---

ADRENALINE E34 [055]
BANKERS LIFE FIELDHOUSE INDIANAPOLIS, INDIANA
NOVEMBER 24TH, 2015

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

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! Welcome to the show!”

JOHNSON: ”We have an exciting night planned for you all watching from home and for those in attendance.”

VASSA: ”We have a little extreme action in the lineup I see.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s right! To kick off the night, Nick Watson will go head to head with the 4CW Extreme Champion, Jason Cashe!”

VASSA: ”That’s going to be a brutal match, I can already tell. After seeing what he did to secure that championship at Fright Night, I have a feeling that may be the beginning of many things to come.”

JOHNSON: ”Let’s just hope that he doesn’t get any ideas and destroy our booth tonight.”

VASSA: ”That would be a bad way to start the evening for us. I sure as shit ain’t standing all night.”

JOHNSON: ”We’ll also see Cyrus Riddle and Lord Raab get their hands dirt in some extreme action later in the night.”

VASSA: ”This is going to be an interesting one to see. Lord Raab is one tough son of a bitch. He’s been in his share of extreme matches in 4CW. Hell, he’s even challenged for the Extreme Championship in the past. He’s changed his look, this could be the match that kick starts him back in the right direction… to a path of destruction.”

JOHNSON: ”It isn’t going to be a walk in the park for him by any means. Cyrus Riddle has proven that he’s capable of doing destruction in the ring himself. We’ve seen him in action with both singles and tag team, but tonight we’ll see him in extreme action for the first time in 4CW. This has the makings to tear this entire arena down!”

VASSA: ”We’ll also get to see CJ O’Donnell in action tonight for the first time since signing fulltime with 4CW.”

JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen a lot of him lately making guest appearances and the powers that be have finally signed the man to a fulltime deal. Things are starting to heat up around here.”

VASSA: ”It’s no coincidence that Unstable forms within 4CW and he’s signed to a contract at the same time. I don’t know what’s to come but I’m willing to bet that whatever it is, it will make a huge impact.”

JOHNSON: ”Later tonight we’ll see Jett Wilder and Drew Stevenson square off with something big on the line. They’ll both be competing for the number one contender spot for the 4CW Pride Championship.”

VASSA: ”Two weeks ago we witnessed Drew snap the former Pride Champion’s leg. It was unfortunate to see Seamus suffer from that injury. Aside from getting a hefty fine, this put Drew in the spotlight to contend for the championship.”

JOHNSON: ”As annoying as Jett can be, I just hope we don’t see a double take from two weeks ago. Jett may have a big mouth but the last thing I want to see if his leg being next on Drew’s list.”

VASSA: ”If we’re lucky he would just break Jett’s mouth.”

JOHNSON: ”In out headline tonight, Chris Madison will climb into the ring with the Pride Champion, John Austin.”

VASSA: ”The championship isn’t on the line in this one. Madison has been hot since signing with 4CW. I don’t know how many times we can say that each and every week. The man comes to the ring programmed to destroy. We already have the contender match but a win for him tonight would definitely put his name in the mix.”

JOHNSON: ”This could be a very important match for John too. He wasn’t in action two weeks ago. His last match was at Fright Night when he won the championship. A win over a tough competitor like Madison will keep his momentum rolling as he approaches the title match with either Drew or Jett.”

VASSA: ”He doesn’t have Gold Standard around anymore to help him out. He’s on his own now while Madison is backed by Unstable.”

JOHNSON: ”Hopefully they won’t make an appearance during the match. This is already a tough match for John but if Unstable is added to the mix, things could outright get dangerous for him.”

VASSA: ”And now on to our main event!”

JOHNSON: ”Felicity Banks will take on the new 4CW Champion, Dakota Smith!”

VASSA: ”She’s the former 4CW Champion and was almost killed by the man at Fright Night as he stood tall at the top of the ladder. I can only expect that she’ll be seeking revenge here tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”The championship isn’t on the line but I don’t think that matters. I don’t know what’s going through Felicity’s head right now but I’m pretty sure she has a target right on the back on Dakota’s.”

VASSA: ”Anything could happen tonight with these two. A win by Felicity could buy her a rematch sooner than later though.”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed it could, Vinny. A win by Dakota could eliminate any threats he has as well.”

VASSA: ”I don’t know about that. There’s always someone ready to step up and challenge the big dog.”

JOHNSON: ”Truer words couldn’t have been said. Well that’s the lineup for tonight folks. We have a few other matches not mentioned but the overall night is primed to be a good one. We’re going to go backstage for a moment before we officially start the night off.”

As the scene cuts backstage, Perry Wallace makes his way through the halls with the camera following him. After making a right turn, he looks ahead only to see a side door with a bright red exit sign above it. With a smile on his face, he continues towards the door, with a little more pep in his step. Kicking the door in a smooth act, he nearly falls backwards as the door handle does not give and the door itself does not open. Regaining his balance, he looks over his shoulder only to grow slightly red at the sight of the camera behind him.

WALLACE: ”You couldn’t have told me that you were following me? What gives?”

He then shakes his head back and forth before turning back to the door and slamming both hands onto the bar type handle stretching from one side to the other. Swinging it open, he then steps out into the cool air of the night. After looking around and surveying the area, he then looks back at the camera while reaching for the inside pocket of his jacket.

WALLACE: ”Turn that thing off, I’m not putting on a show. I came out here to take a smoke and clear my head before things get kicked into overdrive tonight.”

Pulling out a nicely rolled joint, Wallace places it between his lips. As he goes to reach back in his pocket for a lighter, the camera view begins to slowly drop until pointing directly at the ground below.

VOICE: “Perry, shouldn’t you be inside overseeing your event?”

At the sound of an unfamiliar voice, the camera quickly raises up only to catch a view of Frankie Morrison standing a few feet in the distance in a tailor made gray suit with a black dress shirt on underneath. His jacket was fastened by the top button and he stood still with his right hand stuffed in his pocket.

WALLACE: ”Frankie! What the hell are you doing out here, sneaking in through the back door tonight?”

MORRISON: ”You really think now is a proper time for that?”

Morrison pointed to the joint in Wallace’s hand.

WALLACE: ”I don’t see why not. I have a few things I need to handle tonight and this helps me relax. It’s not like this is going to make me jump on the mic and talk about my family and myself, like someone else I know.”

With a smirk on his face, Wallace leans against the building before placing the joint behind his ear.

MORRISON: ”I’d hate to see this place continue down the same path it’s going because your mind is too clouded by that shit. At some point you need to get your head out of your ass…”

With a dumbfounded look on his face, Wallace rubs his goatee at a loss for words.

WALLACE: ”Well… I don’t… shit, Frankie. When did things change between us? It used to be you and me, we started this thing from nothing and built what it is today. Then you step down from Vice President, turn your papers in and now you’re grabbing mic time in the ring and making me look like a douche.”

MORRISON: ”You knew the day was coming that I’d step away. We talked about that when I agreed to be your right hand man. When I left my on air duties you were in a position to succeed and now you’ve lost all authority over anyone in the back. Don’t put the blame on me… Take some responsibility for yourself. I’m making you look like a douche? You’re doing a well enough job of that on your own.”

WALLACE: ”Really? It’s like that now? Don’t worry about me. I’m letting the folks in the back get out of control? I’m not buying that line for a second considering the folks, the group that you’ve aligned yourself with.”

MORRISON: ”What’s wrong with… You know what, I’m not going to sit here and bicker back and forth with you. You said you wanted to have a talk… Let’s talk…”

Pushing himself away from the building, Wallace stands straight up before crossing his arms and looking Morrison dead in the eye.

WALLACE: ”I just want to know what you’re up to aligning yourself with Unstable. You’ve always been a businessman and I can’t help but feel that this is you trying to make a power play of sorts. Business is business, I get it, but you’re the one who stepped down from this. You’re the one who handed over your shares.”

Wallace then takes a step forward, standing face to face with Morrison. A dead silence consumes the air for a brief moment before Wallace clears his throat and asks his next question.

WALLACE: ”What are your intentions?”

MORRISON: ”Simple… To do what you’re obviously incapable of doing in my absence; take control of that locker room. You can’t run a wrestling promotion where guys have no fear of the consequences for their actions. These guys can’t be allowed to run rampant, doing as they please. They need someone, something, to counterbalance that. The Unstable will take control of the locker. Everyone will start thinking twice before acting because The Unstable will not stand by and watch his company implode thanks to your negligence. These guys have an us versus the world mentality and are willing to dispose of everyone and anyone in their paths.”

With a confused look on his face, Wallace takes a step back before thinking over the words just spoken by Morrison. Unsure of what to think, he can only wonder of what’s to come in the future.

WALLACE: ”Is that a threat? Sure, we may have a few loose cannons roaming around but the last I checked, the ratings haven’t been hurting as a result. If anything, people tune in each and every show to see what may happen next. This is a cut throat business and people are going to do whatever they can to get ahead. I wouldn’t necessarily say that I have neglected things around here. If anything, I’ve empowered the roster to step up and fight for what they desire.”

MORRISON: ”You can’t be that blind. As an owner, a promoter, you have a responsibility for the wellbeing of everyone on your roster. People have been kidnapped, people have been assaulted backstage… Hell Dakota practically tried to kill Felicity Banks at Fright Night. Shit like that continues to happen and people are going to be weary about working for you. There’s a huge difference between someone trying to better their standing in the company and someone just lashing out because they know they’re going to get away with it. The route you’re going, no one will be left to work for you and those ratings will tank.”

A look of guilt comes over Perry’s face as he thinks to himself, reflecting on the words just spoken.

WALLACE: ”There isn’t a second that goes by that I don’t regret letting that happen on my watch. She didn’t deserve to have Dakota kidnap her. I won’t deny that Dakota crossed the line when he kidnapped Aidan. Yes, he’s been a little out of control. I thought I was going to lose a key piece of talent at Fright Night when he took it upon himself wrap that wire around Felicity’s throat and hang her from the top of that ladder. You can’t judge me solely on one person with a mind of his own, someone who disregards authority and does as he pleases. I admit, I have some things to clean up around here, but what I don’t need is Unstable taking matters into their own hands.”

MORRISON: ”Well someone has to because you sure as hell aren’t doing anything Perry.”

Frustration begins to settle in by the look on Perry’s face. He then reaches behind his ear and grabs ahold of the joint. After placing it between his lips, he looks back up at Frankie.

WALLACE: ”I can handle this, Frankie. I can get my roster under control. Unstable adding to the problem isn’t going to help anything. There is one thing you can help me with though.”

With the joint hanging from his lips, Wallace grins from ear to ear before continuing.

WALLACE: ”I can’t seem to find my lighter. You think you can help me with a light?”

MORRISON: ”Yeah you definitely look like you’ve got everything under control.”

Frankie chuckles as he shakes his head from side to side. He unbuttons the top button of his suit jacket, exposing his midsection before he reaches into the inner breast pocket. He pulls out a steel zippo lighter and underhands it to Perry. Perry reaches up to catch it but it bounces off of the palm of his hand. He fumbles it in mid air before finally grabbing it as it bounces off of the ground.

MORRISON: ”I’m coming to you as a courtesy because I hold no ill will towards you. I always thought we worked well together. Madison, Cashe, O’Donnell, and Martin are going to make their own decisions; I’m not their keeper. This is just me giving you a heads up… From one friend to another.”

Wallace then strikes the top of the lighter and ignites the flame. Holding it in front of the joint, he doesn’t light it but thinks to himself instead. He then lowers the lighter and flips the top without sparking the joint. He then hands it back to Morrison and shakes his head.

WALLACE: ”I think I may hold off for now.”

MORRISON: ”That would probably be best.”

Morrison then walks past Wallace and through the door, leaving him behind and heading into the arena. Watching as Morrison gets further and further away, Wallace just shakes his head before turning in the opposite direction and taking in the cool night air.

WALLACE: ”I’ll get control of my locker room!”

OPENING MATCH
EXTREME RULES MATCH
NICK WATSON VS. JASON CASHE

POWERS: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall and will be under the extreme rules!”

“Lift Me Up” by Five Finger Death Punch hits the speakers as the lights darken. As the portion of the song reaches the final part of the opening, pyro explodes from all over the stage, and the lights come on. 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… 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. He enters the ring from the middle rope as he runs to the nearest turnbuckle and poses for the fans, who let him hear their cheers. After posing for a bit, he jumps down from the turnbuckle, and begins to limber up in the middle of the ring again. Awaiting the arrival of his opponent(s) for this evening.

JOHNSON: ”He’s been absent for a few weeks but Nick Watson is here tonight to kick things off in our opening contest!”

VASSA: ”He’s in for a treat because there are weapons scattered everywhere outside of the ring.”

JOHNSON: ”It is an extreme rules match after all.”

VASSA: ”Why can’t I be the person who picks out the weapons to bring down here at ringside. I’d have cheese graters, pogo sticks, power tools… all types of off the wall stuff.”

JOHNSON: ”Although that sounds delightful, a good old fashioned chair to the head always seems to do the trick.”

VASSA: ”I’d even prepare for that! If I were these folks in these matches, I’d wear a football helmet with a visor, shoulder pads… hell, maybe even a sumo suit.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know if they make a sumo suit in your size.”

VASSA: ”Oh shut it!”

The Arena goes into a brief silence before Jason Cashe comes out from the back, almost sliding out with a smile on his face and a dip in his step as he hears the place give him both jeers and cheers.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

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.

POWERS: ”From Houston, Texas, he is the 4CW Extreme Champion, “The Troubled”, Jason Cashe!”

Taking two quick puffs from an “Air Joint”, Cashe throws his arms up above his head briefly, slaps the camera zoomed in on his face and then takes his first real steps towards the ring. Giving a few fans fist bumps, those who have their hands out wanting some love he makes his way down to ringside. He rounds the corner of the ring and jogs the steel stairs, getting up on the ring apron.

VASSA: ”Umm, Steve?”

JOHNSON: ”Yes?”

VASSA: ”Cashe is the 4CW Extreme Champion, right?”

JOHNSON: ”Yes he is, Mike Powers just said that.”

VASSA: ”Where the hell is the Extreme Championship at?”

JOHNSON: ”That’s a good point, Vinny.”

Dipping through the middle ropes, he enters the ring. Walking to the opposite side, he balances on the middle rope, leaning against the top rope and once again hits the “Air Joint” before getting hyped up over the upcoming match.

”RRRAAAAAHHHHH LIGHT THAT SHIT UP!!!”

Dropping down, he puts his back into a nearby corner and awaits the bell.

JOHNSON: ”Why doesn’t he have the 4CW Extreme Championship with him?”

VASSA: ”I’m going to go out on a limb here and just say that he probably got really super-duper stoned and forgot where he set it down last.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s a valid theory, but he never lost the 4CW Championship.”

VASSA: ”I beg to differ. What do you mean by he never lost it? He’s the former three time 4CW Champion.”

JOHNSON: ”You know what I mean!”

VASSA: ”I was just correcting you. I guess it doesn’t matter since this isn’t a championship match.”

Standing in the center of the ring, the ref checks with both corners and quickly gets the nod from each before throwing his hand into the air and signaling for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Making the first move, Watson races out of his corner and charges towards Cashe. Closing in on him and leaving him no escape, Watson lunges forward with a right hook only to miss as Cashe ducks underneath and lists him up from his feet. Flipping Watson over his back as he stands straight up, Cashe sends him flying over the top rope. Grabbing onto the rope with both hands, Watson manages to use it as he guides his fall to the apron and not the floor below. Cashe quickly turns around and without giving Watson a chance to get up, Cashe kicks through the bottom and middle ropes, planting his boot into the side of his head. Watson then rolls over slightly before falling off the apron and crashing down to the floor.

VASSA: ”Looks like the action is about to get a little closer for us, Steve!”

JOHNSON: ”The bell hadn’t even silenced and Watson has already found his way here on the outside.”

Cashe then drops to his back and rolls underneath the bottom rope, exiting the ring. Dropping his feet down to the floor, Cashe steps away from the ring while keeping his focus locked on Watson. He then grabs Watson by the back of the head and slowly pulls him up to both feet. Locking onto his wrist, Cashe then whips him back first into the steel barricade at ringside. With Watson holding himself up with his arms spread across the top of the barricade, Cashe then rushes in and hits him with a left-handed clothesline, nearly taking his head off and dropping him down to a seated position on the floor.

Cashe then grabs his head with both hands before slamming it backwards against the steel barricade. Not satisfied with just one, Cashe then slams it again and again, until knocking Watson into a daze. Looking to his left, Cashe locks his eyes on a broom handle. After walking over to it and grabbing it, he holds it above his head with one hand while pointing to Watson with the other. He then grips with both hands and takes a swing towards Watson’s head.

JOHNSON: ”I don’t think so!”

VASSA: ”Watson has the other end in his clutches!”

With both hands gripped tightly around the other end of the broom handle, Watson shoves it forward, hitting Cashe in the stomach with his end. With his breath knocked out of him, Cashe quickly releases his hold on the stick before lunging over and holding his stomach, gasping for air. Watson then climbs to his feet before taking a swing and hitting Cashe over the back with the broom handle.

CRACK!!!

Upon impact, the broom handle breaks in half as small pieces of wood erupt from the breaking point. Dropping to one knee, Cashe continues to hold his stomach, almost ignoring the broom handle broken across his back. Watson then draws the other half back and takes another swing, this time hitting him on top of the shoulder. Cashe’s arm drops to his side as his hand dangles only inches away from the other half of the broom handle. Watson then draws back to hit him again but as he does, Cashe grabs the other half of the broom handle, pops to his feet and hits Watson in the armpit with it.

VASSA: ”Ahh, what the hell! That looked painful!”

JOHNSON: ”We see some crazy things here at ringside but not too often do we see a shot with a broom handle to the armpit.”

VASSA: ”Leave it to Cashe!”

Cashe grips the middle of the broom handle before lunging forward and hitting Watson directly in the chin with a hard right hand. Watson stumbles backwards but manages to stay on his feet. Cashe then grips both hands onto the broom handle, one on each end, and then slams it into Watson’s throat, knocking him down to the floor. he then throws his half of the broom handle to the floor before jumping into the air and landing on top of Watson. After mounting himself on top, Cashe then begins to throw wild lefts and rights, hitting Watson from every angle. After landing half a dozen punches, Cashe then transitions his attack to gorilla styled fist attacks, swinging downward violently at Watson’s head.

JOHNSON: ”Nick better do something quick before this turns ugly.”

VASSA: ”This is an extreme rules match! I hope you didn’t expect this to be pretty.”

After beating Watson senseless, Cashe pushes himself up to his feet. He then spots a steel chair in the distance and quickly makes his way over to it. Reaching down and picking it up from the floor, he then stands straight up while holding the chair at eye level with both hands. Slowly turning around, A smile comes to his face as he spots Watson slowly beginning to push himself up from the floor. Standing back and waiting patiently, Cashe looks on while lowering the chair to waist level. He then begins to tap it against the floor, over and over, stalking Watson like prey.

Grabbing onto the top of the barricade, Watson pulls himself up, barely able to stand on his own. Cashe then charges in with the chair raised above his head. Once he closes in, Cashe swings down with the chair towards Watson’s head but misses as he side steps out of the way.

CLANK!!!

The steel on steel sound of the chair crashing onto the barricade echoes throughout the arena. The impact stings Cashe’s hands and quickly forces him to throw the chair down to the floor. Watson then moves in and drives his elbow into Cashe’s mid-section. Forcing Cashe to lunge over, Watson then grabs him by the head with both hands and walks him over to the side of the ring. He then rolls Cashe onto the apron before looking to his right and spotting a nearby chain. With Cashe on his back, Watson grabs the chain and then climbs onto the apron, on the other side as Cashe. While walking along the apron and closing in on Cashe, Watson slowly wraps the chair around his fist. Once standing over Cashe, he then reaches down and grabs him with his other hand, pulling him up to his feet.

Holding Cashe up with one hand, Watson then draws his fist wrapped in the chain back and swings forward, planting the cold metal links into the side of Cashe’s jaw. Cashe then drops to one knee but Watson doesn’t let go of his hold on him. With Cashe still held by one hand, Watson draws that same fist back once more and plants another chain wrapped punch into Cashe’s jaw. With his head held low, Cashe spits a mouthful of blood onto the apron. With Cashe in a bad position, Watson draws back once more for a third punch and swings with all of his might.

JOHNSON: ”Nick can end it ri–“

VASSA: ”NNOOO!!!”

Before Watson can make contact with a third punch, Cashe thrusts his head forward and hits Watson with a low blow headbutt. Watson stumbles backwards but grabs ahold of the top rope to keep his balance before bending over as the pain begins to settle in his stomach. Cashe then pulls himself up to his feet with assistance of the ropes. As he pops his head up, the camera zooms in to the sight of blood covering his chin and dripping down onto his chest. Cashe spits out another mouthful of blood before wiping his chin and smearing blood across his face. He then slowly walks along the apron, closing in on Watson.

Once within range, Cashe spreads his arms apart and then swings them both inward, smacking both of Watson’s ears with a double ear slap. Cashe then quickly grabs his head and pulls it against his body before applying a side headlock. After cranking down with the pressure for a few moments, Cashe then gives Watson a noogie before releasing his hold and lifting Watson’s head up. He then presses Watson’s face against the top of the rope and then drags it across while pulling him down the apron. Once close to the corner, Cashe raises his head up to reveal a nasty rug burn across his face.

VASSA: ”That’s a nasty rug burn running across Nick’s face!”

JOHNSON: ”That look is definitely going to stick with him for a few days.”

VASSA: ”I hope he has some ointment in the back because he’s surely going to need it after this match.”

JOHNSON: ”What is he up to now?!”

Cashe slowly turns Watson around to face the opposite way with his back to him. Looking down to the floor, Cashe spots the chair from earlier a few feet away from the edge of the ring. He then wraps his arms around Watson’s head and leaps down from the apron.

JOHNSON: ”What’s this?!”

VASSA: ”No freaking way!”

Pulling Watson off the apron with him, Cashe drops him across the chair on the floor with a back to back cutter.

JOHNSON: ”UNDER THE INFLUENCE!!!”

VASSA: ”Holy shit, Cashe just hit Nick with the UTI off the apron and onto the floor!”

At the sight of the move from the apron, the crowd then breaks out into a chant.

“4-C-W… 4-C-W… 4-C-W… 4-C-W… 4-C-W”

Cashe then stands to his feet and walks in circles around Watson, looking down at him while the blood continues to cover his face and drip down to his body.

VASSA: ”I think this one is over with!”

JOHNSON: ”It will be when he makes the pin!”

Cashe then reaches down and rolls Watson over to his stomach, placing his face onto the steel chair.

VASSA: ”What the hell is he doing?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t think he’s finished but this could end badly for Nick.”

Cashe then begins to stomp on the back of Watson’s head over and over like a wild man.

VASSA: ”I guess he isn’t finished.”

JOHNSON: ”Come on, this isn’t necessary!”

Not letting up, Cashe continues his assault on Watson as the ref just looks on, unable to do anything due to the regulations of the match.

JOHNSON: ”He’s going to seriously injure Nick. Someone do something!”

Noticing a pool of blood forming around Watson’s head, Cashe doesn’t let up but transitions his attack to the back of Watson’s neck.

VASSA: ”Cashe is going straight HAM here tonight!”

JOHNSON: ”HAM?”

VASSA: ”Yeah, hard as a motherfucker!”

Watson’s body goes limp as Cashe stomps on the back of his neck and head. Refusing to let up, Cashe continues stomping as the fans erupt with mixed reactions.

JOHNSON: ”Wait a second, is that…”

VASSA: ”What the hell is he doing out here?”

JOHNSON: ”It’s former 4CW Vice President, Frankie Morrison!”

Out from the back, Morrison makes his way down to ringside at a casual pace. With Cashe on the other side of the ring stomping the life out of Watson, Morrison slowly walks around the ring but in no rush at all. Leaning against the ring post, Morrison looks on as Cashe stomps violently on the fallen and unconscious Watson. Cashe then stops his assault and looks over at Morrison who then gives him a nod. Dropping to both knees, Cashe then rolls Watson over to his back. He then makes the cover as the ref rushes in for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: ”FINALLY!!!”

VASSA: ”This was sure one hell of a way to kick the evening off!”

JOHNSON: ”At what expense? Nick Watson’s career could have just ended before our eyes.”

VASSA: ”These wrestlers know what they’re getting into when they step into an extreme rules match.”

Cashe then pushes himself up to his feet while keeping his sights locked down on Watson. The ref then grabs his arm and raises it into the air before Cashe jerks it away and steps over Watson’s limp body.

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall, “The Troubled”, JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”

Cashe then walks over to Morrison who nods in approval before the two walk around the ring and head up the ramp.

JOHNSON: ”I understand that there are no rules to these extreme matches but there has to be a line somewhere. I mean Nick Watson was defenseless and could have been pinned long before that ruthless assault.”

VASSA: ”There’s nothing anyone can do about it, that’s the nature of these matches. But let’s not forget that Cashe is unstable.”

JOHNSON: ”I have a bad feeling about this new brand of Unstable forming here in 4CW.”

VASSA: ”That’s not what I meant. I mean he is literally unstable.”

JOHNSON: ”You’re right about that. Well folks, we’re going to get Nick some medical attention but while we do, let’s head backstage momentarily as we get ready for our next match in the lineup.”

The camera’s catch up with Jett Wilder who walking down a Hallway backstage, preparing for his upcoming big match. Sloane Atreyu comes up behind him with a giddy smile on her face …it is almost nervous. She taps him on the shoulder.

ATREYU: “Hey, Jett…”

Jett spins around with his fist raised to her. She giggles at how jittery he was. He realizes that it just Sloane and has an already annoyed expression on his face.

JETT: “Oh, it is just you. What do you want?”

ATREYU: “I just wanted to wish you good luck in your match against Stevenson.”

It seems as if Sloane is trying to hold back laughter as she says this. Jett shrugs at this weird little woman.

JETT: “Uh …yeah …thanks …uh …you to.”

ATREYU: “Not a problem.”

Jett walks away shaking his head at this weird exchange with the person that pinned his bodyguard at the last Adrenaline. Once he finally walks away, she finally lets out a HUGE burst of laughter at the thought of Wilder being any kind of champion. Soon, she is joined by Zelda whom has an idea of what her partner is jovial over.

ORION: “What did he do this time?”

ATREYU: “IT IS SO CUTE! He thinks he actually has a chance against Drew Stevenson and then that he is actually going to win the Pride title. His ignorance is SO adorable.”

Zelda joins in on the laughter and teasing at hearing just how jaded they believe Wilder is.

ORION: “REALLY? Man, I understand having confidence but that guy lives in his own reality where he isn’t Gilligan-esque.”

ATREYU: “Seriously, he needs his own reality where cameras follow him around, so a casual viewing audience can understand the beauty of Jett Wilder.”

Their laughter is broken up as Carmella and Luiz walk up behind the two of them and overhear them openly mocking Jett Wilder.

CARMELLA: “What are you saying about my SON?”

Both members of Bitch TV turn toward Carmella and Cavalcante. Zelda has a cocky look on her face, almost happy that they were overheard. Sloane is a little surprised but doesn’t seem worried about either one of them listening in.

ATREYU: “We are just having some fun with him.”

LUIZ: ”Why you make fun of Jett?”

ORION: “Why do you care? He treats you like crap and then leaves you in the lurch during tag matches? We thought that maybe you stayed with him because he is something of a hipster. It is sad that the truth is that you just have no backbone.”

Zelda ignores the dirty look that Luiz gives her and, instead, unzips her bondage pants and pulls out a few quarters. She flicks a coin towards Carmella’s chest but misses. Wilder’s mom ignores this, turning her attention to Sloane.

CARMELLA: “I will have you know that Jett is a special boy who has done more for 4CW than you ever have. When he beats Drew Stevenson to tonight, I hope you are …EXCUSE ME WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?”

She finally snaps as the fourth quarter that Orion flicked lands on her left boob.

ATREYU: “It is a game she plays when anyone wears something cleavagey.”

CARMELLA: “Well, it is annoying.”

ORION: “It used to happen to me all of the time when I had the deal you had. Only now do I realize how fun his game was.”

Finally, Zelda hits a jackpot and the quarter lands in the crack between her breasts. Zelda jumps up and down in victory as Carmella looks as if she has had enough of this.

CARMELLA: “Just stay away from my son.”

ATREYU: “I will do whatever I want with your son …it is cute and amusing to me. Also, I do not think there is anything to do to stop me.”

Carmella only backs down a little but as Sloane gets in her face, but soon, Luiz stands next to her, staring down Atreyu.

CARMELLA: “Just take it easy on him, he has no issues with you two.”

Both Bitch TV look at each other before Zelda answers with a confident smile.

ORION: “We will give him a chance to prove us wrong tonight. If he does that, there is no reason to tease him.”

Zelda walks away, leaving Sloane to look down on Carmella. Sloane smiles.

ATREYU: “For what it is worth, I hope that Stevenson doesn’t cripple him in the ring.”

CARMELLA: “Thanks …I think.”

With that, Sloane walks away from Wilder’s mom and bodyguard, getting ready for their match later in the evening as Carmella scowls at the two girls.

UNDERCARD
TARYN WILLOW VS. CJ O’DONNELL

POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, from Brooklyn, New York! Taryn Willow!”

“The Devil In I” by Slipknot starts to blast through the arena as the fans give her mix reactions as cameras pan to the back as Taryn comes out of her locker room and makes her way up the ramp. She comes through the curtain as she launches her head back screaming in the air and as she brings her head back up and smirks. She makes her way to the ring as she slides in and right away sits in the middle of the ring with her legs crossed as she rocks herself waiting for her opponent to arrive.

JOHNSON: “A young talent new to the roster, maybe the lesser known but Taryn could bring surprise here tonight in a tough test!”

VASSA: “Maybe..”

As “Bitter End” by The Veer Union begins to play the black curtains begins to move and out comes CJ O’Donnell with the Boardwalk Wrestling Internet Championship around his waist.

VASSA: “The Distinguished One with the Distinguished Championship!”

JOHNSON: “Newly renamed Distinguished Championship. The former Internet Championship, I’m not sure it’s an official rename but Unstable seemingly does what they want, WHERE they want.”

Removing his championship, CJ O’Donnell roars out at the stage top. Fans give him a pop but the majority vibrate the place with boos.

POWERS: “From the MEAN STREETS OF BOSTON!! He is The ANCHOR for The Unstable!! “The Distinguished” CEEEEE JAAAAAYY OOOOHHHHH’DOOONNNELLLL!!!!”

Heading to the ring, CJ points in the ring at Willow and snickers at her as he rounds the ring and leaps up the steel stairs. Letting his belt drape over the top ropes, he crosses his arms over the ropes and stares at Taryn Willow.

JOHNSON: “CJ seems very different without Julliet Brooks at his side, this seems like a new man altogether right now.”

VASSA: “Brooks or not, CJ has gained a reputation for what he does inside the ring. Unstable is in 4CW because of this man. Not Amp, not Bishop but CJ O’Donnell and we should all be excited for his debut here tonight!”

Inside the ring, CJ hands the referee his Championship. Willow bounces up and down in her corner as she stares across at CJ O’Donnell. The bell rings and CJ motions for Taryn to fight.

DING!!! DING!!!

The spunky five foot six inch New Yorker races at CJ, screeching with all her lung power and hits CJ with a Missile Front Dropkick that sends him back hard into the corner. He shakes off his disbelief as Willow springs up to her feet. CJ roars out of the corner and blasts her with a devastating Running High Knee. Willow goes stiff and hits the canvas, the audience gasps. CJ back on his feet dusts his hands off and shakes his head.

VASSA: “IRISH KNOWLEDGE! IRISH KNOWLEDGE!! THAT’S IT, IT’S OVER!”

JOHNSON: “Willow is out, she has her tongue hanging out of the side of her mouth…”

CJ points at Willow as he talks to the referee. Shrugging his shoulders he bends forward and grabs a handful of her hair along with her left arm. He pulls her up as she remains out of it even when he launches her through the middle ropes to the outside. The boos are deafening and CJ waves them off as he dips out onto the ring apron. A fan in the corner of the aisle throws a cup of soda and it pops CJ in the chest. He drops down off the apron and storms over to the fan, shoving him in the face.

VASSA: “Stupid fan got caught thinking he can throw stuff at CeeJayOD but look, look, he got educated really quick!”

Security comes in from the audience and controls the fan from further interacting. O’Donnell turns and sees Willow moving around, reaching up to grab hold of the ring barrier. The referee gets to the count of five as CJ hurries and leaps up onto the ring apron once again. Willow rises, fans that can see her face first gasp at the sight of it. She turns to the ring, the cameras pick up the huge mouse, horrible swelling from where the knee had connected. CJ cringes but rushes along the apron, leaps off and hits another “Irish Education” to the face of Taryn Willow. Fans are livid as he rises to his feet and looks down at a face full of blood on Willow. Shaking his head, CJ turns and moves closer to the nearest camera.

”THIS IS MY COMPETITION!? HA!!”

Rolling back into the ring, CJ doesn’t even care about the win. He lays on the canvas and watches as the referee makes the final count.

Seven! … Eight! … Nine! … Ten!”

JOHNSON: “Not even enough respect to pick up the victory, he let the girl get counted out like she wasn’t worth the effort…”

VASSA: “Was she though? She comes in here wanting to compete and what’d she do? Get her face adjusted in a matter of seconds… He did 4CW a favor!”

Not caring to hear the official word, CJ rolls out from the ring, snatches his belt from the Time Keeper as Mike Powers makes the announcement.

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: “Here is your winner by knockout, CJ OOOHHHHHH… DDOONNNNEELLLL!!!”

CJ rounds the ring, his title in hand, he stops to stare at Taryn Willow once more before heading up the entrance ramp and into the back.

The cameras switch backstage to find one half of the tag team champions, Aidan Carlisle, walking down the back hall where the locker rooms are located. When she finally comes to a stop it is outside the door marked, “Cyrus Riddle.” With a quick glance up and down the hall to make sure no one is coming, she pulls an envelope out of her jacket, crouches down, and slips it beneath the door. Just as she stands back up the door opens inward, revealing Cyrus himself. Aidan stands up quickly, giving the back of her neck an awkward rub.

CARLISLE: “Oh, uh… hi.”

Cyrus chuckles as he smirks at her, an eyebrow raising.

RIDDLE: “You could have just knocked, it’s not bothersome.”

CARLISLE: “I thought you would prefer having time to yourself to prepare for your match. And I was hoping to avoid awkward conversations altogether.”

RIDDLE: “No conversation is awkward unless you make it so. Is that what I think it is?”

Cyrus points to the envelope.

CARLISLE: “Well that depends on what you think it is, but yes, probably.”

RIDDLE: “Well, it can only be one of two things, and I doubt you are serving me any kind of papers.”

CARLISLE: “No, not at present.”

RIDDLE: “Well, although I still maintain my stance that it’s not necessary, I appreciate it, so thank you.”

CARLISLE: “Well, I think it is necessary, so… here.”

Aidan holds out the envelope to Cyrus, watching him expectantly. He grabs the other end of the enveloped and holds it up while nodding to her before folding it in half and keeping it gripped within his right hand.

RIDDLE: “So… is there anything you need in regards to this?”

CARLISLE: “Like a receipt or something? No.”

RIDDLE: “No, not that. I mean are there any kinds of accommodations.”

CARLISLE: “No, I’ll handle anything I need.”

RIDDLE: “Fair enough. You holding up okay?”

CARLISLE: “Yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

RIDDLE: “Circumstances, love, just making sure. Plus, you have off this week, so I wasn’t sure.”

CARLISLE: “There are a few matches I was interested in seeing, plus I wanted to drop this off.”

RIDDLE: “Well, I hope you enjoy. I’m glad you showed up, I actually wanted to ask you about something.”

CARLISLE: “Oh? And what’s that?”

RIDDLE: “As you know, there’s a certain disruption that is now making home here. If things go the way I believe they will, I’m curious to know if you would be willing to assist?”

For a moment silent hangs in the hall as Aidan considers what Cyrus has said.

CARLISLE: “I’ve got time to listen to your suggestions.”

Cyrus looks down the hall both ways before stepping aside and holding his hand out.

RIDDLE: “Best we talk in private.”

Aidan did her own survey of the hall before looking into the locker room. She looked hesitant, but finally nodded and stepped past him. After taking one last look down the hall, Cyrus nodded his head and closed the door slowly.

UNDERCARD
MANNIE ROMERO VS. BRONX VALESCENCE

The beginning of “Another Way” airs through the sound system, building anticipation.

POWERS: ”Introducing to the ring from The Commonwealth of Virginia, weighing in at two hundred twenty five pounds and standing six feet, two inches tall… He is “Young” MANNIE RROOMMEERROO!!!”

Mannie emerges to a wave of cheers while jogging through the middle isle, his demeanor is slightly chilled but quite amp’d as well, but however he still manages to also fist bump some fans before finally sliding underneath the bottom rope to await his Opponent.

JOHNSON: ”The last time we saw Mannie in action was at Fright Night when he defeated The Red Pioneer for the second time.”

VASSA: ”I don’t know if this is coincidence or not but the first time Mannie beat Pioneer, we didn’t see Pioneer for a very long time. No one has heard from him since Fright Night. Coincidence?”

JOHNSON: ”It could be, Vinny. You might be on to something.”

“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: ”And the opponent, 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: ”Why if it isn’t the boss man’s son himself, Bronxy V!”

JOHNSON: ”I will admit, it has been a joy watching him in action ever since signing with 4CW.”

VASSA: ”he just has this certain appeal to him, this energy that he give off in the ring. He may act like a kid on social media but the man can throw down in the ring and puts on a damn good show.”

The official checks with Mannie in his corner who stares right back with a look of confidence on his face as he gives the nod. Looking to the opposite side of the ring, the ref looks displeased as Bronx lounges on top of the ropes, not paying attention. Yelling to grab his attention, the official finally gets it. Dropping down to his feet, Bronx removes his jacket and places it on the apron. He then takes off his gloves and tosses them underneath the ropes. Last but not least, Bronx then removes his sunglasses from his face, folds them up, and then places them in the waistband of his trucks. After brushing the hair from his face, Bronx looks to the ref and then points at him with his fingers simulating a gun and then fires, giving the ref the signal that he’s ready. Shaking his head for a brief moment, the ref then throws his hand into the air and calls for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

At the sound of the bell, Mannie steps away from the corner and walks to the center of the ring with the same confidence he came to the ring with. Standing in the center, Mannie yells a few words at Bronx, daring him to meet him in the middle. Looking to both sides at the crowd, Bronx surveys over everyone before a smile comes to his face. Pushing himself away from the corner, Bronx walks to the center of the ring and stops, inches away from Mannie, standing toe to toe with him.

VASSA: ”Here we go!”

JOHNSON: ”Who’s going to make the first move?!”

Raising his hand into the air, Mannie motions for Bronx to lock hands with him in a test of strength. Cautious at first, Bronx then slowly raises his and just before the two lock hands, Mannie catches him off guard with a swift kick to the mid-section. Lunging over from the blow to the stomach, Bronx opens his back up for attack as Mannie follows up with a hard forearm smash across it. With Bronx still on his feet, Mannie then delivers a stinging kick to the side of his thigh, sending a loud slapping sound throughout the arena.

With Bronx leaning to his side, favoring his leg, Mannie then delivers a kick to the opposite thigh, resulting in the same effect. Dropping down to one knee, Mannie then swings upward and catches Bronx underneath the chin with an uppercut, standing him straight up. With Bronx on his toes, Mannie then pops back up and goes on the rampage with palm strikes to the chest, backing him up as each blow connects with flesh. After backing Bronx up across the entire ring, Mannie traps him in the corner and swings for the fences with a power punch aimed for his head.

JOHNSON: ”Bronx counters!”

As Mannie’s fist closes in, Bronx wraps both arms around Mannie’s and then spins around, slamming him into the corner with force. The impact alone takes Mannie’s breath away and before he can react, Bronx unloads with a series of rapid punches to the stomach, tenderizing Mannie’s mid-section as if it were a slab of meat. After completing a nasty combination of punches, Bronx quickly spins around and plants his foot into the side of Mannie’s face with a spinning heel kick.

With his arms stretched out, Mannie holds onto the ropes, keeping himself up. Bronx then locks his arm around mannie’s head and then flips him over to his back with a snapmare. In a fluid motion, Mannie rolls into a seated position and before he can get comfortable, Bronx delivers a stinging kick to his spine, forcing Mannie to howl as the pain travels throughout his entire body. Bronx then grabs Mannie by the head and lifts him up to his feet. With Mannie’s head held down, Bronx drags him to the center of the ring where he then lifts his knee and plants it right into Mannie’s mouth, standing him straight up, forcing a mouthful of spit to erupt into the air.

Bronx then wraps Mannie up and lifts him up from his feet, flipping him over to the mat with a northern lights suplex. With the bridge in tact, Bronx goes for the pin as the ref races over for the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

VASSA: ”He kicks out!”

JOHNSON: ”Bronx went for the quick pin but it just wasn’t enough to put Mannie away for the count.”

Bronx rolls over to his stomach and pushes himself up, but as he does, Mannie quickly climbs to his feet as well. Standing at the same time, Mannie lunges forward and connects with a European uppercut that sends Bronx stumbling backwards a few steps before regaining his footing. Bronx then charges towards Mannie but as he draws near, Mannie kicks him in the stomach and then lifts him up from his feet, only to throw him down to the canvas with a scoop slam.

As Bronx rushes to get back up, Mannie gives him no mercy before running forward and driving his knee into the side of Bronx’s head. After knocking Bronx to the mat, Mannie reaches down and grabs a handful of hair and pulls him up. With Bronx on one knee, Mannie takes his other hand and then slaps Bronx across the back of the head, drawing a mixture of reactions from the fans. He then pulls Bronx to his feet. Grabbing his wrist, Mannie goes to throw Bronx to the ropes. Before Mannie can release, Bronx reverses the throw and whips Mannie to them instead.

After coming back on the rebound, Bronx puts all of his energy into his leg and swings around with a kick aimed for Mannie’s face. Ducking at the last second, Mannie runs underneath the kick and to the other side of the ring as Bronx spins him place. Hitting the ropes hard, Mannie rebounds only to do handspring and as he pushes himself up into the air, Bronx stops his spin but with his back towards Mannie. Mannie then lands on Bronx’s shoulder’s with his legs wrapped around his head.

JOHNSON: ”Here comes that handspring reverse Frankensteiner that Mannie executes so well!”

VASSA: ”Hold up!”

Before Mannie can fall backwards, Bronx reaches up, wraps his arms around Mannie’s waist and then drops to a sit-out position while pulling Mannie over his body and slamming him face first to the canvas.

JOHNSON: ”What a counter from Bronx!”

VASSA: ”Mannie could have really put a hurting on Bronxy V with that reverse Frankensteiner but instead, Bronx decided to feed him a little canvas!”

Bronx then rolls Mannie over to his back before climbing to his feet and looking to the corner with excitement. After climbing to the top, Bronx looks over the crowd before pulling his sunglasses from his waistband and placing them over his eyes. He then leaps straight into the air and comes down with a corkscrew moonsault across Mannie’s body.

JOHNSON: ”True Light’s Flight!”

VASSA: ”What the hell? Have you been playing Kingdom Hearts?”

JOHNSON: ”That’s what Bronx calls that corkscrew moonsault! I don’t even know what Kingdom Hearts is!”

VASSA: ”Really? Let me tell you about King–“

JOHNSON: ”Bronx is going for the pin!”

Hooking the Mannie’s leg with one hand, Bronx adjusts his sunglasses with the other as the ref sweeps in for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: ”Bronx wins it!”

VASSA: ”I’m sure his pappy is proud!”

Bronx then stands to his feet as “What You Know About That” hits the sound system. The ref then raises his arm into the air as the bell sounds in the background, signaling his victory.

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

Bronx then pulls his arm away from the ref before looking down at Mannie laid out in the center of the ring. He then reaches into his trunks and pulls out a folded piece of paper and places it on Mannie’s chest.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, by pinfall, BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”

VASSA: ”What is that, a love letter?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know but clearly it’s a message for Mannie.”

VASSA: ”If I had to guess, I would say it’s either a conspiracy theory about 9/11 or the menu to Golden Corral because he considers that place trash.”

JOHNSON: ”I have no idea what you’re talking about and on that note, we’re going to go backstage momentarily as we prepare for our next match in the lineup.”

Storming through the halls, we find Perry Wallace with an angry look on his face. As he passes by each door, he looks at the name tag before moving on to the next.

WALLACE: ”Where is that son of a bitch?”

After making the long journey towards the end of the hall, he finally comes to an abrupt stop. Looking at the name tag, he adjusts his jacket while taking a deep breath.

WALLACE: ”Drew Stevenson… here you are.”

Slamming his hand onto the door handle, Wallace swings it wide open while stepping through without hesitation.

WALLACE: ” Put your dick away and get your checkbook ready!”

With a smile on his face, he looks over at Wallace and has a check already filled out and signed as he extends his hand, offering him the check.

STEVENSON: ”My dick isn’t out and why so serious? Are you really still upset over what happened at the last Adrenaline?”

WALLACE: ”Who do you think you are putting one of my wrestlers on the shelf?!”

Seeing that Wallace was fuming, Stevenson rolls his eyes, obviously not taking this as serious as Wallace.

STEVENSON: ”Clearly that’s a yes and look, I wrote you a check for two hundred thousand because let’s face it; I’m going to get in trouble again and I have a pretty good feeling that it’s going to be sooner rather than later.”

Reaching out, he places the check in Wallace’s jacket pocket and continues to grin.

STEVENSON: ”So… are we done here or would you like to have a dick swinging contest?”

Wallace looks down at the check in his jacket pocket for a moment as the anger still lingers. He then slowly raises his head and looks Stevenson in the eyes.

WALLACE: ”Two hundred large… you think that’s going to cover it? It will do for now, but you’re going to pick up the hospital bill and pay for any rehab that Seamus’ needs. I don’t know what’s going through that head of yours but if you put another one of my employees on the shelf it’s going to cost a lot more than this to buy yourself out of trouble. You have a big match tonight, a contender match for the Pride Championship. Even though you fucked up two weeks ago, you scored a win over the former champ so that won’t go unnoticed. Just don’t put me in this situation again.”

Wallace then turns for the door and before stepping to the other side, he stops only to look back over his shoulder.

WALLACE: ”Don’t even think about touching Carmella tonight.”

Wallace then walks down the hall, leaving the door wide open as Drew stands in the locker room with a cocky grin across his face.

UNDERCARD
FROST BROTHERS VS. BITCH TV

JOHNSON: ”We’re about to get some tag team action underway Vinny… Bitch TV will be taking on the debuting Frost Brothers.”

VASSA: ”Bitch TV impressed at the last Adrenaline, picking up a win in their debut against Team Wilder.”

JOHNSON: ”We all know the tag division is the most wide open. We have seen quite a few teams debut, win a few matches and quickly earn a shot at the straps.”

VASSA: ”Yeah, teams like New Gen Rising, Equinox and Mike Harrison, RPG and Demi Griffin. The division is always wide open.”

JOHNSON: ”Bitch TV could be that next flash in the pan team. They’ve joined 4CW at the right time. The division could be theirs for the taking.”

Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa paused as they gazed into the camera lense before it cut to the DJ booth where Mike Powers was standing idly by.

POWERS: ”The following contest is a tag team match and is scheduled for one fall! Introducing first, making their 4CW debut, August and Anthony Frost…THE FROST BROTHERS!!”

The lights fade to black as drums begin pounding out. With the rhythm, blue lights begin flickering in time to the beat. On the titantron, we see a silhouette of a man walking in place to the beat. The drums get louder and more rambunctious as the lights flicker faster. The lights flicker to an almost maniac pace as the tension builds until we hear the yell of Roger Daltrey of The Who.

“YEEEEEAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!”

As the music explodes, the word FROST appears on the big screen The lights come on the stage and we see The Frost Brothers come out onto the ramp. August raises his arms in the air and walks slowly down the ramp, chewing gum with a smirk on his face. Anthony is more stoic, unflinching and emotionless. August slaps some hands on the way down to the ring.

“I’ll tip my hat to the new constitution

Take a bow for the new revolution

Smile and grin at the change all around

Pick up my guitar and play

Just like yesterday

Then I’ll get on my knees and pray

We don’t get fooled again”

August and Anthony get on the ramp. Anthony enters the ring and raises his arm in the air and yells. August stays on the ramp, stretching his arms out, with his cocked back, seemingly taking in all the sights and sounds.

POWERS: ”And their opponents… At a combined weight of two hundred and seventy three pounds… Sloane Atreyu… Zelda Orion… BITCH TV!!”

The lights in the arena go down as kazoos can be heard humming the intro theme to The Final Countdown, originally sung by Europe. Static fills the big screen as this is happening, but once the song picks up, the screen flashes in bright early 1990’s colors such as neon pink, neon blue, and a gaudy bright orange. In those same tacky colors, the name “Bitch TV” flashes on the big screen as a pillar of smoke goes off on the rampway and fog rises up from the entryway. As the same tacky pastel colors flash on the ramp, two figures emerge from behind the curtain. The first one out is the always fired up Zelda Orion who sprints to the rampway in a rush. Zelda jumps up and down, rolling her right fist in her left palm, in anticipation for getting into the ring. She is soon followed by an equally as energized (but not as jumpy) Sloane Atreyu, who comes out to the ring with a confident stomp. Sloane is wearing steampunk esque goggles with silver hood as she stomps at the foot of the rampway. The two stand side by side, as Zelda pumps her fist in the air few times and Sloane removes her goggles and then hood. Another pillar of smoke goes off behind them as they do this. Sloane holds up her hand and Zelda jumps up to give it a five. The two friends make their way down the walkway. On the way to the ring, Zelda leans against the barricade with her back to the fans. She gives a smirk as they pat her on the back. Zelda rolls along the barricade slapping hands with fans as Sloane acknowledges the camera and talks to it. She mostly rattles on about breaking the fourth or starts talking about the latest episode of The Walking Dead.

Once at ringside, the two back away from the ring and charge at it at the same time. Zelda slides in under the bottom rope as Sloane jumps up to the apron and leaps over the top rope, showing great agility. Zelda gets to the top turnbuckle with her right leg outstretched over the top turnbuckle and proceeds to pump her fist into the air multiple times before stripping off her jacket and tossing it to the side. Meanwhile, Sloane leaps up on the bottom rope and leans over it with an excited smile on her face. She takes off her jacket and tosses it to the side as well. The two meet in the middle of the ring before shaking hands and going in for a quick hug of ultimate friendship.

JOHNSON: ”Looks like we’re going to start things off with August Frost and Sloane Atreyu. The tag champs have got to be backstage somewhere watching these two teams go at it.”

VASSA: ”One would think… But with these two teams being so new to 4CW they may not even be on the champs radar yet.”

JOHNSON: ”If Bitch TV wins tonight that should change…”

Sloane and August meet in the center of the ring and quickly begin to cautiously circle one another as the official calls for the opening bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

The two quickly lock up with a collar and elbow tie up. They jockey for position but August Frost uses his size to back Sloane against the ropes. He’s unable to further his position and quickly gets turned around by Sloane. With his back now against the ropes, August changes his grip and manages to squeeze Sloane into his abdomen with a side headlock. Sloane manages to push August off and sends him running across the ring. August bounces off of the ropes and knocks Sloane off of her feet with a running shoulder tackle. Sloane bounces off of the canvass and rolls towards her corner. August grabs Sloane by the foot but she counters by kicking him in the face. Sloane pops back up to her feet and approaches August Frost as he staggers backwards. August quickly grabs Sloane by the waist of her pants and drops back, forcing her to fall forward onto the middle rope. August runs and bounces off of the opposite ropes before charging Sloane. He jumps up, looking to land on her back but she rolls out of the way and he slides through the ropes, crashing to the outside.

JOHNSON: ”August crashed and burned. He was looking to bring all his body weight down on the upper back of Sloane Atreyu.”

VASSA: ”It looks like Sloane is going to take advantage of the situation!”

Sloane climbs out onto the apron and watches as August tries to climb back up to his feet. She runs along the ring apron before leaping off and connecting with a running senton. Sloane quickly hops back to her feet, just in time to see Anthony Frost turning around the corner of the ring. He charges and tries for a running clothesline but Sloane ducks underneath and automatically hits him with a front dropkick to the chest. Anthony flies backwards from the force and crashes into the security railing. Sloane turns her attention back to August, rolling him into the ring under before following directly behind him. Sloane lifts August up and grabs him with a double underhook as she backs up towards her corner. Zelda Orion reaches over the ropes and tags herself into the match. Sloane lifts August Frost up and drops him across her knee with a double underhook backbreaker before exiting the ring at the refs request. Zelda covers August with a full mount and lifts his head slightly before clobbering him with stiff forearm shots to the jaw.

JOHNSON: ”The Frost Brothers are completely out of sorts. Bitch TV is looking dominant tonight.”

VASSA: ”At this pace, this will be a huge statement win for Sloane Atreyu and Zelda Orion.”

Zelda climbs off of August and takes a few steps back. She stalks August as he pulls himself up to his feet. August spins towards Zelda and is quickly hit with a rolling elbow! August drops back but bounces off of the ropes. He throws a half hearted punch that Zelda ducks by doing a split which she follows with a questionable punch below the belt! August grabs himself and drops down to the mat. Zelda quickly crawls over onto August and hooks his leg for the pinfall.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

August shoots his arm up, lifting his shoulder off of the canvass to break the refs count. Zelda quickly turns to her partner and tags her back into the match.

JOHNSON: ”NETHERREALM! I can’t believe August found a way to kick out of that.”

VASSA: ”I think a nut shot like that would keep most men down! I’ve got to applaud August for finding the strength to stay in this match.”

Sloane climbs through the ropes and stands poised as Zelda hooks both of August’s feet. She drops back, launching August in the air with a slingshot. Sloane steps forward and catches August, driving him back down to the mat with a rock bottom! Sloane rolls up both of August’s legs for a quick cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Anthony Frost managed to circle around the ring and pull Sloane off of August by her feet, dragging her out of the ring. Sloane lands on her feet but gets dropped with a clothesline. Zelda climbs up to the top turnbuckle and throws herself at Anthony Frost, taking him out with a flying crossbody on the outside of the ring.

JOHNSON: ”Throwing caution to the wind! Zelda Orion just completely took out Anthony Frost!”

VASSA: ”The poor guy hasn’t even found his way legally into this match!”

JOHNSON: ”That’s what happens when you’re completely outmatched. Bitch TV has controlled the pace of this match from the get go.”

Zelda helps Sloane up to her feet and then the two turn their attention to the Frost Brothers. They toss August back into the ring and then move towards Anthony. They lift Anthony up to his feet and then sit him up on the ring apron. Zelda moves away from Sloane and Anthony as Sloane plants her feet and interlock her fingers at waist level. Zelda runs towards Sloane and uses her hands as a springboard before flipping Anthony back down with a Frankenstiener! Sloane rolls back into the ring and gets hit with a soccer kick to the ribs from August Frost. August drops down, hitting Sloane with a double axe handle to the back of the head. He rolls Sloane onto her back jumps into the air, looking to land a standing moonsault. Sloane manages to tuck her knees up to her chest to counter.

JOHNSON: ”Just when it looked like the Frost Brothers could amount some kind of offense Bitch TV hits an impressive Fastball Special outside of the ring and Sloane counters a standing moonsault.”

VASSA: ”Frost Brothers haven’t been able to take advantage of their opportunities to get back into this match. They only have themselves to blame.”

Sloane pulls herself up to her feet and turns to her corner, tagging Zelda Orion back into the match. Zelda climbs to the top rope and sits perched, waiting for Sloane. Sloane lifts August up and kicks him in the gut, doubling him over. She turns her back to him and hooks his arms, lifting him up for a vertebreaker. Sloane faces Zelda and nods her head. Zelda leaps off of the top rope and comes down with a double foot stomp as she leaps over Sloane, landing on August’s rear end, driving him down to the canvass neck first, a move they call Crossing the Streams! Zelda covers August and hooks a leg while Sloane moves to the side of the ring where Anthony is barely crawling around.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

Zelda pushes off of August and throws her arms over her head as Sloane wraps her arms around her partner. The official grabs both ladies by the wrist and hoists their arms over their heads as Mike Powers makes the official announcement.

POWERS: ”Here are your winners, by pinfall… Zelda Orion… Sloan Atreyu… BITCH TV!”

JOHNSON: ”An impressive finish from an impressive tag team.”

JOHNSON: ”Aidan Carlisle and Brian Williams meet your next threat to those tag straps you’re carrying around!”

Heading backstage we are greeted by the ever so attention grabbing look of Carmella Wilder wearing a dress that leaves little to the imagination. Much to the delight of male fans, some women fans, and Gabriel Hartman alike as he stands by with the manager/mother of Jett Wilder soon to wrestle in the biggest match of his young career.

HARTMAN: ”Standing by here with the lovely Carmella Wilder whose son later tonight will have a huge Number One Contender’s match with Drew Stevenson. How are you tonight Carmella?”

CARMELLA: ”Oh just lovely, it’s a Adrenaline night. My son has a chance at earning a shot at the Pride title, what isn’t there to love?”

Hartman and the rest of the crowd enjoy her bubbly attitude mostly because it comes with bouncing as he struggles through his follow up.

HARTMAN: ”Well there has certainly been no love lost between Drew and Jett. The two were bickering even before this match was announced and this week has been a constant war of words between them. After last week’s attack on Seamus surely you must at least be a bit worried?”

CARMELLA: ”I know that my son can handle himself in the ring, he’s faced plenty of stiff competition in the past. And every single time he comes out fine. That will be no different tonight and Drew’s threats will be proven as just talk.”

Gabriel nods his head keeping his eyes as best he can on her own .

HARTMAN: ”None the less we have seen you and Drew form somewhat of a understanding. Perhaps you were just looking out for your son, but it seemed as though the two of you got well acquainted.”

CARMELLA: ”I assure you that nothing happened between the two of us Gabriel, what happened was just business. I know my son can handle himself but at the same time why have issues if they are not needed? I mean I used to manage Drew and he and I were always cordial so I felt that it should remain that way. This is just a one on one match for a shot at the Pride championship. Just felt any added drama was not needed at all, so we took it out of the equation. It should be about just wrestling…Right Gabe?”

Hartman nods his head as he looks around..

HARTMAN: ”Have you seen the little guy by the way? Actually I think more importantly the fans have heard about your desires to step in the ring what is the prog–“

Before Hartman can finish the fans are exhausted when Jett Wilder appears in the screen ending any potential answer to that final question as Hartman sighs..

CARMELLA: ”Hey sweetie, Luiz was looking all over for you? Where were you?”

JETT: ”Well the guys were saying that the bathrooms were not working properly and that there was a terrible odor. Being the locker room leader that I am, I went in to see and for some reason the door locked behind me. Felt like someone was holding the other side but only heard laughing down the hall. They were right about the smell though so when I got out, I went and told the janitor so that the guys in the back didn’t have to deal with that.”

While everyone else including Gabriel realizes that Jett was the victim of a prank, he stands proudly as the locker room leader that he is..

CARMELLA: ”Oh….Great, let’s get you ready for the match ok?”

Hartman watches him go shaking his head as he does, almost feeling bad for the kid as the crowd watches the duo walk off his day not going great yet. But with his huge match still on the horizon he has a chance to seriously turn things around in a hurry with his Pride title as the show continues..

4CW cameras are backstage in the locker room of Cyrus Riddle. Riddle, sitting on one of the lavish chairs provided to him by Perry Wallace and 4CW management, is fully prepared for his Extreme Rules match with Lord Raab coming up shortly. As he reaches into his gym bag and pulls out some piano wire and a screwdriver, his attention is diverted to the opening of his locker room door. He stands up and nods his head as Perry Wallace walks into view. Cyrus smirks at him and shakes his hand.

RIDDLE: ”Perry fuckin’ Wallace, how’s the night treating you?”

WALLACE: ”Cyrus, how are you doing tonight, son?”

RIDDLE: ”Doing well, I’ll get a chance to show everyone just how at home I am when it comes to inflicting pain on others. Omerta truly comes into form when they see how I can take up Dakota’s mantle as a participant in the Extreme division.”

WALLACE: ”Those are some pretty big shoes to fill. Now we have Cashe reigning over the Extreme Division, shit is going to be hectic. I know what you can do which is why I placed you in this match.”

Cyrus nods his head in understanding.

RIDDLE: ”Absolutely, and I’ll paint the perfect picture of what Extreme can be under a Riddle regime. I’ve never had a problem filling shoes, or dethroning those who believe they are at the top.”

WALLACE: ”I know that’s the truth. There’s a reason I stopped by. I know you have your match coming up with Raab but I wanted to pick your brain for a minute.”

Wallace then walks over to a bench across the room and takes a seat, legs spread, one on each side. After getting comfortable, he looks down at his phone for a moment before placing it in his pocket. Riddle looks at him with curiosity before taking a seat a few feet away.

RIDDLE: ”Okay, what’s up? Seems like it’s urgent.”

WALLACE: ”It’s not really urgent. I had a conversation with Frankie Morrison earlier. It’s no secret that he’s aligned himself with Madison, Cashe, Niobe, and CJ. Fucking Unstable coming in 4CW and claiming territory. I don’t know what to think honestly. I wanted to get your take on it.”

Riddle pauses a moment to think before he responds. He’s well versed in the methods of the Unstable, having dealt with them before.

RIDDLE: ”Honestly, they’re more of a cancer than anything else. They want to claim territory, but they are no different from anyone else. The problem with them in the past, is that nobody has stood up to them in a way that send them a message that they are not wanted. There are certain… specialty… options that are required to take on them. You cut the cancer, and everything dies with it that causes the problem.”

WALLACE: ”I’m just a little shocked I guess you could say with Frankie’s alignment with them now. We were close, he helped me get this place off the ground, right there with me in the trenches. I just have a feeling that something is going to happen but I can’t put my finger on it. Maybe it’s karma coming back on me for some shit I’ve done, shit that we’ve done.”

RIDDLE: ”What we’ve done has no bearing on the Unstable’s arrival in 4CW. They are two separate situations. But, dare I say, you can consult the same solution. You know they will have to be stopped, they won’t just leave on their own or cease to exist. If you want the problem dealt with, you’ll have to make sure it’s handled properly and timely.”

WALLACE: ”You’re right. I’ll sit back for a bit, keep an eye on the situation. I just know that the past has started to weigh on my thoughts lately. I guess that happens when you deal with the Butcher.”

Riddle shrugs, but dismisses the worries with a wave of the hand.

RIDDLE: ”Though that may be true, our past dealings are handled. You know that I play good damage control, and it’s all under control. It’d be fair to say that by gones can be by gones in due time. I’ve handled things well, and in a genuine fashion, so ease your mind. The present and future are priority.”

Unable to keep a straight face, Wallace stands up from the bench before walking towards the center of the room.

WALLACE: ”You are pretty good at the damage control, Mr. Twitter Loverboy. How are things at home by the way? I have this feeling that shit is about to hit the fan. I don’t need pussy clouding your mind. It’s bad enough I have to fight for Thanksgiving dinner.”

Riddle can’t help but to laugh, as his constant back and forths with Wallace and Tate have almost become daily.

RIDDLE: ”Business is always business, and I never let anything cloud my judgement. Home is good, aside from having to calm Tate down from wanting to kill you at certain moments. If I can keep the peace there, I can keep the peace here, although I’ll use different methods. We’ll come up with something for Thanksgiving, if it means that much to you. However, if you want me to prove to you that my judgement is fine, just watch as I make an example out of the ‘monster’ Lord Raab tonight. 4CW is my wrestling home, and I’ll protect it as my own from anyone.”

WALLACE: ”I can already tell that this match is going to be a brutal one. Don’t take Raab lightly, he’s one tough son of a bitch. But anyway, I just wanted to stop by for a moment and pick your brain on this cancer that has made its way into 4CW. Where do you stand with CJ?”

Riddle took a breath and looked somewhat indifferent.

RIDDLE: ”CJ and I have a few complicated matters between us, but I know him well. Although I have no animosity toward him anymore, business is business, and if that means fighting his machine then so be it. At the end of the day, him and I can almost kill each other and understand. Also, I owe him a defeat or two from our past dealings.”

WALLACE: ”I guess I could be somewhat to blame for this happening. After all, I did sign him just a few short weeks ago. I’m not going to turn down talent and there’s no denying that the man has that. A little chaos within is only going to bring more ratings. I’m just not going to be the one on the losing end of all this madness. We’re not going to be on the losing end.”

RIDDLE: ”You never have to be on the losing end if you look to those you can trust to get the job done. Some may be a bit unhinged, or possibly a bit too violent, but that’s what you will need. The Unstable can be dangerous, but even they have limits that say, people such as myself, do not have. I did defeat Bishop and Brooks two months in a row. Granted, the 4CW version is a bit stronger, but nobody is untouchable. You think about it, and then you let me know. Anarchy and madness are so much fun.”

With a smile on his face, Wallace smacks his hands together in excitement.

WALLACE: ”That’s what the fuck I’m talking about! Alright, well, I’ll let you get back to prepping for this extreme throwdown with Raab. He’s going to come at you like a madman because that’s exactly what he is. Don’t turn your back to him for one second.”

RIDDLE: ”He may be a madman, but he’s a reckless madman. I have more composure and less concern for him than he has for me. I think I’m going to start Thanksgiving early, actually, by practicing my carving skills in the ring. Systematic dissection always defeats chaotic luck.”

WALLACE: ”You do have a way with words. I’m going to get going, I have a couple of things to take care of.”

RIDDLE: ”Okay, and let me know what you figure out, I’ll keep my line open.”

Riddle extended his hand as he stood up, shaking Perry’s with a respectful understanding before he focuses back on his gym bag full of extreme weaponry for the night. Walking to the door, Wallace places his hand on the handle and stops to think to himself for a moment. Turning back, he clears his throat before grabbing Riddle’s attention once more.

WALLACE: ”If something happens to me tonight, just be there for me.”

Wallace then turns back to the door before opening it and stepping out into the hallway. Standing outside of the door, Wallace looks down both ends of the hall, as if keeping an eye out for any unsuspecting parties. He then closes the door behind him as the scene cuts back to ringside.

UNDERCARD
JOHNNY MENTAL VS. BRYAN WILLIAMS

“And the lights go out…”

From stagelight to spotlight, lights in the room drop. The only light is the occasional camera flash, and the four large screens which show a video of a cloud darkened, thundery sky.

“And the lights go out…”

The clouds part, shafts of sunlight pierce the roiling sky. All at once, the Blank Theory’s “Middle Of Nowhere” blares in full chorus, the picture on the screens flash to a montage of Johnny Mental’s high risk moves and the lights rise, on but still subdued. Stood directly beneath the screens, hooded and arms outstretched, stands “The MorningStar” Johnny Mental. He whips around and crouches, trenchoat swirling around him, baring the skull emblazoned on his snood as he surveys the crowd left and right.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring … From Cardiff, Wales, standing at six feet, one inch, and weighing at two hundred and fifteen pounds … The “Prince Of Insanity” … Johnny Mental!”

The crowd cheers, reaching over the barricade with outstretched hands. Mental straightens and takes off down the aisle and full pelt, arms outstretched as far as he can to slap hands as he runs to the ring. Without checking his speed he slides into the ring on his stomach, coming to he knees in the centre of the ring. He whips his head back to flip his hood off, arms outstretched in supplication, soaking in the cheers of the crowd.

Agile as a cat he hops to his feet, removing his trenchcoat and draping it over the ropes for a stagehand to collect. He rips off his snood and, without use of his hands, jumps onto the second rope, balancing against the top rope, and throws the snood into the crowd for some fan to catch. He grins, and raises an arm in salute to his Children of the Night, then hops back to the mat, twitching his head and shoulders to limber up, ready for the match ahead.

JOHNSON: ”Here is the newcomer making his 4CW Debut here tonight … The “Prince of Insanity”, Johnny Mental! By the wave of cheers, seems like he’s already a favorite!”

VASSA: ”So far, he looks ready to show off. Let’s see if he can grab one over one-half of the 4CW Tag Champions.”

JOHNSON: ”Well he should provide some thrilling high-flying abilities in this contest tonight. Bryan has to deliver on his A-game!”

POWERS: ”…And his opponent…”

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 and his title slung over his shoulder. The song continues to play, as Bryan stands on the top of the ramp. With his head down, Bryan holds up his title for all to see. 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. Bryan turns to the nearest turnbuckle, climbing up onto the middle rope and once again holding his title for all to see.

JOHNSON: ”Bryan Williams had a tough go on the last episode of Adrenaline 33. Falling to the ‘Epitome Of Excellence’ Cyrus Riddle. The look he’s got in his eyes tonight, he’s looking to get some sweet revenge against the newcomer.”

VASSA: ”Cyrus was the better man that night. He put Bryan in “Tap Mode” with such ease. Johnny lookin’ to erase the past and deliver with a victory here tonight folks!

JOHNSON: ”And even in defeat, from the tone in his promo this week, seems his ego hasn’t taken that damaging of a hit as he still considers himself the best.”

VASSA: ”Well, he is. Sure Cyrus Riddle got the better of him last outing, but this is a new week, new opponent to which Bryan sits currently as the best.”

DING!!! DING!!!

With the bell ringing, before anything would pop off, Bryan Williams chose to extend a hand out to the newcomer, Johnny Mental, shining a smile, ensuring all was good sportsmanship. Mental smiled back for a moment but as he looked at William’s hand, he shook his head sideways, showing a sign of disrespect to one-half of the Tag Champions. Bryan shrugged his shoulders as both got in their stance. They circled each other for a moment before going into a hard lock-up, but Bryan slipped free and followed up with quick forearm shots to the face of Mental, making him stagger backwards, but not before grabbing him and whipping him hard into the ropes as on the rebound, Bryan flips Mental over and out with a right high knee to the gut. Bryan pulls Mental up by his hair, looking to set him up for the next move but Mental is quick to react, landing a gut shot via his right hand, breaking the grab Bryan had. Mental delivered with a kick to the gut that followed with a snap suplex. Mental is up and brings Bryan Williams with him as he shoves him into the near-corner. Mental wastes no time in hesitation as he ‘jumps’ on Williams with punches and kicks ferociously as he was looking to really open a can of whoop-ass on the “Leviathan”. Bryan gets a minor taste of Mental’s wrath as he stumbles out of the corner. Johnny travels to the outside of the apron as he climbs the turnbuckle.

JOHNSON: ”And right off the bat, we’re seeing just an ounce-size of what the new face, Johnny Mental is like. Fierce, aggressive and unapologetic.”

VASSA: ”What disrespect he showed the Champ to start off the match. Not accepting the man’s handshake. I do love the intensity in this match so far, I’ll say that. Bryan delivered some rough shots early and took some just moements ago.”

JOHNSON: ”Yeah, and by the looks of things right now, he’s about to take a lot more!”

Perched like a hawk, ready to dive and strike, Johnny decides the latter after Bryan turned around and immediately backed out of distance, leading to Mental to hop down from the turnbuckle. Williams leads in on the charge with a running dropkick that sends Mental back to the corner he came out of. Williams delivers another dropkick, this time to the ‘downed’ Johnny Mental. Bryan Williams wastes no time as he pulls him back up to his feet. Grabbing him around the waist, Williams takes him over with ease with an Overhead Belly-to-Belly Suplex. Williams gets up, brushing back his hair as he glances to the audience, he plants a foot right into the middle of Mental’s back, as he drills it in a couple times before dropping down with an elbow to the same area.

JOHNSON: ”Williams putting the “Umph!” in that elbow drop to the back of Johnny Mental!”

VASSA: ”Bryan has full-control right now on Mental. Down and on the ground. Stabilized. The ‘Leviathan’ is at work!”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed he is. How long can he sustain this though is the question.”

Williams backs off, a wide smirk on his face as he looks down at Johnny Mental slowly slither on the mat. Williams is leaning on the ropes as he watches and waits. Mental finds himself on the bad side of being upright, as he managed to sit upright but failed to see Williams lurking from the side, who came in crashing with a Shining Wizard, putting Mental right back down and possibly out of it for a bit. He gets on top of Mental for the cover…

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Mental somehow mentally-aware of the count, kicking out after that wallop of a knee to the face.”

VASSA: ”Surely thought he was a ‘goner’ after that knee. Whew, Bryan Williams did some facial arrangement there!”

Bryan gets to his feet after Mental’s kickout at two. He grabs a handful of Johnny’s hair as he brings him to his feet. Williams gets into position as he lifts and drops Mental across his knee with a backbreaker. You could hear the screeching howl of pain from that shot as his back has already been taking some hefty damage. Williams smiled, knowing he had Mental all where he wanted him. Lifting Mental up to his feet once again, he gets behind him, yelling out something before grabbing Mental and looking to hoist him up on an angle with back-angled suplex but for Mental, he had other ideas as he somehow managed to roll out of that attempted suplex and drop to his feet behind Williams. Williams turn and is met quickly with a running dropkick that takes Bryan for a loop as he spin and lands on the ropes. Rubbing his eyes, he comes back towards Mental but is met with a swift kick to the face from Mental’s step-up Enziguri. Bryan goes down to one knee as the crowd is loving the brief comeback of the new-comer. Johnny waves for Bryan to come for more. Bryan gets back onto both feet as he comes after Mental. Mental runs into the ropes and pops off the middle rope with a springboard forearm that ‘taps’ Williams right on the nose, taking him down completely.

JOHNSON: ”Johnny Mental is back on track and he now has Williams on the fence. Swift comeback.”

VASSA: ”Bryan needs to grab control of this match again … or else.”

JOHNSON: ”That look on Johnny’s face, fans that follow him obviously know what this means and just by assumption, it means something bad!”

Johnny Mental nodding and rocking his head up and down, he sees his opportunity to go even further and with Bryan up onto one knee, Mental grabs him, places him against the ropes as he lands several knife-edged chops across Williams. Mental takes a few steps back before rushing forward and clotheslining Bryan over the ropes as he collides back-first with the floor. Johnny nearly tumbled over as well but held himself with the aid of the ropes. He looks around, throwing up his hands, getting the crowd amped and up for whatever was about to come. He looks outside to see Bryan rolling over onto his knees as he tries to gather himself. Using the barricade as leverage to get back up. Inside, Johnny ‘pants’ up and down in excitement as he looks to drop a dime. He does exactly that after running from the opposite side of the ring and flying over the ropes and out right onto Williams who clashes even harder with the floor and barricade this go-round.

JOHNSON: ”High-flying, risk-taking extraordinaire, Johnny Mental. Really taking it to Tag Champ here tonight. You can clearly say Bryan was not expecting this kind of showing. This kind of battle.”

VASSA: ”Bryan is always prepared … It’s just right now, he’s letting this guy get a little shine before putting him in his place.”

JOHNSON: ”Really looks the other way around to me and many others with this. The skillset of Mental here has the “Leviathan” on skates. Mental said he was now a free man, free of the shackles and he was going to let loose. It’s clear right here, right now.”

Johnny Mental got up from his all-on-four position and launched himself underneath the bottom rope to evade the count as it was already on five. Williams was still inching like a snail with his movement. As the count reached seven, Williams garnered some urgency in his movement. Nearing the ring, he grabbed the apron, using it to bring himself up as the count now reaches nine. Just when you think the match was going to end on a count-out, Williams make it in just seconds before the ten-count. Huffing, Williams continues to move, as he was now in the corner.

JOHNSON: ”Bryan is just looking to gather enough time to breathe. That was a close call with that ten count. Johnny is looking to continue his pace and Williams is looking to find a rest-stop.”

VASSA: ”Gassed. Completely gassed. Bryan has to dig deep and pull this one out.”

Mental was up and just as before, he was ready to deliver the next attack and keep the Tag Champ off rhytm and as he rushed towards Bryan in the corner, Bryan wisely moved out of the way. Mental using his creativity in the ring, scaled the corner turnbuckle as he flipped and caught Bryan with the Whisper in the Wind, delivering yet more buzz from the already live audience. Bryan can’t seem to escape the wrath as he was seriously in the middle of crossfire. Mental ran off the ropes and delivered a flipping senton across the chest of Williams. Mental kept it going, not choosing to stop as he had this match. He lifted Bryan to his feet, whipping him into the ropes. Mental came from the other end as he leaped and went for a reverse heel kick but somehow, somehow Williams dodged and saw Mental land with a faceplant into the mat. Bryan smiled, knowing he was lucky to not get hit with that. He leaned on the ropes for a second to grab a second wind. He sees Mental beginning to stir and proceeds towards him.

JOHNSON: ”Lucky break for Williams. He needs to capitalize on Mental’s whiff.”

VASSA: ”He knows what to do!”

Williams was indeed aware that the time was ticking on him fast and he needed to come through in the clutch. Looking to find a way to ruin the newcomer’s debut, Williams went to lift Mental off the mat but in return got caught blindsided with what is called “The Twilight Kick” as it certainly sent the Champ into a spin and onto both knees as it too caught the folks off guard. Mental ran for the ropes as he pumped his fists. He leaped and bounced off the ropes rotating and fullfilling the 720 degrees as he delivered a spiked DDT to Williams as he found himself almost on the otherside of the ring. The crowd was going wild inside the Bankers Life Fieldhouse to the follow up of “The Raven’s Call”. Mental scurried over and dropped an arm on top of Williams…

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

POWERS: Your Winner by Pinfall … “The Prince of Insanity” Johnny Mental!

JOHNSON: ”Johnny Mental delivers an epic statement on his debut, taking down one half of the 4CW Tag Champs. It started off evenly but as the match went on and as Johnny gained ground, he made Williams work to his pace and it did not end well!”

VASSA: ”Yeah, another bad night for Bryan Williams but an outstanding performance from Johnny Mental. He stayed true to his words and delivered. The Champ, even though he doesn’t often overlook his opponents, that was the case tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”Can’t wait to see what comes next for “The Prince of Insanity” here in 4CW!”

Backstage, Jason Cashe is seen standing outside of Perry Wallace’s office. Walking back and forth in front of the door, he paces staring at the ground below his feet. From down the hallway comes the voice of 4CW’s Road Agent, Tommy Knox who comes running into the scene carrying a small box with him. Cashe snaps up a stare as Knox stops and presents him with the unmarked cardboard box.

KNOX: “Here, it has arrived!”

CASHE: “It’s about time! Did you check it out?”

Knowing Knox, Cashe knew the man wanted to see it. If it’s something shiny or something that can cause trouble odds are Tommy Knox wants to be involved. Much like Cashe, the two shared the quality of being around trouble regardless if it was sought after or not. Yet Knox stands there shaking his head no, looking at their surroundings to see who might be watching like this was illegal or something.

CASHE: “Not sure I believe you…You bring the keys with you?”

KNOX: “Oh I so wish I could see his face!”

CASHE: “I’d guess a mix between constipated and nuts crushed.”

After unlocking the door to Wallace’s office, Knox and Cashe slap hands twice and give a slight nod to one another. With box in hand, Cashe backs into the office with a grin stretched on his face.

Walking through the halls, Mannie Romero looks as if on to be a mission. After turning the corner, his eyes widen as he seems to have found what it is he’s looking for.

ROMERO: “Hey, Wally! The note your son placed on me out there in the ring, was it from you?”

Standing down the hall, Wallace looks back as a smile comes to his face. The two then slowly approach each other as Mannie unfolds the piece of paper.

ROMERO: “What is this?”

Holding the paper up, the camera then zooms in to reveal the word “FATE” written on it in blue ink. Bursting into laughter, Wallace holds his belly before finally calming down and taking a serious tone.

WALLACE: ”I’m actually pretty busy tonight, Mannie. But I would like to explain the note. Now as much as I would love to kick your ass to the curb, for some god awful reason the folks at the network like having you around. I don’t know why, but they do.”

ROMERO: “I can think of a fe–”

WALLACE: ”Ssshhhhhhh… there’s no need for that. You’ve been a thorn in my side for a very, very long time. There’s no denying that! Although I can’t fire you right here and now, I can however ship your ass to Fate. It will be good for you, bro. You’re the “Main Attraction” after all. Maybe you can finally live up to that name.”

ROMERO: “What the fuck is Fate?”

WALLACE: ”You should really pay more attention. It might actually do you some good. You’ll be fine, I have faith young one.”

Wallace then brushes past Mannie and heads down the hall, leaving him behind. Confused, Mannie watches as he walks away before balling the piece of paper up and throw it to the floor.

UNDERCARD
EXTREME RULES MATCH
CYRUS RIDDLE VS. LORD RAAB

VASSA: ”We’ve already had one dose of extreme earlier in the night and now it’s time for seconds!”

JOHNSON: ”We already witnessed one horrific ending so let’s hope that this doesn’t end the same.”

VASSA: ”What was wrong with the ending to the match earlier with Cashe and Nick? I hope Cyrus and Raab can up the ante with this upcoming match.”

JOHNSON: ”Vinny, we do not know what condition Nick is in at the moment. For all we know, his career ended here tonight. I don’t want to see that happen again, not to anyone.”

VASSA: ”Lighten up, Steve. These wrestlers know what they’re getting into when they agree to these types of matches.”

JOHNSON: ”All I’m saying is there’s a limit to how much is too much and Cashe clearly crossed that earlier tonight.”

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)”

POWERS: ”The following match is scheduled for one fall and will take place under the 4CW Extreme Rules!”

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, hailing from London, England and weighing in at two hundred twenty eight pounds, he is “The Archetype”, “The Epitome of Excellence”, Cyrus Riddle!”

As Cyrus makes his way down to the ring, the crowd erupts in madness.

VASSA: ”What the hell?”

JOHNSON: ”It’s Raab!”

With a sledge hammer in hand, Raab runs out from the back and races down the entrance ramp towards Riddle. Hearing the tone of the crowd change abruptly, Riddle slowly turns around only to get caught off guard as Raab lunges forward with the sledge hammer in both hands and jabs him in the stomach with the head.

VASSA: ”I guess Raab isn’t too keen on waiting for his turn!”

JOHNSON: ”Let’s get to it!”

DING!!! DING!!!

With Riddle lunged over, Raab locks his hands around each end of the sledge hammer and slowly raises it above his head. He then slams it down across the top of Riddle’s back, knocking him face first to the ramp. Sliding out of the ring, the ref rushes to the action as the fans on both sides of the entrance ramp go wild.

VASSA: ”Well there’s the bell and this thing is now official!”

Rolling over to his back, Riddle looks up at Raab who stares down at him with the sledge hammer still in hand. Raab then raises it upward before swinging down and aiming directly for Riddle’s head.

CLANK!!!

As Riddle rolls out of the way, Raab slams the sledge hammer down onto the entrance ramp, leaving a huge dent behind. Raab then takes another swing for Riddle’s head as he rolls onto his back.

CLANK!!!

Coming up short again, Raab lifts the sledge hammer up from the ramp, revealing a dent larger than the one left before. Riddle continues to roll away, creating a bit of distance between him and Raab before popping up to his feet. Once up, he then removes his jacket as Raab charges towards him. Taking a swing for Riddle’s mid-section, Raab barely misses as Riddle hops backwards. With the jacket in hand, Riddle then throws it over Raab’s face, blinding him from his surroundings. With Raab’s sight taken away from him, Riddle then charges at him, wraps his arms around Raab’s waist and tackles him to the ramp. As Raab’s back crashes to the ramp, his grip on the sledge hammer breaks loose as it slides a few feet away.

VASSA: ”Well that’s one way to slow the monster down!”

JOHNSON: ”Lord Raab is indeed a monster but if he can’t see then there isn’t much he can do.”

With the jacket still covering Raab’s face, Riddle mounts himself on top of Raab and then begins to violently swing downward, landing lefts and rights to Raab’s head. He then grabs Raab by the sides of his head and lifts it up from the ramp before slamming it back down, smacking his head onto the metal. With Raab’s resistance dying down, Riddle then pushes himself up to his feet. He then reaches down, grabs a handful of his jacket and rips it away from Raab’s face. After tossing the jacket aside, Riddle then grabs Raab by the arm and slowly drags the big man to his feet. Locking onto Raab’s head with one hand, Riddle then walks him down the ramp and towards the ring. Once at ringside, Riddle turns and sets his eyes on the nearby ringside steps.

Taking a few steps forward and dragging Raab along, Riddle gains a little momentum before slinging Raab forward and throwing him back first into the steps. As Raab’s body crashes into the steps, he knocks them over with the impact. Riddle then lifts a piece of the steps up and then slams it down onto Raab’s body as he lays on his side. Although the crowd is screaming at the top of their lungs at ringside, Raab releases a howling grunt that pierces through the airwaves. Rolling over to his stomach, Raab forces himself up as he pushes against the floor. Taking notice, Riddle then rushes in and hits him over the back of the shoulders with a forearm.

VASSA: ”I don’t even know why we set these steps up before extreme matches, they always get knocked over!”

JOHNSON: ”Well now that the action has made it here at ringside, there are plenty of other weapons scattered around the ring at their disposal.”

Riddle then pulls Raab up but as he does, Raab reaches nearby and grabs a glass plate. As he stands, Raab swings with all of his might and shatters it across the top of Riddle’s head, knocking him away as the glass shards fly through the air upon impact. Falling backwards, Riddle trips over a piece of the steps and falls over it, crashing to the floor. As Riddle shakes it off, Raab quickly leaps over the steps and lands on top of Riddle. Grabbing ahold of Riddle’s head, Raab then thrusts his head forward and connects with a brutal headbutt to the center of the forehead. Not letting go of his grip on Riddle, Raab then gives him another headbutt followed by another and another. As if possessed, Raab continues to slam his head forward into Riddle’s, not showing any concern for his own well being. After a few skull crushing headbutts, Raab then rolls over to his side, feeling the effects of the damage inflicted taking its toll on him.

JOHNSON: ”Talk about crazy! Lord Raab doesn’t seem the least bit concerned with his own health after that display of violence.”

VASSA: ”Raab appears to be in a world of pain himself after that attack but I can only imagine Riddle feeling it a little more being on the receiving end.”

Both men then begin to slowly come to and start pushing themselves up from the floor. Although the are moving at a slow pace, the two race to get up before the other. Making it to his feet first, Raab looks over to Riddle who is just now pushing himself up from one knee. Raab then lunges towards him with both hands aimed directly at his throat. Still somewhat alert, Riddle side steps Raab as he lunges towards him and grabs ahold of his head, slamming it into the ring post behind him.

DONG!!!

Taking a couple of steps backwards, Raab wobbles back and forth but still manages to stay on his feet. Riddle then grabs him by the shoulders and pulls him in while stepping to the side once more and slamming him face first into the ring post for a second time.

DONG!!!

Not letting go of Raab, Riddle then rolls him into the ring and then begins his search for the next object to be introduced into the match. Spotting a table on the opposite side of the apron, Riddle limps towards it before reaching down and lifting it up from the floor. He then pulls the legs out from underneath and locks them in place. After standing the table up, riddle then drags it across the floor and sets it beside the ring, against the apron.

VASSA: ”Things might be getting a little more interesting!”

JOHNSON: ”Cyrus is up to something but with the table on the outside of the ring, Raab could turn things around within the ropes.”

VASSA: ”I just wish Riddle would set that table up on this side of the ring so we can get an up close look at whoever ends up going through it.”

Riddle then looks down the adjacent apron and spots a could of chairs side by side on the floor. Walking along the side of the ring, he makes his way over to them. Picking them both up from the floor, Riddle tosses one over the top rope and into the ring. With the other one in hand, he then slides into the ring as Raab slowly begins to get back to his feet on the other side of the ring.

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know what Cyrus is up to but throwing a second chair in there could backfire if Raab were to get his hands on it.”

VASSA: ”Maybe we’ll see these two play musical chairs.”

Back to his feet, Riddle charges across the ring towards Raab with the chair held above his head. Taking a swing for the fences, Riddle goes for Raab’s head but misses as he rolls out of the way. The chair crashes down onto the top of the corner, sending a loud echo throughout the arena. As Riddle turns around, he looks across the ring where Raab stands straight up with the other chair in hand. As the two stare at one another, the suspense builds throughout the arena. The two then break the standoff and charge towards one another with the chairs in hand. As they draw near one another, the two swing the chairs forward, slamming them against each other in the center of the ring.

CLANK

Quick on his feet, Raab then jabs the chair into Riddle’s stomach, forcing him to lunge over after the blunt contact. Raab then raises the chair up with both hands gripped firmly around the legs and then swings downward, hitting Riddle over the back with it and knocking him down to the canvas.

CRACK

On all fours, Riddle looks down at the chair on the canvas in his view. Before he can make his move to grab it, Raab then hits him over the back once more.

CRACK

Riddle’s body then collapses to the mat as his arms give out from under him. Raab then slams the chair to the canvas beside him and grabs ahold of Riddle’s head, pulling his somewhat limp body up from the mat. Forcing Riddle’s head down, Raab then places it between his legs before wrapping his arms around Riddle’s waist. He then lifts Riddle up into the air and holds him upside down for a moment before dropping down and planting Riddle’s head into the steel chair with a piledriver.

CLANK

JOHNSON: ”It looks like bringing those chairs into the ring has in fact backfired on Cyrus.”

VASSA: ”A piledriver by itself is a dangerous move but adding a chair into the mix could end someone’s night in an instant.”

JOHNSON: ”Wait a second… I think… Yes! Cyrus’ head is busted open!”

VASSA: ”That’s one way to do it. Look at the size of that dent left in the chair!”

JOHNSON: ”The blood is starting to flow pretty well from that gash in the top of Cyrus’ head.”

Raab then crawls over top of Riddle and rubs his hand over the top of his head, smearing blood all over his fingers. With an evil look on his face, Raab then rubs the blood across his mask before hooking Riddle’s leg and going for the pin.

ONE

.

.

TW–

JOHNSON: ”Cyrus kicked out!”

VASSA: ”How in the fu–“

JOHNSON: ”This one isn’t over yet!”

Popping his head up in a rage, Raab screams across Riddle’s body at the official. he then pushes himself up from Riddle and approaches the official, backing him against the ropes. Fearing for his life, the official races along the ropes to the other end. In a fit of rage, Raab then turns back to Riddle and slowly closes in on him. Reaching down and grabbing him by the head and arm, Raab pulls him up to his feet before latching onto his wrist with both hands. Raab then whips Riddle towards the ropes where the table sits just on the outside. As Riddle’s back presses against the ropes, Riddle reaches out with both arms and quickly wraps them around the top rope, preventing himself from rebounding.

Raab then takes off from stand still and rushes towards Riddle only to lift his foot into the air while closing it and connecting with a running big boot to the chest. Riddle then releases the ropes and drops down to one knee but as he does, Raab grabs ahold of his head and pulls it in between his legs. Raab then wraps his arms around Riddle’s waist and goes to lift him up into the air. Just as Riddle’s feet lift up from the canvas, Riddle extends his leg and uses the bottom rope to prevent Raab from lifting him any further. Raab then drops Riddle back down to his feet and as he does, Riddle finds a burst of energy and begins to stand upward, lifting Raab into the air.

VASSA: ”Uh-oh!”

Riddle then stands straight up and as he does, he flips Raab over his back, over the top rope and down to the table below, crashing through it as his body collides with the wood.

CRUNCH

VASSA: ”HOLY SHIT!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Cyrus counters and sends Raab up and over the top rope and through the table below!”

VASSA: ”That was one hell of a fall! Luckily for Raab, he had the table to soften it up a bit!”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know if you can actually consider that as being lucky for Raab.”

Riddle then stumbles forward, barely able to stay on his feet but does as he regains his footing. Out of breath, he turns around to look down at the mess made with Raab’s body surrounded by broken wood and debris. Surprised, Riddle’s eye widen as Raab begins moving around over the pieces of broken wood. He then turns to the adjacent side of the ring and climbs through the ropes and down to the floor. At the far ring post, a spool of barbed wire rests, catching his eye. Riddle then limps towards it, showing signs of wear and tear from the punishment endured thus far.

After picking it up from the floor, Riddle turns back to look at Raab who has now began to pull himself up to his feet, using the side of the ring as leverage. Making his way towards Raab, Riddle slowly approaches him while unwinding the spool of barbed wire and stretching it are far as his hands will reach to his side. After making the turn around the corner of the ring, Riddle gets an unpleasant surprise as Raab erupts to his feet and catching him with a powerful punch to the eye. Stumbling to his side, Riddle crashes into the steel barricade that stops his momentum but inflicts a bit of pain to his ribs as the top pounds against his flesh.

VASSA: ”Just when you thought The Green Disease was down, there he is! “

JOHNSON: ”Cyrus didn’t even see it coming as he made the turn at the corner. Raab came out of nowhere!”

Raab rushes in on Riddle and delivers a running knee to his exposed ribs. Dropping the barbed wire to the floor, Riddle holds his side after the strike to the side. Raab then grabs him by the head with both hands and pulls it away from the barricade before slamming it towards it. Planting both hands on top of the barricade, Riddle stops his bodies momentum as his face hovers only an inch or so above the top. Riddle then jabs his arm back and plants his elbow into Raab’s groin, breaking his hold on him. Taking baby steps backwards, Raab roars in pain as the feeling settles in his stomach.

Reaching down for the barbed wire, Riddle then wraps it around his arm over and over, piercing himself with the bards and drawing blood. After covering his arm from wrist to elbow, Riddle then lunges towards Raab and hits him with a European uppercut, using his forearm wrapped with the sharp barbs. As Riddle pulls his arm away from Raab, a green colored liquid begins to ooze from a laceration on his throat. Riddle then fires with another European uppercut and then a third, knocking Raab backwards and down to one knee. As Raab is lunged over, the green liquid continues to ooze from his throat, dripping down to the floor.

VASSA: ”What the hell?!”

JOHNSON: ”I know Lord Raab has talked about changing the color of his blood from red to green but this is something one can only believe by seeing it in person.”

VASSA: ”Is it contagious?”

Riddle then walks behind Raab. Looking down on him and surprised at the sight of the green liquid, he takes a deep breath before applying a half nelson with his arm not covered in barbed wire. Riddle then wraps the barbed wire covered arm across Raab’s throat and locks his hands.

JOHNSON: ”This may end as a Silent Night for Lord Raab!”

Riddle then locks in the katahajime and cranks down with force, piercing Raab’s throat with the barbs running across it. Raab begins to wave his arms violently, trying to break away from the hold but only wears himself out as Riddle sets the move in for good. Pulling backwards on Raab’s head, Riddle falls backwards to the floor and pulls Raab on top of him. He then wraps both legs around Raab’s body and locks in the scissor hold. Fighting to break out, Raab slowly wears himself down as the violent struggle begins to die off.

VASSA: ”Raab isn’t giving up!”

JOHNSON: ”He needs to do something because if he doesn’t it’s going to be lights out before too long.”

The official checks with Raab who refuses to submit. After a few more moments, Raab’s body goes limp a Riddle continues choking him out at ringside. The official then lifts Raab’s arm into the air before releasing his grip, watching as it falls back to the floor. Lifting it a second time, the official lets go only to have it drop again. With two strikes, the official slowly raises Raab’s arm up for a third time and holds it up momentarily.

JOHNSON: ”If Lord Raab’s arm falls to the floor one more time that’s going to be it.”

VASSA: ”Look at the green shit covering Raab’s body and Riddle’s arm! It’s everywhere!”

JOHNSON: ”If that is in fact blood, Lord Raab will have lost quite a bit by the time this thing is all said and done.”

The official then releases Raab’s arm and it drops instantly to the floor, smacking it with a thud as Raab lies unconscious.

JOHNSON: ”That’s it! Raab is out of it!”

VASSA: ”What a mess!”

Riddle then releases his hold from around Raab’s throat and pushes him off oh his body and over to the side. Standing to his feet, Riddle looks down at the pool of green liquid and then at his body covered in it as well.

“Anarchy in the U.K.” then hits the speakers, catching Riddle’s attention as he looks up and stares over the crowd thirsty for more violence. Stepping in beside Riddle, the official then raises his arm into the air as the sound of the bell echoes throughout the arena.

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, “The Archetype” CYRUS RRIIDDDDLLEE!!!”

Riddle then raises his other arm into the air, still wrapped in barbed wire with blood trickling from the small lacerations resulting from the barbs piercing his flesh. He then drops his arms to his side and proceeds up the ramp as the music continues to blare over the speakers.

JOHNSON: ”That was one heck of a match!”

VASSA: ”It was a bloodbath! Raab is bleeding out green ooze all over the place. Riddle is bleeding from his arm and head. Hopefully Cyrus doesn’t catch anything from Raab.”

JOHNSON: ”Cyrus had his doubters heading into this match but after witnessing this first hand, I think it’s safe to say that he owned up to everything he said he would.”

VASSA: ”If we’re going to see more of him in the extreme division then I hope Cashe is paying attention in the back because Cyrus means business!”

JOHNSON: ”While we get things cleaned up here at ringside, we’re going to go backstage for a few moments. We’ll be right back!”

WALLACE: “Give me a few minutes, I’ll be quick!”

A soft pack of Baby Wipes held tight under his arm pit, Perry Wallace hurries into his office. Brushing off a few people who wanted his attention in the hallways, he seemed to not want to be bother at the moment. Locking the door, his back to his desk, he turns around and jumps back in a flinch as he lays eyes on Jason Cashe sitting behind his desk. In the Boss’s chair even! Wallace glances back realizing he had locked the only exit to the situation.

CASHE: “Hello Wally…How ya doing?”

WALLACE: “What do you want Cashe? Why in my office? What did you do, did you touch anything?”

Sitting up in the big chair, Cashe leans forward. Putting his elbows onto the desktop. Papers scattered around, the expensive tablet sat up on it’s kick stand with some type of porn video on pause. Cashe reaches down and picks up the box he brought with him, the first that Wallace had seen it. He places it on the desk and stands up next to it.

WALLACE: “What’s in the box?”

CASHE: “Heh…Seven…”

Patting the box, Cashe pushes out a soft whistle in his toothless grin as he stares across the desk at Perry Wallace.

CASHE: “This is for you! It’s a present actually! Do you want to open it now?”

Knowing that there was a 99.9% chance that Cashe was just fucking with him, Wallace seemed more than hesitant.

WALLACE: “Sure..What’s the catch?”

CASHE: “The catch? Well there isn’t one you see! Today marks the start of a new relationship between you and I. One where you are tested…”

WALLACE: “Huh?”

CASHE: “Tested. Like every female who has ever let you push and drool over them. Tested like when your Mother found out she was pregnant and also the worst day of her life! Tested like a child wants to prove that some SCUMBAG isn’t the Father…”

WALLACE: “What the fuck!? I hate you..”

Cashe bursts out with laughter. Knee slapping laughter as he stumbles away from the desk and around to where Wallace is standing. The laughter quickly disappears as Cashe leaps at Wallace who in turn cowers up.

WALLACE: “I’ll scream…”

CASHE: “Put away your Rape Whistle, nobody is here to bend you over the desk. However I am here to tell you that I am your Champion of Violence.”

WALLACE: “Uhhh…yeah I know that…So what?”

CASHE: “No, no! I am the Champion of Violence but no LONGER the Extreme Champion! You see Wally, I looked back at the reigns of every Champion who has held the Extreme Title or any variation of it this company has had. What I’ve seen is a running joke.”

Cutting away from Wallace, Cashe runs his long hair back and as Wallace begins to comment, Cashe twists back and almost wallops him to the mouth. Once again flinching.

CASHE: “Lack of competition. Lack of big moments, just mindless violence with the most extreme settings you can put together in that wee little brain of yours. What has that represented though? What has come from that setup? There have been more people made famous on American Idol than there have been GREAT Champions of Violence but that? Ohhh Mr. Lotto, that changes NOW!”

Moving back to the box, Cashe opens the folded sides. He smiles really big as he stares down at the contents. Waving for Wallace to look, Cashe steps away from it.

CASHE: “Come see…”

Wallace has no idea what could be inside the box. It could very well be a fetus from some poor pregnant woman, or a head! Outside of Dakota Smith, Cashe was as vile and foul as they come but he usually wanted a good giggle out of his games and antics. Approaching the box, his eyes are squinted, only trying to get a peek for his first glance but then his eyes open wide. His mouth matches his stare as he turns to Cashe and then back at the box in utter shock.

WALLACE: “What did you do!?! I…I…can’t believe you!”

Reaching in, Wallace pulls a small chunk of purple leather out of the box. Some silver plated metal still attached to it. He reaches in for another piece and this one is bigger, this was the gas mask found on the front of the 4CW Extreme Title but it was missing half it’s mask. Wallace looks dumbfounded. He has no words for a reaction.

CASHE: “Like that huh? Yeah, it met with a cruel fate when it went through some big machine at a Metal Factory! I thought maybe you could get with someone and try to super glue it back together, like..like a puzzle!”

WALLACE: “This isn’t funny, this was the property of 4 Corners Wrestling! You were the Champion but now? Now I have no choice but to stri–“

Instantly Cashe has Wallace by the throat with his other hand tightly gripped to the back of his head. Wallace pops up and slides onto the desk as the box full of the shredded Extreme Title tips over and empties out onto the floor.

CASHE: “Oh you have a fucking choice! Make the wrong one and by the time they get that door unlocked or opened…I will have you prepped to have a Seeing Eye Dog for the rest of your life. Got it?”

WALLACE: “Yeah…YEAH! I got it..”

CASHE: “What you will do is listen..”

Releasing his grip on the 4CW Owner, Jason Cashe moves back some and brushes off his “Unstable” T-Shirt. Looking up but barely lifting his head, Cashe stares at Wallace and lifts fully with a smile across his face. Wallace didn’t share the expression.

CASHE: “This shit out there with Watson? That was Extreme, too Extreme for most promotions! I don’t need to carry around that ugly piece of shit YOU decided to have represent the violence in 4CW. Now I am the Champion of Violence, The Troubled One in 4CW and any other place I perform because I don’t just claim to be, I live up to be that! When I told Watson that any match I’m in will become a Title defense, that doesn’t change. I will just do so without an ugly reminder draped over my shoulder or being the cause of conversation by some fucktard fan who spots it at an airport or diner.”

WALLACE: “There are people who liked that belt! It had style!”

CASHE: “Do I look like someone who gives two buckets of damns about what you think style is? Replace that belt if you want, give it to someone else but it doesn’t matter who you give it too…I will come after them and you will have made someone a target. When I finish disposing of them as I’ve done that title, I will come and dispose of you…Courtesy of Unstable and you DON’T want us giving you more attention do you?”

WALLACE: “There are people who will stand against you…”

CASHE: “Let them stand..We like the plate to be full, everyone enjoys a good buffet.”

WALLACE: “Why 4CW? You’ve been a staple in this company.”

CASHE: “It’s not about 4CW, it’s not even about Boardwalk or the Big 4 that’s no more…It’s about Unstable. Period. You’ll learn that more as time passes and so will everyone else. At the Anniversary Show, I’m defending the “Title” of Violence, the Crown of Extreme. Coming to folks LIVE on Television! You’ll get your blood spill…Now clean up this mess, office looks like a pig pen..”

Shoving Wallace off the desk, the CEO falls to the ground and Cashe arm swipes all the paper work, the tablet, every bit of clutter on the desk off it as it rains over a downed Perry Wallace. Cashe laughs as he heads to the door, unlocks it and leaves.

UNDERCARD
PRIDE CHAMPIONSHIP CONTENDER MATCH
JETT WILDER VS. DREW STEVENSON

The lights go dark as the beginning of “Blessings” by Big Sean hits the fans more then likely unhappy to hear the music playing. Out from the back dancing and wilding out is Jett Wilder followed not far by the imposing Luiz Cavalcante and the beautiful Carmella Wilder. Though generally the young and small Wilder alone would not be imposing with his atrocious dance moves we get a close up of the imposing Luiz walking to the ring to really strike some form of fear. Clapping her son on is Carmella with her glasses on looking professional as she usually does, as Wilder bounces up the steps stopping.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California accompanied to the ring by Carmella Wilder and Luiz Cavalcante, weighing in at one hundred and forty five pounds and standing five feet, eight inches tall, JETT WILDER!!!”

Waiting for Luiz who as usual doesn’t look pleased to have to stop and lower the top rope down so that Wilder can jump over it to show off. Shaking his head as he follows him into the ring as Jett jumps up to the top rope pounding his chest as the crowd boos him. Carmella walks around the ring ignoring the cat calls and the boos to continue to cheer her son on as Jett bounces off the ropes and heads to the other side with Luiz standing behind him arms crossed. Finally bouncing back down taking off the hoodie he came out with to hand to Luiz who walks to the ropes to hand it out to Carmella as Jett readies himself.

JOHNSON: “There is a lot on the line tonight for Jett: number one contendership for the Pride title, his dignity, and apparently his own personal safety as well as anyone close to him.”

VASSA: “Yes, but if he somehow manages to survive Drew Stevenson and the threats he has been making, Jett walks out with perhaps his biggest in 4CW yet with a guaranteed title shot at the Pride Championship. But that is certainly a big IF.”

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. 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, weighing in at two hundred fifty pounds, and hailing from Kansas City, Missouri! He is “Public Enemy Number One”, Drew Stevenson!”

JOHNSON: “The man who made a statement at Fright Night is focused on the task at hand tonight. He wants to trade in that tag gold that he gave up, for some singles gold in the form of the Pride title.”

VASSA: “Yes, but first he has to get through …okay, I cannot keep a straight face …Drew has been dominant as of late and could very well be the end of Jetty Wilder. If I were him, I would have taken Drew’s ultimatum and just given him the match. I like Jett’s style, but Drew is a beast.”

JOHNSON: “Both of these men are far from fan favorites, but Jett might have the most to prove tonight as The Gold Standard used to make fun of him. Now, he has his chance for revenge against not just Stevenson, but, if he can win this match, John Austin.”

DING!!! DING!!!

The bell rings as a very confident and cocky Drew Stevenson walks up to a somewhat timid Jett Wilder. He holds up his arm, asking for a test of strength. They link up and Stevenson immediately overpowers him. With Wilder on his knees, Wilder lets go and crawls between Stevenson’s legs, and immediately slides out of the ring. Stevenson jumps out of the ring and immediately gives chase. Jett runs around the ring with Stevenson not far behind. Jett rolls back into the ring. As Stevenson is re-entering, Jett nails him a baseball slide that sends him to the barricade. Jett slides back into the ring as the ref has began his count.

JOHNSON: “He might have lost the battle of strength but Wilder just won the battle of wits.”

VASSA: “By running from a fight. He probably is really hoping that the baseball slide took Stevenson out for the full ten count.”

JOHNSON: “Jett is definitely the type who doesn’t mind winning by count out. By hook or by crook.”

“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Five!”

Stevenson is coming to as Jett urges the referee to count faster.

“Six! … Seven!”

Noticing that Stevenson is approaching the ring again, Wilder goes for another baseball slide, but Drew dodges it, pulls Wilder of the ring by the legs and nails him with a German Suplex into the barricade. Stevenson quickly grabs him by the hair and rolls him into the ring.

JOHNSON: “Wilder went to the well too many times there and paid dearly for it.”

VASSA: “Stevenson is not going to tolerate that kind of crap when a shot at the Pride title is on the line.”

Jett is trying to get to his feet, but Stevenson helps him out. Stevenson brings him right back down with a scoop slam. Stevenson waists no time and immediately locks in the Figure Four Leg Lock on Wilder. Jett wriggles back and forth as Stevenson has the move firmly locked in. Jett starts inching towards the ropes and miracuously grabs the bottom rope. The ref tells Stevenson to break the hold but he refuses. The ref begins the five count. Drew only lets go right before five. He is admonished by the ref as he looks at him as if he did nothing wrong. Jett is getting back to his feet and is going to attack him from behind but instead, Stevenson nails him with a hiptoss into single arm triangle choke. Once again, Jett is struggling in a submission move.

VASSA: “Drew Stevenson is keeping his promise of attempting to injure Jett. He is unrelenting with those submissions.”

JOHNSON: “Say what you want about him, but Stevenson is probably the adept technical wrestler in the company …perhaps even the entire industry itself. He is certainly proving that right now.

Wilder whips around wildly, but it seems like to no avail …until the referee notices Jett’s foot on the rope. He, once again, force Stevenson to break it up and, once again, he does not do it until the very end of the five count. He pulls Wilder back up to his feet and goes for a belly to belly …but mid-way through the move, somehow, Jett Wilder reverses it into a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker. He immediately goes for the cover, getting his feet on the ropes for leverage. The ref notices Jett’s illegal tactic and doesn’t count.

JOHNSON: “Jett has to be sneakier if he thinks he can get away with that tactic …or just wrestle the match properly.

VASSA: “Is there any question as to who deserves the Pride title shot? Stevenson doesn’t take shortcuts.”

JOHNSON: “Except for threatening to cripple a man’s mom if he didn’t relent, right?”

VASSA: “It was a warning for Jett’s own good.”

Wilder starts arguing with him how he was justified for using that tactic after Stevenson refused to break the holds. Unfortunately, Wilder turns into a shoulder tackle from Stevenson, taking any advantage Wilder might have had away. Drew pulls Jett up to his feet and nails him with a fisherman suplex. With Wilder winded, he goes to the second turnbuckle and launches himself off with an elbow drop to Jett’s chest. Not thinking very highly of Wilder, Stevenson makes the cover early in the match.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Wilder’s foot somehow ends up on the ropes. Carmella tries to look innocent as if she had no idea how that even got there.

JOHNSON: “This is where Jett might be at his most dangerous. He makes sure that he has outside help at all times. It makes him fairly tough to beat …unless it is a tag team match”

VASSA: “Given her relationship with both men, I am surprised that she made such a bold statement with that aiding of her son. Either way, she probably just saved Wilder from a world of hurt.”

Stevenson begins to argue with Carmella and turns into a Tornado DDT from Wilder. Wilder follows up with a Springboard moonsault. Feeling that he definitely has this match in the bag, he follows up with a slingshot legdrop. Knowing that that should do it for Stevenson, he puts his foot on his opponent’s chest and flexes, demanding that the ref begin the count.

JOHNSON: “Wilder taking the moment to show some gusto before finishing off his opponent.”

VASSA: “No, he is really that jaded to think that is all it will take to put his opponent down. Remember, it is Jett Wilder we are dealing with here.”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

…Wilder is knocked off his feet, as Stevenson grabs his leg, turning the cocky pin into a half Boston Crab.

Wilder’s arms flail about as he looks for the nearest rope to grab, but Stevenson pulls him backwards. Perhaps by accident, Wilder twists and turns so much that he positions himself out of the hold, tossing Stevenson to the side. Wilder sits up, having no idea how or even what he just did. Stevenson charges but Wilder falls to the ground. Stevenson jumps over him, bounces off the ropes, Wilder leap frogs him again, and lands on his feet. When Stevenson bounces off again, Wilder nails him with a drop toe hold. He immediately puts him in a head lock and tells Stevenson to just give up …he is clearly out powered.

The ref raises Stevenson’s arm and he immediately keeps it up. Wilder looks dumb founded as he was sure that his holds could put a gorilla to sleep. With the hold still locked in, Stevenson rises to his feet, and then backs into the turnbuckle, crushing Wilder in the process. Wilder falls on his butt and Stevenson follows up with a running knee to his opponent’s face. Drew grabs Drew and positions him in the middle of the ring. He does a cut throat expression before going for the Final Countdown …BUT Wilder jumps out of it and immediately rolls out of the ring and catches his breath on the barricade.

VASSA: “Wilder takes a much deserved break, escaping from that having to suffer from that nasty move.”

JOHNSON: “Jett is exceedingly good at self-preservation.”

Stevenson climbs out of the ring and Jett runs away again, thinking that Stevenson is chasing him.

“One! … Two!”

Wilder clears one corner, and then another, but is stopped in his tracks as Stevenson holds Carmella in front of him, with his arms around her arm.

“Three! … Four! … Five!”

Jett doesn’t know what to do as Stevenson tells Jett “I’m going to do it. Step back.” But, instead of crippling her, he tosses Carmella into Wilder.

“Six! … Seven!”

This distracts Jett long enough for Stevenson to nail him with an elbow, followed by a backdrop into the concrete.

“Eight! … Nine!”

JOHNSON: “Sick tactic by Stevenson to get into Wilder’s head by threatening Carmella’s well being …though, he did it as more of a distraction.”

VASSA: “He has been threatening it all week, Wilder and mommy got off lucky here.”

Drew rolls Jett back into the ring and goes for the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

VASSA: “What in the world does Drew have to do to take out Wilder? It shouldn’t be that hard.”

JOHNSON: “I think we are learning that Wilder is either deceptively smart in the ring or a lucky idiot.”

Stevenson seems to be extremely frustrated that Jett just isn’t giving up. Drew turns to the ref and argues with him that that was a three count. After berating the referee, Stevenson turns to continue to work on Wilder by lifting him but as he does so, Jett grabs him and rolls him into a small package pin out of nowhere.

ONE

.

.

TWO

Wilder pulls up on Drew’s tights.

.

.

THREE!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: ”Here is your winner and number one contender to the Pride Championship JETT WWIILLDDEERR!!!”

VASSA: “I don’t believe it. How did that even happen?”

JOHNSON: “Wilder, with what has to be one of the bigger upsets we have seen in a while, took Stevenson by surprise and own the match. He goes onto face John Austin at a future event. Perhaps this is the last time Stevenson makes fun of somebody.

Wilder quickly rolls out of the ring in celebration of wining a shot at the Pride title, but also keeping some distance between himself and Stevenson, who has to be even angrier now. Carmella raises Jett’s hand as they back up the walkway. Stevenson is in the ring, utterly in shock as to what just happened …and he will not be the one moving onto challenge for the Pride championship.

Instead of transitioning backstage or anywhere else inside the arena, the thirty-fourth episode of Adrenaline cut to a small studio where Gabriel Hartman was shown sitting on a couch with a couple of index cards in his hands for a prerecorded interview.

HARTMAN: “Hello ladies and gentlemen. My name is Gabriel Hartman, and joining me at this time is none other than the now former 4CW Champion, Felicity Banks.”

As the camera panned out, it showed Felicity Banks dressed in her street clothes, sitting on a couch that was a few feet away from Hartman.

BANKS: “Wow… I really don’t like how that sounds at all. FORMER 4CW Champion…”

She paused, shaking her head after repeating Gabriel’s words.

BANKS: “Former… not a fan of that word at all, Gabey. But, luckily I’ll only be the former 4CW Champion for another few short weeks because I’m getting the 4CW Championship back one way or another.”

Gabriel nodded his head and glanced down at his index cards before he began to speak.

HARTMAN: “Ah, I see you’re determined to get back to the top of the mountain, huh?”

BANKS: “Obviously, Gabriel. I mean…”

She hesitated, letting out a chuckle before she continued.

BANKS: “I’m not gonna sit here and lie to you and all the fans out there, but I was strongly considering being done with Dakota and the 4CW Championship. I was pretty damn close to just taking Cashe’s cute little advice and moving to the Pride division, but then someone pretty much explained the situation to me. Someone knocked some sense into me and made realize that if I just… give up–”

She snapped her fingers.

BANKS: “–just like that, then I’d be a quitter. For the first time in my life, I would quit and that’s just something that I’m not willing to do. I’ve never quit anything in my life, Gabriel. Whether it was cheerleading back in the day, videogames, relationships, anything at all… I never quit. And I’m not about to start now. Not when the 4CW Championship is on the line. Not when that dirty motherfucker Dakota Smith basically tried to kill me. And definitely not when I STILL have air in my lungs.”

She looked directly at the camera, breathing in and out as if she were taunting Dakota Smith.

BANKS: “Still breathing, Dakota. The next time you wanna pull a stunt like that, you better make sure the job gets done because as long as I can still breathe, I’m going to keep coming at you and coming at you until it’s YOU WHO fears ME.”

Gabriel narrowed a brow, stuck on something Felicity had just said.

HARTMAN: “Interesting words, but I have a question. You said the words ‘until it’s you who fears me’, correct?”

The former 4CW Champion nodded her head.

HARTMAN: “Are you saying that you fear pr feared Dakota Smith?”

Letting out a nonchalant smirk, Felicity crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair.

BANKS: “Do I fear him as a person? As a man?”

She shook her head from side to side.

BANKS: “Not at all. But, I’d be a liar if I said that I didn’t fear what that peasant could do. Since I came to 4CW, Dakota’s been the monster under everyone’s bed. He’s been the Candyman, Charles Manson, and Bloody Face from American Horror Story allllll wrapped into one… and that works for him. It’s worked so well that he is now the “first triple crown champion” in 4CW history, but see… what I’ve realized is that Dakota thrives off of fear. He excels when he knows that his opposition fears him or the surroundings that make a him feel right at home. He makes a living off getting into a person’s head and using that against them.”

She bit down on her lip and processed all the thoughts that were floating around in her hand.

BANKS: “I can’t give him that advantage over me. Not again. At Fright Night, Dakota had that advantage over me. Hell, Cashe and Jair had the same advantage over me because they’ve in the Warzone before! Me? I, like everyone else, feared the unknown. Didn’t want to admit it, and even denied it; but I feared the unknown. I went into that match not knowing what it was gonna take for me to retain my title, but Dakota?”

She nodded.

BANKS: “He knew exactly what the hell he was doing. And now, here I am… the chaser again. The person looking to establish herself as the supreme around here, chasing something that only a handful of people have attained before and only one has held on multiple occasions. Me? I’m going to be the second name to become 4CW Champion not once, but twice. And come Adrenaline…”

She stood up from her the couch and looked down at Gabriel Hartman.

BANKS: “I’m going to show the world that when it comes to an actual WRESTLING match… Dakota can’t touch me.”

She ripped the microphone away from her sweatshirt and walked out of the mini studio, leaving Gabriel Hartman with his index cards.

HEADLINE
CHRIS MADISON VS. JOHN AUSTIN

POWERS: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”

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

HERE’S A WAR!!

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.

POWERS: ”Coming to ring from Long Island, New York, weighing in at two hundred twenty pounds and standing six feet tall, “Mayhem”, Chris Madison!”

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. 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.

JOHNSON: ”Here’s Chris Madison on an undefeated streak with six wins to his name since signing with 4CW.”

VASSA: ”He has been on a roll and tonight could very well be his most important match in 4CW to date.”

JOHNSON: ”He’ll be going head to head with the 4CW Pride Champion, John Austin!”

VASSA: ”John Austin has been on a roll too. He had some back and forth with Cashe leading up to Fright Night which eventually lead to him facing Seamus for the championship. He has some momentum and a shiny belt to boost his confidence.”

JOHNSON: ”Although this match isn’t for the championship, Chris Madison proves to be a serious challenge for him to show everyone why he is the Pride Champion.”

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” with the 4CW Pride Championship around his waist. He turns his back to the camera as we clearly see the words “Magic Man” on the back of his ring jacket.

POWERS: ”And the opponent, coming to the ring from Raleigh, North Carolina, standing six feet, four inches tall and weighing in at two hundred fifty pounds. He is “The Magic Man” and 4CW Pride Champion, John Austin!”

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 turnbuckles and raises his fist in the air, holding the Pride Championship above his head. He then hops down and reaches over the ropes, placing the championship onto the apron before turning back to face his opponent.

VASSA: ”The Pride Champion is in the building ladies and gentlemen!”

JOHNSON: ”I do have to admit, that belt does look good on him.”

VASSA: ”Oh does it now? Why don’t you just go ahead and ask him out to dinner and a movie then.”

JOHNSON: ”I didn’t mean it like that, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”You sure about that? You sounded a little thirsty there my friend.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t even know what that means but we’re going to move right along and get to this match. Oh look, the official is even ready to get things underway!”

In the center of the ring, the official looks over to Madison in his corner and without the slightest hesitation, Madison gives him the nod. He then looks over to Austin who stands against the ropes with a cocky look on his face. Austin then points at the ref, giving him the signal that he’s ready to begin. Throwing his hand into the air, the ref then calls for the bell as the match is officially underway.

DING!!! DING!!!

With the fans growing louder and louder in the background, the arena begins to slightly rumble as the anticipation builds. Both men then step away from their corners and slowly approach each other in the center of the ring. Standing face to face, the two stare at one another as the tension grows between the two. Austin then extends his hand for a shake. Looking down at it, Madison pauses for a moment before extending his.

VASSA: ”I can’t believe he fell for it!”

Austin then connects with a hard right to the side of Madison’s head, catching him off guard and sending him stumbling backwards off balance. Lunging forward, Austin then connects with another right and follows up with a left to the body, causing Madison to buckle from the force of the blow. Austin then steps beside Madison and quickly wraps him up before lifting him up from his feet and slamming him to the canvas with a side suplex.

Popping back to his feet, Austin then kicks Madison in the ribs over and over, keeping him down to the mat and not giving him the opportunity to get back to his feet. After half a dozen kicks to the body, Austin then takes a few steps backwards before stepping forward and kicking Madison one last time in the side, flipping him over to his back. Austin then jumps onto Madison’s back, grabs ahold of his arm and applies a armbar, bending it backwards and trying to snap it in half.

Before Austin can get the armbar locked in full effect, Madison manages to pull his arm away, sliding it through Austin’s hands. Rolling in the opposite direction, Madison quickly pushes himself up as Austin pops to his feet as well. The two then quickly turn to one another, situating themselves and sizing one another up.

JOHNSON: ”Chris was a little too fast for John right there with that armbar attempt.”

VASSA: ”The vet may have some years on him but you’d never know it by the way he moves in the ring.”

In the blink of an eye, Madison charges towards Austin and shoots in, wrapping up a single leg and lifting him up from his feet. With Austin held over his shoulder, Madison then takes a few quick paced steps forward before slamming him down onto his back and driving his shoulder into Austin’s chest. With Austin beneath him, Madison crawls over his upper-body, locks onto his head with both hands and then delivers a nasty series of knee strikes to Austin’s ribs.

VASSA: ”Good to see that Madison is nice enough to return the favor with the assault to the ribs.”

JOHNSON: ”This is where Chris can be at his deadliest.”

Madison then pushes himself up to his feet and quickly locks onto Austin’s arm with both hands before jerking him up as well. Madison then locks his arms around Austin’s head, forcing it down only to then go to work on his mid-section once against with lifting knee strikes. After knocking the air from Austin’s lungs, Madison then wraps a single arm around his head and grabs onto the back of his pants with his other hand. He then lifts Austin straight into the air, upside down for a few moments before dropping him down to the canvas with a brainbuster. Rolling backwards, Madison covers Austin and hooks the leg as the ref sweeps in for the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

JOHNSON: ”Austin gets a shoulder up!”

Not wasting any time, Madison quickly gets back to his feet and drags Austin up as well. Latching onto his wrist with both hands, Madison then goes to whip Austin to the ropes only to get sent racing towards them instead as Austin reverses. After hitting the ropes and coming back with momentum, Madison runs into Austin who wraps him up, lifts him into the air and spins around before planting him into the mat with a spinning spinebuster.

VASSA: ”And just like that, Austin has turned this match around!”

With Madison laid out in the center of the ring, Austin pops up to his feet and darts towards the corner. After ascending to the top, Austin turns back to face Madison while standing straight up with his arms held out to his side. Austin then leaps from the top and comes down with an elbow drop across Madison’s chest.

VASSA: ”John got some serious air with that elbow drop!”

JOHNSON: ”Not just any elbow drop, John likes to refer to that little number as “Hail to the King Baby”!”

VASSA: ”Could this be it?!”

Crawling over Madison, Austin makes the cover as the ref drops in for the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

JOHNSON: ”NO!”

Before the ref can complete the two count, Madison kicks out of the pin. Shaking his head in disbelief, Austin looks up at the ref before voicing his disapproval with the count. He then stands to his feet and slowly paces the ring, showing signs of frustration. Austin then turns his attention back to Madison and moves in on him before he can begin to get back up. Grabbing ahold of Madison’s head, Austin slowly rolls him over to his stomach before pulling him up to one knee. With one hand still firmly on Madison’s head, Austin then draws back before swinging downward and connecting with a hard right to the top of the head. Drawing back again, Austin then connects with a second and then a third, keeping a tight grip on Madison and not letting him fall back down to the canvas.

Austin then pulls Madison up to both feet and delivers another punch to the side of the head, sending Madison’s head whipping to the side. Spinning Madison around, Austin positions himself behind Madison before wrapping both hands around his waist and locking his hands. Madison quickly grabs onto Austin’s hands and tries to rip them apart but can’t manage to break the tight lock. Austin then goes to lift Madison up but just as Madison’s feet lift up from the canvas, Madison throws an elbow back and plants it directly between Austin’s eyes. Keeping his hands locked and arms around Madison’s waist, Austin shakes off the cobwebs before going to lift Madison up again. Just like before, Madison throws another elbow back and hits Austin in the forehead, this time stunning him briefly.

Still with his hands locked together, Austin maintains his hold around Madison’s waist. Finding a burst of energy, Austin then lifts Madison up from his feet, catching him by surprise. Going for a German suplex, Austin lifts Madison above his head but before he can come down to drive Madison into the mat, Madison rolls out of the hold and lands on his feet as Austin hits the mat empty handed. Stumbling backwards, Madison quickly regains his footing. Austin then rolls over to his stomach and pushes himself up to one knee and as he looks up, Madison catches him by surprise with a running yakuza kick to the face.

VASSA: ”Wake up call!”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t think it mattered what John did right there, Chris just wasn’t going to fall victim to that German suplex.”

VASSA: ”After two times of trying to break free, as they say, the third time is the charm!”

Back on his feet, Madison walks around the ring with his arms held out to his side, yelling in excitement as the crowd erupts in the background. Slowly getting to his feet, Austin pushes himself up, struggling in the process. Madison then turns his attention back to Austin and quickly moves in just as he stands to his feet. Lunging forward, Madison clinches Austin in a front-face lock and then forces Austin down between his legs, dropping all of his weight down to the canvas. While dropping, Madison swings his right leg over Austin’s back while keeping his left leg over the back of Austin’s head.

VASSA: ”This doesn’t look good at all!”

JOHNSON: ”Madison has the Peruvian Necktie locked in!”

With the moved locked in, Austin fights to break free while Madison applies the pressure. Only able to fight the pain for so long, Austin quickly begins to slap his hand against the canvas, submitting.

VASSA: ”That didn’t take long!”

JOHNSON: ”Chris Madison has won it ladies and gentlemen! The streak continues!”

VASSA: ”That hold just looks dreadful.”

The ref then signals for the bell as Madison releases the hold and rolls backwards and up to his feet in a fluid motion.

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

“You Want A Battle?” hits the speakers as the crowd erupts. The ref then grabs Madison by the arm and raises it into the air for the victory.

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

Madison then rips his arm away from the official before pacing the ring, corner to corner.

JOHNSON: ”So with Jett Wilder winning the number one contender match for the Pride Championship earlier and Chris Madison beating the Pride Champion here in the same night, what does that mean for those two?”

VASSA: ”To be fair, Jett did win his contender match outright. As far as I’m concerned, I would say that Madison has to wait his turn until Jett gets his championship match.”

JOHNSON: ”Of course Madison is going to have to wait until Jett gets his match but this win tonight has to count for something. You don’t just beat the current champ and it go unnoticed.”

VASSA: ”I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. Until then, We’ll watch as Madison tries to continue his streak here in 4CW!”

JOHNSON: ”We’re going to go backstage for a few moments folks, we’ll be right back!”

Backstage, the camera opens up to a clear shot of a locker room door with a chain secured around the handle. On the other side, loud banging can be heard coming from within the room.

VASSA: ”What do we have here?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know, Vinny, but it looks like that door has been chained to where it can’t open.”

The banging grows louder and louder as the door violently shakes from the pounding. Zooming in to the name tag on the door, the name “Cyrus Riddle” comes into clear focus.

JOHNSON: ”That’s Cyrus’ locker room!”

VASSA: ”I think someone may be playing a joke on him, pulling a prank if you will.”

JOHNSON: ”Well he doesn’t sound too pleased on the other side.”

VASSA: ”Maybe he has to go to the bathroom. I don’t know if these rooms have personal toilets in them.”

MAIN EVENT
FELICITY BANKS VS. DAKOTA SMITH

POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is your main event of the evening, and it is scheduled for one fall!”

“Can you feel that…?”

“Scream” by Thousand Foot Krutch plays over sound system, the crowd erupting in a mixed reaction as the lights dimmer down and a gold sparklers fall down onto the entrance ramp. There’s still no sign of Felicity as the pyro continues going off, the arena lights dimming down until they’re off. The sparklers are still visible as a spotlight illuminates the top of ramp.

“Can you feel that…?”

The soft voice of Felicity Banks echos throughout the arena as the “True Queen B of Pro Wrestling” comes out of the curtain with a smug smile on her face. She makes her way through the golden sparklers, her arms extended 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, turning her back 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 and stares them down before she glances around the entire arena. She walks up the steps and into the ring.

Once in the ring, Felicity spins around in circles until the lights in the arena begin 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 others don’t.

POWERS: On her way to the ring… From Jersey City, New Jersey… She is the Sullen Angel… The QUEEN… FELIIIIIIIICIIIIIIIIITYYYYYYY… BAAAAAAAAAAAAANKS!!

She hops off the ropes and turns around, sliding her back down against the turnbuckle pads until she was fully seated on the mat, seeming disinterested as she patiently waits for the match to begin.

JOHNSON: “Felicity will have her chance at revenge tonight after nearly being strangled at Fright Night last month.”

VASSA: “Not only was she hanged from the top of the ladder but she also lost the 4CW Championship shortly following. Although this match isn’t for the 4CW Championship, she has a score to settle with The Butcher.”

JOHNSON: “We clearly do not have a challenger named yet to face Dakota for the championship. Banks hasn’t officially been given a rematch but a win here tonight could definitely speed up the process and get the hype buzzing.”

VASSA: “It isn’t going to be an easy task by any means but one that she is more than able to accomplish.”

“Dance With the Devil” begins to play over the sound system, the lights go dim as the arena gets filled with a mix of boos and cheers. Out of the back comes Dakota Smith, a snarl on his face and the 4CW 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.

JOHNSON: “The Butcher has made his presence felt as this is the first time we’ve seen him since winning the 4CW Championship.”

VASSA: “We thought this guy was a monster while he was the Extreme Champion. Who knows what the man is capable of now that he’s at the top of the food chain.”

JOHNSON: “This match will be a big welcoming for the 4CW Champ as he gets to take on the former champion, the woman he nearly killed at Fright Night.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Right as the opening bell rings, Felicity charges across the ring and starts swinging wildly at the new 4CW Champion. Dakota manages to push Felicity away, but Felicity shoots right back up to her feet and starts clubbing away at Dakota’s back again! This time, Dakota grabs her by the hair and sends her out of the ring, but Felicity lands on her feet, grabs a hold of Dakota’s boot, and tries to pull him out of the ring!

Dakota attempts to stomp down on Felicity’s hands, but the former 4CW Champion pulls back at the last second, hops up on the apron, and pulls Dakota’s throat down against the ropes! Dakota stumbles back, grasping at his throat as Felicity climbs up to the top rope and waits for Dakota to turn around. Once Dakota turns around, Felicity comes diving off the top rope, landing a diving forearm right to Dakota’s chin!

Dakota falls right down to the mat, but instead of going for the pin, Felicity mounts overtop of him and starts wailing away with right hands square to Dakota’s face!

JOHNSON: “The former 4CW Champion is doing work on the current 4CW Champion!”

VASSA: “I wish she’d do work on me…”

JOHNSON: “That’s not the kind of work I’m talking about, Vinny.“

VASSA: “And since when do I care about what you’re talking about, Johnson?”

The referee counts up to five and then reaches forward to pull Felicity away from Dakota. The referee warns Felicity that if he has to do that again, he’s gonna disqualify her, but Felicity ignores the referee and stomps her feet toward Dakota, but Dakota gets up to his feet before Felicity reaches him and knees her right in the midsection! With Felicity hunched over after the knee, Dakota clubs down on her back and pulls her in for a piledriver, but Felicity falls to her knees, crawls out from underneath Dakota’s legs, and clips his knee from behind!

Dakota falls down to one knee as Felicity runs the ropes, and connects with a running front dropkick to Dakota’s face that sends him down to his back! Felicity looks like she’s about to make a cover, but decides against it as she moves toward the corner and sets up for a “Bank Shot” superkick.

She anxiously awaits for Dakota to rise to his feet, and when he finally does, she lunges forward for the superkick, but Dakota catches her foot, spins her around, and turns her inside out with a huge lariat!

JOHNSON: “What a lariat by the champion!”

VASSA: “He nearly took Felicity’s head off her shoulders! That’s exactly what he needed to swing momentum back in his favor.”

Dakota climbs up to his feet and lets out a loud roar before he reaches down and pulls Felicity up by her hair. He grabs her by the face and yells “I’M THE CHAMPION. MY TITLE. YOU’LL NEVER HOLD IT AGAIN!” as he grabs her by the arm sends her into the corner with a fierce irish whip. Felicity drops down to her knees, allowing Dakota to charge forward and boot her right in the face! With Felicity down, Dakota pulls her away from the ropes and makes the cover…

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

The former 4CW Champion kicks right out at two, Dakota smirking as he slaps her in the back of the head. Grabbing her by the hair, Dakota pulls Felicity up to her feet and pushes her toward the ropes. Dakota pops Felicity in the chin with an elbow strike, spins her around, and then german suplexes her right into the turnbuckles! Dakota doesn’t stop there as he pulls Felicity back up by her hair, spins her around, and sends her into the turnbuckles with her another German suplex!

JOHNSON: “Back to back german suplexes into the turnbuckles from the new 4CW Champion.”

VASSA: “Think he might’ve just given Felicity whiplash with those. Did you see how her head snapped forward after the second one?”

JOHNSON: “Think it’s going to take more than that to keep her down, though. I mean… the man hung her a few weeks ago!”

VASSA: “And maybe she’s just not realizing what she’s dealing with? Dakota Smith isn’t just a wrestler, Johnson. He’s a monster!”

Dakota laughs sadistically as he rises up to his feet and begins taunting the former 4CW Champion. He slaps her in the back of the head some more, but this angers Felicity as she lunges up to her feet and catches Dakota with a jumping knee to the face! Dakota stumbles back toward the corner, allowing Felicity to pick up a full head of steam and attempt a running double knee attack, but Dakota sidesteps out of the way!

Felicity goes knees first into the turnbuckle while Dakota steps up behind her. He wraps his arm her head and throat, and executes a picture perfect reverse suplex right in the middle of the ring! Dakota watches as Felicity wills her way back up to her feet, and then kicks her in the midsection. Dakota sets her for the “Manson Family Driver” but Felicity spins out of the double underhook, and blasts Dakota with a spin kick to the midsection!

With Dakota hunched over, Felicity jumps up in the air and lands leg drop bulldog on Smith! His face smashes off the canvas as Felicity pushes herself away from Dakota. The crowd begins chanting her name as Felicity uses the ropes to pull herself back up to a vertical base and watches Dakota starting to stir.

Just as soon as Dakota gets up to his knees, Felicity runs towards home and blasts him with a running european uppercut! Dakota falls down to the mat, allowing Felicity to roll out onto the apron. She stands to her feet, measures the 4CW Champion up, and springboards into the ring, landing on Dakota with a springboard leg drop! Felicity hooks the leg and watches the referee get in position to make the count…

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR—KICKOUT!!!

Dakota kicks out at two and a half, Felicity double checking the count with the referee before she turns her attention back to the 4CW Champion. She slithers away from him like a snake and starts pulling down on her kneepad, signaling for the “Off With Your Head.”

JOHNSON: “Looks like she’s going for that knee attack!”

VASSA: “Dakota needs to get out of the ring before he gets his bell rocked!”

Dakota starts stirring around, Felicity stomping her foot off the canvas with the claps of the crowd. Once Dakota gets to his knees, he turns his head just enough to see Felicity running forward…

OFF WITH YOUR—NO!!!

Dakota tucks his head down, causing Felicity to fly right over him with the knee. Dakota gets up to his feet, but Felicity does the same and the two charge toward one another. Dakota swings wildly with a haymaker, but Felicity ducks it, stomps down on Dakota’s foot, and goes for the Space Jam DDT, but Dakota holds her up in the air and turns it into a release northern lights suplex!

Felicity rolls out underneath the ropes and to the apron while Dakota staggers up to his feet. Dakota sees Felicity laying motionless after the big northern lights suplex and slides out of the ring, ripping Felicity off the apron by her foot. He pulls her forward and blasts her with an elbow to the face, sending her back toward the apron. Dakota pulls her forward and goes for a spike DDT, but Felicity shoves him back and hits him with yet another jumping knee to the face!

“One! … Two!”

The referee starts his ten count, but neither Banks nor Smith seem phased by it as they continue to go at it!

JOHNSON: “Back and forth, back and forth. These two might end up killing each other before this one ends.”

VASSA: “And I don’t think either one of them will care.”

Dakota fires at Felicity with a big right hand that rocks her, and immediately follows it up by irish whipping her straight into the ringside steps!

“Three! … Four!”

A maniacal grin forms on Smith’s face as he walks toward Felicity and pulls her by the hair, but Felicity strikes back with headbutt straight up towards Dakota’s chin, snapping his head back! With Dakota staggered, Felicity hops up onto the apron, turns her head back to see where he was and once he takes a step forward, Felicity leaps back with lands a picture perfect moonsault!

“Five! … Six!”

… but Dakota catches her in mid air! Carrying her on his shoulder, Dakota attempts to send her face first into the steel ring post, but Felicity slides down his back and sends him face first into it instead! She watches Dakota crash down to the floor and then looks up at the referee.

“Seven!”

She slides in the ring, and right back out to simply break the count.

JOHNSON: “Fel doesn’t want to win this match by countout!”

VASSA: “Who says she would’ve though? Dakota still had three long seconds to get up before the countout.”

JOHNSON: “Better to be safe than sorry, I guess?”

VASSA: “Maybe, but this might turnaround and bite her in the ass.”

Felicity grabs Dakota by the beard and tries to pull him up to his feet, but Dakota fires at her with a right hand, and then follows it up with big scoop slam right to the floor!

“One! … Two!”

Not wasting any more time, Dakota pulls Felicity up and slides her back inside the ring. He follows her inside and waits for to get up, and once she does, Dakota pulls her forward, lifts her over his head hits the Dova Death Drop! Dakota pulls her away from the ropes and makes the cover…

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THRE–NO!!!

Felicity gets her shoulder up at the last possible moment, a slight look of frustration forming on the champions face. He shakes it off and immediately grabs a hold of her hair, ripping her up to her feet. Dakota screams in her face, but Felicity reacts with a huge slap to the face, knocking the spit out of the 4CW Champions mouth! An enraged look takes over his features as he turns back toward Felicity and lunges at her, but Felicity sidesteps out of the way, kicks him in the midsection, and hits him with the Space Jam DDT!

The crowd explodes as Felicity crawls toward Dakota and makes the pin attempt..

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THRE–NO!!!

This time it’s Dakota who gets his shoulder up at the last possible second, Felicity wiping the sweat away from her forehead.

JOHNSON: “These two are beating the hell out of each other, and the 4CW Championship isn’t even on the line!”

VASSA: “Just goes to show you how much bragging rights means to these two.”

Felicity takes in a deep breath and lets it right out as she stares down at the 4CW Champion. She looks around at the audience as they gesture for the “Off with your head” and immediately slides toward the corner for the setup. She watches as Dakota starts gathering himself, finally getting up to his knees, and once again goes for the decapitating knee attack…

… but Dakota moves out of the way! This time, Felicity puts on the brakes and turns to Dakota, only to get kicked in the midsection, and set up in position for the “Manson Family Driver!” Dakota lifts her up, but Felicity wiggles around and manages to pull one of her arms out from the underhook, making the move impossible! Dakota releases Felicity’s arm and watch her feet touch the mat before he goes for a lariat, but Felicity ducks out of the way, waits for Dakota to turn around, and blasts him with a jumping “Bank Shot” superkick! The impact from the move causes Dakota to spin around instead of fall, allowing Felicity to sneak up behind him, leap up onto his shoulders, and roll him up in a victory roll!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

DING!!! DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: “Here is your winner… FELICITY BAAAAAANKS!”

VASSA: ”Banks did it! She took down the 4CW Champion in his first match since winning the championship at Fright Night!”

JOHNSON: ”She caught him off guard with that victory roll and boy does he looks angry!”

VASSA: ”She didn’t lay him out and the champ looks furious!”

Before Banks can even celebrate, Dakota quickly pushes himself up in anger and roars across the ring at her. He then drops to his back and rolls out of the ring before making his way to the announcers booth.

JOHNSON: ”Oh no, what is he doing?!”

VASSA: ”Hold me Steve, I’m scared!”

Dakota then pushes a member of the ringside crew from their chair at the announcers booth. Picking it up, he folds it before looks back to the ring where Banks looks on, not sure of what’s about to happen next.

CLANK!!!

Dakota takes a swing and connects with the ringside steps, cutting over the sounds of the crowd with the noise it gives off. He then slides into the ring and pops to his feet. Trying to get control of the situation, the official walks towards Dakota with his hands in front of him, trying to reason with The Butcher.

CRACK!!!

Dakota slams the chair across the officials head, dropping him to the mat in an instant.

VASSA: ”What the hell is wrong with the ref? Everyone knows better than to approach Dakota when he has a weapon in hand.”

JOHNSON: ”HE’S GOING FOR FELICITY!!!”

Dakota then charges towards Banks and takes a swing only to connect with the top rope as she quickly shoots through the ropes and exits the ring. In anger, Dakota then swings the chair and slams it down on top of the corner, leaving a huge dent in the backrest. he then climbs through the ropes and drops down to the floor, looking in both directions for Banks. After finally spotting her, Dakota runs like a madman and circles the ring, as if he has her scent and is closing in for the kill.

VASSA: ”Run Felicity! Don’t try to be a hero!”

As Dakota chases Banks, the two make a full lap around the ring before Banks darts up the ramp with a good lead on him. Following behind, Dakota keeps his sights set on her until a cup crashes against his face, spilling soda all over him.

JOHNSON: ”Oh my!”

VASSA: ”I don’t know who did that but they better make a run for it now before he climbs over the barricade!”

Stopping dead in his tracks, Dakota throws the chair down to the ramp with force before turning his attention to a fan on the other side of the barricade yelling at him. Dakota’s face then turns red as he lunges forward and grabs the man by the shirt collar and jerks him up and over barricade before throwing him down on the ramp.

JOHNSON: ”Oh no! No! No! No! He can’t do that to a paying customer!”

VASSA: ”You tell him that because the last I check, he does whatever he wants. This is exactly what Frankie was talking about earlier! The locker room is out of control!”

JOHNSON: ”Someone has to do something about this. Stop him! He can’t do th–“

VASSA: ”Who the fuck are you?!”

JOHNSON: ”Hey, you can’t take that!”

VASSA: ”Someone dressed in all black just hopped over the barricade and ran off with the 4CW Championship!”

The fan crawls away from Dakota in terror as he slowly follows behind, stalking him. Reaching into his pocket, Dakota then pulls out a piece of piano wire and wraps it around one of his hands.

JOHNSON: ”Someone stop this! Security!”

VASSA: ”What the hell?!”

A body dressed in an all black jumpsuit wearing a black mask climbs over the barricade and then charges towards Dakota full speed. Wrapping their arms around his waist, the unknown individual tackles him to the floor. Dakota rolls over to face the unknown person and then headbutts then with everything he has, knocking them away. On the other side of the ramp, another person dressed the same climbs over the barricade and leaps onto Dakota.

JOHNSON: ”WHAT’S HAPPENING NOW!!!”

VASSA: ”I don’t know but obviously Dakota has pissed them off!”

Dakota fights to get away, knocking the other person off of him before getting up to his feet. Now in a two on one situation, Dakota closes both fists and yells for them to make a move. One of the unknowns steps in but catches a hard right to the face from Dakota. Before Dakota can pull his arm back, the other rushes in and wraps him up. Putting up a fight, Dakota struggles to break away until the other unknown wraps him up as well.

VASSA: ”Who are these people?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know but here comes the third with the 4CW Championship in hand!”

CRACK!!!

Running up the ramp, the person who grabbed the championship earlier hits Dakota with it over the back of the head as the other two hold him in place, knocking him unconscious.

VASSA: ”How do fans do this without getting caught?”

With Dakota on the ground, they then roll him over to his stomach before pulling his hands behind his back. One of the unknowns then pulls out a zip-tie and wrap both wrists together, pinning his arms behind his back. Once his arms are secure, they then zip-tie his feet together. As the person finishes up the zip-tie job, the other then pulls out a black sack and places it over Dakota’s head.

JOHNSON: ”That’s one way to get a tight grip on a situation that exploded out of control.”

VASSA: ”What the hell are they doing now?”

The two men then lift Dakota up from the ramp and carry him on their shoulders, heading for the curtain at the top of the ramp. The third with the 4CW Championship in hand follows behind, looking around and watching their backs. Once at the top of the ramp, they then disappear through the curtain.

JOHNSON: ”Did that seriously just happen? Did they just run off with Dakota?”

VASSA: ”I know I’ve been drinking tonight but I can’t be that wasted to where I’m hallucinating.”

JOHNSON: ”They just seriously took Dakota!”

VASSA: ”We need to get a camera on this! Why isn’t the cameras following them!”

A camera then follows in pursuit, racing up the ramp and headed towards the back. After entering the other side of the curtain, no one is seen but a long hallway leading to an exit draws the attention as the door is wide open. The cameraman rushes down the hall before exiting through the doors as we then catch a clear shot of the three men loading Dakota into the back of a blacked out van with another unidentified individual in the drivers seat.

VASSA: ”is this serious happening right now? I thought Dakota was the one who kidnapped people!”

JOHNSON: ”Someone, or some people, clearly have it out for Dakota.”

VASSA: ”Don’t we have a parking lot staff member in the area who can stop this?”

JOHNSON: ”Those guys aren’t even armed. Would you stop something like this if you saw it happening?”

VASSA: ”You make a valid argument, Steve.”

As the three finally load Dakota into the back of the van, they then climb in.

JOHNSON: ”Here comes help!”

VASSA: ”It’s Cyrus! Here comes the other half of Omerta!”

Brushing past the camera man, Riddle runs towards the van with his eyes locked on his brother in arms. One of the masked individuals looks up and wave before slamming the doors shut to the van. As Riddle gets closer, a loud rev is heard roaring from the vans engine as the tires screech. Closing in, Riddle gets within a few feet of the van before it speeds off and races through the parking lot. Following behind, Riddle continues to chase the van until it makes a sharp right turn at the corner of the lot and disappears on the other side of the arena.

JOHNSON: ”They just drove off with Dakota!”

VASSA: ”I’m at a loss for words right now because Dakota is the last person I would think something like this could happen to.”

JOHNSON: ”They even took the 4CW Championship. Who were they?!”

VASSA: ”I don’t know but I’m sure Perry is going to hear another earful from Frankie after having this happen on his watch… AGAIN!!!”

Finally coming to an abrupt stop. Riddle yells at the top of his lungs in anger.

RIDDLE: ”FFFUUUCCCKKK!!!”

With the cameraman not far behind, he then turns around and reaches forward. His hand then covers the lens as the picture turns pitch black. A scuffle is then heard before the darkness is gone and the ground approaches at a quick speed.

CRASH

The picture then turns to nothing but static before switching back to ringside where Vassa and Johnson sit in shock.

VASSA: ”Well, there goes that feed.”

JOHNSON: ”Cyrus just wasn’t fast enough. It makes sense now that we saw his locker room door blocked earlier.”

VASSA: ”This was a very strategic, planned out abduction. This isn’t just some random event.”

JOHNSON: ”But who? Who would do this to Dakota?”

VASSA: ”I can think of one person right now who would do this. Don’t you remember him doing this to Aidan not too long ago?”

JOHNSON: ”There were three people involved with this, four if you count the driver. It wasn’t a one person operation.”

VASSA: ”Maybe it was the boss himself! When Perry was talking with Frankie earlier he did say he was going to take care of this problem.”

JOHNSON: ”There’s just too many unanswered questions here tonight.”

VASSA: ”We have two weeks to get to the bottom of this before our next event. I’m sure we’ll hear something by then.”

JOHNSON: ”Even though it’s Dakota, I sure do hope so.”

VASSA: ”At least we can rest easy with him gone.”

JOHNSON: ”Stuff like this isn’t supposed to happen. Where’s the security when you need them?”

VASSA: ”What are these rent-a-cops going to do?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know, but we’re out of time.”

VASSA: ”Look on the bright side. This is one hell of a way to end a show.”

JOHNSON: ”If you say so. Well folks, after a crazy turn of events, we’re out of time. Be sure to tune in to Adrenaline two weeks from now when we take the action to Chicago, Illinois. I’m Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa, good night.”