to control him. In fact, he seems to endorse this notion, looking up from the sigil and mouthing something towards Laymon….It’s almost as if his muted dialogue finds its way spoken aloud through Jacob’s lips.
Laymon: I’m in total control of the Black Crusade….I’d even risk my job on it…
Leeland winks towards Laymon and gives him the biggest and cheesiest thumbs up that one could ever imagine. Surprisingly the over the top reaction brings a grin to Jacob’s face, his confidence swelling to the point where his head is about to pop like a pustule. The phone is hung up and slid back into the jacket pocket of the former General Manager, who now snaps his fingers.
Laymon: Get on with it, Gaunt. Summon Legion and then tell him to go that ring and crush Creed, Smith and Matt.
Mr. Gaunt: I do aim to please.
MISTER Gaunt lifts a palm into the air and then slams it down into the center of the sigil, causing the lights to begin flickering…and several bulbs to explode into hailstorm of sparks. Laymon backs away from the sigil and checks his wrist watch, seeing that the hour and minute hands have stopped ticking. Though he would normally react with fear, he instead smiles…realizing that this time the conjuring will not end in HIS destruction…but the destruction of the trio that have been targeted.
As Creed, Brooklyn and Gary continue to suffer the onslaught against the End Effect the lights within the arena take on an eerie red glow and quite a bit of pixilation distorts the screen. An alarmed crowd watches the stage intently as through the steel grating two arms materialize…But they aren’t nearly as thick as Legion’s….and they seem to be occupied by something shaped like a banjo…..The creature that emerges through the stage wears Legion’s mask and sigil upon his face, but given his diminutive, gangly body structure, he is clearly NOT the virtuoso of fear.
Actually, his pale skin and boney physique are more akin the anatomy of the Banjo Playing Ron….an infamous member of the collective known as the Loons.
His size is NOT very imposing and fails to elicit much in the way of fear from the End Effect. ‘Legion’ stops at the end of the ramp and strums the opening cords to ‘paint is black.’ That’s when the distraction proves devastating for Rain and company. Brooklyn somehow reaches her feet and delivers a spinning heel kick to the back of Rain’s head, knocking him forward and through the ropes. At the same time Gary catches the back of Brooklyn’s head, spinning him around and throwing her face first into a roaring elbow from Creed, putting her down to the canvas.
Priest then steps in and grabs both of Gary’s and Creed’s throats, about to drop them with a stereo choke slam….but ‘Legon’ slides the banjo into the ring right to the toes of Brooklyn. She picks it up just as Priest’s arms are simultaneously swatted down and away from the throats of both his opponents. Creed and Gary shoot him off into the ropes, Priest bouncing off and coming back in just as Matt and Nathan work cohesively to deliver a stereo lariat. But their interlocks hands are plowed through, breaking them apart as Priest storms past them right into a shattered banjo across the top of his head.
Priest is staggered, turning around in time for Creed and Gary to interlock hands, rush forward and deliver a stereo lariat that knocks the behemoth up and over the ropes.
Surprisingly he lands on his feet and staggers around, swiping at the fragments of wood that have embedded themselves in his forehead. Before he can dash back into the ring he’s swarmed upon by Rain, Brandy, Fury and Adams, taking all four members of the End Effect to hold Priest back.
They step up the ramp where ‘Legion’ is no longer standing, now occupying the space in front of the vacant announce table. Though he embodies Legion’s typical stance and wears his ring gear..albeit of a much smaller size….it would be impossible for this man to be the true master of nightmares….
Neither Creed, Gary or Brooklyn celebrate the removal of End Effect in order to swarm upon Dollar, checking on the man who’s neck looks like it may have been broken by the package piledriver through the table…A package paltrier unleashed by the man baring a twisted smile and watching from the ramp, all the while mumbling something over and over again.
Jackson: Respect…respect….respect…
Laymon’s face is stuck between the curtains, but keeps them drawn in around his head so as not to be detected. Once he turns towards Mr. Gaunt, one can see the horror inhabiting his eyes. Sweat beads down his cheeks as he gazes upon the still kneeling Mr. Gaunt, who looks as stoic as normal.
Laymon: What…what the hell was that?
Though he didn’t witness first hand the actions of his conjured ‘demon,’ Mr. Gaunt is apparently aware of what transpired in the ring.
Mr. Gaunt: I’m afraid Legion can be quite temperamental at times. He is not as easy to control as one would assume.
Laymon: That-that-that WASN’T Legion!
Mr. Gaunt: Sure it was.
Laymon: That guy was at least a hundred pounds lighter.
Mr. Gaunt: Unfortunately Legion suffers from diabetes, meaning he is quite prone to radical fluctuations in his weight.
Laymon: You bastard! You’ve-you’ve-sunk me!
Laymon wipes the sweat from his brow when he realizes that he’s yet again been played.
Laymon: I staked my reputation on this.
Mr. Gaunt: Don’t worry, Mr. Laymon, you didn’t have much in the way of a reputation to begin with. I just hope that the Blacklist is nearly as merciful as the Black Crusade.
It’s no longer sweat streaming down his face but tears as Laymon throws an absolutely hissy fit.
Laymon: You’re gonna pay for this…you’re gonna pay!
Mr. Gaunt: A phrase I’m not TOO unfamiliar with.
There’s no hiding the horror felt by Laymon at that particular moment. If he had hair it would be torn from his skull in bundles.
Greyson: Why do we spend so much time in the parking lot?
Sparkles: Cause it’s the perfect place to meet chicks.
Once more the parking lot has become the stage for Sparkles and Greyson to unleash their two man…okay…ONE man act….
Sparkles: You do still like ladies right?
Greyson: Pfft…of course…
Sparkles: Really….cause you spend so much time with your hand up my backside, I was beginning to think you….
Greyson: Don’t even go there.
Sparkles retracts his head and laughs hysterically at the expense of a none too amused Greyson…growing weary of playing the consummate professional forced to reel in his careless cohort..
Sparkles: Not only do you have your hand up my bum, but it sounds like you got your lips wedged right to the Blacklist’s anus…not that wouldn’t mind wedging my mouth to Mika Kozlov’s….
Greyson: WHAT did I just tell you? Stop being so abrasive.
Sparkles: That’s how the good lord made me….full of life and lots of cotton….Anyway…if you weren’t so friggin determined to make a good impression on our new bosses, I wouldn’t have volunteered our services to interview Orlando Cruze when he shows up tonight.
Greyson: Why would you….You know what? I’m beginning to wonder if you’re even capable of conducting an interview at this point.
Sparkles looks on with hurt feelings…even through his static expression he demands sympathy.
Sparkles: You question my credibility?
Greyson: Credibility? You manage to piss off every single person we TRY to interview…and God help us if you see a pair of tits.
Sparkles: Hey…I’m a man….or at least that’s what I think I’m supposed to be…kind of hard to tell without the whole anatomical correctness thing….Anyway, I have my weaknesses just like everyone else…including the inability to blink or move my limbs without assistance…but I’m still a TERRFIC backstage correspondent.
Greyson lets his eye roll do all the talking for him.
Sparkles: Why you little bitch…I’ll prove it to you. Next person who shows up, I’ll conduct the most poignant interview ever with, and show that I can be a picture of professionalism.
Hope….for the first time in ages it can be seen in Lovejoy’s eyes.
Sparkles: Speaking of which.
Headlights flash off the faces of Sparkles and Lovejoy, cluing them into the arrival of the limo.
Sparkles: That HAS to be Orlando Cruze….
Sparkles blows imaginary breath into the palm of his hand and then said palm is used to smooth back his hair.
Sparkles: Hope your not wearing socks, cause their about to be BLOWN off.
The vehicle stops beside the dynamic duo, who watch eagerly as the back door flies open and feet emerge.
Loathed…despised….hated….and these are the nice feelings that IWC fans have in regards to the man who exits….that man being the ever-so infamous, Mr. D. Though he’s become a familiar sight on recent IWC telecasts, the image of the owner of the SCW, is still a sight to be beheld. He slams the car door behind him and instantly finds himself no longer the subject of the crowd’s fury…but questions from the impetuous duo of Sparkles and Greyson Lovejoy…puppet…and ventriloquist interacting with the ultimate puppeteer.
Sparkles: Holy Jesus, it’s horse-face himself.
Greyson: Would you stop being so crass, Sparkles? We’re in the company of wrestling royalty here.
Sparkles: Royalty? That would explain the teeth.
Lovejoy’s face falls into his palm…his FREE palm….realizing that Sparkles…like a cheetah…is unable to change his spots….but not for a lack of trying.
Sparkles: Hey, Mr. Ed….why are you here?
Mr. D doesn’t have time to indulge in such foolishness, but cannot help but to troll the crowd.
Mr. D: What a powerful question from a puny specimen.
Sparkles looks up at Greyson and nods…cause he can’t blink…which has already been covered.
Mr. D: Before the internet explodes with idle conjecture, let me answer your question….I’m here, you furry little pain, to announce tonight the Board’s decision regarding Orlando Cruze, and rather he’ll be returned to his former standing as acting President of the company.
Sparkles: And that decision is?
Mr. D: Ohhh…you are a spunky one…but my announcement DESERVES the spotlight, and should be made in front of a target audience…that target audience being Orlando Cruze. Now step aside you….wait….what are you supposed to be anyway?
He overlooks the furry amalgamation of various creatures…
Sparkles: We were just trying to figure that out actually. I‘m guessing I‘m some type of possum…or maybe even an Aye-Aye. So hard to tell what I‘m suppose to be considering the amount of drugs Greyson was on when he stitched me together.
Greyson: I was going on a week without sleep and drinking lots of cough syrup.
Mr. D: Good luck with that then.
Enough time has been squandered…Mr. D walks on with a mission…one that will not be derailed by the hijinks of this particular duo.
Sparkles: See…
Greyson would scoff but doesn’t want to argue with Sparkles….realizing that questioning his ability to interview would ultimately get him nowhere….and expeditiously. Besides, Lovejoy is far too preoccupied with predicting the Board’s decision…one that has major ramifications.
MOMENTS AGO
A freeze frame image of Johnny Dollar about to hit a suplex on Jackson Adams that would put him off the apron and through a table, captures the screen.
This glorious moment is predictably ruined by the interference of Fury. And now becomes an inglorious moment that many fans would care not to relive. Johnny’s destruction is a truly grim and ghastly sight as he’s heaved up from the apron and dropped through a table via the package piledriver at the hands of a merciless Adams.
The image of Dollar being dumped on his head is captured from multiple angles to truly reinforce the severity of Johnny’s destruction.
DURING THE BREAK
A cervical collar holds Johnny’s neck in place as a weeping Susie stands over him, crying to the EMTS to take it easy on him. They act like they’re handling a box marked fragile, delicate as delicate can be as they scoot the backboard under Johnny then use it to move him from the fragments of wood to the stretcher that whisks him away. Porno Lad is at last visible, having stood back and watched this whole scene unfold with genuine compassion in his eyes.
The smarm factor is turned up to a level that would shatter smarm detectors the world over…if smarm detectors existed….
Unlike the sullen crowd, Adam Chase shows no sympathy for Johnny Dollar. In fact, he’s actually smiling in response to the fate of Johnny Dollar…which was anything but PG. He’s so amused by what happened moments ago that he actually rewinds the footage playing on the monitor until it reaches the point where Jackson drops Dollar on his head through the table.
Gavin: How many times do you plan on re-watching that?
Taylor steps into the scene wrapping his wrists in tape as he prepares for his bout with Hurse. The sight of Adam and Gavin together confirms just how deceitful their actions were at the pay-per-view, where they played Tabitha Silverstone into stealing the World Championship from her clutches.
Chase: I could watch this all day long…Or at least until my finger goes numb from hitting the rewind button.
Gavin: Yeah, gotta admit, it was some beautiful imagery. But nowhere near as beautiful as what we did to that self righteous hoe, Silverstone.
Chase: I must admit, that was particularly brilliant. Not only did you manage to get back the World Championship for my niece, but you got yourself some exposure as well.
Gavin: What else would you expect from your All-Star?
Adams is just about to gloat even further when Gavin suddenly changes his tune…becoming less braggadocios and a bit more serious.
Gavin: But in all honesty, Adam, I have to admit, some of the things I said at the pay-per-view come from the heart.
Not only has his laughter stopped, but now Chase’s grin threatens to vanish.
Gavin: I love my family, and I don’t mind defending their honor…but I’m not going to wait around forever for my opportunity. I want to be a World Champion too, Adam.
Chase: And your time is coming, Gavin…rest assured of that.
Gavin: And you keep telling me that…but…I don’t know….just seems like I’m clicking my heels right now.
Chase: There’s light at the end of the tunnel…As my client, you WILL be a champion….ALL my clients will be champions…Including the TCWC…because tonight looks like the perfect opportunity for us to enact our rematch clause.
That smile and that laugh return as Adam slaps Gavin on his shoulder and starts to walk away.
Chase: If you’ll excuse me, I have championships to reclaim.
Gavin watches his agent leave while asking himself a very selfish question, what does HE have to gain from any of this?
Desmond Drake: I said STRIP!
The monitor airing footage from Upping the Ante forces Ashley Marie Chase to relive the reprehensible acts of the oh so misguided Desmond Drake. Surprisingly the woman’s locker-room is sparsely occupied, meaning that Ashley can get just as emotional as she wants regarding the imagery on the screen…But she doesn’t…She doesn’t react at all…She just watches and contemplates.
Excuse me….Ashley?
Chase is startled….finding herself so absorbed into the scenes on the screen that she didn’t even notice Amanda Blayze creeping up on her.
Ashley: Oh ummmm….hello?
Amanda: Sorry to interrupt…
Eyes scan the monitor and the loss of pigment in Chase’s face.
Amanda:…but I see your reliving that incident at the pay-per-view, between yourself and that troll, Desmond Drake.
Ashley: What’s it to you?
Amanda: Well you weren’t the only one objectified by that pervert….I was almost forced into kissing the lips of Billy Mayne…who’s breath smelt like he just got done eating an entire loaf of garlic bread….
Ashley: Youch.–
Amanda: Tell me about it….Instead of going out there and given the opportunity to do what I do best…wrestle…I was treated like nothing but eye candy. And it seems…
Gesturing between monitor and Ashley’s face.
Amanda:…you weren’t treated any better.
Ashley: Very true.
Amanda: So I say tonight, we make up for it. We go out there, face each other in the ring, and instead of showing skin…we show skill….We show the world that we’re not objects…that we’re not T&A…we’re wrestlers….two of the absolute best on the planet.
Ashley doesn’t even have to think about it.
Ashley: I like the way you think…and by the way, so digging the tan…it‘s awesome
Amanda: Oh…erm…I’m Hawaiian.
Ashley: Ah….yeah….totally…totally…
She fumbles her way through words as she fumbles her hair behind her ear.
Amanda: Alright then, let’s go out there and put on a clinic.
Ashley: Sweeet.
The MMA specialist walks away from the fashion template and in the process almost bumps right into two HIGHLY interested onlookers. Kathryn Pearson and Yvonne Knight…UNITY…stand just inside of the doorway…mentor leaning with a shoulder pressed to a locker…and pupil resting with back wedged to a locker.
Knight: Excuse us, Amanda…
Amanda: Yeah?
Knight: We kind of just overheard what you were telling Ashley there, and well, Kathryn and I couldn’t agree with you anymore.
Blayze has every tight to be skeptical, being a new face on the scene and currently unenlightened when it comes to whom can and cannot be trusted.
Amanda: Oh?
Knight: It’s good to see that we’re not the only ones taking a stand for what’s right. And we have to appreciate the way you’re going about proving your point.
Kathryn: It’s rare to see someone actually act with some honor and decorum around here.
Knight: Yeah…with so many people puking up maggots and being thrown in the back of ambulances…it’s just such a rarity….
Amanda: I get it…not very many people act with honor around here.
Kathryn: So yeah…Unity…we’re gonna be keeping our eyes on you.
Amanda: Oh wow…gee…so honored.
After exchanging a smile with Unity, onward marches Blayze, vacating the locker-room and leaving them to their business. And their business has everything to do with Ashley Marie Chase, who went back to watching the footage of her FORCED striptease.
Knight: Hey Ash…have you seen your Sister around anywhere?
Once again Chase finds herself startled.
Ashley: Noooo….
Kathryn: We had a few things we wanted to talk to her about.
Ashley: Oh….well…I’m not my Sister’s parole officer….I don’t keep tabs on her every movement.
Kathryn: If she calls you, will you let her know that Unity is looking for her.
She debates rather she can be bothered to do something so simple….
Ashley: I guess I can do that.
Knight: Thank you.
Knight: And like Amanda, we’ll have our eye on you tonight.
Ashley offers a nod in the politest fashion she’s capable of before turning focus back to the television screen.
The Evolution Championship….at long last has found its home….just not one that is very inviting…..the shoulder of Mika Kozlov. In front of a standard interview area stands the Blacklist representative, ready to drop another bombshell.
Mika: Damy i gaspota…at Upping the Ante it was announced by that cuddly little half pint that my Cowboy, my Lukie, and I, would be representing the IWC as a collective Evolution Champion.
Fingers run over the contours of the Evolution Championship belt.
Mika: And we would like to raise the prestige of this particular championship belt by defending it this evening, and showing why all THREE of us were handed nothing, but deserved to be REWARDED the title. And the only way to do that, is not just for ONE of us to put the strap on the line….but all THREE of us to defend the title tonight….In THREE separate championship bouts.
The crowd quite likes the idea of the Blacklist risking the loss of the Evolution Title so shortly after being HANDED the gold by the easily manipulated Drake.
Mika: So I suppose the next step is finding THREE talents who deserve to face the Blacklist for the Evolution Title this evening….Three individuals the caliber of the Blacklist…Three individuals who are not idiots, are not masking their talents behind silly gimmicks, and can STAND the test of the Blacklist. I’m sure our LEGIONS of fans will support us in our HUNT to find MORE competition this evening.
A wink is directed to the camera, which presumably stops rolling, or at least that’s the impression Kozlov is given. Hence why she turns away in order to address the man watching in the wings, assuming the director’s studio chair. That man is Aaron Harrison, who looks quite prideful when witnessing Mika’s performance.
Mika: Did I do good, my Cowboy?
Harrison: Exceptional.
From the chair he rises, approaching his beloved and slipping his hand onto the gold plate of the Evolution Title, patting it with his palm.
Harrison: I believe the groundwork has been laid and we’ve ensured a very interesting night for the roster…in particular, Legion.
EARLIER TONIGHT
P Clarence Whitman III: Hmmmm, is the water drawn from a warm tap at least?
Lois Prince: It shouldn’t be too bad, Clarence.
The love-struck Lois watches with goo-goo eyes as Whitman approaches the tub of water in the makeshift chapel. Already gathered around this tub are a handful of eager individuals wearing white robes that match Whitman’s own.
Lois: I’m so glad you’re finally going through with this.
Whitman: Well…erm…ummm..whatever brings us closer together, my Dear.
Lois: You have no idea how happy that makes me.
Whitman: I suppose a baptismal is the next logical step in my spiritual rebirth, and in our budding relationship.
Every syllable brings Lois closer and closer to being swept off her feet.
Lois: So your ready to take the plunge then?
Whitman feigns confusion, knowing the connotations of that particular phrase.
Lois: Into the tub I mean.
Whitman: Oh yes…absolutely…of course.
Sweat is swiped from his brow with the sleeve of his three piece suit, which he is wearing BENEATH his white silk robe.
Lois: Let’s do it then.
Arm in arm Lois leads the X-Class Champion towards the tub where Kitty Buehler is already holding someone beneath the water. Air bubbles float to the surface as the leader of the KKK (Kitty Khristian Kollective) baptizes a member of her expanding flock. A drenched Just Jack stands in the background, shivering after receiving his own baptismal.
Kitty: Ah, at last, Mr. Whitman. Come to wash yourself of sin?
Whitman looks towards Lois for guidance, who is eagerly nodding. The nods are mirrored by Whitman, but aren’t nearly as eager.
Kitty: Then please step forward and accept Jesus into your heart.
Another stream of sweat is brushed aside as Whitman makes a step towards the bath-tub. Before he can embrace Jesus, and wash away sin…yadda…yadda…yadda….the figure currently receiving his spiritual cleansing is finally allowed to breath air rather than inhale water into his lungs. Kitty releases the newest member of her flock, who shoots forward out of the water, gasping for air. At first Whitman finds himself amused by the man who resembles a water logged rat….until the droplets clear from his face to reveal the smile of Simon Cagero.
Whitman: Wha….?
Simon: Hey-hey, Percy….
Water is shot from the nostrils of Cagero as he pinches his nose.
Simon: I didn’t know you were a member of the KKK….small world
Whitman is left speechless….in a state of perpetual puzzlement at the sight of Simon receiving his baptismal. But Cagero is never at a loss for words…especially when surrounded by ladies in wet see through robes. They seem to inspire his confidence….which he TRIES to exude in front of the impressionable Lois Prince.
Simon: Hey, I don’t have to pee anymore.
Percy looks down at the water with even greater trepidation.
A motionless Johnny Dollar is being loaded into the back of a vehicle which has been an all too common sight as late…an ambulance. He doesn’t bat an eye or twitch a brow in response to the Original Prankster standing above him, patting him reassuringly on his shoulder. He doesn’t reciprocate the squeezes of his hand by Susie Moore. He doesn’t do anything save for lay there like the proverbial bump on the log.
Porno Lad: Don’t worry Johnny, you will be avenged…You will be avenged….
Porno Lad glances around to make sure no one is close enough to hear as he bends down to whisper into Dollar’s ear.
Porno Lad: Did you leave the keys in the bat mobile?
He’s distressed by the lack of a response from Dollar, not out of concern for the condition of his Tag Team Partner, but because he very well may not be able to joyride in the very same vehicle steered by Adam West. He is only drawn away when a palm slaps his shoulder, provoking Porno Lad to spin around and give a coy glance in the direction of TPKid….But there seems to be something off about him….something he can’t put his finger on….no….it’s something that would normally be tussled. The hair on top of TPKid’s head is no longer knotted and unkempt, but is instead styled into a perm that closely resembles the Prankster.
Porno Lad: Ummm…there’s something different about you.
TPKid: Check out the fro, Bro….Now we REALLY look like a team. Matching hair-cuts, matching t-shirts….
The fabric of Porno Lad’s most recent merch mover is pulled down to reveal the motto written across TPKid’s chest.
TPKid: Now all we need are matching belts….
Porno Lad: Although I must admit your hair is mind blowing…and the odors coming off of it have got me feeling higher than my ecstasy bender back in college…this is not the time nor the place to discuss the particulars of the Tag Team Titles.
TPKid: Are you kidding me? This is the PERFECT time to discuss it….
A gesture is made towards the man strewn across the stretcher.
TPKid: It looks like Johnny’s not going to be able to compete for the foreseeable future….So you kind of have no options at this point…You HAVE to give me that other belt.
Porno Lad: Hmmm…
TPKid: What more is there to think about? Look at this hair…look at it…It took thirty minutes to get it this stiff. And the fumes whiffing off of it are probably putting a giant hole in the ozone layer as we speak.
Porno Lad: I don’t want to make brash and impulsive decisions, Kid. Just give me a minute to soak this all….
Mika: Izvinite!
Attention finally turns from the hair that if smelt for prolonged periods of time might result in vivid hallucinations. But Mika Kozlov, she is NO hallucination.
Porno Lad: If it isn’t the very baddie who brought the Mega-Faces together. What is it you want witchy-woman? Come back here so I can make some quasi, yet PG related puns referring to the rancid space between your legs.
Mika: No…afraid you’ll have to wait on that…I’m here to inform the two of you that in the interest of fairness and equality, that since the Blacklist will be defending our Evolution Championship this evening in a tune up match for the main event, where the ‘Mega-Faces’ will do battle with me and my boys….that the two of you will defend your belts in a tune up match as well…
Porno Lad: A title defense….Now?
Mika: Well, after the commercial break. And your challengers are already on their way to the ring, so I would suggest the two of you get out there this instant.
Porno Lad: Wait…wait…wait…we haven’t even had the opportunity for me to make jokes about your boob job, or your tummy tucks….or crude insinuations about what you do while kneeling…without actually specifying as such so as not to offend censors and our sponsors.
Mika: Oh, Porny, that’s the last thing you want….As you wouldn’t wish the wrath of the Blacklist being brought down upon you.
TPKid: Go ahead and make threats, Mika. We might be going at it two on three against the Blacklist tonight…we might be fighting you after just defending our championships….but as this company’s TOP faces….we WILL rise above everything you throw at us…perform some Superman comebacks and totally topple your evil regime.
Mika bats her eyes and seems swept away by the sentiment.
Mika: Awwww…all those chemicals in your shiny hair really have fucked up your brain….
The eyes stop batting, and there are no more warmed hearts.
Mika: Now GO!
A gesture towards the ring FORCES Porno Lad and TPKid to carry forth towards the squared circle.
Porno Lad: Let’s go Kid, nothing makes us look more impressive than wrestling more than once in a single night.
TPKid: As long as it doesn’t mess my hair.
Porno Lad: Now your sounding like a TRUE mega-face.
Off the two waltz, leaving Mika alone…or so she thought…until her eyes turned to bring her face to face with Susie Moore. Gone is Susie’s normal bubbly disposition. Evaporated is Susie’s normal wide eyed innocence. Destroyed is Susie’s once obnoxiously upbeat attitude.
Susie: Excuse me, Mika….
Mika: Why Mrs. Moore….good timing. I was actually going to talk to you.
Susie: Really? I assume you’re going to do something about this?
She gestures to the ambulance being loaded with the unconscious body of Johnny Dollar.
Susie: You’re gonna punish the End Effect right?
Mika thinks about it…but not for very long.
Mika: Sorry sweety, but Johnny knew what he was getting himself into when he made that challenge earlier tonight. And the Blacklist has no pity for people who bite off more than they can chew. Besides, we’d be hypocrites if we punished the End Effect for sending someone to the hospital like the Blacklist have so many times in the past.
Susie: This is ridiculous….This is nothing but the same old stuff…I thought you three were going to bury the old ways….
Mika: Susie….Dear….don’t concern yourself with Johnny Dollar. You have far more pressing matters at hand.
It doesn’t take much to make Susie confused..so these vague insinuations have her even more vexed than normal.
Mika: Because it just so happens that I’ll be giving you the opportunity of a lifetime in just a few moments from now. You’ve been hand-picked to challenge me for the Evolution Championship this evening.
Susie’s confusion is replaced by terror.
Susie: Wha…huh….Wait….I’m not even a….
Mika: I know…you’re a bit overwhelmed with gratitude…but think nothing of it. It’s a reward for your constant ability to bring a smile to my face…And that’s just what I want tonight…I want you to make me laugh.
Off Mika walks, leaving a stunned and startled Moore behind….unable to come to grips with the idea that she’ll be facing Kozlov this evening for the Evolution Championship…one of the most destructive forces in all of wrestling.
Through the corridor marches the TCWC, Hugo Magnusson and Bash Kincaid being led by their agent Adam Chase…who is smiling wider than ever…..the smarm factor truly off the charts.
Chase: This is it my boys…tonight we bring those belts back home!
Hugo and Bash look less than convinced.
Chase: By any means necessary….ANY means necessary.
Someone who looks even less thrilled than the TCWC, is Gavin Taylor, who walks far behind the trio and shakes his head with a disgruntled expression.
Billy Mayne: You will not regret this, Blacklist.
A quick exit is made from the offices of Blacklist by Billy Mayne….who is already held together by pins, needles, and splints…so the last thing he needs to risk are further injuries. So after doing some quick smoozing, he does an even quicker back peddle from the office.
Billy: You can count on me to handle Legion…unlike Laymon, I’m not intimidated by freaks.
The door shuts but a world of possibilities has been opened up to Billy….the chance to endear himself to the Blacklist and be a true corporate climber. But all that momentum comes crashing to a halt when he turns and finds himself mono a mono with Ba’al.
Mayne: EEEEEEE!!!
Mayne collapses right onto his posterior the moment he comes within inches of the Prince of Sin.
Ba’al: Why hello to you as well, Mr. Mayne.
Billy is too busy breathing into a brown paper bag in order to offer anything remotely resembling a greeting.
Ba’al: Are the Blacklist in?
Billy is too busy puffing on his inhaler to give an answer.
Ba’al: As I understand it, they’ve summoned me to a meeting this evening, yes?
Billy is too busy feeling at his throat to find a place to insert a makeshift trachea that will help him catch his breath.
Ba’al: I’ll just go in then.
The very door that was just closed prepares to open as he grabs the knob, twists it and starts to step through. The only thing that gives Ba’al pause is the abnormal specimen who approaches. Out of pure intrigue the German monster turns to address the man who has thrown an invisible lasso around him. Said invisible lasso is now employed by the mime…yes…a mime…to pull himself closer and closer to Ba’al. He pauses only briefly to take a deep, yet inaudible breath, and swipe some make believe sweat from his forehead.
The mime then stops in front of Ba’al and employs near robotic movements to remove a daisy from his pocket and extend it like a gift to Ba’al. The moment the Prince of Sin reaches out for the flower, the stem instantly goes limp, cause the mime to employ the poutiest of pouting faces.
Ba’al…believing in balance reciprocity….reaches into his own pocket and gives the mime a present as well…insisting he reach out and take it. The mime looks elated, interlocking fingers and putting his knuckles to his cheek as he sways from side to side. He then excitedly extends his palm when Ba’al puts a tarantula in it.
Mime: EEEEE!!!
The code of silence is broken as the Mime throws the spider into the air and then collapses to the ground right beside a still hyperventilating Mayne. The two paw at one another, hugging each other in a fearful embrace as they watch Ba’al twist step into the Blacklist’s office.
Focus shifts from the panic-stricken, Billy and Mime, to the individual standing down the hall, watching from behind a large crate. A notepad is in hand Al Todd-Meriweather’s hand, and notes are being jotted down upon it.
Al: METAMFIEZOMAPHOBIA IS A NO.
One potential fear has been marked off the list
Drake: Sex sells….
Ashley Marie Chase continues to watch the footage with a judgmental shake of her head and furrow of her brow…possibly weaving together a sexual harassment lawsuit….A lawsuit that sways further in her favor when she becomes the subject of unwanted physical contact thanks to the massive bicep that wraps around the back of her neck. Brittany Lohan yanks Ashley into her bosom…but not in a threatening capacity. No…Lohan had actually seems to be hugging Ashley, gently stroking the freaked out Chase’s bangs, like a big sister combing her little sister’s hair.
Lohan: You poor sweet little thing? Suffering some PTSD?
The ‘hug’ combined with the cynical nature of Lohan’s ‘sympathetic’ comments renders Ashley speechless.
Lohan: But you don’t have to worry anymore, you sweet little thing….because the Blue Eyed Demon is here….and she’ll make sure nothing happens to you, ever again.
Cassidy: Yeah, because you’re Taylor Chase’s sister.
Cassidy Haze SKIPS into the locker-room and right to Ashley’s side, throwing an arm over her shoulders, as well as the shoulders of her mentor.
Cassidy: And since Brittany and I are so close to Tay-Tay, almost like her sisters, then that means we’re all pretty much one great big happy family. And family, sticks together.
Lohan: That’s right, honey bunch, and Dark Legacy doesn’t let ANYTHING happen to our family.
Ashley continues to remain silent, wisely biting her tongue as she balances precariously on the tight rope. The slightest misspoken syllable could send her taking a nasty tumble.
Lohan: Speaking of family, have you seen Taylor around here anywhere? I have much to discuss with the World Heavyweight Champion.
Ashley finally does speak up, getting a little more comfortable around the woman who has been assigned the task of watching her sister’s back.
Ashley: Sorry Brit, I haven’t seen her.
Lohan: Hmmm….she hasn’t answered any of my texts tonight, or responded to my tweets. I’m starting to get worried about her.
Ashley: Jeez….
Ashley can’t take it anymore, no longer concerned with what type of wrath she’ll receive for speaking up and freeing herself from Dark Legacy’s clutches
Ashley: What is it around here? Everything seems to be Tay-Tay, Tay-Tay, Tay-Tay…..Everyone’s asking about her.
Haze and Lohan exchange a tense glance.
Lohan: Oh…someone else was asking about her?
Ashley: Yeah, those Unity chickadees.
Lohan: PEARSON?
There is a notable base in her tone as the name is spat from her lips like poison/
Ashley: I guess.
Cassidy: What do those tarts want with OUR Tay-Tay?
Lohan: I don’t know….but I’m not about to wait around and find out.
A gentle nudge is given to Cassidy’s arm as Brittany directs her out of the woman’s locker-room. They are so preoccupied with Unity and their ‘business’ with Tay-Tay, that they don’t even notice the individual standing in the corner of the room, just off to the side of the door with a bundle of roses obscuring their face. Csssidy does however, reach out and grab one of the roses, putting it between her teeth as she and her mentor make their exit, now leaving Ashley alone with…Lukas Montgomery. He lowers the roses from his face and then stiffens his back as he approaches the young and impressionable Chase.
Lukas: Excuse me….but I couldn’t help overhearing…
Ashley is far too preoccupied at this point texting Taylor, not even acknowledging the individual now consorting with her.
Lukas: Did you mention something about Pearson? I happen to be looking for if you can give me a clue as to her whereabouts.
Ashley: JESUS CHRIST, I am NOT a GPS!
She only stops reacting with such hysterics once turning to see the face of the Blacklist member. Instantly she sinks her teeth into her lower lip.
Lukas: I’m sorry?
Surprisingly Montgomery remains calm and exudes cool.
Ashley: Oh….ummm….I have no idea where Kathryn is.
Lukas: Ah, how unfortunate. Here….
A rose is removed from the bundle and extended to Ashley.
Lukas: Take a rose anyway for your trouble.
Ashley looks cautiously at the rose before tentatively taking it from the Blacklist member. After a disturbing wink is directed towards her, and Lukas makes his retreat, Ashley goes back to watching the television replaying images of her forced strip tease.
The lyrics provided by Crash Karma mark the arrival of the tag team specialists, Hugo Magnusson and Bash Kincaid. They look uncharacteristically stoic, and almost naked without the Tag Title belts that have been a staple of their tandem since almost the day they signed with the company. But with Adam Chase and Gavin Taylor following behind, turning the tide of the next match in their favor, it shouldn’t be long before the belts are returned to his clients’ waists.
Mark Comeau: Well….thank God I didn’t cut back on my trucker pep pills and I brought along my thermos of straight black coffee….because I’ve been summoned from the backstage area to once again occupy the commentator’s chair. This is Mark Comeau to call all the action…but I’m not going it alone tonight…I’m joined by….whomever this guy is.
Cameras briefly cut away from the ring now occupied by The Chase Wrestling Collective, to the commentator table where Mark Comeau is seated next to a relatively unknown, and oddly adorned individual.
Kozlov: Listen here, Govnosos, I am Nicholai Kozlov, member of the greatest wrestling family in the history of this fine sport of ours.
Comeau: Kozlov?>
Kozlov: Yes. I take it your familiar with my cousin, Mika…who felt there needed to be a NEW and FRESH perspective given here at commentary.
Comeau: Well…nice to have you along for the ride.
Kozlov: Hmmmm.
Comeau: Alrighty then. We’ve got ourselves an impromptu tag team match here it seems….As the Chase Wrestling Collective has cashed in their rematch clause for the Tag Championships, and the Blacklist is sending the Champs out here for a ‘TUNE UP’ for that three on two handicap main event this evening.
Kozlov: Very smart of my cousin, making sure that the Tag Champions are properly limbered up and prepared for the challenge of the Blacklist this evening. Good to see that Mika, Aaron and Lukas care about the condition of their roster, unlike the previous administration.
Comeau: If I weren’t so sure you’d probably slice my hand off and stick it in one of my bodily orifices, I’d make the crude jerking off motion right now.
Kozlov: How very wise of you not to.
As if this match wasn’t hard enough to accept, now Adam Chase has a mic in hand, about to deliver another pre-match diatribe.
Chase: Ladies and gentlemen, tonight we correct an injustice committed at the pay-per-view, where an unfair three on two advantage caused my clients to be ROBBED of their championships. But all will be rectified this evening…
The crowd doesn’t like this match, or the fact that Chase feels the need to drum and hype up the injustice.
Chase: Even though I don’t see eye to eye with the Blacklist on every occasion, I can’t argue with their logic tonight. Now that the ‘third man’ has been removed from the occasion, Porno Lad and TPKid, will have no other alternative but to face my clients in a fair, two on two situation. That’s why after Dollar’s injury, I pounced on the opportunity to cash in the rematch clause, and the Blacklist deemed fit to acquiesce. So no more three on two advantage, at least not in the favor of Lad and Kid…..
Adam smirks at the thought of the three on two handicap match booked this evening.
Chase:…The Tag Team Titles are coming HOME!
The Backstreet Boys ALMOST cut off Chase with some of the most cringe worthty lyrics ever heard. But what makes Chase truly cringe, is the sight of Porno Lad AND TPKid stepping through the curtains now sporting matching fros and matching shirts. And the cringe gets even more intense when he sees the Tag Team Title belts resting over both of Porno Lad’s shoulders. To make the sight even more unbearable for the TCWC, Porno Lad lifts his titles high and twirls. But the former Champs aren’t the only ones watching, because so is TPKid, eyes locked on the belt that he sacrificed his hair in order to get hold of this evening. The two finally march up the steps and enter the ring where Porno Lad continues to twirl with both belts elevated over head. He then drops the gold and removes his t-shirt, on the verge of throwing it into the crowd but stopping and instead throwing it over his corner.
Porno Lad: Sorry guys….it’s still a prototype.
The fans are miffed they won’t get a collectible, but settle for witnessing another high octane tag match pitting Porno Lad against the TCWC, an action packed combination that they never grow weary of watching. Bash and Hugo are in their corner listening to the advice of Chase, and Gavin Taylor, who are watching from the apron.
Comeau: The Tag Champs weren’t ready to defend their belts tonight, but they seem pretty pumped at the moment.
Kozlov: They’ll be pumping something else before the night is out and they’ve crossed paths with the Blacklist.
Comeau: Cryptic.
Kozlov: And true.
Referee Fitzpatrick turns to call for the bell but TPKid and Hugo are already in the process of circling one another.
Please pardon the interruption.
A thousand hearts simultaneously sink at the sight of Tabitha Silverstone occupying the stage, microphone in hand and twisted expression on her face.
Comeau: What the deuce?
Kozlov: Seems we have an interloper in our mitts.
Chase looks equally as puzzled as the commentary staff… but Gavin instantly knows what this is all about.
Tabitha: I wanted to come out here and apologize….but NOT for my theft of the World Heavyweight Championship….What I did four weeks ago, was just….It was the only way to get my demands noticed…..and for the IWC to take ME seriously. And all of that was going according to my meticulous plans, before YOU Adam Chase, and YOU Gavin Taylor….stuck your nose in my business.
Adam and Gavin exchange a glance and a smirk…fondly recalling how they bamboozled Silverstone into unintentionally forking the World Heavyweight Title belt back over to Taylor Chase.
Tabitha: My issues were with Taylor Chase and Brittany Lohan…they crippled my most prized client….the ONLY client I felt was deserving of representing my agency here in the IWC…And when his career was ended at Awakening, it tarnished the image of my agency, and the good name of Tabitha Silverstone. So that’s why I’m targeting Tay-Tay, and why I’m targeting Lohan….but now it becomes evident to me that I have to EXPAND my hit-list. The only way I’m getting retribution for Sebastian Knight, is by taking out the ENTIRE Chase family and EVERYONE in their sphere of influence.
Chase pretends to be shaking like a leaf.
Tabitha: So again…I apologize….to you, Porno Lad, and to you, Trailer Park Kid….
The Tag Champions are now the ones who exchange glances.
Tabitha: Because in the course of my revenge, there will be collateral damage.
The microphone drops to the stage with a static thud…but that’s not the only thing about to be dropped. Just like at the pay-per-view, multiple masked assailants leap over the barricades and into the ring. They swarm in from all sides, as Adam is dragged out of the ring and protected by Gavin, Taylor actually wrapping his arms around his agent and forming a protective cocoon. But nothing could be done to save the TCWC….who surprisingly…with the aid of TPKid and Porno Lad, are holding their own.
Every masked individual who tries to get the drop on these four are knocked to the canvas with right hands and boots. Hugo delivers a few European Uppercuts, dropping a particularly husky attacker with it. He then drops down and pulls this bulky man up into a camel clutch just in time for Bash to swing around into the Bridge Collapse.
<At that exact same moment TPKid has performed his springboard Canadian Destroyer, dumping one of Silverstone’s clients on their head and flipping them up onto their feet. That’s when Porno Lad swings around and almost beheads him with the Epic Fail.
Kozlov: Is this some type of delicious S&M party?
Comeau: Once again Silverstone sending these clients, all wishing to make a name for themselves under Tabitha’s management, to the ring to punish the Chase’s, and it looks like Porno Lad and TPKid were caught in the middle.
Kozlov: Yes, but these gimps are not fairing too well.
Comeau: No they aren’t.
Bash whips one of the masked men into the ropes then catches him with a military press on his way back in, throwing him up into the air before stepping aside so that Hugo can drill the collapsing athlete with a European Uppercut to the jaw. Chase finally breaks away from his All-Star in order to reach under the ring, grab a chair and slide in under the ropes. The weapon that the TCWC has become so familiar with, is snatched up into the clutches of Hugo, who turns and is about to bring down another assailant. Unfortunately, the chair is the only thing brought down…right out of Hugo’s clutches. Magnusson spins around wide eyed and ferocious as he stares at the chair and the man holding it, Porno Lad.
Porno Lad: A face in peril never resorts to the use of foreign objects…We merely take a beating to build sympathy.
Magnusson draws back his fist to knock out the constant thorn in his side, when his arm is caught from behind. Hugo is spun around and caught with a steel crowbar to the ribs, swung by one of Silverstone’s clients. He doubles over, grabbing at his possibly fractured ribs before taking another hit right to the back of his skull.
A boot is then delivered to Porno Lad’s ribs, causing him to drop the chair, which finds its way into the clutches of another client. He then spin around and slams the steel into the forearms of Porno Lad, who got them up just in time to protect his head.
The Mega-Face melts to the ring and rolls across it just as TPKid rushes in…a second too late…to aid his partner. But he receives a thunderous chair shot across the top of the skull as well, this one without any protection rom Kid’s forearms. TPKid collapses to the canvas where he lies and convulses. There is no time for recovery because the very man who slammed the chair into his skull now lifts the steel above his head and brings it down over his bicep to devastating results.
Kozlov: Marvelous.
Comeau: Damn was that ever painful!
That’s obvious via the flopping and writhing that TPKid is doing….which carries him into the ropes and under them. He falls to his back where he cradles his arm to his stomach, thrashing around and grabbing at what appears to be a fractured elbow. BMW now comes racing down the ramp with baseball bat in hand, dropping to her boyfriend’s side and helping him up to his feet. She doesn’t even concern herself with the plight of Porno Lad, just aiding her man up the ramp and towards the back where he can receive medical aid.
Kozlov: The causalities continue to pile up.
Comeau: That tall piece of chocolate getting her vanilla midget out of here before any further damage could be done to his arm.
Inside of the ring Bash is trying to fend off the masses swarming his tag team partner, but eventually succumbs to the sting. Just like Hugo, a crowbar is swung into the back of his skull, knocking him to his knees and subjecting himself to further brutality by way of the countless hordes overtaking the ring. Bash and Hugo simultaneously have their arms pinned behind their backs as they are raised to their knees, in defenseless positions.
Adam tries to scramble into the ring but is grabbed by Gavin, being pulled away just before he can fall victim to a beating as well. Surprisingly, Adam and Gavin are ignored in favor of the targets presently in the ring, the TCWC. A bullseye is drawn on the temple of Bash, as that’s where one of Silverstone’s clients seems to be concentrating his attack.
He steps back and unzips the leg of his track suit, revealing the steel knee brace on beneath it. Instantly the crowd knows what’s coming, as does Bash, who takes a leaping knee right to the temple from the steel brace.
Comeau: Bash being treated to the same fate that Sebastian Knight suffered at Awakening.
Kozlov: I’m sure you’re aware of a certain saying regarding women……hell…and wrath?
Comeau: I’ve been married a couple of times, so I know that saying quite well
All Adam can do is watch with a feeling of powerlessness as his client is destroyed by Silverstone’s army. Now he knows exactly how Tabitha felt at the pay-per-view, and the feeling of dread only gets worse when Hugo suffers a knee strike to the temple as well. The steel brace is driven directly into his temple, instantly concussing Magnusson.
Comeau: And Hugo gets it just as bad as Bash.
Carcasses are KICKED out of the ring while another is being introduced. Two of Silverstone’s clients have pulled Porno Lad to his feet and are rolling him into the squared circle where a frightened referee Fitpzatrick is currently cowering and whimpering in the corner.
Kozlov: Another victim? Splendid.
Comeau: What did Porno Lad ever do to Silverstone?
The vast majority of Tabitha’s clients have vacated the ring, save for two….the man holding the crowbar and the one wearing the steel knee brace.
Tabitha: Did I forget to mention something?
Tabitha darts back to the stage, picks up the microphone and adds another comment.
Tabitha: I promised my clients certain perks for jobs well done…And since they accomplished the destruction of two caught in the spehere of the Chase family drama, I think their entitled to the shot that Hugo and Bash were promised this evening. What do you say, Porno Lad? Willing to defend your Tag Team Titles against these two men?
The crowbar is tossed aside by one of the individuals addressed, while the other is currently zipping up the leg of his track suit. All the while Porno Lad kneels before them and contemplates his decision.
Tabitha: Nothing would make you look more like the grandiose face you claim to be then by defending your belts without a partner. And besides, didn’t you tell Chase just a few weeks ago that given your super-face stature that you could best ANY combination of two men entirely on your own?
Yep….that’s what Porno lad said….though he might be regretting have said it now…or is he?
Porno Lad: You’re on!
Before Tabitha can even smile…which she hasn’t been able to do since witnessing the destruction of Knight…Porno Lad stands up, catching the ribs of one of the masked men, who has the number 17 drawn on his back and as thus henceforth shall now be called Seventeen, into a fireman’s carry. Porno Lad then snaps him over into the death valley driver….albeit a version so weak it would even make John Cena jealous.
Then the other masked man, with the number Twelve drawn on his back….and as thus henceforth shall now be dubbed Twelve, rushes in and gets caught by the ankle with a drop toe hold. Porno Lad steps over his back and applies a rather tame version of the STF.
Kozlov: This poor man, he still believes such a thing as heroes exist in our present reality.
Comeau: Well this is a rather heroic effort by Porno Lad…defending the Tag Team Titles by himself. Guess he’s got to back up the statements he made a few weeks ago.
Everyone is consumed with what’s transpiring within the ring, save for Adam Chase, who is too busy kneeling down between his laid out clients, raising Bash’s head into his arms. Gavin watches his oddly emotional agent, finding himself getting even more and more emotional himself.
Twelve has crawled across the ring and has grabbed the bottom rope before he could be forced into submission. Instantly Porno Lad breaks the hold, being a constant stickler for the rules, even when facing those who have incurred his wrath. He rolls to his feet just in time to duck an inbound fist from Seventeen, catching his spine against his shoulder then heaving him up into the air and ultimately dumping him with a modified back first slam. He then pops up to his feet and throws a hand into the air, getting a mixed reaction.
Comeau: Oh no…please no….not the five knuckle shuffle….
Kozlov: It would be quite easy to break all five of those knuckles if I were permitted.
Porno Lad begins to race across the ring to bounce from the ropes and do his little shuffle, but stops when Twelve comes rushing in and gets caught around the waist. Porno Lad then heaves him up into the air, turns and drives him down on top of Seventeen with a belly to belly slam. He then leaps up to his feet and AGAIN throws his hand into the air.
He bends down and waves it in front of his face to a ‘You Can’t See Me’ chant from the crowd. Into the ropes Lad rushes, bouncing off, dancing a horrible…horrible…mind rapingly bad…jig….complete with the Charleston…before finally dropping all five knuckles into both men’s faces.
Comeau: And he finally hit it, to unanimous disgust the world over.
The five knuckle shuffle has both opponents ailing while Porno Lad ascends to his feet and plays to the crowd. He then approaches referee Fitzpatrick and drags his quivering frame out of the corner to put him in position to make the count. But the moment he turns back towards his opponents, he receives a stereo back elbow from both men. They then bend forward at the same time and wave their hands in front of their faces before taking off into opposite ropes. They bounce off and somehow, in tandem, manage to pull off a far better shuffle before dropping their knuckles into Porno Lad’s face.
Tabitha watches this from the stage without emotion…not even a smirk. Once it’s been confirmed that two of her clients have things well in hand, she moves to the back, leaving them to complete their business….their business being the capturing of the Tag Team Titles.
Seventeen steps over Porno Lad right into a front chancery from Twelve, who heaves his partner into the air before dropping him with a reverse suplex splash across the champion’s chest. Seventeen then hooks Lad’s leg and the official scurries into position to make the tag.
1
2
Porno Lad triumphantly gets a shoulder up before his championship could be taken away by these masked enigmas.
A flustered Twelve does not take kindly to Porno Lad’s superman act, shouting at Seventeen to pull him up. The crowd is growing alarmed as Twelve begins to unzip his pants leg once more to expose his knee brace, keeping nothing…not even thin fabric…between it and Porno Lad’s skull.
Kozlov: Prepare to suffer the slings and arrows if you truly wish to sacrifice, Porno Lad.
Comeau: Another devastating knee strike coming…Porno Lad on the verge of going on the shelf.
Outside of the ring Gavin’s eyes finally turn away from his agent to the man about to be crippled in the same fashion as Hugo and Bash.
Twelve dashes forward and throws his knee at the temple but stops in mid swing…just before it could crack Porno Lad’s skull and bring Silverstone’s clients the Tag Team Titles. Why did he stop? Because Taylor has leaped to the apron at his side and is shouting to get his attention. Mission accomplsihed. Twelve dashes at Gavin, but gets caught around the back of the neck, Taylor dropping off the apron and snapping his throat off the top rope.
Comeau: Taylor interfering! Shouldn’t this cause a disqualification?
Kozlov: I don’t believe there’s any semblance of rules and orders to this chaos.
Porno Lad summons his superhuman strength to stand up with his arms still trapped behind his back and then turn around in an act that defies logic, catching the ribs of Seventeen against his shoulders. He stands up and heaves the masked assailant into the air, about to deliver the death valley driver when Seventeen slides off and lands behind him. He then shoves Porno Lad into the turnbuckle, his chest crashing directly into it and his shoulder falling victim to a slap…a slap from Gavin.
Taylor leaps over the ropes and charges at Twelve, nailing him over and over again to the jaw with right hands. Seventeen then rushes in with a double axehandle only to have Gavin sidestep him and throw him through the ropes.
He then turns back towards Seventeen and dropkicks him on the button, right to the nose. He’s on his back but Twelve is back…back to the apron and half way through the ropes before Gavin catches him. He’s taken around the neck, dragged through the ropes and dumped on his face via the Cubic Zirconium Cutter.
Comeau: Gavin a little jazzed up here….angered after watching these two men destroy his associates.
Kozlov: Poor Gavin, he lets friendship corrupt him.
Gavin is on his feet in time to be caught to the ribs via a boot by Seventeen, doubling hi over and subjecting him to several big right hands to the face that finally puts an end to his uprising. The numbers that have given these masked men such an advantage tonight is exploited again, as that same beefy individual who suffered the Bridge Collapse earlier, comes darting back towards the ring with the number 21 branded on his back….and as thus…you get the gist by now.
Twenty-One is climbing up onto the apron to take Gavin out when his ankle is snatched and his legs are pulled out from under him and his head is then caved in with a baseball bat swung by the arm of TPKid.
Kozloz: Oh my…that was particularly delightful.
Comeau: Siverstone’s clients tried to interfere in this ‘match’ but out of nowhere TPKid cuts this man off with the baseball bat right to his skull.
Immediately after crushing Twenty-One’s head with the bat, TPKid doubles over his injured arm, keeping it cradled to his stomach. All the while BMW is barking at him from the edge of the ramp, imploring him to get his ass back to the trainer’s room and receive proper medical treatment.
Neither individual is aware of what’s happening in the ring where Gavin continues to receive right hands to his face before Seventeen takes his wrist and whips him off across the ring. But Taylor doesn’t come back in to a blow…no…he’s intent on countering into the Real Men Use Lariats….However, Seventeen ducks in the nick of time, causing Gavin’s momentum to carry him into a shining wizard on a still kneeling Twelve.
At the same time Seventeen stands back upright just as his jaw is crushed via the Epic Fail from Porno Lad.
Comeau: AHHHHH….I just burnt my tongue on my coffee.
The Epic Fail and the All Star Maker connect almost simultaneously and result in the mother of all pops from the crowd. Gavin isn’t concerned with fanfare though climbing on top of Twelve, stretched over his chest as he throws right hand after right hand into the masked face of the man who took out Hugo and Bash. He only hears the sound of his knuckles crushing bone, and not the sound of Fitzpatrick’s palm hitting the canvas.
1
2
3!
If the pop wasn’t big enough for the simultaneous connection of finishing moves, now it’s ginormous as Gavin has just managed to pin Twelve.
Kozlov: This battle has ended? How unfortunate?
Comeau: It looks like…wait…did Gavin just pin Silverstone’s client…in this Tag Tea Title match? What does that mean? Gavin isn’t even a holder of the championships, he just stepped up to take the place of TPKid when he got injured.
Kozlov: Another cluster leaving things unresolved? As I understand it, that is quite commonplace in the IWC.
The bell chimes in the background as Porno Lad turns around and finds his eyes as wide as saucers when gimpsing Gavin pinning Twelve. A traumatized Fitzpatrick, who was caught in the middle of all this madness and now just wants to get the hell out of here, is handed the Tag Team Title belts by the time keeper. Promptly he hands one to Porno Lad, then places one on the shoulder of a kneeling Gavin, not hanging around to hear Taylor’s protests before Fitzpatrick dashes out of the ring and up the ramp.
Kozlov: What shenanigans are we seeing here?
Comeau: It looks like, since Gavin took TPKid’s place in this match, that the referee has handed the tag belt to Taylor….So is he now ‘officially’ recognized as a co-holder of the Tag Team Championships.
Gavin rises to his feet examining the Tag Team Title belt hanging from his forearm and then raises his eyes to stare at the other strap over the shoulder of a shocked Porno Lad. Clearly neither man knows what to think of this situation…which has the crowd just as perplexed. TPKid doesn’t add any clarity…only muddying things further by rolling into the ring and getting between Lad and Taylor, eyes also affixed upon both belts.
TPKid: What gives?
Neither Porno Lad NOR Gavin Taylor have an answer. They just continue to mirror one another’s expressions of confusion as they stand over the bodies of Twelve, Seventeen and Twenty One…stand over Silverstone’s clients with belts in hands.
Kathyrn: Awww….that’s so cute….I love rabbits.
A cellphone featuring some pictures is held up for Pearson….providing her a perfect view of the images that Malachi Hunt has captured.
Malachi: And this is what it looks like after it’s been skinned.
Pearson really wishes she didn’t have that perfect view when witnessing the next picture.
Malachi: Just look at all that good meat on its bones. I happen to like prey with some meat on the bone.
This statement is made with a lustful tone and even more lustful eyes examining Kathryn.
Kathryn: Uh-huh, I’m sure you do. But ummm…if you’ll excuse me, Malachi, I’ve got to get back to Ivy, we’re waiting for….
Malachi: Yep, bagged me a 250 pound buck the other day. Got some pictures of him too…
Kathryn: Well good for you….
The camera draws back from the bragging Malachi and the disinterested Pearson, stopping once it rounds a corner and finds Lukas Montgomery leaning against the wall. He peeks around the corner, eavesdrppping on the conversation between Pearson and Hunt, but not hearing a word that is said. The thorny roses in his hands are squeezed until the stems break and blood begins to filter through his fingers.
Montgomery: Looks like I’ve found my challenger tonight..
The roses are tossed to the floor and Lukas storms away in a huff. The camera watches him leave before turning back to the roses strewn across the floor, which are slightly redder in hue now that they’ve been bled all over.
A very concerned Greyson delivers his line as wryly as possible.
Greyson: Hello everyone…it’s SPARKLES and Greyson Lovejoy, standing by with….
Sparkles: Oh…don’t take this introduction away from me.
Greyson’s chin sinks to his chest, realizing this was going to happen when he found out who they were tasked with interviewing tonight. He knew exactly what Sparkles’ response would be, and he’s responding rather PREDICTABLY. A purple robe, with suede elbow patches, a pipe, taped to his palm and placed to his lips, and a suave base to his tone, are all indications that Sparkles is getting that oh so special feeling…for some sexual healing.
Sparkles: We’re standing by here with….Alana ‘Please Bend Over to Tie Your Shoes’ Starr.
The Starr Chylde herself appears on camera for the third straight week, but hopefully with much better results than her LAST appearance. Though it’s chancing fate by standing in the very same interview area where she was almost speared in two by Brittany Lohan, she shows no trepidation standing there once again. It almost seems like she’s inviting another assault from the Blue Eyed Demon. But the only assault she’s risking at the moment, is a sexual one, from Sparkles.
Sparkles: This job just keeps getting better and better.
Greyson: If only you actually DID your job.
Sparkles: Hey, I deserve points for managing NOT to offend Mr. Ed earlier tonight, so give me some slack here.
Of course Greyson isn’t going to argue, what’s the point, so he allows his puppet unrestrained freedom when questioning Starr.
Sparkles: Hey sexy, how’s the ribs feeling?
Alana winces as she places a hand over the bandages beneath her blouse.
Alana: Their healing….Brittany should know by now that I’m a very quick healer.
Sparkles: Cool…cool…personally…I’ve never had any complaints about my speed.
Alana: Well your about to get one right now….How about we SPEED this along? I have much better things to do with my time than stand here listening to the disgusting come-ons from a muppet.
Sparkles: Listen, sweet-sweet-child-of-mine, I’m working my way up to the interview….You can consider this foreplay.
Alana: No, YOU listen. I’ve been forced to wait around long enough. I’m through with patience, the time is coming and coming very soon for Brittany and I to finish this…finish what Lohan started in GDW.
Her mental agony upon recalling what Lohan put her through in GDW is almost as painful as the physical ailments hidden beneath her blouse.
Alana: That attack on New Age, it wasn’t the first time that the Starr Chylde crossed paths with that Blue Eyed Demon, and it won’t be the last….But I’m sure Lohan believed after our initial encounter that she’d never see me again. That was her first big mistake…her second lapse in judgment, thinking she could cripple me. Sure she took me out for a long time…sure it looked like she had cut my career tragically short…sure I was forced into rehabilitation and to sit idly on the sideline for months watching and waiting to make my return. But Lohan, even after that debilitating attack in GDW, even after your assault at New Age, here I stand….
She gestures to herself much to the delight, allowing the viewers, Lohan in particular to take it all in, to absorb her words and her intimidating presence.
Alana: I don’t care how many spears she gives me, how many times she drives me into the ground, into the wall, into the steps, stairs, tables…I DON’T CARE…..I WILL have retribution. I will keep getting up and keep getting up until Lohan is mine. She will learn that nothing she throws at me, or throws me through, is gonna save her…because there’s nothing on this planet that can keep us apart…..I will rise up and answer that challenge she made to me at Last Stand..and nothing or nobody will…
Tabitha: Alana…..
This time it’s not a spear that interrupts her tirade, but the audiacious comments of Tabitha Silverstone.
Tabitha: Please pardon the interruption, but I’m afraid you MUST be corrected…
Alana: Corrected? By you?
Starr almost wants to laugh at the notion, but is not in any type of a laughing mood.
Tabitha: There ARE forces that will keep you from getting your hands on Brittany Lohan…..
Alana: Oh?
Tabitha: Challenge or no challenge at Last Stand, that match is not going to happen. As long as the Chase family are around, influencing the powers that be, you will NEVER get your hands on Lohan. They wield all the power in the wrestling world, and Brittany is so closely entrenched in their ranks that they would not allow harm to come her way. So you need someone capable of fighting battles not only in that ring, but behind the scenes to make your match with Lohan happen. You need someone who can pull all the right strings…
Alana: And let me guess? That’s you?
Tabitha: Why not? Like me or hate me, Alana, it doesn’t matter. We have a common goal here….revenge. And the only way we’re going to get it on Lohan, and the entire Chase family, is if we work together. Sign with Silverstone International, and I promise you, we’ll have our retribution on Lohan. I’ll guarantee you have that match against her at Last Stand.
Much like Alana, Tabitha is through waiting around, she seems to be demanding an answer…and an answer at that very moment. But Lana isn’t about to leave anything up to chance….not about to risk an impulsive decision derailing her quest for payback.
Alana: I’ll take your offer into consideration, Mrs. Silverstone. Hugs and kisses.
She air kisses Silverstone’s cheeks before walking away. Silverstone watches her potential client walk away before hearing heavy breathing. She looks down at the floor under her skirt, where Sparkles is lying on his back, looking up with his trademark googly eyes.
Sparkles: Granny panties? Seriously?
That ominous grave maker, and the open pit beneath it…all arranged to the side of the stage has the camera’s full attention.
Comeau: That grave set up here for God only knows what reason.
Kozlov: It’s a symbol of the death of the old IWC…of the old ways.
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BOOM!
“I Stand Alone” by Godsmack begins to play and then the lights come back on and we see Ashley Chase standing between two golden waterfall pyrotechnics. She has her back to the crowd and has her arms extended to her sides extending her golden cape which has Ashley Marie Chase in black letters across the cape. She finally turns around and wraps the cape around her and makes her way down the aisle and get to the ring.
Ashley slowly walks up the steps and stands on the apron and leans forward and then whips her head and her hair back and does a sexy pose to the roar of the men in the crowd. She then climbs into and then Ashley walks over to every corner and climbs to the second rope and raises her arms in the air as the crowd gives her a mixed reaction. Ashley finally removes her cape and gives it to the ring girl and then walks to the corner and gyrates as she awaits the match to begin.
Kozlov: What a fashionable young damsel…and a member of my cousin’s illustrious family.
Comeau: Well, Ashley had quite the traumatizing experience in her last outing at Upping the Ante…where she LITERALLY was almost outted…right out of her clothes.
Kozlov: You consider THAT traumatizing…No…Comeau…you’ll see traumatizing when I step into the ring.
Comeau: Mmmmkay…Hopefully Ashley will get overcome the sickening actions of Drake and prove, as Amanda Blayze requested earlier this evening, that she’s more than just sex appea….
PEANUTS! GET YOUR PEANUTS!!
The excessively loud vendor is too obnoxious for Mark to ignore. He cranes his neck to look over the barricade where Jacob Laymon is throwing peanuts and accepting compensation.
Comeau: Is that Jacob….?
Kozlov: So this is the woman intent on proving she brings more to this company than eroticism?
Comeau: Yes…and this match gives her just that opportunity.
Kozlov: Pathetic. Why would she worry about what these sycophants want? They’re quite the fickle bunch, for they know what they want.. Maybe Amanda will win them over…but in the end, they’ll turn on her…and they’ll throw her away like garbage.
Comeau: You’re one of those glass half full kind of guys aren’t you?
Kozlov:….
Comeau: Joking.
Kozlov:….
The intro of “Warriors of the World (United)” by Manowar blares into the arena, generating thunderous cheers from the crowd.
Then, as the song begins, Amanda Blayze emerges through the smoke and comes down toward the ring, high fiving fans as the arena continues to erupt with thunderous cheers. When, she reaches the ringside area, she stands there taking in the atmosphere of the arena as the fans continue to show their reactions. Then, she takes off her vest and reveals herself to the crowd, which fires up the crowd even more. She then climbs up the apron and jumps over the ropes to enter the ring.
Seconds later, she runs up two of the opposite ringposts, jumps onto the ropes and extends her arms with a traditional Hawaiian Shaka signal with her extended hands, taking in the atmosphere while the crowd reaction continues and the cameras flashing.
After going through her ritual, Amanda jumps down and does pre-match stretches.
Comeau: Amanda Blayze had a great performance at Upping the Ante, besting one half of the Underdogs…but like Chase, she was swept up into all that sexual harassment that has the IWC culpable for a MAJOR lawsuit.
Kozlov: Who cares about a little grab assing?
Comeau: Amanda apparently, as she will not tolerate anymore of it. She insisted to Chase that the two wrestle tonight in order to erase all the lunacy that happened at the pay-per-view from the minds of these fans.
The bell chimes and HOPEFULLY the violence will take place inside of the ring instead of at ringside. Amanda and Ashley begin to circle one another to begin this bout and finally do lock up in a collar elbow. Suddenly Ashley spins around and under the wrist of Blayze, lifting the arm into the air before reaching back and wrapping taking Blayze around the neck. She pulls down on the head and the arm, flipping Amanda over into her posterior. She then drops down behind Amanda and wedges a knee to her spine while pulling back on the jaw with both hands, applying a rear chin lock variation.
Comeau: Nice little move by Ashley there. She seems to be taking this match quite seriously. Apparently she went through quite a bit already tonight, given her runs in with Unity and Dark Legacy…getting her a little hyped up.
Kozlov: Aggression…I like this…Indulge your anger, Love.
Amanda indulges not anger but skill as she rises to her feet, forcing Ashley to take a knee from her spine. Then Blayze twists her body enough to wrap legs around Chase’s ankle and drop toe hold her down to the canvas. Ashley collapses and Blayze leaps over her back, pulling her up into a camel clutch style submission.
A grimace consumes Chase’s face as the hold is tightly clamped on. The moment she tries to get up Amanda locks in a sleeper while continuing to straddle her opponent’s back. Chase doesn’t stay in this submission for very long, beginning to force her way back to her feet. The moment they re-reach their feet, Blayze uses the sleeper to turn Ashley around by her jaw into a forearm shiver to the face. Chase grabs at her lower lip, making sure it hasn’t been busted before Amanda takes that hand away from her mouth and uses it to whip her across the ring.
But Chase uses the momentum of the whip to CARTWHEEL across the ring back over to her feet. Amanda then comes rushing in when Ashley reaches back, takes her around the neck and snap mares her over to her seat. She then drops down behind Blayze, wedges a knee to her spine and pulls back on the jaw, applying another rear chin lock.
Comeau: Yeah, the incredibly cute and spunky Ashley showing some mad skills….this business is in her blood…it’s deep in her DNA.
Kozlov: Indeed…but skill will only achieve so much. She must give into that primal aggression and abandon any notion of compassion. Only then will she be a World Champion like her Sister.
It’s time for Amanda to turn on the aggression, forcing her way back up then reaching in reverse, taking Ashley around the neck and attempting a snap mare of her own. Somehow Ashley is able to CARTWHEEL back over to her feet for a second time. She lands gracefully and forms a HUGE smile on her face, before turning into a spinning heel kick to the jaw from Blayze.
The kick lands with enough force to send her spiraling through the air and eventually crashing down right onto her beautiful face.
Kozlov: Quite the disfiguring kick there.
Comeau: That’s putting it mildly. She almost just took Chase’s head off.
Kozlov: But she didn’t…did she? She held back….Which will be to her detriment.
The impact of face to canvas causes Ashley to pop up to her knees just as Blayze rushes into the ropes in front of her, ricochets off, then comes back in and delivers a rushing kick right to her chest. Ashley is put onto her back and the hard way…She stares up not into the lights but into the knee that comes crashing down right into her forehead from Blayze.
Ashley doesn’t even have time to grab at her face before it’s being grabbed by her opponent, Amanda turning her to her knees then driving knees into her nose and lips.
Comeau: Starting to see some of that kick boxing style that Blayze brings to the dance…..I bet you attended quite a few school dances, huh, Nicolai.
Kozlov: Why do you feel as if you can address me personally?
Comeau: Just trying to build some camaraderie is all….
Kozlov: You may want to stop…that is if you value possessing a tongue.
Comeau: Will do.
Blayze intensifies her efforts, dragging Ashley along to her feet by her wrist, then swinging under it, applying an arm ringer. She keeps the arm extended and trapped out to Ashley’s side so that she can deliver several swift kicks to the sternum and stomach over and over again. She then pulls Chase forward into a knee to the ribs that knocks all the oxygen right out of her lungs. Ashley is doubled over and left at the mercy of Amanda’s knee, which connects with her face after Blayze got a running start to build some momentum.
The shot knocks Ashley backwards and sends her falling into the turnbuckle, arms dangling over the cables to support her weight. That’s when Amanda rushes in and leaps up high, both knees extended towards her opponent’s chest. She drives them directly into Chase’s sternum, knocking all the air out of her lungs and doubling her over. Somehow she stays upright, which probably isn’t the best place to be, because it allows Blayze to back up and get another running start this time into a lariat.
The move connects right to Ashley’s esophagus, closing her windpipe and finally causing her to teeter on the brink of going down. But Amanda DOESN’T want her opponent go down, not just yet. She straightens Chase out, backs to the middle of the ring and then gets another running start only to go the well once too often…Running right into the raised boot of her opponent. The designer shoe does not connect with Amanda’s jaw…and is instead caught within the clutches of Blayze.
She then pushes down on the boot and then takes Ashley around the neck, snapmaring her over into a…CARTWHEEL…yep, Ashley managed to flip over and land on her feet for a third time…but not nearly with the same grace she exhibited earlier in this match. The moment she lands she almost loses her footing, yet somehow stays upright just long enough for Blayze to step in and deliver ANOTHER decapitating kick.
But this time it’s caught, Ashley grabbing the leg right in front of her face then delivering a dragon screw leg whip. The moment Blayze goes down to the canvas, Ashley lifts the other leg into the air then flips forward into a jackknife cover.
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Amanda is able to squirm across the canvas just enough to reach up and wrap arm around Chase’s neck, rolling to her side and pulling Ashley along with her. To their feet they ascend with Ashley doubled over into the front chancery.
Comeau: The Huntress has her prey.
Kozlov: Now snap the neck.
Comeau: Erm…yeeeeeaaah.
Blayze begins to snap back into the DDT but Ashley catches her around the creases of the knees and flips forward into ANOTHER jackknife cover.
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Once more Amanda is able to get herself into position to take the neck, roll to her side and pull Ashley along to her feet in the front chancery. Almost instantly Ashley spins out of the headlock though, then reaches back, takes Amanda around the neck and drops down into the snap mare.
Just as Ashley’s confidence grows, her swelled head is popped like a pimple at the sight of Amanda CARTWHEELING across the canvas right onto her feet.
Blayze begins to exude her own confidence when Chase swings around into a spinning heel kick…one that Amanda not only saw coming from a mile away but is able to counter with expert timing. She dives right under Ashley’s leg, catches her around the foot that kept her rooted to the canvas, and then heaves it up into the air. Ashley falls face first into the canvas but Blayze is rolling forward across it, ending right at her opponent’s side before taking her around the neck.
Amanda leads her up to her feet, very intent on applying the Huntress’s Trap but Ashley heaves her up into the air and delivers an atomic drop. Blayze leaps back grabbing at her lower extremities while Ashley grabs at her upper extremities, taking Amanda around the head and dropping down into the jaw breaker.
The whiplash effect causes Amanda to go staggering back into the ropes, bouncing off and coming back into a snap mare. Ashley puts Blayze on her seat and then grabs the arms, stretching them out behind her and wedging a knee to her spine.
Kozlov: Hmmm….seems Ashley is giving Mrs. Blayze precisely what she desired…a wrestling match.
Comeau: Oh yeah…these two are really going at it….and we find ourselves back where this match pretty much started for all intensive purposes.
Kozlov: Yes, because neither of these ladies will do all it requires to truly incapacitate their opponent.
Ashley releases the arms to put her hands around Amanda’s jaw, pulling back on the head until it almost turns into a pez dispenser.
Chase refuses ot have her head popped from neck…finding the will to begin standing up…to rise to a standing base with the crowd rallying behind her. But the moment she stands may be a moment she lives to regret, for Ashley twists her around, taking her neck and pulling her into a swinging neck breaker.
It connects with vicious ramifications, putting a lot of wear and tear on Blayze’s neck. Ashley then takes her opponent around the jaw, rolling her to her feet, only to swing her around slowly and methodically into a second swinging neck breaker….it connects.
And since it proved so devastating the last two times, why not make it three? With Amanda’s head in clutches, Ashley pulls her up to her feet, and slowly swings her around into position for another neck breaker. But she made the same mistake Blayze did moments ago, going to the same well too often. Amanda counters by reaching back, hooking Chase’s arms, then dragging her down into the backslide…
Ashley’s legs are thrashing in the air as she desperately tries to kick out of this surprise counter, but can she do it before referee Ingelson’s hand can slap the canvas three times.
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She CAN and she DOES. Ashley kicks out, drops over ot her knees and then reaches forward, taking Amanda’s head into her neck, leading her up to her feet, then spinning around into a THIRD swinging neck breaker.
The moment Amanda’s body collides with the canvas, Chase floats over into the lateral press.
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Comeau: Are three swinging neck breakers enough to do it?
…It isn’t….cause Blayze is able to get a shoulder up at 2.5.
Kozlov: She wasn’t nearly malicious enough with that neck-breaker I’m afraid.
Indeed, Chase just didn’t get enough of it to finish off Blayze…but what she might unleash with enough viciousness is the Name Dropper. She’s through with this….with everything….everything that happened last week and everything that’s went down tonight. She steps over Amanda’s head, pulls her up by her arms and gets ready to unleash the pedigree…But what’s unleashed instead is a well timed back drop by Amanda, sending her opponent flipping over her head…On the way down though, Ashley catches Amanda’s waist, and drags her over into a sunset flip.
The moment her shoulders hit the canvas, Amanda rolls back to prevent being pinned, landing on her knees and scrambling to her feet…not face enough however…Why? Cause Ashley’s already up in front of her and catching Amanda’s head in her clutches, twisting her around into a swinging neck breaker. ….one that Amanda swings right out of,.
Blayze turns to face Ashley’s back then shoves her off and to the middle of the ring. Chase stops dead center, refusing to be launched into the ropes which would put her in a precarious situation where her momentum would carry her into another devastating blow. She plants her feet and turns just as Amanda races in…Ashley perhaps not saving herself from total destruction after all. Blayze leaps forward into a spear…one that leads to a counter where her head is caught, dragged between Ashley’s legs…a spear that leads to both her arms being hooked…a spear that is reversed into the Name Dropper.
Comeau: And she delivers the Pedigree she was looking for just a few moments earlier.
Kozlov: We’re finally starting to see a bit more intensity from these ladies at last.
Every bit of the Pedigree connects and every bit of fight has been taken right out of Blayze’s body…which rolls absent of thought to her back….where her legs are hooked for the pin.
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Yes…she hit the entire pedigree…yes…she drove Amanda’s face full force into the canvas…no…it wasn’t enough to earn her the victory. Amanda defies odds again by getting a shoulder up to a resounding pop.
Kozlov: Hmmm…Blayze does show determination….but not the killer instinct.
Comeau: She’s gonna have to dig down deep to get back into this match after taking that Name Dropper. You have to admit that these two ladies are living up to the demands they made of one another to raise their game this evening.
Kozlov: If a judge and a jury of peers cannot make me admit anything…what makes you think you can?
Comeau: Why do our chairs have to be in such close proximity to one another?
Chase is celebrating before she is informed that she was NOT the victor in this match, instantly causing her heart to sink into her stomach, and her knee to dig into Blayze’s spine. She pulls Amanda up, applies a rear chin lock and really wedges the knee into the kidneys of her opponent.
At last it seems that Amanda has been worn down enough for the submission to prove effective.
Comeau: The moves may have sufficiently zapped Blayze of all her strength…
Kozlov: Yes…but the lack of passion shown during the delivery of all these moves has me zapped of interest.
We see raw intensity exuded in the twisted face of Ashley as she pulls with all her strength on the chin-lock…one that brings Amanda closer and closer to the brink of submission…But she’s hanging in there…she’s fighting through this…she’s enduring…enduring…enduring! How long she can endure is another question all together though, her arms slowly lowering to her sides as strength rapidly fade.
Ashley applies even more pressure on the hold, feeling the passion fading from her opponent. Unfortunately for Chase, Amanda is just TOO passionate about this business…hence why she digs down deeper….to the very depths of her soul in order to begin rising to her feet.
Comeau: Look at this….
Kozlov: I have no such desire….
The passion of Blayze is on full display…evident as she begins to rise to her feet…fighting any urge to submit. Though her legs are buckling she is still fighting…fighting her way up….finally getting a full extension of her leg and back and forcing Blayze to break the submission. Ashley…who is just beside herself…doesn’t miss a beat, instantly breaking the rear chin-lock, and turning Amanda around to face her.
By the hair her head is dragged down towards Ashley’s under carriage so she can deliver yet another pedigree…but this time Amanda reaches out, wedging hands to Chase’s knees and pushing back, refusing to be put into predicament for the Name Dropper.
Comeau: Incredible strength being summoned by Blayze as she TRIES to fight back out of the potential Name Dropper. This is the epitome of passion.
Chase keeps pulling and Blayze keeps pushing….until eventually Amanda is able to force herself back just enough to deliver to push the hands of her opponent away from her shoulders and then swing around into a big roundhouse kick…one that Ashley ducks. Just as Amanda’s momentum carries her back around to face Chase, she’s caught by the head and twisted into a swinging neck….no…..Amanda twists right out of her opponent’s clutches and wedges hands to her spine, shoving her off into the ropes.
Chase bounces off the cables and then goes airborne, leaping instead of running into her opponent’s clutches…but that’s exactly the position she ends up in…Amanda’s arms, who instantly drops back into a bridging fall away slam.
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Ashley gets a shoulder up.
Kozlov: Almost…but as of yet not enough damage inflicted.
Comeau: So true. I don’t even know how Amanda had the strength to hit that move.
Blayze may be in pain, but she isn’t letting it stop her, rising to her feet on legs that no longer want to support her. Nevertheless she steps towards Chase, who is exuding much effort of her own to get back up….
A knife edge chop nails Chase, knocking her back a few steps before she plants her feet and surprises Amanda with a forearm to the jaw. Amanda is knocked back but collects herself to deliver another knife edge chop. Ashley ALMOST goes down, but catches herself and launches into ANOTHER forearm right on the chin.
Amanda shake sit off and delivers a third chop. The crowd is split right down the middle as these two try to get the better of one another with strikes.
Fans: Let’s go Blayze….
Fans: Let’s go Chase…
Another chop nails Ashley across the chest, followed by another and then another, finally knocking her back into the ropes. She is then kneed to the ribs, grabbed by the wrist and whipped across the ring. She’s sent sailing into the ropes, ricocheting off and then diving forward to counter whatever Blayze had in mind…but instead lands right in Amanda’s clutches. She then begins to drop back into the bridging fall away slam when Chase uses the momentum to flip up and over Amanda’s head. A startled Blayze spins around and receives a forearm to the jaw, followed by another, and then another, and another, another, another, another…The forearms have Blayze all staggered, legs having very little stability.
Ashley then whips her off across the ring into the ropes. Blayze bounces off and comes back in at Ashley, who turns around and catches Amanda with a boot to the ribs before grabbing her by the hair, and dragging her forward into the Name Dropper. And Amanda does drop, diving forward through Ashley’s legs before she can lock her in position for the pedigree, and then rushing across the ring into the opposite ropes.
Ashley spins around and then gets ripped in two via a big spear.
Comeau: The spear that Blazye was looking for earlier in this match finally connects as this match draws to a conclusion.
Kozlov: The persistence of both these ladies was beginning to grate my nerves.
Blayze crawls into the cover and hooks both of legs with the fans all standing in mass to watch the finish to what has been a terrific bout.
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The official’s hand comes down into a third slap of the canvas….resulting in a celebration by Amanda….but her celebration is a bit too quick….cause Ashley managed to get a shoulder from the ring a mere second before the three count.
Comeau: S-T-U-N-N-I-N-G!
Kozlov: Aggravating.
Ashley lies on her side, arms cradling the very ribs that may have been shattered into a thousands of boney shards. Amanda exudes an expression of dismay, stepping in and grabbing Ashley’s arms, hooking them both and forcing her up to her feet before dropping back into a bridging butterfly suplex.
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The suplex coupled with that spear have not done enough damage to put Chase away, she gets her shoulder up much to Amanda’s disbelief. Blayze runs her hands through her hair, never having so much trouble putting away an opponent. She watches from the corner of her eye as Ashley crawls into one of the corners, pulling herself painstakingly up to her feet. She turns just as Amanda comes barreling across the ring into the Yakuza kick. But Chase gets her face down out of position, causing Blayze’s foot to miss her face entirely. Chase then dives forward, catches Blayze by the back of the tights and drags her down into the school girl.
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Ashley rolls back right out of the pin and onto her feet. She then rushes forward into a running knee lift only to have Chase side step it, stand up behind Blayze as she passes by and hooking her around the arms. The crowd squeals as Ashley TRIES to pull her pugnacious opponent down into the backslide, but cannot manage to get her over.
P>Blayze manages to free one arm, and then transition into a spin, using the other arm that was still hooked to pull Ashley around to face her. A boot to the ribs follows a front chancery is then locked in. Blayze lifts Chase up into a vertical suplex when Chase fips over the shoulder, landing on her feet behind Amanda and then reaching back with her arms, catching Blayze under the pits and pulling her down into the backslide.
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Amanda kicks out, dropping over to her feet while Ashley gets to a kneeling base in front of her just in time to be clocked to the jaw with a running knee lift from Blayze.
Comeau: She just hit a knee so vicious it might even make Ashley’s sister jealous.
Kozlov: I echo the sentiment of Ashley…why does everything have to be about Taylor….Taylor…Taylor.
Comeau: Right now it isn’t…because these two are putting on a show stealing performance.
Though the knee has rendered Ashley unconscious, Amanda does not go for the pinfall. Instead she staggers into the ropes, leaning against them and catching her breath. A weary, battle tested Amanda turns towards an equally as fatigued Chase, who somehow…someway…in spite of having no energy left…is starting to stand up….beginning to suffer a serious electrolyte imbalance the longer this bout wages on.
And the Yakuza kick that Amanda is currently launching herself into is definitely not going to help her imbalance any. But luckily for Ashley, the kick misses, Chase ducking the inbound boot. She then lunges to her feet behind Amanda, reaches up, takes her around the jaw and going for the neck breaker.
That same neck breaker that Ashley has delivered multiple times throughout the confrontation does not connect again as Blayze twists around, wrapping arms around Chase’s waist. She then snaps back into a German suplex…but does not go for the arbitrary bridge. Instead she rolls to her side, pulling Chase along with her still trapped in the rear waist lock, setting up for another German suplex. But Chase suddenly performs a standing switch, getting behind Blayze then snapping back into her own German suplex.
Much like Blayze she doesn’t go for the bridging pin and instead falls t her side. Amanda is pulled along as well as both ladies reach their feet and Chase is about to snap back into another German. But Blayze performs a standing switch of her own…going for a third German. But the more direr the situation the more desperate Ashley becomes…and in spite of her fatigue, she rushes into the ropes, dragging Amanda along behind her as she tries to hold onto the rear waist lock.
Chase’s chest connects with the ropes, which her arms now wrap around, before pushing off with her back. Amanda flies backwards and lands on her spine, but quickly rolls back to her feet before lunging right at Ashley with a third attempt at the Yakuza kick…but it ends the same way the previous attempts did…with Ashley side stepping the inbound boot and swinging around behind Blayze.
She captures her around the waist and then snaps back into another German suplex…this time with the bridge. The duration of this bout has her body so weakened though, that she doesn’t realize her own shoulders are pressed to the canvas while maintaining the weight of Blayze across her chest.
Therefore when the official makes his count, he employs BOTH hands, since technically both ladies are caught in simultaneous pinning predicaments.
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At the very last second Amanda lifts a shoulder from the canvas and Ashley has no idea that she’s the recipient of the three count.
The bell chimes in the background to an explosive roar from the crowd.
Comeau: Wait…it’s over….I think, unless it’s some type of alcohol induced hallucination.
Kozlov: No delusion….Amanda has won it thanks to Ashley’s shoulders being down on the canvas while going for that bridging German suplex. The poor misguided lass doesn’t even realize that she’s lost this confrontation.
As the bell continues chiming, Ashley gets to her knees to celebrate only for said celebration to come to a crashing halt. Why, cause from the corner of her eye she spots the sight of Amanda’s arm being raised aloft in a victorious pose by the referee.
Comeau: Poor Ashley, she thought she had this match won….but she had no idea that her shoulders were pressed to the canvas as she was going for that German….and it just cost her dearly.
Kozlov: Such errors are not permissible in this stage of the game.
Comeau: In spite of it being a losing effort…what an effort nevertheless…these two athletes just put on an absolute clinic.
Kozlov: Yes, but if Ashley wanted a win, she should have put Amanda in a clinic.
The bell is still chiming to indicate that Amanda has picked up the win and that as unfortunate as it may be, Ashley has let victory slip through her clutches due to her inattentiveness. A standing ovation as a sign of respect is given to both Ashley and Amanda….who instead of throwing rights and lefts, throw hands in a different fashion, the two shaking hands in a mutual sign of respect post match.
Comeau: A great effort from both of these ladies.
Kozlov: So you say.
Comeau: Are you pretty much not impressed by anything?
Kozlov: No…perhaps the sight of your head mounted on a pike would be particularly inspiring.
Comeau: Moving right along then…we’ve got ANOTHER woman on our roster who is DETERMINED to impress the world, named Katelyn Buehler. Who has been down in our developmental territory, the New Age, plying her craft in an effort to one day claim the World Heavyweight Championship.
Kozlov: A feeble and misguided effort.
Comeau: Well, since she’s entered into training she’s managed to pick up a major win over Hurse at the pay-per-view. A man who mentored her throughout much of her career. So the training is paying off. And you know what, we actually have footage of some of that training she’s conducted these past few weeks. So let’s see the evolution of Katelyn Buehler.
Katelyn: This is my life…
An intense expression consumes the face of Katelyn Buehler….which is provided no pigment due to the grainy flexography and black and white palate.
The intensity of her expression is directly proportionate to the amount of exercise she’s doing in preparation for the biggest run of her career…culminating in a moment she’s been anticipating from the day she came up short against Taylor Chase to claim the title.
Katelyn: To come so close….to know what COULD have been…
Flashbacks feature Katelyn’s unrealized dream as she collides with the World Heavyweight Champion in her first ever one on one bout for the gold. Though she gets off to a hot start, nailing a cross body that takes Tay-Tay over the top rope…her inexperience and lack of training eventually proves to be a major detriment.
Katelyn: I thought I was going to prove my toughest critics wrong….that I was going to show them that I could rise above all my short comings, and my storied past to carry the weight of the IWC on my shoulders….instead of buckling under the strain.
In a series of brief flashes we see a small mirror with powder across its surface being divided by a razor blade into precise straight lines. The video cuts back to Buehler kicking out of a pulling piledriver delivered by the World Champion as blood pools across Katelyn’s face.
Katelyn: But instead, I proved them right, I proved everyone who ever doubted me, right. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t deserving. I couldn’t overcome who I was, and what I was into….
Blurry images show Katelyn swaying from side to side on a couch, laughing hysterically as she rubs at her red and nose and puffy eyes. Another transition into the match between Chase and Buehler, where Katelyn seems to be closing in on the victory with the Epic Fail, only to slip, fall to her butt and receive the TKO to the temple.
Katelyn: But all those negative influences….everything that held me back before…they’ve been removed from my life. And what you see standing before you now, is not a woman who had no right to challenge for the championship, not a woman who indulged in bottles, pills, and anything that could be snorted up her nose. This is a brand new Katelyn Buehler….a woman who has been saved…
A clip of Katelyn being baptized by Kitty Buehler overtakes the scene, her head being raised from the water. Buehler is then shown lifting weights in front of a body length mirror, throwing in a few squats in the process. It then switches to her doing mountain climbers, chin-ups, jumping rope, and wrestling Tiami Tyler in the New Age ring…and doing all of these things without a single botch.
Katelyn: And a woman who is nearly ready to challenge for the World Heavyweight Championship.
Nathan Creed watches as Katelyn manages to successfully counter a fujiwara by Tyler into a crucifix pin.
Nathan: I stand corrected…
A close up of Creed standing outside the training ring with a humbled expression on his face.
Nathan: I honestly didn’t think she had it in her. But the woman has cleaned up her act, and she’s shown a level of dedication to bettering herself both inside and outside of the ring that I wasn’t anticipating. It’s amazing to just sit back and watch her evolution…
We see Creed kneeling beside Katelyn as she sits Indian style in the corner of the ring, giving the exhausted but eager to learn Buehler some more pointers.
Nathan: She’s got the passion, she’s got the heart, and she’s got the drive….And boy does she ever have the ambition.
Back to the close up of Creed.
Nathan: I’m not afraid to go out on a limb here and tell everyone that Katelyn has the fire of a World Champion burning inside of her…and that Taylor Chase, better be ready….
Katelyn: Every day I grow stronger…I grow healthier…and I grow more and more determined…
More exercise footage of Buehler doing curls and running on a treadmill, all followed by another close up…this time of Katelyn kneeling in the ring as her forehead glows with perspiration.
Katelyn: Tay-Tay….or whomever the World Champion is….know your on borrowed time. Because absolutely nothing is going to keep me from becoming Champion….I’ll die before I fail again…
Hurse: I really…really wish that were all true.
Symbolically the trench coat and eye patch sporting Hurse has his back turned to the camera….as if he was unable to watch the footage that aired moments ago. He just stares into the corner of a room….void of any discernible characteristics.
Hurse:…that fairy tales and happy endings really existed. But they don’t. Katelyn has overcome a lot….she’s battled through plenty of set-backs….that much is true. And maybe she’s become a better athlete….Maybe she’s become a better person….And maybe she can give Taylor Chase a run for her money. Maybe one day I’ll regain vision in my right eye. Maybe one day there will be no famine or genocide. Maybe one day republicans and democrats will stand hand in hand on the steps to congress singing ‘we are family,’ and slow dancing ever so sensually.
Hurse finds the thought laughable, and he hasn’t laughed in a very long time.
Hurse: But we all know these things are NEVER going to happen. There are no Jimmy the Crickets…there are no Fairy God Mothers…there is no such magic in this reality of ours…And that’s what Katelyn is going to have to face, reality. This is no story book….and the only heroin here, is what’s been injected into Katelyn’s veins to give her this altered perception of the world. Someone has to bring Katelyn back down to earth, and I must be the man who does it….
Finally Hurse summons the strength to turn at least half his face…the good half…towards the camera and away from the corner.
Hurse: I have to be the Prince Charming in this fairy tale once again. I have to ride in upon my noble steed to rescue you, Katelyn, before you embarrass yourself again and come crashing down from your high to the depths of the gutter I’ve constantly had to drag your face out of. I care about you Katelyn, and that’s why I can’t in good conscious allow you to set yourself up for another disaster. You’re not ready…
He turns back towards the wall and paws at it…fingers sliding down the blocks.
Hurse:….And until you are ready, I’m going to do everything in my power to keep you away from that World Heavyweight Championship.
The wide and horrified eyes consume at least half of Susie Moore’s face as she steps towards the ring with trembling lips and some rather garish wrestling gear.
Comeau: Here’s a woman with NO Title ambitions, but she nevertheless will be challenging for gold in a few moments, as Mika Kozlov has hand picked her to be her challenger for the title.
Kozlov: Mika shall destroy this tart.
Comeau: Yes…it seems to me that Susie is about to walk right into a slaughter.
Tears almost stream down the cheeks of a mortified Moore as she continues on her way towards the ring, where unspeakable horrors await her.
EARLIER TONIGHT
A big soiree for a small and exclusive club…that club being the Kitty Khristian Kollective….engaging in some good ole’ fashion family friendly festivities after the baptismal ceremony. A make shift dance floor has been set up and a frivolous Simon Cagero is currently cutting a rug with several of the female members of Kitty’s congregation…Lois Prince amongst them.
One individual who is not engaged in the dancing or who is failing to have ANY type of fun is P. Clarence Whitman III….seated in the corner of the room with a blanket wrapped around him, shivering violently. His skin looks even more clammy than normal and beads of sweat are streaming down his face in spite of all his cold chills.
Kitty: Feeling any better, Mr. Whitman?
A hand pats his shoulder as Buehler moves in to the unoccupied seat at Whitman’s side.
Kitty: I do apologize for how cold the water was.
Whitman: WHAT!?!
Clarence leans in to try and to hear better while wiggling his finger through his ear.
Whitman: I’m sorry dear, but I have a horrid case of swimmer’s ear.
Kitty: Awww….swimmer‘s ear AND a cold…that‘s no good..
Whitman bats his eyes in confusion.
Whitman: I beg your pardon? I have no mold in my rear.
Kitty: I SAID, swimmer’s EAR and a COLD.
Whitman: Ah yes….I did grow it out to look a bit more old.
He rubs his still damp mustache.
It becomes apparent that Kitty is gonna have to get a little closer. She leans in and speaks directly into Whitman’s ear.
Kitty: I have to ask….what are your intentions for Lois?
It takes Whitman a moment or two to decipher what he just heard.
Whitman: Erm….I’m unsure what it is that you mean….
Kitty: She’s a very special woman, Clarence. You don’t want to risk losing her. You should make an honest woman of her, I think the two of you would truly be happy with one another.
Kitty leaves it at that as she gives another reassuring slap on the back then steps onto the dance floor. A miserable Whitman keeps digging his finger into his ear to try and purge it of some of the water.
Simon: Oh man…this is some shindig.
A different type of liquid is purged from Simon’s forehead, sweat, but there’s yet another fluid in his body that he would like to secrete…and all his dancing with the female congregates might just be building up to that. For now he takes a breather, slipping into the chair behind an increasingly uncomfortable Whitman. It seems the X-Class Champion is summoning the courage to clear his chest.
Simon: Percy, I’ve got to give it to you….
Whitman: Oh?
Cagero has no trepidation about saying what’s on his mind….having no pressure weighing upon his chest.
Simon: You’re a lot more clever than anyone gives you credit for.
Whitman: Oh?
Simon: Yep. You got a good thing going here, Chief.
Whitman: Do I?
Simon: Can’t believe I didn’t think of doing this sooner. I mean, just look at all that tail on the dance floor…All that untapped potential.
Whitman: Erm….what?
Simon: There’s nothing that turns me on more than church chicks….with those tight turtle neck sweaters and those knee length skirts. Mmmmm…..leaves WAY too much to my imagination.
Whitman: Oh yes….wait…..Is THAT why you’re here? To bag the church chicks?
Simon: Why else are WE here? Percy. Tell me, how many times did you close the deal with Lois over there? Girl’s ass is totally GOAT.
As if Whitman wasn’t uncomfortable enough.
Whitman: Did you just insinuate that Lois’ derriere is reminiscent of a farm animal? And I don’t feel comfortable discussing my relations with….
Simon: So there HAVE been relations? Sweet….Put it there, Brother.
Knuckles extend but the prudish Whitman does not pound them. This forces Simon to take the Champion’s hand, ball it up and drag his knuckles against his own.
Simon: So would you mind if I got some sloppy seconds?
Whitman: I’m sorry?
Simon: Gotta SPREAD the wealth, fucker.
Whitman: I’m not following.
Simon: Now that you’ve hit it-quit it, and probably opened the hole a little larger for my enormous cock….I think I‘ll…
Whitman: MR. CAGERO…I have you know that there was no such hitting….
Simon: Do you think she’ll mind if I film us? Or at least take some pictures?
Whitman: I would not know….and I’m afraid Mrs. Prince and I are….
Simon: DAMN what an ass. Bet she’s a total hellcat in the sack, am I right?
Whitman: Mr. Cagero, I don’t think you understand my relationship with….
Lois: You feeling any better?
Lois steps in and fills the unoccupied chair to the opposite side of Whitman, putting a hand on his knee.
Whitman: I’m afraid not…I actually feel quite unwell at the moment.
An eye turns towards the man who only seems to be exacerbating his ailments.
Lois: Hmmm, you seem to be getting sick A LOT lately…Like when you had that stomach buggy a few weeks ago.
Whitman: Oh…ummmm…yes.
Lois: Want me to take you home? I can make you some chicken noodle soup and we can watch a few more episodes of Lost.
Whitman: That actually sounds quite….
Simon: Nah-nah-nah!
Cagero almost leans over Whitman, forcing him to the background, in order to get Lois’ full attention.
Simon: Percy was just telling me how he feels so bad for being a literal wet blanket. He knows how big this night is for everyone and wouldn’t dream of ruining our good time.
Lois: Awwww….always thinking of others.
Simon: That’s our boy, Percy, such a compassionate fella’…
Whitman brushes aside the hand that was rubbing the top of his scalp.
Simon: And you know what else Percy regrets? Never having taken you to the ring with him?
Lois: Really? Well…I did watch from the crowd a few weeks ago.
Simon: Ah well, that’s not nearly as good as being right there at ringside…in the thick of it.
Cagero feigns an epiphany.
Simon: But you know what, Lois…we can fix that tonight…Since Whitman’s not booked, how about you come to the ring with ME.
Lois looks uncertain.
Simon: Don’t worry about a thing. I won’t let Ba’al or anyone else get there hands on you out there….Not with Christ on my side. Actually, with such weirdoes running around these parts, you’ll be safer at ringside with me, than back here with a sick and weakened Whitman.
Lois: Hmmm, very valid points.
Simon: Yep, Percy thought so too. Which is why he’s designated me to be your protector tonight…just like at the pay-per-view. So I’ll escort you to the ring where you’ll have a whole new perspective of what it is that Percy and I do on a nightly basis.
Lois: Wow, been trying to learn more about Clarence’s profession, and it sounds fun.
Simon: I know…doesn’t it? But what’s even more fun, is Jesus Christ, our savior…every night was a toga party with that guy.
Lois: Sure.
Her eyes do the obligatory awkward blink.
Lois: I guess I’ll see you out there.
Prince rises to her feet and goes back to the dance floor leaving Simon and Whitman to engage in even more uncomfortable dialogue.
Simon: So easy…Just mention Jesus Christ a few times…Say hallelujah now and then…pretend you know some bible scripture, and these girls will let you melt in their mouth.
Whitman at last goes to speak up before getting a slap on the knee.
Simon: You’re a brilliant man, Whitman…
He gets up to go before stopping and whispering into Clarence’s ear.
Simon: Oh….and FYI…might not want to drink the punch, I put a little extra something in there to liven up the party and loosen some lips….not the ones on a face.
A panicked Whitman turns to the punch bowel, where an attractive lady is currently scooping some juice into a cup. In spite of his ailments, Whitman lunges to his feet and begins to dash across the room only to get his foot caught on an electrical wire. The cord is then ripped out of the wall and the music in the room dies, resulting in groans from the crowd. Groans followed by screams as the X-Class Champion tumbles into the punch table, knocking the bowl over and causing his head to covered in the liquid….but he’s not the only one who suffers. Several filled glasses fly from the table and spill onto members of the congregation, Lois as well.
Lois: CLARENCE!
Whitman may have been uncomfortable seated next to Cagero…so imagine how Comeau feels seated next to the brooding menace that is Nicolai Kozlov.
Comeau: Things not going too well for P Clarence Whitman III this evening. He might need to borrow some of those barbiturates I bought last week.
Kozlov: I have other means of obtaining solace.
Comeau: I bet you do. But anyways, we’re just a few weeks removed from the End of the Year Celebration….
Comeau: And we just got some MAJOR news about that event.
Kozlov: Major? How easily amused you are.
Comeau: Actually it’s taking so much black coffee just to keep me conscious and to counteract the effects of the amoxapine. Anyway, as we understand it, at this particular event, not only will the IWC be holding the first ever secret santa for staff and roster, but there’s going to be a special 7 on 7 elimination tag team match pitting a team led by World Champion Taylor Chase, against a team captained by Number One Contender, Simon Cagero.
Kozlov: Survival of the fittest.
Comeau: Indeed, and as I understand it, those teams will be selected before the end of the….
Laymon: BEER! Get your BEER here!!
Much to Mark’s annoyance, he’s interrupted AGAIN by Jacob Laymon, who is currently dispensing alcohol to the already inebriated masses and passing entirely too close to the announce table.
<img src=http://i413.photobucket.com/albums/pp220/Hurse/matt-3.png>
The curtains part at this point and through them passes…without intro music or video….a quivering Susie Moore. Her eyes twist from one side of the ramp to the other, and then over her shoulder to make sure there’s no one waiting in the wings to harm her. In spite of having zero wrestling matches under her very loose belt, Susie prepares to compete against Mika for the Evolution Championship….the first, and if there’s such a thing as miracles, LAST challenger for the Evolution Title tonight. Hesitantly she climbs the stairs and slips through the ropes, taking several deep breaths once within the ring.
Kozlov: A lamb on the eve of sacrifice.
Comeau: That’s PRECISELY what Susie is….She’s about to be slaughtered by Mika Kozlov…who handpicked her to be her challenger for the Evolution Title tonight. This is total BS.
Kozlov: Why, because Mika decided to think unconventionally? Why is it that anyone who thinks outside the box is automatically degraded by this company?
Comeau: The woman has never wrestled!
Kozlov: Are you arguing with me?
Comeau: No.
Susie is absolutely shaking like a leaf in a hurricane….especially when the intro track for Mika Kozlov plays over the PA system and to the stage stoically strides the holder of the Evolution Championship. When referee Wright slides into the ring, Susie realizes that this is truly inevitable.
Kozlov: And there she is, arschloch, OUR Evolution Champion….about to do the right thing and defend her title.
Comeau: Against a commentator…One with a tenth of a brain and a tenth of Mika‘s talent.
Kozlov: Cynicism?
Comeau: Absolutely NOT.
Kozlov: I didn’t think so.
Normally Mika would methodically step to the ring to further intimidate her opponent, but tonight she just lurks on the ramp….clutching a microphone in hand…using words to inspire Susie’s fear.
Mika: Hello, Susie….I’m glad to see you are as compliant as you are beautiful…you really do have some lovely eyes….
Susie’s blushing, but not out of bashfulness, but out of the terror that continues to squeeze her intestines.
Mika: But I’m afraid there’s been a change in plans this evening. It’s been brought to the Blacklist’s attention that you have very little experience in the ring…
Comeau: Try NO experience.
Kozlov: Are you interrupting my cousin, blvde fotze?
Comeau: I prefer my teeth in my mouth, so no.
Mika: So to make sure you’re capable of being a formidable challenge for the Blacklist’s Evolution Title, much like Porno Lad and Trailer Park Kid, you’ll be wrestling in a tune up match. Against….this man….
A gesture is made to the entry way….but cameras quickly shift to the backstage area….
Another sigil has been drawn behind the curtains and Mr. Gaunt kneels over it. A few inches removed from the edge of the emblem is a pacing Billy Mayne, growing very impatient.
Mayne: You had better do this right…Leeland….
Mr. Gaunt: It’s MISTER Gaunt…
Mayne: Alright, summon your monster and send him to the ring to destroy that twiggy bimbo…Do it now!
The threatening tone in Billy’s voice actually makes Mr. Gaunt chuckle ever so lightly.
Mr. Gaunt: Are you trying to intimidate me.
Mayne: Depends….is it working.
Mr. Gaunt: No.
Mayne: Alright…then would you PLEASE summon, Legion…
Mr. Gaunt: Oh….
Lights flicker, watches stop and cell-phones go dead.
Mr. Gaunt: He should be along shortly.
A few more bulbs explode, sending sparks cascading down onto the kneeling Mr. Gaunt.
MIKA VERSUS MOORE
The lights within the Manhattan Center have taken on an intimidating crimson palate as Mika now watches from the ringside area as a figure’s arms rip their way up through the stage. Susie is too paralyzed with fear to do much of anything other than crouch in the corner and weep at the sight of the incredibly frail looking half naked man pulling himself up onto the stage, with a sock covering his nether regions and a Legion mask adorning his face.
Comeau: Looks like Legion has underwent another of those radical weight fluctuations. He looks even skinnier than he did a few moments ago. Actually, is there a muscle in that entire body?
Kozlov: I possess more muscles in my big toe than this man has within his whole body.
Those ardent and loyal supporters of the IWC realize instantly that the man making his way down the ramp is NOT Legion, but the infamous Naked Ned…yet another member of the group known in the olden days of IWC lore as the Loons. ‘Legion’ stops at ringside to shake his exposed posterior in the direction of Kozlov…who yawns in response…having predicted this likely outcome. Susie becomes a little less tense in the ring, actually smiling as she realizes that Legion has lost most of his mass and his intimidating physique.
‘Legion’ climbs up onto the apron and continues to sashay much to the delight of the masses and Susie, who somehow has discovered a dollar bill in stuffed in the pocket of the sweats she’s wearing. She forks it over to the almost entirely nude ‘Legion.’ But the fun and the frivolity continues when Moore is spun around, has both arms hooked and is dropped right on top of her head via the Dos-Vi-Dania.
Susie’s head snaps back and she flops to her spine just as ‘Legion’ leaps from the apron and dances his way to the backstage area.
Comeau: Well, Legion may not have proven himself very effective in a physical capacity, but he did distract Susie long enough to fall victim to the Dos-Vi-Dania.
Kozlov: See…THIS is what the two ladies in your previous match lacked…the killer instinct possessed by my cousin.
The kill move may have already been performed but Kozlov sits on the canvas instead of going for the pin. She smiles in the direction of the laid out Susie, who is barely conscious. Mika crawls towards her and begins to slap her on the cheek.
Mika: Stay with me, gorgeous. Don’t pass out just yet…you‘re so funny…I want you to make me smile…I want you to make me laugh.
Susie begins to come through, and once she does, her face goes pale white at the sight of Mika staring down at her.
Mika: There we go, BRIGHT EYES….So compliant.
Mika stands up and grabs Susie’s arm, lifting it off the canvas to help her to her feet…or so that’s what it seemed, cause now Mika pulls Susie in, scoops her up and delivers the Babushka. The back of Moore’s head collides with the canvas at such a disgusting angle that fans find it hard to relive the replays on the big screen.
Comeau: This is just…
Kozlov: Do not condemn my cousin for her actions. This is the RIGHT thing to do.
Comeau: Beating down a defenseless Susie Moore?
Kozlov: Indeed.
The barely conscious Susie has no idea her legs are being raised into the air before their trapped in Mika’s Red Dawn submission hold. The pain is enough to drag Moore out of her unconscious state, lunging to her seat and screaming at the top of her lungs. Her palms instantly slap the canvas, tapping out. Official Wright then turns to call for the bell but Mika is not breaking the submission. In fact, she applies even greater punishment on the legs until they are on the verge of snapping.
Susie: PLEASE! PLEASE STOP!!
Mika: Make me LAUGH, drug…make me LAUGH.
No matter how much Susie taps, and how much she begs Mika won’t let her go.
Comeau: This is….
Kozlov: Yes?
Comeau:…The point where I keep my mouth shut.
Kozlov: I figured as much.
The tapping the screaming gets louder until Susie begins to pass out from the pain. Just before she can completely fade away, her toes are freed from Mika, and used to drag her towards the turnbuckle. Mika rolls under the ropes and then takes Moore’s legs, wrapping them around the ring post.
Comeau: Oh no….oh nooo.
Now Mika has transitioned into a figure four leg lock around the ring post, causing Susie’s roars to echo throughout the building. Moore sits up and cries…BEGS…PLEADS for mercy…and Mika relishes every sob…every scream…every whimper.
Comeau: I think she’s had enough.
Kozlov: Do you now? I believe my cousin would disagree.
The pain is too much…just too much for Susie’s mind to handle…so it tries to black out…but Mika’s not about to let that happen. She breaks the hold, approaches the mats, grabs hold of them and throws them aside to expose the concrete beneath.
Comeau: Oh don’t do this…come on now…what did Susie ever do to deserve this?
Kozlov: She questioned the authority of the Blacklist….and you don’t get away with that under this regime. Individuals like Orlando Cruze….Desmond Drake…they lacked the capacity to deal with talent who questioned their powers.
Susie will never be able to question anything again, or perhaps not even speak as Mika pulls her from the ring and drops her near lifeless body over the exposed concrete. Kozlov then hooks her arms and before the crowd can fully react, drops Moore skull first into the cement with the Dos-Vi-Dania.
Comeau: OH GAWD..Oh GOD…COME ON NOW!
With her skull perhaps fractured, and blood beginning to dribble down from her scalp to her chin, Susie lies on the concrete without a single twitch of her body. Mika sits up listening to the all too unfamiliar wails of the crowd, which seem to motivate her. She rolls towards the ring, grabs the tarp hanging from the apron, and throws it into the air before retrieving a steel chair.
Kozlov: Yes, Mike, I agree….she hasn’t suffered enough yet.
Comeau: What is the point of this? What is the motivation behind this?
Kozlov: There is no point, there is no motivation, it’s just….FUN.
That’s right…evident by the expression on Mika’s face she’s having a blast…even as he raises the chair above her head and brings it down directly over Susie’s head, crushing it between the steel and the concrete.
Comeau: Ah Jesus…I can’t watch this anymore…I just can’t!
Kozlov: You will watch, Dummes Huhn….be privy to this…all of this.
Mika’s cousin physically grabs Mark by the jaw and the top of his head, turning it so that he can watch this disturbing footage unfold. The chair, left with an indentation of Susie’s skull, is thrown aside so as not to get in the way. Mika drops to her knees beside the motionless commentator, who probably couldn’t even move her bowls at the moment. Kozlov drops to her elbows directly beside her bloodied victim while removing a phone from her pocket, using it to get a close up snapshot of the mangled Moore.
Comeau: This might be the hardest thing I’ve ever been forced to watch.
Kozlov: You’re weak stomach is truly pathetic.
A hair is brushed aside from Susie’s face so that there’s nothing obscuring the image of her broken skull…one that is currently being filmed by Mika’s I-phone.
Mika: Congrats, dear, you put a smile on my face.
Chase: What….I’m still…..how did you…?
Try as he may, Adam Chase just cannot wrap his mind around what happened out there earlier in the night….He finds it even more difficult to do so every time he glances at the Tag Team Title belt situated over the shoulder of his client, Gavin Taylor. Unfortunately the All-Star doesn’t have any answers to put his agent’s mind at ease. So Adam just paces in the confines of the dressing room, scratching at the back of his skull.
Chase: How did you end up with this? HOW!?!
His knuckle taps the gold plate of the Tag Team Championship.
Gavin: I honest to God wish I knew how I ended up with this thing…
Instantly Gavin tries to make lemonade out of piss.
Gavin: But hey…looks like you were true to your word….I have a championship.
Chase: Wait…what?
Gavin: You said you were going to make me a champion…and well…here I am…a Champion.
His hand strokes the surface of the Championship belt.
Chase: You CANNOT be serious? You’re not about to hold that strap alongside those idiots Porno Lad and Trailer Park Kid.
Gavin: Hey. I distinctly remember you saying to win the belts through ‘whatever means necessary.’
Chase: But I didn’t mean like this!
Gavin: Well, it’s over, it’s done…nothing we can do about it now.
Adam is about to tear hair out.
Chase: How can you be so calm about this? You’re forced into a friggin team with Porno Lad and TPKid.
Gavin continues to exude confidence, and doesn’t need to mess his hair whatsoever.
Gavin: I’m a champion now, Adam, and that’s all that matters.
That’s ALL he has left to say, grabbing his gym bag and turning to leave the locker-room while Chase stands behind and asks himself a very selfish question, what does HE get out of all this.
Unity steps shoulder and shoulder down the corridor eventually leading to the ring, engaging in some last second discussion before they fulfill their course of action.
Pearson: Are you really sure we can trust her?
Kathryn seems to be a bit more hesitant to buy into the change in the attitude of the World Heavyweight Champion. But Knight, she’s a bit more convinced.
Knight: How can you even ask me that question after her performance at the pay-per-view?
There’s no arguing with that logic, given the extent of Taylor’s valiant effort at Upping the Ante.
Knight: Let’s do this.
The two proceed down the corridor and towards the ring, where a major offer is about to be made.
Harrison: I guess all that is left to say is……thank you.
Ba’al remains slouched to his side in the chair, not even perking up as he hears this comment uttered by Harrison, who is leaning with his back to the corner of a wall. This discussion is made in the office formerly occupied by the Icon, and by Desmond Drake, but it does NOT resemble a room befitting of those in power. Orlando’s desk has finally been killed, reduced to a pile of rubble in the middle of the office, and the monitor that was once situated in the corner, features a broken screen with a wilted flower resting within it.
Harrison: We do appreciate your assistance at the pay-per-view.
Ba’al: I’m sure you do, without it, your set up of Desmond Drake wouldn’t have gone as planned, yes?
Harrison: Indeed, you were instrumental in helping us set up that gullible little Halfling. You told Mr.. Gaunt exactly what we needed him to hear in order to send Legion after our target.
Ba’al: I do enjoy a good plan coming together, Mr. Harrison, but rest assured that my assistance comes at a steep price.
Harrison tilts his head….intrigued.
Harrison: You will be repaid in full. Trust me. I’m a man of my word.
A smile comes over Ba’al’s face as he rises from his chair.
Ba’al: As am I, Mr. Harrison, as am I.
Just as Ba’al is making his exit, Mika Kozlov is entering. She steps into the room with her eyes buried in her I-Phone, replaying the footage she captured of Susie Moore’s mangled skull. She only looks up once addressed by Harrison.
Harrison: Having fun?
Mika: Meh’….
Harrison: Something wrong, my Mika?
Mika: Just growing sick of Legion and the Black Crusade. They keep finding a way to snub their nose at our authority.
Harrison: And you find this..surprising?
Mika: No…but it SHOULD be dealt with. PLEASE let me deal with it….PLEASE!
Harrison: I’ve got it taken care of, my Mika….
Mika: Do you now?
Harrison: Of course. I’ve decided on a challenger for my Evolution Championship.
Mika: How does that….?
Kozlov silences the moment she looks into Aaron’s eyes.
Mika: Ooooooohhh.
Into the hall steps Ba’al, who lets the door shut behind him before commencing down the corridor. However, he only gets a few steps before finding his path blocked by an assortment of chickens, pigeons and other fowl feasting on seeds. Instead of reacting fearfully Ba’al bends down and grabs one of the chickens by its talons, holding it upside down. He carries it away while kicking the other birds out of his path.
As the birds coo and caw while Ba’al walks away, a figure materializes from a trashcan a few inches away. Silence’s head appears with a banana peel resting on top of her skull and a notepad in her hands. Se quickly jots down her findings.
Silence: We can scratch Alektorophobia off the list.
The intro lyrics of Unity are still playing in the background even though the duo has already reached the ring, and a microphone has already found its way into Yvonne Knight’s hand.
Comeau: Alright, we’re carrying on with the show apparently, but it’s gonna be difficult to get over what we all just saw here.
Kozlov: I’ve already moved past it.
Comeau: I bet you have, Susie Moore was just decimated out here…
Kozlov: You call that decimated? My cousin let her off light.
Comeau: Apparently we have different opinions of the term ‘decimated.’ Anyway, Susie, much like Johnny Dollar, was carted to the back and as we understand it, has been taken to a local medical facility via ambulance. But now we turn things over to the Unity, who apparently have some type of statement they want to make.
Kozlov: As if anyone cares what these ‘women’ think.
Apparently the crowd DOES care, because they wait with baited breaths for Knight to get on with it.
Knight: Hello NEW YORK CITY!
The fans cheer and foam at the mouths simultaneously.
Knight: Kathryn and I LOVED our time in Las Vegas, but we like being here in our home base of operations, surrounding by our friends, so much more. And speaking of friendship, that brings us to you, Taylor Chase.
Yvonne stops directing comments to the crowd, but to the camera.
Knight: At the pay-per-view we made an offer to watch you’re back, for a couple of reasons. For starters, we like the Blacklist about as much as getting our legs waxed….
The crowd agrees, hence their boos at the slightest reference to the Blacklist.
Knight: But more importantly, we offered our help because we’ve seen an evolution in you, Tay-Tay. You’re not the same self-centered, ego-driven, me-me-me girl you were when you FIRST showed up here in the IWC. Instead of taking away from this industry, like us, you seem ready to give something back. Otherwise you wouldn’t have went out to fight the Blacklist at the pay-per-view when the odds clearly were not in your favor. If you didn’t care about the championship, or this business, you would have bailed on the match and ultimately spat on the legacy of the title.
Kathryn, who ALSO has a microphone in hand, picks up where her partner left off.
Kathryn: You showed a lot of backbone…a lot of courage and spirit, Taylor…and that’s why we feel so comfortable offering you a coveted spot in the ranks of Unity.
Cue massive pop.
Kathyrn: So Tay-Tay, we know you’re watching from wherever you might be at the moment, and we hope you take this offer into consid….
I AM DONE PRETENDING
”Lights Out” by Breaking Benjamin hits the PA system and the curtains slowly part to reveal a slithering Brittany Lohan. She reaches the stage then rises to her knees with Cassidy Haze skipping out behind her, then skipping in a circle around her. Finally she ends up behind Brittany, leaning down and wrapping her arms lovingly around Lohan’s neck. But there is no love….no love at all…shown by Unity, in particular Kathryn, who scowls at the Blue Eyed Demon and her spunky cohort. Lohan and Haze proceed to the ring and up the steps, undeterred by the scowl.
Comeau: At the pay-per-view, Dark Legacy was interrupted by Unity, so I guess turn around is fair play.
Kozlov: I would do far worse than JUST interrupt someone who had stepped on my toes.
Comeau: Lohan and Pearson once again coming face to face tonight, and we all know it’s NOT going to be end on good terms.
Though everyone expects fists to fly, instead it’s words that do the damage, words spoken by Lohan through the microphone Cassidy retrieved for her mentor.
Lohan: Katie-Katie-Katie, here we go again….
Pearson would rather ‘go’ in a different fashion, fists already clinched and ready to be swung.
Lohan: You get too big for your panties, and then I have to come along and burst your bubble by bringing you back down to earth. Ands us, here on earth, know where Taylor Chase’s true allegiances lie…with Dark Legacy.
Kathryn goes to react but a hand is placed over the microphone by Knight, who tries to calm her partner down before something is said that would transform the situation from a heated argument, to a heated fist fight.
Knight: Brittany….
Lohan crosses her arms and waits for something ‘interesting’ to be said.
Knight: We’ve had our problems over the past few weeks….yes….but that doesn’t mean we can’t come to an understanding.
Haze: An UNDERSTANDING? Between Unity and Dark Legacy? FUN-eeeeee.
Knight: I admit, it sounds far-fetched, but we can all agree that we want what’s best for Tay-Tay.
Brittany sighs….mostly cause she can’t argue with Yvonne’s logic.
Knight: And if that’s what you REALLY want, Brittany…then you need to leave Taylor alone
Now she CAN argue with Yvonne’s logic.
Knight: You’re a bad influence on her….
Lohan: And how do YOU know what Taylor needs? You’ve known her for what…all of five minutes? I’ve been at her side for a very long time….
Pearson: Tay-Tay’s trying to become a better person, Brittany. She’s trying to grow as a human being. WE can help her do that? WE can make her a World Champion that all of these people can respect. But you….you’ll continue taking her down a dark path….a path she doesn’t want to be on.
Lohan: No….wtih Dark Legacy at Taylor’s side, we’ll take her down a path of success….She’ll never taste defeat and constantly be under the spotlight with Dark Legacy backing her up. We’ll make sure she NEVER loses that title, and that she becomes the GREATEST World Heavyweight Champion in the history of wrestling. Only WE, Dark Legacy, can ensure that happens.
Knight: But Tay-Tay doesn’t want to be the type of champion who wins by hook or crook, she wants to embody excellence, and the tactics you employ, aren’t going to help her accomplish that goal….
Lohan: Again….you don’t know what Taylor needs….I do….And what she doesn’t need are the two of you distracting her from doing whatever it takes to keep the World Championship around her waist. You two are a dangerous distraction, and it’s about time I do something about it.
Pearson: You’re welcome to try.
Again Yvonne implores her partner to bite her tongue.
Lohan: Katie-Katie-Katie….so eager to be destroyed are we? But I’m afraid you’re gonna have to wait until the End of the Year Celebration. Because in an act of penance, I’ve requested the very title match for the N.H.B Champion that distracted me from protecting Taylor these past few weeks, be put on hold so I can complete the task of removing the two biggest distractions to Chase. The two of you.
Pearson: Is that so?
Haze: That’s RIGHT girlfriends….because Lohan and I are challenging the two of you to a match at the End of the Year Celebration…. Team Dark Legacy versus Team Unity!
Lohan: The two of you captain a team of people who follow your misguided idealism, and Dark Legacy will captain a team of people who believe in doing what it actually takes around here to win.
Kathryn and Yvonne look towards one another and don’t say a single word….so in synch they automatically know what the other is thinking.
Pearson: If you’re willing to put your N.H.B Title match on hold, then I can wait to challenge for the X-Class Championship. I mean, if it gives us the opportunity to end this issue between us, and put YOU out of Taylor’s life for good, then we gladly accept.
Lohan: Katie-Katie-Katie….Taylor and I are as thick as thieves. And I’m sure she’ll show that at the End of the Year Special, when after the Team Unity versus Team Dark Legacy match, Taylor stands beside those who have proven their way to be the only way…the one true way…
Pearson: The way of honor and respect.
Lohan: We’ll see Katie, we’ll see.
Haze: Now if you ladies will excuse us, we’re going to mosey on out of this ring and do that whole scouting thing.
Cassidy drops the mic and skips to the ropes, slipping through them. In the process she leaves behind her partner, Lohan eyeballing Pearson but Kathryn beaming the stare right back into her face. At last the two back away from one another but do not break eye contact, even as Lohan is slipping through the ropes, dropping down to the ringside area and snatching a chair out of the front row. She and Cassidy plant themselves in some chairs and watch the action about to take place.
Kozlov: Lohan and Haze going to sit right there and wisely inspect these misguided idealists.
Comeau: Misguided?
Kozlov: Their ideas about honor and respect and so forth, are total and complete hogwash. And it’ll cost them dearly, especially when they lock up with Lohan and Haze at this End of the Year Debacle.
Comeau: That’s an arguable point.
Kozlov: Is it now?
Comeau: Absolutely not. Would never DREAM of arguing with you.
The added wrinkle of having Dark Legacy watching from ringside creates a bit of concern for Knight and Pearson, but the two try not to lose their focus. Already Yvonne is talking strategy to Pearson, even if her eyes keep diverting to the smirk on Lohan’s face. In the meanwhile the intro tunes to the End Effect rouse them from their conversation, and finally turns Pearson’s gaze from Brittany to the stage…a stage now occupied by Brandy Danielle, Rain, Jackson Adams, Priest, and their manager, Fury. The five of them embark towards the ring, which has been a canvas for their carnage throughout the night.
Kozlov: Five individuals demanding of respect certainly earned a little of mine earlier this evening…making an example of Johnny Dollar.
Comeau: Which created quite a bit of chaos that ultimately led to Gavin Taylor ‘becoming’ a co-holder of the Tag Team Championships. Is he now part of this Freedbirds style three man contingent or what? Guess we’ll have to wait for answers on that, but we’re not going to anticipate what the End Effect will do next, because their about to wage war with Unity for the number one contendership at the Tag Team Titles.
The five people who have created so much chaos already linger at ringside to discuss the upcoming contest…and what parts each of them will play. Once confident in their strategy, the huddle breaks and Rain and Brandy slide into the ring. Yvonne is still trying to get Kathryn entirely focused on the upcoming contest but before she can finish, Kathryn is screeching into her mentor’s ear and brushing her aside. She gets a boot up just in time to catch the ribs of the inbound Brandy, who looks to seize an unfair pre-match advantage.
The bell chimes and its Brandy’s bell that’s rung by a right hand, followed by another, and then another…knocking her back across the ring.
Kozlov: That’s more like it…Brandy Danielle doing precisely what it takes to get the advantage….
Comeau: Treachery and pre-bell attacks?
Kozlov: All it takes, Comeau, all it takes.
Comeau: Doesn’t look like it’s fairing too well for the End Effect at the moment.
Lohan puts fist to chin, leaning forward and watching very intently as forearm after forearm connects from Pearson to Brandy’s chin. A knife edge chop shortly thereafter connects across sternum before Kathryn whips her off across the ring. But Brandy not only stops in mid-swing, but reverse it, by pulling her opponent into a back elbow to the lips. Pearson staggers back and Brandy takes off into the ropes of her own accord, launching off right back into Kathryn’s feet. She leaps into the air and connects with a dropkick right on the jaw, putting Danielle to the canvas, which she rolls across before eventually slapping the knee of Rain.
The masked combatant leaps over the top rope and rushes towards Kathryn only to be caught under the arm and shockingly hip tossed by a deceptively strong Pearson…who must have received a lot of strength training from her incredibly strong Yvonne.
Kathryn then shows agility by cart wheeling across the canvas, slapping Ivy’s shoulder and bringing her into the match. She and Ivy then deliver a simultaneous rushing dropkick to the chest of the seated Rain, putting him on his spine.
Comeau: Unity keeping this match at a break neck pace and throwing their opponents completely off their guard.
Kozlov: It’ll be a moment or two before Unity finds their ridiculous ideas of honor and dignity coming back to haunt them and serve as a detriment.
The stereo dropkick has Rain rolling across the ring, trying to put some space between he and his opponents. He gets right into the turnbuckle, employing it to reach his feet then turning just as Pearson is whipped by Yvonne into a modified cross body. The side of her abdomen slams into Rain’s ribs, and her body then goes through the ropes, ending up on the apron. She stands, grabs the back of Rain’s head and pushes him forward out of the corner into a big leaping lariat from Knight.
The masked member of the End Effect collapses to canvas while Yvonne lands at his side. At the same time that Knight shows dominance in the ring, the End Effect displays treachery outside of it. Adams and Fury grab both of Pearson’s ankles and pluck her feet right out from under her. As a result Kathryn comes crashing down jaw first into the apron. Her head snaps back and she goes to the mats in an incoherent stupor.
The referee might not have seen this but Yvonne definitely did, hence why she’s rushing at the ropes and shouting through them at the knuckle bumping members of the End Effect…saluting one another for their repressible actions.
Comeau: Hey now, get your eyes on the match, Ref!
Kozlov: Didn’t I tell you all this heroism would plague Unity?
The distraction proves unfortunate for Ivy, who took her attention off Rain a second too long. He takes full advantage, rushing up beside Yvonne, who is still leaning through the ropes and then delivers the 619. Shins collide with Knight’s face, sending her flying back and eventually collapsing to the canvas. The deflated fans react with dejection as Rain slips into the ring and then rushes across it towards a now kneeling Knight.
He catches her with a lariat to the back of her neck, sending her lovely face bumping against the canvas. Rain then turns around and waits for Knight to pop back up to her knees thanks to the whiplash effect. He then charges in and connects with a big boot right between the eyes, putting her on her spine. Without hesitation, Rain leaps over his opponent, and slaps the outstretched hand of Brandy. She instantly climbs through the ropes and then pulls herself up onto the middle cable before leaping off into a diving bionic elbow.
She crashes down right across Yvonne’s face, then pops up to her feet and connects with a dropping forearm. Back to her feet and back down into another forearm. Back to her feet and back down into ANOTHER forearm.
At last she sits Yvonne up on the canvas, darts into the ropes, ricochets off and leaps into a sliding elbow to the…you guessed it…face.
Brandy then rolls back to her feet and waits…waits…waits….just long enough for Yvonne to get to her knees….Exhausting herself just so she can receive a side kick right to the cheek. Knight is sent twisting down to the canvas while her opponent twists into a tag to Rain.
The masked combatant enters the fray, and slides his fingers around the jaw of his foe, leading her up only to give her a taste of his forearm. It’s driven right between her lips and followed by a boot right between the ribs, doubling Knight over.
By the back of the head she’s then charged right into his team’s corner, driving her face into the boot that Brandy has placed over the top rope. Knight’s head bounces off and her body spirals to the canvas as a result.
Another quick tag is made, ensuring that the End Effect remains fresh in this match.
Comeau: And the End Effect making a lot of tags, constantly keeping a fresh member in the match and Yvonne on her back.
Kozlov: These two driven to remorseless acts by their title ambitions.
Comeau: Yep. Rain and Brandy realize that a shot at the Tag Team Titles is on the line here, hence why they’ve turned it up a notch in this bout.
Yvonne doesn’t stay down for long, dragged along to her feet, and up into a scoop slam across the elevated knee of his partner.
The back breaker connects and leaves Yvonne seated on the canvas, grimacing from the trauma to her kidneys…kidneys now subjected a simultaneous buzz saw style kick from both Rain AND Brandy.
The shots possibly hit BOTH kidneys and leaves Yvonne in a state of perpetual agony….Agony intensified by the bear hug applied not with arms, but with the powerful thighs of Danielle. Her thick legs squeeze at Knight’s ribs like a serpent squishing her prey so that she can be easily devoured.
The vice continues to be employed to Knight’s detriment and potential loss this evening. Her pain elicit’s a response out of Brittany and Cassidy, prompting the two to inch closer to the edges of their chairs. It appears that Brittany is starting to REALLY enjoy what she’s seeing here…the suffrage of the bright eyed Knight and the potential loss of her tag team title ambitions.
But Ivy won’t be the weak link…she won’t be the sacrificial lamb of her team…she won’t be the one who loses this entirely too important match. An elbow drives down into the ankles of Brandy, followed by another, and another until the legs start to break away from her ribs. Finally she is FORCED to release Knight, who stands up, turns, and extends a leg through Brandy’s….attempting a sharpshooter.
Comeau: If she gets this locked in, it would definitely turn the tide in her team’s favor…and we might see Unity on their way to a SECOND title reign.
But Brandy won’t be the weak line either….and she won’t be the sacrificial lamb either….she won’t be the one who loses this entirely too important match either. She bends knees, brings Yvonne in closer and throws five knuckles into her opponent’s forehead. The weakened Knight falls away from her adversary to her elbows and knees, then crawls across them towards her partner, extending her hand to make a tag to Pearson.
Kathryn has recovered to climb into her corner, reaching out to reciprocate the tag only to be caught on the shoulders of Priest. The big man pulls Kathryn away from the apron, holding her up in a power bomb position and keeping her from being able to make the tag.
Kozlov: Intriguing strategy.
Comeau: This is….
Kozlov: Yes?
Comeau: Just as you said, intriguing strategy.
More pills are popped by Comeau in order to make it through the night, and Pearson is throwing right hands down into Priest’s face to make it through this match. Referee Wright is currently of no help, being distracted by Danielle, who has hold of his shirt, turning him away from Pearson’s plight.
But perhaps Kathryn’s fate isn’t entirely sealed as of yet….because journeying down the ramp are three intrepid souls intent on depriving the End Effect this repulsive injustice. Brooklyn, Nathan and Matt are bound towards the ring, hence why Adams and Fury are dashing away from it. They leap the barricades and cry out towards Priest, who is currently fighting to power bomb Pearson down to the mats…but it’s a losing effort. Kathryn puts palms to the top of Priest’s head and pushes herself up and onto his shoulders, leaping off and back to the apron just in time to bend forward and catch the ribs of an inbound Brandy.
Danielle staggers back, clasping at her abdomen, while Kathryn is standing up and stretching a hand for the tag…one that is made by Knight.
Kozlov: Here come three more individuals who have lost all semblance of sanity, if they believe, like Unity, that they can bring any sort of honor to this business.
Comeau: I don’t think it’s honor that brings them to the ring, it’s revenge against the End Effect, who are wisely high tailing it.
Though he wants to stay behind and put up a fight, Priest responds to the pleas of his cohorts, stepping over the barricade and leaving alongside Adams and Fury. Predictably Matt, Nathan and Brooklyn jump over the barriers and give pursuit, insisting that these three End Effect members play no further role in the action, and perhaps derailing the momentum of their cohorts just enough to thwart their tag title ambitions.
And that’s precisely what seems to be happening as Pearson jumps over the ropes, but maintains a grip on the top cable, while her legs extend and fall over Brandy’s shoulders. Just then Rain comes racing across the apron to knock her hands away from the top rope but Kathryn releases it of her own volition, in order to swing around into a head scissors…a move that sends Danielle flying shoulder first through the cables and into Rain’s ribs. The masked man is sent flying off the apron and eventually splashing across the mats….while Brandy is sent staggering back into the clutches of Pearson, who drags her down into the Russian Leg Sweep at the same time that Knight darts in and connects with a running STO.
Pearson uses the momentum of the high impact stereo move to float over into a lateral press, ending with forearm wedged to face and leg hooked.
Kozlov: Devastating offense….
Comeau: Oh yes…a nice double impact that could lead to a tag title shot.
1
2
Nope….they won’t get that title shot just yet….because Brandy gets a shoulder up and gets herself back into this match. She turns away from Pearson, who grabs a bundle of her hair, uses it to whip her down face first into the canvas. The valley girl slams nose first against the ring then pops up to her knees just as Kathryn takes her around the neck, on the verge of delivering a snap DDT.
But the only thing that snaps is Brandy’s patience, leaping to her feet and turning the front chancery she’s trapped in to her advantage. She drops back into a bridging northern lights suplex.
1
A shoulder manages to find its way from the canvas, and it’s that arm that Brandy immediately clasps hold of, transitioning into the Anaconda Vice.
Comeau: But wait…looks like we could witness a submission victory for the End Effect…perhaps their momentum hasn’t been entirely derailed.
Cassidy is pouting at ringside, turning her head away from the match with her nose elevated to the rafters and her foot stomping against the mats. Brittany does a better job of hiding her contempt…showing no emotion, not even glee as Kathryn prepares to tap.
But instead of using her palm to slap the ring, she raises it into the jaw of Brandy, beginning to push back on her head with all her strength. It’s shoved back just far enough for Kathryn to be able to get her legs up, wrapping them around Danielle’s neck. She pulls her the rest of the way down to the canvas with a sleeper applied by her legs in lieu of arms.
The submission doesn’t stay applied for very long, because Brandy twists right over to her knees and then performs a head stand, before kipping up right out of the legs of Pearson back to her own feet. She then rushes across the ring and receives a blind tag by Rain upon ricocheting off.
Kathryn twists her body just in time to use those powerful legs to her aid, lifting feet into the air and wedging them into Brandy’s ribs. She monkey flips Danielle over into a monkey flip…though to the surprise of the collective crowd, Danielle lands right on her feet…and to even greater shock….Yvonne instantly catches her across the chest and heaves her up into the urange back breaker.
Comeau: Oh….
Kozlov: I hope you weren’t about to imply that the last move was brutal.
Comeau: No…not at all….Just ummm….burnt my tongue on the coffee again.
Kozlov: I would suggest putting your Kurig on a lower heat setting then.
Comeau: Speaking of heat…this match is really heating up at the moment now that Unity is back on the offense.
The spine bends at a very disturbing angle over Yvonne’s knee and Brandy ricochets off to the canvas below. Rain then tries his hand at besting Unity, sliding into the ring, rushing at the laid out Pearson, who manages to get both feet up for another monkey….no….Rain catches her boots mere inches removed from his ribs and then uses them to push her over backwards.
Kathryn ends up on her feet right in front of her tag team partner, who puts a shoulder to Pearson’s back and elevates her into the air in back drop position. But she only puts Kathryn in this predicament so she can get her feet up right into the inbound face of Rain. He stumbles back grabbing at his mouth just as Pearson flips back over her partner’s shoulder, landing on her feet behind Knight then shoving her forward.
Yvonne slips right around Rain’s side and wraps arms about his waist. Like a well oiled machine, all the parts work in perfect unity….pun intended…Kathryn steps in and nails Rain to the jaw with a super kick just as Yvonne snaps back into a release German suplex.
The back of the masked athlete’s head connects with the canvas while his eyes roll back as well.
Comeau: Unity just displaying what makes them perhaps the most deserving of teams when it comes to a possible bid for the championships.
At the behest of official Wright, Knight begins to vacate the ring, but the referee will believe it when he sees it. He follows Ivy right into her corner but behind him, Lohan is at last acting instead of sitting, mostly because the chair she was seated on has now founds its way into her clutches and is being introduced into this match. She places it on the apron right in front of a kneeling Brandy, slapping it a few times in order to get her attention.
Within the ring Kathryn is scrambling into a cover on Rain, hooking his leg and possibly securing her team a shot at the championships. The official at last turns away from Knight, though who would blame him if he wanted to spend all day long just staring at her, then drops to the canvas to do his job…which doesn’t involve ogling the female roster.
1
2
Comeau: Unity about to clinch a Tag Title shot….
No they aren’t….thanks in no small part to the chair swung by Brandy, straight into the upper back of Pearson…breaking up the pin attempt to unanimous disgust from the crowd and amusement from Dark Legacy.
Kozlov: You were idle speculating?
Comeau: Guess so…wait…actually NO…cause Unity HAS just won this match via disqualification.
The official is indeed calling for the bell, which chimes repeatedly in the background to a continuous chorus of jeers from the masses. As a result of the flagrant chair shot, right in front of Wright’s eyes, the match is thrown out.
That’s just as the chair is tossed to the canvas by Brandy, who is shouting at Pearson to get up…not through punishing her by a long shot.
Comeau: Almost looks to me like the End Effect didn’t desire a win here in the first place. They just want to make a statement.
Kozlov: And a major one at that.
Before further damage can be done to her partner, Knight races in, kicks aside the chair to make sure it plays no further role in this match then grabs Brandy by the hair. She spins her around into a front chancery, about to drop back into a DDT only to have Danielle’s ankles snatched hold of by her partner.
Rain drags Brandy out of Ivy’s clutches and down to the canvas, pulling his partner to the exterior of the ring. The two then lean heavily upon one another as they back up the ramp, nursing various wounds resulting in this highly physical bout.
The bell continues to ring in the background in confirmation of this disqualification.
Thomas: Lady and gentlefolk, referee decide that due to use of chair, End Effect be disqualified, and Unity new number one contender for Tag Team….
Lohan: Hold it….
The microphone is taken right out of Thomas’ hand in order for Lohan to get something off her chest….again airing her grievances.
Lohan: So you two CLAIM that you’re about honor…that you’re about fair play and doing things by the book? The way I see it, you’re nothing but hypocrites….cause you just allowed yourselves to become number one contenders based on a disqualification. So I ask, why should Taylor Chase put any stock in the two of you to make her a ‘better’ person, when you’re nothing more than a couple of lying manipulators?
Obviously the crowd and Unity, don’t agree.
Lohan: And why should she want to team with two ladies who don’t have the talent to get the job done, and instead have to stoop to disqualifications in order to get the job done?
Once again a point that Unity is NOT on board with,.
Lohan: No…Taylor should want nothing to do with you talent less liars….At least with Dark Legacy she knows exactly what she’s getting…As we are totally genuine and up front…plus Cassidy here…my pupil…is about to show why we’re obviously the more talented of Chase’s options. So why don’t you two exit the ring, and set up shop here at ringside, so you…just like Taylor, can be reminded why the Dark Legacy is so dangerous, and just the type of threat she NEEDS to stand at her side.
Though they can argue with everything uttered by Lohan, they don’t disagree with renting property at ringside in order to watch Cassidy compete. Haze is in preparation for her match and getting another earful from Lohan, as she builds her up by at first tearing her down.
Kozlov: Another match…now? Should be more interesting if this twisted young woman competes.
Comeau: Which is exactly what Haze is on the verge of doing, all under the watchful eyes of Unity. She’s set to go at it with Simon Cagero here this evening in what has now become a major statement making match.
GO AHEAD, SILENCE ME
The reception is off the chain, off the hook, and off the charts…exactly what you would expect when the crowd gets an eyeful of Simon Cagero…Though Simon is not the only one who gets that adrenaline surge from this reception, as the crowd’s reaction causes Lois Prince’s heart to flutter. She steps to the stage behind Simon looking a bit nervous but Cagero inspires her to overcome that knot in her gut and show some confidence by doing a little twirl to the crowd’s delight. The two then proceed towards the ring with Simon continuing to show Lois how it’s done, how to entertain the masses. She gives a few high fives to the fans on one side of the ramp, while Cagero slaps outstretched hands on the opposite side.
Comeau: Is it just me, or does Simon’s little bitty here look just like Taylor Cha….?
Kozlov: Just you. No one can match the unparallel beauty of our World Heavyweight Champion. A face so enchanting perhaps I might spare it should our paths one day intersect.
Lois doesn’t go as far as entering the ring with Simon, who slips through the ropes and further hypes up the crowd through a few muscle flexes…which seem more aimed that giving Lois a few twinges south of her Mason Dixon Line.
The bell chimes and Cassidy skips back and forth in front of Simon in a childish, yet disturbing fashion. She pauses only briefly to turn towards Knight and Pearson now seated in the chairs she and Lohan once occupied, watching this confrontation closely. A kiss is blown in the direction of Unity, but then a fist is thrown into the face of Cagero.
Simon staggers back from the shot and then slowly lifts a hand to his cheek, rubbing the flesh. Attention returns to the smirking Haze, who winks and waves playfully to her opponent.
Haze: That was just a love tap, Pooh-Bear.
Simon: Don’t worry, Cassidy, I forgive you…Because the bible teaches us forgiveness.
He glances over his shoulder at Lois, giving her a wink and waiting for some reassurance. Though a member of the KKK, she’s not quite the bible thumper her colleagues are, Simon having misjudged her a little. Nevertheless, she gives a thumbs up to Cagero, who drops to a knee and pantomimes a cross over his chest and stomach. He then puts his palms together in a prayer….but Haze steps in with fist cocked back.
Simon: I’m praying bitch…FUCK OFF!
Cassidy yelps and leaps back as she’s shouted at by the agitated Cagero, who feigns guidance from the lord. This only goes on for so long before Haze stops playing along and starts playing the type of game she enjoys. Sacrilegious as it may be, Cassidy falls to her stomach and begins to slither like a snake towards Simon, trying to tempt him in true serpentine fashion. Hands extend and slip into Simon’s hair, beginning to tussle it before Cagero grabs her wrist, stands up and swings around under it, applying an arm ringer.
Simon: Sorry Babe, I don’t deal in whores.
Haze: But Mary Magdalene was a whore.
Simon: Hmmm, true….Okay then, I don’t deal in goth chicks, just not my thing.
Cassidy drops onto the top of her head and kips up to her feet before spinning around to face Simon and then dropping down into a baseball slide through his legs. She stands up right behind a stooped forward Cagero, who is reaching through his legs to get hold of her, and then grabs him around the neck, applying the side headlock.
Haze then transitions from headlock into front chancery, putting a bit more sting on the submission.
Haze: What are YOU into, Pudding Pie? I bet I can find out…
Before Cassidy can find a way to enchant Simon and as thus get him to lower his guard, Cagero stands up straight, hoists her up into the air and then throws her off the front chancery. From a tremendous height Cassidy comes crashing down face first into the canvas. The moment her skull nails canvas, Cagero steps in, takes her around the wrist, swings under it and applies another arm ringer.
The hold is used to drag Haze to her feet and then into a short arm clothesline, putting her to the canvas. Simon falls to the ring as well, of his own volition, so that she can roll to the outside and grab another wrist, belonging to Lois. He drags her towards the barricade, reaches over, grabs a I-phone from the hand of a fan, and then pulls Lois into his side so that the two can pose for a picture with the screaming fan. Lois cannot help but to blush and smile as her picture is taken and the fan screams into her ear. The I-Phone is then handed back to the excited fan wearing an obnoxiously bright Porno Lad shirt.
Simon even goes as far as to tell an excited Lois to high five the fan, which she does. Cagero then heads back to the ring, climbing to the apron just as Cassidy bolts across the ring into a shoulder block right to the ribs. Haze staggers back, clutching at her ribs just as Simon begins to slide through the ropes to take advantage. Though Cassidy counters, stepping to Simon’s side, then lunging into a knee strike to his face.
Simon is sent twisting to the canvas, grabbing at his skull while Cassidy slaps her knee a few times then points down at Unity, implying that’s just what they’re in store for. Neither Kathryn nor Yvonne are threatened by this gesture.
Comeau: Haze takes the advantage thanks to all of Cagero’s playing to the crowd, or more accurately, his playing to that little strumpet he brought out here with him.
Kozlov: If there’s anything worse than the sanctimonious do gooders seated at ringside, it’s a bible roller with a body built for sin.
Outside the ring Lois looks a bit distressed, swept up and captivated by this action, inside of the ring, Simon is more than a bit distressed, ailing and aching as a result of the action. He begins to stand up when Cassidy rushes in beside him and delivers a forearm to his temple.
The shot sends Simon staggering towards the turnbuckle, falling against it before Cassidy lunges into a spear to his ribs. She then steps back and charges into another lung blowing spear. She then stands up and gets a running start behind a back elbow to the teeth, rattling them so.
Cassidy runs to the center of the ring, spins around, charges forward and leaps into a diving forearm to the face. She drops into a backwards roll to the middle of the squared circle and rushes in with another forearm. Just before it connects Simon bends down, catches her knees to his shoulder and back drops her over the ropes.
Haze grabs the top rope as she goes sailing over, landing on the apron feet first and waiting for Simon to face her. The moment he does, Cassidy delivers a forearm to his face, once again staggering the number one contender. Cassidy then rushes across the apron and begins to scale the turnbuckle, reaching the very top rope. Anticipation builds for the next move…Simon turning just in time for Cassidy to come flying across the ring into a diving forearm to the forehead.
Simon feels an unfamiliar sensation, his back on the canvas, and his head splitting form a migraine. Cassidy feels an unfamiliar sensation, that feeling of joy as she skips around her laid out victim, tussling her hair all the while.
Kozlov: What a wiry little harbinger of mayhem.
Comeau: Is that your idea of a term of endearment?
Kozlov: I fail to see what’s wrong with it.
Haze stops showing off and starts speaking in tongues once again.
Haze: How’d all that prayer work out for you?
Simon: You tell me.
A leg launches into the air and connects right to the side of Cassidy’s face, shutting her up and sending her spiraling into the center of the ring. She steadies herself and then moves towards the rising Cagero, launching a kick into his face that is caught. Cagero then pulls her down to the canvas with the dragon screw leg whip..
Cassidy clutches at her knee while rolling across the ring, but eventually fights through the pain in her leg to get it under her. She stands up straight and charges at a rising Simon, throwing another forearm that Cagero not only ducks but manages to catch, delivering an arm drag. Cassidy flips over and once again slams against the canvas. Ultimately she rolls over to her knees and scrambles back to her feet, charging in for another forearm that Simon counters via catching the knees of his opponent to his shoulder and back dropping her through the air. But Cassidy reverses in mid-air, twisting and landing on her feet before falling back first against the turnbuckle.
Simon then comes rushing in and eats a big boot to the mouth, at long last shutting him up while sending Cagero stumbling to the middle of the ring. He falls to a knee while Cassidy rises to the top rope. Once in place she comes diving off into a flying forearm strike that Simon manages to avoid via dropping to a crawling base, causing Cassidy to flying right over top of him. She crashes into the canvas, rolls across it, and ends up on her feet. She then rushes right at Cagero, who stands up just in time to launch her into the air with a gigantic back drop.
Cassidy catches significant height, almost reaching the nose bleed section, before her kidneys ultimately implode upon impact with the canvas.
Comeau: And Simon has retaken control of this match….Maybe I should try praying.
Kozlov: I don’t think heavenly bodies can help you. Some people just need to accept that there is no such thing as salvation.
The look in Lohan’s eyes is not a pleasant one….getting a bit aggravated by Simon’s persistence and Haze’s inability to get the advantage on him.
The look in Lois’ eyes is a pleasant one…getting more and more excited with Simons persistence and ability to get the advantage on his opponent.
The look in Unity’s eyes is a happy one…getting a bit of pleasure out of watching Simon persistently thwart his opponent.
Cassidy takes a fortuitous role into the ropes, employing them to reach her feet while Cagero swoops in behind her. He grabs the shoulders of his opponent, and looks to put himself in the driver’s seat, only to put himself in adult depends, thanks to the mule kick to the testicles. Cassidy delivers the move right when the official was out of position to see it, causing her move to go unnoticed.
The number one contender staggers back, hands cupping his head, the one south of his belt…but they soon find their way to the head on top of his shoulders, because Haze turns, lunges in and nails him directly to the jaw with a super kick that puts him on his back., Cassidy then throws herself over the laid out Simon’s chest much to the alarm of Lois at ringside.
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The official’s hand doesn’t meet the canvas for the three because Simon manages to get a shoulder up..
Comeau: VERY close near-fall there by Cassidy….
Kozlov: After she did all it took., Notice that she’s using all the tactics that Unity stands in opposition to…showing how mistaken they are about fair play and all that other garbage. Dark Legacy is showing Taylor Chase that THIS is how you get things done around here.
To further demonstrate this point, Lohan has hold of the very same chair that played a crucial role in the outcome of the last match, putting it on the apron then sliding it under the ropes.
Kozlov: And now we’re about to witness the ultimate demonstration of what happens when you stop arbitrarily following rules and start taking a more proactive approach to victory.
Comeau: The chair coming into play again…Lohan on the verge of influencing two straight matches.
Finally the chair is noticed by Haze, thanks to the cries of Lohan. Her palm slaps the steel several times, implying that it MUST be used on Simon….that it MUST be used to destroy the number one contender for the World Heavyweight Championship.
Lohan: Do it for Taylor….Show her that we will sacrifice for her.
It doesn’t take very much to convince Haze to bash in Simon’s skull with the chair. She eagerly approaches it while the referee is surveying the damage done to Cagero, making sure he doesn’t require emergency aid. Just as Cassidy is about to grab hold of the chair, it’s taken right out of play. In a split instant, Kathryn has slid into the ring, rushed across it, grabbed the weapon and is rolling back out.
Comeau: Pearson grabbing the chair, keeping Lohan and Haze from ruining yet another match and laying to waste the number one contender for Taylor’s World Championship.
Kozlov: Stupid woman. Doesn’t she realize that Dark Legacy was about to take out the number one contender for Chase’s championship?
Haze has no issue wearing her rage on her sleeve…even though her attire has NO sleeves…but Lohan is a different story, it takes a lot to get her upset…which means Kathryn really must have pissed her off given the burning hatred inhabiting her eyes. Those same fiery blue eyes close in upon Pearson, who has handed the chair to a lucky fan in the front row….unaware that Lohan is inching towards her.
The squeals and screeches of the crowd prompts Kathryn to turn with fists clinched and raised to the inbound Lohan. The number one contender for the N.H.B Championship stops…but not just because of the threat that Pearson poses…It’s because Knight has stepped up behind her partner, giving them a two on one advantage. Lohan doesn’t like to play the odds, so she remains affixed to her spot, eyeballing the members of Unity, who stand as one opposed to the deceitful tactics of Dark Legacy.
Casssidy extends head through ropes, shouting down at Unity, threatening them with vile rhetoric. Once giving them a verbal chewing, she turns and finds herself literally chewing canvas when Simon kips up to his feet, catches her around the neck then delivers the Break the Silence.
Haze stands on top of her face, bending her neck at a very awkward angle, and then bounces off and lands on her back. Before going for the pin, Simon gets to his knees and mouths a quick prayer to the heavenly bodies then scrambles into the pin.
Comeau: And the distraction has cost Haze dearly….
Kozlov: I stand corrected. There is something worse than a holy roller…it’s a faux pas holy roller, the likes of Cagero here.
Comeau: Well that faux pas holy roller looks on the verge of picking up a major win.
Into the cover slides Cagero, both legs hooked on Cassidy and the crowd hooked on every slap of the canvas.
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3
A disgruntled Lohan watches on…a delighted Unity watches on…and an elated Lois watches on….a variety of reactions resulting from this huge win by Simon. The victor has already rolled to the exterior of the ring where he meets up with Lois, lifting his hands into the air and getting a double high five. He then sticks his hand out and waits till Prince puts a palm on the back of it.
Simon: On the count of three, go Christ….One…two….three…GOOOOO CHRIST!
Lois isn’t quite as enthusiastic about it, but goes through with the celebratory chant nevertheless.
Comeau: Momentum boosting win for Simon headed into the End of the Year Celebration and an eventual showdown with Taylor Chase for the World Heavyweight Championship.
Kozlov: Guess that five on five tag at this End of the Year Spectacle has just turned in Simon’s favor. See Unity’s do gooding has led to the ruination of our esteemed World Champion.
The celebration proceeds from Cagero and Lois on their way to the backstage area, but Unity is not observing the winner, instead they’re focus is upon the aggravated Lohan. She is presently in the ring tending to her student, helping Cassidy up to her seat.
Comeau: Don’t think this loss is gonna reflect very well in the eyes of the World Champion, that has GOT to be on the mind of Lohan right now.
Montgomery: Come on….get up…..You’re pathetic!
Into the wall goes the head of Malachi Hunt, bouncing off and leaving a huge crack in the plaster. He gets to crawling base as Lukas rushes in beside him delivering a thunderous kick directly to his ribs. The shot sends Hunt flipping over to his back, grabbing at his mid-section and possibly gripping some fractured ribs. Lukas descends to his knees, throwing right hand after right hand into his forehead.
Montgomery: You don’t touch another man’s property? You hear me!?!
Hands wrap around the busted open skull of Hunt, leading him along to his feet and then head first into a steel crate positioned a few inches away. The laceration on his scalp is widened upon collision with the corner of the crate. Once more Malachi meets the floor, and its not a chance encounter. Lukas leads him along to his feet and down the corridor.
Montgomery: She’s mine…you hear me…she’s mine. You’ll get about as close to her, as you’ll get to the Blacklist’s Evolution Championship.
Hunt’s face is dragged across the catering table, knocking multiple objects off of it. In the process though, a can of Redi-Whip has found its way into Hunt’s hand. Before Lukas knows what hit him, the can is swung right into his temple, sending Lukas staggering down the corridor.
Kozlov:: Ah…an enjoyable aspect of tonight’s show….unprovoked violence.
Comeau: Malachi Hunt and Lukas Montgomery battling it out for God only knows what reason.
Kozlov: You need no motivation when you’re the Blacklist.
The brawl wages on and like a tornado they leave a path of debris in their wake. All the condiments on the table are now strewn across the floor, transforming the corridor into an absolute mess.
Mayne: Seriously?
In a blue janitorial uniform steps Billy, pushing along a mop in a soapy bucket.
Mayne: I just cleaned this damn floor.
An aggravated Billy pulls out the mop and begins to push around the plates and mustard bottles strewn across the floor. Clearly his inability to control Mr. Gaunt and Legion has led to a demotion in much the same fashion as Laymon.
A pouting Cassidy sits in the locker-room with face submerged in her palm. It’s obvious that she’s rather down on herself after that loss to Simon, and her inability to vanquish the future challenger for the World Heavyweight Championship. Her dismay is only exacerbated by the pacing Lohan, currently mumbling what sounds like mere gibberish beneath her breath.
Haze: I can’t tell you how sorry I am.
Lohan: I’m not happy, but I can’t blame you for what happened out there. Fault lies with Unity.
In spite of her words…which were designed to be comforting…Brittany still cannot put her troubled student at ease.
Haze: I had him….
Lohan: I know…..I know…and if it weren’t for Unity going out of their way to undermine us Cagero would be lying a pile of broken bones barely held together by tattered flesh….BUT we’ll make up for this loss at the End of the Year Celebration. We’ll show Taylor Chase that OUR way is the one true way…and we’ll do it by turning Unity into….
Are you sure that’s the best way to get through to Mrs. Chase?
Instantly Lohan’s spine stiffens and Cassidy retracts her hand from her face, looking up wide eyed at Mary Mallory, Brittany’s mentor. She stands in the doorway to the locker-room, leaning shoulder first against the doorframe.
Mary: Lohan, Haze, I’m afraid I could no longer sit and watch in silence.
Lohan: Mary….it’s good to see you finally willing to make an appearance….
Mary: Not because I WANT to….unfortunately I HAVE to.
Mallory steps into the room, unflinching when faced with the dangerously unpredictable and imposing tandem of Lohan and Haze. She does not refrain from speaking with a vile tone to either woman, who has evidently let her down.
Mary: The way you two have gone about business of late is unacceptable. Evidently you need a guiding hand. So I have decided to step up my influence….
Lohan: We appreci…
Mary: Don’t say another word to me, my blue eyed demon…I thought I taught you better….that you were a bit more adept at getting the job done.
Lohan: If it weren’t for Unity….
Mary: I don’t want to hear anything about Knight or Pearson…you have only yourselves to blame for your failures. And you want to know why you fail? Because you’re taking the wrong approach to trying to win over Chase. You need to exploit some different tactics.
Lohan falls into the chair beside Haze, the two becoming a captivated audience.
Mary: You want Taylor’s loyalty? You use what means more to her than anything….
Lohan: And that is?
Mary: You had BETTER know the answer to that question already.
Just before we can find out what Mary was eluding to, cameras quickly cut to the backstage area just behind the curtains where several members of security are desperately trying to separate Hunt and Montgomery. Fists fly between both men, and not only into one another’s faces, but into the faces of all those security guards gathered around, swatting them aside.
Comeau: Seems like nothing is gonna keep these two apart. But I have no idea what has inspired this brawl between them.
Kozlov: Violence for the sake of violence, that is the Blacklist’s M.O.
The distraction by security proves devastating for Hunt, dropping his guard long enough for Montgomery to snatch hold of a light pile and drive the stand into his ribs. Hunt doubles over and then the pole rams into his upper back. Hunt falls to his knees but isn’t permitted to stay down for long, Lukas grabbing him by the hair, charging him at the curtains and throwing him through.
The stage now becomes the playground for the Blacklist. Malachi spills through the curtains to the steel grating, rolling across it and ending up at the top of the ramp. Lukas not only follows him to the stage, but dashes across it and delivers a punt to Hunt’s face.
The kick sends Kentucky Death rolling down the ramp and towards the ring.
Comeau: Here they come.
Kozlov: Only a matter of time before we became front row observers to this binge of chaos.
Comeau: Like we haven’t seen enough already.
Kozlov: No…you haven’t.
Comeau: Could definitely use more chaos.
Hunt is dragged up to his feet and thrown by the back of his skull into the steel stairs. A blood soaked Malachi is further lacerated by this face first collision with the steps. He bounces off and to the mats he falls with Lukas descending upon him. He drops down on top of Hunt’s chest and begins to drive fist after fist into his forehead, opening the gash in his forehead wider with each shot…More blood pumps through the ripped skin until Hunt’s face is the proverbial crimson mask.
Comeau: Now Montgomery is just outright destroying Hunt….but again, I have to ask wh….
Kozlov: No you don’t.
Comeau: You’re totally right.
The bloodied Kentucky Death tries to get up and crawl towards the steps, but only because Lukas is letting it happen. He then kicks away the top layer of stairs to expose the lower half…a lower half that Hunt drops across. He falls over the bottom section of the steps and TRIES to get back up only to have Lukas lift the incredibly heavy upper layer of stairs into the air and drop it down across his skull. Hunt’s head is crushed between both halves of the steps and now his body is reduced to nothing more than a quivering mess.
Comeau: Good God, as if what we saw happen to Susie wasn’t….
Kozlov: That was a mere appetizer…THIS is the main course….and just you wait for desert.
A blood soaked Hunt is rolled into the ring, ending up stretched across his back barely even possessing the strength to breath. Instead of following his victim, Lukas moves around the ring and grabs a microphone right out of Tommy Boll’s hand.
Montgomery: Ladies and gentlemen, my challenger this evening for the Evolution Championship….Malachi Hunt!
The fans would normally be enthusiastic over an impromptu title bout, but rejoice in the same way they would a funeral when it regards this particular match.
Comeau: Are you….
Kozlov: No…this isn’t a joke…It’s penance.
Down the ramp hustles referee Blacker…who has no trouble at all when it comes to officiating a blood letting. She slides into the ring, looking quite eager to referee this massacre. Montgomery methodically enters the ring and waits for Hunt to stand up,…which he cannot do.
Kentucky Death TRIES to stand but doesn’t get very far, falling back to his stomach several times as the blood on his face begins to clot. He tries to stand up once again only to get about a fraction of the way up to his feet. Montgomery has done enough waiting, swooping in, grabbing Hunt around the thigh, dragging his head under his seat, and then heaving him up into the cradle piledriver.
Hunt’s skull takes a dangerous collision with the canvas, twisting his neck at a disturbing angle.
Comeau: He broke his neck…Hunt’s neck is BROKEN!
Kozlov: How fortunate for Hunt.
Comeau: Fortunate?
Kozlov: He’s getting off with a light sentence.
Montgomery ascends back to his feet with his pants and shirt stained by Hunt’s blood. He then removes his t-shirt, balls it up and throws it down on the mangled body of his opponent. He steps in, takes Hunt around the neck, drags him in and heaves him up into a second cradle piledriver, dangerously dumping his already busted open head to the canvas.
Hunt bounces off and collapses to the canvas, leaving a giant puddle of crimson across the ring. The only area of his face still white, are his eyes, which have rolled to the back of his skull. Montgomery then steps in, takes him around the neck, rolls him over to his knees and pulls him into ANOTHER cradle piledriver.
Kozlov: I think he requires one more, Lukas….Perhaps with a bit more zealous.
Comeau: I hate to disagree.
Kozlov: Then don’t.
Comeau: Alright, I won’t.
The bloodied Hunt is not putting up the type of fight the fans want to see out of a challenger for the N.H.B Championship, unable to stand let alone throw a single punch in his own defense. Lukas rolls to the outside, grabs the bottom section of the steps, drags them up and slides them into the ring under the ropes. He follows them in but instead of descending upon the stairs, he descends upon the blood soaked Hunt, taking him around the jaw, leading his head under his seat and taking him around the thigh with both arms.
Kozlov: Things about to get far entertaining.
Comeau opts wisely not to speak up as Hunt…unable to move a single muscle voluntarily, is pulled over the steps by Lukas. He stands on top of the steel and then heaves Hunt into the air amidst pleas and screeches from the crowd. In spite of all the begging in the world, Montgomery dumps Kentucky Death right on top of the steps via a cradle piledriver.
Comeau: Ohhhhh….
Kozlov: Goodnight Mr. Hunt….we barely knew thee.
Now Malachi seems to be choking on his tongue which he may have bitten off after the piledriver on the steps. Blacker is fanning herself off in the background, on the verge of running backstage and finding a private stall to administer some self pleasure. Before she can do that she has to make the count, which is presently expected of her. Montgomery falls across Hunt’s chest and hooks the leg.
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3
As if there was ever any doubt, the pinfall academic, and the Evolution Championship staying exactly where it started this evening…in the clutches of the Blacklist.
Kozlov: Another hard fought successful title defense by the Blacklist.
Comeau: And another body added to the list of casualties here this evening.
Kozlov: People who all had it coming.
Montgomery slowly works his way to his feet examining the blood that has collected in his palms. To a knee he drops before using his palm to slap one of Hunt’s cheeks, then the back of his knuckles connect with the other cheek. Malachi doesn’t even respond to this unnecessary addition of insult to injury.
Montgomery: Maybe you’ll learn to respect another man’s property.
Hunt has learned nothing mostly because so many of his brain cells have been killed by the piledrivers, most notably the one on the stairs. He’s left a blood drenched wreck on the canvas, his body broken, skull split, and every muscle enflamed by pain.
The crowd couldn’t be any happier to see Porno Lad…in spite of the fact that he’s currently in a heated argument with the co-holder of the Tag Team Titles….TPKid.
TPKid: Seriously man. I spent an hour getting my hair curled…And the fumes are giving me such a headache.
Porno Lad: I’ll get to the bottom of this, chill it out, bro-man.
BMW: Stop telling him to chill out….after everything we’ve done for you…you can’t expect us to take this lying down.
Porno Lad: Oh how I’d enjoy giving you something laying down.
<BMW: What?
Porno Lad: Sorry….sorry….that was the OLD Porno Lad…Not getting back into my bad habits.
BMW: The only thing you need to be worried about getting back, is that Tag Team Title belt for our boy here.
A hand pats the shoulder of TPKid, who is more than willing to let BMW fight this battle for him.
Porno Lad: I’ll take care of it, I promise.
Porno Lad proceeds towards the dressing room of Adam Chase and company. The progression towards the door and towards a resolution regarding this Tag Title situation is halted when he finds himself standing face to face with Katelyn Buehler…currently on her way to the ring to face off with Legion.
Porno Lad: Katelyn….been looking everywhere for you, Babe.
Katelyn; Here I am.
He has her ear.
Porno Lad: We seriously need to have a talk about….tonight.
Now he has her intrigue.
Katelyn: Oh?
Porno Lad: This whole match with TPKid and I teaming up to take on the Blacklist three on two…and YOU versus LEGION….well….
One can see that the stress in his face and the distress in his eyes. There’s just lots of stress, truck loads of stress….stress that is relieved like an overfilled bladder but not to the same amount of gratification.
Porno Lad: It’s just AWESOME….SUPER-MEGA-MIND-BLOWING AWESOME.
He’s so elated he could dance on the ceiling, if he hadn’t injured himself severely trying to do that in his teens.
Porno Lad: I’m just astonished by how synchronized the two of us are. Without even discussing it before hand we managed to weave together the greatest plot ever…
Katelyn: Wait….what? You’re not even going to try and take the predictable route of talking me out of my challenge to Legion?
Porno Lad: No….were you gonna try to convince me not to face the Blacklist?
Katelyn: Actually, now that you mention it.
Porno Lad: Of course you’re not going to, because you realize that the stars have perfectly aligned, that the universe has provided….
Katelyn: Provided what?
Porno Lad: Don’t be so coy. We’ve got the chance to FINALLY fulfill what we started all those weeks ago when we called the face summit. A summit where we agreed to destroy the Blacklist and the Black Crusade.
Katelyn: And you think that’s why I challenged, Legion, tonight?
Porno Lad: Well…,that and to get revenge on what he did to me a few weeks ago when he power bombed my backside on the edge of an announce table.
Katelyn: This match isn’t about revenge, Ethan, its about my redemption…I have to show him that I’m not the same person who ran away screaming a few weeks ago….I have to show him that I’m….
Porno Lad: Yep-yep-yep, we’re so gonna fulfill our destinies tonight and take out both groups who have created so much chaos in the IWC. This just works out BEYOND perfect for everyone. Good thinking….
TPKid: IM SICK OF WAITING!
An impatient Kid storms right through Porno Lad and Buehler, further dividing them rather literally as opposed to the metaphorical gap that has been expanding between them. BMW nips at Kid’s heel as he doesn’t open the door, but kicks it ajar to find Adam Chase pacing in the locker-room, phone raised to his ear.
Chase: How bad is the concussion….?
The conversation trails off the moment Kid storms into the room and examines the chambers, searching for Gavin, or more accurately the Tag Team Title belt in his possession.
Chase: Hold please.
The phone is hung up and slid out of hand into pocket, while at the same time, a baseball bat finds its way into TPKid’s palm, placed there by the always so helpful BMW.
TPKid: You got about ten seconds to tell me where my Tag Team Title belt. is.
The bat stretches from Kid’s plam, to Chase’s chest, knocking the agent back a few steps.
Chase: I don’t need ten seconds to tell you to kiss my….
TPKid: FIVE seconds.
The bat knocks him back again.
Porno Lad: Calm down…this is NOT how a face behaves….
Try as he may, Porno Lad just cannot reach his partner.
Porno Lad: We don’t barge into the office of our rivals. What we do is go to the ring, make corny jokes at their expense, get them so upset they put us into a match where there are impossible odds to overcome and then we force like seven men to tap out simultaneously to a step over crossface….
TPKid: Was ANY of that supposed to make sense?
Chase: Okay…enough…before I lose anymore brain cells I’ll tell you what you want to know….But first, I need assurances that nothing is going to happen to my client.
Porno Lad: We just want to talk to Gavin…that’s all.
Chase: Fine, then the next place you’ll find him…
His watch is checked.
Chase: …is in the ring. He’s scheduled for another match against that Jack Sparrow wannabe.
TPKid: You had better not be lying to us to protect your boy…Chase.
Chase: I’m not, because Gavin is not a boy, he‘s a man, he can make his own decisions, and his own mistakes. You want him, go to the ring and have it out with him.
TPKid: Oh….we will….you best believe that.
Porno Lad: But don’t worry, they’ll be family friendly words.
TPKid: Nah-nah, nuh-uh, Ethan, BMW and I are taking care of this. You got enough to deal with.
Porno Lad is more than capable of multi-tasking, but doesn’t argue with his tag team partner.
Porno Lad: But I already did all my Make-A-Wish….
TPKid: NO…that other thing we were discussing earlier tonight, ya’knowm when it was announced that Buehler was facing Legion….Ya’ need to be well rested for that, Chief.
Porno Lad raises his voice only to have it silenced by the mute button that is Black Magic Woman.
BMW: We got this white boy. Back off and let us handle this business.
Adam is relieved to see them vacate his room, for the sake of his brain cells.
Chase: No…you’ll have more than words gentlemen.
In spite of his massive and imposing size Executioner squirms and squirms quite uncomfortably, especially as a set of hands slide onto his shoulders. It’s an odd feeling, the fear that grips a man who has spent his entire life watching others cower in terror before his immense proportions, now himself cowering thanks to the touch of a mere hundred pound woman.
Mika: Executioner….I don’t think we need to remind you how important your job is this evening.
Though griped with fear, Executioner was finally starting to follow along. That is until his thoughts become jumbled by an overwhelming sense of dread when Harrison stoops down at his side, speaking directly into his ear.
Harrison: We’re getting sick of failure, Executioner. We’ve seen Laymon and Mayne fail us already, and you saw what happened to them as a result. So if you value your job here in the IWC….no…wait…perhaps that doesn’t motivate you properly…
Mika: I don’t think it does, my Cowboy.
Harrison: Okay then…Executioner, if you can’t make Leeland play along in just a few moments, I’ll give Lukas and Mika another title defense tonight, and YOU’LL be their opponent.
Any other day of the week an Evolution Title shot would be the opportunity of a lifetime, but Executioner knows any time you step into the ring with any member of the Blacklist, it’s a punishment….even more severe than one of the capital variety.
Harrison: So when we go out there in just a few minutes, I expect to see Legion….And if I don’t….Well….I think you saw what my Mika did to Susie, and what Lukas did to Hunt…
The massaging of Executioner’s shoulders stop when Mika leans down to speak into his ear as well.
Mika: Don‘t make me lose my smile.
Sparkles: Its like Christmas has come early.
Greyson: Good lord…is this night EVER going to end? Oh, and thanks for not emphasizing the ‘cum‘ part of that statement.
Sparkles: I was going to but called an audible at the goal-line.
Now the purple robe is gone and a fuzzy fur coat hangs over the fuzzy fur puppet. A cane has been taped to his palm, and a gold tooth somehow has managed to sprout from his gums. Plus there is bling…so much bling….bling weighing more than his entire body. All that gold…or costume jewelry sparkles…no pun intended…under the lights of this standard interview area.
Sparkles: Well, the pimptacular one himself, is here to interview a lady who, if she plays her cards right, will become the newest member of my harem….
No cards are played by Amanda Blayze…
She steps forward only to answer questions and not to respond to the crass and disgusting overtones of the vulgar puppet.
Greyson: Before my colleague here says something that’ll be taken the wrong way.
Amanda: He hasn’t already?
Greyson: Oh…just give it time, wait till he brings up your Grandmother…Anyway, we want to congratulate you on your terrific match this evening against Ashley. The two of you really put on a show out there tonight.
A smile is actually brought to Amanda’s face as she relives that grueling one on one confrontation earlier tonight.
Amanda: Oh…well…thank you. It WAS a great match between Ashley and I, can‘t argue with that.
Sparkles: Could have used far more pins….long…sensual pins…..and would it have been too much to ask for a giant pool of chocolate pudding?
Amanda: And that’s exactly the type of chauvinistic mentality that Ashley and I went out there with the intention of overcoming.
Greyson: Is it safe to say that you developed a new found respect for the young….
Sparkles: Yet hopefully legal….
Greyson:….Mrs. Chase?
Amanda: Well…to be honest, before the match, I had this idea in my head that Ashley is a bit of a flake. She seems like the type of lady who relies on sex appeal to find success in this company as opposed to wrestling talent. She doesn’t seem to be the type who spends countless hours in the gym honing her skills to be a better athlete, instead spending countless hours picking just the right outfit that will make her oh so ‘cute.’ But I’m very glad to see just how wrong I was. Because tonight, Ashley showed me she wasn’t just a fashion template…she wasn’t just a flake….that she was an athlete of the highest caliber.
Sparkles: Can’t she be an athlete of the highest caliber and still wear really cute tight fitting jeans?
Amanda: Ya know what….on that note, I think this interview is over…
Blayze departs much to the delight of Sparkles, who hates to see her go, but loves to watch her leave. Another individual who is equally as captivated by her departure, happens to be one Cassidy Haze who was seated in a chair a few feet away, acting like she was texting on her phone as opposed to using the voice recorder to capture every word uttered by Blayze.
“I shut my eye and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again.”
A blinking eye, on the Carteltron, opens and closes, red veins coursing through it and touching the edges of the pupil. But not just a traditional pupil…nothing in the IWC can be traditional of course. For encased within said pupil is a clock…the hour and the minute hand moving backwards slowly at first, before speeding up, getting faster and faster until they both stop on midnight.
“Good Man” by Devour the Day plays through the speakers coinciding with the dimming of the lights. A spotlight shines on the stage, bringing out the contours of two bodies, one belonging to Robin Brooks, with her hair matted and her dress tattered, The other frame is that of Hurse’s body kneeling on the stage, head lowered and clinched fists extended out to his sides. The second the emo-screaming portion of the song kicks in, Hurse slaps the stage with both palms, leaps to his feet and kicks his head back to reveal the patch over his right eye and the look of intensity on his face….an expression so intense one would think he just devoured an entire box of fiber flakes…he rushes down the ramp, slides across his stomach and ends up on his knee, sliding his fist across the apron at his side then throwing it up high above his head.
Brooks stops at ringside and leans casually back first against the apron, propping herself against it while setting her sights on the stage, anticipating the arrival of whomever is willing to risk ocular injury via facing off with her lover.
Comeau: I can so feel a sexual harassment lawsuit coming on, thank you very much Sparkles.
Kozlov: At least the puppet doesn’t require several twelve packs of beer to gain the courage necessary to talk to woman.
Comeau: Actually now I’m drinking Listerene, gives my mouth that smooth minty taste and a nice buzz. And this building is all abuzz at the moment as Hurse makes his entrance, moments from beginning from what we understand, is a campaign to purge the roster of anyone associated with the Chase family.
Kozlov: How quant.
Comeau: Unfortunately for Hurse, his mission begins with a man riding a tidal wave of momentum after winning the Tag Team Titles earlier tonight.
Robin continues to watch on and offer some inspiring words to a kneeling Hurse in the corner of the ring. He keeps his forehead wedged to the middle turnbuckle pad and barely even acknowledges the change in the intro track.
The lights around the arena begin to flicker as “Whoa Is Me” by Down With Webster starts to play over the arena.
Whoa is me
I’m so whoa
See me decked out from my head to my toe
Whoa is me
I’m so whoa
Everywhere I go I’m a one man show
And the song continues…
Alongside the entrance ramp, an all-black Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren, top down, is driven out. The crowd boos as “All Star” Gavin Taylor steps out from the drivers’ side of the car. As he pulls himself onto the hood of the car, posing with his arms outstretched, the chorus of the song plays.
Say whoa (whoa)
The more I feel it whoa (whoa)
The more I need it whoa (whoa)
You say whoa
Whoa is me
I’m so whoa
Gavin hops off the hood of the car and gets to the ramp itself, walking down towards the ramp with swagger. He smirks as he gets to the ring. Pulling himself to the apron, he hangs out off the ring while holding onto the top rope.
The song continues…
I cheated to get what I got
Stepped all over you self for my spot
I bet you I’m winning, I bet that you’re not
I bet you don’t see me, I bet you get caught
Gavin pulls himself through the ropes and steps onto the second ropes on the opposite side of the ring from the ramp. He opens his jersey, sliding it off his shoulders as he stretches his arms out.
Turning around, he bounces back off the ropes as he watches for his opponent.
The coveted Tag Team Championship is placed in the corner of the ring and presumably out of harm’s way.
Comeau: Gavin FINALLY a Champion here in the IWC….Feeling that he was owed a belt after all the sacrifices he’s made on behalf of others….Beginning with agreeing to take it easy on Frankie Paradise at Awakening, which cost him the World Championship….then he let the Evolution Title slip through his fingers a few weeks ago….and at Awakening, he pretty much laid down for Yvonne Knight so he and Adam Chase could set up Tabitha Silverstone.
Kozlov: Hard to be an All Star when you’re constantly sacrificing yourself for others. Eventually you’ve got to hog the ball and take the shot yourself.
Gavin finally turns away from the Tag belt, turning right into a knife edge chop across the sternum. A man full of righteous indignation swarms Gavin like a pestilence of flies. He has him staggered back into the very turnbuckle where the tag belt is situated. A right hand clocks him to the jaw, Hurse intentionally employing a closed fist. He then drags Taylor forward into a European Uppercut to the jaw, almost knocking his legs out from under him.
Another chop does damage to the sternum, followed by a third, Hurse lighting up the man of many monikers. Hurse turns his back on Taylor, taking him around the neck and snapmaring him over to his posterior. He then rushes out of the corner when the All-Star rolls to his knees, turning to face his inbound opponent and catches him by the crease of his knee, plucking his leg right out from under.
Hurse collapses to his back while Gavin stands up, still holding him by the crease of the knee. He turns so that he drags Hurse over to his stomach and steps over his lower back, applying a Boston Crab.
Comeau: Hurse all angst ridden and driven by the prospect of revenge against everyone he believes to be ruining the IWC, but that served to his detriment.
Kozlov: This is why you shouldn’t give in to feelings…they only cloud your judgment and leave you susceptible to momentum shifts such as these.
Immediately Hurse digs his claws into the canvas and uses the grip to drag himself towards the ropes, grabbing the bottom one and forcing a break in the submission. The crab is broken but not Gavin’s hold on Hurse’s leg. Once again the one eyed combatant, drags Gavin to the center of the ring and transitions from the Boston Crab into an ankle lock.
A roaring Hurse palms his way towards the ropes and throws his arm over the bottom cable, hooking it with the crease of his elbow. Another submission is broken but not the All-Star’s grip on the leg. He stomps the back of Hurse’s elbow to break his grip on the ropes and then drags him by his ankle to the center of the ring. Gavin wraps both of Hurse’s legs around one another then rolls him over to his chest while sitting on the small of the spine, applying a Texas Cloverleaf.
Hurse’s palm elevates about the canvas, but can’t bare the thought of tapping out to a member of the Chase family.
Comeau: One hold after another wearing Hurse down methodically.
Kozlov: Interesting strategy. But one can only delve into the same well so many times.
Before the temptation to tap can be indulged, Hurse twists his body enough to begin turning over onto his back. Gavin is forced to spin around and face his opponent, stooping down over the still wrapped up legs. Hurse then throws a straight gouge directly to Taylor’s eye, momentarily blinding him.
Gavin staggers and Hurse ascends, but the staggering ends when the ascension has ceased. Gavin rushes forward in order to take out his opposition with the lariat only to have Hurse catch him by the arm and drag him down to his stomach. He then places his taped wrists against Gavin’s eye, beginning to grind them against his pupil in this version of the crossface.
Taylor lifts his palm into the air, on the verge of tapping out while roaring in pain. His scratched retinas are spared from a potential blinding when he grabs the forearms of his opponent and begins to drag them away from his irises. He causes Hurse to break the hold and then go rolling forward across the canvas…to his feet….from which he charges across the ring and drills the seated Taylor to the eye via a big kick.
Now that Gavin is down, Hurse can lunge into the air and come down with his boot right to his eyeball. Taylor grabs at the swollen flesh around his eye, already starting to bruise. Hurse doesn’t help Taylor’s looks any as he drops down beside him and begins delivering right hand after right hand after right hand directly into the pupil of his opponent. He then pulls Taylor up to his seat, swoops in behind him to apply an abdominal stretch only to expose his eye to a series of MMA style elbows.
Ingelson demands he stops intentionally focusing offense on the eye but Hurse don’t play nicey nice with the rules. He digs his fingers directly into Taylor’s eye and tries to fish hook it, pulling back on the lids to keep Gavin to close his eyes in order to protect them.
Kozlov: Eye for an eye it seems.
Comeau: Yes….it looks like Hurse is trying to blind Gavin Taylor.
The eye gouging continues until Ingelson has to physically pry the hands away, tearing fingers out of Gavin’s orbital sockets. He’s only pulled away for a moment, more than enough time for Taylor to begin reaching his feet. Well….he gets at least half way up before Hurse steps in and has the creases of his knees grabbed hold of, Taylor pulling the legs out from under him.
Hurse collapses to his back and Taylor rolls forward into a jacknife cover…No wait…he breaks the pin so he can drop on his seat beside Hurse, bend his opponent’s arm over backwards and trap him in the Anaconda Vice.
Kozlov: Yet another hold by Gavin Taylor….intent on victory through the ultimate display of dominance.
Comeau: A submission loss by Hurse would definitely put an end to his pursuit to rid the entire IWC of Chase family and friends.
The submission has Hurse in dire straights, but he still manages to get a hand up and into the eye of Taylor, ripping away at it and causing the submission to be broken. Taylor grabs at his right eye, where a blood vessel has almost been busted. He stands up just as Hurse comes barreling in and throws a lariat only to be caught by the arm, Gavin on the brink of dragging him down into yet another submission….the crossface in retribution for Hurses earlier use of the move.
The hold is avoided though as Hurse drops into a forward roll, getting to his feet and instantly pouncing on the stooped forward Taylor, charging in with a bionic elbow aimed at the eye. But Taylor reacts with the type of timing that would lead one to believe that he possesses a sixth sense.
He stands up, catches the elbow, pulls it around behind Hurse’s back, sweeps his leg and drags him down with a hammerlock DDT that is ultimately transitioned back into the Anaconda Vice.
Brook is growing tired of this….her once inspiring edict transforming into a string of four letter words as she slaps the apron and shouts at Hurse to pull his head out of the vice and out of his ass as well.
Comeau: Seamless transition back into the Anaconda Vice, Gavin closing in on the submission.
Kozlov: He might just have to shatter Hurse’s neck to earn this win though. The man seems quite determined not to submit.
Hurse reaches up for the eye but Gavin uses his cheek to push the hand away and then put further pressure on the submission. Hurse’s face has turned blood red but he still not giving up. Eventually his resolve pays off, scooting across his back towards the ropes, extending his leg and placing an ankle over the bottom cable.
Comeau: I think you may be right…
Kozlov: You ‘think?’
Comeau: I KNOW your right.
Ingelson has been busy this evening, starting another five count, reaching four and forcing Gavin to relinquish the submission. Taylor rolls away from Hurse with both men starting to stand up but the eye patch wearing Hurse gaining a head full of steam as he charges at Gavin.
Taylor stands just enough to catch his opponent’s ribs to his shoulder, on the verge of heaving him up into the double A spine buster. But Hurse delivers a double axe handle to his upper back, putting an end to this attempt.
He then grabs Taylor’s wrist and drags him forward into his shoulders, standing up and holding Gavin in position for the ‘More than Meets the Eye.’ He has him up for the Go to Sleep which would presumably drop Taylor’s eye into his knee but that’s clearly not going to happen given the stubbornness of his opponent.
Gavin slips down off the shoulders and shoves Hurse right into the nearby turnbuckle, following him in the in process. Hurse connects chest first with the corner and then connects with a back elbow to the inbound eye of Taylor, who almost connects with the canvas as he stumbles towards the center of the ring. Hurse then turns around to eye Gavin, before looking to take his eye out with a big running elbow. Taylor ducks down though, catches Hurse’s ribs to his shoulder and heaves him up into the double A spine….nope….again Hurse counters by dropping forward over Taylor’s shoulder and ultimately sliding down his back.
He then pulls Gavin down into the sunset flip only to have Taylor roll backwards onto his feet then dash forward into the All Star Make….nope….scratch that one too….cause his knee misses Hurse’s face…He dropped down out of the way, causing Taylor to and on his feet with nothing to show for his troubles….except perhaps for pain.
Gavin turns around just as Hurse pulls him into his shoulders, standing up and holding Taylor in a stunner predicament before charging at the nearby ropes. He steps up them before pushing off the top rope and flipping over backwards into the sliced bread number…nadda…cause Gavin grabs the cables with both hands. As a result Hurse flips completely over and lands directly on his feet with nothing to show for his troubles…except perhaps for pain.
But there is no ‘perhaps’ about it, Gavin rushes out of the corner and throws all his weight and strength into the Real Men Use Lariats. Hurse’s head is almost ripped from his body as he collapses to his back then floats over to his knees, instinctively popping up like a jack in the box….much to his detriment….because Gavin races in and nails him with the All-Star Maker.
Comeau: Powerful and acrobatic combination by Gavin, nailing the Real Men Use Lariats and following it up with the All Star Maker.
Kozlov: Am I supposed to be impressed.
Comeau: Seeing as your not impressed by anything that isn’t road kill being feasted on by a carrion, I’m sure you’re not excited in the slightest by this.
Kozlov: If your not careful, you’ll be the next feast the carrion munches upon.
Into the cover.
1
2
3
The combination proved to be just the ticket to put Gavin in the winner’s circle, besting Hurse after a highly physical confrontation.
Comeau: Gavin clenches it tighter than I’m clinching my sphincter when sitting next to you.
Kozlov: A victory for Taylor yes….but he should have taken this much further if he truly wishes to protect his family…He should have massacred Hurse here tonight.
Comeau: I think he’s more than content with a victory here this evening.
The bell keeps on chiming and Gavin goes on celebrating. He stands up with his arms raised aloft…well…one arm…cause the other is currently palming his puffy eye. Even with his damaged vision, Gavin can still spot his tag team title belt….approaching it as he is about to grab it off the canvas….But the only thing that is grabbed is his wrist….by Robin Brooks.
She has entered the fray and is now spinning Gavin around to face her before throwing a slap into his cheek. Taylor stumbles back, grabs at his lip, smiles, and then rushes in to decapitate Brooks with the Real Men Use Lariats. But she ducks the attempted blow and instead rushes right into a recovered Hurse’s shoulders. He catches Gavin coming in, heaves him up and delivers the More Than Meets the Eye, dropping Taylor eye first into his raised knee.
Comeau: This is what Hurse and Brooks were after, not a win, but the total and complete annihilation of Gavin Taylor.
The knee to the eye has put Gavin’s back to the canvas. Into next week his mind has been knocked, and from his body his sight has been irrevocably altered. Hurse isn’t through distorting Gavin’s perception though, snapping his fingers towards Brooks, who reaches into her pocket and retrieves a…..railroad spike?
Kozlov: NOW I’m interested.
Comeau: As I thought you would be. Looks like Brooks and Hurse are going to use that spike to take Gavin’s vision away…permanently.
To the canvas descends Hurse with spike in hand, grabbing Gavin’s bangs to hold up his head and expose his eye to what’s coming next.
And what’s next is the unexpected arrival of TPKid and the Black Magic Woman, the two darting towards the ring.
Comeau: Kid and that Amazonian woman rushing out here….I guess to get their hands back on the Tag Team Title belt.
Kozlov: That woman is excessively tall.
There is no hesitation on TPKid’s part to slide into the ring….with the baseball bat explaining why he’s so comfortable. Robin rushes towards that weapon and stops when it comes within mere inches of her face. She falls back and rolls away from the bat wielding lunatic, leaving Hurse to deal with this pestilence.
And that’s what Hurse does…or at least tries to…swinging a spike at Gavin’s head only to have the bat swung into it. As a result the spike ends up impaled in Kid’s bat, and an alarmed Hurse is sent scuttling from the ring.
Comeau: TPKid sending Hurse and Brooks to higher ground.
Kozlov: But the fool lost sight of his original target….look at Gavin Taylor.
Throughout this whole attack by TPKid, Gavin has managed to slip under the radar, grabbing the Tag Team Title belt out of the corner. He throws it over his shoulder and rolls to the exterior of the ring…getting out of Jamestown just moments before he could be gunned down.
He drops to the mats and backs up them with a smile on his face, one that is widened the moment that Adam Chase appears on the stage. He mirrors the grin of his client, wanting to give himself a big pat on the back for having pulled all the necessary strings to get Kid to save his client and to allow Gavin to escape with the gold.
Once Taylor reaches the stage he DOES give Adam that pat on the back…or more accurately a good old fashioned knuckle bump.
Kozlov: It seems this was the plan all along.
Comeau: One can presume that Chase sent TPKid out here knowing he’d create just enough chaos for Gavin to slip away with the Tag Title in his possession.
As manager and client begin to exit through the curtains, Gavin cannot help but to raise a hand and wave bye-bye to the furious TPKid in the ring…who can now only watch as HIS tag team title belt is carried away by the lightest man to lay claim to the gold.
Whitman: Lois…..oh Lois….where art thou my fair, Lois.
Still wrapped in a sheet, now stained with laced fruit punch, we find the X-Class Champion overcoming his illness to pursue the devout Lois Prince.
Whitman: This was not a good idea.
He suddenly becomes feint, leaning against a wall in order to collect himself. After gathering his thoughts and obtaining some homeostatic regulation of his body, Clarence progresses down the corridor.
Ahem…
This time it isn’t an attempt to regulate body temperature and control his equilibrium that gives him pause…it’s the presence of the physical obstruction known as Silence. She is leaning against a wall as well…with a brown paper bag in her hands and a sullen demeanor.
Whitman: I’m in no condition for this.
Silence: Which is why I’m here, Percy…
In spit of all his ailments, Whitman moves a hand to his mustache, protecting it.
Whitman: If you’re here to get me to shave my mustache I’m afraid….
Silence: No-no, I’m here to give you this…
The brown paper bag is opened and a peanut butter sandwich is withdrawn.
Silence: This should cure all your ailments.
The sandwich is examined up, down and sideways.
Whitman: What kind of trick is this?
Silence: Trick…I’m hurt? Haven’t you ever heard, starve a fever, feed a cold? I’m only trying to help Percy….that’s all the Black Crusade has ever tried to do….help.
Whitman: I find that a bit difficult to believe when your monster is tossing me about like a ragamuffin.
Silence: Just take the sandwich, Percy. Pretty please.
Whitman: Fine! If it’ll get rid of you any sooner.
He tentatively takes the sandwich from Silence and carefully parts the bread to examine the contents.
Whitman: Are those…pickles?
Silence: Oh yes….Pickles and peanut butter…World’s most perfect combination.
Whitman: I’ll have to take your word for it.
Silence: See, your starting to trust us more already.
Whitman: Hmmmm.
He bites his tongue rather than biting the sandwich. Moving right along Whitman proceeds down the corridor, still valiantly searching for the woman he sent along to manage Silence this evening.
Al: WHITMAN, MY DEAR CHAP…
Another long sigh from the X-Class Champion, who finds his path occupied by the mouthpiece of Mr. Hush, who is currently holding a flute between his hands, trying to get it to produce a tune.
Al: HAVE YOU THE SLIGHTEST NOTION OF HOW TO GET THESE INFERNAL WIND INSTRUMENTS TO PRODUCE A HARMONIC TONE?
The flute is extended several times towards Whitman before he at last summons the courage to take it.
Whitman: I did play the recorder in grade-sc….
Al: SPLENDID…GOOD DAY TO YOU THEN, SIR.
Perplexed doesn’t even begin to describe Whitman as he watches Al take off, now left standing alone with a peanut butter sandwich in one hand and a flute in the other.
Whitman: Alright.
Clarence continues…hopefully unabated this time…as he proceeds down the corridor in a search for his lovely Lois. This search is made all that much easier when he comes upon a street sign…YES….a street sign with words ‘Lois Prince To the Left,’ sprayed in red across the normal white lettering.
Whitman: Well that simplifies matters.
Armed with a flute and a peanut butter sandwich, Whitman proceeds down the adjacent corridor, following the sign right to a door marked ‘Lois Prince’ with a giant arrow pointing down to the doorknob.
Though he would normally be hesitant to look at this gift as anything more than a bad omen, his ill mind leaves him susceptible to manipulation. Due to both hands being occupied, Whitman employs his shoulder to force the door open.…
Whitman: I‘m here my dear….
Ba’al: Awww…how nice of you to join me….
Clarence jumps back but unintentionally forces the door closed behind him. The sandwich and flutes in his palms make it impossible for him to get hold of the doorknob so he can manage an escape. Therefore he looks with delirious eyes upon the man seated in a circle of candles and upon some type of odd occultist sigil. A large serving tray is situated in front of the Prince of Sin, holding a slashed and beheaded chicken. He continues to employ his blade to snip away feathers and slice a few tendons.
Ba’al: Have you come for dinner? Whitman. I think Leeland Gaunt insinuated there were some cans of spam around here somewhere.
Whitman: Oh, erm….well….no…..
Ba’al: You’ve already brought along a sandwich I see….good thinking, lad. Now won’t you have a seat?
Palm extends towards a vacant space at his side.
Whitman: Ummm….I’m afraid….
Ba’al: SIT!
Whitman falls to the floor, right where he was standing…refusing to move even an inch closer to the Prince of Sin.
Ba’al: I’ve been meaning to have a discussion with you, Mr. Whitman.
Whitman: Oh?
Ba’al: I see that you’ve been conspiring with certain disreputable characters of late, individuals who have already been convicted and found guilty of an assortment of criminal misdoings. The company you keep does not reflect well upon you, Whitman. Guilt by association is the term I believe is most commonly used.
Whitman: I have not a clue what your…..
Ba’al: The Black Crusade, Mr. Whitman, the Black Crusade. Their dragging you down deeper and deeper into their darkness…into their sin…and you’re just jaunting merrily down a path of moral and spiritual inequity. You need to open your eyes, Mr. Whitman, you need to see what’s coming.
Whitman: And what is that?
Ba’al: The death of your soul.
The X-Class Champion drops the sandwich and the flute to the floor, grabs the doorknob, gives it a twist and flees when the opportunity presents itself. As he goes scrambling down the corridor, almost losing his footing thanks to his cold induced delirium, a figure materializes a few feet behind him. He steps out from the shadowy crevice created between two large laundry bins. Mr. Hush stands up with notepad in hand, beginning to scribble something down on a notepad.
He scratches Aulophobia…fear of flutes, Arachibutyrophobia….fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of your mouth, and Peladophobia….fear of bald people, off the list.
The time is ticking away…the hour is drawing near….we are mere moments from Executioner’s deadline….hence why he is in such a snit at the moment. He knocks over boxes to look under them, kicks down doors to peer inside and pulls trash barrels away from walls to gander behind them. He searches every nook and cranny for Mr. Gaunt.
Comeau: Executioner scouring the Manhattan Center looking for the Black Crusade, but their too busy playing games with Whitman and Ba’al.
Kozlov: He had better find Gaunt and get him to comply with the Blacklist’s edict.
Comeau: If he doesn’t, he’s in for it, big time.
All of Executioner’s searching at last brings him face to face with Legion….but not in the flesh. Instead he’s come across Legion’s mask hanging from a hook. He looks a little further down the corridor at Ron Raeth trying to duct tape together the shattered fragments of his banjo. The mask is slowly taken down off of the hook and held inches from Executioner’s eyes, the wheels turning in his head, hence why sparks might fly from his ears.
Mad doesn’t even begin to describe the present demeanor of Hurse and Robin Brooks…the two are fuming backstage after what just happened in the center of the ring…given their colossal failure to take out a member of the Chase family. Luckily all of the stagehands and other such personnel have cleared from this particular area of the building, avoiding being swept up into the pandemonium.
Robin: What happened out there, Steven…we had Gavin…we had him right where we wanted him.
Hurse: TPKid, THAT’S what happened….
The mere mention of the name clots his throat with rage.
Hurse: That idiot, and his partner Porno Lad…with all their foolish heroism…it….it….
He grows so angry he’s unable to even form coherent sentences….not that anything that came out of his mouth prior to this could be considered coherent.
Robin: We’ve got to deal with those two…Porno Lad has been a constant thorn in your side for as long as I can remember. And now with TPKid teaming alongside him, the two pose an even greater threat to our goals. As long as their running around acting like heroes, we’ll never have our revenge against Cruze and the Chase’s…those two will constantly meddle in our affairs.
The anger dissipates as regret sets it.
Hurse: You’re right…but I really wish it hadn’t come down to this…Porno Lad and I…..once again enemies as opposed to friends.
Robin: Dammit Steven….
A hard slap to his cheek.
Robin: Haven’t you realized yet? There can be no friendship in this business. All anyone is going to do in the long run is let you down or betray you.
This is a piece of logic that there can be no argument against…Hurse having been double crossed hundreds of times….by Porno Lad in particular.
Montgomery: She’s right, Steven…
The slap to the cheek isn’t nearly as insulting as being addressed by Lukas Montgomery, who could only sit and watch this scene from the shadows for so long. He lurches forward, at last making his presence known as he sits Indian style on the floor, not even standing to properly address the two individuals. Though they are not interested in his words, and are instead bearing clinched fists, interested in only a fight.
Montgomery: Robbie, Hurse…before the two of you get all self righteous and go into full on ‘hulk smash’ mode, give me a second to speak while I’m still permitted to have teeth in my mouth.
Hurse: That won’t be very long….Lukie.
Those teeth that threaten to be shattered flash in a bright smile, followed by an insidious eye wink.
Montgomery: Now I know the two of you and the Blacklist haven’t seen eye to eye…..oh wait…maybe that was a poor choice in words.
It becomes so increasingly difficult NOT to knock those teeth out.
Montgomery: But if Unity and Dark Legacy can come to a mutual understanding, I think we can learn from their lesson…after all….we have a common goal amongst us. You want retribution, and we want destruction. You want payback against Porno Lad and TPKid, we want to crush the Mega-Faces. And furthermore…you want to help Katelyn Buehler….and we have similar interest in Katelyn’s self preservation this evening.
Hurse: Meaning?
Montgomery: The two of you still have a soft spot for Buehler…which is downright adorable considering she has a total butter face…but that’s neither here nor there. You want to protect her this evening…then let the Blacklist offer some guidance. You want to take out your former partner, Porno Lad, and his new associate, TPKid? Let the Blacklist lend a hand. Just because we took your eye, Hurse, it doesn‘t mean we all can‘t be friends.
The last thing young Ashley Marie Chase expected to hear tonight was so much praise from her peers. A number of pats are given to her shoulders by members of the New Age roster. And Brooklyn Smith is also present to sing her partner’s praises.
Brooklyn: That really was a great match tonight, Ashley.
Brooklyn makes this statement while receiving a few stitches to the laceration in her forehead. All the while Ashley is getting looked over for concussion syndromes via a light flashed in her eyes. The two ladies sit on side by side cots in the trainer’s room, looked up down, forward to back.
Ashley: Was it really all that good?
Brooklyn: You’re performance was sensational. Thank you might even show up on a few Meltzer lists.
Ashley: Who?
Brooklyn: Forget it…bottom line is though, I think you proved a lot of your detractors and critics wrong. You showed why you deserve to be on this roster and what you bring to this company.
Ashley: Thank you, Brook….that means…
Lohan: Sorry, Ash….I hate to be the bearer of bad news.
Chase’s hair stands on end and goose-bumps form on her skin as she turns to the embodiment of destruction, Brittany Lohan.
Lohan: Are you feeling okay, dear?
Ashley: Yeah, just a little dehydrated is all…What can I do for you?
Formalities are dispensed.
Lohan: I just thought….no…I really shouldn’t…not when your in such good spirits.
Brittany sits down on the cot beside her and ‘feigns’ empathy.
Ashley: What is it?
Like a mouse she’s taken the cheese, and now the trap has been sprung.
Lohan: Ash, you know how much I care about your family.
Ashley: I know you and Tay-Tay have a special relationship.
Lohan: No…Ash, I care about your ENTIRE family. They’ve been quite influential in guiding me throughout my life. And now I’m here to return the favor.
Chase prods for further information, playing right along.
Ashley: Meaning?
Lohan: You just went out there and did everything right, you had a great match against Amanda, you put all your effort into it and you played things straight up, no cheating, no treachery, no deceit….
Ashley: Yep.
She looks quite pleased with herself.
Lohan: And yet your opponent still has THIS to say about you….
Cassidy Haze’s cell-phone is held up and plays the words spoken by Amanda mere moments ago
Amanda:…Ashley is a bit of a flake. She seems like the type of lady who relies on sex appeal to find success in this company as opposed to wrestling talent. She doesn’t seem to be the type who spends countless hours in the gym honing her skills to be a better athlete, instead spending countless hours picking just the right outfit that will make her oh so ‘cute.’
Well, it might have been what Amanda said, but it was taken completely out of context…that context leaving Ashley looking more than a little crushed.
Ashley: Why….why…why would she say that?
Lohan: Because, little girl, people have no appreciation for hard work, determination, honor or respect. It doesn’t make an impact….not like the lasting impact that Cassidy and I make on a weekly basis.
Chase is almost too offended to hear Lohan out…legitimately hurt by these scathing statements, made my a woman who’s respect she THOUGHT she earned.
Lohan: You want people to take you seriously? You need to show them that you possess the killer instinct. That you’ll go to any lengths to win. That you’ll HURT someone to get what you want.
Ashley opts to sit in silence, thinking over everything she heard from the phone and from the lips of Lohan.
Lohan: You and Taylor BOTH need to be reminded why it’s the Dark Legacy’s way that’ll lead to glory and success….You don‘t want respect….you want fear….Only the Dark Legacy way can get you the recognition you deserve.
Ashley: The Dark Legacy way?
Lohan: Yes, Ash, we’ll show you the way. Join team Dark Legacy at the End of the Year Special, and we’ll teach you, Yvonne Knight….Kathryn Pearson…and you’re sister…how it’s done…..Unless of course, you would rather go through life being known as a ‘flake.’
Back to the ringside area where Mark Comeau continues sitting rather uncomfortably beside Nicolai Kozlov, who has shown not an inkling of emotion throughout the entirety of the evening.
Comeau: Big surprise, Sparkles continues to fail to endear himself to the female roster. Definitely barking up the wrong tree when it comes to objectifying Amanda Blayze.
Kozlov: The majority of woman ARE objects, because they make THEMSELVES objects.
Comeau: Huh?
Kozlov: Make up….skimpy outfits…they all want to be objectified…they all want to be dominated.
Comeau: Do you go on a lot of dates?
Kozlov: Do you want to keep all of your teeth?
Comeau: I’m a little attached to them.
Kozlov: You won’t be if you ask anymore condescending questions.
To an explosive reaction…one that thankfully diverts Kozlov’s attention from Comeau’s bicuspids….Katelyn Buehler’s intro music plays through the PA system and the crowd waits to feast their eyes upon the NEW Katelyn…and that’s exactly what they see as she STORMS…not stutter steps…skips…dances…or strolls….but STORMS through the curtains and to the stage. This is NOT the same Katelyn who’s one on one match with Legion several months ago had her balling before fleeing towards the nearest bed to hide under. This is a different Katelyn…a determined Katelyn…one that will not run…and one that will not hide.
Comeau: Well…Kozlov…looks like we’re going to see it, Buehler truly is going through with this match tonight against Legion.
Kozlov: Never let me hear my name pass through your lips again.
Comeau: Noted. The last time Katelyn was scheduled to face Legion, I think she pissed herself and ran to the nearest ladies room. Tonight, I smell no such urine…and believe me, I know the scent of urine, having woken up with my face buried in numerous toilets.
Katelyn descends to the end of the ramp amidst a myriad of reactions from the crowd, but she doesn’t care about their reactions…she doesn’t indulge them…nor the fears that once crippled her…There’s nothing that can cripple her…not for the like of trying though.
Harrison: Mrs. Buehler…
Katelyn had just entered the ring…or was at least half way through the ropes when she’s forced to pause and address the man moving down the ramp with microphone in hand and bad intentions in store for whomever crosses his path.
Comeau: And there’s ONE of our General Managers this evening, considering Harrison has apparently been spreading the wealth between himself and his cohorts, which has created one of the most chaotic editions of Riot! I can recall ever seeing.
Kozlov: That’s not saying much, judging by the odor of alcohol on your breath, I’m assuming you don’t remember very much of the shows you watch anyway.
Comeau: Valid point. But that’s not actually alcohol…it’s paint varnish.
Katelyn isn’t about to back down from Legion, and Harrison backs down from no one, Buehler included. He rolls in under the ropes and rises with microphone in hand, his eyes never even crossing Katelyn even as he talks directly to her.
Harrison: I’m afraid there’s going to be a change in your scheduled match this evening.
Buehler was quite looking forward to the opportunity to redeem herself against Legion…not to Harrison throwing his powers around.
Harrison: Because the Blacklist has decided the time has come to punish another of the wicked harbingers of chaos….but this time penance will not be accomplished through the sweat of another…blood will be on MY hands. And it’ll be the blood of the individual I’VE selected to face me for the Evolution Championship at THIS very moment.
At last his eyes cross the face of Katelyn, who resists the urge to gulp and instead bucks up her chest and clinches her fist.
Harrison: Don’t worry Katelyn, I’ll get my hands dirty AFTER your match this evening…so Legion….I would suggest you get to this ring NOW and fulfill your obligations by decimating this rancid, disease infested scourge of humanity.
Comeau: Am I hearing this correctly?
Kozlov: Depends on how much paint varnish you drank.
Comeau: Is Harrison forcing Katelyn to face Legion FIRST and then he’ll swoop in after the match and put the Evolution Title on the line against her?
Kozlov: Seems to be the plan.
Comeau: There won’t be anything left of Katelyn to challenge for the Evolution Championship.
Kozlov: Exactly.
Comeau: Oh.
Wisely Harrison puts the ropes between himself and an enraged Buehler, occupying the apron and space in Katelyn’s head.
Harrison: You said you wanted a title shot, Katelyn, you’ll just have to wait a bit longer….
Eyes transfer to the stage once more which remains empty of Legion.
Harrison: Legion! Now is your time. Get out here this inst….
FINALLY…’Henry, Portrait of a Serial Killer’ descends over the PA system and there’s a bit of pixilation across the screen. The summoning of Legion messes with the electrical equipment and transforms the normal lighting to a suggestive red shade. Suddenly two arms materialize through the stage…but this time they aren’t actually emerging through the steel. It seems that an aperture has been opened and a small lift is heaving the masked N.H.B Champion to the surface of the stage.
Kozlov: The Blacklist proving their point at long last about Legion and the Black Crusade, showing that they are nothing more than a group of inhuman filth.
Comeau: Well, Legion IS scheduled to face Katelyn tonight…
Kozlov: Are you defending him?
Comeau: Absolutely not.
Unto the stage crawls the master of fear….but his presence is void of its normal imposing and awe inspiring nature….Though he closely matches Legion’s size, he lacks his physique and fails to embody an aura of menace. Instead the big masked man is trembling, looking incredibly un ease as he descends down the ramp towards Katelyn.
She’s currently slapping herself in the cheeks to get herself energized for not one…but two bouts this evening…one perhaps culminating in the capturing of the Evolution Championship….But her night suddenly becomes much easier when Legion is spun around and nailed under the jaw with the EPIC FAIL.
Comeau: PORNO LAD?
Kozlov: Sigh.
Comeau: I thought you fancied unprovoked attacks.
Kozlov: And I thought you wanted to keep your teeth.
The monster has been knocked to his back, and it surprisingly took little effort to do it. Porno Lad spins through the kick then turns back towards Buehler, doing a finger point in her direction that elicits a ‘YOU’ from the crowd.
Porno Lad: Step one…complete…We set Legion up perfectly…Now take out Harrison and bring home the gold baby.
Katelyn can’t shake her head enough, protesting Porno Lad’s actions until her throat grows horse and her neck hurts.
Katelyn: What are you doing? Damn you, ETHAN! I WANTED to fight Legion.
Porno Lad nods and then winks towards Buehler….as if to say, ‘suuuuurree you did.’ He then backs up the ramp leaving ‘Legion’ sprawled lifelessly across the stage. Just as Porno Lad vacates the ramp two figures occupy it, Mika Kozlov and Lukas Montgomery darting down the ramp and each taking hold of one of ‘Legion’s’ arms. They employ their grips to pull the Black Crusade representative to his knees, dragging his barely cogent body towards the ring.
Comeau: I’m so confused.
Kozlov: Binging on paint varnish will do that to you.
There is no fight from ‘Legion’ as he’s dragged to his feet and rolled in under the ropes. Katelyn wants to interfere but the instant she takes a step towards ‘Legion’ a thrust kick nails her beneath the jaw, Harrison taking her out…literally….cause Buehler spills through the ropes to the exterior of the ring. As she falls, Harrison rises, microphone in hand.
Harrison: You WILL have to wait longer for your title match, Katelyn…much longer than tonight….because let the record’s show that it’s LEGION who will be challenging me for the Evolution Championship this very moment.
Comeau: That lying bastard….He just…just bamboozled us all…again!
Kozlov: An absolute master of deception.
Comeau: The Blacklist played this perfectly. They got Legion to come out here to face Buehler, and obviously must have overheard Porno Lad backstage when he said he was going to do something about the Black Crusade….so they knew Lad would take Legion out for them without the Blacklist even needing to lift a finger.
Kozlov: For a man who’s brain is so diluted through exposure to pills and alcohol, you follow along quite well.
The masked man gets to a knee but not for long, because the Evolution Championship will not finds its way to his shoulder but to his forehead. The gold is thrown over the ropes by Montgomery right into Harrisons clutches and used to crack ‘Legion’s’ skull. Instead of wasting effort destroying this man, who Harrison knows is just a Legion doppleganger, he falls into the lateral press almost instantly. Referee Ingelson, who was standing in the corner to officiate Buehler versus Legion, is now entrusted to make the count for this impromptu bout.
He falls to the canvas and slaps it.
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3!
Comeau: Okay….explain this to me…how come the damn near unstoppable Legion couldn’t kick out?
Kozlov: Maybe because that’s NOT Legion, and the Blacklist knew that when they put this all together. Harrison never had any intent to actually face the N.H.B Champion tonight, he KNEW Gaunt would just send out another man in a Legion mask under the guise that he would be attacking Buehler, but having no idea he would actually be wrestling….and thusly would be easy pickings…especially after being laid out by Porno Lad.
The fix is in…the crowd suddenly beginning to realize what just happened…especially as Harrison gets up to gloat about it…never having released the microphone.
Harrison: Ladies and gentlemen, let the official record books show that I have just defeated Legion in one on one action for the Evolution Championship. Forever shall Legion’s record reflect that he was pinned by the Blacklist.
All the gloating comes to an abrupt halt once the lights transform into that same foreboding red hue and Legion’s intro music pipes through the speakers. But it’s not what’s piping through the PA that has everyone’s interest, it’s what’s ripping through the ring. A gaping hole opens up behind the Blacklist, and two massive arms tear through it. In the dark pit two glowing and menacing orbs can be detected, the eyes of Legion.
Comeau: Erm…behind you.
Kozlov: Turn around cousin!
When the change in the arena lighting takes effect and the change in the crowd’s tune shortly follows thereafter, the Blacklist realizes the fix is in. They simultaneously turn to eyeball the man who they ‘technically’ now hold a victory over. The ferocious N.H.B Champion pulls himself up through the ring and is about to pull a member of the Blacklist down with him.
Unfortunately for Legion there’s a bit of an uneven tilt to this pending war, as the Blacklist have a decisive three on one advantage…and it’s one they seem on the brink of exploiting. However, that advantage is decreased when Katleyn slides back into the ring and stands behind the back of the Black Crusade member.
Comeau: Look at this…Katelyn is standing next to Legion! She’s actually backing him up against the Blacklist.
Kozlov: Poor woman should pick her battles with some wisdom rather than with her heart.
It doesn’t seem that the slightly more even odds have effect the Blacklist in the slightest, they continue to circle the wagons with fists at the ready. Just when it seems a two on three war is about to break out, a retreat is sounded by the Blacklist. They simultaneously drop to the mats and roll out of the ring, leaving Legion to kneel on the canvas and Buehler to shake her fists in their direction.
Comeau: But the Blacklist are leaving?
Kozlov: Pick your battles wisely, Mark….wisely.
On their way up the ramp Montgomery reaches out, and with hands still covered in Hunt’s blood, takes the microphone from Harrison.
Montgomery: LEGION! We understand if you’re a bit upset by your loss tonight….
There’s no emotion evident behind the mask or in Legion’s mannerisms.
Montgomery: If you want to do something about it….we’ll be in that ring in just a few minutes…feel free to TRY and earn your retribution.
The microphone falls to the ramp and the Blacklist backs through the curtains. Legion watches with that same demonic gleam ever present in his eye, indicative of his demonic intents for the Blacklist. As if their actions over the past few months didn’t leave them deserving of a sound threshing, their behavior this evening has put one foot in the open grave that has been built to the side of the stage.
Legion begins to crawl in serpentine fashion across the canvas and slide under the ropes only to have his pursuit of the Blacklist halted….halted by the screams of Katelyn Buehler.
Katelyn: Whoa there big hoss.
Legion methodically turns his head to address the woman bold enough to allow his name to slip through her lips.
Katelyn: Feel free to deal with the Blacklist later…but right now…you have ME to deal with, and unlike the Blacklist, I’m NOT running away….not this time.
The ever so bold Katelyn tosses the microphone aside, right along with any semblance of inhibition. She channels every bit of her inner courage, bringing it to the surface of her now blood red skin.
But her skin might just become externally blood red when Legion gets his massive palms upon her.
Kozlov: Did I not just warn Buehler to stop thinking with that organ in her chest, and instead think with the one in her head?
Comeau: She said tonight was not about setting up the Black Crusade, it was about redemption. Several weeks ago on this telecast, Katelyn ran away from Legion, tonight, she’s NOT running, she’s standing her ground and showing that she is definitely a changed woman.
Kozlov: Most athletes would require a changing when standing across from this monster, Legion.
The N.H.B Champion is about to show just how monstrous he can be when nodding to the official that the match is on. Ingelson calls for the bell and a pacing Katelyn steps right up her opponent’s stomach, her chest wedging against it….not tall enough to go sternum to sternum. Buehler is stoic…emotionally and verbally…as she glares into the twisted aura exuded from the masked Legion’s eyes.
As hard as that is to process, Buehler does something even more shocking once she steps back and throws a big forearm into Legion’s chest. The blow does not phase Legion physically…but seems to surprise him mentally. His head tilts further to the side, to get a better examination of the spunky Katelyn, who audaciously is calling for him to bring it, employing the classic gesticulations and gestures with her open sweeping palms.
Legion finally takes her up on the request, swooping in with a lariat that Buehler manages to duck. The Champion spins around and receives another forearm to the chest. After hitting the blow Katelyn hits the canvas, slapping it with both palms and screaming before she lunges into the air, nailing another forearm, this time right on point to Legions jaw. The strikes are delivered with so much raw emotion and aggression from Buehler, but do absolutely nothing to so much as chip away at the wall that is the Black Crusade member.
Like a protagonist in the Shawshank Redemption, it’s going to take decades for Buehler, the human rock hammer to at last break Legion down. That doesn’t stop her from trying to crush him with another forearm that is caught. Legion throws the arm down to Buehler’s side and then reaches out, engulfing her head with the palm of his hand.
Comeau: That hand about to smoosh Katelyn’s head like a peanut in the mouth of a nut cracker.
Kozlov: Funny you should say that, as I’m sure this young lady is not unaccustomed to having nuts in her mouth as well.
Legion looks like he’s not applying much effort…but he’s actually putting an incredible amount of pressure on Buehler’s head until it feels like a grapefruit caught in the middle of a vice. She twists from side to side, trying to free her head, kicking her legs and throwing arms as well…but no body contortions or heaving limbs can get her out of this submission.
An indifferent Legion puts even more precious on the submission until Katelyn’s legs begin to buckle and she starts to slowly collapse to the canvas.
Comeau: And it looks like this is over before it ever even got started.
Kozlov: As if there was ever going to be much of a match to begin with.
Katelyn stops thrashing, her arms stop swinging, her legs stop kicking, and her body just dangles limply from Legion’s palm. Before Ingelson can even step in to do the obligatory raising of Buehler’s arm, Legion discards her like nothing more than a soiled napkin.
The delicate flower that is Buehler, wilts to the canvas as Legion walks away.
Comeau: Legion’s through…
Kozlov: With this farce.
Comeau: With this match….and Buehler showed a lot of courage by not running away this time.
Legion gets one foot on the ramp when his forward momentum is halted…..halted by the screams…cries of Katelyn Buehler.
Katelyn: Sorry Legion….
Once again Legion finds his head methodically twisting towards the woman crawling across the canvas.
Katelyn: You’re gonna have to do better than that.
She leans throat first over the ropes, which seem to be the only thing holding her up at this point…And she’s gonna find it even harder to stand when Legion re-enters the ring…exactly what he’s doing. The N.H.B Champion steps over the ropes and moves right towards Buehler, who suddenly lunges forward skull first into his ribs. A shocked Legion doubles over, grabbing at his lungs, which have just had the air knocked straight out of them.
He rubs at his ribs just as Katelyn leaps to her feet then into the air, nailing a knee to his forehead. Legion stands up straight, swinging his arms as Buehler then delivers a dropkick right to his knee, putting him in that dreaded doubled over position once again.
Katelyn kips up to her feet, and does so shockingly without a botch.
Comeau: Are we seeing this?
Kozlov: Katelyn making the biggest mistake of her entire life? Yes….that’s what we’re seeing.
The crowd is positively amazed by Katelyn’s offensive barrage completely catching Legion off guard, and at the same time swelling Buehler’s confidence. She takes off into the ropes, ricochets from them and then charges into a military press by Legion followed by the Guiding Hand. His fist nails her with such unbelievable force that it’s a miracle her head remains attached to her shoulders.
The whiplash from the big uppercut rattles Buehler’s brain to the point where a concussion HAS to have resulted, hence why she lies listlessly on the canvas.
Comeau: OHHH OUCH! HOLY CHRIST what an uppercut.
Kozlov: Emotion from you, Comeau, surprising.
Comeau: Guess my coffee is starting to kick in.
Buehler was bashed worse than a pinata on Cinco-de-Mayo, and now lies on the canvas on the verge of spitting out teeth rather than candy. Legion steps back to survey all the destruction that was done with a single blow. Referee Ingelson actually grows a spine, which stiffens when standing between Legion and Katelyn, flashing an ‘X’ with his arms to indicate to the N.H.B Champion that his opponent has been severely injured.
More often than not Legion wouldn’t care about inflicting an injury…actually…that’s pretty much his goal going into every contest. But for some reason, instead of capitalizing on said injury, he backs away, leaving Katelyn lying on the canvas clutching at her swollen jaw.
Kozlov: Come on Legion, I thought you were a compassionless monster. Finish this woman off….tear out her limbs like wings on a butterfly.
Comeau: I think he has for the most part…
Kozlov: For the most part isn’t the same as doing it.
Comeau: Noted.
It just isn’t worth it, Legion has made his point and now looks to make a statement of others…namely the members of the Blacklist. He steps over the ropes and drops to the mats before commencing up the ramp, getting about half way to the back when his attention diverts to the Cartel-tron. His eyes are fixated on the image of Katelyn grabbing the slacks and shirt of the referee, keeping him from being able to call for the bell to end this match via a knock out.
Ingelson tries to pull away but can’t pry his attire from the clutches of a desperate Katelyn, who turns the ref into a makeshift crutch to reach her feet. Eventually her mouth ends up right beside his ear.
Katelyn: Don’t you call for the bell…Don’t you stop this match!!
Ingelson: You can barely even stand…
Katelyn: If you stop this match I’ll fucking kill you.
She makes this threat before falling to her knees, and it’s from this kneeling base that she looks up to find herself staring at Legion no longer on the ramp, but on the apron.
Katelyn: Well come on then.
There are actually fans in attendance pleading with Katelyn to SHUT UP, but she won’t quite flapping her gums….she won’t quite challenging Legion. The massive maestro of mayhem has outstretched the leg over the top rope and slowly re-enters the ring, growing weary with this constant entering and exiting.
Katelyn: I said COME ON….
A tooth shattering thrust kick DOES shut Katelyn up and put her down….long enough for Legion to put a foot on her chest to cement this dominating performance.
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Comeau: And Legion just breaking Katelyn’s skull in two with that kick….She put up quite a statement making effort in this…
Obviously Comeau was unwise in writing off Buehler so quickly….but who wouldn’t after that face rearranging kick….because Katelyn is able to launch a shoulder from the ring a mere fraction of a second before tasting defeat. Though it only causes her to taste more blood, cause now Legion is….annoyed.
Kozlov: And this foolish, naïve woman kicks out….After this match there will be nothing left of her to go on and challenge for the World Championship.
Comeau: Can’t argue with that….
Kozlov: Then I would advise you not to try.
Blood is spat from between Buehler’s teeth as she turns away from Legion but gets only as far as he’ll allow. Ultimately he reaches out, catches Katelyn’s hair and pulls her head into a front chancery. He then takes her by the waistband, heaves Buehler up into a veritcal suplex position but doesn’t immediately follow through.
Instead he allows more blood to flow to Buehler’s head, to pool around her brain and make her even more light headed. The masked N.H.B Champion steps around the ring in circles, continuing to easily hoist the miniscule Buehler above him in the stalling suplex predicament. He then turns and actually steps up the turnbuckle, sitting on the top rope with Katelyn still held in the suplex predicament.
He then stands up and sits down, stands up, and sits down, showing off his incredible strength and durability. Katelyn kicks her legs in an attempt to escape as Legion just plays games with her at this point.
But the fun is all Katelyn’s when she’s actually able to squirm out of Legion’s clutches, land on her feet upon the top rope behind the N.H.B Champion then dive forward. She catches him around the neck and drags Legion down off the top rope into a bulldog that has the fans gasping in sheer disbelief.
Legion’s face slams into the ring and ultimately follows his body as it all flops as one to his backside.
Comeau: What was that!?!
Kozlov: I believe it’s commonly referred to as a bulldog.
Comeau: But how did Katelyn manage to hit it…and on Legion to boot?
The fans react with the same expression of Warden Norton when he tears away a poster of Raquel Welsh to find the hidden tunnel beneath. And like Andy Dufresne, Buehler had to crawl through a river of shit in order to emerge on the other side, where a possible victory is within her clutches. She wants to make sure of it though, which is why she crawls across the ring, under the ropes, to the apron and up the nearest turnbuckle.
Comeau: No Buehler, go for the pin…go for the pin!
Kozlov: Or go to the top rope and make an ass of yourself. Either option works for me,
Katelyn is only concerned with one option…ensuring that she shakes the world by defeating Legion…a task no one has been capable of accomplishing since IWC’s rebirth. So she perches herself on the top rope and steadies her legs beneath her, moments from leaping into the elbow drop when Legion suddenly sits up. No…he just doesn’t sit up…but pushes his body up off the canvas in a crabwalk fashion.
Katelyn is shaking her head, not just beside herself, but surrounded by herself at this point…She just cannot accept what she’s seeing…the image of the masked Legion towering in the ring before her. But like a demolition crew, she’s intent on taking down this monolithic structure, no matter how long it’s withstood the test of time. Instead of hitting a dive on a laid out Legion, Buehler delivers a dive on her standing opponent via the front dropkick. Both boots connect with Legion’s chest, staggering him but failing to remove him from his feet.
Katelyn just bounces off the steel like sternum of Legion and falls to her rump with nothing to show for her efforts. Legion just glares down at Buehler and then SLOWLY shakes his head.
Kozlov: Now you’ve done it…Buehler. You’ve stepped in it deep.
Comeau: And there’s no clawing your way out of this pit.
The fearful Legion steps towards Buehler only to find his legs cut out from under him via a dropkick to his knee. He goes flying into the ropes, falling against them and leaning against the top rope as Buehler rushes to the center of the ring. She then charges up behind Legion, lunges into the air and connects with a big splash to his back.
Comeau: This is equally as amazing as Legion’s recuperative capabilities. Buehler just refuses to accept that this man is invincible.
Kozlov: No man is invincible…It’s just a matter of finding their weakness.
Comeau: You sound just like Mr. Gaunt earlier tonight when he vowed to find Ba’al’s fear.
Kozlov: Never compare me to Gaunt, ever again.
The splash has knocked the air from Legion’s lungs, but not the fight from his body. He manages to turn around as Katelyn gets another running start for the stinger splash. She leaps into the air and lands right on top of him…but doesn’t bounce off. Instead she remains affixed to his chest, Legion throwing her across his arms, stepping out of the corner and then flipping over backwards into the fall away moonsault slam.
After breaking Buehler’s bones and imploding her organs, Legion just rolls away, feigning no sympathy or interest in Katelyn’s plight. He just sits and stews quietly as the official ascertains the extent of Katelyn’s injuries. He checks her over from head to toe and with a heavy heart turns to call for the bell. His hand is in mid-swing, about to end this match for the good of Katelyn…but only Buehler believes she knows what’s good for her…hence why she reaches out and catches the official’s wrist.
Ingelson looks down at the desperate face of Buehler, at the pain contorting her features and the blood dribbling from the corners of her mouth.
Katelyn: I’ll kill you.
Though her words aren’t nearly as threatening, or spoken with the same level of intensity, they still manage to stay the official’s hand, keeping Ingelson from calling for the bell.
Comeau: End this thing, Ref….Don’t listen to Katelyn, she can barely even blink an eye, let alone stand to fight Legion.
Kozlov: But she will stand only to be knocked down again and again and again. She is so misguided, as are so many in this company.
Legion looks without remorse upon the woman he’s victimized so….having no sympathy for the irrational Buehler….who knows exactly what she was asking for when she got into this match, and is getting precisely that. She slowly begins to ascend to her feet but only manages to get a single knee under her when Legion moves in and engulfs her skull with his hand. The Five Finger Crawl squeezes…grips….vices the head of the trapped victim….who in spite of everything she has…buried in even her deepest reserves….cannot fight free from this submission.
Comeau: This match finally drawing to an end.
Kozlov: Would you stop saying that? Every time you do, Katelyn just fires back up again and prolongs not just her suffrage, but everyone forced to watch her wrestle.
Another tensing of Legion’s palm and application of pressure on the head takes the remaining strength out of Katelyn’s body. Her knees buckle and her body goes limper than a worm embedded on a hook. She would crumble to the canvas but Legion keeps her upright via the grasp on her head, refusing to let go.
Now the official DOES step in and take the wrist, lifting Buehler’s arm up high and then allowing it to drop to her side to indicate rather she’s fully faded or not. But somehow just before the arm can fall to the canvas, it shoots back into the air, knuckles balling into a fist and shaking high above.
Comeau: Ladies and gentlemen, unless you’re here, seeing this live, the feeling in this building is just indescribable.
Kozlov: Why are these people supporting Buehler…don’t they realize their just hurting her by giving her false hope?
Comeau: Their showing something you lack, Kozlov, emotion.
Kozlov: Something I’m glad to not be plagued with.
Buehler continues to shake trembling fists above her head to a pulse elevating response from the crowd. And in an act that defies any semblance of realism, Katelyn grabs Legion’s wrist with both hands and actually begins to force it back from her head.
Comeau: No way…absolutely no way is this happening, are we seeing this. Katelyn actually on the verge of overpowering Legion and forcing him to break the Five Finger Crawl.
Hearts skip beats, seats lose their occupants, and drinks slosh above the heads of the ever so excited inebriants as everyone in the building reacts in their own unique way to the unique sight of Legion’s hand actually being forced back from Buehler’s head. The Five Finger Crawl has been….firmly reestablished. Legion’s palm comes back down onto Katelyn’s head and squeezes with even greater force than before. Like a dozen eggs, Katelyn’s head cracks and forms an omelet. Blood is now beginning to seep from Katelyn’s nostrils as she comes down to her knees.
Comeau: For the love of that’s holy, stay down Katelyn, just stay down.
Kozlov: As if she even possesses the brains to realize the futility of this fight…otherwise she never would have challenged Legion in the first place.
Comeau: Come on now Kozlov, many people have rose up to overcome greater challenges, like at the battle of Thermopylae…
Kozlov: Poor example…the Greeks were eventually crushed by the Persians.
The more Legion squeezes the more blood trickles from Katelyn’s nostrils and out of her ears, now splattering across her shoulders. Referee Ingelson sees this brain hemorrhage and at last moves to do something about it.
Katelyn: DON’T!!
Somehow she manages to employ what last bits of strength she has left to lift an arm, extending it out towards Ingelson in a pleading gesture. It’s with a heavy heart and crestfallen eyes that Ingelson steps back from the ropes and opts to keep the match going.
Kozlov: Why is he keeping this farce going? It’ll be hard for Katelyn to blow him with a wired shut jaw.
Though it feels like her head is caught between the thighs of Famke Janssen playing an evil Bond villain, Katelyn hangs in there…and hangs in there…and hangs in there. Finally Legion cannot help but to notice that Buehler will NOT give in…will not go down…will just keep fighting no matter what. It’s in that moment that Legion’s heart grows to ten times it’s normal size, and he realizes that maybe this match means a little bit more.
Or he just gets really bored…
Either way he lets go of Katelyn’s head and watches as she drops to her seat before him.
Comeau: Why did….Legion just let Katelyn go.
Confusion exudes from the confused eyes of Legion…who watches with a titled head as Buehler starts to get to her knees in front of him…blood still oozing from her nose and mouth.
Katelyn: Come on…..come on!
Forearms are driven into Legion’s ribs with both arms in spite of their being absolutely nothing behind the shots…no strength whatsoever….it’s completely zapped from her body. Every muscle in her small frame feels like it weights 300 pounds, like she’s had boulders chained to her joints. But she keeps throwing forearms in her clearly disorientated state and shouting gibberish in the process.
Katelyn: Don’t give up….don’t surrender….FIGHT ME!
Legion finally closes Katelyn’s mouth by grabbing her around the jaw. The moment his palm makes contact with her flesh, Buehler’s arms fall to her sides and she looks through glazed over eyes into the face of the N.H.B Champion…turning into putty in his hands.
Katelyn: Fight me!
Legion doesn’t throw a blow but instead unleashes a sigh. He then pulls her head in under his seat and heaves her up to his shoulders, setting up for a version of the Misery….but before he can transition into either a DDT or a choke slam….all the options are removed thanks to a dropkick….a dropkick right to the chin of Buehler.
A dropkick delivered by…of all people….Hurse…who sailed off the turnbuckle behind Legion in order to deliver this blow.
Comeau: Who…what…why…and where?
Kozlov: All questions I have no interest in answering.
Comeau: Hurse out of nowhere with a dropkick right to Katelyn’s face! Retribution I suppose for what happened at Upping the Ante between these two.
The bell chimes in the background, official Ingelson given no other recourse but to signal for the disqualification.
Kozlov: Yet another disqualification?
Comeau: Figures…it seems that Hurse has just got Legion disqualified…meaning in the process of attacking Buehler…he cost Legion the match….Has Legion had a clean win or loss since his debut here?
Kozlov: It appears this one eyed idiot may have killed two birds with a single stone…Not that I endorse the slaughtering of birds with stones…in spite of my past childhood hobbies.
Legion merely watches as Buehler spills out of his hands and Hurse rolls across the canvas, evading the ring before the masked behemoth even has time to react. The soulless eyes of the N.H.B Champion transfer from the body of Buehler to the smile of Hurse as he backs up the ramp, cackling to himself.
Comeau: So as a result of this interference from Hurse…Legion has been disqualified….Talk about a bad night for the N.H.B Champion…
Kozlov: Yes, because now he has TWO losses on his record.
Comeau: Both via outrageous technicalities though.
Kozlov: Don’t sugar coat it.
A down trodden Buehler hears the bell chime, snapping her out of her daze as she turns to her side with blood dribbling from her nostrils and lips….Her melancholy eyes fixate on the face of Hurse, a man she once trusted. They then turn to Legion, who surprisingly makes no move to impose his wrath upon her…Instead he crosses his arms and judgmentally shakes his head.
Comeau: Shockingly Katelyn victorious here tonight…
Kozlov: But is that what Katelyn truly wanted, a win under these circumstances?
Comeau: As I was trying to say before though, win or lose, she put on a hell of a statement making match against Legion. That never die attitude really went a long way in providing how far she’s come as an athlete. Plus, I didn’t see a single botch from her here tonight.
Buehler’s forehead falls against the canvas with her hands wrapping around the top of her swollen head, physically traumatized by the brutality unleashed by Legion and mentally traumatized by the actions of Hurse.
Though no words are heard it’s evident by their flapping lips and numerous gyrations that Lukas Montgomery and Damion Sommers are in the midst of hatching some type of plot. Sommers does little talking, just listening, following every word and gesticulation employed by the Blacklist member. They’ve picked the most secluded spot imaginable, standing in one of the hollowed out trailers in the loading area, in order to have this conversation, ensuring that no one can hear what’s being said.
The engine shuts off…the car doors fly open…and the celebration commences in the parking lot…A shindig thrown by “The Icon” Orlando Cruze….a festivity attended by “The Scarlet Socialite” Taylor Chase…and an event highlighted by the World Heavyweight Championship affixed to Chase’s chest.
Orlando: Tonight’s the night, Babe.
In an act of true chivalry, Orlando opens the door for Taylor to exit and guides her from the backseat of the car by way of gripping her hand.
Orlando: The biggest night of both our careers.
A celebratory kiss finds its way onto the back of Tay-Tay’s knuckles….One that actually results in her face turning the scarlet shade of the dragon tattoo on her lower back.
Tay-Tay: Tonight, we take it all back. All the control.
Taylor grabs Orlando by the back of the neck and drags him in to a kiss on the collar.
Tay-Tay: I’ll stand out there as the World Heavyweight Champion…
Orlando: And I’ll be right by your side, as the PRESIDENT of the IWC.
Tay-Tay: Let the good times roll.
Hand in hand Tay-Tay and Orlando march…a triumphant gait to their step as they move towards the Manhattan Center.
Comeau: Taylor Chase and Orlando Cruze are here, and apparently they heard the good news from Mr. D.
Kozlov: That news will not be good in the long run. These two should have stayed away from the building tonight.
Comeau: Why?
Silence.
Comeau: Why?
Prolonged silence.
At Upping the Ante cameras spent entirely too long in the bathroom…which is only fitting since most of the humor in the IWC…is of the potty variety…anyway, tonight’s Riot will be no different than the pay-per-view, because again we’re in the ‘facilities.’ Why? Because the ever so captivating and controversial Simon Cagero has just entered and is in the process of tentatively approaching the numerous stalls aligned at his side.
Simon: Dean?
He knocks at the first stall and then listens for an answer. All he can hear is the sound of scrubbing though, prompting Cagero to get bold…not much of a stretch for him…and to push the door ajar, revealing Billy Mayne in his janitorial uniform within, scrubbing away at a toilet.
Mayne: Hey…I’m working here!
With a groan Simon closes the stall door to give Billy his privacy.
Simon: Dean…where the fucks ya be?
Is that you, Simon?
The question filters out from one of the closed stall doors.
Simon: Who do you think it is, Lionel Richie? Of course it’s me, bitch…now open up.
The door tentatively opens to reveal that very same fan in attendance front row during the Cagero versus Haze match…the one who snapped a picture of Simon and Lois Prince celebrating together.
Simon: Did you send it?
Dean: Sent the picture to your e-mail…feel free to do with it what you want.
Simon: Excellent…excellent…good work….
Simon goes to close the door…but not quick enough.
Dean: Ahem.
He’s forced to acknowledge the outstretched and snapping fingers.
Simon: Ugh.
A fifty is withdrawn from Simon’s pocket and slapped into the hand of the giddy amateur photographer.
Whitman: AH-HA!
Simon’s heart leaps into his throat when he hears Whitman ALMOST finding him collaborating with the man he obviously paid to take a few pictures of he and Lois together. The door is slammed shut and Cagero spins around, pretending to be fixing his zipper.
Simon: Ah…feel ten pounds lighter.
Whitman: I knew my exhaustive search would yield results.
Simon: Been looking for me?
Whitman: No….I’ve been looking for Lois…Where have you stashed her?
Simon: I gave her a six pack of Bud Light, my room key and a gift card to Fredrick’s of Hollywood to get her all ready for our sensational night together.
Whitman: Good merciful heavens!
As if he couldn’t feel anymore sick…now his stomach felt as if it was violently churning like homemade butter in a ye old English community.
Simon: Ha…I wish…Relax P-Man. I believe in wooing my prey. I like to give it time instead of just hopping between the sheets and pumping a lady full of my protein shake.
Whitman: I hate to be the bearer of bad news, Mr. Cagero, but I’m afraid Lois is off….
Simon: Oh yeah, Lois is the perfect lady to help me release some jizum juice AND get me out of that whole ‘slave for a day’ punishment that is suppose to happen on the first show of 2014.
All the information hits Whitman like a train going 85 miles per hour around a sharp curve….okay…that was uncalled for….Anyway, Clarence is hit by this info dump and hit hard. Though he learns that Simon is intent on using Lois to get him out of being Taylor Chase’s slave on the first edition of Riot!, 2014, but the paramount revelation is that Simon has yet to bed Lois. Whitman couldn’t feel anymore relieved….though his stomach is still acting up like a possessed doll in a Chucky flick.
Whitman: So….
Simon: Yes-yes, go put your cork in Lois, hold her over for me until I’m ready to shatter her cervix. Besides, I‘m already meeting up with two other members of Kitty‘s congregation for some ‘bible study.’
Whitman: I must protest, Mr. Cagero.
The phone in Simon’s hand is paid much more attention than the pleas of the X-Class Champion.
Simon: Relax, there’s more than enough rehymenated chicks to go around, P-Man.
Whitman: But Lois is….is….is….oh heavens….
Hands move to Whitman’s gut, which becomes a very unstable environment.
Whitman: I’m going to be ill.
Before he can finish broadcasting his affection for and ownership of Lois, Whitman scrambles into the nearest stall. The toilet scrubbing Billy looks up just in time to see Whitman doubling over him and opening his mouth to unleash flood of vomit.
Mayne: NOOOOO!!
Like a dog….a quadrupedal Legion crawls through the backstage corridor. Clearly he’s suffering from dozens of injuries that have a cumulative debilitating effect upon his body. A stack of crates are the only thing that provide support for his mangled physique, employing them to at the very least to pull himself up to a knee, managing to elevate his upper body. His finger slowly slip under his mask, pulling it back to reveal the mask beneath it…the mask of Executioner.
Executioner: Grrrr….
It suddenly becomes obvious to those who follow the bouncing ball and sing along, that Executioner took it upon himself to the final Legion impersonator….since he couldn’t find Mr. Gaunt to get him to compromise, his intent was to prevent a beating at the hands of the Blacklist, but ultimately that’s exactly what he walked into.
Fancy meeting you here.
Instinctively Executioner quickly covers his already masked face with another false face….the disguise reserved for Legion. He promptly turns to exude all the menacing qualities of the Black Crusade member, only to exude all the cowardly qualities of the denying Peter of biblical lore.
Ba’al crouches at his side, hands interlocked behind his back and presumably hiding a weapon there.
Executioner: Grrr….GRRRR!
His arms flail through the air, trying to make it apparent to Ba’al that he is NOT the actual Legion.
Ba’al: I’ve been waiting a long time for our paths to cross, Legion.
Executioner: Grrr….grrrr…
Although he speaks only in growls…they are obviously panicked grows…the quiver in his throat more than a little detectable. And the quiver only becomes more pronounced when the blade ring of Ba’al comes into view.
Ba’al: Shall we begin then?
Executioner: GRRRR!!
Leeland Gaunt’s surroundings are nothing more than dense layers of shadows…meaning a description isn’t necessary or wouldn’t be all that interesting. He sits upon a large antique wooden chair and overlooks the hundreds of notes scattered across the table before him. Eventually his armless spectacles are removed from the tip of his nose in order to look up from all the poor penmanship to the faces of those who eagerly anticipate his response. Silence. Mr. Hush, and Al watching with bated breaths and anxiously twiddling fingers.
Mr. Gaunt: So in all that time the three of you managed to find absolutely nothing?
They grow nervous, save for Silence.
Silence: Not true….I did find this.
A mangled…water logged My Pet Monster doll is thrown onto the table, saturating the notes.
Silence: It was stuffed behind a water heater.
Mr. Gaunt: And how is this relevant?
Silence: It isn’t….I just thought it was cute.
Another face palm moment if there ever was one….this face palm taking the form of an eye lid rubbing.
Mr. Gaunt: Mr. Lord of Flies HAS to have a fear….
Al: THE NIGHT IS YET YOUNG, PERHAPS THERE IS STILL TIME TO DISCOVER….
Mr. Gaunt: No…we’ll regroup and tackle this problem again at the End of the Year Celebration when our minds are a bit fresher and our spirits rejuvenated. For now, we will concentrate efforts elsewhere….
Damion: Can you believe what Robin and Hurse did to Legion? They made the Black Crusade look like a bunch of idiots…And so did the Blacklist…man, they really made Legion look like a tool….And the Mega-Faces….they tried to take Legion out…
Gaunt perks up in his chair and motions towards the door leading into the Black Crusade’s private sanctum. The doorknob is twisted by Silence, opening it slightly to reveal Sommers pacing back and forth just outside, gabbing obnoxiously loud into his cell-phone…Worse yet, it’s one that is not hand-held, speaking into a headset…which means it’s even MORE obnoxious.
Damion: Oh yeah…the Mega-Faces, Brooks and Hurse, the Blacklist….who would have figured the three would in a roundabout way work in collusion to bring the Black Crusade down tonight. And you want to know what’s even more funny…the Black Crusade hasn’t done a damn thing about it…they’ve just sat on their hands and watched themselves be made fools of. It’s hysterical.
Silence wants to speak up but bites her tongue at the behest of her leader.
Damion: Wonder what they’re all going to do later tonight…heard Hurse and Brooks are gonna play a part in that handicap match against the Blacklist and the Mega-Faces…should be interesting to say the least.
At last Leeland orders the door to be closed…..albeit discreetly. Once Silence has followed orders, the camera can remain fixated on a single target, Damion and the headset around his ears…connecting to a totally non-existent cell-phone.
You know what’s creepy…Brittany Lohan…but you want to know what’s even more creepy…the smile on her face. A smile that isn’t even removed by the puppet and the puppeteer who linger in her presence. The ventriloquist exudes no smiles, but most agitated of expressions….which is easily explained given the latest fashion exhibited by Sparkles. The puppet is now adorned in a big curly afro with a gaping bald spot, and an even bigger mustache, with an even more enormous pot belly…looking exactly like a miniature and slightly more fuzzy Ron Jeremy.
Sparkles: It’s like I rubbed a magic genie lamp or something…and instead of masturbatory fluids popping out…I get my own Barbara Eaton.
Okay, that did effect the smile on Lohan’s face, but doesn’t remove it.
Greyson: Good lord, Sparkles…the lawsuits…think of the lawsuits.
Sparkles: The only thing I’m thinking about right now is the movie I’d like film with Lohan here…I already know how it would start…with me showing up to put some ink in her fax machine…
Greyson: Is there even such a thing as fax machine repair guys anymore…or fax machines?
Lohan: Okay, you know what, I’m not here to be the subject of your porn film fantasies.
Sparkles: Way too late for that…Already picturing Cassidy Haze serving as my fluffer…ie the chick who makes sure my pubes are…
Lohan: I know what a fluffer is…
She chokes back her vomit.
Lohan: And what Unity should realize is that I’m going to do whatever it takes to assemble the best team in the history of wrestling…individuals who follow the same walk of life as myself….Non comformers who don’t bow down to the fans and have the courage to do whatever it takes, in spite of whomever it may piss off, to get the ‘W.’ That’s why I’ve summoned the two of you here, so I could inform the world whom Cassidy and I have chosen for Team Dark Legacy at the End of the Year Special….
Sparkles: Really? Has nothing to do with looking at my furry pecs?
Lohan: No….you’re here to capture the moment when I announce the team that will slaughter Unity, and prove that their group of do gooders are a hindrance rather than a help to Taylor Chase. I’m proud to announce that standing beside me at the End of the Year Special will be not only my pupil Cassidy Haze, but the End Effect of Rain, Jackson Adams and Brandy Danielle…But also…joining Dark Legacy will be Taylor’s own sister….Ashley Marie Chase…
Brittany turns to the camera, but isn’t addressing it.
Lohan: Yes, Taylor…You’re sister is part of Team Dark Legacy…she believes in OUR way….and deep down…I know you still do too.
Before Lohan can continue her attempt at manipulation her body is manipulated into an awkward position via a spear from Alana Star.
Alana: You blue eyed bitch!
The spear is delivered with such force and aggression from Alana that it actually picks Lohan up and off of her feet, carrying her into the wall. She’s driven against the plaster with such force that it knocks all air out of Brittany’s lungs and finally removes the smile from her face.
Upon overcoming her shock, Lohan begins to deliver repeated forearms across the upper back of Star while Alana directs shots to Brittany’s ribs. She then stands up, grabs Brittany by the bangs and whips the back of her skull into the wall. A small splatter of blood is left across the plaster’s surface, and now bruises are left across Lohan’s cheeks by the fists of Alana.
Alana: You tried to take my career…you tried to cripple me….
It seems like an eternity but security finally intervenes, charging in and grabbing Alana’s arms, pinning them to her sides, so that she can be dragged back away from the woman she wishes to rip apart. A stunned Lohan watches wide eyed as Alana is pulled off of her. She tries to react but finds herself detained by security as well.
Lohan: You stupid little whore…you have no idea what you’re/…
Alana: I know EXACTLY what I’m doing…
Eyes turn to the camera and away from Lohan.
Alana: Team Unity….if you need partners at the End of the Year Special/…look no further than the Star Chylde.
http://i413.photobucket.com/albums/pp220/Hurse/matt-7.png>
“MONSTER“
Predictably the crowd releases every bit pint up fury upon the Blacklist, the trio that has created so much unrest amongst not just the fans, but the roster this evening. The curtains part, and through them passes Mika Kozlov, Aaron Harrison, and Lukas Montgomery, who happens to be holding the Evolution Championship on behalf of this terrifying trio. The abuse of the championship, and of the power that comes with the GM role makes the crowd all the more vocal in their ferocity. But the Blacklist, save for Montgomery, remain emotionally detached from the crowd’s reactions. They are focused and single minded in their ascension to the ring.
Comeau: Thank the good God almighty, the main event is here and the night is almost over.
Kozlov: Are time together draws to an end? How unfortunate. I thought were becoming fast friends.
Comeau: Want to add me on Facebook?
Kozlov: No.
Comeau: Okay then. Anywho we’ve got a champions versus champions match. As Porno Lad and TPKid representing the Tag Team Champions collide with the Blacklist representing a joint Evolution Champion. This should be a dynamic handicap bout this evening.
Kozlov: If by dynamic, you mean an absolute slaughtering.
Comeau: Why am I not surprised that you equate everything to some type of slaughter or massacre?
The three individuals within the ring continue to exude a particularly menacing aura as they await the arrival of the Tag Team Champions. That wait isn’t long becomes the Backstreet Boys provide a family friendly rendition of Porno Lad’s intro them, and the curtains part for the arrival of TPKid and the Original Prankster.
Kozlov: Cannot believe these two would actually come out here knowing what they’re in store for.
Comeau: Well….this is ALL part of Porno Lad’s plan apparently. Several weeks ago, Lad, TPKid and several others vowed that they would take out the Blacklist and the Black Crusade, and this is the culmination of all that meticulous plotting.
Kozlov: Meticulous? Wasn’t this match all but thrown together for ratings purposes?
Comeau: That too.
Kozlov: And I hardly think these Mega-Faces will gain any extra ratings? Though what their faces look like after the match has concluded will be impossible for viewers to look away from.
The Backstreet Boys continue to provide the vocals to usher forth the champs….but it’s only Porno Lad who steps through the curtains in his obnoxiously colorful shirt with a regurgitated upbeat slogan that would even make Hogan or Cena roll their eyes. The shirt only remains on Porno Lad’s bod for a while though, because he stops at the mid way point of the ramp and begins to tear it down the middle. The Blacklist watches on as the fabric is ripped ever so slightly, Lad only stopping when he remembers that the shirt is a prototype AND a collector’s item, meaning it should remain in pristine condition. But he at the very least has captured the fixation of the Blacklist, meaning they don’t even notice TPKid sliding into the ring behind them….not until it’s too late.
Harrison is the first to turn around and receives the top of a bat to his ribs, doubling him over. TPKid then steps in and drives the bat into the side of Aaron’s face, knocking him to the ring.
Comeau: Porno Lad and TPKid just managed to set up the Blacklist.
Kozlov: That’s not very PG of them.
Comeau: No it isn’t, but this is about survival for the Tag Team Champions.
Mika and Montgomery are on top of TPKid before he can employ the bat any further, grabbing the weapon and trying to tear it out of his clutches while multitasking via boots to the ribs. Porno Lad slides into the ring at this point, grabs Kozlov by her shoulder, spins her around by the wrist and drags her into his shoulders. He hoists Mika up, grabs her by the back of the head and delivers the FU style DVD. The back of Kozlov’s head and shoulders impact the canvas and Lukas follows suit. The distraction posed by Porno Lad causes him to drop his guard in regards to Kid, who retakes control of his bat and swings it into Montgomery’s ribs, bringing him down to his knees.
TPKid then throws the bat to Porno Lad and points at Mika, who has utilized the ropes to drag herself up to her feet. Kid pantomimes swinging the bat and his partner can definitely tell what his gestures are implying…hence why Lad’s face contorts into a mask of indignation. He ultimately throws the bat aside and shouts something at Kid.
Porno Lad: No…we’re not dark Sting style faces here…..TPKid…that type of edginess will cost us so many merchandizing opportunities…and I REFUSE to wear mascara.
Kid sighs…but doesn’t feel the need to argue with the misguided Prankster…instead he suddenly feels the urge to dash across the ring and nail a lariat to Montgomery’s throat, sending him flipping up and over the ropes to the outside of the ring. At that exact same time Porno Lad darts towards Mika and delivers a clothesline to her throat as well, leading to identical results. Kozlov flips up and over the cables. The wholesale mugging of the Blacklist has got the crowd all pumped up and the Tag Team Champions clearly excited as they back to the center of the ring trying to further rally the people, which requires little work at all.
Kozlov: I’m ALMOST surprised by this.
Comeau: In spite of this being a three on two handicap match, Kid and Lad are holding their own against the Blacklist.
Kozlov: Mostly because of their disgusting guerrilla warfare tactics.
The showboating is about as much as Harrison can endure. He slides into the ring and rushes right at the Tag Team Champions only to be caught with a double hip toss. But his legs fall over the arms of Lad and Kid, who hold him up by the creases of his knees and elbows. Just as Montgomery slides back into the ring, the Tag Tea Champions charge Harrison crotch and rear-end first like a battering ram into Lukas’ chest. They throw Aaron right into his family member, resulting in the two spilling through the ropes and crashing to the outside of the ring.
Comeau: And Porno Lad and TPKid continue to hold their own.
Porno Lad then scrambles forward into the ropes, grabs the top one and waits for both men to stand up on the outside of the ring. Once he has them in position, Porno Lad leaps over the top rope, lands on the apron, then hops off of it in totally anticlimactic fashion and ultimately rushes forward into a diving double shoulder block, removing Harrison and Montgomery from their feet.
Comeau: A whole lot of build up for nothing there.
Kozlov: From what I gather, Porno Lad is quite intent on using only the five moves of doom from multiple iterations.
After watching his partner go ‘high risk,’ Kid turns back to the center of the ring and receives a kick right to his knee. Mika has the trailer park denizen kneeling and his head in her clutches. She drops down and drags Kid’s nose into her raised knee, connecting with a face buster.
Kid’s head snaps back and then Mika delivers a step up enzugari to the back of her kneeling adversary’s head. To the canvas Kid collapses while Kozlov backs into the ropes, waiting for her opposition to stir. The moment TPKid TRIES to get up, Mika dashes across the ring, leaps into the air and double stomps him right to the chest. She then lunges forward and slaps the outstretched hand of her partner, Harrison having managed to overcome the shots with the bat…shots he’s about to get some vindication for.
Harrison leaps over the top rope and lunges into a Mutah style elbow drop right to the Tag Team Champion’s chest.
Kozlov: The inevitable.
Comeau: Indeed…TPKid and Porno Lad could only hold out for so long against this three on two advantage.
Kozlov: Surprised they got as much offense as they did.
TPKid starts to stir…especially when he has the heel of Harrison’s cowboy boot wedged to his eyes and grated back and forth across the pupil. TPKid tries to push the boot away and referee Fitzpatrick tries to talk some sense into the monster by threatening to disqualify him. But Harrison is the one with all the power this evening…and as thus he doesn’t adhere to the official’s demands.
He lifts his boot and stomps down ever so gruesomely into Kid’s face, causing the Champion to sit up palming his forehead. Harrison then lunges into a forearm strike between his kidneys then rolls across the ring and tags out to a fresh Montgomery.
Lukas slides through the ropes and is climbing them at this point, stepping up the cables in reverse. He stands up on the middle rope and waits as Harrison heaves TPKid up into a scoop slam. The Face’s back collides with the canvas and his legs are then held up and stretched to his sides in a wishbone fashion to entirely expose his crotch to the diving head butt delivered by Montgomery.
Comeau: Now why do these three have to exploit tactics like these when they’ve already got an unfair advantage?
Kozlov: Because their the Blacklist, and they do what they please. Haven’t we already covered that multiple times this evening?
Comeau: Probably. Alcohol destroys brain-cells and can drastically effect one’ s short term memory mind you.
Though Kid’s crotch is probably enflamed with pain, he’s still able to stand, at least when forced to his feet by Harrison. Aaron hoists him up and drops him down with an atomic drop onto his knee. But he doesn’t instantly release Kid from his calamity…because Montgomery swoops in behind the kneeling Harrison, lunges into the air and connects with a dropkick right on point to Kid’s face.
TPKid collapses to his back and then Harrison makes his exit, pretending to care about the rules of this match. From his sprawled position, Kid is unable to do much in the way of fighting back, though he really needs to ward off the man who now has hold of his legs. Montgomery turns so that his back is aimed towards his corner and so that he can reach out and tag the hand of Mika.
He then drops back and catapults TPKid towards the ropes into a forearm strike from Harrison delivered from his position on the apron. The Champion falls back and finds the small of his back arched over the creases of Montgomery’s elevated knees. At that exact same time Mika leaps over the top rope and then lunges into the air, hitting ANOTHER double stomp right to Kid’s stomach.
Kozlov: Look at how went these three work together. This is not just a team, this is a family, a family that knows each other so very well.
A handful of hair is used to pull TPKid along to his knees where a big slap connects to his cheek. His sideburns are then snatched hold of, and his face is turned so that he can look up into the smile on Mika’s lips.
Mika: Listen stinky…the Blacklist is through with your meth making antics and your excessively hairy armpits…
Before she can finish throwing around insults, she finds her own body thrown into the air. One half of the Mega-Faces stands up, heaves Mika up into the air in a scoop slam position and is about to drop her only to have the snake like Mika slither right out of his clutches. She lands behind him, spins Kid around and delivers a boot to the ribs that doubles him over. She then places him in a butterfly lock, perhaps on the verge of delivering the Dos-Vi-Dania, but that doesn’t happen.
TPKid spins out of position for the DDT, turns to face Kozlov, grabs her wrist and drags her into a short arm lariat. But Mika ducks, slipping around behind her opponent, wedging hands to his spine and shoving him forward into the ropes. The moment his chest meets the cables, Harrison grabs him by the back of the head, drops down from the apron and snaps Kid’s throat back off the ropes.
He then goes staggering back into Mika, who lunges into the air and dropkicks him between the shoulder blades.
TPKid cannot stop his forward momentum, which carries him into the ropes and then through them. Like a cat, Kid is able to land on his feet…but in retrospect it probably would have been better to just go down.
The moment his boots hit the mats, Montgomery and Harrison deliver a simultaneous shoulder tackle to his ribs, pushing him like a tackling dummy around the ringside area and ultimately spine first into the steel steps.
Comeau: The three on two advantage continuing to serve to the detriment of the Mega-Faces.
Kozlov: Did you expect anything less? These ‘faces’ had it coming for this insolent behavior. Like the mighty Robert Mugabe, the Blacklist will crush this uprising.
It feels like Kid’s kidneys have imploded after the dangerous impact with the stairs, bringing him to his knees, his body giving up on him. Though he’s not permitted to remain in this state, given no recovery time as he’s pulled to his feet and into the ring. The moment he rolls to the center, getting a knee beneath him, in charges Mika, who steps off that knee in order to deliver a shining boot to the side of her opponent’s face.
Kid twists down to the mats, lying there and flopping like a fish while Mika crawls across knees to her corner, slapping the hand of Harrison. Aaron enters and then crouches in anticipation, stomping his foot several times.
Comeau: And things just keep getting worse.
Kozlov: What’s the old saying? Things only get worse before they get better? No…in this case…things only get worse before they get worse.
Nicolai’s skewering over the old saying is particularly true in this case as Harrison lunges forward and nails a deadly shuffle side kick to the temple of TPKid, putting him once again on his back.
Harrison stands over his opponent, shaking his head then turning his judgmental eyes to the screaming Porno Lad.
Harrison: Do you see what you’re misguided heroism has done, Ethan? It’s cost you one friend tonight, and now it’s about to cost you another.
As if on cue, Montgomery is throwing the tarp hanging from the apron into the air to clear a path for his hands to reach beneath the ring and drag a table into play.
Kozlov: You’re about to think that Johnny Dollar got off light this evening.
Comeau: Now a TABLE coming into play? What are the Blacklist gonna do next?
Kozlov: You need no psychic abilities to figure that one out.
The table is erected into position and after having any debris swiped from its surface, Montgomery motions that it’s befitting of TPKid’s banquet of suffrage.
Harrison pulls Kid along and prepares to give him a feast of splinters, throwing his near lifeless body through the ropes. He then reaches out and tags the outstretched hand of Montgomery, who doesn’t even have to enter the ring, his opponent conveniently on the apron beside him.
Lukas steps across the apron and over the head of TPKid, beginning to heave him up into the cradle piledriver off the apron and through the table.
Comeau: Haven’t we seen enough piledrivers through tables in recent weeks?
Kozlov: One more never hurts.
Comeau: I would beg to differ if it didn’t mean I’d end up going through a table too.
Many fans squeal as they recall what happened to Johnny Dollar earlier in the evening and prepare to see TPKid suffer an identical fate. But Kid won’t be a victim. He drops back to his feet upon the apron and then stands up, shockingly holding Lukas over his shoulders in position for the Alabama Slam.
Comeau: It’s gonna be Montgomery going through the wood!
Kozlov: Shameful.
Before he could put Lukas through the table and get the biggest pop of the night, TPKid is forced to drop Montgomery to the canvas behind him thanks to the interference of Harrison. Lukas is dropped but Aaron is caught, right under Kid’s arm as he drops to the outside and spikes Aaron’s back against the apron with a side slam.
Kozlov: Harrison taking the punishment to protect his family.
Comeau: Side slam right against the apron.
Kid lands on his feet outside the mats then turns just as Lukas dives off the apron and catches him to the forehead with a diving knee strike. The shot sends TPKid spinning into the table he was on the verge of going through moments ago, falling across its surface.
He looks rather disorientated yet manages to keep his feet under him…which again serves to the detriment…but this time to the detriment of Montgomery.
Lukas rushes across the mats and gets caught by the ankle before ultimately falling with a drop toe hold face first into the surface of the table. His skull bounces back and then he reflexively goes twisting onto the surface of the wood, now stretched across it.
Though TPKid would normally take advantage of putting Lukas through the wood, he turns down the chance in order to do something far more wise, tagging out to Porno Lad. And that’s just what he’s about to do.
The Trailer Park Kid slides his battered torso into the ring and drags it towards his partner, Porno Lad anxiously anticipating the tag, pacing in his corner with his arm stretched as far as it will go. But just before he can reach out and slap the twiddling fingers of his partner, TPKid’s leg is grabbed and he’s dragged back to the center of the ring by a recovered Harrison.
Aaron then lifts up on the leg in order to send his opponent rolling over backwards. Once the co-holder of the Tag Titles is on his feet, Harrison looks to put him down with yet another shuffle side kick. But TPKid catches the inbound boot mere inches from his jaw then performs an inside leg trip. Aaron is the one who goes down, falling to his back as Kid now interlocks the legs, rolls him to his stomach and drops down into the step over crossface.
Comeau: TPKid taking a page out of Porno Lad’s incredibly limited repertoire.
Kozlov: How come I have STILL not been supplied a hat in which to upchuck into?
The submission may impress..and offend…Porno Lad…but it has little effect on Harrison, who has no true pain receptors remaining in his body. He crawls across the ring at this point, dragging TPKid closer and closer to the Blacklist corner and further and further away from his partner.
It suddenly dawns on Kid what’s happening, but it’s too late, Aaron is already reaching out and slapping the hand of Mika, tagging her back into this match. She leaps over the top rope and then leaps into the air, going for the double stomp on Kid but finding her boots colliding with Harrison’s kidneys. Luckily for the Tag Champ, he rolled out of the way in the nick of time, leading to great misfortune for the Evolution Title holder who moments ago was beneath him and is now ailing from the stomp to the small of his back.
Kozlov has no time to even feign remorse, turning to face Kid and then rushing right at him only to for her opponent to turn into water filtering right through her fingers. Kid rolls under the mitts of his opponent and then dives out of said roll into a tag to Porno Lad.
Comeau: And here comes the house on fire.
Kozlov: If Porno Lad and Kid win this match, I WILL set fire to this building.
As one would expect the fans are unglued, watching as Porno Lad grabs the top rope and pulls himself over into a diving shoulder block to the inbound Mika. The Blacklist member is taken to the canvas and Porno Lad is lunging up to his feet.
He stands just as Harrison charges in with a wild right hand that Porno Lad ducks, catching the small of his opponent’s spine to his shoulder. He heaves Harrison up into the air, twists him and drives him down into the canvas with a modified back drop.
Porno Lad then pops up to his feet with an open palm raised high above his head. The hand lowers to his feet as he lowers his face towards Harrison.
Fans: You CAN’T SEE…
What they couldn’t see is Harrison’s boot launching into the air and catching Porno Lad’s temple.
The Original Prankster stands up and staggers back into the waiting clutches of Mika, who leaps onto her opposition’s back, wrapping arms around his neck as she establishes a sleeper hold.
All the while Harrison is dragging himself up with the use of the ropes, leaning against the turnbuckle a few feet away. That’s when Porno Lad turns, rushes across the ring and drives Mika back first into Harrison’s chest, causing her to break the sleeper and fall to her feet.
Porno Lad at first staggers before collecting himself and then charging at his prone opponents. He launches his boot right into a yakuza kick that fails to connect with Mika’s face, because Harrison pushes her down out of the way then turns his skull enough to avoid the shot to his skull as well. He hooks Porno Lad’s leg and then heaves him up into the air before ultimately dropping him spine first across his raised knee.
The leg trap back breaker has Porno Lad bellowing in pain…but he hasn’t felt agony as of yet….not until the Blacklist gets truly fired up.
Porno Lad flips over to his stomach, reaching for the swollen flesh across the small of his back. He slowly begins to stand up, feeling the ill effects of this handicap bout but refusing to stay down, even as Harrison stomps his foot and threatens to crush his skull via the shuffle side kick.
Just as Porno Lad gets his knees under him, Harrison prepares to put his boot to his jaw. He lifts his leg for the kick only to be caught by the ankle…not by Porno Lad. TPKid slips in behind Harrison, grabs the foot and then pushes it down towards the canvas, causing Harrison to go into a full spin. He turns all the way around and ultimately gets caught against Porno Lad’s shoulders.
The Original Prankster heaves the Blacklist member into the air in a fireman’s carry, steps across the ring towards the ropes and delivers the FU. Harrison doesn’t crash to the canvas, instead he goes flipping over the top rope and plummeting right into Montgomery and the table outside of the ring.
Fans: HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT!
Comeau: ANOTHER table coming into play tonight, but it wasn’t a member of the Tag Team Champions who went through it…Aaron and Lukas crashing through the wood.
Kozlov: This is not how this match was scheduled to proceed.
The fans are going absolutely bonkers and Porno Lad is feeing off their energy. He whips around to face a recovered Mika and points directly into her face.
Fans: YOOOOU!
Comeau: Never seen this out of Porno Lad before.
Kozlov: We see this out of Porno Lad on a weekly basis.
Comeau: Oh well…alcohol does destroy numerous brain-cells, and can drastically effect one’s short term memory.
First Mika glances to the outside of the ring where her teammates are strewn across the broken fragments of table, then adjusts her sights back to the finger point of doom. But it’s the eyes in the back of her head that play the most instrumental of roles. TPKid comes rushing in behind Kozlov, who side steps him in the nick of time, sending him charging along right into Porno Lad. The two bump skulls and Lad collapses to the canvas while Kid staggers back, gets caught around the neck and hit with the Mind Over Matter. The flip over cobra clutch buster has sent TPKid flopping to his back and lying in a comatose state.
All the while Porno Lad is dragging himself up to his feet just as Mika rushes in and throws a right hand only to have it blocked. Porno Lad then stands up and throws a right hand into Kozlov’s face….Mika staggers back and then throws another shot that is blocked…Porno Lad responding with a second blow.
He then hit’s a third and a fourth before grabbing Kozlov by the wrist and whipping her off across the ring. Mika bounces off, comes back in at Porno Lad and gets a boot to the face….wait…no…the Blacklist member ducks the arbitrary big boot and leg drop combination. She instead goes rushing into the ropes behind Porno Lad, who spins around, lunges into the air and connects with a diving shoulder block.
Down to the canvas goes Kozlov, who rolls across the ring, lunges to her feet and gets hit with another shoulder block.
Mika stands up and throws a wild swing at Porno Lad, who ducks, wedges a shoulder to Mika’s spine and then heaves her up into the modified back drop only to have Kozlov flip over his shoulder. She lands on her feet behind him, grabs Porno lad’s shoulder, spins him around and receives a big boot to the face, putting her down to the canvas.
Porno Lad then slaps his palms together and does a Hogan style ear cup taunt to gauge the crowd’s reaction.
Comeau: Looks like the big leg drop is coming. Can’t remember the last time we saw this.
Kozlov: I believe he delivered this exact same move at the pay-per-view.
Comeau: Oh…well…alcohol will do that to you. It can drastically effect one’s short term memory.
Just as it seems that Porno Lad is about to rush into the ropes and build momentum behind the leg drop, TPKid leaps in front of him…stopping his partner…Now he’s the one who insists upon dropping the leg…to prove just how big a face he can be. Porno Lad, who normally will not give the spotlight to anyone, steps back and lets Kid have this brief fling in the spotlight. He charges into the cables to captivate the millions only to have his momentum crushed by a shot from his very own bat between the shoulder blades. The fans react with indignation at the sight of Hurse standing at ringside, bat in hand and malice in eye.
Comeau: Hurse assaulting TPKid with the baseball bat…retribution for earlier tonight!
Kozlov: Turn the other cheek…I believe that’s a biblical term.
Comeau: One you managed to take completely out of context.
The shot from the bat goes unnoticed and leads to Kid staggering forward into Mika, who kips up in time to hit him with a boot to the ribs, followed by the Dos-Vi-Dania. Kid’s head cracks the very canvas that Mika is scrambling up from. She stands and capitalizes on Porno Lad’s distraction. The Original Prankster in the process of interrogating Hurse regarding his actions. But Hurse feels no need to explain himself to Porno Lad…he just watches with a twisted gleam in his eye as Mika rushes up behind Porno Lad, throwing a forearm at his back.
The mega face turns in the nick of time to block the inbound blow and begin to deliver punch after punch to Mika’s face, staggering her back….back towards the massive individual storming towards the ring with lights above his head either exploding into a cascade of sparks or changing to a blood red tint.
Kozlov: And here comes Legion…predictably.
Comeau: Predictably?
Mika finally rakes Porno Lad’s eyes in order to stop the multiple punches connecting with her jaw, blinding the Original Prankster and sending him spiraling to the canvas. Just as she starts to get excited she turns and finds herself mono a mono with the massive Legion, who has entered the ring with the most foreboding of stares directed straight to the smile on Kozlov’s face. She extends said face towards the masked man, puckering up for a kiss.
She’s not gonna get a smooch on the lips from the Black Crusade member…Instead its his boot that travels straight towards her mouth…but instead of hitting the kick on Kozlov…Harrison swoops in at the last second, forming a protective cocoon around Mika’s body and taking the kick straight to the back of his skull.
Kozlov: Such chivalry.
Harrison and Mika go down to the canvas with Aaron continuing to protect his precious Mika, now rolling her across the canvas and under the ropes to the exterior of the ring. After-all, there’s no reason for them to continue to be in the ring now that the bell is chiming…indicating you guessed it….another disqualification.
Comeau: That shuffle side kick to the back of the head…and that has just cost the Mega-Faces a potential win…getting the Champions disqualified.
Kozlov: Just like Legion got disqualified via the attack by Hurse mere moments ago. Don’t you just love how things intertwine around here?
The bell is chiming in the background and Hurse sees his opportunity, sliding into the ring and putting his boots to the body of Porno Lad…stomping away at his worn physique. One individual who has had enough of this, is Katelyn Buehler, who in spite of massive head trauma, bolts down the ramp and slides into the ring, pouncing on her former mentor. A dropkick nails Hurse to the temple, knocking him away from the Prankser and sending him rolling in the direction of the N.H.B Champion.
Comeau: Katelyn! Katelyn Buehler to the rescue. She’s come out here to vanquish the very man who assaulted her a few minutes earlier.
Legion looks down at the prize dropped at his feet…swooping in and snatching hold of Hurse’s bangs. He drags him up and delivers a quick kick to the gut, doubling him over. He then snaps Hurse up into the air, catches him by the throat and drives him down with a single shoulder power bomb into a choke slam combination.
Comeau: Hurse annihilated by Legion…payback for the Black Crusade’s leviathan.
The Blacklist regroups at ringside and are already backing up the ramp…having no interest in getting back into the ring. Instead they watch from the comfort of the ramp with giant smiles on their faces…even Harrison’s….as they witness Legion do exactly what they wanted him to do this evening….destroy all of their enemies. As Katelyn steps in to pulverize Hurse…she finds herself the recipient of a shuffle side kick so heinous it picks her up off of her feet and sends her flipping backwards…Legion an equal opportunity offender this evening.
Kozlov: And Katelyn gets a kick too…fairing no better than Hurse.
From the canvas TPKid is plucked, taken by the wrist and launched off into the ropes. He ricochets off and comes back into Legion, who throws him up into the Guiding Hand, an uppercut blasting him to the jaw with such force that teeth presumably go flying across the canvas.
Legion then turns his sights to Porno Lad….the man who took out his doppleganger earlier in the evening. His intent was that all that mattered….hence why he finds himself equally as victimized as all the rest by the N.H.B Champion. A knee doubles Lad over and his head is eventually dragged into the clutches of this massive overlord of aggression. He heaves Porno Lad up onto his shoulders then plants his skull viciously into the canvas via a DDT.
Comeau: Legion has managed to cripple all four of these individuals tonight…taking out Porno Lad…Trailer Park Kid….Hurse…AND Katelyn Buehler in one fell swoop.
The N.H.B Champion obviously wants to add another member of the Blacklist to his list of those who have received a light-tube crucifixion, putting them in the same hospital alongside Desmond Drake. But neither Mika, Harrison or Montgomery give them that opportunity by staying out of the ring.
Comeau: Somehow the Blacklist has managed to manipulate Legion into doing their bidding after-all….crushing their enemies tonight and for all intensive purposes giving the Blacklist a night off. They remained true to their words.
Kozlov: It’s so nice when things go accordingly.
The Blacklist continue to smirk diabolically as they step through the curtains, Mika holding up her I-Phone and streaming some video. They leave behind an unemotional Legion, standing over the pile of bodies strewn around the canvas at his feet.
The curtains can be seen closing behind the backs of Mika, Montgomery and Harrison as this particular segment of the show is filmed via Kozlov’s I-Phone…streaming directly through the building’s broadcast system.
Mika: Are we good…or are WE GOOD!?!
The gloating aggravates the crowd…and that aggravation intensifies when the Blacklist goes on spouting off at the mouths.
Harrison: The Blacklist is anything if not meticulous. We dangled the meat before the mouth of an animal, and got Legion to bite…and like vultures…now the Blacklist will come in to feast on the carrion.
The trio simultaneously lick their lips.
Montgomery: Don‘t worry, loyal Blacklist followers, we‘re not here JUST to brag…We‘re here to make an announcement regarding that 6 on 6 Tag Team Elimination Match at the End of the Year Special….or more accurately, to announce the participants who will comprise both Team Chase and Team Cagero.
Lukas is so smug he can barely even continue.
Mika: Representing Team Chase….Obviously our World Champion, our precious Tay-Tay….
Harrison: And her partners in that elimination tag….the unstoppable Ba’al….
They give a second for it to sink in that World Champion Taylor Chase will team with the insidious Ba’al. But that’s only the rising action of this Fraytag arc.
Montgomery: Also as part of team Chase…..her brother in law and now co-holder of the Tag Team Titles…Gavin Taylor…
More rising action.
Mika:….aaaaannndd….
A drum roll is almost anticipated….and Mika feels very let down when she doesn’t hear one.
Harrison: Taylor’s very own half sister….Lilly Lyman….
Montgomery: But wait…there’s more…
Just get to the damned climax already.
Harrison: Because to make amends for my transgressions and egregious lapse in judgment these past few weeks….I’ve decided in order to truly repair the relationship between my Mika, and Taylor…and to unify this twisted but oh so loveable family…that the Blacklist will fill-out the rest of Team Chase.
There was the climax…and boy was it so not a let-down…Taylor Chase now FORCED to team with Montgomery, Harrison and Kozlov…three individuals who haven’t went out of their way to endear themselves to the World Champion.
Mika: That’s so thoughtful of you, Cowboy.
Harrison: Anything for my Mika.
Montgomery: The Blacklist family unifying with the Chase family….Can there be a stronger family not named Corleone?
Harrison: And in regards to our opponents at this ‘special.’
Mika: Oh give me, give me, give me…
She ‘feigns’ excitement.
Montgomery: Of course the opposing team will be captained by Simon Cagero….
Mika: Booo..
Harrison: And his partners….first….X-Class Champion, P Clarence Whitman III.
Mika: Yuck.
Montgomery: N.H.B Champion….Legion.
Mika: He sucks.
Harrison: And Legion will be teaming with someone who he got along with quite famously this evening…..Hurse.
Mika: What a snooze-fest.
Montgomery:….Plus, the Tag Team Champions, the Mega-Faces.
Mika: Yawn.
Harrison: And Katelyn Buehler.
Mika: Terrible….absolutely terrible.
Harrison: So there you have it….Team Chase will be the unstoppable unity of the Chase and Blacklist families…
Harrison’s arms wrap around throats, but not to snuff out life, instead to drag Mika and Montgomery into his sides.
Harrison: And our opponents….
Mika: WTE….WORSE TEAM EVER!
Montgomery: Will be the most dysfunctional family since the Mansons.
Harrison: Good luck.
Clearly the deck has never been more stacked in the favor of the Blacklist…pitting themselves and the World Champion, against a team comprised of individuals out to maim and massacre one another….which is exactly what they’ve already done this evening.
The crowd is agitated by what just happened in the ring, and are unsure if the next visual is supposed to drag them out of their funk….After -all, Mr. D doesn’t inspire happy-joy-joy feelings…But any sight is a welcomed improvement over the Blacklist and their manipulative tactics this evening. The fans also must bare in mind what has brought Mr. D here this evening…..getting them all the more excited once they realize that he’s headed towards the ring.
Kozlov: Does this fool actually intend to follow through with his insidious disruption of the Blacklist’s plans?
Comeau: Looks to me like that’s the case. Mr. D promised that he would make a major announcement regarding the Board of Director’s decision regarding Orlando Cruze, and we’re gonna see that announcement…presumably….next.
Kozlov: Hmmmm.
Mr. D acknowledges none of the staff lining the walls, even if they call out to get his attention. He has uncanny and unshakeable focus as he embarks towards the ring.
MOMENTS AGO
A still frame of Porno Lad hitting an FU that sends Harrison flying over the ropes and through Montgomery as well as a table.
Comeau: We’re back on Riot!, but right before the commercial break we witnessed a crazy three on two champions versus champions handicap match. And it looked like Porno Lad and TPKid were closing in on a victory.
Kozlov: Before the Blacklist demonstrated their brilliance yet again.
It seems like the Tag Team Champions may very well have a shocking win within their grasps before Mika finds herself clobbered to the jaw with a baseball bat swung by Legion. A bell chimes in the background, indicating that the match HAS to be thrown out via disqualification.
Comeau: Just before the match could possibly end with a victory for the Mega-Faces, Legion comes out of nowhere, vanquishes Kozlov, your cousin, with a bat, and then turned his focus on Porno Lad and the Trailer Park Kid.
Porno Lad pats Legion on the spine, misjudging his intent before receiving the Misery II. TPKid doesn’t fair any better, getting cracked under the jaw with a downright sickening kick.
Comeau: Then we found out that the Blacklist had arranged this whole assault…getting their enemies to destroy one another tonight, and giving them a cake walk to victory.
Kozlov: Only the Blacklist could exude such brilliance.
In the House, In a Heartbeat
It isn’t Mr. D who brings us back from commercial break, or a visual of the mangled bodies of Porno Lad and TPKid…The only man in the ring at the moment is the silver tongued golden boy of IWC lore…Orlando Cruze. His music begins to fade in the background as he stands direct center of the ring, microphone in hand and that trademark Iconic smile on his face.
Comeau: And we’re back live with Orlando Cruze in the middle of the ring. We saw him arrive just a few minutes ago….
Kozlov: A foolish move if there ever was one.
Comeau: Why do you keep saying that? This is a BIG night for the Icon, who seems to be in a celebratory mood, so why should he stay away from the building?
Kozlov: Hmmmm.
Comeau: Would you STOP doing that?
Kozlov remains intentionally vague in regards to his ominous warnings…but Orlando lays all his cards out on his table.
Orlando: Ladies and gentlemen, it’s so good to be back here in Manhattan…
Every nugget thrown by Cruze is gobbled up by the crowd.
Orlando: And it’s even better to say these words….Here is your WORLD HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION…’The Scarlet Socialite’….TAAAAAYYLLOOOR CHASE!!
A surprising amount of cheers are mixed in with the normal smattering of boos….creating quite the dynamic palate. The tapestry is Chase herself….and love her or hate, she covets the World Championship and the envy of millions the world over. Evident by the fact that her name has been on the lips of just about everyone this evening….all craving some type of relationship with the Scarlet Socialite. However, there’s only one man who she presently seeks a bit more than camaraderie with, and that’s the man who’s lips not only exalt her virtues, but are also great for kissing. She and Orlando embrace in a lip lock that has camera’s flashing throughout the sea of humanity. The moment the star crossed lovers go lip to lip, the fans leave their seats, showing their own brand of affection for the pair.
Kozlov: Again…..where is my puke hat? Is it so hard for people to follow a simple request?
Comeau: Around here…yes….yes it is….I’ve been asking for stronger barbiturates for weeks, and so far…nothing.
Kozlov: I need very strong narcotics to deal with what I’m seeing right now.
Comeau: A celebratory kiss between the woman who defied seemingly insurmountable odds at Upping the Ante to stand here before us tonight, the World Heavyweight Champion.
Kozlov: A situation she never would have been in had she a better taste in man.
Chase steps back and thrusts the belt over her shoulder…which already is adorned by the most fashionable red dress conceivable. The belt is replaced by a microphone that Orlando eagerly places in her vacant palm.
Tay-Tay: Thanks for the introduction, Sexy.
Orlando can’t figure out what he wants to do more, clap or blush, so he multitasks by doing both.
Tay-Tay: I know a lot of people are STUNNED to see me standing here tonight with this belt on my shoulder….Of course those are probably the same people who thought I was never going to win the Championship in the first place. But I continue to defy odds…I continue to surpass expectations….I continue to rise above the obstacles and all the haters. I continue to be the best…
In spite of being such a braggart the fans still endorse her and continue to feed her ego….Though said ego has been brought down to earth a bit over the past few weeks.
Tay-Tay: And what inspires me to be the best? What inspired me to go out there and fight in spite of the prospect of having my hands cuffed and my body mutilated by Aaron Harrison? I admit, part of it was indulging my own selfish ambitions…I like being the champ….I like having all this bling…I love the feeling it gives me…..Because, you know, it feeds my ego…and I have such a low self esteem to begin with….
Chase bats puppy dog eyes to a chuckles from Orlando and the fans.
Tay-Tay: There was another reason I went out there and killed myself against Harrison to retain this championship and keep him from getting his match with Orlando. Because….well…I STILL have something left to prove….to you people…and to this man.
Open palms extend towards an intrigued Cruze.
Tay-Tay: Over the past few weeks this glorious hunk of masculinity has been trying to become a better man, to exude all the qualiti4ies of a TRUE Icon…and well….monkey see, monkey do, I guess…though neither of us look anything like monkeys….not even adorable gibbons wearing a fez and a red bow-tie….Anyway, back to my point….Orlando’s determination to be a good person has rubbed off on me…I want to be a champion that you people can respect….that Orlando can respect.
Orlando: Babe, you got nothing to prove to me….
Tay-Tay: I don’t believe that, hot-stuff, I see the look in your eyes every time you see me standing here with the World Championship. In spite of the fact that you put this gold around my waist at the end of the pay-per-view, you still believe that you would make a more befitting World Champion. You try to hide it, but your eyes betray you. Deep down, you believe that no one can truly exude the qualities of what a World Champion should be…..But I’m going to change your mind, hot-stuff. I’m gonna remove any bit of doubt from your mind that I can be a World Champion who embodies all the beliefs this belt represents, and you hold so near and dear to your heart. I can be that champion…I know it…and YOU will know it.
Orlando: I know it already.
Tay-Tay: No….no you don’t…but one day….in the future…you will believe. And on that day we will stand side by side and chant as one….WE DID….
That won’t be tonight….because Taylor doesn’t even get the chance to chant it by herself…when some all too familiar intro music cuts her off in mid diatribe…music that belongs to the Royal Family. Without delay Christian and Rose Savior make their way to the ring with the crowd positively elated at the sight of them.
Comeau: This is gonna be tense.
Kozlov: There goes the party.
Orlando tries to transform himself into a human shield, but Tay-Tay won’t let him make that sacrifice, instead she stands at his side…remaining shoulder to shoulder…Icon and Starlet staring down Rising Phoenix and Queen of Thorns. The most tense of stare-downs commences as these two power couples of the IWC are juxtaposed against one another, all four dressed for a royal banquet as opposed to a nitty-gritty brawl. Words pack an equally as powerful punch as fists.
Christian: I’m sorry….are we interrupting something here?
Orlando doesn’t have to use words, it’s his stare that packs his punch.
Christian: Did we just poop the party?
Orlando’s eyes narrow on Christian’s carotid artery.
Christian: If we did…then I offer my most heartfelt apology. Not like either of you deserve to have such a royal and majestic occasion ruined, considering you would never, in a million years, consider upstaging others….in the midst of their title coronations….That would totally be unlike either one of you.
The cynicism is too thick to go unnoticed by even the densest individual. Both Chase and Cruze simultaneously realize that the method in which Taylor won the title, and the method in which the Icon interrupted the Twilight Zone that hallmarked Rose’s first appearance as World Champion…are simultaneously being referenced.
Christian: It would be downright criminal of the Royal Family to conduct themselves in such deplorable fashion.
The sarcasm is eventually replaced with a more serious tone.
Christian: Alright, enough of that…in the interest of total and complete earnestness…we didn’t come out here to rain on your parade. We’re not here to ruin this feel good vibe. In spite all our numerous transgressions committed against one another, Orlando and Taylor….Rose and I are here to support the two of you. We actually applaud your efforts to reform yourselves…to be better people….We know it’s not easy…We’ve been down that road….
For only a second Tay-Tay and Orlando take their eyes off the Queen and the Phoenix to exchange a perplexed glance.
Christian: You two coming to your senses is what is best for this company’s growth. And we’re not going to stand in the way of your personal evolutions….Which is why….now that we’ve settled this grudge that has lasted eons between us, Orlando, Rose and I have decided that it’s our best course of action to leave the Independent Wrestling Cartel…
Neither Chase nor Cruze were expecting to hear this….and they don’t exactly put up much in the way of an argument to Christian’s decree either.
Christian: I know I just said that we ‘settled’ this long standing rivalry between us, Orlando…but the truth is….we’ll never get along, and this company just isn’t big enough….and wouldn’t withstand an all out war between the Saviors, and the Icons. It would tear the place that Rose and I love with all our hearts to pieces, and we can’t live with that on our collective conscious. So to prevent that from happening, we’re going to do the right thing and walk away.
Orlando: That’s not what we want, Christian, we can find a way to coexist.
Christian: You know that’s a bold faced lie, Orlando…Don’t deceive yourself into believing that the two of us could ever be friends….We’re just incompatible…..And with you about to retake control of this company…to presumably take it down a path of virtue and honor…and Taylor now ready to represent the IWC as a World Champion of class…Rose and I cannot risk taking out two people who can actually effect the type of change in this industry we’ve been crying out for since day one. So we leave this company and it’s title in your more than capable hands…in the hopes that you WILL be the President and the Champion who will return respect to this business.
Rose: But Tay-Tay…Taylor…
Chase doesn’t back down or flinch as the woman who drove a knee into her temple at Upping the Ante, steps up right into her face.
Rose: If you…or your boy toy here….veer from that course….if you decide to once again turn the IWC into nothing more than a showcase for your ego…the Saviors will not be kept quiet…we will not sit on the sidelines…and we will be forced to act.
Tay-Tay sneers.
Rose: I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, Taylor. I saw your performance at Upping the Ante first hand….and in retrospect, I was impressed….impressed that your were willing to sacrifice so much in order to exude all the qualities you were just mentioning a few moments ago. But instead of supporting your personal growth and moral rebirth….I indulged my baser impulses and put my knee right to your temple.
She gestures between her exposed knee, jutting out from beneath her lavish dress and then to the temple of Chase, which still feels a bit sore.
Christian: And even though you were taking up the good fight, Orlando, against the Blacklist and embodying this change you’ve been talking about the past few weeks, I still went out there at Upping the Ante and tried to cripple you with the Singapore Cane…..
Rose: So you see…we can’t control ourselves…eventually…Christian and I….would end one of your careers…Which would be incredibly selfish of us…and ultimately lead to the detriment of this company. We cannot let that happen…we cannot be responsible for that.
Christian: So it pains us to do it….to walk away from a ring where we both spilt blood and captured titles…to walk away from fans who have supported us through their cheers or their boos….and the boys and girls in the back who aspired to learn as much from the Savior’s as possible to forge their own paths to success. But we’re not going to selfishly stand in the way of those young, and hungry up and comers…..
Rose: Taylor….Orlando….the only thing we have to left to say is….good luck….And whatever you do, for your own good…DON’T fuck this up.
The Saviors turn away from their mortal enemies, Taylor and Orlando watching with wide yet sullen eyes as Christian parts the ropes for Rose to step through them. Eventually the Phoenix and the Queen walk hand in hand from the mats to the ramp to the stage and to the curtains. But before they make their final curtain call…quite literally…both Savior’s turn and bow to the screaming and sorrowful fans.
Comeau: Thank you Rose and Christian Savior for everything…EVERYTHING you’ve done in this company. Thank you for helping our growth…thank you for all your sacrifices, both small and big. Best of luck to the both of you.
Kozlov: They won’t stay gone….Comeau….because Taylor and Orlando will not walk that moral path…they’ll go off the tracks, and then the Saviors will return to plunge this federation into full fledged anarchy.
Comeau: You’re such an upbeat fella.
Kozlov: I’m a realist…
Clearly this whole scene has not played out the way the fans were expecting…never having anticipated witnessing the departure of the Queen and the Phoenix for what may very well be the last time. Try as they may, Chase and Cruze can’t seem to get themselves back on track.
Orlando: Talk about making a sacrifice…one you will not regret Christian and Rose…
Tay-Tay: Yes…because the two of us WILL effect change in this company and this industry….starting with the World Heavy….
Mr. D: Alright, I’m not hanging out backstage any longer…
If anything could shake the fans from their despair…it’s the image of Mr. D storming through the curtains. Much like Tay-Tay, he gets quite an eclectic response.
Mr. D: This place is an absolute madhouse. I already had my nipples pinched by some woman in in fishnet stockings calling herself Cassidy something or other….and when I left my jacket unattended on a chair…I came back and found all these weird sigils drawn all over it….
He gives a visual of the jacket in question, turning to reveal the many symbols drawn across it.
Mr. D: And my time backstage has shown me that this place is in serious need of a stabilizing force. Unfortunately, Orlando, you’re the best option at the moment to provide that stability. So to confirm your suspicions, Cruze, and to let the worse kept secret in history out of the bag….I am here to announce that you are officially, once again, President of the IWC.
There is an explosive reaction and a smile brought to the face of both Tay-Tay and Icon alike.
Mr. D: But don’t get yourself too excited, Cruze. Because this is just on an interim basis. Try as I may….I just couldn’t get the board wholly on board with your reinstatement….Desmond Drake still has his supporters…and it’s those supporters who have lobbied for your reinstatement to be done on more of a TRIAL basis. You have until the time that Desmond is capable of returning from injury, to convince myself, and the board that you deserve to have all the powers of the Presidency returned to you….
Orlando’s smile is gone…and in it’s place is a look of utter determination…now given a new goal….Restoring order to the IWC…and restoring himself to the Presidency.
Orlando: You’re not going to regret this decision, Olek.
Mr. D: Don’t say it, prove it.
Orlando: Oh…I will…because in my first official act as President of the IWC….I’m announcing the forfeiture of my World Heavyweight Championship opportunity.
The crowd seems pleased by this statement…Orlando refuting the match he was FORCED into signing off on against Taylor several weeks ago.
Orlando: I think that’ll go a long way in convincing the Board that I’m a changed man….But beyond that, it also shows you something, Tay-Tay.
Her chin falls into his fingers, raising her breathtaking eyes to stare into his own.
Orlando: I wouldn’t sacrifice a title shot if I didn’t believe that you ARE the embodiment of everything I look for in a World Champion…and that you are capable of being a champion GREATER than even the Icon himself.
The emotion of the moment brings a tear to Tay-Tay’s eye…finding someone who truly does believe she can change.
Orlando: And my second act as President of the IWC is to announce that Aaron Harrison is hereby striped of his powers as General Manager.
An even greater reaction from the crowd, and bigger smile from the World Champion.
Orlando: Their reign of chaos ends and it ends right this very moment!
Even Mr. D seems enthused…finally seeing the Icon of old…a man willing to stand against injustice and impurity.
Mr. D: I think your announcements will go a long way in repairing your image, Cruze….but ummm….you didn’t give me time to inform you of yet another little caveat.
Orlando knows automatically that there will be absolutely nothing ‘little’ about said caveat.
Mr. D: The Board’s decision came at a price. They weren’t fully convinced that you could be trusted in this role without an advisor present to keep you in line….
Orlando: You’re kidding me? Didn’t they learn anything from the debacle with Desmond?
Mr. D: Apparently not…Anyway, Orlando, the latest individual they’ve brought in to be your overseer…well…he’s someone you’re quite familiar with….and who employed some swift legal maneuvering to land this position….
Before any further anticipation can build ‘King Zero‘ erupts through the speakers and the fans erupt as well. They watch with slacked jaws as Frankie Paradise makes his entrance…attired in his usual leather jacket and pants, but making up for his lack of professionalism with his power tie
Comeau: WHAT?
Kozlov: Frankie Paradise has been selected as Orlando’s NEW overseer?
Comeau: WHAT?
Kozlov: Orlando’s interim basis as President is being sorely tested by this latest revelation.
Comeau: WHAT?
Kozlov: Get over your shock already.
A microphone moves to Frankie’s lips but he’s forced to stop before he can get out a single word…the crowd’s rejection too overwhelming. But it’s mostly the rejection in Tay-Tay’s eyes that effects him so much.
Frankie: Ladies and gentlemen….you know me as Frankie Paradise…AKA…the pinnacle of awesomenicity…the monarch of badassery….the tyrant of tit twisting, panty raiding spectacularosity….But now you’ll know me as BOSS…
The crowd gets even more vocal and even more vindictive.
Frankie: Thanks to my mother…the most powerful lawyer on the planet…she was able to do some legal wheeling and dealing to ensure that I stand here today as the Icon’s handler.
Tay-Tay tries to calm Orlando down…TRIES. It’s like trying to cool down a nuclear reactor on the verge of imploding…hence why Mr. D has scurried backstage, leaving Frankie and Orlando to have it out.
Frankie: Before we get this working relationship going, Cruze…I just want to let you know, bro….no hard feelings for winning Tay-Tay’s heart. I’m happy that she’s happy. Anytime I see a smile on your face, Tay-Tay, it makes me feel all bubbly ….especially in areas that rhyme with jock and Venus.
If ever there was a moment that called for a face-palm, this was it…hence why Taylor’s eyes are buried in her hand.
Frankie: Tay-Tay….I’ve only ever looked out for your best interests….which is why I won’t stand in the way of that 5 on 5 Elimination Tag that was announced by Harrison a few minutes ago….I honestly believe that with the Blacklist on your side…instead of opposed to you….that you can be an unstoppable….unbeatable army…no…a family…And I wouldn’t mind being the Godfather of that family.
Tay-Tay: This is bullshit, Frankie.
Frankie: Nah…it’s the right thing to do…the right thing to do for you….I’m not standing in the way of that tag match at the End of the Year Celebration, and I’m not standing in the way of the funeral the Blacklist promised to end this show….
Paradise glances at his watch.
Frankie: Which is about to happen right about….NOW!
Orlando and Chase once again take their eyes off Frankie to gauge one another’s reactions. Orlando sees a picture of dismay, and Chase sees a picture of agony…why……cause Harrison swings a Singapore Cane right into the spinal column of Cruze.
Comeau: The Blacklist! The Blacklist all over Orlando and Chase!
Kozlov: Did I not warn you?
The sound of the shot from the cane echoes throughout the arena and reverberates throughout Orlando’s body as he collapses to the ring. Taylor darts in to help her boyfriend only to have her arm caught and yanked around behind her back by Mika…her very own ‘sister.’ Before Chase realizes what’s happening, she’s being forced down to her knees and her wrists are being shackled behind her back.
Comeau: Looks like they finally cuffed Taylor after-all.
Kozlov: Just a week too late.
Frankie has walked away, straight to the back, acting as if he had no part or no inclination of what was about to happen. Therefore Orlando is left entirely on his own to ward off not one…not two…but three assailants.
Montgomery and Harrison are all over him already, and in spite of the fact that Orlando is fighting back…it’s just not enough. He’s thrown through the ropes by the back of his head and sent crashing into the mats while Aaron eagerly follows him. He drops down in front of a rising Cruze and catches his jaw with a forearm. Lukas then rushes in and delivers a bionic elbow to the top of the Icon’s head, further staggering him up the ramp.
Meanwhile Mika makes a valiant attempt to hold Tay-Tay down…but she will not comply with her captor. In spite of their twisted familial ties, Chase throws the back of her head into the bridge of Mika’s nose, causing her to break a grasp on her sister’s wrists. Tay-Tay then leaps through the ropes, rushing up the ramp with hands still shacked, but body ready to fend off the two men assaulting Orlando.
Montgomery turns just in time to catch her ribs to his shoulder, heaving her up and carrying her back towards the ring with Chase kicking and flailing in a valiant attempt to free herself…but ultimately a feeble attempt.
She is forced to watch from the elevated perch on Lukas’ shoulder as Harrison delivers enough blows to knock Orlando off his feet and to the stage. Just when all appears hopeless for the Socialite and the Icon….salvation comes in the form of Dark Legacy, Brittany Lohan and Cassidy Haze darting to the ring….They instantly pounce on Harrison, delivering a series of forearms and punches to the skull of the Blacklist representative.
Comeau: Lohan and Haze coming out to help their benefactor, Taylor Chase…I think this might be the first and the last time the fans are happy to see these two.
Mika rushes up the ramp to help her Cowboy against these odds only to spot from the corner of her eye, two more destructive influences leaping the barricade. Yvonne and Kathryn lunge from the crowd and leap unto Mika, Unity taking her down.
Comeau: And now Unity out here to further even up these odds.
Kozlov: All in a shameful attempt to endear themselves to Chase.
Comeau: I think there here to do the right thing and to get their hands on the Blacklist.
Kozlov: Was that an attempt to correct me?
Comeau: Absolutely NOT!
The action intensifies now that Unity and Dark Legacy have raced to the aid of Chase….simultaneously indulging their hatred for Blacklist at the same time…getting a two for one deal out of this. Forearms, fists, kicks, are employed to punch, kick and gouge. All of these strikes have the Blacklist on the fences….unable to fend off these odds….until said odds take notice of one another. In the midst of all this chaos, Dark Legacy and Unity manage to back into one another. The moment their spines connect, their fists do the same. Lohan and Haze turn around and find themselves eye to eye with Pearson and Knight. Unity and Dark Legacy only indulge a stare down for a second until they begin to indulge shots. Rights and lefts land to the faces of their rivals.
Comeau: Ladies…ladies…PLEASE! Where’s P Clarence Whitman III to come out here and talk some sense into these ladies?
Kozlov: Unity and Dark Legacy just unable to come to terms even when facing a common foe.
Comeau: So typical of women,
The ramp is consumed with chaos as Haze and Knight exchange shots while Lohan and Pearson do the same. Tis the season for indulgence, so these four give over to excess, beating one another all the way up the ramp and eventually taking their war through the curtains.
Now that their enemies have turned their attention to one another, the Blacklist is free to go back to their campaign of carnage. Harrison turns towards Orlando, who manages to catch him with an uppercut, and then a punch between the eyes, followed by another, and another. But that ends when Aaron launches a knee into Cruze’s ribs, and then follows it up with a devastating forearm to the temple…one that rocks his brain around in the confines of his skull. The stiff strike sends Cruze stumbling back to the edge of the stage, his spine facing the huge mound of dirt and open grave pit amassed below.
Aaron then rushes in and throws another right only to be caught RIGHT in Orlando’s clutches…The Icon back dropping Aaron through the air, and sending him plummeting into the dirt mound. He collides with the mound and collides with sufficient force to knock all the fight from his body.
Kozlov: What a vein attempt.
Comeau: Orlando and Tay-Tay fighting back…fighting back against this Blacklist onslaught.
Kozlov: Like I said…a vein attempt.
Cruze stumbles to the center of the stage before glancing over his shoulder at Harrison, who stands on the dirt mound, collecting himself. Orlando then does the unthinkable, turning himself into a human projectile by dashing across the stage and diving off the edge into a flying lariat. His arm nails Aaron’s throat, putting both men down to the mound dangerously close to the open grave.
Cruze then crawls towards Aaron and begins to deliver closed fist after closed fist to Harrison’s face. But instead of eliciting anger…Orlando’s blows draw a smile from Harrison….then laughter….even as his nose is busted and his lip fattened and his eye blackened by these shots.
Harrison: Yes Orlando….destroy me…destroy me!
The demands are answered with more and more punches by a furious Orlando. But these strikes leave his spine exposed to an attack from Montgomery. Now Lukas has the cane in his hand and swings it into Orlando’s upper back, knocking him down to the dirt.
It seems that Harrison was distracting Orlando long enough for Lukas to seize advantage for the Blacklist. This was after Lukas put Tay-Tay back in Mika’s clutches, who is still having trouble containing the fiery Chase, trying to hold her back but only putting an end to her spunk once they’ve reached the base of the dirt pile. A kick to the back of Tay-Tay’s knee puts her down so that Mika can straddle the small of her back and pull up on her chin, making her watch.
Mika: Don’t fight this, Tay-Tay….
She obviously doesn’t listen to her ‘sister’s’ pleas, still struggling against Mika’s grips. Orlando also struggles, to get back up….but only reaches his knees before a set of handcuffs find their way around his wrists…snapped in place by Harrison. After securely latching the wrists of the Icon, Harrison bends down to speak into his ear.
Harrison: I didn’t forget to bring a spare this time…Orlando.
Cruze employs the same strategy as Chase, head butting Aaron and causing him to back away.
He then turns to acknowledge the man standing in front of him with cane in hand.
Orlando: You’re all slime.
Montgomery: The old ways die tonight, Orlando…and they die with you.
The cane thunderously collides with Orlando’s forehead, instantly splitting it open. But the shot from the cane is only a fraction as vicious as the one delivered by Harrison, who has reached into the open pit to extract a Singapore cane. He pulls it out of the hole and drives it down into Orlando’s skull as well. Lukas then steps in and swings the cane into Orlando’s head…which has a long standing history of brain injuries….But it doesn’t quell the hands of the Blacklist…who continue to take turns swinging their cane into Orlando’s head , chipping away at it. Harrison lands a blow…followed by Montgomery, each shot more devastating than the last and resulting a louder screech from the audience. It’s not clear what’s louder, the screams of the fans or the screams of Tay-Tay, the World Champion brought to her knees at the edge of the dirt mound and held in place by her own sister.
Mika: This is for your own good, Cecpta. We‘re rescuing you from this monster.
Blood cascades down his face, seeping from the large open laceration in his scalp. He teeters back and forth on his knees but does not go down…stubborn until the last. Harrison lines up the cane to the massive hematoma…In spite of being so light headed his skull could float from his shoulders, Orlando manages to gripe.
Orlando: Is this the worse you can do, Harrison?
Aaron pauses….then leans in, taking Cruze under the jaw to hold his head up in order to speak into his ear.
Harrison: Oh Orlando, you’ve yet to see me at my worse.
He steps back and delivers the most devastating cane shot that resembles the sound of a cannon being fired in the Manhattan Center, and that’s exactly what Orlando feels like he’s been shot in the head with. The cane bends in half around Cruze’s skull, and knocks his head off instead of it floating away. Fragments of wood are left in Orlando’s skull as Aaron steps to his side and delivers an equally as sick shuffle side kick to his temple, finally putting Cruze in his eternal resting place…the grave.
Comeau: This is disgusting.
Kozlov: No…this is penance.
Comeau: Orlando thrown into the grave by the Blacklist.
<font color= gray.Kozlov: No, he was put precisely where he should be.
That last blow from the boot, coupled with multiple shots from the cane have finally rendered Orlando unconscious. Eyes fluctuate….trying to remain open but failing….there is absolutely nothing left of the Icon. The only part of his body moving at the moment being the blood that oozes and clots across his face.
Nathan: Let us pass you sons of….
Security is in mass, keeping Nathan Creed and a plethora of other talents from being able to reach the ring and prevent the wanton annihilation of Cruze. This contingent of guards were presumably put in place by the new acting advisor to the President, Frankie Paradise.
Taylor’s been unleashed and permitted to fall to the dirt, her cheek resting against the mound as her sorrow is exuded via tears spilling from her ears and rolling down her skin. All the while Montgomery, Mika and Harrison have taken a stance on the edge of the grave, looking down at the vanquished and mutilated body of the Icon. His legendary status and position of power counting for absolutely nothing tonight, and actually leading to his destruction rather than his ascension.
Kozlov: Finally Orlando has been decimated. The time for the Blacklist retribution has finally come, and Orlando has paid a heavy price.
Harrison and Mika mimic the celebratory kiss exchanged between Cruze and Chase…but it fails to gain the same reaction from the crowd. As their lips are interlocking and clothes begin to be removed, Montgomery grabs a hand full of dirt, and kneels down. His palm is extended and dirt falls through his fingers onto Orlando’s body down below.
Montgomery: Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.’
As the dirt spills onto Orlando’s face, it begins to cover the bodies of Mika and Harrison as well, the two rolling around in the soil and embracing FAR too passionately, clothes being tossed aside as the two indulge in an act of sheer eroticism.
And Tay-Tay, she finds herself covered in dirt as well..or more accurately…lying in it. The filth transforms into a puddle of mud thanks to the tears that stream down the face of the World Heavyweight Champion.
FADE TO BLACK
IWC 
