As the bell rings, the two men lock up in the middle of the ring, battling back and forth for the advantage. Havok finally gains the upper hand with a snap suplex. As soon as El Futuro is back on his feet, Nathaniel follows with a neckbreaker and several stomps to the smaller man’s midsection. Havok pulls El Futuro into a standing position and then whips him into the ropes. El Futuro hops up at the last moment, bouncing off of the middle rope and twisting mid-air to take Havok down with a hurricanrana!

As both men get to their feet, Nathaniel nails a resounding roundhouse kick that drives El Futuro back into the corner. Havok races across the ring for a huge forearm smash and El Futuro falls to the canvas. Havok hits a leg drop and then locks on a Boston Crab! El Futuro tries to break free, but can’t get his leg out of Havok’s grasp. The man in blue stretches his arm out, fingers so close to the ropes, but not quite reaching. Summoning up the strength, he manages to pull himself forward just enough to grab the bottom rope, forcing the break.

The referee backs Nathaniel away, giving El Futuro time to get to his feet. As the official steps aside and Havok starts to charge in, El Futuro hits him with a standing moonsault! Before El Futuro can capitalize, Havok delivers a kick to the back of the knee that takes the other man down. Havok grabs both of his arms and pulls him up once again before flipping him to the mat with a double underhook suplex. El Futuro struggles to his feet and Havok catches him with the Reign of Terror before making the pin! ONE! TWO! THREE!!!


Cut to the backstage area, Bryan Williams is standing by in the locker room while Bronx Valescence is getting ready. Bryan is looking visibly upset, one could assume because of the events that happened at Boardwalk Wrestling’s Dead Man’s Hand.

VALESCENCE: “Are you upset because I beat you in Super Smash earlier? Look if this is going to come between our friendship then I will start using Marth instead of Luigi.”

WILLIAMS: “First of all, you cheat in that game anyway. Secondly, it isn’t about Smash, its about my “partner” and all of the grief she has been giving me lately. Did you hear what she went and did now?”

VALESCENCE: “No, but is she hot?”

WILLIAMS: “I don’t think that matters right now, I see nothing but trouble in my future with her. She just doesn’t get that her actions have consequences. She’s still my partner for Fright Night, and now I have to spend this whole time looking over my shoulder.”

Bryan sighs, he looks over at his friend (and new brother) as he continues to get ready for his match.

VALESCENCE: “Look, I’m really good with women. Let me talk to her, but I have to wait until after this battle royal because I’m trying to prove I don’t get special treatment because I am the spawn of Wallace. Do you know if she has Snapchat?”

WILLIAMS: “She doesn’t, but don’t worry about all of that. Focus on your match tonight, big opportunity here for you. Where’s pops? I got a favor to ask of him tonight.”

Bronx rolled his eyes as he had abandoned getting dressed and was checking his phone as he sat in his locker.

VALESCENCE: “Who doesn’t have Snapchat? Pops is a busy man. Busier than when the pope came to America. He is supposed to stop by before the match.”

WILLIAMS: “Well, I have a favor to ask of him. I have some pent up aggression, if you haven’t noticed…”

Bronx looked up from his phone.

VALESCENCE: “I have noticed…The way you were punching the controller when you were losing kind of scared me I’m not going to lie…I feel sorry for Drew.”

WILLIAMS: “Well, Drew has had this a long time coming. He wants to talk about the mask coming off, I’ll give him exactly that tonight.”

VALESCENCE: “Like a lucha mask?”

WILLIAMS: “No, I think its like a metaphor for some douchey thing in his mind. Either way, I’m beating the shit out of him tonight.”

Walking into the room with a smile on his face, Wallace spreads his arms while stopping just a few feet in front of the door.

WALLACE: ”My two boys, how are you tonight, enjoying the show?”

WILLIAMS: “Sort of.”

VALESCENCE: “Besides getting tired of beating BW in Super Smash Brothers? Yeah, it’s been a pretty good show, about to be much better though when I propose to Nova in the middle of the ring during the Battle Royal.”

Bryan steps in between Bronx and Perry, getting up close to the owner of 4CW.

WILLIAMS: “Listen, Dad, I need a favor from you tonight. Now I know, you just adopted me and here I am already calling in favors. I promise you it won’t be much of a headache, I just need to take care of Drew Stevenson tonight. He’s been running his mouth, I want my match changed to a No Disqualification match to shut him up.”

WALLACE: ”Running his mouth, how so? He’s been known to get under people’s skin leading into a match.”

Bryan smirks, laughing a bit under his breath.

WILLIAMS: “Yeah, you’re not wrong about that. This has been coming for a long time, long before 4CW.”

Rubbing his goatee, Wallace thinks to himself for a moment. After a short pause, a smile comes to his face.

WALLACE: ”No disqualifications you say? I know you two have the tag title match coming up at Fright Night in three weeks so this could build onto the tension between you both. Consider it an early birthday present, or me making up for not being there over the years.”

WILLIAMS: “Perfect! That works for me!”

After nodding to Bryan, Wallace quickly cuts his eyes to Bronx as a puzzling look comes over his face.

WALLACE: ”Hold on a damn minute, did you just say you were going to propose to Nova in the ring tonight?”

Bronx shrugged.

VALESCENCE: ”I mean it’s as good of time as any right? If she says yes, we can work together and then she can’t be mad at me and call it off when I throw her over the top rope. If she says no, I’ll just throw her over anyway.”

WALLACE: ”You do make a good point. Just try to keep your head in the match and not get distracted. Well, I’ll get out of your hair for now, and that’s some fine Wallace hair you two boys have if I do say so myself. Try not to get into any trouble tonight.”

Turning towards the door, Wallace takes a couple of steps before stopping in his tracks and quickly looking back at Bronx and Bryan.

WALLACE: ”Hey, you two haven’t seen Carmella around by chance, have you? You know, Jett’s mom…”


Bathory and Martin start off with a hard lockup. Martin ducks under Bathory’s right side and applied a hammerlock, which is quickly reversed into an headlock takeover. Martin locks in a head scissors after a few moments struggle, but Bathory gets out as the two are standing across from one another. Bathory lands a hard chop to Martin’s chest and hits the ropes for a clothesline, knocking her down to the mat, followed by a fist drop. Bathory hits a hard stomp to the chest and goes for another fist drop, but Martin moves out of the way and starts to land hard right hands to Bathory as he holds his fist from the impact of hitting the mat.

Niobe grabs him by the hair and he stands up, she blocks a throat jab attempt and nails a stunner on Ivan, only getting a count of two. Ivan makes it to his feet, but is met with a discus back elbow from Niobe, causing him to reel backward into the ropes. She whips him to the opposite side of the ring, jumping in the air, and hitting a flying clothesline that takes him down to the mat hard. As he rolls onto his stomach, he jumps him and locks in a crossface, but it’s not enough to take him out, as he grabs the ropes after minimal struggle.

Martin is placed back by the referee amidst the rope break, allowing Bathory to get to his feet. With her distance from him apparent, Bathory runs toward Martin, but gets caught in a firemen’s carry takeover. Unexpectedly, Martin collects herself quickly, and as Ivan makes it to his feet, he is hit with the True Nightmare, landing him on his back diagonally placed near the ropes. Martin goes over to the corner and hits her patented split legged moonsault, causing further damage, before signaling that she is going to the top.

As Martin ascends the top, Ivan shows no signs of moving, still dazing from the enziguiri and moonsault combination. Martin makes her way to the top rope, landing the Phantasm Horror on Bathory and covering for the pin… One! … Two! … Three!


With “Survival” playing in the background, the scene opens up to a shot over the entire arena. With the house packed, electricity fills the air as we count down the moments before kicking Adrenaline off. Down at ringside, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa sit at the announcers booth, ready to lead us through the exciting night planned just three weeks before Fright Night.

JOHNSON: ”Hello ladies and gentlemen and welcome to another edition of 4CW Adrenaline! I’m your host, Steve Johnson!”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! I hope everyone is ready for an action packed night that will have your adrenaline pumping from start to finish.”

JOHNSON: ”We’re only three weeks away from Fright Night and boy do we have a lot of things cooking to make this event one of the biggest and best 4CW has hosted.”

VASSA: ”That Fright Night Warzone of Horrors! It’s going to insane!”

JOHNSON: ”Yes it is, yes it sure is! Two weeks ago Mr. Wallace dropped a huge announcement on us that changed the whole landscape for Fright Night and the Warzone. Although is will have less people this year, it’s going to be bigger and badder than before.”

VASSA: ”As you all know, the 4CW Championship will be on the line at Fright Night in the Warzone. Felicity Banks will defend the strap against what was believed to be seven people but was announced to only be five. So we’re dropping the match down from eight to six people with the biggest prize in 4CW on the line.”

JOHNSON: ”So during Adrenaline two weeks ago, Mr. Wallace made his presence felt with some announcements to shock the wrestling world. First he named three of the five people who would be stepping into this match to challenge Felicity for the 4CW Championship.”

VASSA: ”Three names and damn were they some good ones! Starting things off with a shocker, Wallace announced that both Jair Hopkins and Lo’Renzo Porter would be competing in this match, Flipp-Hop!”

JOHNSON: ”With these two being a tag team, I’m very interested to see how things will play out with them in this match together, a singles bout.”

VASSA: ”It is rather odd if you ask me but a curveball nonetheless. Tell them who else, Steve! Tell them!”

JOHNSON: ”You seem eager, Vinny, you really do. We’re going to try to cut things a little shorter tonight because we have a packed card so let’s get down to the third wrestler announced in this match. Dakota. Smith.”

VASSA: ”The 4CW Extreme Champion is making a run for the 4CW Championship folks!”

JOHNSON: ”This is no joke, if you don’t believe us, look at the footage from two weeks ago and see for yourself. Dakota Smith will be entering this match and the surprises don’t stop there. Perry Wallace has even went as far as changing the entire format of the match, putting both championships on the line, one in the cage and one hanging above it.”

VASSA: ”It’s the Warzone of freaking Horrors!”

JOHNSON: ”That’s right. So this year there will only be one ring within the cage but the ropes will be barbed wire. There will be weapons galore inside of the cage. The Extreme Championship can change hands multiple times until someone wins the 4CW Championship.”

VASSA: ”And how do you win the 4CW Championship?”

JOHNSON: ”It’s easy! You exit the cage, climb on top of it and once there, you’ll see a ladder bolted to the top, holding it into place. Above the cage, the 4CW Championship will hang from a harness. In order to become the 4CW Champion, or retain if you’re Felicity, you have to climb the ladder and pull down the belt.”

VASSA: ”Meanwhile, inside of the ring, outside, where ever, the Extreme Championship will be up for grabs until the final bell. We could literally see five new Extreme Champions before this thing is all said and done.”

JOHNSON: ”From what I’ve been told, the cage is rather short as well. It isn’t going to be a huge, tall cage but something lower in height. I wouldn’t be surprised if Dakota tried to hang someone from the ceiling of this thing.”

VASSA: ”Don’t give him any ideas! So with those three names announced and Felicity being the champ, that only leaves us four. What about the other two? Tell them!”

JOHNSON: ”Later on tonight there will be an eight person over the top rope rumble to determine one of those two positions in this match. Mr. Wallace has made a wildcard for this hectic nightmare and giving some of the newer signed talents a chance in a lifetime.”

VASSA: ”We have some really good talent in this rumble taking place later tonight and any one person could be a huge factor in the Warzone of Horrors.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s all we have folks. Yes, we understand that’s only five people and the match is booked for six. No other announcements have been made but Mr. Wallace is supposed to be announcing the sixth name to complete this epic match up.”

VASSA: ”I’m interested to see who it is. I’d be stoked if a former 4CW talent returned for this big night. We’ve had a lot of great talent come through the doors and quite a few have left a lasting impression on 4CW. Whatever Wallace has up his sleeve, I just hope he doesn’t disappoint.”

JOHNSON: ”So that’s everything we have leading into Fright Night with the Warzone of Horrors as it is called now. In our main event we’ll see Flipp-Hop in the ring taking on the oddly paired team of Felicity Banks and Dakota Smith. The four names that have officially been announced will get a little tune up match leading into Fright Night and anything is bound to happen.”

VASSA: ”Felicity and Dakota teaming up, that’s going to be weird and also crazy at the same time. Both the champions with something on the line going into Fright Night will pair up to take on the team that upset the 4CW Tag Team Champions just two weeks ago.”

JOHNSON: ”Before we go backstage for a few moments I’d like to mention that our opening match will be a contender match for the 4CW Pride Championship. John Austin and Jason Cashe will square off in the ring with special ref, the 4CW Pride Champion himself, Seamus O’Connor.”

VASSA: ”We always set the standard with opening matches and this one is no different. Cashe and Austin have been at each others throats for weeks now and it finally comes down to a contender match to determine who will face Seamus for the Pride Championship at Fright Night.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s sure to be a good one and I can’t think of any other way I’d like for us to kick things off here tonight. Well sit tight folks, we’re going to go backstage momentarily as we prep for our opening match.”

Backstage we go after seeing the Boss, Perry Wallace backstage onto a roster member who has not exactly been one of his favorite’s to date in Jett Wilder. Sitting in the back eating a bag of gummy worms despite his match being only a short time away. Sitting next to his bag, it’s unclear if he’s even ever talked to anyone that hasn’t approached him. The fans are greeted with the site of Carmella however walking into the scene, wearing a red dress that as usual makes the guys in the venue whistle.

CARMELLA: ”Put the gummy worms down, you have a match coming up don’t need that. And why are you sitting back here alone, a lot of wrestlers and staff around here. Go ahead and go talk to some of them, some very cute women as well.”

Carmella urges her son to get out there a bit, despite his brash persona on Twitter and on video, he’s not quite the locker room leader he claims to be.

JETT: ”But last week Gold Standard were picking on me! And the people don’t seem to like me, even Perry.”

Jett while with his mom seems to show off his more vulnerable side until he seems to remember that the camera’s on and he puffs out his chest.

JETT: ”Whatever though, those jerks will get theres. Kat isn’t even THAT attractive anyways. I just don’t want to talk to anyone because I am facing half the roster tonight for a shot at Felicity. I am the favorite in this match no doubt, so I can’t let my guard down.”

Carmella looks back at the camera clearly hinting at the fact that she realizes why the sudden change in attitude.

CARMELLA: ”All right well get ready for your match, I’ll be waiting out there for you ok? Mommy has some work to do. Afterwards though, go around and meet some people. Who knows maybe you’ll make some friends.”

Carmella smiles and walks out of the room as Jett waits until the door is closed behind her to reach over and grab a big handful of gummy worms to stuff his mouth. Clearly ready for his hugely important match just minutes away.



POWERS: “The following Contest is to determine the Number One Contender to the 4CW Pride Championship! Introducing first, he is a Member of “Gold Standard”…”The MAGIC Man!” JOOOHHNN AUUUUSTINN!!”

The opening to Satan’s Sister begins to play through out the sound system of the building. Smoke fills up the entrance way as John slowly makes his way through to a chorus of “boos” and “traitor”. He turns his back to the camera as we clearly see the words “Magic Man” on the back of his ring jacket.

JOHNSON: “John Austin is about to be tested, maybe his biggest to date here in 4CW. A former three time 4CW Champion is about to come out and I believe he might be a little ticked off at the “Magic Man”.

VASSA: “Oh ya think? Our referee, Seamus O’Connor doesn’t care for either man. The problem that Cashe and Seamus aren’t seeing is that Gold Standard could show up. They let Cashe off easy. He got put down for rejecting their offer and he should back off before they surround him again. He doesn’t have friends, Shadow seems to have vanished with a small injury and I don’t know how quick Cashe and Seamus will work together…”

He turns around with a cocky smile upon his face and slowly makes his way to the ring. John casually walks up the ring steps and into the ring without a care in the world. He climbs upon one of the turnbuckle and raises his fist in the air with pride.

VASSA: “You have to admit, John Austin looks ready. He’s looking prepared for the test, prepared to become the new Number One Contender. How crappy is it if Cashe loses a second match in two shows?”

JOHNSON: “Cashe admitted that was on his head but he isn’t the only one having that risk. John Austin lost last Adrenaline to Jett Wilder and Cashe wasn’t out there as a distraction like Austin was in Cashe’s match. Our referee, the Pride Champion has a lot to watch out for in this match, I’m excited.”

He hops back down and begins to stare across the ring at Seamus O’Connor dressed in a tightly worn Referee Zebra Shirt..

JOHNSON: “Those two could just explode before Jason Cashe gets down here!! Look at that stare down!!”

The Country beat rolls into the Theater as Jason Cashe comes almost sliding out from the back with a smile on his face and a dip in his step as he hears the place give him both Jeers and Cheers. Depending on the opponent more one than the other but he takes it all in, deeply inhaling the air with his head tilted back and his eyes closed at the edge of where the stage meets the entrance ramp. He has a microphone in hand..

POWERS: “From Houston, Texas! He is the Former three time 4CW Champion….”THE TROUBLED” JAAASSOOON CAAAAASSSHE!!!”

“Another day on the grind for a couple cents.

I kiss goodbye to my relevance.

Work throws stone while I ride the fence,

I’m old and old enough to bring up something that makes sense.

It’s like I’m livin in a war zone.

And they can write it on my tombstone.

Here lies a man who don’t cry,

With ash on the feet in front pillars held high!

I’ve been up

And I’ve been dow–“

CASHE: “Cut the music…Shut it off!”

Seconds pass and the theme music shuts off, the fans cheering for the Two Toothless former Champion as he stands mid ramp with the mic pressed to his thick beard.

CASHE: “I’ve come to a decision Johnny Austin. Thought I’d share before I get into the ring and the talking stops..Heh.”

Grazing his nose with the back of his hand as it holds the mic at a tilt, he brings it back to his mouth as the live audience quiets down.

CASHE: “First off this theme music shit? I’m done with that for now. My mood isn’t always going to be happy to come out with some uppity, meaningful music that represents who I’m suppose to be. So these fans will cheer or boo and THAT will be the music I come out too. They will respond to the mood I’m in, if I’m head hunting, looking to do some bad shit like right here and now then they will either boo me for doing it to someone loved or they will cheer because the person I’m digging into is more disliked than me. Simple as that, no strings attached…With that said? Here’s my mood..”

Dropping the mic, he roars out and takes off towards the ring. Diving under the bottom ropes, John Austin rushes in and begins stomping away and swinging down clubs as Cashe rises from the canvas.

VASSA: “Oh OH OH! It’s ON!!”

Keeping his balance as Cashe drives him back, John Austin uses his size to whip Cashe to the side, flinging him off from around his waist.


Cashe springs from the mat again and flies at Austin with a flying forearm. Austin stumbles back and Cashe doesn’t stop. To the body, Cashe works a quick 1-2 combo before throwing his whole body behind a Thrusting Head butt that stuns John Austin as he falls back into the ropes. Wildman like, Cashe turns back to the center of the ring roars out to the crowd and puts distance between him and John Austin.

Cutting back towards his opponent, Cashe races across the ring at Austin. He clotheslines the six foot four “Magic Man” over the top ropes and Cashe goes with him as both dump to the outside.

JOHNSON: “To the outside they go! Cashe is going crazy!”

Both men hit the ringside floor and are fast to get back to their feet. Cashe leaps in at Austin leaning against the ring and Austin catches Cashe and runs him into the guard railing. Cashe cries out in pain as his side bends and aches against the unforgiving barrier. He drops to his knees as John Austin lets him go, pushing up Cashe gets up onto his hands and feet as John Austin scurries back and slaps his knee after pulling down his left knee pad. The crowd groans with boos as Seamus shouts from inside the ring.

VASSA: “Cashe might lose some more teeth if this connects in the wrong place…”

JOHNSON: “This is going to hurt just to watch it!”

Rushing in, John Austin goes for a “Million Dollar” Knee Lift but Cashe almost jumps back over the guardrail to dodge the knee by inches. He shoves Austin from behind and the “Magic Man” lunges forward and grabs the ring to stop his fall. Turning around swiftly, he has left himself open as Cashe comes in with a Sharpe Elbow to the jawline of John Austin. The crowd goes bananas with celebration as the elbow connects and John Austin folds like he went noodle leg.

JOHNSON: “MARK OF JASON!! On point! On target and John Austin didn’t see it coming!”

Seamus shouting out the count reaches six on his count. Cashe and him lock eyes and it halts the count a few seconds as Cashe smiles. He turns the corner near the Announcing Table and heads over to the Time Keeper’s section where a member of the ringside crew sits.

JOHNSON: “What is Cashe doing?”

VASSA: “Better question is if he sees that John Austin is up and coming in fast from behind?”

With arm distance from getting to Cashe, John Austin’s eyes widen and he tries to put his body in reverse as Cashe comes up and around with a Steel Chair held high. It comes at Austin downward and the sound of metal wrapping against the skull of John Austin echos in the arena.

JOHNSON: “Where, How? Why? What the Hell!?”

VASSA: “Ahahaa! Cashe hitting homeruns tonight!”

With no choice, Seamus calls for the bell.


Cashe just standing there, staring down at a fallen and head stricken John Austin as he hugs his own dome.

POWERS: “Winner by Disqualification and…NEW Number One Contender to the Pride Championship….The “MAGIC MAN” Jooohn Austin!!!”

Cashe cuts back a stare at Seamus as the announcement is made. Turning back to Austin, Cashe steps over him to get better positioning as he lifts the chair high up.


JOHNSON: “Freedom and Stevenson coming down to protect their investment in John Austin. This is about to get ugly!! Seamus sees them…CASHE!!”

Hearing Johnson, Cashe snaps his stare to the ring entrance and sees the Calvary coming. He tosses the chair to the side and lifts the ring apron, bending over, he pulls out a long…Tube sock?

VASSA: “What the hell? What’s in there?”

JOHNSON: “I don’t know but that sock is loaded heavy! It’s Cashe’s “Lock In A Sock” I’d presume but when did he store it down here? Why not just use the chair?”

VASSA: “Come on! This is Cashe we’re talking about, knowing him he’d have a bag of shit down here to fling or rub in the eyes of his rivals. Don’t give him the idea though…”

Sliding in the ring, Cashe readies himself as the Tag Team Champions round the ring at each side. Seamus turns to where Freedom is and Cashe to Stevenson. Before they can get around the ring to their partner, Jason Cashe drops and rolls out near a slowly rising John Austin. Whipping the heavy bottomed sock, Cashe looks to connect to the back of Austin’s head but aims a little low and the sock crashes down into the middle of his back. The sock breaks open and Quarters fly out everywhere! Fans in the front few rows disappear to pick up the loose change as John Austin goes stiff in an arched motion before dropping to his knees.

JOHNSON: “It’s a Drug Deal, Cashe pays in Quarters for something that surely has gotten him his High, filled his Addiction here tonight!”

VASSA: “He’s in trouble now!!”

Freedom and Stevenson rush in at him but Cashe dives under the bottom ropes and enters the ring. Fans cheering as the Tag Champions help their partner up. The odds are now against Cashe or Seamus right now, Cashe seen to that as Gold Standard takes notice and slowly heads back around the ring together. The fans cheering as Gold Standard leaves, backing up the ramp. Cashe throwing out hollers and curses, waving for them to come in the ring.

VASSA: “That was a dirty tactic by Jason Cashe, he could have fought like a man! Competed as he says gives him a High but yet he goes to these means to get an advantage? Cheap..”

JOHNSON: “Oh please! Gold Standard is filled with Cheap tactics in Expensive suits. Cashe just caught one of them alone and acted out in the most extre– Uh oh!!”

A ringside crew member nears the ring, is lifting the Pride Championship through the ropes to Seamus O’Connor. Cashe has taken his attention off Gold Standard and is now staring at Seamus as the Pride Champion turns and sees the pair of eyes burning through him.

JOHNSON: “No love loss here Vas. Cashe feels Seamus got lucky with the distraction last Adrenaline. Seamus is a proud new Champion that feels he held his own with the former 4CW Champion.”

The two argue, trade jabs but nothing getting picked up on audio. Seamus only tries to cross the ring towards the ramp when Cashe steps side ways and extends an open invitation to leave. As Seamus walks by, Cashe hurries up and snatches the Pride Title off Seamus’ shoulder. It wasn’t to Seamus’ liking as Cashe backs away and holds up a hand to give him a moment. Looking down at the Pride Title, Cashe reaches and hands it over back to it’s Champion. Shrugging his shoulders, Cashe’s comments are loud enough to be heard.

CASHE: ”Maybe next time..”

Leaving the ring, Seamus O’Connor shakes his head as he gives Cashe one final look before heading to the back. Cashe drops and rolls from the ring before one hand spring jumping the railing and disappearing in the crowd.

JOHNSON: “So what happens now? Do we see Austin Versus Seamus at Fright Night?”

VASSA: “It would seem to me that things with Cashe and Austin aren’t over yet. I’m not sure, Perry Wallace has a few things to clear up tonight. The night has only started and we have more questions heading into Fright Night!”

The sounds of Banter are being heard from Halls away as We pull up to see the Trio of Mannie, J-Hop, and Flipp sharing Joints and Jokes… Mannie who’s recently been involved in a Heated/Personal rivalry with The Red Pioneer looks to be actling like his Oldself as He is wearing a Smile along with his Custom-Made Airbrushed Jumpers/Shoes, Flipp is wearing a Mod Sun Ty-Die hoodie with some white jeans and Forrest Green and blue New Balance. Looking down at his phone scrolling though his timeline he couldn’t help but laugh at a picture he just saw. and J-Hop is wearing his Adidas black and white Sweatsuit and a black-colored variation of those Winged-Sneakers…

FLIPP: ”You lookin real Busted in yo Profile-Pic brah. Like you jus got curved or suntin…Witcho Ugly Ass!”

MANNIE: ”BOY…I’m about to Fire that Ass with BARS like Shit! Yo Mama is so Dumb that She stole a Quarter-Cart from Aldos to play Pacman in the Parking Lot.”

HOPKINS: ”Damn, that’s real Dum-Dum. Y’all Mamas are so dumb that they took the Ride-On Bus to get back to the Bus-Stop!”

The Trio can’t Help but Hold their Stomachs after so many Punchlines, although it seems that the Fun is about to End because of an Unwanted Guest…

The sounds of Spurs/Heels clacking within the Hallways are becoming Louder/Louder as 4CW’s ‘CEO’ Perry Wallace inserts himself into the Fray with a Joke of his Own…

WALLACE: ”I have a joke for you guys. Who do you call when you need bail? Sure as shit not me if your name is Mannie! You’re in here making jokes but I’m about to turn you into a punchline at Fright Night Mannie.”

The Trio expressions have now gone from Happy to Serious as Wallace begins to Smirk, yet it’s not before long that Flipp-Hop/Mannie decide to have the last Word with Wallace…

MANNIE: ”Okay Perry…You got Me!”

WALLACE: ”You are damn right I got You where I want Mannie and it’s going to be one step closer of You being out of my Company.”

FLIPP: ”We just got One question for You?”

WALLACE: ”What is it Bunny-Boyz?”









FLIPP: ”Are”


The 4CW ‘CEO’ promptly makes his Exit as Mannie, J-Hop, Flipp fall over from Laugher along with Others…


JOHNSON: ”We’re off to an exciting night ladies and gentlemen and things are bout to get even more exciting as we have an eight person over the top rope rumble next in line for the show!”

VASSA: ”This rumble is a lot bigger than what it appears as on paper. Although it’s eight people thrown into the ring, the one who walks away the winner tonight will land a spot in the Warzone of Horrors at Fright Night in three weeks! “

JOHNSON: ”We briefly talked about this match earlier tonight and how it was put together. With a stacked card as it is, there just simply wasn’t enough bodies to put a longer tenured person in the lineup. Being the man that Mr. Wallace is, he decided to give some new signees a chance to earn a spot in what could very well be considered a wildcard.”

VASSA: ”It is a wildcard if you want my opinion. It’s also a chance of a lifetime for some of the newer talent that has recently walked through the door. A win here tonight will put them in the main event at Fright Night, giving them the opportunity to catapult to superstardom.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s actually a very good way to put it, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”Thank you, Steve. All I need is the opportunity myself and I can really shine here on the headset.”

JOHNSON: ”So let’s go down the list of names participating in this over the top rope elimination rumble. We have three guys who have actually been with 4CW for a good while now. You don’t get to see these guys that often but they’re here, typically acting as a punching bag for the top level talent we showcase. I’m very thrilled to actually see Dick live in action tonight.”

VASSA: ”I bet you are, heh…”

JOHNSON: ”What? Dick is a very hard worker and really gives his opponents a pounding from corner to corner.”

VASSA: ”OMG!!! Stop!”

JOHNSON: ”What?! I’m being dead serious! We don’t really see him in action that often but I wouldn’t look past him. Looking over his resume, I really believe that he can rise to the occasion.”

VASSA: ”That’s it, I’m fucking done! Move on, please!”

JOHNSON: ”Okay? Then we have Joseph Sullivan and Lincoln Cutler, two mainstays who have been with 4CW since the beginning.”

VASSA: ”So basically what I’m hearing is that we have three individuals acting as filler tonight?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know what that even means…”

VASSA: ”Whatever, you’re holding up the show. The fans are waiting for this match to begin so let me pick up the pace and do your fucking job for you! Now that those three losers are out of the way, we have Nova Wonder, Johnny Rebel, Bronx Valescence, Nick Watson and Jett Wilder. There! Was that so hard?”

JOHNSON: ”Well… I was wanting to talk about each wrestler in the match but you just cut straight to the point.”

VASSA: ”I’m sorry Steve, but while you were getting a hard on for Dick, someone needed to take control and keep the show on schedule. You’re welcome.”

JOHNSON: ”Thank you?”

VASSA: ”Was that so hard? Of course it wasn’t! You should appreciate me more often!”

JOHNSON: ”You’re right, I will tr–“

VASSA: ”Don’t care! Look in the ring, we already have the three punching bags in the ring and you’re holding up the show. COME ON STEVE!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Whatever, let’s get the fourth one out here. We’re going to start the match with four people in the ring folks. Once the bell sounds, another wrestler will enter the ring every three minutes until the last person has entered. The only way to be eliminated is to be thrown over the top rope.”

VASSA: ”That would be why it’s called an over the top rope elimination rumble. DUH!!!”

JOHNSON: ”I’ve had about enough of you!”

VASSA: ”Take it away Mike Powers!”

“What You Know About That” by TI hits over the house system as smoke fills the top of the entrance ramp. Bronx with his head down walks out to the top of the ramp to stand in the smoke for a moment before he pulls his hands up slowly pointing two finger guns at the ring. He pulls the trigger before he twirls the said “guns” and places them back into his “holsters” on either side before he starts his business like walk to the ring.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Eastport, Maine, weighing in at two hundred five pounds and standing six feet tall, Bronx Valescence!”

He slides with one knee up on the apron, wipes his feet and then flips over the top rope into the ring. Bronx then walks over to the middle rope and stands on it, surveying the crowd through his sunglasses before he hops off and walks over to his corner where he kicks up, using the top turnbuckle like a hammock as he waits for the bell.

VASSA: ”Starting things off we have Perry’s long lost son, Bronx Vale… Valescen… Bronx Wallace!”

JOHNSON: ”It’s Valescence, Vinny. Sound it out.”

VASSA: ”You sound it out! It’s fucking Bronxy V!”

Standing in the center of the ring, the ref checks with three of the four corners, getting the nods from Dick, Sullivan and Cutler. He then turns to the final corner where Bronx lunges across the ropes, looking over the crowd, not really paying attention. Yelling at him, the ref then grabs his attention. Climbing down from the ropes, Bronx then stands in his corner and removes his sunglasses. Placing them between the elastic band of his tights and skin, he then brushes his hair out of his face before holding up the devil horns and sticking his tongue out. Looking at him odd, the ref then shakes his head, trying not to laugh before slowly lifting his hand into the air. Holding it up for a moment and leaving the crowd on the edge of their seats, he then swings it downward, signaling for the bell.


VASSA: ”Let the countdown begin!”

As if the sound of the bell flipped a switch in Bronx, his eyes widened before looking to each of the other three corners. He then pushed himself away from the corner and walked to the center of the ring with confidence. Pointing towards Sullivan, he then waves for him to leave his corner, singling him out from the other two. Sullivan then charges towards him wildly and throws a right haymaker for Bronx’s head as he closes in. Side stepping out of the way, Bronx kicks him in the back of the knee, forcing his leg to buckle and bring him down to one knee. Stepping back in front of Sullivan, Bronx then hits him with a spinning heel kick to the side of the head, knocking him flat on his back.

Cutler and Dick then move in on him unnoticed from behind. Grabbing a handful of hair, Dick turns Bronx around only to taste fist as Bronx punches him directly in the mouth. Cutler then grabs ahold of Bronx but before he can get a grip on him, Bronx kicks him in the stomach and then steps beside him. Lifting him up from the mat, Bronx drops him back down with a side suplex. Being the only one still on his feet, Dick hits Bronx in the back of the head with a right forearm, briefly stunning him. Grabbing Bronx by the hair, Dick pulls him up to his feet and then whips him to the ropes across the ring.

As soon as his back touches the ropes, Bronx wraps his arms over the top rope, catching himself from rebounding back to the center of the ring. Dick then takes off towards him and charges with a clothesline. With Dick closing in, Bronx ducks down and Dick gets close enough, he stands straight up, lifting Dick up from the mat and flipping him over the top rope. Grabbing onto the rope with both hands, Dick manages to land on the apron with both feet touching down. Reaching over the top rope, Dick locks his arms around Bronx’s, standing him straight up and pulling him against the ropes. Slowly getting back to his feet, Sullivan looks to the ropes and see’s an opportunity with Bronx trapped on the edge of the ring. Taking off towards him, Sullivan closes in with a running power punch but connects with Dick instead, knocking him off the apron as Bronx manages to escape.


JOHNSON: ”There’s our first elimination of the night!”

VASSA: ”I know that punch was intended for Bronx but at least Sullivan managed to eliminate Dick with the failed attempt.”

Bronx then grabs ahold of Sullivan and flips him over to the canvas with a snap suplex.

JOHNSON: ”With one person eliminated in just under two minutes, we now have another about to make their way down to the ring.”

A recorded voice comes over the loud speaker and “Smoke on the Water” by Deep Purple blasts over the PA. Johnny Rebel comes out in a gold robe shimmering in the lights. “SIMPLY PUT” is written in silver on the back. His blonde goatee is neatly trimmed and blonde hair is freshly cut; his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses.


POWERS: ”Introducing to the ring from Chicago, Illinois, weighing in at two hundred thirty one pounds and standing six feet, three inches tall, “Simply Put”… Johnny Rebel!”

The crowd has come unglued in their hatred for Rebel. He gets to the ring removes his gold robe, revealing his gold tights and tassled white boots. He then removes his sunglasses before sliding into the ring underneath the bottom rope.

VASSA: ”Johnny Rebel is in the house!”

JOHNSON: ”Things didn’t quite go his way two weeks ago thanks to the other person in the ring right now. Maybe we’ll see some revenge tonight in store for Bronx?”

VASSA: ”He better act quick because Bronx is already closing in!”

Before Rebel can push himself up, Bronx moves in for the attack with multiple stomps to the back, keeping him down on the canvas. From behind, Cutler hits Bronx across the top of the back with a double axe handle, knocking him down on top of Rebel. With both men down at his feet, Cutler then begins to kick both of their heads before jumping into the air and coming down with splash on top of Bronx, sandwiching him with Rebel on the bottom. Back on his feet, Cutler then grabs Bronx by the head and slowly pulls him up to his feet. Locking onto his wrist, Cutler then goes to whip Bronx to the ropes on the opposite side of the ring but gets thrown there instead as Bronx reverses the throw. With Cutler charging towards the ropes, Bronx quickly takes off behind him, trailing a few feet. Once Cutler hits the ropes, Bronx then leaps into the air and hits him in the chops with a dropkick that sends him flipping over the top rope and down to the hard floor below.


VASSA: ”And another one bites the dust!”

JOHNSON: ”Two down and five to go!”

VASSA: ”Things are off to a quick start with this rumble.”

JOHNSON: ”With eight people being involved, I would say it’s a good strategy to eliminate the majority as quickly as possible before the fatigue sets in.”

VASSA: ”That’s a good strategy I guess. If it were me, I would just sit back in the corner and let everyone else do the work until only one other person was left in the ring. But that’s just me…”

Back on his feet, Bronx turns back to the ring only to get caught with a stiff jab to the mouth by the hand of Rebel. Firing back with a punch of his own, Bronx knocks Rebel back a couple of steps into Sullivan who then wraps him up and slams him to the canvas with a German suplex. Rolling over to his stomach, Sullivan pushes himself up but with his back turned to Bronx, he opens himself up for a running forearm smash to the back of the head, knocking him forward, tripping over Rebel and crashing to the canvas.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Seattle, Washington, weighing in at one hundred twelve pounds and standing five feet, two inches tall. She is “The Deathbringer”, Nova Wonder!”

The lights in the arena go to complete darkness. The almost eery, lullaby-sounding entrance chimes to “Sex Metal Barbie” began to play over the PA system before the beat began to pick up and the heavy guitar riff accompanied the big screen video of Nova Wonder. A slight, sparkly slither could be seen on the stage, getting a clamor from the crowd. A pulsing silver light ominously begins to flicker in the arena, its pattern mimicking a heartbeat.

“Excuse me can you tell me what you’ve heard about my life?

Maybe a dirty little fairy tale, a girl of the night

I heard that I grew up filthy, a trailer park queen

Drop out pregnant statistical teen

I know you’ve heard about the bloody knife

About my daddy’s perfect virgin and my mother’s wife

You know I heard I don’t belong in this game

Still you hold your hands in the air screaming my name

Let’s go!”

At the sound of Maria Brink’s scream, a single, glowing, red eye emerges in the darkness. There’s just enough light to see Nova Wonder crouched on one knee, lifting her head and opening her eyes. One red glow in the dark contact is placed in, the other half of her face covered in a dystopian robot cybernetic half-mask. The spotlights all form into one at the turn of a dime, on the crouching Nova.

“Baby go ahead

I’ll be your hatred and your pain

This is killing us all

I don’t care if I fall

We’re the dying, we are the damned!”

Slowly – mechanically – she rose from one knee to two. Her head glancing at the ground, her feet shoulder width apart. Her long, blonde hair hides her already half-hidden face.

“Baby go ahead

I’ll be the villain you can blame

I’ll be the belle of the brawl

Be the lust in us all

I’m the diva of the damned

I heard I don’t belong in this scene

Sex Metal Barbie, Homicidal Queen”

The guitar riff gets a little heavier, as she raised her head. The look on her face is one that is completely stoic, heavy black makeup on the contact-wearing eye. One hand raises, at a snail’s pace. Her fist unfurls, opening to reveal the tattoo on the inside of her right palm: the Illuminati pyramid, including its all-seeing eye. That hand furls back into a fist, then fingers pointed into a gun, pointed at the center of the ring.

“Excuse me can you tell me the worst thing you’ve heard about me?

Maybe that I’m a little harlot homicidal queen

You know I heard that I don’t belong in this scene

Sex, Metal, Barbie, Whore, attention fiend

You know I heard that I’m a hater’s dream

No class, White Trash – I’m so obscene

You know I heard that I should be ashamed

Still they hold their fists in the air screaming my name

Come on!”

Her pace down the ramp is slow and calculated, eyes focused on the ring in front of her. Everything seems methodical, from the slow pace of her breathing to each dragging step. At the foot of the ramp, there’s finally a break. A wicked grin curling her lips up to the sky.

“Baby go ahead

I’ll be the villain you can blame

I’ll be the belle of the brawl

Be the lust in us all

I’m the diva of the damned”

“The Deathbringer,” as she calls herself, gave a stern glance to the camera – allowing it to take in every intricate detail of her half-mask and the piercing glow of her single, red eye. A machine built for destruction is the best way to describe the robotic appearance of Nova Wonder. She then enters the ring, catching the attention of the only man on his feet and that being Bronx. The two locks eyes for a moment as the surrounding world seems to freeze for both of them. After a few moments pass, Rebel snaps Bronx back to reality as he spins him around and kicks him in the stomach with a fierce foot.

VASSA: ”The lovely Nova Wonder has made her presence felt in the ring, catching the eye of Bronx and leaving him open to that boot to the gut from Rebel.”

JOHNSON: ”Nova made an impressive debut in 4CW a few weeks back. At the last Adrenaline she came up short in a triple threat that Nick Watson won but she can redeem herself here tonight with a win in this huge match.”

VASSA: ”I don’t think she likes what she sees!”

Her face turns angry at the sight of Rebel attacking Bronx. Nova then takes off towards him and leaps into the air, connecting with a flying elbow to the side of Rebel’s head, sending him rolling across the mat. She then checks on Bronx for a moment, helping him stand back up. After the two share a few moments of eye contact, they then turn their heads separate ways and lock their sights on the other two in the ring. Nova quickly unloads with an attack on Sullivan, keeping him down to the canvas with a fury of kicks and punches.

Looking on as Rebel slowly gets back to his feet, Bronx then makes his move and closes in on him. Grabbing him by the head with one hand, Bronx draws back with the other and connects with a crushing punch to the jaw, sending Rebel’s head rocketing down to the canvas and colliding with impact. Lifting Rebel back to his feet, Bronx holds him in place before jumping up, wrapping his legs around Rebel’s head and flipping him across the ring with a standing hurricanrana. With Rebel pinned beneath him, Bronx then unloads with vicious lefts and rights, beating Rebel senseless as he is unable to defend himself.

Across the ring, Nova has Sullivan in the corner, slowly wearing him down with kicks to the mid-section. She then grabs onto his wrist and drags him away from the corner before going to throw him to the ropes. Reversing the throw, Sullivan whips Nova to the ropes instead but as she approaches, she leaps into the air and plants her feet onto the middle rope. With Sullivan moving in on her, she springboards off the middle rope and does a backflip. After making a full revolution, she wraps her arm around Sullivan’s head and then drives it into the canvas with a tornado DDT that sets the crowd on fire!

VASSA: ”You hear that? This place is going insane!”

JOHNSON: ”Nova Wonder may be smaller than everyone else in the ring but she’s not letting that stop her. Small or not, she just put Sullivan’s head into the mat and made it look easy!”

VASSA: ”She’s quick and fun to watch when she goes aerial. Sullivan didn’t even see that coming! That’s the beauty of it.”

With Rebel back on his feet, Bronx locks onto the back of his head and walks him to the edge of the ring. Getting closer to the ropes, he then turns his pace into a slow jog before slinging Rebel to the ropes. Hitting the ropes stomach first with speed, Rebel flips over the top and crashes down to the floor.


“Blessings” by Big Sean hits the speakers as the fans react with mixed cheers and boos.

JOHNSON: ”It looks like Johnny Rebel’s night has come to an end.”

VASSA: ”And it looks like Jett Wilder’s night is about to get started!”

Jett Wilder comes out from the back and walks onto the stage.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at one hundred forty five pounds and standing five feet, eight inches tall, Jett Wilder!”

Slowly making his way down to the ring, Jett keeps his eyes locked on the action taking place inside. Once at ringside, he walks around for a moment before seeing an opportunity to roll in unnoticed.

JOHNSON: ”Jett is coming off an impressive win two weeks ago against the now number one contender for the Pride Championship, John Austin!”

VASSA: ”I wish Carmella would have came down to ringside with him. Boy is she a beauty!”

JOHNSON: ”Any female in 4CW is a beauty to you. You seriously need to calm down before you get slapped with a sexual harassment suit.”

VASSA: ”WHAT?! All I said was she is a beauty. It’s not like I’m hitting on her, that’s Perry’s job.”

With Jett now in the ring, Bronx looks over at him, unsure of what to do as it has been rumored the two are brothers. A slapping sound then pierces over the crowd, quickly drawing Bronx’s attention. Growing furious at the sight of Sullivan slapping Nova, Bronx quickly takes off from his position and rushes in to save her. As Sullivan whips her head back and forth by the hair, Bronx grabs him from behind and squeezes tightly onto his ears. Sullivan quickly releases his grip of Nova’s hair as Bronx drags him to the center of the ring, still latching onto his ears. Going crazy, Bronx then slams Sullivan to the canvas and stomps madly on his head without any sense of care. Jett then runs over and joins him, stomping on Sullivan’s chest. The two continue to go at it, leaving Nova on the other side of the ring to catch a breather.

Jett then turns to the ropes and takes off towards them. After hitting them and coming back with speed, he delivers a low drop kick to the side of Sullivan’s face. Bronx then pulls Sullivan up to his feet and holds him for a moment, yelling at him furiously. Coming into the picture, Nova grabs onto one of Sullivan’s arms as Jett latches onto the other. With Sullivan restrained, Bronx then unloads with a combination of punches to the head and body. After landing ten or so punches, Bronx then winds up and connects with a hard right hand to the mouth of Sullivan knocking him out of Jett and Nova’s clutches and sending him rolling across the ring.

VASSA: ”Well this is a little odd, team work when everyone is supposed to be fending for themselves.”

JOHNSON: ”There’s some sort of connection between Bronx and Nova. I don’t know exactly what it is but it’s something nonetheless.”

VASSA: ”If the rumors are true, I can see why Jett is helping as well. I just don’t know if you can really believe that Perry is also Jett’s father.”

“Lift Me Up” hits the speakers as pyro explodes from all over the stage. Watson is standing on the entrance ramp, dressed in his ring tights, and a pair of matching boots. He begins to limber up as the fans begin to cheer loudly for him.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring from Salt Lake City, Utah, weighing in at two hundred twenty five pounds and standing six feet, three inches tall. He is “The Sensational One”, Nick Watson!”

Watson begins to make his way down to the ring, slapping hands, and pausing to sign autographs with the fans as he slowly makes his way down. He pauses for a long time as he reaches the ring, looking around at all of the people in attendance that evening before grinning, and jumping up to the apron. Entering the ring, Watson stands back for a moment, looking on as the assault from everyone else continues to rain down on Sullivan.

VASSA: ”That’s everyone folks! Now to just sit back and see who’s left standing in the ring when this thing is all over with.”

JOHNSON: ”This match has been going on for quite a while now. Bronx has been in here since the beginning and is starting to show signs of fatigue.”

VASSA: ”That’s why I said from the get go that I would sit back and let everyone else handle the majority of the work, you know, like I do here at the booth.”

Pulling Sullivan up to his feet, Bronx then throws him across the ring, rolling him in the direction of Watson. Jett then follows behind and leaps into the air, coming down across Sullivan’s head with a knee drop. Watson then pulls Sullivan up to his feet and slams him into the corner. Standing side by side with Jett, the two the team up for a moment, beating Sullivan down in the corner with punches and kicks, alternating turns and making each blow count.

Meanwhile on the other side of the ring, Bronx and Nova stand beside the ropes, talking to one another. Dropping down to one knee, Bronx then takes Nova’s hand, catching her off guard.

VASSA: ”Goddamn, he wasn’t kidding earlier! Is he about to do what I think he is?”

JOHNSON: ”It appears so, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”No fucking way he proposes to her right here and now while this match is taking place.”

JOHNSON: ”He mentioned it earlier to Perry but I didn’t take it as anything serious.”

VASSA: ”Love is in the air. It’s a beauti–“

JOHNSON: ”Look out!”

Running from the other side of the ring, Jett blindsides Nova with a shoulder block, knocking her over the top rope and shattering Bronx’s heart all in the same moment.


Popping up to his feet, Bronx throws a tantrum, backing Jett into the corner with a vicious tongue lashing. On the other side of the ring, Watson lifts Sullivan up and powers him up and over the top rope, eliminating yet another body within seconds of the last.


Holding his hands up and trying to calm Bronx down, Jett pleas with him for a few moments. Getting nowhere, he then tries to dart out of the corner but as he does, Watson surprises him with a spinning elbow to the dome, knocking him against the ropes. Grabbing ahold of Jett, Watson then tries to lift him up over the top but struggles a bit as Jett latches onto the top rope. Stepping in on the other side, Bronx grabs onto Jett’s other leg and lifts, helping Watson. Giving the fight everything he has, Jett clenches onto the top rope for dear life. With both men lifting him up, his grip eventually slips as Bronx and Watson throw him over the top and watch as he crashes hard to the floor.


VASSA: ”Holy Hell! That’s three eliminations in less than a minute. Where did all of this energy come from?!”

JOHNSON: ”It was like a chain reaction. One elimination led to another and another and here we are with two bodies left in the ring with the Fright Night Warzone of Horrors spot on the line!”

Stepping away from the ropes, both Watson and Bronx make their way to the center of the ring, keeping eye contact with one another. With the crowd growing louder and louder, the two slowly begin to circle each other, waiting for the opportune moment to strike and catch the other off guard.

Shooting in, Watson warps his arms around Bronx’s leg and takes him to the canvas with a single leg takedown. He then goes to mount himself on Bronx but has a hard time as Bronx fights against him, keeping him pushed down to his legs. Pulling his foot out from under Watson, Bronx then kicks him in the forehead, knocking him aside and freeing himself. The two then race to get to their feet, Watson standing first. With Bronx off balance as he stands, Watson then moves in, grabs ahold of his head and drops him to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker.

With the after effects of the move sinking in, Bronx rests on his back, obviously showing tremendous signs of fatigue from being in the match for so long and constantly involved in one shape or another. Grabbing Bronx by the arm, Watson slowly pulls him up to both feet and then drives his knee forward, into Bronx’s stomach. Pulling Bronx in closely, Watson applies a side headlock and cranks down on the pressure for a few moments. He then takes a few steps forward before transitioning into a slow paced run. Jumping into the air, Watson keeps a firm hold on Bronx’s head and drives it into the canvas with a bulldog.

JOHNSON: ”Bronx has been through quite a bit being one of the first four to start things off in the rumble tonight. It’s really starting to show with his sluggish movement.”

VASSA: ”He’s been through a lot since the sound of the bell and it appears to be taking its toll on him physically. The man just looks tired.”

JOHNSON: ”There’s no doubt about that! The bad thing, for him, is that Nick Watson was the final person to enter. He’s fresh while Bronx isn’t.”

Back on his feet, Watson picks Bronx up from the mat and then lifts him onto his shoulders. With Bronx trapped with no where to go, Watson then slams him to the mat with a Samoan drop. Rolling over to his stomach, Watson pushes himself back up before turning to the corner and quickly making his way towards it. Climbing to the top, Watson turns around to face Bronx in the ring who is still down and not showing much signs of life. Leaping into the air, Watson floats forward while doing a backflip that transitions into a splash as he lands across Bronx’s body.

JOHNSON: ”With Bronx in serious need of a second or third wind, Nick is really going to get plenty of opportunities to showcase his skills as he just did with that perfectly executed shooting star splash.”

VASSA: ”He made it look so easy too! I can’t even imagine being able to do that. I’d break my neck!”

In no rush to get back up, Watson takes his time to stand while looking down at Bronx who looks helpless, fighting for air. Watson then grabs him by the head and pulls him back to his feet before throwing him into the corner close by. With Bronx holding himself up in the corner with his arms spread across the top ropes, Watson the rushes in and drives his knee into his stomach, squashing him against the corner. He then grabs onto Bronx, keeping him from falling to a seated position and then lifts him up, sitting him on top of the corner. Climbing to the middle rope, Watson wraps his head while place Flipp’s arm over his and then lifts him up into the air before dropping him down to the mat with a super-plex.

VASSA: ”I don’t know how much more of this Bronx is going to be able to take. He’s clearly worn down. I’m sure Nick could toss him out of the ring with ease now.”

JOHNSON: ”We see a lot of crazy things happen by the ropes. I’m guessing that Nick is using the mentality that it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

Back up on his feet, Watson paces around the ring as the sounds from the crowd fill the arena. He then looks back to Bronx for a short moment before moving in and dropping a knee into the side of Bronx’s. Back to his feet, Watson then drops two more knees to Bronx’s before pulling him back to his feet. With Bronx barely able to keep his balance, Nick drags him to the corner once more and slams his back against it. He then lifts Bronx up and sits him back onto the top of the corner. Delivering a couple of quick rights, Watson punches Bronx in the stomach before climbing the corner again, this time to the top rope. Standing over Bronx, Nick holds onto his head with both hands while looking over the arena.

JOHNSON: ”If this is what I think it is then Bronx is in trouble!”

VASSA: ”I’ll go ahead and say that Bronx has been in trouble for quite a while as it is. Nick is just having his way with him, almost toying with him.”

Watson the jumps into the air while spreading his legs.

JOHNSON: ”He’s going for the Salt Lake Di–“


Before Watson can wrap his legs around Bronx’s head for the Frankensteiner, Bronx drives his fists into his chest, knocking him backwards away from the corner. Hitting the mat hard, Nick rolls a couple of times across the ring before stopping in front of the ropes. Moving quickly to get to his feet, Nick pushes himself up as Bronx hops down from the corner. Like a madman, Bronx then charges towards Watson and just as he stands, he ducks and then raises his body back up, lifting Bronx over his head and flipping him over the top rope.


While upside down, Bronx grabs onto the top rope and swings himself around while turning his body with his feet touching down on the apron.

JOHNSON: ”Bronx is still up and Nick doesn’t even have a clue!”

With the crowd going crazy in the background, Watson slowly turns around only to get caught off guard as Bronx grabs ahold of him. Pulling Watson in, Bronx sticks his knee through the ropes and drives it into his stomach. He then locks his arm around Watson’s head before grabbing the back of his pants and lifting him into the air for a suplex. With Watson upside down above his head, Bronx then turns his body and falls backwards onto the apron while Nick drops down to the floor.


JOHNSON: ”Nick Watson has been eliminated! Bronx pulled off the huge upset at the end!”

VASSA: ”Bronx is going to the Warzone of Horrors at Fright Night!”

JOHNSON: ”How did he manage to turn things around right there at the end?”

VASSA: ”We all had him pegged for finished but he continued to push and look at him now.”


“What You Know About That” hits the speakers as the crowd erupts into cheers after the spectacular finish. Climbing through the ropes, Bronx stumbles towards the center of the ring before getting caught by the official who helps him stand. Raising his arm into the air, Bronx looks to the sky with his lips clearly reading “It Me”.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner of the over the top rope elimination rumble… BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Well there’s the fifth person for the Fright Night Warzone of Horrors.”

VASSA: ”With Wallace giving these newer signees a chance to earn a spot, any one of these wrestlers in this rumble would have made a great addition. Bronx should be proud of this moment as he’s made quite an impact since signing with 4CW.”

JOHNSON: ”This match was crazy from start to finish. You never really know what to expect with matches like this. At any given moment, someone can step up and surprise everyone in the ring. Bronx did just that tonight.”

VASSA: ”Hopefully things work out with him and Nova too. He was literally about to propose to her right there in the ring while the match was taking place.”

JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen a lot of things here at the booth but I’ve never seen someone propose to another wrestler with a match on going in the background. I guess there’s a first time for everything!”

The camera catches Gold Standard hanging in their luxury lockeroom backstage set up by Carmella Wilder. There is natural spring water straight from the source for Francis “Freedom” Dart and all emerald M&M’s for “Public Enemy #1” Drew Stevenson. Drew is massaging the shoulders of Kat Jones and John Austin is in another corner of the room talking to his wife on his cellphone. There is a knock on the door and Gold Standard all look at each other as conspicuous by his absence is Head of Security Trojan Magnum.

STEVENSON: ”Where’s big Troj at Free?”

DART: ”I don’t know dude..I haven’t seen him all day, but you can bet your ass he’ll have hell to pay once I find out where he’s been.”

KAT: ”Maybe our boss Carmella gave him the day off or something? “

STEVENSON: ”The question still remains..who’s going to get the door? Come on’s usually for you anyway.”

DART: ”All the reason I shouldn’t answer it..what if it’s “her” again?

They all three look over at John Austin.

AUSTIN: ”Don’t look at me..I would but I’m on the phone with my wife.”

KAT: ” know what? I’ll get it. Sometimes I think I’m the toughest bitch in Gold Standard as opposed to just being a bitch like you fellas.”

STEVENSON: ”I’d agree with that..That’s why you are with little queen.”

Freedom puffs out his chest.

DART: ”Hey..I’m tough as nails. I just suddenly got a Charlie horse or I would be answering that shit in a heartbeat.”

KAT: ”Sure you would Free..sure you would.”

She gets up and glares at both Drew and Freedom who cower down when they make eye contact with her. She goes to the door and opens it up and looks around not noticing the little girl standing in front of her is so short she’s not really on eye level.

LITTLE GIRL: ”I was told to give this to Mr. Freedom.

Kat looks down and notices the little girl holding an American flag neatly folded into a triangle. Kat looks around before flashing the little girl a smile and gently takes the flag out of her hands. She whispers so nobody can hear her being nice to the little girl.

KAT: ”Aren’t you adorable? Thank you little cutie.”

The little girl smiles at Kat then skips off as “All About That Bass” by Meghan Trainor blares in the background. Kat walks back in and hands the neatly folded flag to Freedom who quickly jumps up all excited.

KAT: ”What happened to that Charlie horse?”

DART: ”It worked itself out. It was more of a Jair mule than a Charlie horse.

KAT: ”More like you are a horse’s ass..”

STEVENSON: ”Hey Free..what does the flag mean?”

DART: ”How the hell should I know? Unless they’re panties I’m lost.”

They all laugh in unison. Austin interrupts.

AUSTIN: ”Guess we will all find out later tonight won’t we?”

Austin gets back to his cell phone call with his wife. Kat, Drew and Free laugh hysterically as the scene fades.

POWERS: ”Get your lighters ready, your bong or bowl on stand by. Your doob or your spliff rolled and ready. We’re about to have a session folks. Not just a session but the return edition of “The Session.” here in the Conte Forum. I’d like for you to get on your feet, hold your cups up and give it up for your host…The Former Pride and the former Four C W champion Flipp-Hop!”

“White Iverson” by Post Malone flares up from the PA system as the band Wasted Youth adds a little spice to it. Lo’Renzo and Jair stepping from behind the curtains dancing as Lo’Renzo points out to the raging crowd. The duo doing their handshake before making their ways to the ring. They step inside the ring enjoying the new set up for The Session. Lo’Renzo holding his cup in the air before being handed his custom ty-die microphone.

FLIPP: ”WOOOOOOOOOOOOO….it’s back y’all. Welcome to The Session. We are your host Lo’Renzo Porter and Jair Hopkins and boyyyy are we excited for this tonight. Firstly though give it up for the man behind the tools Mike Powers.”

The crowd claps.

HOPKINS: ”Also give it up for the band Wasted Youth.”

The band plays a little tune before they wave out to the crowd.

FLIPP: ”Fashow…now as you all know tonight this is the return of The Session tonight man. Last time round it was me and G Hart out here wit y’all. This time round it’s gone be me and the brodie out here. I jus wanna say one more time thanks for doin this wit me brogo.”

HOPKINS: ”No problemo fam. This is nice right here.”

FLIPP: ”Now I would’ve felt wrong if we left G Hart outta this. He was apart of The Session from the jump, and I know wit how jam packed these Four C Dub shows get not everyone makes it inside. That’s why outside of The Conte Forum right now there is G Hart who will have some viewer questions for our guest tonight.”

The rowdy crowd cheers once more.

HOPKINS: ”And as you all know a few days ago we just took part in the Fight One battle Royal that hosted Four Corners Wrestling and Boardwalk Wrestling. Enemy Territory was a dope show and even though we didn’t win we went out there and represented Four C W. If y’all missed the show make sure you catch a replay.”

FLIPP: ”Worrrrrrdddd. Last Adrenaline was one helluva Adrenaline. Pee Dub made the announcement concernin Fright Night and The Warzone. If you missed it here it goes.”

The cameras switch to the big screen recapping Adrenaline Thirty. The crowd booing and cheering at some moments.

FLIPP: ”Flipp-Hop in the Warzone. Sounds cray right? Like mannnn…how right? We both get this opportunity and Framo you could be lookin at the new Four C Dub Champion come Fright Night.”

HOPKINS: ”Most def some crazy ish. Caught me by surprise, believe it caught everyone by surprise but we are gonna do our thing. Everybody wondering how we gonna cooperate in that madness. Always folks tryna start issues.”

Hops points to Flipp.

HOPKINS: ”We got the advantage, being we are a team. We gonna have moments where we get to show off those team skills and easing the load for us. Two titles up in the air for grabbin!”

Lo’Renzo holds up two fingers.

FLIPP: ”That’s right…two. Wouldn’t it be extra swave if Flipp-Hop walked out of Fright Night wit both straps?”

Lo’Renzo smiles while the crowd steady cheers.

FLIPP: ”And what bout that Main Event where you saw Flipp-Hop come through wit the dub over Golden Standard? It was tough as always out there but aye we won our first time as a team out there. That’s what’s up.”

HOPKINS: ”The first of many bro. What you saw last week is sure to fall over this week. We got the momentum on our side tonight as we take on Dakota Smith and Felicity Banks.”

FLIPP: ”Yup, of course Felicity is already in the Warzone and so is Dakota. There is gonna be a lot of tempers flaring out there tonight. Nobody wants to walk into Fright Night with a L trailin them.

HOPKINS: ”And me and Flipp we are a team. Dakota and Felicity they aren’t so how they work together is a big question for tonight.”

Jair makes a question mark with his finger.

FLIPP: “Witout a doubt. We got chemistry wit each other where Fel and Dakota don’t. Framo it’s gonna be a good one as always.”

HOPKINS: “Indeed…indeed.”

FLIPP: ”We would like to take this time to bow our heads and send out a lil Loyal Framo prayer to where I’m from in the eight o three to the lost ones durin this horrible time.”

Lo’Renzo takes his bucket hat from over his dreads and holds it to his chest as everyone in attendance bows their heads.

FLIPP: ”Aight Framo, it’s time for a lil somethin new we gone be doin on The Session. For this week this video we bout to play is bout when people don’t be understandin what I be sayin. So this lil feature for tonight is called ‘The Substitute’. Enjoy.”

The feed switches to ‘The Substitute’ where a class of High School students sit inside a classroom waiting for their teacher to arrive doing normal student things. One in particular seated in the middle of the classroom showing a girl a picture in his phone being portrayed by Jair Hopkins.

DARREL: “I’m telling you these dudes got nothing on me. My wheels have them turning heads shawty.”

He smiled at the Puerto Rican girl who blushes as he continues to swipe through his phone. A group of the students were gathered up watching a fight that happened today. ‘Ewww’s and Awww’s’ coming from all over the place.

TYRONE: “Damn son she dead ass was getting her ass beat.”

The classroom door swings open and in steps the substitute teacher being portrayed by Lo’Renzo Porter who’s dressed as sharp as he can be. He adjust the glasses on his face as he sits his briefcase on the desk. Darrell laughing out loud before looking around the classroom.

DARREL: “Who you suppose to be?”

The substitute grabs a marker and writes his name out on the board. His name Mr. Drexler.

DARREL: “Just yesterday we had Mrs. Funchess and now you. You don’t even look like a teacher dude. What? You in here preying on underage girls?”

DREXLER: “And you must be Darell. The janitor had allot to say about you.”

DARREL: “Everybody does. Imma five star athlete with many options. Many many many options.”

Darrel smirks while sitting back in his desk.

DREXLER: I bet you don’t have a scholarship to go to L.U?”.

DARREL: “Where? Whoever heard of that?”

Mr. Drexler steps from behind his desk and props himself on the edge of it.

DREXLER: “Language University.”

The class looks around confused.

DREXLER: “The school I graduated number one in my class, and today you going to learn a little bit of what they taught me at L.U.”

Mr.Drexler makes his way back to the board where he erases his name and writes down Rilla.

DREXLERr: “Rilla.”

He holds two fingers towards his eyes before pointing those two fingers at Darrel.

DREXLER: “Our first word of the day is Rilla which is a syllable. That means two words put together. The two words that make up Rilla is Real and Gorilla. For example. That’s my rilla right there.”

He made sure he has the class divided attention.

DREXLER: “Real is for being a real individual, and Gorilla is for if you would go bananas for that person.”

Darrel nods his head.

DARREL: “I get it. Like all these girls I be hitting is my rillas because I be putting my banana in them.

He laughed along with a couple of the students as Mr. Drexler erases Rilla from the board and writes down Idiot.

DREXLER: “I’m sure you know all about the meaning of this word Darrel.”

Darell stops laughing as some of the students laugh at him.

DARREL: “Alright y’all chill out now.”

DREXLER: “And the last word you’re going to learn today is Westy. Westy can be used when someone is getting on your nerves. For example, come on man you need to take that ish Westy. Now I’ve given you two words already and now I want five sentences apiece using the words Rilla and Westy.”

DARREL: “What?”

The class sucks their teeth and groans as Mr. Drexler takes his seat at the desk. The cameras fading as he opens his briefcase and looks through it.

FLIPP: ”So when you out and you wit yo ride or die that would be yo…”

He holds the microphone out toward the crowd as they shout “Rilla.”

HOPKINS: ”And when you don’t like something somebody is doing they should take it…”

He holds his microphone out toward the crowd as they shout ‘Westy”. Wasted Youth playing a little number as Flipp-Hop takes their seat behind the desk.

FLIPP: ”Also here is a scene from the premiere of my fav new series on TV Havok on the Evolve network.”

The big screen shows some of the brutality and gore from the first episode of Havok.

HOPKINS: ”That gave me the chills.”

Lo’Renzo takes a swallow from his cup before straightening up the papers on the desk.

FLIPP: ”Alright y’all it’s time to bring this real real special guest out tonight. This guy has seen it all and nine times out of ten has done it all. He’s a uber time champion and prolly one of the most decorated wrestlers we know. I honestly don’t know what else I can say…get on your feet and give it up for Chris Madison Framo.”

The band Wasted Youth begins to play a live cover of Chris Madison’s entrance song “You Want A Battle? (Here’s a War)” by Bullet For My Valentine. Chris Madison pushes his way through the entranceway to a standing ovation from the live audience. He marches down to the ring, partially dressed for his upcoming match with Cyrus Riddle, already wearing his fight shorts and boots along with a black baseball cap and white t-shirt. Madison stops at the steps and looks around the arena, cracking a smile before climbing into the ring to join Jair Hopkins and Lo’Renzo Porter.

HOPKINS: ”Welcome to The Session C Mad. For the first Session back since it’s hiatus we wanted to bring out somebody I’m sure the fans would wanna get to know. Y’all show some love for this man one more time.”

The crowd continues to cheer the veteran of the squared circle as Lo’Renzo and Jair take their seats behind their desk. Chris taking his seat on the plush blue sofa.

FLIPP: ”How you feelin Chris?”

MADISON: ”As good as ever bud.”

FLIPP: ”That’s what’s up brah. I’m glad you could join us out here tonight on the Return of The Session. I was contemplatin on who should be the very first guest on the return and I thought bout you. So yeah man thanks for joinin us out here.”

Lo’Renzo salutes toward Chris before taking a sip from his cup.

MADISON: ”The honor is all mine.”

HOPKINS: ”For those who don’t know Chris Madison is one of the more consistent guys in this business today. You see him wrestle and you immediately realize why he always stands out. Chris, let the peeps know when you got your start in this business.”

MADISON: ”Feels like ages ago. I broke into the sport back in 2000 bouncing from gymnasium to gymnasium, performing for crowds of twenty people. Mostly up here in the northeast.”

Hopkins nods his head whilst Flipp does the same.

FLIPP: ”Damn just twenty peeps. I can imagine how those shows were. You remember when you made your professional debut and was you nervous cuz I know fashow that I was.”

MADISON: ”Even for just those twenty people my nerves were out of control. To this day I still get butterflies before a big match. Early in my career promoters paraded me out to the ring like a sideshow because at the time hardcore wrestling was making a strong push on the scene and I have this inner motor that just pushes me forward no matter what’s thrown my way.”

FLIPP: ”I can tell from the attitude you bring to the game. I know it’s allot of lil kids that look up to you out there. Some of them right now goal is to be like us. When you decided that you wanted to be a professional wrestler?”

MADISON: ”Growing up I’ve always been a competitor. I’ve been wrestling since I was a little kid. Wrestled throughout high school and a couple years of college. I realized that I didn’t want that part of my life to ever end so I explored my options, found a pro wrestling school and it’s all history from there.”

Hopkins smirks flashing the gold grill on his teeth.

HOPKINS: ”Aight, cutting through the cheese here, Chris, in a couple weeks at “Fright Night” you are going to go toe to toe with Lord Raab in a Lion’s Den Match. That is going to be sick match between you two. You ready to take care of business?”

MADISON: ”I’m always ready. But Lord Raab has a special place in my heart right now. He dug his own grave whether he wants to be man enough to admit it or not. Back in APW, The Black Hand was formed to be a brotherhood. We were supposed to do whatever it takes to look out for one another and help each other further themselves in this business. APW closed its doors and Raab turned his back on Knox and I. He deserves every bit of what’s coming to him at Fright Night. I don’t care how many of these so called amatuer MMA fights he takes part in. In Brooklyn I’m going to knock his teeth down his throat and force him to tap out!”

Flipp smiles as a question comes to mind.

FLIPP: ”For me right now one of my fave moments in my career is winnin the Pride Championship belt. What would you say is one of yo fave moments man?”

MADISON: ”Winning championships are always special in this sport. For me each title was just as important as the last. But my favorite moment has to be successfully defending my Second-To-None World Championship against Brad Jackson in Tokyo. For me, Brad Jackson was always that mountain that I could never seem to climb. Beating him, especially in Tokyo, a place that is near and dear to my heart, was my proudest moment in the business.”

HOPKINS: ”Aight, here’s an easy one for you. Before every match, what is your go-to track to get you hyped up? I always stick to M.O.P’s “Ante Up!” for my go-to track when I come out of the locker room.”

MADISON: ”Complete different genre… “Walk” by Pantera. Gets the blood flowing, gets the adrenaline going.”

Lo’renzo adjusted in his seat, clearing his throat before asking a question.

FLIPP: ”I see you already dressed up for your match tonight. You versus Cyrus Riddle. I know you wanna head into Fright Night with a victory. Cy Riddle has been makin a lil name round the dub. Any thoughts bout the matchup?”

MADISON: ”Cyrus Riddle is legit. The guy is a top notch talent. I don’t know if everyone saw it but the guy just went through a war with Ian Bishop for Boardwalk’s Atlantic City Championship. I’m looking forward to this match. Some guys might prefer a light match to warm them up going into a major card. Me, I welcome the fight. It’s matches like this that make it hard for me to walk away from wrestling. No matter the outcome, Boston wins! They get to witness first hand, two of the toughest sons of bitches in the sport today trying to tear each other apart.”

‘Boston chants stir up as the cameras pan around showing the animated crowd.

HOPKINS: ”I’m getting word that outside of the Conte Forum Gabriel Hartman is standing with Justin for our first viewer question.”

Cameras pick up outside where Hartman stands in front of a roaring crowd with Justin. A smile to his face as he awaits for the fans to quiet down.

HARTMAN: ”I’m standing….”

In his ear peice Hartman’s told that the cameras are cutting back to the ring.

JOHNSON: ”What the hell is this?”

VASSA: ”Lord Raab and Samuel McPherson are crashing the party! Chris Madison has no idea!”

Madison, Hopkins, and Porter continue to watch the screen thinking there might be some technical difficulties. Raab and McPherson push through the crowd and slide in under the ropes behind the trio. They bull rush Madison, bumping passed Flipp-Hop. They hit Madison simultaneously with running forearm smashes, hitting Madison in the back of the head and knocking him through the ropes to the outside of the ring. Hopkins and Flipp move towards the ropes and shout at The Monstimals as they follow Madison to the outside of the ring.

JOHNSON: ”Raab is still bitter that Madison intervened in their tag match against Maximus Dunn and El Futuro. He blames Madison for the loss.”

VASSA: ”He’s got a point. Madison had no business being out there.”

Raab lifts Madison up and quickly tosses him aside, back first into the steel steps. McPherson marches over to Madison and reaches down, grab in his throat with both of his hands. He lifts Madison up over his head and begins to choke him as his feet dangle in the air. Madison nails McPherson with a few stiff right hands, desperately trying to break out of the choke hold. McPherson releases and drops Madison to his feet. Madison throws a clothesline but McPherson ducks under it. McPherson and Madison both spin back towards each other and McPheron nearly decapitates him with a big boot.

JOHNSON: ”Enough is enough! Madison still has to face Riddle later tonight…”

Lord Raab drops down into a full mount over Madison and begins raining down rights and lefts as he tries his best to cover up. Madison reaches up and clutches onto Raab and bucks his hips, flipping him onto his back and switching positions. Before Madison could get any offense in McPherson grabs him by the back of the head and tosses him into the security railing the surrounds the ringside area. Hopkins and Porter have seen enough, they climb out of the ring and flank the Monstimals from opposite sides. Raab and McPherson look down at Madison as he begins pushing to his feet. Realizing they’re outnumbered they climb over the security railing and begin to slowly back they’re way through the crowd.

VASSA: ”Thank god or I don’t think Madison would’ve been able to compete here tonight if it wasn’t for Flipp Hop.”

As Hopkins helps Madison Lo’Renzo slides back in the ring and snatches his microphone from the desk.

FLIPP: ”Sorry for the inconvenience Framo, but that’s gonna have to be a wrap. Stay strapped cuz there is plenty more action left for tonight. This has been The Session. Peace.”

Wasted Youth begins to play another tune as the cameras cut to a Fright Night video package.

The scene switches backstage, finding none other than Aidan Carlisle standing before the mirror in the ladies’ room. She silently, intently stares at her reflection, the cold water running in the sink with her fingers beneath the spray, contemplating her upcoming match in silence. Finally, she shakes her head and turns off the faucet before drying her hands. She leans toward the mirror one last time to fix a stray wisp of hair that has escaped her uncharacteristically polished style for the night.

A toilet was heard flushing from one of the stalls behind her, catching her attention as she stares curiously into the mirror. After a few moments, she turns back for one more glance at herself before leaving, but the stall door opens. Cyrus Riddle stands in the doorway, staring her down with a fierce gaze. He takes two steps out, but she turns around and charges at him, aiming for his face with her closed fist in hopes of reopening the cut above his eye that Ian Bishop busted open at Dead Man’s Hand.

However, Riddle ducks the punch, and before Aidan can mount another attack, he wraps piano wire around her neck, pulling her to the sink with force as he stands behind her, the both of them staring into the mirror together. His eyes give away his intentions, looking cold and evil, as if he is going to make sure that only one of them walks out. He speaks low, almost in a whisper.

RIDDLE: “Fancy running into you here…”

He smirks sadistically as he keeps the wire tight. Though her head was tilted back, practically on his shoulder to keep as much pressure off of her throat as possible, she doesn’t struggle, for now, as she stares into the reflection of his eyes.

CARLISLE: “Oh, look. You are capable of finding me.”

RIDDLE: “You should know how good I am at that, I found you in Albany, didn’t I?”

CARLISLE: “Yet you couldn’t manage to find me in the hospital…”

RIDDLE: “Bit difficult for that when I am in a jail cell, wouldn’t you think?”

CARLISLE: “You’re a resourceful guy, you didn’t have any trouble sticking your dick in someone.”

The grin on his face can’t be wiped away.

RIDDLE: “You know how it is, Aidan, I have to administer my injections. At least this one wasn’t scandalous and heartbreaking like you.”

CARLISLE: “No, just cheap and easy.”

He tightens the wire some more, making sure it presses against her throat to hinder proper speech as he turns his head to the side.

RIDDLE: “Might want to watch…what the fuck… you say. I haven’t quite felt like playing nice lately. But, it is rich for you to label someone cheap, considering you aligned yourself with not only a loser, but a man who tried to force himself on you. That’s cheap… it’s very, very low, even for you.”

Her fist lashes out, driving into his face, or rather, the reflection of his face, shattering the bathroom mirror. She grabs one of the shards that stuck to the wall, swinging it back toward his thigh. He loosens his grip on the wire to dodge the glass, but grabs her hair and pushes her face forward near the broken mirror.

RIDDLE: “You daft slag, you really want to do that? I will make you unrecognisable. I told you a long time ago that I am capable of more than you can understand, and now you have a little preview of that.”

CARLISLE: “What the fuck do you want? Look in the mirror, you whiny, hypocritical fuck. You’re not better than me. While your opponent was busy coming after me, you were too goddamn busy burying your cock in the first tart you could find to notice. He called you that night with my phone, and you didn’t answer. You don’t think I know what you were doing? You didn’t even wait twenty-four fucking hours, so dont’ you play the white knight card with me.”

He turns her around to face him violently, grabbing a shard from the mirror and holding it to her cheek while getting close to her face and looking into her eyes. She leans forward ever so slightly, almost daring him to cut her.

RIDDLE: “We were done, you wanted to stop, so I did what I needed to do. If you were so fucking bitter, you could have told me. At least I didn’t seek out your enemy. Even in betrayal, there are degrees worse than others.”

CARLISLE: “I left Liam. I picked up the phone to call you and tell you, and what did I see before I could even dial, but your little blonde plaything right in my fucking face!”

He pauses momentarily, doing his best to resist doing anything violent. He gives her a curious look.

RIDDLE: “Then why didn’t you call anyway?”

CARLISLE: “Because if you moved on before the fluids on your precious Atlantic City Championship had even dried when we were done with it then obviously it never meant a fucking thing to you. You want to know why I did this? Look in the fucking mirror. You are your own fucking answer.”

He presses against her with his right hand and scratches his head with the glass shard with the left, chuckling to himself slightly as he shakes his head.

RIDDLE: “No… no… no, this isn’t my doing. You showed up in my business Thursday night. You aren’t getting in my head anymore. You made me this way.”

CARLISLE: “You’re right, I did show up in Atlantic City, and I showed you the kindness you wouldn’t even give me. I made the first blow physical, so the rest would hurt just a little bit less. It was a mercy you didn’t deserve, and it’s probably the last one I’ll ever give you.”

RIDDLE: “You still doubt yourself, that’s nice to know. There are no uncertainties here. You wanted to hurt less, but in fact, you will hurt more. You chose the wrong side.”

CARLISLE: “The problem with that, Cyrus Riddle… is that now I don’t feel a fucking thing. The side I chose was my own damn side. I will go after what I want, how I want. I’m so fucking tired of doing everything for everyone else. I’m tired of bending over backwards for everyone around me and not a fucking one of them ever noticing it. I’m tired of putting my life on the backburner for people that don’t appreciate it. So… Fuck. Everyone. I am about me.”

RIDDLE: “That’s touching, it really is. Kind of reminds me of myself during our entire stint with one another. I fight to get into your life, you resist, then come in, then act as if I am some liability after I give you the night of your fucking life. You slam the bloody door, leave me empty, and all was supposed to be well? Obviously, you thought wrong, very wrong. I went to jail because I trashed my place when I received news about you, but you didn’t reach out until you felt my ribs needed a collision test. Funny how, between you and Dakota, he was the one that never turned his back on me. He’s better than you are, and yet he has the lesser reputation… your majesty.”

CARLISLE: “You didn’t lift a fucking finger to try to get me to stay, you self-centered, arrogant prick! ONE WORD!!! ONE! That’s all it would have taken, but you did NOTHING!”

RIDDLE: “Self-centered? Telling you to go to be happy with the person you audibly wanted was self-centered? Then imagine what I can do now that I am not going to be so fucking giving. I’ll take what I want, where before I would have let it go.”

CARLISLE: “Then let’s go. I always said we were the same kind of monster.”

He holds the glass shard up to her and acts as if he wants to stick her with it, but just can’t bring himself to. Instead, he looks to the side while licking his lips, taking the shard and slicing the stitches open above his eye, causing blood to run down his face. He places his forehead against hers.

RIDDLE: “You aren’t ready for my kind of monster, you haven’t went deep enough.”

She presses her forehead right back into his, letting his blood run over them both while one hand reaches out, feeling blindly for the shard of mirror in his fingers, and pressing her own palm against it until flesh splits and blood runs. She then lays her hand ever so gently against his cheek.

CARLISLE: “Then I guess we’ll just have to start digging, baby.”

His teeth grind and his breathing becomes very controlled as he stands there, tasting his blood and smelling the metallic scent of hers.

RIDDLE: “You’re doing things on my terms now. You’re playing a new game that you just aren’t ready for, nor will you ever be.”

Her hand trails from his cheek, across his mouth, spreading her blood across his lips.

CARLISLE: “Only time will tell, won’t it? You wanted to break me from the start. Well, you did, and I didn’t put the pieces back together in the same order. You won. How do you like your prize?”

He pushes her hand away and grabs her by the hair.

RIDDLE: “My prize is broken, but I have no problems slicing it apart and putting it back together the way it should be. Even if it fucking kills me.”

CARLISLE: “Shall we start our little dance with the devil right here and now? You’ve got me all tingly inside, I’m ready if you are.”

He looks her over and wipes his blood across what part of her cleavage is exposed and her shirt before getting face to face with her once more.

RIDDLE: “Sorry to disappoint, but I’ve made your partner a promise, I won’t kill you until after Fright Night. But, you can still be vigilant, because you never know where I might show up. Maybe even your brother’s house.”

He dabs the blood from his lips and stares at it.

RIDDLE: “Hope I don’t catch anything, you are fucking a disease infested drugee after all.”

CARLISLE: “Sticks and stones, love.”

RIDDLE: “More like knives and chains. Don’t worry, I’ll reserve my most twisted treatment just for you.”

CARLISLE: “I’ll be waiting.”

RIDDLE: “That won’t be necessary, because you won’t know when it’s happening… kind of like when Ian sticks it in.”

CARLISLE: “Oh, playground pettiness. Adorable, really.”

He laughs, shaking his head.

RIDDLE: “Petty… truth… call it what you will. You aren’t untouchable, he isn’t indestructible, and you both will meet your ends. I’m done here, watch your back. You know what everything does.”

Aidan watches as he backs toward the door after unwinding the wire from her neck, keeping her eyes on him until he has disappeared entirely. Finally, she turns back to the shattered mirror. She wrinkles her nose as she grabs a fistful of paper towels to wipe his blood from her face. Her shirt is a loss, though. At least it will make for a nice little sight in the ring.

CARLISLE: “Fucker. That was expensive.”


POWERS: “Introducing first, from Hollywood, California, weighting two hundred fifty-four pounds, Keeelleeen Shaaaw!!!”

“Break” by Three Days Grace fills the arena as Shaw makes his way down to the ring, sliding under the bottom rope and leaning into his corner as he awaits his opponent.

POWERS: “And his opponent, weighing in at two hundred and forty-five pounds and hailing from Chicago, Illinois, Fraaanciiis ‘Freeedooom’ Daaart!!!”

“Dirty Deeds” by AC/DC begins to play, and the fans start immediately booing as out comes Francis ‘Freedom’ Dart, power strutting, wearing black trunks and custom made black Nike Air Jordan shoes made for ring use. His Bodyguard ‘Big’ Trojan Magnum slowly walks behind them standing at 6’9 and weighing in at 315 pounds, wearing a black suit, black dress pants, black RayBans and a black gangster style hat. Francis smirks as he walks by the fans, paying no real attention to them as he gets into the ring. Trojan immediately follows and watches Francis’ back while he waits for the match to start with an arrogant look on his face.

JOHNSON: “Kellen Shaw makes his debut here tonight and he doesn’t have an easy task ahead of him.”

VASSA: “Like him or not, you have to admit that Freedom has certainly made his impression in 4CW since his arrival.”


The moment the bell rings both men charge at one another. Kellen sends Freedom crashing into the mat with an arm drag, but Freedom rolls all the way through and back to his feet. As they collide mid-ring again, Shaw wraps Dart up for a belly-to-belly suplex.

Shaking off the cob-webs, Freedom comes back with a DDT that leaves Kellen laid out on the mat. Dart drops and locks his arms around the downed Shaw, wrenching him into a crossface. Kellen’s arms flail as the submission tightens, straining an arm toward the ropes, but he is clearly too far away to reach. He throws an elbow back into Freedom’s side, once, twice, breaking the hold with a third!

The two men roll away from one another to create some distance, each eyeing the other as they get to their feet. As Freedom races at Shaw, Kellen reverses into a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker! Shouting something obscene and gesturing rudely at his opponent, Shaw drops a hard elbow right into Dart’s chest. Giving Freedom no time to recover, Kellen quickly follows by leaping into the air and landing right on Freedom’s chest wit a double foot stomp!

VASSA: “Looks like Kellen is trying to make an impression of his own in his debut, right on Freedom’s chest!”

JOHNSON: “With as deep as the talent pool is here in 4CW, you have to make yourself stand out. If Shaw keeps that up, he will do just that!”

VASSA: “Sounds like he has his first fan already.”

JOHNSON: “Hey, I’m just stating the truth here.”

Dart holds his chest as he rolls on the mat, kicking his foot into the canvas several times to channel his anger. He pops to his feet with authority and immediately locks Shaw up, hitting him with an insane reverse pile driver. Freedom quickly tangles Kellen up on the mat, going for an STF, but Shaw gets his hands on the ropes before Dart can lock it in. Freedom cranks back anyway, using the as much of the five count as he can before releasing it to avoid disqualification.

Freedom grabs a handful of blonde hair and yanks the other man to his feet. He throws his arms around Kellen and flips him overhead with a belly-to-belly suplex that shakes the ring. Dart closes in on his opponent once more but Kellen puts Freedom on the mat with a double leg take-down, laying into him with a series of wild mounted munches to the face!

After one last hard strike, Shaw gets to his feet and backs across the ring all the way to the ropes. Running from the opposite side of the ring, Shaw throws the extra momentum behind a knee drop right to Dart’s head! He floats in for the cover and hooks the leg, the official moving in for the count.

JOHNSON: “Shaw with the first pin attempt, looking to put this match to bed early.”

VASSA “He may just be able to do it after that assault.”








JOHNSON: “Not quiet enough from Kellen to get the job done just yet.”

VASSA: “Freedom has never been an easy one to take down.”

Dart gets the shoulder up after just two and climbs to his feet. Shaw slaps the match in frustration, but gets to his feet as well. As Kellen runs in, looking for a hard lariat Freedom unleashes a spinning heel kick that takes him down. Shaw is back on his feet in a matter of seconds, glaring daggers. Kellen catches an incoming clothesline before it can connect, pulls back and unloads a furious European uppercut into Dart’s face.

As Freedom staggers back Shaw hooks an arm around Dart’s throat for a spinning neckbreaker. With Dart laid out on the mat, Shaw hits him with a standing corkscrew leg drop! He quickly hooks the leg for another pin attempt.








VASSA: “Close! But Freedom keeps himself in the game.”

JOHNSON: “If Kellen can keep his cool and keep up what he’s been doing, he could win this. But it looks like he’s got a temper…”

Once again Freedom gets his shoulder up before the three. Shaw argues with the ref, shouting that he’s counting too slowly, giving Dart time to get to his feet.

As Kellen is distracted with the official Dart hooks him up and launches him with a Dragon Suplex. Stalking forward and closing the distance between himself and his opponent, Freedom grabs both of Kellen’s legs, twisting them up and locking a sharpshooter! Shaw growls in pain as Dart tries to fold him in half with the submission maneuver. Kellen stretches his arm out, fingers coming up short of the ropes. Digging deep, he pulls himself forward, inching closer. Freedom drags him forward, back toward the middle of the ring and applies even more pressure. Shaw’s sounds of agony fill the arena as he tries again to get to the ropes, somehow managing to get his fingers around them! The official calls for the break, but once again Freedom holds on for several extra seconds.

JOHNSON: “Freedom using some underhanded tactics here to try to gain the advantage.”

VASSA: “He’s just willing to do what it takes to win, Steve!”

Kellen hold his back as he gets to his feet, but as soon as he lays eyes on Dart he races across the ring, blasting Freedom in the face with a running knee lift. Wasting no time, he then drives Dart into the mat with a Russian leg sweep. As Freedom gets back to his feet Kellen closes in for a forearm smash but Dart ducks under his arm and wraps him up for a German suplex.

Both men are back on their feet at the same time. Kellen grabs Freedom and heaves him up in an impressive show of strength, drilling him into the canvas with a brainbuster. He starts to go for another pin but Dart kicks out before the referee can even move in.

As they get to their feet Dart hooks his arms beneath Shaw’s from behind for a full nelson suplex, bridging for the pin! The official is there in a flash for the count.








JOHNSON: “A near-fall by Freedom, but Kellen manages to keep it alive. So far, I am liking what I see from 4CW’s newest addition.”

VASSA: “Oh calm yourself down already, the match isn’t over yet.”

Kellen gets the shoulder up, but doesn’t begin moving right away. Freedom leaves him there on the mat, heading for the corner and hopping up onto the top rope. Shaw struggles to his feet slowly, and Freedom bides his time. Launching himself from the turnbuckle as Kellen finally stands, Dart knocks Shaw right back to the mat with a diving shoulder block.

Shaw forces himself to his feet with determination as Dart stands again as well. Freedom lays into him with several right hands, but Kellen powers back with a double underhook DDT! Both men lay on the mat, the referee watching each, beginning the count as neither starts to stir.

VASSA: “Ouch! You know that had to hurt. Dart just had his head driven right into the mat at full force!”

JOHNSON: “And Kellen is still reeling from that assault.”

“One! … Two! … Three!”

Shaw is the first to start moving, dragging both arms across the mat and trying to get them beneath himself. Dart holds the back of his head where it was driven into the mat.

“Four! … Five! … Six! … Seven!”

Kellen pushes up onto his knees, running a hand over his face. Dart rolls onto his stomach.

“Eight! … Nine!”

Shaw gets to his feet and throws himself forward toward Freedom. Seemingly out of nowhere Dart launches to his feet, hooking Kellen’s neck and nailing him with Together They Fall!!!

JOHNSON: “My GOD!!! How did Freedom have the strength?! He could barely get to his feet!”

VASSA: “When you want something bad enough, Steve, nothing else matters!”

Freedom throws his arm across Shaw’s chest, not even able to hook the leg. The referee swoops in for the count.









JOHNSON: “Dart did it! Freedom picked up the win over Kellen Shaw!”

VASSA: “Kellen put up a hell of a fight.”

JOHNSON: “He certainly did. He’s going to have a bright future here in 4CW if he sticks with it.”

The referee grabs Freedom’s hand as he gets back to his feet, holding his arm in the air.

POWERS: “And here is your winner, Fraaanciiis ‘Freeedooom’ Daaart!!!”

White noise fills our television screen once more. When it is gone, we find ourselves floating on a canoe. The scene is peaceful and serene. It is early morning and nothing can hurt us. We sway back and force to the rhythm of the tide …UNTIL A HOCKEY MASK WEARING PSYCHO LUNGES OUT OF THE WATER AND DRAGS US IN. Held under water, the only thing we can do is fade to black.

That blackness is replaces by static.

VOICE: “When the Blue Harvest happens, the world will become warped. When the Blue Harvest is witnessed, you will be traveling to other worlds. Worlds of Sights and Sounds. The day of the Blue Harvest will be the day that the dead will rise from their grave and drag 4CW into the new age with them.”

The static then fades out for good.

Sitting in an office behind a large desk, Perry Wallace sits with a few papers in front of him and a serious look on his face. There isn’t much sound in the office except for a low tone coming from the television hanging on the wall with a view of the entire arena. As always, a bottle of Scotch sits on the desk with a half empty glass beside it, not far from Perry’s reach. Grabbing the glass, Perry then leans back in his seat and kicks his feet onto the top of the desk and takes a sip.

WALLACE: “The night is still young and all hell is breaking loose already. Jason Cashe wants to go apeshit at the beginning of the show and now we have the fifth name in the Warzone of Horrors with Bronx winning the rumble earlier. Fright Night is just around the corner and this thing is shaping up to be one hell of a fucking show.”

Taking another drink from the glass, Perry finishes the last bit of Scotch up before pulling his feet down and leaning forward. Grabbing the bottle of Scotch, he goes to pour himself another round before being caught off guard by a sound at the door.

“Knock, knock”

Without being told to come in, the door opened, Cyrus Riddle walks into view standing at Perry’s desk.

WALLACE: “Oh look, it’s the reigning 4CW, I mean Boardwalk Wrestling Atlantic City Champion, Mr. Cyrus Riddle. How are you doing this evening, champ?”

Riddle smirks at Wallace’s statement, slightly amused.

RIDDLE: “Depends on what’s happening, mate. That whore of a talent you call Aidan Carlisle is breathing, but otherwise, I’m doing fairly well.”

Surprised by the statement, Perry giggles a bit before clearing his throat and turning his attention back to the bottle of Scotch in hand. After pouring himself a glass, he then looks back up at Riddle.

WALLACE: “She is and making quite a lot of new friends. Dakota set out to change her and that he did, maybe not the way he had planned but she has changed quite a bit. Where are my manners? I know you have a match coming up but would you care for a drink?”

Riddle shrugs.

RIDDLE: “Fuck it, why not? Might be just what I need.”

Grabbing an empty glass from across the table, Wallace places in front of him and slowly pours Riddle a drink. After topping it off, he then places the bottle back onto the desk before sliding the glass towards Riddle.

WALLACE: “She is acting rather differently since everything happened. It’s only normal, I suppose, I just feel for Liam.”

Riddle took a sip scotch from the glass and placed it on the desk, looking at Wallace with a raised eyebrow.

RIDDLE: “Liam? He’s weak. He needed to hold the leash instead of being the pet, and he was cast away. I’ve always admired Dakota’s work, but I may have hand a hand in this latest aspect of her life. I showed her what a real man does, now she’s trying to fill that void. It’s not everyday the Riddle Express comes along. Omerta created this, but we will also destroy it.”

WALLACE: “Everything dies, right?”

RIDDLE: “Yes, it does, and this time the death will be painful, slow, and definitely amazing. But I do want to know, how far can I go without running into legal trouble? You seem to have certain unnamed people running around pointing fingers.”

Riddle takes another sip from the glass, holding it in his hand and nodding in approval.

WALLACE: “Look it, I can control everything that happens inside of the building. What happens on the outside, I can’t control that. The fans come here to see violence, some call it wrestling but at the end of the day it’s nothing more than violence. You know what you signed up for when we looked over your contract. It’s no secret that this is a ruthless business. You do what you feel needs to be done. That’s really all I can say. If things go too far, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. People shouldn’t put themselves in situations where outcomes may not be to their liking.”

Taking a slow drink from his glass, Perry leans back in his chair and thinks about his last words for a moment. He then looks back up at Riddle before choosing his words wisely.

WALLACE: “You do as you see fit, I’ll deal with certain people around here threatening to open up cases against myself and the business practices of 4CW.”

A sinister grin came across Riddle’s face as he looked to the side, thinking for a moment before turning his attention back to Wallace.

RIDDLE: “Good to know. Just want to make sure that our agreements are still held up. I trust your word, you haven’t let me down thus far.”

Finishing off his glass of Scotch, Wallace stands up from his seat and extends his arm across the desk to Riddle.

WALLACE: “I told you, sign with 4CW and I would hold up my end of the deal. I am a man of my word, believe that.”

RIDDLE: ”I never doubted you for a minute. You have helped me greatly already.”

He gave Wallace a look of approval and appreciation.

WALLACE: “So where’s your partner, CJ? You two have a big match coming up at Fright Night.”

Riddle showed a sense of agitation.

RIDDLE: ”Wouldn’t know, don’t keep tabs on him. Given recent events, I really don’t care. If he shows up at Fright Night, then good, but if he doesn’t, I’ll show you what a singular tag champion really does.”

Bursting into laughter, Perry grabs the bottle of Scotch and pours himself another drink. After calming down a bit, he looks back up to Riddle with a smile on his face.

WALLACE: “Singular tag champion… we had one of those at one time but like you guys say, everything dies. I know you two have had quite a few run ins as of late. Even a blind squirrel finds a nut every once in a while. What can you do? Nothing really, the past is the past. All we can do is make sure not to repeat the same mistakes. I guess we’ll find out exactly where you two stand in three weeks at Fright Night.

Taking a sip from his glass, Wallace walks around the desk to get a clear view of Riddle from top to bottom. After scanning over him for a moment, a puzzled look comes over his face.

WALLACE: “Where’s the Atlantic City Championship?”

Riddle lifts up his shirt to reveal the Atlantic City Championship strapped around his waist.

RIDDLE: “I never go anywhere without it. Fought too bloody hard to leave it in a bag somewhere.”

With a smile on his face, Perry pats him on the back while looking down at the championship.

WALLACE: “Have you told Pettis the news yet? You know, how that championship is now the 4CW Atlantic City Championship?”

Riddle laughed and shook his head.

RIDDLE: ”No, not yet, I figured you have made that known enough already, mate. Shit is about to get interesting. I want to thank you, by the way, for the useful information that was given.”

WALLACE: ”I do what I can. Well champ, is there anything else I can help you with? You have a pretty big match coming up later on tonight, I don’t want to distract you.”

Riddle thinks for a moment, but shakes his head.

RIDDLE: ”I have a request in mind, but I’ll wait. Something tells me that now isn’t the time.”

He smirks as he drinks the rest of the scotch, placing the glass down gently and nodding. Riddle walks away slowly and exits the office. Taking a step back, Wallace thinks to himself before finishing his glass and grabbing his suit coat. After putting it on and brushing off a piece of lent, Wallace takes a deep breath before placing his hand on the door handle and slowly turning it as the scene fades out.


POWERS: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall, introducing first standing at five feet eight inches, and weighing in at one hundred and twenty four pounds she is WildKat KAT JONEEEESSSS”

Kat Jones comes out from the back standing at the entrance area glaring at the crowd.. She ignores everyone on her way to the ring. She walks slowly and methodically.. Removing the short leather jacket she wears to the ring slowly she whips it back and screams a blood curdling scream before she gets into the ring.

VASSA: ”And there is Kat Jones who will be making her Four Corner Wrestling debut tonight.

JOHNSON: “Four Corners has been growing steady. Kat Jones is just one of the many newest signees to join Four C W.”

VASSA: ”And for her debut she’s got one tough task in Aidan Carlise.”

JOHNSON: ”If Kat can win here tonight that would be huge for her.”

Two missile-like pink fireballs launch from above the ring toward the entrance, igniting the stage in a wall of pink flame. Aidan appears at the top of the ramp as the heavy metal chords of Disturbed’s “Immortalized” fill the theater. She stops to survey the crowd through the dimmed lights and hot pink strobes. She smirks like a predator from ear to ear as she soaks in the boos from the crowd, holding her arms out to either side, tilting her head back, letting the electric guitar get her revved up for the impending match.

“This is war time, this is our time

We won’t be denied, feed the fire that is raging inside

This is go time, this is showtime

We will fight ’til their wills are broken

This is game time, and insane time

Let the madness fly, show the strength that just can’t be defied

Find the power, to devour

Let the beast inside now be woken”

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring, residing in Atlantic City, New Jersey, weighing in at one hundred forty five pounds and standing five feet, eight inches tall. She is the Queen of Extreme, AIDAN CAAARLIIISLEEE!!!”

“In this world only the strong will survive

Hear the roar and you will know you’re alive

Feel the energy build in your soul

‘Cause it’s time”

As she strides down the aisle, she extends a middle finger in either direction in answer to the on-going boos of the crowd. Her smirk is firmly fixed on her lips as she ascends the stairs and ducks between the ropes.

“Oh, In the calm before the storm

Another legend will be born

Another battle will be won

We will rise

Oh, So heed the call of confrontation

Today we feed on domination

Secure a legacy that will never die

Be immortalized”

Aidan turns in a slow circle, taunting the crowd, gesturing for them to give her more.

JOHNSON: ”Looks like Ian Bishop from Boardwalk will be joining Aidan here tonight.”

VASSA: ”What’s with Aidan and these Boardwalk fellas?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know, but Kat Jones looks ready to go in there.”

VASSA: ”Let’s get this one started folks.”


The bell rings and Kat is the first one out of her corner as she wastes no time charging across the ring and looking for a Flying Knee that connects and sends Carlisle back into her corner. Kat grabs Carlisle by the arm and whips her across the ring before she bounces off the ring post and onto the mat as Kat Jones is starting this match off quickly.

Kat lifts Aidan back to her feet and chops her across the chest before grabbing her by the hair and whipping her across the ring. Kat stomps on Carlisle before bringing her back to her feet and hitting her with a stiff elbow. Kat wraps up behind Carlisle, Carlisle hitting Kat with an elbow of her own causing Kat to loosen up the grip before Aidan sweeps her off of her feet with a Leg Lariat.

Kat gets back to her feet quickly as both woman charge each other before both jumps in the air Crossbodying each other as they both crash down to the mat hard.

VASSA: ”That had some impact.”

Kat gets back to her feet as Aidan pulls herself up to hers by the ropes. Kat tries Superkicking Aidan over the ropes but Aidan ducks and grabs Kat by leg and forces her over the ropes before Aidan bounces off of a rope and looks for a Swanton from over the ropes that connects. She hops to her feet while Ian Bishop claps his hands.

JOHNSON: ”Whoa, Aidan getting vertical here tonight.”

VASSA: ”That Swanton was beautiful.”

Aidan pulls Kat back to her feet and slides her back on the ring before she climbs up the rope and taunts out to the crowd before leaping off with a Frogsplash but Kat rolls out of the way before getting to her feet. She mounts Aidan before striking down with some vicious blows before reeling back and putting Aidan in an Leg Lock.

Aidan spins causing Kat to loosen the lock as Aidan uses her free leg to push Kat off. She quickly scampers back to her feet as Kat does the same, both woman charging at each other before Aidan ducks in and hits Kat with a Spear before bouncing back to her feet.

Aidan grabs Kat by the leg and drags her to the center of the ring where she drops down on Kat with a knee drop followed by another. She steps up a turnbuckle and looks down at Kat, Kat jumping to her feet and running up the turnbuckle as her and Aidan begin laying blows into each other. Kat catching Aidan with one that almost sends her off the turnbuckle.

JOHNSON: ”Look at Ian looking all worried over there.”

VASSA: ”Kat almost sent her right over the ropes.”

JOHNSON: ”Oh look at this.”

Kat has Aidan wrapped under her arms as she reels back and plants her to the mat with a Suplex from the top rope as the crowd boos. Kat grabbing at her head as she slowly brings herself back to her feet. She walks over to Aidan and prounces down on her before going for the pin.


Aidan got to her feet on the ropes before the ref even begins the count. Kat growing angered and she slaps the mat before getting to her feet and yelling at the ref. She turns around and grabs Aidan by the throat before bringing Aidan to her feet. Kat whispers in Aidan’s ear. Kat peels back for a slap but Aidan ducks under it and knees Kat in the gut before connecting with a DDT.

Still feeling the impact from that Suplex from the top rope Aidan is slow back to her feet making her way over to Kat before bringing Kat back to her feet. Kat pushes Aidan into the ref causing the ref to stumble backward and hit his head on the turnbuckle. Kat eye rakes Aidan before she hits Aidan with the Katastrophe. The crowd booing as Kat taunts them.


JOHNSON: ”This could be it partner.”

Kat notices the ref is still down. She steps to him and begins shaking him making him regain consciousness. As he does Kat doesn’t see Aidan bouncing off of a rope and when Kat turns around Aidan gets her legs around Kat before flipping Kat over with the move she calls Rain Of Pain. The crowd beginning to cheer the roof off.

VASSA; ”OH…I wasn’t expecting that.”

JOHNSON: ”Aidan’s going for the pin.”









POWERS: “Here is your winner…Aidan Carlisle.”

Disturbed’s ‘Immortalized” begins playing as Ian Bishop slides in the ring to congratulate Aidan as he and the ref hold her hands up in the air.

VASSA: ”This match was back and forth throughout partner.”

JOHNSON: ”I thought Kat had it after that Katastrophe. She fought hard out there tonight against the former Pride Champion.”

VASSA: ”She can take allot from this match as she hung in there with one of the more better wrestlers in Four C W.”

JOHNSON: ”For sure. She should bounce back and get her first Four C W victory at Fright Night.”

STEVENSON: “It feels good, doesn’t it Bryan?”

The voice was all too familiar and that’s because it belongs to the man of the hour, the man who has completely changed who Bryan Williams is and that man is of course; Drew Stevenson – the man who some think of as a dictator but in all honesty – he does what has to be done in order to survive. Sitting in his dressing room, he wasn’t quite ready for his match yet as he was still sitting in his Armani suit which costs more than Williams makes in probably a year. With a smile running along his highly arrogant face, Stevenson clasps his hands together while continuing to speak knowing that everybody is watching him closely.

STEVENSON: “For once in your life, you can finally say that it feels good to show the world who you really are.”

That arrogant grin never leaves his face, almost like the Grinch who tried to steal Christmas.

STEVENSON: “Today marks a very important day in your life Bryan and that’s because it’s the day where you finally took off that faceless mask. Now I will admit, I was surprised when I saw you take to Twitter in such a violent manner compared to how you normally are but all it took was a little…”

Separating his hands, Stevenson acts like he is going to push something away from him which really gets his point across.

STEVENSON: “… Push and your true colors came flying out like a box of crayons. Now wouldn’t you agree that not very many people really liked the real Bryan Williams? Yeah, we both know that it’s true and truth be told Williams – that’s because you can’t take your eyes off of your partner. Oh yeah, you see Bryan – you lie in bed with woman after woman each and every night but the fact of the matter is; you want nothing more than to be the man who lies next to Aidan but as Trent Reznor sung about many years ago…”

Leaning forward to get much closer to the camera, his dark brown eyes were fixated on to it as if he was speaking directly to Bryan.

STEVENSON: “… You just want something that you can never have!”

Upon saying that with such conviction, Stevenson means every word that comes out of his mouth – even if it means hurting Williams in the process.

STEVENSON: “It bothers you, doesn’t it Williams? To know that the world doesn’t revolve around you, to know that you were put against the man who knew all of your dirty little secrets. You have always been that guy who simply fits in wherever he goes, sweeping all of his dirty secrets under the rug for nobody to see but you weren’t able to get that kind of solace with me and do you know why that is Bryan? Because from the very moment that you decided to come back into MY business? I knew that you had become nothing more than a fake and that was why I decided to expose you in front of the world.”

With his demeanor having grown in intensity and anger, he separated his hands and pointed at the camera with his index finger on his right hand while continuing to speak; not missing a single beat.

STEVENSON: “Speaking of exposing you Bryan – let’s talk about how you call yourself the Architect. Now I have never gotten along with Manning and I will go as far to say that I think that Bryce may be one of the douchiest guys that I have ever worked with in this business but unlike you Bryan, I give credit where it’s due and that moniker belongs to him and you damn well know it. You see, whether I want to admit it or not, Bryce actually built something in this business. He actually took a promotion on his back and build it, something that I can’t say about you. So since you like to sweep all of your dirty little secrets to where nobody can see them, I figured that I would expose that one because hey; we are wearing no more masks – everything is out there in the open for everybody to see.”

Stretching his arms out at his sides, his hands were opened up to embrace whatever kind of hate that was thrown his way.

STEVENSON: “And now since everything is out in the open? The world is about to watch Bryan Williams crash and burn and there’s absolutely nothing that you can do to change the outcome of what is going to happen.”

Smiling once again, Stevenson holds out his right hand which is open and the palm is facing up towards the ceiling as he continues to speak.

STEVENSON: “Since the very moment that you decided to step into my territory Williams, I held your fate in the palm of my hand and I still do. I have the ability to set you free, but what you fail to realize is that I also have the ability to…”

Clinching a very tight fist, the point that he was making was that he could crush Williams as well. With his smile completely fading, he keeps his once opened hand clinched as tight as he can to really get his point across.

STEVENSON: “… To crush every hope and dream that you had planned in this company. When you really think about it, the choice is yours Bryan and we both know the right choice, don’t we?”

Nodding his head up and down, he was speaking very cryptically but he knows that Williams understands exactly what he is talking about. After all of that is said and done, Stevenson leans forward and places his large hand in front of the lens of the camera as everything goes to black momentarily.

Cameras shifted backstage and saw the 4CW Champion, Felicity Banks, standing outside her locker room leaning her back against the wall. She was already in her ring gear and was staring blankly at the bare white wall in front of her face, looking as if she didn’t even notice the camera crew approaching her.

BANKS: ”Ever feel like the whole world was against you?”

She obviously noticed the camera crew, speaking up right when they were just a few feet away.

BANKS: ”Well, scratch that. It’s not even the whole world. Truth be told, most of the world is more than likely on my side, but it seems like…”

She paused momentarily, thinking up the right words to say.

BANKS: ”Seems like no matter what I do and no matter what I say, one country in that world is constantly finding ways to go against me. Constantly finding ways to fault me when I’ve done everything that I’ve been asked to do and then some, but still… to some, that’s not enough.”

She shook her head in disgust, letting out an exasperated sigh.

BANKS: ”I knew a long time ago that there was no chance in hell that I’d please everyone. No chance in hell that I’d make everyone in this country called 4CW support me, but… you know, by now, I thought I’d have at least SOME support… and I don’t.”

Another sigh escaped her lips.

BANKS: ”I don’t know why that is either. Is it because I made a name for myself elsewhere? Is it because I prefer engaging in small talk with people from other companies instead of this one? Is it because I’ve climbed the ladder here in such a short time that people feel a sense of resentment towards me? I honestly don’t know, but whatever it is… it’s frustrating as all hell.”

Glancing down at her 4CW Championship strapped around her waist, Felicity let out a sigh and looked up at the ceiling above her head, never making eye contact with the camera.

BANKS: ”My little spat with Jason Cashe on Twitter yesterday made me realize something, though. I realized that if Cashe – someone who always seemed like my biggest supporter in this company – was going to say those things about me being the least impactful and unseen champion in this company then other people must think the same thing. I don’t know if it ranges from the top and goes all the way to the bottom, but it’s pretty fucking annoying considering the fact that I’ve seriously done more for 4CW in the six or so months that I’ve been here than some have in their year and some change tenure with the company. But, I guess it is what it is…”

Unstrapping her title, Felicity finally gazed over at the camera and bit down on her bottom lip.

BANKS: ”There’s really nothing more that I can do or say to prove to everyone in the locker room that I am 4CW just as much as I am my other employers. But, from the sounds of it… that won’t be accepted until I either leave those other companies or publicly shit on them verbally and neither one of those things are going to happen. I’m proud of where I built my brand. I’m proud of being a known and respected commodity in Japan. And, most importantly, I’m proud to be 4CW Champion. I’m not one of those types who tries to verbally bury where they come from when they find another home. I’m not one of those people who will say and do anything to garner whatever reaction they can get in hopes that it’ll get people to talk. People talk about me enough, and honestly? I hate the fame that comes with this business. I hate the rumors and the gossip and the Days of Our Lives bullshit you see on every show that features the same monotonous people each and every Adrenaline. I don’t care about kidnappings or love lives or who’s banging who. I don’t want that type of attention. I don’t NEED that type of attention. The only attention that I want is for my wrestling ability. My ability to verbally slay you before a match, and my ability to sell the actual fucking show instead of just myself. But that just hasn’t worked, has it?”

She shook her head and pulled the 4CW Championship up, flashing it to the camera.

BANKS: ”And I thought with this, that’s the attention that I’d get. I thought that’s the attention the fans and everyone in the locker room cared about – but…nope. Apparently I’m not seen enough on these shows even though I’m on every single one of them in some form or fashion. Apparently I haven’t made an impact at all while I was waiting to find out just who the hell was going to be locked inside the Warzone of Horrors with me. Apparently I haven’t been wrestling my ass off each and every show, proving that I’m the best pound for pound talent in this company and out of it – but that just isn’t enough… and you know what?”

A somewhat maniacal grin formed on her features.

BANKS: ”I do not give a single, solitary fuck anymore. I’m tired of it all! I’m sick of nicknames. I’m sick of turning the other cheek and being the bigger person. I’m sick of trying to turn doubters into believers, and I’m sick of busting my ass for no reason since it all gets tossed to the side anyway. It makes me sick to my fucking stomach that most of you peasants backstage are so jealous of me that you’ll literally say and do ANYTHING to try and knock me off my pedestal. By now, one would think you idiots would’ve realized that nothing you say or do phases me, but now? Now it has phased me. Now you’ve officially woken up something that I TRIED to keep asleep. You’ve woken up someone who DOES NOT CARE about being the best wrestler or putting on a show for all the screaming fans out there.”

Another smirk from the champ.

BANKS: ”You’ve awoken the cold hearted bitch that I tried to keep you peasants safe from, but… you just had to keep pushing and pushing and pushing, didn’t you? You had to try and get under my skin in every which way possible so congratulations, peasants. You finally did it! HOOOORAH! You have found success in being the most petulant and annoying group of wrestlers that I’ve ever seen this side of America! Bravo, bravo!”

Moving the 4CW Championship to her shoulder, Felicity slid her fingers through her hair and looked down at the ground before speaking.

BANKS: ”You think I was bad before? You think my mouth ran a mile a minute all this time? You think my words STUNG? Heh… you haven’t seen ANYTHING yet. Nicknames, Queens, locker room leaders, being the best wrestler – none of that shit matters anymore. From this point on, the only OPINION that matters to ME from ANYONE backstage is the one of bossdude’s since, realistically, his opinion is really the only one that’s relevant. And the only THINGS that matter are me keeping this title right where it belongs, and me beating every single one of you sorry sacks of garbage within an inch of your lives! Tonight… tonight will be the first example of the major fuck up you peasants made. And by the time Fright Night ends?”

She took a step forward, glaring right into the camera.

BANKS: ”You’ll realize that all of you made the biggest mistake ever by pissing me off and bringing out what I tried to keep you away from. You’ll realize that the Felicity Banks that dominated 4CW for the last half a year was TAME compared to what’s coming. Adrenaline thirty-two will be the first example of exactly that. Watch and learn…”

She winked.

BANKS: ”…the master is about to go to work.”

With that, the 4CW Champion shoved the cameraman out of her way and slowly paced down the hallway. The camera panned back around to Felicity as she walked down the hallway, holding the 4CW Championship in her right hand and letting the bottom of the strap slide across the floor with every step she took.


The lights go out in the arena and a spotlight shines upon the entrance curtain as the guitars of “Anarchy in the U.K.” begin to play.

“Right Now (laughing)”

Cyrus Riddle smoothly emerges from behind the curtain with his sunglasses affixed to his face, as well as donning a snarky grin as he raises his middle and index fingers to the crowd. He begins to walk to the ring with a swagger in his step and a cocky expression of confidence.

“I am an anti-Christ

I am an anarchist,

Don’t know what I want

But I know how to get it

I want to destroy the passerby

‘Cause I want to be anarchy!”

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring from London, England and weighing in at two hundred twenty eight pounds, he is “The Archetype”, “The Epitome of Excellence”… Cyrus Riddle!”

Riddle gets to the ring and rolls under the bottom rope, standing to his feet with impressive quickness, then goes to the corner turnbuckle, standing on the middle and mouthing off to the crowd and holding his arms out to be embraced.

“Anarchy for the U.K.

It’s coming sometime and maybe

I give a wrong time, stop a traffic line.

Your future dream is a shopping scheme

‘Cause I want to be anarchy”

After jumping down off of the middle turnbuckle, Cyrus removes his sunglasses and jacket, sitting them on the ring post as he leans against the ring ropes, preparing himself for the match to begin.

JOHNSON: ”Up next we have the 4CW singles debut of Cyrus Riddle!”

VASSA: ”We’ve seen him in action over the last two Adrenaline’s, winning in three overall tag team matches. So far I have to admit, I’m impressed and just may have that so called “Riddle Fever”.”

JOHNSON: ”In his debut four weeks ago he and CJ O’Donnell competed in the first and second rounds of the tag championship tournament. After scoring two wins in the same night, they will be competing together once more in three weeks at Fright Night for the grand prize, cold hard cash and the 4CW Tag Team Championships.”

VASSA: ”Before we look too far ahead, he has a big match up here tonight with another wrestler who has set 4CW on fire since signing. Not to mention, he’s coming off a HUGE title defense in Boardwalk Wrestling at their recent iPPV, Dead Man’s Hand.”

JOHNSON: ”Cyrus and Ian Bishop who we saw two weeks ago went toe to toe in a last man standing match that could very well be the biggest match in the history of Boardwalk Wrestling. In the end, Cyrus was able to retain his Atlantic City Championship,”

VASSA: ”You mean the newly acquired 4CW Atlantic City Championship I keep hearing about?”

JOHNSON: ”No, the Boardwalk Wrestling Atlantic City Championship, their grandest prize of all.”

VASSA: ”Be sure to tell Perry that because I don’t think you’ve gotten the memo. He’s going around calling it the 4CW Atlantic City Championship now that Cyrus is signed with 4CW as well.”

JOHNSON: ”He can’t do that. Don’t believe everything you hear, Vinny, even if it comes from the bosses mouth. There’s no way possible 4CW could claim that championship for itself.”

VASSA: ”I don’t think Perry cares to be honest.”

The venue’s lights cut out, causing the entire building to go dark. Static feedback screeches over the P.A. system, forcing the fans in the audience to cover their ears. The video screen near the entrance way lights up with a white snowy picture, barely illuminating the entrance ramp. A black handprint slowly fades into the picture with a red anarchy symbol carved into the palm of the handprint. The crowd jumps to their feet as the static feedback is replaced by the opening chorus to Bullet For My Valentine’s single You Want a Battle? (Here’s A War).

“We will not take this anymore

These words will never be ignored

You want a battle


A sole spotlight focuses on the curtain for the entranceway as Chris Madison steps out. His head is tucked down and covered by a black towel, focusing on the ground beneath him. The crowd roars in anticipation as Madison stands as still as a statue. He finally brings his fists up towards his face and punches himself on the jaw with both hands before ripping the towel from his head and spiking it down to the ground.

POWERS: ”And the opponent, coming to the ring from Long Island, New York, weighing in at two hundred twenty pounds, “Mayhem”… Chris Madison!”

Madison charges to the ring and slides in under the bottom rope before hoping up to his feet. He walks towards the nearest ropes corner and climbs up to the second rope, surveying the live crowd before holding his arms out horizontally.

VASSA: ”The Madman himself, the bringer of Mayhem to everything that he touches, Chris Madison is in the house!”

JOHNSON: ”Boy does he look ready as ever! Chris has been on the warpath ever since signing the dotted line with 4CW. With Frankie Morrison stepping down from management within the company, those two together can really turn this company around on the ground floor.”

VASSA: ”I never really understood why Frankie stepped down. I’m sure Perry would have given him a huge bonus for bringing Chris to 4CW. I don’t really know…”

JOHNSON: ”With Frankie Morrison stepping down from management within 4CW, there’s no chance of anyone claiming his client, Chris, was handed anything in this company. Frankie has done a lot in this business and he was here when Mr. Wallace needed him to get things up and rolling. I guess his time had just passed and he sought out for other business opportunities.”

VASSA: ”And damn do we need him more than ever now. Oh well! I’m just glad he’s still involved with 4CW in some capacity. Chris Madison is a huge addition to the deep pool of talent we have and Frankie is one to thank.”

JOHNSON: ”We mentioned moments ago what Cyrus had in store for Fright Night, well, Chris has plans as well. He and Lord Raab will be climbing into the cage and competing in a Lion’s Den Match.”

VASSA: ”MMA… I had to do a little research over the last two weeks to get a better understanding of this match. At least I believe it’s an MMA style match.”

JOHNSON: ”Something like that.”

VASSA: ”Chris and Lord Raab have been at each others throats for the last few months, ever since Ante Up was it? This match has the build. I just hope these two can take it even further and make this a match that will forever go down in the history books.”

VASSA: ”I’m sure they will, Vinny. Well folks, it appears that our official is ready to get things underway. I hope you all are ready for a bumpy ride because this match has the potential to blow the roof off of the Conte Forum.”

Standing in the center of the ring, the official looks to Riddle in the corner and receives the not without hesitation. Turning to the opposite side of the ring, Madison gives him the slow nod, keeping his eyes latched onto Riddle across the ring. He then throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell, officially starting the match.


Bouncing back and forth in the corners to stay loose, both men then approach the center of the ring until toe to toe, eye to eye and ready for battle. After a long dead stare between the two, Riddle extends his hand towards Madison. Looking down at it for a moment, Madison then extends his and the two shake as the crowd bursts with cheers of approval.

JOHNSON: ”Talk about respect. These two have been the talk of the week leading into this match and from the start, the respect is obvious between them both.”

VASSA: ”We don’t really see this that often. These two have shown respect over the weeks when talking about the other and seeing this here tonight just proves that these men are what this sport thrives on.”

The two then take a step back from one another before getting into their stances, looking each other up and down, ready to set the night on fire. Locking up in the center of the ring, the two battle it out with a test of strength. Taking lead, Riddle begins to slowly overpower Madison while bending him back and forcing him to slowly back peddle. After moving a few feet backwards, Madison then plants his back foot and pushes forward, quickly overtaking Riddle and backing him towards the center of the ring.

Once in the center, Riddle plants his back foot and pushes back, struggling to overpower Madison who has the leverage on him. Riddle being to nudge him back slightly and after taking notice, Madison then drives his knee upward into Riddle’s stomach. After having the breath knocked out of him, Riddle lunges over and as he does, Madison applies a side headlock, squeezing his head tightly against his body. With Madison cranking down on the pressure, Riddle then plants his hand into Madison’s back before pushing him away, breaking the hold and sending him running towards the ropes.

With Madison coming back on the rebound, Riddle stands his ground only to get put on his back with a running shoulder block. Rolling over to his stomach, Riddle quickly pushes himself up and then points for Madison to take to the ropes and repeat. Shrugging his shoulders, Madison then turns to the ropes and takes off and after rebounding, this time with even more momentum, he comes back and puts Riddle on his back harder than before. Rolling back to his stomach and smacking the mat with an open hand, Riddle then pushes himself back up and points for Madison to give it one more try. Not wasting anytime, Madison races to the ropes and after coming back once more, Riddle side steps out of the way and drops him face first to the canvas with a drop toe hold.

VASSA: ”Well played Mr. Riddle!”

JOHNSON: ”Cyrus caught Madison off guard with that drop toe hold. I didn’t even see it coming. I assumed Riddle was just going to prove that he can stand his ground.”

VASSA: ”I think he stood his ground just fine.”

Before Madison can get back to his feet, Riddle quickly closes in with a kick to the side of the ribs, knocking him back to his stomach. Riddle then grabs Madison by the leg with both hands and jumps into the air with a variation of a hand stand before coming back down and driving his knee into the back of Madison’s. Jumping back up, he drops another knee and then once more with a final blow to Madison’s knee. Standing back up, he then walks to Madison’s head and reaches down, grabbing onto it with both hands. Pulling Madison up to his feet, Riddle then steps in beside him before dropping him in an instant with a Russian leg sweep.

JOHNSON: ”Cyrus is going straight to work on Madison with the lower leg attacks followed up with that Russian leg sweep.”

VASSA: ”Both of these men are machines from what I have seen. If they’re going to take the other one down then they’re going to have to be methodical and work certain areas until they are unable to withstand anymore.”

Back to his feet, Riddle pulls Madison up from the canvas and then throws him to the corner behind him. After watching Madison collide with the corner, Riddle then takes off and charges towards with relentlessly. Closing in, Riddle nearly takes off Madison’s head with a running clothesline, forcing Madison’s feet to lift up from the mat due to the impact. After Madison’s feet touch back down, Riddle then takes a few steps back before jumping into the air and hitting Madison in the chops with a standing dropkick.

VASSA: ”Cyrus isn’t giving Chris any time to react with this full blown assault.”

JOHNSON: ”Although he appears to be a little banged up from his most recent match in Boardwalk Wrestling, you wouldn’t even think he was feeling any after effects by the way he’s moving in the ring now.”

With Madison down in a seated position with his back against the corner, Riddle slowly closes in and grabs him underneath the arms. Standing him up, Riddle then leans him against the corner. Drawing back with his right hand, he leaves himself open as Madison quickly reacts with a quick punch to the heart. Stumbling back a couple of steps, Cyrus quickly grabs his chest as the pain begins to sink it. Erupting out of the corner, Madison then kicks him in the side of the knee with a powerful right foot, forcing it to slightly give out from underneath him. Kicking his left foot up, Madison connects with another to the opposite knee, doing the same. Still up with his legs barely able to keep him standing, Madison then backs up to the corner and stands on the bottom ropes. He then jumps away from the corner and connects with a flying knee to Riddle’s chin, lifting him up into the air and knocking him across the ring before crashing onto his back.

JOHNSON: ”Chris Madison has turned things around in the blink of an eye!”

VASSA: ”He’s a seasoned veteran in the ring and when given the opportunity, he will take advantage and strike. Cyrus just had to learn that the hard way.”

With Riddle on his back, Madison quickly rushes in before he can even begin to get back up. He then goes on the attack with furious knee strikes to Riddle’s ribcage, pounding it over and over in the same spot with rage. After pounding him like a piece of meat, Madison then grabs ahold of him and slowly pulls him up to his feet. Positioning himself beside him, Madison gets him in position, lifting him up and driving him back into the canvas with a pump-handle slam.

Refusing to stay down, Cyrus begins to push himself up as Madison stands over him once more. Madison then assists him the rest of the way to his feet before pulling locking onto his wrist and whipping him to the ropes across the ring. Patiently waiting for him to come back from the rebound, Madison lifts him up into the air, rotates one hundred eighty degrees and then drops him onto the canvas with a sit-out spinebuster. With the pain overtaking Riddle’s body, Madison then makes the cover as the ref sweeps in for the count.





JOHNSON: ”Cyrus isn’t going down that easy!”

VASSA: ”He’s been through a lot over the last few weeks but Chris is going to need to inflict more damage if he’s going to finish him off once and for all in the ring tonight.”

A little shocked at the kickout considering the condition Cyrus is in, Madison quickly puts it behind him before climbing back to his feet. Grabbing ahold of Riddle’s arm, he then pulls him up and turns him around, positioning himself behind him. Wrapping his arms around Riddle’s waist and locking his hands, Madison then lifts him up into the air and drives him into the mat with a German suplex. With his hands still locked, Madison rolls over with Cyrus in his clutches and climbs back to his feet, pulling him up as well. Lifting him up again, Madison plants him into the mat with another German suplex, this one harder than the one before. Still, with his hands locked and arms around Riddle, Madison slowly works his way back to his feet, pulling Riddle up yet again. Holding him in place for a brief moment, Madison then picks him up from his feet and drops him to the mat with tremendous power, executing a third German suplex.

JOHNSON: ”Chris is showing off his skills in the ring with that rolling German suplex combination.”

VASSA: ”That’s a hard combo to pull off, not everyone can do it. But Chris made that shit look good!”

JOHNSON: ”Hold on, is he going for a fourth?”

With Riddle still in his clutches, Madison slowly begins to climb back to his feet, dragging Riddle along with him. Once standing, Madison takes a few short moments to catch a breather before squeezing tightly and lifting Riddle up again. With Riddle over his head, Madison’s grip slips and seeing an opportunity, Riddle rolls out of the move and down to his feet, leaving Madison empty handed as he falls to the mat.

VASSA: ”Cyrus escapes!”

JOHNSON: ”How did he do that?!”

VASSA: ”I don’t know but things might be changing if he can take advantage.”

Barely able to stand on his feet, Cyrus stumbles backwards until hitting the ropes and catching himself. Using the ropes to his advantage, Riddle holds himself up and catches his breath for the short time permitted as Madison slowly begins to get back to his feet. With Madison’s back to him, Riddle quickly charges in and grabs ahold of his shoulder, spinning him around. Once facing him, Riddle catches him off guard with a nasty European uppercut that shoots his head straight back and spit flying from his mouth into the air. Riddle then reaches across with his other hand and grabs his head, pulling it back down only to deliver another gruesome European uppercut. With Madison off balance, Riddle then pulls his head in one last time and knocks him down to the mat with a third European uppercut.

JOHNSON: ”Chris Madison goes down after a vicious combination of European uppercuts by the hands of Cyrus Riddle!”

VASSA: ”Madison didn’t see those coming and is paying the price now after having his bell rung over and over and over before being laid out in the center of the ring.”

With Madison on his back, Riddle then grabs ahold of his foot and raises it into the air. Holding it to the side and spreading Madison’s legs apart, Riddle then kicks the back of his knee. He then drops down to one knee while driving the other into the same spot, forcing Madison to release a howling grunt upon impact. With Madison’s foot still in hand, Riddle then jumps forward and flips over Madison’s body, pulling his leg with him and bending the man in half before releasing and landing onto the mat. Rolling over to his side, Madison holds his leg, showing signs of pain with the expression on his face. Slow to his feet, Riddle then grabs him by the head and rolls him over to his stomach before pulling him up to his feet. Locking his arm around Madison’s head, Riddle then hooks his leg and flips him up and over to his back with a fisherman’s suplex bridged into a pin.

JOHNSON: ”London Bridge!”

VASSA: ”Falling down! Falling down! Falling down!”

With the bridged pin in place, the ref quickly races from across the ring and sweeps in for the count.







VASSA: ”Madison kicks out!”

JOHNSON: ”Kickout!”

Leaning forward into a seated position with his arms resting on top of his knees, Riddle shakes his head in disbelief at the kickout by Madison. Shaking his head in dissatisfaction, he then pushes himself up to his feet and slowly paces around Madison while still down, stalking him and looking for the next opportunity to strike. Grabbing his head with both hands, Riddle rolls him up to his feet and then holds him in place with one while drawing back with the other. Swinging forward, Riddle connects with a stiff right hand to the top of the head, knocking Madison back a few steps.

Riddle then locks onto Madison’s wrist and pulls him in while stepping out of the way and whipping him to the far ropes only to get caught by surprise when Madison reverses the throw and sends him running towards them instead. Quickly shaking off the cobwebs, Madison prepares himself as Riddle hits the ropes and comes back on the rebound. As he closes in, Madison then squats slightly and plants both hands into Riddle’s torso before springing his legs upward and tossing Riddle straight into the air. With Riddle reaching his peak and falling back down, Madison then leaps into the air and grabs him by the back of the head with both hands. Falling back to the canvas, Madison pulls Riddle along with him and drives his knees into his chest curled against his body as the mat stops their fall.

JOHNSON: ”Madison hits Cyrus with the Chaos Theory!”

VASSA: ”Holy hell that was out of nowhere!”

JOHNSON: ”Can this match get anymore exciting?!”

Bouncing off of Madison’s knees, Riddle flips over to his back as he crashes onto the canvas. Lying beside him, Madison looks up at the ceiling for a few short moments, catching his breath before rolling over and crawling on top of him. After hooking the leg, the ref rushes in for the count as everyone in the entire arena locks their eyes onto the ring.








VASSA: ”Chris Madison wins it! He’s beaten Cyrus Riddle!”

JOHNSON: ”That was unbelievable! Chris turned nothing into something and capitalized to finish the match!”

“You Want A Battle? (Here’s A War)” hits the speakers as the crowd erupts into cheers with the outcome of the match. Slowly standing to his feet, Madison looks over the crowd for a brief moment before the ref steps in beside him and raises his arm into the air.


POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall, “Mayhem”, CHRIS MMAADDIISSOONN”

VASSA: ”Wow, that’s all I can really say about this match. These two came out here tonight and took each other to their limits. This could very well end up being the match of the night, the show stealer!”

JOHNSON: ”There’s no denying that, Vinny. We knew this was going to be a great match up between these two but this ended up being more than I could have ever imagined.”

VASSA: ”I could watch these two go at it at every single show following tonight and I bet they both would still set it off each and every time.”

JOHNSON: ”This match could have went either way and both men proved that in the ring tonight. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see these two in action against each other again in the future. This was epic!”

VASSA: ”Just imagine what these two could do knowing a little more about one another. I’m going to go ahead and start campaigning for a Madison-Riddle two following Fright Night.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m right there with you! Sit tight folks as we get things cleared up here at ringside. We’re going to go backstage momentarily. We’ll be right back!”

A young man, aged around 22 or 23, with almost incandescent blue eyes, long dirty blonde hair sitting in a bun atop his skull, a physique, partially visible beneath the cover of his black wife-beater, that appears to carry less fat than the Surgeon General could possibly recommend as healthy during Autumn, walks down a hallway of The Conte Forum in Boston, in his relatively faded blue jeans and black work boots. Despite his very aesthetically pleasing, not to mention physically intimidating, appearance the young man moves about with an air of slight trepidation. Wide-eyed and very shifty as he walks, stopping to examine every door label, he feels as though he should, perhaps, ask for directions to the main office, the destination of which he was in pursuit.

The last time he walked into a potential new job and asked for directions to the main office, “The Distorted Angel” Amber Ryan, known to this man as most likely a “smokin’ hot bartender or waitress or casino whore,” at the time, punched him in directly in the nose, drawing more blood than the young man would ever dream a woman would be able to accomplish. Considering that fact, and the fact that he kinda fell in love with her, and that she kinda just bailed on him and headed for A.C., he decided that directions, especially from the gorgeous women ahead, all eyeing him as if he had a phallic diamond in his pants.

It turned out, directions would not be necessary anyway, as just ten yards ahead of him, he saw an office door open, with a smiling, suited man exiting. Upon the door’s closure, the suited man mumbled, “bullshit,” with full contextual body language to accentuate his outbursts. That had to be, “the man’s” office, for the evening. That had to be where he could find Perry. Following three very drawn out deep breaths, the young man balled his fist and threw three hammers into the door.

WALLACE: “I swear to God, Pruitt, if you ask me one more fucking time, we are never fucking coming back to the Conte Forum. I don’t care what kinda sweet ass connections you have, that typically make me enjoy Boston exponentially more than before I had met you. You’re being a really fucking annoying business associate. Fuck off.”

A youthful smile came across the young man’s face, as he immediately recognized the voice and the verbiage from just a couple of days ago.

YOUNG MAN: “Uh, no, sir, that guy’s gone. It’s a different…guy. Or…well, whatever, yeah, guy.”

His piercing blue eyes widened, as he looked at the rafters and cursed to himself, mouthing the words, “fucking idiot,” in reference to himself.

WALLACE: “Do I fuckin’ know you? You ain’t with one of those assholes out there doin’ a Make-A-Wish fuckin’ video, expecting me to smile and spend time with some fucked up kid, are you? ‘Cause, I fuckin’ told them, I am not up for that shit, tonight.”

Laughing to himself and grinning widely, the young man shakes his head, a bit of tension relieved from his shoulders.

YOUNG MAN: “I might be half-retarded, sir, but I am clean. I just wanted to say hello, tell you I showed up like you asked.”

With that, the door swings open with velocity, as Perry Wallace stares out at this kid with a furrowed brow and a set jaw, which only breaks momentarily, so that he could take a gulp from his scotch, held loosely in his right hand.

WALLACE: “What the fuck are you talking about? I’ve never seen you before in my life, hombre.”

Perry flicks his left hand toward his would-be guest, and the door begins to careen back toward its threshold, slamming into the kid’s face, particularly his nose, which immediately produces several droplets of blood on the cement below.


The door had bounced back and forced Perry to alter his stance, which caused his scotch to spill a bit on the floor.

WALLACE: “You’ve got pretty impressive cursing skills. I’ll give you that. To be honest, when I saw you just now, five seconds ago, I thought you were fruity- but that many fucks in a row would be asymmetrical or some shit. Not that I don’t love fairies, they make up a huge part of our fan base.”

Staring up at 4CW’s owner from his crouched position, the first-impressionally cursed mystery man speaks up, again.

YOUNG MAN:“You signed me, to a contract, last fuckin’ weekend, man. In Atlantic City.”

Perry laughed, and pursed his lips for a moment, after taking another sip of scotch.

WALLACE: “Bullshit, I was in Atlantic City, but I wasn’t there on any god damn business, I was there getting’ CRUNK with my boys.”

“Crunk” called for Perry move his hips to the right, as he threw two fingers in the air.

YOUNG MAN: “I was there. I know. You signed me. You kept telling me you, ‘were NOT blacked the fuck out.’ You…ehh…I didn’t think you were gonna remember. Watch this video.”

Perry cautiously inches forward and receives the phone, looking at it both indignantly and inquisitively.

WALLACE: “Come in. Don’t get any of your bloodshed on my shit, either.”

Even with his head titled upward and his hands covering his nose and mouth, a clenched jaw appears out of frustration. Cocking his head to the left, darting his eyes down the hallway in disbelief, the young man rises to his feet. He slowly walks into the room, door shutting behind him, and peers over at his believed new employer, who drinks from his scotch once every couple of seconds, nervously, as he watches the video unfold. Audio of reckless decisions in Atlantic City permeate the air.

WALLACE: “No, I’m not blacked out. I haven’t blacked out in my life! I’m just kidding, I black out ALL the fuckin’ time! You don’t need that phone, you son of a bitch, I’m a man of my fuckin’ word! I said you couldn’t get that dollar straight in the V-hole, and you fuckin’ NAILED it, one of the coolest things I seen in at least three days. Like I said, why the fuck wouldn’t I sign you to wrestle for me? Shit…actually, that camera is a good fuckin’ idea, cause I’m a lying piece of shit when I’m FUCKED UUUUUP! Ha-ha-ha-ha here, I’ll write it…I’ll write it right on…I’ll write…I’m fucked up, man, you write it. I’m not blacked out, though, I’ll remember this. This is one of the best night’s of my life, I’ll remember this shit.”

“Yeah, Four Corners Wrestling, yup…shit…that’s a hot little bitch. Wonder if she wants another kid, cause I’m feelin’ fertile as FUCK, right now. Yup. You litigious motherfucker, you don’t look smart! God damn, I don’t even know what that word means! Here, you ready? You ready for Big Papa P- and don’t you ever call me that, you little piece of shit. Ha-HAAA I’m just kiddin’ you buddy, I love ya,, you’re a fuckin good kid, and I take care of the good fuckin’ kids! Mothafuckin’ SANTA CLAUS in this bitch! Here that, baby?! SANTA CLAUS! Come here, baby, put your ass on my shoulder and face. Give me that pen kid, and guide my hand. The…yep, BOOM, signed by Perry mothafuckin’ Wallace himself!!! I’m gonna sign this ass, too, baby. And….BOOM, Perry mothafuckin’ Wallace himself, signed stripper’s asses to MAKE. SHIT. LEGAL. Legally BINDING, motherfucker, how you feel about THAT?!?”

Perry dumps the rest of the scotch down his throat and immediately pours himself another one. Face a little flushed and snarling a bit, he continues to keep his eyes locked on the camera.

WALLACE: “You, you, fuckin…you little asshole, you gotta do me a favor, kid. You’re a good looking guy. If I were gay, I’d still fuck women, but I’d also think you were gay too, because of how fuckin pretty you are, you fucker. Gotta do me a favor…when those girls start being bitches, in the locker room…when they’re bitches, you fuck em. You fuck em…with your dick, you fuck them til they’re not being bitches no more. That’s your only job. Wrestle if you fuckin’ feel like it, I don’t give a fuck, I just hate when bitches start whining and complaining, ‘oh, Perry, I’m pregnant, I can’t do what I’m contractually obligated to do,’ FUCK that! What the fuck is your name again, kid?”

YOUNG MAN: “Boston. So, just fuck bitches that may or may not be pregnant. That’s, uh…yeah, I’ll, take that and do, just…what I can with it.”

Laughing out loud, Perry shakes his head and tosses the phone back to Boston.

WALLACE: “That was a fun fuckin’ night. Can’t believe that stripper let me sign my name on her ass. Fuck it. Why the fuck not? You’re a good lookin’ motherfucker, I’ll bet bitches line up around the block to see you. Did we discuss salar- did I sign any fuckin’ thing that touched on salary?”

Boston shook his head, alternating between touching his nose and checking his fingers for blood.

BOSTON: “You bet me a contract with 4CW that I couldn’t do what I did. That’s it. That’s all I wrote down on the contract. I was buzzed up, too.”

Perry’s shoulders relax, as he visibly relents a bit.

WALLACE: “Thank fuckin’ god. Company minimum. I do like that you had the balls to follow through with this, though. I’m not fuckin’ kidding about how you better not suck, though. What’s your name, again?”

BOSTON: “Boston.”

Wallace: “Don’t make me look fuckin’ stupid, Boston. Also, I would like to point out that that’s a stupid fuckin’ name. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some big boy work to do. Your nose is still bleeding?! You better not be a bitch, I swear to god.”

BOSTON: “Not a bitch, Mr. Wallace. Promise. Thanks for meeting with me. Any reason you wanted me in Boston, tonight?”

WALLACE: “If you ask another stupid fuckin’ question like that, I’ll suspend you for at least a month. I was blacked out, I didn’t know you existed until six minutes ago. No I don’t have any reason. Don’t forget to keep my ladies locker room happy, by having sex. That was a brilliant idea, by me. I’m even a fuckin’ genius blacked out. I don’t even want to know how much experience you have, but you’re about to throw down with the best in the world. In the world, kid…and spending this time with you, here, I’m not convinced you got it.”

Boston, already having seen his way to the door, glances quickly at Perry, just as he walks through the threshold, firing off…

BOSTON: “I’ve never lost a fight I’ve won, Mr. Wallace.”

WALLACE: “I’m not sure what the fuck you just said, but I do know this…first and last time I’ll tell you, Boston: don’t get cute, and shut the fuck up, when you’re talking to me.”

Boston cracks a smile and subtly shakes his head as he walks out of the door, overtop of his own drops of blood, and into a brand new world that he’ll either learn to navigate and conquer, or pass away, unnaturally, attempting to do so.

The atmosphere is still electric as Adrenaline continues on. The fans are anticipating the next bount when we an unfamiliar song hits the airways. Emerging from the back is former 4CW General Manager and current 4CW, Khris Young.

VASSA: ”Khris Young said he’d be here tonight and here is, in the flesh, in Boston!”

JOHNSON:”I’m interested in what he’s got to say. Signed a one year deal not too long ago, but has yet to compete. Looks in phenomenal shape.”

VASSA:”Always commenting on dudes’ bodies.”

Khris Young takes his time getting to the ring, slapping the hands of a few fans as he passes by. He reaches the base of the ring, walks up the steps, and soaks all of the cheers in before stepping through the ropes. In his business suit, Young takes off running and bounces off the ropes, all with a smile. Young receives a mic and for the first time in months, we hear Khris Young speak inside a 4CW ring.

YOUNG: ”It feels great to be back inside of a 4CW ring and it’s even better that it’s here in Boston, Massachusetts!”

Young gets an ovation for his cheap pop as he continues on.

YOUNG: ”On June twenty fourth of this year, I signed a one year deal to compete within the confines of 4CW. A few months prior, I decided to hang up my authoritative apparel and focus on a new venture. Many have been speculating what I plan to do. Why I’ve come back. And to be quite frank, there are only two reasons as to why I came. First and foremost, I want to prove to myself that I still have it. There’s no greater feeling than letting it all hang out inside this ring. The other reason? Well, in short, I came back to get a piece of gold.”

The fans erupt in cheers as Young rubs his facial hair.

YOUNG: ”I’m sure you all are wondering which piece I’m gunning for. Most would assume it’s the gold wrapped around the waist of Felicity Banks. Nah. What about Dakota Smith and the strap hanging off his shoulder? Nope. So, we’re left with the Tag Titles, right? I’m gonna find a partner and attempt to dethrone the Gold Standard? No. And make no mistake about it, i’m not intimidated by any of those I just mentioned. Great athletes, but I’m just not interested.”

After a brief pause, he continues.

YOUNG: ”It wasn’t until my gym mate, Money Max started competing on Underground that I started taking interest in the subdivision. I saw something in Underground that hadn’t seen in 4CW for awhile now. And that is pure wrestling. Sure, some great athletes occupy the roster spots on Adrenaline, the best in the world, in my opinion, but it’s watered down with bullshit. I say that in the most respectful way. While my decision swayed towards the Underground, what tipped the scale was the return of Nathaniel Havok.”

The mentioning of Havok gets a mixed reaction as he just smiles.

YOUNG: ”At that point, I looked across the roster and I saw superstars like Niobe, El Futuro, Shadow, and now Havok, among others and I knew that’s where I wanted to be. I like to be apart of the building process, building a brand. I will make my return at Underground and I will be seeking the gold that is draped over the shoulder of Niobe Martin.”

The fans cheer in sheer excitement.

YOUNG: ”For those in the back or those in attendance tonight thinking I joined the “B” show, well I got news for you, it’s not the “B” show any more.”

After a brief pause to let the fans eat up the announcement, he concludes.

YOUNG: ”As far as the next show goes? I’ll be there, but not in a speaking capacity like tonight, but as a wrestler. The phenom is back and he’s hunting for gold.”

Young drops the mic, exits the ring, and interacts with a few fans as he heads to the back.

JOHNSON:”Huge announcement. Young has declared his spot on the Underground roster and next week, he’ll make his return official!”

VASSA:”The arrogance of this guy. Come on!”

JOHNSON:”I don’t think it’s arrogance, he just wants to prove himself. Nonetheless, Khris Young is back and we still have plenty of show left. We’ll be right back!”

Cut backstage to the locker room area, we see Bryan Williams prepping for his no-disqualification match with Drew Stevenson tonight. Bryan is in a more somber mood, not his usual peppy self. As Bryan adjusts his wrist tape, he hears a commotion outside of the locker room. Looking to his right, Bryan sees Aidan Carlisle entering the locker room and entering the scene. He groans, shaking his head as she walks in.

WILLIAMS: “Not now, if you want to try and talk again I’m down but not right now. I need to get my mind right, I have things to take care of tonight.”

CARLISLE: “That’s fine. Believe it or not, I wanted to come wish you good luck. I want to see you kick Stevenson’s ass.”

Bryan laughs, Aidan doesn’t seem to find anything funny about this situation.

WILLIAMS: “Wish me good luck, or make sure that I at least make it to Fright Night?”

CARLISLE: “There is no ‘at least’ about it. We’re going to make it there, and we’re going to win.”

Bryan sighs, he sits down on the locker room bench. His hands folded up as he leans down, slumped over.

WILLIAMS: “Look, I picked you because of your talent and our similar interests. I didn’t expect for all of this to happen to you, and I know you didn’t either. This shit has changed you though, and I don’t think for the better. I’m really trying to work through all of this-”

CARLISLE: “My personal life has changed, my desire for the Tag Team Championships has not.”

WILLIAMS: “What happens when your personal life gets in the way of that desire?”

CARLISLE: “Why would it? Ian doesn’t work here, and the man that caused this change? He’s one of our opponents. It just means I’ll tear him apart that much more viciously when the time comes.”

Bryan stands up, putting on a t-shirt as he is finally prepared for his match.

WILLIAMS: “Just remember who’s had your back this entire time, when Dakota took you. When you turned your back on Liam-”

CARLISLE: “Don’t you dare!”

She reaches out and slaps him before he can finish the sentence.

CARLISLE: “You will never understand how much it hurt me to tell him to go. He deserved better than me.”

Bryan holds his cheek, red and swollen with blood.

WILLIAMS: “I’m starting to think that I do as well.”

CARLISLE: “Go fuck yourself, you hypocritical little shit. I have been there from step one for you, since the moment we agreed to be partners. Not a goddamn thing has changed in the ring. Nothing has affected you at all, and you just sit there accusing me of being the one changing things while I’m the one who keeps trying to keep this partnership together. I’m the one who’s fucking coming out to your match for commentary, to talk you up, to brag about my partner.”

Bryan doesn’t say much, was there really anything that he could say? Aidan looked on, her partner silent in defiance as he stood in front of her. She scoffed, turning her heels and leaving the locker room. Bryan stood there frozen for a moment, suddenly chasing after her.

It was too late, Aidan was already out the door and turning the corner. Bryan was a few steps too late, and several words short of an apology. He rubbed his cheek, still burning with sensation after the slap he had received. As he stood there, a voice came out of nowhere that startled him.

???: ”What’s wrong, mate? Did you speak the truth and she took offense?”

The distinguishable accent caught Bryan’s attention, he turned around to face the Atlantic City champion, Cyrus Riddle.

WILLIAMS: “I can’t tell anymore, she seems to be stuck in her own little world now. Nothing I say is getting through to her. Speaking of getting through, I heard you two had a bit of a scuffle earlier?”

Cyrus smirked, adding in a slight laugh.

RIDDLE: ”Not sure scuffle is the word, but it was…an interesting interaction. Just so you and I are clear, I’m sorry for undue stress this has caused for you, Bryan. I happen to think well of you.”

Bryan nodded, clearly thinking about something.

WILLIAMS: “You already know that I respect your work in the ring. Outside of it is questionable to me, but that’s not the issue right now. I feel slighted, Aidan only really seems to care about herself lately. So I’ve decided that I’m going to start worrying about me, maybe pay less attention about others. I have a match tonight with Drew, and Aidan is going to be on commentary. I have business to take care of in the ring, so I will have my full attention on him.”

A snide grin came across Riddle’s face at the news of Aidan being on commentary.

RIDDLE: ”You do that, Bryan, it’s about time you looked out for number one. At the end of the day, you can only rely on yourself. Especially when you have to partner with the likes of her. You have my word, she’ll make it to Fright Night. It’s just a matter of how.”

With that Bryan pats the champ on the shoulder, saying nothing as he walks out of the scene. Cyrus Riddle stands there, smirking.

VASSA: “Carlisle and Williams are imploding right before our very eyes, what a shame.”

JOHNSON: “Imploding? Did you see what I saw? It sounded like Bryan just gave Cyrus Riddle the okay to take out his own partner! You saw what he tried to do to her earlier tonight!”

VASSA: “I don’t know what you’re talking about, it was just a friendly conversation.”

The scene opens up backstage where Hopkins is seen a little sluggish, giggling and laughing to himself as he bumps into the wall several times. 4CW’s Interviewer, Gabriel Hartman rushes as he sees the slow, sluggish Hopkins make his way, in his ring gear, ready to go to work.

HARTMAN: ”Hopkins…Hopkins, you alright? What the hell is wrong with you? You high?”

Question on top of question, Hopkins’s head just rolled and rolled in a slow but steady circle as he looked at Hartman, a smirk on his face.

HOPKINS: ”Nah B .. I’m good. I’m hella-good. Matter of fact, I’m muthaluvin’ excellent. I’m ready to go out there with my homie and put in this work.”

HARTMAN: ”Not in this condition … You look wrecked!”

HOPKINS: ”Well you go flying five feet out of a ring by Suicidal Superman and tell me how you feel afterwards. I’m good though. I’m fine and high … Higher than Myke Adams when he’s airborn. Trust me, I’m good!”

HARTMAN: ”Okay, if you say so! So on tonight, this is a preview to what is in store come Fright Night that will be live on PPV in your hometown of Brooklyn, NY. Going to give them a preview?”

Hopkins, still sporting that smirk, he shakes his head and waving his finger.

HOPKINS: ”My secrets are safe. No spoilers will be given. Only thing that will be given as a preview tonight is me and Flipp pre-cooking these two on 450 degrees. Felly Fel knows what’s up and Mr. Everything Dies definitely is going to be in the know.”

Hopkins suddenly slumped to the floor, sliding down the wall like slime, he just laughed it off as Hartman shook his head.

HARTMAN: ”You gotta be kidding me! What’s gotten into you, Hops? This isn’t you!”

HOPKINS: ”It’s always been me, G-Hart! I’m still the same me, just a little more flavor added to the mix. Enjoy tonight bro … Gonna love it!”

Hopkins finds his way to his feet after crawling on all fours for a moment, again laughing it off, he walked off, stumbling a bit before pausing, getting himself together before resuming where he straightened up as the cameras got a shot of Hartman just shaking his head as all went back to ringside.


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

VASSA: “Here comes Drew Stevenson, doesn’t this have a big match feel to you Steve?”

JOHNSON: “Indeed it does Vinny.”

POWERS: “Coming down to the ring, hailing from Kansas City, Missouri, he is one half of the 4CW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONSSS…’THE EMERALD’ DREWWWW STTEEEEVEEENSSOONNNNN!!”

He just begins walking down the aisle sporting his usual attire which consists of dark green wrestling pants, dark green knee pads, boots and his hands taped up in dark green tape as well. Once at ringside, he quickly rolls into the ring from under the bottom rope immediately getting back to his feet just pacing the ring simply awaiting for the bell to ring thus getting this match underway.

POWERS: “And his opponent…”

VASSA: “Well folks, if you haven’t noticed we’re joined here by Aidan Carlisle.”

JOHNSON: “Yes, Aidan and Bryan got into it a little while ago, I don’t think Bryan will be in the best of moods here tonight.

The drums for “Nemesis” start up, kicking into the guitar and the beat.The main riff starts, playing over and over as the lights turn down. Strobes going along to the beat of the song. “No I don’t care anymore I’ll never be what you want me to be” Bryan walks out from the back, head held down low. The song continues to play, as Bryan stands on the top of the ramp. With his head down, Bryan holds up his right hand and extends his pointer finger. He holds it up momentarily, eventually beginning to walk down to the ring as the song continues.

POWERS: ”Walking down the aisle, from San Antonio, Texas… BRRRYAN WILLIAMS!!”

Bryan makes his way to the ring, walking at a brisk pace towards the ring. He doesn’t waste much time getting into the ring, walking up the steel steps and climbing in through the top and middle rope. With a serious look on his face, Bryan stands in the ring waiting for his opponent.

VASSA: “Nice to see you Aidan, you haven’t said much since coming out here.”

JOHNSON: “Not that we mind the surprise, but what brings you out to join us tonight, Aidan?”

CARLISLE: “I’m out here to support my partner, whether he wants to act like he is my partner or not. Funny how he keeps claiming I’m the one turning my back, isn’t it?”

VASSA: “Hey, you’ll hear no complaints from me. You’re making us look better by sitting out here.”


The bell rings, and both men waste no time as they start going at it with vicious forearm shots. Both men trade good blows, shot for shot they seem to go. Bryan Williams starts to get the advantage, laying in forearm shot after forearm shot that rocks Drew Stevenson backwards. Drew collects himself, grabbing Bryan and Irish whipping him to the ropes. Drew runs towards his opponent, knocking him over the top rope with a rough clothesline. Bryan springs back up from the ground, sliding back into the ring and taking Drew down with a shoot double leg takedown. Both men lay into each other with punches, Drew squirming out from under Bryan to get back to his feet. Drew lands a big kick to Bryan’s stomach, doubling him over. Drew tries for a suplex, but Bryan blocks the attempt. Bryan drags Drew over towards the ropes, suplexing him over the top rope and sending him spilling to the outside!

VASSA: “Look out below!”

Drew doesn’t stay down for long, getting back up to his feet using the ropes. Bryan runs to the opposite side of the ring, using his momentum to land a nasty baseball slide that knocks Drew Stevenson backwards. Drew gets back up, in time to see Bryan launching himself through the ropes at him with a Tope Suicida!

JOHNSON: “Tope Suicida!!”

VASSA: “Bryan Williams just used himself as a missile!”

Bryan collides with Drew, both men flying and landing onto the ramp area. Bryan takes a breather, getting back to his feet as Drew tries to do the same. Bryan goes to grab Drew, but Drew gives him an eye rake! With Bryan temporarily distracted, Drew grabs him and tossed him into the ring apron with a back suplex!

CARLISLE: “Come on Bryan, get the fuck up. I know you’re tougher than that.”

VASSA: “He landed pretty hard, that ring apron has absolutely NO give.”

Drew smiles, standing over his downed opponent as Bryan holds his back. Drew picks him back up, he launches him over his head and onto the hard ground below with a belly to belly suplex. Bryan lands with a sick thud, as Drew casually walks over to his downed opponent. Bryan tries to crawl up to his feet, using the ring barricade but Drew uses it as leverage to choke Bryan with his boot. He leans down, his butt almost touching the ground as he pushes the bottom of his boot down on Bryan’s windpipe. Eventually Bryan seems to stop squirming, and Drew breaks the hold before he can pass out. He smiles, looking underneath the ring for something.

He tosses out a few chairs, and a trash can lid. Drew holds the lid, but doesn’t see that Bryan has been able to get to his feet. Drew turns around and receives a single leg dropkick that sends the lid straight into his face!

VASSA: “Oh no!”

JOHNSON: “Drew got caught!”

Bryan tries to catch his breath, as his opponent sits up very groggy. He looks around, shaking the cobwebs from his head. Bryan takes the moment to grab the chairs, tossing them back into the ring. Bryan tries to slide into the ring, but Drew Stevenson is right there to stop him. He grabs Bryan by the legs, pulling him back to the outside. Drew doesn’t let Bryan fall to the mat, he holds him in a fallaway slam position. Somehow Drew seems to snatch his opponent up, lifting him up and over his head in a military press position! He runs, tossing Bryan right into the side of the barricade! Bryan lands with a sick thud, the fans respond in curt.

CARLISLE: “Goddammit Williams, come on!”



VASSA: “Did you see that?!”

JOHNSON: “Drew just tossed him like it was nothing!”

With his opponent down, and the match in his favor Drew Stevenson looks to take his time in dismantling him. Drew reaches under the ring, pulling out another chair that he quickly takes to the back of Bryan Williams. The chair lands with a sick thud, Bryan recoils backwards in pain. He desperately tries to get back to his feet, Drew doesn’t let him as he smashes the chair into his back again. Drew picks his opponent up, tossing him shoulder first into the steel steps. Bryan hits hard, he bounces off of the steps as Drew talks some smack.

Drew picks up his opponent, rolling him back into the ring. Taking his time, he waits for Bryan to get back to his feet. Bryan finally staggers up, Drew stalking him as he does. Bryan turns around and walks right into another belly to belly suplex from Drew Stevenson. Drew quickly goes for the cover, hoping to end this match now.








VASSA: “Bryan Williams still has a lot of fight left in him!”

JOHNSON: “Drew Stevenson is starting to look flustered here.”

Drew looks upset, thinking that he had his opponent finished. He grabs Bryan by the hair, pulling him back up to his feet. Bryan finally fires up, a forearm shot collides with the side of Drew’s face. Drew stumbles, allowing Bryan to pick him up and drop him on his knee with a backbreaker. Drew doesn’t stay down long, most of the damage in this match having been done to Bryan. He swings wildly, Bryan ducks and lands a swinging side slam backbreaker that seems to take the air out of Drew’s lungs. Bryan quickly makes the cover.





VASSA: “Kickout at one!”

JOHNSON: “He just hasn’t given Drew enough of a beating yet.”

Bryan knows he has to wear Drew down, he picks him up and tosses him into the corner. Bryan drives in a few shoulders, right into the stomach of Drew Stevenson. Drew continues to double over, shoulder after shoulder being rammed deep into his stomach. Bryan pauses, and tries for another shoulder ram but Drew has enough time to grab his hair. He pulls Bryan backwards, leveling him with a short arm lariat! Bryan pops back up, only to be slammed to the mat with a gut-wrench powerbomb! Drew Stevenson quickly covers his opponent.








VASSA: “Drew Stevenson is taking control of this match away from Bryan Williams.”

JOHNSON: “Drew is a very crafty person, he doesn’t like hardcore matches but that doesn’t mean he won’t do what is needed to win.”

Drew looks around, picking up one of the chairs that lay next to him. He looks to Bryan’s right knee, slamming the chair down onto the brace. Bryan winces, grabbing his leg as Drew continues to wallop it over and over. Bryan keeps fighting, he hobbles to his feet in defiance of Drew’s attack. Drew allows him to stumble up, he reels back and slams the chair into the head of Bryan Williams! Bryan drops to the mat, it seems that his face is covered in blood in an instant. Drew tosses the chair to the side, covering his downed opponent.








CARLISLE: That’s right! If I can pull it out with a bad knee, so can you. Come on Bryan! Kick his ass already!”

VASSA: “Drew is a ring vet, he knows that Bryan is in trouble with that knee of his.”

JOHNSON: “I see bad intentions in the eyes of Mr. Stevenson.”

Drew is amazed that Bryan is still holding in there, he rolls Bryan over towards the corner. Drew hops out of the ring, pulling Bryan closer and closer to the turnbuckle post. Wrapping his legs in a figure four, Drew lets himself hang off of the post as Bryan screams in pain. The damage done to his right knee was just a set-up for this, the BoneCrusher.



Drew lets all of his weight hang down on Bryan’s legs, his thighs being pulled towards the ground with massive weight. Official Patrick McDale stays close to Bryan, asking him if he wishes to give up. Drew is surprised once again to hear that his opponent will not quit, and it seems that Drew’s legs are finally starting to get tired as the hold weakens. Finally Drew falls to the mat, breaking the hold. He tries to catch his breath, as Bryan Williams lays there clutching his knee. Drew stirs, as does Bryan until both men are standing up. Bryan hobbles to the ropes, slingshotting himself up and over to the outside. Drew is able to move! Bryan lands, and immediately crumbles to the ground as he holds his knee.

VASSA: “And the knee continues to be a problem for Bryan Williams.”

JOHNSON: “Drew knows that, Bryan’s had ACL surgeries on that knee in the past. Drew is going to look for the kill right now, and finish this match.”

Drew laughs, his opponent grimaces on the ground in pain. Drew tosses him back into the ring, stalking him as Bryan is slow to get up. Drew stalks him, as Bryan finally is able to get back to his feet. Drew spins him around, dropping him to the mat with the sit-out Rock Bottom! The Final Conflict lands, and Drew says this one is over. He calmly covers his opponent, laying on him back first as McDade makes the count.









Drew shoots at look at the referee, his opponent lays there battered and bruised. He argues with the ref that it was a three count, but Patrick McDale assures him that it wasn’t. Drew shakes his head, unwilling to turn this wrestling match into anything else. He sighs, rolling back out of the ring. He searched under the ring, a table is slid out onto the mat. The crowd cheers in expectation, as Drew sets the table up on the outside. Drew pulls out another chair, he gets up and catches the chair right in the face! Bryan Williams took the break in the match to get up, hobbling over to the ropes and kicking the chair in Drew’s face!

CARLISLE: “And that is why he’s my partner. He’s a tough son of a bitch and I knew he had it in him to do what needs doing. Keep it up, Williams, kick the shit out of him.”

VASSA: “I think Drew Stevenson is busted wide open now!”

JOHNSON: “He took the corner of that chair right on his forehead, he had no time to move or cover up.”

Drew lays there on the outside, he too now has a crimson mask to go along with Williams. Bryan is looking fired up, he punches at his knee and stretches it out a bit. The fans are fully behind Bryan, as he slides out. Drew gets back to his feet, he eats forearm shot after forearm shot. Bryan yells, giving Drew the finger before attempting a rolling elbow. Drew hits him with a forearm shot before he can connect, but Bryan shakes it off. He roars again, leveling Drew with a roaring elbow!

Both men lay there on the outside, the crowd going insane. They slam their hands on the barricade, trying to will both men back up to their feet.





Bryan gets up, as does Drew, both men pulling themselves up and into the ring. Hunched over, Bryan attempts to combo a few shots into his opponent. He lands several slaps, a couple of jabs, and a nice forearm shot. He goes for a thigh kick, but Drew catches his leg and tosses him over with a dragon screw. Drew wastes no time in following that up with the Texas Cloverleaf!

Bryan desperately tries to spin around, but Drew has him locked in tight. Luckily for Bryan, he’s close enough to the ropes to pull himself towards it. Bryan pulls his body, halfway out onto the apron and in an awkward position for Drew Stevenson. Drew breaks the hold, as Bryan continues to pull himself more and more onto the apron. Drew climbs through the ropes, onto the apron as he grabs at his opponent. Bryan gets up to one knee, a low blow lands on an un-suspecting Drew Stevenson. He gets up to his feet, turning Drew around awkwardly on the apron. Both men poached above the table, Bryan is able to lift Drew up and down through the table with an OMEGA DRIVER. AN OMEGA DRIVER FROM THE APRON THROUGH THE TABLE!






CARLISLE: “That’s because Stevenson brought a pussy to a dick swinging contest, boys.”

Both men lay there, not moving much. The fans still rowdy as ever, after witnessing a spot like that. Neither man moving, as referee Patrick McDale heads out of the ring to check on both wrestlers. They don’t seem to move much, he communicates with them both a bit as the match seems to stop. A “X” is thrown up, the fans immediately booing at recognition of what is happening.

VASSA: “It appears that Bryan Williams and Drew Stevenson might be hurt here folks.”

JOHNSON: “That was a nasty spill the both of them took here, the crowd seems to be in a more somber tone. I hope our fine medical staff can help out, hopefully they’re not seriously injured.”

VASSA: “I don’t know about that, folks lets take a look back at that Sexualizer off of the apron.”

The video plays back in slow motion, Bryan lifting Drew up and over his head into a piledriver position as he leaps off of the apron. The table comes up quick, buckling and breaking under the weight of both men. They slowly crash to the ground, a heap of wood and people.

JOHNSON: “Here comes the medical staff now.”

VASSA: “Drew and Bryan are still not moving…”

Medical staff rush out from the back, racing to both competitors bringing whatever aid they have. A stretcher is brought out, the staff talking with both men as they lay there on the mat. The crowd murmurs, unsure of whats really happening right now. Suddenly Drew Stevenson is up, shoving officials out of the way. He’s still very groggy, as is Bryan Williams who stands up as well. The crowd giving into applause for both men as they are alright. Drew rolls into the ring, almost collapsing as Bryan is right behind him. Bryan slowly makes his way, basically throwing himself onto Drew as Patrick McDale makes the count.










DREW STEVENSON KICKS OUT AT THE LAST NANO-SECOND! The crowd, and Bryan Williams cannot believe it. Bryan sits there in shock, very tired from the match. He breathes heavily, the match taking his toll on him as he falls to the mat. Drew doesn’t seem better, still bleeding from the chair shot he took earlier. Both men struggle to crawl, barely being able to stand up. Bryan is the first one up, holding himself up using the top rope. He stares a hole into his opponent, waiting for him to stand. Drew finally does, Bryan sucks in a deep breath. He charges at Drew, who ducks a roaring elbow attempt. Bryan turns around as Drew tries again to lift him up for the Final Conflict, but Bryan is able to escape. He goes to lift Drew up for the Sexualizer, Drew somehow flips and lands on his feet. Drew lands a elbow shot from out of nowhere to Bryan’s jaw!


Bryan almost falls to the mat, he stumbles backwards hitting the second and bottom rope. Bryan uses that to rebound towards his opponent, leveling him inside out with a nasty lariat! Drew pops back up, and Bryan lifts him up in the brainbuster position! Before he can drop him onto his knee, Drew rolls down and into an inside cradle pin!










Bryan and Drew are somehow back to their feet, a fighting spirit raging inside the both of them. They stand there, furious and breathing heavy. They meet in the middle of the ring, foreheads touching as they spit words at each other. Drew yells, Bryan yells, Drew lands a flurry of forearm shots. He holds the head of Bryan Williams, driving each and every forearm shot deep into his face. Bryan fights out of the hold, he drives a forearm into the face of Drew Stevenson. Follow up with a slap, another slap, a spinning backfist. Drew stands there stunned, as Bryan rushes towards the ropes. He comes back, a single leg dropkick sends Drew Stevenson up and over towards the commentary side. Drew tries to pick himself up, pulling at the table and almost knocking over its contents. Vassa, Johnson, and Aidan Carlisle are all up on their feet to try and get out of the way. Bryan slides to the outside, grabbing Drew and irish whipping him back into the ring. Drew uses his momentum to swing back around, tossing Bryan Williams over the table and into the crew! Vinny Vassa and Steve Johnson seem to be okay, but Bryan Williams landed hard on Aidan Carlisle. Bryan stirs, rolling off of his tag team partner. Drew stands there laughing, Bryan gets up with furious rage. He spears Drew, taking him down to the mat to a huge crowd pop. Drew covers up, as Bryan just seems to be punching himself tired. Drew kicks Bryan off of him, scurrying to the ring with Bryan giving chase. Drew slides into the ring, Bryan close behind him. He can’t stop Bryan’s momentum, Bryan hits the ropes and crushes Drew with another single leg dropkick. Bryan lands awkwardly on his right leg, he can’t follow anything up as he clutches at it.

VASSA: “You alright?”

JOHNSON: “Yeah, I’m fine. Bryan Williams does not seem to be fine right now. He’s clutching his knee big time, this gives Drew Stevenson all kinds of advantage right now.”

Bryan gets back up, once again hobbling on one leg. Drew finally stands up too, both men breathing heavy. Drew lunges at Bryan, who cannot get out of the way in time. Drew throws him into the corner, right after left raining down on Bryan Williams. Drew backs up, throwing a clothesline that sends Bryan backwards into the turnbuckle. Drew charges at his opponent again, but is caught in a Uranage slam! Bryan sends Drew back first onto his left knee! Drew Stevenson rolls around in pain, allowing Bryan Williams to clamp on that elevated Boston Crab!

VASSA: “BW Special!”

JOHNSON: “This is what he used to beat Thaddeus Grey last week! Bryan’s right leg is a whole mess of trouble, he doesn’t have it fully locked in!”

Bryan tries his best to torque backwards on the hold, but with only one leg Drew Stevenson is able to crawl his way to the ropes. Patrick McDale tells Drew its a no-disqualification match, Bryan pulls him back to the middle of the ring anyway! Bryan leans down, letting his right leg rest on the small of Drew’s back. Drew yells out in pain, the crowd chanting along.




VASSA: “Bryan Williams is so close right now!”

JOHNSON: “Drew Stevenson has nowhere to go, he has to fight out of this hold if he wants to win!”

Drew suddenly rolls over to his back, pushing Bryan off with his legs. He’s slow to get up, holding the small of his back. Bryan is back up too, he lunges at Drew who is actually able to side step Bryan. He grabs him, and drops him to the mat with THE FINAL CONFLICT! Drew doesn’t waste a moment in covering his opponent!










JOHNSON: “Wait, Aidan is up…what the hell is she doing?”

Drew Stevenson cannot believe it either, he also cannot believe that Aidan Carlisle is standing in the ring with the both of them. A look of fury and anger comes over her face after having taking that hard hit, Drew and Bryan standing up confused as to why she’s in the ring. Bryan yells out to his partner to get out of the ring. Aidan quickly gets in his face, the both of them in a yelling match. Drew Stevenson cannot believe it, he quickly gets in between the two trying to separate them.

VASSA: “Drew wants to finish this match, he can’t do that with Aidan in the way.”

JOHNSON: “Probably not a good idea to touch Aidan right now, look out Drew!”


Drew catches a slap from Aidan, he quickly retaliates with a right hand that knocks her down. Bryan spins him around, he unloads on him with a flurry of rights and lefts. Aidan gets up to her feet, a busted lip the reason for her fury now. She grabs a chair, Bryan spins Drew Stevenson around for another Sexualizer.


Aidan swings the chair, Drew is able to duck in time and Bryan Williams catches it flush on the top of his head! He crumbles to the mat, Aidan Carlisle unsure of what just happened quickly gets tossed out of the ring by Drew Stevenson. Drew rushes over to his downed opponent, quickly picking him back up. Drew crushes Bryan, sending him straight to the mat with a Final Conflict. Drew shakes his head, he towers over Bryan giving him the middle finger. Drew picks him back up, Bryan lifeless in his hands. He shushes the crowd, and sends Bryan straight into the mat with ANOTHER FINAL CONFLICT!

JOHNSON: “A defiant Drew Stevenson sending a message!”

Drew walks over to his opponent, downed and not moving. Drew slowly covers him, his foot resting on Bryan’s chest. Drew flexes for the crowd, roaring loudly as they boo him.










VASSA: “I cannot believe it, Aidan Carlisle just cost Bryan Williams this match!”

JOHNSON: “I don’t know, that looked like an accident to me. Aidan looked like she was swinging at Drew, Drew was able to duck and Bryan caught the worst of it.”

“I’m the Man” begins to play as Drew Stevenson celebrates, he rolls out of the ring holding his arms up high as the crowd boos. Bryan Williams doesn’t move much, Aidan Carlisle gets back in the ring to check on her partner. She says something to Bryan, the look on her face one of fury as he glares at Stevenson. Suddenly “Anarchy in the UK” begins to play, the crowd explodes with cheers as Cyrus Riddle races down to the ring. Piano Wire in hand, he slides in as Aidan Carlisle quickly leaves the ring. She wastes no time, hopping over the barricade and leaving through the crowd. Cyrus Riddle wastes no time either, he leaves the ring and goes to chase her down.

We cut backstage and find a camera crew that is following Chris Madison as he navigates through the corridors of the Conte Forum. Having had his match earlier in the night, Madison is dressed down to street clothes, wearing a pair of baggy sweat pants and a black 4CW t-shirt. With a black gym bag draped over his shoulder, Madison rapidly approaches the rear exit. The door is being guarded by one of 4CW’s security guards who’s wearing black boots, black cargo pants, and a tight black t-shirt with the word “SECURITY” screen printed on the front of it in bold white letters.

SECURTY GUARD: ”Calling it a night Chris?”

Madison slowed his pace as he got to the door, shaking hands with the security guard before responding.

MADISON: ”Yeah man. It’s been a long night. I’ve got no stake in the main event and I just went through a war with Riddle. I’m beat.”

SECURITY GUARD: ”You and Riddle killed it man. That was hands down a match of the night candidate! Shit like that inspires people to wanna pursue a career in wrestling.”

MADISON: ”Thanks man. I’m gonna roll out of here so I can rest up before I start preparing for Fright Night.”

Madison and the security guard exchange another hand shake before he pushes the door open for Chris. Chris shuffles through the doorway and exits the arena with the door swinging shut behind him. The camera crew sticks by the rear exit after Madison’s departure and has their attention drawn immediately as Frankie Morrison charges down the hallway. He stops by the security guard and pauses for a moment while trying to catch his breath.

MORRISON: ”You didn’t happen to see Madison pass through?”

SECURITY GUARD: ”He just stepped out that door. You can probably still catch up to him.”

The guard opened the door for Frankie Morrison and stepped out behind him.

MORRISON: ”Shit! Go get some more security!”

Right there in the parking lot Lord Raab and Samuel McPherson are putting their boots to a downed Chris Madison. Madison tries his best to cover up any vital spots of the human anatomy. Lord Raab drops down to one knee and begins pummeling Madison with stiff right hands, patiently choosing his spots and hitting the mark. Morrison took a few steps forward but quickly halted, realizing that he’d be of no help. Lord Raab stands up and directs McPherson to pick up Madison. As he lifts Madison he is caught off guard by a headbutt that staggers the big man. Madison turns towards Lord Raab and hits him with a flying knee, dropping him down to the concrete. Madison turns back towards McPherson just in time to catch him running towards him. Madison flips McPherson over with a release overhead belly-to-belly suplex!

Madison pushes off of the concrete and gets back up to his feet just in time to be nailed in the midsection by a metal pipe from Lord Raab. Madison drops down and clutches his ribs, the same injured by Samuel McPherson a few weeks prior. Raab drops down, putting both of his hands on Madison’s back, holding him towards the ground. He begins to drive his knees upwards into Madison’s ribs, each shot more impactful than the last. McPherson stands back up to his feet and waits for Raab to release Madison. McPherson grabs Madison by the collar of his shirt and the waistband of his pants before throwing him back first against the side of a nearby parked car. Madison rolls and sits up with his back against the passenger side door of the car. McPherson charges and crushes Madison between the steel of the car door and a running knee!

The door swings back open and security swarms Lord Raab and Samuel McPherson.

SECURITY GUARD: ”That’s enough guys!

Raab and McPherson laugh at the warning and instantaneously begin fighting with the security team. They make quick work of the crew of eight that came out to break up the assault and turn their attention back to Chris Madison. McPherson drags Madison by his head towards the front of the car. He shoves his head between his legs and reaches down, grabbing Madison around the waist. McPherson then lifts Madison up and powerbombs onto the hood of the parked car! Lord Raab climbs up onto the hood with Madison and lifts him up, spiking his head through the windshield with his variation of a double arm brainbuster, The Killerbuster! Suddenly a car comes to screeching halt behind the Monstimals. The windows are rolled down and you can see Henry Losak in the driver’s seat waiving on his two clients to join him. They jump in the car and quickly take off like a bat out of hell. Morrison rushes to Madison’s side, placing a hand on his back while whispering to him. After realizing he’s barely getting a response from his client he begins to yell out for help.

MORRISON: ”Someone get medical over here now!”

The production cuts from the parking lot as Morrison runs his hands along the sides of his head, looking over the path of destruction left behind thanks to Lord Raab and Samuel McPherson.

“Dirty Deeds” by AC/DC shakes the Conte Forum as out struts Francis “Freedom” Dart to a heavy chorus of boos. Freedom is wearing a custom made suit and has HIS 4 Corner Tag Team Title over his left shoulder. He smirks as he walks around the Forum soaking in all the jeers pointing and making fun of the Boston, Massachusetts crowd. A few women throw panties at him as he walks by. He just laughs before he finally get in the ring and asks for a mic.

DART: ”What’s up Boston? The feeling is fuckin’ mutual, let me tell you..he can’t say that! I just did! I can say what ever the fuck I want..we are on HBO..they don’t give a shit. You think Perry Wallace gives a shit? He’s probably back there to stoned out of his mind to give a fuck. Have any of you idiots stopped to think that this is exactly the reaction I’m trying to get out of you? putty in my hands. I say “jump” say “how high”? You are all puppets I and I am Freejus Christ your puppet mast–“

VOICE: ”Francis..shut the fuck up!”

The crowd goes crazy as “All About That Bass” by Meghan Trainor echoes throughout the Conte Forum. The cheers are so loud Freedom plugs his ears.

DART: ”Kaaate?”

VOICE: ”Not quite..we’ll get into her a little later.”

Stepping out from the back is former Vice President of Identity Crisis/Theft Robin Cradle wearing a power suit, she starts walking towards the ring with a mic in her hand.

DART: ”Well..well..well. Robin of my former bosses..whoopty doo. Ms. NGW. What happened to that place anyhow?”

Free laughs hysterically as Robin just sits there tapping her right foot on the floor with her arms folded.

CRADLE: ”You done?”

DART: ”No, but apparently they are! What do you want Robin? You chose to stay there while I moved on to way bigger and way better things..4 Corners Wrestling 4 Life baby.”

CRADLE: ”Or until you throw another hissy fit and decide to quit again.”

The fans first erupt into a volcano of laughter then start chanting “You’re a quitter.” as Francis runs around the ring screaming “shut up.” He glares at Robin.

DART: ”I strongly disagree.”

CRADLE: ”Then I suppose you will strongly disagree with this next statement too? You are thiiiirsty!”

The smart 4CW fans catch on and start chanting “Free is thirsty…Free is thirsty. .Free is thirsty!”

DART: ”Thirsty? Me? I’ve got a woman who quenches my thirst..You have all been getting tipsy off the Haterade I see? I mean didn’t we date at one time..Robin?”

Free smirks at her but she gives it right back to him.

CRADLE: ”We did before you were the little bitch you’ve become!”

Free turns beet red in anger as Robin just smiles.


CRADLE: ”Take what back Free? It’s the truth. Look at can you be proud of who you are now?”

Dart takes HIS Tag Title off his left shoulder and parades it around the ring high in the air.

DART: ”This is what I became! A fuckin’ champion..just like I said I would! Nobody to hold me down, nobody to try and change who I am. I may not see eye to eye with Perry Wallace on everything but the guy knows how to run a company. You know what he did Robin? you? He let Free be Free! No senseless censoring of every little thing that comes out of MY mouth. He’s not always on my back telling me I made the company look bad..because at the end of the day the only person who I make look bad is me!”

CRADLE: ”That much is for sure. You’ve got making yourself look bad down to a science don’t ya’ Free?”

The Forum fills with laughter.

DART: ”Wait..that came out wrong..damn know what I mean!”

Free adjusts HIS title over his left shoulder after kicking the middle rope in frustration.

CRADLE: ”I mean let’s be honest here Free..let me break it down for you. You are a shell of your former self. You used to be somebody these people could be proud used to stand for something. Shut up and quit interrupting me Francis “Freedom” Dart–you know when to keep your big trap shut don’t you Free? When I tell you to! Anyway like I was trying to say you used to represent this country proudly. You are a former Navy Seal and a Congressional Medal of Honor winner–“

DART: ”I used to walk old ass, blind as a bat, geezers across the fuckin’ street too..what’s your point? “

CRADLE: ” point is, when did you start changing? Look how many women you’ve been through since “her”? Let’s see here..first there was Erika Valdez. She was sweet but probably too sweet and boring for you..I know your type. Then there was Lacy Roque who left you for your sister Emma Luxor..she was probably a little bit to dirty even for you. Then there was Dee..cute girl, you just weren’t into her enough..I know you Fre–“

DART: ”I was “in” her plenty of times..actually if I remember correctly I’ve been inside you more than a handful of times haven’t I Robin?”

CRADLE: ”You may have..A “tiny” bit right pee wee?”

The smart 4CW fans once again catch on and start chanting “Pee Wee Freedom..Pee Wee Freedom..”.

CRADLE: ”Back to my after Dee there was a few randoms here and there..You’ve never been quite the same since “she” left have you Free? Granted I think this new one Arika Riesen is a keeper and she keeps you in line. But you know the one woman who broke your heart and why you turned into such a crybaby douche bag is, don’t you Free? The one who you were engaged to and you lived with..The only one that ever matter..Cali-Kate!!!”

The crowd goes wild just at the mention of Cali-Kate!

CRADLE: ”Seriously long has it been since you’ve even heard from her? Think about it..why did she leave? She still never gave a real reason did she? We all saw on twitter the “creative differences” she claimed to have with you but deep down you knew that wasn’t the real reason was it Free? Losing her has made you this way..into a cheap knock off of the man I’ll admit at one time I loved. We lived together Free and though I’m putting you in your place now you always took care of me in ways not even Paul Blair could. When we broke up and Cali-Kate moved in I never gave it a second thought. We were done WAY before we actually called it off. Besides I saw the look in your eyes when you looked at her. You were going to give her what you never would me..marriage, family, the whole nine yards–“

DART: ”All nine inches you mean!”

Both Free and Robin break character for a minute and laugh with the crowd who also breaks character by cheering for Free. Free shrugs his shoulders, takes a bow, then gives Robin an adorable look he knows she or any other woman can not resist. He and Robin quickly go back to their banter.

CRADLE: ”Touché. Like I was saying..clearly Cali-Kate was the one Francis. I know you aren’t the brightest Crayola in the box but you haven’t put two and two together to figure out who was really stalking you? Somebody who knew your dog on a personal level..somebody who knew how to get into your house by simply pushing a few buttons on your security system key pad?”

DART: ”Kaaate!?”

CRADLE: ”Look at can barely say her name..not just Kate, it’s been a team effort. We hired a little vixen to do our dirty work but we’ve been renting space in your head the whole time as you would we OWN that tiny little space..isn’t that right?”

“All About That Bass” by Meghan Trainor rocks the Forum to it’s core as finally out steps Cali-Kate! Freedom has a look of shock and confusion as Robin just grins at him. Cali-Kate skips out and starts skipping around ringside circling the ring. Freedom can’t keep his eyes off his former blonde headed bombshell. His jaw drops as she looks him in his eyes and blows him a kiss before joining Robin over with the mic.

CRADLE: ”So whatcha’ thinking Free? Your former Geekette Extraordinaire lookin’ good or what?”

DART: ”I–I–“

CRADLE: ”Francis “Freedom” Dart speechless? I can’t believe it..what happened to your glorious summer of “Free Love”? Did Robin throw a monkey wrench in your plans Freedumbass?”

The fans start chanting “Freedumbass…Freedumbass..Freedumbass” only Free is still in shock to react. His eyes are still locked on Cali-Kate’s. He mouths “Why?” to her. Robin notices this and smiles and hands Cali-Kate the mic and the crowd once again blasts the roof off the building with cheers. Her fans start chanting “Welcome back..Welcome back..Welcome back.” Cali-Kate takes a bow.

CALI-KATE: ”Oh my lanta! You all remember me!? And so do you..Free do they call you now? You should remember me Francis..we were together for a year and lived in the same house for over six months. We were supposed to get married..remember? Of course you Robin said you haven’t been the same since. Some good..the 4CW Tag Title over your shoulder and your win-loss record speaks for itself. I’ve always spoke my mind so why stop now? Let me be real here for a are the REAL Architect around here no matter what anybody else claims. Your past in NGW with Identity Crisis and then Identity Theft followed by Gold Standard here in 4 Corners Wrestling proves that. Now the negative side of you being Kateless in Chicago–“

The fans interrupt her and start chanting first “This is awesome!” followed by “Kateless in Chicago!”

CALI-KATE: ”Aww..thanks guys, I love you too. As I was saying now the negatives of me not being around here to hold your fuckin’ hand! What were you thinking with all the different women? The Summer of Free Love? Freejus Christ, Francis even you couldn’t be that much of a dumbass. You came off as desperate, pathetic and thirsty as fuck! I know you are a damn good looking man..or to use your own words, “fine as fuck” but did you really have to man whore yourself out and bang everything with a fuckin’ pulse? I know I curse like a sailor but this is late night television so get use to it. Look how much drama you caused Francis. What the fuck is the matter with you? Every day it was some new conspiracy, some new angle to keep you down. Every week is was someone new to attack on twitter. Where’s the old Francis? The Francis people could trust and rely on. You don’t believe me? Go ask Jason Cashe what he thinks of this Free compared to MY Francis. And that’s shooting from the hip as they say. (She gyrates her hips back and forth and still Francis will not keep his eyes from being dead locked on Kate’s.) Late night soap opera I heard you say in one of your promos? You know damn well this IS professional wrestling so start acting like a professional. I know you Francis, hell I still love you. I know a lot of this is mind games with you and what you do and say to others. But giving out your password to get into your house?”

CRADLE: ”More than once I might add.”

The crowd breaks into laughter at the expense of your boy Free who is taking the verbal assault of his life from someone who he truly had feelings for.

CALI-KATE: ”Wake the fuck up Francis! Reality check time. You like to blur the lines? Let’s blur them a little shall we? You are far from the easiest person to get a long with in this business, I should know I managed you half your career. But you know as well as I do you are talented both inside that ring and on the mic. It affords you to get away with shit others could only dream of. Perry Wallace isn’t trying to hold you down. Don’t let your experience with Liam McDonald Super Sized Fries keep you from achieving greatness because that is what you are destine for here in 4 Corners Wrestling. I love Jason Cashe but don’t let a few words of anger make you think otherwise. I told everybody I shoot from the hip so here we go again. He called you a “filler”? He knows better than that, he is just blinded by rage at your sophomoric antics lately. I mean can you blame him? You insult the Queen Of Extreme and my opinion the Queen of the Universe Aidan Carlisle? You jump on 4 Corner Wrestling Champion Felicity F’N Banks and fire shots at her? And for who..Ramona Lee Epps? Please that bitch doesn’t like you or anybody else for that matter. Mona takes care of Mona then chews people up and spits them out. You cause a rift between you and your boys over what? A female? What happened to bro code Francis? What happened to bros before hoes? I know the situation wasn’t entirely your fault but you brought that shit upon yourself. And the quitting every other day? Grow the fuck up Francis. Quit trying to be everybody’s Free in shiny armor and worry about yourself. That’s what got you that belt on your shoulder. Champions don’t behave the way you have been behaving and in your heart of hearts you KNOW THAT! Why the look Francis? What’d you think I forgot about you and your catch phrases? Not a chance…you had my heart and in a way you still do. If I would have stuck around you wouldn’t be where you are right now. They say if you truly love someone you set them Free and they will find their way back. Guess what Francis..I’m back!!”

The crowd once again starts chanting “Welcome back Kate..”

CRADLE: ”And one more thing Francis..we are not alone!”

“We are not alone” by Michael Jackson blares over the Forum surround system. While Francis’ eyes are still locked on a smiling Cali-Kate a figure emerges and jumps over the barricade and grabs a chair before entering the ring behind the unsuspecting Francis. The figure is wearing Freedom’s best selling red, white, and blue mask and has a build almost identical to that of Francis. “Total Eclipse of the Heart (Turn Around) by Bonnie Tyler plays causally over the Forum PA system as Francis turns around at the suggestion of a pointing Cali-Kate. Bam! Francis gets lit up like a cheech and chong blunt by the masked Freedom with the steel chair! Francis tries to get up but the masked Freedom blasts him one more time for good measure knocking Francis unconscious. Robin and Cali-Kate clap and the Forum becomes a masked Freedom frenzy with cheers once again nearly raising the roof. The red, white and blue mask wearing Freedom joins Robin and Cali-Kate after he throws down the bented steel chair in disgust. Cali-Kate skips off ahead of Robin and masked Freedom as “American Soldier” by Toby Keith ends the segment and Robin’s reign of terror over Freedom. The words “Your American Hero” flash on the big screen in red, white and blue as the camera eventually fades to an unconscious Francis Dart in the middle of the ring with his hair finally out of place and custom suit wrinkled.

With a look of determination on his face, Perry Wallace storms through the backstage halls on the hunt. Banging from door to door, he makes his way toward the back of the locker rooms where he knows what he is looking for isn’t far ahead.

WALLACE: “Where are you?! Tidus!”

Finally coming to a stop at the last door, Perry takes a deep breathe and then bangs on the door. Not giving anyone time on the other side to even answer, he then grabs the handle and barges in. Inside, Tidus Howe is startled by the interruption until noticing who the person is walking into the room. Shaking his head, Howe stands straight up as Perry meets him face to face.

WALLACE: “Where’s he at? What the hell was that nonsense earlier tonight with John Austin?”

HOWE: “Because I’m suppose to know? That man doesn’t clear anything with me first, he’s out there doing whatever the hell he feels like doing… I don’t even know what he’s doing anymore!”

Realizing his words were true, Wallace nods and both men almost have no idea where to go next with the conversation. That’s when Jason Cashe himself barges into the room with a smile on his face. Seeing both Tidus and Wallace talking, his smile turns from happy to an evil grin.

CASHE: “The fucks going on guys?”

WALLACE: “You tell me! You’re the one causing all kinds of hell out there earlier. Tell me something. Is the Pride Championship not good enough for you or was this just another stunt to make the opening matches that much more exciting?”

CASHE: “Heh maybe a bit of both? That punk bitch deserved it. Lucky his “boys” came down or I’d have kept going until he was on IR. What’s this here though? Ya’ll working business without me?”

HOWE: “Not at all, he wants to know where your Head is! I’d like to know as well..”

Making his way to a nearby bench, Cashe grabs a hand towel and wipes his forehead before dropping down onto the bench to sit. Looking over at Howe, Cashe seems to push the smartass responses.

CASHE: “My head is right where it’s always been. Secured nicely on my shoulders! What I did out there was long overdue. It’s no longer about what new contender this fool puts in front of me. I am free roaming shit now and when someone deserves to get checked, I put the check mark on their ass and dig for that treasure..”

WALLACE: “Booty treasure?”

CASHE: “What? You want next?”

Holding up a hand to hold Cashe off, Wallace reestablishes his reasons for wanting to talk to both Tidus and Cashe.

WALLACE: “After seeing what all went down earlier, I’ve come to talk a little business with you, Cashe”

CASHE: “Talk to him, he has to earn his pay somehow right Tidus? I’ve got to shit here in a minute, WOORKING up a turd!”

WALLACE: “Ok fine..”

Turning to Tidus Howe, Wallace rubs his goatee, thinking over his words for a slight moment. With Cashe’s head down on the bench with a long tube sock in his hands, ignoring both Wallace and Howe. Looking over to Cashe, Wallace just shakes his head for a moment before turning his attention back to Howe.

WALLACE: “Everything good between you two? I know you’re only doing what you feel is best for him because let’s face it, sometimes he acts, well, most of the time he acts before thinking things through.”

CASHE: “Who the fuck are you talking to Wallace? I will shit down your throat…Mind your business, don’t mind mine alright? Pretend I’m not here, continue, continue..”

WALLACE: “I thought Tidus and I were doing the talking here! It was my understanding that you had one prairie dogging. When I have to handle my business I go ahead and do it but please, stay, you need to be here for this. He had one hell of an opportunity out there earlier tonight and he just threw it all away. What gives?”

HOWE: “I’m not sure myself..”

Looking over at Cashe, Tidus Howe can’t really answer the question for Cashe but he can give why he might have done what he did.

HOWE: “I think Jason was only looking to get his hands on John Austin. With all that Austin has done to Cashe recently, I’m not sure the Title was even on his mind.”

CASHE: “Wow for once you’re right on the spot! BINGO! Congrats to Howe for finally seeing the big picture. Bout fucking time…”

Getting up from the Bench, Cashe begins to dig into a duffle bag. He pulls out a box of Baby Wipes and stares at it awkwardly. Turning to Howe he holds up the box and shrugs.

CASHE: “The fuck are these for?”

HOWE: “You mentioned Baby Wipes a few days back, thought you wanted them in your bag? For traveling?”

Launching the box to Wallace, Cashe just shakes his head at the thought of using them. Gave him a chill as he turns back to his bag and begins digging through it again as Wallace and Howe go back to their conversation.

Looking down at the baby wipes in hand, Wallace shakes his head before looking up to Howe.

WALLACE: “Baby wipes?”

Tossing them aside as the smirk on his face disappears.

WALLACE: “How could the title possibly not be on his mind?”

HOWE: “Rightfully it should be! He has a rematch clause, he should be going after that Drying Paint Felic–”

CASHE: “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Don’t talk about Fels like that! She might be a lot of things but BORING!? Come on Man!!”

His mimic of the popular ESPN phrase catches a snicker from Wallace, he was the only one who noticed. Cashe then looks around on the floor before nodding at Wallace as the two lock eyes on one another.

CASHE: “You got any change?”

WALLACE: “For what?”

Holding up the tube sock, it hangs with a small sag.

CASHE: “Making another one…I’m calling it the “Change Up” because well…If someone is winning and I hit em with this? Shit CHANGES UP! Yaaaa know!? Haha so…Got Change?”

Patting his pockets, Wallace shrugs not having any on him. Cashe looks at Tidus Howe and waves off the possibility of him having any. He turns away from them and searches for more change as the Owner of 4CW and the Manager/Agent of Jason Cashe continue with “Business”.

HOWE: “I don’t think Pride really fits Jason, do you? He doesn’t seem too interested in playing nicely right now and Titles really don’t give him the freedom he seems to be looking for. He wants to stretch his legs some. Being 4CW Champion really limited his range, he was sitting on the throne but the throne only provided a glass ceiling of things and people he wants to be involved with. The things he wants to do…I don’t know what he wants anymore to be honest..”

Now standing between them at their sides, Jason Cashe is nodding with duck pressed lips. A very sarcastic grin.

WALLACE: “Well we need to do something! You signed exclusively with 4CW but wouldn’t sign as Highest Paid. Gave that away. You won’t invoke your rematch clause because…?”

Shrugging, Cashe rolls his eyes before responding verbally to Wallace as Tidus listens in closely.

CASHE: “Like Howe here said, he’s heard ME say those same things actually! The PROBLEM is that Felicity does it nicely, I’m not hating completely on the broad. Do I want a shot one on one? Sure but I’ve already taken that Title back on three occasions. 4CW has risen on my shoulders long enough. I’ve been a REAL good boy at bringing eyes and attention on this place and YOU Mr. Wally World have only just recently started to notice and appreciate that!”

WALLACE: “I see now the value in you as an Investment. People like the weird and wild. The free and against the grain. 4CW has provided that plenty but you have always been at the front of the class every turn we’ve made! THAT cannot be overlooked anymore. Let me wrong that rig–”

Pressing his index finger against the lips of Perry Wallace, the room fills with an awkward silence. Cashe with his eyes closed slowly shakes his head from side to side.

CASHE: “There is no way to fix the past. Let’s not try Mmmkay? What we CAN do is have some NEW paperwork drawn up. Tidus here can check it over but then..”

Turning to Tidus Howe, Cashe surprises him with some news of sorts.

CASHE: “Then I will have someone else look at them.”

HOWE: “What? Who?”

CASHE: “Mind ya business!”

His attention back to Wallace, Cashe removes his finger and wipes it on Wallace’s shirt. Tidus Howe standing there stunned, mouth dropped, red in the face.

CASHE: “We’ll figure something out I’m sure. Right now I have plans for the rest of the evening and with UTA thanks in part to you for setting that up! So if you have anything else to offer or talk about, I’m all ears!”

With his thinking face on which almost looks like he is constipated, Perry Wallace nods and has another idea that might satisfy Jason Cashe.

WALLACE: “I do actually…”


“Glory” by Lil Wayne begins playing causing a stir of cheers as Lo’Renzo Porter steps out onto the stage dressed in ty-die knee length trunks and custom made blue and grey DC wrestling kicks. He taps his chest a few times before smiling, raising his left hand to his face.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring from St. Matthews, South Carolina, weighing in at two hundred fifteen pounds and standing six feet, four inches tall, LO’RENZO PPOORRTTEERR!!!

He begins making his way down the ramp, pausing to sign a few autographs before continuing his way to the ring, slapping hands as he does. He steps inside the ring where he spins in a circle before coming to a knee in the center of the ring. He crosses his chest before looking up and looking out at the crowd to his right.

He jumps up to his feet, jumping up and down getting the crowd hype before he crosses his chest and points up to the rafters once more. He runs up a turnbuckle before faking the back flip he normally does, instead he points out to the crowd before saluting them, taking his bandanna from around his dreads and throwing it into the crowd. Setting up in his corner he closes his eyes for a few seconds before letting out a deep breathe, waiting for the match to begin.

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

“How many start a journey, but never see the end

I never ask how, conceive it then speak in whens

A man will work his whole life to see his ego shed

I sew it up needle head all I need is thread

A team can only take it as far as its strongest leader

The streets are red, runnin with the blood of non-believers”

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

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

“I’m out for action what the fuck are y’all about relaxin’?

They can doubt my sanity but never doubt my passion

And I don’t know why they deceive us, feed us lies mislead us

He who denies what he has seen is worse than blind believers

I just play the cards the way they’re dealt”

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

JOHNSON: ”We have a big one for our main event folks!”

VASSA: ”I don’t think big can even describe this match coming up. We have Flipp-Hop coming off a huge win over the 4CW Tag Team Champions two weeks ago.”

JOHNSON: ”That was huge for them in fact. Jair has now beaten the Pride champion, the 4CW champion and with the help of Flipp, he’s beaten the Tag Team champions. Tonight him and Flipp will step into the ring with the 4CW and Extreme champions in this whacky match planned to end our show.”

VASSA: ”If anyone has the momentum heading into the Warzone of Horrors it’s Jair. He’s beaten every champion in 4CW leading up to it except for the Extreme champ, Dakota. A win here tonight will give him a win over every single 4CW champion at one time or another leading up to Fright Night.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m still scratching my head on how the partnership of Jair and Flipp will be affected going into the match with both of them fighting for the same prize.”

VASSA: ”It’s going to be very interesting to watch. Wallace threw a curveball with that announcement but I can’t think of two other guys who deserve it more than both Flipp and Hopkins.”

“Dance With the Devil” begins to play over the sound system, the lights go dim as the theatre gets filled with a mix of boos and cheers. Out of the back comes Dakota Smith, a snarl on his face and the 4CW Extreme Championship wrapped around his neck. He glares out over the arena, cracking his neck to the left and then to the right. Dakota then begins his march down to the ring.

“I eat M.C’s because I dont like to waste,

love to hear em’ screaming and the way the blood taste, all over my face

new race of cannibal, hell hath no fury like a half man animal.

Suck my dick, I got enough for all of yall,

Yall can jump on it, hang on it like its mardi gras

I’m rawer than all of yall, rot like gangrene.

Eco lion come up quiet and kill the whole scene

Yes, I guess you could say i’m poisonous

Not even the devil has more poise than this.

Yeah i’ll be that guy that even though i’m half your size

You dont want to look me in the eyes “

POWERS: ”Making his way down to the ring from The Depths of Hell, he weighs in at two hundred thirty one pounds and stands six feet, two inches tall. He is “The Butcher” and 4CW Extreme Champion, DAKOTA SSMMIITTHH!!!”

Reaching the ring he takes the belt off of his neck and throws it into the ring before rolling in under the bottom rope. Planting his fist into the ground he pushes himself up off the mat and picks up his championship. He stalks the ring for a few seconds before going up the turnbuckle and raising his extreme championship up into the air – letting out a blood curdling roar as he does so. He drops down and takes a seat in the corner, putting the belt back around his neck and waiting for the match to start.

“Can you feel that….?”

“Scream” by Thousand Foot Krutch fills the arena sound system, the crowd coming unglued with a mixture of cheers and jeers just as “Scream” pours out of the speakers. There’s still no sign of the 4CW Champion as little gold sparklers come raining down from the top of the stage, the crowd anxiously awaiting the arrival of Felicity Banks.

“Can you feel that…?”

The soft voice of Felicity Banks echos throughout the arena as the Queen comes out from behind the curtain to a monstrous ovation, the 4CW Championship wrapped around her right shoulder. She has a smug smirk on her face as she makes her way through the gold sparklers, her arms extended out to her sides and a blowpop in her mouth. She looks disinterested as she pulls the blowpop out of her and mouth, slowly pacing down the ramp, spinning around to show the camera the “Queen B” writing on the back of her sleeveless sweatshirt. Once halfway down the ramp, Felicity glances at the fans at ringside, pulls the 4CW Championship from her shoulder, and holds it high in the air as Mike Powers announces her name.


Felicity drapes the championship against her shoulder and saunters up the ringside steps. Once on the apron, Felicity walks dead center and turns to look at the crowd, feeding off of their cheers and jeers. She enters the ring and spins around in circles until the lights in the arena start getting brighter, not stopping until the arena was fully lit. Felicity unzips her sweatshirt and glances at crowd, finally climbing up to the middle rope. She stares out into the crowd and motions for the crowd to bow down to her to which some oblige, and raises the 4CW Championship high in the air as the audience bows down.

She hops off the ropes and turns around, locking eyes with Dakota only a few feet away. The two stare at one another for a few moments before Dakota turns his attention to both Hopkins and Flipp across the ring.

VASSA: ”I thought they had a connection right there.”

JOHNSON: ”You would think so but I’m willing to bet there’s no connection.”

VASSA: ”Come on, Steve, be optimistic. There’s love in the air.”

JOHNSON: ”I highly doubt there’s any love in the air. We’re talking about the man who lives by the words, everything dies.”

VASSA: ”We’re also talking about the 4CW Champion, the Queen B, Felicity goddamn Banks!”

JOHNSON: ”This is an odd pairing to say the least. Both of these wrestlers will have their belts on the line at Fright Night in the Warzone of Horrors. At the end of the night, these two could literally switch spots in the championship rankings.”

VASSA: ”I know that’s what Dakota would like. Hell, he probably doesn’t want to lose the Extreme Championship in the process.”

JOHNSON: ”Anything can happen. The Extreme Championship can switch hands multiple times until the 4CW Championship is taken from its harness above the ring.”

VASSA: ”Enough with the blah, blah, blah… Let’s get this thing underway. The sooner this match is over, the sooner Fright Night will be here. And we still don’t have a sixth name for the Warzone of Horrors!”

JOHNSON: ”Mr. Wallace dropped the ball apparently. I won’t put all the blame on him. He is short handed on management at the moment with the disappearance of our GM, Brody Lee.”

VASSA: ”Brody’s probably tied to a table at Dakota’s and that’s no joke. This match has been fucked from the beginning. First we started with eight people, then we went to six. The way things are looking, we’re going to drop down yet again with five people.”

JOHNSON: ”Don’t give up hope yet, Vinny. We still have three weeks until Fright Night to name the sixth and final person.”

VASSA: ”It would be nice to know now so we could have something to talk about but that’s just my opinion, take it for what it’s worth.”

Hopkins and Flipp talk amongst themselves in their corner while the ref looks on. After a few moments pass, Hopkins steps through the ropes and onto the apron, leaving Flipp to start the match. Meanwhile, Dakota and Banks just stare at one another with their championships in hand. Dakota then snatches the 4CW Championship away from Banks and raises it and the Extreme Championship above his head.

JOHNSON: ”He snatched the championship right out of Felicity’s hands!”

VASSA: ”Like taking candy from a baby!”

JOHNSON: ”This could literally happen in three weeks at Fright Night and not just for Dakota, but anyone could walk away with both championships.”

VASSA: ”Aside from the constant fuck ups with numbers going into this Warzone of Horrors, I do like the new element added this year with introducing an extreme aspect and the Extreme Championship.”

JOHNSON: ”It definitely is exciting just thinking about it.”

Dakota then throws both championships over the top rope and down to the floor. With their eyes still locked, Banks and Dakota continue to stare at one another as the noise level in the arena grows louder and louder. Dakota then turns away from Banks and climbs through the ropes and onto the apron, leaving Felicity surprised for a brief moment. She then looks across the ring, turning her head but not her back to Dakota.

VASSA: ”That’s right, Felicity, don’t turn your back to him. Remember what happened to the last partner who was in the ring with him. Everything dies.”

The official then checks with each corner, getting the nod from both Flipp and Banks that they are ready for things to begin. Slowly raising his hand into the air, the official then swings it downward, signaling for the bell.


As the chime comes to a silence, Both Banks and Flipp slowly approach each other in the center of the ring. Looking each other up and down for a moment, the two then circle the ring, waiting to see who strikes first. The two then lock up but before a battle even begins, Flipp quickly plants his knee into Banks’ stomach, knocking the breath from her and follows up by pulling her head down into a side headlock. Just as he goes to crank down the pressure, Banks drives her feet with one hand planted into his back and then pushes him away, sending him towards the ropes. After coming back on the rebound, Flipp gets caught with a spinning kick to the stomach that sends him stumbling backwards and down to the canvas.

Holding his stomach and gasping for air, Flipp rolls over to his side. Banks then takes off from stand still and rushes in before jumping into the air and coming down with a knee to the side of his ribs. Back on her feet, Banks then grabs ahold of Flipp’s head and pulls him up only to then slap him across the chest with a stinging open hand chop. Grabbing him by the wrist with both hands, she then uses all of her strength to throw him to the ropes behind her but before she can let go, Flipp reverses and whips her instead. As Felicity comes back with speed, Flipp lifts her up from her feet and then drops her to the mat with a sidewalk slam. With her leg already in his clutches, he then hooks it and goes for the quick pin.





From across the ring, Dakota breaks up the pinfall with a kick to the back of Flipp’s head. Hopkins then rushes in catches Dakota by surprise with a backhand chop across the chest followed by another and another, backing Dakota against the ropes. The official quickly forces himself between the two and begins the five count.

“One! … Two!”

Both then back away from each other and go to their corners to exit the ring just before the ref gets to five. Meanwhile, Flipp climbs to his feet while Banks’ is just now rolling over to her stomach. Grabbing her by the arm and shoulder, Flipp pulls her up to both feet and then wraps both arms around her, pulling her in closely. After locking his hands behind her back, he then lifts her up from her feet and drives her into the canvas with a belly to belly suplex.

JOHNSON: ”Flipp clearly has the size advantage over Felicity and is using it in his favor.”

VASSA: ”Just about everyone in 4CW has the size advantage over Felicity but that doesn’t stop the champ. She’s been a force to be reckoned with ever since signing with 4CW. Against all odds, she finds a way to overcome challenges week in and week out.”

JOHNSON: ”You’re right about that, Vinny. She may not be the biggest but she makes up with it with her quickness and determination.”

: ”She just needs to find an opportunity now to use that quickness and turn this thing around.”

Pushing himself back up, Flipp then grabs ahold of Banks and pulls her up as well. Keeping her head held down, he slowly walks her over to his corner where Hopkins reaches over the top rope for the tag. Slapping hands, they make the official tag and as Hopkins enters the ring, Flipp keeps his grip on Banks’ head, holding her in place until his partner can take control.

After letting Hopkins take control of Banks, Flipp then exits the ring. Pulling Banks’ head up, Hopkins winds up and plants a closed fist across the top of her head. He then locks onto her wrist with both hands and whips her to the corner across the ring. After colliding into the corner with force, Banks’ feet lift up from the canvas and as the touch back down, Hopkins takes off from the other side of the ring. After gaining quite a bit of speed, Hopkins leaps into the air and aims his feet for Banks’ stomach. At the last split second, Banks rolls out of the way as Hopkins lands on the middle padding of the turnbuckle. Wobbling a bit, Hopkins is off balance as he quickly grabs the top ropes to regain it. Back on her feet, Banks then grabs him by the back of the pants and pulls him away from the corner, ripping his grip from the ropes and slamming him back first to the mat for the quick rollup.




JOHNSON: ”Hopkins kicks out!”

Not wasting anytime to question the count, Banks pushes herself back up to her feet. She then grabs ahold of Hopkins’ head with both hands and slowly drags him to his. With his head held down in her clutches, she then delivers repeated knees to his face, ringing his bell with each landed strike. She then pulls his head up and then drops to a sit-out position, pulling Hopkins’ head down onto the top of her head with a jawbreaker. With Hopkins down on the canvas, Banks slowly climbs to her feet before pacing around the ring for a moment. Turning her attention back to Hopkins, she then closes in on him with a running stomp to the stomach. Pulling him up to his feet, she then whips him to her corner where Dakota looks on, eager to get in on the action.

After crashing into the corner, Hopkins holds himself up with his arms spread across the top ropes. From behind, Dakota swings his arm up and over, slamming his forearm into Hopkins’ chest. He then grabs Hopkins head with both hands, digging his fingers into each eye, and pulls his head over the top rope. The ref quickly rushes over as he begins the five count.

“One … Two! … Three! … Four! … Fi–”

Dakota then releases his hold of Hopkins head, leaving him to drop to both knees in the corner and rubbing his eyes after being blinded. Standing face to face with Dakota, the ref gives him a warning for the illegal move, yelling fiercely with comfort due to the ropes being between the two. Stepping in beside the ref, Banks looks on, ignoring Hopkins who isn’t a factor. Ignoring the ref, Dakota then swings over the ropes and slaps Banks in the side of the shoulder with a nasty sound that cuts over the noise from the crowd. Shocked at what just happens, the ref quickly recognizes the slap as a tag, leaving Banks furious. Dakota then enters the ring through the ropes and before he can stand straight up, Banks confronts him as the two then argue back and forth. Looking on for a moment, the ref then begins the five count, yelling into Banks’ ear who is not the legal wrestler.

“One! … Two! … Three!”

Shaking her head, Banks then turns to the ropes and climbs through them onto the apron. Dakota then looks down at Hopkins, still blinded and rubbing his eyes from the dirty tactics used moments earlier. Grabbing him by the head, Dakota pulls Hopkins up to his feet. Dakota then slams him into the corner with all of his strength, rattling the entire ring. Barely able to hold himself up, Hopkins leaves his mid-section open for Dakota to attack with wild repeated kicks, slowly breaking him down until finally in a seated position with his back against the turnbuckle. Taking a few steps backwards, Dakota then runs forward and jumps into the air, planting both feet into Hopkins face and knocking his head back against the middle padding with a dropkick.

VASSA: ”Dakota’s knocking Jair’s head around like a pinball!”

JOHNSON: ”That’s a bad position for Jair to be in and Dakota is taking full advantage of it.”

VASSA: ”Hopkin’s is going to feel that tomorrow in his neck after that whiplash! Luckily for him there’s padding on the turnbuckle to somewhat cushion that blow to the back of the head.”

Back on his feet, Dakota looks down at Hopkins and spits on him before grabbing onto his leg and pulling him away from the corner. After dragging him to the center of the ring, Dakota lifts him leg up and then kicks him in the back of the thigh. With both hands gripped tightly around Hopkins’ ankle, Dakota then slams it down into the canvas with force. Jumping into the air, Dakota plants both feet into Hopkins’ chest with a double foot stomp. Not in a hurry to get off of him, Dakota then bends over and slaps Hopkins across the mouth.

Stepping down to the mat, Dakota then lifts Jair up. After turning him around, Dakota wraps his arms around Jair’s waist and locks his hands. Lifting him up from his feet, Dakota then goes for a German suplex but before the two begin to go downward to the mat, Hopkins breaks out of the hold and rolls over Dakota’s and down to his feet. After quickly spinning around, Dakota takes a swing for Jair’s head but misses as Jair ducks down, lifts him up and then drops him to the mat with a Samoan drop. With Dakota down for a moment, Jair quickly gets back to his feet and then jumps straight into the air only to come down with a legdrop across Dakota’s throat.

JOHNSON: ”In moments like that it’s good to be smaller than your opponent. With Jair’s smaller size, he was able to squirm his way out of that German suplex attempt and turn things around.”

VASSA: ”He surely caught Dakota off guard after dodging that haymaker!”

Once back on his feet, Hopkins grabs ahold of Dakota’s arm and pulls him up. Locking onto his wrist, Hopkins then whips him to his corner where Flipp looks on from the apron. Standing back for a moment, Hopkins watches as Dakota crashes into the corner and then takes off in the blink of an eye. Once in range, Jair leaps into the air and connects with a body splash. After slowly coming down to his feet, Hopkins steps out of the way, leaving Dakota nothing to stop him as he falls forward, face first to the mat.

With Dakota down, Hopkins and Flipp slap hands, initiating the tag. From the outside, Flipp climbs the corner and stands at the top while Hopkins exits through the ropes. Leaping straight into the air, Porter does a front flip and as he comes down, he connects with a frog splash that ignites the entire crowd in attendance. Hooking the leg, Flipp then goes for the pin as the ref sweeps in for the count.









JOHNSON: ”Talk about being in the right place at the right time!”

VASSA: ”Flipp could have had the match sealed if they weren’t so close to the corner.”

JOHNSON: ”Man, that was close!”

Popping his head up and looking to the rope in disappointment, Flipp just shakes his head back and forth at the sight of Dakota’s foot resting upon it. Not letting it get to him, he then pushes himself up from Dakota and stands over him for a moment in disgust. He then grabs Dakota by the head with both hands and rolls him over to his stomach and then up to his feet. He then hooks his arm around Dakota’s head and grabs the back of his pants. With Dakota set up for a suplex, Flipp goes to lift him up but quickly gets stopped as Dakota hooks his leg around his. Delivering a quick punch to the side of the ribs, Flipp forces Dakota to pull his leg away and then goes to lift him up once more. As Dakota raises up from the mat, he then kicks his legs straight out and plants them into Jair’s chest, knocking him down from the apron. With the sudden movement of Dakota, Flipp drops him back down to his feet only to then get lifted up from his as Dakota wraps his arms around him.

With Flipp raised into the air, Dakota runs towards the center of the ring and then jumps into the air, dropping Flipp with a sit-out spinebuster. Dakota then rolls over to his side and the two looks up at the ceiling, catching their breaths as the ref begins the ten count.

“One! … Two! … Three!”

The two then slowly begin to get to their feet as the count continues.

“Four! … Five!”

As both men get to their knees, Dakota then falls back over to his side, out of breath after exerting all of his energy to take Flipp down. Flipp then stands up as the ref stops the count.

VASSA: ”Flipp was the one on the receiving end of that spinebuster but the first to get up. How does that even work?”

JOHNSON: ”It was a desperation move by Dakota and apparently depleted the tank.”

VASSA: ”Well with The Butcher down, Flipp better take advantage of this and put him away while there’s still a chance.”

Looking over at Dakota struggling to get back to his feet, Flipp quickly goes on the attack and hits him over the head with a forearm. After knocking Dakota down to the canvas, Flipp then grabs him by the head and pulls him up only to deliver a knee to the stomach, forcing him to lunge over. Flipp then raises his arm into the air and slams his elbow down on the back of his head, knocking him down to one knee. Flipp then pulls him back up to his feet and goes to whip him to the ropes behind them but Dakota reverse the throw and sends Flipp instead. After hitting the ropes and coming back with speed, Flipp takes a swing for Dakota’s head but misses as he ducks underneath, continuing to the ropes in front of him. Bouncing off hard with the rebound, Flipp then charges towards Dakota yet again but this time gets taken down to the mat, face first with a drop toe hold.

Popping back to his feet with a new found burst of energy, Dakota goes on the rampage and stomps Flipp’s back before he can even begin to get up. Pulling him up to his feet, Dakota then throws him to his corner where Banks’ stands on the apron. After watching Flipp crash into the corner, Dakota then charges towards him. Ducking his head, he aims for Flipp’s stomach like a battering ram. Moving out of the way at the last moment, Flipp avoids the impact of Dakota’s head, leaving him to go through the ropes and slam it against the ring post instead. Banks then reaches over the top rope and slaps Dakota across the back, initiating a tag in plain sight of the ref.

Before Banks can enter the ring, Flipp pulls Dakota away from the corner and then tosses him over the ropes and down to the outside floor. Turning around, he then catches a foot to the stomach from Banks . Grabbing Flipp by the head, she then flips him over to his back with a snapmare and rolling him to a seated position. Turning to the ropes, she then takes off towards them and after coming back on the rebound, she plants both feet into his back with a drop kick.

VASSA: ”The Queen is in control!”

JOHNSON: ”I like the fact that she gave Dakota a taste of his own medicine by tagging herself in.”

VASSA: ”She had to! He just went head first into the ring post. For the sake of winning the match she had to take matters into her own hands.”

With Flipp down on his back, Banks then turns to the corner and quickly makes her way towards it. Ascending to the top, she slowly turns around to face him only to stop for a moment and look over the arena.

JOHNSON: ”Hold up!”

VASSA: ”What the hell?!”

Climbing onto the apron, Dakota pushes Banks from the top, sending her crashing to the canvas.

VASSA: ”What the hell is he doing?!”

JOHNSON: ”He’s turning on his partner! We’ve seen this before!”

VASSA: ”We sure have but this time the partner has something that he wants! Everything dies?”

Climbing through the ropes, Dakota then charges Banks and kicks her in the side of the head before she can get up. He then turns his attention to Flipp and quickly jumps on top of him. Wrapping his hands around Flipp’s throat, Dakota then begins to choke the life out of him as the ref fights to get in between them.

JOHNSON: ”Help him, Hopkins!”

Racing from the other side of the ring, Hopkins tackles Dakota, knocking him off of Flipp. As the two roll across the ring, the ref then begins the five count.

“One! … Two!”

Back on their feet, Banks and Flipp look on for a moment before turning to each other and exchanging lefts and rights.

“Three! … Four!”

Looking back and forth at the action on both sides of the ring, the ref pauses for a slight moment before finally finishing the count.


JOHNSON: ”There’s the count! Both Dakota and Jair have cost their teams the match by being in the ring too long and not being the legal wrestler.”

VASSA: ”All hell is breaking loose, Steve!”


POWERS: ”Due to a double count, the match has been determined as a no contest!”

With Jair and Dakota fighting with one another on the canvas, Flipp and Banks continue to exchange blows, ignoring the refs pleas for them to stop.


JOHNSON: ”I had a feeling that this match was going to take a turn for the worst with Fright Night just around the corner.”

VASSA: ”At this rate I don’t know if we’ll make it to Fri–“

JOHNSON: ”Here comes Bronx Valescence down to the ring!”

VASSA: ”Things are starting to pick up!”

Sliding into the ring, Bronx pops up to his feet and charges Banks and Flipp, knocking them both down with a double clothesline.

JOHNSON: ”Here we go! Bronx might just clean house!”

With Banks and Flipp down, Bronx then turns their attention to Hopkins and Dakota still rolling around the ring, beating the life out of one another. Taking that first step towards them, Bronx stops in his tracks as the crowd erupts.


JOHNSON: ”Wait a second… is that… IT’S JASON CASHE!!!”

VASSA: ”What the hell is he doing out here?!”

JOHNSON: ”I think a better questions is what is he doing with that steel chair in hand?”

Standing at the top of the ramp with a chair in hand, Cashe looks down towards the arena as the crowd roars in excitement.

VASSA: ”He sure seems to have Bronx’s attention.”

JOHNSON: ”He’s the only one who knows Cashe has come out here! Flipp and Banks are still down while Dakota and Jair are still trying to rip each other apart.”

Staring up the ramp at Cashe, Bronx waves for him to come down to the ring. After looking over the crowd for guidance, Cashe then slams the chair against the stage, sending a metal clanking noise cutting through the cheers. He then roars at the top of his lungs before taking off and charging down the ramp.

JOHNSON: ”We have a fight on our hands now, well an even bigger fight about to break out!”

VASSA: ”Bronx isn’t even backing down either! He won the over the top rope rumble earlier and earned his spot in the Warzone of Horrors. Cashe isn’t even in this match but he sure as shit isn’t backing down!”

JOHNSON: ”Here we go!”

Sliding into the ring, Cashe pops up to his feet, clenching the chair tightly with both hands. Screaming across the ring at Bronx, Cashe points the chair at him before turning around and smacking it on top of the turnbuckle. Charging forward, Cashe takes a swing at Bronx’s head but misses as he ducks out of the way. As Cashe then quickly turns around to take another swing, Bronx then drop kicks the chair, knocking it back into Cashe’s face.


VASSA: ”Cashe is down! Bronx avoided the headshot and used that chair in Cashe’s clutches against him!”

With the chair lying a few feet away from Cashe, Bronx quickly picks it up and grips onto the legs tightly with both hands. Raising it above his head, Bronx goes to swing it downward only to get caught off guard as Flipp reaches in from behind and rips it away from his hands.

JOHNSON: ”Whoa now! Flipp has taken the chair into his possession!”


Grabbing onto Flipp’s shoulder, Banks quickly spins him around and then follows up with a swift kick to the stomach, forcing him to lunge over as the chair drops to the canvas. She then jumps into the air, wraps her arm around his head and plants it into the chair with a jumping DDT!

JOHNSON: ”Space Jam DDT on top of the chair!”


With his eyes locked on Banks, Bronx waits for the right moment to attack before she can get back up to her feet. After getting up to one knee, Bronx then steps forward to charge but quickly gets pushes aside as Cashe runs right past him. Just as Banks looks up across the ring, Cashe then tackles her to the canvas and climbs on top of her. After a short struggle to throw him aside, Banks then catches a stiff elbow to the jaw, sending her head spinning sideways and her face smacking the canvas.

Across the ring, Dakota finally gains control of the situation as he mounts himself on top of Hopkins with both his shoulders pressed down to the mat. He then turns his head only to be surprised at everything else that has transpired. With his eyes widening, he then pushes himself up from Hopkins and turns away from him. With a look of relief on his face, Hopkins leans up only to see the rest of the action for himself, watching as Dakota slowly creeps up behind Bronx.

With Cashe on top of Banks going wild with gorilla styled fist attacks, Bronx looks on, waiting for the opportune time to strike. From behind, Dakota grabs him by the shoulder and then spins him around only to then follow up with a kick to the stomach. After forcing Bronx to lunge over, Dakota quickly grabs his head and pulls it between his legs. Hooking both arms, Dakota then lifts Bronx upside down and drops him head first to the canvas with a double underhook piledriver.

JOHNSON: ”Manson Family Driver!”

Before Dakota can get back to his feet, Hopkins quickly moves in and hits him over the back of the head with double axe handle, knocking him down to the canvas. Hopkins then looks to the corner where Cashe continues his assault on the 4CW Champion. Moving in behind him, Hopkins grabs two handfuls of hair and drags him away from Banks. With Hopkins leaned over top of him, Cashe then kicks his leg up and plants his foot into his forehead, knocking him backwards and stumbling to the mat. In a rush to get to their feet, Hopkins and Cashe race one another. Making it up first, Cashe then charges towards and swings with a wild clothesline, missing as Hopkins rolls out of the way. On the other side, Dakota then grabs Cashe by the throat with one hand and pulls him in closely, looking into his eyes while choking the life out of him.

VASSA: ”The Butcher has Cashe right where he wants him!”

JOHNSON: ”Hold up, what is Cashe doing?!”

Reaching into his pants, Cashe pulls out a dirty sock that appears to have something inside of it. Squeezing his grip around it tightly, Cashe then swings his hand up and hits Dakota upside the head with it, breaking his hold around his throat and knocking him down to mat.

JOHNSON: ”What the heck?!”

VASSA: ”Cashe just laid the Extreme Champion out!”

JOHNSON: ”He hit him with a sock full of loose change and the side of Dakota’s head is busted wide open!”

Bleeding all over the canvas, Dakota holds his head while down on his back. Hopkins then charges Cashe and hits him in the back of the shoulder with a forearm smash. Spinning around quickly, Cashe swings the sock for Hopkins’ head but misses as he ducks underneath and counters with a stiff punch to the stomach. In a last resort, Cashe lunges forward at Hopkins and wraps him up, driving him across the ring and slamming him into the corner. With Hopkins back pinned to the corner, Cashe then draws back with the sock in hand but before he can swing forward, Banks locks onto his arm with both hands and pulls him away.

Back on his feet, Flipp then races in behind both of them and grabs ahold of Cashe, helping subdue him before he can lay anyone else out with the secret contents of the sock. Struggling to break free, Cashe slowly wears himself down as both Banks and Flipp hold him back with an arm in each of their clutches. Bronx then runs into the picture and wraps an arm around Cashe’s throat, applying a chokehold. With all three holding him back, Cashe fights to break free with Hopkins dead in his sights.

JOHNSON: ”I think we may finally have some order in the ring now that Cashe has been contained.”

VASSA: ”I wouldn’t be so sure about that!”

Back on his feet, Dakota grabs the steel chair in the ring and looks down at it as blood splatters onto it. With everyone’s back turned to him and Hopkin’s view obstructed, Dakota looks to the cluster of people as an evil look comes over his face. He then begins to shake the chair rapidly while locking his eyes on four individuals backs. Taking his first step towards them, the crowd then erupts into cheers once more as security rushes out from the back and down the ramp.

VASSA: ”NNOOO!!! Let the madness continue!”

Sliding into the ring from all angles, a team of ten security guards close in on the chaos. Dakota then takes a swing and lays one out with a shot to the head. Turning to his right, he then lays out another security guard with a shot to the head. With the rage flowing through him, he then turns his attention to another security guard getting to his feet. Drawing the chair over his head with both hands, Dakota then goes to swing for his head only to get bombarded by two other security guards. Ripping the chair away from him, the two security guards quickly subdue him, tackling him to the canvas and holding him down with everything they’ve got.

Meanwhile, the other five members of security left standing force themselves in between everyone else, each taking a wrestler for themselves and spreading them all apart. With everyone trying to break free and get back into mayhem, the crowd then erupts with boos, grabbing their attention and directing it towards the entrance stage.

JOHNSON: ”They’ve done it now! It’s Perry Wallace!”

VASSA: ”What is he doing out here and why the security?! He couldn’t come down here himself and break up this riot?”

JOHNSON: ”He’d be lying in a puddle of his own blood by now if he came down here alone. One person couldn’t stop this carnage in the ring!”

Standing at the top of the ramp with everyone’s attention, Wallace points to the ring while shaking his head back and forth with a grin from ear to ear. Soaking in the boos of the crowd, he lets them continue for a moment before slowly raising the mic to his mouth and screaming into it.



WALLACE: ”Now hold on a damn second! I don’t care if you people want to listen to what I have to say but one way or another I’m going to have your undivided attention!”

Looking over the arena, Wallace waits a few moments as the boos slowly start to die down. Once the arena has come to complete silence, he then raises the mic back to his lips with his eyes locked on the ring.

WALLACE: ”Thank you. Was that so damn hard?”

“Now I’ve been watching from the back as all hell has broken loose here in the ring tonight. I understand five of you have plans in three weeks to meet each other inside of the Warzone of Horrors but damn, save some for Fright Night. Let’s not kill each other prematurely and ruin the show for everyone!”

“Five people have been announced for this match, one being the 4CW Champion, Felicity Banks! Then we have Jair Hopkins, Lo’Renzo Porter, the 4CW Extreme Champion, Dakota Smith and as of earlier tonight Bronx Valescence will be joining this match of destruction. Five people… five, not six, but five. We all know this whole process has been one clusterfuck since the beginning and I’m not ashamed to admit that. Everyone knows the current matches we have on the card and that the names have been somewhat limited. it is what it is.”

“So… I’ve been stressing out on who will be the sixth piece to this puzzle at Fright Night. Believe me, it hasn’t been an easy task. I’ve been sitting back, hoping that someone would stick out and catch my attention, making it clear that they deserve to be in this match. This isn’t a match for anyone. This is a match for the individuals who are willing to put it all on the line, willing to sacrifice themselves for the ultimate prize in 4CW and the wrestling industry.”

“Two championships, the 4CW and the Extreme both on the line and up for grabs to anyone willing to take that next step to greatness. As I said two weeks ago, this match is going to be pure hell on each and every single person involved. Within the cage it’s going to be total carnage, hell on earth! Outside of the cage, you’re going to have to put it all on the line to ascend to the heavens and touch greatness for yourself.”

Lowering the mic from his mouth, Wallace then slowly walks to the other side of the stage. He looks over the crowd as the watch in silence, hanging on his every word. Turning his attention to the other side of the arena, Wallace then walks to the opposite side of the stage. Stopping at the edge, he looks over the crowd, again waiting in silence. Slowly turning his attention back to the ring, Wallace raises the mic back to his mouth.

WALLACE: ”So, who’s the sixth person to enter the Fright Night Warzone of Horrors?”

“Earlier tonight we witnessed a certain individual snap inside of that very ring. With a shot for the Pride Championship on the line, he threw it all away for something greater than any belt. Wins and championships come and go, but leaving a lasting impression on those who oppose you in the ring lives on forever. This same individual decided to show his face again as all hell broke loose in the ring during the main event. I spoke briefly with his manager earlier tonight, as well as with him and things weren’t quite clear on where his head was in 4CW, but after what I saw, at the beginning and end of the show, I can’t think of another person more fitting for this sixth spot in the Warzone of Horrors than JASON CASHE!!!”

The crowd then erupts with cheers as the last person has finally named for the main event at Fright Night. Nodding his head, Wallace looks over the area with a smile on his face, pleased with the reaction of the fans.

JOHNSON: ”Jason Cashe will be in the Warzone of Horrors! He’s the sixth man!”

VASSA: ”Wait a second! Don’t get me wrong, I like Cashe, but I thought he said after Ante Up he would walk away from the 4CW Championship if he didn’t retain.”

JOHNSON: ”He did Vinny, but this match has a different aspect to it now with the Extreme Championship now in the mix. There’s no telling what’s going through his mind but after things we’ve seen here tonight, Cashe has started to show a bit of an extreme side to say the least.”

Raising the mic back to his mouth, Wallace clears his throat, signaling for the fans to simmer down.

WALLACE: ”So there you have it, the final piece to the puzzle that is nothing other than the Warzone of Horrors! Six people will enter the cage and at least four will walk away empty handed. You heard me! I said at least four will walk away empty handed. We could very well see one person leave Fright Night with both the 4CW and Extreme Championships! The only thing left to do now is wait because the time is almost here for everyone involved to enter the cage and leave a piece of yourself behind for all eternity!”

Dropping his hand to his side with the mic clenched tightly, Wallace stares at the ring for a moment, taking a nice long look at each individual while still restrained by security. He then turns his back to the ring and proceeds towards the back, leaving everything behind and everyone shocked at the announcement.

JOHNSON: ”There you go, Vinny! The match is now set in stone and the wrestlers have been chosen!”

VASSA: ”This match was already huge to begin with but now with Cashe as an element, things have been taken up a notch!”

JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen him acting out with his choice of weapons tonight. I know there are a few in the match that don’t exactly fit the Extreme bill but Jason Cashe surely does.”

VASSA: ”Extreme and hardcore wrestling is no stranger to Cashe. I’ve been fortunate enough to call a few of his matches years ago when he made it a staple in his career. We know what he can do as the 4CW Champion. Just imagine what he’s capable of as the Extreme Champion.”

JOHNSON: ”I know Dakota has his sights set on the 4CW Championship but with Cashe now a factor in this match, he has to rethink his gameplan a bit. We’ve seen Cashe use multiple weapons here tonight so one can only think he’s making a push for the Extreme Championship.”

VASSA: ”There’s really no telling what’s going through his mind. With a chance to take the 4CW Championship, he could easily chase it. All six of these wrestlers in this match could very well walk away the new 4CW or Extreme Champion.”

JOHNSON: ”Felicity is going to do everything she can to make sure that she retains. She already went through one heck of a match at Ante Up to win the championship and I’m sure she’s willing to push even harder to retain.”

VASSA: ”Let’s not forget about Jair! He’s held the 4CW Championship once before. Once you get a taste of that gold, you’re always going to want to taste it again.”

JOHNSON: ”Flipp is a former Pride Champion. Either route he decides to go is something new for him. He’s definitely capable of stepping up to whichever championship. It’s only a matter of how far he’s willing to go and what he’s willing to put himself through.”

VASSA: ”Bronx is one of the newest people to sign with 4CW. He was given the opportunity to step up with sort of a wildcard. I would say he’s the one wrestler that everyone is the least familiar with so he could surprise us all and steal the entire show.”

JOHNSON: ”And then we have The Butcher himself, Dakota Smith!”

VASSA: ”He said he wanted more and this is his opportunity to take it. He’s been a force to be reckoned with in the Extreme Division and I’m sure he’ll be an even greater one at the top of the food chain. This is going to be a bloodbath!”

JOHNSON: ”The ropes are going to be barbed wire. We’re literally going to need medics at ringside because this is going to be something straight out of a scene from the movie Saw.”

VASSA: ”I love those movies! I CAN’T WAIT!!!”

JOHNSON: ”We only have three more weeks ahead of us and then Fright Night will be here just days before Halloween. And on that note, I’m getting word that we’re out of time folks.”


JOHNSON: ”Indeed we are, Vinny. This brawl has taken us over the time slow and we now must come to an end.”

VASSA: ”It sucks but then again, it only brings us even closer to Fright Night!”

JOHNSON: ”That’s exactly right! Well folks, it’s been a wild night for us all. We’ve seen quite a few crazy things take place but the show must come to an end. Be sure to tune in to Fright Night in three weeks as we travel to Brooklyn, New York and tear the roof off of Barclay’s Center.”

VASSA: ”It’s going to be one hell of a party!”

JOHNSON: ”You can say that again! Well for 4CW, I’m Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good night everyone!”

In the ring, security still has the situation under control, holding everyone away from each other as the tension boils. With everything somewhat contained, the scene slowly fades to black as the sounds of the crowd are the only thing left before transitioning into guitars.