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ADRENALINE E35 [057]
UNITED CENTER CHICAGO, ILLINOIS
DECEMBER 9TH, 2015

TWO WEEKS AGO

Three men load 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 the show can even get underway the cameras catch up backstage with one half of the Tag Team Champions, Aidan Carlisle, as she makes her way to her locker room. She is wearing one of her brand new “Alpha Bitch” t-shirts with her gym bag draped over one shoulder and the Tag Title over the other. Just as she is about to push the door open the shot widens, revealing her partner Bryan Williams leaning against the wall.

WILLIAMS: “‘Ello there, friendo! How are we doing today?”

CARLISLE: “I’m fan-fucking-tastic. In an hour or so I get to go rip someone apart with my bare hands. Kind of puts me on top of the world.”

WILLIAMS: “That’s cool, you’ve always been keen about ripping out throats, or whatever. So fancy seeing you around here, been seeing that you’ve been hanging out with Cyrus again. Weird how that keeps happening, huh?”

CARLISLE: “We worked out our differences, loudly and violently. If you’ve got something to say, then say it. Don’t just stand there being catty.”

WILLIAMS: “Catty, huh? I thought I was a quote, wishy-washy ingrate, unquote.”

Aidan adjusts the belt on her shoulder, leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the door frame so that she is mirroring his feigned casual position.

CARLISLE: “Was it untrue?”

WILLIAMS: “Un-true? Did it needed to be said at all? We’ve been through this plenty of times before, you’ve made damn sure to tell me what business that happens out of this ring isn’t any of mine. Whatever promotion I decide to go to has no correlation to what I do here, in 4CW. You just remember that, champ.”

CARLISLE: “Is that the case? Because we haven’t been in the ring together since we won these, partner, and with all due respect, what I’ve seen from you in the ring has been a little… lacking.”

Bryan chuckles slightly, rubbing his face out of frustration.

WILLIAMS: “Lacking, huh? Yeah, okay, maybe you’re right about that. I haven’t really brought it lately, but don’t forget who had your back that entire tournament. You wouldn’t be holding onto that gold, if it wasn’t for me. Don’t worry about me, I’ll figure out my own way here soon enough.”

CARLISLE: “It’s not that hard Bryan. I think you already know what you need to do. In fact. I saw the spark once. Just let go.”

WILLIAMS: “Let what go? I bring one hundred percent every time I step into that ring, wins and losses don’t matter to me. I’m holding onto gold, that is what matters.”

CARLISLE: “Not if wins and losses don’t matter to you. We don’t get to walk around with these forever without someone trying to take them from us, like the flunkie I’m facing tonight and her partner. You’d damn well better care about losses when that happens. As for what you need to let go of… It’s that good guy bullshit.”

WILLIAMS: “I know what my job is around here, and when it comes time for us to defend these belts I will be there. Don’t you worry about that, or how I act outside of the ring. I don’t harp on you about how you behave now, or who you’re hanging around with. At the end of the day, we’re the champs. And we’re going to continue to be the champs, got it?”

CARLISLE: “I’m not some wizened old mentor, Bryan, we’re almost the same age. But I see you where I was once. Whether you realize it or not, something is holding you back. I don’t think anything I say is going to convince you of that, though. So, instead of listening to me talk, why don’t you just pay attention to my match later. Then you’ll see what I mean.”

WILLIAMS: “Sure, I’ll be watching. I certainly won’t get involved either, won’t need to worry about me accidentally smashing your face in with a chair later.”

CARLISLE: “Rowr. Catty.”

Aidan reaches out and hammers the side of her fist against the belt draped over his own shoulder to punctuate her point.

WILLIAMS: “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go be a loser elsewhere. Good luck tonight, partner.”

CARLISLE: “Think on it, Bryan, and pay attention. This is me having your back, like you had mine.”

Without waiting for his response, she pushed the door to her locker room open and steps inside, letting it swing shut behind her.

At the opening where Wrestlers step out to the live audience, Jason Cashe is standing there rocking his head in a sway back and forth as if music is playing in his head. From the side of the screen comes in Fate Champion, Niobe Martin who hugs him from the side. He turns and kisses her to the forehead. Before either of them can begin small talk, an “extremely” annoying voice calls out to him.

WALLACE: ”Jason…”

His head drops, almost wanting to just turn around, drop the CEO and be done with him before he could be vocal about anything because nothing Wallace had to say was something Cashe wanted to hear. Yet as he turns to Wallace, his eyes widen at what Wallace holds spread out in his hands.

NIOBE: ”Whoa!”

Stuck staring at the Championship, Cashe doesn’t remove his eyes from it as Wallace cracks a grin. He lifts the title and steps forward, placing the belt over Cashe’s shoulder. That’s when Cashe looks from the belt to Wallace.

CASHE: ”What’s this?”

WALLACE: ”It’s yours! A present unlike the one you gave me last Adrenaline. Let me officially present you with the NEW 4CW Xtreme Television Championship! XTV if you will..”

CASHE: ”XTV? Heh…I see…I told you I wouldn’t hold a Title that had been held by Mannie or former Champions but Television?”

WALLACE: ”Oh yeah, that’s the best part! You want to defend your belt every match with Extreme settings, just more often than the former Extreme had been? Fine. Now it’s official, every time you are in a match without a partner, you will have that on the line. Potentially every Adrenaline and Super Show! Haha!”

Letting his hand flow over the new Championship, Cashe nods a few times and steps into Wallace’s personal space. Ready to step away, Wallace keeps his caution as his laughter goes silent.

CASHE: ”You think you got one over me with this Bossman? Heh..you better provide people with more Health Insurance…XTV? I like it! Thanks Wally…Let me go defend this shit RIGHT now!”

WALLACE: ”It won’t be on the line tonight, but you better have your ass ready in two weeks for the Anniversary Show. It will be on the line.”

Patting Wallace hard to the side of his arm, the CEO stumbles sideways before Cashe turns and walks away. Niobe Martin isn’t heading to ringside with Cashe so she is left standing there shaking her head at Wallace.

WALLACE: ”What?”

NIOBE: ”You just gave him open bar to do even more damage and get even more wild than before…Good job!”

Niobe passes by Wallace and leaves him second guessing his decision to try and put more weight on Cashe’s shoulders.

OPENING MATCH
EXTREME RULES
TRIPLE THREAT MATCH
JOHNNY MENTAL VS. CYRUS RIDDLE VS. JASON CASHE

The view changes to an overhead shot of the United Center in Chicago, Illinois. The arena is almost packed, with a few empty seats scatted through the mix of people below. In the crowd, a few signs stick out as the camera zooms into them, getting a closer view.

WHERE’S DAKOTA?

JETT MAKES ME WILD

UNSTABLE 4 LIFE

Down at ringside, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa sit at the announcers booth, ready to get things underway.

JOHNSON: ”Welcome ladies and gentlemen to another 4CW Adrenaline! I’m Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! We’re coming to you live from the United Center in Chicago, Illinois for tonight’s event and damn if it isn’t primed to be one hell of a show!”

JOHNSON: ”You can say that again, Vinny! Oh wait, don’t. You don’t have to repeat yourself because we both know you will.”

VASSA: ”The night is only getting started and you’re already being rude as hell. What gives?”

JOHNSON: ”I’m sorry, Vinny, I should try being a little nicer because you’re nothing but a saint.”

VASSA: ”Now you want to be a smart ass? Is that sarcasm?”

JOHNSON: ”It could very well be!”

VASSA: ”Whatever, lets just get on with the show.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s the plan! So we’ve been told that we can at times be a little boring here to start things off so tonight, we’re going to jump straight into the action with our opening match.”

VASSA: ”This is going to be one bloody mess by the time it’s all said and done.”

JOHNSON: ”Before we jump right into the first match, Let’s take a moment to talk about the recent events and ending to our last episode of Adrenaline.”

VASSA: ”The 4CW Champion was tied up and taken away by three masked individuals. I thought Dakota did the kidnapping around here but these folks, the decided to prove otherwise.”

JOHNSON: ”It was definitely a turn of events that no one saw coming but leaves us with a lot of questions, the main one being why?”

VASSA: ”That’s a good question. Dakota finally claimed the throne and was at the top of the food chain here in 4CW. He’s done a lot of dirty, vile, and disgusting stuff to get there but it had all finally paid off. And in the blink of an eye, he’s gone.”

JOHNSON: ”That abduction was thought out and planned. It looked professional and I know one person who had a lot of pressure on him as well as the funds to make it happen.”

VASSA: ”Who might that be?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know if I should outright say it. I don’t want to get into any trouble.”

VASSA: ”Just say it you big pussy.”

JOHNSON: ”One has to be careful when making allegations like this.”

VASSA: ”If you won’t, I will. It was Perry fucking Wallace!”

JOHNSON: ”That’s one way of saying it. Look at the facts. Dakota has been on the rampage. He’s kidnapped people. He even tried to kill someone at Fright Night. Mr. Wallace was under a lot of pressure to do something about it, to gain control of his locker room. He couldn’t outright go to Dakota directly, the man is a monster. So professionals had to be brought in.”

VASSA: ”I get the theory but I’m not quite buying it. Dakota was aligned with Cyrus Riddle, Omerta. Cyrus has ties to Wallace. If Wallace wanted Dakota to tone it down, he could have easily went to Cyrus about it.”

JOHNSON: ”You’re right, that’s why it is just a theory. It could very well be the new brotherhood within 4CW now and that being Unstable.”

VASSA: ”Let’s just hope it wasn’t because if it was, this opening match is going to be very, very interesting.”

JOHNSON: ”Kicking off the evening we have Johnny Mental, Cyrus Riddle and the 4CW Extreme Champion, Jason Cashe all in the ring together for an extreme rules triple threat match!”

VASSA: ”That is what I’m talking about! Let’s start this show off with a bang!”

JOHNSON: ”I’m sure Cyrus has his suspicions. He’ll be in the ring with Cashe and just might be able to get some questions answered if Unstable in fact had a hand in Dakota’s disappearance.”

“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.

POWERS: ”Up next!”

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

“Right Now (laughing)”

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

“I am an anti-Christ

I am an anarchist,

Don’t know what I want

But I know how to get it

I want to destroy the passerby

‘Cause I want to be anarchy!”

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

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

“Anarchy for the U.K.

It’s coming sometime and maybe

I give a wrong time, stop a traffic line.

Your future dream is a shopping scheme

‘Cause I want to be anarchy”

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

POWERS: ”And last!”

The Arena goes into a brief Silence before Jason Cashe comes out from the back with the XTV Championship around his waist and a smile on his face as he hears the place give him either Jeers and Cheers. Depending on the opponent more one than the other but he takes it all in, deeply inhaling the air with his head tilted back and his eyes closed at the edge of where the stage meets the entrance ramp.

POWERS: “From Houston, Texas! He is the XTV Champion!!….”THE TROUBLED” JAAASSOOON CAAAAASSSHE!!!”

Patting the Championship around his waist, he takes two quick puffs from an “Air Joint”, Cashe rips the belt off and throws his arms up above his head holding his Championship high. He shows it to those watching at home before slapping the camera away. He begins to head to the ring. A few fans holding out their own Titles, Cashe “high fives” his belt to theirs as 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.

Dipping through the middle ropes, he enters the ring. Walking to the opposite side, he raises the XTV Championship, leaning against the ropes, he roars out, getting hyped up over the upcoming match.

”RRRRAAAAHHH LIGHT THAT SHIT UP!!!”

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

VASSA: ”Well that’s everyone and a brand new championship for Cashe.”

JOHNSON: ”Well he did destroy the Extreme Championship belt two weeks ago but now he has the new XTV Championship. He’s no longer a champion without a trophy.”

VASSA: ”Kind of like a smile without the two front teeth!”

JOHNSON: ”Oh look at you being clever tonight!”

VASSA: ”I try my best.”

JOHNSON: ”All three are coming off big wins from two weeks ago. Johnny Mental defeated Bryan Williams in his debut. Cyrus Riddle defeated Lord Raab in one bloody extreme rules match. And Jason Cashe nearly ended Nick Watson’s life right before our very own eyes.”

VASSA: ”That was a nasty beat down wasn’t it?”

JOHNSON: ”It sure was but tonight he’ll have a bit of a challenge with both Mental and Riddle in the ring with him, or outside of the ring. You never really know how these things will turn out.”

VASSA: ”Ain’t that the truth! This thing could very well end in the street or on top of the building. I just hope it stays close because I enjoy watching these matches in person.”

JOHSON: ”With all the goodies we have here at ringside for them to play with I doubt the fight will get too far away.”

VASSA: ”Oh boy, oh boy! Look at the weapons galore!”

Standing in the center of the ring, the official checks with Johnny Mental who quickly gives the nod that he’s ready. Looking over to Riddle, the ref gets the nod from him. Turning to Cashe, the official checks for the signal as Cashe then steps out of the corner and roars loudly into the air. Accepting that, the official then throws his hand in the air and signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

With the XTV Championship in hand, Cashe runs out of his corner and charges towards Riddle across the ring. Once half way, Cashe throws the championship forward, aimed for Riddles head. Ducking as it passes by, Riddle avoids taking the championship to the face as it flies over his head and out of the ring. He then pops back up and stares straight ahead at Cashe only to then take a stiff kick to the ribs as Mental races over from the nearest corner. Buckling over to his side, Riddle leaves his head open for Mental to then grab ahold of it and lock his arm around it. Mental then lifts Riddle up from his feet and drops him to the mat with a snap suplex.

Before Mental can get up, Cashe charges in and delivers a running knee to his ear. Mental’s head flops over to the side and then bounces off the ropes only to receive another knee from Cashe who is quick with the attack. Cashe then grabs him by the head and pulls him up to his feet. With Mental’s head in his grip, Cashe then pulls it inward and bites down across the bridge of his nose. With Cashe’s teeth locked down on his nose, Mental throws a wild punch and connects with Cashe’s kidney, forcing him to let his bite up as the pain sinks in. Mental then grabs him by the head before throwing him to the ropes, sending him up and over, falling to the floor.

With Mental’s back to him, Riddle slips in behind him and delivers a forearm shot to the back of the head. Riddle then spins Mental around and surprises him with a vicious European uppercut, sending his head flying back as spit erupts from his mouth. Just as Mental pulls his head back forward, Riddle then hits him with another European uppercut and then a third, sending him stumbling backwards and hitting the ropes. Grabbing onto the top rope with both arms stretched out, Mental maintains his footing until Riddle charges in and hits him with a running clothesline, sending him flipping over the top rope and crashing hard to the floor below.

VASSA: ”Well that’s two on the outside. Let the fun begin!”

JOHNSON: ”There are weapons scatted all over the floor. It’s only a matter of time before we see some bloodshed.”

On the outside, Cashe is back up and slowly limping his way over to mental. Grabbing ahold of his head, Cashe pulls him up to his feet and then locks onto him. Inside the ring, Riddle then runs to the ropes behind him. After coming back on the rebound, Riddle leaps through the top and middle ropes, flying to the outside and crashing into Cashe and Mental with a suicide dive, sending everyone to the floor

JOHNSON: ”Make that three!”

VASSA: ”That’s what I love about these matches. People tend to put their bodies on the line in the name of violence.”

JOHNSON: ”That suicide dive was a risky move but luckily for Cyrus, he had Cashe and Johnny there to break his fall.”

With all three down on the floor, they crawl their separate ways, slowly getting to their feet. Up first, Riddle looks over to Cashe who has made his way to the corner of the barricade. He then rushes over with both hands above his head. Swinging down with a double axe handle, Riddle comes up short as Cashe pops on and delivers a thrusting headbutt to his stomach. Cashe then grabs ahold of Riddle’s head with both hands and throws him back first into the corner of the barricade. On one knee, Riddle holds himself up with help from the barricade. Cashe then takes a few steps back, creating a little distance between the two before running towards him and hitting him in the face with a running front dropkick, knocking him down into a seated position.

Pushing himself up, Cashe then places one hand on Riddle’s head while drawing back with the other. Just as he swings downward, he catches a glimpse of mental in the corner of his eye running towards him. Ducking down, Cashe uses his body to lift Mental into the air as contact is made and then stands straight up, sending Mental flipping over him and the barricade, falling hard to the floor on the other side. Cashe then turns his attention back to Riddle and delivers a couple of hard right hands to the top of the head. Turning around, Cashe backs himself against Riddle before grabbing onto each side of the barricade in the corner. He then sticks his hips outward before rolling them around momentarily.

VASSA: ”What the hell is he doing? Is he giving Cyrus a lap dance?”

Cashe then slams his butt backwards, squashing Riddle’s face with it and pressing his head against the barricade.

JOHNSON: ”Ugh, now that’s just gross!”

VASSA: ”Ha-ha! Cashe promised Cyrus something special earlier on Twitter. This must be it! He’s going full ATM!!!”

JOHNSON: ”ATM?”

VASSA: ”Don’t worry about it, Steve. We wouldn’t want you getting pinkeye.”

After grinding on Riddle’s face for a few moments, Cashe pushes himself away from the barricade. He then slowly turns around but before he can fully face Riddle, Mental lunges over the barricade with an iPad and demolishes it over Cashe’s head.

CRACK!!!

Mental then hands the remains to a fan standing by, who appears somewhat disappointed but also amused by seeing their personal item used in the match. Holding the side of his head, Cashe rubs his hand back and forth, smearing a little blood over his skin. Mental then reaches over the barricade with both hands and locks them onto Cashe’s head. Pulling Cashe close to the barricade, Mental then drops down to both knees, pulling Cashe’s head down and planting his face into the top railing of the barricade.

CLUNK!!!

VASSA: ”That’s one way to knock some sense into Cashe.”

JOHNSON: ”Let this be a lesson folks. Don’t bring expensive items with you to these events, especially if you are in the front row because there is a chance that they will be used. That poor fan won’t be going home with that iPad tonight.”

VASSA: ”Maybe 4CW will reimburse that fan?”

JOHNSON: ”I highly doubt that.”

VASSA: ”You’re right, Wallace is a cheap bastard.”

In a daze, Cashe back steps away from the barricade, bent over and holding his face. Hopping over the barricade, Mental then runs towards Cashe and tackles him to the ground, slamming his back into the ringside steps and knocking them over. Mounting himself on Cashe, Mental then unloads with rapid strikes, connecting with Cashe’s head and body. After landing a pretty combination, Mental then grabs him by the head with both hands and slams his head forward, giving Cashe a powerful headbutt and knocking the back of his head against a piece of the steps.

Looking to his right, Mental spots a nearby kendo stick. After reaching over and grabbing ahold of it, Mental locks both hands onto it and then jabs it forward, driving it into Cashe’s face over and over. Mental then raises it above his head, still holding onto it with both hands. He then goes to slam it down once more but as he does, Riddle grabs it from above and stops it downward movement. Riddle then overpowers Mental and pulls the kendo stick down and across his throat before pulling back on it and choking Mental with it. Riddle then pulls Mental up from Cashe, dragging him away with the kendo stick still pressed against his throat.

Turning red in the face, Mental fights to break free but just can’t seem to do so. Riddle then pulls back on the stick, lifting Mental up from his feet and then slams him backwards with sort of a German suplex variation, using the stick to lift him instead of his arms, and driving his head into the floor.

VASSA: ”HOLY SHIT!!!”

JOHNSON: ”I’ve seen a lot of suplexes in my day but this has to be a first with someone using a weapon to lift the opponent.”

VASSA: ”I say it each and every week we have one of these matches. Anything is bound to happen!”

Upon impact with the floor, the stick broke in half after being used as leverage across Mental’s throat. Riddle rolls over and pushes himself up before looking down at the two halves in his hand. He then throws them into the crowd as if they were drumsticks at a concert. Grabbing ahold of Mental, Riddle pulls him up to his feet and then rolls him into the ring. Looking around, Riddle spots a few more weapons and slowly picks them up. He then throws them into the ring, first a chair, second a crutch, and third a miniature statue of Santa Claus.

Riddle then rolls into the ring and quickly pops up to his feet before looking to his right and locking his eyes on the Santa. He picks it up with ease and shakes it with both hands, showing that it doesn’t weigh that much. With Mental slowly getting to his feet, Riddle then runs over and swings for his head with it.

JOHNSON: ”AAHHHH!!!”

VASSA: ”Oh shit!”

Grabbing the nearby chair, Mental swings upward with it and connects with the bottom of the Santa, shattering the ceramic and sending pieces flying all over the ring as it explodes. With debris in his eye, Riddle quickly rubs them with his hand, blinded for the moment. Mental then jabs the chair into Riddle’s stomach, forcing him to lunge forward and over. With Riddle bent down in front of him, Mental then hits him across the top of his abck with the chair.

CRACK!!!

Dropping down to one knee, Riddle plants his fist into the ground and keeps himself from completely going down. Mental then slams the chair to the mat and then wraps his arm around Riddle’s head, pulling him back up to both feet. With Riddle’s head locked up, Mental then falls backwards and plants Riddle face into the chair with a DDT.

THUNK!!!

VASSA: ”DDT ON THE CHAIR!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Riddle’s out cold!”

Mental then rolls Riddle over to his back and makes the cover as the ref sweeps in for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

VASSA: ”NNOOO!!!”

JOHNSON: ”It’s Cashe!”

Back in the ring, Cashe grabs ahold of Mental’s leg and rips him away from Riddle, breaking up the pin. Riddle then rolls over to his back while Cashe keeps a grip on his leg. Drawing his other leg back, Mental then kicks it forward, planting his foot into Cashe’s face and sending him stumbling backwards and crashing into the corner. Pushing himself up, Mental then charges towards Cashe and hits him with a running clothesline but as he does, Cashe raises his knee and drives it into Mental’s family jewels.

VASSA: ”OOHHHH!!!”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know which one got it worse.”

VASSA: ”I don’t know about you Steve, but I’d rather be hit with a clothesline all day over a shot to the nuts.”

Lunging over and holding himself with both hands, Mental slowly backs away from Cashe in the corner. Shaking the clothesline off, Cashe then turns around and begins to remove the top padding of the turnbuckle. After finally loosening it up, Cashe digs around underneath before pulling the infamous loaded tube sock and holding it above his head.

JOHNSON: ”Things are about to get messy!”

VASSA: ”At least he didn’t pull it out from his underwear this time.”

JOHNSON: ”It doesn’t matter where he pulls it from. What matters is what’s inside.”

VASSA: ”I’m going to take a wild guess and say there’s about twenty dollars worth of quarters in there.”

JOHNSON: ”HERE IT COMES!!!”

CHA-CHING!!!

Just as Mental stands straight up, Cashe swings forward with the sock in hand and hits him over the top of the head with it. As the sock makes contact, it busts open and quarters fly into the air like lava erupting from a volcano.

VASSA: ”There’s the Change Up!”

Mental wobbles in place for a moment before falling backwards and crashing to the canvas beside Riddle. With the busted, empty sock in hand, Cashe backs away before looking into the camera and saying “fuck this”. Cashe then climbs through the ropes and walks over to the XTV Championship lying on the floor and picks it up. He then looks abck to the ring with his toothless grin and shrugs his shoulders before walking up the entrance ramp.

JOHNSON: ”Where is he going?! What’s Cashe doing?!”

VASSA: ”I believe the exact words were, fuck this.”

JOHNSON: ”He had the match in his hands with both men down. What is he doing?!”

Cashe makes his way up the ramp before stopping at the top and looking back to the ring once more. Shaking his head back and forth, he then walks through the curtain and disappears.

Back in the ring, Riddle begins to move. He rolls over to his side and throws an arm across Mental as the ref drops down for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”Cyrus did it! He’s finished the match after Cashe laid Johnny out.”

JOHNSON: ”That was just too easy for him. Cashe did all the work right there at the end. Why did he leave?”

VASSA: ”He thinks Wallace was setting him up to get beaten in this match so he decided to do his thing and then leave, not giving Wallace the satisfaction.”

JOHNSON: ”But to throw a match?”

VASSA: ”What the hell does he care about a loss? The XTV Championship wasn’t on the line. He made a statement here tonight, regardless of if he won the match.”

“Anarchy in the U.K.” hits the speakers as Riddle slowly climbs to his feet, looking over the ring at the mess of loose change scattered everywhere. The official then raises his arm into the air as the bell sounds.

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

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

Riddle then rips his arm away from the ref before pacing the ring, furious that he didn’t get to end things with Cashe and possibly get some answers in regards to the whereabouts of the 4CW Champion, Dakota Smith.

VASSA: ”He doesn’t look too pleased about this win.”

JOHNSON: ”Why should he be? Unstable is a suspect in the disappearance of Dakota as well and with Cashe leaving like he did, Cyrus didn’t have a chance to get some answers.”

VASSA: ”The night is still young so there’s plenty of time left for him to bang on some doors.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s our opening match folks. We’re going to go backstage momentarily but will be right back here at ringside for our next match.”

As you go backstage you are staring at the men’s bathroom for a few seconds before it sings opens and out walks “The Distinguished” Caleb James O’Donnell. As CJ exits the bathroom door he has a paper towel in his hands and is drying his hands. As CJ looks up he sees Jack Vaughn standing directly in front of him.

O’DONNELL: “Who the hell are you?”

Vaughn stares at him with a blank look for a moment, before he adjusts his suit and responds.

VAUGHN: “Jack Vaughn, today’s my first day. Nice to meet you, CJ. You and your crew have been making some big moves lately, I like it.”

As CJ looks at Jack a little taken back that someone who meet him directly outside of a bathroom but it is what it is.

O’DONNELL: “Can you give me a little space please so I can get out of this bathroom doorway. So Jack what can I do for you? Do you need me to take someone out for you?

Vaughn shakes his head and laughs.

VAUGHN: “Ha, no, no, nothing like that, I appreciate the offer, though. I guess that means you’ve been informed about who I am and what I’m doing here. In 4CW, not the entrance to a bathroom, I mean. I really gotta piss, but hang tight, I want to pick your brain about a few things.”

Jack starts to move away from CJ and places his hand on the bathroom door. CJ sides steps Vaughn as he waits outside of the bathroom door but on the opposite side of the wall. As O’Donnell leans up against the wall.

O’DONNELL: “He is here one day and already he wants to speak to me. I wonder about what? Hmmm I don’t think I failed a drug test?”

After about two minutes Jack exits the bathroom and CJ doesn’t waist any time.

O’DONNELL: “Alright so how can I assist you?”

Vaughn nods his head, almost approvingly, before he looks toward his suit to ensure there’s no watermarks or paper towel particles clinging.

VAUGHN: “I want to know what your plans are. In general, just, what you think you’re doing in 4CW, where you’re going. You and Cashe really beat the fuck out of that chick, and hey, I don’t know who the hell she was, and if that’s your guys’ deal, as long as people love it or hate it, one way or another, I’m good. I didn’t come here to micromanage. I do want to know, as it relates to macromanaging, where your head’s at. Where are you going and what are you doing? To who, with who, why? Don’t give me a bullshit answer, either- not sayin’ that’s you, you seem to be more brutally honest- just know I can tell when even an honest person is lyin’ to me.”

Jack, with concentrated eyes, but otherwise neutrality of face, lightens up for a moment, remembering rules of respect.

VAUGHN: “Also, thank you for waiting, that was a long piss, I’m sorry. Long evening.”

O’DONNELL: “No need to apologize for the long piss it happens. I have had long nights before with a shitload of alcohol. It is like the first piss in the morning it is so refreshing. My plans are simple I am here to conquer 4 Corners Wrestling with Unstable by my side. Anyone who gets in my way will have to suffer the consequences. I am the type of person who kicks ass first and asks questions later. Would that be a problem with you?”

CJ looks at Jack as he is intrigued by how is he going to answer his question.

VAUGHN: “No, no, that’s no problem for me, I usually prefer it that way. I’m pretty sure that’s your job, out there. It’s my job to make sure that folks are doing what they should be doing and aren’t doing what they shouldn’t be doing. What you SAY you’re gonna be doing is a great answer. What your eyes tell me, and what common fuckin’ sense tells me, is that I told you not to give me a bullshit answer, and you just gave me a bullshit answer.”

Jack scratches his face briefly, and looks away from CJ, his face expressing slight frustration.

VAUGHN: “Alright, I’m sayin’, that’s the way I feel about that answer you gave me, right now. If you’d like to change it, no hard feelings, no disrespect felt. If not, I’ve stood here and told you, in not so many words, that I’m not the one to fuck with and that nothin’ much really gets too over on me, and now I’ve called bullshit. You stick with bullshit, then you’re disrespecting me. Remember, I’m not here to stop you, I’m not here to shut you down. I’m here to make sure you don’t do what you and Cashe just did when you fuckin’ shouldn’t, you know what I’m saying? You’re up, go ahead.”

O’DONNELL: “Jack let’s make this very fucking clear I am here to hurt people. I do not give a fuck who toes I step on. Whose dreams I crush. I am a professional wrestler because I want to be. So as far as you saying, I gave you a bullshit answer I think you should look in the mirror Jack! You need ME. You need UNSTABLE. 4 Corners Wrestling would be in some serious trouble without us. You know it and I know it. We put asses in those seats. We sell merchandise. We get reactions. So go ahead Jack walk that thin line and try to be the guy who doesn’t choose a side. You will sooner or later. And I hope for your sake you choose the right side. Consider it a threat if you want but I say it is a guaran-fucking-tee NO-ONE crosses UNSTABLE!!”

Jack’s lips are a bit pursed, as he nods his understanding as minimally as possible, while his shoulders slowly creep toward the center of his neck.

VAUGHN: “Okay, CJ. I get that. The Unstable is uncrossable, for fear of death, that’s fine. Great. You’re right, that type of shit does sell the T-shirts I’m now ultimately responsible for selling. As far as 4CW being in trouble without Unstable, CJ, as great as you and your friends are, every business I’ve ever attempted to manage has succeeded resoundingly well. That’s not conceit, or arrogance, that’s a fact. I do that by doing what you say I can’t, and that’s staying true to MY book, and nobody elses. The mantra of that book, behind all of its chapters and tips and warnings, is honesty, and honesty don’t take sides, you understand?”

Jack unbuttons and rebuttons his suit coat, taking a deep breath, relaxing his shoulders a touch.

VAUGHN: “Until the Unstable starts being fuckin’ boring and unworthy of Mr. Wallace’s air time, an unfortunate call that has to be made by me, then I have no problem with the Unstable. However, I asked you what you were doing, where you were going, and with who. You’ve met me with a bullshit answer twice, now. I officially don’t like you, and after the shit I’ve seen from your crew, I’m not sure that you’re all that great for 4CW. I’m going to suggest you walk that way, now, and Ill keep going this way. I’ll see you again soon, though, rest assured. Just remember, CJ, I’m not the one to fuck with. Make sure you pass that along to Mr. Frankie Morrison for me, too. Fuckin’ Twitter genius smartass.”

The scene cuts backstage where we find Perry Wallace walking down the halls, appearing to be talking to himself. With the view set to his front, we walks towards the camera while it backs away, keeping a slight distance between the two.

WALLACE: “We haven’t been hosting our events in these larger venues for long, almost half a year I guess you could say. Business is good though and with that, we needed to grow due to our fan base. It’s nothing new in this business, but something I’m rather proud of. I’m just glad that you decided to travel with me and get a look at the operation first hand.”

The camera then zooms out to reveal a lovely woman walking side by side with Perry. The lovely woman in question was Kaysie Sherell. The buxom brunette has a smile on her face as her eyes divert from the ceiling, then down to the floor. After a moment, she looks up at Perry with a smile.

KAYSIE: “Well, color me impressed. Everything about this place just seems so… poifect. Perry I have to say, I really didn’t think that I would have enjoyed coming here with ya, but I was so wrong. It’s been a bit since I’ve actually attended a wrestling event, and I’m enjoying it. Of course, I think I’m enjoying it because of you.”

With a dumbfounded look on his face, Perry pauses briefly before replying, thinking to himself, making sure to not say something that would result in him looking like a fool. The two continue walking down the hall before Perry breaks the silence, clearing his throat with a goofy smile on his face.

WALLACE: “I’ll be honest with you, I was a bit surprised when you said yes after I asked if you wanted to fly out here with me. I’ve enjoyed the last few days in California. I needed to get away from everything. I needed to get away from business and just enjoy myself without having to worry about things here, things within the company. It’s been a delight and I would like to thank you for that.”

A smile comes over Kaysie’s face. She turns her head to look at Perry keeping her smile firmly planted. She then reaches over and places her right hand on his shoulder. Cocking her head to get a good look at him, she then takes a moment to just stare. After a short pause, she speaks.

KAYSIE: “Hey, I am all about making sure that people have a great time. I don’t know the perils that you go through running this place, but everyone deserves a little escape. Now, I do have a little question for you.”

Looking down at her hand on his shoulder, Perry nods before looking back to Kaysie.

WALLACE: “What’s on your mind?”

Kaysie turns her head for a moment before looking back at Perry.

KAYSIE: “How have you taken me around this entire arena, yet you haven’t shown me your office? I mean I would assume that’s the best place to be for action. Well, next to the ring anyway.”

Perry then looks to the camera briefly with a smirk on his face before looking back to Kaysie.

WALLACE: “I just wanted to give you a little tour of the place, even though it changes from week to week as we travel across the country. Ringside does have one hell of a view, but the view is even better in my office, not to mention a lot more comfortable. Shall we?”

UNDERCARD
CJ O’DONNELL VS. KELLEN SHAW

As “Bitter End” by The Veer Union begins to play the black curtains begins to move and out comes CJ O’Donnell. CJ roars out at the stage top. Fans give him a pop but the majority vibrate the place with boos.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at one hundred sixty pounds and standing five feet, ten inches tall! He is “The Distinguished”, CJ O’Donnell!”

Heading to the ring, CJ overlooks the crowd as he walks down the aisle, focused on the ring ahead. He then climbs the ringside steps, wipes his feet on the top before entering the ring. As CJ hops over the top rope and raises his hands in the air as he gets another chorus of jeers from the fans. He then stands in his corner, awaiting the arrival of his opponent.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

“Break” by Three Days Grace hits the speakers as Kellen Shaw walks out from the back and makes his way down to the ring.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Hollywood, California, weighing in at two hundred fifty four pounds and standing six feet, four inches tall, Kellen Shaw!”

Shaw then rolls into the ring and pops up to his feet as CJ stares at him from across the ring. he then stands in his corner, looking across the ring at CJ, awaiting the sound of the bell.

VASSA: ”CJ destroyed Taryn Willow two weeks ago in his first official match being under the 4CW banner.”

JOHNSON: ”That match didn’t last long at all. On the other hand, Kellen Shaw hasn’t had the best of luck in 4CW and could get back on track with a win here tonight.”

VASSA: ”Unstable has made quite an impact, I see Cj keeping that momentum going here tonight.”

After getting the nod from both corners, the official calls for the bell as the match is officially underway.

DING!!! DING!!!

CJ steps out of his corner, arms spread and taunting Shaw across the ring. He stands in the center of the ring, mouthing off at Shaw who is timid at first to approach him. Shaw then steps away from the corner and makes his way over to CJ. The two stand toe to toe, Shaw looking down at CJ as he clearly has the height advantage. The two then circle one another for a moment and making the first move, Shaw lunges forward to lock up but CJ steps out of the way and trips him as he passes by. Falling to the mat, Shaw slaps the canvas in anger before pushing himself up and quickly turning back to CJ.

The two then circle each other once more, Shaw makes the first move again by lunging in to lock up but misses as CJ side steps him and then kicks him in the behind as he passes by. With a look of embarrassment on his face, Shaw turns around in anger, slowly growing red in the face. Looking back at him, CJ laughs to himself, joking at the sight of Shaw’s anger. Shaw then charges towards him full speed, arms flying wildly but runs into a stiff punch to the mouth as CJ fires back, quick on his feet.

Stopping in place, Shaw rubs his mouth and then looks at the blood on his finger from his lip. He then leaps towards CJ but gets taken down to the canvas face first as CJ side steps him and takes him down with a drop toe hold. Pushing himself up, quickly, CJ bounces back and forth before looking to the nearby camera and shrugging his arms.

VASSA: ”I think CJ is toying around with Kellen.”

JOHNSON: ”it appears so, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”Well, at least he’s having some fun, right?”

Shaw pushes himself up and then shakes his head back and forth in frustration. he then rushes towards CJ and swings for the fences with a right hook. Ducking out of the way, CJ avoids contact and then pushes Shaw in the back, sending him stomach first into the ropes. Bouncing off the ropes, Shaw falls into CJ’s clutches as he wraps him up and then lifts him into the air before putting him down on the mat with a backdrop.

Rolling over to his stomach, CJ then does a few pushups before standing tall and laughing at the sight of Shaw’s frustration. CJ then looks back at the nearby camera with cockiness.

O’DONNELL: ”Let me stop playing around.”

As Shaw pushes himself up and gets to his knees, CJ then takes off towards him and leaps into the air, hitting him directly in the side of the head with a running high knee.

JOHNSON: ”Irish Knowledge!”

VASSA: ”More like an Irish Car Bomb!”

CJ then crawls over to Shaw and covers him for the pin by laying his back across him, in a relaxed position.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: ”Well that didn’t last long at all.”

VASSA: ”impressive but short. There’s no denying that CJ has destroyed the competition placed in front of him since signing with 4CW.”

CJ then pops up to his feet in excitement before releasing a howling battle cry. “Bitter End” hits the speakers as the ref stands in beside him and raises his arm into the air.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall, “The Distinguished”, CEE-JJJAAAYYY… OOOOOOOO… DDOONNNNEELLLL!!!”

CJ then rips his arm away from the ref before surveying the damage he has done. He then walks to the ropes and points to the nearby camera, waving for it to come closer. Once up close and personal, CJ looks directly into the camera with cockiness.

O’DONNELL: ”Is this the best you have? Unstable for life!”

4CW cameras cut to the backstage area where Cyrus Riddle is walking down the corridor. Still in his ring gear, he has a towel draped around the back of his neck, still collecting himself after the triple threat match earlier in the night. As he approaches his locker room door, he begins to slow down while looking ahead, curiously. Upon reaching the door, he raises an eyebrow as a gorgeous female walks into view.

RIDDLE: “Well… pleasant surprise to see you here. Rorie Steele, correct?”

STEELE: “That’s right. And you’re Cyrus Riddle… The one who came to talk to the low life’s in the Bayou and show them your moves. That correct too?”

Riddle laughed as he nodded his head.

RIDDLE: “That’s accurate, yes. However, I was also there to see you capture some gold. Very impressed.”

A small smirk showed itself at the side of her mouth.

STEELE: “The talent there is questionable at best. It was an easy match.”

She shrugged and ran her tongue along her upper lip.

STEELE: “You say you came… just to see little ol’ me?”

A smirk appeared on the face of Riddle, as her actions and words caught his attention.

RIDDLE: “Yeah, well, I was invited, wanted to see what Erron was made of. Admittedly, my attention was caught by your talent. Can’t deny when someone stands alone and makes it look simple, yet extravagant. Of course, then there’s the social media interaction.”

Her smirk grew quickly.

STEELE: “Ah yes… Twitter. I may or may not have said some very interesting things on there regarding a certain part of your… anatomy in my mouth.”

She smiled sweetly at him, biting her lip gently. In response, he took the towel and wiped his forehead with it, stalling somewhat.

RIDDLE: “Yeah… thank you for the kind compliment. It was rather brave of you, which is admirable. Honestly, I have a feeling that you might be a bit dangerous.”

STEELE: “Dangerous? Me?”

She feigned a shocked expression. She moved herself closer to him, running a pointed nail down his chest, gentle at first. She let her hand drop down as she got to the top of his bottoms.

STEELE: “Sugar… you have no fucking idea.”

She raised her arm up quickly, dragging her sharp nails along the left side of his chest, opening the freshest scars on his skin. He looked at her in amazement, the blood beginning to drip from his chest with hardly a facial reaction to being cut open by her nails. Only a few seconds elapsed before he gave faint glimpses of a smile.

RIDDLE: “My point is more than proven, even exceeded. You’d have to be dangerous to do that, especially considering the level of fear you basically just laughed at that most people cower to.”

She shrugged once again, bringing a finger up. She put it into her mouth, slowly licking the blood off. Her finger dragged down on her lip as she finished, dropping her hand to her side again. She licks her lips.

STEELE: “I’ve never been one to cower. I do what I please, whenever I please. And someday… that may have to include that cock of yours.”

She bit her lip seductively once again, watching him. After a few moments, she slipped past him, leaving him to ponder what just happened. As he watches her walk away, his face with a bewildered, yet impressed look, he shakes his head as if in disbelief before entering his locker room, wiping some blood from his chest with the towel.

The United Center is buzzing, as we’re at a bit of a lull in the show. Suddenly, “Days of Revenge” begins to play as the crowd reacts to the arrival of Bryan Williams.

VASSA: “And here comes Bryan Williams, seems to be on a losing streak lately.

JOHNSON: “Well, he hasn’t had much of an easy time since that big win at Fright Night. Cyrus Riddle, and then Johnny Mental, I think anyone would have a tough time with that.

VASSA: “Doesn’t seem to be having a good time with his partner either, you know some people say those tag titles are cursed. I think I’m starting to believe it.”

JOHNSON: “Come on, Vinny. This is an exciting team we have as our champions, they just have a few more kinks to work on.”

VASSA: “It seems like every week they’re trying to fix something else! How can a team this dysfunctional continue to survive?”

JOHNSON: “I don’t know, but Bryan is standing in the ring. He looks like he’s ready to talk…

Bryan stands in the ring, a pensive look on his face as the microphone is in his hands. With the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, we can see that he’s starting to sweat a bit. He takes a deep breath, and begins to speak.

WILLIAMS: “Well, if you haven’t noticed lately, things have been pretty rocky for me here in 4CW. I signed up to be apart of that tag team tournament to get some nice experience, but I ended up really enjoying myself here. The fans, performing in front of you all night is what kept me coming back. So I told my father, Perry Wallace, that I had to be apart of this place full time.”

A nice break makes room for cheers from the audience, Bryan quickly continues.

WILLIAMS: “I thought I had made a good choice, and when I won those tag team titles I knew I had what it took to belong here. But time has passed on, and with two losses in a row I need to take a step back. I need to re-evaluate some things with my career.”

VASSA: “See! Look, dude is ready to quit right now. Come on you pussy, work through it!”

JOHNSON: “Vinnie, let the man finish up. I don’t think he’s quitting.”

WILLIAMS: “First thing is first, I need to evaluate who I spend my time with around here. Being surrounded by family is nice, because they’ll always try to do right by you. They won’t try to lead you astray, and point you in the wrong direction. So I’m not worried about them, what I am worried about is a certain partner of mine lately. Somebody who has told me earlier to change a few things up, change how I look at things. They want to change who I am, and how I act in this ring. Guys, I got to tell you that I cannot allow that to happen.”

A pleasant reaction from the United Center crowd, here in Chicago.

WILLIAMS: “I always come to fight, but I don’t need to resort to underhanded tactics to get a win. I give it my all, and I respect every single person who faces me in that ring. I just can’t see myself becoming this new person, and tarnishing all of the hard work I’ve put in here. I listened to my partner describe how she was going to leave her opponent laying, after their match was over. What good does that bring? How do you think that presents our TEAM to everyone else? They don’t want to see somebody represent the company like that, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let that happen. I won’t allow somebody to drag me down, because she feels like being a bitch.”

Before Bryan can continue he is abruptly cut off by “Immortalized” rocking the United Center with it’s metal guitar. Aidan is barely out of the entrance to the stage before she begins speaking.

CARLISLE: “That’s Alpha Bitch, get it right. Tell me something, Cryin’ Williams, what exactly has being Mr. Nice Guy gotten you, huh?”

WILLIAMS: “Well, it brought me this tag team championship. Half of twenty five thousand, and I guess the motivation to carry your sorry ass through that tournament!”

CARLISLE: “Careful now, that almost sounded bitchy there, buttercup. Playing nice is not what got you through that tournament. Kicking our opponent’s asses is what won us the titles. Beating bodies into the mat until they couldn’t move. The Misery Business got us there. You holding our victim so they couldn’t escape while I dropkicked them right into your German suplex got us to victory. Not smiles and respect.”

WILLIAMS: “Well, I certainly don’t think attacking our potential opponents before the contract is even signed is a smart move. You want to prove how good we are? How about you start acting like a champion, not some punk always looking for a fight. Nobody wants to see that Aidan, you can get the job done without acting like a twat.”

CARLISLE: “And you can be a champion without acting like a doormat. You might enjoy letting people wipe their feet on you, but fuck that. She got all dewy between the thighs when she heard I was her opponent tonight, so I’m going to give her the pounding she thought she wanted. Not my fault she’ll change her mind once I’m done.”

WILLIAMS: “I’m telling you right now, you bring this to a point where it shouldn’t go and I’ll have to intervene. Do you really want to do that? Do you really want to throw away all that we’ve worked for here in 4CW?”

CARLISLE: “No, I want to continue being the Alpha Bitch, and you to stop being a bitch boy.”

Bryan goes to say something, but instead hesitates. The crowd is unsure of what’s happening, they begin to boo as Bryan drops the microphone and walks out of the ring, towards the back.

CARLISLE: “There you go, holding back again! Make sure you hang your head and tuck your tail between your legs while you walk away, too!”

Throwing her hands up, Aidan drops her mic right there at the top of the ramp and turns to disappear backstage.

The production cuts to the backstage area of the United Center. Gabriel Hartman is scouring the corridors of the arena, looking for an interviewee. As he turns a corner he comes to an abrupt stop, nearly causing the camera crew following him to crash into him like a multi car pile up. Down the hall, about thirty feet away is Chris Madison, standing alone, stretching as part of his pre-match warmups. Hartman seizes the opportunity and rushes towards Madison, hoping to get a few words before Frankie Morrison surfaces.

HARTMAN: ”Chris! Can I please get a moment of your time?”

Madison has one leg up on a large equipment case, leans forward with both hands, reaching for his ankle. At the sight of Hartman he drops his leg down and quickly lowers his head. Madison spins around, hoping to walk away without having to field any questions. Hartman remains persistent and places a hand on Madison’s shoulder.

HARTMAN: ”Just a few quest…”

Madison quickly spins around and snatches Hartman by his throat, slowly squeezing with one hand as he shoves his back against the concrete wall.

MORRISON: ”Lay a hand on me again and I guarantee that you’ll never be able to ask another question as long as you live…”

Frankie Morrison appears with a smug smirk on his face. He watches momentarily as Chris Madison continues to crush Hartman’s larynx with his vice like grip. Frankie places a hand on Madison shoulder and pats him just above his shoulder blade.

MORRISON: ”Let the poor guy go Chris. He’s just trying to earn a living.”

Madison releases Hartman but gives him an extra shove for good measure. Hartman slumps his body as he presses himself up against the concrete wall. Frankie takes a step forward and lifts Gabriel Hartman up by his shirt, straightening it out and dusting off his shoulders. He pats him on the chest before taking a step back.

MORRISON: ”You okay Gabe?”

Hartman coughs, trying to catch his breath so he can speak.

HARTMAN: ”I think I’m okay…”

MORRISON: ”What the hell were you thinking? Putting a hand on Madison just for some measly interview…”

HARTMAN: ”Not my brightest moment…”

MORRISON: ”I would have to agree Gabe…”

Hartman doubles over for a moment, dry heaving as he chokes, trying to get a decent breath in his lungs. Madison stood behind Morrison, stone faced and ready to pounce; the only thing stopping him was an outstretched hand from his agent, Frankie Morrison.

MORRISON: ”You know I have to applaud the sacrifice you were willing to take just to get a decent interview for the show. I always told Perry that he struck gold when he hired you as the backstage interviewer… Now I’m sure there are plenty of people clamoring to hear just what Chris has to say about everything going on around him lately. The Unstable has formed in 4CW and he’s a cornerstone of the group. Each show that passes he gets closer and closer to the Red Pioneer’s impressive record of eleven straight wins to start his 4CW career. On top of that he’s choked out the 4CW Pride Champion and has every intention to do it to a former 4CW Champion later tonight. Sadly, I regretfully have to inform you that Chris isn’t fielding any questions. He’s strictly focusing on the task ahead and wants no distractions.”

Morrison turns around and whispers to Chris before the two begin to move away from Gabriel Hartman and the production crew.

HARTMAN: ”So that’s it. The big bad Chris Madison stands behind Frankie Morrison like nothing more than a glorified attack dog, just biding his time and awaiting the command?”

Madison stops in his tracks as he was walking away and brings one hand up, covering his mouth as he chuckles. He spins around and lunges back towards Hartman, forcing him to flinch.

MADISON: ”I suggest that you hold your tongue before I rip it out of your mouth!”

HARTMAN: ”No need for threats Chris. I’m fully aware that you’re capable of kicking my ass. You’ve got yourself a big match tonight against Felicity Banks, hands down one of the best that 4CW has to offer… We’ve all heard how much the Red Pioneer’s record means to you. All I wanted to know is can we expect some kind of integrity from you despite your new found allegiance to the Unstable? Is this match with Felicity going to be a fair, one on one, or are your boys going to make sure that your streak continues?”

MADISON: ”You’re right. I want that record bad… But I’m not looking for an asterisk to be placed next to my name in the record books. I’ve joined the Unstable because I believe in the message they’re trying to spread, not because I need backup. I’m fully capable of handling myself in the ring… I’ve proven that time and time again over my fifteen year career. Felicity Banks is going to get a fair one on one matchup, but by the time I’m through… She’ll be wishing she had some numbers on her side to give her a helping hand…”

HARTMAN: ”It may not be wise to dismiss Felicity Banks so easily. She is a former 4CW Champion. She did just defeat Dakota Smith two weeks ago before a group of jackals kidnapped him. She’s as good as it gets… probably your toughest challenge to date.”

MADISON: ”You’re absolutely right. She is my toughest challenge to date. Her credentials speak volumes about her and anyone who doesn’t take her seriously shouldn’t be stepping through those ropes against her. But she’s not the first challenge I’ve faced since joining 4CW. Cyrus Riddle was a challenge when I faced him. So was the 4CW Pride Champion, John Austin when I faced him. It’s funny… Some people see adversity and they run with their tail tucked between their legs, looking for anywhere to hide. Me… I like to face adversity head on. I welcome challenges with open arms! After tonight, the biggest travesty won’t be the Unstable stealing me a victory. It will be that there may not be too many more challenges left on the roster to stand in my way.”

Madison steps passed Hartman and shoulders him out of the way. Frankie Morrison followed behind him, smiling while shaking his head. Hartman’s back hit the concrete wall enough for him to gasp for air as the production crew cut away from the scene.

UNDERCARD
BRONX VALESCENCE VS. LORD RAAB

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

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

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

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

“Monster” by Skillet plays over the sound system as Lord Raab comes out through the curtain with Henry Losak.

POWERS: ”Introducing to the ring from Cologne, Germany, weighing in at two hundred fifty pounds and standing six feet, four inches tall. He is “The Green Disease German Monster”, LORD RRAAAABB!!!”

Raab and Losak stand at the top of the entrance ramp, looking towards the ring, ignoring the fans in attendance. Raab then slowly proceeds towards the ring. Still ignoring the fans, he walks up the ringside steps before entering the ring underneath the top rope. He crouches down in the corner, moving back and forth, rubbing his hands together in excitement and rolling his neck around. He remains focused with anger in his eyes as he waits for the match to begin as Henry Losak stands at ringside.

VASSA: ”Up next we have Bronx Wallace and The Green Disease, Lord Raab, going head to head here tonight in Chicago, Illinois!”

JOHNSON: ”Bronx is coming off a quick win from two weeks ago over “Young” Mannie. I guess you could say that Bronx served him his papers as Mannie has now been shipped off to Fate.”

VASSA: ”That was classic! Mannie didn’t know what to expect. You never do when Bronx is in question, the kid is wild.”

JOHNSON: ”He’ll have a tougher challenge tonight as Lord Raab has been going through some changes. Although he’s coming off a tough loss by the hands of Cyrus Riddle, I expect Raab to come out here tonight on a mission.”

VASSA: ”His mission is to infect the entire planet with that green goo. I don’t want any of it on me, sorry. I will not hesitate to use you as a human shield if any spews in our direction.”

JOHNSON: ”Well isn’t that nice of you?”

Standing in the center of the ring, the ref grabs Bronx’s attention. Bronx drops down to his feet and then removes his shades, tucking them in his waistband of his trunks. Bronx then points to the ref with his hand simulating a pistol and fires, giving him the signal that he’s ready to go. Looking to the other side, the ref quickly gets the nod from Raab without hesitation. The official then throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Before the bell silences, Raab pushes himself away from the corner and heads straight for Bronx. Hesitant at first, Bronx then steps out of the corner with his fist clenched. The two meet in the center of the ring and Bronx takes the first swing, connecting with a stiff right to the side of Raab’s jaw. Raab then lunges forward to lock up with Bronx but misses as he side steps him. Moving in behind Raab, Bronx wraps his arms around Raab’s waist and then lifts him up into the air and drops him to the mat with a release German suplex.

As Bronx stands back to his feet, Raab pops up and then charges towards him, catching him off guard with a clothesline that sends him straight to the mat, flat on his back. Raab then leaps straight into the air and comes down with an elbow drop across Bronx’s chest. Crawling on top of Bronx, Raab then grabs his head and begins violently slamming his head downward into Bronx’s, hitting him with vicious headbutts. After landing a handful of headbutts, Raab stands to his feet and then reaches down, grabbing a handful of Bronx’s hair. He then pulls Bronx up to his feet and then throws him to the far corner across the ring.

After slamming into the corner with force, Bronx’s feet lift up from the mat and just as they touch the mat, Raab is right there with a spear straight to the gut. Raab then lifts Bronx up and sits him on top of the corner. Climbing to the middle rope, Raab then fires away with rapid punches to Bronx’s head. Drawing back for a power punch, Raab screams straight into the air before swinging but as he does, Bronx chops him in the throat and knocks him off balance. Grabbing onto Raab’s head with both hands, Bronx then pushes Raab away while jumping away from the corner himself. With Raab’s head in his clutches, Bronx lands on one knee and drives Raab’s face downward into the other.

VASSA: ”Wake up call!”

JOHNSON: ”That was out of no where.”

VASSA: ”Lord Raab was in his groove but Bronx saw an opportunity and took it.”

Raab’s face bounces off of Bronx’s knee as he stands straight up in a daze and wobbles back and forth before stumbling backwards. Bronx then pops up to his feet and charges towards Raab, hitting him with a running forearm to the chops. Still on his feet, Raab staggers across the ring. Bronx then charges towards him again but this time hits him with a running European uppercut, sending Raab’s head jerking backwards, but still, on his feet. With Raab out of it mentally, Bronx brushes the hair out of his eyes and then takes off towards him like a mad man. Bronx then leaps into the air and plants both feet into Raab’s chest, hitting him with a running dropkick that sends Raab crashing into the corner.

Holding himself up with the ropes, Raab catches his breath with his head held low. Back to his feet, Bronx quickly moves in and hits Raab with another running European uppercut, this one standing Raab straight up. In a burst of energy, Raab then swings towards Bronx but misses as he ducks underneath and steps by him. Positioning himself behind Raab, Bronx then wraps Raab up and lifts him up from his feet and slams him to the mat with a belly to back suplex. Rolling Raab onto his back, Bronx then makes the cover and hooks the leg as the ref sweeps in for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

JOHNSON: ”Raab kicks out!”

VASSA: ”Only the two count for Bronxy V!”

Pushing himself up, Bronx grabs ahold of Raab’s arm and then pulls him to his feet. He then goes for a Northern Lights suplex but before he can lift Raab up, Raab pushes him away and breaks the hold. Bronx then lunges forward with a haymaker but instead gets his arm trapped by Raab who blocks the assault. Raab then traps Bronx’s other arm and slams his head forward, connecting with a blunt headbutt right between the eyes. Still not satisfied, Raab then slams his head forward again and again, hitting Bronx and beating him senseless with repeated headbutts.

Raab then forces Bronx’s head down and locks in a double underhook. Using all of his strength, Raab then lifts Bronx up, flips him over and slams him to the canvas with a double underhook suplex. On his feet again, Raab paces around Bronx for a few moments before grabbing ahold of his arm and dragging him back to his feet. Raab then places Bronx’s head between his legs and wraps his arms around his waist. Lifting Bronx up from his feet, Raab then holds him in a crucifix position for a few moments before throwing him down to the mat with a powerbomb.

Dropping down to both knees, Raab covers Bronx for the pin as the ref drops down for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

VASSA: ”There’s still hope for Wallace Jr!”

JOHNSON: ”I’m surprised to see him kick out of that crucifix powerbomb but he did before the three count.”

Looking up at the ref in a rage, Raab stands to his feet and then backs him into the corner, screaming at him as loud as he can, cutting over the sounds of the crowd. Scared in the corner, the official holds his hands up to defend himself but Raab doesn’t attack, he just continues screaming and intimidating the ref. Meanwhile, Bronx slowly climbs to his feet. Once standing, he looks to the corner and spots Raab with his back turned to him. Bronx then closes in slowly, sneaking up behind Raab. Tapping on Raab’s shoulder, Bronx grabs his attention and as he slowly turns around, Bronx hits him in the mouth with a spinning heel kick. Bronx then locks his arms around Raab’s head and flips him over to his back with a snapmare. As Raab hits the mat, he rolls into a seated position but doesn’t move. Bronx then runs past him to the ropes in front and after rebounding off of them, Bronx comes back with a running dropkick to Raab’s head, sending his head crashing against the canvas.

VASSA: ”He’s going to give Raab some serious whiplash by the time this match is all said and done.”

JOHNSON: ”What’s he doing now?”

Bronx gets back to his feet and then turns to the nearest corner. After climbing to the top, he stands straight up and reaches into his waistband, pulling out his pair of sunglasses. After brushing the hair out of his face and putting them on slowly, the crowd erupts with mixed reactions, mostly boo’s.

VASSA: ”What’s going on?”

JOHNSON: ”What now? What are the fans reacting to?”

VASSA: ”What the hell is goi–“

JOHNSON: ”It’s Jason Cashe! It’s the XTV Champion!”

Running down to the ring, Cashe yells at Bronx, grabbing his attention as he stands on top of the corner. Turning his body, Bronx begins to mouth off at Cashe as he slowly raises his hand and points down at him. With the XTV Championship in hand, Cashe holds it as a weapon while yelling at Bronx. The two continue arguing with one another as the crowd slowly gets louder and louder in anticipation of what’s to come next.

JOHNSON: ”What is Cashe doing out here?!”

VASSA: ”I don’t know but if I had to guess, he’s come out here for Bronx since he’s Wallace’s son.”

JOHNSON: ”Bronx hasn’t done anything to him though.”

VASSA: ”You think Cashe cares about that?”

As the two argue back and forth, Raab slowly climbs to his feet.

VASSA: ”Uh-Oh!”

JOHNSON: ”You better turn around, Bronx! Lord Raab is up and moving in behind you!”

Spotting Raab behind Bronx, Cashe continues to distract him, yelling foul words at him and spitting in his direction. With Bronx’s back turned to him, Raab creeps in behind Bronx and stares at him on top of the corner for a moment before making his move.

VASSA: ”Turn around Bronx!”

JOHNSON: ”This is going to be bad.”

Cashe then backs away with the championship in hand, making his way up the ramp. Still focused on Cashe, Bronx laughs as he points up the ramp and tells him to “run along”.

VASSA: ”Here comes Raab!”

Raab then reaches up with both hands and wraps his arms around Bronx’s waist. As he does, a surprised look comes over Bronx’s face as he quickly knocks his sunglasses off, revealing his widened eyes. Raab then pulls Bronx away from the corner over his head and drives him into the canvas with force, executing a German suplex and then bridging it for the pin.

JOHNSON: ”THE KILLERPIN!!!”

From across the ring, the ref rushes over and slides in for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”Raab’s won it! He’s beaten Bronxy V right here!”

JOHNSON: ”He didn’t do it alone though. If it wasn’t for Cashe, Bronx could have finished Raab off while he was down.”

VASSA: ”And if my aunt had a dick she’d be my uncle!”

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

Raab then stands to his feet as “Monster” hits the speakers. The ref then raises his arm into the air momentarily before Raab rips it away from him and walks around the ring, unsure of what to do next.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall, “The Green Disease”, LORD RRAAAABB!!!”

As Perry Wallace sits at his desk in his makeshift office he demands be created for him week after week as they hop from city to city, he polishes off his glass of Crown Royal whiskey. Considering the stress that he’s been under, with the Unstable movement, he does what any sensible owner of a multi-million, even billion, dollar company would do. He opens his desk drawer, picks up a masterfully rolled joint, lights it, sits back, and puffs.

WALLACE: “I wonder if that new chick’ll let me hit like…again and again, before the night’s out. Like rabbits.”

Perry’s inner monologue spoken aloud is interrupted by a knock on the door.

WALLACE: “The fuck? Bronx? Is that you? Cyrus? My kids comin’ to see me? Or, SHIT, nah, it’s them two chicks that wanted to get down together without me suggesting it. Either way, if it’s one or ALL of y’all, I am NOT disappointed.”

The door opens, and a large man enters, standing about six feet, two inches, weighing around two hundred and seventy five pounds, or so, wearing a dapper, cobalt blue, Caraceni suit, Gucci loafers, and a look of slight consternation as his furrowed brow hoods over concerned, deep set eyes.

WALLACE: “Who the FUCK- oh, nah, wait, you’re that fuckin’ guy I hired to do all the shit I don’t wanna do. My new GM, right? I ain’t never seen anyone around here make chubby look debonair or some fuckin’ fruity ass word like that, so you must be…fuck. Rick Vaughn? Why am I thinkin’ Rick Vaughn? That’s it, right? Yeah, like the mothafuckin’ WILD THING. Major League, motherfucker! Charlie Sheen’s dirty-”

Perry drops his head in contemplation for a moment.

WALLACE: “Well, nah, I ain’t even gonna say that…matter of fact, I’m lucky as fuck. Good run, Topper Harley…fuck, new GM? Get production on the phone, I want “Wild Thing” to be your walkout music.”

Perry hits the joint a couple of times before exhaling a cloud of almost clear, white smoke.

WALLACE: “I did party with Charlie Sheen once though…I swear if he’s the reason I get AIDS after all I’ve done…FUCK…Can’t believe you’re named after Two and a Half Men’s Charlie Sheen…by the way, if two and, maybe, a half cocksuckin’ intern bitches knock, you gotta go. I don’t share pussy with other dudes simultaneously.”

Another big hit from the joint, and Wallace has barely looked at his new Adrenaline GM yet.

WALLACE: “…Ricky Vaughn…Wild Thing…you don’t look like a fuckin’ Wild Thing…look like you’re about to give me fuckin’ detention and a stern talkin’ to. Remind me of a principal…some shit..”

Looking to his right for a moment in brief disbelief, “Rick Vaughn” adjusts his suit coat by its front buttons.

VAUGHN: “Mr. Wallace, forgive me, but are you finished?”

Wallace looks back at his new GM with a cocked head and slightly offended expression, on the way to saying, “what the fuck did you just say to me?” but stops short, saying nothing- mostly, because he hadn’t yet ascertained if this WAS in fact his new GM, but a little because the guy looked like he might not be one to flex muscle on.

VAUGHN: “My name’s Jack Vaughn, Mr. Wallace. Jack Vaughn. Good movie, though…don’t care for the song, I’m sorry. Anyway, I am your new General Manager, yes, we spoke on the phone several times and actually met about three nights ago. We’ve interacted on twitter. You acknowledged that I worked for you now, and told Morrison to let me speak.”

WALLACE: “……yeah, yeah, I remember that shit, now, one hundred percent. Yup, yes.”

VAUGHN: “Don’t sweat it. I’ve had some fuckin’ hazy nights in my day, too. We’ve all had our benders. You’ve got a stressful job, I know- sometimes you need an escape, as is evident by the half empty bottle of Crown Royal sitting on top of the receipt paper that came with it, as well as that joint you’re smoking in the middle of our meeting. Smells like good shit, though- haven’t smoked in twenty years, but that smell never leaves your nostrils. Anyway, as we established many times over the phone and even when we met in person, I’m here to help alleviate that stress.”

Wallace raises an eyebrow, before the rest of his delayed reaction sets in, which proved to be him rolling back in his chair until he crashes into the wall behind him.

VAUGHN: “THE FUCK?! ‘Alleviate that stress,’ to me, means sucking my dick, because I’ve only heard that phrase in pornos and from hookers I pay to pretend like they’re my secretary or, at times, estranged, divorced stepmother! If you come NEAR my cock, I swear to God-”

Vaughn grimaces as he helps himself to a seat, before immediately leaning forward onto the edge of Perry’s desk- the contents of which has three cell phones, all linked up to Twitter, thick bits of ash, the already half empty bottle of Crown Royal with accompanying documentation of date purchased (two hours ago), two used rocks glasses, and what looks like a small line of white powder in the corner.

VAUGHN: “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Perr- Mr. Wallace! Don’t ever mention your cock to me again, alright? Please, rest assured, we’ll both be better off if you just forget to ever mention anything like that EVER again. Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but do I look like I’m a shitcocked dandy to you?”

Perry sizes him up, taking his point into consideration. Vaughn leans back in his chair, popping his suit coat out and adjusting his collar, as if someone in the very private office was playing the conversation over the PA system.

VAUGHN: “By alleviate stress, I mean, literally, help you get shit done around here, and make sure it gets done the right way. The ratings boosting way. The profitable way. Without feeling overconfident, Mr. Wallace, I can say that everything I’ve touched, I’ve made better in the business world. I make money. I figure out the angles quicker than anyone you’ve ever met and I understand the markets better than anyone you’ve ever met. I will cut the shit you don’t need and replace it with more shit that you do. Without you even knowing it, or having to give a shit, though I know that you do. Let me put it to you this way. I can sell ice in winter, fire in hell…I’m a born hustler, alright, Mr. Wallace? I can sell water to a well.”

WALLACE: “Did you just fuckin’ quote Jay-Z while bein’ middle aged, kinda chubby, white and wearing that suit?”

VAUGHN: “What?”

WALLACE: “You just fuckin’ quoted Jay-Z that’s a fuckin’ Jay-Z lyric.”

VAUGHN: “Alright? I’m not familiar, but maybe I heard it from my idiot son’s room.”

WALLACE: “That’s cool as FUCK you just did that. That’s a sign. I think you’re gonna work out, I like what you’re saying- but also, I need to start wearing a Go-Pro ALL the fuckin’ time, because that shit should have been captured for history. My fuckin’ 8th grade principal just spit some Jiggaman.”

Jack’s blank, if not puzzled stare finds the top, far right corner of the room as he shares some thoughts with himself. Perry doesn’t get up, but he does bother to show his enthusiasm with a brief fist pump and head nod, whispering, ‘what the fuck’ to himself with bridled elation.

VAUGHN: “Okay, Mr. Wallace, well, I’m thankful that you could meet with me, tonight, but maybe we could meet tomorrow, after just one or two glasses? No offense, I just don’t appreciate getting belittled by anyone, even a man of your…stature.”

Ignoring Vaughn’s attempt to respectfully imply that Wallace needed to watch his words and tone, Perry continues on with his little ball busting tear.

WALLACE: “HA-HA- nahhhh’ you’re mothafuckin’ “Wild Thing!” You know what the fuck to do…make money, and make it so that I’m drinking and doing drugs to have fun and not because I’m stressed the fuck out! Tonight, tomorrow, we can meet, but I hired you because you know business. I hired you because you don’t need this job, but you can’t resist TAKING this job- I kinda remember some shit, now. I ain’t gonna explain shit to you FURTHER, at any point! So, g’head HOV! Show me what you got- li’l mama, show me what ya got- pretty lady- HA HA…”

Perry chuckles to himself, finding his timing with the Jay-Z lyrics to be impeccable. After his laughing ceases, his smile remains as he spaces out for a moment. Snapping back to it, his eyes dart to meet Vaughn’s, who wears his best poker face, but is finding it difficult to check his fists, let alone his mouth. Wallace drops the smile…

WALLACE: “Nah, seriously, you start tonight, and I want to see you make some fuckin’ moves. Mix some shit up. Shit- the fuck happened to my joint? You take my joint, somehow? Some trickery you learned in the Marcy Projects?”

Perry throws his eyes toward the floor with concern. Jack ignores any and all discussion of the weed, takes a deep breath, and tries to expel the resonating anger from his system. He always wanted to be a pro-wrestler, but life and smart decisions got in the way. This was his chance to be part of doing something he really loved- he was good at business, really good, but no business was like THIS business. If this was a consulting meeting, Perry’s head would have already been through all four of the walls.

VAUGHN: “Listen, I know you like whiskey, you don’t remember I guess- or, remember much- but we talked about it the other night. I’m a bourbon fan- it’s basically whiskey but there’s a few nuances that make it different. You don’t strike me as one to give a fuck about any of that, now that I think about it, BUT, I think you like shit you can brag about. The Pappy Van Winkle distillery in Kentucky was looted of a great deal of its bourbon earlier this year. It’s considered the best bourbon on the market to begin with, but now that it’s already limited supply was cut that much smaller, it’s worth a helluva lot more. This bottle, I grabbed from one of the bars I silent partner in. Pappy Van Winkle 23 Year…used to be a $470 bottle of bourbon- now, a $3,000 bottle of bourbon. That’s for you, enjoy that, drink it when you START drinkin’! He-he! Don’t waste it on rippin’ shots with the interns, you know what I mean?”

The last couple of sentences, Jack had to shout over the desk, as Perry had now entirely removed himself from his chair, looking for his missing joint. Needless to say, Perry hadn’t listened to a word Jack just said.

WALLACE: : “I was holding the joint in my fuckin’ hand. How do you LOSE somethin’ like that? Did I make any emphatic hand gestures, Hovito? How the fuck did you miss where it went? You gonna miss a fuckin’ paycheck…”

Opening up the bottle that he just gifted to Wallace, Jack picks up one of the used rocks glasses- peers at it for a moment in judgement, and then sets it back down. For the first time ever, he took a shot of Pappy Van Winkle 23 Year Old bourbon to the face. He stood from his chair and swiftly maneuvered his way into Perry’s line of vision- had it not been directed at the floor.

VAUGHN: “Hey, Perry, listen, don’t call me that, again. Alright? Ever again. Or “HOV,” or your 8th grade principal, or “Wild Thing,” you understand? I get that you’re a man of leisure and like to keep things laid back- you like to bust balls. I do too, after I know a person for a while and we have that rapport. We don’t know each other and we don’t have that rapport, Mr. Wallace. It ain’t ballbusting’ if you try to belittle me without knowing my right fuckin’ name, OR respect what the fuck I’ve done. That might be alright where you come from, but it ain’t where I grew up. That’s not how I operate. I don’t like names, I don’t like disrespect. Especially not from someone I’m going to be making a much richer man, simply because I love this fuckin’ business.”

Vaughn adjusts his suit by the buttons again, rolling his neck back and forth, noticing that he finally has Perry’s attention.

VAUGHN: “I appreciate the opportunity to fulfill one of my dreams, Mr. Wallace, and I will not let you down, I promise you that. But remember- I wake up in the morning and piss making good great, great better, and better best. I’m about to do that for you. So, with all due respect, don’t ever talk to me like I ain’t shit to you, or like I’m beneath you on any life scale other than official hierarchy in Four Corners Wrestling, ever a-fuckin’-gain. Not the one to fuck with, Mr. Wallace. You let me do my job, you respect me, and I’ll make sure you’re pissing in platinum urinals for the rest of your life.”

Backing away from Wallace, while adjusting his suit again, which seems to be a nervous habit, Vaughn takes his seat, again.

VAUGHN: “Aside from an implied warning, there was no disrespect intended, there. I promise you, though, that warning- that suggestion- if heeded, will greatly benefit our working relationship and 4CW’s cohesiveness as a legitimate business operation, in general. Fair enough?”

Looking at Vaughn as if he had just spoke in tongues, Wallace was relatively dumbfounded. No one had spoken to him like that since winning the Powerball. No one that wasn’t a certified psychopath, like Dakota Smith, anyway.

WALLACE: “Yeah. I am your boss though, motha- I am your boss, though, don’t ever forget that.”

VAUGHN: “I’m a military man from a military family, I never forget my place. I also did my service, so no one gets to talk to me like I’m some kind of rat bastard bitch, either.”

Wallace seems satisfied with the answer, though he still seems unsure of how to process the recent exchange. Vaughn rises to his feet and reaches out to shake Perry’s hand, who reciprocates.

VAUGHN: “Let’s have some fun, let’s make some fuckin’ money- fuck, Wallace, your fuckin’ trash can is ablaze.”

Wallace’s eyes dart toward the waste basket next to his desk, flames and smoke growing larger and thicker by the second.

VAUGHN: “Guess we found the joi- AH, what the fuck?!”

Head in his hands, Jack watches as Perry instinctively starts to pour a good amount of the $3,000 bottle of Pappy 23 Year on the fire, before realizing that the slow release from the bottle was not rapid enough to douse the flames, if they would even DO that, and instead, sent repeated fireballs into the air. Wallace screams out “FUCK” as he throws the rest of the bottle with all of his might against the wall, shattering the collector’s booze of all collector’s booze into a million twenty three year old, 51% corn-mash liquor soaked pieces. Jack nimbly lifts the trash can up and flips it over with precision and speed, effectively suffocating the fire. After checking to make sure it’s entirely out, he heads for the door.

WALLACE: “THAT’S WHY THE FUCK I HIRED YOU! YES!! MOTHERFUCKER JUST PUTS OUT MY MOTHA-FUCKIN’ FIRES….THAT HE ALSO CLAIMS HE CAN SELL IN HELL, JUST LIKE JAY-Z, GOD DAMN! I say that with respect, Jay-Z is a blessing to humanity.”

With the biggest scowl one may venture to guess he’d worn since the Bosnia conflict, Vaughn calmly shuffles towards the door, hiding his facial expression from his new employer.

VAUGHN: “I’m goin’ to meet my fuckin’ locker room and do what the fuck I do. You’re not fucked up like you were the other night we met, but if I were you, I’d rip that line sitting on the corner of your desk before you start interacting with your staff, HBO, and the entire fuckin’ world. I’m sorry if I’m speakin’ out of turn, it won’t happen again.”

The last words were accompanied by the door thunderously closing behind him.

WALLACE: “Motherfuckin’ HOVA’s sharp…forgot all about the yay…”

UNDERCARD
KAT JONES VS. JAIR HOPKINS

“Release me”

The two words from the Public Address system in Chicago’s United Center cause the fans in attendance, already on their feet from an amazing night of action thus far, to react with disdain and unappreciative shouts. Kat Jones, 4CW’s resident, badass Kansas Citian of ill repute methodically makes her way to the top of the ramp from the gorilla position. Her black shorts and knee high boots are more characterizing of her facial expression and attitude toward the scathing crowd, than her highly decorative top full of self expression.

“No remnants were ever found of it

Feeling the hot bile

With every fake smile

Though no evidence was ever found

It never went away completely”

Kat walks toward the ring, methodically and without much concern at all, regarding the insults and jeers thrown in her direction.

POWERS: “Making her way to the ring, hailing from Kansas City, Missouri, standing five feet, eight inches tall and weighing in at 124 pounds, she is the HELLKAT, the WILDKAT, she is KAT JOOOOOOOONNNNNESSSSSSSSSS!!!”

JOHNSON: “Kat Jones looks like a woman on a mission, Vassa.”

VASSA: “The war of words she had this week with longtime 4CW fan favorite, Jair Hopkins, was one that many of us won’t forget for a while. She wants to knock Hop off, in a very bad way, tonight.”

JOHNSON: “For a beautiful, young woman, she sure does look like she has some ugly intentions.”

VASSA: “That was one of the finest pieces of commentary I’ve ever heard, Stevie. Thanks for being you.”

JOHNSON: “Is she not beautiful?”

VASSA: “Just shut the fuck up.”

“I try to hide from the unholy sound of it

Another day gone

Another night’s dawn”

Standing before the ring apron, Kat removes her black leather jacket, whips it behind her, releasing it and allowing it to sail toward the ramp, ultimately letting out a bloodcurdling scream, before she enters the ring and awaits Hopkins arrival.

JOHNSON: “She is one intense, fiery woman. I would not want to see her in the ring, especially not after such an intense week of debate.”

VASSA: “She’s a tough chick, that’s for sure, but you wouldn’t want to see a baby orangutan in the ring, Johnson.”

JOHNSON: “Long arms, red hair, creepy smiles, freakish strength, you’re absolutely right, Vinnie, I would not want to see a baby orangutan in the ring.”

VASSA: “You’re a weak, weak, pathetic man, Johnson.”

JOHNSON: “I’m me, Vinnie, you don’t need to drive the point home. In other topics of discussion, the crowd has gone from a sea of boos and hisses to an ocean of excitement and approval, as the sound of Jair Hopkins’ music just hit the airwaves!”

The lights grow dim as there are now red and white lights blinking in mix speeds…

“How many start a journey, but never see the end

I never ask how, conceive it then speak in whens

A man will work his whole life to see his ego shed

I sew it up needle head all I need is thread

A team can only take it as far as its strongest leader

The streets are red, runnin with the blood of non-believers”

As “Fate” by Ces Cru came in, Hopkins appeared from the back as his appearance drew a large amount of cheers. Those who remained on the other side of the fence tried to wash out the sounds of the loud cheers but they remained strong. The soft-white spotlight followed Hopkins as he slowly made his way to the ramp and down it, arms out wide as he takes the moment all in.

POWERS: “From the “Concrete Jungle” in Brooklyn, New York, he stands at five feet, eight inches and weighs in at two hundred eight pounds, JJAAIIRR …. HHOOPPKKIINNSS!!!”

“I’m out for action what the fuck are y’all about relaxin’?

They can doubt my sanity but never doubt my passion

And I don’t know why they deceive us, feed us lies mislead us

He who denies what he has seen is worse than blind believers

I just play the cards the way they’re dealt”

The lights come back to normal as Hopkins continues on, he goes left, going down the ramp as he slaps all the hands that are reaching out. Looking to his right, he goes up and does the same on the right side, getting them all as well. He finally makes it all the way down and with a speed burst, he rolls underneath the bottom ring ropes as he gets to his feet and immediately climbs the nearest turnbuckle. Dropping down soon after, he moves around the ring as he waits for his for the match to begin.

JOHNSON: “The energy in this arena right now is palpable, Vassa! These fans can’t wait to see these two rip each other apart!”

VASSA: “There’s an obvious advantage for Hopkins, who outweighs Kat by nearly one hundred motherfucking pounds, but as long as she can utilized her quickness and play it smart, she has got a solid shot.”

JOHNSON: “She’s been able to pull off tougher tasks, Vinnie. Plus, she is one of Wallace’s adopted children, so she’s got the confidence provided by a big family behind her.”

VASSA: “Yeah, that usually compensates for a fucking one hundred pound weight difference.”

JOHNSON: “It does in the world of pro-wrestling, Vinnie.”

The two competitors stand in their respective corners, limbering up, as Patrick McDade, appointed official for this bout, calls for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

The two combatants circle one another for a few moments, before attempting to lock up, an idea that Kat Jones intelligently scraps at the last moment, instead opting for a lightning fast dropkick to Jair’s knees, dropping the long time fan favorite to the mat, face first. Without wasting any time, Jones slaps on a variation of an arm bar, while sitting atop the shorter, but proportionally wide man. She yanks back and Jair winces in pain.

VASSA: “That does not look as though it feels good on the shoulder or the elbow, Stevie.”

JOHNSON: : “An intelligent approach to the match thus far from Jones, Vinnie.”

Her strategy only works for so long, due to the clear disadvantage in size and strength. Hopkins finds a way to his knees, which is all the base he needs to power upward, sending Jones back to the canvas. Jair follows his opponent’s falter, executing a quick roll up.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

VASSA: “You know Jones isn’t going down that easy!”

JOHNSON: “Can’t blame him for trying, Vinnie. Hopkins follows the rollup with tenacity, he wallops his opponent with a series of snap elbow drops! Jones is writhing on the mat! Hopkins bounces from the ropes and executes a senton splash. Back to his feet now, he’s back off of the ropes and onto his opponent with a jumping leg drop.”

VASSA: “He jumped from halfway across the ring to hit her with that leg drop. He wasn’t even on the turnbuckle!”

JOHNSON: “Hopkins is renowned for a lot of things, but what’s most impressive is the velocity with which he can move. He’s been banged up in the past, but he looks like he’s feeling back to his normal self!”

Johnson’s point is evident by the standing moonsault Hopkins performs next, landing on Jones with a great deal of impact.

VASSA: “He may have just crushed the young woman! She’s tough as hell, I know, but-”

JOHNSON: “COVER!”

ONE

.

.

TW–

Jones gets her shoulder up. Hopkins rises to his feet, undeterred by Jones unlikely kickout, and takes to the ropes again. This time, Jones is able to come to her senses enough to roll beneath the ring ropes and out onto the apron to regroup. McDade begins his count, but it isn’t long before Hopkins has a hold of Jones, who had been regrouping on one knee. McDade bounces backward to attain better position and avoid any interference from however Hopkins is planning to get Kat back into the ring. With his back turned for just that split second, Jones punches Jair straight in the crotch.

VASSA: “OHHHHHH, RIGHT IN THE DICK! HOLY FUCK, I CAN’T BREATHE!”

JOHNSON: “Jones is a helluva competitor, but she’s damn sure not afraid to do whatever it takes to win.”

VASSA: “I can’t fuckin’ breathe.”

JOHNSON: “Jones grabs a hold of the top rope and uses it to catapult herself toward a reeling Hopkins, and PLANTS HIM SQUARE ON THE HEAD with a FLYING TORNADO DDT!”

VASSA: “And now, I’ve got a fuckin’ headache. Somehow Kat’s offense is affecting me, Stevie. She’s used her pale skin, black hair, studded outfit, leather jacket, and overall goth-like, feminine witchcraft to hurt me as well as Jair! God damn it, Johnson, what did I do?!”

JOHNSON: “Probably should have agreed that she was beautiful. Here’s a cover! ONE, TWO, THR- NO!!”

Hopkins kicks out of the pin attempt, but barely, as his senses are confounded by the devilish one-two combination Jones just set forth upon him. Within moments, Kat is back to work, locking Hopkins into one of her favorite ground submissions, the highly effective Dragon Sleeper!

JOHNSON: “Dragon sleeper applied by Kat, now, and Hopkins looks to have no where to go. She’s got it locked in pretty tight.”

VASSA: “……………….CAN’T…….BREATHE……FOR A DIFFERENT REASON.”

JOHNSON: “He’s a big, fat moron, isn’t he folks?”

Jones has it locked in so tight, that it’s almost as if she’s supplanted the majority of her weight into Hopkins’ upper back middle back! Hopkins kicks his feet as the crowd chants his name in support. McDade asks him if he’d like to give up, if he’d like to throw in the towel, if he’d like to say he quits. Hopkins is unable to provide a response, due to his air supply being severely hindered, but the movement in his arms and legs suggest that he has not yet succumbed to the deadly submission hold.

JOHNSON: : “That dragon sleeper is vicious, but Hopkins is a fighter! I just don’t see how he’s going to get out of this!”

VASSA: “I gotta tell ya, Johnson, that 80 pound or so weight difference doesn’t seem to be holding Jones back at this juncture. Of course, starting off your onslaught with a punch to the nuts will help your cause every time.”

JOHNSON: “Regardless of her means to this end, Vinnie, Hopkins scientifically only has moments left before he’s lost this match!”

“HOP-KINS!! HOP-KINS!! HOP-KINS!!”

JOHNSON: “The crowd is pulling for, arguably, our most well-liked superstar here in 4CW! Let’s see if he can pull out of a miracle!”

VASSA: “After what she just did to him, he might not have to worry about pulling out of anything for a few days. Except, a miracle, right now, of course, yes.”

As Jair’s arms and legs begin to move more faintly, the encouragement from the crowd apparently gives Hopkins the ability to find and utilize his strength in a moment of deep desperation. Jones’ 124 pound figure works against her, after all, as Hopkins is able to pull off an unlikely, but HIGHLY impressive maneuver! Hopkins uses his superior leg and core strength to find his way to a bridging position, while he wraps his arms around Kat’s waist, and in one fell swoop of almost unfathomable athleticism, flips the HellKat over his chest and down to the mat, head first, between his legs.

VASSA: “HOLY SHIT!!”

JOHNSON: “GOOD GRACIOUS!”

“HO-LY SHIT! HO-LY-SHIT! HO-LY-SHIT!”

Hopkins somehow just turned a losing battle with a Dragon Sleeper into a sitting tombstone piledriver!!!

JOHNSON: “HAVE YOU EVER SEEN SUCH AN IMPROBABLE MOVE?!”

VASSA: “HOLY SHIT!”

JOHNSON: “THE CROWD IS ON FIRE, VINNIE, THE CROWD IS ON FIRE! Both competitors are now laid out on the mat.”

After hitting the move, Hopkins lays spread eagle on the mat, catching his breath, while Kat Jones lies in a heap, just inches away from technically making a cover on Hopkins. Jones begins to stir a bit and suddenly realizes this potential opportunity.

JOHNSON: “WHAT A SMART GIRL, JONES IS GOING FOR THE COVER AND HOPKINS PROBABLY DOESN’T EVEN KNOW THAT COULD BE POSSIBLE- IT WAS JUST WHERE HE PLANTED HER ON THE MAT!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

VASSA: “Hopkins kicked out!!”

As soon as Hopkins realized the counting was for him, he was able to roll over onto his stomach. Despite being the one to make the cover, Jones is still reeling from the sitdown tombstone piledriver. She rests on the mat, heaving for oxygen and desperate for a break. She won’t be that lucky Hopkins gets to one knee, rests for a few seconds, and then rises to his feet. He takes Kat by the head and lifts her to her feet as well, a decision that quickly backfires, as she delivers a swift kick to the midsection. Hopkins doubles over and Kat latches on to his head, attempting to hit a Snap DDT-

JOHNSON: “She just went for FREAKED OUT, there, but Jair pushes her backward, he grabs a hold of her head, and wraps her arm around his own, he’s going for a suplex, he lifts her into the air and-”

VASSA: “BREAD AND BUTTER!! BREAD AND BUTTER!!”

JOHNSON: : “JAIR JUST HIT THE BREAD AND BUTTER RIGHT IN THE CENTER OF THE RIGHT! THAT HAPPENED SO FAST, VASSA, I CAN’T BELIEVE THESE TWO!!”

Hopkins goes for the cover after the spinning reverse facebuster!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: “HOPKINS PULLS IT OFF!”

POWERS: “THE WINNER OF THIS MATCH, BY RESULT OF PINFALLLLLL, JAIIIIIRRR HOPKIIIIIIIIIINSSSSSSS!”

JOHNSON: : “What a match, Vassa!”

VASSA: “It may have been a little quicker than we’d have thought, but both of these competitors show what they bring to the table, and god damn it, it could have gone either way!”

JOHNSON: “Jones almost had Jair with that low blow, flying Tornado DDT, Dragon Sleeper combo! She nearly pulled it out, Vinnie, and if she could have executed Freaked Out, she would have had the former 4CW Champion, but in the end, Hopkins’ power over the young woman, as well as his athleticism and ring awareness, enabled him to pick up the victory.”

VASSA: “I gotta tell ya, the way Jones performed in this match, I have a new respect for her ring intelligence. She is one hell of a competitor, and she almost took down the great Jair Hopkins. Not to mention, she can use her witchcraft, which is going to be dangerous in the future!”

JOHNSON: “Don’t detract from her performance, tonight, Vinnie, she’s one helluva competitor, and she’s going to be very, very tough to beat in the future, being able to say she almost knocked off one of 4CW’s future Hall of Famers.”

A video feed pops up as the scene opens up on a darkened building. The building is unknown, but there is a certain feeling of familiarity to it as the camera zooms up the fifty story building. It stops right outside of a window before cutting into a room that appears to be burned and charred to rubble. There is also a feeling of past successes within this one room and a lot of history behind it. Finally, we are brought to a shadowy figure that seems to be seated comfortably in the center of the room. A small cough is heard and it reveals that the shadowy figure at least appears to be a man. We don’t see his face as he’s keeping himself concealed nicely in the shadows. The man moves slightly in the chair before he starts to speak.

MAN:”This place here represents everything I was once about. This room, this office, this…sanctuary…it all meant something to me.”

The man’s hand can be seen emerging from the shadows as he points throughout the entire room. What’s noticeable the most about this strange setting is that the man’s hand is seen visibly shaking. The man brings his hand right back into the shadows before speaking once again. While his speaking remains calm, there is a sense of eeriness in his voice.

MAN:” Like this room that I am in, there was another place that I once ran my dominance in. Unlike this room, this place that I used to run over, I have unfinished business within that realm. That realm is known only as…..4CW.”

The man sits back in the chair as he starts to let out a methodical laugh. It wasn’t meant to be a threatening or fearful laugh, but rather, one that knows the destiny of his future. The laugh continues as the man dwells upon his 4CW past.

MAN:”I’m sure there has already been speculation about my imminent future, but I want to make sure everyone is clear of my intentions. In fact, my intentions shall be revealed in due time. That’s what makes me so great, so special. I have a knack for surprises and a habit of displaying shock value where none expects it. I have not only been known for this, but I PRIDE myself on showing up out of nowhere. You won’t see it coming. None of them ever do…”

The man all of a sudden tightens up as the video feed captures what appears to be the man clenching his chest as if he were in pain. A few moments pass by as the man is able to regain his composure. The man next lets out a sigh as we see his head drape towards the ground.

MAN:”This room that you see before you, its significant to me. It may not mean much to anyone else, but for me, it was my entire life. This room caught fire one day and I still do not even know how or what or even who caused it. There is one man who resides amongst you all currently who has not only seen this room, but knows exactly what used to be. Through this fire, however, something arose from it. Something that was clear as day and definitive rose and is currently growing in strength. I may be the same person everyone remembers me to be, but most importantly for myself, I am not that man anymore. There is something else that is driving me and steering me down a path of righteousness and enlightenment. That force is known as only one thing…..DARKNESS!”

Another laugh is released but this time, more firm and sinister. The man shifts back and forth in the chair as he lets the darkness pulsate through his veins.

MAN:”It doesn’t even matter where I am right now. For I am currently on another mission in which to turn a place that is right now corrupted and poisoned back into a prosperous and thriving environment. I used to think that I was doing the right thing back when I was on another path. However, I too, used to be one who thought that the old ways were the right ways. The darkness, I used to fear it. I had fought so long with it in the hopes of driving it out of my body and soul. It wasn’t long after that before I realized that I was wrong. I should have let the darkness consume me earlier and I shouldn’t have fought it. I know that, now. I look at 4CW now, and I see the same pattern in which I am trying to fight to keep it out. It’s been a long time since I stepped foot into the lands of 4CW. A lot has changed since those days. I have investigated something else and I can’t say that I’m surprised it has made its way through this business.”

The man pauses for a moment. Even though we still can’t see who this mysterious person is, there is a sense of violent and angry feelings that are felt as the Man is breathing heavier than before, almost as if he’s trying to maintain his sanity and keep himself in control. Finally, the man speaks out again, this time with a more firm and agitated voice.

MAN:”I know what plagues this company! I know what haunts most people that are just trying so desperately to survive. I have heard what this poison has called themselves. I have not encountered this poison…..YET. However, I know it by name. So I will put this poison on notice and give them a chance of turning things around before I take matters into my own hands. This poison is collectively known as the UNSTABLE! Yes, I know all about you merry bands of fucking peons and buckets of shitheads. I have studied you all without you ever knowing about my presence and that is what always makes me DANGEROUS! I will continue to thrive in the shadows until I feel the time is right to make my move. Make no mistakes about it, I will not only come back stronger, I will come back to pick up right where I LEFT OFF! Poisoned dominance needs to be countered with dominance that once made a division so unique. However, don’t let that confuse you with what plans I have when my return is nigh. I am gunning for the top and it’s time that I take the dominance to not only all new heights, but to another situation where dominance will prevail in yet another division. So there you have it. Don’t say I never gave any of you a heads up of my reemergence. It is simply only a matter of time before you all realize that there will be NOTHING any of you will be able to do to stop what is coming. Fear the darkness! FEAR ME for I………………AM COMING!”

The man starts to laugh softly at first until it picks up into a methodical laugh until finally, the man loses control and just starts to laugh manically. This continues for a few more moments before the man all of a sudden stops laughing and just snaps his fingers as the video feed immediately cuts out.

UNDERCARD
ZELDA ORION VS. AIDAN CARLISLE

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, a figure emerge from behind the curtain. Coming 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.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Vancouver, Washington, weighing in at one hundred twenty three pounds and standing five feet, four inches tall! Zelda Orion!”

Zelda pumps her fist in the air few times before another pillar of smoke goes off behind her. 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.

Once at ringside, Zelda slides in under the bottom rope. 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.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

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

“This is war time, this is our time

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

This is go time, this is showtime

We will fight ’til their wills are broken

This is game time, and insane time

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

Find the power, to devour

Let the beast inside now be woken”

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from New York, New York, weighing in at one hundred forty five pounds and standing five feet, eight inches tall! She is the “Queen of Extreme” and one half of the 4CW Tag Team Champions, Aidan Carlisle!”

In this world only the strong will survive

Hear the roar and you will know you’re alive

Feel the energy build in your soul

‘Cause it’s time”

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

“Oh, In the calm before the storm

Another legend will be born

Another battle will be won

We will rise

Oh, So heed the call of confrontation

Today we feed on domination

Secure a legacy that will never die

Be immortalized”

Aidan turns in a slow circle, taunting the crowd, gesturing for them to give her more before she lifts the 4CW Tag Team Championship high over her head, slapping the faceplate with determination.

JOHNSON: ”Up next we have Zelda Orion, one half of Bitch TV, taking on one half of the 4CW Tag Team Champions, Aidan Carlisle!”

VASSA: ”I guess this could be a warm up match for the two as both teams are destined to eventually tango with the championships on the line.”

JOHNSON: ”Since debuting, Bitch TV has impressed with the handful of wins over their opponents.”

VASSA: ”Yes they sure have! This singles match isn’t going to be a walk in the park by any means though. Aidan Carlisle has made quite a name for herself in 4CW and not just because of the Tag Team Championships, but because she has impressed in singles competition.”

JOHNSON: ”You’re right about that, Vinny. Aidan is a former 4CW Pride Champion but has also showed that she has what it takes in extreme rules matches. She’s truly proven to be an all around talent that can perform in any surrounding.”

VASSA: ”We’ll see how she does tonight against someone who wants what she has and that being the 4CW Tag Team Championship!”

In the middle of the ring, the ref waits patiently as the wrestlers settle down and ready themselves for the match. Aidan ducks under the top rope and places the 4CW Tag Team Championship onto the apron in her corner. The official then checks with Zelda who quickly fires back with a nod. Looking over to Aidan, the official points to her and without hesitation, receives a nod from her. With both ladies ready to throw down, the official then slowly raises his arm into the air before swinging it downward and signaling for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

As if the sound of the bell ignited a fire within, Aidan pushes herself away from the corner, making her way towards Zelda on the other side of the ring. Zelda then steps away from her corner with Aidan locked in her sights. As the two meet in the center of the ring, Zelda surprises Aidan with a front flip kick, aimed straight for her head. Side stepping the assault, Aidan then delivers a stiff kick to her mid-section while upside down in mid-air. With Aidan’s foot crushing against her ribs, Zelda’s rotation stops before she drops straight to the canvas, landing on her head.

Rolling away from Aidan, Zelda quickly pushes herself up but as she stands, Aidan is right there to greet her with a spinning elbow to the chops, knocking her into the corner. With Zelda backed against the turnbuckle, Aidan then lunges forward and hits her directly in the forehead with an elbow shot and quickly follows up with two back to back forearms to the face. Before Aidan can swing with a third forearm, Zelda reaches forward with both arms and locks her hands around Aidan’s head. She then steps out of the corner and spins around, slamming Aidan against the turnbuckle.

Zelda then unloads with a series of her own punches, planting her fists into Aidan’s body, slowly working her down and knocking her breath away. After landing half a dozen punches to Aidan’s body, Zelda then finishes off her combo with a swift uppercut, sending Aidan’s head backwards and slamming against the top padding of the corner. With Aidan in a slight daze, Zelda then jumps up and plants both knees into her chest with a double knee strike, before falling down to the mat.

JOHNSON: ”That was a quick turn around!”

VASSA: ”Aidan had Zelda right where she wanted her but wasn’t able to keep her there for long.”

JOHNSON: ”Zelda turned things around with that vicious combo before making Aidan see stars with that uppercut. That double knee strike just made things worse.”

With Aidan barely holding herself up, Zelda pushes herself up from the mat and climbs to her feet. She then lifts Aidan up and sits her on top of the corner before climbing to the middle rope. Hooking her arm around Aidan’s head, Zelda then grabs the back of her pants before lifting her straight into the air and dropping her to the canvas with a suplex from the top.

VASSA: ”Super-plex!”

After hitting the mat, Zelda rolls in a fluid motion on top of Aidan, mounting herself with Aidan trapped underneath. Zelda then swings down with an elbow strike, connecting with the side of Aidan’s head, slamming it against the mat. Standing to her feet, Zelda then races to the nearby corner and quickly ascends to the top. Once there, she turns back to face Aidan who is still down before pausing for a brief moment. Looking over her shoulder, Zelda soaks in the cheers from the crowd before turning her attention back to the ring.

JOHNSON: ”This might be a little risky.”

VASSA: ”Zelda is taking flight!”

Zelda leaps from the top rope and comes down with her head aimed for Aidan’s. Gaining momentum, Zelda goes for a diving headbutt.

JOHNSON: ”Here comes a hea–“

VASSA: ”NNOOO!!!”

At the last possible moment, Aidan rolls out of the way, leaving Zelda with nothing to break her fall as her head crashes into the canvas.

JOHNSON: ”Zelda misses!”

Pushing herself up, Aidan then looks down at Zelda, curled up on the mat holding her head with both hands. She takes a few short moments to catch her breath before moving in and grabbing onto her head with both hands. Lifting Zelda to her feet, Aidan gets caught off guard as Zelda swats her hands away, breaking her hold. Zelda then locks onto Aidan’s wrist and goes to whip her to the ropes but Aidan reverses the throw and sends Zelda running towards them instead. After hitting the ropes hard, Zelda fires back with a rebound clothesline but misses as Aidan ducks underneath her arm. Zelda continues running towards the opposite ropes and after she rebounds and comes back, Aidan lifts her up into the air, spins her around, and drops her across her knee with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker.

VASSA: ”Bang! Bang! Bang!”

JOHNSON: ”That was a quick series of reversals and misses!”

VASSA: ”it was almost too quick to keep up with but Aidan slowed things down with that tilt-a-whirl backbreaker.”

With Zelda on the ground at her feet, Aidan grabs a handful of hair and pulls her up. She then drags her across the ring before throwing her to the ropes. Hitting the ropes stomach first, Zelda flips over the top and crashes down onto the apron. Aidan then climbs through the ropes and kicks her a few times before reaching down and pulling her up to her feet. Walking Zelda along the apron, Aidan takes her to the corner and slams her into the ringpost. She then lifts Zelda up and sits her on top of the corner, with her back to the ring.

VASSA: ”What’s Aidan up to?”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know but neither are inside of the ropes and the ref has started his count.”

“One!”

With Zelda looking out to the crowd, Aidan steps down onto the steps and makes her way to the bottom one.

“Three!”

Aidan then turns back to face Zelda before leaning forward and planting both hands onto the top step. Hopping, Aidan then lifts herself up with arms and does a hand stand.

“Five!”

Once her feet reach their highest point, Aidan locks them around Zelda’s head. She then pulls Zelda away from the corner with a Frankensteiner, sending her flying through the air and crashing into the steel barricade.

VASSA: ”Holy shit!”

JOHNSON: ”Aidan just took down Zelda with a hand stand Frankensteiner from the top of the corner!”

“Seven!”

With Zelda balled up by the corner, Aidan quickly gets back to her feet and then rolls into the ring only for a short moment before rolling back out and restarting the refs count.

“One!”

Aidan makes her way towards Zelda, who is down and barely moving by the barricade.

“Two!”

Climbing over the barricade, Aidan stands with the fans only to then reach over and grabs Zelda by the head with both hands. Pulling Zelda up to her feet, Aidan turns her around to face her back.

“Four!”

Locking in an inverted headlock, Aidan then drops down to her knees, bringing Zelda down and crushing her back across the top of the barricade.

VASSA: ”Jesus Christ! This isn’t an extreme rules match!”

JOHNSON: ”She isn’t using any weapons either, she’s just using what’s around her which is technically legal.”

“Six!”

Hopping back over the barricade, Aidan then drags Zelda to the side of the ring before pulling her up. She then rolls her underneath the bottom rope and into the ring.

“Eight!”

Aidan then rolls back into the ring and the ref stops his count.

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know how much more Zelda can take. Aidan is destroying her at this point.”

VASSA: ”It seems that something has lit a fire underneath Aidan’s ass and unfortunately it wasn’t me!”

Back on her feet, Aidan then lifts Zelda up and turns her around. Placing her hands under Zelda’s arms, Aidan squats and then bursts upward, lifting Zelda into the air and holding her up in a crucifix position. After holding her up for a few moments, Aidan then drops Zelda spine first across her knee with a front crucifix backbreaker.

JOHNSON: ”Queen’s Cross!”

VASSA: ”This one is in the books!”

With Zelda down at her feet, Aidan looks at her for a few moments before going for the pin. She then grabs ahold of Zelda’s legs and locks her arms into them before turning Zelda over and sitting on her back, locking in a cloverleaf.

JOHNSON: ”Talk about adding insult to injury!”

VASSA: ”Who the hell pissed Aidan off?!”

In an instant, Zelda quickly begins to slap the mat violently, giving the ref the signal that she has given up.

JOHNSON: ”That’s it! Zelda is tapping!”

VASSA: ”That didn’t take long.”

JOHNSON: ”It didn’t, Vinny, not long at all. It really wasn’t even necessary as AIdan could have pinned her after the Queen’s Cross.”

The ref then calls for the bell as Aidan releases her hold and stands to her feet.

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

Stepping beside Aidan, the official then raises her arm into the air as “Immortalized” hits the speakers.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by submission, AIDAN CCAARRLLIISSLLEE!!!”

Aidan pulls her arm away from the referee and stalks over to the side of the ring. She leans through the ropes toward the timekeeper’s area and demands that someone hand her the Tag Team Title. The official is already trying to intervene as Aidan takes the belt and turns back toward where Zelda Orion is still laying on the canvas. The music then stops instantly.

JOHNSON: “What is Aidan doing?”

VASSA: “I think she’s following through on what she said she was going to do to her opponent…”

JOHNSON: “Bryan Williams was right, this kind of unsportsmanlike display isn’t necessary!”

Stepping past the Ref where he is still waving his arms and trying to change her mind, Aidan reaches down and grabs a handful of Orion’s hair, cranking her head back. She holds the Championship in front of Zelda’s face, screaming at her.

CARLISLE: “How bad do you want this, huh?! I told you that you were never going to hold it!”

Carlisle draws her arm back as far as possible, preparing to drive it into the face of Zelda Orion. Just as her arm starts to move “Days of Revenge” fills the arena. Bryan Williams appears on the stage, running down the ramp! Williams slides under the bottom rope and to his feet right next to his partner and her fallen opponent. The two exchange a few heated words as the referee once again tries to intervene, but can’t get between any of the three. Suddenly Bryan reaches out and snatches the belt out of Aidan’s hand!

VASSA: “Bryan Williams just took Aidan’s half of the Tag Team Championships from her! He’s got the other one around his waist. Now he has both!”

JOHNSON: “Maybe he’s going to find a new partner after that implosion earlier?”

VASSA: “Who else would he team with? Aidan got him through the tournament!”

JOHNSON: “They got through together, Vinnie.”

Finally letting go of Zelda’s hair, Aidan shoves Bryan hard with both hands, demanding her Title back. The Tag Team Champions continue to yell at one another as the official checks on Zelda Orion, each gesturing and pointing accusingly at one another as they argue. Williams shoves Aidan away while the Ref helps Orion get to her feet.

Bryan turns away from his partner, who looks enraged as he turns his back on her. Aidan pushes both hands into her brown hair, curling them into fists. Williams looks down at the belt in his hands, shaking his head. Without warning he steps forward and drives it right into the face of… Zelda Orion?!?!!!

JOHNSON: “What?!”

Orion goes down hard, showing no signs of movement as the referee checks on her. Bryan and Aidan continue to glare at one another for several long moments. Finally, the break into simultaneous smiles. Carlisle reaches out to take her Title back and both Bryan and Aidan raise the Tag Team Championships over their heads as they circle the ring.

Fade to the back of the United Center, no wait scratch that, cut to the merchandise area which the fans can access during Adrenaline and buy their favorite merchandise from their favorite Adrenaline superstars. There are a couple of organized lines outside a particular stand which is selling out some the goods, like some foam fingers, t-shirts, and posters — thankfully, nobody wears and attempts to sell a headband. The next person steps up in the line, he pops down the hood covering his head up and it is none other than FATE roster member Brody Lee Prince. Most of the people do not seem to notice him as he begins to point at various objects on the kiosk.

PRINCE: “Hey, got any stuff for the Fate roster?”

PEDDLER: “Nope, we only have Adrenaline merchandise.”

PRINCE: “Well that sucks. Okay, well let me get a Drew Stevenson #1 foam finger, an Unstable tee shirt, a Lord Raab mask, one of those Dakota Smith missing posters, and a Felicity Banks mug.”

PEDDLER: “That’s a lot of stuff there, you must be one heck of a fan.”

PRINCE: “Nah… I just have to take a really big dump and need something to wipe my ass with.”

PEDDLER: “Wait, you’re… you’re…”

Brody Lee gathers up the objects he has purchased and then in an epic moment he places back on his black Stetson hat, but before walking off he turns back to the merchandise peddler and smirks.

PRINCE: “Damn right!”

The camera continues to follow Brody Lee as he marches through the fans, a couple recognizing who he is, and into one of the secure locations of the United Center using only a nod of his head to get past any form of security detail. A couple of doors later and Brody Lee finds himself in one of the lower penthouse boxes of the UC, the door he finds has a sign on the door that reads “Authorized Personnel Only” he swings the door open and walks into the lounge area of the box where he tosses down the merchandise in his hands. Just then Perry Wallace peaks his head around the corner with a confused look on his face. Perry has an even more confused look on his face as Brody Lee unzips his jeans, the camera is only pointing above Brody Lee’s waist as he turns and aims towards the merchandise.

PRINCE: “Hey boss… nice box. Mind if I… oh wait, never mind, I was a little too full to start and can’t hold out.”

WALLACE: ”What the fuck?!”

Wallace shakes his head, shocked at the sight.

WALLACE: ”God damnit, Brody… SECURITY!!!”

PRINCE: “Can’t stop the stream now brother!”

JOHNSON: ”Tonight has been exciting to say the least! We’ve seen some outstanding competition and the night isn’t over..”

VASSA: ”I cannot wait to see Chris Madison and Felicity Banks! How crazy is that match?”

”Blackened” by: Metallica plays as Frankie Morrison appears out from the back. With him is a sack sagging heavy with something inside it. He stands at the stage as Fans boo him for his alliance with Unstable as of late.

VASSA: ”Ohhh ohhh ohhh could we be getting Morrison on the microphone here?”

The live audience pops some as CJ O’Donnell, Chris Madison step out from the back. Trailing them comes XTV Champion, Jason Cashe and Fate Champion, Niobe Martin. The entire 4CW Brand of Unstable is out on stage and the crowd is part furious and part popping with cheer as the entire Unit heads to the ring with Morrison leading them to the ring.

VASSA: ”Everyone is here! Look, Look I’ve got goosebumps!”

JOHNSON: ”This is a scary batch of talent united under the same banner and that banner is Unstable. What do they have planned for tonight and MY question is what’s in the bag Morrison is towing?”

O’Donnell pops up on the apron of the ring as Morrison rounds the ring and heads up the steel stairs. Chris Madison simply rolls under the bottom ropes to enter the ring. Niobe climbs the stairs after Morrison as Cashe hops up and stands next to CJ on the ring apron. CJ enters the ring, dipping through the ropes and Cashe holds the ropes down for Niobe to enter before he follows suit. A ring crew member reaches up from outside the ring and hands Frankie Morrison a microphone. The former GM of 4CW moves to the center of the ring as Unstable collects themselves around the ring.

MORRISON: ”Now tonight has been a typical night for 4CW, great matches, some outstanding talent…Most of which are standing inside this ring with me now.”

The roar of boos for the arrogance of Morrison and his promoting of Unstable cause him to lower the microphone until they calm down. As they hush, he puts the microphone up once more and continues.

MORRISON: ”But as typical as the night might have been, Unstable has something to reveal to you all..”

Putting the microphone under his armpit, Frankie Morrison lifts the bag in his possession and opens it up. He reaches deep down inside, Cashe steps over to help him out and takes the bag from him as Morrison pulls out it’s contents and holds it high up by it’s strap.

JOHNSON: ”Holy Shit! That’s the 4CW Championship!! Are they? Did they? I’m stunned…”

VASSA: ”ALRIGHT! Dakota is the newest member! The kidnapping was just an initiation!”

The fans are livid. Many ideas and thoughts building up in the crowd and those watching at home as Morrison places the belt over his shoulder and regains the microphone to his mouth.

MORRISON: ”Unstable did this! Unstable took it upon themselves to grab hold of the most violent man on the roster which “most violent” is…Debatable..”

Quickly, Morrison looks back at Cashe who pats the XTV Title around his waist.

MORRISON: ”The fact is that Dakota Smith is no longer able to defend this Crown.”

Again another round of boos thundering from the crowd as they begin to get restless and antsy. A few pieces of garbage is thrown into the ring as the Spokesperson for Unstable in 4CW moves onto the point of them being out there.

MORRISON: ”Where he is? How is he doing? These questions are of no real concern at this time. What is of concern is this Championship. Who can truly carry it the way that it has been carried only by ONE man in this Company’s History?”

Taking a bow, Jason Cashe hears another loud boo from the crowd but accepts it like it was a cheer. Niobe lets her hand glide down his back as she stands next to him. CJ and Madison clap for their stablemate.

MORRISON: ”All of the men and women in this ring are MORE than capable of holding this Championship. When I helped build the foundation of 4CW, this Title stood for greatness, the prestige that this company was going to have and has achieved on a certain level but yet anyone not named Jason Cashe has slipped up. So we are asking Perry Wallace to come out here so we can talk about some things..”

Letting the mic fall, Morrison is quick to pull it back up showing he forgot to add in something important to his request.

MORRISON: ”Perry I know you’re scared. That’s ok, be scared. Bring some backup if that helps you feel safe but DO NOT send this new General Manager out here because I cannot promise you won’t need a new one if he comes out here instead of you…Come on Perry, bring your ass out here if you don’t want another Championship shredded in pieces..”

Excitement fills Cashe’s face at the thought. Both Madison and CJ shake their heads at their wild partner but all of them turn to face the ring. Only briefly does a silence fill the arena before Perry Wallace’s music plays and the CEO of 4CW comes out from the back carrying a mic.

WALLACE: ”What the fuck!? What gives any of you the right to just go around dismantling Championships and Champions? I want that Title and I want it now!!”

CJ O’Donnell sits on the middle rope, holding the ropes open as he waves to Wallace, inviting him to come down to the ring but the CEO remains on stage.

MORRISON: ”There is an old saying, it goes: Want in One Hand, Shit in the Other and see which one fills up first. You want this back? Bring an army and come get it because I can hand it off to any of these people right here and you’d have a hard time finding ANYONE to take it from them. Banks? Please, watch later tonight and see how well Felicity fairs up against Chris Madison. Who else? Riddle? Aidan? Someone from Fate? Are you going to bring Roxi Johnson back?”

Stomping his feet, Perry Wallace grows with frustration on stage. Morrison being a fair man, holds up a hand and gives Wallace a better option.

MORRISON: ”Tell you what…I know for a fact that nobody in this ring WANTS this belt without earning it. You see Unstable isn’t about cheating their way to the top, why cheat when we are capable of just being better than everyone else? So if you come down to this ring…I will hand you the 4CW Championship!”

The fans love that option and cheer for it as Wallace looks unsure of the offer.

JOHNSON: ”Oh that’s a load of crap, I don’t buy that at all!”

VASSA: ”Shut up! Unstable is an Honest bunch!”

Hesitating to head to the ring, Wallace doesn’t move off the stage. Instead he turns to the entrance and waves for some assistance. The crowd erupts as Bronx Valescence comes out with a Lead Pipe in hand as he stands next to his Father.

JOHNSON: ”Here is Bronx and he has an equalizer!”

In the ring, Unstable seems to be getting riled up. Cashe rushes the ropes and screams out at the Father and Son duo on Stage. CJ paces the ring hoping for a fight as Chris Madison stands there staring in a cold stare. Niobe unbuckles her Fate Championship just in case. Frankie Morrison raises a hand to calm down the anticipation.

MORRISON: ”Now, now…We understand the fear you must have Wallace to come and enter the ring with us alone. We welcome you bringing a friend with you, hell bring a few more if you got them but one small action can lead to a horrifying scene. Remember that before you step foot in this ring with whoever you want to bring with you..”

Wallace and Bronx “pow wow” on stage, talking amongst themselves to game plan. After they break huddle, Wallace leads the way still hesitant but steadily he makes his way to ringside with Bronx at his side.

MORRISON: ”This doesn’t have to end in bloodshed or broken spirits! Unstable only wants someone worthy to hold this Title and Dakota wasn’t that at all so we removed him. This isn’t personal to you in that choice, it was just an act that needed to be acted upon! This is yours…come in here and I will give it to you, straight up!”

Climbing the steel stairs, Wallace gets up on the ring apron but doesn’t enter the ring. Bronx still standing on the stairs awaits Wallace to decide what he wants to do. With the fans cheering Wallace on, chanting “GET THAT BELT” Perry Wallace takes a deep breath and enters the ring. Bronx V is quick to enter behind him and the tensions begin to rise but get sliced as Jason Cashe with his XTV Title still around his waist rushes at Wallace and Bronx.

”AHHHHHH!!!”

Being a good son, Bronx V shoves Wallace out of the way as Cashe comes in hot and crashes into Bronx, the both of them tumbling back over the ropes, hitting the ring apron before flopping to the ringside floors. Everyone in the ring didn’t expect that but Wallace slowly turns back to the remainder of Unstable still in the ring. Frankie Morrison slowly breaks with a smile on his face.

MORRISON: ”Seems our Wild and Foul Brother decided to jump start the activities…”

Suddenly the members of Unstable begin to surround Perry Wallace as he sits in the corner with the turnbuckles to his back. CJ on one side, Madison on the other and Niobe coming at him dead on. His face full of concern, fear as he trembles with nerves.

JOHNSON: ”Uh Oh! Unstable is going to do a number on the Owner of 4CW…Where are his sons? Where is the roster who he employs? This is trash! Just wrong!”

“Anarchy in the U.K.” by Sex Pistols blares and the entire place goes Bananas as Cyrus Riddle rushes out from the back! Fans are going wild with cheers, the place is deafening as he flies to the ring with a Steel Chair in hand.

VASSA: ”Blasted! Damnit Riddle, mind your own business!!”

JOHNSON: ”It’s about time SOMEONE comes to Wallace’s aid! Get em Riddle!!”

As Riddle hits the ring, Cashe is launching Bronx shoulder first into the ring barrier. Riddle slides in the ring and every member of Unstable scatter, backing away as he rises with the chair in hand. Wallace feeling a bit more safe comes out of the corner, Riddle spins around..

CRACK!!!

The steel chair wraps over Wallace’s head, he stands wobbly for a moment before collapsing like a bag of bricks. The crowd turns from cheers to a long gasp followed by silence and then boos begin to the rain down as CJ O’Donnell rushes up and tackles into Riddle with celebration.

JOHNSON: ”What the HELL!? What the Hell just happened!? Cyrus Riddle…Riddle..he…just…”

VASSA: ”He just laid Perry Wallace the fuck OUT! Hahaha! Fantastic!”

As Jason Cashe rolls back into the ring, the members of Unstable celebrate their newest member, Cyrus Riddle! CJ raises Riddle’s hand like he has climbed to victory. Cashe being the weirdo, walks Niobe back against the ropes trying to make out and get handsy. Still holding the 4CW Championship, Frankie Morrison turns and hands it to Chris Madison. Madison stares down at it and then steps over to an unconscious Perry Wallace laid out on the canvas. He softly lays the Title across his chest and open hand pats the belt a few times before the group of them continue their celebration. Now 5 members strong in 4CW, 7 altogether.

JOHNSON: ”We’ve got Bronx Valescence outside the ring, laid out against the ring barrier. We’ve got Perry Wallace, the OWNER of 4 Corners Wrestling with a Chair molded over his head and a Championship laid over his chest…”

VASSA: ”And Unstable standing tall now with Cyrus Riddle among their roster…Can they be defeated? You think they need an Announcer? I’d join, call their matches biased as hell. I’m always ready to be apart of a winning team and you suck all day long..”

JOHNSON: ”Oh shut up! This is a terrible landscape if they are here to dominate. The competition needs to step up more than ever!”

Leaving the ring, the members of Unstable head up the ramp. They point and laugh at both Bronx and Wallace. Fans boiling mad and showing it as they send curse words and garbage in the direct of Unstable. They disappear backstage as EMTs head to the ring to check on the CEO.

Heading backstage before the highly anticipated match up between Pride Champion, John Austin and his former team mate and Tag Champion, Drew Stevenson. The crowd is ready for a war but the one man most might assume to be the most invested into the match, we find backstage throwing sour patch kids up into the air and attempting, poorly to catch them in his mouth. Tossing another up as Luiz his bodyguard stands not so far away looking bored, the toss is poor enough that it lands down the front of the dress of an approaching Carmella.

CARMELLA: ”Why does this keep happening!?”

Jett doesn’t even seem to have noticed what happened instead tossing another up in the air as his mother brushes off some of the sugar residue off her chest. This time Jett catches it in his mouth and gives a hardy fist pump.

CARMELLA: ”What are you doing sweetie? You know that John and Drew’s match is coming up right. Should go watch with some of the guy back here.”

JETT: ”No way, they are all mean to me. Besides what does it even matter? I already beat Drew and I already beat John. The belt is pretty much already mine anyways, they are just sort of fighting for pride to see who was the second and third best members of that old group of theirs.”

Jett grabs another out of the bag but before he can toss it up Carmella grabs them and hands them over to Luiz who gladly takes them and reaches in for a handful.

CARMELLA: ”This is an important match and the higher ups are going to want you to watch, I mean Perry wanted me to have you go sit ringside or even on commentary but I talked him out of it.”

JETT: ”It’s in my contract mom, I don’t do commentary because people make fun of my voice. But anyways, it’s not a biggie mom. I’ll watch it later on YouTube or something. That way I can skip the boring parts and stuff. Which let’s be honest, is most of it.”

Carmella lets out a sigh and takes the bag back from Luiz as she is about to walk off. Jett clearly not going to listen to his mother on this one. Before she can get too far however she walks into a rather imposing menacing man, not giant but with a rather all business look to him.

VAUGHN: ”Sorry about that, introducing myself to a few people around here. I’m Jack Vaughn, the new General Manager for Adrenaline.”

This catches Carmella’s attention realizing that this man is a very vital part of her son’s future as she peps up a bit now with a smile.

CARMELLA: ”Pleasure to meet you.”

Carmella puts on her brightest smile, while nudging Jett to get him to stand up and meet the man that will be working around here now. Jett groans and stands up as Jack Vaughn sizes him up a bit.

VAUGHN: ”Jett…I’ve seen your work. You get your head out of those video games and your ass, you may just have a shot to be the future of this company. As long as you actually think before you open your mouth. Be smart. I’ll see you folks around.”

Jett glares at him not ever one for criticism but his mother flashes her pearly whites while grabbing his arm to make sure he doesn’t say anything else. Vaughn walks off now as Jett shakes his head, muttering something under his breath as Carmella shakes her head.

CARMELLA: ”I’m going to go watch the match, Luiz take care of him. If you decide to watch, I’ll be there.”

Jett has meanwhile put the opening to the bag and launched them all down his mouth. The sour patch kids getting the best of him as he starts to struggle as Carmella walks off now to watch the show with the rest of us.

HEADLINE
DREW STEVENSON VS. JOHN AUSTIN

The lights suddenly just shut off consuming the entire arena 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.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Kansas City, Missouri, weighing in at two hundred fifty pounds and standing six feet, two inches tall! He is “Public Enemy Number One”, Drew Stevenson!”

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 the opponent!”

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: ”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.

JOHNSON: ”This is sure to be one hell of a fight. Both of these men are former Gold Standard members and now square off against one another.”

VASSA: ”Drew killed Gold Standard when he left Francis high and dry during their tag championship defense. I don’t know if John is holding a grudge but I guess we’ll find out here shortly.”

JOHNSON: ”Drew has already injured the former 4CW Pride Champion, will he do the same to the current?”

VASSA: ”And John beat the former for the belt so there’s that. I’m sure John wants to rip Drew apart after turning his back on Gold Standard and tonight he’ll have his chance.”

JOHNSON: ”Well let’s just hope that we have a champion that’s able to fight on after tonight’s match with Drew.”

VASSA: ”We can only hope but if Drew steps out of line I’m sure Perry will check his ass back into place.”

JOHNSON: ”Kind of like how he did earlier with Unstable?”

VASSA: ”He was outnumbered and surprised with the turning of Cyrus Riddle! That was out of his hands!”

JOHNSON: ”But he didn’t handle it all too well.”

In the center of the ring, the ref checks with Drew first and receives the nod and then looks to Austin who nods right back at him. Slowly raising his hand into the air, the ref then swings it downward as he signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

As the start of the match sounds, both men step out of their corners and slowly walk towards the center of the ring. Austin bounces back and forth, loose and ready to get down to business. Drew on the other hand, he walks slowly with a look of cockiness on his face and but confidence in his step. Once standing in the center of the ring, the two stand toe to toe, Austin slightly looking down onto Drew with his extra two inches of height advantage. Standing in silence but starring at one another, the crowd begins to grow louder and louder in the background as the anticipation builds.

Catching everyone off guard, Drew extends his hand for a shake. Surprised by the gesture, Austin slowly looks down at Drew’s hand before looking back into Drew’s eyes. Timid at first, Austin then extends his hand but as he does, Drew catches him off guard with a stinging punch to the side of the head with his other hand. Knocking Austin off balance, Drew then unloads with a second punch to the head and then a third, sending Austin stumbling across the ring and slamming into the corner.

Before Austin can regain his composure, Drew then takes off from stand still and charges the corner full speed, nearly taking Austin’s head off with a running clothesline. With the refs view blocked by his body, Drew then locks up with Austin and digs his thumb into Austin’s eye. Ripping his head away from Drew’s clutches, Austin immediately covers his eye with one hand, temporarily blinded from the dirty move. Seeing an opportunity, Drew then kicks Austin in his unguarded mid-section, knocking the air right out from his lungs.

VASSA: ”Well that didn’t take long!”

JOHNSON: ”We all knew he was going to fight dirty soon or later. No need to keep everyone waiting if he’s going to do it.”

VASSA: ”You would think folks would start studying tape on Drew and see these illegal moves coming before he even has the chance to use one.”

Drew then pulls Austin away from the corner and quickly spins him around to lock in an abdominal stretch. With the move fully in tact, Drew then begins to crank down on the pressure, trying to rip Austin’s torso. Putting up a struggle, Austin squirms to break free but doesn’t as the move it just locked in too tightly for him to escape. With the ropes nearby, Austin finally takes notice and begins to reach for them. Drew then applies more pressure and pulls Austin’s body in the opposite direction of the ropes, making the gap larger between them and Austin’s hand.

JOHNSON: ”Drew is doing quite a number on John with that abdominal stretch.”

VASSA: ”John is fighting it, he’s not anywhere close to giving up but if he doesn’t do something quickly, Drew is going to wear him down quite a bit.”

JOHNSON: ”Hold on! John is reaching for the ropes again!”

VASSA: ”Fight through the pain, John!”

JOHNSON: ”His hand is getting closer!”

Reaching as far as he can, Austin tries to grab the top rope but can’t as he’s still a few inches too short on his reach. Drew cranks down with all of his strength, pulling Austin’s body away from the ropes. After a few more moments, pass, Austin then finds a burst of energy and reaches once more, finally grabbing onto the top rope.

VASSA: ”He’s got it, Austin has the ropes!”

As Austin grabs ahold of the top rope, the official quickly makes his way beside Drew and then yells into his ear for him to release the hold. Ignoring the ref, Drew continues to crank down on the pressure despite Austin having his hand locked onto the rope. The ref then taps on Drew’s back, ordering him to release the hold until finally beginning the five count.

“One! … Two! … Three!”

JOHNSON: ”Let him go, Drew! He has the ropes.”

“Four! … Fi–”

Drew then releases the hold before the ref can complete the five count.

JOHNSON: ”FINALLY!!!”

The ref then turns his attention to solely to Drew and begins to argue with him, backing him across the ring. Back stepping, Drew holds both hands in front of him, pleading with the ref and acting as if he did nothing wrong. With a cocky grin on his face, Drew shakes his head back and forth, acting as if the ref were overreacting.

VASSA: ”I swear this guy should be a used car salesman because he sells the ref each and every time he gets caught breaking the rules.”

JOHNSON: ”I wouldn’t say that he’s selling the ref or making a case for himself. He’s allowed a couple of warnings before the official takes matters into his own hands.”

VASSA: ”Not if I was ref! We all know Drew is going to play these games. I’d give him one and only one warning before the start of the match knowing that he’ll take advantage of the rules as they are now.”

JOHNSON: ”Who are you kidding? We both know that you would let him get away with more than he already does.”

VASSA: ”Maybe… it depends on how entertaining it is.”

After hearing an earful from the ref, Drew then steps by him and makes his way towards Austin who is across the ring. While the ref kept Drew occupied, Austin was able to catch his breath and regroup. Seeing Drew making his way towards him, Austin nods his head and then approaches him as well. Meeting in the center of the ring, Drew throws a right hand but doesn’t connect as Austin blocks and counters with a punch to the chops. After stumbling back a couple of steps, Drew then lunges towards Austin but gets lifting off his feet and driven into the canvas with a spinning spinebuster.

Pushing himself up, Austin then delivers a stinging kick to Drew’s back as he rolls over to his side. Austin then turns his attention to Drew’s legs and goes to town with kicks and stomps into his left knee. After pounding it over and over, Austin then lifts Drew’s foot into the air and holds his leg up only to then kick him in the back of the left knee. He then rolls Drew over to his stomach and with his left foot still in his clutches, Austin slowly lifts it into the air, raising his knee up from the mat. After holding it up for a few moments, Austin then throws it down, slamming Drew’s knee into the canvas.

In a world of pain, Drew rolls over to his back before grabbing his knee with both hands. Laughing a bit, Austin then grabs his right leg and holds it up before wrapping it around his and locking in a figure four leg lock, putting the pressure on the left knee that he had been working on. With the figure four fully engaged, Austin then applies tremendous amounts of pressure to that knee, leaving Drew with no where to go and in more pain than he could even imagine. The official then drops down to one knee beside Drew and checks for the submission but gets nothing but foul language in return as Drew refuses to submit.

VASSA: ”Uh-oh! This might be it! John has that figure four locked in and Drew has no where to go and the ropes are too far for him to even attempt to grab to break the hold.”

JOHNSON: ”You’re right, John has Drew right where he wants him. Drew might be in trouble.”

Red in the face, Drew sits up, screaming at the top of his lungs. Shaking his head back and forth, Drew refuses to submit, screaming “no” to the ref each and every time he asks if he wants to submit. Paying no mind, Austin continues cranking down on Drew’s leg, determined to end the match right then and there.

VASSA: ”What th–“

JOHNSON: ”Drew is grabbing the official!”

VASSA: ”What the hell is he doing?!”

Reaching over with both hands, Drew grabs ahold of the refs shirt and clenches tightly. Immediately, the official yells for Drew to release him. Fighting through the pain received from Austin, Drew then pulls the ref inward before throwing him forward and crashing into Austin.

JOHNSON: ”COME ON!!!”

VASSA: ”Drew just threw the ref head first into Austin!”

JOHNSON: ”Talk about cheap!”

VASSA: ”Call it what you will but John let up with the figure four and Drew has escaped!”

With the ref covering Austin, Drew drags himself away from the two, pulling himself backwards while dragging his leg. Austin then pushes the ref off of him, laying him on his back and dazed from the head to head collision. Drew and Austin then slowly get to their feet, both standing at the same time. Holding onto the ropes, Drew uses them to keep the weight off of his leg but has no other choice but to put weight on it as Austin charges towards him.

VASSA: ”Get him John!”

Austin lunges forward and connects with a stiff right hand to the side of Drew’s head, knocking him against the ropes. With Drew slightly bent over, Austin then grabs him by the back of the head and lifts his knee up, driving it upward into Drew’s face and knocking him onto his back. Austin then kicks Drew a few times before reaching down and grabbing onto his head with both hands. He then slowly drags Drew up to his feet and then pulls him away from the ropes, dragging him to the center of the ring. With the ref still down and out of it, Austin delivers a couple of hard punches to Drew’s head, stunning him briefly.

Austin then wraps his arm around Drew’s head and grabs ahold of the back of his pants. With Drew in position for a suplex, Austin goes to lift him up but as he does, Drew pulls his head away, drops down to one knee, and then nails Austin with a low blow. Austin takes a couple of baby steps backwards before dropping down to both knees and then face first to the canvas.

JOHNSON: ”REALLY?!?!”

VASSA: ”John is going to feel that one for a couple of days. I’m expecting him to cough up two nuts right here in the ring.”

JOHNSON: ”The ref is down so Drew can pretty much do whatever he wants to right now. This isn’t good.”

Drew then grabs Austin by the head and pulls him up to his feet before dragging him to the ropes. He then places Austin’s throat onto the top rope and then reaches underneath it with both hands, wrapping them around Austin’s head. Pulling down on Austin’s head, Drew then begins to choke him as the top rope presses onto his throat, blocking him from breathing.

JOHNSON: ”This isn’t right! Someone needs to stop this!”

VASSA: ”The ref is down, what can he do?”

A few moments pass and Austin’s face begins to turn bright red. Meanwhile, the ref begins to slowly get to his feet, but not in a hurry. Austin struggles to break away from Drew’s choke hold on the ropes but just can’t seem to pull away. His fight slowly dies down as his face begins to turn slightly purple.

JOHNSON: ”He’s going to put John to sleep1″

VASSA: ”Hold up! The ref is up!”

Finally up to his feet, the official looks across the ring and spots Drew choking Austin with the top rope. He then rushes over and grabs ahold of Drew’s shoulder with both hands before pulling him away, breaking his hold, and spinning him around.

JOHNSON: ”FINALLY!!!”

VASSA: ”Oh boy does the ref look pissed!”

Drew then yells at the official before stepping towards him and backing him up slowly to the center of the ring. Coming to a stop, the ref stands his ground and the puffs up at Drew, yelling for him to back down. The official then points down at the mat and begins to fuss about Drew placing hands on him but before the argument can get anymore heated, Austin lifts his head up from the top rope.

JOHNSON: ”The ref should disqualify him right now for what he did earlier.”

VASSA: ”I think it’s about to get to that. If not, the ref may throw hands with Drew.”

Angry, the official then looks to the time keeper and raises his arm to signal for the bell…

JOHNSON: ”The ref is calling the match!”

VASSA: ”Here comes Austin!”

Running up behind Drew, Austin grabs him by the back of the pants before dropping down and quickly rolling him up for the pin. The ref then lowers his arm and drops down to both knees for the count.

ONE

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TWO

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THREE!!!

VASSA: ”Holy shit, John surprised him with the quick rollup!”

JOHNSON: ”Right when the ref was about to call for the disqualification, Austin swept in and decided to end the match on his terms.”

VASSA: ”This is unbelievable.”

“Satan’s Sister” hits the speakers as Austin rolls away from Drew and up to his feet. The official then raises his arm into the air, while Drew slowly raises up to both knees, looking on in disappointment.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall, “The Magic Man”, JOHN AAUUSSTTIINN!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Talk about a turn of events! Just when you thought Drew was about to be disqualified, John comes in for the rollup and seals the victory.”

VASSA: ”He didn’t see it coming. Either way he was going to lose this match but he didn’t see that coming.”

JOHNSON: ”Well John Austin pulls off the win over his former Gold Standard brother and proves why he is the 4CW Pride Champion.”

VASSA: ”This is a big win for him as he’ll be defending the championship in two weeks against Jett Wilder at the two year Anniversary Show.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m looking forward to that one as well. We’re going to go backstage momentarily folks, we’ll be right back here at ringside with our main event.”

MAIN EVENT
CHRIS MADISON VS. FELICITY BANKS

JOHNSON: ”It’s main event time!”

VASSA: ”This is going to be a good one!”

JOHNSON: ”For our main event tonight we have the undefeated, Chris Madison taking on the former 4CW Champion, Felicity Banks!”

VASSA: ”I’ve been saying it a lot lately but Chris Madison is on fire! He’s rolling through whatever competition is placed in front of him. This will be a good challenge though.”

JOHNSON: ”It will, Vinny. Felicity scored a win over the 4CW Champion two weeks ago, surprising everyone as she proved that she can defeat Dakota one on one.”

VASSA: ”That was just the beginning of a bad night for Dakota.”

JOHNSON: ”It was but let’s not forget about what happened before he was abducted. Felicity beat the current 4CW Champion. Something like that doesn’t go unnoticed.”

VASSA: ”With Dakota absent for the time being, could Felicity now be known as the one to beat in 4CW?”

JOHNSON: ”She could very well be. That win would set her up for a rematch with the 4CW Champion. But since he’s MIA, I could see her claiming to be the best in 4CW now.”

VASSA: ”This is a big match for both stars tonight. Madison is on a tear, winning every match he’s placed in. A win here tonight could set him up for big things.”

JOHNSON: ”Let’s also not forget that Madison has defeated the current 4CW Pride Champion, John Austin.”

VASSA: ”That was one hell of a match. So basically he’s paving a road for himself. He’s beaten the Pride Champion. If he beats the former 4CW Champion, there’s no denying the man in whatever championship route he pursues.”

JOHNSON: ”I would assume so. But lets not forget what happened earlier tonight with Mr. Wallace and Unstable. If Perry wanted, he could shut down whichever path Madison or the other members pursue.”

VASSA: ”That would just be stupid on his part.”

JOHNSON: ”Stupid maybe, but he can do whatever he wants.”

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.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

“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”… Felicity Banks!

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: ”Both competitors are in the ring and appear to be ready to throw down!”

VASSA: ”This is a big match, there’s no denying that.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s big for either. This match could deci–“

VASSA: ”Madison isn’t waiting!”

Racing out of his corner, Madison rushes past the official and heads straight for Banks. Closing in, he lunges forward with a power punch but misses as she rolls out of the corner and avoids contact. The official then calls for the bell as the match has prematurely started.

DING!!! DING!!!

Popping back to her feet, Banks awaits as Madison turns around in a hurry. She then kicks him in the stomach and follows up by grabbing onto his head with both hands. Banks then drops to the mat and hits Madison with a sit-out jawbreaker, sending him flying backwards and crashing into the corner. Banks then pushes herself up and settles her feet before jumping into the air, spinning around and planting her foot into Madison’s stomach with a spinning kick. With Madison gasping for air, she then clutches onto his head, pulling it down, and begins driving her knees upward into his face over and over.

With Madison stunned, Banks then flips him out of the corner and onto his back with a snapmare. Climbing the corner, she then stands at the top, overlooking the ring and taking a moment before making her next move. Madison slowly climbs to his feet and once he stands, Banks leaps from the top and wraps her legs around his head before flipping him into the corner back first and upside down with a hurricanrana. Pushing herself up to all fours, Banks then drags Madison away from the ropes and quickly makes the cover as the ref sweeps in for the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

JOHNSON: ”He kicked out!”

VASSA: ”Felicity is going for the quick finish here tonight but it’s going to take a lot more than that to put Madison down for the count.”

Not wasting any time, Banks pushes herself up and quickly grabs onto Madison’s head, pulling him up to his knees. She then goes to pull him up to his feet but as she does, Madison wraps his arms around her and lifts her above his head while bursting to his feet. With Banks held over his shoulder, Madison then takes a few fast paced steps forward and then leaps down toward the mat, slamming Banks onto it and driving his shoulder into her stomach. Madison then rotates his body and with Banks held down, he then begins delivering repeated knees into her ribs violently.

Pushing himself away from Banks, Madison stands to his feet, looking down at her with no emotion in his eyes. He then grabs onto her head and jerks her up to her feet before turning her around to face the opposite direction. He then sets her up for a pump handle and then lifts her into the air momentarily before slamming her back down to the mat with excessive force. Looking to the corner, Madison quickly gets up and races over to it, climbing to the top in an instant. Once there, he turns back to face Banks and then leaps straight into the air only to come down hard onto her chest with a double foot stomp.

VASSA: ”It’s not very often that we see Chris get vertical.”

JOHNSON: ”You’re right, Vinny, but when he does, he doesn’t take big risks. He executes quick moves than are proven to wear down the opponent with little to no room for backfire.”

VASSA: ”Either way, I’m just saying that it’s not often we see him flying through the air.”

JOHNSON: ”he really doesn’t have to. He’s a machine on the mat and does a might fine job eliminating his opponents on his feet.”

Madison then drops down and covers Banks as the ref races over for the count.

ONE

.

.

TW… KICKOUT!!!

Popping his head up as Banks kicks out, Madison pushes himself up and pulls her up for the ride. He then locks onto her wrist and whips her to the ropes across the ring. As Banks comes back on the rebound, Madison takes a chance and kicks for her head, but as he does, Banks drops to the canvas and slides underneath. She then pushes herself up and before Madison can turn around to face her, she jumps into the air and hits him in the back of the head with a dropkick. Madison stumbles forward and hits the mat hard.

Back on her feet, Banks slowly stalks Madison, keeping a close eye on him as he slowly pushes himself up from the mat. Once standing and his back to her, she then runs in and jumps into the air, locks her arms around his head and then drops him to the mat with a jumping neckbreaker. With Madison on his back, Banks then rolls over and covers him as the ref drops down for the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

JOHNSON: ”Kickout!”

Banks gets back to her feet, taking no time to argue the count, and then makes her way to the corner and climbs to the top once more. She then squats down and patiently waits as Madison slowly begins to move and push himself up. Just as he stands, she then leaps from the top, spins her body and connects with a spiraling crossbody, wiping Madison out and down to the mat. With momentum on her side, Banks pops to her feet and looks over the electric crowd as everyone in the building stands on their feet, roaring at the top of their lungs.

She then paces around Madison, not taking her eyes off of him as he slowly climbs to his feet. Taking a couple of steps back, she then waits for the opportune time to strike. Looking the opposite way, Madison slowly turns around to face her and as he does, Banks rushes in, jumps into the air, and hooks her arm around his head.

JOHNSON: ”Space Jam DDT!”

VASSA: ”This might be it!”

As Banks begins to fall backwards and pull Madison’s head down with her, their momentum suddenly stops as Madison wraps his arms around her waist, keeping his footing and holding her up before making contact with the mat.

JOHNSON: ”Maybe not!”

VASSA: ”Madison overpowered her and just isn’t going down that easy!”

Using all of his strength, Madison slowly begins to stand straight up, lifting Banks with him. Once standing tall and with Banks in his clutches, Madison then rips his head away from her arm hooked around it. He then drops to a sit-out position while slamming her forward and dropping her to the canvas with a sit-out spinebuster.

VASSA: ”DAMN!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Madison countered the Space jam DDT with a sit-out spinebuster! That was unbelievable!”

VASSA: ”The man is simply a machine, there’s no other way to put it.”

JOHNSON: ”He doesn’t appear big at all but the strength he just showed us was remarkable.”

Rolling around the ring, holding her back, Banks lets out a high pitched grunt as the pain begins to settle in her back. Rolling backwards, Madison pushes himself up in a hand stand variation and then lands on his feet. Releasing a loud battle cry, Madison yells into the air while extending his arms out to the sides. He then locks his sights back on Banks and closes in on her before grabbing a handful of hair with one hand and pulling her up to her feet.

Positioning himself behind Banks, Madison applies a rear waist lock, trapping one of Banks’ hands. He then jerks on her wrist, spinning her around quickly and after she does a complete rotation, Madison spins as well and then hits her in the back of the head with a rolling elbow strike.

JOHNSON: ”Comatosed!”

VASSA: ”English, Steve!”

Wobbling back and forth, Banks then falls forward but as she does, Madison quickly reaches out and grabs her underneath the arm, keeping her from going down to the mat. He then turns her around and slowly walks her towards the ropes, keeping her from falling down to the mat. Once close, Madison then throws her against the ropes and as she bounces off, he lifts her into the air and tosses her above his head. After reaching her peak, Banks then falls down and as she does, Madison leaps upward and grabs her by the back of the head with both hands. The two then fall to the mat and Madison curls his legs, placing his knees between his and Bank’s chest, and as his back hits the mat to stop the momentum, he drives his knee through her chest, sending her flying over to the side and smacking the mat like a sack of rocks.

JOHNSON: ”Chaos Theory!”

VASSA: ”Holy fuck! He’s making sure to finish her off for good!”

With Banks down on her back and out cold, Madison crawls over to her and makes the cover, hooking the leg as the ref slides in for the count.

ONE

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.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”That’s all she wrote!”

JOHNSON: ”Add another name to the list, Chris Madison is still undefeated!”

VASSA: ”This might be one of the toughest challenges he’s had. Banks is a former 4CW Champion and has been hot herself. Tonight, Madison was just the better wrestler.”

JOHNSON: ”We could put these two in multiple matches and the outcome would be different for each and every one of them.”

Madison then stands to his feet as “You Want A Battle? (Here’s A War)” begins to play over the speakers. The ref stands beside him and raises his arm into the air as the fans give mixed reactions, but flood the arena nonetheless.

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

Madison then rips his arm away from the official and walks over to the corner before climbing to the middle rope and looking over the crowd.

POWERS: ”And the winner by pinfall, “Mayhem” CHRIS MMAADDIISSOONN!!!”

As Powers says his last name, Madison roars into the air with his arms extended to his sides.

JOHNSON: ”Chris Madison is on a roll and proving to be the dominant powerhouse of Unstable.”

VASSA: ”I think they’re all powerhouses to be honest. CJ O’Donnell destroyed Kellen Shaw earlier tonight. Cyrus Riddle and Jason Cashe looked to be in cahoots earlier in the opening bout but both men are a serious problem to deal with in the ring.”

JOHNSON: ”None should be taken lightly and Perry Wallace, the owner, found that out for himself earlier tonight.”

VASSA: ”There next few days are going to be fun seeing what Wallace has to say about the events of tonight. I mean who would have thought that Cyrus Riddle would turn on him and align with Unstable? I know I didn’t see it coming.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t think anyone did but they as a team are proving to be a force to be reckoned with in 4CW”

VASSA: ”Who’s going to stop them? We don’t know for certain if they are the one’s who kidnapped Dakota but if they are, his Omerta brother is now aligned with them. The line in the sand has been drawn. Who is going to stand up to Unstable?”

JOHNSON: ”We’ll just have to wait and see in two weeks as we head to Milwaukee, Wisconsin for our two year anniversary show.”

VASSA: ”Two years already? Damn, it seems like a lifetime.”

JOHNSON: ”It’s been one heck of a ride and by the looks of things, it’s going to get even more exciting with things to come.”

VASSA: ”Well, that’s a wrap! Be sure to check out the reply of Wallace getting crushed with that chair shot folks. I know I’ll be watching it over and over for the next few weeks.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s all the time we have for tonight folks. Tune in two weeks from now as we kick off the two year celebration. As for tonight, all good things must come to an end. I’m Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good fight and good night!”

Hopping down from the corner, Madison slowly makes his way across the ring and climbs the opposite one. Standing at the top above everyone else, He then raises both arms into the air as the crowd cheers, but mostly boos him. With a smirk on his face, he wipes the sweat from his forehead before hopping down and turning back to look at Banks one last time. With his eyes locked on her laid out body, the scene slowly comes to an end as the picture fades to black.