The picture opens to a clear shot of Perry Wallace sitting behind a desk with his phone in hand. With his eyes glued on the phone, his thumbs go crazy, bringing a smile to his face.

WALLACE: “Have fun getting in the building tonight. This is going to be a glorious four-twenty without you around screwing things up.”
Tossing his phone onto the desk, Wallace leans back in his seat with a grin from ear to ear, apparently proud of himself. His eyes then shift towards the door that is cracked open.

WALLACE: “Hey, Pinkman! Do me a favor and make sure you guys do not let Cashe in the building tonight. I can’t express how important this is to me.”

Opening to an overhead shot from the rafters of the CFE Arena, our show kicks off to a smaller, but packed crowd in attendance. South Beach Brawl merchandise can be seen scattered throughout the building. Cutting to a shot of the ringside area, the 4CW Hot Shots make their way around the ring, playing to the crowd and hyping them up for tonight’s event. The gentlemen in the crowd flood them with whistles as the ladies show off what they’re working with. In the mix of people, a few signs pop out, more so than others.


Sitting at the announcers booth, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa wait patiently to start the show. Zooming in, the two converse with one another, Johnson sipping on a glass of water and Vassa holding a glass of the usual, whiskey with the bottle out in the open. Noticing the camera, Johnson places his glass down and adjusts his tie before nodding to Vinny.

JOHNSON: “Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to 4CW Adrenaline! I’m your host, Steve Johnson!”
VASSA: “And I’m Vinny Vassa! Happy four-twenty mother fuckers!”
JOHNSON: “It’s just another day, like any other.”
VASSA: “That’s easy for you to say old timer!”
JOHNSON: “So we’re a week away from South Beach Brawl folks and have a little show for tonight to warm the engines up before we kick into overdrive.”
VASSA: “I’m looking forward to Miami and this pit-stop here was well needed. I went to Disney World!”
JOHNSON: “Disney World? How was that?”
VASSA: “It was awesome! South Beach Brawl is going to be the complete opposite though. It’s going to be a madhouse.”
JOHNSON: “Speaking of South beach Brawl, we finally have a challenger for Dakota Smith and the 4CW Championship.”
VASSA: “We do! Jair Hopkins will step to the plate and go head to head with The Butcher in a last man standing match. This thing is going to be brutal.”
JOHNSON: “It’s surely is! The card from top to bottom is stacked but this main event could be something we talk about for many years to come.”
VASSA: “Jair has held the 4CW Championship before. He knows the prestige and responsibility that comes with wearing the crown. He’s going to have his hands full with Dakota but I think he’s looking forward to it and walking straight into the depths of Hell.”
JOHNSON: “This will be Dakota’s first real title defense after that joke at Winter Wasteland and defending against Perry Wallace.”
VASSA: “In his defense, the man just returned after being kidnapped and hidden away like an ugly step-child. There was a person on the card to challenge him. Wallace stepped up and gave him a run for his money.”
JOHNSON: “Are you kidding me? Mr. Wallace didn’t give him a run for his money. He took a dive, even though that wasn’t necessary. Dakota would have killed him in a straight up match.”
VASSA: “You don’t give Wallace enough credit. I think the man could surprise a lot of folks. He pulled off that fine little number he has. The man could be godly in the ring.”
JOHNSON: “I highly doubt that.”
VASSA: “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
JOHNSON: “So, with South Beach Brawl around the corner, we have a small card planned for tonight. We’ll see a few new faces to 4CW debut in the ring, as well as a few who debuted two weeks ago.”
VASSA: “This main event we have is going to be a bloody one too. Nirvana upset the XTV champion two weeks ago and I’m looking forward to seeing where he goes from there.”
JOHNSON: “You and me both, Vinny. This main event should be a great warm up for South Beach Brawl and a big one to end the show for us here tonight.”
VASSA: “Who knows what else will happen tonight. I know there are quite a few people who made it a point to be here tonight. After all, it’s four-twenty and 4CW has always been known to partake in a little toke here and there.”
JOHNSON: “If you say so. Anyway! We will be right back here at ringside after a short break.”

A close up of a Marijuana Joint burning opens up backstage. Jason Cashe is taking in a long drawn hit and Psyche Devyne is next to him as they sit leaned up against a car parked in the parking garage. Moving the joint away from his lips, he holds in the hit trying to pass it to Devyne but she wants it in a more passionate manner. Pulling him in at the back of his head, Psyche presses her lips to his and smoke barrels from his mouth to her. Coughing as their lips break from each other. Cashe grins as she sucks in more air to hold the hit deeper.

CASHE: ”I could just give you a shotgun?”
Starting to turn the burning cherry end of the joint around, Cashe lifts it towards his mouth. Psyche didn’t like the thought of it. Last time he tried, the cherry popped off in his mouth and he shed some tears. She laughed as she exhaled with the thought of him crying in her head. She motions for him to leave it alone.

PSYCHE: ”I like it this way better…”
CASHE: ”You just like kissing me, don’t lie!”
Pulling him closer, she does just that as they lock lips once again. He begins humming, trying to speak but unable due to her being pressed against his mouth. Not that he would ever complain. As she finally lets up, he gasps playing with her like he was in desperate need of oxygen. She hits him in his side.

PSYCHE: ”Shush you! I’m hungry!”
CASHE: ”Wallace won’t let me inside, the fucker! Thinks he can keep me out for the 4/20 Show… I’m getting good and chinese eyed out in the parking lot! It’s 420! Yay!”
PSYCHE: ”I Thought you didn’t celebrate Holidays?”
CASHE: ”I don’t. This isn’t a holiday to me, it’s an excuse to smoke too much for my own good! Want some more?”
He goes to hand it to her again but pulls it in and takes a few puffs off it. Waving off wanting anymore, you could see she was tonguing her mouth trying to remove the cottonmouth effects of smoking weed. She had the munchies as well.

PSYCHE: ”I’m going inside to find food! Wally never said anything about me! Want something?”
CASHE: ”Dang you’re just gonna ditch me huh? Smoke more with me first at least!”
PSYCHE: ”No way! I will starve if I don’t eat now! FOOOOOD!”
Perky, she pops up and leans over to kiss him on the cheek. He leans to receive the kiss and watches her walk off towards the Entrance doors for the main building. They had plans for being in Orlando. Going to see sights, hang out like they had been doing for a while now. He was amazed that he hadn’t gotten on her nerves yet. Eyes firmly placed on her ass as she puts distance between them, Cashe continues smoking on the joint. Another one to be sparked up shortly after.


POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
The sounds of thunder and rain are heard overhead from the speakers, a white flash goes off and flashes of an island during the storm appear on the big screen. “Classical Gas” by Mason Williams begins to play and the island starts getting closer on the screen. Laying in the sand, a treasure chest is seen to be propped open. Another white flash occurs in the building and Xan walks out from behind the curtain.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Wilmington, North Carolina, weighing in at two hundred forty pounds and standing six feet, four inches tall! He is “The Port City Powerhouse”, XAN XXAANNDDEERR!!!”
Flashes of the gold inside the treasure chest are seen on the big screen while Xan starts yelling out his most common phrase, “I’m here to collect the trinkets! I’m here to collect my trinkets!”. He slides into the ring and continues yelling the same phrase as he walks to his corner and awaits the sound of the bell.

POWERS: “And the opponent!”
“Release me”
The two words from the Public Address system in the arena cause the fans in attendance, already on their feet, to react with disdain and unappreciative shouts. Kat Jones, 4CW’s resident, badass Cincinnati native 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 Cincinnati, Ohio, standing five feet, eight inches tall and weighing in at one hundred twenty four pounds, she is the “WildKat”… KAT JJOONNEESS!!!”
“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 ………. arrival.

JOHNSON: “Xan Xander makes his Adrenaline debut on the main card tonight.”
VASSA: “We saw him two weeks ago on the pre-show, which he basically ran over Joseph Sullivan.”
JOHNSON: “So far he has impressed with his short time in 4CW. Tonight he has a real challenge with Kat Jones.”
VASSA: “Kit-Kat is in the house folks! She’s a feisty one and after some of the things Xan has said to her over the last week or so, I can tell that she’s going to be out for blood in this one.”
JOHNSON: “She’s always out to put a hurting on whoever stands across that ring from her. Tonight won’t be any different… well maybe. After some of the things said we may even see a side of Kat we haven’t seen before.”
VASSA: “We saw that sort of in her match with Luke Jones. If she can continue to bring that intensity to the ring she will be a deadly force in action tonight and moving forward.”
Standing in the center of the ring, the official checks with Xan in his corner and quickly gets the nod. Looking across the ring to Kat, she smacks her hands together before holding her arms out to the side. With both wrestlers ready to get down to business, the official throws his arm into the air and signals for the bell.
Before the bell silences, Xan bursts out of his corner and charges across the ring towards Kat. Closing in on her, he throws an overhead club for her head but crashes down on top of the turnbuckle padding as she spins out of the way. Before Xan can turn around, Kat kicks him in the side, crushing his ribs. Grabbing ahold of his shoulder, Kat spins Xan around and then pushes him backwards, slamming him against the corner. Xan bounces off the corner and draws back his right hand but before he can swing forward, Kat hits him across the mouth with a bitch slap.
Rubbing his mouth, Xan smears a trace of blood across his hand, grabbing his attention. Out of nowhere, he lunges forward and plants a stiff right against the side of Kat’s head, knocking her to the mat. Reaching behind him, Xan grabs onto the top ropes and pushes himself up, stepping onto the middle ropes. With Kat still on her back, he leaps away from the corner and comes down with an elbow drop.

VASSA: “Too slow!”
Before Xan can land the elbow drop across Kat’s chest, she rolls out of the way, leaving nothing but canvas to break his fall. Back on her feet, Kat quickly targets his legs with kicks and stomps, mainly to the knee area. She then grabs ahold of his foot, rolling him over to his stomach and then raising it into the air, lifting his entire leg up from the mat. In the blink of an eye, she slams his foot down, driving his knee into the canvas.
Pulling Xan up from the mat, Kat locks onto his wrist and then whips him to the ropes across the ring. Just as he rebounds off the ropes, Kat takes off towards him, leaps into the air and greets him with a dropkick to the chops. Xan stumbles backwards and hits the ropes as Kat pushes herself back up. Stumbling forward, Xan gets taken to the mat, face-first, with a drop toe hold.

JOHNSON: “Xan goes down and gets a mouthful of canvas!”
VASSA: “He clearly has the size advantage over Kat but she has the quickness and if she’s going to take the big man down, she’s going to have to use it.”
JOHNSON: “All she has to do is keep Xan off his feet.”
VASSA: “You and I both know that’s easier said than done.”
On her feet, Kay paces back and forth in the ring, patiently waiting as Xan slowly pushes himself up from the mat. Finally up to one knee, Xan turns his head to the side, getting an up close and personal view of the bottom of Kat’s boot as she hits him with a superkick to the face. Xan falls to his back and she quickly makes the cover as the ref slides in with the count.

Popping his shoulder up from the mat, Xan breaks up the count. Shaking her head in frustration, Kat pushes herself up and grabs his arm, pulling him up from the mat as well. Kat then pulls his head down to her side and applies a side headlock. Cranking down on the pressure, Kat attempts to pop his head like a pimple until a loud eruption of cheers break out near the entrance stage.

VASSA: “Wait a second, I think something is happening.”
JOHNSON: “The fans are cheering at something, but what?”
VASSA: “Cheers? I’m hearing mostly whistles!”
Out from the back, 4CW Hot Shot, Taryn Robinson walks out onto the stage with a microphone in hand. In the ring, Kat continues cranking down on Xan’s head before a soft voice floods the entire arena.

ROBINSON: “Meeeeeeeow…”
Looking up, Kat hears the meow and begins looking around the outside area of the ring.

JOHNSON: “That’s Taryn Robinson, the head 4CW Hot Shot! What is she doing out here?”
VASSA: “I don’t know if you’re deaf but it sounds like she is mewing like a cat.”
JOHNSON: “I heard the meow, but why is she out here in the first place?”
Not seeing anything on the outside of the ring, Kat focuses her attention back to Xan, still cranking down with that side headlock. Taryn still standing at the top of the ramp, looks on for a short moment before proceeding down the ramp.

ROBINSON: “Here kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty…”
Looking up once more, Kat turns her attention up the ramp where Taryn comes into plain sight. Staring at her approaching the ring for a short moment, Kat gives Xan just enough time to break out of the side headlock, pushing her to the ropes across the ring. Hitting the ropes and coming back with speed, Kat gets lifted off her feet and driven into the canvas with sidewalk slam at the hands of Xan.

VASSA: “Whatever Taryn is doing out here, she just distracted Kat long enough for Xan to turn things around.”
JOHNSON: “It’s almost as if Taryn is taunting her.”
VASSA: “I think that’s exactly what she’s doing.”
Finally at ringside, Taryn stands on the outside, keeping a bit of distance between herself and the ring, but eyes locked on Kat in inside the ropes. Back on his feet, Xan grabs a handful of hair and pulls Kat up from the mat. He then kicks her in the stomach and follows up with a quick rake to the eyes, temporarily blinding her. Taking off to the ropes behind Kat, Xan comes back on the rebound, leaping into the air and taking her face-first to the mat with a running bulldog.

ROBINSON: “Keep your head in the game kitty-cat.”
Rolling Kat over to her back, Xan begins stomping on her, focusing on her shoulder to begin with and then transitioning to her head. He then cocks his elbow into the air and drops down, driving it into her chest with an elbow drop. Kat leans up, holding her chest and gasping for air as Xan climbs back to his feet. Turning to the ropes, Xan takes off towards them and comes back full speed, raising his leg into the air and planting his foot into her face, knocking her flat on her back. Turning to the adjacent ropes, Xan takes off and hits them hard, coming back and jumping into the air, hitting Kat with a leg drop across the throat. Making the cover, he then hooks the leg as the official drops in with the count.

VASSA: “Kat with the kickout!”
JOHNSON: “That was a close one but she managed to escape at the last second.”
Standing tall, Xan takes a moment to walk along the edge of the ropes, stalking Kat as she slowly begins to come to and push herself up. Kat raises up to one knee and Xan quickly rushes over and drives his knee into her face with force. Grabbing her by the head, he pulls her up to both feet and then places her head between his legs. Hooking both of her arms with a double underhook, Xan looks over the crowd for a short moment.

JOHNSON: “This isn’t looking good for Kat right now! Xan has her in place for The Port City Powerbomb.”
VASSA: “This is going to hurt!”
ROBINSON: “Daddy’s little girl just can’t hang in the ring anymore.”
Xan then lifts Kat up from her feet and flips her around in mid-air to slam her back down to the mat. Wrapping her legs around Xan’s head, Kat reverses the double underhook powerbomb and flips Xan across the ring with a hurricanrana.

VASSA: “Holy shit, she reversed The Port City Powerbomb!”
JOHNSON: “Out of nowhere Kat catches Xan off guard and throws him across the ring with a hurricanrana!”
The two slowly climb to their feet, Kat standing first. Charging towards Xan, Kat drives her shoulder into his chest, knocking him backwards into the corner. Unloading with fierce chops to the chest, Kat lays hand after hand into his flesh. On the outside, Taryn looks a bit surprised at the turn of events within the ring. Pulling Xan away from the corner and turning him around, Kat climbs up to the middle ropes and locks her arm around his head. Pushing herself away from the corner, Kat spins Xan around and plants his head into the canvas with a tornado DDT.

JOHNSON: “Kat saw an opportunity earlier and she took it. Now the ball is back in her court!”
VASSA: “I don’t think Xan knows where he’s at after that tornado DDT. If she’s going to finish him off now’s the time to do it!”
Kat quickly gets to her feet and locks onto Xan’s head, pulling him up from the mat. Hooking his leg, she lifts him up and drops him to the canvas with a swinging leg-hook fireman’s carry slam.

VASSA: “There it is!”
VASSA: “She’s going for the pin!”
Taryn continues to watch from the outside, with an irritated look on her face, as Kat covers Xan and hooks his leg. The official rushes over from across the ring and slides in for the count.

JOHNSON: “Kat wins it! She pulls off the victory tonight despite the distraction from the outside.”
VASSA: “I don’t know what Taryn is doing out here but there’s something going on between her and Kat I would assume.”
With a look of frustration on her face, Taryn watches from the outside as Kat stands to her feet. Grabbing Kat’s arm, the official raises it into the air as “Asylum” hits the speakers.

POWERS: “Here is your winner by pinfall… KAT JJOONNEESS!!!”
As Kat celebrates inside of the ring, Taryn turns to the fans and begins showing her off her body. Slowly moving her hips from left to right, she begins pulling up her shirt, showing off her midsection, just below her bust. The fans at ringside go wild as Taryn puts on a show, teasing them with her voluptuous figure.

VASSA: “This is what I’m talking about! Take it off!”
JOHNSON: “Calm down Vinny, get ahold of yourself!”
VASSA: “Speak for yourself! She’s putting on a strip tease for us right here at ringside!”
Hearing the loud commotion on the outside, Kat looks on as an annoyed looks comes over her face. Taryn continues showing off for the crowd as they beg for her to remove her top. Walking to the ropes, Kat leans over and begins yelling at the back of Taryn’s head in frustration. Pulling her shirt back down, Taryn slowly turns around to face Kat with a smirk on her face.

JOHNSON: “Whatever Taryn’s intentions are here at ringside, she has Kat’s undivided attention now.”
VASSA: “Maybe we’ll see a strip tease competition between the two.”
JOHNSON: “We both know that won’t happen and if Kat heard you say that, she’d make you eat those words.”
VASSA: “I guess it’s a good thing that Taryn has her attention then, isn’t it?”
The two ladies exchange a few words before Taryn slowly backs away from the ring, raising the mic to her lips.

ROBINSON: “Catch ya later, Kitty-Kat.”
Taryn then turns her back to Kat, making her way up the ramp, leaving her in disgust. Kat keeps her eyes locked on Taryn as she gets further and further up the ramp, ignoring the fact that she just won the match.

JOHNSON: “I don’t know what that was all about but Kat surely didn’t like it.”
VASSA: “She may not have but I did!”
JOHNSON: “Well, we’re going to cut backstage momentarily folks before we jump into out second match of the evening. We’ll be right back!”

Following the conclusion of Xander versus Jones, the backstage cameraman gets a shot of Lyza Reyes in a common yoga move, known as the “tree pose.” Already in her fighting gear, she spends a good amount of time in the pose, not even shaking. With her eyes closed, she easily picks up on the presence several feet from her.

REYES: “So they creep, yeah…”
Her eyes open wide after acknowledging the sneaky cameraman. She lowers her hands, as she disengages from the pose. With both feet planted on the floor, she takes a couple steps back to keep a reasonable amount of distance between her and the camera.

REYES: “No Delaney tonight? Darn! It’s okay, it’s okay. After cutting my promo a few days ago, I realized I had a lot of pent-up frustration. On one side, it’s knowing your worth and abilities; and on the other side, it’s making a believer out of those who are just getting to know you. What can I say? I am seriously humbled – fuckboy and all.
She nods her head slowly.

REYES: “But this doesn’t mean I’m not in control. While Wallace and Co. “call the shots,” they are guided by a voice. Sometimes it’s hard for them to hear it, and sometimes…it’s as loud and clear as day. I have the power to influence, and that I will do. Stay tuned, Lyzanites and everyone else. This is going to be an experience like no other. Promise!
And with that, Lyza brings her left index and middle finger to her lips, then extending her arm forward with the “peace” sign pointing upward. The scene fades, with plenty more to show on Adrenaline.

We cut back to ringside where 4CW Owner, Perry Wallace stands side by side with his significant other, and newly appointed Executive Assistant of 4CW, Kaysie Sherell. On the outside of the ring, only one other familiar face stands on guard, Oswald Pinkman, personal security consultant to Wallace and those close to him. Dressed in a navy blue suit with pinstripes, Wallace stands with Kaysie in total confidence, something that hasn’t been seen from him over the last few months.
The two overlook the crowd, surveying each and every fan in sight. Cutting his eyes to Kaysie, Wallace takes a long look at her from top to bottom as a smile comes to his face. Kaysie’s exuberant smile glistens around the CFE Arena. Kaysie, who is dressed more conservatively than ever seen on 4CW television, has a microphone in hand.

JOHNSON: ”We’re joined here in the ring with 4CW owner, Perry Wallace, and another person we haven’t seen too much of, but someone who Mr. Wallace has grown close to over the last couple of months.”
VASSA: ”I know who she is, that’s Kaysie Sherell. I don’t know what Wallace did to pull that off but I have to give the man props. She is a fox!”
JOHNSON: ”I’m not arguing what you said, yes she is a very pretty young lady, but you say the same thing about any female that enters the ring.”
VASSA: ”You’re damn right I do! Something about this one is different though. She isn’t competing. She just has a mysterious look to her accompanied by a presence that is felt when she walks into a room.”
JOHNSON: ”Even more so than the new 4CW Hot Shots that you haven’t stopped talking about for over two weeks now?”
VASSA: ”Stop trying to set me up for saying something I may regret. Moving on!”
Walking around the ring at a slow pace, Wallace slowly nods his head while looking over the crowd in attendance. Turning his attention to Kaysie, the two lock eyes for a moment before Wallace nods his head one final time, winking at her, and raises the mic to his lips.

WALLACE: ”Orlando… thank you for having us tonight. It’s been a pleasure to come here while on the way down to Miami for South Beach Brawl. I understand that I may not be the most liked person when it comes to you, the fans, but I just want to express my gratitude for everything you all have done. 4CW wouldn’t be where it is today if it wasn’t for you all. I wouldn’t be here, and I sure as shit wouldn’t have a strong woman by my side as I do now.”
Wallace walks to the center of the ring where Kaysie stands and steps beside her. The two look at one another for a short moment in silence before Wallace raises the mic once more.

WALLACE: ”Go ahead and introduce yourself to the people here, Miss Executive Assistant of 4 Corners Wrestling.”
SHERELL: ”Thank you Perr Bear! Ladies and gentleman, for those of you whom live under a rock, my name is Kaysie Sherell. That’s right, I am thee Kaysie Sherell, the new Executive Assistant of 4 Corners Wrestling. Now, I have watched from the rafters for weeks now, it’s about time I have the ability to come to the light!’’
Leaving the fans slightly bewildered by her statement, Sherell begins to walk around the ring. She continues to survey the crowd with a slightly pleased look on her face. Before she stops in the center of the ring again, she speaks.

SHERELL: ”Now, I am going to be in the public eye here in 4CW, so I felt the need to come out here and address not only you fans of 4CW, but every individual in the back. To the talent of 4 Corners Wrestling, this is the dawning of a new era! This is the age of Karry!”
Wallace gives her a puzzled look for a moment before raising the microphone.

WALLACE: ”Karry? What exactly does that mean, doll? Fill everyone in if you don’t mind.”
A smile comes to his face as he lowers the mic and takes a step back, giving the newly appointed First Lady the spotlight. Kaysie lets out a soft chuckle as she looks over at her Perr-Bear.

SHERELL: ”Sweetie, it’s a portmanteau. You know like Brangelina, TomKat, Speidi, Robsten, Vinnifer, you get the point! Every great power couple has a combined name. We are the premiere power players in 4CW now, and I want something to reflect that. Right Perr-Bear? ”
With a grin on his face, Wallace slowly nods in agreement.

WALLACE: ”Oh absolutely, no doubt about that. It’s just nice hearing those things. So, check it out folks. You all thought that I was a pain to deal with, you haven’t seen anything yet. And I’m not saying that she’s a pain by any means, don’t get it twisted. She’s anything but. Right here stands an intelligent, powerful, and attractive woman… by my side. It’s been a long, lonely journey to get where 4CW is today, but those days are over. You see, when this woman speaks, you all listen. When she says jump, you all better follow directions. That goes for anyone out here right now and to everyone in the back. 4CW has had its share of ‘queens’ walk through that curtain but none can hold a candle to Kaysie, the true queen to rule 4CW with me.”
Kaysie places her hand against her chest as she is clearly flattered by his statement.

SHERELL: ”Well, thanks sweets. Now, I really want to be able to address one situation going on around here, is that okay with you?”
WALLACE: ”The floor is all yours. Teach these people a thing or two.”
Kaysie walks over to the ropes and looks directly into the crowd.

SHERELL: ”Unstable, let me tell you something.I think it’s quite laughable that you have attempted to target my dear Perr-bear. This is a notice for all of you, that’s not going to happen anymore.I refuse to let 4 Corners Wrestling become an unsafe working environment at the hands of you. You think you can just put your hands on authority? That’s no longer going to fly. You put your hands on my Perr-Bear or me… there will be serious sanctions.”
Turning his attention to the outside of the ring, Wallace makes eye contact with Pinkman for a brief moment before looking back to the crowd.

WALLACE: ”Not only sanctions but let’s not forget this man outside the ring here is packing heat. Heh… But on a more serious note. The times of worrying about popping my head out into the open, or keeping Kaysie to the confines of an office backstage are long gone. We’re the ones calling the shots from here on out! That’s just a simple truth that you are going to have to accept. I didn’t bring Omerta out here with me to say that either. We come out here alone, backed by no one but standing united in this ring. This is our kingdom!”
Kaysie walks over to Perry with a smile and hugs him. Then, she holds her microphone up once more.

SHERELL: ”With that said, you’re all being put on notice. Now, I am more than sure you all love seeing us out here, but we have a show to get on with!”

As the cameras cut backstage, the cheers grow louder as coming into view was a ‘relaxed’ Jair Hopkins, dressed in all white and black of what was an Adidas jumpstarter suit zip-up jacket hoodie and pants. Taking in the sights and sounds of the hot Orlando crowd, he perused the backstage area with a slow pace until running into Gabriel Hartman. A wide smile spread across his face as he ran down Hopkins, catching up to him.

HARTMAN: “Hopkins…Hopkins, hold up one moment! Was not expecting you here tonight. Thought you would be watching from the couch, resting up for South Beach Brawl?”

Pausing in his walk as he wasn’t really looking to talk or discuss anything. A smile finally rose on Hopkins’s face as he looked at Hartman, dapping him up first and foremost. He then shrugged his shoulders to the question asked.

HOPKINS: “I could’ve stayed in the hotel suite, ate on some fruit, bug the hell outta room service. Sit on the elegant patio and take in the views and just give two ‘sticks’ of what the hell else was going on, BUT I chose to make it my business to come out tonight, take in this HOT crowd in Orlando…”

As Hopkins mentions the audience, he smiled pleasantly as he could hear the excitement of the folks in the CFE Arena. He looked back at Hartman, nodding his head.

HOPKINS: “This is the last, the very last show before South Beach Brawl takes Center Stage. Plus I wanted to come and enjoy the night, worry-free, a smile on my face as I root for my homegirl Lyza Reyes, showing her love and support. I’m just hella-happy to no longer have to worry about a tournament. It’s just down to two bodies, getting primed to claw at it for the strap!”

Hartman nodded his head as he looked to head in that direction with Hopkins.

HARTMAN: “Exactly where I was about to go and ask you Jair … Now that you are the number one contender after winning that tournament by beating Drew Stevenson at Adrenaline 42, how are you going to deal with the Monster himself, the 4CW Champion, Dakota Smith? Do you feel unsure of your chances to take the title away from him?”

Jair ultimately after hearing the question, laughed.

HOPKINS: “Feel unsure? Nahh man. I haven’t felt this good in a while fam. I been on one for the longest. I came back after brief surgery, on time for this tournament. I endured hell just to get to this point. I took shot after shot, even played Chess with Drew before I pawned him good. He said whoever won that match will beat Dakota and well, you lookin at the man who fitting to do just that!”

HOPKINS: “His actions speak louder than his brood words. So far his actions are showing me he ain’t nothing but a bitch-ass champion who can only get the advantage from behind. I’ve shown with my actions, I can do it with hard work and determination. I don’t need to whack-a-mole someone to prove a point. I do that every show, in that ring. All Dakota is doing is keeping that baby warm for me again. I’m about to be Cham–“


HARTMAN: “Holy Shhh—“

And just like that there is your 4CW Champion Dakota Smith, standing over a downed Hopkins who has just taken the 4CW championship directly to the forehead. Dakota stands over Hops for a few moments before violently and viciously starting to stomp the life out of his chest and gut. Like a man trying to snuff out a fire, he stomps and stomps Jair till the number one contender lays there motionless. Dakota then bends over and grabs his limp head by the hair. As he pulls Jair up to his feet he throws down his championship. Dakota then wraps his arms around Jair’s lower back / mid-section and lifts him up in the air so that he is hanging upside down. The butcher takes a few steps so that the 4CW championship is perfectly placed underneath Jair’s head and then he hits the Crown of Gore. As Jair’s head hits the championship his body crumbles and blood starts to flow out of his forehead. Dakota once again clears his throat and spits down on Jair before getting back up to his feet. He then turns his attention over to Hartman and gets a sinister grin on his face.

SMITH: “He’s about to be what? Did you catch that? No…No I’m not quite sure what he was about to say there before his untimely departure. If I had to guess? I would think he was going to say he was about to become the Champion’s new fuck toy! Yeah… That sounds about right doesn’t it?”
Dakota looks back down at Jair and crouches down, examining his South Beach Brawl opponent. He lets out a deep and vile fit of laughter before getting an ear to ear grin.

SMITH: “And thus once again the Mole gets whacked, huh maggot? Never yours Jair…Never…Yours.”
Dakota stands back up to his feet and grabs his championship off of the ground. The butcher gives the camera a little wink before placing the strap over his shoulders and exiting the scene.


POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
“Insurrection” by Lamb of God blasts throughout the arena as Luke Jones steps onto the ramp. The hood from his jacket covers his head as he bobs it with the beat of the music. As the drums kick in Luke throws back his hood and yells loudly pounding his chest. He stands at the top of the ramp for a few seconds before taking off towards the ring.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Lexington, Kentucky, weighing in at two hundred forty five pounds and standing six feet, six inches tall! He is “The Annihilator”, LUKE JJOONNEESS!!!”
Luke slides into the ring and begins bouncing off the ropes, before climbing the turnbuckle and lifting his arm above his head.

POWERS: “And the opponent!”
A black and white video vignette begins rolling on the screens, showing Lyza Reyes dressed as Charlie Chaplin on the moon. There is no dialogue, but simply piano music playing with the pace of the footage. She’s caught in the middle of a tug of war match between a U.S. Spaceman, and a small group of miniature aliens. Before determining which side pulls Lyza once and for all, the venue goes pitch black, and “In Distress” by A$AP Rocky featuring Gesaffelstein begins to play.
“I’m something out this world, nothing like the rest
Nigga, win the fair game, fuck with the best
Just a kid with the grown men, rep to protect
Since it’s so rare so there’s a whole land left in distress.”

POWERS: “Originating from the coordinates of 40.7500° North, and 73.8667° West, it is none other than Lyza Reyes!”
Lyza Reyes walks down the aisle in her gear consisting of a black and gold sequined hoodie, black shorts, and black lace up boots. She tags a few hands of spectators along the way, before entering the ring. The music fades as she does a last second warm up.

VASSA: “We have another exciting one in store for you ladies and gents!”
JOHNSON: “Yes we do! Luke Jones is coming off a tough loss to Brian Hollywood two weeks ago but can really turn things around with a win over Lyza Reyes, who has brought hype along with her since signing with 4CW.”
VASSA: “Luke has had a rocky start here in 4CW but anything can happen in that ring. All it takes is one win to get back on the right track and this could be it for him here tonight.”
JOHNSON: “Let’s not forget that Lyza is coming off a tough loss from two weeks ago as well. She was the last one eliminated in the all ladies over the top rope elimination rumble, but could have easily won the thing.”
VASSA: “It came down to her and 4CW Tag Team Champion, Rorie Steele. Both of these ladies put on one hell of a show for us and you’re right. That rumble literally could have went in eithers favor. It was just Rorie’s night, but could end completely different if booked again that’s for sure.”
JOHNSON: “Lyza doesn’t have to worry about looking over her shoulder tonight as she’ll have only one opponent in the ring. I don’t know who to place my bet on because both are hungry and looking to get their first win in 4CW here tonight.”
Standing in his corner, Luke scans over the crowd before a smile comes to his face at the sight of a fan holding a sign at ringside.


Shaking his head back and forth, Luke turns his attention to the official standing in the center of the ring. He quickly gives the official a thumbs up, signaling that he’s ready for the bell. The official then turns to Lyza who stands in her corner, confident and ready for action. Pointing to the official, she gives him the okay before bouncing back and forth, getting loose before the action begins. With both wrestlers ready to get to it, the official throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.
The bell echoes throughout the arena, grabbing Luke’s attention as he looks up, his eyes slowly shifting from left to right. Lowering his head, he locks eyes with Lyza standing across from him in the opposite corner. Leaving their corners, they approach each other until meeting face to face in the center, Luke clearly having the height advantage over Lyza. Lunging forward with both arms, Luke attempts to grab ahold of Lyza but comes up short as she ducks out of the way and steps in behind him. Turning around in an instant, Luke lunges towards her once more, missing again as she is one step ahead of him. Luke quickly turns to her, throws a fake as it he’s gunning to her left and as she goes right, he delivers a knee to her midsection, forcing her to curl over from the impact.
Listing his left arm into the air, Luke then slams it down across the top of her back, following up with a European uppercut from his right that knocks her backwards in a daze. Before she can get too far out of reach, Luke grabs ahold of her wrist with both hands and then pulls her in, slamming her shoulder against his violently. Lyza drops to her back, crashing against the mat. Jumping into the air, Luke comes down with a double foot stomp, driving both feet down onto her chest. Stepping down onto the mat, Luke then jumps into the air and comes down with an elbow drop.

JOHNSON: “This is go–“
VASSA: “He misses!”
As Luke comes down with the elbow drop, Lyza quickly rolls out of the way, leaving nothing but canvas for his elbow to connect with. Instantly, Luke grabs his elbow with his other hand and holds it against his body, clearly feeling the repercussions of that failed attempt. Not far from him, Lyza rolls in the opposite direction. The two then slowly begin pushing themselves up at the same pace. They both finally stand, looking across the ring at one another. Making the first move, Luke charges towards her and takes a swing for the fences.

JOHNSON: “Swing and a miss!”
Ducking underneath his fist as it passes by over her head, Lyza fires back with a lightning fast jab to the ribs, forcing Luke to buckle to his side. She then follows up with a series of shin kicks and finishes off the combination with a drop kick to the side of Luke’s head, knocking him down to the mat. Luke quickly begins pushing himself up and as he does, Lyza turns to the ropes and takes off towards them. Coming back on the rebound with speed, Lyza raises both hands above her head and then swings down as she closes in, hitting Luke across the back with a running double axe handle and knocking him flat on his stomach.
Refusing to stay down, Luke pushes himself back up in frustration. Standing tall, he locks his eyes on Lyza. Not giving him a moment to prepare, Lyza races in and leaps into the air, catching Luke off guard as she wraps her legs around his head and flips him across the ring with a head scissors takedown. Crashing onto the canvas hard, Luke rolls a few feet before stopping in front of the ropes. Back on her feet, Lyza looks over to Luke with a smile on her face as the sound levels of the crowd begin growing louder and louder. The volume of the electric fans grabs her attention. Lyza then holds her arms up but close to her body, making them appear shorter then they really are. She then begins taking small steps around the ring, imitating some from Jurassic times, drawing laughter from the fans.

VASSA: “No she isn’t!”
JOHNSON: “If I didn’t know any better I would say that she’s pretending to be a T-Rex.”
VASSA: “That’s exactly what she’s doing! She was just giving Luke a hard time earlier in the week joking about his arms.”
JOHNSON: “Well she’s making a joke out of him now with this mockery in the ring.”
VASSA: “I’m loving every bit of it!”
With a smile on her face, Lyza raises both arms by her side and looks into the crowd, enjoying every second of the fans reaction. She then cuts her attention to Luke who is still down by the ropes. Taking off from standstill, she charges towards him and as she closes in, she leaps forward, grabbing ahold of the top rope and pushing herself straight up in the air. With gravity deciding to kick in, Lyza then comes down with a splash across Luke’s body. With his shoulders down on the mat, she goes for the pin as the official races over for the count.

JOHNSON: “He kicks out at the one!”
VASSA: “There’s almost a one hundred pound difference between the two. Lyza is doing her thing but if she’s going to put Luke down I think it’s going to take a little more than that to do so.”
Not wasting a single second, Lyza pushes herself up and grabs Luke’s head with both hands. She rolls him over to his stomach and then pulls him up to one knee before pulling him in closely. Holding his head down, Lyza then begins laying knees into Luke’s face. After hitting him with nearly a dozen, she transitions the attack to punches to the back of his head. Out of nowhere, Luke pops up in a burst of energy, locks his arm around her leg, lifting her high above his head. He then takes a few large steps forward before dropping down and slamming her to the mat, driving his shoulder into her stomach.
Luke then pulls Lyza up to a seated position and hits her in the chops with a European uppercut, sending her to her back. Rolling her over to her stomach, Luke walks around to her head and then reaches down with both arms, wrapping them around her waist. In a show of strength, he then deadlifts her from the canvas and into the air, holding her upright for a moment before slamming her back to the mat with a powerbomb. Dropping down to his knees, Luke then covers her and hooks the leg as the official drops for the count.

VASSA: “Only a two count!”
JOHNSON: “Lyza was putting a hurting on Luke until he came out of nowhere and took her off her feet.”
VASSA: “I guess we could say that he swept her off of her feet?”
JOHNSON: “I wouldn’t exactly call it that.”
VASSA: “Leave it to ‘Fuckboy’ L. Jones!”
Popping his head up, Luke begins yelling at the official about the count, claiming that it was slow. Pushing himself up, Luke backs the official into the corner and continues to argue the count. After a few short moments pass, he turns his attention back to Lyza and slowly walks towards her before transitioning into a light jog and jumping into the air, coming down with a leg drop across her face. Rolling over to all fours and pushing himself up, Luke grabs Lyza by the arm and jerks her to her feet. Keeping his grip firm around her wrist, he then whips her to the ropes with force. As Lyza hits the ropes, Luke takes off towards her and as she comes back from the rebound, he jumps into the air, colliding into her with a Lou Thesz Press that lays her flat on her back.
Popping up to his feet, Luke leaves Lyza with no time to recover. Grabbing her head and arm, he slowly rolls her up and then spins her around, wrapping his arms around her waist. With all of his might, he lifts her off her feet and drives her into the mat with a German suplex, bridging it for the pin as the official runs over for the count.

JOHNSON: “Close but no cigar!”
VASSA: “I’m actually surprised that German suplex didn’t put her away. Luke dropped her pretty hard with that.”
JOHNSON: “It wasn’t quite a full two count but he’s wearing her down by the looks of things.”
Erupting to his feet in a rage, Luke closes in on the official, laying into him with another argument about the count, backing him across the ring and into the corner. The official stands behind his call and argues back at Luke, refusing to be bullied. Focusing all of his attention on the official, Luke pleads his case, growing angrier by the second. Meanwhile, Lyza slowly starts to roll around the mat. Leaning up, she turns her attention to the other side of the ring at the show Luke is putting on. Still groggy from the near pin, she pushes herself up and takes another short moment to regain herself, still unnoticed by Luke with his back turned to her.
After brushing the hair out of her face, Lyza then charges towards Luke, running up behind him and connecting with a spin kick to the ribs. Luke stumbles forward and crashes into the corner as the official barely manages to move out of the way. Jumping into the air, Lyza plants both feet into the back of Luke’s head, knocking him face first into the top of the turnbuckle padding with a dropkick. Luke’s head bounces off the corner and he stumbles backwards in a complete daze, giving Lyza enough time to get back to her feet. Before Luke can shake off the cobwebs, Lyza then moves in and turns her back to him, reaching up with both hands and wrapping them around the back of his head. She then drops down to a seated position, pulling Luke’s chin down onto the top of her head, hitting him with a jawbreaker.

VASSA: “Lyza is back in this thing!”
JOHNSON: “If Luke would pay attention to the actual match and not the official, this never would have happened.”
VASSA: “We both knew this was inevitable given the fact that he’s Luke Jones.”
JOHNSON: “Lyza has rocked his head with a dropkick into the corner and then a jawbreaker but somehow Luke is still up on his feet.”
VASSA: “Barely1 I don’t think he even knows where he is.”
Stumbling back and forth in the center of the ring, Luke still manages to remain on his feet. Rising up, Lyza looks surprised at the sight. She then turns to the ropes behind her and hits them hard. Coming back on the rebound, she closes in on Luke but he manages to lift her up and spin her around but as Lyza’s arm passes the back of Luke’s head, she locks down on it and then drives it into the canvas with a tilt-a-whirl DDT.

JOHNSON: “For a second I thought Luke had something going on there but Lyza turned it into a tilt-a-whirl DDT, or as she likes to call it, The Space Age!”
VASSA: “The name is fitting because it looked like something out of this world!”
With Luke laid out in the center of the ring, Lyza crawls over him and makes the cover as the official slides in with the count.

VASSA: “See ya!”
JOHNSON: “And with that Lyza picks up her first win here in 4CW!”
“In Distress” hits the speakers as Lyza stands to her feet and the official raises her arm into the air.

POWERS: “Here is your winner by pinfall… LYZA RREEYYEESS!!!”

The production cuts backstage and we see the 4CW Pride Champion, Chris Madison standing outside in the parking lot of the CFE Arena. Without a match on the nights card, Madison is leaning against the building dressed in his street clothes with a half smoked cigar in hand. Madison turns his attention to one of the arena’s exit doors as it swings open. Gabriel Hartman passes through and begins to approach Chris Madison.

HARTMAN: “Mind if I get a word with you champ?”
Madison smirks and takes a nice long drag of his cigar. He reaches out, grabbing Hartman by the shirt and pulling him in close. Madison exhales the smoke, blowing it directly into Hartman’s face, sending him into an uncontrollable coughing fit. Madison then shoves Hartman away while releasing his grasp. Hartman staggers away, struggling to get a clean breath as he stumbles back into the arena.

MADISON: “Is it too much to ask for a fucking minute to myself…”
As if on cue, Madison’s attention is drawn by the clicking of a pair of high heeled shoes as they tapped against the pavement. Wearing a eye catching purple dress with the heels to match is the mother of one of Chris Madison’s greatest foes slowly approached.

CARMELLA: “Hi champ, just wanted to stop by and wish you good luck at the upcoming show. I know that my son and you have never seen eye to eye but I think we both can agree that the two of you are the stronger competitors in this match. And that it may be smart to get rid of the other weak links right away, for the fans right?”
Carmella smiles, always one to be very political in her actions something that her son has never quite picked up on.

MADISON: “Just stop…”
Madison shakes his head at Carmella.

MADISON: “This play may work on others but it’s not going to work on me. I get it… Jett’s your son and you’re just doing whatever you can to try and protect the kid. But your son isn’t a little boy anymore. He has to learn that there’s consequences for his actions. He’s been running his mouth for too long to be saved by his mother trying her best at damage control. If you’re looking for a temporary alliance at South Beach Brawl you’re better off trying to rally Seamus and Austin in his corner, it’s the only shot they have at taking this belt from me.”
Carmella seems offended by Madison pointing out what was clearly her agenda, as she looks at him angrily. Madison obviously not worried at all, about her doing any physical damage.

CARMELLA: “That’s not even what I came here for and you know what Chris? I am sick of you and your manager Frankie Morrison running down my son. That last match was a fluke, my son PINNED you. And he can do it again, with or without any help. So you best be ready and make that belt extra shiny because my son is going home with it AGAIN. And frankly I’ll be happy to put you in our rear view mirror.”
Carmella backs away clearly having grown tired of trying to reason with anyone from Unstable namely Madison or Morrison.

CARMELLA: “My son is going to beat you Chris, count on that.”
Carmella turns walking away a site the male viewers will enjoy, Madison with the best view in the house. However he just watches her go shaking his head. Clearly things between Morrison, Madison, and the Wilder’s never going to be mended, but at least settled at South Beach Brawl.

Back out to the parking lot, the cloud was thick. Jason Cashe in a pair of khakis hanging low and a Black Tee a few sizes bigger than he needed was still smoking. A joint stuck on his lips as the cherry burns, he pulls in another inhale. Almost in a dance, more of a shoulder rhythm as he holds up the “U” handsign that represents The Unstable!

CASHE: ”My militant mindset make em hide for cover
Throwin’ up “U” to represent the crew
We the Meanest
But Cleanest Label with ALL the game!
Line em up, Lay em down
Put em all to shame
Folks hate us when we beat them
Their girls want us to eat them
That’s the motherfucking Gang!
You either with that or you ain’t SHIT!
Get down or Lay down!
You better gets yours ‘fore we get ours!
Cause be it One, Two, or all of us…

In his own world, Cashe was on the verge of being TOO High! The clapping the followed startled him, almost causing him to fall as he twirls around looking for the source of clapping. Nobody in sight. From behind comes Erron Wilder who snatches the joint right out of Cashe’s mouth and begins smoking on it himself.

ERRON: ”As awful as your singing might be, you DO represent your crew well Cashe!”
Trying to give Erron the “mean face” Cashe was left looking constipated and fucked up. Reaching over, Cashe wants his joint but Erron Wilder wasn’t giving it back. Continuing to take hits from it, Erron just slowly shook his head at the sight of Cashe.

ERRON: ”You are cloud nine right now aren’t you? Where is..”
Looking around, Erron knew that Cashe didn’t come to the show alone. He hadn’t been alone since things got more serious with Psyche Devyne.

ERRON: ”Where is your Adult Supervision? The ever so beautiful Psyc–”
CASHE: ”You shut your face! I don’t need Supervision, I’m… I’m a grown ass man!”
Looking down at the joint, Erron blows to knock off some extra growth of ashes building on the burning end. Hitting it again, Erron nods as the lung full sits briefly before he exhales..

ERRON: ”This shit is pretty good! But why are you out here? Heh, are you scouting the location where your Boy will have his final appearance?”
Looking around, the connection to what Erron was talking about didn’t hit Cashe right away. As it hit home, he drooled some tsking in response.

CASHE: ”Pssh! Please, CJ is gonna whoop that ass!”
ERRON: ”He’s yet to pin me unlike your opponent right? Laughlin actually BEAT you! Are you toking up one last time before he does it twice?”
CASHE: ”Nope, I got insomnia buddy I won’t sleep like a bomb I won’t creep. I take back my shit at South Beach Brawl. Unstable takes over, opens the eyes of the remaining doubters at South Beach Brawl!”
ERRON: ”Tell me how you really feel Cashe! Get WILD!!”
Amping up the “Troubled1” was easy enough and Erron Wilder wanted to be entertained by this high as fucking space version of Jason Cashe. One we hardly got to ever seen at shows because usually he’s competing and won’t get high until after his matches. Never this high though, the weed was high quality. That much was clear.

CASHE: ”We throwing bombs and you guys in Omerta are on a timer set to expire soon! Ya’ll don’t even know! We have tricks up our sleeve!”
Passing the joint to Cashe, Erron Wilder was trying to be casually about playing friendly. Trying to take advantage of a man too stoned to think outside of the Flintstone mindset Cashe had often. Still he was dumb but not stupid. Snatching up the joint, Cashe’s eyes go big as he takes a hit but stays staring at Erron.

CASHE: ”I ain’t tellin’ you Sheeeet man! What I’ma look like speaking on Unstable business with an Omerta fuck? Heh! Yous a funny looking motherfucker you know?”
ERRON: ”Me?! Hah… Tell me more about your plans for the XTV Title?”
Cashe couldn’t see but Erron could see as Bryan Laughlin appears from the doors entering the Parking Garage. This was Erron trying to get Cashe talking shit within listening distance of his upcoming Championship opponent. Wilder was all smiles as Cashe handed him back the joint. Unstable and Omerta were smoking together yet neither man felt or showed any weirdness from it.

CASHE: ”Fuck Laughlin! That bitch isn’t a big name outside of that one match he won getting the Championship. Fuck his background, fuck his cult AND his Momma while we’re at it! I’m going to lump up his head, give him a soft spot!”
ERRON: ”Ohhh really!?! That’s interesting! Please tell me more!!”
The current XTV Champion approaches from behind Cashe having heard his words. With the Title over his shoulder, Laughlin stares into the eyes of Erron Wilder. The two don’t much like each other but right now the importance was Cashe.

CASHE: ”Red dot on his forehead but this won’t be a “Thank You Verry Much” Quickie Mart! Ohhhh Noooo! This military systems go, blood oozing from many holes. I’m shooting these fists like they are being shot out from a Bow. It’s like this, I’m Feral with an Arrow, Call me Darryl cause I’m leaving this dude Walking… Dead!”
ERRON: ”Ehhhhh… yeaaah!”
Having heard enough, Bryan Laughlin lunges in and clobbers Cashe to the back of the head with the XTV Championship. Falling forward, Cashe slaps into the concrete face planting. Erron hits the joint as he steps back with his free hand held up not being involved in the festivities. Laughlin circles Cashe before squatting down and giving his challenger and former Champion a piece of mind.

LAUGHLIN: ”Smoke your days away Jason… Enjoy your time with your girl. Go for long walks on the beach, kiss her and make sure she knows you care because at South Beach Brawl I might not let you WALK again after. I am someone at least when it comes to you… I’m the guy who took your title and made it mine. I’m also the guy who defended soundly against you. Being frank about it, I’m the guy who has your number Cashe… It’s on my speed dial and that will never change. See you soon “Trouble”…”
Standing tall, Laughlin fixes the Title gripped in his hand to once again lay over his shoulder. Again his eyes glance over and meet with Erron Wilder. The two give a long paused stare before Bryan Laughlin walks away. Erron finishes the joint, flicks it away and short slide paces his way closer to Cashe.

ERRON: ”Got Weed? Let’s see…”
Looking both ways to see who might be watching, he leans down over Cashe. Erron sticks his hands in pockets and finds the baggy Cashe has on him. It has marijuana in it, most of it rolled into joints.

ERRON: ”Yoooooink! I’ll take that, thank ye very much! We really need to stop meeting like this!! On 4/20 no less? Shameful… Toodles buddy!”
Pocketing the bag, Erron Wilder leaves the scene as out from the building comes Psyche Devyne. She sees Erron and shakes her head knowing there was some kind of altercation.

VASSA: “Now it’s time for our main event! We have an extreme rules match between Harley Reigns and Nirvana, two long time veterans of the sport!”
JOHNSON: “These two men have been a part of this industry for many, many years. They’ve worked hard throughout their entire careers and it’s going to be a pleasure to watch these two men rip each other apart here in this ring.”
VASSA: “These two didn’t have many nice things to say about each other over the last couple of weeks.”
JOHNSON: “What do you expect from them? They’re stepping into this ring tonight in an extreme rules match. They aren’t exactly going to hold hands and play nice with each other.”
VASSA: “I wouldn’t want it any other way. These types of matches aren’t for the friendly types. I want to see bloodshed. I want to see carnage inside of those ropes! I want to see so–“
The lights in the arena begin to dim.

JOHNSON: “What the heck?”
The fans in attendance go silent as they await the arrival of something big. Then, with no entrance music or pyro, Nirvana walks from behind the gorilla area curtain.

VASSA: “It’s Nirvana and I think he’s ready to get this party started!”
Nirvana is wearing a white and red mask, white trunks and a pair of basic wrestling boots. Upon his shirt is a 4CW shirt. He’s carrying a full sized Texas flag which he waves back and forth as he makes his way to the ring.

JOHNSON: “He wasn’t scheduled to appear until after Harley.”
VASSA: “Maybe he couldn’t wait any longer. And what the hell is he doing with that flag? This is Florida…”
There’s nothing fancy here. Once inside the ring, Nirvana produces a microphone and a lighter.

NIRVANA: “Before my match starts I want to take another dump on Harley Reigns and his southern pride.”
VASSA: “Ha-Ha! He’s going to drop a deuce here in the ring!”
Nirvana points to the Texas flag at his side.

NIRVANA: “I’m renouncing Texas. I’m sorry, but as long as Texas produces pieces of crap like TEXAS MAN I can’t honestly be proud of my home state. So, as is the tradition of my long bloodline of wrestling villains, I’m setting this god damn flag on fire.”
Nirvana drops the microphone at his feet and flicks the lighter.

JOHNSON: “Oh no, he’s really going to do it!”
VASSA: “There are going to be a lot of angry Texas fans after tonight’s show.”
The flame rises and our… “Hero” brings the flame to the flag. Right before he’s about to set it on fire he pauses and picks the microphone back up.

NIRVANA: “This isn’t right… I’m not following the correct fire safety procedure.”
Nirvana drops everything he’s holding and slides outside of the ring at a leisurely pace. The hardcore behemoth searches under the ring apron for a few minutes until he finds a trashcan. With the trashcan in hand, Nirvana re-enters the ring.

VASSA: “It never ceases to amaze me the things you can find underneath a ring when an extreme rules match is booked.”
JOHNSON: “Usually we have a couple of trashcans full of weapons at ringside but Nirvana came out before they could be set in place.”
By now the fans are either bored or pissed off. Either way, Nirvana is being showered with boos and trash from the audience. He doesn’t seem to care. Nirvana once more brings the lighter to the flag and…

NIRVANA: “WAIT! This still isn’t right!”
AGAIN Nirvana drops the lighter and digs in the back of his tights. He produces a kazoo.

NIRVANA: “NOW this is right!”
Nirvana begins to play taps on the kazoo into the microphone.

VASSA: “I’ve always wanted to learn how to play one of those!”
JOHNSON: “Well if Nirvana is able to later on tonight, maybe he can give you a lesson.”
VASSA: “Nah, I’m good. I don’t have the patience for that nonsense.”
Some of the fans have had enough and turn their backs on Nirvana. When he’s done disgracing Texas, heritage and himself, Nirvana takes the lighter and brings it to the Texas flag. The flag goes up in flames!

JOHNSON: “Your eyes are not playing tricks on you folks. What you are seeing is Nirvana burning the Texas state flag in the middle of the ring.”
VASSA: “Well then, there goes our Texas fan base.”
He watches the flames for a few moments and then tosses the smoldering bits of what used to be his state flag into the garbage can.

NIRVANA: “Now that that’s over with, send TEXAS MAN out here so I can shove him into this trashcan with the rest of the garbage!”
The Midnight King crosses his arms as he is showered with garbage from the fans. His eyes never turn away from the rampway.


JOHNSON: “Nirvana has made quite a statement here tonight ladies and gentlemen. Now let’s see if Harley Reigns will answer…”
The lights dim, and ‘Texas’ by the Charlie Daniels Band begins to erupt throughout the arena.

POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
As the fans cheer uncontrollably, a large shadow comes out onto the ramp wearing a cowboy hat, black leather duster, and holding a baseball bat in his hand. As a huge explosion of pyro goes off, the name, Harley Reigns can be seen on the big screen.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Brownsville, Texas, weighing in at three hundred twenty eight pounds and standing six feet, six inches tall! He is “The Texas Outlaw”, HARLEY RREEIIGGNNSS!!!”
Now, various scenes from Harley’s long career can be seen. Harley then holds his bat high in the air before pointing it directly at Nirvana in the ring. With an angry look on his face, Harley then begins to make his way down to the ring, bat in hand and ready to use it at will.

VASSA: “I don’t think Harley is too pleased with the actions of Nirvana just now.”
JOHNSON: “We’re going to have a brawl on our hands ladies and gentlemen!”
VASSA: “Consider this the warm up brawl before the big brawl at South Beach Brawl, ya’ll!”
Picking the trashcan up, Nirvana flips it upside down and then dumps the smoldering remains onto the canvas. He then stomps the burning bits until the flames die down. Looking up at Harley, Nirvana then hacks up a mouthful of saliva and then spits onto the remains. On the outside of the ring, Harley slams the bat into his palm over and over, harder each time as the anger continues to build. Running forward with the trashcan in both hands, Nirvana slings it over the ropes and directly at Harley. Quick on his feet, Harley draws the bat back and then takes a swing for the fences, knocking the trashcan to the side as it closes in.
Climbing over the ropes, Nirvana drops down to the floor and then charges towards Harley full speed like a bull.
Harley jabs the end of the bat into Nirvana’s stomach, stopping him in his tracks. Stepping in beside Nirvana, Harley pulls the bat against his throat, holding the end with his hand reached around to the other side of his head.
Choking Nirvana, Harley pulls the bat against Nirvana’s throat, cutting off his air supply. Falling backwards, Harley then pulls Nirvana down with him, dropping him to the ramp with a Russian leg sweep.

JOHNSON: “And with that the match has eventually started without both men even being in the ring.”
VASSA: “I didn’t think the ring would contain this one if I’m being honest. These are two very big men and that ring may be a bit too small to contain them both in a match like this.”
Climbing to his feet, Harley still has the bat in hand. Gripping the handle with both hands, he draws back quickly and then swings downward, smacking it across Nirvana’s stomach. Tossing it aside, Harley then grabs Nirvana by the head with both hands and pulls the big man to his feet. Holding onto his head, Harley drags him towards the fans and pulls his head back before slamming it forward, face-first into the steel barricade. Pressing Nirvana’s face onto the top of the barricade, Harley then drags him along the barricade until reaching the end and slinging him head first into the nearby ringside steps.
The steps tumble over to their sides as Nirvana lays across them. The crowd at ringside is fired up with the up close and personal view they’re getting. Harley turns to the fans and gives a few high fives before turning his attention back to Nirvana, still laid out over the steps. Walking over to the mess of steps and body, Harley grabs ahold the back of Nirvana’s mask and pants, lifting him up from the debris. With Nirvana bent over, Harley drags him a few feet away from the ring before running forward with him, throwing him head first into the ring post.
Nirvana’s head bounces off the ring post, standing him straight up. Wobbling back and forth, Nirvana can barely stay on his feet but somehow manages to for a few moments before dropping straight down to a seated position. Harley screams with joy, giving the fans a big “yee-haw” before walking to the edge of the ring and dropping down to one knee. Reaching underneath the apron, he then pulls out a table, dragging it away from the ring before picking it up and standing. With the table in both hands, Harley then props it against the side of the ring.
Looking to his left, he cracks a smile at the sight of Nirvana sitting up in a daze. After walking over to him, Harley grabs ahold of his head with both hands and then pulls him up. Once on his feet, Nirvana catches Harley by surprise with a combination of boxing styled body punches, knocking the breath out of him. Standing straight up, Nirvana then slaps Harley across the chest with a knife edge chop, creating a loud flesh ripping echo that pierces through the cheers of the crowd. Nirvana then follows up with an ear slap to the right side of Harley’s head, then one to the left ear. Lifting Harley up from his feet, Nirvana then carries him to the table and bodyslams him right through it.

JOHNSON: “Harley isn’t a small person by any means and Nirvana just tossed him like a ragdoll.”
VASSA: “That table didn’t stand a chance! Now Harley’s going to have splinters in his ass for the next week.”
JOHNSON: “You sound like you know from experience.”
VASSA: “We’ve seen quite a few people put through tables here at the booth. Plus I may or may not have encountered one in my time on a drunken night.”
JOHNSON: “Maybe you should be a little more careful?”
VASSA: “Maybe you should shut your face!”
Looking down at Harley laid out on a pile of shattered wood, Nirvana reaches behind him and pulls out a pizza cutter from the back of his waistband. Kneeling down over Harley, Nirvana rips the front of his shirt, exposing his chest. Pressing the pizza cutter against Harley’s flesh, Nirvana begins rolling it back and forth, cutting his skin and drawing blood with each slice. He then presses the pizza cutter against Harley’s cheek, dragging it back and forth, opening the cheek up. Blood begins pouring from Harley’s cheek, covering the side of his face. Still not satisfied, Nirvana moves the pizza cutter to Harley’s forehead, rolling it back and forth like a mad man.

VASSA: “Say what you want about me but seeing him use that pizza cutter is making me hungry.”
JOHNSON: “You’re always hungry!”
VASSA: “Shut up, Steve! I can’t help it!”
Looking down at Harley’s face covered entirely in blood, Nirvana begins laughing hysterically before dropping the pizza cutter to the floor. Standing up, he towers over Harley for a moment before reaching down and pulling him up from the bloody debris. Gripping tightly on the back of Harley’s head, Nirvana pulls him away from ringside and begins walking him up the entrance ramp. The fans go wild as the two pass, hoping they would stop and throw down right in front of them. Instead, Nirvana continues to drag Harley up the ramp until finally making it to the stage at the top. The entrance way setup is mostly made of steel tubing, surrounding the curtain. Close by, a camera man moves in for a better shot of the bloodied Harley. Nirvana then goes to whip Harley into the tubing but before he can release, Harley reverses the throw and sends Nirvana crashing face first into the camera.

The camera falls to the floor as Nirvana crashes into it, the cameraman escaping the impact just in time. The camera shot changes from behind Harley, barely able to stand as he is bent over with his hands on his knees, catching his breath. Nirvana slowly begins to push himself up. Wiping the blood from his eyes, Harley then rushes in beside him and reaches down, grabbing the cord of the camera. Wrapping it around both hands, Harley then wraps it around Nirvana’s throat, strangling him with it. Enraged, Nirvana tries to pull the cord from around his throat but can’t create any slack, moving slower and slower as each second passes by. The official checks with Nirvana but gets nothing as the behemoth refuses to give up, continuing to fight through the deadly experience.

JOHNSON: “Harley is choking the life out of Nirvana right here on Adrenaline ladies and gentlemen!”
VASSA: “He needs to clean himself up, he’s covered in blood! You can see a trail from ringside to the top of the ramp.”
JOHNSON: “Nirvana did quite a number on him with that pizza cutter but the tables have turned and Harley is back in control.”
Finding a second wind, Nirvana begins pushing himself up from the floor, wish Harley’s weight on his back, using it as leverage to choke him with the cord. Realizing that Nirvana isn’t going to stay down, Harley loosens up the cord from around his throat, and completely removes it from around him. Nirvana stops at one knee, gasping for air. Meanwhile, Harley walks to the camera and places his foot on it, keeping it from moving as he rips the cord out from it. With the cord wrapped around one hand, Harley then draws back and whips Nirvana across the back with it.
A red welt stretches from top to bottom across Nirvana’s back. Drawing back once more, Harley whips him across the back once more.
Harley then drops the cord to the floor and closes in on Nirvana, pulling him up to his feet. Turning Nirvana around to face him, Harley locks his arm around his head and grabs the back of his pants, lifting him up and flipping him down to his back with a suplex on the metal entrance stage. Crawling over Nirvana, Harley goes for the pin as the official drops down beside them with the count.

VASSA: “He’s only getting a one count!”
JOHNSON: “I’m actually surprised that Nirvana was able to kick out so quickly.”
Pushing himself up from Nirvana, Harley leaves a puddle of blood across his chest. Back on his feet, Harley grabs ahold of Nirvana’s arm and pulls him up from the floor. Putting all of his weight behind him, Harley whips Nirvana through the curtain, throwing him to the floor and into the backstage area. With Nirvana out of the picture, Harley takes a moment to turn to the crowd, playing to them as blood covers the front of his body and entire face. Turning back to the curtain, Harley walks through it as the camera angle changes to a shot from backstage.
A surprised look comes to Harley’s face as Nirvana is nowhere to be found. Scanning the area, Harley scratches his head before walking the hall in search of the behemoth. Spotting something at the corner of the wall leading into a larger open area, Harley slowly walks towards it. A hand print on the wall smeared in blood is what grabs his attention. Stepping out into the open area cautiously, Harley looks in the direction of the hand print.
From behind, Nirvana slams a mop bucket into the back of Harley’s head, knocking him to the floor. Rolling on the floor, Harley holds the back of his head before coming to a stop on his back, looking up as Nirvana is right there, slamming the mop bucket down into his face.
Throwing the mop bucket across the room, Nirvana then begins stomping madly on Harley’s chest. He then pulls him up from the floor and lifts him onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. With Harley tightly secured on his shoulders, Nirvana then begins spinning in circles.

VASSA: “That looks like a fun ride!”
JOHNSON: “If you think so maybe you can ask Nirvana to take you for an airplane spin after the show.”
Nirvana continues with quick revolutions until finally slowing down a bit after the tenth. Still going, he continues to spin, reaching fifteen! Off balance, Nirvana keeps spinning, moving off course as the dizziness begins to kick in. After reaching twenty revolutions, Nirvana launches Harley off of his shoulders, sending him flying through the air and crashing shoulder first onto a water fountain, ripping it cleanly off the wall.
Harley crashes to the floor on top of the water fountain as water begins spraying from the pipes within the wall. With his vision blurry and obviously unclear of where he is, Nirvana wakes off running towards a nearby drink machine, putting his foot straight through the plastic front cover with a big boot.

JOHNSON: “These damages aren’t going to be cheap.”
VASSA: “Oh well, that’s Perry’s problem!”
Nirvana struggles for a moment before finally ripping his foot from the drink machine. Turning to Harley, he slowly limps his way towards him. With the water spraying rapidly and covering the floor, the blood from Harley begins mixing with it, creating a large crimson lake. Dropping down to his knees, Nirvana then makes the cover as the official carefully kneels down, trying not to touch the bloody mess, with the count.

JOHNSON: “Harley with the kick out!”
VASSA: “Jesus! How much punishment can this man endure?!”
Shocked at the kick out, Nirvana shakes his head in disbelief. Pushing himself up from the floor, he stomps on Harley a few more times before latching onto his arm and ripping him up from the floor. Holding Harley’s head with one hand, Nirvana draws back with the other and then clocks him with a powerful right, dropping Harley down to one knee. Pulling Harley back up to both feet, Nirvana holds onto the back of his head and draws back, swinging forward once more with another powerful right hand. Harley stumbles backwards in a daze and before he knows it, Nirvana moves in, lifting him up from the floor and hitting him with an inverted atomic drop. Harley’s body stiffens as he takes baby steps backwards. Rushing towards him, Nirvana nearly takes his head off with a clothesline, falling to one knee himself. Crawling over Harley, Nirvana goes for another pin attempt as the official drops down with the count.

VASSA: “He still won’t lay down!”
JOHNSON: “By the looks of how this is going, one will have to kill the other to put them down for the three count.”
VASSA: “I wouldn’t have it any other way!”
Shaking his head in disbelief once again, Nirvana is even more shocked that Harley was able to kick out of the second attempt. Standing tall, Nirvana stares at the blood mess for a moment before reaching down and pulling him up from the floor. With his grip firm on the back of Harley’s head, Nirvana then drags him through the open area before coming to a lobby or sorts. Across the room, a large table is set up with a buffet of sorts on top of it. By the looks of things, it seems as if they have found the catering setup. Nirvana drags Harley across the room towards the table. A group of backstage personnel scatter as the two cut straight through them. Closing in on the table, Nirvana grabs onto Harley’s head with his other hand and then pulls it back before slamming it forward towards the table.

JOHNSON: “Wait a second!”
Harley plants both hands onto the table, stopping only inches away from his face smashing into the table. He then slams his elbow into the side of Nirvana, breaking his hold on his head. Popping back up, Harley pushes Nirvana a few feet backwards, creating a bit of distance between the two. Nirvana lunges forward with a powerful right but misses as Harley leans out of the way, avoiding the crushing blow. Harley counters with a stiff right to the stomach, followed with a left uppercut underneath the chin. Nirvana’s body straightens up after contact and before he can react, Harley spins around in a circle and connects with a discus punch right between the eyes.
Unable to knock the big man off his feet, Harley lunges forward and grabs him by the head with both hands, slamming him face-first into the table. Pressing Nirvana’s face against the table, Harley then drags him from one end to the other, knocking platters of food onto the floor, leaving nothing but a mess behind. At the end of the table, a large punch bowl sits, full to the top. Harley lifts Nirvana’s head up from the table and then submerges it into the liquid. Nirvana begins moving his body violently, trying to raise his head from the bowl. Liquid splashes everywhere, still leaving enough in the bowl to keep his face covered. Harley then lifts Nirvana’s head up from the bowl and turns it so they’re face to face.

REIGNS: “How do you li–“
Before Harley can finish his question, Nirvana spits a mouthful of punch into his eyes, blinding him for the moment. Harley quickly releases Nirvana’s head and begins sliding his hand across the table, searching for something to use. Grabbing ahold of the punch bowl, Harley swings it up with one hand, shattering it against the side of Nirvana’s head.

VASSA: “Ho-ly shit!”
JOHNSON: “Talk about packing a hefty punch!”
Nirvana places his hand onto the table, holding himself up as blood begins to spot through the mask. Wiping the punch from his eyes, Harley looks at the sight and the broken glass covering the table and floor. He then kicks Nirvana in the ribs, forcing him to buckle over even more. Stepping into Nirvana, Harley lifts him onto his shoulders into a fireman’s carry position.

VASSA: “I think they’re about to make a salad with this assortment of food!”
Harley then rotates his body quickly while lifting Nirvana up from his shoulders and turning his body. Pulling Nirvana down, Harley slams him face-first onto the table, completely disintegrating it with an F5.

JOHNSON: “Harley put him through the table with the Texas Twister!”
VASSA: “And that took everything out of Harley to do it.”
As Nirvana rolls over to his back, Harley’s legs give out from under him and he drops like a sack of bricks to the floor. Crawling over Nirvana, Harley lays across him, almost out of it himself. The official races over, sliding in beside them with the count.

JOHNSON: “Harley Reigns wins it in his 4CW debut!”
VASSA: “Jesus Christ these two men tore each other apart! There’s blood everywhere!”
“Texas” begins playing from inside the arena, echoing through the halls.
The voice of Mike Powers then shouts over an electric crowd with their eyes glued to the big screens.

POWERS: “And the winner, via pin fall… HARLEY RREEIIGGNNSS!!!”
The camera zooms in on the two, Harley laid out over Nirvana on top of a mess of debris and food.

JOHNSON: “These two men literally put each other through hell tonight and it finally comes to an end.”
VASSA: “It looks like a damn food fight took place back there. I’m glad I ate something before the show.”
JOHNSON: “Well that’s all the time we have for tonight folks. Be sure to tune in next week as we head down to Miami for South Beach Brawl.”
VASSA: “Clean up on aisle seven!”
JOHNSON: “We had an exciting night of action for you all tonight and the big show is only a week away. We have four championships on the line and a lot more!”
VASSA: “It’s going to be one huge party and I’m going to get an early start tonight. It’s still four-twenty baby!”
JOHNSON: “From everyone here at 4CW, it’s been our pleasure. I’m Steve Johnson…”
VASSA: “And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good night!”
The camera remains locked on the bloody mess before slowly fading to black, and then transitioning to a promotional video for South Beach Brawl.