Riot! 14

There have been several tremendous matches in the annals of IWC lore….but presently, the greatest battle is waged between a title belt and a smile.

It’s unclear what’s brighter, the toothy grin residing on Taylor Chase’s face, or the World Heavyweight Championship perched upon her shoulder.

Her mouth is stretched to its breaking point, and her shoulder is bogged down by fifteen pounds of gold as she sashays through a corridor. That joy-joy feeling is infectious, consuming even the commentators, who’s voices can be heard overlapping this footage.

Johnny Dollar: There she is Susie….Our World Champion is here.

Susie Moore: Did she bring me my pony?

Dollar: No, but she did bring along the very belt she worked so hard to retain at Invictus…

Susie: I’ve already lost interest then.

Dollar: Tonight our World Champion will be honored…as we hold a special celebration for Taylor Chase.

Susie: There better be piñatas!

Unfortunately there shall be no such piñatas…but chances are there will be numerous other items, or individuals to be more accurate, who receive a beating tonight. Hopefully, fingers crossed, Taylor Chase, the very woman who makes her way down the corridor, will not be amongst those victimized.

Dollar: Major title celebration as part of tonight’s blockbuster….

The image of Taylor Chase, toting her title along to the ring is suddenly distorted and Dollar’s hype is abruptly cut short. All have been replaced by the gothic ambient tune, and the image of a corroded church seated upon a hill. The decayed ruins of this structure have been overcome with vegetation, and the roof has completely caved in. This allows for the flames inside of the church to light the shadowy surroundings about the cathedral.

Voiceover: And there were man-devouring wars, and all horrors of fight . . . Phobos was there, and Deimos….with limbs all gore bespattered endlessly….

The flames enhance the image of a shadow cast upon the walls of the decayed structure….The silhouette of not one, but TWO individuals, standing together as if taking notice of the camera that encroaches.

THE MOVEMENT COMETH….
TONIGHT

Dollar: Invictus is live from the most famous arena in wrestling…Madison Square Garden.

Stills flash the screen capturing some of the more memorable moments and encounters at Invictus, all set to the tunes of ‘Born to Rise,’ the official theme song for the biggest pay-per-view of the year. These photos show the legends of the IWC standing shoulder to shoulder to shoulder on the stage….P Clarence Whitman III allowing a fan wearing a knock-off of his now famous mustache, to take a picture of the two with their IPhone….Abigail Lindsey standing on top of a car surrounded by throngs of celebrating fans….Rachel Foxx leans back in a chair once occupied by Desmond Drake…William Mason stands with his back turned to the camera, pointing to the message stitched into the back of his hoodie regarding the beginning of his Invictus streak….

Susie: This is cray-cray…

Amanda Blayze stands on the stage with two fiery Shaka symbols at her sides…..Brittany Lohan holds a flaming staff of bones while towering beside the band Breaking Benjamin….The Saviors ride into the building on a horse drawn chariot.

Dollar: These are moments that will transcend time.

A giant banner with the message ‘redemption’ is torn down the center by Katelyn Buehler

Hundreds of women in identical ratty sundresses and Silence masks are converged on the ramp, the stage, and the rafters. World Champion Taylor Chase-Cruze stands on the apron with a collection of fans holding up IPhones behind her back that when grouped together form a giant picture of her face.

Dollar: THIS….IS….INVICTUS!

Another dazzling display of pyrotechnics, flames shooting from the stage and igniting the passion of the fans. They hoop, they holla, they do all the wacky things expected of wrestling fans and it’s all in special recognition of the first post Invictus show. A show presently focused around the woman in the middle of the ring, Katelyn Buehler.

Dollar: Welcome to the first ‘Riot!’ since Invictus, and what a blockbuster show we have in store for you tonight.

Susie: Can’t we start the show with Kordy singing the National Anthem again?

Dollar: Good God NO!

Buehler goes to lift a microphone to her lips but finds her words drowned out by the roar of the crowd. ‘Redemption’ is chanted over and over again by the New Yorkers, giving Buehler cause for a pause.

Dollar: Instead of getting the worse rendition of the National Anthem ever….we’re starting off with Buehler..the woman who managed to somehow defeat Rachel Foxx at Invictus in one of the bloodiest matches I’ve ever called.

The wounds of Buehler’s battle with Rachel are still present, a bandage affixed to her forehead and several of her fingers wrapped in adhesive tape. Even with these injuries, she is still surging with excitement and capable of lifting the spirits of the fans.

Buehler: Thank you.

Fans: BUEHLER! BUEHLER! BUEHLER!

She is overcome with even more emotion.

Buehler: Thank you all sooooo much. You’re awesome. Much love.

The side of her fist hits her chest then extends above her head.

Buehler: Seriously, you people are the greatest. Without your support, I don’t think I would have made it this far….I probably would have thrown in the towel and walked away after my loss to Taylor Chase for the World Title. But you stuck with me, you believed in me, and that gave me belief in myself. You’re love inspires me to carry on, it gave me the strength to go out and pick up one of the biggest personal wins of my career at Invictus.

Fans: YOU ARE AWESOME! YOU ARE AWESOME!

A gigantic smile forms on her face.

Buehler: Okay then, just to reinforce how awesome I am, how about I go on and on about my victory over Rachel Foxx? Naaaaah….I don’t think so. It’s time to move on….it’s time to concentrate on what Foxx and the Sinistry have distracted me from….becoming the World Heavyweight Champ…..

Jonathan Collins: You? The World Heavyweight Champion? A pathetic notion if there ever was one.

Needless to say that Collins, a man instrumental in the wave of Sinistry’s destruction, will not be shown the same type of love lauded upon Buehler.

Collins: If you think that the Sinistry is going to allow you to degrade the prestige of the championship, then all the drugs you’ve consumed truly have killed what few brain-cells were left in your head.

In spite of her still aching hand, Buehler manages to clinch her fist, and prepare to drive it into the face of the naysayer. Her critic descends upon the ring, marching down the ramp and getting grief from the audience.

Collins: If you were allowed to become the World Champion, it would undermine everything that the Sinistry is working for. We will not allow a drug addled prostitute to be the figure head of this company….

Collins starts up the steps and onto the apron.

Collins: You will not make it to a World Title showdown, Buehler, because you will not make it past me….Right now.

No more words, all action. Collins slides through the ropes and goes straight after Buehler.

Dollar: I think we have an impromptu match here, Susie…Jonathan Collins standing up for the Sinistry movement, and going after Buehler.

Susie: Still would have preferred the show start with Kordy singing the National Anthem.

JONATHAN COLLINS VS. KATELYN BUEHLER

And the in ring portion of tonight’s telecast is already underway, with Collins sliding into the ring and immediately being subjected to knife edge chops and forearms to the jaw by Buehler.

Dollar: And Katelyn is all over Collins…the Sinistry bringing out a more aggressive side of Katelyn.

Chops and forearms, chops and forearms, chops and forearms wail upon Collins, who almost falls back over the ropes thanks to this onslaught. Katelyn then takes him by the arm and whips him off across the ring only to have Jonathan spin around, slap Buehler’s palm away from his wrist, and spin around into the ZERO Hour.

Dollar: He’s going for that spinning back fist already.

Susie: Buehler’s lips gonna be knocked off her face, and if they are, I claim them.

No lips going flying anywhere, cause Katelyn manages to baseball slide under the fist. Collins then turns into a full spin towards the kneeling Buehler and then subjects her face to a shining wizard. The Parallax Shock connects, knocking Katelyn out with Collins landing beside her.

Dollar: She avoided the ZERO Hour but not the Parallax Shock.

Susie: How do you know the name to all these moves?

Dollar: The ear-mic, Susie, the ear-mic.

Though Collins has Buehler laid out in a very advantageous position, he does not make the cover. Of course it wouldn’t matter if he attempted a pin in the first place, as there was no referee, up until now at least. Referee Wright leaps into the ring to officiate this confrontation. The bell is rung and the match is underway in a legal capacity. Even still Jonathan doesn’t go for the pin, he drags Katelyn along to her knees and applies a modified abdominal stretch with a neck cravat cinched in.

Susie: And now he’s got Katey-Boo trapped.

Dollar: After everything Katelyn went through at Invictus, including MULTIPLE shots from a gavel, she’s in no kind of shape to withstand holds like these.

The crowd, that has been so instrumental in inspiring Buehler in the past, once again speak up to give her the motivation to fight out of this hold. The potential World Title contender begins her upward ascent, fighting valiantly to get to her feet. Collins comprises this however, tucking on the chin, pulling Buehler around and placing her head in a front chancery. He snaps over backwards into a quick suplex then transitions from the move into a mounted position. Closed fist after closed fist connects to Katelyn’s face, right to the bandage on her forehead.

Susie: Me thinks Collins is trying to make Buehler bleed again.

Dollar: The Sinistry isn’t going to stop until Katelyn has been exsanguinated.

A bludgeoned and traumatized Buehler is pulled up to her seat with Collins stepping around behind her and applying the dragon sleeper.

Dollar: And now Collins continues to break Buehler down.

The sleeper has Buehler lifting her hand and contemplating submitting to this hold. Yet somehow she manages to wedge her feet to the canvas and bridge up to her feet. With the crowd solidly behind her, feeding her the crucial inspiration she needs, Buehler manages to stand up only to be dropped from the dragon sleeper into the inverted DDT.

Susie: I think you were right, Johnny, Buehler is just too beat-up after that physical match with Foxx at Invictus.

Dollar: She can’t get out of the gates against Collins.

Collins continues his slow, plodding, methodical destruction of the beautiful Buehler. This is completed via a double stomp to Buehler’s ribs followed by Jonathan just falling back and splashing the mid-section with a senton. The damage to the mid-section has an aggravated Katelyn sitting up, putting her in a very dangerous predicament. Collins moves in, steps over the back of Buehler’s neck, sitting down on it while reaching out and pulling up on Katelyn’s ankle.

Katelyn finds herself compressed, her hands shaking out to her sides but not yet making the symbolic tap out gesture. Instead she begins to twist her body from side to side in a dire, desperate, determined attempt to make her escape.

She finally rolls to her side and Collins instantly transitions from one hold into another. The leg is taken from behind Katelyn’s head and then wrapped around in front of her neck as he goes to apply the Koji Clutch.

Dollar: Impressive.

Susie: This guy must have been a Stretch Armstrong doll in a former life, because he really knows how to bend and stretch his opponents. I wonder if his blood is also made of corn syrupt.

Dollar: But has he finally brought Buehler to her breaking point?

Blood seeps out from beneath Katelyn’s bandage, her laceration opened by some of those fists Collins delivered a few moments ago. In spite of this blood loss and the pain that cripples her body, Katelyn manages to provide a stunning counter. She puts her knees on the canvas and begins to turn her body just enough to elevate Collins’ legs into the air and turn his body onto the back of his shoulders, compressing him into a pin.

1

Collins immediately breaks the hold, rolling back unto his feet and charging at the still knelt Buehler. Suddenly Katelyn reaches out, takes him around the head and drops into a sit-out jawbreaker. Collins bounces off and staggers back into the ropes, ricocheting off and staggering into a Lou Thez Press from the former X-Class Champion. She crashes into Collins, brings him down to his back and now subjects him to right hand after right hand.

Dollar: And now Katelyn responding with some closed fists of her own.

One punch after another connects with Collins’ face before Katelyn then employs her hands to savagely choke her opponent. Wright starts a five count, reaching four and finally coercing Buehler to break away from her opponent…No…not break away, but transition from the choke into the Anaconda Vice. Buehler drops to Collins’ side and folds his arm over backwards, attempting to apply the submission hold.

Dollar: Oh wow….Buehler is actually going for a submission?

Susie: She should force Collins to suffocate by smothering his face with her boobs. Unleash the dreaded Motorboat submission hold, Buehler!

Before the hold can be applied, Collins reaches up with his legs, wraps them around Katelyn’s head and counters out of the Anaconda Vice, right back into the Koji Clutch.

Dollar: WOW!

Johnny isn’t the only one stunned by this counter, the fans responding in shock as Collins manages to trap Buehler in this hold and instantly bring her to the cusp of submission.

Dollar: Collins AMAZINGLY locking in that Koji Clutch, and he might have sufficiently surprised Buehler to get her to submit.

The fans collectively put their endorsement behind Buehler, motivating her to keep fighting, to keep struggling, to find the inner-will to carry forth. It seems to be working, Buehler compelled to begin scooting across the canvas, extending her foot and draping it over the bottom rope.

Dollar: Katelyn gets to the ropes.

Susie: YAY!

The submission is broken by Collins, who slides back across his hands and knees, eyes forming a target on the addled Buehler.

The battle weary Katelyn gets to her feet with the use of the cables before Collins charges in from behind. He reaches out and takes her by the shoulder only to have Katelyn reach back, snatching him around the neck and going for the KBO….leaving her feet to hit one of her most impactful maneuvers. And we do see a high impact, but not via the KBO. Collins manages to pull his head free, trap both of Katelyn’s arms, pin them behind her back and then drop into the Tiger Suplex. Buehler flies through the air, but instead of slamming across the back of her neck, she flips over and lands directly on her feet.

Susie: Look at Katelyn! She landed on her feet like a cat? Which makes sense, because I always hear the boys in the back talking about her puss…

Dollar: Don’t even….But yeah, this is definitely a totally different side to Buehler.

Collins spins around and rushes at Buehler, who leaves her feet in anticipation of delivering the Lou Thez Press. Instead of coming down on top of Collins’ chest and subjecting his face to right hands, she falls into his leg, her chest subjected to a lightning fast buzzsaw kick. The shot swats Buehler out of the air and brings her down to her knees. Collins then steps back, balances himself and moves in with another roundhouse kick aimed directly at the head.

His foot swings around with unbelievable velocity, but Buehler manages to duck at the last second, causing Collins’ foot to travel over her skull. His back ends up turned towards Katelyn, who wedges her hands to his spine and shoves him off into the ropes. Jonathan bounces off the cables and comes back in at Katelyn, or more accurately into the KTFO….which would have decapitated him had it connected…..HAD IT. Instead Collins drops into a baseball slide and manages to avoid the blow, then leaps to his feet behind Katelyn. He rushes in and gets caught with the KBO. The cutter connects!

Dollar: KBO! KBO connecting!!

Susie: Yipppe ki yay mother-fuc….

Dollar: Easy Susie.

The cutter connected but Buehler is in no shape to follow up, the physicality of this match, coupled with the brutality inflicted on her by Rachel Foxx, has Katelyn in a horrible condition. It takes what seems like an eternity for her to finally begin standing up and once she does, her eyes finally catch a glimpse of her antagonist moving down the ramp. The fans screech at the sight of Rachel Foxx, exuding an aura of malice.

Dollar: Wait a minute now…what business does Rachel Foxx have coming out here?

Susie: Me thinks she didn’t take too well to her loss against Buehler at Invictus.

Dollar: Watch your back Buehler.

In spite of the toll of her past two performances, Katelyn still stands up and readies herself. Her forearm is drawn back, ready to be swung into the face of Foxx should she enter the ring. But Foxx doesn’t willingly walk into the spider’s web. Instead the Suicide Queen lingers outside of the ring, sliding her finger back and forth across the apron in a playful fashion. Katelyn isn’t going to treat her like a child though, unless it’s an adopted ginger….considering all adopted gingers deserve abuse.

Dollar: Foxx looks like she’s playing mind games with Buehler.

Susie: Mind games? Wouldn’t it be funner to play Parcheezi?

Suddenly Rachel’s reluctance to enter the ring becomes more evident when a figure climbs over the barricade behind Buehler’s back. The pleas of the crowd prompt Katelyn to turn around and spot Rachel Frost stepping past the announce table and stopping at the apron.

Dollar: Oh-no….oh-no…Buehler is surrounded. Rachel Frost, the very woman who laid out Katelyn with the Dead in Tombstone at Invictus….she and Foxx, they’ve got Katelyn trapped.

Susie: The Rachels….they’re gonna….they’re gonna do something real bad.

Dollar: Worse than bad….I have a feeling they’re going to do something horrific. Unless Katelyn can somehow manage to fight them off.

Obviously referee Wright is going to be of no help, clearing out of harm’s way, abandoning his officiating duties to prevent being swept into the middle of this madness.

There is no escape for Buehler though, who turns from side to side, arm cocked back and ready to unload on whatever Rachel opts to get into the ring first. Methodically Frost climbs up onto one apron while Foxx walks up the steps on the opposite side of their prey. Buehler is still turning from side to side, anticipation and goosebumps forming as the crowd waits to see who’s going to make the first crucial move.

The first bullet is fired, but not from Frost, not from Foxx, and not from Buehler, it comes form Collins. He spins Katelyn around and devastates her cheek with the ZERO Hour. The spinning back fist almost shatters Buehler’s face and sends her twisting to the canvas.

Dollar: Collins reminding Buehler where her focus should have been, nailing her with the ZERO Hour.

Susie: She’ll never have to worry about Tonsillitis, because her tonsils just got knocked right out of her throat.

Katelyn drops like its hot to the canvas, hitting the ring like a sack of potatoes….potatoes that Foxx and Frost prepare to slice into French fries. They simultaneously slide into the ring and seductively crawl across it towards their unconscious prey. Buehler’s eyes are only capable of a flutter, unable to see what Frost and Foxx have in store as they kneel at her sides, twisted grins overcoming the faces of both ladies. At the same time the Saint of Violence, Collins, is snapping his fingers above his head, eyes focused on the rafters.

Dollar: What is Collins signaling for?

Susie: A glittery pon…

Dollar: PLEASE do not get started on that aga….

STATIC

The arena is blanketed in shadows….the crowd, the ring, everything plunged into darkness.

Dollar: The lights are out, meaning some bad things are happening.

And when the ring is illuminated, those bad things are revealed to be a giant crucifix lowered into the ring which Katelyn is propped up against.

Dollar: What in the fudge?

The wails of the crowd are heightened by the sight of a barely conscious Buehler, bleeding from her lacerated scalp, and injured body propped against the wooden cross. To make matters far more harrowing, Katelyn’s arm is extended out to her side and her hand is wedged against the wooden beam by Collins….while Frost is holding a steel spike to Katelyn’s broken hand….and what is Foxx clutching? The Suicide Queen just so happens to grip a gavel, one that will impale the spike into Buehler’s palm and pin it against the crucifix.

Dollar: Oh-no…this is sick…This is downright disgusting. The Sinistry is about to crucify Buehler.

Frost turns a smile in the direction of Buehler, who in her dazed state, tries and fails to free her hand before it can be bolted to the crucifix. There is no escape however, not from the three individuals who have her out-numbered and overwhelmed.

One of these individuals presently toys around with the gavel in her hand, twirling it around her fingers, relishing this opportunity.

Foxx: So you want redemption? You want salvation? First you have to pay penance for your sins….whore.

Rachel cocks back the gavel and begins to swing it before finding another weapon swung…a chair swung at her skull. The building implodes as P Clarence Whitman III comes rolling into the ring with weapon in hands, swinging it at anything. That anything being the heads of Frost, Foxx and Collins. Luckily those three heads scramble out of the path the chair that Whitman is flinging around like an absolute mad-man.

Dollar: WHITMAN! Whitman to the rescue. God that sounds strange.

The chair brushes past the evasive skulls of the Sinistry members, who have rolled to the exterior of the squared circle. There Collins, Frost and Foxx stand unified, smirking towards the chair wielding Whitman, and the crucifix bound Buehler.

At last Katelyn tumbles away from the crucifix and falls against Whitman….Percival being there to catch her against his shoulder.

Dollar: Thank the good lord above for Whitman….if he hadn’t interfered, what do you think Sinistry would have done to Buehler?

The question goes unanswered.

Dollar: Susie?

The camera briefly turns from the ring, now deprived of the Sinistry, to the commentator’s table, now deprived of Susie Moore.

Dollar: Oookay….where’s Susie? Susie….oh Susie! Come here girl!

Still no sight of Moore….Johnny forced to carry on solo.

Dollar: I guess Susie scared off by the looming threat of the Sinistry, and for good reason considering what they were just about to do to Buehler.

Speaking of Katelyn, she’s presently being assisted to her feet by another individual who has underwent quite the radical transformation as of late thanks to the guidance of the Black Crusade. Once on her feet, Buehler and Whitman tensely stare-down the Sinistry trio at ringside.

Dollar: Can’t believe the controversial start to tonight’s show….Can’t believe the Sinistry were about to crucify Buehler. If Whitman hadn’t intervened….God help us all. And where the hell is Susie?

The dismay over the imagery within the ring is replaced with excitement at the sights in Orlando Cruze’s office. The carpet within is traversed by an antagonized Icon. An intense frown is fixed to the President’s face, as his mind races with thoughts….thoughts that shouldn’t be shared with anyone….but are about to. The voice-over of Johnny Dollar makes as much evident, explaining why his broadcast colleague, Axl Evermore is seated in a studio chair just behind the still pacing Icon

Dollar: An absolutely stunning start to tonight’s Riot, and things aren’t going to slow down any time in the foreseeable future, because we’re about to get an interview with Orlando Cruze, and after Hell in a Cell at Invictus, there’s no telling what the Icon is going to say.

Unfortunately the viewing audience is going to have to wait on this particular pipe-bomb, because the time has come to pay the bills. We segue to commercial, fading out on the Icon’s mask of intensity.

INVICTUS

Fans: LET’S GO LEGION!

Fans: LET’S Go CHASE!

More Invictus moments are spotlighted to the track of ‘Born to Rise’ by the Redlight Kings. These particular stills extend to Taylor Chase and Legion standing face to face.

Dollar: So many highly anticipated matches tonight.

Abigail Lindsey is captured in another still, holding her arms out to her sides as she goes for a hug on Cassidy Cage…..The Royal Family and Orlando Cruze stand inside of the Hell in a Cell, long-time rivals joined as a team to square off against the Blacklist…..Katelyn Buehler looms on the apron, staring over the ropes at Rachel Foxx.

Dollar: Major rivalries coming to a head at Invictus.

Cut to Brittany Lohan and Alana Starr standing in opposition to one another, about to at long….LOOOONG last satiate their hatred for one another.

Even though Axl is as cool as the other side of the pillow, parked comfortably in his studio chair, Orlando remains as agitated as a bee-hive poked by a stick, continuing to pace.

Axl: Thanks again, Bud, for allowing me this interview time. I’m sure we all have a slew of questions we’d like answered coming off the heels of that ginormous Invictus event.

Note-cards are withdrawn from Evermore’s suit jacket and the first all-important inquiry is raised.

Axl: Firstly, Lando, according to the multiple wrestling forums I trolled, fans want to know what fertility drugs your pumping into your wife to account for the births of your abundant litter…..

Orlando: Axl-Axl-Axl….hate to break the news to you, but this isn’t a sit-down interview.

Axl: Really? Because I am sitting down, and I am interviewing you….So if it sounds like a duck, quacks like a duck, and flies like a duck, it’s a duck.

Orlando: This isn’t Dr. Phil, I’m not about to sit and weep about everything that went wrong at Invictus. Instead I called you back here to announce that I’m going to do something to fix what went so horribly awry at our biggest pay-per-view of the year.

Axl: Oh?

Orlando: As of this very moment, I’m putting the Blacklist on notice….

Eyes boiling with malice shift to the camera.

Harrison: It has finally come to pass.

Those same chilling eyes begin to twist around the room, and eventually find their way to the monitor positioned some distance away and situated upon the edge of the Icon’s desk. It provides footage of the ringside area, and the ramp presently occupied by the Blacklist. Lukas Montgomery and Mika Kozlov follow behind Aaron Harrison, who has the microphone in hand, speaking on behalf of his ‘family.’

Harrison: The match that we’ve been asking for….begging for….yearning for…culminated inside of Hell in a Cell….where the Blacklist at long-long-LOOONG last assassinated Royalty and humbled an Icon.

Every word spoken by Harrison, leading his compatriots to the ring, intensifies that malice inside of Cruze’s watching eyes

Harrison: And now that we’ve dispensed with the Saviors, and crushed Orlando mentally and physically, we can at last move on. The Blacklist is free…FREE to be ourselves.

The muscles twitch in Orlando’s face as he observes the Blacklist entering the ring, an area where they’ve destroyed so many careers, and created so many disturbing visuals.

Harrison: We’re done with Orlando, but we’re not done with the IWC. Because at long last we’ve found a place we can call home. A place where we can feel comfortable shedding our skin and letting our TRUE colors shine through.

Harrison’s smile and the laughter from Montgomery, has Orlando absolutely red hot, sweat beading down his flesh as he TRIES to maintain some level of composure.

Harrison: With Orlando vanguished, the Blacklist no longer has to worry about persecution…about being judged…about being mistreated. AAAAH…

He takes the most satisfying breath ever.

Harrison: It just feels so good to have severed the albatross from around our necks, to know Orlando failed in his attempts to drive a wedge between the Blacklist family, and to force us from our home…the IWC….

The Icon’s lip is trembling as he continues to bottle emotion.

Harrison: But in order for this to truly be a brand new day, a cleansing experience for the Blacklist…we have some old business to handle….We’ll start with Amanda Blayze…

Montgomery manages to grab Aaron’s wrist, pulling the microphone to his lips

Montgomery: Amanda, I haven’t lost hope for you yet. I still believe you have the potential to be something far greater, if you just embrace the hate. If you accept what you are, what all these people believe you to be. Stop fighting it, stop masquerading yourself as something you’re not….It’s too challenging. We’ve seen you come so close to at last being yourself…like when you spiked Pearson onto the Evolution Title to finish that All Star Tag Match a few weeks ago. And if you had done the same at Invictus, instead of dropping the X-Class title when you had such an apropos opportunity to lay Kathryn to waste with it, you’d be standing here tonight as a champion. But you hesitated, you still care about making a good impression on these people and your peers, even though they all consider you to be lower than dirt.

Orlando may not be the only person watching, Amanda Blayze presumably doing the same, which is why Lukas directs his comments to the camera brave enough to enter the ring.

Montgomery: Blayze, we know how you feel. We’ve been blacklisted just like you. And we were blacklisted from this business for the same reason, for being ourselves. But being shunned and condemned actually turned out to be the best thing for us, because it brought Mika, Aaron and I together. It bonded and unified the Blacklist. So even though you might feel like you’re all alone…you’re not. We’re here for you. We understand you. We know what you’re going through. We can help you find your place in life. So Amanda, come out here, walk into my arms, embrace the Blacklist and embrace yourself.

Harrison: And once that’s been done, we can at long last focus our energies on the Sinistry. Ba’al, don’t think I could simply forget what you did to my beautiful and innocent, Mika.

Aaron’s free hand finds its way under Mika’s jaw, rubbing it lovingly with his thumb.

Harrison: It’s time for YOU to suffer for your sins….

ENOUGH!

The monitor goes flying off the edge of the desk, Orlando sending it shattering against the floor.

Orlando then turns towards Evermore, who stirs awkwardly in his chair.

Orlando: They think this is over? Naaah…this doesn’t end until I say that it ends.

A big lump forms in Axl’s throat as he watches the ever so intimidating Cruze storming out of the dressing room….And there should be absolutely no question regarding where he’s headed.

The Blacklist continues to stand in the ring and address an aggravated audience. The microphone is in Mika’s palm at this point.

Mika: Ba’al…sweety, I have no idea why you turned on me during our tag match a few weeks ago. I mean, I was being the world’s greatest partner…But then, the second I turn my back, you plant me with the Totalis. What gives?

Harrison: It doesn’t matter what his misguided motives were, my Mika.

It’s Harrison’s turn to commandeer the microphone by means of drawing Mika’s wrist towards his lips.

Harrison: He put his hands on you, end of story.

Mika: Well, my Cowboy, I hope we can put this issue with the Sinistry to bed in time for us to be part of Tay’s big tribute tonight.

The Trinity are the only three individuals in the building presently grinning.

Mika: I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Harrison: Of course not my Mika….I know how much you want to be there for your sister.

Mika: I’ve always been there when Tay has needed me the most….and tonight will be no different.

Montgomery: Mika….Aaron….

Lukas’ makes a request for the microphone.

Montgomery: Your love for Taylor is so sweet I’m gonna lapse into a diabetic coma. But Taylor can wait until later. And if we’re going to war with the Sinistry, we might need some reinforcements. So right now, it’s time for us to expand our family….Let’s bring Amanda out here and let’s show her she’s not as ostracized as she believes.

Harrison and Mika agree, the group unified, all six eyes staring towards the ramp in anticipation of Blayze’s arrival.

Dollar: The Blacklist have taken over Riot, and are requesting Amanda Blayze come out here and ‘JOIN THEM?’ I can’t imagine this is gonna happen…But hey, stranger things have taken place in the IWC….like the disappearance of my broadcast colleague, Susie Moore.

The Blacklist continue to wait….and they are not a very patient bunch.

Dollar: The anticipation for Blayze’s decision continues, unfortunately though, we’ll have to wait to find out where Amanda’s allegiances lie, because we’ve got to satisfy the sponsors people.

Commercial time…leaving the viewers finally having something in common with the Blacklist, all eagerly waiting on Amanda Blayze.

INVICTUS

The voices of the masses echo throughout the corridors of Madison Square Garden and fall upon the ears of an exhausted Amanda Blayze. After going two out of three falls with Kathryn Pearson, a sweaty Blayze sits on a chair backstage, unwrapping the tape from her hands.

Blayze: Kathryn Pearson….

Cut to some of the high spots of the grueling confrontation with Blayze getting rolled up into a small package to put her down one fall, and then scoring a submission via the Huntress Trap in order to even the score.

Blayze: Tonight, you and I went out there, and we….well we stole the show.

The mesmerized fans watch intently as Pearson and Blayze tear it up in the middle of the ring.

We switch back to Blayze, brushing her sweaty locks away from her face to give her an unobstructed view of the camera.

Blayze: I knew you were a talented wrestler, but wow…you put on the performance of a lifetime out there tonight.

The match ends with Pearson countering the Blayze of Glory, by flipping Amanda over her head, onto her feet, and then subjecting her to the Cool It, Bitch.

Blayze: I’m not afraid to admit defeat. Hey, it happens to the best of us. But at the very least, I didn’t walk away totally empty-handed.

We’re back to a visual of Blayze holding up a crumpled sheet of paper, the contract for a one on one bout against Brittany Lohan.

Blayze: You’ve got your title, but I’ve got my match….I’m finally going to face Brittany Lohan….and much like Alana Starr, I will exorcize my demon.

We’re back to the here, to the now…and the here and now extends to the Blacklist impatiently waiting on Blayze’s arrival.

Dollar: As you can all plainly see, the Blacklist has taken the ring, and are waiting to find out Amanda Blayze’s response to their ultimatum.

The Trinity remain focused on the entry way, with the curtains finally parting for the entrance of Amanda Blayze. Her music cuts through the speakers and gets quite the roar from the audience….some of it positive…but much of it negative as well….to the delight of Lukas Montgomery. Their negatively only reinforces everything he’s been feeding Blayze over recent months, that the crowd already despises her. In spite of this reception, and the looming threat within the ring, Amanda Blayze comes out to give her answer to the demands of the Blacklist.

Dollar: Amanda, never one to shy from a battle, is actually coming out here with all three members of the Blacklist waiting…A decision she might regret.

That remains to be seen.

There is absolutely no hesitation, no fear shown by Blayze as she slides through the ropes. In fact, she seems to be quite fired up….quite FRUSTRATED…and she may have just been gifted the perfect punching bags to relieve her of her stress.

Dollar: Amanda looking a little perturbed here tonight, which is understandable. She thought these questions about her morality were behind her….AND to make matters even worse, we can now confirm that the dirt sheet rumors are true. The night of Invictus, Brittany Lohan’s contract with the IWC expired, and unfortunately her people weren’t able to come to terms with the IWC on a new deal. Which means the contract Blayze busted her ass to win at Invictus, is absolutely meaningless at this point.

This fact is at the forefront of Blayze’s mind as she grabs a microphone and turns to the Blacklist…well…one member in particular. Lukas has persuaded his teammates to vacate the ring, so it’s fittingly just he and Amanda, mono-a-mono.

At long last Amanda is going to give a definitive answer, putting to rest any questions about her honor. So she lifts the microphone to her lips only to have them shut. Lukas swats the mic out of her hand, not wanting some long winded verbal response….he wants to get physical, and fast. But said physicality, will not be accomplished via violence, instead Lukas opens his arms, actually imploring Amanda to answer him via a hug.

Dollar: WOW! Lukas is actually getting….tender? I didn’t think the Blacklist knew what tenderness was.

Montgomery: This is it…your chance to embrace the person these people believe you to be. If they all already think you’re a wolf, why continue to wear sheep’s clothing?

Blayze is obviously contemplating this latest temptation.

Dollar: Don’t give in now Amanda….we all understand your frustrated by this situation with Lohan, and the disrespect shown to you by the fans and the locker-room, but you don’t have to be what others want you to be. Be your own person.

At long last Amanda steps towards Montgomery and accept his hug.

Dollar: Oh no…Amanda no.

A smiling Montgomery shows he is indeed capable of affection, patting Blayze on the back as she rests her cheek to his chest.

Dollar: This may be the most disturbing thing I’ve ever seen….and I say that even after watching George Clooney in an anatomically correct bat-suit.

Montgomery turns towards his teammates.

Montgomery: Looks like we’re gonna have to set an extra plate at the dinner table tonight….

Lukas is served…..a fujiwara armbar. Blayze brings Lukas down to the canvas and locks in the submission.

Dollar: HEY! It was all a ruse! Blayze was setting Montgomery up!

The hold is locked in but Lukas is quick to escape it. He reaches out and wraps a hand around the bottom rope.

Dollar: But Lukas reaches the ropes before any real damage could be inflicted.

Montgomery uses his grip on the rope to drag himself under the cables and to the apron. He just gets up before Blayze reaches over the ropes, takes him by the head and rushes him towards the corner. Lukas’s face bounces off the corner and he goes twisting to the outside mats.

Dollar: Blayze taking out all of her frustrations over this Brittany Lohan situation on Montgomery. The man who has went to such lengths to manipulate her.

Referee Fitzpatrick hustles down the ramp, slides into the ring and starts the match…or more accurately….the chaos.

LUKAS MONTGOMERY VS. AMANDA BLAYZE

Amanda now takes off across the ring and directs her boots through the ropes into Lukas’ shoulder. The dropkick through the cables has Lukas spiraling into the barricade, falling against it for support. Mika and Harrison shout at Lukas to get his head back in the game, but his head presently finds itself crumpled beneath the airborne body of the Hawaiian export. Before anyone can react, Blayze rushes up the turnbuckle, stands on the top rope and ultimately comes flipping off into the tope con hilo.

The impact of Blayze’s body into Lukas’ chest and face, drives Montgomery back into the barricade.

Dollar: OOOOOOOHHH! Blayze crashing into Lukas. She is really fired up here tonight.

Montgomery is compressed beneath the weight of Blayze, who rolls away from her victim. She ends up on her feet, grabbing Lukas by the hair, dragging him towards the ring and sliding him in under the cables. Lukas ends up on his knees with Blayze stepping in and delivering a dreaded buzzsaw kick to the sternum, followed by a second and then a third, and then a fourth and then a fifth, and then a sixth, seventh, eighth and ninth….

The fans are in full frenzy mode as these stiff kicks connect one after another. They finally stop only for Blayze to swing her foot around and nail Montgomery with a knock out roundhouse shot directly to the temple. His neck almost snaps after this sickening impact with Amanda’s boot, sending him plummeting face first into the canvas. The moment he lands flat on his face, Blayze drops flat on her ass, reapplying the fujiwara armbar.

Dollar: The armbar AGAIN established on Montgomery after that devastating series of kicks. Amanda is just coming at Lukas from every conceivable angle, and now she’s shutting down his ability to hit the Quieter.

Harrison and Kozlov encroach upon the ring, slapping the aprons and trying to inspire Montgomery to fight through this hold. Lukas manages to do just that, pushing himself up onto his knees, which inspires Blayze to stand up, swing around under the trapped limb and apply an arm ringer. She then delivers another roundhouse kick, and another, and another…Lukas’ sternum being caved in by these blows.

Yet another high impact roundhouse is about to connect only to have Montgomery suddenly catch her around the crease of the knee and the ankle. He stands up and pulls Amanda in by the calf, connecting with an inside leg trip on her planted foot. Blayze lands on her back and now Montgomery is swinging around her trapped limb, going for a figure four it seems. The second he exposes his back to his adversary, Amanda wedges a foot to his posterior, pushing him off and sending him charging into the cables.

He ricochets off and comes back towards Amanda, who has kipped up to her feet and is using one of them to swing around into a roundhouse kick. It nails Lukas right to the temple and sends him spiraling into the cables.

Dollar: ANOTHER big kick to the skull…..and fortunately for Lukas, he spilled to the outside as opposed to the middle of the ring…preventing a potential pin-fall.

Somehow Montgomery manages to land on his feet, but not with the gracefulness of a cat. He then goes staggering into the barrier, leaning heavily upon it while Blayze is building momentum. She charges across the ring and leaps over the ropes into a tope con hilo.

The somersault plancha leads to devastating results, for Blayze.

Montgomery side steps the airborne body and watches as Amanda goes crashing spine first into the mats.

Dollar: But the second plancha misses its target.

The body of Blayze bounces HARD from the mats, sending her rolling along into the barricade, the side of her face wedged against the steel….A terrible predicament to be in. Lukas barrels in, extends his knee and drives it into Amanda’s temple, crushing the cranium between leg and steel.

Dollar: SICKENING!

Blayze’s eyes have rolled to the back of her head and her body is sliding down the barrier. No rest is provided to the weary, as Montgomery snatches her up, drags her comatose body to her feet and scoops her up unto his shoulder. He then rushes across the mats and throws Blayze with a snake eyes right unto the steel steps. Amanda’s head bounces back and she goes staggering into the waiting arms of a now vengeful Montgomery.

Lukas wedges a shoulder to her spine, heaves her into the air, then throws her forward, Amanda catching tremendous height before she eventually comes crashing down back first into the mats.

Shortly after dishing the punishment on Blayze, the official’s ten count is broken by Montgomery, who rolls into the ring then right back out of it. He drops to his feet then goes rushing across them into a face crushing knee strike to a crouched Blayze.

The blow sends Amanda staggering back and falling rump first into a chair situated in the corner of two converging barricades. Yet again a very dangerous position for the already weary Blayze.

Lukas provides even further wear and tear, charging across the mats and diving with both boots right into Amanda’s chest. The basement dropkick drives Amanda’s back into the barrier….one she is quickly pulled away from so Lukas can fling her into the ring.

Significant trauma has been inflicted on Blayze, more than enough to set her up for the pinfall Lukas is presently going for. He hooks her legs, leading to a grin from Mika, and not a note of emotion from Harrison.

Fitzpatrick makes the count to sheer negativity.

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2

The mood changes when Blayze gets a shoulder up. Now its Lukas turn to become negative…not just negative…but downright hostile. With a handful of Amanda’s hair, Lukas drags her along to her feet and throws her through the ropes to the outside.

Why did he pitch her to the exterior of the ring? So Mika Kozlov can inflict a little added punishment. While Montgomery argues with the referee, behind Fitzpatrick’s back, Mika is snapping Amanda over into the suplex.

Dollar: The Blacklist’s numbers being used to overwhelm Blayze. Knew it was only a matter of time before that happened.

After dragging Blayze along into the suplex, Mika then plucks Amanda’s worn body from the mats and then deposits her in the ring. She is afforded not even a second of recovery time, because Montgomery is right on top of her, forcing her chin over the middle rope then wedging his knee to the back of her head.

The strangulation is permitted only until official Fitrzpatrick comes dangerously close to fulfilling a five count. He gets to 4.9 before Lukas retracts his knee from the back of Blayze’s neck then drags her by the hair to the middle of the ring. He bends her head over backwards then drives his elbow directly between her eyes, dropping Amanda to the canvas. However, Lukas keeps hold of the hair and uses it to pull Blayze back up to her feet, where he wedges a shoulder to her spine. He now heaves Amanda up and slams her down harshly via the back drop suplex.

Lukas then sits up, grabbing Amanda by the hair and using it to once again pull her along to her feet. Amanda is then heaved into the air and dropped back first across Montgomery’s elevated knee. The Canadian back-breaker is delivered, sending Blayze flipping over to her stomach. Lukas then drops with the same knee that has inflicted such punishment, right into the small of Amanda’s spine.

The rear chin-lock is established with his knee digging deep into her kidneys. Blayze lifts her hand into the air, already brought to the brink of submission. After enduring a grueling match with Pearson at Invictus, Amanda just doesn’t have much left in her body to tolerate this type of punishment.

Said punishment is exacerbated as Montgomery rears back on the chin and forces his kneecap even deeper into the spine.

The stubbornness, the persistence, the will power being displayed by Blayze at last gets the crowd rallied behind her.

Dollar: I’m surprised by this…Blayze is winning back the crowd by fighting against the man who has tried so hard to get her to turn against them, and the fans to turn against her.

Indeed, Montgomery has TRIED to twist and distort Blayze’s mind, but now all he’s doing is twisting and distorting Amanda’s back. In spite of that aggravation, she starts to rise towards her feet, however she only gets to her elbows and knees before being shut down by a clubbing blow over the upper back.

Montgomery then takes her by the hair, and drags her along to her feet only for Amanda to leave them as she’s heaved into a back drop suplex. Amanda manages to shift her weight though, wrapping her arm around Lukas’ neck and trying to drop him into a bulldog. TRYING and failing. Lukas wedges his hands to Amanda’s battered back and launches her off across the ring.

Surprisingly Amanda lands on her feet with her back turned towards Montgomery, yet again in a very…VERY bad predicament. Lukas takes advantage of her position, spinning around into the roaring elbow to the back of her head.

The Quieter….MISSES its target. Blayze turns just in time to duck the elbow that goes traveling over her head. Lukas’ back is then exposed to Amanda, who leaves her feet, wedges her knees to the small of his spine and delivers the backstabber.

Dollar: Turn-about is fair play. Blayze going to the back of Montgomery…the area of her body he has been victimizing throughout this match.

Lukas ricochets from the knees, back unto his feet while Amanda rolls to the center of the ring and then comes charging in with a lung bursting spear.

Dollar: SPEAR!

Montgomery is down and Amanda is climbing into the cover….albeit slowly given the condition of her back.

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2

The third slap never happens, because Montgomery gets his shoulder out from under the body of a traumatized Blayze.

Dollar: Montgomery just as stubborn as Amanda.

Though the muscles in her back are enflamed with pain, Blayze manages to crawl along into the ropes, employing them to begin a slow ascent to her feet. Meanwhile official Fitzpatrick is busy checking the condition of Montgomery, meaning a blind eye has been turned to the shuffle side kick unleashed by Harrison.

Aaron leaps to the apron and delivers the thrust kick right to Blayze’s temple.

Dollar: Damn-damn-damn….the Blacklist continues to employ their treacherous tactics.

The skull rattling kick knocks Blayze backwards into the waiting clutches of Montgomery.

He spins Amanda around and then lunges into the air, trapping her around the neck before falling back into the leaping downward spiral.

Blayze’s face ricochets from the canvas and she goes flipping over to her back while Montgomery goes crawling into the cover.

Dollar: And thanks to that kick from Harrison, the winning ways of the Blacklist continue.

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2

Or will they?

Blayze obviously thinks otherwise, squirming out from under the clutches of Montgomery before the three could be made.

Dollar: Well I stand…nay….SIT corrected. Blayze refusing to be subjugated by Montgomery, be it mentally or physically.

Well, she won’t be subjugated, but she will be victimized. Lukas makes this happen by method of dragging her along to her knees, pulling her head under his seat and then heaving her up into a powerbomb predicament. He then goes rushing forward to deflate all the oxygen from her lunges, and all the energy from her body.

Amanda is about to be demolished only to have her push her fatigued body over his head, slide down his back and wrap her legs around his waist. Blayze then snaps Lukas over into the Blayze of Glory.

The sunset flip driver nearly snaps Montgomery’s neck and puts Amanda in position for the three.

Dollar: The Blayze of Glory….it connects…..In spite of the interference of Harrison and Kozlov, Amanda might have pulled off a miracle here.

The three count is about to be made, Fitzpatrick getting into position and the fans getting to their feet.

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2

The third slap is thwarted when Fitzpatrick’s ankle is grabbed and yanked by Kozlov.

Dollar: This is such horse-shit.

An infuriated Fitzpatrick turns and condemns Mika, threatening to eject her from ringside while Harrison is sliding into the ring. He rushes directly at Blayze with a shuffle side kick only to have his foot caught in her clutches. Blayze pushes the foot away from her chin, sending him twisting in a complete circle. The second he turns back towards Amanda, he receives a step up enzugari to the back of the skull.

Dollar: Blayze is surprisingly fighting the entirety of the Blacklist on her own. This is a superhuman feat.

Amanda scrambles to her feet after having just put one to the back of Harrison’s head. She then turns, rushes across the ring and drops into another baseball slide dropkick, nailing Mika in the chest. Kozov is knocked to the mats, forced to regret hitting that suplex on the outside mats. The fans are going bananas in the background as Blayze at last sets her sights on the target that matters most. Montgomery has just gotten to his feet when Amanda comes rushing in, looking to finish this issue once and for all. She dives forward and catches Lukas around the neck, about to drop and lock in the Huntress Trap.

She falls back to hit the DDT portion of the move only to have Lukas plant his feet, refusing to be taken over. He then stands up straight and launches Amanda off of the front chancery by throwing her up into the air. She catches enough height for Lukas to manage spinning around and nailing the Quieter on an airborne Blayze.

Dollar: WHOOOOA!

Amanda’s uphill battle against the Blacklist couldn’t last forever…..finally thwarted by this insane version of the Quieter. The blow knocks her to the canvas and Lukas falls over her chest.

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Dollar: Gosh, just when I thought Blayze was going to persevere against the odds the Blacklist’s sheer numbers proved to be her undoing.

The fans respond with universal disdain at the image of Blayze taking the pinfall at the hands of the highly manipulative Montgomery.

The disfiguring shot on Blayze isn’t enough for the Blacklist….they haven’t inflicted the trauma she deserves for turning Montgomery down. Mika ensures this as she climbs up onto the apron, shouting at the official to intentionally distract him. Fitzpatrick cuts her off before she enters the ring, shouting at Kozlov to get down from the apron while in the ring behind his back, Harrison has slid into a side headlock on Blayze, pulverizing her face with right hand after right hand. At the same time Montgomery’s boots are finding their way down into Amanda’s ribs. Mika continues to keep the official from interfering in this post-match assault.

Dollar: Harrison and Montgomery doing nothing short of mugging Blayze at this point.

The superior numbers and the lack of compassion from the Blacklist, is too much for Blayze to deal with. She gets up, but only because Montgomery is forcing her along to her feet by the bangs of her sweaty locks. He then grips her under the chin, holding it up so she can see into his face and hear every word filtering through his snarling lips.

Montgomery: It didn’t have to be like this, Blayze. All you had to do was embrace the hate.

The unconscious Amanda is forced up to her feet then thrown along into the waiting clutches of Harrison. Both of her arms are hooked and her body is heaved into the Hybrid Theory. Or so that was the original plan, one derailed thanks to the kendo-stick swung into Harrison’s spine by Orlando Cruze.

Dollar: It’s CRUZE!

The cane almost shatters over Aaron’s back, but remains intact long enough to be driven into Aaron’s spine again…and AGAIN….until finally Harrison goes spilling through the ropes to the outside of the ring. The intense Orlando follows along behind, shouting through the cables at the man he’s so desperate to get in the ring one last time. But his preoccupation with Harrison proves devastating, as Lukas lays in weight behind the Icon, cocking his arm like a shotgun to signal for the Quieter.

Dollar: Watch out!

The forearm is flung into the back of Orlando’s head, resulting in a wail from the audience…Or so that’s how they would have reacted, but their response changes when Orlando ducks and Montgomery goes spinning into the ropes. He ricochets off and right into a shot between the eyes via the kendo-stick.

Dollar: YES! Orlando bashing in Montgomery’s brains!

The stick bounces off of Lukas’ head and puts him on his back while Blayze gets back to her feet and now crouches in anticipation.

Dollar: And it looks like Amanda is going to capitalize on all this aggression.

Said aggression now extends to Orlando rolling out of the ring and going after Harrison with the cane. But Aaron manages to stagger away with Mika’s help, turning herself into a makeshift crutch. The two climb over the barricade and into the crowd. They then push their way through the audience with Orlando following directly behind them, giving no rest for the wicked. Including Montgomery, who stands just in time to be cut in two by a lethal spear by Blayze.

Evidently the fans love this, hence why their reaction is so thunderous.

Dollar: BLAYZE! She’s channeled all of her rage, all of her hate, all of her frustrations into vanquishing Montgomery with that spear.

Amanda may have lost the match, but she doesn’t look like a loser this evening given the condition she’s left Montgomery in. Even with her back surging with pain, and her muscles worn from the physical toll of this bout, she still manages to lean in and whisper something to Montgomery.

Blayze: Awww..does it hurt? Want me to kiss it and make you feel better?

Instead of a kiss, she unleashes a slap right to Montgomery’s cheek, before finally taking her leave of the ring.

Dollar: Amanda didn’t win, but she did resist Montgomery’s influence.

As Blayze makes her exit, Orlando makes his entrance. Harrison, Mika and Orlando had vanished into the backstage area via one of the many exits amidst the crowd, but before long the Icon is stepping back out into the sea of teeming masses. He comes not only with a cane in his hand, but a microphone as well, one he presumably snatched up while backstage.

Orlando: I said this wasn’t over, and I meant it!

Just to demonstrate how fired up the Icon is, he swings the cane into the concrete beneath his feet, almost shattering it on impact.

Orlando: MONTGOMERY!

Though still addled by the shot with the cane and the spear, Lukas manages to look up from the canvas and into the crowd.

Orlando: I don’t care if the Blacklist THINKS they’re through with me, because I’m not going to stop until I get Harrison in this ring and I’VE finished this!

The microphone falls to the ground but not the cane, Orlando keeping a firm grip on the weapon he’ll use to inflict even more damage on anything standing between himself and a match with Harrison.

The door leading to the office of the Icon pops open and out steps Axl Evermore. All the while he forces his phone down into the pocket of his blue jeans, only to abruptly stop when he notices Mark Comeau standing in front of him.

Comeau: Hey-Hey-Hey, Axl, how’d the interview go….Was it good…was it great…was it exciting…I bet it was…yep…bet it was a great interview…great-great-great!!

Comeau suddenly ducks and protects his head from a phantom figment. Once he is sure he’s safe, Comeau straightens, twitches, scratches and blinks sporadically.

Axl: I never actually GOT my interview.

Comeau: BALLS!

Axl: Mark, did you mix up your meds again?

Comeau: Why do you ask….AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!

Hands clamp down over Mark’s temples as the pigment in his skin turns blood red. All at once his normal color is restored.

Comeau: Sorry, I thought my head was going to explode for a moment.

Axl: You definitely need to cut back on the caffeine pills.

Comeau: Maybe….but I need ‘em, need ‘em, need ‘em….especially tonight, cause I got an interview too….a big one…a HUGE ONE….I got to get hyped for it too….MAJORLY HYPED

Axl: Oh?

Comeau: Yeppers. I’m interviewing TPKid, and I’m going to do it in the middle of the ring….Mark UP-UP AND AWAY!

Comeau dives, expecting to fly but instead crashing into the floor where he immediately proceeds to grimace and hold his knee. As this particularly puzzling visual unfolds, Porno Lad can be seen peeking around a corner, watching and listening to everything. A smug grin forms upon his face, a plot hatching in his diabolical mind.

CATCH THE REPLAY ON PAY-PER-VIEW

BEFORE THE BREAK

A still frame image of the Blacklist assaulting Amanda Blayze in the center of the ring….putting the boots and the fists to her crumpled body.

Dollar: If your just tuning in, stick your head in a microwave right now you piece of….okay…I’ll calm down…even though you totally missed Johnny Dollar flying solo tonight, meaning you could have had me all to yourself. Oh yeah, and there’s been action in the ring too, like what happened before the break, when the Blacklist’s attempt to turn Amanda Blayze into another victim was derailed by our President, Orlando Cruze.

The footage begins to play and we see Orlando make a shocking save for Blayze by method of driving a kendo-stick into Harrison’s back. And before long Cruze’s weapon of choice, finds its way directly to Montgomery’s face…and the meeting of wood and skull is not a very pleasant one.

Dollar: Orlando Cruze, stemming from the actions of the Blacklist inside of Hell in a Cell at Invictus, came out here to get himself some…and boy did he ever.

The cane shot to Montgomery’s forehead is captured from a number of angles…and each angle seems to make this shot all the more traumatic.

The effects of all that trauma is evident upon the face of Lukas Montgomery, a face presently twisted into a snarl. He doesn’t look happy…which tends to happen when your head has been crushed by a kendo-stick and you’ve got the type of migraine that even a thousand Tylenol wouldn’t heal.

Montgomery: AARON….MIKA!!

At last Lukas catches up with his Blacklist cohorts….storming towards the conversing couple in the backstage corridor.

Montgomery: What the hell? You abandoned me out there.

Focus is immediately drawn to the huge welt on Montgomery’s scalp….put there by the love-tap delivered by Cruze.

Montgomery: You fed me to the mother-fucking wolf.

Harrison: Relax, Lukas…

Montgomery: Relax? You’re honestly telling me to relax after what that son of a bitch just did to me?

Harrison: Don’t lose your cool, Montgomery, that’s just what Orlando wants.

Montgomery: Still….you guys left me.

Mika: No, what we did, was draw Orlando away from the ring to protect you….

Harrison: Plus, it gave us time to think of how we’re going to deal with this Orlando annoyance.

Montgomery: Yeah?

Mika: We’ve come up with a solution…

Montgomery: Good, because I would LOVE to get another crack at Orlando.

Harrison: Not happening.

The expression on Montgomery’s face couldn’t be anymore indignant.

Montgomery: WHAT!?!

Harrison: When I said we were through with Orlando, I meant it.

Mika: We have an insurance policy for a reason, Lukas, for situations just like these.

Montgomery: An insuranc….OOOOH….Savage!

The expression changes in a heart-beat.

Harrison: Nikolai was instrumental in taking one Cruze out of the IWC…..Now he’ll remove the other.

”Wait” by ZOEGirl results in quite the puzzled reaction from the crowd. Jessica Lasiewicz waltzes through the curtains, getting an even greater divergent response.

Dollar: Ummmm, I guess I’m continuing to fly solo here. I have absolutely no idea where Susie Moore has gone….and the crowd seems a little confused themselves. This is Jessica Lasiewicz, the half-sister of Marie Jones, who made her first IWC appearance at Invictus.

Jessica starts up the steps and into the ring, the fans finally warming up to the GDW combatant. She gets into the ring, microphone in hand, preparing to get the crowd even more riled up.

Jessica: Howdy New York.

Cheap-pop time.

Jessica: You might not be too familiar with who I am, but I got VERY familiar with the IWC product when Lady Gambit’s fine derriere sat front row center watching Invictus. And I have got to say….I was impressed.

An even cheaper pop.

Jessica: It was a bar raising event filled with lots of action, and so much drama you would think it was sponsored by TNT. But, as much as I was enjoying the product, something just kept gnawing at me….The behavior of my sister…..You might know her by the name of Marie Jones.

They do, hence the cheapest of cheap pops.

Jessica: I hate to do this in a public forum, but Marie hasn’t answered my texts, she hasn’t returned my phone-calls or even responded to my tweets. Something is going on with her….Something just isn’t right about her…And I think we all need to know what’s got her behaving so out of sorts….Because the Marie Jones I saw wrestle at Invictus, is NOT the Marie Jones everybody knows and loves.

Lady Gambit turns from the crowd that has quickly embraced her, to the stage, where SHE waits to embrace her sister.

Jessica: Marie, I know you’ve been under a ton of pressure lately, and I hate to throw more stress your way, but shutting out your family, isn’t going to help you. So I HAVE to back you into a corner and call you out.

The ‘call-out’ has been made, but it hasn’t been answered.

Jessica: Marie….PLEASE come out here and talk to…..

’HAUNTED’ filters through the speakers and the crowd gives Marie Jones quite the reception….in spite of the fact that she does nothing to pander to the audience. Unlike at Invictus, Marie isn’t wearing an expression of intensity, instead she’s all smiles….FORCED smiles, but smiles nevertheless. Jones heads down the ramp and almost skips up the step, looking so giddy it borders on a bipolar ‘high.’

Dollar: Jessica, you got what you wanted, now hopefully you can help all of us figure out what the hell is up with Marie. She’s acting even stranger tonight than she did back at Invictus.

Marie struts past Jessica to fetch a microphone, all of her mannerisms and gyrations looking exaggerated.

Marie: An intervention, seriously?

Jessica: If you want to call it that.

Marie: Awww, are you feeling a wittle neglected? You mad, Girl?

Jessica: I’m not mad, just confused. What’s up with you? Your attitude has been all over the place the last couple of weeks….

Marie: Has it now?

Jessica: You’ve been so intense, and so secretive. The Marie I know, wouldn’t deliver low blows on her opponents….she wouldn’t cheat around every turn to pick up a win…And she wouldn’t shun the ones who care about her so much….

The reaction to this list of grievances? A rolling of Marie’s eyes followed by a groan.

Marie: Jess…..you are so friggin SELFISH!

Lasiewicz has a double take…..her head literally snapping back after being stricken with this verbal blow.

Marie: Since when did this become all about you? Why does everything HAVE to be about Jessica-Jessica-Jessica?

Jessica: What are you talking about?

Marie: I don’t respond to YOUR tweets….YOUR phone-calls….you’ve turned into a total sour puss because YOUR not part of MY LIFE…my NEW life.

Jessica: Your WAY off the mark here.

Marie: No….for once in my life, I finally have some clarity. I’m finally living for myself, and not by the expectations of you, my family, or these people. I’m my own person….why can’t you expect that? Why can’t you just butt out and let me be ME?

Jessica: Because this isn’t YOU!

Marie: Are you sure about that? Maybe I’m at long last embracing who I am inside…

Jessica: That’s crap.

Marie: Just accept it. The mask is off, and I’m being who I want to be. Now stop trying to stifle me, to pigeon-hold me. Just stop being so selfish. If you truly love me, you’ll accept what I’ve become, and stop trying to force me to be someone I’m not.

Jessica: Marie, you’re….

Marie: I mean, I’ve accepted you for all your faults…I’ve overlooked your many-many-many flaws.

Flaws? Before Jessica can prod her sister any further, Marie continues.

Marie: And I’ve never stopped caring about you. So pay me the same respect. And then show your sister some love.

A hug….a forced hug, but a hug nevertheless. Lasiewicz’s reaction to this hug, her arms going limp, and her eyes batting ever so awkwardly. Before Jessica can get over her initial shock, Marie is out of the ring and headed up the ramp, continuing to wear an exaggerated smirk.

Dollar: Did the IWC just turn into Days of Our Lives?

Jessica finally overcomes her surprise over Marie’s attitude shift and manages to react.

Jessica: Whoa-whoa-WHOA….TIME-OUT!

Marie doesn’t pause in spite of Jessica’s protests.

Jessica: What the fuck was that? Seriously? You expect me to buy any of that garbage? Marie, get back in here and let’s really hash this out.

The demands continue to be ignored as Jones strolls to the back.

Jessica: Your acting like a complete jackass, Marie. It’s almost like you’re a totally different pers….

A lariat connects with the back of Jessica’s head, sending her spilling forward into the ropes. Standing behind her is none other than Valentina Madison?

Dollar: What the fudge nuggets? Why is….why is Valentina attacking Jessica Lasiewicz?

The lariat to the skull causes Jessica’s throat to ricochet from the middle rope before she goes twisting into the waiting clutches of Madison, who leaps into the Wildcat Crusher. The double knees face-buster has sent Jessica twisting to the canvas, lying there twitching as a result of this unexpected and totally unprovoked attack.

Dollar: Someone PLEASE explain to me what the hell is going on here?

Valentina turns her eyes from her target to the smiling face of Marie Jones, looking back over her shoulder. She doesn’t retaliate against Valentina for this assault, instead she just winks towards the intellectual superior and then moves along to the backstage area.

Axl Evermore strides along ignorant of the incidents in the ring.

Axl: Alright-alright-alright…My interview with Orlando Cruze didn’t go exactly as planned.

These comments are directed towards the camera following along behind Evermore as he makes his way down the corridor.

Axl: But I promise I’ll make it up to you, because the second that Andre Jordan arrives here tonight, I WILL have a major interview with the Evolution Champ….i….on…

The sentence begins to trail off once Evermore spots two figures standing in front of the dressing room reserved for Silverstone Inc. Both men are adorned in baggy black hoodies and are wearing surgical gloves. One is stooped in front of the door knob, using a hair pin to pick the lock, while the other stands behind his associate’s back, keeping a wary eye out.

Axl: Erm…excuse me.

Gavin Taylor almost leaps right out of his dark attire. With a hand over his heart, Taylor turns his sunglass shaded eyes towards the interviewer.

Gavin: Jesus CHRIST!

His fist is lifted into the air.

Gavin: You’re lucky this thing wasn’t loaded, because it totally would have went off in your face.

Axl: Get over it….

Evermore doesn’t clinch a fist but extends his open hand towards the lock presently being picked.

Axl: Erm….what are you two doing?

A flustered Kyle Black turns from the hairpin in his hands to Evermore standing over his back.

Kyle: That’s none of your God damned business.

Gavin: Get to steppin!

Just because they aren’t moving fast enough, Taylor swats the camera lens with his open palm, shoving it back HARD.

The intellectually superior Valentina Madison has just made it through the curtains and into the gorilla position before her departure is all together halted by Sparkles and Greyson Lovejoy.

Sparkles: HEEEEY BAAAABY!

With a pronounced frown, Madison turns to acknowledge the puppet, wearing a neck brace, and the puppeteer wearing a full wrap around head bandage.

Greyson: Good evening Mrs. Madison.

Madison: Yikes…

She disgustedly overlooks both Sparkles and Lovejoy, focusing on their battle scars.

Madison: What happened to the two of you?

Sparkles: Ninjas…like fifty of them…they attacked us coming out of an Opium Den.

Madison: Okay-okay, not like I asked for your life stories. Just get to your questions.

Sparkles: Oh my, no foreplay then?

Madison: I don’t play around….I get straight to it. A detail that red haired ignoramus I left lying in the ring just learned.

Sparkles: Yeah….which brings me to my first question.

Madison: Why did I attack this Lasiewicz? Simple…so simple even a muppet like yourself could understand. I saw an opportunity to make a statement, and I just took it….Even if said statement had to be made via a display of mindless brutality. Unfortunately, violence is the only method of leaving impressions on the unwashed cretins in the audience.

Sparkles: So….

Madison: And although she is intellectually inferior, I must extend some kudos to Marie Jones….

Greyson: Why is that?

The faintest of grins inhabits Valentina’s face.

Madison: Let’s just say, that none of this would have been facilitated without a little aid from the most unlikely of sources.

No further information is given, Madison leaving upon making her intentionally vague statement.

Sparkles: Wait…wait….I never got to ask my real question, rather Lasiewicz’s carpets match her drapes!

APOCALYPSE VS. PESTILENCE

”Zombie” by the Cranberries plays over the PA system, dredging a dreadful response from the fans. Not much love is shown to the Pestilence, who make their way to the stage with Jacob Laymon seated on top of Executioner’s shoulders and Jessica Wilde crawling seductively through the big man’s legs. She gets to her knees and leans back to look up into the crimson eyes of Executioner, and the painted face of Laymon loaded upon his bodyguard’s shoulders.

Dollar: Well…there are my former colleagues….Hard to believe that just a few months ago, Executioner was the head of security, Laymon was the General Manager and Head of Talent Relations, and Jessica was seated right here beside me as the ring announcer. But ever since their abduction by Ba’al, they’ve all underwent radical changes in their personalities.

This collection of oddities, sans Eric Cartman plushie, finally reach the ring with Laymon leaping off his bodyguard’s shoulders and unto the apron. He then stands up on the middle rope and pulls up on the top one, separating the cables so that Jessica can rush down the ramp and leap through Jacob’s parted legs, dropping into a forward roll to the center of the ring. Jacob springs off the middle rope and over the top cable into the ring.

Dollar: The Pestilence might be awkward, that’s for certain, but one thing they haven’t been, are winners. And I don’t think that will change tonight when they face the latest incarnation of Apocalypse….

Executioner remains at ringside watching as Jacob steps over Jessica’s back and pulls up on her jaw so that he can bend down and lick her cheek.

Walker: MARIE!

The intensity doesn’t just extend to the ring or the areas around it…hostilities heightened in the backstage realm as well. A tumultuous situation is created by Aerik Walker, who has caught up to Marie Jones. She turns from the curtains she was just about to pass through, in order to acknowledge the intense silver haired warrior standing behind her.

Marie: HEY AERIK! Ya ready big boy?

Walker: Ready? For what exactly? A tag match, or another of your deceptive tactics?

Marie feigns ignorance, but it doesn’t come naturally to her.

Marie: Deceptive tactics?

Walker: I saw what you just had done to your own sister out there.

A finger directs attention to the very ring where Jessica was moments ago assaulted by Valentina Madison.

Marie: Aerik, don’t be silly now. I never laid a finger on our precious Lady Gambit.

Walker: No, you didn’t, but I can smell a set up from a mile away. It’s a sixth sense you hone after 20 plus years in this business. I know you snowed Lasiewicz.….

Marie: Now why would I do that?

Walker: I don’t have a clue, in fact, I don’t know why you’ve done even half of the stuff you’ve been up to lately. All I do know, is that I can’t trust you….If you could do that to your own sister, what’s to stop you from setting me up too?

A reassuring hand pats Walker on the forearm.

Marie: Awww…Aerik…don’t worry….I would never hurt Mother’s best friend.

Walker: Yeah, and your mom, she would be endlessly disappointed in you, if she knew you were threatening me with these ‘secrets?’ Tell me, what do you think you know about me? What dirt do you think you have on me? What makes you think you can hold something over MY Head and force me to be your tag team partner?

The hands encompass one of Walker’s knuckles, pulling them towards Marie’s cheek.

Marie: I only made that threat to get you to listen to me. Aerik, please don’t be mad at me. I was just trying to get your attention…And it worked, because you agreed to team with me tonight.

Walker: You think that’s the case, fraid not? I wanted all three members of the Pestilence by myself to send a message to the NHB Champion by crushing his flock of followers. But after Tables Are Legal, the IWC didn’t think my body would be capable of handling the stress of such a handicap match. So to prevent injury, MANAGEMENT teamed us together.

The knuckles are drawn away from her cheek and Walker fights to keep them from swinging back into her face with anything but a caressing touch.

Marie: That was a smart decision on their part….Because we BOTH know that the Pestilence will do anything in their power to weaken you before your No Holds Barred title match against Ba’al. So you need my protection….

Walker: I don’t need anything from you, Marie, but I’ll go through with the match nevertheless….

Marie: GOOD! It’ll give me a chance to prove that you really do need Apocalypse. I mean, your body is getting up there in age….You’re not the spry young workhorse you were twenty something years ago. So maybe you should reconsider your stance on working with me, and trusting me. Just like your wife, I’m only concerned with protecting you, and preserving your legacy.

Walker: Don’t talk about my wife.

Marie: I’ll see ya out there, ole’ timer.

With a wink and a nod, Marie heads through the curtains, but the camera remains fixated on Silverwolf’s tense expression.

”Haunted” plays through the speakers and gets heartbeats racing. This adrenaline continues to surge once Marie, a polarizing and controversial young lady, comes rushing through the curtains and consumes the stage. She seems to display more arrogance and intensity as she embarks down the ramp, up the steps and right into the ring where just a few minutes ago she was instrumental in her sister’s assault.

Dollar: Marie Jones has been all over the place tonight….

MOMENTS AGO

Though it was witnessed mere seconds before the break, it still bares repeating. Marie Jones and Jessica Lasiewicz conduct a brief intervention in the ring only for the Phoenix to eventually leave the Lady Gambit unsatisfied in her attempts to reason with her sister. Not only is she left unsatisfied, but in quite a bit of pain as well…thanks to the assault perpetrated by Valentina Madison and culminating to the Wildcat Crusher.

Dollar: Just before the break we saw Jessica Lasiewicz TRYING to reason with Marie, to get to the bottom of her recent shift in attitude, only to have Valentina inexplicably attack Lasiewicz from behind. And Marie did nothing to help her sister.

Nothing? Well, as evidenced by the video, Marie at the very least SMILED in recognition of this assault on Jessica.

Back live to Marie standing in the corner anxiously waiting for the arrival of her teammate. She doesn’t wait long, as Aerik Walker’s music cues up and the seven footer strides through the curtains. He towers upon the stage, and stares angrily at the ring. However, his anger isn’t directed at the Pestilence, it’s focused on Marie Jones. He finally starts down the ramp and steps over the ropes, reluctantly moving into his team’s corner.

Dollar: Marie definitely hasn’t made a good impression on this man….Who was actually threatened with some type of ‘secret’ from his past and coerced into this match. So naturally, he doesn’t look very gunho about being part of this match.

The new number one contender for the NHB Championship looks ready to get his hands on three of Ba’al’s minions but Marie stops him. She insists on sending Walker to his corner so that SHE can start this match.

Dollar: And Jones just continues to do herself no favors by bossing Walker around.

An apprehensive Silverwolf moves to his corner while Marie turns just in time to spot Laymon bowling her over with a running shoulder block. Jones crashes into the canvas and then flips over from the collision from the aggressive Laymon, who stands above his wounded prey. Jones tries to stand up and Laymon blasts her to the forehead with a right hand, followed by another, and then a third, and then a forth. He then pushes Jones back first into the ropes as she ricochets off and flies back into a knee to the ribs. The Phoenix flips over the knee strike and lands on her seat while Laymon makes the tag to Wilde. He then steps around behind Marie and pins her arms behind her back so that she has no defenses from the open palm slaps being delivered by Wilde to both cheeks.

Jacob then stands up straight, employing his deceptive strength to heave Jones up into a double chickenwing. He then throws Marie down out of the double chickenwing chest first onto the elevated knees of Wilde.

Jessica drops to her back and raises her knees just in time for Marie’s sternum to be crushed against them. She bounces off and staggers back at this point before being grabbed by the shoulder and spun around into a fireman’s carry. Laymon turns in a circle and pulls Jones over into a death valley driver, sending her crashing back first once again into the raised knees of Wilde.

The masked combatant twists her body around so that her knees are waiting to collapse Marie’s lungs. Jones slams against them and then goes rolling across the ring to her stomach.

Dollar: I’m really surprised by this. The Pestilence is bringing the aggression and thus far Marie Jones doesn’t have an answer for it.

A banged up Jones grabs the ropes, desperately pulling herself up to her feet when Laymon steps to the middle of the ring behind her and motions for Wilde. In a heartbeat Jessica is rushing across the ring and Laymon is throwing her over his head into a big splash directly to Marie’s upper back. Wilde crashes into Marie’s spine and causes Jones’ throat to snap off the top rope.

She now goes staggering back into Jessica’s arms, Wilde pushing her forward into the ropes so that she can ricochet off into her waiting arms. Jones bounces off the cables chest first and then goes staggering back into Jessica’s clutches. Wilde catches her around the waist and drops back into a roll up. But just as Wilde threatens to fold Marie up beneath her, Jones uses the momentum of the roll to end up on her feet, twist around and grab a stooped over Jessica around the neck. She then heaves Wilde into the air and plants her on top of her skull with an implant DDT.

Dollar: Nice counter! Jones dumping Jessica with a dangerous high impact DDT.

The second Jessica’s head bounces off the canvas, Jacob is leaping into the ring. He then goes charging at Marie, who quickly hooks the creases of Jessica’s legs, pulling them up so that her knees are elevated in the air. She then spins around and leaps into the air, wedging feet to Jacob’s ribs and dropping into a monkey flip. Laymon flies through the air and comes crashing down on the raised knees of his own tag partner.

Dollar: Marie’s newfound intensity finally paying dividends.

Jones scrambles to her feet and Jacob is doing the same. However, Wilde is only able to get to her elbows and knees, which serves Marie just fine. She rushes across the ring, steps off of Jessica’s back and launches herself into Laymon, catching him around the neck then spiraling around into a tornado DDT. Laymon’s head crashes into the canvas and he goes flipping over to his seat, looking thoroughly discombobulated by the blow.

Marie then rolls over backwards to her knees, leaps to her feet and sizes up her opponents.

Dollar: Marie is gonna go for the big kill right out of the gates.

Her fingers twiddle to her sides, ready to wrap around the head of the first opponent who moves. Instead that hand connects with something else, Walker’s palm as he makes the tag.

Dollar: Oh-ho-ho….Walker making the tag instead….He wants to see some action.

He doesn’t see anything, he gets fully immersed in it. The big man steps over the ropes into the ring and then dismisses Marie, who looks none too happy that her thunder has been stolen. Walker enters the squared circle just as Jessica recovers enough to put her boots into the back of his thigh. One kick connects with his leg, followed by another to the crease of his knee. Jessica then takes off into the ropes, ricochets off and comes back into the waiting hands of her opponent. Aerik catches her, throws her up into the air and then moves out of the way as she comes crashing down from a tremendous height face first into the canvas. She pops up to her knees immediately thereafter, putting her in position for Silverwolf to take her around the waist and deadlift her from the canvas into a sideslam. He then lifts up on the leg, looking to send a message to the Pestilence’s master by decisively defeating his minions.

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Laymon ensures that doesn’t happen, diving in behind the seated Silverwolf and driving his hands into his neck with a double axehandle.

Dollar: Silverwolf all over the Pestilence….so much for him being the broken down athlete Marie claimed he was backstage.

The Pestilence might just break him down though, taking Aerik around the neck and dragging him around to his knees. Official Wright just continues to watch this all happen, not lifting a finger to stop these freaks from employing their number’s advantage. Walker is taken around the chin, his head being held back so that Wilde can collect herself and come charging in. A boot launches towards Walker’s face but he manages to catch it just before it can connect. He then swings her boot away from his face, causing her heel to spin completely around and ultimately nail Laymon directly to the temple.

Dollar: Silverwolf making the Pestilence pay for this double team.

The kick to the cranium sends Laymon rolling out of the ring and Wilde turning her back on her fuming opponent. Aerik lunges to his feet, wedges his shoulders to Jessica’s back and then heaves her up into the air. The place explodes as Silverwolf lunges into the air, comes down to his seat and connects with the torture rack back-breaker.

Dollar: Walker equals sheer dominance.

And he keeps on doing just that….dominating. The giant reaches his feet and does so just in time to counter the nefarious attempts of Laymon.

In charges the painted Jacob, who is caught by the chest and stomach then heaved up into the air with a gorilla press. But Executioner climbs up onto the apron, directly in front of Walker, commanding his attention.

Aerik drops Laymon without completing his move in order to swing his fists instinctively into the face of…no one. The masked giant leaps from the apron just in time to avoid having his head knocked from his shoulders.

Walker’s fist travels over the ropes and just misses his target, but now he himself becomes a target….the distracted Aerik victimized for just that…his distraction. Laymon rushes in behind Silverwolf, leaping into the air over the ropes and taking Aerik by the back of the head, snapping his throat down into the top cable. Walker staggers back, gasping for air and falling right into the clutches of a batted Wilde.

Well…not clutches…but boots. Both of Wilde’s feet nail the crease of Walker’s knee, knocking his legs out from under him and sending him collapsing to the canvas. Jessica then scrambles back to her feet, braces them against the canvas then flips back into a moonsault. She crashes right across Aerik’s chest then ducks her head and rolls forward across the canvas. Once upright she hurries across the canvas and makes the tag to Laymon, who is back in their corner

He isn’t in the corner for longer, because soon he’s on top of it, using the turnbuckle as a perch to launch himself into a headbutt. The forehead slams into Aerik’s chest, sending shockwaves of pain coursing through his body.

Dollar: Well…maybe I spoke a little too soon about Walker being dominant. He came in here like a powerhouse, but the distraction of Executioner has cost him.

Walker is obviously hurting but still manages to sit up and turn towards his partner, finding inspiration….not thanks to Jones’ words, but as a result of her giant…insidious grin.

Marie: Come along now ole’ timer, make the tag.

These words do not encourage a tag, they inspire just the opposite. The number one contender for the NHB Championship sluggishly ascends to his feet just as Laymon rushes in and crushes his cheek with a swift boot. Aerik is sent spiraling down to the canvas, clutching at his face, one that is victimized by the boot of Laymon that descends towards it.

He is about to stomp Walker’s nose back into his brain only to have that boot caught. Jessica quickly scrambles into the ring to help her partner when Walker pushes on Laymon’s boot and sends his foot launching into the air. He turns around and accidentally drives said boot into the jaw of his inbound partner, Wilde collapsing to the canvas thanks to the blow delivered by her own teammate.

Dollar: Walker playing his opponents off of one another to absolutely devastating results for the Pestilence.

An apologetic Jacob grabs hold of Jessica’s wrist, dragging her back up to her feet only to unintentionally put her in harm’s way. The second she stands, she’s caught by the throat, Walker engulfing it in preparation for the chokeslam. He then grabs Jacob’s larynx as well, going for a double chokeslam at this point.

Dollar: He’s going to put both members of Pestilence down in the dirt.

Or at least that was the plan before Walker spots Executioner sliding under the ropes to aid his trapped compatriots. The grips on both Laymon and Wilde are broken Walker going after Executioner, cutting him off before he could do any damage. The second he sees him coming, Executioner makes a hasty exit…but once again the damage has been done….the distraction proving devastating.

Walker spins back towards his opponent’s just a moment too late. Laymon lunges into the ropes behind Walker while Jessica leaps into the air, Jacob diving into the crease of the Silverwolf’s knee, and Wilde’s heel nailing the seven footer in the jaw via a spinning heel kick.

Dollar: High-low by the Pestilence.

Laymon doesn’t crawl into the pin, even though one is quite apropos at the moment. He grabs Walker’s hair, holds up on his head and begins to subject him to a lethal barrage of right hands. Obviously the Pestilence isn’t out to defeat Walker tonight, they want to do nothing short of hurt him.

Hence why Jessica is currently introducing a chair into the proceedings.

Dollar: Oh hells to the no…..Wilde bringing a chair into the match, I guess to do more damage to the number one contender for their master’s title.

Stuart Wright AGAIN turns a blind eye to the deplorable antics of the Pestilence, permitting all manner of dirty tactics. Said tactics currently extend to the positioning of a chair around the knuckles of Walker, as Laymon holds his hand in place by standing on the back of the wrist. He calls out for Jessica, who climbs a turnbuckle and prepares to frog splash the chair, intent on breaking Walker’s hand.

Dollar: No-no-no…this is the same thing the Pestilence did to Katelyn Buehler several weeks ago….They broke her hand with that frog splash unto the chair.

Jessica is just about to go high risk and pay off with grieves injury inflicted on Walker only to have Aerik save himself. He reaches up with his free hand, grabbing Laymon by the waistband and pulling it in order to launch the former Talent Manager into the turnbuckle Wilde is standing on. He is just about to crash into her, which would lead to devastating results only to have Wilde leap off the corner and over the head of her partner. She sails through the air and ends up landing on Walker….or more precisely….his PALMS.

Aerik displays his uncanny strength by catching Wilde in a gorilla press. He steps across the ring and is just about to throw her to the canvas before spotting Executioner once again climbing up onto the apron, TRYING to run interference…TRYING and succeeding. He does get Walker’s attention, just long enough for the big man to throw Jessica into a gorilla press directly into Executioner’s chest. The former IWC Head of Security collapses to the outside mats with Jessica landing on top, still stretched over his chest.

Dollar: Walker’s had enough…He’s taken out Executioner and one of his opponents at the same time.

Executioner and Wilde lament their injuries on the exterior of the ring while further damage is about to be done inside of it to the Pestilence.

Or so that’s Silverwolf’s original designs. He turns around and spots Laymon leaning against the corner he was just thrown into. Aerik rushes in and gets a mouth full of boot, Jacob’s kick staggering Silverwolf back to the center of the ring. He is swinging his arms to remain upright, with one of hands ending up close enough to Marie to be tagged.

That very hand is then employed for something else….far more devastating.

Jacob rushes out of the turnbuckle to take advantage of Silverwolf’s discombobulated state, but instead finds his face caved in via the Magnum Blitz. The very hand that was about to be crushed by the Pestilence, now shatters the cheek of Laymon.

Dollar: KNOCK OUT PUNCH!

The blow not only sends spit flying from Laymon’s mouth, but his body twirling into the waiting clutches of Jones.

After making the blind-tag, Marie swoops into position to catch Jacob with a boot to the ribs, doubling him over and the subjecting him to the Hot Shot. The Pedigree connects, driving Jacob’s face gruesomely into the canvas before his body goes twisting across it. Before he can even finish flopping to his back, Marie is already crawling over his chest into a lateral press.

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There is quite the ovation in regards to Jones’ victory….but Silverwolf’s reaction is contrastingly different. Unlike the fans, Walker doesn’t acknowledge the pin with a cheerful chirp, instead he examines his partner with a combination of confusion and anger.

Dollar: Walker did the damage but Jones comes sliding in out of nowhere to take the win for her team….And it doesn’t look like it’s setting very well with Silverwolf.

The veteran combatant looks down at the seated Jones with anger in his eyes, while Marie stares back at Silverwolf with glee in her smile.

Marie: Do you see now how much you need me?

After scoring this win and making her statement, Jones goes rolling out of the ring. She doesn’t want to hear Silverwolf’s response…or feel it to be more accurate. But unlike Jessica Lasiewicz, Walker isn’t letting Marie get away without getting some type of explanation out of her.

He is about to step over the ropes and give pursuit to Jones, only to stop, with eyes widening and expression fundamentally changing at the sight of Marie convening alongside another source of his irritation. That source being Alyksandra Blackheart.

Dollar: What the devil?

The strained relationship between Walker and his wife, Alyx is at the forefront of everyone’s mind, especially Marie’s…hence why she is so eager to wrap her arms around Blackheart’s neck, knowing what effect it will have on Silverwolf’s psyche. And it definitely takes its toll, Aerik noticeably aghast at the visual of his wife hugging it out with Marie on the ramp. They both then turn and acknowledge the puzzled frown on Walker’s face.

Dollar: What….what are we seeing here? Marie Jones and Alyksandra Blackheart, Silverwolf’s wife, the very woman who struck Aerik with a chair just a few weeks ago right here on this show, are….hugging? Are they in cahoots with one another?

Marie turns Alyx away from her husband, commandeering her ear and taking her focus entirely…..why? Because obviously Marie doesn’t want Blackheart to see what’s happening in the ring behind her back. A still confused Walker is so preoccupied with the image of Jones and Blackheart marching away, that he doesn’t even notice Pestilence swarming upon him. Executioner nails Aerik to the back of his head before he even has a chance to respond, knocking him to his knees. Wilde and Laymon then join in on the assault, kneeling beside Walker and devastating him with a barrage of clubbing blows.

Dollar: And now the Pestilence capitalizes on Walker’s distraction, attacking him while he was reeling from this sight…this sight of Blackheart and Jones….together?

Walker tries to get up as boots nail him to the spine and forearms connect with his skull. All the while Marie keeps gabbing into Alyx’s ears, keeping her focus entirely on her. Though Marie makes sure she gets one last glimpse of the downtrodden Walker, turning her head just enough to see him being brutalized and winking in his direction.

Cameras shift from the plight of Silverwolf, to the impending insanity presented by TPKid and Miss Juicy. Presently Kid is wearing something that has been a completely uncharacteristic sight of late…a giant smile.

Dollar: We’re going to try and shift focus here people….Yet Jesus Christ, it’s not gonna be easy after what just happened to Silverwolf…but if anyone could drag me out of this funk it would be TPKid…my new personal hero….the man who vanquished Porno Lad at Invictus….And we’re going to hear from him….NEXT!

The sit-down interview advertised earlier in the night is moments from occurring, and who knows what TPKid is going to let fly from between his gums when there is no filter….when he is unrestrained….when he is at last allowed to be his normal controversial….pull no punches self.

Dollar: Mark Comeau interviews TPKid…you’ve got to see this one.

Kid continues to exude the characteristics of a man who just got a reprieve from the governor, smelling the sweet air of freedom now that he is out from beneath the boot of Porno Lad.

INVICUS

TPKid: This is history…!

A still photo features Porno Lad being flipped over into the Trailer Park Dump on top of the apron.

P Clarence Whitman III: Invictus, will be a night more mind imploding than any organized sporting event…..

A stunning visual of Clarence trying to lock in the crossface on Jonathan Collins.

Katelyn Buehler: Invictus is about redemption.

A disturbing visual of Katelyn Buehler resting on her knees with blood seeping down her face and Rachel Foxx stretched across the canvas before her.

Danny Darko: Invitcus, it gives you a shot to finally take the spotlight.

A heart stopping visual of Danny Darko flying off a ladder into the Darkolator to the face of Savage who was standing on a table.

Gavin: Come on-come on-come on.

Kyle: Stop being so impatient.

In spite of Black’s best efforts, he still hasn’t managed to pick the lock on the door. So the members of Chase Global remain in the hall, when they could be nestled within the confines of Silverstone Incorporations’ private dressing room.

Kyle: This is delicate work.

Black is aggravated more-so by his colleague’s impatience, rather than his inability to pick the lock.

Gavin: I thought you KNEW what you were doing?

Kyle: I DO! I swear, I mean, I’ve had to pick the locks on handcuffs like a thousand times before…Can’t tell you how many times I was left shackled to bedrails…..So how much different can picking the lock in a door be?

Gavin: Why do I continue to have faith in you? I mean, you do nothing but constantly let me down.

Kyle: Whoa…hold it….Time out!

Black pauses his lock-picking so Gavin can see his frown…and it’s a hell of a frown…the type of frown that makes other frowns give cause to frown for not being as mighty as this particular frown.

Kyle: What do you mean “I constantly let you down?”

Gavin: Exactly what I said. If it wasn’t for you, I’d be Evolution Champion right now.

Kyle: Is that so?

Gavin: You were the one pinned at Inivictus….

Kyle: Dude, I had a head-cold, and sinus issues, and an inner ear infection…plus, I think I had food poisoning….

Gavin: Enough with the damned excuses….just open the door so I can get back MY Evolution Title belt…

Kyle: I’m working on it….I’m working on it.

Inside of the ring presently paces Mark Comeau, who fidgets nervously, scratches at his stifling collar, and continuously ducks airborne figments infringing on his personal space.

Dollar: Did my ears just go crazy? Did Gavin Taylor just insinuate….no…blatantly state that he was going to break into the dressing room of Silverstone Inc so that he and Kyle Black could steal back the Evolution Championship?

Johnny pauses for an answer, but given the fact that Susie has vanished into the ether, he gets nothing but dead silence, which in retrospect would probably be a more enlightening reply than any given by Moore.

Dollar: You know I thought this would be nice to conduct commentary by myself, but it’s actually starting to bore me. So I think I’ll take a page from Susie when she flew solo on commentary and employ this Magic Eight Ball I found under the announce table to bounce my brilliant dialogue off of. You think that’s a good idea, Magic Eight Ball?

Eight Ball: My Sources Say No.

Dollar: You’re probably right.

Comeau continues to pace the ring, sweating profusely at this point and repeatedly tucking his shirt away from his chest so his body can breathe.

Comeau: Well Invictus has come to pass everyone…and HOLY SHIT LOOK AT THAT SHIRT!

The easily distracted Comeau points to a fan wearing a bright yellow sweater at ringside.

Comeau: It’s speaking to me.

Mark slaps a hand down over his face, peeking through his fingers at the article of clothing that is telling him to do naughty things.

Dollar: Well. Mark Comeau is supposed to be out here to interview TPKid…but he looks in little condition to do so….I’ve seen him strung out before, but never like this. The guy is high out of his mind right now.

The horrified Comeau tries to carry on.

Comeau: A lot of big things happened at Invictus….big matches….big moments…big entrances…and big hair….I love hair…it feels so soft….so cuddly….

His fingers run through his own locks, tussling them so.

Comeau: Ooooh so soft….Oh so soft….

Porno Lad: Okay-okay-okay….enough of this….

The Manhattan Center is at last reunited with Porno Lad….but it is not the Porno Lad who parted ways with them just before Invictus. The man standing on the stage no longer wears fuzzy wrist bands or t-shirts featuring corny inspirational slogans. Instead, he’s adorned in a fancy black suit that just screams ‘HEEL.’

Dollar: Oh lord and heaven why? WHY did Porno Lad have to find his way back to the Manhattan Center? Couldn’t someone have taken him out to a country field somewhere and threw him out to live the remainder of his days in the wild?

Wild is precisely how the fans react, getting downright feral at the sight of Porno Lad entering the ring with a drug inhibited Comeau.

Porno Lad: Mark….I’m no prude….or holier than-thou bible thumping type….but I think you seriously need to start dialing it back on the prescription meds. I mean you never know when you might accidentally mix the wrong pills…or how easy it could be for someone to sneak into your knapsack of ‘goodies’ and swap out your caffeine pills for some Bromo-DragonFLY.

Creepy doesn’t even begin to describe his smile. Yes, it’s the type of grin that would give Freddy Krueger the heeby-jeevies.

Porno Lad: Maybe that’s what’s got you acting so Martin Lawrence heat-stroke wacky right now. Whatever the cause of your (he moves his hand up and down while extended towards Comeau)…behavior….It’s painfully obvious you’re in no condition to conduct this interview with TPKid. So why don’t you let me take this?

Comeau puts up no defense, far too mesmerized by the three headed hydra talking to him, to stop Porno Lad from taking the microphone from his palm.

Porno Lad: I’ll handle this interview with my boy, TPKid?

Comeau puts up no defense, now hypnotized by Tina Yothers taking the microphone away from him.

Dollar: Seriously? No….just no. This cannot be happening.

It is.

The very man TPKid fought so valiantly to defeat at Invictus, is now on the cusp of interviewing him in the middle of the ring.

As Mark exits the squared circle, Porno Lad steps to the center of it.

Porno Lad: TPKid, did you honestly think I’d let you have this moment? That I’d let you come out here and smooze with all these backstabbing cunts in recognition of your tainted win at Invictus? It’s not happening. You understand me? You will not come out here and try to embarrass me….You stole my perfect Invictus moment with the help of all your lumberjack cronies, so I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you continue to disgrace me….the man who should have main evented Invictus…

Eyes turn to the stage in anticipation of TPKid’s entrance.

Porno Lad: You stole my precious moment away from me, and now I’m going to steal this moment from YOU!

The tunes provided by DMX finally cuts Porno Lad off in mid-tirade. His teeth gnaw on his tongue and his face goes the same color as the substance he wants to see seep from TPKid’s forehead. The source of so much of his hostility emerges to the stage and a laughing…yes…that’s right…LAUGHING TPKid makes his way down the ramp. Even Miss Juicy is wearing a toothy smile….one far less creepy than the one Porno Lad boasted before his eyes locked on the man who defeated him at Invictus.

Dollar: This might be the tensest situation we’ve ever seen here on Riot. TPKid is still coming out here in spite of the fact that Porno Lad has just ‘hijacked’ this interview.

No hesitation is exhibited by Kid to get in the ring with the very individual he at long last bested in the most historic venue in all of professional wrestling. A fact that digs at Porno Lad like a tick with an embedded head.

TPKid: Hey Son, you look a little heated…..

It didn’t take long for Kid to find a microphone and to put it to use digging even deeper.

TPKid: What’s got you mean-mugging me? You’re loss to me, or the loss of all you’re “fans.”

Quotation fingers clue the crowd into Kid’s cynicism and prompts them to cheer in agreement.

TPkid: Who knew it would take getting the ass kicking of a lifetime from yours truly, to finally open your eyes to the fact that these people haven’t been chanting ‘Mega-Face’…..nah….they’ve been chanting something else…

The microphone is elevated to catch that very chant.

Fans: ASS-HOLE…ASS-HOLE….ASS-HOLE!

Porno Lad is as red as the ripest tomato.

Porno Lad: You turned them against me, you son of a bitch.

TPKid: No, because they never supported you in the first place, Ethan. They saw through your act right from the beginning. I only wish I had. It would have saved me quite a bit of grief….heart-ache and humiliation.

Porno Lad: Humiliation? HUMILIATION!?! You want to know humiliation? Humiliation is losing to someone like you at Invictus. A former World Heavyweight Champion being beaten by someone who couldn’t even hold up his end as a tag team champion.

TPKid: But that’s what happened, wasn’t it, Ethan? I BEAT YOU!

The skin on Lad’s face no longer changes colors, instead it twitches and it squirms.

TPKid: The ‘skidmark’ put down the Mega-Face. Nah-nah….I didn’t just beat you….I kicked your punk-ass from one end of Madison Square Garden all the way to the other…And the fans, they ate up every single moment of it.

Steam is on the verge of shooting out of every single orifice on Porno Lad’s body, so you wouldn’t want to stand downwind of him at the moment.

TPKid: As much as you want to bitch and moan about it, facts are facts. I won…and now…we’re through Porno Lad. I’m moving onto bigger and better things…title matches, main events…all the perks that come with an Invictus victory. And you, you’re gonna do nothing more than hang with your circle of whores and go down in history as the man who got his bitch-ass served at Invictus. And there’s no refuting that….there’s no saying otherwise. Because the record book is always going to show that I am better than you.

Porno Lad: YAAAAAAH!

An enraged Porno Lad loses all semblance of sanity, throwing a wild right hand at TPKid’s face only for him to duck. However, the punch still connects, only it’s not with TPKid’s face, it’s with Miss Juicy’s. The building collectively gasps at the sight of two teeth flying out of Miss Juicy’s mouth thanks to Porno Lad’s extremely powerful punch.

Dollar: Oh my God…OH MY GOD…oh my God-oh my God-oh my God!

Miss Juicy hits the canvas with two shocked individuals standing above her. Porno Lad is surprised by what he just did and TPKid is stunned to find a collection of Miss Juicy’s teeth lying at his feet…Feet he uses to carry him towards the Mega-Fac….Mega-HEEL.

Porno Lad dives out of the ring a mere fraction of a second before TPKid could knock out a few teeth of his own.

Dollar: This was….this was absolutely sick-en-ING! Porno Lad just punched Miss Juicy square in the mouth and it looks like, have mercy, he knocked out her teeth.

Of all the dastardly actions committed by Porno Lad, this has got to rank amongst his top five. And worse yet, it is a despicable act that goes unpunished, because Lad manages to do what he’s best at….RUN. He backs up the ramp, shaking his swollen knuckles out to his side while TPKid checks on Miss Juicy, staring at her swollen lips.

Porno Lad: No one humiliates me, Nate…NO ONE!

These words are only spoken once Porno Lad has put a significant amount of separation between himself and Kid. His former tag team partner crouches beside Miss Juicy, wanting so badly to give chase to the Original Prankster, but refusing to leave his girl behind, not when she’s spitting out blood and teeth.

Dollar: This issue between Porno Lad and TPKid has gone BEYOND personal.

Susie: Someone HELP! Someone PLEASE!!

Though they are exhausted from their previous encounter, Jacob Laymon and Jessica Wilde manage to maintain their grip on Susie Moore’s wrists. In spite of her best efforts to break free, there is no escaping the clutches of Pestilence….And she wouldn’t get very far even if she did….considering that Executioner brings up the rear, cutting off any avenue of escape.

Desmond Drake: Ahhhh….Miss Moore….

Drake emerges from behind one of the cement pillars of the enclosed parking lot, and approaches the jet-black limo that Susie is being dragged towards.

Drake: Ba’al has been waiting for you.

The diminutive co-owner of the IWC opens the door so that Susie may enter…..

Susie: No…please….Please Cabbage Patch Doll, don’t do this to me.

Drake: Put her inside.

Susie: PLEASE!

Desmond slams the car door shut behind Susie the second she’s been thrown inside by Laymon and Wilde.

NOW ON DVD

Cameras catch the Blacklist right in the midst of a huddle. Mika Kozlov, Aaron Harrison and Lukas Montgomery are gathered around Nikolai Kozlov, who sits on a crate in the back sporting a hoodie and guzzling down a bottle of water. On occasion he throws in a bob of his head to let the Blacklist know that he’s following along.

Dollar: Not good….not good…not good at all. The Blacklist chatting it up with their ‘insurance policy’ Nikolai Kozlov….getting him fired up for a potential encounter with Orlando Cruze tonight.

BEFORE THE BREAK

Dollar: And speaking of bad..just before the break we saw even worse.

A face to face encounter is captured between TPKid and Porno Lad right in the center of the ring.

Dollar: Mark Comeau was scheduled to get TPKid’s words regarding his match against Porno Lad at Invictus….but due to an apparent ‘drugging,’ Mark was rendered incapable of conducting the interview and Porno Lad took his place. What followed, was one of the most disturbing sights.

The smiling Miss Juicy and TPKid stand in opposition to Porno Lad, hamming up Nate’s victory at Invictus. The good times stop rolling when Porno Lad’s fist goes flying directly into Miss Juicy’s mouth, shattering her teeth.

Dollar: Porno Lad again conducting himself as one of the most reprehensible individuals in the history of this company. Not only does he drug Comeau, but then he knocks out Miss Juicy’s teeth. Talk about a low down…no good son of a bitch.

The final bits of footage show the rage radiating from Kid, provided no means of retaliation against the retreating Porno Lad.

TPKid: PORNO LAD, YOU MOTHER-FUCKER!

The crowd is equally as riled up as TPKid, who presently paces the ring, squeezing his microphone to the point where it shatters in his palm. His insatiable lust for vengeance is exacerbated by the visual of Miss Juicy being helped to the back by several members of the roster, holding a palm to her busted lip and broken teeth.

TPKid: You should have left well enough alone. You should have walked away. You should have quit while you were still breathing! Because now…now you’ve just gone and royally fucked up, Son.

His nostrils couldn’t be anymore flared.

TPKid: Humiliation is the least of your worries, Mega-Bitch! When I’m through with you, you’ll have a whole new list of concerns, like shitting into a colostomy, pissing through a catheter and breathing through an iron lung. There ain’t gonna be nuthin….NUTHIN left of you by the time I’m through….

ACE
Who’s that smiling man of fame
That’s a sex machine to all the dames?

ACE!

Can you dig it?

Who is the man of style
Who beats down all his rivals

ACE!

Right on!

You see this cat Ace is a bad mother

Shut your mouth!

Two spotlights shine down on the African American woman with giant afros located on opposite sides of the entry way. They are presently singing into standing microphones to the track of Isaac Hayes’ classic Shaft theme.

TPKid is watching this the whole time with an incredibly quizzical expression.

But I’m talking about Ace

Then we can dig it

But he’s a complicated man
And no one understands him but his woman

Ace Marshall!

Another blindingly bright spotlight brings into view the man standing on a stage with a smiley face mask concealing his face. It doesn’t take long for said mask to be removed, revealing his identity.

Ace Marshall…yes…THAT Ace Marshall. The man of renown….the SCW star of stars….the legend of legends….a man of such international superstardom he probably doesn’t even have to pay to supersize his soda. With the mask in the palm of one hand and a microphone griped in the other, the incredibly smug Marshall struts to the stage and lingers there.

Dollar: What…..the…..H? It’s….it’s…..God, my tongue doesn’t even want to say it.

It’s not like Marshall is going to give Johnny Dollar much time to run his mouth anyways. That previously mentioned microphone is raised to the sneer on Ace’s face. Though his sneer can’t even compete with the one on an unstable TPKid’s features.

Ace: Trailer Park Trash…your right….Absolutely RIGHT!

The first words spoken by Marshall on IWC surface are rather surprising.

Ace: Porno Lad, he’s an aggravation….One I know FAR too well….I can agree with you there, but where we differ regards the true root of the problem. See, Porno Lad wouldn’t be an issue if the IWC weren’t around to give him a venue to make trouble. So if you want to blame someome or something for what just happened to that metric ton of hepatitis you run around with, blame the IWC.

The intrigue shown by the crowd, turns to hatred.

Ace: And blame yourself while you’re at it, Trash. Because as a loyal IWC combatant, YOUR part of the problem. In fact, anyone who contributes to this shithole, is part of the problem. Rather it be the ‘wrestlers’ in the ring, the vendors in the back, or you people who pay money for tickets…you’re all part of the problem….you’re all helping this stank place continue to exist…..but Ace, Ace is here to solve the problem….I’m the deodorant that’s going to resolve this industry of the stench that is the IWC.

The microphone falls to the canvas and the only thing that brings a smile to Ace’s face is the grinning mask that he places back over his head. He then backs through the curtains and leaves the crowd wondering what they just saw. TPKid is just as confused, glaring around with a look of absolute puzzlement.

Dollar: I’m with everyone else. What the hell did we just see? What purpose did that just serve?

Excited doesn’t even begin to describe Kathryn Pearson’s current disposition. And obviously she’s got a LOT to be excited about.

Kathryn: Baby…this is going to be MIND-BLOWING!

With X-Class Title flung over shoulder and phone wedged to ear, Kathryn Pearson paces a corridor, looking as if she just ingested about twelve espressos.

Kathryn: Not only are we getting Taylor Chase’s Title Celebration tonight, but I get to announce YOU as my NEW tag team partner, and I get to do it TONIGHT!

Pearson is almost giddy….but said giddiness exuded via her gyrations and her words, is cause for a pause.

Kathryn: Yeah, I had two bowls of cereal for dinner….Why do you ask?

She waits for an answer.

Kathryn: No….it’s not the sugar speaking. I’m just excited. I’m so friggin pumped. Can you blame me? This is a HUGE moment for the BOTH of us. Just imagine the reaction I’m gong to get when I go out there and drop this bombshell.

Pearson continues her conversation and proceeds down the corridor while a figure…nay two figures…nay three figures….peek their heads out of an adjacent corridor. They stare around the corner, their heads in ascending vertical order…heads belonging to Polly Norah, BMW and Kordelia Price.

The Harem share contemplative expressions….a plot clearly forming in their collective minds.

A surge of excitement overcomes the audience at the sight of P Clarence Whitman III binding tape to his wrists in anticipation of his pending clash with Ba’al. He seems surprisingly comfortable to be putting the finishing touches on his attire as he stands exposed in the hallway, just outside the bathroom. The reason for his close proximity to the water closet becomes evident when the door opens and Lois Prince-Whitman exits, wiping saliva from her lips.

Whitman: Feeling better my Love?

Lois: A little…

She confesses, griping at her ailing stomach.

Lois: I just think the idea of you going up against Ba’al tonight has got the butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

Whitman: It shall be quite the life-affirming occasion, when I enter that ring and claim my manhood as well as that No Holds Barred Championship.

Lois: Cool, but you do realize that in order to win the belt you’ll probably have to use a lot of weapons and such.

This gives Whitman cause for pause.

Whitman: Hmmm….tis no never-mind to me, Lois. I have after-all, become quite proficient with the swinging of a steel chair.

Lois: That you have, that you have….And you’ve become proficient in a number of other areas as well.

She confesses while molesting his chest with her extended finger.

Simon: WHITMAN!

Clarence almost jumps right out of the attire he just put on in anticipation of his clash with Ba’al. Though he might compete in another clash, an impromptu one against Simon Cagero, who waltzes into the camera’s frame holding a boxed coffee maker under his arm. This isn’t good considering Simon might need his arms free to defend himself.

Whitman: Are you really this dense, Mr. Cagero? How many times must you be told to stay away from me before you get the point?

Simon: Are you still upset with me for screwing your mother to the point where she’ll be wheelchair bound for the rest of her life?

Whitman: Upset doesn’t even begin to describe it, Sir.

Simon: How many times do I have to apologize?

Whitman: No apologies will suffice for the slight you committed against my family and I.

Simon: Not even if I give you guys your wedding present? It’s a Keurig.

The box is extended but swatted out of Simon’s clutches, sent shattering to the floor.

Lois: CLARENCE!

The condemning tone of Lois calms Whitman down….SLIGHTLY.

Lois: You’ll have to forgive him, Simon. He’s not in a good mood, he just found out his parents were divorcing, AND he’s had some run ins with the Sinistry tonight.

Simon: Understandable. Would you like some help regarding the latter of those problems, Percival?

Whitman: No….NO….for the last time…..NO!

Lois does her very best to restrain Whitman.

Whitman: This will be my final warning….Stay away from that ring tonight….Stay away from my match against Ba’al….and stay away from me!

Whitman and Lois walk away, leaving Simon standing over the shattered microwave with a troubled expression on his face.

CASSIDY CAGE VS. MYA DENTON

Keep on trucking…toot…toot….The action rolls along with the intro track for Cassidy Cage bringing out the turncoat. The curtains part and there she is, the very woman who stabbed her Bosslady in the back at Invictus. Now she prepares to put her energies towards something BESIDES betraying her mentor.

Dollar: P. Clarence Whitman III getting fired up for his match against Ba’al later tonight, but instead we’re now seeing Cassidy Cage make her way to the ring. She’s slated to go one on one with the debuting Mya Denton up next here.

Cassidy slides into the ring and soaks in the mixed response from the crowd…..which leans more towards hatred and spite as opposed to any favorable feelings.

Dollar: Cassidy incurring quite a bit of wrath from the fans, resulting from her betrayal of Brittany Lohan at Invictus.

INVICTUS

Still frame scenes extrapolated from the closing moments of the Lohan versus Alana Starr grudge match are shown. Lohan delivers two Yakuza kicks, one taking out Alana and the other dispatching Trinity Street. It seems the Blue Eyed Devil has the win in her clutches before we see a shot of Cassidy Cage standing at ringside, crowbar in hand.

Dollar: It was during Lohan’s match against Starr that we saw Cage come out to first assault Brittany’s sister, Abigail Lindsey, and then we thought she was going to help her precious Boss-Lady, but instead she threw a crowbar into Alana.

The crowbar is tossed to the feet of Starr, who then cracks it over the back of Brittany’s neck in order to pick up the victory.

Dollar: Which led to the victory for the “Good Girl,” Alana Starr.

A smiling Cassidy just LOVES the recap that was shown on the Cartel-tron, seated on the middle rope with her arms dangling over the top cable.

Dollar: Just look at her, she knows what she cost Brittany at Invictus….her final match, and perhaps her biggest match since arriving in the IWC.

Black and Maroon strobe lights come on as “I Don’t Care” by Fall Out Boy cues up. Mya comes skipping out in a pair of jean shorts and a black t-shirt with a skull on it. She gives a fake smile and skips down to the ring before flipping over the top rope and then skips around the ring.

Dollar: I hope Cassidy isn’t totally preoccupied with what happened at Invictus, cause she’s gonna need to maintain focus on this spry young athlete debuting here tonight. Mya Denton, who is a touch ‘unorthodox.’

Mya waves affectionately towards Cassidy, who simply shakes her head and calls for the tie up. Finally the two step forward to lock in a battle of wills via the collar elbow only for Cage to suddenly stop and roll to the exterior of the ring. Before questions can be raised, Cage approaches Thomas Boll and takes the ring announcer’s microphone.

Dollar: What the hell is Cage doing now?

Cassidy: Hey Boss-Lady…..

Cage presumes that Brittany is still watching even though she is no longer with the company.

Cassidy: I’m so-sssooooooo sorry for what I dids at Invictus.

Crocodile tears are summoned.

Cassidy: I can’t believe little ole me cost you the biggest win of your IWC career. I’m just a subordinate after-all….your underling…your protégé….your Gal-Friday…your-your SLAVE!

That last description is spoken with anger.

Cassidy: I should have done everything in my power to protect you….I mean, you did everything you could to keep me safe, by having me run your errands, and do your dirty work. By having me fight your battles for you, against the likes of Alana and Amanda Blayze. According to you, my only reason for existing was to cater to your every delusional whim….So I shouldn’t have been at ringside in the first place, since you ORDERED me to stay out of your business….Since I’m not allowed to make decisions on my own, or have my own mind….

Cassidy climbs up onto the apron.

Cassidy: So again, I’m sorry Boss-Lady.

The microphone is placed on the steps and she then enters the ring just as Mya rushes across it and connects with a head scissors take-down.

Dollar: Cassidy so busy flapping her gums that it just cost her against Denton.

Cage rolls across the canvas to her feet and then scrambles across them towards Mya, who puts her opponent right back down via a spinning heel kick. Her heel nails Cassidy to the face and knocks her to the canvas, but again Cage is surging back to an upright base. She then gets up just as Denton drops her a third time via a dropkick to the sternum.

The blow knocks Cassidy to the canvas before she rolls over backwards and instead of lunging to her feet, she slides to the outside of the ring. Though it seems Cage is going for a breather, she instead exhausts herself via talking. The mic is back in her clutches and she’s right back to where she left off with her monologue.

Cassidy: But now that I think about it….oh sorry, forgot Boss-Lady, I’m not supposed to think, I’m just supposed to mindlessly follow your orders…..Anyway, now that I reminisce about our relationship, I see our relationship for what it truly was. You were using me, and all you were going to do was continue to use me. You were never going to treat me like an equal, even though my skills have surpassed your own. Let me show you.

The microphone is placed on the apron and Cage climbs the steps and slides into the ring. She just stands up when Mya comes rushing in and delivers a lariat to the throat, one that sends Cage crashing to the canvas. A stunned Cage rolls along to her feet and then eats a back elbow, putting her to her back once again. Mya rushes backwards into the ropes, ricochets off and then flips forward into the senton only to go crashing into Cage’s raised knees.

Dollar: Cassidy FINALLY putting her focus into the match and not into rubbing salt in Brittany Lohan’s wounds.

A stunned Mya sits up, reaching for her spine while Cassidy rushes into the ropes in front of her, ricochets off then throws all her body weight into a forward flipping cannonball. She doesn’t just crash into Mya’s chest upside down, but she hooks both of Denton’s legs in the process, landing into a jackknife cover.

1

2

A kick out saves Denton from a potential loss in her big IWC debut. Immediately after Mya has gotten her arm off the canvas, Cassidy takes hold of that very limb. She pulls on it and drags Denton over to her knees before subjecting her to a big kick straight to the forehead. The shot has Mya popping up to her knees, bobbing from side to side while Cassidy rushes into the ropes behind her, bounces off and dives with both knees into Denton’s back.

The moment that Mya crashes down to her face, Cassidy ascends to her feet. She eagerly approaches the ropes, reaches through them and grabs the microphone off the apron.

Cassidy: Think about it, Lohan….really look back and DWELL on our history. You would have to be blind not to see how poorly you treated me. How you took me for granted. I was willing to do anything for you, Boss-Lady, but whenever the time came for you to return the favor, you left me high and dry. Alana held a friggin knife to my throat and you did absolutely nothing about it…You didn’t even come to my rescue. Instead you hid in the crowd and waited to jump her later that night….That’s not how a friendship works, Boss-Lady.

The microphone is lowered back to the apron and Cassidy returns her focus to Denton just in time to be caught with a school girl. However, Cage twists around instead of being rolled up and drops with both knees on top of Mya’s chest. But she isn’t going for a pin, instead she’s unleashing right hand after right hand directly to Denton’s forehead.

Dollar: I don’t think there’s a single screw in Cassidy’s head that is fastened tight.

The punches continue to connect while Cassidy screams along with each blatant closed fist.

Cassidy: BRITTANY, ABIGAIL, ALANA, AMANDA!

She’s so preoccupied with inflicting punishment on Mya, that she doesn’t even realize that Denton is launching her legs into the air, wrapping them around Cage’s shoulders. Denton sits up and pulls Cage down into a sunset flip style pin.

1

2

Dollar: Denton may have caught Cage!

Cassidy manages to defy Dollar’s expectations, rolling over backwards out of the pin. However, Mya seems to be building some crucial momentum, rushing to her feet and charging right into a discus lariat delivered by Cassidy that puts Denton down to her back.

Dollar: Noooo…Denton shut right back down with that brutal clothesline.

After laying out Denton, Cassidy picks up the microphone.

Cassidy: Don’t even get me started on Abigail Lindsey. Boss-Lady, you know damn well what she did to me. How she betrayed me. How she abandoned me. Yet you continued to hang out with her, to be close with her, right in front of my eyes, right under my nose. How-how-HOW could you just flaunt your relationship with my former love? If you truly valued my friendship, you should have thrown Abigail aside in favor of me….

Cassidy turns towards Mya, who is still feeling the effects of that particularly nasty clothesline.

Cassidy: But maybe I’m just a little too close to the situation to look at it objectively. Let’s get an outsider’s perspective. Let’s find out what Mya here thinks.

Cassidy drops down beside Denton and grabs her by the bangs, holding up on her head.

Cassidy: Mya, do you think I was justified in what I did to Brittany? That it was right for me to betray my Boss-Lady after all the disrespect she showed me? Or do you think I should legitimately be sorry? Hmmm….

The microphone is held out to Mya, who is unresponsive.

Cassidy: Come on Mya, unlike Brittany, I value the opinions of others.

The microphone is held out to Mya, who does respond.

Mya: I think your ugly face is about to make me puke, and that Brittany should have broken it AGES ago.

Cassidy’s eyes light up.

Cassidy: Well….I guess we’re all entitled to our own opinion.

Mya would weigh in further, but instead she does her talking via action. She reaches up and catches Cassidy around the neck, applying a quick front chancery while wrapping her legs about Cage’s waist, establishing a body vice as well.

As the air is deprived to Cassidy’s head and the squeeze on Cage’s lungs threaten to burst them, Mya manages to reach down and grab the microphone.

Mya: Do you like it, Cass? You’re a glutton for punishment aren’t ya? If you put up with this Boss-Lady you keep rambling about for so long, you must really love misery.

Apparently Cassidy is not quite the sadomasochist Mya believes her to be, throwing right hands into Mya’s ribs in an attempt to break the hold. She eventually uses her strength to stand up and heave Mya into the air while she is still holding onto both submissions and shouting into the microphone at the same time.

Mya: The only thing anyone cares about is my debut…not your stupid little lover’s quarrel with your Boss-Lady.

The words seem to inspire Cage, who rushes across the ring and drives Mya’s spine directly into the turnbuckle, causing her to break the front chancery and the body vice. The microphone spills to the canvas and Cage quickly snatches it up while backing to the center of the ring.

Cassidy: You’re right, nobody cares about Boss-Lady, she’s gone from the IWC and she’ll never again return knowing what I have in store for her. The same thing I’m about to unleash on you. It’s time to move on.

Cassidy comes charging in and dives at Denton with a spear only to have Mya lunge into the air and avoid her. Cage’s face slams into the second turnbuckle pad and Mya lands on her back before pulling her down into the crucifix roll-up.

1

2

The crowd pops, realizing that Mya may have her, only for that thought to be nulled, and for Denton’s ambitions to be crushed. Cassidy gets a shoulder up, dropping over to her knees.

Dollar: Denton ALMOST had Cassidy! She was a fraction of a second away from winning her debut with the company.

Both athletes quickly rush to their feet but Mya is about to be taken off of her own when Cassidy comes twisting towards her into the discus lariat. A move that threatens to decapitate Mya, but instead slices the air, missing its target entirely. Denton wouldn’t be caught with the same snare twice, ducking the bicep, catching Cage around the jaw and dropping into a reverse neck-breaker.

Cassidy sits up and clutches her skull while Mya is charging into the ropes in front of her. She bounces off and throws all her weight into a crossbody on the seated Cage, driving her down into the canvas.

Dollar: Just more of that unorthodox nature being shown by Mya.

Denton hurries along to her feet, looking to capitalize on her momentum. At the same Cassidy is racing to an upright base. She stands up when Mya boots her to the ribs and takes her around the neck, spinning her around into position for another reverse neck-breaker. Just then Cassidy spins around, wedging her hands to Denton’s spine and shoving her forward into the turnbuckle.

Mya crashes chest first into the corner, staggering back into the waiting arms of her opponent. Cage rushes at her opponent’s backside, about to take advantage of the wear and tear only to have Mya catch her around the neck. She then races up the turnbuckle to the top rope and pushes off into a sliced bread number 2.

Dollar: Mya connects with the Sliced Bread…This is her big debut win…right Magic Eight Ball?

Magic 8 Ball: Reply Hazy, Ask Again Later.

Dollar: Alright, I’m through with you.

Somehow, in spite of her rattled brain, Cassidy manages to crawl into the corner, leaning forehead first against the middle turnbuckle. A fired up Mya skips around the ring at this point tussling her hair and smiling diabolically towards the crowd. The crazed Denton finally wraps her hands around Cassidy’s neck, dragging her out of the corner only to find a microphone being SLAMMED directly into Denton’s face.

The very mic that Cage has been using to drag Lohan’s name through the muck and mire, produces a different tune….that of static and the thud off of Mya’s head.

Dollar: Microphone bouncing from Mya’s skull…time for the obligatory disqualification!

The fans burst into a wave of hysterics resulting from Cassidy’s method of escaping Denton’s wrath, with the bell ringing in the arena, and in Mya’s head. Denton holds her wounded skull while Cassidy continues to hold the very microphone that inflicted these wounds.

Cassidy: Sorry Mya, you picked a bad time to make your debut.

A huffing and puffing Cage still manages to produce speech between her heavy breaths.

Cassidy: And an even worse opponent to try and make your debut against. Because I’m through being used by others.

The surprisingly docile Cage stoops towards Mya.

Cassidy: The Lohans…they used me for so long. They played off my feelings….off my love…..They used it against me….to keep me under their thumbs. But now I’m free, I’ve broken out of that abusive relationship, meaning I will NEVER again be controlled by another, not you, and not any member of the Lohan family. I’m through suffering abuse at their hands. I’m through with the Lohans peri…

But it doesn’t seem that the Lohans are through with Cassidy Cage, evident by the arrival of Abigail Lindsey. She stands on the stage with Maxine Moore directly behind her, the two staring a hole into Cassidy. The arrival of Lindsey immediately silences Cage, who drops the microphone all together. Why? To free her hands for more destructive purposes.

Dollar: Oooooh boy. Here we go. Abigail Lindsey, Cassidy Cage, same place, same time…which equals all types of bad.

Tensions mount as Cassidy stares down the sister of the very woman she screwed over at Invictus. It appears that the one on one bout between Cage and Lindsey resolved nothing. Cassidy crouches and cracks her knuckles out to her sides, ready for round two. Although she’s winded from a confrontation with Mya, the arrival of Lindsey has Cassidy inspired for yet another fight.

Dollar: Just look at the intensity on Cassidy’s face.

What’s even more intense? The gleam in Abigail’s eyes. Yes, the typical upbeat disposition has been replaced with raw aggressive emotion seeping from every of Lindsey’s pours. Maxine looks ALMOST as intense, but can’t measure up to Abigail’s level of hostility.

Hostility that compels Abigail towards the ring, looking for some vengeance on behalf of her sister.

Dollar: Here comes Lindsey. We might get an impromptu Invictus rematch.

The excitement is off the charts as the crowd anticipates just that, another confrontation between Lindsey and Cage that picks up where the two left off at Invictus.

Suspense and hype builds as Abigail methodically approaches the ring, every muscle tensed in anticipation of getting her hands around Cassidy’s throat.

And Cassidy is ready for a potential strangulation as well as so much more. But Abigail brings more than even Cassidy could anticipation, sliding into the ring then finally colliding with Cage in the middle of it.

Dollar: HERE WE GO!

Almost instantly Abigail takes Cassidy down to the canvas via a double inside leg trip. Cage collapses to her back and Lindsey is right on top of her, throwing forearm after forearm to her face.

Fans: YAAAAH.

Cassidy suddenly switches positions, ending up on top of Abigail and connecting with her own forearms.

Fans: BOOOO!

The brawl continues with Maxine standing at ringside to ward off anyone who might interfere, be it security or whatever other force would be stupid enough to get in the way.

Dollar: Abigail getting revenge for her sister…and Cage out to avail herself of the Lohans forever.

The two roll around on the canvas unleashing all their pint up furies upon one another amidst a rousing roar of approval from the sold out Manhattan Center crowd. Fans are excitedly leaping about as kicks, slaps, forearms and knees are delivered, every limb employed to inflict damage

At last security does intervene, a battalion of guards flooding the ring to pull these two off of one another.

Dollar: Finally Security shows up….Where the hell have these guys been lately?

The yellow shirted officials barrel down the ramp only for two of them to be subjected to lariats from Maxine.

Another finds their chin crushed by a big boot from Moore. Yet in spite of Maxine’s offensive barrage on the army of security guards, several are able to slip past her and into the ring. They surround Abigail and Cassidy, exhaustively trying to pry the two apart.

Dollar: Security finally getting involved, but can they quell the passions of these heated adversaries? I think not.

In spite of Maxine’s attempts to keep security from doing their job, there is just too many of them to hold back on her own. They manage to subdue her, and attempt to do the same to the brawling ladies in the ring….but it seems to be a task better handled by the National Guard.

Kyle: Where the hell is it? This is like trying to find a straight guy in the crowd at a Katie Perry concert.

Gavin: Just keep looking.

The door leading to Silverstone Inc’s dressing room can be seen, and the words exchanged between Taylor and Black can be heard beyond it. The lock has finally been picked and now Chase Global is inside, where there is nothing standing between them and the Evolution Title belt.

Kyle: I found it…I FOUND IT!

Gavin: Awesome…quick, fork it over and let’s get out of here.

Kyle: Hold on….

Gavin: What now?

Kyle: I’m gonna take a poop in Andre’s gym-bag?

Gavin: Whhhhyyy?

Kyle: Why not?

Andre: So have you seen Robert?

Tabitha Silverstone and Andre Jordan are making their way back towards their locker-room at long last.

Silverstone: No time, Andre, been too preoccupied with you.

Andre: Yeah, guess that meeting with the Nike reps went a little longer than we anticipated.

Silverstone: It’s to be expected. At the very least we got everything squared away, and I must say it was nice for them to meet us here.

Andre: True…and now that we’ve got that taken care of, how about that other deal you arranged without my consultation?

Tabitha: Honestly Andre, you’re gonna love it….

Andre: You really need to talk to me about these things though…

Tabitha: Hold on.

Andre: What?

The half opened door leading to their locker-room is finally acknowledged.

Tabitha: I thought…I thought I locked that door.

Andre: Maybe you just thought you did.

Tabitha: No…I’m for certain I locked it.

Andre: How can you be so sure? You’ve had so much on your plate tonight….

This question is cut off the moment Andre spots the hooded Kyle Black exiting.

Andre: Da hell is this?

Kyle almost leaps out of his skin, his shades falling off his nose.

Kyle: Oh crap-oh crap-oh crap….GAVIN!

Before the warning can continue, Andre rushes across the hall and grabs Kyle about his windpipe, silencing him. Just then the door behind Jordan opens and Taylor rushes into the hall, smacking the Evolution title off of Jordan’s skull.

Tabitha: What the hell are the two of you doing? SECURITY!!

Jordan holds his aching skull while Gavin stoops over him, letting the title dangle from his clutches.

Gavin: If the corrupt officials around here won’t do what’s right, and YOU won’t do what’s right, then it’s up to me to be the sole source of reason. THIS title is MINE…and I’m taking it back right friggin now!

Grand larceny has just been committed by the fleeing Taylor and Black…Though assault is the more serious offence, especially considering that Andre, bell now rung by the shot to the skull, is expected to compete against Chase Global in a matter of moments. Tabitha knows this all too well, hence the distress in her eyes as she stoops down beside her addled client.

INVICTUS

Susie: This is cray-cray!

The description is more than accurate.

Still photographs show Ba’al corkscrewing over the top rope onto a pile of bodies down below.

Dollar: So much on the line here tonight at our biggest show.

The big dive made by Jackson Adams to the outside of the ring is caught in freeze frame, as he attempts to splash Aerik Walker stretched across a table.

Dollar: We’re seeing everyone put their all into capturing immortality.

A beautiful image of Abigail Lindsey flipping through the air into the Serenity Now.

Susie: Nothing makes a bigger statement than a win at Invictus.

Another shot, and another dive, this one featuring Romeo performing a standing back flip over the top rope onto his opponents in the four way.

Dollar: Everyone bringing their best on this auspicious night.

Alana Starr’s crossbody from the middle rope unto Brittany Lohan with her back wedged to a barricade is captured, taking both ladies into the crowd.

The excitement exuded by Kathryn Pearson is infectious, hence why the fans are going bananas at the sight of her. They are even more thrilled at the prospect that Pearson is going to be entering the ring shortly, a fact she brags about to the individual on the other end of her phone.

Kathryn: Listen, I don’t care how cute Channing Tatum is looking in his underwear….stop drooling and change the channel, cause you’re not going to want to miss a moment of this, Babe. I’m like inches from the entry way as we speak, and in seconds, I’ll be right there in the middle of the ring to announce YOU as my partner at Extreme Fury.

Kordy: Kordy don’t play that.

Pearson stops dead in her tracks when Kordelia Price steps up in front of her, holding a led pipe.

Kathryn: I’ll call you back.

The phone is hung up so that Pearson can use her hands for something more important, defending herself.

Kathryn: Kordy-Kordy-Kordy….you don’t want to do this.

Kordy: Me? Don’t you mean, WE?

Pearson can feel the hot breath of Polly Norah on the nape of her neck. From the corner of her eye she catches a glimpse of BMW and the shimmering chain wrapped around her knuckles.

Kordy: Kordy didn’t come alone you tattooed bimbo.

The Harem closes in around Pearson, yet she will show no fear.

Fans: LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT! LET THEM FIGHT!!

Security WOULD do that, but they have their marching orders tonight, and it’s to keep Abigail and Cassidy from murdering each other. Maxine is pinned against a barricade by several guards, while a number of others have finally pulled Cassidy and Abigail into opposing corners. They struggle for all their worth, but neither lady can burst from the constraining hands of the guards.

Dollar: Security STILL fighting to keep these ladies under control and establish some semblance of order tonight.

Naturally, neither Abigail NOR Cassidy are making this easy. Somehow Cage manages to break free, rush across the ring and dive unto Abigail. Fists are flung between both ladies as they spill into the turnbuckle.

Dollar: They just can’t keep these two off of one another.

It takes some doing, but security at last breaks Abigail and Cassidy off of one another, forcing them into opposing corners. This separation doesn’t last very long, because Abigail now manages to squirm out of the clutches of the guards, rush across the ring and drive her shoulder into Cassidy’s ribs, knocking her into the ropes. The two are unleashing everything…all of their rage upon one another…Rage only ceased by the intrusion of security. It takes all of their energies to pry the two apart, forcing Abi back and Cassidy out of the ring.

Dollar: Security finally getting these two under control…for all of about ten seconds at least.

Cassidy thrashes around, trying to get back into the ring where she can inflict further punishment on the Lohans who have ‘victimized’ her for so long. Lindsey would love for her to TRY, shouting at her to bring all that rage into the ring so the two can finally resolve this. That becomes an impossibility though, thanks to another intrusion….not provided by security this time.

Said intrusive force is Mya Denton, who refuses to become a mere afterthought. Though she had operated with some discretion throughout this whole brawl, flying under the radar at ringside, she prepares for a flight that WILL be recognized and leave a lasting impression.

Cassidy and the security binding her at ringside, look up just in time to spot Mya flying off the top of a turnbuckle and crashing into the very woman who struck her with the microphone. A big crossbody transforms Mya into a bowling ball, knocking down Cassidy and the battalion of security like they were bowling pins.

Dollar: DENTON! Mya Denton….Revenge for Cassidy striking her with that microphone!

The Manhattan Center has come unglued as Mya twists down to the ramp and off the list of victims subjected to the crossbody. But one of these victims, Cassidy, won’t stay down amongst the pile for very long. She scrambles to her feet and away from security, turning her wrath from Abi to the woman who refused to go unnoticed. Mya and Cage now begin to exchange shots as they go twisting to the backstage.

Dollar: I suddenly see why security has just stopped interfering in this violence, they’re absolutely useless. No force on earth can keep these ladies off of one another.

Even Abigail has managed to shed the palms of the guards who were getting far too touchy feely with her. As they continue to surround her, she warns them about a potential sexual harassment lawsuit should their hands get any closer to her private regions.

Alana: Take your hands off of her.

The request is made by Alana Starr, the ‘Good Girl’ stepping to the stage alongside Lucas Knight, the number one contender. The two of them clutch microphones and wear condescending expressions on their faces.

Dollar: And now Chase Global is out here…why…..who knows…and who cares at this point?

Alana: And then get your bubble butt backsides out of the ring….As Abigail and I, we’ve got a little unfinished business to attend to.

Security begins to disperse, realizing that Alana and Abigail are scheduled to be part of a tag team confrontation tonight.

Knight: Abi, dear….I hope you realize that what’s about to happen to you, is a product of your own design.

Abigail scowls at Lucas, but imagines doing far worse to him.

Knight: If you hadn’t been such a spoiled egg and shattered a glass over Alana’s head, we all could have coexisted peacefully. But you showed your true colors in that restaurant all those weeks ago.

Alana: Yeah, you demonstrated that you are NOT a good person….That your just like your sister, Brittany, an evil little whore.

Knight: We could almost forgive you for assaulting Alana with the glass, but when you TRIED to interfere in her match at Invictus…well Abi, that just crossed the line.

Alana: And there’s no going back now. You’ve brought the wrath of the good people down on your evil bleached blond head.

Knight: I guess you can bring a referee on out here and we can get this tag team match underway.

Alana: We’ll at last put Lohan and everyone associated with her behind us…And then we can devote our focus towards that BIG celebration planned for tonight.

Knight: Yes, we wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Knight and Alana start towards the ring.

Dollar: I guess that tag team grudge match we were scheduled to see later tonight is happening right now. And did Lucas and Alana just insinuate that they’re going to be part of Taylor Chase’s Title celebration tonight?

Lindsey pivots between feet and prepares for a potential handicap confrontation, seeing as she’s presently surrounded by both members of Chase Global with no back-up in sight.

Dollar: Abigail Lindsey unto an island by herself, with no Andre Jordan here to back her up after an assault from Gavin Taylor backstage. Are we going to see Lindsey versus Chase Global all by lonesome?

Security is apparently needed all over the building tonight.

Kathryn Pearson’s back hits a brick wall, being held against it by the steel bar wedged to her throat. All of Polly’s power is summoned to keep Pearson wedged in place, her grip tightening on the steel that strangles the X-Class Champion. BMW holds Kathryn’s hands in place, forcing them back against the wall.

Kordy: Kordy could have Polly crush your scrawny little chicken neck, Kat…

In leans Kordelia, putting her elbow to the very wall that Kathryn is being forced against.

Kordy: But Kordy won’t do that…not to someone so pretty…

She pats Pearson on the top of her head, and even with Kathryn’s throat being squished by the steel bar the X-Class Champion still manages to defiantly pull away from the condescending pat.

Kordy: Kordy just want to warn you, Kat, that’s all….

Kathryn: Your messing with the wrong person….

Further pressure is exerted on Kathryn’s throat, silencing her.

Kordy: Kordy is speaking now, so you be quiet and listen….mmmmkay?

Kathryn has no choice at this point, suffocated by the constriction of her esophagus.

Kordy: Kat needs to know that the Harem doesn’t like surprises, especially when it effects OUR Tag Team Titles….and OUR standing with the master, Porno Lad.

She swoons at the mere mention of Porno Lad’s name.

Kordy: Soooo…no secret tag team partners, mmmkay?

Kathryn: Kiss my….

Kordy: Hey now, careful saying that around Polly, she just might do it, with her total lesbo crushes and all.

God how Polly would like to speak up, but can’t do so given her forced vow of silence.

Kordy: Actually, how about you go ahead and give Kat a little love tap Polly?

The orders are followed to the letter. A giant knee launches directly into Pearson’s ribs, deflating her lungs of oxygen and potentially shattering a rib or two. The strike has her doubled over, clutching at her mid-section.

Kordy: You’ve been warned, Kat. You and your little buddy…

The phone Pearson was talking on is lifted from the ground.

Kordy: Would be better off staying out of the Harem’s business….got it? Goody!

A hip is swung into the cheek of Pearson, knocking her to the floor. Kordy delivers a pelvic thrust that puts the X-Class Champion on her back.

Kordy: Ciao, Kat!

Kordy tosses the phone down on top of Pearson’s chest as she TRIES to collect herself.

The punisher of the means, Robert, presently flips through the pages of the Mnooseville Charter, checking many of the laws and the bi-laws contained within. He seems to be thoroughly enthralled as he reads the very words he’s already examined a thousand times before. And the only force that can compel him to turn away from his ‘bible’ is…

Jaina Frost: Mr. Robert…can I trouble you for a moment?

Robert’s eyes tear away from the text to take into view one of the greatest of means, Ba’al’s equally as twisted sister.

Robert: How dare you disgrace my name by uttering it you self-righteous philistine.

Jaina: I apologize for interrupting your reading.

Robert: Tis not all you shall be sorry for…

He snaps his fingers and at once one of the cloaked mnooses enters the frame and takes the Mnooseville Charter.

Robert: Hurry this along to Robert’s private dressing quarters and protect it as if it were your parsley patch.

The silent figure nods and hurries down the corridor.

Robert: Now as for you….

Turning back to Jaina.

Robert: Pick your words wisely, for they may be your last.

Jaina: I bring you tidings from my beloved brother, Ba’al.

Robert: What devilry do you speak?

Jaina: He merely wanted to wish you luck regarding your impending clash with Legion on NewAge.

Robert: Do not attempt to manipulate Robert, you vile castrating woman.

Jaina: Bitte beruhigen Sie eigene.

Jaina’s hands elevate and employ a defensive posture.

Jaina: Believe it or not,you and Ba’al, the two of you share a common goal.The punishment of the means….

Robert: Lord of Flies and Robert, share no similiarities.

Jaina: You know that’s not the truth, Robert. You are far more alike than you care to believe. For Ba’al, he wants to persecute the sinful….and who is more sinful than the very means that shattered the realm of your precious Mnooseville?

Robert now listens, in spite of his reservations.

Jaina: And the worse mean of them all…the greatest defiler of the Mnooses….Legion.

Robert: What does Legion have to do with any of this?

Jaina: He is an evil, benevolant force, Robert, you know this to be true. It’s his negative influence that has distorted and destroyed your precious world inhabited by your prized Mnooses. Something must be done….and you have the power to see it done on NewAge.

Her peace has been said, and Jaina parts ways with the blubbery brute. This information gives him quite a bit to dwell upon.

ANDRE JORDAN & ABIGAIL LINDSEY VS. LUCAS KNIGHT & ALANA STARR

We come back just in time to catch Abigail Lindsey running at the ropes and sending Lucas scurrying from the apron. Alana tries to enter the ring behind her, but Abigail turns and cuts her off. She sends Starr sliding from the squared circle, dropping to the mats and convening with her precious Knight.

Dollar: Lucas Knight and Alana Starr just toying with Abi….We’re back ladies and gents, just in time to catch Abigail in a very tenuous situation. She’s fighting an uphill battle against two opponents, with no relief in sight. Her partner, Andre still suffering from that shot with the Evolution Title belt. So it looks like she’s going alone.

The tension is as thick as Kristie Alley’s waist. And the only way to relieve said tension? Through good ole fashion fisticuffs.

After a brief strategy session at ringside, Knight and Starr break their huddle and approach the ring, climbing up onto the aprons. Abigail continues to turn from side to side, knuckles tightly wound in anticipation of connecting with anybody who dare to enter. With Maxine removed from ringside by security, Abigail is truly left to her own devices.

Starr and Knight look to take advantage of this, scaling the aprons and tentatively throwing their legs through the ropes. They are both about to enter and overwhelm Abigail before…..”We Own It” plays over the PA system and inspires a pop….a pop that threatens to empty bowls.

Dollar: What in the…? Andre Jordan?

The crowd parts and Jordan makes his way through them, still holding the back of his neck and the hematoma that has formed on his skull. Words of warning are provided by Tabitha Silverstone, trying and failing to rationalize with her client.

Dollar: Yep, there he be…Andre Jordan…who obviously doesn’t realize just how stupid he’s being right now in coming out here. This is dumber than the bees scene in Wicker Man.

In spite of being cracked in the head with his own title belt, Andre still manages to leap the barricade and thoroughly disrupt the plans of Chase Global.

Both Knight and Starr drop to the mats and immediately begin to mutter every single curse word known to man….and then some. Abigail was ready to battle these two on her own, but is understandably relieved to have some back up. She smiles towards Dre as he comes sliding into the ring, leaping to his feet and still looking spry in spite of recent ailments.

Dre isn’t the only one sliding in at this point, so is official Fitzpatrick, who calls for the bell to commence this tag match, even though Chase Global obviously isn’t ready. Their gameplan has been radically redesigned in light of recent events.

Dollar: Poor Chase Global, they THOUGHT they had Abigail all to themselves, but Andre just threw a MAJOR monkey wrench into their plans. And speaking of monkeys, can Susie Moore PLEASE be replaced by one? Preferablly a monkey smoking a cigar that has the occasisonal wise crack? I need SOMETHING out here because this blasted Magic 8 Ball just ain’t cuttin’ the mustard.

At last Starr and Knight get over this recent disruption to their plot and begin to climb up onto the apron. Although he took a nasty bump on the noggin, Andre STILL wants to start this bout on behalf of his team. But he might regret that decision when he turns to find himself staring across the ring at Alana…

Dollar: Some psychological warfare by Chase Global….Alana Starr, Andre’s former ‘friend,’ giving Jordan pause for the moment at least.

For the first time, Andre doesn’t want to get physical with Alana…*wink, wink.*

The bell chimes nevertheless and Alana immediately starts to pepper Jordan, not with blows, but with insults.

Alana: Come on THUG….Time for you to finally prove that you can….

She looks down at his ‘lower extremities.’

Alana: Measure up.

Dre’s face begins to twitch with hostility.

Alana: What’s wrong, Dre? Ooooh, I know what this is….performance anxiety.

She turns her head to a laughing Lucas in the corner.

Alana: He’s had problems with that in the past.

Just as her eyes turn back towards Jordan, she finds herself glaring at a totally different target. Abigail has tagged Andre and is taking retribution on his behalf. She barrels across the ring and drives her shoulder directly into a stunned Alana with a spear.

Alana collapses to the canvas with Abigail landing beside her and then applying a quick side headlock. Several big punches are delivered directly to Starr’s forehead as she unleashes rapid fire punches.

Dollar: Abigail working off her aggressions from her brawl with Cassidy, and taking it out on Starr.

Aggression takes the form of fist after fist delivered right into Alana’s forehead, creating some blemishes Starr will no doubt need extensive makeup to cover up. She avails herself of this potential disfigurement, shoving the fists from her face and rolling away from Lindsey.

Abi is not only out to avenge the slights Starr has committed against her but against Brittany AND Andre. So yeah, she’s fighting for a lot of people…hence why she’s ramming her shoulder into the ribs of Alana and powering her into the turnbuckle. Starr crashes into it and her limbs lose dexterity, giving her no defense from the boot wedged to her throat. Lindsey holds the top cable and wedges her shoe under Alana’s throat, strangling her.

Starr’s own feet are kicking beneath her as the air is deprived to her brain.

Dollar: Abigail is so aggressive. It’s like someone hit her with a dose of gamma radiation. I wonder what Lindsey would like with a Lou Ferrigno physique.

The boot retracts from Alana’s throat and the knee comes crashing into her ribs. Starr doubles over before being stood up straight by Abigail, who unloads with a knife edge chop across the sternum. Abigail then takes the Good Girl by the back of her head and rushes out of the corner, delivering a one handed bulldog that slams her face into the canvas.

A stunned Starr flips to her back and Abigail leaps to her feet, ready to inflict further damage. But instead she finds HERSELF on the receiving end of brutality. A lariat nails Abi to the throat, and it equals all types of devastating, a lariat delivered by Knight.

Dollar: Come on Lucas, COME ON!

Referee Fitzpatrick is about to jump all over Lucas, but instead Knight is jumping over the ropes and to the apron. He then grabs the tag rope, holding it up and pointing at it, implying that he’s following the rules. The official still gives him a verbal slap on the wrist, though Abigail is about to suffer worse than a simple slap.

Alana gets back to her feet, takes off into the ropes, ricochets off and delivers a leg drop across her opponent’s throat. She then scrambles to her feet, bounces off the cables and delivers a second leg drop, then proceeds to connect with a third. Abigail finds it harder and harder to breath thanks to these repeated leg drops, and has an even more difficult time drawing oxygen into her lungs when Alana puts her knee to Lindsey’s throat.

She keeps it wedged there for several moments while the official is still jaw jacking with Lucas, who intentionally distracts the referee with nonsensical topics.

Knight: I’m telling you….the ending to How I Met Your Mother was a complete let-down.

Fitzpatrick: I thought it was wonderfully sentimental.

This pop culture conversation ends when Fitzpatrick spots the blatant cheating performed by the good person. When she’s spotted, and shouted at, Alana removes her knee and takes Abigail by the hand, shaking it as a FORCED display of respect. That’s not the only thing FORCED, so is her toothy smile flashed at the official.

Dollar: Oh please. No one is buying your act Alana.

After pretending to follow the rules, Alana grabs Abigail by the bangs, pulls her up to her seat then delivers a quick punch to her face. The shot knocks Lindsey onto her back and Alana takes off into the ropes, ricocheting off then delivering a leg drop across the throat. She leaps to her feet, rushes into the cables, bounces off and delivers a second leg drop. Once more she’s ricocheting off the cables and going for a third leg drop…going for…but not connecting with. The moment her leg descends towards Lindsey’s throat, Abigail catches it just before it connects.

Alana falls to her seat to complete the move but Abigail has grabbed hold of her ankle and her knee, rolling over backwards to her feet. She forces Starr over to her stomach and applies the ankle lock to a sphincter tightening eruption from the crowd.

Dollar: Nice counter by Abi….but hold your britches!

Abigail knows she’s got Alana right where she wants her…Abigail knows she’s hurting Alana….Abigail knows victory might just hinge on this very submission hold….But what Abigail doesn’t know is that when Alana went for the third leg drop, Lucas made a blind tag to his partner’s shoulder. And that tag allows Knight to swoop in behind Lindsey, grab her by the arms and force her up into the Monarchy Rules.

Dollar: Abigail going to be finished off mere seconds after Knight’s blind tag.

Which would happen if Lucas actually connected with the move, which he doesn’t, considering Abigail manages to extend her foot towards Andre, even when trapped in the vertibreaker position. A slap is delivered to the extended foot and then Jordan grabs hold of it, pulling down on the ankle and dragging Abigail over the ropes to the apron.

Lucas then spins around just as Abigail AND Andre simultaneously leap over the ropes into shoulder tackles. Both of Knight’s pecs suffer equally, knocking him to the canvas and sending him rolling backwards towards Alana.

Starr steps in behind Lucas and snatches him around the waist, helping him up to his feet. The two members of Chase Global are just collecting themselves before they are shattered. With her opponents going belly to back, Abigail manages to swoop in behind them, take them both around their heads, charge them at the ropes and leap feet first into the top cable. She pushes off, twists and delivers a double springboard bulldog.

Dollar: Abigail taking out both members of Chase Global…yippee.

Lindsey rolls out of the ring and lets Andre pick up where she left off, and Alana exits hoping that Knight can get things back on track for their tream.

Knight is just getting to his feet when Andre steps in and takes advantage of his stooped posture. He takes Lucas about his neck and pulls him in for the Opinion Changer. The Pedigree is on the cusp of being delivered before Alana reaches into the ring and takes Knight by the ankle. She pulls down on it and drags Knight not only out of position for the pedigree but to the exterior of the ring. He ends up on the apron with Alana leaping up behind him. The two then take the top rope and lunge over the cables simultaneously, going for stereo shoulder blocks.

Both of Dre’s pecs, do not suffer at all. He ducks down out of the way as Knight and Starr fly over top of him. They tuck their heads before hitting the canvas, allowing them to roll straight unto their feet. Alana’s momentum carries her forward into the ropes, which are being low bridged by Abigail, causing Starr to go flying over them and crashing to the outside mats.

Lucas’ momentum carries him to his feet, which he scrambles across and uses to drill a now upright Lindsey to the cheek with a yakuza kick. The shot sends Abi crashing to the outside mats.

Knight keeps his leg dangling over the top rope, taking a moment to smile over Lindsey’s plight. This proves costly though, considering it opens the door for Dre, who rushes in behind Lucas, hooks that leg still hanging over the cable and uses it to heave him up into the air. Before Knight has a chance to respond he’s being dropped across Andre’s knee with a leg hook back breaker.

Dollar: Knight forced to pay for that big boot on Abigail…by having his big butt crushed by that back breaker. Good lord, did I just make a derriere reference? I’m turning into Susie Moore.

Knight’s spine has collapsed as he flips over to his knees, and now his skull is about to suffer the same fate. Andre steps in and takes him around the neck, snapping back into a high impact DDT. Lucas’ head ricochets from the canvas and then flops along with the rest of his body unto his back.

Dre gives his opponent further cause to flop by putting repeated boots into his body. He then takes Knights hair into his clutches, drags him up to his feet in a side headlock and begins to deliver punch after punch on the trapped skull of his opponent.

Jordan then begins to take off into the ropes with the side headlock still established only to have Knight shove him off.

Andre takes off into the cables and then has his head almost taken off via a roundhouse kick from Starr.

From the apron she leaps into the air, launching her shin over the ropes and into Jordan’s temple.

Dollar: Andre might have qualms about putting his hands on Alana, but she has no trouble putting her legs into Jordan’s skull.

The stiff shot has knocked Jordan backwards into the waiting arms of his adversary. Knight takes him around the waist and snaps back into the bridging German suplex.

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Jordan kicks out, prompting Knight to roll to his side, dragging Andre around with both arms still locked about his waist. Both men stand up and then Knight heaves Dre up into the back drop suplex only to yank down on the shin, pulling him down into the canvas face first.

The modified face buster causes Jordan to ricochet back up to his feet, albeit doubled over, a posture Knight takes instant advantage of.

He ricochets off the cables beside Jordan and then lunges into the air, catching him with a famouser. Jordan is driven face first into the ring, bouncing off and back up to his elbows and knees. Just then Lucas bounces off the cables opposite to the ones he ricocheted off of. He then lunges into the air, wedges a boot to the back of Andre’s head and delivers a modified curb stomp.

Dollar: Knight with a lethal barrage of blows. I think that shot from the Evolution Title belt moments ago is starting to take its toll at this point.

Once again Andre’s face bounces off of the canvas, causing him to pop up to his knees, though not for long. Lucas steps in, takes him around the neck, heaving him up from his knees and into a vertical suplex. Instead Knight just drops forward though, slamming Dre down directly onto his face. The inverted suplex inflicts great harm on Jordan, almost driving his nose back into his brain.

Knight keeps hold of the neck and then rolls to his side, pulling Jordan along with him and back to his knees. A side headlock is applied and used to drag Jordan towards Chase Global’s corner. This puts him in position for lethal slaps delivered by Alana.

Alana: You should have treated me like a goddess. You should have treated me like a queen. But you just kept letting me down…..You just kept disappointing me.

Another huge slap to the increasingly red flesh on Andre’s cheek….a result of both the blows Alana delivers, and the rage growing inside of Jordan.

Knight keeps the side headlock applied, dragging Jordan away from the wrath of Starr and then subjecting him to a headlock driver. The top of Jordan’s head slams with skull shattering results.

Dollar: Knight is continuing to work over Jordan’s head…the wisest thing I’ve seen since someone put Amber Heard’s face on my television screen. So many bottles of lubricant have been sacrificed since then.

And Knight just continues to pulverize Jordan’s skull….actually, he looks to crush it entirely via the spike piledriver. He drags Andre’s head into position and then takes him around the waist before hearing a scream emanate from behind him.

Lucas smirks in reaction to Alana’s demands for a tag.

Alana: Let me do it…Pretty-pretty please!

That grin on Knight’s face only gets wider as he reciprocates the tag, letting Alana satiate her need to cripple her ex ‘lover.’ Just as she steps into the ring, Lucas is already throwing Jordan’s head into her clutches. She puts him in position for the piledriver, dragging him to the center of the ring and throwing her arms out to her sides.

Knight: Savor this moment, Dre, that’s the last time you’ll ever be between those legs.

Alana: And this time, you won’t be leaving satisfied….Instead it’s MY satisfaction that matters for once.

All of her strength is employed to heave Jordan into the air and cripple the Evolution Champion entirely. But weight is shifted and the tide is turned. Andre drops back down to his feet, rooting them to the canvas, then stands up straight, wedging his hands to Alana’s hips and throwing her back. Starr flies across the ring and shifts her own weight, landing on her feet. She then goes rushing towards Jordan, swinging her palm towards his cheek.

A palm that connects with Jordan’s forearm. Alana’s face twists into an expression of shock as she finds her hand swatted aside and Andre’s hands pulling her into a big kiss on the lips.

Dollar: Hhhheeeey, Andre frenching Starr!

The kiss persists just long to stop Alana from flailing her limbs, and kicking her legs. She succumbs, succumbs to the power of the Andre’s lips.

At long last the kiss is broken, Jordan stepping back and looking into the half opened eyes of a smiling Alana.

Andre: Are you satisfied?

The words manage to snap Starr out of it.

Alana: You PERV!

She rushes right in…right into the Thrill Ride. Jordan finally puts the moves on Alana….just not with a kiss or other such romantic embrace, instead it’s via the sit-out spine-buster. Jordan then lunges to his feet after delivering the blow and spots a vengeful Knight charging in.

Knight: You sick freak, don’t you ever violate my woman again!

Instead its Lucas who is violated via a drop toe hold that puts him down onto Alana in a 69 position.

Dollar: Oh goodness….I think I might need a bathroom break.

The crowd chuckles, along with Jordan, who turns and spots his opponents in this position, enticing some laughter from the Evolution Champion. Tabitha screams at him from ringside and incites him to action.

Jordan steps in and grabs Lucas by the arms, heaving him up and into position for the Opinion Changer, one that would dump him directly on top of Alana.

The Pedigree is on the cusp of connecting, but Alana lifts her feet into the air, wedges them to Lucas’ chest and keeps him from being dragged down into Dre’s finisher. She then pushes back with all her strength, freeing Knight from the pedigree and sending him twisting into the ropes. Dre is also pushed back, landing against the ropes before he can collapse to the canvas. At the same time Knight is spiraling into the opposite ropes, landing across the top cable chin first. Just then Abigail rushes across the apron and delivers a yakuza kick directly to Knight’s temple.

The vengeful blow sends Lucas spiraling yet again, turning towards the ring where he’s subjected to a short arm spinning powerslam by Andre.

Dollar: Abigail just set Knight up for the Get Got!

And the Get Got has set Knight up for another destructive move, this time unleashed by Abigail.

She doesn’t wait for a tag to be made, sliding into the ring then rushing across it. She leaps to the middle rope, springs off and delivers the moonsault across Lucas’ chest the moment that Andre rolled out of position.

All of the air has been deflated from Lucas’ lungs…but even THAT isn’t good enough….not for Jordan. He leaps over his opponent and his partner, charges at the turnbuckle, leaps up onto it and then dives off into his own moonsault. He catches tremendous air before slamming into Lucas’ ribs.

Dollar: Moonsaults…moonsaults….moonsaults galore!

The repeated dives have Knight thrashing about on the canvas and Alana racing to avenge him. She steps towards Dre and Abigail and catches them both before they can stand up. She takes them around their necks and sets up for a stereo DDT.

Alana: Good things happen to good pe…

Or so would be the case IF Starr were actually a good person.

Alana finds out what a person like herself gets when Abigail sweeps her legs out from under her. Andre staggers back and Abigail stands up straight holding the creases of Alana’s knees. She then drops back and catapults Starr through the air, launching her directly into Jordan’s waiting clutches. Dre catches her across his chest and swings around into the spinning powerslam.

Dollar: Nice continuity shown by Abigail and Andre culminating with another Get Got. You would think these two have been working together for ages.

Alana’s spine and ego both take a crushing from this move.

Andre then gets to his feet, or more accurately is pulled to his feet by Knight.

Lucas steps in and grabs him around the neck, dragging his head under his seat and then hooking both of his arms. In spite of the numerous moonsaults he suffered, Lucas still manages to grin as he sets up for Andre’s own finishing move.

Dollar: Knight’s gonna hit the pedigree fittingly on Dre.

That’s the plan…but not one that works in Knight’s benefit. Lucas finds his legs being swept out from under him, his back hitting the canvas and Jordan launching him into the air with a catapult. Lucas goes airborne just as Abigail does the same, springing off the middle rope and twisting into a roundhouse kick on the flying Knight. Quite a bit of turbulence has been created and Knight has no time to put down the landing gear as he crashes into the canvas.

Dollar: More tag team work between Abigail and Andre. You would think these two have been teaming for ages.

An excited Tabitha watches form ringside as her client Jordan, and Abigail dish out tons of damage on Chase Global.

Dre and Abi get to their feet and then launch their boots into the air, connecting at the same time with the ribs of a staggering Alana. She is doubled over and Jordan steps behind Abi, the two setting up for another tag team move.

Lindsey locks in a front chancery on Alana then leaves her into the vertical suplex, about to drop her on top of the waiting shoulders of Andre so they can connect with a suplex and powerbomb combination.

Alana flips over though and lands on her feet right in front of Dre, who delivers a kick to her gut and then hooks both of her arms. He’s going for the Opinion Changer for a second time, and he’s determined to deliver it this time. He then heaves Alana into the air, and that’s where things go horribly awry. Alana extends her feet and wedges them to Abigail’s back, simultaneously kicking her into the ropes at the same time that she pushes off. Starr launches herself up onto the shoulders of Jordan then snaps back into the hurricarana with a pin.

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The Good Girl is about to have a big win….only to have Jordan kick out by method of sitting up and sending Starr rolling over backwards. She ends up on her feet, though not for long, thanks to Abigail, who rushes in behind Starr, leaps into the air and connects with the back stabber.

Dollar: So much back and forth, give and take in this match. So many personal issues coming to a head here tonight.

Alana bounces off of the elevated knees of Abigail….elevated knees that lead to her detriment. Lucas steps in from behind, grabs her raised legs and uses them to roll her over backwards into a wheelbarrow. He heaves her up into the air and then catches her by the arms, flipping her over backwards into a release dragon suplex.

Dollar: BRUTAL! Abigail dumped right on top of her head!

Abigail spills under the ropes to the outside of the ring while Lucas staggers to his feet, definitely feeling the ill effects of this very physical match. He just starts to stand up when Andre swoops in from behind, catching him around the arm and the thigh, setting for the Tide Turner.

Dollar: Andre is about to hit the same move that put Kyle Black away at Invictus….Will it work again here tonight?

Jordan heaves Lucas into the air only to have him squirm free at the last second, dropping down to his feet behind Dre’s back. He then shoves his opponent directly into the ropes, Dre hitting them chest first just as Abigail launches a shin over the ropes, going for a kick to the face. This time Andre catches her foot though before it can be driven into his face. He then turns around and drags Alana by the leg into the ring, setting up for an Alabama Slam.

He pulls down on the legs and sends Starr crashing towards the canvas only to have Knight rush and catch Alana around the waist. He keeps her from hitting the ring and now supports her, holding Alana up and helping her collect herself when Andre rushes in and swings around them. He takes both Knight’s AND Starr’s arms, puts his head beneath them and then heaves them both into the Tide Turner….a double Angle Slam connecting.

Dollar: OH WOW! Please excuse me while I man-gasm!

The crowd is just as stunned and slack jawed as Dollar at the sight of a move they’ve NEVER seen before. Both Chase Global members are reeling from this move and Andre is looking to take advantage. He grabs Knight by the arm, drags him into his shoulders and then dives forward into the Finley Roll. Knight crashes hard into the canvas and Jordan rolls along right into the turnbuckle, lunging on top of it. He plants his feet then flips back into the moonsault onto….NOTHING but canvas. Knight rolls out of the way just in time, refusing to be hit with this move a second time.

Dre bounces off of the canvas and soon his head bounces off of Lucas’ leg via the diving knee strike.

This implosion of skull to knee leaves Dre sprawled across the canvas and primed for a pin. Hence why Knight has rolled into his corner, grabbing the tag rope and leaning over the ropes and shouting for Starr.

Alana is still recuperating from that amazing version of the Tide Turner, which is why she’s so slow to respond. In spite of her injuries, she somehow manages to drag herself across the ring and ultimately make a tag to the eager Knight.

Dollar: Lucas has set this up perfectly, now all he needs to do is make the pin…Get to it Lucas, get to it.

Knight hustles across the ring and grabs Andre by the neck, leading the addled champion to his feet. He then hooks both of his arms and lifts him into the air for the Monarchy Rules, looking to capitalize and capitalize quickly.

We do see someone capitalize….but that someone is Andre….and he capitalizes on Knight’s overzealousness. He does so by managing to counter Knight, breaking out of his clutches, twisting his body and catching Lucas around the thigh, dragging him down into the school boy.

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Dollar: Dre has just caught Lucas!

The crowd is just about to lunge out of their seats, but the only thing that flies into the air is Knight’s shoulder. He kicks out and prevents Jordan from scoring this massive pinfall.

Both men then race to their feet with Jordan grabbing Lucas by the wrist and trying to drag him into the Get Got. Instead Lucas launches into a short arm clothesline aimed at Dre’s neck, that gets caught. Jordan leaps into the air and wraps his legs around the opposite arm, dragging Knight down into the crucifix pin.

Dollar: Does he have it this time?

No he doesn’t….cause Lucas drops down out of the crucifix, or more accurately Andre releases him. Why? So that Knight can fall to his knees in front of him, Dre can stand up and hook his arms and then drive Lucas into the canvas with the Opinion Changer.

Dollar: Opinion Changer! Opinion Changer finally delivered to devastating results.

The roof to the Manhattan Center is shaking via the reception of the crowd, fans getting closer to the edges of their seats in anticipation of seeing this potential pinfall. An ailing Jordan crawls into the cover and hooks both legs, realizing this is the moment he’s been waiting for for weeks, the chance to put down the man who stole his girl.

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And that girl steals the victory from Dre via scrambling into the ring and digging her nails directly into Jordan’s eyes. She screams while raking the pupils and compelling Andre to break away from his original target.

Dollar: Ah crapolla! Alana stopping the pin just before Dre could score yet another huge victory.

The eye gouging continues until Abigail comes rushing across the canvas and leaps into the air, landing on Alana’s throat with a leg lariat. The move takes Lindsey AND Starr over the ropes, sending them both splattering across the mats right at the feet of Tabitha Silverstone. Much like the fans, the agent watches on stunned by the bodies piled before her.

Inside of the ring Jordan is still blinded, palming his eyes as he staggers around in the ring. He finally takes his hands away from his pupils….no…he has his arms FORCED away from his pupils by Knight.

Lucas swoops in from behind, grabs the arms, pries them behind his back and heaves him up into the Monarchy Rules. The move connects on the previously damaged head, one that had already received a shot from the Evolution Title belt.

Dollar: Now it’s the Monarchy Rules DRIVING Jordan’s head into that canvas!

Referee Fitzpatrick slips into position and makes the count as the number one contender rolls into the cover on the Evolution Champion.

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Abigail tries to re-enter the ring and come to the aid of her partner only to find her ankle snagged and her feet plucked out from under her. She crashes face first into the apron and spills to the mats, meaning there is NOBODY to save Andre from taking the pin.

3!

The crowd is NOT happy.

Dollar: Lucas Knight…Chase Global….they’ve just scored a HUGE win.

Said HUGE win is commemorated by a kneeling Knight’s wrist being heaved into the air by the official.

Dollar: This grueling tag team match culminating to a victory for Lucas Knight over an incredibly game Andre Jordan here tonight.

A weary Knight gets to his feet only to stagger forward into the ropes, leaning on them for support. He stares through the cables at this point at what has now taken focus. And what is everyone focused on? The stare down between a kneeling Starr and a stunned Silverstone.

Dollar: Uuuuh-oh.

It takes a moment, Tabitha distracted by the fate of her client, but she is finally clued into the murderous gaze beamed her way. Silverstone turns to the very lady that she prevented from breaking Lohan’s neck at Invictus. With trembling lips, Tabitha backs away from Alana, who rises to her feet and prepares to sink her claws into Silverstone’s flesh.

Alana: You meddling bitch….You kept me from destroying Brittany at Invictus, but nothing will keep me from crushing you here tonight.

Silverstone back peddles as Alana approaches and prepares to destroy her. And the only thing that prevents that from happening….Abigail.

She rushes in behind Alana and drops her with a lariat to the back of her head, knocking Starr to the mats. Lindsey then drops down on top of her, delivering a barrage of punches and forearms. Lucas exits the ring at this point, and goes after Lindsey, who breaks away from Starr just in time to spare herself a potential beat-down.

Abigail grabs Tabitha and forces her away from the squared circle as well as out of harm’s way.

Dollar: Abigail saving Tabitha and taking another opportunity to get her hands on Alana Starr at the same time. But just how long can Tabitha stay clear of Chase Global’s wrath?

Lucas kneels beside Alana, checking her condition while staring up the ramp at a departing Lindsey and Silverstone.

Andre wishes he could depart the ring as well, but he barely even has the strength to raise his head, which is pounding with a migraine after suffering the Monarchy Rules.

An agitated Axl Evermore stands outside of the Black Crusade’s segregated locker-room, eyes directed to the camera.

Axl: Andre’s night not going too well, and neither is mine.

Obviously Evermore is eluding to the multiple interviews that went awry this evening.

Axl: I know-I know, I’ve failed to deliver on the multiple promises I’ve made thus far, but this is one guarantee I will not welch on. Tonight….

Axl slaps the door behind his back.

Axl:… I’m promising an exclusive interview with former number one contender, Legion, AND Mr. Gaunt.

Hype is built….hopefully hype that actually pays off.

Axl: That’s right, Axl Evermore sits down with the Black Crusade, and it’s coming up…SOON.

INVICTUS

Dollar: Everyone taking it to the next level tonight.

A still frame image of Rachel Foxx swinging a gavel into Katelyn Buehler’s face.

Fans: HOLY SHIT!!

Another image with just as violent of a pay-off. Aerik Walker leaping off a balcony and putting Jackson Adams through stacked tables.

Dollar: All these athletes pushing themselves….

Yet another gruesome clip featuring Danny Darko being given a hanging DDT by Karen McBride through a table wedged between Ladder and the ropes.

Dollar: I have never seen anything like this before!

A limo driven by Orlando Cruze, goes crashing through the wall of Hell in a Cell.

Chase: What is this?

A bundle of flowers is being held up by a stagehand so that Adam Chase can closely examine them. He overlooks just one of a hundred decorations set to adorn the ring for tonight’s celebration.

Chase: I specifically requested white roses…WHITE ROSES!

Stagehand: Their white.

Chase: Are you kidding me? This is egg-shell.

Stagehand: Egg-shell?

Chase: YES. Now get me roses so white they blind you.

One of the flowers is removed from the bundle and tossed to the feet of the stagehand to punctuate Adam’s statement. The super-agent then turns to the gathering of stagehands in the background, who are also putting together decorations and assembling the setting for what should be a splendid occasion later tonight.

Anticipation is still building for the ‘celebration’ tonight.

Dollar: Well it seems to me that Adam Chase has taken it upon himself to handle the decorations for his niece, Taylor Chase’s title celebration tonight. Don’t know why HE would be entrusted with such a task….but whatever floats your boat I suppose.

“The Shadows Betray You” only gets a chance to play through the speakers for a few moments before the voice of Savage cuts it off.

Nikolai: Orlando Cruze….

Kozlov parts the curtains and moves to the stage, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled back to reveal his twisted gaze.

Nikolai: I’m afraid you should have picked your battles a little wiser, Boy.

Kozlov parts the ropes and moves to the center of the ring.

Nikolai: Because you’ve created a problem for the Blacklist….and I delight in being their problem solver.

Dollar: Well this isn’t going to be any title celebration, looks instead like we’ve got a challenge. Nikolai Kozlov stepping up for the Blacklist against the man who has been on an absolute warpath tonight…

Cut to earlier tonight when said warpath is relived….as Orlando Cruze interferes in a beat-down on Amanda Blayze. With cane in hand, he slides into the ring, using the weapon to cave in the spine of Harrison and the skull of Montgome

Dollar: After his loss to the Blacklist, Orlando has just absolutely flipped out.

After demolishing the Blacklist with the cane, Cruze proceeds to bash the concrete floor repeatedly with the already warped cane.

Dollar: I don’t know if we’ve ever seen Orlando THIS fired up…which might make this challenge by Kozlov a very bad idea.

Kozlov prepares to part one last thing, Orlando’s blood from his body. He continues to pace the ring in anticipation of doing just that.

Nikolai: Orlando…remember what happened the last time my cousin, Mika, called on me for support. I took your unsuspecting brother and I BROKE him.

A knife feels like it’s twisting in Orlando’s guts.

Nikolai: Shaun has never been the same since the night I powerbombed him against this apron…(pointing to the very apron Shaun was driven against)….He’s been a shell of his former self since I took him and delivered the piledriver on exposed concrete. (Finger turns from apron to the outside mats where Shaun’s head was crushed against concrete)….And you stood by doing nothing, Orlando….But now is your chance. Now is your opportunity to be a man. Come out here and avenge your brother.

Frankie: Don’t go out there Orlando…it’s a suicide mission.

Yes…Frankie Paradise…THAT Frankie Paradise….has thrown his small stature between the vengeful Orlando Cruze and the corridor leading to the ring.

Orlando: Get the hell out of my way, Paradise.

In spite of the kendo-stick griped in Orlando’s hand, a weapon Frankie has been on the receiving end of, he continues to form a barrier.

Frankie: Bro….no homo, but I’d hate to see you get your brains splattered all over the Manhattan Center.

Orlando: Frankie, I swear to God, if you don’t get out of my way right now….

Frankie: Orlando, PLEASE….you’re walking into a mother-luvin trap.

Orlando: Let the Blacklist TRY to jump me….It’ll give me just the opportunity I need to get my hands on the one more time.

Frankie: You’re not thinking clearly.

Orlando: Why do YOU even care what happens to me? You’ve been trying to see me wiped off the face of the earth ever since Taylor decided she wanted a REAL man in her life.

The trademark shades are torn off of Frankie’s nose…taking offence to the heated statements.

Frankie: That’s yesterday’s news, Lando. It’s behind us…And get your facts straight, I was FORCED to cooperate with the Blacklist….If I hadn’t, they would have crushed me….in fact, they still might for standing up against them at Invictus.

Orlando: All the more reason for me to go out there and destroy the Blacklist….So maybe you should stop standing in my way and start standing by my side.

There is no response from Frankie, be it verbal or physical. He stops standing in front of Cruze, and most definitely won’t be beside him, as Orlando heads like a fly into a spider’s web.

Nikolai: Do you know how satisfying it was to hear Shaun screaming…crying… begging for my mercy? How gratifying it was to feel his bones shattering in my hands. How gladdened I was to see that anguished expression on his face….It was….it was bliss, Orlando.

Savage continues to pace the ring where he is trying his best to bait the Icon, and he casts quite the lure.

Nikolai: I want to feel that again…and you can help me, Orlando. So come on out here and seek your revenge….

”YOU KNOW MY NAME.”

It didn’t take much for Savage to prompt a response out of Orlando.

With only a few words, and a few painful reminders of what he did to Shaun, Savage has managed to lure Orlando into what promises to be a bloodbath.

Dollar: You wanted Orlando, now you’ll get him, Savage. Though I have a feeling he’s going to give you much more than you were anticipating.

Nikolai wedges hands to his knees and stoops forward, waiting, albeit impatiently for the President to enter the ring and suffer his wrath.

Dollar: Orlando is coming, Savage, and I truly hope that your….wait a minute here…

The curtains open and reveal not Orlando Cruze, but Danny Darko.

Dollar: It’s….it’s…Darko! What the hell is he doing?

Though Orlando’s music is playing, Darko has apparently beat the Icon to the punch, and is now about to beat someone else with literal punches. He rushes down the ramp and Kozlov is right at the end of it to meet him. The two pick up where they left off several weeks ago in that All Star Invictus tag, rights and lefts flying between them.

Dollar: DARKO…DARKO all over Savage! These two won’t stop until they’ve killed each other.

Danny gets the better of a stunned Savage, blasting him to the forehead again and again….giving him what he requested, a fight…just not the one Kozlov requested. Once Savage has been staggered back, Danny corkscrews through the air into the Darkolator. But the corkscrew roundhouse misses, Savage stooping forward just in time to avoid it. As a result Darko flies over his opponent’s head and lands on the apron. He then leaps into the air, drops with the back of his knees across the top rope and flips back into an Arabian Press. Kozlov spins around and looks up just as Danny comes crashing into him, taking both men down to the mats.

Dollar: Big moonsault by Darko, crushing Savage beneath him.

Danny doesn’t rest with the moonsalt, dragging Savage along to his knees and now setting up for a package piledriver presumably.

A counter is provided by Kozlov however, wedging his hands to Darko’s ribs and shoving him back towards the steps. Darko hits the steel and staggers forward right into a big spear that knocks all the wind from his lungs and crushes his ribs.

Dollar: But Darko’s offensive couldn’t last against this powerhouse…this unstoppab….YOOO!

Savage stands up and gloats over his ailing opponent for only a moment before he’s spun around and cracked right in the face with the kendo-stick. Orlando slams the cane over Nikolai’s skull, but somehow Kozlov is still standing, standing long enough to turn absent mindedly into the Darkolator. The Trouble in Paradise style kick nails Kozlov right between the eyes, sending him twisting towards and spilling unto the ramp.

Dollar: Cruze! CRUZE smashing the cane over Savage’s skull, setting up the Darkolator!

A huge welt has formed on Savage’s forehead as he staggers to his feet on the ramp.

All the while Darko, holding his ailing ribs, stares towards Orlando, who holds a worn kendo-stick. That weapon at last finds its way into Danny’s clutches, Cruze tossing him the weapon that has aided the Icon so much tonight. Now it proves instrumental to Darko, who rushes up the ramp and swings the cane into Savage’s spine.

Kozlov arches his back and staggers up the ramp before turning around and getting the cane slapped off of his forehead for a second time.

Dollar: Darko now wearing Kozlov out with the cane. This is epic.

The brutality continues to be inflicted on Savage even as he and his attacker, Darko, spill through the curtains into the backstage area. This all affords Orlando the opportunity to enter the ring and pick up the microphone that was dropped by the man who made the most foolish of challenges.

Orlando: HAAARISSSON!

The mere mention of Aaron’s name elicits waves of hostility.

Orlando: When are you going to learn that there is only way to get rid of me….And that’s by going one on one with the Icon. I’m not about to let you rest or relax until you agree to face me. Until I’m satisfied that this is truly OVER.

This declaration in the ring has the crowd pumped, and that energy continues to build now that Evermore has summoned the courage to navigate through the shadowy locker-room of the Black Crusade.

Evermore: As advertised, I’m standing right here in the locker-room of the Black Crusade and…..

Mr. Gaunt: Mr. Evermore…you wish to conduct an interview do you?

The sparse lighting provided finally highlights the face of Mr. Gaunt, the shadowy leader of the Black Crusade at home in the darkness. His silhouette comes into focus as he steps forward from the depths of black to stand beside Evermore, slapping a palm on the shoulder of an increasingly nervous interviewer.

Evermore: Well, I am standing here in your locker-room, there is a camera, and I am holding a microphone. I could make a duck comparison, but I think I covered that earlier.

Mr. Gaunt: Splendid, for your presence is quite timely, my pony tail sporting compatriot. For we wished to address the masses regarding past events, such as what transpired at Invictus, and upcoming events, such as this celebration scheduled for tonight.

Evermore: Great-great…Glad to hear….wait. Did you say, ‘we?’

Mr. Gaunt: You are not misquoting me.

Another hand finds its way unto Evermore’s shoulder, the massive palm belonging to Legion. A burst of static hits the camera, malfunctioning while in the presence of the unholy behemoth.

Mr. Gaunt: I imagine that you have some inquires.

Evermore: I do.

Mr. Gaunt: Am I to presume that your first question is the same being asked by the throngs of loyal Black Crusade supporters?

Evermore: Yeah, probably.

Mr. Gaunt: So you wish to know what everyone else has been asking do you? Where the Black Crusade goes from here now that Legion’s championship ambitions were thwarted at Invictus by the ever-so villainous Taylor Chase?

Evermore: Thanks for saving me the trouble of actually having to ask.

Mr. Gaunt: You’re welcome. Now in regards to the question you raised. We, meaning the Black Crusade, are never without a strategy. Do these wrestling aficionados honestly perceive us to be without a back-up plan?

Evermore: So what is this back-up plan?

Mr. Gaunt: I understand the answer might not be too easily discerned, as there are numerous members of this ever expanding roster deserving of the Black Crusade’s wrath. However, the first target of our campaign to inspire fear will be…

Before the answer can be given and Axl has a chance to finish his interview, the door to the darkened locker-room bursts open.

Robert: Is it true!?!

The burly beast with crimson mane storms into the room, almost bowling Evermore over in the process.

Robert: Are Leeland Gaunt and Legion responsible for the decimation of Mnooseville?

Legion does not react, even when threatened by this enormous and vengeful soul.

Mr. Gaunt: I’m afraid you’re quite mistaken, Robert.

Robert: Robert has it on good authority that your negativity and depravity has directly affected the fate of Mnooseville.

Mr. Gaunt: And who’s ‘authority’ would that be?

Robert: It is of no matter to you, Sir…..

Robert’s intense eyes shift towards a flabbergasted Evermore.

Robert: And you…take your camera and leave this instant. This is a private matter that requires only Mr. Gaunt, Legion and Robert.

A handful of Evermore’s coat is squeezed by Robert, who pulls him towards the door and ultimately sends him through it into the hallway.

Evermore: But dammit, I promised the fans an intervie…

The door slams directly in his face.

Gavin: Move it….come on!

The other half of Chase Global find themselves racing through the backstage area, moving as fast as they possibly can towards the parking lot. They pay no notice to any of their surroundings as they proceed down the corridor, Kyle’s and Gavin’s primary focus being the Evolution Championship presently donning Taylor’s shoulder.

Gavin: Is the car all gassed up and ready to go?

Kyle: It’s a Prius dude, the thing pretty much runs on corn syrup.

As Kyle turned to calm Gavin down, his lack of attention proves detrimental, accidentally bumping right into Frankie Paradise.

The General Manager, who was looking uncharacteristically morose, wandered along right into a shoulder that almost sends him collapsing to the concrete.

Frankie: NO BRO!

A crate proves useful in holding Frankie up, grabbing it and keeping from being bowled over right onto his ass.

Kyle: Oh dude, sorry.

Frankie: Sorry….SORRY!?!

Paradise straightens himself and fixes his leather jacket.

Frankie: This isn’t a friggin playground I’m not allowed within forty feet of, so you will not treat it as such. And furthermore….wait…what the hell is that?

He points to the Evolution Title nestled tightly against Gavin’s sternum.

Gavin: Just how hard did Kyle hit you? It’s a title belt…duuuuuh…..

Frankie: Yeah bro, I know. But what are YOU doing with it?

Gavin: Why wouldn’t I have it? It’s mine…mine….MINE.

Both arms squeeze the championship.

Frankie: That’s news to me. I seem to remember that belt belonging to Andre Jordan.

Gavin: Then you have a very selective memory…BRO.

Frankie: Hey, I have a very good memory. I remember half the brods who have got very up close and personal with lil Frankie…including the two earlier this afternoon….Actually it was just one, but she was big enough to count as two….And I remember that Andre is the champion….Which leads Frankie to believe that you stole that championship.

Gavin: Nooooo….I took it back is what I did.

Frankie: Nuh-uh…your giving it back is what you’re gonna do.

Gavin: No way, I’m not handing this belt over to you.

Frankie: Naaaah bro, who said anything about forking that belt over to me? I’m not the champ.

Gavin: Good, glad to see you’ve come to your sen….

Taylor suddenly grows quiet when he realizes what’s being inferred.

Frankie: You will be handing over that Evolution Tilte….But it will be to Andre Jordan.

Kyle: Are you totes cray-cray man?

Gavin: There’s no way I’m giving MY title back, especially not to that THUG, Andre.

Frankie: You will if you value your job….

Another attempt is made by Gavin to speak up, but Kyle slaps a hand down over his associate’s mouth before he can them into further hot water….nay SCOLDING water.

Frankie: But I’ll tell you what, Gabby, you’ll have until New Age to think this over, where you’ll either hand over the Evolution Title, OR I’ll do with your contract the very same thing I did to Nathan Creed’s.

Frankie is just about to take his leave, but just can’t help himself.

Frankie: Oh, and by hand over the belt, I mean you’ll be taking that championship and wrapping it around Andre’s waist.

It takes all of Kyle’s strength to keep his palm over Gavin’s lips, his mumbles filtering through the cracks of his partner’s fingers.

Frankie: And fellas, watch where you’re going next time.

Once Paradise is out of range, Kyle at last unshackles Gavin’s mouth.

Gavin: Mother-son of a….THIS IS YOUR FAULT!

The spiteful words are shouted at a stunned Black.

Kyle: What?

Gavin: You screwed up everything….EVERYTHING!!

BA’AL © VS. P CLARENCE WHITMAN IIII
NHB CHAMPIONSHIP

The curtains at once separate and through them strides P Clarence Whitman III…impending challenger for the NHB Championship. Normally he would stride to the ring with a glass of brandy in hand, tonight however, he carries along a steel chair.

Dollar: Ladies and gentlemen, P Clarence Whitman III has been BEGGING for weeks to get his hands on Ba’al, and tonight, he finally gets just that, a one on one bout with the Prince of Sin…

Clarence continues on his way to the ring amidst a solid reaction from the exhilarated audience. Even when entering the ring Clarence refuses to abandon his chair, a weapon that has proven so useful to him in recent weeks, including earlier tonight.

Dollar: Whitman bringing along an equalizer, even though he’s not use to competing in matches like this, with no rules, he seems more than ready to challenge for the No Holds Barred Championship here tonight…and it just goes to show how much Whitman wants his hands on Ba’al, competing in a contest well outside of his comfort zone.

Whitman, traditionally a thinking man’s wrestler, and more inclined to leisurely sips of brandy beside a roaring fire, now finds himself ready to be consumed by violence and hopes there will be no flames anywhere near the proximity of the ring.

No….the only fire he will endure, is the trial by fire…forced to walk through it when a forearm cracks him in the upper back. The emotive audience unloads on Executioner, who has knocked Whitman down to the ramp, sending the smaller athlete crumbling in a heap.

Dollar: HEY! The Pestilence JUMPING Whitman on the rampway!

Obviously Executioner, Laymon and Wilde are going to make sure that little is left of Whitman to challenge for the championship tonight. And they ensure just that by leading Clarence to his feet and hooking both of his arms. Laymon and Wilde rush down the ramp and then throw Clarence HIGH Into the air, sending him crashing into the steel via a double hip toss.

Dollar: AAAAH…it’s getting hardcore for Whitman, even BEFORE the match can begin. The Pestilence just decimating him….We’ve seen Clarence and the Pestilence have multiple runs in in the past, but this has nothing to do with that, they’re just weakening Whitman before he can challenge for the Championship under orders from you know who.

You know who being the man who presently watches this brutality inflicted on Whitman from the confines of the gorilla position. The NHB Champion stands between Jaina who is holding his NHB Championship, and Rachel Foxx, who is twisting a gavel around in his fingers. The trio watches a monitor, which feeds them the images of a brutalized Whitman.

Brutality being a straight steel chair shot to his skull delivered by Laymon. The sound of steel to cranium causes the most pronounced of cringes from the fans and leave a gaping wound in Whitman’s face.

Dollar: And now Pestilence assaults Whitman with the chair…the very chair he brought to the ring with him.

Unfortunately the chair never made it to the ring, but it did make it into Whitman’s forehead. A huge dent is left in the surface of the steel, but even further damage has been done to the challenge for the NHB Championship tonight. He lies on the mats with blood already soaking his face.

Dollar: Look at this…look at the blood GUSHING down Whitman’s face….And this match hasn’t even started yet for crying out fudging loud.

In spite of Dollar’s condemnation, Pestilence continues to use the chair to devastating results. The steel is opened and wedged around Clarence’s ankle by Laymon while Exectioner approaches the stairs, ripping off the top half and dragging it up to his chest.

Dollar: Oh shat…not this…not this now. Someone PLEASE stop the Pestilence…STOP THEM DAMMIT!

The stairs rise above Executioner’s skull in preparation of being dragged down onto the chair, which will no doubt SHATTER the ankle. Bones are presumably fractured…a jaw bone….as Silverwolf rushes down the ramp and drives his knuckles directly into Executioner’s face. The stairs drop out of Executioner’s hands and fall directly on top of his head, knocking him out completely.

Dollar: Silverwolf…Silverwolf delivering the Magnum Blitz on Executioner. The number one contender for the NHB Championship….he’s getting revenge for that attack from the Pestilence earlier tonight.

And revenge does not end at a simple KO punch on Executioner….Walker wanting to evenly distribute some punishment. He goes right after Wilde and Laymon, who immediately take off running…but not without first snatching up the steel chair. They take Whitman’s weapon away from him while draining his body of blood at the exact same time.

Dollar: As if the Pestilence didn’t do enough already, now they’re taking the chair away and making sure Whitman can’t use it in this match. That was Clarence’s equalizer dammit.

It’s going to take more than the chair carried away by Wilde to even up the odds for Whitman at this point, who’s face is nothing but a puddle of blood. In spite of this, he TRIES to sit up, looking through the crimson flowing down over his eyelids in time to spot Silverwolf rushing up the ramp, in pursuit of the Pestilence.

Foxx: Well love….

The video of Clarence’s bloodletting brings a twisted smile to the face of Ba’al, Foxx and Jaina.

Foxx: It looks like the time has come for your toughest challenge to date.

The sarcastic statement brings an even broader smile to the cheeks of the Prince of Sin.

Ba’al: Indeed….it seems I am in store for quite the trial this evening.

A slight burst of laughter emanates from Jaina as she and Foxx follow the NHB Champion away from the monitor and towards the ring.

And what’s happening in the ring? Why Whitman is already within it, albeit on his elbows and knees, blood pooling on the canvas beneath his lacerated face. Referee Stuart Wright pretends to be checking on his condition, but all the while he’s eyeing a lovely ringside photographer. The familiar intro track for the NHB Champion plays over the speakers to mark the arrival of the champion.

Dollar: This is just too sick for words. Whitman was already fighting an uphill battle tonight given his unfamiliarity in no holds barred matches, but now he’s absolutely bludgeoned by the Pestilence before the match could even get started. Who knows what Ba’al is going to do to the weakened challenger.

The despair has reached an all-time low. All those who have supported the mustachioed movement, now forced to watch as Clarence drops to his stomach, unable to even raise his head to acknowledge the trio on their way to the ring. Jaina and Foxx embark towards the ring with Ba’al following behind, the champion harboring a sick and twisted twinkle in his eyes as his pupils fix on the blood cascading from Whitman’s face.

Dollar: This has to be one of the greatest travesties we’ve ever witnessed.

Ba’al pauses a moment at ringside, but not from pity or doubt, it’s merely so that he can pat the NHB Championship situated over his sister’s shoulder. After making one final embrace with the gold, Ba’al starts up the steps and methodically approaches his wounded prey.

Dollar: Prepare for the most one sided bloodbath you’ve ever witnessed. We saw the Sinistry employ this same tactic at Invictus when Rachel Foxx busted Katelyn Buehler with a gavel before their match could begin, and now the same fate has befallen Whitman. I don’t think he can rally like Katelyn did at Invictus though.

Whitman TRIES to do just that, rally…but his rally only manages to get him up to his elbows and knees before he falls flat on his face once again. Ba’al leans against the ropes and watches him with a condescending expression on his face.

Ba’al: Whitman…Whitman….Whitman….what is to be done with you?

Amazingly Clarence manages to get to his elbows and knees, dragging himself towards the source of this sinister voice.

Ba’al: You challenge me to a match and yet you come so ill-prepared to face me.

A knee is taken, Ba’al dropping down to Whitman’s level and getting a good view of the huge gash presently in Clarence’s scalp.

Ba’al: You begged, you pleaded for a match between you and I, but now, you’ll beg and you’ll plead to get out of this match. You will scream, and you will cry for me to show you mercy. You quill quiver and you will whimper when my wrath is unleashed. Isn’t that what you do best, Whitman? Snivel for me, Whitman…weep….BEG!

The back of Whitman’s neck is employed to hold his head up so that the whites of his eyes become visible beneath the palate of blood.

Ba’al: Oh wait…that’s right…you don’t beg anymore do you? You don’t run from your matches, for the Black Crusade, they’ve inspired you to at long….LOOONG last develop a spine? Let’s test that shall we?

The diabolical Ba’al remains on his knees as he turns his back on the former X-Class Champion.

Ba’al: Come on Whitman….Do your worse…..This is the opportunity you’ve so adamantly requested is it not? So take your chance. Prove your manliness. Show me that the Black Crusade has truly made you more than the same spineless sap we all know you to be.

Clarence can’t even bat his eyes without wanting to scream in pain, so in what world can he possibly take advantage of Ba’al’s posture.

Ba’al: Come along now, Whitman….Don’t continue to be a disappointment. You promised these fans that you would crush me….that you would decimate me…that you would avenge all the wrongs, all of the embarrassments, all of the humiliations you’ve suffered at my hands.

A chuckling Ba’al reaches back and palms Whitman’s face. He shoves him down onto his back.

Ba’al: It is precisely as I thought. You remain a coward….And a nothing of a little man. You are incapable of evolution….You are incapable of growth.

Ba’al turns his back on Whitman once again and extends his arms out to his sides.

Ba’al: Take your shot Whitman….Take your SHOT! Be a man!

Every demand is made between repulsive laughs from Ba’al….

And that laughter continues until Whitman lunges onto Ba’al’s back, takes his arms and applies the Million Dollar Dream sleeper hold.

Dollar: HOLY MOMMA! Whitman has got it….he’s got the Million Dollar Sleeper locked in…locked in on Ba’al!

The number one contender’s mouth shuts, but his eyes widen, filled with shock and surprise. His carotid artery is crushed by the arms of Whitman, who channels every last reserve of strength behind the hold.

Dollar: How is Whitman doing this?

The reaction is absolutely thunderous and results in raised goosebumps upon the arms of the roaring spectators.

Their response is fueling Whitman, who bobs his head with blood flying off of it and dispersing through the air.

Their response is intensifying Whitman’s efforts, who puts even further pressure on the neck of the Prince of Sin.

Dollar: I do not believe this….I never, not in a million years, would have thought Whitman was capable of this.

The blood splattered Whitman continues to employ all of his untapped rage, all of his bottled up emotion, putting everything he’s worth into a hold that has Ba’al buckling. Whitman falls back, but he didn’t collapse….no….he dropped down in order to put Ba’al at an even greater disadvantage. Already the oxygen deprivation is taking its toll….resulting in Ba’al’s face going paler than normal.

Dollar: This….is….unreal.

The crowd agrees with Johnny, their mouths agape in anticipation of seeing Ba’al either tap out or pass out to this hold.

The thought of either option panning out, inspires Whitman to exert even more tremendous, neck snapping pressure on the hold.

Dollar: Even after that beat-down from the Pestilence….even after losing so much blood…Whitman is about to win the NHB Championship.

The fairy tale is about to become a reality….a reality transformed into a nightmare. Just when it seemed that Ba’al’s ego had sealed his fate, he changes his destiny. He pushes up off of the canvas with his feet, flipping over backwards and ending up with the back of his head and shoudlers pressed to Whitman’s chest, pushing him down into a pinning predicament.

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2

Dollar: Well you gave it your all, Whitman.

Wright is on the verge of slapping the hand for a third time, but he doesn’t even get close before Whitman is kicking out.

Dollar: No.

Ba’al is quite taken aback by Whitman’s kick out, but is even more surprised to find himself STILL trapped in the Million Dollar Dream. Whitman drops to his side and rolls Ba’al over to his seat, stooped behind him and continuing to exert tremendous pressure on the neck.

Dollar: And he’s STILL got that submission locked in! This is insanity.

Things only get crazier when Ba’al wedges his feet to the canvas and pushes back once more. He prepares to go for the same pinning predicament he did a moment ago only for Whitman to shockingly counter the counter into a crucifix style pin.

Dollar: This is how Whitman won at Invictus….this is how he won at Invictus!

Wright drops down into position and makes a count that threatens to blow minds worldwide.

1

2

But the only thing that is blown is Whitman’s pursuit of the gold, as Ba’al manages to kick out.

Dollar: But no, Ba’al managing not to suffer the same fate as his associate, Jonathan Collins.

What Ba’al does suffer is a bionic elbow straight to the top of the head. The moment he kicked out and dropped to his knees, a bloodied Whitman is right on him, delivering one bionic elbow after another, and then another, and then another. The Champion and Number One Contender for the World Title has gone glossy eyed as each of these shots continue to be unleashed across his brow.

Whitman now does something truly inconceivable, utilizing CLOSED FISTS. One punch connects, followed by a second and a third and a fourth. Each shot is delivered straight to the same area of Ba’al’s face, and then into his body.

As Ba’al ascends to his feet, punches unload on his ribs, his stomach, his cheeks…every area within rang eof Whitman’s strikes.

Dollar: Guess that time Whitman spent in the gym before his match with Collins is paying off here, and for more than just a wonderful homage to Rocky III.

The devastating rights and lefts continue to connect, Whitman getting bowling shoe ugly in this match. He finally takes an absolutely stunned Ba’al by the wrist, backs him into the ropes and whips him off into the opposite cables. As the Champion bounces from the ropes and comes charging back in, Whitman bends down in anticipation of catching him when he comes back in.

But Ba’al stops just short of Whitman’s attempted back drop and instead it’s the Prince of Sin’s boot that launches into the air, connecting directly with the bloodied face of his rival.

Whitman stands up straight with eyes rolling to the back of his head and blood splattering through the air. However, Ba’al will only allow Whitman to stand up for so long before he rushes in with a clothesline…a clothesline leading to a crippler crossface….a crippler crossface unleashed by Whitman.

He ducks the lariat and catches the Champion’s inbound arm, forcing him down to the canvas and attempting to lock his hands under his jaw.

Dollar: CROSSFACE! Whitman is now going for the crossface!

The fans and Whitman all realize that if he gets this hold locked in, he could be on his way to crowning a new champion. But Ba’al has other plans….plans that shalt not be altered. He manages to grab Whitman’s hands, pry them away from his jaw and counter by pulling down on his opponent’s wrist.

Whitman falls to his stomach and Ba’al goes flipping over his back, applying the cattle mutilation.

Dollar: What a counter!

The crossface has indeed been countered into the Cattle Mutilation…one that has Whitman on the cusp of submission. Somehow Clarence resists the temptation to immediately give up, screaming at the top of his lungs from the pain, but never uttering the words ‘I QUIT.’

Dollar: How are you doing this Whitman? HOW!?!

Driven by all the insults, by all the degrading accusations about his manliness, Whitman continues to fight that urge to tap out.

The louder the crowd cheers, the more intense Ba’al’s efforts become. He puts even further pressure on the arms until they are ready to snap at the shoulders.

Dollar: Just tap and save your career for God sakes.

Whitman opens his mouth in anticipation of shouting those two magic words, but instead extends his foot, and drops it right over the bottom rope.

Dollar: OH GOD! I don’t….I don’t….this can’t be possible. Whitman actually reached the ropes.

But it doesn’t matter, because with there being no rules, rope breaks are inconsequential.

Dollar: Dammit, I forgot rope breaks mean nothing in this type of environment.

This at last dons on Whitman, prompting him to slide closer and closer to the ropes while still trapped in the Cattle Mutilation, until he’s spilling under the cables. Ba’al is forced to break the hold once Clarence falls to the mats, landing on his knees across the mats. The NHB Champion is a bit flustered at this point, getting to his knees and looking at the blood that cakes his palms. He then uses those hands to reach through the ropes for Whitman, and finds a trash can connecting with his head instead.

Dollar: AAAAH!

Whitman managed to grab a can from under the ring in the nick of time to prove advantageous to him and devastating to Ba’al.

Dollar: Trashcan shot…Trashcan shot from Whitman!

It seems that Whitman COULD enter the ring and put the can to even further use only to have that ambition thwarted by the interference of Jaina. She rushes towards the challenger only to br cut off with a threat from the trashcan elevated above Whitman’s head. Ba’al’s title bearer, jumps back to avoid the wrath of Whitman, but she didn’t have to put a finger on him to inflict harm. The distraction gives Ba’al sufficient recovery time. This is learned when Whitman puts a trashcan on the apron, about to slide into the ring only to have driven back into his chest when Ba’al connects with a baseball slide dropkick to the other-side of it.

Whitman is launched back after having his sternum collapsed by the trashcan, hitting the mats and immediately trying to collect himself.

With blood cascading down his face and his sternum feeling like it’s experiencing the worse case of indigestion ever, Whitman amazingly begins towards his feet….a potentially ill-advised move.

Ba’al waits behind him, with a weapon far more destructive than the trashcan in his clutches. A bladed ring has slid from his pocket and over his knuckle, prepared to embed itself in the flesh of his adversary.

Just as Whitman reaches his feet, Ba’al charges in and prepares to employ the weapon to shave more than the mustache from Whitman’s body. But Clarence saves his trademark stache AND his flesh, by catching the inbound Ba’al with a back drop, sending him flipping him flipping through the air and crashing back first onto the lower section of steel steps.

Dollar: Yaaaah….Whitman with a back-drop….with mother luvin backdrop on Ba’al!

The place is going nuts while Ba’al’s body is going numb, and Whitman is going down to his knees. He scoots across them to the upper half of the steel steps that were dumped on top of Executioner’s head moments ago. Clarence pulls himself up with the stairs to his feet, wiping blood from his eyes. He regains his vision just in time to turn and spot Jaina rushing at him with the title elevated, smacking into his skull….Well, one skull does take damage….but it Jaina’s!

Whitman side steps Frost and catches her with a drop toe hold, sending her plummeting face first into the top half of the stairs.

Dollar: Oh me oh my…now Jaina tasting the steel. And I imagine it doesn’t have a very good fiber content.

It takes all of Whitman’s resolve to pull himself up onto the apron, bearing some extra weight in the process, the trashcan. Now it’s he who is sizing up his prey.

Ba’al crawls away from the steps which caused him so much misfortune, and then finds the trashcan creating even greater detriment. The bloodied Whitman leaps from the apron and slams the can directly unto Ba’al’s skull. The NHB Champion staggers back but does not go down. This allow Whitman to take him by the back of the head and roll him into the ring.

Whitman follows him inside and waits for Ba’al to get to his knees. It takes some doing but the Prince of Sin at last reaches a kneeling base and immediately regrets doing so. His skull is crushed by the trashcan, prompting him to teeter back and forth between knees. Whitman then retracts the can and slams it again over Ba’al’s skull.

Dollar: Whitman wearing Ba’al out with the trashcan….After that attack by Pestilence, I didn’t think this would be possible.

Whitman heaves the trashcan above his head and slams it once more over Ba’al’s cranium. Huge dents liter the surface of the warped can, and the Champion’s skull is just as warped. Clarence now places the trashcan over top of that warped head. He then leaves his feet and dropkicks the can, knocking Ba’al onto his back, still trapped inside of the steel.

He rolls to the center of the ring while Whitman crawls away, towards the turnbuckle. He grabs the ropes, dragging his worn and withered body to its feet. Though his legs threaten to give way, Whitman manages to climb up the turnbuckle

Dollar: I HAVE to be hallucinating at this point. How oh how is Whitman managing to climb the corner?

It is a truly rare sight to see Whitman ascend to the top rope, going high risk not being par for the course for the challenger here tonight He finally gets to his feet on the top rope and prepares to leave them into what may be an epic splash.

He turns with the crowd going absolutely mad and is just about to fly through the air when Foxx lunges to the apron behind him.

Foxx: Time to fly, hero.

Ba’al just slithers out of the trashcan in time to avoid Whitman….who is sent flipping forward off of the turnbuckle thanks to a good shove by Foxx. Ultimately the Challenger crashes upside down into the trashcan, squishing it beneath his body and potentially squishing all of his internal organs as well.

Dollar: OOOOH NO! Whitman into the steel…Whitman into the steel!!

And the slam against the steel has Whitman spent….lying on the trashcan motionless at this point. Ba’al, suffering a list of ailments, crawls into the lateral press and prepares to retain his title.

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And here comes the….NOOOO!…..Whitman launches his shoulder from the canvas before Wright’s hand could connect with the ring.

Dollar: Whitman still fighting…he’s still in this match. What an amazing display of perseverance.

Though he kicked out, Clarence just lays there, able to do little else. Ba’al doesn’t provide any rest, grabbing Whitman around the neck, leading him up to his feet and unto his shoulder. He gets a running start and then delivers a big Michinoku Driver onto the mangled trashcan.

Whitman sits up, batting his eyes, the only white section of his face beneath the thick clotted blood. Ba’al then grabs him by the shoulder, dragging him to his back and falling over his chest.

Dollar: And that had to have done it…it has got to be over at this point.

Wright is about to confirm just that.

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Nay to that confirmation.

To a screech from the crowd, Whitman throws his shoulder out from under the constraining weight of Ba’al.

Dollar: And he just keeps fighting.

The broken body of Whitman is actually crawling away from Ba’al, but doesn’t get very far. The Number One Contender….or Co-Number One Contender, takes Whitman around the neck, leading him along to his feet. He pauses for a moment to acknowledge the screams of the audience.

Fans: WHITMAN! WHITMAN!! WHITMAN!!

Their screams bring a grin to Ba’al’s face.

Ba’al: You cheer your common-man do you? For he is an embodiment of your aspirations….a mirror of your own unfilled desires. You live vicariously through this flawed specimen. He is the very underdog that you root for…that you….

Ba’al only stops speaking when Whitman does the unthinkable, throwing a low blow directly into his crotch.

Dollar: Low blow….LOW BLOW by Whitman!

The ungentlemanly blow has Ba’al doubled over and gasping for air, while Whitman stands up, grabs him around the neck and snaps back into a devastating DDT, right on top of the trashcan. Ba’al flips over to his back, looking knocked into next year…nay the next decade.

To the sheer excitement and astonishment of the crowd, Whitman seems to be getting fired up. He gets to his knees with his whole body shivering, blood flying through the air as he rocks his head and tries to motivate himself to stand up.

Dollar: Whitman really reaching down deep.

And he finds the strength to stand before limping along into the turnbuckle. He slips through the ropes and to the apron before scaling the turnbuckle.

Dollar: Oh no, Whitman….I’m not sure about this. It didn’t work out too well for you the last time.

With the crowd staunchly behind him, Whitman stands up on the turnbuckle, to the same result as before. Foxx lunges to the apron and reaches out to catch Clarence, only to instead catch his boot to her chest. Rachel is sent twisting to the mats below with the gavel falling out of her pocket, while Whitman sends himself flying across the ring into a big splash that connects directly with Ba’al’s worn torn body.

Dollar: He connects! Whitman off the top rope with the biggest of big splashes he’s ever delivered!

The entirety of the Manhattan is absolutely absorbed….finding themselves beyond captivated by the promise of a new NHB Champion being crowned.

Dollar: This is it….Whitman has got Ba’al….Whitman has got his revenge and he’s got the NHB Championship.

Official Wright gets in position and slaps the canvas for the definitive three.

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Whitman’s crowning achievement…..is disrupted by none other than Rachel Frost.

Dollar: No dammit!

Ba’al’s sister-in-law leaps in and drops her forearm across the back of Whitman’s head in the nick of time, breaking up the three count.

Dollar: Sinistry members just keep coming out of the woodworks here. How can Whitman possibly content with the sheer numbers of this group?

Short answer….he can’t…evident as Frost pulls Whitman up to his knees and blasts him straight to the gashed forehead with a thrust kick. The strike knocks the challenger out and frees Frost to set the Challenger up for the big kill. Already Foxx is reading her new sister’s mind, climbing up the turnbuckle while Frost is heaving Whitman up into the air, twisting him into position for the Dead in Tombstone.

Dollar: Not this again…not this same move Frost and Foxx delivered on Buehler at Invictus.

The sorrowful fans watch as Whitman is about to have his neck snapped by this spiked Tombstone piledriver variant.

We see just that, a snap….the crowd SNAPPING out of their funk when Katelyn Buehler comes barreling down the ramp, snatching the gavel dropped by Foxx.

Dollar: BUEHLER-BUEHLER-BUEHLER!!

The gavel instantly cracks Frost between the shoulder blades, causing her to drop Whitman. The debt Buehler owes to Whitman is instantly repaid.

Dollar: Katelyn….after being saved by Whitman earlier tonight, has just paid it forward.

Frost falls to her knees and Foxx comes flying off the turnbuckle into another shot from the gavel, this one connecting with her ribs. Rachel drops to her knees, wrapping herself around her wounded mid-section.

Buehler isn’t through wearing her out with the weapon just yet….pushing Foxx to her stomach, grabbing her arm and extending her hand out over the canvas. She stands on the back of Foxx’s wrist and twirls the gavel around in Buehler’s own palm.

Dollar: Revenge about to be achieved by Buehler….she’s going to crush those fingers the same way Foxx did to her at Last Stand.

The gavel is retracted in anticipation of shattering every last phalange. But her motivation for revenge has blinded her to the actions of the other Rachel.

Frost rushes in behind Buehler and delivers a big axehandle smash to her upper back, knocking her down to the canvas.

Dollar: Damn…Frost saves Foxx.

The fans are equally as outraged as Dollar regarding Frost’s timely intervention. The blow to the back of Buehler, allows Rachel to help Foxx to her feet, her soon to be sister-in-law still clutching her wounded ribcage. She then rolls Foxx to the outside mats and follows her along, helping her sister up as the two flee to the backstage area.

Much like Silverwolf chased the Pestilence out of the building, now Buehler gives hot pursuit to the Rachel’s.

Dollar: Katelyn has just taken care of Frost and Foxx. Silverwolf has taken out the Pestilence. Whitman took out Jaina Frost with that drop toe hold into the steps. There is nobody left….Ba’al is on his own…..and OOOOH NO!

Once again Whitman has reached his feet and is discovering that one last gas. He begins to channel all his remaining aggression into Ba’al, turning just in time to have the gavel swung directly into his face.

Dollar: Ba’al driving the gavel into Whitman’s head!!

The crowd is mortified by the sound of gavel thudding against skull and the sight of Whitman thudding against canvas. Ba’al throws the gavel out of the ring and then drops into the lateral press, throwing himself across Whitman’s chest and wedging an elbow to the huge wound in his opponent’s forehead that has only been widened at this point.

Dollar: Whitman’s demons have conquered him tonight.

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3!

In his first defense of the title, Ba’al has managed to emerge…..with one of the most plausible near-falls imaginable. Whitman gets his shoulder up a mere half second before the third slap of the canvas.

Dollar: No….no-frackin-way did that just happen!

The crowd is absolute hysterics at this point and even Ba’al is losing his calm.

He is consumed by sheer disbelief as he stares down at the hurt Whitman.

Dollar: What is it going to take?

A Totalis perhaps?

Ba’al slithers into position, watching with snake like eyes as Whitman valiantly struggles towards his feet….His legs don’t want to cooperate with him, and his body is drained of all its remaining strength, yet he still compels himself to stand.

He has just straightened his spine before Ba’al lunges into the air, catches him around the neck and unleashes hell….or to be more precise….finds himself enduring hell. Ba’al’s Totalis is encountered into the CROSSFACE!

Whitman plucks his bloodied skull out of Ba’al’s clutches and forces him down to the canvas.

Dollar: A counter! A counter that could make Whitman the champion!

The Challenger’s hand clamp around Ba’al’s chin, rearing back and exerting tremendous pressure o the number one contender.

Fans: TAP! TAP! TAP!

And that’s just what Ba’al is about to do….lifting his hand into the air.

Dollar: Whitman about to become the first man to make Ba’al submit.

His hand falls towards the canvas but clinches into a fist just before he can submit.

Dollar: Not just yet it seems.

Ba’al scoots across his stomach towards the ropes, searching for salvation. With an extension of his foot the NHB Champion hooks his toes around the bottom cable.

Dollar: Unfortunately, Ba’al reaches the rope….oh wait a minute.

The crossface is not broken and Wright does not coerce Whitman to release Ba’al either, considering that rope breaks are irrelevant in a no holds barred confrontation.

Dollar: That’s right…..I forgot….this happened earlier to Whitman….Even reaching the ropes won’t save Ba’al.

The blood splattered Whitman continues to wrench back on the jaw and put significant strain on Ba’al’s neck. He is on the cusp of submission, his fingers shaking above the ring, his will tested by a man overwhelmed with revenge. The determined Clarence puts every fiber of his being behind the hold…a hold that will help him achieve his vindication.

Though that vindication is not yet achieved because Ba’al manages to crawl under the ropes and force the hold to be broken as he collapses to the outside mats.

Dollar: Whitman so unbelievably close to earning the submission….I thought he had Ba’al there for sure.

Whitman crawls to the center of the ring, at an absolute loss, unsure what he’s going to do next. But Ba’al has a clear plan of attack, hinging on the NHB Championship belt being slid to him by his half conscious sister. Ba’al takes the belt and rolls into the ring.

Dollar: Jaina tossing Ba’al his belt…..Whitman about to get as close to it as he ever will.

Ba’al rolls into the ring and although his shoulder is aching, he manages to lift the title, rush across the ring and swing the belt. It connects…..it being the gavel in Whitman’s hands. Ba’al finds his ribs bludgeoned by the blow, causing him to drop the belt and fall to his knees.

Dollar: Whitman with the gavel….the gavel right off of Ba’al’s stomach!

The rib shattering shot is not all Whitman has in store for Ba’al, staggering back but eventually collecting himself….collecting himself in anticipation of delivering a concussing blow from the gavel.

Dollar: Use that gavel, Whitman….USE IT!

Clarence looks down at the gavel, then to the back of Ba’al’s head, realizing that this is it….his golden ticket. He is so fixated on this final blow, as well as the fans, that nobody acknowledges Jonathan Collins jogging through the crowd with a steel chair in hand.

Fans: HIT HIM! HIT HIM! HIT HIM!

This is one request Whitman has no trouble fulfilling, raising the gavel, rushing forth and swinging. The weapon finds itself traveling towards Ba’al’s skull but never reaching its target. Whitman’s wrist is caught from behind, and now he’s being spun around right into an absolutely devastating chair shot delivered by Collins.

Dollar: It’s Collins…..Collins using the chair that the Pestilence stole from Whitman!

The steel bounces with incredible force off of Whitman’s skull, and yet he is still standing….Though that stubbornness proves to be detrimental. Ba’al lunges into the air behind Whitman, catches him around the neck and delivers the Totalis.

Dollar: And it set up for the Totalis!!

Collins vacates the ring, dropping to the mats, jumping the barricade and running back through the crowd while Ba’al drags his battle tested body over the extremely blooded Whitman, managing to hook his legs.

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The hand comes down for the three….bringing an end to Whitman’s pursuit for vengeance here tonight.

Dollar: Man oh man…what a match here tonight. Whitman and Ba’al….they just tore each other to pieces for the NHB Championship…with Whitman channeling a totally different aspect of himself tonight in a valiant attempt to lay claim to the title.

In spite of coming up short, Whitman still managed to vindicate himself in the eyes of the fans, and perhaps even the eyes of Ba’al. The individual the champion faced tonight was definitely not the lesser being, the weakling and wimp that the Prince of Sin chalked Whitman up to be. It took far more than Ba’al ever thought he would have to put into this match to retain the gold….having to fight for everything he was worth. But thanks to his endless parade of family and supporters, Ba’al rolls from the ring with the gold still in his clutches.

Dollar: That’s right Ba’al…you fought a MAN tonight.

An exhausted Ba’al backs up the ramp with Jaina limping along beside him, still holding her forehead after that drop toe hold into the steel. Ba’al is far worse for wear, nearly buckling as he holds the NHB title above his head. Yet even still he manages to flap his gums.

Ba’al: How dare you, Whitman….how dare you give these fans that false glimmer of hope. How dare you make them believe that they can rise above anything more than their current loathsome stations in life. You made them believe that a mortal man could rise to become a hero….but like all ‘heroes’ who rise in defiance against my Sinistry, you have been a vanquished and you have disappointed these people who are so eager to believe in your misguided fallacies.

The NHB Champion and his sister continue to back up the ramp and finally make their exit, leaving a bloodied Whitman in the ring. Even after the chair shot to his skull coupled with the Totalis, Clarence gets to his knees, and has the fans on their feet, delivering a standing ovation.

Dollar: Whitman being shown the respect he’s earned here tonight after one of the gutsiest performances I think any of us have ever witnessed.

The blood clotting his eyes is brushed aside with the back of his hand as Whitman remains kneeling, realizing that he came so incredibly close….but in spite of not winning the title…he has at last won respect for himself.

Speaking of respect, Aaron Harrison has none for anyone, save for the lady presently blocking his way to the ring.

Mika: Where are you going, my Cowboy?

As if the answer wasn’t obvious, considering the tape around his wrists and the pad being slid over his elbow.

Harrison: Really, my Mika, we both already know the answer to that question.

Mika: Tell me you’re not going to that ring.

Harrison: Then I would have to lie, and you know how I feel about liars.

He tries to walk around her…optimal word being ‘tries.’

Mika: You can’t go out there.

Harrison: I have a match my Mika, and an obligation to all our loyal Blacklist sympathizers. They expect me to compete tonight, and I’m not about to disappoint them.

Mika: But….but….your walking into a trap…don’t you realize that? Don’t you realize Orlando will be waiting for you out there?

Harrison: Oh…I’m counting on it my Mika.

Mika: Have you not seen what Orlando has done to Lukie, what he did to my cousin?

Harrison: What? Do you expect me to cower?

Mika: No.

Harrison Do you think I should flee?

Mika: Errrm no.

Harrison: Then what?

The hands that held Harrison in place, slide up and cup his cheek.

Mika: I expect you to use your big sexy brain, my Cowboy.

Instead of using his brain, Harrison thinks with another piece of his anatomy, moving his lips to Mika’s throat and sucking on her carotid.

Harrison: My dearest Mika, what makes you think I already haven’t been putting my brain to use?

Mika: Oh?

Harrison: Our experiment with Nikoali wasn’t the last of my collaborations tonight.

Kozlov tries to figure out what he means by that comment before seeing the IPhone in his palm,

Mika: Spencer.

Her diamond eyes shines.

INVICTUS

Legion holds the knee brace of Taylor Chase in his hands and stands over a nearly crippled World Champion.

Dollar: There are no lengths these athletes will not go to in order to win at Invictus.

Cassidy Cage is standing over Abigail Lindsey with her arms stretched to her sides for a hug.

Marie Jones has Romeo positioned for the Vindicator.

Brittany Lohan has Alana Starr positioned for the Final Solution.

And Rose Savior is dragging Mika Kozlov down into the Crown of Thorns on top of Hell in a Cell.

Ba’al: It has truly been a splendid event, yes?

With a sweaty brow and a number of contusions, Ba’al sits on an antiquated chair backstage, flanked by his family and all those in the sphere of the Sinistry’s influence.

Foxx: It would have gone better had Whitman not interfered in the crucifixion of the whore.

Rachel makes this statement while seated across the lap of the No Holds Barred Champion, her forehead wedged against his own.

Wilde: And if the old Gray-Wolf hadn’t stopped us from crippling Whitman in retaliation.

Jessica makes this statement while kneeling on the floor, the only of the Pestilence members with the courage to look up and speak to their master.

Rachel Frost: Kirian still retained his title, darlin’, so all is forgiven.

Ba’al: Yes, and in spite of their greatest efforts, neither Whitman, Buehler, nor the old Gray-Wolf, were capable of disrupting our plans. Hahaha, the fools are still blind…

Collins: Those sinful simpletons have no idea what’s REALLY going on right under their noses.

Collins makes this statement while pacing behind the backs of the kneeling Pestilence members.

Ba’al: Of course not, for their minds are too consumed with their sinful lust for wrath.

Foxx: They know nothing of wrath.

All of Foxx’s knuckles are pulled to Ba’al’s lips, kissing one after another.

Ba’al: The IWC’s illustrious World Champion, she will learn though….and at great cost.

Collins: She finds out tonight.

Ba’al: For the event meant to commemorate her reign, will fittingly see the end of it.

Frankie: Ooooh really?

All eyes turn towards the doorway, save for those belonging to the Pestilence, who stare to the floor. Before long Paradise, the man who lingers into the doorway, also examines the floor beneath the knees of Layon, Wilde and Executioner once he realizes its covered in broken shards of glass.

Frankie: Jesus, what kind of kinky shit did I just walk into the middle of?

Rachel Frost: Sweetheart, ya may just wanna state your reason for being here.

Ba’al: I would advise doing so expeditiously.

It takes Paradise a moment to wrap his mind around the macabre image of the Pestilence members kneeling upon broken glass.

Frankie: Ummmmm..yeeeaaah….all this tricky-dicky shit you’ve all been up to….It stops right now.

Ba’al: Does it? Because you demand it?

Frankie: That’s right, I’m the authority around here, and I’m ordering you all to stay away from Taylor Chase’s World Title celebration tonight.

Foxx: YOU? The authority? Laughable.

Ba’al: Indeed…and don’t bite the hand that feeds, Paradise. For the only reason you hold any throne of power in the iWC, is because the Sinistry has allowed it…

There’s a reason Paradise is still standing in the doorway and cautiously holds it open behind him.

Rachel Frost: To my understand, we’ve only allowed you to be in power on account of your blissful ignorance.

Ba’al: Yes, as to date, your willingness to turn a blind eye to the Sinistry’s actions has proven quite advantageous to us….but I’m afraid your usefulness has run its course…for now we have another tool that will ensure the Sinistry acts with total imputnity…

Frankie: Yadda-yadda-yadda….I hope you know the entire time you were talking I was looking at Foxx’s thighs….So can It, ya dig?

Instead of jealousy, Ba’al reacts with a smirk.

Ba’al: Well I certainly cannot blame you for admiring the ravishing beauty that is Rachel Foxx, much as you cannot blame me for using this title ceremony tonight to send a message to the beloved World Champion.

Frankie: It’s not happening. And as far as this whole ‘impunity’ thing goes…that ain’t crappening either. As of this moment, you can all consider yourselves a bunch of Rebel Wilson’s skating on extremely thin ice. So if any you decide to TRY in interfere in that ceremony, I will strip you, Ba’al, of BOTH the NHB Championship AND your Number One Contendership.

Instead of wrath, Ba’al reacts with a chuckle.

Ba’al: Very well….Are you through?

Frankie: You just try to test me tonight, Cannibal Holocaust, and you’ll regret it.

Ba’al: Oh Franklin, that’s where your wrong…for when you live a life without sin…you have no regrets.

AARON HARRISON VS. ROMEO DAMASCUS

A choir is already producing a heavenly melody in the background as Romeo makes his way down the ramp in anticipation of his mightiest challenge to date.

Dollar: Man…it seems that Whitman wasn’t the only one who grew a sack. We’re seeing a different side of Paradise here tonight….Ever since Hell in a Cell, he’s seemingly developed a spine. But are we about to see a spine broken in a few moments when Romeo here takes on his toughest challenge to date?

Romeo, the man who came up short in the Invictus four way, looks to rebound by potentially scoring a victory over the ever so elusive Aaron Harrison. Damascus is about to do just that, sliding through the ropes, in store for quite the war tonight.

Dollar: Romeo had a major opportunity slip through his fingers at the biggest pay-per-view of the year, but tonight, he has another big opportunity should he defeat the maniacal Harrison.

Can Romeo do that? Can he vanquish one of the most destructive forces on the entire IWC roster? And can he do it alone? We WON’T have to find out the answer to that question.

Orlando: Aaron, your time has run out.

The place reacts with fervor at the sight of the Icon stepping down the ramp…and much like during Whitman’s entrance, Orlando carries along his weapon of mass destruction, a kendo-stick.

Dollar: Uh-oh…looks to me like Romeo won’t even get a chance to pick up that big win tonight, because Harrison is never going to make it past Orlando.

The President stops directly at the end of the ramp, ensuring that Harrison will have go through him to reach the ring.

Orlando: No more running…no more hiding behind others….you are going to fight me….and you are going to fight me right here, right now, right in front of all these New Yorkers…

Yep, somehow even when emotionally overwhelmed, Orlando manages to work in a cheap-pop.

Orlando: The Manhattan Center is about to be ground zero for the final battle between Orlando Cruze and the Blacklist….The end comes tonight…And it only ends when I stand over your broken, crumpled body Harrison, while your head is impaled on the end of this kendo-stick.

The weapon is held up high, eliciting a greater pop.

Orlando: So Harrison, you’ve got one of two choices. Either you continue to hide backstage and take a forfeit loss to Romeo, or you come out here and we settle this….

Spencer: That’s where your wrong, Orlando, because there’s a third option.

The voice of Spencer Klein, the very man that tased Orlando in the cheek at Invictus, fills the arena, but there is no sight of him. That is until the Cartel-tron flashes to life, revealing Spencer Klein standing outdoors, holding an IPhone camera up to his face.

Spencer: You’ve always been so narrow minded, Orlando, much like everyone who has stigmatized and disparaged against the Blacklist. You think you know Harrison, Montgomery and Kozlov, and all they are capable of. But you have no idea, Cruze, you have no clue what lengths they can stoop to when they truly put their minds to it. You should have learned this on day one, when Kellen Jeffries laid there in the center of that ring and burned alive. And you should have been reminded of it, when I took a taser and on behalf of my family, I positively electrified you.

The mentioning of the tasing has Orlando flashing white hot….about to enter full Kill Bill mode. If only Spencer were in the building, instead of in some undisclosed location.

Spencer: But no…you’re still convinced that when you fight the Blacklist, you’re dealing with men and women. You’re wrong. For we’re not driven by ambition. We’re not driven by celebrity. We’re not driven by love or acceptance. We’re driven by an all-consuming need for pain. To see others suffer. So the Blacklist isn’t comprised of men and women…for men and women, they worry about crossing lines…They fear alienating others…They want to go out and be just another sheep, another member of the mindless herd. But the Blacklist…we’re the wolves….and we feast on the sheep….Sheep that delude themselves into believing that was just a rustling in the bushes…that it was just the wind….when really…it’s the Blacklist….ready to feast upon the carrion.

Cruze goes increasingly aggravated and impatient, really wanting to hit someone with the cane.

Spencer: You still think the Blacklist is capable of holding back, but they can’t be tamed…not the group that I BRED!

The IPhone pulls back to reveal the can of gasoline in Klein’s opposite hand.

Spencer: I think you need another reminder, Orlando.

The very beach front bungalow that has become the private sanctum for Orlando Cruze and Taylor Chase comes into view.

Spencer: Such a beautiful home, filled with so many beautiful things and so many beautiful memories….But much like your entire world, Orlando, it’s all going to come burning down…

Orlando: No….nooooo….

Orlando is having an out of body experience as he sees the trail of gas leading from Spencer’s feet, to the front door of his beachfront hacienda.

Spencer: You foolishly believed Mika wouldn’t disclose to me the location of your love shack with Taylor Chase? See, yet again you misjudged a member of the Blacklist as being capable of conscious. Your belief that the Blacklist contains even a shred of humanity, is why you will lose to them again, and again, and why everything you believe in…be it your misguided morals and idealism….will go up in flames.

There is nothing Orlando can do but watch as the gasoline can is lowered so that Spencer can remove a lighter from his pocket and throw it towards the house. The flame ignites and shoots towards the front door, immediately engulfing it in flames. The IPhone then turns back towards Spencer’s face, capturing the dread embedded in his black eyes.

Spencer: The Blacklist sends their regards.

The signal is cut, but Orlando is already racing up the ramp before he even hears these final chilling words. Hopefully Cruze can get to his cellphone and contact authorities to save the home shared between himself and Taylor.

Dollar: This is not……what…I was…expecting at all.

It’s not what ANYONE was anticipating, especially the President of the IWC. Even Romeo looks mildly perturbed by the footage he was forced to endure.

Dollar: The home of Orlando Cruze and World Champion Taylor Chase, it just…it just was sent up in flames by Spencer Klein…apparently by request of Aaron Harrison.

And we don’t have to wait long to see one of the masterminds behind this collaborative case of arson.

How does Harrison make his entrance? By use of a taser, a device he wedges to the spine of a distracted Romeo…..sending electrical currents dispersing throughout his body.

Dollar: Harrison! Harrison, he’s tasing…HE’S TASING ROMEO!

The fans haven’t even fully gotten over their outrage over seeing Spencer set fire to the Cruze family estate before bearing witness to this reprehensible assault via taser.

Romeo twitches and gyrates, yet somehow remains on his feet just long enough to turn, totally absent of thought and foaming at the mouth into a boot to the gut. Harrison hooks both of Romeo’s arms and heaves him up into the air before at last dumping him straight across the back of his head with the Hybrid Theory.

Dollar: First the taser, and now the Hybrid Theory! There truly is no ends to the depravity of the Blacklist.

After this dangerous planting of Romeo’s neck against the canvas, Harrison manages to crawl intot he lateral press. Official Ingelson slides into the ring, neck brace, arm cast all, and makes the count with his one good remaining limb.

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Dollar: This is seriously how this is going to end?

Yep.

3!

The fans couldn’t be any more hostile if Harrison had come out and skinned an entire litter of puppies….cute puppies…not those ugly Chinese crested Chihuahua mixes either.

Dollar: Romeo caught completely unaware and unassuming. Harrison caught him from behind with that taser, and then that set him up for the Hybrid Theory.

Though Romeo is showing no signs of life after the Hybrid Theory, Harrison is enlivened. He stands up and approaches the ropes, snapping his fingers as he insists on the use of a microphone.

Dollar: Ooooh don’t make it worse, Harrison, please! Haven’t you done enough already?

Aaron takes a cloth out of his pocket and dabs it across it brow, as if the match actually made him break a sweat.

Harrison: Thanks for pushing me to my limits tonight, Romeo. I think we just gave these people the five star classic they’ve been begging for.

The cynicism is not wasted on an increasingly harsh audience.

Harrison: And thank you, Spencer Klein, for overlooking your anger directed at the Blacklist to help make all of this a possibility.

He gestures towards the twitching Romeo on the canvas, who is now receiving medical aid from several EMTs.

Harrison: Although Spencer will no doubt embellish further on his role within the Blacklist….I can tell you that he is the patriarch of this family…And like any good father, he has to crack down on his children from time to time…but not to tear them down….it’s so that he can build them up. And the Blacklist, with Klein beside us, will rise to whole new levels….or in his words….stoop to whole new lows.

He points to the Cartel-tron, reminding everyone of the heinous footage aired moments earlier.

Harrison: The man has already been quite influential in guiding us. At Invictus….he assisted us in our victory over Orlando…and therein lies a problem. Spencer told us as much. We never should have been so dependent on him to defeat Cruze..and the fact that Orlando managed to show up for Taylor Chase’s post match celebration later that night, was also cause for contention. There shouldn’t have been ANYTHING left of the Icon….let alone enough to manage to celebrate with Chase….So even in victory, it made us look inferior…..in my eyes, and in the eyes of Spencer Klein. So what’s one to do? How am I to make this right? By accepting Orlando’s challenge?

A sneer…yep…that same damn sneer that has become so accustomed to Harrison’s face, returns.

Harrison: So that I can cripple him to the point where he can never celebrate again? Hmmmm….would that appease Spencer? Would that appease the voice in the back of my head that tells me that I let my family down? Will that put our MOVEMENT back on the right trac….?

The image of Aaron Harrison is distorted, and his maniacal words are abruptly cut short. That same chilling video of a church seated on a hill overtakes the screen. The eroded walls are there…the overgrown vegetation is there….the fire pit shooting light into the night air is there…and two shadows cast upon a wall are visible.

Voice: My brothers…my sisters…my children…

This is no longer a voice-over, it can actually be heard emanating from the church.

Voice:….All your lives you have fought against your sinister urges, your dark desires…you have struggled to live a righteous life. But no more. That struggle ends tonight. Your fight to maintain humanity, is a battle that no longer need be waged. For the Movement….has…..COMETH.

The camera that encroaches upon the church suddenly spins around, violently whipped into a close up on an irritated eye, and a dilated pupil.

A piercing scream cuts through the still of the night.

The video stops playing and we are brought back to the ring where Aaron Harrison finds himself with an expression of…shock? His eyes fixed on the head of Romeo Damascus flung over top of a shield. Blood gushes from the multiple lacerations in Damascus’s skull into the engravings of the black shield that props his mutilated face. And even more disturbing is the visual of a man kneeling beside the sacrificial lamb that is Damascus, holding a goblet that catches Romeo’s blood as it runs over the edges of the shield.

Harrison is legitimately surprised by this startling visual, and even more surprised that the gentleman holding the goblet doesn’t even seem to register Aaron as being there. His eyes….or what are SUPPOSED to be eyes, stare only into the liquid that pools in the sacred cup.

Billy: Amanda-Amanda….Hey!

Amanda Blayze had her nose buried in a book….surprisingly people still read those things….and was about half way into the parking lot before being caught up to by a huffing and puffing Billy Mayne. He doubles over, trying to catch his breath.

Blayze: Yeeeeess?

Billy: Hey there…Billy-Billy Mayne.

He extends his hand for a shake…only to find the gesture not being reciprocated.

Blayze: How about that.

These words are spoken as wryly as possible.

Billy: Now-now…control yourself…I know you’re amazed to be in the company of the former Head of Media Relations, and the NEWEST member of the backstage correspondent pool, considering Comeau’s bender has put him on the shelf….

Blayze: Oh….so you’re here for an interview then? Because I was just on my way out of the building.

Billy: I-I promise I’ll make this short.

Blayze: That’s a promise you had better keep.

Billy: First, congratulations for being the first person interviewed in my auspicious return….

Blayze: Oh lord….can’t you get the puppet to do this interview instead?

Billy: Now that we’ve got that out of the way…the world HAS to know….what are your thoughts on the announcement that Brittany Lohan’s contract has expired?

Amanda’s response, no response at all.

Billy: An announcement that pretty much negates your submission over Pearson at Invictus that guaranteed you a future one on one match with Lohan.

Her lack of a verbal reply has Billy growing increasingly timid.

Billy: How do you feel knowing that all your hardwork at Invictus was for absolutely nothing?

The silence persists until the mood is lightened by a smile tentatively forming on Amanda’s lips.

Blayze: So you actually BUY this story?

Instead of being timid, Billy is now confused.

Billy: What story?

Blayze: This bill of goods Brittany is trying to feed everyone. Honestly, if you’re a reporter, you should know better than to believe everything you read on the internet.

Billy: But I have it on very good authority that this isn’t one of those dirt sheet rumors. EVERYONE has been talking about it here tonight.

Blayze: Idle gossip.

Billy: Are you in denial or something?

Blayze; Nooo, I’m being smart. I know how Brittany operates. I stood by and watched her manipulate and toy with Alana Starr for months, subjecting her to the uncertainty that Starr would finally have her one on one match against Lohan. But it was all to get into Alana’s head, to warp her mind, to throw her off of her game. Cause see, Brittany is just as dangerous cerebrally as she is physically. But I’m not about to play this game, I’m not falling into this trap.

Billy: But there’s no refuting it…she’s gone….

Blayze: Yeah, just like she wasn’t in the building at Last Stand? And remind me, how did that pan out? Oh yeah, she showed up at the last second and screwed Alana out of a potential rumble win. Face it…Brittany is playing you and everyone else like fools, and I refuse to be toyed around with and manipulated any longer.

Billy is seemingly incapable of grappling with this stubborn denial.

Billy: You do realize that even Orlando Cruze has confirmed Brittany’s departure, right?

Blayze: Orlando’s just another unwitting pawn, nothing more.

Billy: You honestly think Lohan would go through so much trouble, just for you?

He really…really needs a better filter.

Blayze: Excuse me?

Billy: Ummm…maybe that came out wrong.

Surprisingly Blayze does not lash out and maintains a calm aura.

Blayze: You don’t believe this is all a set up by Lohan? I’ll prove it.

Amanda takes off into the parking lot….on a mission.

Cameras return to the traumatized fans, who find themselves in a shocked hush.

They feel more violated than any child invited on a Michael Jackson sleep-over.

Dollar: What a bizarre turn of events we just witnessed….and I’m glad to see that I’m not the only one stunned….Just look at the expressions of these fans…..We’re all pretty much speechless after the “MOVEMENT” began.

MOMENTS AGO

First we’re treated to an image of Harrison tasing Romeo, before following it up with the Hybrid Theory.

Dollar: What a bad night for Romeo….First he was scheduled to compete against Harrison, only to get TAZED….then things just got odd.

The footage produced by the Movement is relived and culminates to a exsanguinated Romeo lying over a shield, with his blood coursing through the engraving of the steel and dropping down into a goblet held by a shadowy figment knelt beside Damascus.

Dollar: Whatever the Movement is….and whomever is behind this….they just drained Romeo right in the middle of the ring in a scene that even surprised Harrison.

Dollar: And speaking of surprising….

Those shocked fans part out of the way of Silas Mason and Kelcey Wallace, who make their way down the steps.

Dollar: It’s Silas Mason and former SCW World Champion Kelcey Wallace….We saw these two interfere in the main event at Invictus….And I can only assume that they’re here for what’s scheduled to happen next. That being the Taylor Chase title celebration.

Security instantly gets in the way of Silas, trying to cut him off only for his fingers to snap and tickets to go slipping into them. Wallace hands him two front row tickets to the event, which he then shoves into the scrawnier of the guards who tried to keep him from getting anywhere close to the ring. Once security confirms that the tickets are authentic, they step out of the way and let the Stetson wearing Silas and the very well dressed Kelcey, take their respective seats.

Dollar: Well ladies and gentlemen, up next we’re scheduled to see the Taylor Chase title celebration….but now things have just gotten even more interesting with the addition of Silas Mason and Kelcey Wallace at ringside.

Silas snaps his fingers until a twenty slips between them, one that he hands to the nearest vendor….getting hold of a giant salted pretzel.

Taylor Chase prepares to close the show the same way it opened, with a giant smile on her face. With the World Heavyweight Title over her shoulder and an IPhone in her palm, she heads down the corridor and towards the ring to be shown her due respect. Though her phone manages to complicate matters….blasted technology….Apparently playing Candy Crush for the duration of the night taxed the battery to the point where it has been completely drained.

Dollar: And there we see Taylor….who from the looks of things doesn’t seem to have any idea what the Blacklist just did to her home with Orlando.

She wanted so badly to send some tweets throughout her celebration, but the phone won’t switch back on….the battery deceased.

Dollar: It’s probably for the best that Chase-Cruze has no clue what happened to her house, because she’s not going to want to miss a moment of this big celebration coming up NEXT!

Fans are gathered outside of the Manhattan Center, some taking a smoke break, and others turned away at the doors. But even those who couldn’t make it into the building still get in on the fun…fun being the sound of screeching tires in the distance.

Focus shifts from cigarettes and half empty beer cans to the Lamborghini Aventador that comes racing towards the Manhattan Center. It stops dead in the middle of the street and begins to do donuts kicking up smoke from its back tires.

The fans begin to cheer at the sight of the incredibly expensive Lamborghini producing these tricks. And they are given even more cause for screaming when the door to the car opens and William Mason exits. The outdoor fans begin to gather around the car that William climbs up on top of, standing above the spectators with a megaphone in his hands.

William: Powerful…intelligent…..wealthy….these are just some of the adjectives used to describe William Mason….And now you can associate another adjective with yours truly….UNDEFEATED!

Many of the fans are hooping and hollering….creating quite the ruckus.

William: At the grand spectacle, the streak began, one that will continue not only from year to year at Invictus, but from every single Riot and New-Age in between. Mark my words, William Mason will do what no one else ever has….I will NEVER be pinned, I will never be forced to submit…I will stand triumphant after every encounter….I will put together a legendary winning streak highlighted by victory year after year at Invictus and culminating to the crowning of a new World Heavyweight Champion.

A wink, a nod, and a smile.

William: That’s right, soon enough, Mason WILL have it all….and that includes the World Heavyweight Championship!

After making this bold proclamation, Mason points to the Manhattan Center, where another bold display is witnessed. An explosion of pyrotechnics shoot from the roof of the building and then a huge canopy drops down, revealing a photoshopped portrait of William Mason holding the IWC World Heayweight Title over his shoulder while striking a thinking man’s posture, fingers cupping his jaw. The words “SOON TO BE THE FACE OF THE IWC” written across this nauseating image.

Silas Mason, owner of Silas Wordwide, and Kelcey Wallace, one of his many clients, remain fixed to their front row seats with nachos now propped on the advisor’s knee-cap.

Dollar: Big statement made here tonight by William Mason on the heels of his victory over former World Champion, Hurse….He’s making his desires for the big title known, but Silas Mason might have something to say about that considering that Taylor Chase is now under the umbrella of his influence.

Silas’ eyes stare forth from behind his dark sunglasses, observing all the decorations set in place for tonight’s festivities. Everyone prepares for the fun and hullaballoo about to follow as the title celebration commences.

Dollar; And now ladies and gentlemen….it’s time…time for the Taylor Chase Title Celebration.

Standing amongst the streamers, amongst the bouquets of flowers and a number of structures covered in tarps, is ring announcer Thomas Boll.

Thomas: Lady and gentlefolk, time now for celebration. Please, be kind, welcome the….

Adam Chase: Number One Contender, LUCAS KNIGHT!

The fans react as bad as a spastic colon at the sight of Lucas Knight stepping to the stage with Alana Starr at one side, and his agent Adam Chase at the other.

Dollar: Say what now?

The trio head towards the ring with Adam taking point.

Chase: Because the time has come for Lucas APPRECIATION NIGHT!

Dollar: Uhhhh…again…what?

Chase Global heads up the steps and into the ring while Adam pauses on the apron, grimacing towards Silas Mason.

Dollar: Is Chase Global seriously hijacking Taylor Chase’s title celebration?

You betcha they are.

Lucas steps to the center of the ring where stagehands have set a stool up for him.

Alana takes the liberty of dusting off the stool so that Knight’s bottom can be unsullied by any dirt.

Adam takes the liberty of doing his best Paul Bettany, a Knight’s Tale impersonation, by hyping the already overhyped.

Chase: We come together tonight to honor the accolades of the most legendary athlete in this industry’s illustrious history…..

The agent’s palm falls on his client’s shoulder.

Chase: Lucas Knight’s influence on professional wrestling will be felt well beyond his retirement. For his, is the only legacy that transcends wrestling and crosses over into multiple industries. Everyone knows who Lucas Knight is….from the TMZ reporters hiding in his bushes, to Hollywood Agents dying to recruit his beautiful face for celluloid….Everyone wants a piece of Lucas….everyone wants to be part of his epic, legendary legacy. A-List celebs, they want cred by hobnobbing with Knight. Sporting stars come to the court, or race to the field to the tracks of Lucas Knight’s entrance theme….Why, because they all want to be associated with a man who is BIGGER than professional wrestling….The Infamous Legend…..Britain’s greatest import….the past, the present, and without a doubt, the FUTURE of this sport….Lukas Knight!

A grin forms on Knight’s face thanks to this epic of introductions. Yet before he has a chance to ham it up….Adam turns focus to the Cartel-tron….which fills with the cheesiest inspirational video ever produced.

To the tracks of “Don’t Stop Believing” by Journey we see pictures of Lucas Knight as a child….and then we watch his evolution over time….We see him as a youth standing alongside many wrestling legends of yesteryear in various locker-rooms spread all over England…following his father as daddy dearest plied his craft from venue to venue.

With every photograph Lucas gets bigger and bigger, older and wiser, buffer and buffer, more and more adept to the grappling arts.

Old videos show him being trained by many of the legends that he was photographed alongside as a child. All this preparation culminates to his epic debut on American soil.

The inspirational montage showers us with images of Knight hanging out with Pete Ebdon and Aaron Simon Kalis, the group known as the Order of Chaos. This is followed by shots of his association with the members of Infamous. And predictably we then see him holding up a number of famed championships, from the United States, to the Underground, to the biggest of the big, the World Heavyweight Title.

A handkerchief has been handed to Knight so that he can pretend to wipe his eyes and blow his nose. Alana soothes her emotional boyfriend, rubbing his upper back and giving his hair a tussle.

Lucas: If I possessed ovaries, we would all be in trouble right now.

Chase: I know your touched, Lucas. You’ve led a career that many would love to emulate, but no one will ever be able to duplicate. You are truly an original….a one kind of athlete defying the limitations and the expectations of this industry. You’ve held multiple titles…and the respect of both fans and peers for decades. Many women have loved you, many men have tried to be you, and every wrestler in this business is envious of you. You are timeless….you are infamous…..you are Lucas Knight….and this is the moment where you are at long last shown the appreciation befitting a man of your magnificence.

The microphone is handed over to Knight, who tries to speak over the sounds of a retching audience.

Knight: I don’t know what to say. I guess a thank you is in order….

Alana: Don’t thank anyone, Lucas. Because mi amor, you deserve this…and have deserved this recognition for a very long time. Which you proved at Invictus when you overcame all the obstacles to become Number One Contender….

Knight’s pompous smile returns.

Chase: Which means that very soon, we’ll be seeing images like these again.

One of the objects covered in a tarp is revealed, Chase pulling away the sheet to show a stature of Lucas Knight with the SCW World Heavyweight Title chiseled into the waist.

A mesmerized Lucas admires the wonderfully sculpted marble masterpiece.

Chase: Just think, Lucas, in a matter of weeks you won’t have to look at this statue to relive your golden years, all you’ll need to do is gaze in a mirror to see the reflection of your handsome mug, and the World Heavyweight Title donning your shoulder. In just a sparse few weeks, at Extreme Fury, on your home-turf, Lucas Knight becomes Champion again, and returns respect, entertainment and …..

”Boss’s Daughter” plays over the PA system, and the woman who was SUPPOSED to be showered with praise, Taylor Chase, at long-long last makes her way to the ring.

Dollar: World Champion Taylor Chase on her way out here….and….is she actually smiling?

The grinning Chase heads for the man who has an equally as pronounced grin. Lucas does not rise from his seat to acknowledge the woman who has just disrupted this magical moment. In a respectful display, Chase parts the cables for his niece, who instead leaps over the perpendicular ropes. With microphone in hand Tay passes her uncle and the Good Girl, Alana, so that she can address the boastful number one contender to Taylor’s title.

Taylor: Wow Lucas, this is….this is….

She looks at the statue and cringes.

Taylor:….something alright.

Knight: Only the best for the best.

Taylor: It’s been an interesting ‘Appreciation Night,’ that’s for certain.

Chase: Only the greatest appreciation night in the history of appreciation nights. This is probably getting higher ratings than ‘Rock, This is Your Life.’

Taylor: I won’t argue with that, and normally I wouldn’t complain at all, but you guys have kind of stole my thunder here, haven’t you? This was supposed to be a celebration for my accolades. A tribute for successfully defending my title against the single greatest threat to my title, Legion….

Knight: Correction. He WAS the single greatest threat your title.

Taylor: That remains to be seen.

The crowd responds with a ‘no she didn’t.’

Knight: Now-now Tay…..relax. This is all in good fun.

The decorations that offended Chase so, are gestured towards by the infamous legend.

Taylor: You’re trying to get a bit of a rise out of me, huh?

Chase: Mission accomplished. Relax though Tay….

One of the decorations, covered in a tarp, is revealed, showing a Taylor Chase life-size cut-out beneath.

Chase: We still have all your decorations in place, and you can feel free to have your little ‘celebration’ once we’ve finished showing appreciation to a man who has no doubt had quite the influence on your career….you’re Number One Contender.

Knight: Like we said, Tay, we do this all in good spirit….

Silas: Good spirits….is that riiiight, is that riiiight?

No one lifts a finger to stop Mason as he leaps over the barricade and finds a microphone, climbing up to the apron. A reluctant Kelcey follows behind, keeping her head lowered and eyes adverted from Chase’s face.

Silas: Don’t believe what their tellin’ ya, baby-doll. It’s all a lie.

Silas makes sure to hold down his Stetson hat as he slides through the ropes into the ring. Not one member of Chase Global reacts favorably to Mason’s intrusion, especially Lucas.

Silas: This “Appreciation Night” is a straight slap in da face. This is just another example, Tay, of the disrespect everyone around these here parts have been showin’ ya since the moment you won that World Heavyweight Championship.

Chase and Alana try to refute these accusations, but Lucas just sits there, brooding in silence.

Silas: These ‘friends’ of yours, ain’t no different than anyone else, baby-doll. They don’t think ya deserve a tribute, because they don’t think ya deserve to be World Heavyweight Champion. It’s just like I’ve been tellin’ ya, nobody in this here company, believes in ya. No one supports ya. But I do…cause I’m the one man capable of looking at ya reign objectively, from the outside in.

Taylor, who initially wanted to rip Silas tongue out, now finds herself incapable of being seduced by it.

Silas: These ‘friends,’ smile at ya through clinched teeth, but the second ya back is turned, their joining in all da gossip in the locker-room, all da insults directed at ya. That makes ‘em worse than enemies, Tay. At least ya enemies let ya know what they think of ya….They don’t lie to ya face then talk behind ya back. Even ya own family, has joined in with the disrespect.

Adam vehemently refutes this claim.

Silas: He’s backing Lucas here, over ya. He obviously don’t believe that ya deserve the championship, and he’s ya own flesh and blood, what does that tell ya, baby-doll?

Something she obviously doesn’t want to hear. Taylor’s head lowers, finding herself incapable of looking into her Uncle’s face.

Silas: Not one cotton-pickin’ soul in the IWC believes in ya, not ya Uncle, not ya Husband…..not anybody. Kelcey and I, we believe though. We know ya worked ya fine ass off to win that title and to keep on retainin’ it time after time. It don’t matter tho’, not to guys like Lucas Knight. They’ll just keep on draggin ya legacy through the muck…..They’ll just keep on treatin’ ya like some lucky socialite who can’t wrassle her way out of a paper bag….

Mika: Hold on…Hold on…Hold on, krasivyy.

The ring continues to fill, with Mika Kozlov now making her way to the squared circle. She too wants to be part of this conversation, sliding in to join in with the fray.

Mika: You’re wrong, Silas…..

Silas: Am I now sweet-thing?

Mika: Not everyone in Chase’s family has lost respect for her. I’ve always, and will always support my malishka. Until the day we die I will continue to be there for her.

The fact that she said ‘we’ when referring to death, as if implying that Mika would never leave the earth without Taylor, is a choice of words not overlooked by the World Heavyweight Champion.

Mika: I still believe in you, Taylor. In spite of what everyone else says backstage, I always take up for you. Even when Knight and Uncie Adam are telling all the competitors in the back that their effortlessly going to take the title away from you at Extreme Fury, I’m not buying into it like everyone else.

Tay turns her head towards Lucas, who has his eyes closed and is shaking his head with a big grin on his face.

Knight: That’s ridiculous.

Mika: They may believe you will be no challenge to Lucas…..but after we’ve clashed several times over the past few weeks, I can tell Chase Global that they are in store for a challenge unlike anything they’ve ever faced before….a battle with an absolute monster. I can tell them that they are going to regret taking you lightly….much in the same way you, Tay, are regretting taking me lightly when we fought all those months ago.

Mika’s win over Chase is still a very sore spot for the Champion.

Mika: Lucas….

She directs her words straight to Knight’s face.

Mika: How could you ‘CLAIM’ to be Taylor’s friend…then turn around and join in with all the jokes being made at her expense backstage? I thought you, above anyone else, would be the type of competitor that would respect and appreciate the challenge that lies ahead, but instead, your just like the Black Crusade…You don’t consider Taylor to be a challenge at all. You look right through her….and are already counting down the days to Extreme Fury where you capture the gold. You need to learn some respect for Taylor….You and Uncie Adam, need to stop ridiculing her to everyone who will listen. You are not the one who needs to be shown some appreciation….it is Taylor who deserves respect…all the respect in the world. And even though you don’t believe Chase deserves that respect, I DO.

Lucas is still condescendingly shaking his head.

Mika: Come on malishka, let’s show this durak why you deserve respect.

A big sap knocks that condescending expression off of Knight’s face, and almost topples him out of his chair. He is finally sent collapsing to the ground when Mika dives on top of him in spider-moneky fashion, dropping him to the canvas and subjecting him to numerous closed fists.

Dollar: The powder-keg exploding…Mika attacking Lucas!

Taylor seems to be in shock….unable to react as she witnesses this…Mika attacking Knight on her behalf.

She remains unresponsive even when Alana nails Mika with a running boot to the temple, knocking her off of Knight.

Now it’s Starr’s turn to mount Kozlov’s chest, delivering punch after punch directly to her face. All the while Lucas is gathering himself, trying to recover after that unprovoked and unexpected attack.

Speaking of unexpected….Kelcey Wallace is now sliding a steel chair into the ring at the behest of Silas. He snatches up the steel as quickly as possible and throws it to Taylor.

Chase has no other alternative but to catch the weapon before it can hit her, now holding the steel between her hands. Steel that Silas insists Chase put into the spine of the prone Knight.

Silas: He disrespected you behind your back, Tay….time for you to stab him in his!

Reluctance is shown by the World Heavyweight Champion….not buying fully into Silas’ BS.

Silas: Destroy em, Chase, show em why he shouldn’t be takin’ ya so lightly.

Tay looks towards someone else for guidance, that someone being Kelcey, who keeps her eyes affixed to the floor, offering no suggestions of her own.

Silas: If ya wanna be close to her….

Silas’ finger wags towards Wallace at ringside.

Silas: You’ll do this.

The chair trembles in Chase’s clutches, overwhelmed with a convolution of emotions.

Silas: If you wanna retain the World Title….

Silas’ finger wags towards the belt dropped at Chase’s feet.

Silas: You’ll do this.

Taylor takes a step towards the still ailing Knight.

Silas: If you want him to respect ya….

Silas’ finger wags towards Knight’s exposed back.

Silas: You’ll do this.

Taylor takes another step and retracts the chair on the cusp of delivering a spine shattering blow.

Chase: No…NO Tay!

A mortified Chase leaps between Tay and her intended target.

Chase: Don’t listen to this guy!

Desmond: Excuse me….

As the violence and the temptation continues in the ring, Desmond Drake strolls to the stage, ready to unleash something worse than a chair shot.

Desmond: Before this goes any further….

Begins the pint-sized half owner of the IWC.

Desmond: I believe someone else would like to weigh in….a man who the General Manager ATTEMPTED to keep away from this celebration, but I have overturned that decision so that my new business associate, and spiritual advisor can say his peace.

Without warning Kelcey finds herself being dragged down into the Totalis at ringside by Ba’al.

Dollar: HEY! Ba’al!!

The building shakes with shock and awe at the sight of Ba’al connecting with his finishing move on the totally unsuspecting Wallace, driving the back of her head HARD against the mats. Stunned doesn’t even begin to describe Taylor who watches the man who just brutalized her best friend sliding into the ring in front of her. Almost immediately she swings the chair at his skull, but Ba’al ducks under, causing the steel to miss his skull by mere inches. He then steps behind Tay and begins to speak venomous words that threaten to poison Chase.

Ba’al: Yes Taylor, that is wrath you feel my dear…and wrath is sin.

A furious Taylor looks remorsefully upon Kelcey at ringside, distracting her from the venom she is about to feel rather than hear. Ba’al leaps into the air, catches her around the neck and sets for the Totalis. But that plan is averted through Lucas’ intervention. He rushes in behind Ba’al and catches him in mid-air, pulling him back out of the Totalis and into position for the Monarchy Rules. His vertibreaker is just about to connect to a thunderous reaction only for the tune to change.

Silas: BEHIND YOU, TAY!

The warning from a smirking Silas, inspires Tay to whip around and swing the chair into the skull of the man she THINKS is lurking over her shoulders. Instead the chair cracks directly into the cranium of an unsuspecting Knight.

Dollar: Taylor just hit Lucas! She just hit Lucas!

That look of remorse for Kelcey, now becomes a look of remorse for Taylor’s own actions. She drops the chair and glares down at the laid out Knight, in absolute disbelief over what she’s just done. Alana also notices the fate of her boyfriend, and instead of becoming remorseful, she’s vengeful. About to go after Tay only to be grabbed by the back of her waistband and dragged down through the ropes by Mika. Starr is unable to avenge her boyfriend, crashing with a splat across the outside mats.

Taylor’s regrets continue to haunt her, both spiritually and physically. Ba’al picks up the chair, which finds its way off the canvas and into Taylor’s lungs. The Word Champion doubles over and then Ba’al pulls the steel down directly into Chase’s upper back, causing her to unleash a scream louder than the sound of the chair cracking off her bones.

Dollar: The chair in the hands of the worse possible individual imaginable.

The sadistic zealot lifts the chair in anticipation of dealing further damage on Chase only to have Silas at last pay dividends for his client. He leaps in and grabs the chair elevated above Ba’al’s head, trying to fight it out of his clutches, but the grip of the Sinistry member will not be broken. He turns his snake like eyes on his target, who immediately stops trying to tear the chair out of Ba’al’s grips, and instead attempts to use his words to manipulate his way out of this situation.

Dollar: If there is one man that Silas Mason cannot manipulate…..it’s Ba’al…..This is a situation you are NOT talking your way out of Silas.

Mason continues to flap his gums to little effect on Ba’al, but to detrimental effects on himself. The chair rises above Ba’al’s head and threatens to silence Mason when Mika suddenly intervenes. She spins the NHB Champion into a boot against the mid-section followed by a double arm DDT.

Dollar: Kozlov! Kozlov with revenge for what happened on the last Riot!….This is just pure madness.

Ba’al flips onto his back after Mika has employed her last vestige of strength to deliver that devastating DDT. She crawls away from Ba’al, while someone else crawls towards him. That someone is Kelcey Wallace.

Her head is rattled by the Totalis, but she manages to climb on top of Ba’al nevertheless, and begin to subject his face to closed fist after closed fist after closed fist. All the while Silas is antagonizing both Ba’al and Kelcey alike….shouting at Wallace in an attempt to intensify her efforts.

Silas: Lay into that freak, baby-girl….Give ‘em sum.

She gives him more than some…her knuckles reddening against the bones in Ba’al’s face.

Dollar: Kelcey Wallace is getting her revenge….

STATIC

Lights out.

Dollar: Scratch that.

Lights on.

Legion stands in the middle of the ring one palm engulfing the head of Kelcey with the Five Finger Crawl, the other stuck down the throat of Silas with the Mandible Claw.

Dollar: LEGION! He’s got both Silas AND Kelcey….I guess this is the target he’s moved on to…the very individuals who interfered in his match at Invictus.

Kelcey and Silas try to wrangle themselves free from the grips of the oppressive Legion, but there is no escape from his wrath..well….almost no escape. Mika manages to exert enough pressure on Silas’ leg to pull him out of the Mandible Claw and out of the ring.

Dollar: Mika saving Silas? In the immortal words of Hurricane Helms, what’s up wit dat?

Unfortunately Kelcey wasn’t so lucky, continuing to be punished by method of the devastating Five Finger Crawl that has her brain feeling like its being transformed into nothing but pudding at this point. And Legion would do just that, exert such pressure that the skull cracks in his bare hand, if he didn’t notice Ba’al staggering around in front of him.

Yes….the Number One Contender recovered at the absolute worst possible time imaginable. He stands just as Kelcey falls, freeing Legion’s hands so as to wrap around the body of the NHB Champion and subject him to unspeakable horrors.

Dollar: You probably wanted to stay down Ba’al.

Would’ve, could’ve, should’ve…but didn’t. Ba’al stumbles back right towards a man determined to rip the arms from the arachnid.

Though it’s Legion’s crotch that is targeted….targeted by the low blow delivered from behind by Desmond Drake.

Dollar: Drake…Drake with a crotch shot on Legion! What the hell are you thinking Desmond?

The man who has been victimized REPEATEDLY by Legion, steps back, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction now that he’s gotten a small measure of revenge…..But that smugness evaporates the moment he realizes that Legion is completely no-selling the effects of the low blow. Instead Legion just stands there with an aura of aggravation, turning methodically towards Desmond, who back peddles with raised hands.

Dollar: I think Desmond has crossed Legion for the very last time.

Drake doesn’t even have time to beg for his miserable life before his head is being dragged into the very crotch he just hit with an uppercut. His body is then heaved into a crucifix position…but Legion isn’t about to hit a simple powerbomb…or even a version of the Misery….Instead his eyes are focused on the outside of the ring…where the thin mats will provide little cushion for the body of Desmond.

Dollar: Legion’s gonna kill him….He’s gonna kill Desmond once and for all.

A mortified Desmond’s life flashes before his eyes, with two key moments standing out, the night he suffered a light-tube assisted Misery, and the night where he was gorilla pressed from the ring into the announce table, both sadistic acts committed by the man presently about to toss him to the outside. And that’s just what happens as Legion rushes forward and throws Drake a considerable distance over the ropes with a release crucifix bomb. The crowd lunges to its feet just as Rachel Foxx and Rachel Frost lunge into position just beneath Drake’s airborne body. The lust for destruction is not satiated, thanks to both Frost and Foxx managing to catch Desmond before he could plummet to the mats and suffer irreversible damage.

Dollar: Legion was at long last about to destroy Drake for the final time…but Sinistry caught him!

They not only catch him but manage to help the pint size owner scurry up the ramp towards the backstage area. Foxx and Frost aren’t the only ones following him…Legion would give pursuit….would track them down and decimate them remorselessly but Ba’al has other plans. He rushes in behind Legion, lunges into the air, catches him around the neck and drops back into the Totalis.

The back of Legion’s head takes just as vicious of a landing as Kelcey’s did outside of the ring.

Dollar: And Ba’al capitalizes on the distraction by taking Legion out with the Totalis.

After hitting his finishing move, Ba’al rolls backwards onto his feet, putting hands together in mock prayer…gloating over his actions. That rare flash of ‘pride,’ gives Lucas just the opportunity he was looking for. He swoops in behind Ba’al, hooks both of his arms, heaves him up and drops him down via the Monarchy Rules!

Dollar: Monarchy Rules…Monarchy Rules delivered on Ba’al!

The place is going crazier that a psyche ward that just ran out of Ativan.

After all the spots have been exchanged…after every combatant has been thoroughly brutalized….Lucas Knight puts the punctuation on this insanity…..that exclamation point being the delivery of the Monarchy Rules. The move leaves him standing over a pile of bodies, spinning in circles to examine all of the victims, in particular Ba’al.

But his eyes eventually shift from the co-number one contender to Silas Mason leaning against Mika Kozlov at ringside.

Dollar: I can’t begin to describe what we’ve seen here tonight. What was supposed to be a celebration for Taylor Chase’s title reign turned into out and out CHAOS!

REPLAY

Clips from the anarchy that consumed the ring bombard the screen…Shots corresponding to Chase Global high-jacking Taylor’s title celebration….and the anarchy that followed.

Dollar: First Lucas Knight took over Taylor’s ceremony and declared this Lucas Appreciation Night…then things just spiraled into sheer lunacy.

First Taylor shows up to take offense to this upstaging….then Silas weighs in…which brought out Mika to add her two cents….which led to fists to Knight’s face, the interference of Ba’al….an accidental chair shot to Knight’s skull from Taylor Chase….Legion showing up to destroy Silas and Wallace…then Legion turning his destructive tactics towards Desmond Drake….and finally Ba’al being put down via the Monarchy Rules.

Dollar: The first post Invictus telecast ends with an even greater display of lunacy than we have ever seen before. As everyone jockeys for positioning as a potential challenger to Taylor Chase’s World Heavyweight Championship.

Back live to Lucas Knight continuing to be the lone survivor in the ring, surveying all the damage that has been done and the litany of bodies strewn about him.

FADE TO BLACK