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

The lights start to strobe between blue and red as ”Karate” by Babymetal kicks up. Sativa walks out from the back with her handy baseball bat draped across her shoulders. She side steps across the stage playing to the fans and having them boo her in return.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring, hailing from Los Angeles, California, Standing five feet seven inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twenty five pounds, the Deranged Duchess of Wrestling, SAAAAATIIIIVVVVAAAAA NEEEEEVAAAAAEEEEEEHHHH!!!!”

Sativa is followed by Eric Lee. The pair make their way to the ring amid the boos and jeers from the crowd. Sativa skips carefree, smiling the entire way. One fan, leaning over the guardrail, starts jeering at her, trying to get in her face. She pauses for a moment and tilts her head to the side, starring at the fan. She then bursts into laughter in their face and continues to the ring.

She climbs up onto the apron, kneeling in front of the ropes, the bat resting on her outer shoulder. She looks out around the crowd before seductively laying down and rolling into the ring. She pops up to her feet and skips around the ring, pointing out into the crowd and laughing occasionally.

POWERS: “And the opponent, from Skull Valley, Arizona, weighing in at two hundred pounds, ‘The High Priest of Hardcore’, DESTROYER!!!”

The lights cut out and pyro blows up at the entrance ramp as “Search and Destroy” by Iggy and the Stooges blares, Des storming down the aisle with his eyes focused on the ring. He stops at the steps and leaps onto the canvas, tumbling over the top rope and rolling over to the opposite side of the squared circle. He darts up and ascends, stands on the top turnbuckle, and raises his arms in the air, gesturing with his hands for the crowd to bring the noise.

VASSA: “Sativa Nevaeh is back in 4CW folks!”

CASWELL: “Indeed she is, but I don’t see what the big deal is.”

VASSA: “You weren’t around here last year. There’s a lot of bad blood between her and Wallace.”

CASWELL: “That seems par the course for everyone here in 4CW.”

VASSA: “Now that I think about it, you’re absolutely right.”

CASWELL: “I usually am. Look at Destroyer here. I don’t think he’s buying the hype.”

VASSA: “I think it’s more shock than hype.”

CASWELL: “Don’t you ever correct me again.”

VASSA: “Look! Destroyer is coming off a big win two weeks ago over Issac Solo! Issac has been hot since signing with 4CW. That’s a big win right there.”

CASWELL: “If you say so. I think Destroyer wins here tonight based on the fact that his opponent is a female.”

VASSA: “That is sexist!”

Standing in the center of the ring with both wrestlers ready on each side of him, the official throws his hand in the air and signals for the bell.


Hopping out of her corner, Sativa skips along to the center of the ring with a sadistic smile on her face. Stopping in her tracks, she then begins taunting Destroyer as he stands in the corner, agitated with her behavior. Bursting out of his corner, Destroyer charges towards Sativa and takes a swing for the fences. Side stepping him, Sativa dodges the attack and follows up with a swift kick to the back of his knee, forcing his leg to give out from under him as he drops down to his knee.

Locking onto Destroyer’s head, she then begins driving knees upward into his face. After landing half a dozen, she turns to the ropes behind her and takes off. Hitting the ropes hard and coming back on the rebound, she leaps into the air and levels Destroyer with a dropkick to the chops, sending him crashing to his back. On both knees, she grabs ahold of Destroyer’s foot and rolls him over to his stomach before applying an ankle lock.

CASWELL: “What is she doing, giving him a massage?”

VASSA: “That looks like an ankle lock to me.”

The pain becomes apparent by the look on Destroyer’s face as he pushes his upper body up from the canvas. Fighting through it, he begins dragging himself across the ring, pulling Sativa along with him as she keeps the ankle lock applied. Getting closer and closer to the ropes, Destroyer then extends his arm as far as it will reach, coming up short only inches from the ropes.

VASSA: “She stopped him! Now if she can only keep him from grabbing ahold of that rope.”

CASWELL: “I don’t think this massage is going to have a happy ending.”

With one last burst of energy, Destroyer reaches out and this time grabs onto the bottom rope. The official quickly yells for Sativa to release the hold but she ignores him, trying to snap his ankle in half. Giving her another warning and being ignored, the official then begins the five count.

“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Fi–“

VASSA: “She’s going to get herself disqualified!”

At the last split second, Sativa releases the ankle lock, breaking the officials five count. Pushing herself backwards across the ring, she then rises to her feet in the center, laughing at the sight of Destroyer tending to his ankle. Rushing Sativa, the official begins yelling at her with warnings as she laughs it off. As the officials back is turned to Destroyer, Eric Lee reaches inside of the ring and begins hitting him in the head with vicious rights. Grabbing onto Destroyer’s head with both hands, Eric then presses Destroyer’s face into the canvas and drags it back and forth before lifting it up and slamming it back down into the canvas.

CASWELL: “Turn around ref and do your job!”

After getting the point across to Sativa, the official then steps out of the way, opening up a clear path to Destroyer. Walking over without a care in the world, Sativa then grabs onto that same ankle and drags Destroyer to the center of the ring. Slamming his ankle down to the mat, Sativa then jumps straight into the air as high as she can and comes down with a foot stomp to the back of his ankle. Releasing a howling moan from the pain, Destroyer rolls over to his stomach and quickly curls his leg, wrapping his ankle with both hands.

Sativa then steps beside Destroyer’s body and reaches down, slapping him in the side of the head. She then pulls him up to his feet but as she does, Destroyer hits her with an unexpected heart punch, sending her stumbling backwards across the ring before tripping over her feet and crashing to the mat. Shaking his hand after the devastating punch, Destroyer then limps over to Sativa as she lies on the mat, holding her chest and gasping for air. He then pulls her up to her feet and hits her underneath the chin with a European uppercut, popping her head back as her eyes look up to the ceiling above. Turning to the ropes, Destroyer then takes off and comes back on the rebound, leaping into the air and driving Sativa’s face into the canvas with a one-handed bulldog.

VASSA: “I think her makeup is smeared all over the ring after that bulldog.”

CASWELL: “Either that or it’s blood.”

Rolling Sativa over to her back, Destroyer makes the cover as the official sweeps in with the count.





VASSA: “Nope!”

Kicking her feet into the air, Sativa pushes Destroyer off of her, breaking up the pin. Not wasting anytime, he quickly stands to his feet and locks onto her arm, pulling her up as well. Spinning her around, Destroyer applies a full nelson and then lifts her up before dropping her with a sit-out full nelson atomic drop.

CASWELL: “He’s having his way with Sativa right now.”

VASSA: “Chill man, that sounds a little weird, even for me.”

Leaving Sativa down on the mat, Destroyer walks to the ropes and stands with his back turned to the fans and eyes locked on Sativa, waiting for her to get back to her feet. Slowly, she begins pushing herself up but seeing the official close by, she quickly lunges toward him. Grabbing onto the official, Sativa turns his body to where his back is facing Destroyer. Struggling, the official tries to pry himself away but Sativa doesn’t let him go. Running around the ring with a chair in hand, Eric Lee sneaks in behind Destroyer and swings the chair over his head, hitting Destroyer in the back with it as he leans against the ropes.


CASWELL: “Wake up call, Destroyer!”

VASSA: “Eric Lee just destroyed him with that chair.”

Draping his arm over the top rope, Destroyer falls down to one knee. Sliding the chair underneath the ring, Eric Lee then steps away from the apron as Sativa finally releases the official. Rushing by the ref, Sativa charges Destroyer and greets him with a running knee to the face. She then pulls him up to his feet and lays his neck across the top rope before reaching up underneath the top rope and locking onto his head. Pulling down on Destroyer’s head, she then begins choking him with the rope as the official begins his five count.

“One! … Two! … Three! … Fo–“

Pulling his head up from the rope, Destroyer then slams his elbow into Sativa’s stomach, breaking her hold on him. Pushing Sativa away, Destroyer turns her body but after two steps, Sativa then does a backflip and connects with a Pelé Kick. Hitting the ropes and bounding off, Destroyer stumbles forward a few steps and then drops to the mat.

VASSA: “Nerf This! Out of nowhere!”

CASWELL: “After breaking away from the illegal move, I think that’s the last thing Destroyer expected.”

With Destroyer on his back, Sativa climbs the corner to the middle rope with her back turned to Destroyer. Looking over the crowd for a short moment, she then leaps and pushes herself away, twisting in the air and coming down with a Phoenix Splash.

CASWELL: “And there’s the Lead on the Wind!”

VASSA: “She’s hooking the leg!”

Going for the pin, Sativa hooks the leg as the official drops in with the count.








“Karate” by Babymetal hits the speakers as Sativa stands to her feet.


POWERS: “Here is your winner, SATIVA NNEEVVAAEEHH!!!”

Sliding into the ring, Eric Lee pops up to his feet and rushes over to stomp on Destroyer as he’s still down. Joining in on the fun, Sativa begins kicking away at him relentlessly. Both Sativa and Eric ignore the refs pleas to stop as they continue their assault on Destroyer.


Pulling Destroyer up from the mat, Eric holds him in place as Sativa begins hitting him with lefts and rights. Pleased with herself, she then steps aside as Eric drags him to the ropes and then throws Destroyer through them and to the outside.

VASSA: “This is just uncalled for! You aren’t going to get on Perry’s good side acting like this.”

CASWELL: “Something tells me that she doesn’t care.”

VASSA: “You may be right, and yes I know.”

CASWELL: “Love her or hate her, Sativa made a big impact in her 4CW return to the ring tonight.”


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

Already in the ring, Rob Hewitt stands in his corner with his arms crossed, awaiting his opponent. As the opening guitar shred of Motley Crue’s “MF OF The Year” starts to play, Randall Kash walks out in his black hooded robe and mask, his arms outstretched as both a mockery of Christ and a gloat to the fans that he has arrived. He walks to the ring with a confident swagger, still with his arms outstretched, avoiding interaction with the fans.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from the darkest recesses of your mind, weighing in at three hundred seventeen pounds and standing seven feet, three inches tall! He is ‘The Dark Messiah’, RANDALL KKAASSHH!!!”

Once reaching the ring apron, he stands with his back to the ring, and removes the robe and mask, handing it to a ring crew member. As he turns to face the ring, he instructs the referee to have his opponent step back so he can step into the ring. After entering the ring, Randall stands in his corner, eyes locked dead ahead on Rob.

VASSA: “Both of these men are coming off tough losses two weeks ago.”

CASWELL: “Getting into a losing streak can be a tough thing to handle. Luckily for them, only one will suffer that. The question is, which one will it be?”

VASSA: “If I were to judge a book by its cover I’d have to say Randall, and that’s only because he’s a giant.”

CASWELL: “Judging a book by its cover is all you can do. We both know that you can’t read.”

With both men ready in the ring, the official quickly calls for the bell, officially starting the match.


Before the bell silences, Kash shoots out of his corner and begins charging towards Hewitt. Bursting out of his corner, Rob charges Kash as well until the two collide in the center of the ring. Nearly taking Hewitt’s head off, Kash puts Rob flat on his back with a vicious clothesline. Bouncing up from the canvas, Rob gets to his feet. Before he can make a move, Kash swings for his head, connecting with a powerful right.

Locking onto Rob’s wrist with his left hand, Kash then pulls him in and hits him with a short-arm clothesline from his right. Crashing hard to the mat, Rob holds his head with both hands, rolling back and forth. Stepping around Hewitt’s body and standing by his head, Kash then begins stomping wildly onto Hewitt’s head over and over. Rolling Rob over to his back, Kash then stands over him and reaches down, grabbing both of Hewitt’s arms. Pulling Hewitt’s upper body up from the mat, Kash places his foot on the back of Rob’s head and then releases his arms, driving his foot down and planting Rob’s face into the canvas with a curb stomp.

CASWELL: “Randall Kash is going for the kill tonight!”

VASSA: “Rob is a former Fate Champion. I wouldn’t underestimate him.”

CASWELL: “I’m not, but it looks like Randall is trying to bash his skull in.”

Rolling Rob over to his back, Randall then wraps both hands around his throat, lifting Rob up from the mat and holding him as high as his arms will reach. Taking a few steps forward, Kash then slams Rob down to the mat with a sit-out two handed chokeslam. Rolling over Rob, Kash hooks his leg and rests his back across Rob’s body as the official slides in with the count.





VASSA: “Rob kicks out!”

CASWELL: “I didn’t even think he had it in him.”

Pushing himself away from Rob and standing tall, Kash then grabs him by the wrist and pulls him up to his feet. With his grip still tight around Rob’s wrist, Kash then whips him to the furthest corner across the ring. Crashing against the corner hard, Rob’s arms drape over the top ropes, holding himself up. With an evil grin on his face, Kash then takes off and charges towards Rob full speed in the corner. Closing in, Kash lifts his giant foot up from the mat and drives it into Rob’s face with a running big boot in the corner.

CASWELL: “I think we may need the medical team out here, Vin.”

VASSA: “Why’s that?”

CASWELL: “Because Randall just may have broken Rob’s neck!”

Setting his foot back onto the canvas, Kash then pulls Rob away from the corner and drags him to the center of the ring. Applying a front facelock, Kash throws Rob’s arm over his shoulder and then grabs onto the back of his pants. Lifting Rob into the air vertically and upside down, Kash then drops him on his head with a vertical suplex piledriver.

CASWELL: “There it is, ladies and gents, The Amen!”

VASSA: “Oh that’s a wrap! Lights out, Rob!”

Making the cover, Kash goes for the pin as the official drops in beside them for the count.









POWERS: “Here is your winner, RANDALL KKAASSHH!!!”

“MF Of The Year” hits the speakers as Randall stands to his feet. The official then raises his arm into the air for the victory before Randall snatches it away and walks across the ring.

VASSA: “Rob Hewitt made a big return about a month ago but tonight, Randall Kash just destroyed him.”

CASWELL: “Randall ran right through him from start to finish, not even giving Rob a chance for any offense.”

VASSA: “After coming off a loss two weeks ago, this is one HUGE way to turn things around.”

Nothingness. And then, “Bulletproof” by La Roux begins to play.

Been there, done that, messed around

I’m having fun, don’t put me down

I’ll never let you sweep me off my feet

Grainy, blurry footage of a male wrestler leap frogging another wrestler, doing sweet dives and leaping through the air with the greatest of ease play across your screen

I won’t let you in again

The messages I’ve tried to send

My information’s just not going in

Less grainy footage of the same man shows him fighting what looks to be an at least 80 year old grandpa inside of a giant robot’s head floating in space while a dozen other wrestlers sing “The Touch” by Stan Bush

I’m burning bridges shore to shore

I break away from something more

I’m not turned off to love until it’s cheap

Back to grainy shots of the man doing cool looking wrestling moves, suplexes of varying degrees, neat head drops and the like

Been there, done that, messed around

I’m having fun, don’t put me down

I’ll never let you sweep me off my feet

Cleaner footage of the man inside of the same giant robot’s head -this time attached to a body that looks suspiciously like Optimus Prime- fighting Godzilla on the shores of Japan

This time baby,

I’ll be bulletproof

More grainy, blurry footage of the man doing some swank chain-wrestling, with cool pinning combinations

I won’t let you turn around

And tell me now I’m much too proud

To walk away from something when it’s dead

Much cleaner, but still not completely clear footage of our protagonist and two equally awesome other wrestlers fighting off hordes of Totally Real Zombie Clone Wrestlers at what may or may not have been a comic convention they got lost at and stumbled into

Do, do, do your dirty words

Come out to play when you are hurt

There are certain things that should be left unsaid

Blurry shots of our hero holding up various Championships he’s won throughout his career. This probably takes like 15 minutes. There’s a lot. We understand if you fast forwarded this part.

Tick, tick, tick, tick on the watch

And life’s too short for me to stop

Oh, baby, your time is running out

Super clean footage of your eventual champion of everything and one of his equally awesome sidekicks (accidentally) setting fire to an ancient temple in China and being chased out of the town by a hundred screaming, raving monks

I won’t let you turn around

And tell me now I’m much too proud

All you do is fill me up with doubt

There’s no more random footage (thank god) but the music begins to fade out, the last line being sung by a far deeper voice than La Roux

“This time baby,

I’ll be bullllllllleeeeeeett-proooooooooffffff!”

We pan back in real time, to show the newest member of the 4CW roster, Adrian Tanner Junior, standing in front of a giant floating blue-screened silver revolver with “AT” etched on the handle. A wide grin marks his face as the Arizona Assassin makes a gun motion with his hand pointed at you, the viewer. And you, the 4CW Roster.

TANNER: “But you won’t be.”

He ‘fires’ the gun, and the sound of an actual gunshot goes off as the screen shatters into shards, and we cut to black.

The lights start to strobe between blue and red as ”Karate” by Babymetal kicks up. Sativa walks out from the back with her handy baseball bat draped across her shoulders. She side steps across the stage playing to the fans and having them boo her in return.

Sativa is followed by Eric Lee. The pair make their way to the ring amid the boos and jeers from the crowd. Sativa skips carefree, smiling the entire way. One fan, leaning over the guardrail, starts jeering at her, trying to get in her face. She pauses for a moment and tilts her head to the side, starring at the fan. She then bursts into laughter in their face and continues to the ring.

She climbs up onto the apron, kneeling in front of the ropes, the bat resting on her outer shoulder. She looks out around the crowd before seductively laying down and rolling into the ring. She pops up to her feet and skips around the ring, pointing out into the crowd and laughing occasionally. Eric meets her in the middle of the ring bearing a pair of mics.

NEVAEH: “What? Did you expect not to see me more tonight? I mean after Desy got no less than he deserved earlier, I couldn’t stay the fuck away from the camera’s, could I? Deal with it, YOU TWATS!! Now, I am quite sure you are all wondering what the fuck I am doin back in this ring. Well, there were still things left to do here, isn’t there? Jersey was trash so I bailed from there and viola. Here I am to cause havoc and chaos. There are belts I still have to win here. Belts that have a lot more worth and prestige than anything over in Jersey. We all know the obvious choice would be to go for that big belt. The 4CW Championship title. The big kahuna. Depending on how things go at Ante Up I could try and break another record and earn another belt doing so. I have been known to do that in the past.”

She suddenly releases a cough that sound suspiciously like ‘Black Listed.’

LEE: “Speaking of Ante Up, that XTV title is on the line from the start of the show till the start of the main event. You could steal that and walk out of Ante Up a champion. Second event back.”

NEVAEH: “It is isn’t it? That might just have to happen. I could also round out my Pay Per View appearances. Since I was denied being at Ante Up last year. Only one I haven’t been on yet.”

LEE: “Could even be drawn as the person in opening match. Make it be in a match at every Pay per View.”

NEVAEH: “That could happen. But then I would have to watch my back all fucking night. I would rather catch the champion at the last possible moment. That way I don’t gotta worry bout shit until an official match comes up.”

LEE: “That makes sense.”

NEVAEH: “Of course it does! Jeez! Oh and Wallass, don’t think I have forgotten about you. You tubby bitch! I am going to be the biggest thorn in your side. I mean a massive thorn. So big you are gonna think you have been stabbed. It is one of my main goals coming back to make your life a living hell.”

LEE: “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”

NEVAEH: “Welcome to your worst nightmare!”

Sativa and Lee start laughing maniacally. “Karate” by Babymetal starts up again as the two slowly make their way backstage.

“Go potty… right there. Don’t give me that look dog. Poop, piss, something… just hurry up boy!” Panting with his tongue hanging out. The Boston Terrier named Ruthless stares up at his owner, Jason Cashe. Standing in front of the office of Perry Wallace, Cashe is trying to get his dog to go to the bathroom. Gabriel Hartman coming around the corner erupts with shock and excitement as he sets his eyes on Cashe.

HARTMAN: “Jason! This is great, can I get a minute?”

Cashe had no reason to be here tonight and sure as shit didn’t want to answer the questions he knew people wanted better answers too. Having known Gabriel Hartman longer than anyone in 4CW even BEFORE 4CW, Cashe gave the Interviewer his due respect. Ruthless being ever so friendly tries to gain Hartman’s attention but doesn’t receive it.

CASHE: “Sup?”

HARTMAN: “What’s going on Jason? You aren’t booked for Adrenaline. You have a HUGE match against Cyrus Riddle NEXT Week at Ante Up… What purpose do you have here tonight?”

Lifting a finger and his eyebrows. Cashe was freshly trimmed. Scruffy 5 O’Clock Shadow with a beanie pulled tight over his head. Smiling the “Troubled1” points down to his dog.

CASHE: “I think Ruthless wanted to see where his Daddy works. I’m a single Father now you see and I want Ruthless here to find comfort in where I work. Ain’t that right Ruthless?”

The puppy’s tail swings back and forth as he recognizes his name but Ruthless wasn’t paying attention. He started circling to find the right place to drop a load. Cashe smiles, almost proud of his dog as he turns back to Hartman ready for a few questions.

HARTMAN: “You have to tell me! The fans want to know and I’m sure there is a certain Lady who would LOVE to know why. Why did you break up with Psyche Devyne?”

CASHE: “You know Hartman… I’m not gonna stand here and drag anyone through the septic waste even if a few of them deserve just that. I’m in Vegas to get high and have an adventure. That’s what people do after relationships and Alliances fall through right?”

HARTMAN: “Have you talked to Psyc–“

Voices chattering loudly grab their attention as Hartman and Cashe, even Ruthless turns to see the source of the chatting. Multiple people come out from one of the room a little down the hall. On all fours, Ruthless is up and trying to rush off in that direction.

CASHE: “Whoa there Ruthless! You can’t go that way, Wallace is probably in that Meeting too…”

The growing dog wasn’t hearing it as he begins to choke himself pulling at the collar around his neck. Shaking himself, the dog wiggles free and takes off.

CASHE: “Ohh shit! Hey get back here! Gotta go Hartman!!”

Hurrying to try and catch his Dog, Cashe leaves the scene. Gabriel Hartman looks down to watch where he steps as the scene fades.


VASSA: “Up next we have the 4CW in-ring debut of Justin Spirit.”

CASWELL: “Technically he made his 4CW debut in the ring two weeks ago.”

VASSA: “Yeah, but that wasn’t in a match. He just came out and directly called out Perry Wallace, his boss. What an idiot!”

CASWELL: “Earlier in the week Kaiden Hawke called him out on that. I’d look for him to step up for the king and queen here tonight.”

VASSA: “He is their problem solver now, isn’t he?”

CASWELL: “Something like that.”

The guitar chords slam into the speakers in the same instant that white strobe flutters across the dim arena. The crowd shout and call with enough force to equal the blasting music of Trust Co. “Downfall”.

“Fear in me so deep it gets the best of me,

In the fear I fall, here it comes face to face with me,

Here I stand hold back so no one can see,

I feel these wounds, step down, step down,

step down.”

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

The cameras sweep from ringside to the ramp, giving a first person perspective of the ramp from the floor. The shot zooms in up the ramp way as the vocals hit the raging chorus. At this moment, Justin Spirit…THE ICEMAN…walks out onto the stage! Dressed in a white, unbuttoned silk shirt and black pants with a pair of Oakleys sunglasses covering his baby blues…there is a boyish grin on his face as he acknowledges the crowd.

“(am I) Breaking Down!!!

Can I break away

Push me away, make me fall,

Just to see, another side of me,

Push me away, you can see,

what I see, the other side of me.”

He walks to stage right with an arm outstretched, pointing to the fans who acknowledge him. Justin then heads stage left to do the same as the chorus closes. He descends the ramp and his focus snaps to the ring. With a practiced flick of his wrist he lifts the Oakleys off the bridge of his nose and rests them high on his head, seated comfortably behind the frosted tips of his gelled hair. His cool blue eyes focus intently on the ring as Justin gets his “game face’ on.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Miami, Florida… JUSTIN SSPPIIRRIITT!!!”

“Fall back on me, and I’ll be the strength I need,

to save me now, just come face to face with me,

stay in place you’ll be the first to see, me heal these wounds,

step down, step down, step down, down!!”

He walks up the ring steps and heads down the apron a bit. With one look back over the crowd, Justin slips into the ring through the middle ropes. Once on the canvas he acknowledges the ref with a nod.

“I’m not breaking, down

can I break away

push me away, make me fall,

just to see another side of me,

push me away you can see,

what I see, the other side of me


The music ends and the lights return to their normal brilliance. He removes the sunglasses and silk shirt, promptly handing them off to the ring crew. Justin walks to the corner and leans back nonchalantly against the turnbuckle…the grin doesn’t leave his face…

POWERS: “And the opponent!”

A blast of sound hits the PA all at once, pounding into the eardrums of anyone who would listen. “New Blood” by Zayde Wolf’s rhythmic lyrics soon follow, the vocals piercing through the air. The anthem continued to croon, a haunting melody catching everyone’s attention. Once Kaiden Hawke slowly made his way onto the stage with a stone-faced expression across his stoic features, a mighty roar of jeers and boos rained down on him like hail, watching as he made his way down the ramp. With a cold disposition, he remained indifferent to their behavior, blue eyes steadily glaring at the ring ahead.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Seattle, Washington, weighing in at two hundred fifty-three pounds and standing six feet, four inches tall… KAIDEN HHAAWWKKEE!!!”

Stopping in his tracks once he got to the apron, he tilted his head to the side, an inaudible crack leaving his neck as he prepared himself to enter the ring. The walking vessel’s eyes swung to and fro across the arena landscape, examining every sight and every sound he could until a hint of emotion finally penetrated the armor. A small devious smirk crossed his lips while he approached the steps, listening to the crowd chastising him like it was music to his ears. The music still followed him, urging him forward. Climbing the steel steps, expression solid again, he walked along the apron with a certain unspoken poise about him, steadily gripping the second rope, climbing into the ring in the midst of the reprimanding crowd. Keeping his attention towards his corner, he wasted no time at all resting his elbows overtop the two perpendicular adjacent top ropes, arching his back slightly to relax with a measure of patience adorn his face. While the music died down, just another day at the office, Kaiden lazily rested in his corner while his eyes swung back and forth between the stage and the referee, ready for a fight.

VASSA: “We have both competitors in the ring, now let’s get down to business!”

CASWELL: “Kaiden looks comfortable, a little too comfortable.”

VASSA: “He’s coming off an impressive win in his 4CW debut. He’s apparently backed by the queen and king. I’d say he’s comfortable.”

CASWELL: “He better not be too comfortable because that can always come to bite someone in the ass.”

VASSA: “I wish I could say the same because you’ve made yourself too comfortable at the booth with me. That’s Steve’s spot! You’re just keeping it warm in his absence.”

In the center of the ring, the official checks with both men before throwing his hand into the air and signaling for the bell.


Stepping out of their corners, the two approach each other until standing face to face in the center of the ring. Mouthing off a bit, Kaiden steps in closer to Justin. Keeping his cool for a short moment, Justin then pushes Kaiden back a few steps. Laughing it off, Kaiden then throws a right punch for Justin’s head, only to come up short as Justin blocks it and counters with a right of his own. Swinging again, Justin connects with another right and then another, keeping Kaiden on his toes. Popping his foot up from the mat, Justin goes to kick Kaiden in the stomach but to his surprise, Kaiden catches his foot in mid air.

Pulling Justin in close and wrapping him up, Kaiden then lifts him off his feet and slams him to the mat with a belly to belly suplex. Standing up, Kaiden looks over to Justin, surprised to see him getting back up so quickly. As Justin gets to one knee, Kaiden steps in and grabs onto the back of his head, pulling it in as he drives his knee into Justin’s face. Pulling Justin up to his feet, Kaiden then whips him to the ropes and as he returns, Kaiden takes him down, face first to the mat, with a drop toe hold.

VASSA: “Justin was off to a quick start but that ended in the blink of an eye.”

CASWELL: “Those types of things happen. Being a so called ‘legend’ and all, Justin should have expected that.”

Back to his feet, Kaiden looks over his shoulder, surprised again to see Justin getting up so quickly. Rushing over, Kaiden kicks Justin in the stomach as he gets to all fours, flipping him over and putting him on his back. Stepping forward, Kaiden presses his foot into Justin’s chest and uses him as a step to walk to the other side of his body. Reaching down and grabbing Justin by the head, Kaiden rolls him over to his stomach and then pulls him up to his feet.

Swatting Kaiden’s hands away, Justin pulls himself away from Kaiden’s hold. He then connects with a right to the side of the head and follows up with a scoop slam, throwing Kaiden down to his back. Kaiden pushes himself up but before he can get to his feet, Justin grabs onto him and helps him up the rest of the way. Stepping in beside Kaiden, Justin then drops him to the mat with a Russian leg sweep. Rolling over and making the cover, Justin hooks Kaiden’s leg as the official slides in for the count.


Popping his shoulder up from the mat, Kaiden breaks the count. Back on his feet, Justin grabs onto Kaiden’s arm and pulls him up to his feet. Locking onto Kaiden’s wrist, Justin goes to throw him to the ropes but Kaiden reverses the throw and whips Justin to them instead. As Justin comes back on the rebound, Kaiden takes off towards him and levels him with a running elbow smash to the face, dropping him to his back.

Climbing over and mounting himself on Justin, Kaiden then unloads with multiple punches. Hitting Justin with lefts and rights to the head, Kaiden bashes him with closed fists, hitting him from both directions. Grabbing Justin’s head with both hands, Kaiden then lifts it up from the mat and then slams it back down, driving the back of his head into the canvas. Pushing himself up, Kaiden then looks to the nearby corner and quickly rushes over. Climbing to the second rope, Kaiden then leaps into the air and comes down on Justin’s chest with a double foot stomp.

VASSA: “Stomp on his heart!”

CASWELL: “Kaiden isn’t letting up on Justin one bit.”

VASSA: “Makes you wonder if Perry asked him to make it hurt in the ring tonight.”

CASWELL: “Well, that is his job. This is wrestling after all.”

Pulling Justin up from the mat, Kaiden ducks down and lifts him into the air, hanging him over his back with his head between his legs. Hooking his arm around Justin’s head as he hangs upside down on Kaiden’s back, Kaiden then drops down to one knee and slams Justin’s neck on his elevated knee with a reverse neckbreaker.

CASWELL: “The Alpha Breaker!”

VASSA: “That’s Cashe’s thunder buddy you’re talking about!”

CASWELL: “No! That’s what Kaiden likes to call that reverse neckbreaker.”

Kaiden then crawls over Justin and makes the cover as the official slides in with the count.









POWERS: “Here is your winner, KAIDEN HHAAWWKKEE!!!”

The feed transitions to the backstage area of the Orleans Arena. One of tonight’s headliners, Lyza Reyes is seen leaving the training room, bidding farewell to the trainer. Purple kinesio tape has been applied to her wrists. She extends her arms forward, rotating her forearms to make adjustments. Pleased with the application of said tape, she makes her way to an area reserved for interviews. A 20 x 30 poster for Ante Up is posted on the wall behind her. She glances at it for a moment, scoffing to herself. Acknowledging the camera, she turns around with her back against the wall, with the poster beside her. She raises her left knee, bending it slightly, and puts her foot on the concrete wall for balance.

REYES: ”It’s not the ‘model’ that I am reacting to. I can appreciate the ruggedness that’s happening here. Anyway, despite making it to Vegas, it’s not within ideal circumstances. I wanted to be in that Main Event, and be the Wildcard I know I can be. But I guess it’s, ‘c’est la vie. Ante Up will not be my moment, but rest assure you’re not witnessing my demise. I’m not fading away like Kat Stevenson’s eyebrows when the sprinklers come at her by surprise.”

She runs her thumbs across her eyebrows, then shows them off. The cameraman adjusts the focus, seeing that her thumbs are void of makeup stains.

REYES: ”I have a chance to get that spark going once again. Tonight, although it doesn’t appear to be of much value to my opponent, actually means something to me. I am going to give it my all, because I have no other choice. There comes a time when you get sick of ‘coming up short,’ or ‘almost’ having it. And yes, it is frustrating to feel as though you’ve become a broken record, or the top 40 station on mainstream radio. This playlist with the same songs playing on a loop is driving me crazy. So what am I going to do about that? Naturally, I’m going to take it out on my opponent. He’s made it very easy to come into Adrenaline with a different mindset. Thank you, Maddox. Thank you very much for what you have done…”

She winks at the camera, before removing her foot from the wall, then planting it on the floor. She then turns around, facing the poster and reaches in her hoodie pocket. She takes out a marker, and uncaps it. On the center above the word “Ante” she writes the following in silver ink: #Ultra. The scene fades, with her walking away, and the cameraman zooming in on the image.


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

“Bad Girl” cues over the sound system causing the crowd to boo as Christy walks through the curtains and out onto the stage. With her “Star Struck Productions” matching her ring attire, and the hood currently up she stops in the center of the stage as the fans continue to boo.

POWERS: “Making her way to the ring from Laughlin, Nevada… CHRISTY CCHHAAOOSS!!!”

Christy blows the fans off walking down the ramp and to the steps. As she climbs the steps she removes the hood and stops on the apron a moment, glanching at the fans with a cocky smirk before wiping her feet and stepping into the ring. Removing her hoodie she drops it to the floor and begins warming up.

POWERS: “And the opponent!”

The first fourteen seconds of “Under the Influence” has the arena in a darkened laser light show. Amidst the strobes and pulses of light, at the entrance. When that swooping bass rattles and shakes through the speaker system, the lights come up in-time to reveal Thirteen posed with her back turned at the top of the ramp. “I was Under the Influence.” With a feisty turn, a roll of the neck, a confident gaze out into the crowd, and cute little wiggle of the hips she is moving down to the ring clapping the hands of fans.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Fortaleza, Brazil, weighing in at one hundred twenty-five pounds and standing five feet, five inches tall! She is ‘Unlucky’… TTHHIIRRTTEEEENN!!!”

Hopping onto the apron, giving another wiggle of her behind, ever consummately proud of her physical fitness once her fingers find those ropes, however, she’s no nonsense. She comes to a stand, strides a few steps then slips into the ring with a bounce to her step and throws a few warm-up punches.

VASSA: “It’s been a good while since we’ve seen Christy Chaos in the ring here on Adrenaline.”

CASWELL: “It’s her time to shine tonight so let’s see how she does.”

VASSA: “She has her work cut out for her with Thirteen. This is going to be one hell of a match.”

As both ladies stand in their corners ready to get things underway, the official throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.


As the bell echoes, both ladies walk towards the center of the ring and begin slowly circling one another. Locking up, the two then test each others strength and battle for leverage. Taking lead, Chaos pulls Thirteen’s head down and applies a side headlock. Planting her hand on Chaos’ back, Thirteen pushes her off and sends her to the ropes. Coming back on the rebound, Chaos knocks Thirteen to her back with a shoulder block.

Quick to her feet, Thirteen stands and points for Chaos to go to the ropes and try it again. With a smile on her face, Chaos takes off for the ropes and hits them hard, coming back on the rebound with even more speed than the first time. Standing her ground, Thirteen plants her feet into the mat but gets knocked on her back again as Chaos hits her with a second shoulder block.

Slapping the mat and pushing herself up, Thirteen signals for Chaos to try once again for a third time. Happy to do so, Chaos takes off to the ropes and comes back on the rebound, going for yet another shoulder block. Kicking Chaos in the stomach, Thirteen stops her in her tracks and as she lunges over, the grabs onto Chaos’ head with both hands and slams her face into the canvas with a sit-out facebuster.

CASWELL: “The third time is usually a charm but not in this case.”

VASSA: “I like Thirteen. I’ve always been impressed with what I’ve seen from her in Uprising and various other places.”

CASWELL: “She has her work cut out for her now because Adrenaline is a whole different kind of beast.”

Pulling Chaos up from the mat, Thirteen locks onto her wrist and then whips her to the corner across the ring. As Chaos slams against the corner, Thirteen takes off and charges towards her. Doing a handspring, Thirteen pops up and flies backwards in the air, hitting Chaos in the face with a back elbow. Stepping out of the way, Thirteen opens a path for Chaos to stumble forward, still on her feet. Climbing up the corner backwards, Thirteen leaps from the middle rope and wraps her arm around Chaos’ head, driving her face into the canvas with a bulldog.

VASSA: “Christy seems to be a bit out of place here tonight.”

CASWELL: “Maybe Thirteen is just that good. I don’t know, it’s hard to tell really with these ladies.”

VASSA: “Thirteen is all that and then some! I think she may be my new flavor of the month!”

CASWELL: “It’s nice to pretend.”

Rolling Christy over to her back, Thirteen stands to her feet and then turns to the ropes behind her. Coming back on the rebound, she leaps into the air and comes down across Christy’s throat with a leg drop, pinning her head to the mat as Christy’s feet shoot straight into the air. Back on her feet, Thirteen then turns to the corner and quickly rushes over, ascending to the top. Standing high above the ring, Thirteen looks over the crowd as they begin chanting.

“N-E-ULTRA!!! … N-E-ULTRA!!! … N-E-ULTRA!!! … N-E-ULTRA!!! … N-E-ULTRA!!!”

Leaping into the air as high as she can, Thirteen does a back flip and comes down, hitting Chaos with a shooting star press. the crowd ignites as she completes the move. Pushing herself up with confidence, Thirteen then grabs onto Chaos and pulls her up as well. Turning her around, she wraps her arm over Chaos’ face and around her head. Kicking her leg up and turning her body, she then removes her arm and slams her leg down onto Chaos’ head, dropping her to the mat with an inverted leg drop bulldog.

CASWELL: “Coming Up Roses!”

VASSA: “I wish the entire ring would get flooded with roses after that beautiful move.”

Crawling over Chaos and hooking the leg, Thirteen goes for the pin as the official slides in for the count.









POWERS: “Here is your winner, TTHHIIRRTTEEEENN!!!”

“RUTHLESS! Where the fuck are you?” Opening a random door backstage, Jason Cashe peeks inside. Looking for his dog after it ran off earlier. He hadn’t the slightest clue where he would have ran off too. There weren’t any signs either. No urine on walls or piles of dookie piles other than the one in front of Wallace’s office.

CASHE: “Where did he go? Shit..”

Halfway entering another door cracked open. Ruthless being curious might have entered doors open due to a smell. No sign inside the room that had a pair of pink panties in the center of the floor.

CASHE: “I bet that Kash guy wears those on the weekends. He wishes he was as cool as me…”

Pulling the door closed and turning back into the backstage halls. There standing in a custom suit, shiny and pricey as fuck was Adrenaline GM Jack Vaughn. A stern look on his face, Cashe almost seemed worried that Ruthless had disturbed the peace.

VAUGHN: “Jason…”

CASHE: “I’ve never seen that dog before in my life. Kill him!”

Letting out a sighing laugh Vaughn pouts as he shakes his head.

VAUGHN: “I haven’t seen any dogs. But walk with me for a minute will you?”

CASHE: “Where are we headed?”

Putting a friendly around Cashe’s shoulders, the two turn down the hallway. Removing his arm as they sync up in pace. Vaughn inquires with a few questions.

VAUGHN: “How are things going Jason? You doing good since… Since the breakup?”

CASHE: “Breakup was the word used, sure. But I dumped her! It doesn’t seem too mutual. Have you SEEN her twitter homepage and tweets? Ehhh she mad, yeah?”

Quickly Vaughn shakes his head like he had forgotten that was even a thing. He hadn’t concerned himself with relationships during his time in 4CW. No for Jake Vaughn he was all about business.

VAUGHN: “Not that. Unstable.”

CASHE: “I’m good… I mean it’s weird cause they numbers aren’t found on the contacts in my phone. How long I been in that crew now? So of course it’s weird but these last few days I’ve realized I’m better off ya know?”

Turning a corner, Cashe still has his eye out for Ruthless. It was like the little fucker was playing Hide N Seek and trying not to get found.

VAUGHN: “A while. Friends, trust, maybe even a Family environment between some of you. That’s why it surprises me honestly… A man like you has a lot of eyes on him. Someone always right around the corner waiting for their turn. So now what I’m wondering is what happens when you find yourself against the odds and no Unstable to help you?”

The red “EXIT” sign caught Cashe’s attention briefly as he threw an arm back across Vaughn’s expensive suit. Stopping in the middle of the hallway, Cashe looked up at the much bigger. Much taller General Manager. Someone that no matter his role, he wouldn’t go down without a fight.

CASHE: “It was NEVER about what they could do to HELP me! I didn’t join for backup. I’ve got that “Stage Dive” mentality no matter who is standing across from me or surrounding me. I’m swinging and will be DAMN sure to take as many of them with me as I can before I’m put down. I haven’t always been Unstable and I was PRETTY fucking successful before them. No with Unstable, it was about representation. The PURPOSE of being aligned under the same Label. BEING there for each other not in a fight because we ALL do that on our SOLO!”

Giving a playful pause to inhale wild and deeply. He was spitting without too many breaks for breathing. Grinning as his voice goes again, he turned down the volume and hype that belted before.

CASHE: “I didn’t go and team with Genie because I know SOME didn’t like her in Unstable so I badmouthed a half decent person. When I KNEW CJ disliked JPD for reasons I still don’t fully understand. Yet the MOMENT I was named for Team 4CW? I knew for many reasons I would turn but when it was setup up for it being JPD I smashed to make the turn? I texted CJ first.”

VAUGHN: “What’d you say?”

CASHE: “Heh. This one is for you homie… Because that’s what we WERE. But when Amber Ryan who was very much like a Sister to me decided to just ignore the surroundings I have been in. Teamed with those who hate me, hated US. Yeah I had issue with that and whatever stick she found inserted in her ASS? I hope one day she has it removed because she turned BITCH real quick. But Jackie let me ask you a question…”

VAUGHN: “Alright..”

CASHE: “With no bias for 4CW included. Straight up out of the entire history that Unstable has. WHO has represented that shit hardest? Who wore that as a cape, as a strength? I BODY BAG motherfuckers and CJ has caught losses after losses JUST as he will at Ante Up. Chris Madison is the ONLY name on that ship that has any value to me and to anyone in 4CW. From now on I rep one thing and that’s the Special Made that is I.. Rivals and Alliances better come prepared to put in work or you will get left behind…”

Seconds pass where silence fill the conversation. Someone peeks out from a room to see what the commotion was about. From the corner of his eye, Cashe turns to the exit to see a woman leaving the building. Under her arm was Ruthless being carried away. Cashe holds up a finger excusing himself from the talks with Jack Vaughn. The scene fades as Cashe leaves through the Exit door after the dog snatcher.

The ring crew scurries around the ring, setting it up for a scheduled public contract signing. They slide a table into the ring as some stagehands come from the backstage with a few high back office chairs on each side. The cameraman momentarily focuses in on Vinny Vassa and Adrian Caswell at ringside.

CASWELL: “Is this charade really going to take place?”

VASSA: “The king and queen do as they please. If they want to make a public production out of this contract signing they sure as hell will.”

CASWELL: “I just don’t see the need. They’ve already announced this match will take place at Ante Up.”

VASSA: “They’re just giving the fans what they want to see!”


”Notorious” by Notorious B.I.G. featuring Lil’ Kim hits the speakers as Perry Wallace and Kaysie Sherell walk out from the back. Stopping at the top of the ramp, the two stand side by side, overlooking the crowd as Kaysie has her arm wrapped around Perry’s. The fans welcome them with a wave of boos and they turn to look at each other with smiles on their faces. Looking back to the ring, the two then proceed down the ramp as the boos from the crowd grow louder and louder.

CASWELL: “Didn’t you just say that these two were giving the fans what they wanted to see?”

VASSA: “I did say that.”

CASWELL: “Well, you could have fooled me.”

Once at ringside, Perry takes Kaysie’s hand and assists her as she climbs the ringside steps and stands on the apron. Following behind her, Perry then holds the ropes, spreading them apart as Kaysie dips underneath the middle rope and enters the ring. Walking to the center of the ring, Kaysie then turns to the ropes where Perry then enters. Pulling out a microphone from his coat pocket, Perry slowly walks to the center where he stands beside Kaysie and leans against the edge of the tabletop. The music then begins fading out but the boos remain, louder than they were before.

VASSA: “As important as this is, you would think that the fans would be a little more courteous.”

CASWELL: “We still have a few matches left and this is doing nothing but delaying the show. We already know that Chris Madison will be defending the 4CW Pride Championship at Ante Up against Erron Wilder.”

VASSA: “Frankie Morrison has been campaigning for a contract and the king and queen are delivering!”

Talking amongst themselves, Kaysie and Perry takes their time, waiting out the fans as the boos slowly die down. Shrugging his shoulders, a smile comes to Perry’s face as Kaysie gives him a slow nod. Turning to the crowd, Perry then raises the microphone to his lips.

WALLACE: “In just one week we will be back here in Las Vegas for Ante Up! Only one more week to wait until 4CW comes back to this beautiful city that never sleeps. Ante Up and Las Vegas have always come together to create something special for 4CW. This is the event in which we held our first ever super-card, two Ante Up’s as a matter of fact. Here we are with number three, but this time it will be a pay-per-view, the first ever for 4CW to be held in Sin City!”

Despite the fans displeasure for the king and queen duo, the last comment draws a positive reaction from them as a light cheer is heard throughout the entire building. Extending his arm, Perry then hands the microphone to Kaysie who patiently awaits.

SHERELL: “4CW has come a long way since it’s beginning stages almost three years ago. I may have not been around during it’s entire lifespan, but in the seven months I have spent with Perry, 4CW has still been constantly growing. Next week when we gather in this city once again for Ante Up, we will see this company move forward into yet a new era. Not only is Ante Up the biggest 4CW event of the year, this one in particular will always be remembered as the turning point for 4CW.”

Lowering the microphone from her lips, Kaysie looks to Perry who is nodding in agreement. Taking a step forward, she stands next to him and hands him the microphone before smiling from ear to ear.

WALLACE: “This city has always been good to me. It has been my home for the last three years. We’ve shared quite a few memories and it saddens me to say this, but, Ante Up will be the only thing left for me here in Las Vegas. As many of you may know, I have moved away from this city to start a new chapter in my life. I will always miss this place, but we’ll always have Ante Up.”

Grabbing the microphone from his hands, Kaysie snatches it away, leaving Perry silent before the tears begin to show.

SHERELL: “Let’s stay on topic, shall we? We don’t need you getting all emotional here tonight. This city sees a lot of faces, more leaving than staying, and I’m sure you will easily be forgotten.”

A look of shock comes to Perry’s face as the words roll off her tongue.

SHERELL: “Wait a second, calm down, it gets better. Even though I’m taking you away from this city of sin, the fans will always have and never forget about Ante Up, not this upcoming one, or from the two years before. You may be walking away from this city Perry, but you’re leaving them with what could in fact be the biggest wrestling event of the year, each and every year in fact.”

With joy in his eyes, Perry extends his hand, palm up and open.

SHERELL: “Now… hasn’t there been a lot of talk about a contract of sorts lately?”

Looking down at the tabletop, Perry locks his eyes on a folder before looking back to Kaysie and nodding. She then hands him the microphone. With the mic in one hand, Perry reaches down and runs his finger along the folder before stopping at the open end. Pulling the top half of the folder up, he opens the folder, revealing an official contract document underneath. Raising the microphone to his lips, he keeps his attention focused on the contract.

WALLACE: “For weeks, even months, Frankie Morrison has been fighting for a new contract for his client, Chris Madison, the 4CW Pride Champion. Some folks thought that his words weren’t heard by Kaysie and myself. I heard them, loud and clear. Frankie will deny it, but I have tried reaching out to him, several times actually.”

Closing the folder, Perry then looks up to the crowd.

WALLACE: “I remember just two weeks ago his client thought a certain match booked was a joke. Before, the man had a perfect record in 4CW, not a single blemish, but now he’s no longer undefeated. Frankie… Chris… you two had more leverage for a big deal before that mockery two weeks ago. Here we are now, one week before Ante Up and one week before the original contract actually expires. A perfect record could have brought more money, but more importantly, it would have earned more respect from myself. What you did two weeks ago was a slap in the face, and now you want to continue pushing a new big deal to re-sign? Well, I have a contract for you. This is an official contract for the 4CW Pride Championship match next week at Ante Up. I need to see how much you’re really worth now. After you sign this and face off with the challenger, The Stuntman himself, we’ll see exactly how much a new contract is worth to you and your client, Frankie. You guys wanted to negotiate and play hardball, well it’s your turn now.

So, Erron… Chris… Frankie… would you three be so kind to grace us with your presence so we can make this thing official?”

Placing the microphone on top of the table, Perry takes Kaysie by the hand and the two walk to the edge of the ring to wait along the ropes. Suddenly, the recognizable Punjabi tremor rings around the arena, steadily building towards the explosive crescendo that gives way to “Blood, Milk and Sky” by White Zombie. The crowds lifted to their feet, from the live viewers and to the signs “Wilderland is open for a thrill” hoisted in the air acknowledge the man behind the thundering echoes—’The Stuntman’ Erron Wilder.’ Where everything around had dimmed to a thick black except for fluorescent strobes of light spiraling around clockwork, searching the inside of the arena. It’s then up in a particular staircase that the shadowed contour of Erron Wilder slowly trudges down the cold steps at his own leisure.

“The siren sings a lonely song

Of all the wants and hungers

The lust of love, a brute desire

The ledge of life goes under”

As the lyrics pursue, his sullen smile emerging through the touch of light. He swings his arms loosely to their sides with a hint of cockiness in his movement. Looking ready for the contract signing, soaked up with an aggressive form of confidence in the midst of a crowd reaching for him on his way down. Both of his shriveled up, glacial blue eyes remaining fixated with the ring, and never turning away to give care to those calling out to him. He quickly slides over the barricade upon contact, scoffing at everyone and everything with a saucy grunt before rolling his leather jacket-clad heap inside the ring.

POWERS: “Making his way to the ring, by way of Saginaw, Michigan and weighing in at two hundred and twenty nine pounds, he is… ERRON “STUNTMAN” WWIILLDDEERR!!!”

Moving towards the King and Queen, Erron slaps hands with Wallace jovially and then briefly bows his head at Sherrell to greet her. He then proceeds to take one of two microphones from the table, a grin manifested over his shady mug as he looks around the arena.

WILDER: “You know, there is a lot in the news these days, eventful tragedies and revolutions that trigger widespread, mass hysteria in people. These radical acts of, unknown individuals that you’ve probably never heard of taking to the extremity to be known, to be heard and to make others remember the day as a deeply distressing experience that almost becomes a scar in the brain. It turns into a recurrent memory that follows you in your sleep as much as when you’re awake, making you think twice about your own security and if the people around you are really incapable of bringing your world down within the bat of an eyelid.”

His abyssal pupils shift throughout the many wondering faces in the crowd, his grin subsiding to a barren slit.

WILDER: “It is unfortunate that I found myself under the same infamous light when this match was announced. Because you see, I didn’t see myself as another one of the many happy-go-lucky contenders that Chris Madison has had gunning for his streak or his title. Those that get carried away by the excitement of the opportunity to compete for a prize in this sport. No, I saw myself as a ‘young turk’, a new and relatively unknown face in the place looking to bring about an unwanted change. And I say ‘unwanted’ because everything Chris Madison has accomplished so far has become monumental, somewhat sacred and a legacy unlike any other ‘til this day. It all stands tall as an empire within the entire 4CW continent.”

Erron then peers over to the contract laying over the table centered in the ring.

WILDER: “So for me to be here, it’s like enlisting myself for war. It’s telling you all that I am committed to be a soldier of armageddon, and everything I do is narrowed in laser focus to destroy everything that Chris Madison is, from his fuckin’ face to his good name. To take his prestige under siege, ‘land disfigure his unstoppable figure. Because I am the radical now; the Mark David Chapman to his John Lennon, the Macbeth to his King Duncan, and the knife on his back to his Caesar. And at Ante Up, I will become the new Pride Champion, and you will all keep a present thought of the feat in your heads as cautionary advice that ‘all good things come to an end.’ That if you fuck with me, I’ll hasten that bitch!”

In a fit of intensity, he violently flings the microphone down against the canvas, letting it bounce up from its head with a sharp static sound resonating in the speakers. The venue’s lights cut out, causing the entire building to go dark. The sharp static sound that cut through arena when the Erron dropped the mic turned to static feedback that screeches over the P.A. system, forcing the fans in the audience to cover their ears. The video screen near the entranceway 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 before the screen cuts to black with white lettering that spells out “Unstable”. The crowd jumps to their feet, a 50/50 split between cheers and boos, as the static feedback is replaced by the opening chorus to Bullet For My Valentine’s single You Want a Battle? (Here’s A War).

“We will not take this anymore

These words will never be ignored

You want a battle


A sole spotlight focuses on the curtain for the entranceway as Chris Madison steps out. His head is tucked down focusing on the ground beneath him. The mixed crowd erupts in anticipation as Madison stands as still as a statue. He finally brings his fists up towards his face and punches himself on the jaw with both hands as Frankie Morrison slides out from behind him. The two men begin marching towards the ring as Mike Powers formally introduces them.

POWERS: “On his way down to the ring, being accompanied by Frankie Morrison, he is the current 4CW Pride Champion, CHRIS MADISON!”

Madison charges to the ring and slides in under the bottom rope before leaping up to his feet. He marches directly to the center of the ring and stands toe to toe with Erron Wilder as he unsnaps the 4CW Pride Championship from around his waist. He hoists the championship high above his head, forcing Erron’s eyes to drift upwards, staring at the prize the two men will compete for at Ante Up. Frankie stepped in through the ropes, locking eyes with Perry Wallace while bring a microphone up towards his lips.

MORRISON: “You know Erron, I’m starting to think you really have no idea what you’re walking into at Ante Up.”

Madison lowers the title and looks over at his manager. He places the championship over his shoulder and walks over to Morrison, snatching the microphone out of his hand before he could utter another sound. The crowd erupts as Frankie Morrison looks at his client, puzzled by his actions.

MADISON: “Bravo Erron.”

Madison claps his hands while locking eyes with his would be challenger. He lowers the microphone for a moment and motions for Frankie to look over the contract.

MADISON: “Erron you talk a good game; well enough that you have these people people eating it up right out of the palms of your hands. But all you’ve done is fall into the same exact trap as everyone else who’s found the gall to stand toe to toe with me. Just like them, you count me out. In your mind, it’s a foregone conclusion that you possess what it takes to beat me inside this ring. Erron, if it were that simple it wouldn’t have taken a year to get done!”

Madison pauses for a moment as he glares into Erron’s eyes, watching the fire grow with every word he spews. He looks over at Frankie Morrison who has grabbed a seat and is thumbing through championship match contract.

MADISON: “Last year when I debuted at Ante Up, I had an agenda. I had wrongs that needed to be righted. I never came to 4CW with the intentions of running roughshod over the entire roster. But as time progressed I simply just kept getting better. Win after win piled up and I forced the 4CW fans to question the product that Perry Wallace paraded before them for the last two and a half years. It was never my intention to expose this company as a farce but that’s exactly what I did. Perry has tried his hand at doing everything in his power to make this nightmare just disappear. He has thrown me to the wolves, putting my back against the wall show after show. Yet here I am, STILL undefeated… STILL the 4CW Pride Champion. And you Erron, you’re just the next pawn on his board that he’s willing to sacrifice. You see yourself as a revolutionist who’s ready for war. Erron you have no idea what kind of battle you’re walking into at Ante Up.”

Madison stops and gets a nod from Frankie Morrison. He walks over to the table and scratches his signature onto the contract before slamming the pen down.

MADISON: “You begged for this Erron. You wanted the opportunity to prove yourself, you’ve got it! But if you want to walk out with the right to claim my undefeated streak and the right to call yourself the 4CW Pride Champion, you’re going to have to open your eyes and fully understand what you’re up against. I’m no god like you’ve insinuated. I’m no immovable object. What I am is one of the toughest sons of bitches to step inside this ring. I will grind you down, break apart your will to keep fighting. I will test just how tough you really are. I rejuvenated the 4CW Pride Championship; saving it from the running joke it became. Don’t think that just because my 4CW contract is over after Ante Up I’m going to roll over and let you take this from me. I’m leaving Las Vegas as a free agent and I plan on bringing the championship with me wherever I go!”

Madison turns his attention over to Perry Wallace. He slowly strides towards the owner of 4CW, backing him into a corner.

MADISON: “You’ve had it out for me since day one; always bitter that Frankie chose to represent me over working for you. It kills you doesn’t it? To know that you don’t have an ounce of control over me. You had plenty of opportunity to get a deal done to keep me here in 4CW…”

The crowd roars at prospect of Madison staying with 4CW.

MADISON: “But you sat on your ass and decided to call my bluff.”

The live audience lets out a collective sigh and starts booing the owner of 4CW.

MADISON: “And instead of being a man, putting our differences aside, and sitting down to get a deal done you dragged your feet while putting me through the gauntlet. Even forcing me to face Jason Cashe as a part of his punishment for betraying team 4CW in the HOW War Games match. Well Perry, maybe it took a year to figure this out but I’m not one of these Omertà bitches that ride your dick. When you say jump, I don’t ask how high. If Cashe wanted a match with me we would have worked it out, not just fight for your own personal amusement. Erron, he’s your last bit of hope. He’s the guy you’re betting the house on. If he fails then what? Two nights later I’ll be in Japan for Pride of Puroresu Resurgence; you’ll be able to see the Pride Championship then…”

Without warning Erron Wilder takes a few steps towards Madison and flips the table, brushing Chris in the back of his legs. Madison turns around and snarls at his challenger. The two meet in the center of the ring, pressing their foreheads against one another as they begin to mouth off. Neither man backs down; neither man gives up an inch. Security storms from the backstage area, flooding the ring and separating the two.


CASWELL: “It’s been an exciting night so far ladies and gentlemen but we’re not finished yet!”

VASSA: “Up next we have Maddox Lucien taking on the lovely, Lyza Reyes.”

CASWELL: “She ain’t bad.”

VASSA: “Really? You’re stupid!”

CASWELL: “This isn’t a beauty contest, Vinny. It’s a wrestling match. It doesn’t matter how pretty you may think she is.”

VASSA: “You seriously need to lighten the fuck up, Cassie.”

CASWELL: “I swear, if you call me that one more ti–“


CASWELL: “Let’s just get on with the damn match!”

“Bullet With A Name” by Nonpoint begins to play as the lights in the arena dim.

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

A red hue fills the arena as Maddox Lucien walks out onto the ring entrance stage, dressed differently than normal, and stares at the ring.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring at this time, residing in Budapest, Hungary, standing at an even six feet tall and weighing in at two hundred forty pounds! He is the man known as ‘Violence’, MADDOX LLUUCCIIEENN!!!”

Dressed in identical ring attire as Issac Solo, Maddox starts walking down the ramp, yelling to the fans on both sides of him.


CASWELL: “Who does he think he is?”

VASSA: “This is downright ridiculous! He’s coming out here pretending to be Issac Solo!”

CASWELL: “Those two have had their run-ins lately and they haven’t ended pretty, much like his opponent tonight.”

VASSA: “Lyza is way prettier than Maddox dressed like Issac.”

He makes like he’s going to backhand a fan but gives a smile and a thumbs up as the fan gets riled up over it.


He turns his attention back to the ring and hops up onto the apron with a single knee. He stands up and then pulls back on the top rope before he springs over and lands inside the ring.

VASSA: “This is just disrespectful.”

CASWELL: “Maybe he needs Issac to check him back in line again.”

VASSA: “I’m not opposed to seeing that happen.”

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.

POWERS: “And the opponent!”

“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: “Simply stunning.”

CASWELL: “Oh my god…”

VASSA: “And she’s a badass in the ring! Show some respect, Cassie!”

CASWELL: “Let’s see how she can handle herself against a man then, shall we?”

VASSA: “She would fuck you up!”

CASWELL: “Please…”

In the center of the ring, the official checks with both wrestlers, getting the nod from each. With both now ready to get things underway, the official then throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.


Stepping out of his corner first, Maddox slowly walks towards the center of the ring, stomach puffed out as if he were overweight. Slapping his chest, he continues to yell as loud as he can.


Stopping in the center of the ring, Maddox slaps his chest a few more times before holding his arms out to the side and slowly turning his back to Lyza across the ring in the corner.

CASWELL: “You can tell that Maddox is really taking this match seriously.”

VASSA: “If he knew what was good for him he would! That’s Lyza’s buddy he’s mocking in the ring, NE Ultra baby!”

CASWELL: “So Maddox is making a jackass out of himself to get under Lyza’s skin?”

VASSA: “Open your eyes, Adrian!”

Looking in the opposite direction with his back turned to Lyza, Maddox slaps his chest two more times before yelling once again.


Running up from behind, Lyza hits Maddox over the back with a double axe handle, knocking him forward and into the ropes. Turning around in an instant, Maddox’s eyes light up as Lyza is right there to follow up with a kick to the stomach, forcing him to lunge over from the impact. Locking onto Maddox’s head with both hands, Lyza then drops down and drives his face into the canvas with a sit-out facebuster.

VASSA: “Maddox may be playing games but Lyza surely isn’t!”

CASWELL: “So she attacks him from behind?”

VASSA: “The bell rang! He’s the idiot for turning his back to her.”

Rolling backwards, Lyza pops up to her feet and looks down to Maddox, face down on the canvas in a world of pain. Turning to the ropes to her right, she then takes off towards them and comes back even faster on the rebound. Jumping up a foot from the mat, she aims her feet in front of her body and plants them both in the side of Maddox’s head, rolling him over to his back. Back on her feet, Lyza grabs ahold of Maddox’s arm and pulls him up. Locking onto his wrist, she then goes to whip him to the ropes across the ring but before she can release him, Maddox reverses and whips her to the ropes instead.

CASWELL: “She may be quicker but she definitely isn’t stronger than Maddox!”

Coming back on the rebound, Lyza runs into Maddox who lifts her off her feet, rotates his body around and drops her across his knee with a backbreaker. Pushing himself up, Maddox looks to Lyza as she slowly begins to push herself up as well. Turning to the ropes behind him, Maddox hits them and comes back to deliver a kick to Lyza’s face as she gets up to one knee, popping her up to both feet in the process. Stepping in, Maddox then hits her with a European uppercut that spins her whole body around. Jumping up, Maddox grabs ahold of her head and drops her to the canvas with a neckbreaker.


CASWELL: “Nothing can save her now. Save your breath, chubs.”

VASSA: “If you’re watching us, Steve, please get well soon. I miss you buddy.”

On his feet, Maddox paces the ring for a moment, mocking Issac Solo some more. Holding both arms out to the side, he stares over the crowd before slamming his hands together and yelling into the air.

LUCIEN: “You fools better come correct!”

VASSA: “Oh my god, shut the fuck up!”

Turning his attention back to Lyza, Maddox closes in on her and grabs a handful of hair. Pulling her up to her feet, Maddox lifts her onto his shoulders and then drops her back to the mat with a Samoan drop. Sitting in an upright position, he then looks over his shoulder to Lyza laid out on her back. Pushing himself up, Maddox then walks to the nearest corner, puffing his stomach out once again and mocking Issac. Climbing the corner, Maddox stands on the top and slowly turns around to face Lyza, slapping himself across the chest again, he yells into the air.

LUCIEN: “I’m coming correct with the Cannonball Senton!”

Leaping away from the corner and into the air, Maddox curls his body and flips, coming down to Lyza with the Cannonball Senton.



Rolling out of the way at the last split second, Lyza avoids the crushing attack, leaving nothing but empty canvas to break Maddox’s fall.

CASWELL: “Come on Maddox! Quit showing off!”

VASSA: “This whole match has been nothing but one big joke to him.”

CASWELL: “Just like your sex life, I assume.”

Rolling around the mat, Maddox reaches around and holds his lower back in pain. Quickly getting back to her feet, Lyza rises to the sounds of an electric crowd as a chant breaks out.

“Ul-tra! … Ul-tra! … Ul-tra! … Ul-tra! … Ul-tra!”

VASSA: “You hear that?! She has the entire arena behind her!”

Keeping her eyes lock on Maddox, Lyza stands back allowing him to slowly climb to his feet. Just as he stands, she races in and attacks with a fury of shin kicks before finishing off the stinging combination with a dropkick, sending Maddox to his back and rolling across the ring. Maddox quickly pushes himself up and then charges towards Lyza. Taking a swing for her head, he comes up short as she ducks out of the way and steps in behind him. Maddox quickly turns around, leaving his midsection open once again for Lyza to drive her foot into. Locking onto his head with both hands, Lyza then drops to her knees, slamming his jaw on top of her head and putting him down with a jawbreaker.

CASWELL: “Come on, Maddox! You’d think that kick to the stomach would be obvious after falling for it once.”

VASSA: “Obvious or not, he didn’t see it coming and now things are about to get Ultra!”

Racing to the nearest corner, Lyza ascends to the top as the crowd grows louder and louder with their roars. She then leaps intothe air and comes down on Maddox, landing a shooting star press.

VASSA: “Pura Vida!”

CASWELL: “Do you even know what that means?”

VASSA: “No but I love listening to her say it.”

Making the cover, Lyza hooks his leg as the official slides in with the count.









POWERS: “Here is your winner, LYZA RREEYYEESS!!!”

The camera cuts backstage where we find Jack Vaughn walking the halls cautiously. Stopping in his tracks, he looks down at the mess Cashe’s dog left behind earlier. Turning his head to the side, a name plate hanging on a door catches his attention which reads ‘Wallace – Sherell’. Grinning from ear to ear, he then knocks on the door and takes a few steps back, leaving plenty of room for whoever to exit the office and step into the hallway.

Knock! Knock!

After a few short moments pass, the door swings open and on the other side, Perry Wallace stands. Growing angry at the sight of Jack, Perry turns red in the face as his breathing gets heavier and heavier. Stepping in behind him, Kaysie Sherell places her hand on Perry’s shoulder. Surprised to see Jack standing on the other side of the door, she laughs before cutting her eyes at him.

SHERELL: “Look who it is… Jackie-boy!”

WALLACE: “You’ve got some fucking nerve showing your face around here after that shit you pulled two weeks ago.”

Still smiling, Jack rubs his chin for a short moment before replying.

VAUGHN: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just doing something good for Adrenaline. After all, I am still the general manager.”

WALLACE: “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Snapping her finger, Kaysie steps out from behind Perry and stands beside him.

SHERELL: “Your days are num–“

Holding up his hand and extending his index finger, Jack cuts off Kaysie.

VAUGHN: “Just do us all a favor and shut up, Kaysie. No one really gives a shit what you have to say.”

Growing even angrier, Perry throws his hand up and points towards Jack’s face.

WALLACE: “Don’t you fucking talk to her li–“

Stepping forward, Perry suddenly stops as his foot steps into the mess left behind earlier from Cashe’s dog, Ruthless. Looking down to his foot, Perry holds it up to see the bottom as the smell begins lingering in the air.

WALLACE: “Oh, what the fuck?”

Laughing, Jack looks on in amusement at the sight.

VAUGHN: “You might want to watch your step there, Perr-bear.”


In a fit of rage, Perry reaches down and pulls his shoe off of his foot before throwing it in Jack’s direction. Ducking out of the way, Jack avoids the shoe as it flies by his head and smacks the wall behind him, leaving a brown spot on the paint. Standing straight up, Jack looks over his shoulder at the stain on the wall before turning to Perry and shaking his head.

VAUGHN: “You should really lighten up a little bit.”


Furious, Kaysie goes to step forward but Perry quickly wraps his arms around her waist and holds her back.

SHERELL: “Let me go! I’ve had enough of this piece of shit!”

VAUGHN: “The shit would be behind me, on the wall, thanks to him. Nice going.”

SHERELL: “Let me go! I’m going to kick in that bald head of his again!”


Pulling Kaysie back and into the office, Perry stands between her and Jack

WALLACE: “Let me handle this. Calm down!”

Turning around to face Jack, Perry then takes one giant step, clearing the mess in the floor with his shoeless foot. He then approaches Jack until standing face to face with him.

SHERELL: “Whatever, just hurry the hell up!”

Stepping backwards even further into the office, Kaysie then slams the office door shut. Irritated, Perry looks back and forth between Jack and the office door before finally locking his eyes on Jack.

WALLACE: “You’ve got some fucking nerve, you know that? You signed Sativa?! What the hell are you thinking?! Come the fuck on Jack! You may be dumb but this is beyond retarded. Even you know that!”

VAUGHN: “I don’t think so. You see, it seems that drama brings in ratings these days and her being back in 4CW brings that to your doorstep. Between Unstable, her, and everyone else gunning for you, things should be heating up around here. I was just looking out for the best interest of your new television network deal that goes into motion after Ante Up.”

Slowly nodding and fighting with himself to smile, Perry looks Jack in the eyes.

WALLACE: “Do you think this is a goddamn joke? I fired that little cunt last year! We didn’t see eye to eye then, and I’m sure as shit certain that we’re definitely not going to see eye to eye now.”

VAUGHN: “You should be happy. It’s someone else from that shithole in Jersey you hate so much.”

WALLACE: “I don’t give a shit! Fuck Jersey! Fuck you! Fuck Sativa!”

NEVAEH: “That’s not very nice.”

The voice quickly grabs Perry’s attention as the hairs on his neck rise.

WALLACE: “Well fuck…”

Perry then goes to slowly turn around but as he does, Sativa Nevaeh comes into focus and cracks him in the back of the head with a baseball bat.


Dropping do his knees, Perry then falls forward, crashing face first to the floor. Inches away from his nose, the dog mess sits, smeared in the carpet. Holding the bat with both hands, Sativa laughs hysterically for a short moment before looking to Jack, who stands there, pleased with the attack.

NEVAEH: “He shouldn’t bother you anymore tonight, Jackie.”

Turning her back to Jack, Sativa then walks away, leaving Jack in shock and somewhat disbelief. He then looks down to Perry and steps in closer. Raising his foot from the floor, Jack nudges him with it but Perry remains motionless.

VAUGHN: “Maybe one day you’ll learn that your big mouth gets you into more trouble than anything.”

Jack then walks off in the opposite direction as Sativa, leaving Perry face down on the floor unconscious.


CASWELL: “We’re down to our final match of the evening ladies and gents, the main event!”

VASSA: “Normally I would be sad but this time we won’t have to wait two weeks for our next event.”

CASWELL: “Tonight was an excellent warmup for Ante Up next week.”


CASWELL: “Simmer down, Vinny! Everything is going to be alright.”

VASSA: “I wish you would stop trying to tell me what to do.”

A sample from the late, lamented TV show LAST RESORT sounds out… the voice of Andre Braugher asking… “Do you WANT a war?”

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

Immediately, an edit of “Nate” by Vince Staples kicks in.

“As a kid all I wanted was a hundred grand

Uncle counting money while my daddy cut him grams

Made me promise that this shit would never touch my hands

And it never did said it’d make me be a better man

Smoking in the crib, hiding dip inside of soda cans

Black bandana on his arm, needle in his hand

Momma trying to wake him up, young so I ain’t understand

Why she wouldn’t let my daddy sleep, used to see him stand

Out in the alley through my window

Drinking Hen’ with his homies blowing cig’ smoke

Lights flashing now he running from the Winslows

Hear him screaming from my momma at the backdoor

Sometimes she wouldn’t open it, sitting on the couch

Face emotionless, I don’t think they ever noticed that I noticed it

As a kid all I wanted a hundred grand”

Out into the arena steps Issac Solo, dressed only in his ring gear, with a white towel draped over the back of his neck. The crowd gives him his due applause…

“Cause my daddy did it, eyes bloodshot

With the caddy tinted, **** handouts

**** the county building, never seen that

Catch him riding round the city with the seat back

With the seat back, with the seat back

Catch him ride round the city with the seat back

With the seat back, with the seat back

Catch him ride round the city with the seat back”

POWERS: “Now entering the ring, he comes from Long Beach, California, weighing in at two hundred and ninety pounds, he is, IS-SAAAAAC SOOOOOO-LOOOOOO…”

He clutches to the towel with both hands, as he makes his way in, tossing the towel into an appreciative crowd as he prepares to fight…

POWERS: “And the opponent!”

Suddenly, the arena goes dark.


The lights come up as “Blow It Out” by Ludacris blasts throughout the arena. The crowd showers down boos as Keith Daniels steps out onto the stage. He beckons the crowd to boo louder and grins. He smirks and proceeds down the ramp.

POWERS: Making his way to the ring, now residing in Orlando, FL, he stands six feet ten inches tall and weighs in at three-hundred and forty six pounds… He is ‘The Dangerous One’ Keith Daniels!

On his way, he sees a fan in the front row holding a sign that says “KEITH DANIELS IS BETTER THAN YOU” and grabs the sign from him. He holds it up and turns for everyone to see it, only provoking more boos. He then rips the sign in half and tosses it back to the fan before running to the ring and sliding under the bottom rope with surprising agility considering his size. He then stands and climbs a turnbuckle before putting his hand up inviting the crowd to admire him. He steps down and leans against the turnbuckle.

CASWELL: “Keith made his 4CW in-ring debut two weeks ago with a win over Rob Hewitt.”

VASSA: “Issac is coming off a tough loss to Destroyer as well.”

CASWELL: “Keith Daniels was a huge signing for 4CW. It took a while for him to finally get into the ring but he was impressive when the time finally came.”

VASSA: “Don’t overlook Issac. He may be coming off a loss but he’s been a hit since debuting in 4CW. The fans love him!”

CASWELL: “The fans aren’t going to win you matches.”

VASSA: “Maybe in a no disqualification match…”

CASWELL: “Just stop right there.”

Standing in the center of the ring, the official look to Issac in his corner, standing still with his eyes locked on Daniels on the other side. Slowly nodding, Issac gives the official the signal, seeming angry from Maddox’s actions earlier in the night. Looking to Daniels, the official doesn’t have to wait long before getting the okay. With both men ready, the official slowly raises his hand into the air to call for the bell.

VASSA: “What the hell is this?!”

The arena erupts with boos as Maddox Lucien walks out from the back, still dressed in identical wrestling gear as Issac. Everyone in the ring turns their attention to the top of the ramp where Maddox stands with a smile on his face. Maddox then proceeds to walk down the ramp. Shrugging his shoulders, the official then calls for the bell, ignoring Maddox.


CASWELL: “The ref may have called for the bell but both Issac and Keith have their eyes set on Maddox making a fool of himself again.”

VASSA: “I can’t believe he’s still dressed like that. What is wrong with this guy?!”

With his back turned to rest of the ring, Issac leans over the top rope and begins mouthing off to Maddox as he makes his way to the bottom of the ramp.

CASWELL: “I take that back!”

Rushing in behind Issac, Daniels hits him in the back with a forearm shot. With Issac draped over the top rope, Daniels then unloads with a series of lefts and rights, pounding away at Issac’s ribs. Wrapping Issac up around the waist, Daniels drags him away from the ropes and then lifts him into the air, dropping him on his head with a German suplex.

VASSA: “That’s why he’s out here! Maddox just wants to distract Issac.”

CASWELL: “Thank you for stating the obvious!”

On his feet, Daniels stands over Issac and then begins stomping wildly onto his shoulder. Jumping on top of Issac, Daniels hits him with a hard right to the ride of the head, quickly following up with a left to the jaw. With Issac stunned underneath him, Daniels goes berserk with lefts and rights, beating Issac senseless with each vicious blow. Pushing himself away, Daniels stands tall and pulls Issac up as well. Wrapping the big man up, Daniels goes to lift him for a belly to belly suplex but catches an elbow to the side of the head instead.

CASWELL: “Right in the ear!”

VASSA: “That hurt me just watching.”

Pushing Daniels away, Issac then steps in and slaps him across the chest with an open hand chop. The crowd pops at the sound of the flash slapping contact and repeats as Issac hits him with another and another. Stepping in, Issac lifts Daniels off his feet and onto his shoulders, dropping him with a Samoan drop.

VASSA: “Pay attention Maddox! That’s how you do it!”

CASWELL: “That’s exactly how Maddox did it.”

Up to his feet, Issac pulls Keith up from the mat and then locks his arm around his head. Grabbing the back of Keith’s shorts, Issac then lifts him into the air and falls backwards, dropping him to the canvas with a vertical suplex. Keith’s body bounces on the mat with a thud as the crowd roars for Issac. On the outside of the ring, Maddox begins yelling to Issac, begging for his attention.

VASSA: “Maddox begging like Keith Sweat on the outside.”

Ignoring Maddox, Issac keeps his focus on Keith and grabs him by the arm, jerking him up to his feet. Locking onto Keith’s wrist, Issac whips him to the far corner. Just as Keith crashes against the corner, Issac takes off and charges directly for him, hitting him in the face with a running forearm smash. Lifting Keith into the air, Issac sits him on top of the corner and then climbs to the middle rope. Wrapping his arms around Keith, Issac then takes him back down to the mat with a belly to belly suplex from the top.

CASWELL: “I thought they were going to bust through the canvas with that.”

VASSA: “Issac is a big boy but that ring is sturdy.”

CASWELL: “If you say so, Vin.”

As Issac climbs to his feet, Maddox begins slamming his fists down onto the apron, grabbing his attention. Irritated, Issac then walks to the ropes and begins yelling to Maddox as he points his index finger in his direction. Furious, Maddox then climbs onto the apron and the two begin exchanging heated words. Racing over, the official wedges himself between Issac and the ropes, demanding Maddox to step down from the apron. While the argument continues, Daniels slowly gets back to his feet and sets his sights on the situation at hand. A smile comes to his face before he charges Issac and plants his fist directly into the back of his head. Issac stumbles forward into the official as the official hits the ropes and Maddox, sending Maddox flying off the apron and crashing down to the floor below.

VASSA: “That’s one way to maintain order in the ring.”

CASWELL: “I’m surprised the official is still standing. These guys normally pass out after any slight indication of contact.”

Grabbing onto Issac’s shoulder, Keith spins him around and then lands a vicious right to the chops. Locking onto Issac’s wrist, Keith then whips him to the ropes behind him. As Issac comes back on the rebound, Keith takes off and meets him in the center of the ring, leveling him with a spear.

CASWELL: “Come on Issac! You could be a goddamn offensive lineman and you’re going to let him take you down that easily?”

Pacing the ring, Daniels draws a negative reaction from the fans, but a positive one from Maddox who cheers him on from the outside.

VASSA: “Jesus, he’s still around?”

Turning his attention to Issac, Daniels walks over and pulls him up from the mat. Holding him up with his left hand, Keith then unloads with back to back rights, smashing his fist across Issac’s face. He then follows up with a kick to the stomach, forcing the big man to lunge over as the breath escapes his lungs. Stepping in beside him, Keith then lifts him up and throws him back to the mat with a pump-handle slam.

CASWELL: “Issac isn’t light by any means but Keith made that look easy.”

Turning to the corner, Keith rushes over and climbs to the middle ropes. He then leaps towards Issac, coming down with an elbow drop aimed straight for his head.


Crashing hard to the canvas, Keith misses the elbow drop as Issac rolls out of the way. The two then race to get back to their feet, Issac standing first. Rushing in, Issac lifts his knee and drives it into Keith’s face, knocking him flat on his back. He then pulls Keith up from the mat and lifts him into a fireman’s carry before dropping him head first to the canvas with a death valley driver.

VASSA: “Issac is turning things around!”

CASWELL: “And there’s Maddox again, screaming for some attention.”

Ignoring Maddox on the outside, Issac makes the cover and goes for the pin as the official drops in with the count.





VASSA: “What the hell?!”

Stopping his hand before the two count, the official looks up and spots Maddox on the apron once more, this time in the process of climbing through the ropes. Popping to his feet in an instant, the official races over and stops Maddox before he can enter the ring. Looking up in anger, Issac shakes his head back and forth, furious with the outside interference. He then pushes himself up and marches towards Maddox standing on the apron.

Grabbing the official, Issac pulls him out of the way and then lunges forward, swinging for Maddox’s head. Ducking, Maddox avoids the shot to the head as Issac’s hand flies over. Standing straight up, Maddox then swings over the top rope and slaps Issac in the mouth, and the entire arena boos at the sight. The two the tie up over the top rope. Trying to pry himself between the two, the official tries to break up the two but simply just can’t.

Meanwhile, Keith begins to push himself up and once he makes it to one knee, he looks across the ring and begins laughing. Standing tall, Keith continues to watch Issac and Lucien struggle with one another. He then takes off and dives forward, driving his shoulder into the back of Issac’s knee. Issac’s leg gives out from under him and as it does, Maddox rips himself away, leaving Issac with nothing to hold onto as he crashes to the mat.

CASWELL: “That’s one way to take a large opponent down to the ground.”

VASSA: “That was a dirty shot and you know it!”

CASWELL: “I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

Dropping down to the floor, Maddox looks on with a smile on his face as Issac rolls back and forth on the mat, holding his knee from the attack. Pushing himself up, Daniels looks down at Issac with a smirk before looking up to the crowd and shrugging his shoulders. He then reaches down and pulls Issac up from the mat and then lifts him onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Carrying the big man to the center of the ring, Keith then transitions the fireman’s carry into a brainbuster!


CASWELL: “There it is ladies and gents!”

VASSA: “That was just dirty!”

CASWELL: “No, that was the Final Verdict and this one looks to be over!”

Crawling over Issac, Daniels goes to seal the deal with the pin as the official slides in for the count.








CASWELL: “This one is in the books!”

VASSA: “This match shouldn’t have ended like this.”

CASWELL: “It doesn’t matter if it should or shouldn’t have, it DID end like this.”

“Blow It Out” hits the speakers as Keith rises to his feet and the official raises his arm into the air.



Pulling his arm away from the official, Keith walks to the other side of the ring and hops onto the second rope in the corner. Overlooking the crowd, he throws his arms into the air for a short moment before lowering them. With a cocky look in his eyes, Keith hops down from the corner and then turns to face Issac who is still down and out.

VASSA: “Well that’s all the time we have for tonight folks. We’re just one week away now before it’s time to Ante Up!”

CASWELL: “You heard the man. In one week we’ll be right back here in Las Vegas with the show you’ve all been waiting for.”

VASSA: “It’s going to be one hell of a night. We have some really great matches lined up for you all.”

CASWELL: “Let’s not forget that both Adrenaline and Uprising will be at this event, and Adrenaline is going to steal the show just like we all know they will.”

VASSA: “Is there any doubt that Adrenaline wouldn’t?”

CASWELL: “My point exactly.”

VASSA: “That’s a wrap! We’ll see you all next week.”

CASWELL: “You all take it easy. I’m Adrian Caswell, sighing off!”

VASSA: “And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good night!”