Silas: No one respects ya Doll-Baby….
A blurry Taylor Chase’s face appears, frown pronounced, eyes heavy with sorrow.
Silas: Nobody thinks ya deserve the title….
A battle-tested Chase stands on the turnbuckle, holding up the World Championship to a rousing rendition of ‘I DID IT!’ More blurry, hazy images of SMILING faces consume the screen….belonging to Lucas Knight and Alana Starr as they watch a monitor backstage feeding their eyes the visual feast of Taylor celebrating with the belt.
Silas: You’re the butt of their jokes….
Foggy footage of Jackson Adams staring at Taylor across the ring from him, sneering as she raises the Championship above her head.
Silas: It don’t matter how many times you defend that title…
A flash of scenes show her delivering the TKO on Jackson Adams, Lukas Montgomery, and Legion. Sweat glistens across Chase’s brow as she drops to her knees in the ring, eventually planting her forehead into the gold plate of the championship she has fought through so many challenges to retain.
Silas: How hard you work…
The gym becomes Taylor’s home, shown doing a hodgepodge of cardio, strength training and floor exercises.
Silas: No one will ever take you seriously….
Leeland Gaunt stands over Chase laid out at ringside and gives a judgmental shaking of his head.
Silas: No one will show ya the respect ya deserve…
Adam Chase can be heard chatting it up with Lucas and Alana in the middle of the ring.
Adam: Lucas….you’ll finally return entertainment back to the World Heavyweight Championship.
Silas: They will all continue to hate ya.
A screen grab of Leeland Gaunt’s Twitter page is featured with the words ‘VILLAIN’ used in reference to the Word Heavyweight Champion.
Footage of fans turning their back on the ring, giving ‘up your’s’ taunts, and flashing middle fingers.
Silas: The fans…
Footage of the roster laughing and joking.
Silas: Your peers….
Footage of Adam Chase smoozing with number one contender, Lucas Knight.
Silas: Not even your own flesh and blood…
Back to the hazy image of a red hot Taylor, squeezing a chair in her hand to the point where blisters start to form on her palms.
Silas: None of ‘em, will ever respect ya.
All that intensity displayed by Chase is channeled into a chair shot on the ‘wrong’ target, smashing in the skull of Lucas with the steel.
Silas: They will never respect ya…respect ya…respect ya…
Chase watching Kelcey Wallace, her best friend suffering the Totalis at ringside….Chase being given a condemning frown by Mr. Gaunt….Chase broken down and injured in the ring as she puts her all into defending the World Championship…..Chase sitting on her knees, holding the belt between her hands….Chase flinging the kendo stick repeatedly into the bodies of the Blacklist….Chase screaming towards the heavens as she floods with emotion.
The door to the production truck opens and out strides Silas Mason.
The Stetson is twirled in his palms, allowing an un-shadowed view of the smile on his face….and it’s a predictably disgusting grin at that.
Silas: What….a….masterpiece.
The Stetson is placed on top of the skull holding a diseased and disturbed brain.
”Trenches” by Pop Evil provides the steak while the action of the IWC superstars add the sizzle. We’re treated to shots of P Clarence Whitman III diving off the bottom rope into a fist drop, Kathryn Pearson and Yvonne Knight delivering stereo shining wizards, Brittany Lohan laying out Gary Matt with the Final Solution…and this is all just the build to the more chaotic and pulse pounding footage. Scenes consisting of Robert log rolling into the legs of Chase Global, Porno Lad and the Harem addressing the fans via megaphone from the balcony, the Black Crusade standing over a pile of bodies in the ring, a blood soaked Ba’al holding up the NHB Championship and finally Taylor Chase laying the World Title on the canvas at her feet.
”CRYING OUT” by Shinedown results in so much repulsion it could constitute a hate crime.
Johnny Dollar: Thanks for joining US for Riot! Live from the Manhattan Center tonight…And yes…I did just say US…
Sparkles: Thanks for welcoming me with arms wide open.
The commentators table looks a bit cramped with Johnny joined by Greyson Lovejoy and Sparkles, the dynamic ventriloquist and puppet duo.
Sparkles: Guess that’s better than the open mouth kiss on the lips you TRIED to welcome me with when I first came out here.
Dollar: Due to the STILL unexplained disappearance of Susie Moore, I’m being joined by Sparkles and Greyson Lovejoy tonight on commentary…God help us all…AND now it seems we’re being joined by co-owner of the IWC…Desmond Drake.
Sparkles: Yaaaah….someone else too small to ride the Tea-Cups at Disney Land.
The hate showering the stage now soaks the pint-sized Desmond as he steps to the stage dressed in a…..in a…..in a…..sparkling robe? Yes, it seems that Drake has channeled Ric Flair this evening….as he makes his way down the ramp in a diamond studded coat that drags across the stage behind his tiny frame. Please let him drop an elbow on a microphone…PLEASE!
Dollar: What the hell is Desmond wearing?
Greyson: I think it’s a rhinestone coat.
Sparkles: Probably purchased at Oshkosh B’gosh.
Dollar: It almost looks like he’s dressed to….compete?
Sparkles: I hope not…it’s nowhere near as fun as it sounds. I learned that the hard way when those twenty Blacklist members jumped me a few weeks ago.
An intense….yes…VERY intense….Drake slides through the ropes into the squared circle and is expeditiously handed a microphone.
Drake: That’s….IT!
His foot is put down….even if it’s too small to make much of an impact.
Drake: Legion….Robert…the two of you…you went too far this time. The disrespect shown to me on NewAge, when you took my face and subjected it to Robert’s bum, is too much for me to overlook. I must be avenged…and I WILL be avenged….
The knot in his sparkling robe is undone and tossed aside to reveal the muscle shirt and shorts on beneath….yep…it’s just as Dollar speculated…Drake is in full battle regalia.
Drake: Thanks to the guidance of Ba’al, I now have a clear course of action. I know what MUST be done. There’s only one way to deal with the sinful antics that run amok here in the IWC….a federation bereft of morality. We will have fanality, and it starts right here in the middle of this ring as I….Desmond Drake vanquish Legion….
Dollar: He….can’t….be….serious.
Sparkles: Challenges like this didn’t work out too well for me a couple weeks ago, Oshkosh.
Drake: GAUNT! Bring your monster to this ring and let’s resolve this!
The microphone is thrown aside so that his hands can slap his pythons….or his garden snakes…or his tadpoles….DJ Qualls probably has more muscularity than the 50% owner of the IWC….Who wants to own something else tonight…or someone…And he won’t be waiting long for that someone as “Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer” plays over the speakers, inspiring goosebumps and a reaction that lactates nipples. That reception only gets louder when the materialization process reveals Legion standing on the stage, and in a rare sight, Leeland Gaunt actually accompanying his conjured creature.
Dollar: Talk about the oddest start to an edition of Riot EVER. Legion, the biggest, most demonic, most dominant and destructive force in all of professional wrestling is actually being called out by our midget President….Take a moment, let that all sink in.
Sparkles: I think Desmond would have an easier fight successfully reaching the urinal in a public restroom.
Greyson: They really should make those things more midget accessible.
The biggest challenge to date, the ONLY challenge he’s ever faced, stands before Desmond, who does not blanch in the face of this adversity. The megalithic monstrosity climbs up onto the apron, methodically stalking his pint sized prey.
Dollar: Okay, when is Desmond gonna run?
Sparkles: Can midgets run? I always thought they had to be thrown.
Greyson: Give it time Sparkles, we might see Legion do that to Desmond.
Dollar: Legion already has. He did it to Drake via the Misery while his entire body was wrapped in lighttubes at Upping the Ante, then he gorilla pressed him out of the ring at Last Stand to eliminate Drake from the Rumble and put him through our announce table….
Legion’s leg slowly crosses over the top rope, tentatively putting his foot down on the canvas. It’s almost as if Legion is giving Desmond time to run, but Drake is going nowhere, actually buffing out his chest and putting up his fists.
Dollar: Drake….come on now…if you go through with this, no amount of physical therapy is going to help you recuperate this time.
Anticipation is building, the crowd eagerly waiting to see Legion subject Drake to far worse than the stink-face the President received from Robert on NewAge. In fact, Legion might just sever Drake’s face entirely, and that will just be an appetizer to the buffet of brutality the crowd is forced to digest.
Both of Legion’s feet are on the canvas and they are carrying him towards Desmond so the two can have the most lop sided face off in the history of professional wrestling. Drake has to look way…way…waaaaaaaay up to the eyes of Legion, his head only reaching the knees of the Black Crusade’s goliath…..and Legion has to look way…way…..waaaay down to the face of Desmond. The two create quite the visual, a visual that could transform into the most garish scene ever witnessed inside of a professional wrestling ring.
Dollar: Desmond is going to die.
Sparkles: Hey Legion, if you punt Desmond into the crowd, aim for that chick with the huge boobs in the fifth roll, that’s where I landed when I got kicked out of the ring by Aaron Harrison…and it made it aaaaalll worth it.
There’s no telling where Desmond will land, or what parts of him will land where…as Legion prepares to rip him to pieces. And Referee Stuart Wright is planted in the corner, wondering along with the rest of the fans, if he should have worn a rain slicker to prevent getting bathed in Drake’s blood. Hesitantly Wright steps out of the corner and calls for the commencement of this blood-letting.
Dollar: I’m not about to believe this is actually going to happen….
Greyson: It certainly looks to be the case, Johnny.
Sparkles: Legion is in the ring and Desmond hasn’t run screaming away from it…..Yet.
The only screams belong to the fans as they anticipate this….the most one sided confrontation since IWC’s rebirth. Legion tilts his head, cracks his fingers and prepares to lock them around the oversized melon of his opponent. All this hype is about to pay off with a predictably vicious end….but when the lights dim and static consumes the screen, the outcome suddenly becomes very unclear.
STATIC
Dollar: Not….this…again…
Sparkles: Meh, you knew it was going to happen, Johnny…it was as inevitable as panties flying at me from the crowd every time I make my way down this ramp.
Anyone…even Helen Keller could foresee this likelihood…though nobody actually likes it.
When the lights regain their power, we find out that all the true power is in the hands of Sinistry. The reprehensible grin on Desmond’s face runs from one earlobe all the way to the other as he watches Legion and Leeland react to being surrounded by the Sinistry. There’s the Pestilence of Jacob Laymon, Jessica Wilde and Executioner….there’s the “Saint of Violence” Jonathan Collins…there’s the former Tatum McGraw, Rachel Frost…. “The Suicide Queen” Rachel Foxx….the sister of the NHB Champion, Jaina Frost…and the NHB Champion himself, the holier-than-thou, Ba’al.
His hand isn’t the only one that wraps around the bottom rope…because every member of the Sinistry and those in their sphere of influence are presently using the cables to drag themselves up to the apron.
Sparkles: The goths are out here, someone get ready for a trip to Hot Topic.
Dollar: This was a ruse….Desmond Drake lured Legion out here, and now the Sinistry has he and Mr. Gaunt surrounded.
Yes, Mr. Gaunt and Legion, they presently find themselves out numbered but not ‘outsmarted.’ Their reaction to being caught with their pants down by these overwhelming numbers? A playful sigh from Gaunt, and a condemning headshake from Legion.
Ba’al: Your hubris has betrayed you again.
Ba’al’s grin could cut his head in two and reveal the diseased brain hidden inside.
However, the Black Crusade are not hiding anything, especially the reaction to the force that presently imperils them. The entirety of the Sinistry climb into the ring….a ring that Mr. Gaunt drives the bottom of his cane against. The moment said cane thuds against said canvas….
STATIC
Dollar: For the love of GOD!!
Sparkles: Yes, my child?
Greyson: Hush Sparkles…not only are you being blasphemous, but your opening the door for yet another paternity lawsuit.
The Manhattan Center is fixed in a perpetual state of darkness….well…not really perpetual….For it’s only a matter of moments before the widened eyes of the fans absorb the image of not just Legion and Mr. Gaunt standing in the ring….but also Silence and Mr. Hush….the reactivated houselights above reflecting from the polished katana in Silence’s hand, and the trash-bags full of popcorn dangling from Mr. Hush’s clutches….their weapons of choice. But wait…they’re not alone either, because a steel chair wielding P Clarence Whitman III, twists in circles with his weapon ready to dispatch any of the stunned members of Sinistry gathered about the ring. And he’s joined by Katelyn Buehler, who is bouncing her own chair against the canvas, threatening anyone with it who would dare to enter….But wait…even more yet. With the Mnooseville Charter in his clutches, Robert prepares to use the wrath of HIS bible to vanquish any potential means who should come after him.
Dollar: It’s the remainder of the Black Crusade, and those who have been saved by the Crusade’s campaign of fear.
Greyson: And now they’re all staring down the scariest group of wrestlers since Dungeon of Doom.
Sparkles: Yeah, the fact that Kevin Sullivan looked like an evil geisha was pretty damn horrifying.
The crowd isn’t horrified…they’re exhilarated to see the odds evened and turned in the favor of the Black Crusade. This who’s who of superstars lurking in the ring and standing opposed to the Sinistry…..who have YET to back down from the apron. Ba’al turns between his fiancée, his sister, his sister in law, and the Saint of Violence…..saying nothing but sending a clear cut message to each of them.
They drop in mass from the apron and back up the ramp where they are joined by Drake.
Sparkles: Where are they going?
Dollar: How in the hell should I know?
Sparkles: I hope they’re going to Amsterdam, prostitution is legal in Amsterdam.
The frazzled audience watches as the Sinistry backs up the ramp, leaving the athletes in the squared circle still yearning for competition, but their desires ungratified. What they get instead is not a fight, but a comment from the Prince of Sin.
Ba’al: I think we can all agree that this has gone on for far too long.
Every word is met with resounding disgust from the crowd.
Ba’al: This war between the just and the damned has waged on and on for an eternity, since the very day I called into question the ability of the Black Crusade to truly inspire fear. And now look at how many have been drawn into the middle of this conflict…
A hand gestures to Whitman, Buehler, and Robert alike.
Ba’al: This needs to end….be it under circumstances that the Sinistry controls. We decided the fate of the IWC several months ago, and now all that is left is to carry forth the execution…..and that execution will come by the end of this night.
The microphone is cast aside and the Sinistry make their collective exit.
Dollar: What a bunch of two-faced hypocrites. They were just fine with getting in that ring when they thought they had Legion and Leeland Gaunt outnumbered, but once the reinforcements showed up, they tuck tail and run.
Greyson: I don’t know, something tells me there’s more to this story. You never know what these cats are cooking up.
The Black Crusade and their satellites continue to stare down the Sinistry and all of their supporters….full-scale war about to break out.
Cameras jump from the escalating hostilities inside of the ring and around it, to the equally as tense proceedings emanating from….the rafters?
From a perch high above the ring sits Spencer Klein, legs dangling over the edge of the scaffolding and his cheek leaning against the support beams that hold the hand railing in place.
Dollar: And if things couldn’t get any more bizarre….that’s the Blacklist’s Spencer Klein….and he’s watching all of this unfold from the rafters.
Sparkles: God….he must have got some real bad tickets for tonight’s show.
Dollar: As if this situation couldn’t possibly get anymore tumultuous…..
The lifeless eyes of Klein are in a fixed state on the proceedings far…far below.
Intrigue in the ring…the ringside area….the rafters…..and now the gorilla position. Standing just in front of the curtains are Marie Jones, who is in the midst of a conversation with…Cassidy Cage? Their words can’t be heard….instead we get an instrumental version of Trenches playing in the background, the Riot theme music generating hype.
Dollar: Uh-oh…we saw this on NewAge…when Marie Jones was talking to Valentina Madison….now she’s chatting it up with Cassidy Cage…
Greyson: Yes, and doesn’t Marie have a match of some sorts here shortly.
Dollar: Indeed….she’ll be teaming with Jackson Adams to take on Abigail Lindsey and Mya Denton.
Greyson: So why is she gossiping with Cassidy at the moment?
Sparkles: Why are you complaining about so much hotness being on the screen at the same time?
Dollar: I don’t know what her motivations are, but I do know is that we’re about to see the reformation of Apocalypse…NEXT!
A flash of an eroded church….
Romeo’s bloody face stretched over a shield….
A flash of the fire burning in the center of this ruined holy structure….
Romeo’s blood spilling into a goblet….
A flash of two shadowy silhouettes stretched across the interior wall of the church….
A man kneels over the exsanguinated body of Damascus….a man holding a goblet filled with blood…a man with eyes void of compassion….remorse…feeling….or soul.
THE MOVEMENT CONTINUES…TONIGHT!
MYA DENTON & ABIGAIL LINDSEY VS. JACKSON ADAMS & MARIE JONES
A loud purrrrrrrrrring engine can be heard from somewhere in the arena. The chorus of ‘Los Angeles’ by Sugarcult begins the play. Suddenly, a motorcycle burst from backstage. It stops at the top of the ramp, the person driving the motorcycle is none other than Maxine Moore. The person hugging her waist briefly takes off her helmet, revealing herself to be Abigail Lindsay. She waves for the camera, places the helmet back on her head. Maxine drives down to the ringside area. She circles the ring twice. The bike comes to a halt. Abi slides off, takes off her helmet. She hops on the apron, proving how flexible she is she lifts on leg off, then drops down in a full split. she slides under the bottom rope. She waves playfully for the crowd as Maxine keeps an ever vigilant eye on her from the outside.
Dollar: Did we really need a reminder of that gruesome debut by the Movement?
Sparkles: No…what we really need is more of what we’re seeing right now….Abigail Lindsey….though she could definitely use some tighter spandex.
Greyson: Take it down a notch, Sparkles.
Dollar: Abigail teaming with Mya Denton to face a very steep uphill battle against the Apocalypse.
Abigail continues to shower in the love of her adoring audience….with many of the men needing to shower as well…a cold shower. It is then that these horny teens are given more of a visual delight. Although the arrival of an unhinged Mya Denton creates more than just tension in their underpants. With “I Don’t Care” by Fall Out Boy playing in the background, Mya comes skipping down the ramp, around the ring and eventually goes sliding under the ropes. From her kneeling base she eyes Abigail, who smiles, winks and waves towards her partner for the evening.
Dollar: Mya and Abigail had their fair share of altercations with Cassidy Cage last week, which is why they’re teaming together tonight.
Sparkles: In what world does that make any sense whatsoever?
Dollar: Huh?
Sparkles: So apparently these two will make a good team just because they beat the hell out of the same babe last week? What kind of convoluted non-se…
Greyson: SPARKLES!
Abi and Mya continue to stare one another down in anticipation of their big team-up tonight. Soon their eyes stop focusing on one another in order to transfer to the stage the moment “Haunted” blares through the speakers. Shortly there-after Marie Jones gets quite the rise out of the crowd upon stepping to the stage and pausing to absorb this temperamental responses. It now appears she’s hesitating for a different reason though, waiting for Jackson Adams to make his entrance. And when Jackson does arrive, he doesn’t look nearly as thrilled by this IWC Apocalypse debut as Marie.
Dollar: Apocalypse…take two….Marie Jones teamed with Silverwolf on the last Riot, and now we’ve got her siding with Jackson Adams tonight….let’s just hope this mesh up goes a little smoother.
Sparkles: If Marie is up to no good again, I think she should be given an open hand slap on the bottom…several times….by me.
Greyson: Lawsuits, Sparkles, lawsuits.
It doesn’t take long for Marie to rush the ring and slide in ready to do some slapping of her own, while Adams lingers at the end of the ramp, unsure what to anticipate when that bell chimes.
Dollar: Jackson naturally a bit tentative to get into that ring with Marie, knowing what Jones did….or didn’t do….last week when she left Aerik Walker to be beat down by the Pestilence. And we kind of heard him vocalize his displeasure over that sequence of events on NewAge when he ran into Marie backstage.
Sparkles: Who in their right mind wouldn’t blow their loads if given the opportunity to be around a sexy ginger?
Greyson: This is exactly why we’ve been banned from Wendy’s.
At long last, after much baiting from Marie Jones, Jackson climbs up onto the apron and prepares as best he can for what may follow next. Right now all he does is set sights on Marie, who paces the ring, giving a few playful glances in Mya’s direction. Denton looks ready to start the match for her contest and does just that when the bell chimes, and she converges with Marie in the middle of the ring.
Their arms lock up and they struggle for dominance…..Dominance captured by Mya, who spins around under the arm, twists it around behind Marie’s back and applies the hammerlock. Jones doesn’t stay in this submission for long, reaching back with her arm, wrapping it around Mya’s neck and then falling to her knees, snapmaring her opponent over her head and out of the….no….Denton keeps hold of the hammerlock and actually flips Jones over along with her. The two end up with Marie on her seat and Mya kneeling behind her, hammerlock still established.
But Marie refuses to have her arm debilitated, using her legs to escape her plight. She reaches back with her legs, wrapping them around Denton’s ankle and performing a drop toe hold. The hammerlock is broken, to make way for Jones’ version of the front chancery. She leaps over the laid out Mya, lands in front of her and applies the submission, throwing in a few knees to the top of the head and forearms over the back for good measure.
Greyson: Chain wrestling…..interesting.
Sparkles: Can we actually see these two wearing chains? Bondage equals ratings.
A fired up Denton gets to her knees and from this position manages to make a counter, performing a headstand. She then twists her body while coming back down, landing at Marie’s side, grabbing her arm and wrapping it around behind her back, applying the hammerlock.
Dollar: Back into the hammerlock.
Mya’s got every bit of this hold established, bending the arm until the elbow verges on snapping. Before we can hear that crackle and the pop, before the sinew begins to seep and the muscles are torn straight from bone, it’s the eardrums of every fan that is irreparably damaged.
Cassidy Cage: I remember when I was just like you, Mya….
Cassidy may wear a big smile, but everyone in attendance frowns.
No one enjoys the sight of Cassidy on the stage, nor the presence of the microphone in her palm. Well…nobody with the exception of Marie.
Dollar: Oh no…not this AGAIN!
Sparkles: There’s nothing but hot stanky ass out here….I might just lose it.
Greyson: Ummm…but Jackson Adams is out here too.
Sparkles: Your point being?
The ringside area becomes Cassidy’s stomping grounds and the perfect place to continue reminiscing.
Cassidy: It should be such a fond memory…but it isn’t…because ever since my debut I’ve been used, manipulated and ultimately cast aside by the Lohans like I was nothing but a piece of trash. Now I see them trying to do the same thing to you, Mya….don’t trust that woman you’re teaming with tonight…She’ll just abandon you….she’ll make you think she cares then the second you open your heart, she’ll stab you directly in it.
These perilous comments prompt Mya to remove her focus from the hammerlock, and this gives Marie the opening she needed. She tucks her chin to chest then rolls forward across the canvas right out of the hold. She ends up on her seat beside the still kneeling Mya, drags her along to her feet in a side headlock then rushes across the ring. She dives through the ropes and rams the top of Denton’s skull straight into the middle turnbuckle post.
Dollar: Cassidy distracting Mya long enough for Denton to be turned into a human battering ram.
Greyson: I guess Miss Cage is still upset over that big dive Denton gave her on the last Riot.
After having her head compressed against her neck, Mya rolls to the center of the ring and Marie is climbing back through the ropes only to slap Jackson’s shoulder. She then tries to direct Adams…TRIES….but Jackson has a mind all his own. He climbs up the nearest turnbuckle, reaching the top rope and then intently watches as Mya gets to her feet down below. The moment she stands, Adams goes airborne, flying through the air and putting his boots to Denton’s chest. The missile dropkick sends Mya flipping over backwards.
Cassidy: Believe me, Mya, you’re setting yourself up for disaster here if you trust that blonde tart….
Abigail is shaking her head and frowning just like the fans in response to these character defaming comments.
Cassidy: Abi is just like Brittany, she’ll use you to get what she wants, and then stab you in the back when she’s all through.
Presently Mya has to worry about being stabbed to the front…Adams pulling her along to her feet and then heaving her up into a modified Canadian gut-buster. Her ribs bounce off the elevated knee but Adams doesn’t let her go down to the canvas, standing her up and then pushing her backwards into the ropes. The second Mya bounces off, she comes staggering back along into a running knee strike to the mid-section that sends her flipping up and over unto her seat.
Dollar: The birth of Apocalypse in the IWC seemingly has Jackson worked up. He’s been a staunch supporter of Apocalypse since day one….and not even Marie’s attitude nor her ‘threats’ have had an effect on his loyalty to the group.
Adams now swoops in behind the seated Mya, taking her around the arms and forcing her up to her feet. He then shoves her forward into the cables, Denton ricocheting off and twisting around into a running knee to the mid-section…..one that Mya manages to avoid. She leaps over Jackson’s knee, catches him around the hips with both hands then drags him down into the sunset flip.
1
Adams rolls over backwards while Mya does the same, getting to her feet then using them to carry her into Jackson….Jackson’s SHOULDER, which rams directly into Mya….Mya’s RIBS.
Denton doubles over from the impact and Adams takes advantage, hooking her arms to her sides and already setting up for the package piledriver.
Cassidy: There we go….Jacky Boy….hit that piledriver….show me why Emily has always been so fond of you.
Emily Cage may be fond of Jackson Adams, but Jackson Adams is not fond of Cassidy Cage.
He makes as much evident via his OWN frown, directed towards the chatty Cassidy at ringside. However, Marie’s screams implore him to refocus, going back to heaving Denton up into the piledriver, only to have Denton flip forward. She catches Jackson around the neck with a front chancery and around his waist with her legs…..The body vice, front chancery combination locked in….locked in TIGHT!
Dollar: Mya with a great counter….applying the same hold she used on Cassidy last week.
Mya really holds on with all of her upper and lower body strength zapping Adams of his strength.
Cassidy: You’re fighting in vain, Mya….This is just a handicap match….don’t you know that? The second you go to make that tag, all Abigail is going to do is turn her back on you, just like she does to everyone else.
The thought strikes Abigail as laughable, hence why she laughs…duh.
Maxine Moore isn’t chucking though, her eyes burning a hole into Cassidy, and ready to put a few in Cage literally with her two hands.
In spite of the nagging tone of Cassidy, Mya continues to fight, exerting as much pressure on the simultaneous holds as her body will allow. That is until Jackson manages to get his arms under her legs and break the body vice by throwing Mya up and onto his shoulders. He then charges across the ring on the cusp of delivering a buckle bomb….but Denton has other plans. She places her hands on top of Jackson’s head and then pushes herself up and over his head, leapfrogging it and off of his shoulders. She lands behind Jackson then leaves her feet the moment that Adams turns around, connecting with an inverted dropsault.
Jackson is sent twisting into the turnbuckle, landing against it while Mya rolls to her seat and then scoots across it towards her corner.
Cassidy: Abi….you were one of the few people I ever cared about…I ever opened my hear to, and just like Brittany, you betrayed me, you let me down….You…you hurt me.
Cassidy’s words and her close proximity to Abigail, has Lindsey taking her eyes off the ring where Mya is poised to make the tag.
Dollar: Oh great, Cassidy distracting Abigail from making the tag.
Greyson: Yeppers.
It appears Cage is bound and determined to re-enact history, forcing Abigail to abandon her partner, much as Lindsey abandoned Cassidy in the past. Though the only thing abandoned, are the inhibitions of Maxine, who barrels around the ring and almost decapitates Cage via the clothesline.
Sparkles: If she just knocked off Cassidy’s head, I call dibs on it.
Dollar: Maxine has heard enough, taking out Cassidy and at the same time getting some retribution for Invictus.
The lariat has Cassidy on the ground, both stunned and gasping for air.
Now Abigail is free to pay her full undivided attention to the desired tag, which is made to a loud reception from the crowd.
A fired up Abi lunges to the top rope, then off into a big crossbody on the inbound Adams.
Dollar: AIR ABI!
Greyson: She’s in there, and she’s dropping it like its hot.
Sparkles: Can your cultural references be any more dated?
The crossbody knocks the air from Jackson’s body but doesn’t take the fight from his muscles. He scrambles along to his feet just as Abigail does the same. The two then meet in the middle of the ring with Adams ducking a wild right hand. He swings around behind Abigail and wedges his hands to her spine, shoving her along into the ropes.
Adams then charges in with an elevated knee that Abi avoids via a baseball slide through the legs. She then lunges to her feet and catches Jackson the moment he turns around by stepping off his knee and connecting with an enzugari to the back of his skull.
Jackson doubles over and Abigail takes him around the neck, rushing at the nearby corner.
She steps up and pushes off the top rope, drilling Adams’ skull against the canvas via the tornado DDT.
Dollar: Abigail continuing to surge with energy here.
Greyson: Cassidy’s words have lit a fire under Abigail’s ass.
Sparkle: I can think of something else that would go good under Abigail’s ass, it rhymes with ‘my face.’
Jackson is out but Abigail is up, looking to continue putting the hurt on her opponent. And what better pain can be inflicted than a loss, a loss at Abigail’s hands? She uses those hands to hook Jackson’s legs.
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Jackson’s shoulder clears the ring and the match progresses as a result….And that progression takes the form of Lindsey leaping to her feet, charging into the ropes and springing off the middle cable into the moonsault….It connects, right across the elevated knees of her opponent.
Dollar: Jackson’s knees finally connecting with Abigail’s mid-section.
The lung deflating collision leaves Abigail rolling to the center of the ring, gripping at her wounded mid-section. Jackson then steps in, hooks both of her arms and heaves her up quickly into the tiger bomb only to twist her in mid-air and drive her back down across his knee.
The modified back breaker has Abigail in dire straits and Jackson back in control. That control is turned over to Marie as Jackson steps across the ring, looking for a tag. His hand stretches….and remains stretched…..
Dollar: Jackson going to make the tag, but ummmm, where is Marie?
Greyson: Oh goodie, is this like Where’s Waldo? I rock at that game.
Jackson continues to look for the tag, one that never materializes. Why? Because Marie has turned herself into a makeshift crutch, helping Cassidy up to her feet and up the ramp.
Dollar: Where is Marie going?
Greyson: Not into the ring, that’s for damned skippy.
The lariat to the larynx has Cassidy continuing to gasp for air and trying to keep her legs under her….which is where Marie proves instrumental. Aid continues to be provided to Cassidy as both ladies move up the ramp.
Jackson: Marie…MARIE!
Adams stands on the middle rope, shouting over the cables at Jones…who doesn’t even look back in response to the demands of her tag team partner. The demands only cease when Jackson is grabbed from behind by Lindsey, who pulls him around and into a kick to the gut. Lindsey then places him in a front chancery, charging at the turnbuckle, stepping up it then pushing off into the tornado DDT…
NUH-UH….Adams wedges his hands to Abigail’s gut and throws her across the ring, Lindsey coming down from a tremendous height, face first into the ring. She splashes the canvas, pops back up to her knees and is then taken around the neck. Jackson hooks both of Lindsey’s arms, heaves her up into the air and into the Angel’s Wings. Before Lindsey can even think of countering, her face slams into the canvas and she flops to her back, where Jackson manages to make the lateral press.
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Dollar: Jackson might have the win in spite of being abandoned by his partner.
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The hand comes down for a three count though never culminates due to a timely kick out by Abigail.
Sparkles: Naaaaahhhh…Jackson was lucky enough just to lay on top of Abigail for that long without a rape whistle being blown.
Agitated doesn’t even begin to describe Adams’ current disposition, who is putting everything he’s got into this match even though he’s fighting one of the greatest uphill battles of his career. That perseverance continues, getting to his feet, pulling Abigail along to hers and then going yet again for the Blissful Ignorance.
Dollar: Jackson is going to lay someone out with that package piledriver.
And that someone WON’T be Abigail. The moment Adams lifts Abigail off of her feet, a missile dropkick from Mya connects right against Adams’ pecs. The blow knocks Jackson to his back with Abigail flipping forward into the jackknife cover.
Dollar: MYA! She got revenge for that missile dropkick earlier with a missile dropkick of her own.
The official is in position and making the count to a roar that threatens to pop a few eardrums.
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Another pop….Jackson’s shoulder popping off the canvas and out from under Abigail.
Sparkles: Whhhhy is he still fighting? Can’t Jackson just exit the ring and let Abigai and Mya re-enact the pool scene from Wild Things?
Getting his shoulder up wasn’t enough, Jackson trying to scramble along to his feet. He stands up with a bruised sternum, but might have a few cracked ribs to go along with it. He charges right into a spinning back heel kick to the mid-section by Lindsey, that sends Adams staggering back into the waiting clutches of Mya…or more accurately, her waiting boot.
Denton rushes in and delivers a step up enzugari….to no effect….cause it misses the target entirely. Jackson ducks his head as the boot sails over, Mya landing square on her face. Jackson snatches her by the hair, drags her along to her feet and whips her directly into the waiting Abigail.
Before Denton can be turned into a human weapon by Adams, a quick Lindsey leaps into the air, over her partner’s back and employs her as a weapon for her own means. She grabs Mya around the waist, pulling her down into a sunset flip. Mya then rolls backwards out of the sunset flip though into a wheelbarrow, wrapping her legs around Jackson’s waist.
She then pushes herself up and into what at first seems to be a wheelbarrow face buster, but then Jackson wedges a hand to her spine and shoves her off into Lindsey.
Abi no sooner reaches her feet before Mya crashes into her with almost a modified Lou Thez Press, taking both ladies down to the canvas.
A stunned Mya pushes herself up into a crawl, trying to recover but finding that difficult when Jackson is leaping from the apron at her side, springing off the top rope and flying into a big splash to her spine. Denton is driven and driven hard into Abigail beneath her, the splash inflicting trauma on both ladies.
One lady is then cleared out of the way, Jackson pushing Mya aside so that he can drop into a lateral press on the legal Lindsey.
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Dollar: Can Adams actually pull this one off?
Sparkles: Yes, tear her bra off completely, Adams.
One thing does come off, Abigail’s shoulder from the canvas.
Dollar: Abigail not letting it happen.
Greyson: But what a display by Jackson Adams tonight, yeah?
Dollar: Indeed, he’s still putting his all into this match.
A drained Jackson reaches his feet and staggers across them towards Mya, who’s back is aimed in his direction. He takes advantage, wedging his shoulder to her kidneys, then heaving her up into the back drop suplex.
That move never culminates, because Denton floats over, landing directly on her feet. She then leaves them in order to deliver another dropsault, only this time Jackson has it scouted, catching her feet and allowing Denton to crash to her back. Jackson then turns Mya over, right into the liontamer.
Dollar: Jackson with a submission taken straight from his own tag team partner…or the lady who was SUPPOSED to be his tag team partner tonight.
And the hold probably would culminate to a submission victory if Mya were the legal participant for her team and if Abigail weren’t springing off the ropes in front of Adams before twisting into the roundhouse kick that connects directly with Jackson’s….armpit?
Yep….Jackson caught her leg in mid-swing and then drops Mya to her back before lifting Abigail’s other leg into the air and using it to turn her over to her stomach, applying the liontamer.
Dollar: Liontamer applied AGAIN!
Sparkles: Don’t tap Abigail….the longer the match goes, the more I get to look at you. Don’t leave us, if you do I’ll be forced to look at Jackson, which gives me a complex.
Abigail lifts her hand into the air, fingers twitching above the canvas, while Jackson’s mouth is frothing, and Mya’s body is flying. All eyes avert to Denton, who for the second Riot in the row captives the audience via a big crossbody, she soars through the air and ultimately crashes right into Jackson’s chest.
Mya takes Jackson off of his feet but not for long. He manages to turn the momentum of the crossbody to his favor, rolling right back to a standing base with Denton stretched across his chest. He then throws her up into the air for a crossbody only to have Mya twist, take him around the neck and snap back into the DDT. The top of Jackson’s head crushes the canvas with such force that it sends him instantly popping up to his seat. An absent minded Adams staggers along to his feet just as Abigail leaps from the middle rope and launches a shin directly into his face via the springboard roundhouse kick.
Dollar: DDT followed by the springboard roundhouse!
Greyson: These lethal ladies have just got themselves back in the driver’s seat.
Sparkles: And no lady should be behind the wheel of a car….EVER!
The cumulative effect of the DDT and the roundhouse kick may have finally done the trick….which would result in quite the treat for the pinning Lindsey.
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And it’s a treat for the crowd as well…the fans quite enthralled by the image of Abigail picking up the win for her team. She sits up, elevating her arms in victory while Mya comes staggering in, helping Lindsey along to her feet.
Dollar: Abigail and Mya pick up the win over Jackson, who put everything he had into this contest only to fall flat.
Sparkles: As flat as Kiera Knightley’s chest.
Everyone likes what just witnessed, including Marie….She continues to hold up Cassidy on the stage, glancing over her shoulder in the direction of Adams with a slight smirk on her face.
Kelcey Wallace doesn’t look anything like a perfect 10 at the moment. Her hair is disheveled, the bags under her eyes are puffy, and the corners of her mouth are downturned into a frown. Her bloodshot eyes are glued to the phone in her hand, dialing a number with an increasing sense of urgency.
Kelcey: Come on Tay…please answer.
The phone is raised to her ear, desperate to hear Taylor’s voice through the speaker.
Taylor: You know who this is, and you know what to do….here comes the beep.
She hears the voice, but it’s in the form of an answering machine.
Kelcey: Damn Tay….come on…
The number is dialed once again.
Time for idle speculation by the commentating trio, their voices overheard as Kelcey continues to try unsuccessfully to reach Chase.
Dollar: Kelcey Wallace, the best friend of Taylor Chase, unsuccessfully trying to reach our esteemed World Champion.
Sparkles: Awww….she don’t look very happy….I think I should go back there and console her.
Dollar: Surprised Silas Mason even allowed Kelcey to make a phone call.
She doesn’t make just one, she makes several, continuing to try and reach out to the World Champion for reasons known only to herself.
EARLIER TONIGHT
IWC returns with frozen footage referring to the ODD incidents between the Sinistry and their litany of foes.
Dollar: What a twisted night we’ve already seen thus far….evident by the fact that I’m being joined at commentary by Sparkles and Greyson Lovejoy…
Sparkles: Not to mention what happened earlier tonight when that group of Clive Barker Cenobite loving freaks ALMOST got their hands on that huge masked dude, and his puny manager.
Dollar: All after Desmond Drake LURED Leeland and Legion to the ring with the false promise of a one on one match between he and the Black Crusade’s goliath.
Greyson: That didn’t happen.
Dollar: No it didn’t…instead we got this.
With a stiff upper lip Drake looks to battle Legion, who steps over the ropes and prepares to put his boot somewhere other than the ring… down into Desmond’s gut. As the Sinister Saint prepares to collide with the diminutive Drake…things go horribly awry. Lights dim….and when they return we find the Sinistry amassed about the ring, on the cusp of sliding in and unleashing unspeakable acts upon Legion and Mr. Gaunt.
The crowd only gets louder though when the lights again dim and rise to bring to view the collection of combatants standing beside the Black Crusade, weapons raised defensively towards a retreating Sinistry.
Dollar: The Sinistry had designs on taking out the Legion and Mr. Gaunt, but high tailed it once the odds were evened by the interference of P Clarence Whitman III, Robert and Katelyn Buehler.
Sparkles: The battle-lines were drawn and I’m going to snort ‘em.
Dollar: And then we heard a rather chilling decree delivered by Ba’al.
Segue to Ba’al standing amongst his family and co-conspirators on the ramp, microphone in hand and abrasive gaze locked on his targets in the ring.
Ba’al: This needs to end….be it under circumstances that the Sinistry controls. We decided the fate of the IWC several months ago, and now all that is left is to carry forth the execution…..and that execution will come by the end of this night.
Dollar: We can only speculate as to what Ba’al meant by that.
The individuals most intrigued by these comments stand unified in the locker-room, a collective unit beset against the nefarious intents of the Sinistry.
Mr. Gaunt: We do extend our gratitude for your intervention.
He addresses those interlopers instrumental in sending the Sinistry fleeing earlier tonight. Buehler, Whitman and Robert listening intently to the leader of the Black Crusade.
Buehler: Don’t mention it, Mr. Gaunt.
Katelyn says in a respectful tone.
Whitman: Yes, it was…aaaaahh….merely a method of..uuuuh….paying it forward.
Buehler: You had our back on New-Age, so we returned the favor.
Mr. Gaunt, flanked by his subordinates, Silence and Mr. Hush, remains appreciative as opposed to condescending towards those who have joined him in his blackened labyrinth.
Mr. Gaunt: Indeed, and some of your backs, due to their girth, are harder to watch than others.
Robert takes this as a compliment as opposed to an insult.
Robert: Robert think Desmond watched Robert’s back very closely on NewAge.
Mr. Gaunt: That he did…However, Desmond and the Sinistry deserve a wrath far worse than the rubbing of Robert’s derriere in their faces.
Buehler: You ain’t kidding, Mr. Gaunt, it’s time we start upping the ante….Push it to a whole new level….Let’s start crucifying some bitches….Let’s stop being on the defensive and let’s take the fight to the Sinistry.
Buehler continues to hype everyone up.
Whitman: Yes…uhhh…ummm….we shall engage them by land, by air, and by sea….
And Whitman’s nonsensical follow up has just totally killed that hype.
Buehler: Yeah, well anyway, I’m about to head to that ring and take the fight to the Sinistry.
Mr. Gaunt: Splendid, but I would advise against going alone.
All eyes dirt towards Whitman.
Whitman: Oh….ummm yes, of course. Let’s gallantly sally forth shall we?
Whitman continues to fail abysmally to feed the passions of his associates even as he and Buehler march on to apparently take the fight to the Sinistry.
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.
Dollar: It took some work but it seems Amanda Blayze has repaired her image in the eyes of the IWC fans, in spite of the Blacklist’s best efforts to destroy her legacy.
Sparkles: They tried to get her to turn evil….which would have been awesome, cause I guarantee Amanda would then walk around sporting some tight black leather attire….Which is what all heelish hot chicks wear, right? Am I drooling, or is that another substance pouring out of me at the moment.
Dollar: We’ll find out later when we turn the black light on your chair. We’re also going to find out in a matter of moments here if Amanda can get back on track after a string of recent set-backs…mainly attributed to the Blacklist….
LAST WEEK
The Blacklist’s shameful attempt to lure Amanda Blayze into their fold gets the replay treatment. There’s Lukas Montgomery, there’s Aaron Harrison and there’s Mika Kozlov, and they’re all present in the ring to greet Amanda once she’s entered.
Dollar: It was just last week when we saw Lukas Montgomery’s attempts to manipulate Amanda, place Blayze at a crossroads. The Blacklist gave her an ultimatum, determined to find out if she was going to abandon her principles and embrace the ‘dark-side’ or continue fighting for the greater good.
And we get Amanda’s response via a hug on Montgomery, that has the crowd watching with dropped jaws, followed by a fujiwara on Lukas, that has the crowd rejoicing with even wider mouths,
Dollar: And Amanda’s answers to Lukas’ life-altering question?
Sparkles: She punked that bitch out.
Dollar: That’s right, Amanda decided NOT to side with the Blacklist and instead tried to break his arm via the fujiwara.
Greyson: Yep, but I think she lived to regret that decision.
Clips of Amanda’s subsequent match with Lukas are featured with Montgomery’s Blacklist cohorts continuously running interference. And it’s that interference that finally proves too much for Amanda to overcome, receiving the Quieter after being pitched into the air by Lukas.
Dollar: The Blacklist using their superior numbers to eventually wear Blayze down and subject her to what many consider to be a morale shattering loss.
However, as Blayze stands in the ring with microphone in hand….she looks anything but shattered.
Amanda: So things haven’t gone the way I would have liked them to…
Obviously she refers to the recent string of set-backs.
Amanda: I lost to Kathryn Pearson in my biggest IWC bout to date, and then how do I follow it up….by rebounding? Fraid not. A week later I get my jaw cracked by Lukas Montgomery and I lose again….But not every win is achieved by a three count. Sometimes it’s the personal victories that mean more than any check in your win column. And my personal win was achieved by clearing up any confusion, any doubt, any distrust when it comes to where my allegiances lie.
A big pop regarding Blayze standing up to the Blacklist and standing up against the rumors that have plagued her for several months.
Amanda: When I arrived here tonight, I wasn’t shunned by the locker-room…I didn’t hear people questioning my motives and talking in hushed whispers behind my back….No….I was actually accepted amongst my peers for the first time since my name started to be dragged through the dirt….Honestly, that feels better than any pin, or any submission….
Dollar: How touching.
Sparkles: Oh I’m touching myself right now, believe that.
Greyson: Dammit Sparkles…we’re in public.
Amanda: But I can’t find full absolution until I get my one on one match against the very woman who started all these rumors and spread all this filth about me. Just when it seemed that match was FINALLY going to happen, after I fought my heart out against Kathryn Pearson at Invictus to earn a contract for a contest against the Blue Eyed Devil….Lohan goes and announces that her contract has expired with the IWC?
The thought of Brittany evading a fight, especially a fight Blayze put her everything into earning, has Amanda justifiably unnerved.
Amanda: Does nobody but me find this a little ‘convenient?’ That after months of dodging a match against me, the second I at long last get her one-on-one, Brittany’s contract just all of a sudden expires? (Sarcastically) I mean, it’s not like Brittany to pull every string in order to avoid facing her rivals, right?
The sarcasm clearly isn’t wasted on this crowd.
Amanda: For almost six months Brittany toyed with Alana Starr, constantly evading a bout against her until Starr was driven to her absolute breaking point. But unlike Alana, I’M not about to sit back and let myself be played until I snap…Lohan isn’t going to pull the wool over these eyes…
A thumb gestures to the very eyes that blaze…no pun-intended….with determination.
Amanda: I’m not going to let Brittany play me, and I’m not about to let her play any of you either…
An index finger gestures to the very eyes of every fan attentively focused on the ring.
Amanda: I’m going to reveal Brittany for the manipulative schemer that she is…the same manipulative schemer that tried to railroad me and turn everybody against me. I will never again fall victim to Brittany’s mind-game….
Spencer: But your so adept at being a victim, Amanda….you have a real talent for it.
Blayze’s determined eyes shoot towards the stage, towards the stands….everywhere she thinks Spencer Klein can be lurking. The last place she thinks to look, is precisely where she finds Spencer Klein, seated in the rafters high above.
Dollar: Spencer finally speaks.
Amanda’s face is twisted and her muscles tensed at the sight of the Blacklist’s ‘patriarch.’
Spencer: Which is good, Amanda, because you’re going to continue to be a victim throughout the remainder of your miserable days. You might as well as spend the rest of your life doing what your best at….and that’s being manipulated…being toyed with…being victimized.
Amanda would so like to be the victimizer at this point.
Spencer: Because you lack the most important character traits of the Blacklist…traits we could have instilled in you….those traits being a detachment from compassion…a total abandonment of feeling or emotion…Things that can be played and used against you….weaknesses that others will constantly exploit. You’ll never get your match against Brittany Lohan, because you’re not willing to do all that it takes to get it. And even if you did you would be defeated by the Blue Eyed Devil well before the match ever began. She would destroy your mind then move on to destroy your body. A fate you could have escaped had you taken the Blacklist up on our offer to help purge you of feelings, of compassion….giving Brittany no means of assault….but you refused our help….and now you’ll reap the repercussions.
Amanda imagines reaping not repercussions but the blood from Spencer’s body.
Spencer: In just a few moments Nikolai Kozlov will step through those curtains and show you everything you could have had….and everything you could have been if you had joined with the Blacklist….
The words have not the desired effect, motivating rather demoralizing Blayze.
Sparkles: What the hell is wrong with this Spencer Klein dude? Did Hannibal Lecter and Charles Mason get together and have a baby?
Dollar: Some chilling comments from Spencer, acting as ambassador for the Blacklist. But Amanda has more than words to worry about….she’s about to fight the Savage Nikolai Kolzov, one-on-one. Can she get a measure of revenge against the Blacklist tonight?
That’s just what Amanda has planned, and hopefully those plans won’t go awry.
The parking lot currently finds itself occupied by Danny Darko, eyes constantly cutting between his watch and the entrance to the structure.
Dollar: It looks like Danny Darko is waiting on someone’s arrival.
Sparkles: Good, if he’s in the parking lot, he can call me and let me know when my strippers arrive.
God only knows who Darko is waiting for, time will tell as Riot rolls along.
Kathryn: You pulled my ass out of the fire, that’s for certain.
The X-Class Champ, Kathryn Pearson herself, is getting her gab on….chatting it up with the figure on the other end of the line.
Kathryn: But next time…would you let me know you’re gonna be in the building? I was just about to head out there and name drop….spoil the big surprise….then you just show up out of nowhere sporting that Halloween mask and totally put the hurt on the Harem.
A pause is taken so Pearson can lean her shoulder against the wall.
Kathyrn: No….don’t get me wrong baby, I appreciated you being there, just would have liked to know what you had planned for New-Age before you showed up and put those bitches on their heels. Speaking of which, I can’t wait to see the looks on the Harem’s faces when I make our EPIC announcement, and the world finally knows who’s gonna stand beside me as we claim the Tag Team Titles…
Her smile is so bright it could make the Las Vegas strip envious.
Kathryn: And good news, that announcement is going down tonight, gurl…I got an in-ring interview with Mark Comeau, and it’s gonna be the perfect opportunity for us to shock the world.
The phone is hung up and Pearson continues down the corridor….unaware that her every step is being watched by Kordelia Price, Polly Norah and Black Magic Woman. The trio tracks Pearson at a distance.
BMW: Can’t wait to beat her ass on Big Daddy’s behalf.
Yes, she did just refer to Porno Lad as “Big-Daddy.” Thankfully she is shushed before she can come up with any further disgusting nicknames for her benefactor.
Kordy: Be very…very quiet….we hunting a Kat! Heh-heh-heh.
AMANDA BLAYZE VS SAVAGE
Amanda continues to pace in anticipation of her big match against Savage….now joined by referee Ingelson who is set to officiate what should be an intense confrontation.
Dollar: We’re back live where Amanda Blayze has been waiting and waiting on Savage…
Sparkles: She could have waited out here beside me.
Greyson: After what you just did with your hand, I don’t think any woman would ever want to be in your proximity.
Sparkles: A playa getsh it with a few sexual harassment lawsuits, then they label you a pervert.
Greyson: A sex offender to be more accurate.
The long wait pays off with the tunes of the “Shadows Betray You” by Hans Zimmer and the arrival of Nikolai Kozlov. The menacing mass of muscles heads down the ramp, ready to put his strength to good use to potentially cripple the woman who resisted the Blacklist’s temptations.
Dollar: Nikolai Kozlov, hot off the heels of his big tag team win with Mika on NewAge, looking to continue dominating on behalf of his faction….
Sparkles: Yeah but….
Dollar: Hold that thought!
Sparkles: Way ahead of you…oh wait…you said ‘thoughts.’
Savage reaches the ring but doesn’t get a chance to enter. The second he rises unto the apron, Blayze sends him crashing off of it via a dropkick through the ropes into his chest. Kozlov lands on his feet, staggers back and trying to catch himself. He is then crushed under the weight of Amanda, who just hit a beautiful Arabian Press to the outside of the ring.
Or so that’s how the story is SUPPOSED to go….because instead of crashing to the mats, Savage remains upright holding Amanda on top of his shoulder.
Dollar: Amanda with a beautiful di….SAVAGE CAUGHT HER!
Sparkles: Now slap that ass, Savage, slap it hard.
There is a slap, Savage’s face slapping against the steel steps as Kozlov throws her into a snake eyes. Blayze’s face ricochets from the steel and her body wants to descend to the mats, but instead ascends into the air. She is loaded onto Savage’s shoulder, who then charges her across the mats and eventually rams her spine right into the exposed turnbuckle post.
Dollar: Savage employing that power advantage.
Greyson: He’s throwing Amanda around the ringside area….
Sparkles: I’d throw her over my knee.
Greyson: Sparkles…seriously, come on now.
Pain….and lots of it….is experienced by Amanda, who is rolled into the ring with Savage sliding in after her. The bell finally chimes once both parties are in the ring and Savage is looking to make this the shortest match of the night. He throws himself over Blayze’s chest then wedges a forearm against her face.
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Amanda is bound and determined to get back to her winning ways, shooting a shoulder from beneath the maniacal Blacklist member.
The kick out gets a favorable response from everyone, save for Spencer Klein.
He remains perched in his nest high above the ring giving a judgmental shaking of his head. Far below him Nikolai is trying to make a good impression on the Blacklist’s advisor, and the best way to do that, is to deal some damage on Blayze. He heaves her up and onto his shoulder, powering her across the ring and driving her kidneys into the turnbuckle.
The screams of pain from Amanda, causes the muscles in Spencer’s cheeks to twitch, fighting back a smile.
The grin is harder to keep at bay when Spencer watches Kozlov back across the ring to the center with Amanda still loaded up on his shoulder in spinebuster position. He then powers her towards the turnbuckle when Blayze suddenly slides over that shoulder she’s mounted upon and slides down Kozlov’s back. She falls straight to the canvas behind her opponent then reaches out catching him by the ankle.
Kozlov trips forward with Amanda standing up behind him, applying the ankle lock.
Dollar: It seems Amanda does best when she’s fighting from her back.
Sparkles:….
Greyson: Don’t EVEN Sparkles!
The ankle lock drops Kozlov and his leg is then wrenched with such force, such exertion that it threatens to snap the joint.
All of Amanda’s strength is channeled into the submission, one that manages to bring Kozlov to his potential breaking point. But instead it’s Amanda’s attention that i broken when from the corner of her eye she spots Mika Kozlov, Aaron Harrison and Lukas Montgomery heading down the ramp.
Dollar: Ooooh great, we knew this was going to happen eventually.
Greyson: If you don’t mind, Johnny, I think I’m going to employ you as a human shield at this point.
Sparkles: If those Blacklist bitches get anywhere near me, they’ll get a pimptastic smack and another epic beat-down.
Blayze finds it hard to multitask, to maintain the hold and watch out for the Trinity as they surround the area Harrison described as ‘home’ on the last Riot. He, Montgomery and Mika look on the verge of entering their domicile, about to slide into the ring which prompts Amanda to break the hold in favor of breaking a few faces. She rushes at the ropes and sends the Blacklist members sliding back to the mats before they could do any damage. But they didn’t have to enter the ring to inflict harm.
The distraction costs Amanda, allowing Kozlov to limp back to his feet. She comes rushing back towards him to pick up where she left off, instead it’s her that ends up being picked up. Kozlov heaves her into the air and delivers the black-hole slam, driving Amanda’s kidneys forcefully against the canvas.
Sparkles: Those hoes!
Dollar: The Blacklist distracting Amanda and setting her up for disaster.
Sparkles: If the Black-bitches have just set up Amanda for the loss, I’m gonna slap Mika around like Ike putting a beating on Tina.
Greyson: Please don’t get us into another fight, Sparkles.
Both of Blayze’s legs are hooked just to give Nikolai a greater advantage.
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This added pressure pays no dividends, Blayze managing to get her shoulder up and her legs out of Kozlov’s clutches.
Dollar: Amanda so determined to get back on the winning track, but how can she do that when the Blacklist has her surrounded and out numbered?
Kozlov looks to take advantage of these superior numbers, pulling Amanda along to her feet and then forcing her to leave them as she is tossed through the cables. She lands right in front of Mika, who quickly rushes in and snatches her around the neck, taking instant advantage of Savage distracting referee Ingelson.
Mika takes Blayze around the neck, heaves her up unto her feet and then hoists her over into the vertical suplex….yet history will not repeat itself.
Amanda counters THIS suplex…refusing to fall victim to it for a second week in a row. She then floats right over Mika, lands behind her back and shoves her forward. Luckily Aaron is right there, catching Mika before she could hit the mats and holding her up. As the two Blacklist members spew bile at Amanda, she gives them a double middle finger salute.
Dollar: Amanda telling the Blacklist exactly what she thinks of them.
Blayze only stops pushing the censors into a blood pressure related stoke, because of the big boot to the back of her skull.
Dollar: Lukas attacking Amanda from behind.
Sparkles:…..
Greyson: Don’t say it, Sparkles…
The boot is every bit as devastating as one might suspect, sending Amanda twisting into the mats. Montgomery doesn’t let her take that tumble though, grabbing her and heaving her up across his chest. He then drops back into the fallaway slam, driving Blayze’s body into the thin protective matting.
Sparkles: Gosh damn….
Dollar: Lukas with the fallway slam across the outside mats. How…how is Amanda supposed to come back from something like that?
We’re about to find out if that’s a possibility or not. Amanda is dragged along to her feet by the very man who put her on her back. He then rolls Amanda under the ropes and into the ring, where she’s sprawled across her spine, in the worse possible predicament one can imagine. Savage finally stops distracting Ingelson so the official can actually do his job, just in time to make the three count.
Nikolai drops across Amanda’s chest, hooks the leg, wedges the forearm into the chin….and has the win in his back pocket…even though his current attire has no back pockets in which to speak of.
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Greyson: Looks like these mongrels have another win over Blayze.
Ingelson stops just short of the three….and the Blacklist ceases celebrating at ringside, because Amanda manages to get a shoulder free from the ring.
Dollar: This is nothing short of astonishing….Amanda should have been out for the three count after that fallaway slam.
Sparkles: And yet she continues to fight in those nice skin tight spandex.
This latest kick out might be one she regrets making, because immediately after getting her shoulder up, Amanda is forced over to her stomach and Kozlov straddles her spine. She is pulled up and subjected to a textbook camel clutch that would have the Iron Sheik drunkenly singing the submission’s praises.
Dollar: Camel clutch, and Amanda is trapped right in the center of the ring.
The camel clutch is altered slightly, so that Nikolai can slide his fingers into Amanda’s nostrils, fish hooking them and rearing back. He almost gives Amanda a makeshift nose job….but even still Blayze isn’t tapping out. Ingelson starts in with a five count now that he sees the blatant mangling of Amanda’s face, prompting Kozlov to stop fish hooking and start throwing crossfaces. His forearms drill Blayze to the sides of her faces, inflicting long term damage with short term repercussions.
To make matters even more grave for Blayze….Kozlov stands up, wedges his boot to Amanda’s upper back then delivers a curb stomp, almost breaking her nose against the canvas.
Dollar: This is just like what we saw last week when Amanda battled Lukas Montgomery…every time she starts to come back, she’s shut down by the Blacklist.
The curb stomp wasn’t enough for Kozlov, who steps to Amanda’s side, takes her around the waist and deadlifts her from the canvas. He then begins to step around the ring holding Amanda beside him with her limbs dangling above the canvas. Finally he heaves Blayze up and unto his shoulder before dropping to his knees, delivering the over-the-shoulder-back-breaker.
Blayze twists from the shoulder of her opponent and down to her stomach across the canvas, her back in very bad shape after being worked over for the past few weeks. Nikolai looks to use that broken back to break Amanda’s will, stepping over her head and pulling her up into position for the powerbomb. He drives his forearm over Amanda’s kidneys then swipes his arms through the air. Those arms are used not for taunting but to heave Blayze up to his shoulders, taking her by the back of the neck so that he can set her up for the reverse powerbomb that would send Blayze flipping into the turnbuckle.
Dollar: Kozlov going for his kill move.
Nikolai is just about to drop back but Amanda suddenly shifts her weight, pull her head out of her opponent’s clutches and then slide down Savage’s back. The second she hits the canvas, Amanda hits the ankle, grabbing Kozlov by the leg, heaving it up into the air into the ankle lock.
Dollar: Another counter by Blayze into the ankle lock!
Sparkles: Break that ankle baby….break it.
Nothing is broken, except for maybe Amanda’s back. Savage rolls to his side and manages to employ the strength of his legs to kick Blayze off, sending her spine traveling towards the turnbuckle. Kozlov rushes to his feet only to be removed from them when Blayze turns, leaps to the middle rope and springs off. She twists in mid-air, crashing directly into Savage’s chest, bringing them both down to the canvas with a crossbody.
Amanda straddles the chest, catching Kozlov completely off guard with a pinning predicament.
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Not just yet says Kozlov, who gets his shoulder up and sends Amanda rolling away.
She alters strategy, scrambling to her feet and then rushing into the ropes. She bounces off and comes back in at a now seated Kozlov, connecting with a brutal running buzzsaw kick right to his chest.
Dollar: Amanda starting to employ that MMA based offense on Nikolai….this isn’t good for the Blacklist.
Sparkles: Yes…but every time she throws one of those kicks, it makes her pants a little tighter, which is good for me.
The blow may have cracked Kozlov’s chest, yet he still sits up. Amanda then scrambles into the ropes in front of him, bouncing off and swinging around into ANOTHER buzzsaw….nothing…Kozlov dropping back and avoiding the inbound shin of his opponent. He then wedges his hands to Amanda’s back side and shoves her forward into the ropes. Amanda flies forward, landing on the middle rope throat first with the Blacklist looking to take advantage….via a Harrison thrust kick.
With Nikolai once again preoccupying the referee, Harrison steps in to nail Blayze in the temple with the kick and it connects…..with Amanda’s arms.
Dollar: Blayze caught Harrison!
Greyson: Not this week, Harrison….not this week.
The boot is shoved aside with such force that it causes Harrison to spin completely around, his back wedged to the ropes.
Yet Harrison nor his positioning are not of chief concern to Blayze, who has to tangle with the inbound Savage. He throws all his weight at Amanda, only to see it crash into Harrison’s back, launching Aaron off the apron and sending him crashing to the mats, and launching Kozlov off the ropes crashing into the roundhouse kick to the face. Amanda seemingly knocks Savage out, putting him on his back with Amanda leaping across his chest.
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Dollar: Did she catch him…Did she catch him with that scintillating kick?
The kick might have knocked lose a few teeth, but it did not knock out Kozlov, who manages to get his shoulder up just in time.
Greyson: Nyope.
The crowd is just as disheartened as Blayze, who leaps from her knees to her feet. She then steps back, lying in wait, on the verge of subjecting Savage to one of her trademark maneuvers….She’s just not going to pin Kozlov, she’s gonna make him tap.
Nikolai just begins to stand up when Amanda rushes in and starts to leap into the air in order to apply the Hunter’s Trap. That plan goes horribly awry thanks to the influence of Montgomery. He tries to slide into the ring, prompting Amanda to stop and then go rushing towards Lukas, who has just gotten to his knees before having his sternum cracked by a roundhouse kick.
Amanda then delivers the kick a second time, and then a third time.
Dollar: Lukas trying to interfere but Amanda is lighting him up with those kicks.
Sparkles: Beat the shit out of him, Amanda.
Another kick and another and another and another…welts and bruises forming on Montgomery’s sternum. Amanda then steps back for a knock out shot only to have Savage grab her by the shoulder, spinning her around. Blayze goes from one target to another, swinging around her shin into a roundhouse aimed at Savage’s skull.
Yet Nikoali ducks this time, causing the boot to travel over his head and for Amanda to turn her back on him. Savage then shoves her forward right into the waiting Montgomery.
Lukas stands up, wedges his hands to Amanda’s chest and throws her into the air. He then begins to swing around into the roaring elbow only to turn right into a dropkick…Amanda twisting her body in mid-air and delivering the kick before she can be subjected to the same move that cost her the victory last week.
Another of Amanda’s kicks has the Blacklist reeling, sending Lukas staggering into the ropes then spilling through them to the outside. Blayze then lands on her knees before leaping to her feet and rushing right at Kozlov, who catches her with such a spear that it sends Amanda flipping completely over backwards.
Dollar: GORE! Kozlov just impaled Blayze!
Sparkles: I’ve often thought about impaling Amanda myself.
Dollar: Good luck with that.
Luck is not something Kozlov needs, just the influence of his associates, which has allowed him to crawl into the cover and into a win.
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In spite of having her organs rearranged and her bones shattered, Amanda launches a shoulder from the ring.
Dollar: And yet even THAT wasn’t enough…..Nothing will keep Amanda down.
The latest kick-out has the fans collectively frothing at the mouths…which is fitting considering that Kozlov has gone feral. He finally turns towards the outside of the ring, shouting towards his cousin….Mika, who is already grabbing a steel chair from under the squared circle.
Dollar: No-no-no…not the chair…..
Susie: And it’s a chair in the hands of a Kozlov….which makes it even more dangerous.
In spite of the referee’s many protests, Savage picks up the chair and approaches his target, the ailing Amanda. Obviously he is less concerned with victory, and far more consumed with pain.
Dollar: Amanda is in a bad-bad way….
The chair is about to be put to truly nefarious purposes, perhaps career shortening purposes when….
YOU KNOW MY NAME
The all too familiar theme music elicits an all too familiar response. The crowd lunges from its seats at the sight of Orlando Cruze stepping to the stage, kendo-stick in hand.
Dollar: ORLANDO!
Sparkles: Carrying that phallic symbol in his hands.
Greyson: He’s coming for the Blacklist…AGAIN!
Instead of hitting the ring and doing some damage with the cane, Orlando lingers on the stage and forebodingly slaps the weapon against his free palm. The Blacklist is ready for whatever Orlando might do with that weapon, Mika and Harrison converging at the bottom of the ramp while a recovering Montgomery crawls along to join his family.
Nikolai is very observant of Orlando’s actions as well….to his total and utter detriment. Once Savage is sure that his comrades have Cruze taken care of, Savage turns around with chair in hand, but gets a foot to ribs. The spinning heel kick doubles Kozlov over with the chair falling to the canvas in front of him.
Amanda then leaps into the air, drops her leg across the back of Nikolai’s head and slams him down face first into the chair with the famouser.
Dollar: Yoooow! This is the same way that Blayze beat Savage in that All-Star tag several weeks ago!
Greyson: Are we going to have a repeat?
This time the distraction came back to haunt the Blacklist rather than prove advantageous to them. Neither Montgomery, nor Kozlov, nor Harrison have any idea that Blayze is hooking Nikolai’s leg in the ring, their focus entirely on Orlando and the cane in his clutches.
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It isn’t until Man O’ War plays over the PA system that the Blacklist at last realizes what’s happened…They turn towards the ring and see an exhausted Amanda rolling out of the squared circle, holding her injured back….which may be bruised, but not broken.
Dollar: Amanda pulls it off….and I mean the win, Sparkles…
Sparkles: Awww..
Dollar: Amanda with a MAJOR victory tonight over Nikolai Kozlov.
Greyson: And she owes quite a bit of props to Orlando, as he distracted the Blacklist just long enough for her to get this W.
In spite of all the aches and the pains, Amanda is able to celebrate, staggering away from the ring then falling into the barricade. She leaps over it just as the Blacklist tries to give pursuit. Montgomery and Harrison stop at ringside while Mika is sliding into the ring to check on the condition of her cousin. She pulls Nikolai up to his seat, stroking his hair and cradling his head against her bosom.
As the bees are swept into a frenzy by the agitator Orlando, the Icon watches this all take place with a truly amused expression.
Dollar: Orlando continues to turn the screws on the Blacklist.
Sparkles: Bet they regret beating his ass inside of Hell in a Cell now.
Greyson: True Sparkles, because it looks like it’s brought a totally different side out of our President.
Presently the only side of Orlando that anyone sees, is his backside, as Cruze marches through the curtains, having fulfilled his mission this evening…letting the Blacklist know they will never be at peace until he gets what he wants….that one on one match against Aaron Harrison.
As the annoyed Blacklist surround a traumatized Nikolai, Spencer stops aimlessly watching the action from the rafters and now speaks up.
Spencer: Congratulations, Amanda….mad props Orlando…..Your collaboration continues to pay off in spades.
Klein’s words are almost drowned out by the hostility of the crowd.
Spencer: But I don’t know what the two of you hope to gain. It’s not like beating us, or setting us up for loss, is going to stop us. No….loss only ever intensifies our efforts…it only ever makes the Blacklist more dangerous. Cause we don’t let ourselves become broken hearted, or demoralized by losses…we don’t ball ourselves up in a fetal position and weep as the tunes of ‘Mad World’ play over and over again. We learn from our losses, we grow from our losses, our losses strengthen us….Mr. Harrison….
With that trademark sneer, Harrison turns to Spencer in his loft high above the ring.
Spencer: Would you mind demonstrating my point?
That sneer turns to a grin. And what force on earth could compel Harrison to smile? VIOLENCE.
Without prior warning, Savage is taken by the arm, forced up to his feet and spun around into a kick straight to the gut. Aaron then heaves him up into the air and dumps him directly on the back of his skull via the Hybrid Theory.
Spencer: Mr. Montgomery, Miss Kozlov, would you kindly continue?
In spite of the fact that Nikolai is her own cousin, she forces his injured body up to its feet, lifts his arm and delivers the Heart Punch. The blow is devastating enough, but when coupled with the Quieter nailed by Montgomery, it proves downright crippling.
Spencer: I can now guarantee that Savage will never disappoint the Blacklist again, and now that the Trinity sees how I tolerate loss, they too will not accept failure. So ask yourself Amanda, ask yourself Orlando, who really won here tonight? What did you accomplish?
The phone remains in Kelcey’s hands and her feet continue to traverse the floor, moving from one end of the dressing room to the other.
Kelcey: Come on-come on-come on….pick up already, Tay.
Silas: What you doing there baby-girl?
Kelcey jumps back when she finds her eyes raising to take into view her manager, Silas Mason.
Kelcey: I-I-was just….
Silas: Making a call to Tay-Tay, huh?
There was no getting one over on Silas, he was a man who meticulously anticipated any scenario.
Kelcey: I was just….
Silas: Gonna try to warn her about tonight?
Kelcey: Please, Silas, why do we have to pull her into the middle of this?
Silas: Ya’ know why, Kelcey….and ya know what we got to do this evening is for the best.
Kelcey: For who?
Silas: Awww, doll-baby….for all of us. But especially Tay. Ya’ want her to retain her title don’t ya? Ya’ know how bad it feels to lose your championship…so why wish that on ya best friend?
Kelcey: I-I-don’t….
Silas: Then do as ya told, and play ya part tonight.
Mason’s gloved hand caresses Kelcey’s shoulder.
Silas: Remember, what we do, is for Tay’s greater good.
Jackson: MARIE!
Red doesn’t even begin to describe the palate of Jackson Adams’ face at the moment. He is storming through the backstage area clearly in pursuit of Marie Jones.
Jackson: Come on, Marie!!
A stack of boxes are knocked over by Adams as he goes passing by.
Jackson: Where are you!?!
Jessica: Jacky Boy…Jacky Boy…
Jackson’s flesh is almost as red as the hair on top of Jessica Lasiewicz’s head. Her long flowing locks pick up behind her as she rushes towards the flabbergasted Adams.
Jackson: What is it Jess? I got no time to talk at the moment.
Lady Gambit realizes this, which is why she’s the only one who speaks, and does so quickly.
Jessica: Listen, I know your upset about what happened earlier tonight.
Jackson: UPSET!?! Do I sound upset to you?
Jessica: You look like your about to go Lou Ferrigno on me.
Jackson: No…I’m about to SMASH your sister…
Jessica: And that’s why I’ve GOT to stop you.
Jackson: Jess…it’s not a wise decision to stand between Marie and I right now.
Jessica: I know that….but all I’m asking for is time….
Jackson: Time?
Jessica: Yes, time…Give me a chance to try and talk to Marie, to try and get to the bottom of this before you go and SMASH her.
Jackson: That’s…that’s asking A LOT, Jess.
Jessica: I know, you’re mad she abandoned you in that ring, but you owe me the chance to settle this without violence.
Jackson: Are you sure you want to go down this route? I mean, I know you care about your sister and all, but she’s not been acting like much of a sister lately. You know she had something to do with Valentina laying you out the past few weeks….
Jessica: I’ll get to the bottom of that too. I just need time is all.
Given their Apocalypse association in other federations, Jackson extends Jessica this courtesy.
Jackson: Alright, Jess, I’ll give you time…but it’s fleeting. And if you can’t get answers out of Marie for the way she’s been acting the past months, I’LL use my own methods to get answers out of her.
The ring is occupied by Mark Comeau….his hand is occupied by a microphone…and his face is occupied by a smile.
Dollar: Oh lord….not again.
Greyson: Yeah, our colleague is back, Sparkles….after his very brief stint at the hospital due to a heat stroke.
Sparkles: A heat-stroke? A HEAT STROKE!?! Dude was out of his mind STONED last week.
Dollar: Indeed, as his meds were apparently tampered with by Porno Lad to get him so high he couldn’t interview TPKid in the ring. I guess tonight is his attempt at redemption, as he’s about to conduct a face to face with X-Class Champion, Kathryn Pearson. And on top of that, we also understand that Axl Evermore is going to conduct a sit-down interview with Frankie Paradise later this evening
Greyson: Boy, our fellow correspondents have got a busy night ahead of themselves.
Sparkles: Someone’s got to pick up the slack now that we’re carrying the show from ringside as opposed to backstage.
The clean and sober….ish Comeau addresses the throngs of rabid spectators.
Comeau: I know the shoe is on the other foot tonight, as a lot of people have questions for me, as opposed to the other way around, but let’s not make this about my ‘equilibrium imbalance’ last week….
Sparkles: Equilibrium what-now? Dude, you were high as a mother-fucking kite!
Comeau: And instead, let’s put the spotlight where it’s due….Kathryn Pearson has a major announcement regarding her tag team partner for Extreme Fury, so let’s give her the opportunity to come out here and….
Kordy: Hold on Marky-Coo-Boo-Boo….
The mere sound of Kordy’s voice gets the crowd as riled as protestors on Tiananmen Square.
Dollar: Wonderful…
Sparkles: Here comes the Harem, does anyone have lubricant?
Greyson: Sparkles, this is the last time I’m warning you.
The IWC Tag Team Champions, Kordy and Polly occupy the stage, belts hanging over their shoulders, with BMW bringing up the rear. Now that the fans actually feast their eyes on this socially awkward trio, their hate only gets louder, save for the few cheers from smart marks who like to go against popular trends.
Kordy: If anyone deserves to find out who Kat’s partner is at Extreme Fury, it’s us, the greatest awesomest mostest mega-spectacularest Tag Team Champions in the history of Tag Team Champions.
This self-aggrandizing accomplishes little more than further antagonizing the fans. The Harem ignores the hate as they slide into the ring and surround an increasingly uncomfortable Comeau.
Kordy: Mark-Mark….
Kordelia’s arm falls over Mark’s shoulders.
Kordy: Kordy appreciates that you want to get the big scoop…But Polly here, she wants to get a scoop too…A scoop SLAM!
Before Mark can react, he’s being heaved into the air by Polly and then scoop slammed through the ropes to the outside of the ring. A thud is heard as Comeau’s back hits the mats.
Dollar: HEY! Mark thrown to the outside by Polly!
Sparkles: Not like he doesn’t have some prescription pain killers to help his injured back. I wonder if he has some Viagra too to help me keep up with Kordy….God she’s hot.
And the fans are hot themselves….white hot after another of Mark’s in ring interviews have been hijacked by the Harem.
Kordy: Kat….Kordy advises you to keep your big boobs backstage….Cause if you even think of coming out here and announcing a tag team partner at Extreme Fury, you’re gonna regret it. You need to stay away from our Tag Titles….Understand? Cause if you don’t, our master Porno Lad, has given us permission to do really bad and painful junk and such to you. So stay in the back, keep your mouth and your legs shut, and tell your gimp lesbo lover that the two of you will NOT be challenging us for the Tag Team Titles. You really won’t likely like what the Harem does to you if you decide to come out here and….
Kathryn: Is that so?
With the X-Class Title over her shoulder, Kathryn Pearson moseys on out to the stage in direct defiance of the Harem’s demands.
Kordy: HEY…what did I just tell you? Get-get! Shoo….Polly…roll up a newspaper and smack her on the nose.
Polly is on it.
Kathryn: Whoa-whoa, hold on ladies….You’ve got no reason to be so bent out of shape….Don’t concern yourselves with my announcement….
A bead of sweat is swiped from Kordy’s brow followed by a sigh of relief
Kathryn: I’m not going to reveal my tag team partner tonight, nor did I have any intention too….Polly, you need to work on controlling your breathing…Because I heard you stalking me all night long with your Darth Vader asthmatic wheezing…
An irate Polly turns her eyes to Kordy, who shrugs, nods and confirms that her partner’s breathing is an annoyance.
Kathryn: I knew the three of you were trailing me, which is why I’ve been walking around all night talking to my voicemail…
She lifts the phone, an instrumental tool in setting up the Harem tonight.
Kathryn: But before the show began, my NEW partner had a strategizing session, and we’ve decided that we’re going to keep her identity under wraps until Extreme Fury….Giving the three of you no time to prepare for her.
This reveal…not the one the fans nor the Harem were anticipating….has Kordy about to blow her Tank-Girl inspired hair-cut right off her head.
Kordy: Wait….Kordy is confused. If you weren’t going to name your partner, then why did you ask for this interview?
A smile….a rather sinister one at that….stretches over Kathryn’s face.
Kathryn: I’m surprised Kordy, I would have thought working under Porno Lad all these months that you would be able to smell a set-up coming from miles away.
The confusion in Kordy’s head is replaced by a boot. She finds herself spun around into the superkick….a superkick delivered with concussive results by that same masked femme fatale who came to Kathryn’s aide at NewAge. The kick not only knocks Kordy out cold, but snaps the rest of the Harem out of their lull.
Dollar: SUPERKICK!
Greyson: She got what she has coming.
Sparkles: The sight of her has definitely got me cum…..
Greyson: Dammit Sparkles.
Testosterone levels are spiking at the sight of Kordelia taking the nastiest of kicks that puts her on her ass and puts her cohorts into action. BMW and Polly race to the aid of their partner and send this masked combatant rolling to the exterior of the ring, evading the wrath of a Harem scorned.
Dollar: Whoever this masked lady is, she just made quite the impact on Kordy’s jaw….
Sparkles: Oh lord, I hope she’s still able to use her mouth.
Greyson: How many times must you be warned?
If the superkick wasn’t bad enough, now Kathryn joins up with her ‘teammate,’ so the two can gloat. Pearson throws an arm over her associate’s shoulders and then waves playfully to the agitated ladies in the ring.
Dollar: Who is this lady? And what is her relationship with Pearson?
Greyson: Whoever she is, she’s got the Harem all of sorts.
Dollar: This definitely gives the psychological edge to Pearson headed to the Tag Title match at Extreme Fury.
Snaps and pinches are employed in an a desperate attempt by Polly and BMW to wake Kordy up….but she is still out cold after that tooth rearranging shot.
And if the situation wasn’t bad enough for the Harem, here comes Total War to further complicate matters. Sophie and Mark O’Brian, a team repeatedly shafted by Porno Lad’s gal-pals in the past, are presently headed for the squared circle. Though they aren’t coming alone. A reluctant Referee Wright has his shirt bound up in both of their hands as he is coerced towards the ring.
Dollar: Are Total War on their way to the ring?
Greyson: Which is not good for the Harem, mind you.
Sparkles: Having Sophie out here is good for me though, and that’s all that matters.
Dollar: Total War scheduled to face the Harem later in the night, but when an opportunity presents itself, I guess you have to take advantage.
Sophie, Mark and Wright proceed along to finally at long last take their revenge on the Harem…NEXT.
Tabitha: Abi…I just want to thank you again for last week.
In spite of the physical toll the earlier bout has taken on Abigail Lindsey’s body, she still manages to grin…grin in response to Tabitha’s gratitude. It seems Silverstone managed to catch Lindsey and Maxine, right before they could enter the locker-room, bound and determined to offer a face-to-face ‘thank you.’
Abigail: Don’t even mention it. I think we all just got a little carried away last week.
Tabitha: I would have gotten BEYOND carried away if you hadn’t intervened.
Abigail: I don’t blame you, there’s something strangely gratifying about putting Alana on her ass
Tabitha: And that’s exactly what would have happened if you hadn’t dragged me away from that ring before I did something to her SHE would have regretted.
Abi’s smile is now FORCED, placating the agent.
Abigail: Erm…sure….Just look at those muscle….golly-gee, Alana would have been in trouble if you used those pythons.
Tabitha: Hey now, I may be no Brittany Lohan, but I’ve proven I can defend myself.
Maxine: And you probably would have felt pretty damn good putting Alana out, just as good as I felt dropping Cassidy tonight.
Cassidy pats her friend/bodyguard on the top of her head.
Tabitha: Just wanted to say thanks ladies….Be seeing you around.
Abigail: Count on it….
The pleasantries have been exchanged and now Tabitha takes her leave.
Abigail: I’m just gonna step inside and grab my stuff then we can hit the open road.
Maxine nods the previously patted head, watching as Abigail moves into the locker-room to gather her personal belongings. It’s just then that something, besides a patting hand, connects with the back of Moore’s skull. A chain….a chain wrapped around a fist…a fist connected to an enraged Cassidy Cage….drops Maxine to the floor. With the ferocity of a rabid animal, Cassidy drops beside Moore, applies a side headlock and begins to deliver blow after blow after blow to the back of her skull with the aid of the chain.
Cassidy: You big stupid slut…you don’t put your hands on me…..
By the time the fists stop raining down on Maxine’s skull, a huge welt has already been formed on her head, knots swelling after this lethal assault. The only thing that stays Cassidy’s hand, is the door opening at her side….Abigail exiting through it.
Abigail: What…huh….Cass….NO!
She reacts too late to stop Cassidy, who takes off down the corridor and puts herself out of Abigail’s reach. Lindsey doesn’t pursue, too preoccupied checking on the condition of her unconscious bodyguard.
Cassidy: What I did to her was just the beginning, Love.
Abigail exudes pure malice as she cradles the cracked skull of Moore in her arms.
TOTAL WAR VS. THE HAREM
We return to the ring….or the ringside area to be more accurate, where we are provided the visual of an unconscious Kordy being dragged up the ramp. Polly and BMW stand at her sides, propping her up by the arms as her feet dangle and drag along behind.
Sparkles: Poor Kordy, she looks unconscious….someone could soooo take advantage of her in this position.
Greyson: I’m not letting you go backstage, Sparkles.
Sparkles: You’re such a cock-block.
Greyson: For God sakes man, you weren’t even built with a cock.
What put Kordy in this position? A hijacking that went horribly awry, that’s what. And we see all of that play out, commencing with Polly scoop slamming Mark Comeau to the outside of the ring and Kordy commandeering the microphone.
Dollar: Gentlemen, can we please discuss what has Kordy in this predicament?
Sparkles: I’m open to discussing anything that has to do with Kordy.
Dollar: Just before the commercial we witnessed the Harem taking over the in ring interview with Kathryn Pearson, slated to be conducted by Mark Comeau.
The microphone doesn’t remain in Kordy’s possession for long, as she soon drops it when faced with the image of the X-Class Champion on the ramp, which leads to the image of a masked woman’s boot in the ring. That boot nails Kordy right under the jaw with the superkick.
Dollar: But things went bad for Kordy, and the Harem….after Kathryn Pearson’s masked associate laid Price out with the superkick.
The results of that kick continue to be felt by the barely coherent Kordy, who just now is starting to come around….precisely in time for….
Sophie: No-no-no….hold on just a wee second dearies.
With Wright trapped between them, Mark and Sophie make their way to the stage, squaring off against a surprised and ill-prepared Harem.
Sophie: Have the three of you forgotten so quickly that we have a match this evening? Because my beloved brother and I haven’t….nor have we forgotten what the three of you have done to us in week’s prior.
Mark takes the microphone from his far more polite partner.
Mark: And you three aren’t about to forget what Total War does to your sweet arses as we get a measure of redemption.
The microphone is dropped to free up Mark’s hands, or more accurately, his fists. They go flying directly into Polly’s cheek while Sophie squares off with an already rattled Kordy. The fans are unified in their reaction to this slugfest.
Dollar: And here we go, Total War and the Harem battling it out on the ramp.
Sparkles: Can’t Kordy and Sophie resolve their differences via a kiss fight?
Dollar: Not with everything these two teams have put each other through.
The ringside area is reached and immediately Mark is powering Polly spine first into the apron, his shoulder wedged to her ribs
Kordy isn’t getting off lightly…..suffering the full weight of Sophie’s wrath.
A shocked Kordy is taken under the arm, and thrown into a hip toss that sends her back crashing into the steel ramp.
Dollar: Total War unleashing all their pint up hostilities on these two…..Remember, at Invictus, Sophie and Mark had the Tag Titles won, but then the Harem took advantage of Total War’s hardwork to rob them of the championships.
Polly is led around by the hair and eventually rolled into the squared circle, Mark nipping at her heels…or at least he would if it weren’t for BMW. She manages to secure one of his ankles and pull on it, dragging Mark to the exterior of the ring. Just as he lands on his feet BMW swings around and threatens to decapitate him via a spinning heel kick…..one that completely misses its target.
O’Brian ducks just in time and reacts just in time to the botched kick, to grab BMW by the hair, and throw her into the steel steps. BMW spins around with her back thudding against the steel, incapacitating her and perhaps removing one of the many obstacles standing between Total War and vengeance.
Dollar: BMW taken out by Mark.
Sparkles: Probably because he’s pro-life.
Sophie is pro-justice….climbing up the turnbuckle to unleash just that on an unsuspecting Polly down below. Norah is just now squirming across her belly before Sophie goes flying across the ring and ultimately drops both boots directly into Polly’s kidneys. The double stomp connects….the very move that defeated Total War several weeks ago.
Though Polly can’t verbalize her pain, it’s pretty clearly drawn across her face. She rolls to her back and Sophie is crawling over her front, hooking the leg.
Dollar: Does Total War have their retribution already?
The answer to that question?
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Is a no.
Polly manages to JUST get the shoulder up before the double stomp could lead to her team’s undoing.
Sparkles: Yay, Polly kicked out…which means I get to see some more of Kordy.
Speaking of Kordy, she’s presently crawling hand over hand back towards the ring, desperate to aid her partner, even if Price is the one in desperate need of assistance.
The only one presently providing any aid, is Mark, who extends his hand and waits for the tag. Sophie brings in the powerhouse of the team, yet O’Brian does something unfamiliar to a man of his proportions, ascending to the top rope.
Dollar: Where is Mark going?
Greyson: Looks like he’s going to come off that top rope onto Polly.
Mark crouches on the corner, anticipating a big dive unto the recovering Polly….and he does take to the air…..only to crash to the outside unto Kordy with a crossbody.
Dollar: AAAAAHHH…Crossbody block to the outside on Kordy.
Greyson: Mark just bait and switched us.
With Mark crashing to the outside, Sophie is about to go crashing inside…She climbs the turnbuckle once more and waits for Polly to turn around…turn around into a big crossbody off the top rope.
She lands….lands right in the clutches of Polly’s powerful arms. Norah then heaves her up and into a military press, about to slam her down to the canvas.
She lands…lands right on top of Polly’s chest after Mark rushes into the ring and delivers a big boot square to Norah’s chin. The blow collapses Polly and allows Sophie to land right across her stomach via a splash.
Dollar: Total War continuing to decimate Harem.
Sparkles: Get your cute ass in gear Kordy….come on already.
Sophie cannot take advantage of her position, not being the legal participant in this contest, so she rolls out of the ring and leaves Mark to finish this up. He takes Polly around the neck, rolls her over to her knees and subjects her a bruising forearm over the upper back. Then he hooks her arms, lifts Polly up to her feet and begins to deliver repeated knees to her chest and stomach. Those hooked arms are at last employed to flip Polly up and unto Mark’s shoulders with the tiger bomb.
Mark then turns away from the power of Harem in the nick of time to catch Kordy springing off the ropes in the hopes of blind siding him. But there is no blind-spot in which to take advantage of, Kordy soaring right into a devastating uppercut under the chin.
Dollar: Mark saw that one coming from a mile away.
Sparkles: Stop fucking up Kordy’s face you son of a bitch.
Kordy rolls across the canvas holding her fat lip while Mark reaches down to take advantage. The hands used to blast Price to the face are employed to grab her hair, dragging her along to her feet. Mark points to the ropes, getting quite a bit of support behind throwing Kordy to the outside, which is just what he does.
The Tag Champ goes soaring over and crashing back to the mats.
Mark then turns his focus back towards Polly, who is rushing in from behind with a double axehandle, hoping and failing to take advantage of the distraction. Mark’s hands once again shut that attempt down, catching Polly against his palms and heaving her up into the air. O’Brian lifts her right up into the military press only to have Norah reach down and rake his eyes.
The blatant shot on the corneas allows Polly to slip off the palms, drop behind Mark’s back, hook her arms around his waist and set for a German suplex. But Mark plants his feet, reverses the waist lock and steps around behind Polly, pushing her forward into the ropes. Just before they reach the cables, Polly ducks her head and Kordy’s foot goes flying over it and the ropes, nailing Mark straight in his face.
O’Brian staggers back and then Polly grabs the top rope currently being clutched by Kordy as she stands on the apron. Norah yanks on the ropes, sending Kordy flying over them and into a shoulder block on Mark.
The collision has O’Brian staggered but not going down. So what’s Polly to do? Go airborne herself, that’s what.
She leaps to the middle rope in the corner and then goes sailing into a GIGANTIC shoulder block that finally topples the brawn of the Total War.
Greyson: Looks like the Harem have got themselves back into this contest.
Dollar: A very important contest that could have dire repercussions on the Tag Title picture.
Total War hopes to achieve just that, getting themselves back into contention for the Tag Team Championships, but the Harem are not making this easy.
Kordy gets back to her feet and continues to be thrown around by her own partner. She rushes into the cables and springs off into the waiting hands of Polly, who throws her up into the air and lets her go splashing down right on top of Mark’s chest.
She then goes rolling away as Polly steps in and drops an elbow right to that very sternum. Her arm falls across the chest and the official falls into position.
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Mark isn’t about to let this chance at vindication slip through his fingers, getting his shoulder up well before the three.
But the door has been opened and the Harem are leaping through it…literally….Because Norah channels the spirit of Mike Awesome by delivering a standing frog splash variant. She crashes right down on top of O’Brian and again hooks his leg, desperate to put Total War away.
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Again O’Brian is forced to exert all his strength to get a shoulder up…and Polly is forced to make the tag.
Although Kordy’s bell is still rung via the superkick, she manages to charge across the ring, leave her feet and drop knee first right into Mark’s face.
Sparkles: There we go….keep on delivering moves like that Kordy…..they reveal more and more of your camel-toe.
The shot to the skull has Mark rolling to the ropes and trying to put his wounded cranium out of harm’s way. He ends up dropping his chin over the middle cable…which is not good considering it allows Polly to step across the apron and drape a leg across the back of his head. She basically sits down on the skull, choking him while Kordy has the referee’s attention….She accomplishes this by scratching Wright under the chin with a single finger and giving him that come-hither stare
Dollar: Come on Wright, turn around and for the love of God, DO YOUR JOB!
Sparkles: Stu is the luckiest man on the planet right now.
Wright is actually blushing as Kordy puts the moves on him so that Polly can put the choke on Mark.
In spite of Sophie’s protests, Wright continues to turn a blind eye to the move that now transitions from choke to strike. Polly rams her knee into Mark’s temple, sending him rolling back into the ring. Kordy at once tosses Mark aside, rushes across the ring and flips forward into a standing senton bomb right across the chest.
She rolls out of the senton to her feet and then employs those limbs to carry her into the ropes, leaping to the middle one. She springs off into at what first appears to be a moonsault but then twists around in mid-air to connect with ANOTHER senton variant.
Again she crashes across Mark’s ribs, potentially busting them. And greater pressure is applied to that wounded mid-section when Kordy makes the tag to Polly, who goes rushing across the canvas into a diving headbutt.
Her forehead slams directly into Mark’s ribs….and then so does her boots. They stomp to the mid-section continuously before Polly drops down beside O’Brian and begins to blast him over and over again to the ribs with a forearm. She now takes the point of her elbow and begins to grind it between two of those very ribs trying to get to the vital organs shielded beneath.
Dollar: Can’t fault the Harem for this strategy, going straight after Mark’s mid-section.
Sparkles: You can’t fault Kordy for anything…Anything I say!
The elbow is finally removed from the ailing mid-section of Mark and then it’s Polly’s knee that connects. She begins to drive her kneecap repeatedly into the ribs, providing even further internal bruising.
After the damage has been done to the abdomen of her opponent, Polly is confident enough to turn things over to Kordy, tagging her hand. Kordy then uses that palm to drag herself up the ropes, getting to the very top one. She extends her arms to her sides and unleashes the most devastating maneuver in her repertoire….the dreaded TWERK.
Sparkles: Oh yeah baby…shake it…shake it….someone give me a twenty.
Dollar: This is just embarrassing…Of all the times to do it…why must Kordy chose now to twerk?
Sparkles: Because it makes me the happiest puppet on planet earth.
The twerk has everyone in attendance simultaneously averting their eyes in disgust, but they wish they had kept their sights on the ring so that they could witness Kordy flying through the air only to be caught on Mark’s shoulder and hit with an atomic drop.
Dollar: OOOOH BIG ATOMIC DROP!
Sparkles: No Kordy!
The crotch and the backside of Kordy take a great deal of punishment, evident as she leaps back and reaches down for her lower extremities. Just then Mark unleashes a BRUTAL boot, delivered with such force that it actually sends Price into a total corkscrew.
Dollar: There’s the raw power Mark brings to his team.
Greyson: I think Kordy just made about seventeen revolutions.
With her face swelling, Kordy rolls towards her partner.
With his ribs pulsating with pain, Mark rolls towards his partner.
Kordy reaches out….
Mark reaches out….
Both hands connect with both partners simultaneously.
Dollar: Tags made! Who’s going to take the advantage?
We find out the answer to that question in a hurry….Sophie charging right into the waiting arms of Polly, who heaves her up into the tilt-a-whirl….nadda.
Sophie slips right out of Polly’s arms in mid-rotation, taking Norah around the neck and countering into a devastating DDT.
Dollar: What a counter…..a counter provided by Sophie.
Sophie’s speed and finesse is demonstrated by reversals just like that one. She continues to display it by kipping up to her feet. She’s not on them for long because Kordy quickly rushes in and avenges her partner by heaving O’Brian up into the scoop slam…a scoop slam that leads to Sophie countering by shifting her weight and dropping back into a sit-down reverse DDT.
Dollar: Another DDT variant perhaps bringing the O’Brian’s one step closer to at last defeating the Harem.
Sophie hurries along into a forearm to the cheek of an upright Polly, which threatens to put her right back down to the canvas. O’Brian then charges into the opposite cables, springs off and comes back in with a lariat, it connects, but fails to remove Polly from her feet. Instead Norah just stands there, staggered but not knocked over. So Sophie repeats the last move with the same results, Polly just standing there and withstanding the blow.
So Sophie AGAIN scurries into the ropes, ricochets off and comes back in with a third lariat…..this one missing its target. Polly ducks the inbound bicep and Sophie’s momentum carries her into the ropes behind the Champion’s back. Norah turns and predictably goes for a back drop….which proves devastating….for Polly.
Sophie manages to put on the breaks just in time to catch Norah around the neck and set for a snap DDT.
But Kordy has other plans, she quickly rushes towards Sophie to cut her off, but finds HERSELF cut off in the process. A boot to the gut doubles Kordy over and puts her in a dreaded spot, the front chancery right alongside Polly. Both members of the Harem are about to be subjected to a stereo DDT….but that stereo hisses and buzzes and breaks because Polly and Kordy manage to simultaneously stand up with Norah shoving Sophie up into the air, allowing Norah to escape the front chancery….But not Kordy. Sophie uses the momentum of Polly’s launch, to twist her airborne body and connect with a variation of the tornado DDT on Kordy still trapped in the front chancery.
Polly doesn’t even have a chance to reconcile with what she just did, before turning into a decapitating clothesline from Mark….this lariat finally removing her from her feet.
Dollar: Polly’s head almost severed via that high impact clothesline!
Sparkles: Remember, if any member of the Harem loses a head, I call dibs on it.
The crowd is going nuts as Total War turn this match back in their favor via that last sequence of high impact maneuvers. And the high impacts just keep getting….erm…..higher?
Polly has rolled under the ropes to the outside while Mark is climbing onto the apron, ready to further unleash his wrath. This time it takes the form of a leaping forearm, crashing over the upper back of the Tag Team Champion.
And another forearm is unleashed, this one from Sophie as it connects right against the bridge of Kordy’s nose. She holds onto the back of her rival’s head, delivering forearm after forearm after forearm, rapid fire and concussing blows that have her opponent’s legs about to cut out from under her.
The Belfast beauty then throws a boot to the ribs and an arm around Kordy’s neck, setting up for a move that has proven quite advantageous for her throughout this bout….the DDT. But just before Jake Roberts can spaz out….Kordy counters by swinging around out of the DDT, taking Sophie by the wrist and dragging her into a short arm lariat…..A short arm lariat that hits the air.
Sparkles: Yes…NO!
Sparkles reacts with such mixed emotions because the missed lariat causes Kordy to spin right around into the Death of Wisdom. The code breaker connects, causing the Harem rep to stand up, stumble around and eventually timber like a tree to her back.
Dollar: Death of Wisdom delivered….and after that superkick before the match I don’t think Kordy can manage to kick out of this one.
We may never know if that’s true or not.
What Sophie doesn’t realize is that outside of the ring, her brother is still brutalizing Polly only to have his rain of fists and forearms end so that he can drag Norah up to her feet and throw her into the ring-post. Her shoulder connects with the steel, her clavicle almost cracking as a result. She remains leaning against the post just as Mark goes flying through the air with a big splash….a big splash that connects with the POST.
Greyson: Did he mean to do that?
Dollar: No Greyson, I don’t think Mark meant to splash the turnbuckle post.
It’s not a clavicle but a skull cracked by the post, Mark dropping to the mats with scrambled brains.
This means Mark might not be conscious in time to see his sister crawling into the cover.
Sophie has Kordy prime for the picking, prime for the vengeance of Total War. She is on the cusp of scoring a win that will put her team back into title contention, but in actuality, she’s on the cusp of receiving a big running knee.
Polly rushes across the ring and throws the full force of her power behind the very knee strike that cost Total War the Tag Team Titles at Invictus.
The knee connects with the waiting arms of Sophie.
Dollar: Polly was going for that running knee strike that helped the Harem retain the Tag Team Titles at Invictus…but Sophie has her caught.
Before Polly can get over her shock, she finds her leg being pushed away from Sophie’s body, sending her spinning into the clutches of a recovered Mark.
O’Brian heaves her up and unto his shoulder, turning his back towards Sophie, who prepares to deliver the most devastating DDT of them all. Shock doesn’t even begin to describe Polly’s reaction as she is being driven down with the Sudden Jolt.
Dollar: Another DDT by Sophie, and this one might be the most vital to their success.
The Sudden Jolt has Polly on her back and Sophie racing into the cover.
Dollar: Total War about to defeat the Tag Team Champions.
Greyson: After quite the nasty spill on Polly’s head.
Like swarming bees, the crowd is swept into a frenzy by the visual prodding of Polly’s head pounding the canvas. Sophie is just about to capitalize as Wright finally does his job, sliding into position and slapping the canvas.
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The ref’s hand draws to the canvas into a third slap with the fans chanting along….but their reaction suddenly changes when a big punt kick nails Sophie in her forehead….delivered by….Jacob Laymon….and a big elbow drop hits Kordy to the chest….delivered by….Executioner?
Dollar: Ah come now!
Sparkles: The freak show is back.
The painted face of Laymon is consumed by a smile that shows all his meshing teeth. That grin only grows when the bell can be heard chiming in the background.
Mark responds, rushing across the ring to aid his sister only to almost be cut in half by a giant spear unleashed by Executioner.
Dollar: This God forsaken Pestilence has just cost Total War a chance at redemption.
Sparkles: Stay away from Kordy, you bizarros.
Greyson: Yes, and Sparkles and I do not care for ‘bizarre’ individuals.
Sparkles: Says the man who spends countless hours talking to puppets.
The boot…the spear….they all prove devastating….as well as what Jessica Wilde has in store. She currently stands on the top rope, looking down at her partners, and the destruction they’ve unleashed on Total War.
This destruction is exacerbated as Sophie rolls unto her back and Jessica takes advantage, flying through the air with a frog splash….a frog splash that connects directly to O’Brian’s face.
Dollar: Nooo…Jessica…noooo!
Sparkles: She just whooped Sophie with the ugly stick.
As all this violence is unleashed between potential challengers for their titles, Kordy and Polly are dragged out of harm’s way by BMW. She has also managed to procure the Tag Team Titles, handing them back to their rightful owners. Kordy almost crashes under the weight of the gold situated over her shoulder, but still manages to embrace it, increasingly grateful to have it in her possession.
Sparkles: Run Kordy….RUN!
That’s just what the Harem does, BMW helping Polly and Kordy to the back while in the ring….Jessica is subjecting Sophie’s face to punch after punch after punch, opening a gash in her hairline.
Dollar: Sophie is busted open!
Sparkles: Don’t freak out, most women bleed like this at least every other month.
Crimson flows down into Sophie’s eyes, yet she keeps them open long enough to stare into the face of Jessica….and hear her vile spiel.
Jessica: Haven’t you heard the news? There is no such thing as redemption….not for the IWC….not for Katelyn Buehler….and not for you.
Mark tries to get up and help his sister, but finds his arms trapped behind his back by the much bigger Executioner. This means he can’t help Sophie…he can’t even help himself…a fact Laymon takes instant advantage of. He rushes in and cracks Mark right to the temple with a running boot, knocking him down to the canvas the hard way.
Dollar: I guess much like the issues between the Harem and Total War, the problems between the Pestilence and the O’Brians is unresolved as well.
Perhaps further clarity can be provided by Jessica, who with blood smearing her palm, manages to take a microphone from the man who supplanted her as ring announcer, Thomas Boll.
Jessica: I heard the cackles of a little birdy….it squawked and squawked and squawked….it squawked about redemption….it squawked about taking the fight to my masters in the Sinistry….it squawked about coming out here for a fight.
Jessica crawls across the ring towards the bloodied Sophie.
Jessica: I just can’t stand the squawking anymore. It’s time to rip the wings off that bird and silence its squawks forever. Katelyn Buehler….you and I, we’re destined to draw blood tonight.
The liquid flowing from Sophie’s face is smeared across Jessica’s palms and raised towards the entry way.
Jessica: But I guess I got a little overzealous….I just couldn’t wait to get that blood flowing…..hehehehehe….GET OUT HERE LIL BIRD! Your fight isn’t with the Suicide Queen, it’s with ME! The woman who broke your hand. The woman who is going to break your face.
Jessica longingly gazes towards the entrance ramp, and then at the blood that submerges the palm of her hand. Her dark pupils peer from the slits of her mask, fixated on the fluid gathered across her fingers…fluid she shall purge Katelyn of should her challenge be answered.
Dollar: Pestilence causing this match to get thrown out and busting open Sophie O’Brian in the process.
Sparkles: These oddities have just fucked up the Total War….and now they want to fuck up that pasty super hotty, Katelyn Buehler.
Dollar: We’re supposed to get Jessica Wilde versus Katelyn Buehler in a First Blood Match, but are we going to be seeing it next?
The crowd reacts like they just ate an entire bag full of sugar and chased it with a twelve pack of Red Bulls while smoking meth and snorting pixy sticks. And what has got them so swept into a frenzy, the sight of Katelyn Buehler AND P. Clarence Whitman III, making their way down a corridor….a corridor that ends at the entry way.
Greyson: I believe this answers your questions, Johnny.
Dollar: That it does. Katelyn Buehler, joined by P. Clarence Whitman III, are headed out here to continue this war against the Sinistry, as Katelyn battles Jessica, under First Blood Rules.
Greyson: This should be ever so wonderfully violent.
Dollar: Buehler versus Wilde….one on one NEXT!
Gavin Taylor looks more perturbed than the fans of Dexter after the critically slammed series finale. He looks more angst ridden than a teenager in a John Hughes movie as he blankly stares forward, with the corners of his lips turned down into a frown.
Gavin: Adam…please let go of me.
The reason for his angst, the reason for his perturbed expression becomes evident when the camera pulls back to reveal Adam Chase latched onto his leg. He holds on tighter than a python, refusing to break his death grip.
Chase: NO.
Gavin: Honestly Adam, you’re just embarrassing yourself.
Chase: I’ll never let you go, Gavin…NEVER!
Gavin: Just accept it, Adam, we’re through….I’m done with being treated like an errand boy….I’m done with the broken promises…I’m done with Chase Global PERIOD!
Chase: I’m begging you, Gavin…I’m begging you!
Gavin: Just let go already.
It doesn’t matter how hard he shakes his leg, he just can’t detach Adam. Even as Taylor employs his other leg to step down the corridor, he’s forced to drag the entire weight of his ‘former’ agent along behind.
Chase: Gavin, I’m sorry…I’m sooo sorry for what happened on NewAge….You have to believe me, Kyle and I were only trying to do what’s right for Chase Global.
Gavin: Yeah, well, when is the time going to come when you do what’s right for me? My entire career in the IWC has been marred by your attempts to make me nothing more than an errand boy….just doing the bidding of Taylor Chase….of Orlando Cruze, and yourself. When’s it gonna be MY turn….Where are the main events I was guaranteed….and the titles I was promised?
Chase: Their coming Gavin, I prom…no…I swear to you, that from this moment forward, I will devote every ounce of my energy towards making you a champion and keeping you happy.
Gavin: And you accomplish this how? By letting Kyle strip me of the Evolution Championship, and then asking me to apologize to Black after laying out that walking disappointment?
Chase: Kyle was just…
Gavin: Yeah-yeah-yeah, doing what’s best for Chase Global….I’m sick to death of hearing that.
Chase: What do you want me to say then? What will it take to keep you on board with Chase Global?
The angst suddenly fades, the corners of Taylor’s lips turning up into a grin. He realizes that he has his agent bent over a barrel.
Gavin: How about you start by keeping a promise? Just one promise.
Chase: Anything.
Gavin: Get me the Evolution Title match I DESERVE….Use your connections to make sure that I get Andre Jordan one on one for the championship.
Chase: You betcha, I’ll do it…I’ll do it…
Gavin: Good…if you can deliver on that then MAYBE I’ll think about sticking with you as my agent.
Chase: You won’t regret this Gavin.
Adam detaches from the leg but only so he can leap to his feet and latch unto Gavin’s hand, shaking it excitedly.
Chase: You know we’re a perfect fit.
Gavin: Sure….Just get it done, Adam.
Now that his legs are unencumbered, Gavin is free to get away….Wait…nope….not happening….cause now it’s his HAND that is squeezed by Adam, impeding Taylor’s escape.
Chase: Ummmm, Gavin….now that we’re both back to reading from the same script, could you possibly do me one teensy little favor tonight?
Gavin: Excuse me?
Chase: I need you to really go out there and maim Danny Darko during your match, so Chase Global can make a good impression on William Mason.
Gavin: Are you serious?
Chase: Absolutely, if you HURT Darko tonight, William will be so appreciative that he instantly signs a talent contract with….
Gavin: You never do learn.
Chase: Erm….sorry?
Gavin: Just stay away from the ring tonight, and stay away from me PERIOD…I need time and space to think.
Adam looks sadder than a teenage girl viewing the Notebook.
Chase: If that’s what you really want, I promise I’ll stay away….
Gavin: Like your promises mean a damn thing.
Taylor finally breaks his hand out of Chase’s clutches, and walks off.
Kyle: Why do you let him talk to you like that?
The door leading to Chase Global’s private dressing room pops open and the man who was eavesdropping on this conversation the entire time peeks his head into the hallway. Kyle observes the grief on his agent’s face, and the anger in every step Gavin takes away from the agent.
Kyle: After everything you’ve done for that man’s career…
Black is so disappointed all he can do is shake his head, rendered incapable of even finishing his sentence.
Kyle:….Someone NEEDS to teach him respect.
KATELYN BUEHLER VS. JESSICA WILDE:
FIRST BLOOD
Upon returning to the interior of the Manhattan Center, we’re immediately bombarded with scenes of a bloodied Sophie O’Brian and her broken brother, Mark, being helped up the ramp by several referees and road agents. Total War employs this contingent of officials as makeshift crutches to aid them through the curtains where medical assistance will be administered.
Dollar: Total War in bad shape here ladies and gentlemen….
Sparkles: All thanks to that traveling side-show.
BEFORE THE BREAK
Clips feature Total War delivering the Sudden Jolt on Polly, as they prepare to claim victory over the Harem.
Dollar: Well, we just saw a tense situation play off backstage with Chase Global, but an even tenser predicament before the break…
Sparkles: And if you didn’t see it, you missed the super-hot Kordy out here in tight spandex…..Shame on you.
Dollar: She and her partner Polly Norah, were facing Total War in the next chapter of their tag team rivalry, and just when it seemed Mark and Sophie O’Brian were at long last closing in on victory….Pestilence intervenes.
Said intervention takes the form of a blood-letting, starting with a punt to Sophie’s face, continuing with a spear to Mark’s ribs, and punctuated with a frog splash onto a skull. The splash drawls blood from Sophie’s hairline, and fists to the gash only widens that wound.
Dollar: The Pestilence assaulting and bloodying Sophie O’Brian…..followed by Jessica making a major challenge to Katelyn Buehler.
With Sophie’s blood on her palm, the masked Wilde does not mask her desires…those desires being a first blood bout against Katelyn Buehler.
Jessica Wilde is pacing the ring and watching through the slits of her mask as Sophie is helped to the back….suffering the ramifications of the Pestilence’s broadside assault.
Dollar: Jessica continues to wait on Katelyn Buehler…and we all know it’s not going to be a long wait.
Greyson: I don’t think Buehler and Mr. Whitman know what they’re walking into here.
Sparkles: Hopefully a wardrobe malfunction on Buehler’s behalf.
Just as Sophie and Mark vanish through the curtains, Katelyn Buehler and P. Clarence Whitman III materialize through them. The tunes of “Satisfied” by Social Code, and the visual of Buehler and Whitman elicits quite the reaction. A reaction only exacerbated by Buehler’s forearm cracking the jaw of Wilde….
Dollar: This match is on, Jessica TRYING to attack Buehler on the ramp, but Buehler cuts her off with that lethal forearm.
The strike has the masked face of Jessica turning away from Buehler, who rushes in from behind and connects with another forearm, this one between the shoulder blades.
Jessica is further staggered, then spun around into a chest collapsing knife edge chop….a strike so swift and severe that it instantly blisters Wilde’s sternum.
Katelyn then hits another chop with equally as devastating force, one that almost topples Wilde, but Katelyn isn’t letting her go down, and she isn’t about to allow for any rest of any kind. She wedges her shoulder straight to Jessica’s spine, heaves her up into the air and dumps her via the back drop suplex on the steel rampway.
Dollar: The ramp once again being used as a weapon here tonight….Buehler back dropping Jessica right on top of it.
Greyson: Well, the Pestilence and the Sinistry, they’ve put Buehler through a lot over the past few months haven’t they?
Dollar: Including an attempted crucifixion last week on Riot!
Both Laymon and Executioner have seen enough, darting up the ramp to aid their teammate, but running right into the blows of Whitman.
Righteous right hands are unleashed by Clarence, deliving some good ole’ fashion fisticuffs to the faces of both Executioner and Laymon.
Dollar: Whitman valiantly coming to the aid of Katelyn…fending off the remainder of Pestilence.
Sparkles: I thought Whitman would be hanging back shitting in his underpants right now.
Dollar: Maybe true for the Whitman of old.
Whitman continues to hold the Pestilence at bay just long enough for Buehler to drag Jessica to her feet and now subject her to a scoop slam across the ramp.
A lung bursting scream emanates from Jessica as she sits up on the stage and reaches for her inflamed lower back. The inflammation only gets worse as Buehler pulls Wilde along and whips her towards the ring, Wilde taking an unfortunate turn that leads to her spine hitting the apron. She folds back over said apron and puts herself in place for the airborne Buehler, connecting with a big splash on Jessica’s chest.
Dollar: Katelyn just so SO fired up at this point, putting a thorough hurting on the woman who broke her hand with a frog splash several months ago right here on this very show.
At last the match gets into the ring, Katelyn rolling Jessica under the ropes and then following along behind.
The action in the squared circle is just as chaotic as outside of it….where Whitman delivers punch after punch to the jaws of Executioner and Laymon, leaving both men staggering back away from one another. Whitman lifts his arm and delivers a bionic elbow on Laymon, then he turns to do the same to Executioner only to walk right into the guzzle.
Executioner’s hand slaps down around Whitman’s throat and before he can react, he’s being heaved into the air and thrown from a chokeslam position, back first right into the steel turnbuckle post.
Dollar: Whitman could only last against these odds for so long….he was just CRUSHED against that ringpost.
Greyson: I suppose he didn’t mean to do that either.
Dollar: Absolutely not.
Like a sack of potatoes Whitman hits the mats, looking all together spent by that impact….and speaking of impact, one lands against Jessica’s cheek. Wilde has just gotten to her knees when she finds one of Buehler’s cracking against her face.
Katelyn takes her out and down to the canvas where Buehler sits on the sternum, beginning to pulverize the masked features of Wilde with punch after punch after punch.
Dollar: Buehler’s gonna bust Jessica open the same way Wilde did to Sophie a few moments ago.
Sparkles: If she’s bleeding I’m staying away from her, don’t want to catch a lady in mid ovulation….creates too many complications.
The punches stop and Buehler now begins to utilize her hands to ring Jessica’s neck. The gasping Wilde kicks her feet and tries valiantly to push the hands away from her carotid artery. Katelyn isn’t interested in choking her out though, she’s here for one thing, to bust that bitch wide open.
She may just accomplish that by pulling Wilde up to her seat by the throat and then delivering a straight headbutt to her skull.
Dollar: Katelyn putting her head into it.
Sparkles: Funny, I’ve imagined putting my head into Buehler several times.
The clearly outmatched Jessica is nailed with another headbutt from a feral Buehler.
She now grabs Jessica around her masked skull, sits her up and then gets a running start behind a devastating kick right to the face.
The shot, which may very well have broken Jessica’s nose, has left her thoroughly incapacitated and Buehler is looking to take advantage of this fact. She goes rushing across the ring to leap into the ropes, but instead she leaps right into the massive open hand of Executioner.
He catches Katelyn about the throat and before Buehler can react she’s being thrown into the air and ultimately chokeslammed back down to the canvas.
Dollar: Another chokeslam…another chokeslam by Executioner….the Pestilence taking full advantage of the no disqualification rules in a First Blood match.
Greyson: Say what now?
Dollar: There is only one way to end this match, Greyson, someone has to bleed….so count-outs….disqualifications….pin falls and submissions, don’t count on any of them.
And blood may just pour as Jessica rolls to the apron and capitalizes on her associate’s handiwork.
Executioner stands over Buehler with hateful eyes locked on his victim….Though those eyes should be on the ramp presently occupied by Silence and Mr. Hush. With Al chasing after the pair, the masked Black Crusade members go straight after Laymon at ringside and Executioner inside of the ring. Laymon wisely takes off into the crowd with Mr. Hush right behind him, and Executioner employs the same method to evade the wrath of Silence, the two disappearing into the stands.
Dollar: Black Crusade evening up the odds and chasing their rivals the Pestilence away from the ring.
Greyson: So it’s at last one-on-one then?
Sparkles: Shame…if anyone deserves a one on one with either Wilde or Buehler, it’s me.
Jessica pays no heed to the fact that her teammates have just been pursued out of the arena, because she’s currently balancing herself on the top rope. The crowd squeals as Jessica flies through the air and frog splashes Buehler’s face.
Dollar: FROG SPLASH!
Greyson: And good heavens, she did it right on top of Katelyn’s face.
Immediately after hitting this monstrous splash, Jessica rolls away and DEMANDS that official Fitzpatrick check on Katelyn. The official, who came to the ring in the thick of all this chaos, tries to confirm that it will all be over. He stoops over Buehler to determine rather she’s been busted open the same way Sophie was a few moments ago.
Dollar: Is Katelyn bleeding?
Jessica hangs back, leaning on the ropes and waiting to see the official’s determination.
Fitzpatrick finally confirms it….that Buehler is….NOT bleeding.
Dollar: That’s a no…no blood from Katelyn.
Sparkles: As of yet.
This news would normally disgruntle an athlete, but not in Jessica’s case. She stands up, backing to one of the turnbuckles and slapping her elbow several times while a callous smirk extends from one ear to the other.
Dollar: Oh no…you don’t think….Jessica’s not setting up for the KTFO is she?
Greyson: Is that not Katelyn Buehler’s finishing move?
Dollar: Ugh…yes…Greyson it is….Don’t you know anything about the company you work for?
Greyson: To be fair, Sparkles is the expert, I’m just his assistant.
Sparkles: That’s right, I get paid the big bucks, and Greyson here, gets the scraps. I bang the hot bitches, and he gets my sloppy seconds.
Dollar: Thank you so much for that visual.
Every fan watches with a foreboding since of tension as Buehler unwittingly begins to stand up, putting herself in tremendous peril….Peril in the form of her very own roaring elbow.
Buehler has just reached her feet before Wilde spins around and attempts to bust her open via the roaring elbow….emphasis on the attempts to…..
The second Wilde’s momentum carries her around into the elbow she finds another piece of her anatomy connecting….her face connecting with the canvas via the KBO.
Dollar: But Katelyn catches her…catches her with the KBO.
Sparkles: Can someone remind me what the ‘O’ initial stands for.
Greyson: We’re not going down that road Sparkles.
Jessica’s face caves in on impact, but it remains to be seen if she’s been busted open.
Official Fitzpatrick is in position to make that determination, but finds his job hindered by the presence of Wilde’s mask.
Dollar: Well this is interesting….that mask kind of makes it hard to see if Jessica is bleeding or not.
Sparkles: Plus it makes it hard for me to determine if she’s a butter face or not.
If she wasn’t a butter face before, she will be once Katelyn is through with her. Buehler isn’t waiting to hear the referee’s decision, she’s already backed into a corner and repeatedly slapping her forearm into her open palm.
Dollar: Katelyn setting up for it….setting up for the KTFO.
If the KBO didn’t do it…the KTFO WILL.
The cutter has Jessica absent mindedly working her way up to her feet, finally standing up and turning right into the roaring elbow.
Katelyn’s arm connects with and shatters the face of the Pestilence member the same way Jessica shattered Buehler’s hand.
Dollar: It connects….is she bleeding….is she bleeding!?!
The crowd stands in anticipation of hearing the official’s decision. The referee is currently checking on the unconscious Wilde, lifting back her mask to see rather her forehead has been punctured or not. But STILL there is no blood flowing, even after the head trauma of the KTFO.
Dollar: Jessica still not busted…as of yet.
Normally a combatant would be broken hearted to hear that she wasn’t victorious, but not Katelyn, because the fact that this match continues gives her even more time to pulverize Wilde.
Jessica, who has a swollen mass on her forehead, is crawling towards the center of the ring. A foot then comes stomping down right on her hand….Jessica screaming out in pain as her knuckles are crushed and held in place by Buehler’s boot. She slowly looks up with pleading eyes into the fist of Buehler, which crashes into her face over and over and over again.
Dollar: Katelyn with that lethal succession of right hands….
Sparkles: Jessica will probably be happy she wears that mask after Buehler is through with her.
The punches continue to be delivered until Jessica’s face is reduced to nothing but mush….still that isn’t enough for Katelyn. Who goes backing into one of the turnbuckles, lifts her arm and slaps it into her palm.
Dollar: Another KTFO coming.
Greyson: And this one WILL split Jessica’s wig.
Jessica tries to stand up…TRIES to put herself in position for Katelyn’s finishing maneuver. But it’s the position of someone else that suddenly has Katelyn’s attention. Her eyes avert to the stage, presently occupied by Hurse.
Dollar: Here comes Hurse….Katelyn’s good friend and former mentor.
Sparkles: Like this hot piece of ass needs anymore assistance.
Hurse doesn’t assist, he doesn’t do anything other than chillingly just stand there, watching from the stage.
Sparkles: What’s he doing? Picturing Katelyn in a an orgy with the Harem?
Dollar: I don’t know what he’s doing to be honest with you, Sparkles….Good lord, am I really carrying on a conversation with a puppet?
Buehler’s focus is misplaced, as it should be on the woman presently digging into her cleavage…..Jessica procuring a bladed crucifix.
Dollar: What the hell?
Sparkles: What else is she hiding between those things?
Dollar: Watch out Katelyn….please watch out.
Katelyn is watching, but it’s Hurse she has her eyes on…..and Hurse does nothing to warn her about the calamity behind her back. Just like on NewAge, he just remains fixed to the ramp with eyes fixed on the ring.
Just as Buehler arches her eyebrow in his direction, Jessica grabs her by the shoulder, spinning her around then drawing back the bladed crucifix. The squeals are deafening as the sharpened point travels directly into Katelyn’s….nooo….she side steps the weapon, swings around to Jessica’s side and delivers the SOL.
Jessica’s leg is swept out from under her and she’s sent flipping over in reverse, crashing across the back of her neck and shoulders.
Dollar: That sharpened crucifix just avoided by Buehler, who counters into a new move in her arsenal, the SOL.
Greyson: Yay….no blood then?
Dollar: At least no blood from Katelyn.
Quite a bit of aggravation has been inflicted on Jessica’s neck, as she goes rolling across the canvas, selling the effects of that devastating move. All the while the very weapon she TRIED to employ to nefarious means, is extracted from the canvas. Katelyn looks down at the crucifix and immediately begins to picture what she would like to do with it.
Dollar: That bladed crucifix now in Buehler’s hands, but we can all guess where it’s going to end up.
Sparkles: In Jessica’s kootch?
The crucifix waits to deliver absolution, absolution for Buehler from the Pestilence. She crouches in anticipation at this point, ready to do nothing short of murder Wilde.
The fans want to see it from the stands, the commentators want to see it from the announcer’s table, and Hurse wants to see it….from the apron?
Yep….Hurse has leaped to the apron and has captivated Buehler….drawing her focus to him.
Katelyn: What are you doing?
Without saying a word….without showing even a hint of emotion….Hurse just stands there and looks PAST Buehler….
Katelyn: Hello, Steven…
Her fingers snap in front of his face and she now waves her hands in front of him to absolutely no response.
But there is a reaction from the crowd, one Katelyn is too preoccupied to notice. A set of hands have reached under the ropes and taken Jessica by the ankle and the forearm, dragging her to the outside. Jessica is dumped to the floor and then pushed under the ring by…..Jessica Wilde?
Dollar: What….are we…..seeing?
Sparkles: TWINS…OH MY GOD….TWINS!
Greyson: Sparkles, you haven’t been this excited since I took you to see In a New York Minute.
They may not be twins, but the woman who just pushed Jessica under the ring is adorned in attire identical to Wilde’s…with a mask and long brunette locks flowing down her back. She then rolls into the ring and curls into a fetal position, emulating the posture that Buehler left Jessica in.
Dollar: We just saw a switch pulled.
Sparkles: Let me get in there and find out what’s going on.
Greyson: I think not Sparkles.
Once the switch has been pulled, Hurse drops down from the apron, turns his back on the ring and walks away.
Katelyn: Now where are you going?
There continues to be no answers provided by Hurse as he moves to the backstage area. His departure allows Katelyn to return her focus to the match at hand, closing in on the unconscious Wilde. She approaches with the blade still in her grips, and grabs ‘Jessica’ by the shoulder, turning her so that she can be subjected to even greater brutality. And that brutality comes in the form of a gavel cracking right across Katelyn’s forehead.
Dollar: HEY!
Sparkles: That bitch just brought the hammer down on Buehler.
The blow to the skull instantly splits Buehler’s forehead open, sending blood dribbling down her cheeks. Fitzpatrick sees this clear as day and as thus he calls for the bell.
Dollar; What just happened? What just friggin HAPPENED!?!
Sparkles: Who’s the chick in the mask?
The fans are BEYOND frustrated, verbalizing as much through some distasteful comments directed at the woman behind this swerve….the woman who stands with her back to the ropes and gavel in hand….the woman who stands over the bloodied Buehler….the woman who listens to the sound of the bell chiming repeatedly in the background…..the woman who pulls back her mask and her wig to reveal her identity as that of Rachel Foxx.
Dollar: It’s FOXX! She was behind this.
Sparkles: Of course she was, I knew it all along.
The expression on Foxx’s face as she stands over the bloodied Buehler has the crowd so antagonized they want to rush the ring and lynch the Suicide Queen.
Dollar: Rachel has just cost Katelyn Buehler ANOTHER win here tonight.
Sparkles: And she split the hoe wide open too.
The gavel is thrown aside and Rachel slowly follows it. She lingers for only a moment or two in order to observe the blood as it trickles down the face of an unconscious Katelyn.
Dollar: Dammit Rachel…just dammit.
Greyson: I couldn’t put it any better myself.
Katelyn is still recuperating from the bludgeoning blow from the gavel, and Maxine Moore is still in recovery from the shot with a steel chain….several shots actually. She sits backstage holding ice to her neck while her face tightens into an expression of pure rage, mind preoccupied with this latest vendetta.
Abigail: I can’t believe she did this to you…I mean WHY? Is it because she’s trying to get to me through you? Is it because she’s envious of our relationship? Why can’t she just put our history behind us?
Maxine: Abi….Abi….Abi…
Surprisingly its Maxine who’s calming Abigail down.
Maxine: I don’t care why Cassidy did it…the deal was done…and now she’s gonna suffer the consequences.
Abigail: Yeah….wait…what do you mean by that?
Maxine: You should know exactly what I mean.
Moore starts down the corridor with Abigail TRYING to keep up with her.
Abigail: Oh lord, you’re in no condition for this….Stop and think….Wait-WAIT!
In spite of Abi’s protests, nothing is going to stop Maxine from getting just a taste of payback.
BEFORE THE BREAK
Footage of Katelyn Buehler battling it out with Jessica Wilde…no…not battling it out….Katelyn DOMINATING Wilde….and potentially setting her up for the ultimate blood-letting.
Dollar: IWC….where the madness never ends.
Sparkles: I’d much rather it be….IWC….where full frontal nudity never ends.
Dollar: I’d take that over what we just saw in the ring when Katelyn Buehler was battling it out with Jessica Wilde in a First Blood match.
Greyson: Yes, and it appeared that victory was well within her capable hands
After Executioner tossed Whitman into the turnbuckle post with a modified chokeslam….and the Black Crusade pursued the Pestilence to the back..it allowed Buehler to absolutely eviscerate Wilde. She hits the KBO, the KTFO, and the SLO….so many abbreviations, and so much agony.
Dollar: Buehler was just tearing Wilde apart with a lethal barrage of moves which was just about to culminate to Katelyn striking pay-dirt and purging some blood from Wilde.
With a bladed crucifix in hand, Buehler is about to impale Wilde only to have those plans horribly go awry when the unthinkable is witnessed. An unconscious Jessica is dragged to the outside of the ring and thrown under by an individual who just materialized from beneath the squared circle. This woman, adorned in the exact same apparel as Wilde, slides into the ring and sucks Katelyn into her web….The spider then lashes out with a venomous strike from the gavel, busting Buehler wide open. Her identity is then revealed as that of Rachel Foxx.
Dollar: Buehler so close to keeping the winning streak going only to have Rachel Foxx pull off one of the most disgusting swerves we’ve ever seen.
Greyson: She masqueraded herself as Jessica Wilde, wearing the same mask in order to set Buehler up for failure.
Dollar: She busted Katelyn wide open with the gavel and caused her a major loss tonight. But the story didn’t end there, because the action continued throughout our commercial.
DURING THE BREAK
The crowd continues to sympathize with the woman kneeling on the ramp, that woman being the bloodied Katelyn Buehler. She just kneels there on the steel, looking through her mask of blood with agonized and emotional eyes. A litany of referees and road agents stand around Buehler, trying to give her aid, but she is not receptive.
Katelyn: RAAAAACHEL!!!
Driven by nothing but emotion, Buehler storms towards the backstage area, continuing to deny the attempts at assistance.
Katelyn: RRRRRRAAAACHEEELLLl!!!
One of the curtains is actually torn down from the entry way by an infuriated by Buehler.
Dollar: Katelyn out of her mind with anger, and understandably so.
Sparkles: I pity the fool who crosses her path tonight.
Dollar: Foxx has certainly brought down the full wrath of Buehler upon herself. But again…the story doesn’t end there….as even more transpired during our break.
DURING THE BREAK
With the emotion of this entire tense situation still hanging heavy over the building….one might have missed the attempts of Simon Cagero to aid P. Clarence Whitman III….who after that sickening toss into the turnbuckle, remains seated on the mats, cradling his wounded back with his hands.
Dollar: We saw Simon Cagero actually come out here and TRY to help up Whitman.
Greyson: Yes, but it doesn’t look like Whitman was very receptive of Simon’s attempts.
Sparkles: Can you blame Wiggy? Who knows where Simon’s hands have been.
In spite of Cagero’s best efforts to lend some help to Whitman, just like in weeks prior, Clarence will not accept it. In a rare display of rage, Whitman swats aside Simon’s hands and gives Cagero the good old fashion stink eye. This is followed by Whitman attempting to jaunt backstage in an effort to avoid Cagero, but Simon is still trailing behind him, though at a distance.
Simon: Clarence….PLEASE talk to me man….
Whitman won’t even look at Cagero, let alone talk to him.
Clarence’s eyes are focused on the hallway, and there’s no looking back, especially not towards the individual hurrying along behind him. An individual desperate for some reconciliation.
Simon: Come on fucker, we need some closure here.
Whitman stops….stops cold…..and in spite of his misgivings, he actually turns his eyes to the pleading Cagero.
Whitman: Closure? You believe I owe YOU closure? No sir, you are sorely mistaken.
Simon: There’s no fixing what happened between us, I realize that I betrayed your trust….that I did something really….really horrible the night of your wedding…..But come on fucker, how long are you going to hold onto this grudge? Let it go already.
Whitman eyes are bulging out of his skull…he raises his hand, but not into a fist, instead it’s a finger shaking right in font of Simon’s face.
Whitman: There is nothing….no force on earth that would make me forget what you did with my mother….Not only have you given cause for my parents to divorce, but the scars of seeing you lying in bed with Mother will NEVER be removed from my mind. So please, I beg you, stay away, stop trying to be chaps with me….it will never happen…
Simon: But Clarence, we’ve GOT to get along man.
Whitman: It shall not happen, Sir….
Simon: You don’t understand, you HAVE to forgive me…..
Whitman: NEVER!
Whitman eyes turn back towards the hall, watching the floor he traverses as he eagerly flees from the man who has finally given up his pursuit.
So much drama throughout the building tonight, so a close up on Mark Comeau’s smiling teeth is a welcomed change of pace. Plus the crowd gets excited to have him standing in front of the barricade, giving them all that ever so precious opportunity to feel famous by getting their faces on the Cartel-tron. At heart, Mark does not share their enthusiasm, his back ailing from that scoop slam, with pain meds only providing a marginal release from his agony.
Mark: Hopefully Cagero and Whitman can get their relationship issues settled without getting Dr. Phil involved….but speaking of men who clearly need psychological help, at this point I want to introduce everyone to a man who willingly signed a contract to become a resident of this loony bin known as IWC….
The man stood behind the barricade just to the right of Mark’s shoulder gets the spotlight treatment, one he seems to humbly embrace.
Mark: Chris Davids….
His name is revealed….and it’s one some may recognize due to his past association with other esteemed federations.
Mark: The ink is still drying on your contract, so I’m sure you can get out of it if you’ve got a good agent.
Davids: I think I’ll make an actual go of it thank you.
Mark: That’s cool, it’s your health insurance premiums that will skyrocket, not mine.
Davids: After what I’ve seen thus far tonight, I’ll make sure to get myself a qualified physician.
Mark: Good idea. Now Davids, you’ve literally been sitting here all night long spectating…What force on earth could have possibly compelled you to sign up for this hot-mess?
Chris debates how to field that question.
Davids: It’s an odd place, I’ll say that much, but I’m no stranger to being involved in unusual situations. I’ve developed a bit of a tolerance for insanity….And besides, just how crazy can this truly be?
The chillingly familiar tones of Rammstein blare through the building and abruptly cut off Chris right in the midst of his debut interview….a fact that doesn’t sit too well with Mr. Davids.
And the arrival of Ba’al, with Jaina following along behind wearing her brother’s NHB Championship over her shoulder, doesn’t sit too well with ANYONE on planet earth.
Dollar: Have we not seen enough of the Sinistry? Seriously? How much more damage can this group inflict here tonight?
Sparkles: Ba’al’s sister is smoking hot.
Dollar: Would you like to tell her that?
Sparkles: I’d much prefer to keep my cotton inside my body.
Chris, along with the entirety of the crowd, watches as the number one contender for the World Championship, and his enchanting sister enter the squared circle.
Ba’al: Finality….
His words seep like pus through the speakers thanks to the microphone he carried along to the ring with him.
Ba’al: It is what has been promised this evening….a cease to the hostilities….an end to the violence…..the final execution of justice. The reckoning is upon us….and my words now serve as a prelude to the denouement ahead. I wish to merely add weight to the merit of this moment, for this WILL be the END….And no force….not the Black Crusade…not the Blacklist….not Buehler…not Whitman…not Robert….no irredeemable soul in this bastion of corruption can change that.
Perhaps he spoke too soon….because if there’s anyone who can put an end to Ba’al, it’s Taylor Chase, the World Heavyweight Champion.
Her entrance music already proves capable of silencing Ba’al….and now her arrival has his eyes adjusted to the stage.
Dollar: Taylor Chase has something to say about that.
Sparkles: There is a God….Taylor is wearing jeans so tight you can see rather the change in her back pocket is facing us heads or tails.
The tension has reached a whole new level as Chase slides through the ropes, briefly stares down Ba’al, then ascends a turnbuckle to raise her World Championship belt high above her head. The response she gets is absolutely deafening.
This reaction only dies down when Taylor grabs a microphone and gives the fans something worth listening to.
Taylor: Listen Count Chocula, everyone is getting sick of this little act. Sin this, sin that…redemption, judgment, execution….yadda-yadda-blah-blah-same old shit…..Can it already.
Ba’al cans nothing….Taylor’s demands only inspiring further dialogue.
Ba’al: Mrs. Chase, you’re looking to be in quite a tizzy this evening….Is something wrong? Has certain videos produced by our illustrious audio and visual department angered you?
The video that opened tonight’s Riot sticks in Taylor’s crawl, but she will not let Ba’al use that piece of distasteful footage to get a rise out of her.
Taylor: No…what’s got me hostile, is the redundancy of your claims. You’ve been promising judgment for months now….and warning everyone about this ‘execution’ you were going to deliver. Which is just fine and dandy, only you’ve still not delivered….
Ba’al: Rest assure my dear, I can change that….You on the other hand can do nothing to change the opinions of these fans.
Still Taylor resists taking the bait and latching onto these comments.
Ba’al: In spite of your misguided effort to win over these disreputable retches, they still have no respect for you. Sure, they’ll smile through clinched teeth while in your presence, but the second this show ends, they shall be on the forums, they shall be on their Twitter devices, and they will be sullying your reputation towards anyone who will listen. They will make disparaging comments about your level of talent….or lack thereof….and make controversial comments referring to you as Super-Woman, only in jaded, smarkish tones.
Taylor: Ba’al….Listen, I’m use to hate, I can stomach criticism. So you might want to try a different tactic than using the words of a few trolls to TRY and get in my head. I don’t respond to their scathing comments, and I don’t respond to yours.
Ba’al: By all means, continue to believe this to be the truth, but your manager, Silas Mason, he and the rest of the world know otherwise. We have seen it in your eyes….in your face…we see that your mind is consumed by the petty insults directed at your character and your title reign. It is gnawing at you, Taylor, it is corrupting your mind, all the hate is twisting you into a feral animal….and Silas, he is taking advantage of this FACT.
Taylor: He might think that, but it’s not true.
Ba’al: Of course it is, Taylor, of course it is. And as long as we are being completely honest with one another, I must confess that it would be advantageous for you to follow Silas’ twisted wisdom. Perhaps you should attack individuals while their backs are turned. Maybe you should make use of steel chairs. Because these ‘underhanded’ tactics Mason attempts to familiarize you with, they are the only way you will ever be capable of defeating individuals of my elite standing.
Has Taylor been stung by these statements? Time to find out.
Taylor: Nice words Ba’al….but that’s all your full of….words….Me, I speak via action, and if you haven’t been paying attention, my actions are SCREAMING Champion!
She slaps the World Championship several times.
Taylor: Lukas Montgomery, Aaron Harrison, Jackson Adams, LEGION….they’ve all tried to not only take my championship but dictate what type of person I’m going to be. But everyone of them have been defeated, and everyone of them have failed to change who I am. Silas Mason isn’t going to be any different, and neither are you….I’m still going to be the multifaceted, versatile, and dynamic Taylor Chase everyone knows….loves…RESPECTS.
Ba’al shakes his head.
Taylor: And for all the words being thrown around, there are only three…THREE that actually matter….THREE that have become synonymous with success…three that will be screamed by one and all after Extreme Fury….I did it….
Her eyes begin to cut back and forth towards the crowd.
Taylor: I did it.
Several have now latched on and are joining the bouncing ball.
Taylor: I DID IT!
The crowd is compelled to chant along.
Taylor: I DID IT!!
The whole building reverberates with this endearing chant….exhilarating the crowd….pumping the audience….getting them to really help drive home her point.
The entire time Ba’al just stands there, absorbing this….processing this….quietly analyzing this. The chants of the crowd, the gyrations of Chase, the love being reciprocated, Ba’al weighs in upon it all, and after several moments finally reacts.
Ba’al: Mrs. Chase-Cruze, pander to these sycophants if it makes you feel better about yourself, go on seeking your validation. Your only victory will be forcing these dancing monkeys to pander to your egotism….
Taylor turns her focus from the chants of the fans to the vile words produced by a single entity.
Ba’al: Also, Mrs. Chase-Cruze, I have one more statement need be made…
Chase is all ears, but it’s her cheek that takes the brunt of the impact….a back handed slap connecting with her face.
Ba’al: Do not be seduced by the chants of these fans, they just yearn for something to cheer for, something to latch unto, such as your pathetic song and dance. But at heart, they harbor about as much respect for you, as I. For you are a vile, condemnable harlot, a villain who employs intercourse as a means of personal gain. A villain who….
The blow both to her face and her ego gets quite the response out of the World Champion….who once again silences the Prince of Sin, this time via a big uppercut to the jaw. The stiff and swift blow has the NHB Champion stumbling back, swinging his arms to remain upright. Though he is not on his feet for very long, because Chase is leaping into his arms with a Lou Thez Press.
Dollar: Chase has heard enough, she’s on him….
Sparkles: I hope Ba’al appreciates just how lucky he is to have Taylor on top of him right now.
Dollar: Revenge for not only his words but the deliberate assaults Ba’al has perpetrated upon Chase and her best friend Kelcey Wallace in recent weeks.
Fist after fist after fist slams against Ba’al’s cheeks, to a response Chase had not anticipated.
Ba’al: Does this make you feel better Mrs. Chase-Cruze? Better about your circumstances, better about the truth?
His words only inspire more fists to be delivered….and they don’t stop being driven against Ba’al’s lips and teeth until Jaina gets involved. She rushes towards Taylor and swings the NHB Championship towards the back of the World Champion’s skull. But plans are averted by the lightning fast reflexes of Chase. She not only ducks in time to avoid being bludgeoned in the skull with the gold, but then takes off into the ropes behind Jaina.
Unfortunately Frost’s reflexes are not as fast as Taylor’s. She turns and gets caught around the neck, Taylor pulling her down into the very move that retained her the championship at Invictus, the Taylor Made. The leaping downward spiral slams Jaina’s face into the canvas and takes out another member of the Frost clan.
Though it’s a member of the clan that Taylor should not spend so much time gloating over. She stands above Jaina, staring down into her barely conscious features, which opens the door for Ba’al to come rushing in from behind. He takes Taylor by the back of the head and the waistband of her pants, charging her towards the turnbuckle and throwing her through shoulder first into the exposed ringpost.
Sparkles: Hey bud, that’s no way to show your appreciation to Taylor for straddling ya.
Dollar: Ba’al attacking Taylor when her guard was down. For such a morally righteous individual, there are truly no depths the man will not sink to.
Chase’s clavicle has just connected with the steel, when Silas Mason and Kelcey Wallace come scrambling down the ramp to provide some crucial aid.
Dollar: Back-up, if you want to call it that, coming out here for Taylor.
Silas stops at ringside, his support extending to words rather than actions. He directs Kelcey, who now has a chair in her clutches as she goes after the Prince of Sin.
Dollar: Kelcey with a chair, and she’s going to pulverize Ba’al with it.
The chair connects with Ba’al’s upper back, sending the NHB Champion stumbling forward to the center of the ring. Pain surges through his body, one that turns towards a second chair shot aimed at his skull. She only stops in mid-swing due to Jaina’s interference. Somehow Frost manages to get to her knees, still barely conscious, and lunge into a big squeeze on Kelcey’s knee. She has hold of the leg with the force of a bear-trap, and will not let go. So Kelcey tries to shatter the trap, lifting the chair and driving it down over the upper back of Jaina repeatedly. But the strikes to the spine are a sacrifice Jaina is willing to make on her brother’s behalf. For the distraction to Kelcey allows Ba’al to rush in from behind and crack her to the back of the neck with a leaping forearm strike…one that drops Wallace to her knees.
Dollar: Jaina saving her brother again…and now that has set up Kelcey for the Totalis.
Shortly after dropping Wallace to her knees, Ba’al crouches in anticipation of delivering the his leaping inverted bulldog…..He has designs to bring the Perfect 10 down to a zero. He is on the verge of leaving his feet to annihilate Chase, only to have his plans annihilated by….Lucas Knight.
Yes, the co-number one contender and ‘good’ man actually does commit a good and noble act, by sliding into the ring, snatching Ba’al by the shoulder. But its not the only thing Knight takes hold of, as Ba’al soon learns the second he’s spun around into a chair shot between the eyes.
Dollar: Lucas Knight…YAAAH…what a shot from the chair!
Sparkles: He just dropped Ba’al like soap in the shower.
Ba’al’s brain is off in another realm, evident by the sporadic blinking of his eyes and his slacked jaw. The warped chair remains in Knight’s clutches as he turns to eye Kelcey Wallace. Obviously he has no intent on striking Wallace with the steel, in spite of her association with Silas Mason…the very man he WOULD cave in the skull of.
The chair is thrown aside now that it has serviced Lucas’ needs. Though he instantly wishes he maintained possession of it when Silas leaps to the apron behind him, putting himself directly in harm’s way by verbally sparring with Knight.
Dollar: Is Silas crazy? He must have a death wish.
Lucas doesn’t need the chair to shut Mason up, employing his fists instead. He swings knuckles at Mason, who leaps from the apron just in time to avoid being forced to choke on his own teeth.
Silas staggers back from the squared circle and watches at this point as Kelcey picks up the chair, slams it down into the canvas to create a resounding thud and then throws it towards Knight.
Lucas turns around, reacting to the sound of the chair shot, and catching the steel before it could hit him. But Wallace wasn’t attempting to hit Knight with the chair, she wanted him to catch it….because the second he does, Kelcey throws herself down to the canvas, playing possum. Obviously Knight is confused, just like the fans….but all suddenly becomes clear once Taylor turns around and spots Knight standing over Wallace with the dented chair in his hands.
Dollar: Wait a New York minute here….
Sparkles: God I love the Olsen Twins.
Greyson: We’ve covered that already, Sparkles.
Dollar: Kelcey just….she just set up Lucas.
Knight is caught STEEL handed. Taylor looks between her best friend, who continues to act unconscious and the man stood over her with the warped chair in his clutches.
Taylor: You-you-WHY!?!
There is no explanation that Knight could give at that moment to placate Taylor…though it doesn’t stop him from trying. He throws down the chair and steps towards Taylor with palms defensively raised.
Silas: That bastard….that son of a bitch…Kelcey never saw it coming Tay! She trusted Lucas, just like ya’ trusted that piece of dirt.
Knight doesn’t even get a chance to speak due to all of Mason’s barking. And it’s up to Taylor to add the bite. She lunges into the air and connects with the dropkick on Knight, knocking him back and through the ropes to the exterior of the ring.
Dollar: And now Chase has just taken out Knight…..She doesn’t realize this was all a set up….a set up by Silas World.
Greyson: Aren’t our esteemed World Champion and Lucas Knight scheduled to team tonight in our main event?
Dollar: Yes, and Silas has put a significant amount of strain on that partnership this evening….that’s for sure.
After knocking Lucas from the ring, Taylor scoots towards Kelcey, taking her head up into her arms and stroking her hair. Rage consumes and twists Tay’s mind as her smoking eyes turn towards Knight on the outside of the ring, bringing a tremendous amount of heat down upon him.
Dollar: It looks like Silas’ plans are all coming together.
Evident by the giant smile plastered over Mason’s face, one he hides from the World Champion.
Rachel Foxx: At long last you proved ‘useful.’
This is the greatest compliment that Jessica Wilde has ever heard in her life. From her kneeling position on the floor the now unmasked Wilde looks up into the face of a legitimately pleased Foxx.
Hanging from one of Rachel’s hands is a gavel, and the other is consumed by Wilde’s mask.
Rachel: That whore thought that our issues were at an end….that she had achieved her redemption….But she has no understanding of the lengths I will go to in order to see our cause realized. Her scope is so limited, Her mind is so feeble after years of indulging in elicit substances. She can’t see, Jessica, not like you, not like the rest of my Pestilence.
Her hand strokes back the locks of Jessica’s hair, as her face falls into the caress of the Suicide Queen like a kitten being petted.
Rachel: She’s going to be like everyone else. Nobody will see the end coming….no one will be prepared for the execution tonight.
Jessica: Their reactions will be beautiful, my Master, oh so beautiful.
Rachel: Their cries of the sinners as their world is washed away will be a melody to our ears.
A knock comes at the door of the dressing room, ceasing the foreboding comments shared between Wilde and Foxx.
Rachel: Continue to prove yourself useful and answer the door would you?
Jessica: Your wish is my command, Master.
It hurts every inch of her just to stand up, but Jessica manages to straighten her back and her legs, using her battle weary limbs to carry her towards the door. Before it even has a chance to fully open a roaring elbow comes flying into the room and cracking Jessica directly in the cheek.
Wilde falls onto the carpet as a bloodied Katelyn Buehler steps unto it.
Katelyn: RRRRACCCHEL!!
The ravenous gaze of one Katelyn Buehler examine the confines of the dressing room, but there is no Rache Foxx in site. She has completely vanished into the ether, or maybe she just made use of the extra door in the back of the room….we just prefer to think she has some weird mystical vanishing capabilities because it be so much more awesome.
Once it’s confirmed that Rachel utilized her heightened sense of awareness to avoid utter calamity, the wrath of Buehler returns to Wilde. She snatches hold of her head, drags her up to her feet and then throws her into the wall, which Jessica bounces off of HARD.
Katelyn: We’re not through yet you little bitch.
Buehler’s foot travels right into Wilde’s heart, stomping it with such force that she threatens to cave in the sternum. Collapsing the chest isn’t good enough though, as Jessica’s head proves a more inviting target. Katelyn pulls Wilde’s skull into the doorway and then slams the door shut, driving it into the side of Jessica’s cheek.
Abigail: Your in no condition for this Widow…..Please!
Maxine: Cassidy is gonna die tonight.
Focus shifts from the head that was just crushed in the doorway, to the two individuals marching down the corridor just beyond said doorway. Well, one is marching, the other is limping. Maxine can barely hold herself up as she stumbles towards the ring.
Abigail: You’re not thinking clearly, Widow.
Maxine: I’m not through with that little bitch.
They pass right by the doorway, which is open just enough for Jessica’s face to be seen lying partially in the hallway. That head vanishes when Wilde’s dragged into the room and the door is shut, trapping her inside with Buehler.
The wrist watch is checked AGAIN, and once the time has been confirmed, Danny Darko frowns.
Darko: Grrrr….
Yes, Danny just growled….deal with it.
And he’ll probably growl even louder once he meets with the individual currently speeding into the parking lot. Screeching tires and the flash of headlights alert Danny to the arrival of his associate, barreling towards him in a Lamborghini Veneno Roadster.
Darko: Really?
Danny blanches at the sight of the excessively overpriced automobile, which stops on a dime mere inches removed from his body. The only reason Darko has to step back is to avoid the door that goes flying into the air with that futuristic woosh sound.
William Mason: Daniel…Funny meeting you here.
Darko: Been waiting on ya.
Mason: Have you now?
He steps out of the vehicle, which probably isn’t even street legal, removing his leather gloves and his sunglasses.
Darko: Me thinks we need to have a chat, old friend.
Mason: Absolutely……I’ll have my secretary pencil you in for a meeting later this week.
Darko: Excuse me?
William is kind enough to remove his IPad, checking his entirely too crammed schedule.
Mason: Yeeeeahh….might be able to get you in on a Thursday afternoon, we’ll do lunch.
Thinking that he’s said his peace, William goes to conduct other business only to find his sleeve caught on something….that something being Danny’s hand.
Darko: When I said we need to talk, I meant NOW.
Mason: Daniel? Would you kindly remove your hand from my suit? It cost more than your home.
The hand is going nowhere, and neither is Mason.
Darko: Okay, that’s enough…What’s with this attitude?
Mason: My attitude?
Darko: Like your comments over Twitter directed to MY WIFE.
William smiles.
Darko: That crossed a line man….And it was completely uncalled for.
Mason: I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were so thin skinned. The Darko I USED to know wouldn’t be so easily offended. So why don’t you dry your eyes and get over it, Care Bear?
Darko: William….listen….
Darko is trembling he’s so upset.
Darko: The only reason you’re not lying on the ground in a pool of your own blood, is because we have so much history.
Mason: Oh Daniel, haven’t you realized yet? In this business history is meaningless. It’s all about what you’ve done for me lately, and all you’ve done is hold me back, and limit my potential. I’m a future IWC Champion, I’m the FACE of this company….And you, Daniel, you’re the most ignored man on the planet….for good reason. You’re going nowhere, and you’re not going to take me along for the ride. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some business offers to entertain.
Mason at last slips his suit out of Danny’s clutches and parts ways with his former friend, for good reason, given the homicidal gleam currently in Darko’s eyes. Although Danny released the sleeve, he’s not about to let go of this issue.
Spencer Klein just couldn’t look any more morose if he tried….thoroughly unimpressed by this humdrum telecast thus far….one he continues to watch from the rafters.
Dollar: If matters weren’t already complicated enough….we’ve STILL got Spencer Klein in the rafters watching tonight’s show.
Sparkles: Is he Steve Borden all of a sudden?
Greyson: Wow Sparkles, you just made a wrestling reference.
Sparkles: Did I? I swear I didn’t mean to.
If there is one thing that could snap Spencer out of his dreary daze, perhaps it would be the tunes provided by Sugarcult and the prospect of more barbarity. Barbarity inflicted at the hands of “The Red Widow” Maxine Moore. In spite of the protests of the woman following along behind, Abigail Lindsey, Maxine is staunchly in pursuit of revenge….Injuries or no injuries, Maxine’s mind is occupied only with the thoughts of the reprehensible tortures she is about to inflict upon Cassidy Cage.
Dollar: And the violence continues to escalate here tonight on Riot….
Sparkles: Can’t we see Maxine and Abigail doing their lesbo motorcycle ride again? That equals ratings in my pants, if you ask me.
Greyson: Nobody will consult you should you continue to make disgusting comments like that.
EARLIER TONIGHT
Cut to a scene from backstage that will add some necessary backstory to this pending battle. The reasoning behind Maxine storming the squared circle becomes clear the moment fans are forced to relive the image of her being heinously assaulted backstage by Cassidy and Cage’s chain wrapped fist.
Dollar: Maxine a little emotional here tonight because….
Sparkles: They ran out of Midol?
Dollar: No, right after a conversation between she and Tabitha Silverstone, Cassidy Cage jumped her from behind and brutalized her with a chain.
Sparkles: Awww…I’d much rather see Maxine IN chains.
Dollar: Chains might be needed to constrain her rage here tonight.
Maxine: Cassidy Cage…
The Red Widow and the spunky Serenity, are side by side in the middle of the ring, one anticipating a fight, and the other trying to talk her bodyguard out of said fight. And for good reason, because it appears Moore is in no shape to handle a battle, unable to even conquer the fight of staying on her feet. She drops to a knee while addressing the backstage area.
Maxine: I’ve sat back way too damned long and let you get away with murder. I should have tore you limb from limb at Invictus, and I would have, if Abigail wasn’t such a sweetheart and so kind hearted. But not even she is going to stop me tonight.
Lindsey certainly does try, but fails. The sight of Maxine unable to even bare the full weight of her body on wobbly legs is obviously putting a great deal of strain on Abigail as well.
Maxine: Cassidy, you can bring your chain, you can bring a tank, you can bring the national guard if it makes you feel more comfortable, but one way or another, you’re bringing your ASS out here so that I can kick it.
The microphone is flung out of the ring and inhibitions are thrown aside, Maxine cracking her knuckles in anticipation of throwing them into Cage’s face
Greyson: It looks like we’re getting just as you speculated, Dollar.
Dollar: Can you try calling me, Johnny D?
Greyson: Whhyyyy?
Dollar: I don’t know, I just kinda got used to it.
Sparkles: Awww, someone misses Susie, don’t worry, so do I….Can’t tell you how many times I told her she had to tie her shoes just so I could see her bend over….and the best part is, her shoes are Velcro.
The wait for retribution won’t be too long, because almost immediately Cassidy Cage, never one to shy from a battle, comes rushing down the ramp.
Dollar: Challenge accepted.
Sparkles: Good, more Cassidy equals more spank bank material.
Greyson: Sparkles, I don’t even think you’re going to be capable of getting off on what happens next.
Unless Sparkles is secretly a sadomasochist that is.
The trusted hand of Abigail, Maxine, prepares as best she can for the woman bound for the ring with chain locked about her knuckles.
But what she wasn’t prepared for, is the image of Abigail sprinting past her, through the ropes and leaping off the apron into a double axehandle. Cassidy didn’t see it coming either, looking up just as forearms come crashing into her skull.
Dollar: But Abi…Abi is taking the fight to Cassidy instead.
Greyson: Good for Maxine, because it didn’t look like she was in any type of shape for a fight tonight.
Dollar: Which is precisely why Abigail is doing this.
Before Cage can employ her chain as a weapon, Abi manages to stay her steel knuckled fist with a knife edge chop delivered across the chest, followed by an open hand slap to the cheek. Though Maxine’s brain is potentially concussed by the assault earlier in the night, she nevertheless recognizes the fact that roles have been reversed, now Abigail is protecting HER, instead of it being the other way around. And this fact doesn’t sit too well on the kneeling Red Widow.
Maxine: Stop it Abi, let her get in the ring….Let ME finish this.
Lindsey isn’t about to give into the demands of her bodyguard, as she concentrates all her efforts on keeping Cassidy and Maxine apart. Forearms continue to drill Cassidy under the jaw, backing her further and further from the ring. A ring occupied by a furious Maxine, who will not see her vendetta realized.
Maxine: Dammit Abi, why won’t you just let me handle this? I can take care of myse….
A pair of brass knuckles puts that to the test, and Maxine fails this exam, succumbing to the deadly blow delivered straight to the back of her head. Alana Starr stands over Abigail’s bodyguard, staring down at her with a big smirk settled over her face.
Dollar: WHOOOAAA!
Greyson: Maxine hit AGAIN!
Dollar: This time Abigail’s bodyguard being heinously assaulted by Alana Starr.
Sparkles: But she’s such a GOOD girl.
If she didn’t have a concussion before, Maxine sure as hell does now. She lies there on the canvas twitching after this blow, which won’t be the last one delivered. Alana retracts the brass knuckles and drags them down over the back of Maxine’s head and shoulders again.
Alana: This is for the greater good….The greater good….Abigail will learn what happens when she stands in my way….she won’t keep me from doing what’s GOOD.
Abigail may have protected Maxine from the wrath of Cage, but she can’t be everywhere all at once. She’s presently too preoccupied brawling with Cassidy to the backstage area, unable to spare Maxine from further brutality via the shots from the brass knuckles. Maxine TRIES to get up only to now have the boots of Alana put her back down. Starr pulls Moore up to her knees then cracks her in the temple with a scintillating thrust kick.
Alana: You won’t be there to protect Abigail from ME…
The kick should have taken Maxine down, but instead she just bobs on her knees from side to side, glossy eyed and drooling. This gives Alana the perfect opportunity to put the brass knuckles to further use. She pulls the weapon back and swings it one last time between Maxine’s eyes, dropping her to her back.
Alana: Bad things happen to bad people, Maxine.
Maxine won’t be able to remember anything from tonight…she can’t even keep her eyes open. She just lays there, fighting for consciousness in a losing effort. The brass knuckles are tossed down onto Maxine’s chest while Alana backs away, a remorseless grin on her face.
Dollar: Alana Starr no stranger to using the friends and family of her rivals to send a message to her foes. Tonight she’s done it again by attacking Abigail’s bodyguard.
Sparkles: I guess if this is how good people are supposed to act, I’m ever so glad to be bad.
Speaking of bad….that’s just what is in store for Jessica Wilde. We segue from one assault to the other before the crowd can even finish catching its breath. Even Alana is enticed to look away from her handiwork in order to observe a staggered Jessica losing her footing as she crashes through the curtain and falls to the stage. Katelyn Buehler, blood dried across her forehead is following right along behind.
Dollar: And we’re not through yet….it looks like Katelyn isn’t done with Jessica Wilde.
Sparkles: Jesus, have we not set the blood quota for tonight?
Dollar: Obviously Buehler doesn’t believe so….and she’s bled more than anyone tonight.
That blood has long since clotted across Katelyn’s face, but she looks to open a new gash on Wilde’s flesh. Fist after fist pummels Wilde’s face until a laceration is almost opened. The wrath ceases….at least in the form of fists….because Buehler has far more destructive ideas. She drags Wilde along towards her feet, in spite of the fact that Jessica can’t put any weight on her legs whatsoever.
Wilde: Katelyn…please….
Buehler is surprised to hear Jessica ‘beg,’ staying Katelyn’s hands for only a moment.
Wilde: Please think of the example…the example your setting for your children.
That’s it.
Buehler FORCES Jessica to her feet and then to the edge of the stage, ultimately throwing her over to the floor far blow. Wilde flips over completely and crashes across her back with bone breaking trauma across the cement.
Dollar: Wilde! Wilde thrown off the stage!
A shocked hush has come over the crowd as Buehler backs to the stage, looks towards the rafters and balls up her fists.
Buehler: AAAAAAHHH!!
A bloodied Buehler summoning all of her anger, channeling all of her aggression, and unleashing all the rage inside creates quite the startling visual.
Comeau: Hey Walker!
Silverwolf himself, number one contender for the NHB Championship, comes into view….more accurately it’s his back that we see. He’s currently walking…no….no….STORMING…yes, that’s the proper way to describe his gait…down the corridor. Only now does he stop to address Mark, who steps in from behind with a microphone held at the ready.
Walker: What do you want?
Mark is taken aback by this flash of anger.
Comeau: Just thought I’d gauge your reaction to what happened in the ring a few moments ago? Thought you’d be a bit overjoyed to see what happened to the Pestilence’s Jessica Wilde.
Walker: I’m a little busy at the moment, so I’m afraid I missed what happened to that freak.
Comeau: Busy doing what, if you don’t mind me prying?
Walker: More often than not I WOULD mind, but maybe you can actually help me out for once, Mark. I’m looking for….
Marie: Little ole’ me?
Silverwolf snaps around and finds his eyes burning a hole into Marie Jones.
Alana Starr’s hands are now free of brass knuckles, but that doesn’t make her any less dangerous. For a good person, she’s been capable of doing some truly reprehensible things, which Maxine Moore just learned the hard-way.
Porno Lad: Bravo….BRAVO!
The second Alana’s feet crossed the threshold into the backstage realm, Porno Lad was waiting, black suit and all to address her.
Porno Lad: That, my girl, wasn’t just GOOD, it was GREAT!
Alana: When did you turn into Tony the Tiger?
Porno Lad: I’m sorry, it just excites me to no end when I see good people, like myself, committing acts to better the world around them. And let’s face it, the world is certainly going to be a better place without that motorcycle driving dike….
Alana: The world is going to be even better when I remove Tabitha Silverstone AND Abigail Lindsey from it.
Porno Lad: Oh lord, comments like that just get me so feisty, and make me so happy that I’ve decided to create a safe haven for people like ourselves. You truly do make me proud to announce that you, Kordy, Polly and BMW, are all part of my selective clientele…my conglomerate of good people.
Alana: Truly, I’m honored to be part of it.
Porno Lad: Well, Alana, you know good people need to commit good deeds, which is exactly what I’m about to do. Talk to you later.
Where is Porno Lad headed? Towards the ring presumably.
TPKID VS. ACE MARSHALL
And of course Porno Lad would be headed for the squared circle just in time for this man’s match. To an intro track provided by DMX, TPKid materializes from the back, baseball bat in one hand and the palm of Miss Juicy in the other. He keeps the woman wearing a protective face mask as close to him as humanly possible as the two head for the squared circle. All eyes are on this pair and not on the EMTS currently aiding Jessica Wilde to the backstage area.
Dollar: Can’t believe that slime Porno Lad is actually starting to influence others…It wasn’t bad enough that he was getting into the minds of the Harem, but now he’s manipulating Alana Starr as well.
Greyson: It struck me as more of a two way street.
Dollar: And speaking of that son of a bitch, last week we saw a disgusting attack by Porno Lad on Miss Juicy….resulting in her wearing that face mask to the ring tonight.
LAST WEEK
Do we really need to relive that disgusting attack? Apparently old wounds need be freshened.
Mark Comeau is shown on the cusp of interviewing TPKid, only to have his segment hijacked by the Original Prankster. Porno Lad doesn’t just commandeer the interview, he totally steals TPKid’s thunder, not only by verbally sparring with him, but then subjecting the face of his girlfriend, Miss Juicy, to a fat lip and a few dislodged teeth.
Dollar: In one of the most disgusting, DEPRAVED acts I’ve been forced to watch, Porno Lad busted the mouth of TPKid’s girl, Miss Juicy with a straight right hand….Apparently knocking out two of her front teeth in the process.
Greyson: And it didn’t end there, did it?
Dollar: Oh how I wish it had, but your right, Greyson.
NEWAGE
The misogynistic acts of Porno Lad continued unto the next IWC telecast, where Miss Juicy, sporting her protective face mask, lauded support behind Kid. But those screams of support turn into screams of pain when Porno Lad blatantly assaults her at ringside, throwing the big woman into the barricade the subjecting her chest to a barrage of boots.
Dollar: There is truly no line Porno Lad will not cross….Attacking Miss Juicy on NewAge as well….and leaving no doubt rather it was intentional or not.
Sparkles: TPKid better keep that metric ton of hotness well protected.
TPKid does keep Miss Juicy as close as possible, warily watching her at ringside from the corner of his eye. It’s his ears that find themselves offended though, by the sound of Ace Marshall’s voice.
Ace Marshall: Good God almighty, how much worse can it possibly get?
The question is asked by one of the most loathed figures in professional wrestling, a man who even makes rodents squirm. With a IV bag in his hands, Ace starts down the ramp, forgoing any pyrotechnics, flashy lights, or even entrance music.
Ace: I haven’t seen anything this bad since that wart formed on the head of my penis.
Marshall’s words are drowned out by the disgruntled tones of the crowd.
Ace: Is THIS what the IWC tries to pass off as entertaining?
The IV points towards TPKId in the ring.
Ace: If I want to see beer guzzling rednecks I’ll turn on Duck Dynasty, and if I want to see big fat bitches with no acting talents I’ll turn on the View. This isn’t wresting, and it sure as hell isn’t entertaining. This place needs a high colonic, it needs a purging, and since TPKid here is the closest thing this federation has to a colon, he’ll be the first to get cleansed.
The IV bag and the tube used to shoot water straight into the rectum is held aloft for symbolic purposes….please God let it be for symbolic purposes.
An already furious TPKid has seen and definitely heard enough. The trauma of recent events weighs heavy on his mind as he storms towards the ropes and leans through to get his hands on Ace.
Suddenly Marshall squeezes the IV bag though, shooting the substance inside through the tubes and directly into TPKid’s eyes.
Dollar: Ace spewing his normal IWC hate, but who knows what he just spewed into TPKid’s eyes.
Greyson: I don’t think water would cause him this much discomfort.
Sparkles: Unless he’s not used to bathing frequently.
Whatever was in the IV has TPKid blinded…blinded to the nefarious ambitions of Marshall. He goes sliding into the ring behind Kid then waiting for him to turn around right into the running STO back-breaker, connecting with such force that the spinal column almost snaps.
Dollar: Now a back-breaker followed by the pin….Is this going to be another short confrontation and a big win for Ace?
Greyson: He kind of needs this win to legitimize his claims about the IWC’s interiority doesn’t he?
Dollar: Yes, as losing to Kordelia Price on NewAge did no favors to his cause.
Sparkles: Thanks for mentioning Kordy again, I hadn’t had a trouser twinge in like the last ten and a half seconds.
Ace wedges a forearm into the cheek of Kid, grinding his elbow against the flesh as he closes in on victory.
1
2
Only for TPKid to burst things wide open by throwing his arm off the canvas.
Dollar: Kid kicking out in time to keep from being used as an example by Ace Marshall.
Sparkles: Where are those afro chicks who did the intro music for Ace last week, that was the only reason I paid any interest in his debut.
Ace is rather flabbergasted that his plot back fired…though, if he were delivering a high colonic, wouldn’t a back fire be his motive? Anyway, the match will not be the blow out he…..wait….that sounded right in line with a high colonic as well.
Marshall will not let Kid’s surprising kick out, derail his plots, taking him around the neck, rolling him along to his feet then charging him across the ring and throwing him into the turnbuckle. Kid spins around, falling against the corner while Ace charges in and blows the oxygen out of his opponent’s lungs via a double leaping knee strike. The blow caves in Kid’s chest and perhaps shatters a rib or two while Ace drops gracefully into a backwards roll, ending up on his feet. He then rushes across them and lunges into a second double knee assault, driving his lower extremities into TPKid’s mid-section.
Dollar: Ace wearing TPKid out at this point with those knee strikes…..and thus far, there’s nothing a BLINDED TPKid can do to stop this.
Kid is still swiping his palm across his face, trying his best to clear away the substance that was shot into them. He isn’t given the opportunity to do that, because Ace comes rushing in and dives shoulder first into the mid-section, continuing to do damage to the ribcage.
He finally drags Kid away from the corner and puts to use all the work done to the ribs. He applies a standing abdominal stretch, and subjects Kid’s ribs to repeated elbows and forearms while he has him trapped in this predicament. He even throws in a few headbutts to the entirely exposed midsection of his opponent.
Dollar: Ace doing everything in his power to bust those ribs.
Sparkles: I’d like to bust Miss Juicy’s massive ass. I could get lost in that thing for a month.
In spite of the aggravation to his ribs, TPKid puts up a fight….one that leads to the hold being broken…but only because Ace does so of his own accord. He shoves TPKid forward, but maintains a grip on his wrist, dragging him back in with a short arm knee strike to the ribs.
Kid doubles over, grabbing at his mid-section while Ace rushes in at his side and delivers another knee strike to the mid-section, this one far stiffer than the last. The incredibly stiff blow sends Kid flipping over sideways, landing on his back. Then another knee is directed to that same wounded mid-section, Marshall rushing in, leaping high above the ring and crashing down into the gut.
Dollar: TPKid just can’t get back in this….which is a shame, considering he came into this match so incredibly fired up.
Greyson: But Ace managed to douse that with whatever was in that IV bag.
Speaking of the tube employed for high colonics….Ace is using it for purposes it was clearly not designed for. He picks it up off the apron, steps in behind Kid, sits him up and wraps the tube around his neck, strangling him.
Dollar: Come on Ace…
TPKid’s face has turned almost purple due to this blatant choking. Before any permanent damage can be done, official Ingelson intervenes, starting a five count. He gets dangerously close to disqualifying Ace only to have Marshall deny him that cheap thrill. The tube is used to drag TPKid around to his feet before ultimately snapmaring him down to the canvas.
Finally, the high colonic tube and bag, hopefully unused, are thrown aside so that Ace can use another weapon, his foot. The jeers are downright piercing as Ace backs to the center of the ring and stomps his foot several times to the canvas, all the while slapping his knee.
Ace: Sorry Trailer Park Trash….I’m not just gonna beat you, but I have to embarrass you in the process….Just gotta happen…..It’s the Ace way. So I’m gonna beat ya by way of your best friend’s finishing move, that should rub some salt in your cunt.
Obviously Ace is referring to the Epic Fail…..the scintillating spinning superkick that has proven so instrumental in many of Porno Lad’s legendary victories. He twists around into that very move as TPKid struggles to his feet, unwittingly rising right into the knock out shot. And the knock out is delivered, on Ace.
The kick only hits TPKid’s hair….the former Tag Team Champion dropping into a forward roll in order to avoid the shot. He then ends up on his feet, leaves them to lunge to the middle rope and then springs off. He twists in mid-air to take advantage of Marshall’s positioning only to be side stepped by Ace, avoiding whatever move TPKid was going for.
He then hooks his arm his leg, going for the Ace’s Wild.
He just starts to spin into the lightning spiral only to have Kid counter out of it, twisting around and pulling Ace along with him into a front chancery. He then heaves Marshall into the air for a brainbuster…and a brain is busted….TPKid’s. The top of his skull is subjected to a knee from Marshall, managing to counter the move and then float over his opposition, landing behind him and hooking his arms for the Tiger suplex.
Dollar: Ace just continuing to dominate TPKid here….who hasn’t recovered from the blinding spray from that IV bag.
Greyson: And he won’t recover from this either.
Kid is about to be spiked on the back of his neck and Ace is about to solidify his perception of the IWC through a dominating victory….albeit over a blinded opponent. Victory certainly would have been achieved if Kid hadn’t managed to drop to his seat, sliding out of Ace’s clutches then reaching up with his legs. He instinctively wraps them around Ace’s waist and begins to pull him down into the roll up.
But as Marshall is flipped over onto the back of his head and shoulders, he rolls forward out of the pin and unto his feet. TPKid rolls as well, unto his feet, but he still can’t get on a roll, cause the second he rushes at Ace, he’s cracked right across the cheek with the Epic Fail.
Dollar: Marshall just hit it..Porno Lad’s finishing maneuver….And God, what a horrible way for TPKid to be finished off here.
Sparkles: As if being strangled by a high colonic bag wasn’t bad enough?
The kick has sent Kid spiraling to the canvas with Ace making good on his vow to hand him a major loss in embarrassing fashion. He drops down over Kid’s chest to punctuate his dominating win.
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Marshall’s grin….which is wider than the smiley face mask he repeatedly wears while in public…is erased the moment that TPKid gets his shoulder up….
Sparkles: Alright Kid, enough silliness already, send the hot chicks in spandex back out here to wrestle.
Dollar: TPKid just not going down here tonight, he is desperate to rebound from that loss against Lasiewicz on NewAge, a loss caused by Porno Lad’s reprehensible attack on Miss Juicy.
Miss Juicy continues to wear the battle-scars of these repeated attacks from Porno Lad, staring through her face-mask with distraught eyes. She is in a sullen state at the visual of Marshall slapping the back of Kid’s head several times….
Ace: You bet on the wrong horse, chief. You picked the one with the bum leg. IWC, it’s a broken down mule about to be turned into Elmer’s Glue….
A roar emanates from TPKid, fueled by his passions and his growing anger regarding the multiple attacks in recent weeks on Miss Juicy. Not only does he roar, but he throws a big punch directly into Ace’s ribs, followed by another, and another and another. He then stands up and unleashes another growl before connecting with a devastating forearm across the bridge of Marshall’s nose, staggering him back. TPKid swings around into another forearm that does not connect with the nose shattering force of the previous blow.
Marshall ducks and takes off into the ropes behind Kid, springing off the middle cable and then twisting towards his opponent. But Kid manages to regain enough vision to side step Ace and catch him just as he comes down to his feet, dragging him over into the school boy.
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Ace rolls over backwards onto his knees then leaps to his feet and then into the double knees aimed at TPKid’s face.
Just as it looks like Marshall is about to put the ball back in his court, TPKid spirals out of position. Ace lands on his feet, TPKid grabbing him around the waist and snapping over backwards into the German….nyope….Ace reaches back with his legs, wrapping them around TPKid’s waist and then falling forward. He flips Kid over into a roll up….but TPKid just keeps on rolling, right onto his feet and right into the ropes. He ricochets off and comes back in at Ace, who sits up and withstands a devastating rendition of the Epic Fail.
Dollar: Ace’s attempt to get the psychological edge on TPKid, it just came back to bite him in his anus. The first real move Kid has hit in this match might be all it takes to win him this match.
The still partially blinded Kid drags himself over Ace, hooking his legs for the three and throwing his back over his adversary’s chest.
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As the hand comes down for the third slap of the canvas, Marshall kicks out….No wait…he doesn’t just kick out, he manages to counter into a crucifix roll up….but it’s not a pin he’s going for. Marshall allows Kid to drop to his knees before standing up at his side, heaving him up to his air and going for the Ace’s Wild.
Dollar: I have to admit, that was an amazing counter right into the Ace’s Wild.
Marshall spins into the lightning spiral to squeals from the crowd…squeals that get louder when TPKid twists out of the Ace’s Wild and into a front chancery. He heaves Marshall into the air then dumps him directly on top of his skull via the brainbuster.
Dollar: BRAINBUSTER!
Sparkles: If you keep shouting like that, my brain WILL burst…just like a hymen when ladies see me sporting a speedo.
Greyson: And he wears a speedo quite frequently, in fact, it’s all he walks around the house in on his days off.
Sparkles: In my book, every day is a day off.
The brainbuster has Marshall sitting up, appearing as if his mind has been scrambled like an egg on a frying pan. He eventually falls back and TPKid crawls in…going for another cover. He hooks the leg and the fans find themselves hooked on this action….which has just reached its peak only to see its denouement.
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And the pace just keeps on picking up, because Marshall kicks out, narrowly avoiding defeat for the second straight time.
Dollar: Kid almost had it…he ALMOST handed Marshall another loss here tonight and….oh good gravy….
Sparkles: Look who just decided to show up.
That someone is Porno Lad….clad in his dark suit and ever so smug grin.
Dollar: I thought Porno Lad had lost his nerve, but he’s actually about to step into the lion’s cage with a piece of raw meat strapped around his neck.
The edge of the ramp is reached by Porno Lad, who does not shy from the two men in the squared circle….two men he has not gotten along with in recent months. But instead of going after his former friend, who disrespected him on NewAge, or the man who humiliated him at Invictus, Porno Lad slowly begins to stalk Miss Juicy.
Dollar: Don’t do this Porno Lad, STAY AWAY FROM HER you callous son of a bitch.
Sparkles: He’s about to put a pounding on that ass, and I would pound it for weeks.
Goosebumps form on Miss Juicy’s skin and the hair on the back of her neck stands upright….nay leaps to attention….arousing her suspicions. She turns and spots Porno Lad slowly making his way towards her…..methodically descending on the woman he’s about to treat like some big breasted bimbo in a low budget psycho slasher flick.
Though she’s wearing a face mask, one can still see the tension in Miss Juicy’s features, the fear in her eyes, and the nervous quiver of her lip. She backs around the ring, palms raised aloft in a defensive posture towards Porno Lad, who will not be swayed by her pleas. Instead Porno Lad tilts his head in that classic serial killer posture made famous by Michael Myers after making a nerd kibob.
Dollar: Somebody get security out here. Somebody get out here and stop this!
Sparkles: I don’t think anyone is coming….except for me…..
Greyson: Dammit Sparkles.
Miss Juicy is backed into the corner of two converging barricades, realizing there is nowhere else to run, no avenue of escape. Porno Lad, chilling grin drawn across his face, closes the gap and at last prompts a response from Juicy. She lifts her fists into the air, ready to employ them to spare herself another assault.
Dollar: Poor Miss Juicy, this might be the most one sided fight we ever witness.
Greyson: At least she’s trying to defend herself.
Dollar: Not that it will matter for much against Porno Lad.
Instead of lashing out at Miss Juicy with his hands, Lad uses his pernicious tongue.
Porno Lad: All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth, my two front teeth, my two front teeth….
The sing-song tone horrifies rather than charms Miss Juicy, being reminded of the teeth Porno Lad knocked out of her mouth.
Now Lad’s hands DO move towards Juicy, grabbing a bang of her hair and twirling it around his finger.
Porno Lad: Ever heard the term, more cushion for the pushin?
The only thing pushed around is Porno Lad, thrown into the barricade by TPKid’s leaping splash.
Dollar: Kid saving Miss Juicy!
Greyson: And Porno Lad is gonna pay a high price for even considering putting his hands on TPKid’s extra large squeeze.
Punch after punch after punch is delivered by TPKid to the face of Porno Lad, connecting from every single angle. He seems to deliver a hundred shots in the span of less than a second. Eventually Kid takes a stunned Porno Lad by the back of the head, charges him at the ring and rolls him in under the ropes.
Dollar: And now TPKid is taking this war into the ring, where he might finally end it with Porno Lad…God almighty I hope he does.
TPKid grabs at anything he can to keep Porno Lad from scattering out of the ring, be it his coat, which is quickly shed, or his tie, which Lad unfastens, or his hair….Yes…TPKid actually has hold of Porno Lad’s hair….the misogynist’s single most valued feature. Just as Kid yanks on the hair to drag Lad into a devastating beating, Kid’s attempt at revenge is ended by a leaping knee strike by Marshall.
The knee cracks TPKid directly in the face and sends him crashing to the canvas. Though he doesn’t go down alone, having a hand full of Porno Lad’s hair sticking out from between his fingers.
Dollar: Ace just hit it, he just hit that diving knee strike.
Sparkles: Taylor Chase might sue.
Dollar: Porno Lad set Kid up again for disaster.
Ace rests on the very knee that just blasted TPKid between the eyes….looking down at his victim and chuckling in the process.
Ace: Another pathetic waste of my time.
Marshall shakes his head, mildly disgruntled that it took him this long to put TPKid away. He then nonchalantly falls into the cover, back wedged to TPKid’s chest.
One person who isn’t nonchalant, is Porno Lad, who stands outside of the ring palming the top of his head and realizing that a chunk of his hair has been ripped out.
He’s so shocked and so angered, he doesn’t even realize the pin is being made in the center of the ring.
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Ace: Another one bites the dust….
Apparently the more apropos phrase would be ‘once bitten twice shy.’ Kid doesn’t fall for the same trick twice, refusing to let Porno Lad cost him a second straight match. He hooks Ace’s arms and drags the stunned Marshall over into the crucifix….but it wasn’t a pin he was setting up for. Instead Kid releases Marshall, letting him drop to his knees so that Kid can come rushing in and catch him with a modified Trailer Park Dump.
The running Canadian Destroyer flips Ace completely over and drives his head into the canvas with skull shattering repercussions.
Dollar: Trailer Park Dump! Trailer Park Dump completely out of nowhere.
The driver opens the door for TPKid’s pinfall. He hooks the leg but deliberately keeps his eyes on Porno Lad the whole time.
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The Manhattan Center is rejoicing over Kid’s victory….who overcame multiple obstacles, including yet another distraction from Porno Lad to finally secure a win.
Dollar: And TPKid has put away Ace Marshall here tonight, maybe that will finally shut him up. Now if he can only do the same to Porno Lad.
Speaking of which, Porno Lad is presently rushing down the ramp to get his hands on the man who just took a chunk of his hair.
Porno Lad: You MOTHER FUCKER! You son of a bitch!!
Just before Lad can get to the ring three individuals latch unto him, Kordy, BMW and Polly snatching hold of his limbs and keeping them at bay. For Lad’s greater good, his Harem drag him away from the ring where TPKid is verbally antagonizing him….And Miss Juicy is adding physical insult. She grabs Porno Lad’s jacket off the canvas, sticks it between her legs and begins to use it as butt floss.
Dollar: Hahahaha….Miss Juicy and TPKid relishing in this moment.
It takes all of the Harem’s strength to compel Porno Lad away from the ring, but they are all together powerless to stop him from hearing the words pumping through the PA system.
TPKid: Hey Ethan….you still mad bro?
Mad…he’s homicidal.
TPKid: Then why don’t you stop pretending those three bitches can actually hold you back, then get in this ring and let me beat you….AGAIN!
As if watching Miss Juicy butt floss with his thousand dollar jacket wasn’t bad enough, now Porno Lad has to relive the trauma of his loss to TPKid at Invictus.
TPKid: I have no problem beating your ass all over the ring for a second time….So come on Porno-Puss, get in here and get the same treatment I dished out at Invictus.
Porno Lad: You fucker! You FUCKER! This is no way to treat a good person!
TPKid: Oh no, I’m going to treat you to far worse….You don’t have to worry about humiliation, Porno Lad, you have to worry about your life. Because I’m challenging you to one more match Ethan, and if you can manage to pry yourself away from those puny skanks under your employ, why don’t you get in the ring with me at Extreme Fury?
Porno Lad thinks about it for only a second.
Porno Lad: I’m gonna kill you for stealing my Invictus moment…you hear me!?! You’re on…
TPKid: Good, because although you might TRY to kill me at Extreme Fury, I can guarantee that I will SCALP your ass!
The hair in Kid’s hand…hair belonging to Porno Lad…is thrown to the canvas to emphasize his statement.
Porno Lad watches this with fuming eyes, and comments on it with chilling words.
Porno Lad: You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, Nate, no idea.
Two studio chairs are set in Frankie Paradise’s office, but only one of them is occupied. Axl Evermore, yawning and stretching, watches as Frankie Paradise paces in front of him playing on his tablet. The Riot theme song blaring in the background, enhancing the hype.
Dollar: As advertised earlier tonight, we were promised a sit-down interview with Frankie Paradise to be conducted by Axl Evermore…
Greyson: Hopefully this interview goes more smoothly than the one he had with Mr. Cruze last week.
Dollar: At long last we’re going to get answers regarding the evolution of Frankie Paradise.
Sparkles: If you touch that dial I’ll come to your home and fuck you right in the ear.
Marie Jones couldn’t look anymore disinterested if she were listening to Ben Stein lecturing about economics.
Aerik: An explanation….that’s ALL I’m asking for, Marie. You owe me that much.
The request has Jones’ shoulders slouching, making it harder for her to prop her back against the wall she’s leaning against.
Marie: Of course Aerik….you’ve always been such a trusted friend of the family….
Aerik: CAN IT MARIE.
The anger in Silverwolf’s voice brings a smile to Marie’s face.
Aerik: Just tell me why you’ve been hanging out with my wife. What the two of you are up to.
Marie: My goodness Aerik, paranoid are we? And I don’t know if I should speak on behalf of your wife.
Aerik: Maaarrrieee….
Marie: Come off it, Old Wolf, how can you expect me to know what’s going on in your wife’s head?
Aerik: And how can YOU expect me to be a loyal teammate, when your using my strained relationship with Alyx against me?
Finally Marie pushes away from the wall, swinging her hands through the air.
Marie: Whoa…whoa…whoa…hold the presses….Who said anything about using Alyksandra against you? If anything, my relationship with your wife benefits you.
Aerik: How in the hell do you figure that?
Marie: What happened to Alyx in that Tables Are Legal match at Invictus?
Aerik: Don’t talk to me about tha…
Marie: I know-I know, it’s still a sore spot for you, but I only bring it up to show that you’re not quite as capable of protecting Alyx as you used to be. Your age is starting to catch up with you…you’re not as quick on the draw anymore. It’s too taxing on you to fight for titles and to settle grudges, when you’ve got to constantly keep an eye on Alyx. And if she’s going to be hanging around in the IWC for a while, then why not make sure she has a proper guardian? A tough, skilled and YOUNG guardian? I’m watching her back, for YOU. So you can focus on becoming the NHB Champion.
Aerik: Is that so?
Given his wry response, it’s obvious Walker isn’t buying this.
Marie: Plus it gives me an opportunity to talk some sense into your beloved, to help her warm up to your return to the ring and see….
Aerik: Marie….stop…
Marie: What do you mean? I was just telling you how hard I’ve been working to….
Aerik: Don’t bullshit a bullshitter. I’ve been around enough disreputable characters to know when I’m being lied to.
Marie: Now Aerik, you might want to take that base out of your voice.
Her hand falls onto the burly arms of Walker presently crossed over his chest.
Marie: After-all, you don’t want to upset the person watching your wife’s back.
The thinly veiled threat causes Walker to uncross his arms and clinch his fists.
Aerik: What exactly do you mean by that?
Marie: Take it how you want to take it, Aerik. I’m just saying you don’t want me to be distracted by your threatening attitude when I’m trying to concentrate on keeping Alyx safe.
Aerik: Listen here Little Girl, you’ll never see any threatening attitude out of me, because I don’t threaten….I DO. And if you don’t start being honest with me…..
Marie: Oh gee, look at the time…
She checks the imaginary watch around her wrist.
Marie: I’ve got to go…Alyx is waiting on me, and it’s not a good idea to keep her unattended for long. Who knows what mischief she’ll get herself into without me being there to protect her. Tootles.
Jones is off and skipping down the corridor.
Walker: MARIE! MARIE!!
There is no response to Walker’s demand for attention….But Walker will not be ignored, he’ll get answers out of Marie one way or another…and that one way being the steel chair he scoops into his palm.
Walker: Get back here Mar….
Jessica: Aerik-Aerik-Aerik….
Jessica Lasiewicz, who had been in hot pursuit of Marie all night long, steps around Walker, cutting him off before he could put the chair to brutal purposes. Hands wedge to his chest, Jessica desperately holding back an infuriated giant.
Walker: Get out of my way.
Jessica: Aerik, please…
He tries to step around her only to have every avenue blocked by a human barricade.
Jessica: You don’t want to do this.
Walker: How do you know that?
Jessica: Because I know how much you care about our family, how much you care about Marie and her mother.
The chair begins to lower and Walker’s flushed cheeks regain some of their color.
Walker: Is that so? Well it seems your family is giving me nothing but grief.
Jessica: Let me try and fix it….Let me try to talk to Marie. Give me the opportunity to straighten this all out.
Walker: Hmmmm…I’ll give you one chance, but only because it’s YOU.
Jessica is relieved but at the same time placed under a significant amount of pressure.
Walker: I’ll give you until NewAge…and if you don’t get answers from Marie by then….I’LL get to the bottom of this…and you won’t like my methods.
Cheesy doesn’t even begin to describe the smile on Mark Comeau’s face as he stands in front of the barricade that separates him from the man in the front row, that man being Chris Davids.
Mark: Ready for another take?
Chris: Guess so.
Mark: Alright then, let’s try this again shall we?
Chris: Sure.
Comeau’s forced smirk turns back towards the camera.
Mark: Chris ‘continuing’ to enjoy the spectacle of the IWC. Dialed your agent yet? Sure you’re contract hasn’t been finalized….
Chris: I won’t lie, after sitting out here tonight, I must admit that this place is a little ‘out there,’ but that suits me just fine. I’ve never been a man who subscribed to social norms. For God sakes, I’ve spent a huge chunk of my life being known as a minion.
Mark: Your funeral then. So I guess the next obligatory question would be, after sitting ringside and watching the numerous talents in this federation, who tops your list of potential opponents?
The tunes provided by Rev Theory blare through the speakers, and instantly silence Davids and Comeau. Chris’ jaded eyes shift towards the entry way just in time to absorb the view of Lucas Knight.
Dollar: Looks like we haven’t seen enough of Lucas Knight.
Sparkles: I have, unless he’s being accompanied by Alana Starr.
If you blinked your eyes you would have missed Lucas hurrying down the ramp and leaping into the ring, where he presently stands microphone in hand, and list of grievances ready to be aired.
Lucas: Miscommunications, boy how they can be such a bitch at times….
The crowd whole heartedly agrees with that statement.
Lucas: That’s what we saw a few moments ago, yet ANOTHER miscue…one between Tay and I…a miscommunication that guys like Silas Mason and Ba’al will spin way out of proportions. Notice that I said WOULD….because I’m not about to give them the opportunity to manipulate what happened out here earlier….
The fourth wall is shattered as Knight blatantly addresses the camera.
Lucas: Tay, let’s not be led around by the short and curlies…You and I are not fools, so let’s not be played as such. Come on out here and let’s resolve this before we step into that ring and team together ton….
Ba’al: You seek resolution?
Ba’al steps through the curtains with Jaina following along behind, shoulder burdened by the NHB Championship. The weight of the gold is a bit more straining after the repeated chair shots she suffered earlier tonight. Nevertheless, in spite of their injuries, the two start down the ramp and show no hesitation about entering the ring with Knight.
Dollar: Absolutely no good can come of this.
Sparkles: You don’t know that, Jaina might have a wardrobe malfunction.
The Frost siblings stand opposed to the legendary Knight.
Ba’al: I am offering just that, Mr. Knight, RESOLUTION. For when the execution is enacted this evening, all petty rivalries, all past issues will be wiped from the slate. The grip you have over these grudges you cling to will be broken. All of these problems with Taylor Chase, all of these World Title ambitions, they will be forgotten.
Knight: Ummm, alright then. I’m just going to step over to MY corner and talk to Tay…you, you can go to YOUR corner and continue babbling like some loon.
Ba’al: Are you not listening, Lucas? You have no cause to resolve any problems between yourself and our World Champion, for the issues between the two of you will be of no consequence after tonight’s execution.
Knight: Yeah, good luck with that.
Knight begins to turn his back on Ba’al to redirect his comments towards the camera and Taylor Chase in particular.
Ba’al: Entschuldigen Sie!
The collar of Lucas’ shirt is grabbed and employed to spin him about so that he’s eye to eye with the man who demands his attention.
Ba’al: It would be unwise to overlook the severity of tonight’s execution. For the Black Crusade and their misguided sympathizers will not be the only ones affected….
Knight: Kierian, it would be unwise for you to ever put your hands on me again.
The collar of Knight’s t-shirt is ripped from the clutches of the NHB Champion.
Ba’al: You think I fear you, Lucas? Your bark is without bite. The Frost family has made a habit of decimating you, physically, mentally and spiritually. Should we collide at Extreme Fury, I would no doubt humble the ‘LEGEND’ once again.
Knight: Humble me? I thought I was already pretty humble. It’s not like I demand extravagant entrances, or insist upon title matches…
A wink and a nod.
Ba’al: You are deserving of neither. You should not be ushered to the ring by aged English thespians. You should not have a bevy of pom-pom waving whores trumpeting your arrival. You are only deserving the judgment of the Sinistry….
Knight: Yeah-yeah. Judgment this….judgment that…enough you pasty faced square. I’ve heard this all before, only it was coming from the more talented of the Frost siblings.
The comment amuses Ba’al.
Knight: Hearing it again, from a man who is about as exciting as watching Bob Ross paint a scenic landscape, is boring me to tears. I came back to invigorate the World Championship with credibility and ENTERTAINMENT. You…you’re not credible…and you’re not entertaining….and most important of all, you are not going to stand between me and the title.
Ba’al: So you admit it then, you view only me as a threat to the fulfillment of your title ambitions? You believe Taylor Chase to be of no consequence then?
Knight: Hmmmm, nice Frost…what a wonderful attempt to twist my words.
Ba’al: I need twist nothing, for your exact statements are damming enough. We at last hear it, it is unmistakable. You are not threatened by Taylor Chase, you overlook our World Champion….It is just as young Mika Kozlov speculated….You have no respect for Taylor.
Knight: No….I respect Tay just fine, I’d have to be stupid not to. But you on the other hand are a different story, Frost….I respect you about as much as I respect dog poop on the bottom of my boot.
Ba’al: Lucas, do not deflect. You can no longer hide your true feelings about Taylor.
Knight: Hide? I’m not exactly bashful when it comes to my true feelings. In fact, I can be pretty bold, I can be pretty in your face….and furthermore…
Knight’s next message is delivered by a closed right hand drilling Ba’al precisely in the lips.
Dollar: No more words….Knight threw talking to this psychopath.
Greyson: A fist to the mouth will pretty much shut up anyone.
Sparkles: Not my mouth, I can fit an entire fist in it and still talk.
Dollar: I’m not sure that’s something you want to brag about Sparkles.
The deliberate right hand has Ba’al rolling across the canvas holding his grinning lips. Knight would be smiling, if it weren’t for Jaina jumping unto his back, and digging her claws into whatever orificie she can get her fingers into, be it eyes, mouth or nostrils. Knight spins in circles, trying to shake off the body of Frost.
Dollar: Jaina trying to come to the aid of her brother…..Again.
The downright feral Jaina continues to scrape and claw at Lucas’ face before he finally reaches up, takes her around the back of the head and snaps her over to her seat. Jaina crashes onto her posterior while Knight returns his focus to Ba’al a moment too late. An unsuspecting Knight is mowed down by a devastating lariat from the Prince of Sin, putting Lucas to his back.
Dollar: Ba’al using the distraction by Jain…..HERE COMES TAYLOR!
Sparkles: Someone hand me a bib, I’m about to start drooling.
To thunderous applause, Taylor Chase comes barreling towards the ring, now dressed in her ring gear. Hopefully being out of civilian apparel will make Tay far less encumbered as she takes the fight to Ba’al.
The NHB Champion charges at Tay, throwing another lariat that the World Champion ducks. The moment Ba’al spins around, Chase leaves her feet, going for the Taylor Made.
Unfortunately, Ba’al has this move scouted, wedging hands to Chase’s stomach and shoving her off in mid-sequence. Taylor goes spiraling through the air, landing on her feet just as Ba’al rushes in from behind and catches her with a damaging back stabber. Taylor’s spine bounces off the elevated knees of the number one contender, sending her spiraling into a heap across the canvas.
Dollar: Damn that Ba’al…
Sparkles: Must he be so superhuman?
After inflicting trauma on Chase, Ba’al goes back to his original target, turning just in time to be nailed with a step up enzugari to the back of his skull. Lucas drops the NHB Champion to his knees and looks to inflict further damage on his budding nemesis before averting focus instead to Kelcey Wallace
Dollar: Ooooh no, Kelcey Wallace is at it again.
Sparkles: And Silas is with her every step of the way.
Mason whispers into Kelcey’s ear the entire way to the ring, feeding her advice right up until they reach the apron where Wallace parks her chair. Before it can be entered into the squared circle, a foot compresses the steel, Knight stomping it and refusing to let Kelcey put the weapon to use.
Dollar: Knight not about to let Wallace set him up a second time.
Knight uses his foot to swipe the chair out of Kelcey’s hands, kicking it back to the center of the ring. He puts it out of Kelcey’s reach, but straight into the clutches of….Scott Cannon?
Yes, another member of Silas World, has snatched up the weapon and is presently swinging it straight into Lucas’ spine.
Dollar: NYAH…What…who….why?
Greyson: I got nothing.
Dollar: That’s….that’s Scott….Scott Cannon, another of Silas Mason’s clients!
Greyson: And he just smashed Lucas right in the kidneys with that chair.
The fans are just as confused as the commentators, watching as Scott turns and spots Taylor standing up with the use of the ropes. He quickly throws the chair straight at her, Chase turning in time to catch the weapon before it could hit her. But Scott never had intention of striking Tay with the weapon, he wanted her to catch it. WHY? For implication purposes of course. Knight turns around just as Scott has fled the ring and just as Taylor steps to the center of it with a steel chair in her hands.
Dollar: Ohhhh deja-vu.
Knight recovers enough to see the chair in Taylor’s hands and feel the pain of a chair shot coursing through his spine. Two and two are put together, leading ultimately to one conclusion, Taylor must have been the one who bashed Knight with the steel while his back was turned.
Greyson: Wait. Does Lucas think?
Sparkles: That Taylor looks super-hot in those short shorts?
Greyson: No, that Taylor hit him with the chair.
Sparkles: I think that’s exactly what he believes.
Silas tries his best to restrain his smirk…but just can’t help himself, not when his best laid plans are all coming together. The chair in Chase’s hands is lowered once she sees the scornful glare of Knight directed towards her ad the weapon in her clutches. Just then Ba’al rushes in from behind Tay, leaves his feet and goes for the Totalis.
Somehow Taylor is able to shrug him off though, sending Ba’al crashing to the canvas, rolling over backwards unto his feet then being knocked off of them via a dropkick. Chase knocks the NHB Champion through the ropes and to the outside of the ring.
Dollar: And now Chase dispenses Ba’al from the ring but the damage has already been done….his words and the actions of Silas World putting a further wedge between Taylor and Lucas before their tag team match later tonight.
The tension between Chase and Knight takes the form of a very tense and drawn out stare. A stare that Silas delights in, Kelcey can’t bring herself to observe, and Scott has no reaction towards whatsoever.
Alana Starr is walking with such a feel good vibe that her waltz should be set to the tune of ‘Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head.’ And presently her head is filled with images of Maxine Moore’s swelling face as she was pummeled by the brass knuckles.
Chase: So you see William, you shouldn’t be entertaining Tabitha Silverstone….it’s just downright cruel of you to keep stringing her along.
William: And who says I’m stringing her along?
Alana stops just outside of Chase Global’s private dressing quarters, observing the eclectic mix of talent just outside of it. Mason stands between Kyle Black and Adam Chase, both men pressuring Mason worse than a gym instructor trying to sign him to a six month membership, tote bag included.
William: Tabitha made some pretty interesting offers.
Chase: Erm….oh….well….uhhh….HEY ALANA!
Thank God Starr chose now to enter the fray, because Adam really needed a moment, and he didn’t have a Snickers to help him provide just that.
Alana: How are my boys doing tonight?
Kyle: We were just finalizing a deal with our main-man, William here.
Alana: Sweet….It’s about time we added another good person to the mix.
William: Um, excuse me, but I haven’t agreed to anything yet.
Chase looks like he just swallowed a canary…no….like he just swallowed the cat that swallowed the canary….
Chase: Oh yeah, I understand you need time…time it to think it over.
Kyle: Maybe instead of gabbing in his ear all night, William would like a visual aid of what Chase Global brings to the dance.
Chase: Absolutely….And we’ve arranged just that tonight.
William: Awww…you didn’t have to go to such expense on my account.
Chase: You’ll soon realize William that Chase Global spares no expense when it comes to not just our clients….but family.
Yes, Chase actually just pulled the ‘family’ angle from the deck, even if they are only tied through marriage.
William: I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Uncle Adam.
Chase: If you have a moment we would love for you sit to back with us and watch the following match, it’s going to be YOUR brother in law versus another man you know all too well, Danny Darko.
William: Hmmm, an unfortunate affiliation if there ever was one.
Chase: Which is why Gavin is going to that ring tonight to impose Chase Global’s…..nooo….YOUR will upon Darko.
William: Isn’t that nice of him?
Alana: Of course, Gavin always thinks about the ‘greater good.’
William: You know what, I would LOVE to watch this match…
Alana: Awesome. Should almost be as good as what I did to Maxine out there a few moments ago.
She just can’t STOP gloating about it to anyone who will listen, even if her timing is highly inappropriate.
Chase: This is truly superb, William. We’ve already got the dressing room all set up for you. Kyle, did you make sure to stock the min-fridge?
Kyle: You know it, I bought an entire case of Shashta Cola.
Chase: Then we should be set.
Everyone leaps towards the door, ready to binge on Shashta and watch Gavin decimate Darko…well…everyone BUT Mason.
William: Time out fellas.
Chase: Is there a problem?
William: While I appreciate Chase Global going to such extremes just to placate little old me. I think, in order to truly show my appreciation for your efforts, that I need a far closer view of this match you arranged.
Chase: Oh?
That lump is forming in his throat again.
William: So how about we all go to ringside so that I can get an up close and personal view of what Chase Global is offering?
Kyle: Sounds good.
Chase: Wait…wait…wait.
William: Is there a problem, Uncle Adam?
It looks like Chase is choking on the dog that swallowed the cat, that swallowed the canary.
Chase: Ummm…uhhh…
William: I didn’t think there would be.
A slap…a forceful one at that, is delivered to the back of the Super-Agent, which dislodges the lump in Chase’s face but does nothing to stop his stammering.
Alana: You boys enjoy yourselves out there.
William: No problem there….I think seeing Care-Bear battle my brother from another mother, will be absolutely delightful.
Kyle and William head down the corridor but Adam is still frozen…caught between a rock and a hard place considering he promised to stay away from the ring during Gavin’s match. One of many promises he’s made to Gavin that he’ll now be forced to break.
Obviously Frankie Paradise has had a lot on his mind of the past few weeks, and his time has been so taxed he probably hasn’t even had the chance to catch up on episodes of HBO’s Cathouse. Yet he takes a precious few moments to address the questions of Axl Evermore, and the IWC fandom who watch this sit-down interview conducted from the confines of Paradise’s office. Though it seems they’ve been caught a few seconds shy of being camera ready.
Frankie: I would so wait for Arya…
Evermore: But isn’t she only like twelve years old?
Frankie: Yeah, the most badass twelve year old on the planet….fo’sho….
The Game of Thrones conversation ends when a cough from the camera-man alerts both Paradise and Evermore that their being filmed.
Evermore: Oh…ummm…hello, I’m sitting here with….
Frankie: Everyone already knows who I am, Axl….and if they don’t, they’re higher than Comeau after he’s mixed meds.
Evermore: I thought his behavior last week was the result of a sinus infection.
Frankie: Oh please, I’ve been kicked out of enough raves to know when someone is stoned out of their friggin mind.
Evermore: Enough about Comeau, Let’s focus on you.
Frankie: Won’t argue with that.
Evermore: Frankie….a lot of people have been asking ‘WTF?’ Seriously, are you bipolar or something? What’s with your latest personality shift?
Frankie: Bwha?
Evermore: I think people are a tad bit confused by your sudden affinity for Orlando Cruze.
Frankie: Dude, I hate Orlando as much as I hate Sarah Jessica’s Parker’s face. There’s no bromance forming between the two of us, and there never will be. We’re not friends, we’re coworkers, and that’s all we’ll ever be. He doesn’t like nor trust me, and the feeling is a two way street.
Evermore: Then why did you come to his assistance at Invictus by TRYING to stop the Blacklist from running him down?
Frankie: Because bro, Frankie thinks it was the right thing to do, and the right time to show the Blacklist that I’m not their friggin puppet. They’ve treated me like a prison shower bitch for too long, it was time to put my soap on a rope and put them in their place….
Evermore: That didn’t work out too well though did it?
Frankie: No….guess not everything can come up smelling like roses for Frankie and his Frank-O-Philes. But the point is, I took a stand….I finally stood up to the Blacklist….and if Orlando and I can become a united front, if we can work together, if we can set aside our personal issues, we can take out our bigger threat….our mutual enemy….Then we can get back to our endless struggle for Taylor Chase’s affections.
Evermore: You’ve certainly shown some growth, Frankie.
Frankie: Thank you Extenz.
Evermore: I was talking about character growth.
Frankie: Oh….
Evermore But don’t you fear reprisals from the Blacklist?
Frankie: Nah…I’m done with all that. I’m tired of feeling like I’m on borrowed time. I ain’t running from no Blacklist. If they want to come after me, let ‘em bring it….Cause when they do, they’ll find out that I’M the man they should FEAR….
Amanda: FRANKIE!
Frankie: YAAAAH!
Paradise lunges out of his studio chair, and right into a crane kick posture. His planted foot prepares to KO Amanda Blayze, who completely ignores the defensive stance of Paradise in order to slip into his now unoccupied chair.
Amanda: You and I need to talk.
Frankie: Oh well….you know the Frankie has always got time for the ladies.
Amanda: There’s only one lady I want to discuss right now, Brittany Lohan.
Frankie: Uh-huh?
Amanda: You’ve been handling the talent contracts, right?
Frankie: I’m your huckleberry.
Amanda: Good, then you’re just the huckleberry I need to speak to…
And speak to alone apparently.
Amanda’s eyes turn towards Axl, giving him a chilling stare.
Evermore: Ugh, I’m going, I’m going.
Spencer Klein continues to preside over the many in ring events this evening, loitering in the rafters with a melancholic expression on his face.
Dollar: Spencer Klein’s presence ever so foreboding.
Sparkles: Would the bitch just do something already? That extends beyond having his fifty seven Blacklist supporters attack me when my guard is down?
Greyson: I shudder to think of what else he’s going to do.
Dollar: Yes, as if burning down Taylor’s and Orlando’s dream home wasn’t bad enough.
GAVIN TAYLOR VS. DANNY DARKO
’Whoa is Me’ by Down with Webster prods quite the reaction from the crowd….none of them all too flattering. Though Gavin isn’t too preoccupied with endearing himself to the fans, having only one mission this evening, one he’s not entirely too on board with. The usual pomp and circumstance is devoid from Gavin’s entrance, no lavish vehicle driving him to the ring. Instead his feet carry him down the ramp, up the steps and into the ring where he will fight for what’s right…right for Chase Global’s bottom-line.
Greyson: Hmmm, Gavin doesn’t look his normal pompous self.
Dollar: No…no he doesn’t. And it’s so strange to see him out here without Adam Chase planted at ringside. But as we saw earlier tonight, Gavin, in no uncertain terms, told Adam and Kyle Black to stay away from the ring when he goes one on one with Danny Darko.
Greyson: Whhhhy?
Dollar: Gavin is still pretty sore over what happened on NewAge.
NEWAGE
And what happened on NewAge? Well if you’d stop being so damned impatient, we’ll show you.
A video highlights the title forfeiture as demanded by Frankie Paradise as it plays out in the ring on NewAge. The Evolution Championship stolen by Gavin Taylor, is returned to Andre Jordan, but not by the thief. Instead it’s returned by the thief’s collaborator, Kyle Black. Who even goes as far as to wrap the belt back around Jordan’s waist.
Dollar: As demanded by Frankie Paradise, the Evolution Championship was returned to Andre Jordan, BUT….
Sparkles: Mr. Roids himself, Kyle stole the strap from Gavin and returned it on his partner’s behalf.
Dollar: Can you do me a favor and call the belt a sparkly?
Sparkles: How about no, you freak.
Pacing, pacing, pacing, it’s all Gavin can do as he waits for his opponent.
Dollar: Gavin has been desperate for title gold since he made his debut in the IWC, and thus far, he’s seen that goal unrealized.
Greyson: It looks like it’s pushed him to his absolute breaking point.
Sparkles: He’s about to lose his shit.
Dollar: Which probably doesn’t bode too well for Danny Darko.
Pacing isn’t doing it for him, he needs something more to help blow off steam…and Danny is gonna help him in that department. Fire is used to hype the arrival of Darko, as well as the tracks provided by the Foo Fighters. Darko makes his way through the flames, to the tunes of ‘All My Life,” and quite the eclectic response from the crowd.
Sparkles: There’s the Care-Bear.
Greyson: Careful now, Sparkles, Mr. Darko doesn’t like to be called that.
Dollar: William Mason definitely took some stabs at him earlier tonight…really putting down his FORMER friend. Maybe Danny will show him in this match that William is so incredibly wrong…wrong…WRONG. That Danny is the same Devious individual he’s been in the past, and that he is NOT holding Mason back.
And there’s nothing to hold back Danny either, sliding into the ring as he and Gavin both rush at one another, driven mad by their own nagging aggravations.
Dollar: Gavin and Darko going right at it.
Sparkles: End this quick so we can get to the main event and see Taylor Chase again.
Right hands are thrown between both faces…..Gavin nailing right hands…Darko nailing right hands. This lethal barrage continues until Gavin ducks a big shot from Danny, who goes spinning around directly into a knife edge chop. A chop that Danny manages to side step just in time to avoid. He steps behind Gavin, wraps arms around his waist and sets for the German suplex. However, Taylor plants his foot, refusing to be taken over and performs a standing switch. He gets behind Danny, wedges hands to his spine and shoves him forward into the cables.
Darko bounces off the ropes and comes back in towards Gavin, who is already setting up for the Real Men Use Lariats. He charges in, throwing his bicep directly into the throat of Darko, or so that was his intention. Instead Danny baseball slides under the arm, leaps to his feet and then into the air, twisting around into the Darkolator.
Gavin spins around and spots the corkscrew roundhouse kick traveling towards his face, prompting him to drop to the canvas then roll to the outside of the ring, avoiding the blow.
After missing the kick, Danny lands on his feet, then proceeds to have a stare down with Taylor, the two men glaring at one another. They stare through the ropes that divide them, but it can only keep them separated for a matter of seconds.
Sparkles: Boy, these two sure are hostile, and if they had huge boobs it would only make this match all the more entertaining.
Dollar: Great, did you really have to put the image of Gavin Taylor with boobs in my head? GAAAH, I can’t get it out of there now.
The Real Men Use Lariats and the Darkolator failed to connect, so Danny is going to try a different method. He goes rushing across the ring and prepares to dive through the ropes but that dive is avoided by Taylor, who drops into a roll through the tarp and under the ring.
So Danny has to settle for landing on the apron instead, having nothing to show for his troubles. He quickly drops from that apron to the mats and reaches beneath the ring, searching for Gavin.
Greyson: This is no time for a disappearing act.
Sparkles: Quick, pull a bunny rabbit out of something next.
No bunnies are pulled from ANYTHING. Instead Darko tries to pull Gavin out from under the ring. Instead Taylor makes an exit himself, rushing around the ring, grabbing the tarp Darko is presently crouched under, and wrapping it around Danny’s head. He then begins to subject him to punch after punch after punch to the temple and the back of the skull.
Darko pulls the makeshift veil off his head and turns just as Taylor shoves him spine first into the apron.
Dollar: Gavin employing some psychological tactics and blending them quite well with that physicality.
The lower back of Darko bends violently around the apron while Gavin rushes in and cracks him under the jaw with a forearm. He then takes Danny by the back of the head, rushes him into a circle and throws him in under the ropes. An intense Taylor follows his opponent inside, rushing towards Darko and throwing both boots square into the temple and cheek. The front dropkick nails Danny with enough force to send him rolling across the canvas and spilling under the ropes.
Darko lands on the mats and Gavin prepares to drop to them in order to deliver further brutality. The second Taylor lands on the mats though, Darko rolls away from him, getting under the squared circle to avoid the wrath. The tarp has just fallen behind Danny’s feet before Gavin is lifting it right back up. He peers under but does not spot Darko….hidden amongst the shadows.
Dollar: Darko employing the same tactics as Gavin.
Which Taylor realizes, standing upright and turning in time to avoid Darko….but wait, there is no Darko….he doesn’t run around the squared circle, he runs through it. Gavin looks up just as Danny runs the length of the ring, and then dives through the ropes with a suicide plancha. His upper back connects with Darko’s chest, knocking him back against the barricade while Danny flips over into the crowd.
Dollar: Danny nailing all of that….God dammit, I still can’t stop picturing Gavin with tits.
Sparkles: That’s how I picture everyone.
Gavin suffered a horrendous crash, but Danny has a graceful landing. He comes down on his feet, steps through the fans, slapping their outstretched hands in the process. Darko puts enough distance between himself and the barricade to build some momentum behind a lunge. He charges through the fans, slapping his shoulders and cheering him on as he leaps over the barricade into a suicide diving headbutt on…thin air. Gavin drops down, rolling into the barricade that Darko is flying over.
Danny ducks his head, drops to the mats and rolls along to his feet. He then lunges out of the roll to the apron, while Gavin lunges to his feet and away from the barricade. That’s when Darko flips back, twisting in mid-air into a moonsault before spiraling out of that into a senton. His back crashes into Taylor, knocking him back into the barricade…..with Darko flipping over into the crowd.
Dollar: Another dive from Darko!
Sparkles: This guy’s got the flexibility of a porn star. You know I worked as a fluffer in the porn industry for a while.
Dollar: I neither knew that, nor did I want to know that.
Once more Darko lands amongst the screaming fans, before the Devious One turns, determined to complete the move he was looking for mere moments earlier. He goes dashing across the concrete before leaving his feet in order to dive, dive right over the barricade and connect, connect right with Gavin’s boots. A dropkick nails the airborne Danny in the face, knocking him out of the air and to the ringside mats.
Dollar: But that dive did NOT connect.
Sparkles: Jeez…..we never did anything like THAT in the porn industry….That appeals to an entirely different demographic.
Darko’s face is mashed by the kick and the momentum is stripped away. In desperation he tries to stand up, holding onto the barricade, which may prove to be a detriment. Gavin steps in from behind, takes the back of his head and uses it to drive his face into the steel.
Danny does not lose his footing, at least not until he reaches the ring. He rolls in under the ropes, breaking the official’s count and trying to get to his feet. Unfortunately Darko only to gets to his knees before he’s shut down with a big lariat to the back of his skull. The blow knocks Danny right back down to the canvas, and his brain into another dimension.
Gavin continues to keep momentum in his favor. He stands up, steps to Darko’s side and drops with his fist directly into the back of Danny’s skull. He then rushes to his feet, ricochets off the cables and delivers a dropping bionic elbow across the cranium.
All the damage to the head leads to a rear chin lock. Gavin pulls him up and into the submission. Gavin pulls him down and further sinks in the submission. Darko tries to pull himself up to his seat and out of the submission. Darko remains down and in the submission.
The hold is applied with neck breaking, brain damaging exertion, but Danny is not submitting. He’s hanging tough….he’s fighting through insurmountable odds….No force on earth can compel him to submit, not after William’s statements earlier tonight. So he begins to force himself upwards, enticing Gavin to exert even more strain on the neck…But before Gavin can behave like a bottle opener, with Danny’s head being the cap….But nothing is going to come foaming out of Darko, who rises to his feet and prepares to escape the submission only to be thwarted by an over the ribs neck-breaker.
Gavin falls away from Danny, delivering this modified neck-breaker and leaving his opposition in a mindless daze.
A daze?
That’s not good enough. He steps in, traps the neck and heaves Darko from his seated base on the canvas into the air and into a modified cobra clutch slam.
Sparkles: Good things wrestlers don’t have many brain-cells, otherwise those blows to Darko’s head might have long term effects.
Dollar: You’re hardly one to lecture others about the lack of brain-cells….Were you even made with a brain?
Sparkles: Even with a head full of cotton stuffing, I still have more intelligence than this entire roster.
After slamming from the canvas, Darko pops up to his seat and gets trapped in a reverse DDT position. He pulls Danny up to his feet and then swings to his side, delivering a twisting cutter. Darko’s face slams off of the canvas and Gavin crawls into the cover, knowing that he’s done all it takes to secure a win.
1
2
Danny’s shoulder JUST launches from the canvas in time to deny Gavin what he yearns for…..a check in his win column…
Taylor rises to his feet and takes hold of Darko’s hair, using it to drag him up and into the sleeper. Yep, it’s locked in, Danny’s in dire straits, you know how it goes from here.
Dollar: Hold locked in.
Sparkles: How long is it going to be before Danny fights his way out of this one?
Dollar: Might not be easy when he’s been slammed on his head multiple times.
Sparkles: Are you kidding me? Darko probably considers dropping on his head to be a good time.
Danny obviously isn’t having a good time right now…..but Taylor is thrilled…..THRILLED to POTENTIALLY have a win. Notice the emphasis on the ‘potentially’ part of that sentence? Because it’s time for the comeback…the baby face comeback.
Darko wedges his knees against the canvas, his back straightens up against Gavin’s chest, his shoulders fight against the force of Gavin’s elbows, his hands attempt to forcefully pry apart Gavins forearms.
That’s when Gavin attempts to shut down every part of Darko’s body. He pulls Darko to his feet only to subject him to a back drop driver. He heaves Danny into the air only to find him slipping free from his clutches and avoiding sheer devastation. Darko lands right behind Gavin, grabs him around the neck and sets up for a twisting diamond cutter.
Danny spins around to subject Gavin to a little bit of his own medicine…but it’s a bitter pill that Gavin will not tolerate. He pulls his head out of Danny’s clutches and then wedges his hands to his back, shoving Darko into the cables. Danny bounces off the ropes, coming back in at Taylor, who closes the gap, rushing in with the Real Men Use Lariats.
The arm connects….with the Darkoloator. YUP…Danny corkscrews through the air an blasts Gavin’s inbound arm with the dazzling roundhouse kick.
Dollar: Gavin didn’t see that coming.
Sparkles: Who would want to see Darko coming? That’s just gross.
The kick hasn’t dazzled Gavin, it’s damaged Gavin. He turns away from his opponent, shielding his injured arm across his chest and exposing his back to a roll up. Darko pulls him down into the school….not happening…
Gavin rolls right back out of the hold and unto his feet before diving forward into another lariat only to be countered into a small package…..Not happening..
Gavin rolls forward out of the hold and unto his feet, rushing into another lariat that is ducked by Darko, who catches him by the arm then hooks his other bicep, dragging him down into the backslide.
NYUH-UH!
Taylor rolls back and unto his feet before rushing right into Darko…right into Darko’s waiting arms Danny steps over Gavin’s head, hooks him around the thigh and sets up for the Last Rites.
Dollar: The roll ups weren’t effective, maybe the piledriver will be.
Darko starts to lift but Gavin has other plans, twisting his way out from under Danny’s body, taking him by the wrist in the process and then pulling him forward into the short arm lariat…..that misses its target thanks to a timely duck. Danny leaps into the air, extends his legs out across Gavin’s back, hooks those legs around Taylor’s far arm and then pulls him down into a crucifix.
Finally Taylor is down long enough for the official to make the count.
1
2
A two count at least….the official gets no further than that, because Gavin gets his shoulder up, landing on his knees…..or more accurately, his head. Darko fluently transitions from the crucifix into the piledriver position. He hoists Taylor into the air and drops him directly on top of his skull via the package piledriver.
Dollar: Last Rites….the 2.0 version.
Sparkles: Is it over?
Dollar: I hope so, I can’t stop picturing Gavin with a bust.
What’s busted was Taylor’s head, bouncing off the canvas as he lands on his spine….in the exact same position as Darko.
Danny is exhausted, the toll of this physical bout weighing heavy on his taxed body.
Dollar: These guys have really gone all out with the physicality in this match, and now it’s showing.
Referee Fitzpatrick starts a ten count, threatening to end this match without a clear cut winner, a fact that does not sit well with anyone. Darko begins to stir though, making sure the contest doesn’t end under such disappointing circumstances. Gavin has the same intention, dragging himself along towards the ropes, finding his body so strained and stressed that he can’t get up without the aid of the cables. But suddenly he is so overcome with testosterone that he no longer needs the ropes…and what has got his testosterone surging? The arrival of William Mason….No….not just William…but Adam Chase….and not just Adam Chase….but Kyle Black.
Dollar: Okay, seriously, what’s going on here?
Greyson: Didn’t William just say that he wanted to get a better view of this match?
Dollar: Yes, but Gavin blatantly told Adam and Kyle to stay away from the ring.
Greyson: But…
Dollar: But nothing…their deliberately disobeying Gavin’s edict.
Greyson: BUT…I think their trying to talk some business with William.
That business directly interferes with Gavin’s.
He verbalizes as much, and gestures as well. He shouts at the three men on the stage and wags a finger too…yes….the oh so dreaded finger wag. It is employed to condemn Chase.
Chase: Ya’see William, we surround ourselves with only the best athletes in Chase Global. Look at Gavin’s performance against Darko….
William: Oh please, Darko is hardly a measuring stick for talent.
Obviously Chase is not concerned with Gavin’s anger, far too consumed with expanding his clientele.
But Gavin is far too preoccupied by Adams’ endless sucking up session to notice what’s going on behind his back. Darko rushes in behind Gavin, takes him around the waist and snaps back into a lightning fast German suplex, complete with the bridge.
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2
Taylor kicks out, dropping over to his knees with Darko kipping up to his feet then spinning across them into a big roundhouse kick directly to the temple. Gavin’s neck is almost snapped by the blow, and Darko’s neck is snapping as well, snapping right back at the view of the three men presently occupying the stage.
Chase: So you don’t think Darko is a worthwhile investment, aye?
William: He’s nothing but a big cuddly Care-Bear who brings absolutely NOTHING to the table…
These words are spoken so loud, so boastfully, that Darko can’t help but to overhear and to react. He steps through the ropes, straddling them and now directing his wrath towards Mason.
Darko: You want to badmouth me? Stop hiding behind Twitter and stop hiding behind your new friends….come down this ramp and do it.
William grins ever so snidely.
William: It wouldn’t be worth the time it takes for me to remove my jacket.
Darko: If you come down that ramp I’m gonna put my foot up your ass, if it has room, seeing as that big stick is already in there.
The statement seems to have Mason taken ABACK.
William: My my. Are you going to let this man talk to a potential client like that?
Chase: No, but Gavin said…
Kyle: Let me handle this.
Chase: Kyle…KYLE!
The headstrong Black is on his way down the ramp before Adam could even get the words out of his mouth.
Dollar: It looks like Kyle is on his way down the ramp to deal with Danny Darko.
The only thing dealt, is a swift blow to the middle rope that Darko is currently straddling. The cable is kicked right up into Black’s testicles, and the testicles are kicked right up into Darko’s lower intestines. He doubles over as Gavin takes him by the arm, drags him back into the ring and delivers the Real Men Use Lariats.
The bicep almost beheads Darko, knocking him to the canvas with Gavin landing beside him. He is on the cusp of going for the pin when he spots Kyle nearing the ring.
Gavin: Do you have shit for brains? I told you to stay away!
Kyle: Relax brother, I’m here to do the right thing for Chase Global….the GOOD THING!
Gavin: Get out of here!
Gavin finally crawls into the cover on Danny, hooking the crease of his knee.
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2
The time spent jaw-jacking with Kyle proves detrimental, as it affords Danny the time to kick out.
Dollar: Gavin could have had the win if he weren’t so preoccupied with Black at ringside.
Sparkles: Who wouldn’t be distracted by Black? The man is a pussy monster.
Black remains fixed at ringside, just watching as Darko struggles to his knees and Gavin looks to take advantage of this position. He rushes into the ropes, ricochets off and comes back in for the All Star Maker only to have Darko lunge from his knees, driving the top of his head directly into Taylor’s mid-section. Gavin doubles over and Danny steps across the back of his neck, hooking his thigh. He heaves Gavin into the air for the Last Rites but Gavin shifts his weight, coming back down onto his feet. He then back drops Darko right onto his spine. Danny hits the canvas and sits up, reaching for his kidneys while Gavin takes off into the cables in front of him, ricocheting off. He then comes back in at the seated Darko and dives into the shining wizard. But wait…no, Gavin dropped to his back and avoided the blow, Gavin’s shin traveling past his skull.
The second Gavin lands on his feet, is a second he lives to regret, for Darko lunges to his feet, catches him around the waist and sets up for the German suplex. He is just about to drop back into the same sequence that might have picked him up the win earlier had he not been distracted by Mason. But Gavin isn’t about to fall victim to this once again, refusing to have his brains splattered across the canvas. Therefore he reaches out, grabs the shirt of the referee and holds on for all he’s worth.
Dollar: Darko TRYING to hit the suplex but Gavin is holding onto the referee.
Sparkles: If only Fitzpatrick had tits like Michelle Blacker, it would make holding onto him far more fun.
Fitzpatrick finally rips his shirt out of Gavin’s hands and twists to the canvas as a result of the force it took to free himself. He turns away and from the action just in time to miss Gavin delivering a mule kick directly to Darko’s testicles.
Dollar: Ooooh…a shot to the damned crotch!
Sparkles: That’s probably more action than Darko’s wife has given him all week.
Darko spins away from Gavin, holding his crotch and setting himself up for whatever mischievous move Taylor has in his arsenal. Taylor takes him around the waist and prepares to put his plot in motion but surprisingly Darko resists the German suplex attempt. Black notices the referee is out of position and looks to take instant advantage. He slides into the ring and rushes across it, throwing the Basic Black…The lariat connects….with Gavin’s throat.
Danny ducks his head just in time and the lariat almost beheads Taylor as a result.
Sparkles: YOW!!
Greyson: Was that intentional?
Dollar: I’d like to think that.
The lariat has Taylor on the canvas, gasping for air, his windpipe closing and closing quick. Kyle stands over him but instead of looking apologetic, he just sneers.
Chase: Kyle….dammit….just-just, get out of there…NOW!
At last Black follows orders, hearing Chase’s shouts Adam’s stance on the mid-way point of the ramp. Kyle rolls out of the ring and Darko is now rolling into the cover, hooking Gavin’s leg.
Dollar: Darko is gonna….he’s gonna pin Gavin…and it’s…it’s all thanks to Black.
The official is finally back in position….position to make the count.
1
2
And the hand comes down to end Taylor’s fight….but Taylor’s fight is not over yet. He launches a shoulder to the air and the crowd from their seats.
Sparkles: Mind blowing shit here.
Dollar: Amazingly Gavin kicks out.
Sparkles: In spite of his own stablemate ALMOST costing him the match.
That stablemate is already making his way up the ramp, uninterested in Gavin’s plight. All the while Adam is scolding him for that lariat and William is just shaking his head in the background.
William: You know what? Sorry Uncle Adam, I’m just not impressed.
With that said, William moves to the backstage area, Chase and Black in hot pursuit.
Chase: Wait William, you can’t judge Chase Global on one little snafu.
That snafu might have just cost Gavin a very huge win. In fact, Danny now guarantees just that. He stands up and grabs Gavin around the neck, dragging his head under his seat and setting up for the Last Rites. But what Darko doesn’t see is exactly what has given Adam and Black cause to pause. The two stare down from the stage to the area just down below, where the Blacklist has materialized. Mika makes sure she gets her ‘Uncle’s’ attention, waving to Adam as she and her cohorts move down the ramp that Chase Global is using to depart.
Dollar: Nothing is going to keep Darko from hitting this move now.
Nothing? Not likely. Because the second Darko begins to heave Gavin into the air, both men find themselves toppled by Mika Kozlov, Aaron Harrison and Lukas Montgomery.
Dollar: BLACKLIST!
Sparkles: These bitches are out here again!
Dollar: Their attacking Darko….I suppose for sticking his nose in their business last week.
That nose prepares to be broken as Darko is spun around and nailed with the Quieter directly in the face. He then goes spiraling towards Harrison, who boots him to the ribs, heaves him into the air and ultimately spikes him on the back of the neck with the Hybrid Theory. Meanwhile Mika is heaving Gavin’s arm into the air and drilling him straight to the chest with the Heart Punch. The bell is repeatedly chiming in the background, official Fitzpatrick given no recourse but to throw out this match.
Dollar: And thanks to the Blacklist..this match has just been thrown out.
Sparkles: Jesus, first Chase Global interferes and now the Blacklist gets involved too?
Dollar: Can you please say, ‘this is cray-cray?’
Sparkles: Why the fuck would I do that?
Dollar: Please just say it.
The Blacklist continues to assault Darko for his interference last week, and Gavin for just being there. Eventually Taylor spills to the outside of the ring and the beat down on Darko escalates as he’s dragged to his feet by both Harrison and Mika so that Montgomery can rush in and almost behead Danny with an absolutely crippling big boot.
Dollar: GOD what force from that kick.
Spencer: I believe Darko has been properly taught the error of his ways and he’s learned NEVER to trifle in the affairs of the Blacklist again.
Mika stops raining down fists to Darko’s forehead from her mounted position on his sternum. Aaron stops twisting the fork around his fingers in anticipation of bloodying Darko. Montgomery stops rotating his shoulders as he prepares for a second Quieter.
All acts, all preparation ends so that the Trinity can focus on the words being delivered by Spencer Klein from the rafters over their heads.
Spencer: Kindly help Danny make his exit.
Montgomery grabs Darko around the neck, heaves him up to his feet and then charges him at the ropes and throws him through to the outside of the ring.
Spencer: And Lucas, Mika, please exit as well.
Montgomery and Kozlov exchange confused glances.
Spencer: I said leave the ring NOW….
A reluctant Lucas and Mika begin to slip through the ropes before looking back at Harrison….realizing they’re leaving him alone in the ring.
Spencer: Don’t worry about Aaron, he’ll be fine….Because he and I, we’re FINALLY going to solve the Orlando Cruze problem once and for all.
Jessica: Marie, come on, stop already!
Jones doesn’t even glance over her shoulder to acknowledge the requests of her sister, moving with great urgency towards the car at the edge of the parking lot. Jessica picks up the pace in a desperate attempt to catch up to her.
Jessica: Where are you going? We need to talk.
Marie: Sorry. In a hurry….
Marie passes the barely street legalized Lamborghini and moves towards the far more modest Subaru. A Subaru with engine revving, Alkysandra Blackheart behind the wheel, and Cassidy Cage in the passenger’s seat.
Marie: I’ll IM you later this week, and we’ll get together.
Marie throws her bag into the backseat before hopping into the Subaru as well.
Jessica: No, we ned to talk and talk right now…You can’t keep avoiding me.
Apparently she can, evident as the Subaru takes off from the parking lot and leaves Jessica choking on exhaust fumes.
Jessica: You want an IM, I’ll give you a damned IM…
Her nose immediately buried itself in the screen of her IPhone, beginning to write a scathing text message. But the texting ends when the IPhone AND Lasiewicz’s nose go crumbling to the asphalt. All thanks to the trunk of a Ford Mustang backing forcefully into Jessica’s body. She flies up over the bumper, and eventually smacks off the rear windshield. The Mustang screeches to a halt and sends Jessica flying off the trunk to the ground below.
Valentina: Damn…
Valentina Madison steps out of the driver’s seat and overlooks her muscle car, completely ignoring the woman she just ran down with her vehicle.
Valentina: You better not have chipped the paint job.
Robert, destroyer of means, paces the locker-room, continuing to overlook the sacred parchment known as the Mnooseville charter. His cloaked associates linger in the background, heads lowered in a respectful bow towards the Master of the Mnooses.
Rachel Frost: Howdy Robert.
The eyes rise instantly from the charter to the face of Rachel, though Frost is unintimidated by the gaze of the vengeful soul.
Robert: Has Rachel no decency. How dare Rachel disturb the reading of Robert’s sacred charter.
Frost: Apologies sweetheart….
Robert: Here….
The parchment is handed from Robert to one of his cloaked followers.
Robert: Protect this as if it were your wiggy, for Robert’s hand need be freed to vanquish this mean.
Frost: Easy now Robert…..I’m not here for any ‘vanquishing,’ I’m here to offer you absolution.
Robert: Robert need no absolution, for Robert is a man without sin.
Frost: True, but those you’ve been associating with of late are a corrupting influence. It’s not too late though, Darlin’. Not too late for you be spared from this evening’s execution.
Robert: No you evil red throated shrew, Robert will stand beside his new consortium of friends tonight.
Frost: That’s tragic, Robert, the Sinistry believes you have potential. That unlike your associates, you can be saved.
Robert: Rachel is the one who need be saved, because when Robert, the Black Crusade, P Wiggleton Wiggy, and Katelyn Boobler head to that ring this evening, it is the Sinistry that shall be executed.
Frost: Believe me Robert, this is a decision you will forever regret….
Mr. Gaunt: is that so?
Rachel slowly turns to confirm that Mr. Gaunt is located behind her, cane with blade sheathed within clutched by his hand.
Frost: Hello there, Mnoose defiler.
Mr. Gaunt: Greetings, Mrs. Frost, to what do we attribute the honor of your company this evening? Making another feeble attempt to manipulate Robert, and offer repetitious warnings regarding this pending ‘execution.’
Frost: Warnings you might want to heed.
Mr. Gaunt: Oh, we have heeded, and we will respond. For tonight, the Black Crusade and all of those aided by our influence will head to that ring and we will handle the Sinistry once and at long last. For their WILL be finality.
Frost: Is this supposed to intimidate me?
Mr. Gaunt: No, but perhaps this visual will.
The cane is raised to point, point behind Rachel’s back. Just then the lights in the room begin to flicker and the screen undergoes some pixel distortion. Frost turns even slower this time, addressing not only Robert, but LEGION. The two biggest and most imposing figures in the IWC stand shoulder to shoulder, united. Just as they will be later tonight, when the war between the Black Crusade and the Sinistry is resolved in the middle of the ring.
Cameras are fixated on Aaron Harrison, waiting anxiously to find out what he’s going to do next….Well….not just him, but the equally as maniacal figure watching from the rafters. Spencer Klein is no longer seated, motivated to stand and lean over the bannister to get a better view of Harrison and the man ABOUT to join him in the ring.
Dollar: Legion and Robert are joined as one…which presents quite the dilemma for the Sinistry….And Aaron Harrison and Spencer Klein presenting a hell of a dilemma themselves, for our President Orlando Cruze.
Greyson: Who knows what Spencer and Harrison have in mind for Orlando.
Dollar: They promised that they’re going to end their long standing issues with the Icon…which has the hair on my arms standing on end.
Sparkles: If I could get hives, I’d probably be breaking out in them right now.
Spencer: Aaron…
Every word spoken by Klein has the world….the antisocial Harrison amongst them…..absolutely captivated.
Spencer: You know what to do.
Harrison: Yes I do, Spencer, yes I do.
A microphone is now in Harrison’s hand, while the other is occupied by the fork.
Harrison: If you’ve been listening to Ba’al, apparently tonight is all about finality. And if that’s true, then Orlando, I think the two of us desperately need some closure.
Dollar: I’m literally sick at the thought of what he could mean by that.
Harrison is about to make that clear if given the opportunity, though many of the hecklers aren’t about to.
Harrison: So Orlando, I have no right to ask it of you, but would you please come to this ring and give me an opportunity to….to….apologize.
Sparkles: Say what now?
Dollar: Harrison wants to…wants to APOLOGIZE?
Greyson: This is a set-up right?
For the first time in his life, Harrison wears an expression of genuine emotion.
Harrison: I understand you’re all surprised to hear me say that, but after everything the Blacklist has done to Orlando Cruze and to his enchanting wife, it’s only right that I fall on my sword and offer a sincere, heart-felt apology. And if Orlando will come to the ring, I will personally deliver that apology face to face, man to man.
There are already loud chants of ‘bullshit’ drowning out Harrison’s words.
Harrison: We’ve done some cruel things to you, Orlando….some inhuman things….Acts I know you will never be able to forgive me for….but at the very least maybe my apology can help the both of us finally move on and put these issues behind us. So Orlando….I’m…I’m…BEGGING you to come to this ring and give me an opportunity to make amends.
Dollar: Wait-wait-wait….Harrison actually thinks that a simple apology is going to make up for all the HORRIBLE things he and the Blacklist have done to Orlando? For God sakes, they set the man’s house on fire last week.
Sparkles: if he owes anyone an apology, it’s ME. After he had his fifty or so Blacklist cohorts attacked me a few weeks ago.
The wait continues…with absolutely no pay off….Orlando obviously isn’t taking the bait.
Harrison: Orlando, you have no reason to trust me, so I don’t blame you for being reluctant to come out here, but I swear that this is no set-up, that Mika and Montgomery are not waiting to jump you. This is an honest to God apology.
Still nothing…No sight of the Icon.
Harrison: Alright, if you won’t come out here, then I’ll just trust your watching from somewhere in the building right now and can hear my apology….
Romeo: Apologies?
It isn’t Orlando, but it is a man who has been wronged by the Blacklist. Romeo Damascus makes his way down the ramp sporting a huge ace bandage over the skull that was disgustingly lacerated by the Movement last week. Though that heinous assault was only made possible thanks to the tazing from Harrison and the Hybrid Theory delivered shortly thereafter.
Sparkles: God, Orlando looks so different this close. When did he grow hair?
Dollar: That’s NOT Orlando, Sparkles…it’s Romeo Damascus, the guy who was screwed over by Harrison last week. Actually, I’m surprised to see him out here after everything that the Blacklist…AND the Movement did to him.
Yes, after being tazed, after being exsanguinated, Romeo still manages to get into the ring with the man who reprehensibly assaulted him just a week prior. In spite of the fork in his hand, Harrison makes no attempt to repeat history.
Romeo: You wish to apologize to Orlando Cruze, do you?
Harrison: That’s my intention.
Romeo: Hmmm, it seems to me that if you were truly full of remorse, then you would apologize to me.
The proposition seems to AMUSE Harrison.
Harrison: Were your feelings hurt by my actions last week? Was your ego bruised?
This is not the apology Romeo actually had designs on receiving.
Harrison: That’s funny, Romeo, because I was under the impression that you were a man without feelings. That like myself, you’ve been accused of having no soul. But from what I’ve seen since your overhyped and underwhelming debut, is a troubled….sad….and depressed individual.
The psychological assault fails to effect Romeo, who blankly stares forth, not even batting an eye in response.
Harrison: I guess the fans were as wrong about you as they are about me. You’re not the socipathic artist you’ve been billed as….you’re actually a troubled, depressed, and particularly sad individual. One who needs more than just an apology….Romeo….what you really need is a great big hug.
Damascus would accept a hug, if the person giving the hug would accept a blade in the ribcage.
Romeo: Who knew you were such an amusing man, Harrison. But you’ll have to forgive me, I’m not in a particularly jovial mood.
Harrison: Would an apology actually make you feel better?
Romeo: I didn’t come out here for an apology, Aaron.
Harrison: Of course you didn’t, and I wouldn’t give one to you either. You want to know why? Because I’m the victim in this situation. I was lied to….I was sold on the idea that you’re an absolute monster…An antisocial psychopath. So I did what I did last week out of self-preservation. I had just survived the most brutal match of my career inside of Hell in a Cell….so I was in no condition to be fed, by Orlando no doubt, to a murderous psychopath. You should actually take it as a compliment that I felt the need go to such lengths to avoid facing you one on one….
Romeo: You actually make some pretty valid points, Harrison. And from your perspective I can see why maybe it’s ME who should be apologetic towards YOU. Because you were promised a match against a sophisticated sociopath last week, but that’s not who you faced. Perhaps tonight, I can make that up to you though…
Harrison actually invites Romeo to attempt to get physical, Spencer on the other hand has a different take on the potential blood-letting.
Spencer: Romeo, we understand your frustrated…but your frustrations, they aren’t with the Black Crusade, they’re with yourself.
Although Romeo is listening to Spencer, Damascus is smart enough not to take his eyes from Harrison and the weapon in his hand.
Spencer: You’re angry that you haven’t performed up to the standards Simon Cagero had envisioned for you. That you’ve done such an inadequate job of representing Simon that he feels compelled to return to the ring himself just to stop you from further disgracing his legacy. So instead of targeting Harrison and the Blacklist, you should take a much needed sabbatical so that you can find yourself. So that you can discover the Romeo of old.
There is only one method Romeo is about to employ in order to return to form, his mind made up by the repetitious slanders from Klein.
Spencer: It’s not the Blacklist’s fault that you’ve become nothing but a domesticated house-pet. And worse yet, you’re Orlando’s pet….
As Spencer proceeds with his rant, Romeo grows more unnerved, and the fans grow even louder. Why? Because Orlando has finally shown up, but it’s not to receive an apology, and it’s not in the ring. From the shadows of the rafters emerges the Icon, stepping up behind Spencer, and holding a kendo-stick in his palms.
Dollar: Uuuuuh-oooooh.
Spencer: It seems, Romeo, that you’re unable to accept culpability for what you’ve become, much like Orlando is unable to take fault for his loss at Invictus. Yes, Aaron is apologetic, but it’s not like Orlando hasn’t brought much of this pain and suffrage upon himself. Harrison seems to forget what Orlando tried to do to he and the Blacklist…
Well, Orlando is going to give Harrison a reminder. A cane swings with such force it almost splits the staff in half and probably does the same to Spencer’s spine.
Dollar: Orlando attacking Spencer….attacking Spencer in the rafters.
Harrison’s turns his widening eyes to the ceiling above where Spencer is bludgeoned again by the cane. Orlando slams the staff repeatedly over the spine of the man who set fire to his dream home with Taylor Chase, the man who took a taser to his cheek at Invictus, the man responsible for the creation of a group that has caused Orlando and his wife so much misfortune.
Dollar Orlando absolutely wearing out Spencer…exacting vengeance for everything the Blacklist has done to him.
Sparkles: Give him a couple shots for me too.
Cane shots aren’t the only thing Orlando is going to give….no….that would be letting Spencer get off easy. He drops the weapon and secures another…an electricall cable.
Orlando: Are you sorry? Are you sorry now?
The cord is wrapped around Spencer’s neck.
Dollar: Hold up Orlando…
Greyson: Don’t take this to such an extreme.
Dollar: Extreme? This is beyond extreme, he’s about to employ some capital punishment.
Sparkles: He’s gonna hang that mofo.
The cringing crowd watches as Spencer has the cord tangled about his throat and he’s now about to be thrown over the railing and hung from the rafters.
Orlando: Apology accepted.
Harrison is out of the ring and rushing through the crowd, but there is no way he’s going to get to the rafters, not in time to save Spencer.
Montgomery and Mika are barreling down the ramp and joining Aaron in his attempt at salvation.
Orlando, driven past the brink of insanity, prepares to throw aside any moral compulsions….He’s about to indulge that inner darkness festering in the depths of his soul, and he’s about to do it by turning the electrical cord around Spencer’s neck into a noose. Without a second’s doubt, Orlando charges Klein towards the railing and prepares to throw him over.
Amazingly Klein manages to catch the railing, wrapping his arms and his legs around it in an act of self-preservation…nay…an act of saving his life. That clutch on the bannister will be tested, as well as his zest for living. Orlando picks up the cane and slams it down over the back of Klein’s head in an attempt to force him to break his grip on the railing. Instead it’s the cane that breaks, against the railing Klein WAS holding onto. Spencer clears out of the way in the nick of time. Furthermore, Klein removes the cord from around his red throat, taking off and taking off in a hurry….showing that he truly does wish to continue drawing breath in spite of his disgust with the world around him.
Dollar: Spencer somehow manages to evade Orlando just before he could be….God….murdered.
Sparkles: Get him Orlando….get him!
Dollar: This issue has gone way WAY too far.
Orlando is irked that his attempt to END Spencer went awry, but at the very least he can take satisfaction in knowing that he’s sent a message, and that he has shown the Blacklist he can stoop to their levels.
Dollar: The battles between Cruze and the Blacklist….it HAS to end….HAS to.
A nonplussed Romeo watches all of this pan out with a look of utter contempt. He appreciates Orlando’s efforts to forever maim Spencer, as well as scar everyone who was about to bare witness to the visual, but his mind is also heavy with the burden of Klein’s comments. Has he truly become a tamed….’domesticated’ version of the artistic sociopath he once was? Has his attempts to lead a normal life, made him a marked and easy target….
A video consumes the Cartel-tron, creating visuals that consumes the minds of the fans. Their wide eyes fixated on the images of a church sporting walls covered in moss and other such vegetation, the earth reclaiming the stones torn away from it. The missing roof, and the shattered wall of the hill mounted structure, allows for light to trickle forth from within the broken structure into the night.
Voice: Deimos….God of fear, dread and terror…..
A shadow stretches over one of the walls of the church, a dark void shaped like a human.
Voice: Phobos….God of panic fear, fright and battlefield rout….
Another shadow forms standing beside the other.
Voice: The time has come for you to break free from the imaginations of mortal men. No longer will you be mere specters haunting the dreams of the weak. For you must now walk this earthly realm and inspire more than just fear….more than mere panic….more than sheer dread…more than just a bad dream.
A loud screech is heard behind the camera, which spins around, finding itself zoomed in on a set of lips…lips featuring rows of teeth that twist into an absolutely demonic smile.
THE MOVEMENT IS HERE
Once the ring lights raise we find Romeo Damascus strung upside down, hanging from his ankles high above the ring. In another absolutely disgusting visual, Romeo is captured not just hanging but bleeding. Large gashes have been opened in both his forearms and biceps, allowing crimson fluid to seep from the wounds and into the goblets held beneath, by not one, but TWO individuals.
These two men keep their heads bowed, but their arms raised aloft in order to capture the blood that pours over their golden cups.
The fans weigh in with a mixture of both fear and repulsion, some shielding the eyes of their children in response to this absolutely disturbing sight….one that will be hard pressed to remove from their minds. Every time they close their eyes they will see Romeo, hanging by his bound feet, and bleeding from his lacerated arms…all thanks to the two men stood beneath, goblets overflowing with Damascus’ life force.
A split screen is employed, with Lucas Knight featured on one side seated in his locker-room, and Taylor Chase on the other side, putting to use her own private dressing room. While Lucas silently stews over the events of the night, Taylor is granted no such solitude. She stands there listening to the brain washing rhetoric of Silas Mason, Kelcey Wallace and Scott Cannon. Unfortunately, the words of this manipulative lot are drowned out by an instrumental version of the Riot theme song.
In mere moments we will find out rather Chase, or Knight can possibly form a cohesive duo given the multiple conundrums the two have faced throughout the night.
Axl Evermore….an impatient Axl Evermore stands outside the office of Frankie Paradise, arms crossed over his chest and expression twisted into a grimace. His toe is tapping to the ground and his head rocking into the wall repeatedly….agonizingly anticipating the opportunity to finish his interview with Frankie Paradise. At last the door opens and unfortunately it’s NOT Paradise who steps out to address Axl, it’s Amanda Blayze.
Axl: FINALLY! Are you and Frankie through?
Amanda: For now.
Axl: Good, then I can continue my interview.
Axl is just about to step back into the office only to have Amanda grab him by the shirt.
Amanda: Frankie wanted me to inform you that he’s not in a mood to entertain your questions right now.
Axl: What kind of horse shit is that?
Amanda: But if you want to talk to me, I’d be more than happy to give you an exclusive scoop.
Axl: Exclusive you say? Meh, might as well as make lemonade out of piss.
Amanda: That’s the spirit.
Axl: You said something about an exclusive?
Amanda: We all know Frankie Paradise has been handling talent contracts….
Axl: Is he?
Amanda: Yeah, his firings of Nathan Creed and Ashley-Marie Chase have been pretty well publicized.
Axl: Poor boxhead.
Amanda: So if anyone would know if Brittany Lohan’s contact had actually been terminated, it would be Paradise. Axl: Aaaand? Amanda: The guy was clueless. Axl: This is news? Amanda: Clueless regarding Brittany’s contract. Axl: Oh…..interesting. Amanda: Very…..VERY Interesting. Axl: But erm, isn’t Kloe Masters technically in charge of talent relations? Amanda: Mmmmhhmmmm….Hence why she’s next on my list.
BEFORE THE BREAK
Just because the censors haven’t been tested enough tonight the IWC decides to replay the grim footage many could go without witnessing once again. First we see the near hanging of Spencer Klein by Orlando Cruze, and if that wasn’t nearly bad enough, we also get the visual of Romeo hanging by his ankles and being drained of his blood by the Movement.
Sparkles: Just want to take a moment and thank the Movement for making sure we get a TV MA rating for our shows. Do those freaks have no appreciation for all of the sponsors they just cost us?
Dollar: You talk about disturbing. Well what we just saw, it went BEYOND disturbing.
Greyson: First Orlando tried to hang Spencer Klein from the rafters….
This graphic scene is shown one more time because it wasn’t burned into the minds of a traumatized crowd enough. Spencer is shockingly assaulted with a kendo-stick from behind by Orlando who managed to sneak up on him in the rafters. He then wraps a cord around Klein’s throat before trying to Spencer over the railing to strangle the life out of him.
Dollar: The Blacklists attempt to ‘apologize’ to Orlando back fired with Cruze almost turning that electrical cord into a noose on Spencer…
Greyson: But Klein got away.
Dollar: Unfortunately, the same could not be said for Romeo.
To make sure younger viewers will need years of therapy, we once again see Damascus strung from the rafters, replenishing the empty goblets of the mysterious Movement members down below….with his own blood.
Dollar: What is this Movement? And what is their purpose?
Greyson: Just when you think that the Blacklist and the Sinistry had the market cornered on barbarity, enter the Movement, who have taken depravity to a whole new level.
Dollar: And poor Romeo, for the second straight week HE’S on the receiving end of the Movement’s statement…..whatever the hell that statement is.
Back to live action where a stretcher is being used to cart Romeo towards the backstage area, so drained of blood that he’s unable to make use of any of his muscles.
Dollar: In what has become an all too familiar sight ANOTHER of the IWC roster being taken away from the ring by way of stretcher.
Sparkles: Can we get Hawkeye Pierce and BJ Honeycutt to just run a triage center for us backstage.
Greyson: I’m more a Trapper John man myself.
Sparkles: God how I hope your plane spins out over the sea of Japan.
Dollar: Gentlemen…gentlemen PLEASE….in a matter of moments here we’re finally going to have our main event, which will draw to an end another chaotic night in the annals of IWC his….
Abigail: Gosh…
Obviously Abigail Lindsey isn’t ready for the main event….She’s got a nagging thought on her mind that HAS to be purged before this night can end. She steps through the curtains and stops on the stage, managing to speak over the roar of the crowd.
Dollar: Okay, apparently I spoke too soon….
Greyson: Looks like we’re not getting our main event just yet, after-all.
So much friction is applied on her microphone that it threatens to put blisters in Abigail’s palm. This type of anger has never been seen out of Lindsey, who tonight, has been pushed to her emotional threshold….well…far past it.
Abigail: Just gosh….I swear, Cassidy, Alana, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you two.
Her head is shaken, but it’s going to take far more than that to deal with the issue between herself and her foes.
Abigail: You attack me, you attack my sister, and you attack the entire Lohan family. Which I guess we kind of have coming. But Maxine… she didn’t deserve this….She didn’t deserve to have the two of you put your hands on her tonight.
The head stops shaking so that Abigail can glare into the camera, allowing anyone, including her rivals, to see the conviction in her eyes.
Abigail: I’m not about to let the two of you drag innocent people into the middle of OUR issues. This is going to end ladies…..and I say we end it at Extreme Fury. I say we end this in a TRIPLE THREAT MATCH.
Give the long, interwoven history of all three ladies, the crowd is absolutely on board with this idea.
Abigail: And since you two like to use weapons to get the drop on innocent people, how about you bring those along. That’s right, let’s make it a Bring Your Own Weapon Triple Threat Match.
Sparkles: I much prefer a bring your own beer, but this works too.
Abigail gives the fans only a moment to marinate on this game-changing challenge.
Abigail: The three of us, we knew it would come to this….So let’s stop dragging this out….Let’s finish this!
The microphone is thrown to the ground and Abigail moves towards the curtains.
Dollar: Wow…Abigail Lindsey versus Alana Starr vs. Cassidy Cage at Extreme Fury? A three way?
Sparkles: My dreams have just come true.
Greyson: Not that type of three way, Sparkles.
Sparkles: And my dreams have just been crushed.
Dollar: And with the prospect that all three ladies can bring along their own weapons, well, we could be in store for one of the most intense matches we’ve potentially ever….
Katelyn: Kill, Foxx, kill….
Another microphone has found its way into the palm of Katelyn Buehler, who occupies the space emptied by Abigail Lindsey.
Dollar: To hell with it, are we ever going to stick to the show format?
Sparkles: We have show formats? Since when?
The script has pretty much been balled up, spit on and tossed out the window
Katelyn: This is the thought that races through the head of Rachel Foxx…but she and I must have more in common than I care to admit, because ‘Kill, Foxx, kill,’ has been repeating over and over and over again in the back of my mind all night long.
Sparkles: Don’t tell me we’re going to have another attempted homicide tonight.
If Katelyn has her way, that’s JUST what the crowd will witness.
Katelyn: There’s only one way to get this thought out of my head.
A head she currently palms to fight the homicidal thoughts racing through them.
Katelyn: I HAVE to face you one more time….Screw it, I’ll even…I’ll even face you in the match YOU want….a Crucifixion match…
Brains are about to explode and sphincters the world over have just tightened.
Katelyn: Here’s your chance to back up your threats, you won’t get another. So are you willing to battle me at Extreme Fury? I guess I’ll find out tonight, because I plan on standing beside my friends when we battle the Sinistry in the middle of this ring, and I beat an answer out of you.
The bloodied Buehler is still yearning for a fight. Even throwing Jessica Wilde off the stage tonight wasn’t enough for her….She wants…no, she NEEDS more. She NEEDS absolution from Rachel Foxx, and one way or another, she’s getting it.
Dollar: Not to sound repetitious.
Sparkles: Too late for that.
Dollar:….But WOW! Another major challenge made for Extreme Fury.
Sparkles: What exactly is a crucifixion match though?
Greyson: I’m almost afraid to find out.
Buehler has made her way to the backstage area, a direct threat sent to Foxx, one that awaits an answer….presumably to come tonight.
Ba’al: I never thought the day would finally come.
Ba’al looks up towards the ceiling with an expression of pure reverence.
Ba’al: We have anticipated this moment for so long….and now, it is finally here.
Ba’al looks down unto his family with pure delight.
Ba’al: The execution is nigh. Are we prepared?
Jonathan Collins, Rachel Frost, Jaina Frost, Rachel Foxx….and…Desmond Drake, they all nod in the affirmative. Looking towards the Prince of Sin from their respective seats.
Ba’al: Then let us bring this war for righteousness to an end….It is time to wash away our problems with the sinful, irredeemable masses of the Black Crusade, the Blacklist, and all others amidst this roster of the damned. For every piece is finally in place.
Rachel Frost: All save for one, Kierian.
That final piece is provided the moment the door to the office opens and in steps a cloaked individual….the very cloaked individual entrusted by Robert to protect the sacred Mnooseville Charter. The document remains in this man’s hands and is bestowed unto the former Tatum McGraw.
Frost: You did well.
Ba’al: Come along my family, the time for the execution is here.
The group, now with the Mnooseville Charter in hand, make their way from the office and towards the ring, ready to unleash…God only knows what at this point.
Alana Starr, boy, she’s been all over the place tonight, and now she’s about to be all over the catering area, seeking some much needed nourishment considering that beating down Maxine Moore built up quite the appetite, But she suddenly loses that appetite when finding another human obstacle in her way, that obstacle being her ex.
Andre Jordan represents, with all the custom trimmings. The Evolution Championship, the IPhone in his palm, and a smile plastered over his face. Though he’s not on tonight’s card, he is still present to weigh in on all of the evening’s ‘festivities.’ In fact, he’s presently discussing said events with whomever is on the other end of the phone…assuming he’s not pulling a Kathryn Pearson and secretly talking to himself…..which would just be all kinds of weird.
Andre: Seriously, if one more person asks me what I thought of Joffrey’s death I’m going to lose my God damned mind. I don’t even know who the hell Joffrey is…
He listens to an explanation, not that he was asking for one.
Andre: Yeah, yeah, it’s kind of hard to sit down and watch television man, I’m either wrestling, training for wrestling, or traveling for wrestling. In order to be a success in this bizz, you have to eat, sleep, and breathe wrestling.
Andre’s annoyance seems to be instantly swept aside.
Andre: Yep, moments like my upcoming match against Lucas Knight, they make up for all the sacrifices. Cannot wait until next week. I haven’t been this legitimately excited to kick someone’s ass since that bully in elementary school stole my twinkie….
He listens to the voice on the other end of the voice.
Andre: It’s gonna be bliss man…Might not have gone about the way I wanted, considering I asked to face every single Chase Global member at once, but getting them one after another, that works too. First I took out Gavin and Kyle, then I move onto Leviticus, and it all culminates to me getting my hands on Lucas.
Alana: Is that so?
Dre turns to counter the antagonized expression of Alana with his annoyed expression
Andre: Hold on man….
The phone lowers from his ears so that there’s nothing distracting Andre from Alana.
Alana: Well-well, it’s about time you finally devoted your attention where it should be. If you had paid me the proper time I DESERVED then maybe you wouldn’t be getting your fat ass kicked by my scrumptious Lucas.
Andre: Whoa? Did you just describe Lucas as scrumptious? Because the only thing he makes me want to do is upchuck. He should seriously change his name to Lucas “Syrup of Ipecac” Knight.
Alana: You have no right to sully the name of Knight, he is a GOOD man….and you will learn just how good he is in Nottingham.
Andre: I’m looking forward to it, Jelly-Bean…
The name that once make Alana’s heart skip a beat, now makes her stomach turn.
Alana: Really? Your looking forward to the worse night of your life, both professionally and personally? A night I’LL make sure you never forget?
Andre: If you want to get involved, I guess I’ll have to deal with ya, just like I did on the last Rot.
Alana: Are…are YOU threatening ME?
Andre: I can’t hold back my punches anymore when it comes to you You made a decision to sleep with dogs, now you’re gonna get bit.
Gavin: You’re hardly one to compare others to dogs…
In spite of just taking a mugging at the hands of the Blacklist, Gavin Taylor steps towards Andre. The trapezius muscle in Taylor’s shoulder, and the shoulder it’s connected to, and the shoulder the arm is connected to…oh to hell with it…every muscle and every limb is presently enflamed with pain. But Gavin ain’t backing down….injury or no injuries.
Gavin:…Someone should have put a muzzle on you a long time ago.
Alana and Andre are only unified by their mutual surprise to see Gavin.
Andre: Gaaaaavin Taylor…
The excited intro is replaced by repeated glances over Gavin’s shoulders, staring towards his backside.
Gavin: What’s wrong?
Andre: Sorry, I’m just not use to seeing you without Adam Chase’s head up your ass. Or vice versa.
Gavin: Says the man who behaves like an ass.
Andre: Me, an ass? Nah, I behave like a champion….
The gold is raised from Andre’s shoulder and dangles inches from Gavin’s face.
Andre: I don’t blame you for making that mistake though, it’s probably been so long since you’ve held title gold that you don’t even remember how to act like a champion.
Gavin doesn’t let these scornful words affect him.
Gavin: That…THAT will change when I get my one on one rematch for the championship I NEVER lost…
Andre: You’re still expecting people to buy that act? Stuff it Gavin. Everyone knows I’m superior to you in every single way. Tabitha knows it, the fans know it, and deep down, YOU know it.
Gavin: Well Dre….I guess there’s only one way to find out….
Alana: That’s right…that’s right….
Andre: When I make it past Leviticus….and finish this with Lucas Knight…..MAYBE we’ll finish this…..MAYBE.
Dre returns the strap to his shoulder, but still is flaunting it.
Andre: Now if the two of you will excuse me, the champ is gonna go and scout his next victim…MAYBE I’ll be seeing you in the future….MAYBE not.
With title in tow, Dre moves around Gavin, the last obstacle standing between the champion and the ring. Alana finds herself staring down another athlete headed for the squared circle, one who she has a storied history with….a story that’s more like a Grimm fairy tale. Gavin also watches Jordan walk away, still rubbing his injured joints but looking ready for a fight nevertheless.
Gavin: MAYBE you’ll be seeing me much sooner than you anticipated.
The melody provided by Rev Theory energizes and pumps the crowd to the point where they are all leaping towards their feet. They stand in recognition of Lucas Knight’s arrival, a man who in spite of his best efforts, just can’t get the people to hate him. A man who has held gold the world over, moves to the stage, about to team with an individual who has hold of another title he’d like to add to his list of accolades. In spite of the shot from the steel chair earlier tonight, Lucas looks to have recovered, both physically and focally.
Dollar: Lucas Knight, one half of the most dysfunctional tag teams we’ve ever seen here in the IWC, and I say that being a former partner of TPKid AND Porno Lad.
Sparkles: Lucas better have eyes coming out of his ass tonight.
Greyson: Another wonderfully twisted visual, Sparkles.
Sparkles: You’re welcomed.
Dollar: Silas Mason and Ba’al have put a full court press on driving a wedge between Knight and Taylor tonight, and that fact seems to be weighing heavy upon the mind of the number one contender.
Indeed, Knight’s mind is burdened, and his eyes heavy with the weight of the world. Though he will not buckle beneath this strain or give in to the pressure. Hopefully the same can be said about the next entrant, who is welcomed to a chorus of cheers and the tunes of “Boss’s Daughter.” Taylor Chase has experienced quite the roller coaster of emotions tonight, running the gamut from extreme highs, to morale crushing lows…..All thanks to the influence of Ba’al and the individual currently following Tay to the ring. Lucas’ face twists into a mask of malice at the sight of Silas Mason escorting the World Heavyweight Champion towards the ring.
Dollar: What in the hell is Silas Mason thinking coming out here with Taylor? He should know Lucas wants to do nothing short of what Orlando TRIED to do to Spencer Klein a few moments ago.
Sparkles: I’d follow Tay’s ass anywhere…ANYWHERE!
Dollar: I truly, sincerely hope that Taylor is NOT listening to this guy. I would say he’s lower than dirt, but that would be insulting dirt.
Greyson: You know she’s starting to buy into it, Johnny. The video at the start of the show, the ‘attack’ on Kelcey Wallace….the assault from Scott Cannon. It’s all worked to warp Taylor’s mind.
Which may be true, but it doesn’t stop Lucas from attempting to set Taylor straight. Yes, even as the World Champion slides into the ring and stares with even more malice at Knight, than he directed at Silas, Lucas is still trying to sail on troubled waters.
Knight: Don’t do it Tay…I see that look in your eyes. I’ve had it before. Your cooking something up right now….You’re thinking about what you’re going to do when I turn my back, or fearing what’s going to happen to you when you turn your back on me.
Taylor: Wow, Lucas, you know me so well.
Knight: That I do…So let me put your mind at ease Lass, I hold no grudges for that chair shot you gave me a few moments ago…..Forgive and forget.
Taylor: Chair shot?
Knight: Yes, our opponents tonight have taught me a thing or two about the power of forgiveness.
And speaking of opponents, that’s finally who shows up. “Monster” beats through the speakers while Aaron Harrison and Lukas Montgomery cut through the curtains.
Dollar: Blackist have already had a wild night thus far…
Greyson: And it’s about to get even more…
Dollar:…Cray-cray?
Greyson: I was actually going to say, insane…
Dollar: Damn.
After seeing the attempted manslaughter of Spencer Klein, it’s understandable if Harrison and Montgomery are a little more amped up than normal. Taylor whips around to observe the two men who crave blood…refusing to be the one who satisfies their hunger. Her knuckles tighten after tossing her title to the outside of the ring, and once her full focus is upon the two men headed down the ramp, Knight springs into action.
He steps in behind Taylor, grabs her arms and heaves her up before dumping her on top of her skull via the Monarchy Rules.
Dollar: WAAAAIT!
Sparkles: Must you orgasm over every single little thing?
Little things don’t create so much consequence, which is exactly what Lucas’ ATTEMPTED Monarchy Rules does. Wait, did that just say, “ATTEMPTED?” It DID.
Taylor manages to back flip over the shoulders of Knight and land on her feet as opposed to on her head. She then leaves said feet in order to fly right into the back of Lucas’ head with the TKO.
Dollar: But Taylor gets out of it and now she’s going for the TKO!
That she did, she went for it….Wait…did that just say, “WENT FOR?” YUP.
Knight turns into the lunging knee just in time to avoid. Chase flies past him and lands on her feet before staggering forward into the ropes. Both Knight and Taylor then turn on one another, fists cocked back and ready to be swung.
Dollar: And now a standoff between these two, who are obviously drinking the Silas Mason coolaide.
Greyson: I guess Taylor believes Lucas attacked Kelcey earlier tonight, and Knight believes Chase hit him in the spine with that chair in retaliation.
The two continue to stare one another down, but are about to do far worse than that….if the Blacklist were willing to give them that opportunity….which they aren’t. Montgomery spins Taylor around and scoops her up across his chest. At the same time, Lucas is turned and caught around the neck and thigh. Montgomery drops back…Harrison drops back…Montgomery connects with the fallway slam….Harrison connects with a tbone suplex.
Dollar: Blacklist taking full advantage of the hostilities between Chase and Knight.
Sparkles: They’d have to be stupid not to.
Montgomery grabs Taylor by the wrist, dragging her up to her feet and then whipping the World Champion into a devastating thrust kick by Harrison, dropping the Champion to her back. Shortly thereafter, Aaron goes after Lucas, pulling him along to his feet and then whipping him into a running big boot delivered by Montgomery.
Silas would bury his face in his hat if he wasn’t already doing so to hide his grin over the hostile flare-up between Chase and Knight to commence this confrontation.
Knight’s face is also covered by both of his palms as he goes rolling across the ring and spilling under the ropes. He will not be of no consequence to Taylor, be it as her partner, or as her rival. She is all on her own, evidenced as she fights to her feet only to be caught from behind with a forearm to the upper back from Harrison. A blow that sends her staggering along into the waiting hands of Harrison, who manages to scoop her up and slam her down across the canvas.
He just as quickly sits her back up and traps both arms behind her back, applying a double chickenwing….One that leaves her face exposed to the repeated closed fists now being delivered by Montgomery.
Dollar: Dammit ref, get one of the Blacklist out of there already.
Greyson: That’s Stuart Wright your yelling at, Johnny, you know he has a tendency to let things just go.
Dollar: In other words, he’s as corrupt as William ‘Boss’ Tweed.
Sparkles: Huh?
Dollar: Ya’ know, ‘Boss’ Tweed, of Tammany Hall, prolific 1850’s politician.
Sparkles: Dude, unless it’s a pop culture reference regarding Transformers, or Lindsey Lohan’s vagina, no one is going to get what you’re rambling about.
Stuart continues to let it go….throwing rules aside so the Blacklist can put the beat-down on Taylor…well….that’s only half correct. Because she is beaten, but not kept down. Montgomery steps in for a right hand only to have his forearm kicked away by Taylor, who somehow manages to bridge her way up to her feet. She is still trapped in the hold of Harrison, who pins her arms behind her back, but then Chase ends up behind Aaron’s back.
Lukas rushes in to regain control for the Blacklist only to have Taylor lift her boots into the air, wedge then to Montgomery’s chest, then push off. She not only knocks Montgomery back, but manages to flip up and over Harrison’s shoulder, landing directly behind him. She then wedges her hands to Aaron’s back and shoves him towards Montgomery, the two men meeting minds in the middle of the ring.
Harrison’s skull cracks off of his own partner and sends him staggering back towards Taylor, who leaves her feet and connects with the back stabber!
She then rolls to her feet and stands up just as Montgomery comes barreling back in only to catch him with the Tailor-Made. She leaps into the air, catches Lukas around the neck and plants his face hard into the canvas with the leaping reverse STO.
Dollar: How does she do it?
Sparkles: I’m guessing a push up bra.
Dollar: That’s NOT what I was…never-mind…This is amazing from Taylor nevertheless.
Chase rushes to her feet and slaps her knee, about to lunge into the TKO on a recovering Harrison. And she does leave her feet, but only because she’s bee heaved into the air from behind and being dropped on the back of her head via the Monarchy Rules.
Dollar: Nooo…Knight just…he just laid out Taylor.
Greyson: It’s just as we speculated Johnny, these two just are not capable of working together.
Dollar: Not after all of Silas Word’s manipulation tactics.
Said manipulation now extends to the physical variety, as Silas swoops in and aids Taylor up to her feet at ringside. Her body is nothing but puddy in his hands, much like her mind.
Silas: I told ya Doll-Baby, ya couldn’t trust him…Now let’s leave da carrion to feast on their meal.
Silas drapes Taylor’s arm over his shoulder and begins to lead her towards the backstage area. Kelcey Wallace rushes out and lends aid, stepping under the other arm and holding her up as she and Mason collectively help Taylor abandon the match, and abandon Knight.
Dollar: So now Silas is taking Taylor away from the ring? Was this in a roundabout way all to his liking? Was he planning on getting Taylor to abandon Lucas all along and leave him to the mercy of the Blacklist?
Greyson: It’s all starting to make a bit more sense now.
Though he would rather Taylor be leaving of her own accord, and before she could suffer the Monarchy Rules, Silas still enjoys how this worked out….He gets Taylor away from the ring before any significant damage could be inflicted by the Blacklist, and now Knight has dug himself into a grave in more ways than one. He’s made an enemy of Chase, and is left to fend off the Blacklist all on his own.
In spite of the 2 on 1 advantage, Knight manages to still maintain his advantage. He rushes across the ring, slips through the ropes to the apron then scales to the top rope as he watches both opponents struggle to their feet. Montgomery is the first up, making him the target….
Knight soars through the air and connects with the Pancake Press, slamming Lukas’ face into the ring by way of a knee to the back of his skull. Lukas pops up to his own knees after the move is delivered by Knight, who rolls forward across the canvas to his feet then rushes across them into the ropes. He ricochets off of them and comes back in for the second half of his maneuver.
But Harrison suddenly rushes in and attempts to cut Lucas off before he can launch his boot into his namesake’s face.
The boot isn’t the only thing avoided, so is the lariat.
Knight ducks his adversary’s arm, stepping around behind Aaron and trapping his neck, bending it back and into position for the UKOD.
Dollar: Knight’s going for that spinning cutter.
Greyson: He’s surprisingly holding his own.
Dollar: And without the use of a push-up bra.
Knight is just about to hit the move only to be dragged back off of the inverted face lock and into an octopus stretch by Montgomery.
The Blacklist member wraps up Knight, and locks a leg around the back of his head and neck for greater leverage.
Dollar: A standing Octopus Stretch applied by Montgomery, this has got to be killing the body of Knight.
Sparkles: I guess this is the point in the match when Knight begins to be systematically shut down.
Harrison takes advantage of Knight’s trapped predicament, stepping n and throwing a right hand across Lucas’ cheek, followed by another and another. Each blow is debilitating Knight in conjunction with the tension applied on the hold by Montgomery.
Though everyone should be fixated on the plight of Knight, instead many eyes drift towards the ramp, where Taylor is pushing away from Silas and Kelcey. They both try to stop her but are unsuccessful, forced to watch instead as Taylor goes staggering down the ramp towards the ring.
Dollar: Chase is actually fighting her way back to the ring.
Sparkles: Bitch can barely even stand after the Monarchy Rules.
The hold and the slaps being delivered by the Blacklist do not demoralize Lucas, they inspire him.
This is demonstrated as Harrison steps back and moves in for the thrust kick on the trapped skull. Right before the boot cracks him in the face, Knight twists his body enough so that Montgomery’s leg gets cracked with the kick instead. This blow to the knee forces Montgomery to break the hold and fall unto his spine. Knight then turns, grabs the Blacklist member’s elevated and injured legs and drops back, catapulting Montgomery right into Harrison. Both men crack into one another skull first, with Lukas falling back into a sunset flip.
But Knight doesn’t go for the roll up pin, he stands up, steps through Montgomery’s legs and turns him over into the sharpshooter…the Knight Lock applied.
Knight: This is for my sister you son of a bitch…
Obviously Knight hasn’t forgotten what Montgomery did to Yvonne several weeks ago and looks to avenge his sister by way of getting Lukas to tap to Ivy’s finishing hold. Montgomery may very well do just that….if not for the TKO that breaks the hold by breaking Knight’s skull. Taylor enters the ring, flies across it and exacts vengeance for the Monarchy Rules.
Dollar: TKO ON KNIGHT!
Greyson: And these two are supposed to be partners?
Supposed to be, yes.
In actuality, no.
The TKO has sent Knight spiraling down to the canvas, landing beside the very knee that just decimated him.
Silas: Alright already, ya made ya point….get on outta dat ring and leave that bastard to the Blacklist’s mercy.
Before Taylor can even recognize the demands being made by Silas from outside of the ring, she finds herself dragged down to the center of the squared circle, Harrison applying the fujiwara arm bar….one that is quickly transitioned into the crippler crossface.
Dollar: Crossface locked in on Taylor…and after taking the Monarchy Rules, she might not have anything left to get out of this.
The submission continues to be exerted with such force that it threatens to snap Taylor’s neck, and rip her arm clean from its socket.
Stuart Wright, clueless in regards to who the legal combatant is supposed to be, stoops in position to see rather Taylor passes out or taps out. Neither of which she is about to do, refusing to ever again taste defeat at the hands of the Blacklist, a benevolent force that has haunted her every waking moment.
She eventually gets up unto her most potent weapon, her knees. She then slips her hand between those interlocked around her jaw and begins to forcefully pry apart Harrison’s clutches. She finally pulls down and pulls down hard on the hands of her rival, forcing the crossface to be broken…but actually opening the door for greater calamity.
Harrison ducks into a forward roll across the canvas and unto his feet before turning and catching Taylor’s arms, heaving her up from her knees and into position for the Hybrid Theory.
Dollar: What a transition.
Greyson: Into a move that could very well end the World Heavyweight Champion.
Legs desperately kick as Taylor tries to shift her weight and escape another hard slam unto her cranium. At last she manages to do just that, but instead of falling back, she sits up, countering by wrapping her legs around Aaron’s neck and then sitting on his shoulders. She begins to subject his face repeatedly to right hands, trying to counter into a hurricarana, but once again exposing herself to even greater than greater calamity.
Montgomery rushes in behind Taylor, leaps into the air, wedges his knees to Chase’s spine and then drags her down into a backstabber at the same time that Aaron delivers a powerbomb.
Dollar: OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD what a dangerous combination!
Sparkles: And it’s got Taylor out, she’s done…Let me have what’s left of the body.
The elevated knees destroy Taylor’s back, and sends her mangled body flying back up to her feet right into Harrison’s clutches. He leaps into the air, catches her around the neck and snaps back into the leaping reverse STO.
Dollar: And Harrison adds even greater insult…
Greyson: Just pin her and be done with it.
Harrison pushes Taylor unto her spine so that he can make the cover.
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2
A cover that does not pay off in victory, because Chase manages to get her shoulder up and off the canvas.
Dollar: Taylor doing what she does best, defying the odds.
Sparkles: Super Chase continues to fly high.
If Taylor is super-woman, then the Blacklist is determined to be her kryptonite. Harrison gets to his feet, takes her by the hair and prepares to employ even more disgusting tactics. But Harrison is only disgusted by himself, because he dropped his guard long enough for Knight to rush in from behind, take him around the waist and drop back into a roll up.
He ends up seated on the back of Harrison’s thighs, folding him up beneath him.
The crowd lunges closer to the barricade, watching as Knight may have just snuck in the backdoor to pick up the win for his team.
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2
Not going to be that easy to vanquish the Blacklist….Harrison kicks out and launches Lucas out of the pin and into the clutches of Montgomery.
Lukas steps in front of Knight and catches his stooped forward body staggering in, locking arms around his waist, then heaving him up unto his shoulders. Montgomery is setting for the over the shoulder back-breaker, but Knight isn’t about to let him connect.
He desperately kicks his feet until he manages to shift weight and slide down off of Lukas’ shoulder, landing behind his back.
Knight then turns around just as Montgomery does the same, catching the vulture to his ribs with a boot before hooking his arms. Lucas is going for the Knight-Driver. But what he goes for and what he connects with, are two entirely different things. Because the only part of him that connects, is his face with Harrison’s boot. The step up enzugari connects, leaving Lucas bobbing from side to side, but only for a moment.
Montgomery stands up and in the process hoists the man who was still straddling the back of his neck into the air. Lukas then rushes forward and delivers the White Noise on Knight, resulting in a harrowing, piercing roar from the fans.
Dollar: And the Blacklist continues to hit those high impact moves….moves the human body was not designed to take.
Montgomery rolls of the way shortly after delivering the over the shoulder piledriver, allowing Harrison an opportunistic chance to slide into the cover. He hooks both of Knight’s legs, ensuring no possibility of escape.
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2
But one can never fully ensure that they’ve bested Knight, evident as he kicks out to a raucous response form the fans.
Greyson: You keep talking about how amazing Taylor Chase’s effort is, but how about Lucas Knight’s?
Dollar: You have to give this man respect after kicking out of sequences just like that.
Harrison is frustrated, so frustrated he’s about to go back to the same well twice, until all the water within has been milked dry. He stands up and grabs Lucas around the neck, dragging his head under his seat, and then heaving him up into the powerbomb. Montgomery then comes rushing in to hit the backstabber, lunging into the air and directing his knees towards Knight’s spine.
The Blacklist member connects, but it’s his own body connecting with the canvas as Taylor lunges into the air behind the flying Lukas and catches him with a reverse neckbreaker.
Montgomery is dragged down out of the air with his skull smashing the ring.
Dollar: I don’t know if Taylor realizes it, but she just saved Knight.
Greyson: But put the hurting on the Blacklist too.
Speaking of hurting, Knight now manages to slip up and over the head of Harrison, landing with the grace of a cat behind his opponents back. Aaron spins around just as Knight does the same, only Lucas is spinning around with his boot, driving it directly into his adversary’s ribcage.
All the air is knocked from Harrison’s lungs, while his ribs are potentially fractured as well. But the primary source of pain becomes his head, which he is dumped directly on top of via the Knight-Driver.
Dollar: Lucas with the Knight-Driver finally connecting!
Sparkles: Pin him Knight, pin that son of a bitch who had me attacked by 87 Blacklist ninjas…and the Suicide Squad too.
Knight, agonized muscles and antagonized mind, crawls into the cover.
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2
Don’t think so….Harrison kicks out.
Dollar: Now might be the time to mention the amazing performance of the Blacklist….
Sparkles: No…let’s not.
Harrison is out, but Knight isn’t fairing too much better. He just sits there on the canvas unable to do much to follow up. Taylor on the other hand has got her second wind, evident as she approaches the nearest turnbuckle, scales it and prepares to launch herself off into a moonsault onto Montgomery. She now goes fipping back but also twisting in mid-air with a corkscrew moonsault splash right across the KNEES! Montgomery gets them up and directly into Taylor’s ribcage as she comes crashing down directly into them.
Dollar: Taylor tried to bust out something new and she might want to consider never doing it again.
Sparkles: Botch-tastic.
As Taylor rolls across the ring holding her ribs, Knight comes rushing across it looking to inflict great punishment on Montgomery’s. He does just that by taking him around the neck and preparing to deliver the Hail Britannia. It connects with such traumatizing force that it actually knocks Montgomery back up to his feet and sends him staggering through the ropes, falling through them to the outside mats.
Knight, exhaustion setting in and injuries crippling him, stands up and staggers into the ropes, leaning heavily upon them. The fact that Harrison is sitting up in near inhuman fashion, strikes Knight as an insult…an insult he will not suffer.
He steps in and takes Harrison around the neck, pulling him up from his seat and into position for the UKOD. He snaps around into the cutter only to have Harrison twist out of position at the last second and shove Knight directly into a recovering Taylor. The two bodies converge mere inches from the ropes, and the convergence is devastating for both athletes. Taylor goes spiraling through the ropes and Knight goes staggering back into Harrisons waiting arms. He catches Lucas’ spine against his shoulder and then heaves him up only to have Knight float over, and behind his back and shove Harrison forward into the cables.
Aaron bounces off and prepares to charge into the Union Jack only to have Montgomery catch his partner by the ankle once Aaron hits the ropes. He pulls Harrison out of the ring before he could bounce off the cables and be subjected to the lethal European Uppercut.
Dollar: Montgomery saving his partner.
Greyson: Those two are closer than family.
Sparkles: Yeah, the Manson family.
Predictably Knight is flustered but not thrown off his game, not until he turns and finds his ribs cracked by a steel chair swung by Mika Kozlov.
Dollar: And there’s the last piece of this twisted family.
Greyson: Mika Kozlov….I know her…She scares me, Sparkles.
Sparkles: Yeah, I have a hard time getting erect when I see her anymore.
Kelcey is currently distracting the referee, but no force on earth can compel Silas to look away from the ring….
Silas: Time for plan B.
Just after the chair has cracked off of Knight’s ribs, Taylor comes sliding back into the ring. She immediately cuts a path towards Mika, only to stop cold in her tracks when a chair is tossed not at her, but to her. Kozlov turns over the steel and then turns to the outside, diving through the ropes.
Dollar: What is Mika thinking? She just threw a chair to her ‘sister.’
Greyson: Her adoptive sister, right?
Dollar: Indeed.
Taylor looks down at the chair in her hands, then up into the face of Mika, who wears a grotesque smirk. Mika’s grin, and Taylor’s eyes, then turn towards Silas.
Silas: Ya know what ta do Tay. Ya know what it’ll take to get ya respect.
Again eyes avert to the chair in Chase’s clutches.
Silas: NOW DO IT!
The trembling Taylor spins around and slams the chair with all her strength over Knight’s upper back.
Greyson: Taylor….why?
Dollar: She finally just….just SNAPPED!
The chair is tossed aside at this point while Taylor leaves the ring and leaves Knight to suffer.
Dollar: And now Taylor is just walking out on Knight.
Taylor, Silas and Kelcey move up the ramp with Mason only hesitating for half a second to turn around and shout towards Knight
Silas: Ya need to learn sum respect boy….Betcha won’t be jokin behind Doll-Baby’s back again.
There are no jokes being told, as this is not a feel good moment, especially for Knight.
Dollar: Lukas completely and utterly abandoned by Taylor.
Greyson: And there was no mistaking her chair shot moments ago.
Knight is left all on his own, desperately trying to get up when he’s suddenly taken by the wrist, pulled up to his feet and then dragged into a lariat to the throat by Harrison that dumps him to the canvas.
Mika smiles wider than ever, HIGHLY amused that her collaboration with a certain Spencer Klein this evening has paid off in spades.
The Blacklist is closing in on a major victory over Knight while someone else closes in on the ring, that someone being Andre Jordan.
The Evolution Champion makes his entrance through the very curtains Silas World just used to exit. With the championship hanging from his shoulder, the dapper Jordan stops on the stage, getting the best seat in the house to observe the plight of his opponent in Nottingham.
Dollar: We have yet another interested spectator joining us to watch this action.
Sparkles: This is like McDonald’s to Jordan, he’s lovin it.
Andre SHOULD love to see Knight getting the beatdown, but instead he looks somewhat ‘conflicted.’ He watches as Montgomery slides into the ring and the Blacklist prepare to employ their two on one advantage. Knight is taken by the wrist, led up to his feet by Harrison and whipped towards the big boot by Montgomery. A big boot that travels right past Knight’s skull.
To the amazement of the audience, Knight manages to miss the boot, slide under Montgomery and wait behind him, Lukas whips around and rushes directly into Knight’s hands, being caught and thrown into the air. Montgomery comes crashing down right into the European Uppercut.
Dollar: Union Jack drops Montgomery.
Before Knight can collect himself after delivering the move, he finds Harrison rushing to deliver a deadly blow. Lucas ducks an attempted lariat, causing Harrison’s momentum to carry him into the ropes. He ricochets off and comes back in towards Knight, who catches Aaron to the ribs, throws him into the air and delivers ANOTHER Union Jack!
Dollar: And he nailed Harrison with it too….Go for the pin Knight, go for the pin.
That’s just what an ailing Knight is about to do….or at least he would if the back of his skull wasn’t being demolished via the Quieter.
Dollar: Montgomery!
Sparkles: He just knocked that bitch OUT!
Oh yes….Knight is down and the fans are pleading with him to get back up. He’s able to do little more than blink his eyes at the moment, and even that hurts. Montgomery staggers around after delivering the roaring elbow, finding it difficult to collect his faculties, physically and mentally. He finally shakes off the effects of the Union Jack in order to grab Knight around the neck, leading him over to his knees. He pulls Knight’s head under his seat, takes him around the waist and prepares to deliver a powerbomb….but not just any powerbomb. Official Wright is out of position, checking on Harrison and having no clue the career shortening move that Lukas is setting up for.
Montgomery: You feel guilty for what happened to your sister a few weeks ago? Maybe you need to feel her pain.
Obviously Montgomery is about to drop Knight right on the back of his neck with this powerbomb, in the exact same fashion he did Yvonne to debilitate her. He prepares to unleash another crippling powerbomb only to have Knight wedge his hands to Montgomery’s stomach and shove him back.
Lukas twists out of the powerbomb and into the ropes….no….not the ropes….the foot.
Out of nowhere Danny Darko has bolted down the ramp and corkscrewed over the apron into the Darkolator, driving his shin directly into Montgomery’s face.
Dollar: It’s Darko!
Sparkles: Actually it’s the boot connected to Darko…
Dollar: And it just made a hell of a splash on Montgomery’s face.
The roundhouse blasts Lukas between the eyes…just a modicum of revenge for the attack from the Blacklist earlier tonight. This kick sends Montgomery staggering back right into the waiting arms of Knight, who manages to stand, catch his opponent and drive him into the canvas via the Monarchy Rules.
Dollar: And the Darkolator knocks Montgomery right back into the Monarchy Rules!
Sparkles: If Knight is able to pull this off I’ll shit an acorn.
That’s just what Knight is about to do after devastating Montgomery with his finishing maneuver. Darko doesn’t linger behind, mostly because Mika is hot on his heels.
He leaps over the barricade for only a moment to turn back towards the ring and shout towards the Blacklist.
Darko: Guess I never will learn, huh?
He continues to run, having made his statement both verbally AND physically. Mika doesn’t stop at the barricade, she lunges over it, taking none too kindly to the disruption of the Blacklist’s plans.
Dollar: Darko lays out Montgomery in retaliation for that Blacklist assault earlier tonight, and in the process he might have just given Knight the win.
Greyson: But it appears Mika may make him pay for that.
Darko and Kozlov vanish into the crowd, while inside of the ring a traumatized Knight crawls over an equally as traumatized Montgomery, hooking his leg.
Dollar: I don’t know how….I don’t know he managed to pull this off.
Wright gets in position, and the fans assume a position all their own, leaping to their feet and counting along.
1
2
3
The hand is coming down to the canvas for the third and definitive slap only to have that hand caught, caught in the clutches of Harrison.
Dollar: Damn…Knight was so close but Harrison stopping the count.
The official tries to pry his wrist free from Harrison’s clutches, and does eventually rip his wrist free.
Wright: Don’t you touch me…or God help me I’ll make sure I’m the last referee you ever put your hands on…
Aaron doesn’t touch Wright with a hand, he stabs him right between the eyes with the fork fished out of his pocket.
Sparkles: WHOA!
Dollar: Harrison just stabbed Wright in the face with that fork…God I’ve been waiting so long for someone to do that.
Greyson: I feel your pain, Wright.
The official has been busted open, dropping to the canvas and palming the blood pooling across his brow. In spite of being in a dazed, incoherent state, Wright raises his hand, signaling for the bell.
Dollar: Not surprised, Wright finally disqualifying someone, but only after HE was bludgeoned by the fork in Harrison’s hand.
Sparkles; YAY….The Blacklist loses.
Greyson: I don’t think losses really matter to them, Sparkles.
The bent prongs in the fork find their way to the canvas beside the bloodied Wright. The chiming bell in the background has no bearing on the Blacklist’s actions, Harrison stepping over the small of a recovering Knight’s back, pulling up on his chin and beginning to repeatedly drive his fist into Lukas’ face.
Dollar: The Blacklist may have been defeated in this tag match….
Sparkles: By DQ the smarmy little bastards.
Dollar:….but they are still working over Knight post match.
Crossface forearms drill Knight to both sides of his face, cracking his teeth and his cheek bones. A barely conscious Montgomery joins in on the assault, stomping Lucas to the chest and the forehead. The two on one beating continues under the eyes of hundreds of fans in the stands, millions of fans watching around the world, and one wrestler planted on the ramp, that wrestler being Andre.
The two on one beating continues with Andre just standing there, taking it all in, observing the brutality unleashed on one of his most reviled adversary’s. But for some reason Andre just can’t bring himself to enjoy this….he isn’t getting off on the sight of Knight being pummeled by the Blacklist….There’s just something wrong….WRONG about all of this….and Dre is about to do what’s right.
To the astonishment of the everyone viewing, be it in the stands or from the comfort of home, Dre slides into the ring and goes after the Blacklist.
Dollar: WHAAAA?
Greyson: Looks like Dre is coming to the aid of Knight…but why? I thought these two hated each other.
Dollar: But Andre is a GOOD man….unlike what Knight masquerades himself to be.
Fists fly into the faces of Harrison and Montgomery, fists thrown by Andre, who seems to be possessed. His body has been taken over by a compulsion to do the ‘good’ thing. Both Blacklist members stumble back as this onslaught continues. And it’s an onslaught that is only shut down when a chop block is delivered to the back of Knight’s knee by Harrison.
Andre drops to his elbows and knees while Montgomery begins to blast him to the face with right hands.
Dollar: But the Blacklist’s numbers too great for even Andre Jordan to overcome.
Just as the tide begins to turn back in the Blacklist’s favor, Harrison snatching up a bloodied fork, the sorrowful fans undergo a radical change in attitude…..thanks in no small part to the arrival of Gavin Taylor. Gavin goes rushing down the ramp to an explosive roar, sliding into the ring at this point and then going directly after the Blacklist.
Dollar: And now it’s Gavin’s turn for some retribution on the Blacklist.
Sparkles: Good, because Greyson and I were just about to jump in there.
Before either Harrison or Montgomery can react, their being nailed with lethal forearms to the face by a vengeful Gavin. He’s got both men on the rocks…but now it feels like he’s the one being stoned, because he turns right into a kick well south of the belt, delivered directly to the gonads by Montgomery.
Dollar: Is there any force, hell, earth or heaven that can stop the Blacklist and their campaign of carnage.
Apparently there is. Because while Montgomery and Harrison are preoccupied with dropping Gavin to the canvas and subjecting him to forearm strikes over the back, Andre is preoccupied with something else, the steel chair he just received from ringside. Lukas doesn’t realize the chair has founds its way into Andre’s hands before its being swung right into his kidneys.
Dollar; Dre with the chair…the chair right into Montgomery’s back!
Lukas goes spilling into the ropes, turning just as Dre steps in and blasts him over the skull with the chair, delivering the blow with such force that it knocks Montgomery to the outside and knocks him out cold.
While Jordan uses one weapon to his advantage, Aaron employs another…He pulls back the fork and waits for Dre to turn around….But it’s Aaron’s who is spun, spun right into a short arm version of the Real Men Use Lariats.
Dollar: This is truly unreal…in what world would you ever expect Gavin and Andre to be working together?
And yet they’re doing just that….for now.
Dre throws the chair out of the ring and unto the body of Montgomery before he backs to the center of the ring where Knight is still kneeling on the canvas.
Dre: If anybody is gonna beat you, it’s gonna be me.
In spite of being in absolutely horrible shape, Knight still manages to grin.
That smile leaves his face when he watches Gavin march up behind Andre and spin him around. Almost immediately Taylor and Jordan begin to bicker with one another….
Dollar; This alliance could only last for so lo….HEY!
Knight’s lips turn down, but his arm launches up…up and into the testicles of Jordan.
Dollar: Low-blow!
Sparkles: Guess that’s gratitude for ya.
The air has instantly been deflated from the lungs of the fans…and the stability has been taken out of Jordan’s body…by both the low bow, and the big boot delivered by Gavin to the cheek.
Sparkles: Knew that this couldn’t last…
Dollar: Oh yeah, cause Chase Global has absolutely no morals whatsoever.
Knight crawls into the ropes that he employs to reach his feet, and speaking of feet, Gavin is presently putting his own into the body of a traumatized Jordan.
Gavin: You told have to worry about Lucas, you don’t have to worry about the Blacklist….you have to worry about me!
Gavin backs up and swings his arm out to his side, presumably setting up for the Real Men Use Lariats….a move that could potentially decapitate the Evolution Champion.
Dollar: Gavin is gonna send a message to Andre…he won’t let Jordan forget that he’s coming after that Evolution Championship.
Jordan is finally there, on his feet and in the crosshairs of Gavin, who is about to close the gap between them in order inflict serious damage on the larynx. And just before that move can materialize, Kyle Black blasts Jordan to the upper back with a forearm, knocking the Evolution Champion to the canvas.
Dollar: Where did Kyle just come from?
Sparkles: I don’t know, but I can imagine where Gavin is about to tell him where to go.
Gavin stops just shy of Jordan, watching him fall to the canvas where he’s subjected to repeated forearms by Black.
Chase: Do you see, Gavin…
Taylor’s attention shifts to Adam Chase standing on the apron.
Chase: Chase Global will ALWAYS be there for you.
Even when he doesn’t want them to be. Gavin makes his displeasure clear when he grabs Kyle by the shirt and drags him off of the laid out Jordan.
Kyle: Hands off!
Instinctively Black pulls his attire out of Gavin’s hands then steps up into his face. The shit eating grin on Chase’s face instantly vanishes.
Chase: No…no….no!
Adam scrambles into the ring and in between his two clients.
Chase: Guys, come on now, this hostility isn’t dong either of you any favors. It’s time for the two of you to do what’s right…right for Chase Global.
Neither Gavin nor Kyle are listening to Adam, too overwhelmed with feelings of mutual bitterness.
Chase: Now let’s shake hands and put this behind us. Let’s move on and make this the single greatest faction in the history of professional wrestling.
The persistence of their agent seems to be working.
Chase: If you two can get back on the same page, I promise you we will all….
Gavin: You promise?
The hand that was raising to shake Kyle’s instantly falls back to Gavin’s side. There is a note of bitterness in Taylor’s tone. But there is nothing subtle about the animosity behind the dropkick delivered by Jordan to the upper back of Black, launching him right into Gavin. The two collide with one another and hit the canvas, where they immediately begin to exchange rights, lefts, forearms and kicks.
Dollar: Chase Global imploding.
And there’s nothing that Adam can do about it, but watch, dropped jaw and eyes wide.
Chase: Stop this…STOP THIS! Somebody get me a hose….A hose dammit!
Not even blasting the two with cold water is going to break the up. Adam realizes this, hence why he directs his spiteful words towards Jordan, the man who put this all into motion.
Chase: This is all your fault, if you hadn’t stolen my client’s title, NONE of this would have happened!
Adam should be less concerned with his clients, and more worried about his own personal well being. It only takes one step by Jordan towards Adam, before Knight intervenes. He steps in and lightly shoves Adam behind his back, Knight turning himself into a makeshift shield. Now we have another stare-down between Knight and the man he’ll face live from Nottingham, England.
Dollar: Jordan looked like he was getting froggy, but Knight keeping him from jumping….jumping Adam Chase.
Instead of picking up where they left off Knight backs his agent towards the ropes, both men passing through them to the apron. The rope is turned into a barrier between Andre and Lucas.
Knight: I’ll be seeing you next week.
Andre: Count on it.
As this stare-down continues, the beat-down between Kyle and Gavin wages on, the two continuing to roll around on the canvas throwing fists and kicks into one another’s bodies.
Orlando: Where are you, Spencer….Come on out.
Absolutely no one stands between Orlando and his target….stagehands, referees, EMTs, everyone clearing from the path of the Icon. He carries along a warped kendo-stick…one that found its way into Spencer’s body, and will do so again should their paths once again cross.
Orlando: You promised a solution to our problems….But I don’t think you’ve solved a damn thing thus far….
Orlando is still hunting down Spencer, but coming no closer to discovering his whereabouts.
Orlando: Come on Spencer, I just want to have a heart to heart is all…
Kloe: Orlando!
A bit of surprise emanates from the Icon when he turns to find the New-Age General Manager standing before him. She looks even more emotional than he does, sweat on her brow and panic in her eyes.
Orlando: What….what are you doing here?
Kloe: Orlando, we’ve got to talk….
Orlando: I’m busy.
Kloe: I can tell.
She looks down at the kendo-stick.
Kloe: But Spencer, the Blacklist, they aren’t where you’re focus needs to be.
Orlando: Oh?
Kloe: I had a meeting with Jacob Laymon on New-Age,, and you have to know what he and the Sinistry have planned for tonight. And you HAVE to do something to stop it.
CATCH THE REPLAY ON PAY-PER-VIEW
IWC WORLD-WIDE
A number of European landmarks flash across the screen….be it Big Ben, Old Market Square…a statue of Robin Hood…Trent Bridge and the like. Now clips from a press conference held in England are shown, with various IWC combatants taking the dais and addressing an excited crowd.
Kathryn Pearson: England, are you ready?
Kathryn speaks her words seductively into the microphone, wearing a smile. We then cut to several European fans in attendance for this press conference wearing more than smiles, also sporting there best IWC apparel.
Fan: I have been waiting all year for this.
Utters one such spectator who has busted out a P Clarence Whitman III mustache and affixed it to his upper lip.
Simon Cagero: Are all you British-Fuckers ready for some chaos in the UK?
Cagero is the next to hang over the podium, talking into the microphone and addressing the crazed crowd.
Clips of Beetham Tower….clips of the screeching onlookers holding up signs showing their support for Lucas Knight…the man who presently sashays to the podium dressed in a lavish tuxedo.
Knight: I can’t tell you how good it shall feel to finally be home. To compete in front of people of class.
Knight takes a selfie with some fans sporting t-shirts that show their support for Lucas. Actually, with ONLY the fans who are wearing shirts that aggrandize Knight.
Orlando: Beginning on May 5th, the IWC will officially begin its first ever European Tour, stopping in Manchester.
Many of the familiar sights attributed to Manchester, England are shown.
Orlando:…Nottingham…
Fans from Manchester England, sporting “I’m a GOOD Person” t-shirts, or Black Crusade jerseys, are captured by the camera.
Orlando: And Birmingham.
P Clarence Whitman III poses for a photograph with his arms draped over the shoulders of two mustachioed fans. Abigail Lindsey is seen eating at a Birmingham bistro, holding up some traditional British cuisine for photographers to see.
Orlando: And it will all culminate to our first pay-per-view on foreign soil….Extreme Fury.
The 02 arena is shown from the exterior and the interior, where it’s filled to the brim with screeching fans.
Taylor Chase: It’s about time the IWC took the world by storm…
World Champion Taylor Chase stands on the stage, holding up the championship and captivating every fan in attendance at this press conference.
IWC’S UNITED KINGDOM KARNAGE TOUR BEGINS….NEXT WEEK
A match graphic flashes across the screen which features Robert on one side and Ba’al on the other. A Union Jack symbol is fixated behind their backs.
Dollar: And the carnage begins in Manchester England next week on NewAge, where we will see a HUGE main event where Robert and Ba’al collide.
Sparkles: It’s only huge because Robert’s belly is so big it pulls smaller wrestlers into this gravitational field.
Dollar: And then we move to Nottingham, where we have ANOTHER earth moving match scheduled.
Andre Jordan and Lucas Knight appear on opposite sides of the screen.
Greyson: And the events of just moments ago have made this match between Andre Jordan and Lucas Knight even more personal.
Dollar: United Kingdom here we come.
Sparkles: Too bad I was banned from that country ages ago.
Greyson: It’s your own fault for taking too many liberties with the Royal Guards outside of Buckingham Palace.
Sparkles: You try to put one thing in their mouths and you…..
Dollar: Please say nothing else.
We don’t have to wait until England for carnage though. For the time for the execution is nigh. The curtains have parted, and through them steps not the group destined to destroy the IWC….but the group determined to give the IWC a stay of execution. P Clarence Whitman III is the first to make his way to the stage, followed by Katelyn Buehler, bandage over her forehead and dried blood on her face. Silence and Mr. Hush are closely tailing this duo, listening to Al fire them up in the process.
Dollar: It looks like the moment we’ve been dreading throughout the night is finally here boys…or boy and puppet.
Sparkles: Why can’t Sparkles have a protective bubble built around him for chaotic moments like these?
Dollar: You know what….good point….I think it’s time for the two…THREE of us to get out of here before this thing explodes.
Greyson: I won’t argue with that.
Headsets are removed and tossed onto the surface of the announce table as Greyson, Sparkles, and Dollar wisely vacate the ringside area. They know all too well that there will be violence, there will be blood, there will be anarchy….and absolutely no one will be safe.
This foreboding sense of impending chaos is exacerbated by the arrival of Legion and Robert. The two powerhouses standing side by side as they descend down the ramp. Leeland Gaunt is right there alongside these two monsters, feeding their minds a motivational feast.
The crowd is overwhelmed by the visual of these seven unique personalities making their way into the ring and preparing themselves for what may just be the most violent battle any of them, separately, or collectively have endured.
Mr. Gaunt: Well now. I believe we have reached the appointed hour, have we not?
Mr. Gaunt’s words are directed towards the entry way.
Mr. Gaunt: Some form of capital punishment has been nauseatingly hyped throughout the entirety of this night, so please Sinistry, cease with the melodramatics, dispense with the theatrics, make your way to the ring and let us get this clusterfuck brawl over with shall we?
Clarence, Buehler, Robert and the remainder of the Black Crusade are ready for anything….ANYTHING that is about to happen next….Their sleeves are hiked up and their fists are clinched….making all of the preparations for the most epic of wars.
The same can be said for the figures presently making their way to the stage. This time instead of backing away from the ring, they approach it. Jonathan Collins, Rachel Frost, Rachel Foxx, Jaina Frost, Executioner, Jacob Laymon, Desmond Drake, and the Prince of Sin himself, Ba’al, do not shy from their litany of enemies. The Sinistry pauses on the ramp on the cusp of laying siege to the ring.
Ba’al: A cluster-what? If I’m not mistaken it appears the lot of you social misfits actually believe that the Sinistry is coming to that ring for some type of ‘war?’
The microphone held by the man at the epicenter of this group, is employed to reinforce Ba’al’s bewilderment.
Mr. Gaunt: Yes-yes, no more words, let’s truly give these fans the finality they’ve been promised.
Ba’al: My word, Mr. Gaunt, how can someone who condemns others for their latent idiocy, be so horribly misguided? We are not gathered here tonight for another mindless battle? For what form of finality will that provide? If we came to that ring and battled the likes of the Black Crusade and everyone manipulated by your insidious rhetoric, then it would no doubt lead to one outcome….escalation. No-no….there is only one way for this to end….for this execution to be completed. It will not be achieved by a battle for IWC’s soul….for that battle has already been lost….There is no redemption, there is no salvation, there is no force that could ever redeem the IWC. So why battle for something that is already a lost cause….
The microphone is bestowed upon the half-pint stood beside the NHB Champion.
Desmond: All of your challenges. All of your demands. All of your future ambitions. They are irrelevant. Because…
The microphone extends to Desmond’s side as a lady comes slithering to the stage, crawling over hands and knees towards the microphone. That lady being Susie Moore….Gone are her blond locks, replaced by long raven black hairs that hide her increasingly pale face. Her lips stop mere inches from the microphone dangled before her darkened lips.
Susie: After NewAge, the IWC….is….CLOSED.
STATIC
IWC 