ADRENALINE E51 (082)


ADRENALINE E51 AUGUST 24TH, 2016
X-CEL ENERGY ARENA SAINT PAUL, MN

PRE-SHOW
AXLE AOMORI VS. JOHNNY EVIL

What started out as a slow match, quickly turned into a high speed slaughter by the hands of Johnny Evil. Mid-match Evil set the tone with a jumping DDT, which ultimately led to Axle’s hopes disappearing into a downward spiral. Move after move, Evil wore Axle down before sealing his fate with a superman punch that knocked him into the ropes and back into a double knee face breaker! Refusing to end the match right then and there, Evil took it upon himself to punish Axle even more by knocking him unconscious with his Lobotomy (Top Rope Brainbuster onto the turnbuckle). After dragging Axle to the center of the ring, the official made the three count, giving Evil the win in his 4CW in-ring debut.

The scene opens to an overhead shot from inside of the X-Cel Energy Arena in Saint Paul, Minnesota. The house is packed as far as the eye can see as the anxious fans await the start of the show. At the entrance stage, pyro begins shooting into the air as the camera switches angles to catch a glimpse from the entrance ramp. As the sparks erupt on both sides of the ramp where it joins the stage, the camera focuses on the newly redesigned Adrenaline logo. Slowly turning to the direction of the ring, the camera scans the arena as the electric fans in attendance scream in excitement. Looking into the crowd, the camera locks in on various signs mixed in the chaos.

EVERYTHING DIES
INCLUDING OMERTA

4CW
VERSUS
EVERYBODY

THIS NEW
ERA SUCKS

KIDNAPPING CAPITAL
OF THE WORLD!!!

Changing angles to ringside, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa sit at the booth, ready for tonight’s fifty-first episode of Adrenaline.

JOHNSON: “Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to another action packed night of Adrenaline!”

VASSA: “The fifty-first action packed night I’d like to add!”

JOHNSON: “Fifty-one and plenty more to come! I’m your host, Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: “And I’m Vinny Vassa! What up folks!”

JOHNSON: “Just two weeks ago we had a historic night in 4CW as we reached fifty episodes of Adrenaline!”

VASSA: “It was a huge night for us and our new network provider in North America.”

JOHNSON: “That’s right! 4CW is now exclusively aired on Showtime in North America and boy did its first showing rake in some monumental ratings for 4CW, the highest we’ve ever had in our near three year life.”

VASSA: “A lot of people had their doubts when the announcement was made that we’d be switching networks but the numbers don’t lie. Our first night on Showtime was a huge success, bringing in just under three million viewers.”

JOHNSON: “Those numbers were record breaking for us here in 4CW and that was only the first airing on Showtime. I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us on our new home network.”

VASSA: “Word on the street is that Showtime also picked up a lot of subscribers with this transition. That alone is proof that 4CW fans will do whatever needs to be done to catch the action in the comfort of their homes.”

JOHNSON: “Tonight we have the second dose, as Adrenaline Fifty-One comes to you all live from X-Cel Energy Arena in Saint Paul, Minnesota!”

VASSA: “We have a stacked deck from top to bottom! You fans don’t want to miss a single second of the action lined up for tonight.”

JOHNSON: “I couldn’t have said it better myself. With that, we’re going to cut backstage momentarily as we gear up for our opening match of the evening.”

VASSA: “Sit tight folks, we’ll be right back here at ringside before you know it!”

The camera goes backstage and peers into a locker room. Sitting on a bench in the room is Keith Daniels. His face seems expressionless as he stares down at his phone. It’s a nice phone. It’s probably better than your phone. That’s just math. So he’s staring at the phone and taps the touchscreen. As he does, a voice comes out of the speaker.

CLEMMENS: Hey, It’s Shane. Got some bad news from the doctor. Not cleared to wrestle. Looking at a couple more appointments in the next couple weeks to see where I’m at. Till I return, give ’em hell. Peace man.

DANIELS: Fuck!

Daniels stands suddenly and slams his fist into the locker placing a sizable dent into the thing. He looks down at the phone again and taps the button again.

CLEMMENS: Hey, It’s Shane. Got some bad news from–

VOICE: Well hello there.

Daniels taps the phone screen again cutting Shane’s words short.

DANIELS: What!?

Daniels turns around to eye the source of the voice but he stops. He face twists in confusion as he looks at the nonchalant figure of Sativa Nevaeh standing in the doorway.

NEVAEH: That’s not very nice you know.

Sativa smiles in such a way that you feel the chills flow down your spine. Keith Daniels, however, seems unfazed. Sativa then begins to idly examine the door frame.

NEVAEH: So forgive me for pryin’ but it sounds to me…

Sativa turns her attention to Keith and puts her finger in the center of her chest.

NEVAEH: Like you’re short on partners for this little tag thingy comin’ up. Now that’s not a tall joke mind you… Or is it? It might be. No, it’s definitely not.

Daniels continues to stare in mild confusion and entertainment as Sativa continues.

NEVAEH: See, I had this thing going, really good thing actually. Beards and boobs, right? I thought it was neat. Anyway, I no longer have a beard. Not like I had a beard myself, I was talking about… You know what I’m saying?

Daniels blinks.

DANIELS: Uh… You shaved your–

Sativa narrows her eyes. Daniels decides to stop his train of thought.

NEVAEH: I’m saying I’m short on tag partners myself. So you’re without a tag partner. You still want in on this fun. I’m without a tag partner. I still want in on this fun. It just makes sense, right? It seems like it makes sense.

Sativa’s face seems to go blank as she ponders the thought. She then nods with enthusiasm.

NEVAEH: It definitely makes sense. Howdy, partner!

Daniels looks at Sativa blankly for a few moments. To be honest, the silence is getting damn awkward.

DANIELS: You’re batshit aren’t you?

Sativa responds with a devilish grin as she twirls her hair. Daniels nods in approval.

DANIELS: I like it. Let’s do it.

NEVAEH: Sounds good! Ok, bye!

Sativa then disappeared from the door as quickly as she appeared. Daniels looks down at the floor and ponders the situation.

DANIELS: That did just happen, right?

The scene fades.

JOHNSON: “Well that’s an interesting pair right there.”

VASSA: “It’s a little odd to say the least.”

JOHNSON: “What concerns me is that voicemail Keith received from Shane Clemmens.”

VASSA: “Unable to compete, what the fuck?!”

JOHNSON: “I hope management is aware, he and Cashe were supposed to be our opening match for the night.”

VASSA: “No shit, right? What now?”

JOHNSON: “We’ll just have to see what happens. With the stacked lineup we have for tonight, we should be able to roll on without any hiccups.”

VASSA: “But what about Cashe’s openers?!”

JOHNSON: “Maybe he’ll wrestle himself if he still wants it for tonight. Either way, Shane Clemmens apparently will not be in action tonight.”

VASSA: “What a drag…”

In a corridor backstage we find the Arizona Assassin, Adrian Tanner Junior stretching out for his “main show” debut. He has on his ring gear and entrance jacket, and a pair of headphones in his ears, bobbing his head to the beat of the song as he does his warmup routine.

TANNER: “I’m the motherfucking greatest

I feel like Muhammad Ali, down goes Frazier

I’m the motherfucking greatest

I feel like Jordan in his prime, I feel like Magic Johnson 1980 Lakers”

The singing again. He enjoys singing, deal with it.

TANNER: “I’m the motherfucking greatest

Rap game Tony Hawk, I been on the roll like a skater

I’m the motherfucking greatest

Used to be a legend in the making, now I’m feeling like the greatest”

The singing stops once he notices the camera, headphones are pulled out as he waves.

TANNER: “4CDub! What’s up? Hi, I’m Adrian Tanner, and welcome to the Adrian Tanner Show. Or what will soon be the Adrian Tanner show at least, yknow, once I’ve won all your Championships.”

He grins.

TANNER: “I wish my TV debut were to come under better circumstances, as in having an opponent who gave any sort of a shit about This Business, but what can ya do?”

A cardboard but cutout of a light bulb suddenly appears above our hero’s head.

TANNER: “Oh I know! I can wreck Jonny Bedlam’s shit for being a disrespectful bag of dicks.”

A direct stare into the camera, an angry yet confident smirk on his lips as he cracks his knuckles.

TANNER: “Okay, so I’m a little more annoyed by this than I let on in the promotional. But the time for retribution is almost here, and then I can quickly move onto something- and someone- more meaningful and important.”

Before he can say anything else, our hero’s cell phone beeps. He grabs it out of his bag and the camera zooms in on the word ”EVIL” on the caller screen.

TANNER: “Speaking of important things, I should probably take this.

Jonny Bedlam, die in a fire. Or better yet, wait a few minutes and I’ll do it for you.

Later folks!”

The Arizona Assassin gives an over exaggerated wave and thumbs up to the camera before hitting redial on his phone and walking down the hall as we cut elsewhere.

The camera opens up and we can see Alexander Hayes sitting on a chair looking at the camera. He is in a blazer, t-shirt and pair of jeans. The t-shirt can be seen displaying the initials 4CW on it. The camera zooms in and Alexander smiles as his pearly whites start to show. He cracks his neck before he speaks.

HAYES: “Hello 4CW, how is everyone out there in TV land tonight!? You are probably wondering why I’m here after I said I would retire from wrestling. That’s obvious. I love the sport, and I love everything about it. However, there is one thing that I can not live down, and that’s the fact I have yet to capture a top prize in any company. I’ve been a midcarder as long as I can remember, because I’ve always let those naysayers tell me that I couldn’t do it. I’ve let people get into my head that shouldn’t, and therefore, I’ve become the underdog, which is fine because I’ve grown to love it. It just goes to prove that not everyone has to win every single night when they go out there to make a name for yourself. All you have to do is prove that you have the spirit of a warrior and people will like you.”

Alexander becomes stern for a moment and very thoughtful as his head turns to the left and then to the right. He places his thumb and index finger between his chin and begins to scratch it. His lips curl up in between his teeth. He begins to shake his head as he turns his attention back to the camera.

HAYES: “That was the past though. This is now. I’ve become the underdog because I’ve become so close to winning those big matches, matches that people thought I would lose within the first three seconds. I’ve proven that I can hang and yet I’m still falling short of that one magical moment, of that one win that pushes me over the top and into the spotlight. I’m here in 4CW to prove that I belong with the best. I’m here in 4CW to prove that I’m the number one talent. And most of all, I’m here in 4CW to win the top prize which is the 4CW heavyweight championship. Jair Hopkins, you’re the big dog in the house and I’m coming after you. But first, there is this thing called starting at the bottom and working my way to the top. It’s going to be one hell of a ride, and I’m proud to take that ride. And I’m proud to be part of 4CW!”

The camera shuts off just as Alexander Hayes gets up out of his chair and walks off.

VASSA: “After hearing Keith Daniels we now know that Jason Cashe will NOT be taking on Shane Clemmens. Disappointed doesn’t cover the emotion I’m feeling here Johnson!”

JOHNSON: “I’d imagine that neither Cashe nor Clemmens are too happy about it either. Two men who have had a long standing respect for one another not getting the chance to face off. Disappointment all around.”

VASA: “Who would have won though? I mean this isn’t two thousand five or six, this isn’t PCW, this is 4CW and Jason Cashe isn’t some green thumbed noob!”

JOHNSON: “Neither is Shane Clemmens. Both men have a long history of being successful and well known in this business. I guess we move on to the nex–“

“Harder than the rest and

if they got a Problem with me

they can Aim it at My Chest

And I’ma Go….

Send it through the Wire

Tell em if they, they ready

Aim… FIRE!”

The chorus to Kutt Calhoun’s “Shooting Gallery” plays and the live audience in the X-Cel Energy Arena stands to their feet. From the back comes Jason Cashe who previously hadn’t use theme music but tonight he felt the need. The crowd mostly with cheers also had their booing about them for the “Troubled1”. Standing at the edge of the entrance ramp, he stops. Closing his eyes he tilts his head back and inhales deeply through his nose. As if smelling something in the air.

VASSA: “What a guy! Coming out to the ring to give BACK to these fans who came to see a Jason Cashe Opener!”

JOHNSON: “Not too many want to make Openers a thing of much importance and somehow Jason Cashe has done that to a certain level. What’s he doing out here though?”

His eyes still closed, he lets the music fill through him. Hyping himself up with that and the noise of the fans his head rocks, bounces slightly. Eyes opening, he steps forward down the ramp. At ringside where the camera usually comes in close for his “Raaaah” moment, he turns away from the cameras. Heads to the stairs and climbs up them and onto the ring apron. Dipping through the ropes, Mike Powers offers up a microphone from outside the ring. Taking it, Jason Cashe stares down at the canvas before placing the mic to mouth.

CASHE: “The craving I have to want to compete in this ring…”

Letting the microphone drop. He almost struggles with himself to continue. Like he is being affected or bothered about something.

CASHE: “You can see the pain in my eyes as I wait between matches. What it does to me and why I don’t give a fuck if I live or die in here. In this ring I’ma paint this world a portrayed of my mind. One individual at a time and sometimes that picture sees me laid out. That’s alright. That’s lessons learned and tonight was suppose to be a round two.

Shane Clemmens was someone I have BEEN wanting a rematch with and I’ve waited for years for this moment. So what is this now? Riddle, CJ, and now Clemmens. Can I get a big name FULL of hype that actually shows up? I mean what the fuck will it take? As a Champion you must move in the direction of the Title, fight the Challengers appointed to you. Without gold around my waist I have lined up, become involved with names that I hadn’t had the pleasure of facing before. Or like tonight the rematch I’ve looked forward to hopefully having. I can’t seem to catch a break.

Where is the challenge? Who really thought I was in jeopardy when I stepped in the Cage with Cyrus Riddle? That went from a threat, a rivalry to a fucking joke standing across from me. Someone who moved onto kidnapping a bitch NOBODY cares about! Shit that ain’t got SHIT to do with what happens in THIS ring!”

Giving him a round of applause, Cashe smiles as he stares out at those who paid money to BE HERE. To watch 4CW unfold at every turn not just when they want to peek in from time to time. Real fans of the game. Not wisdom attempting SMARKS. Fuck them as a whole.

CASHE: “Who has even heard from CJ O’Donnell since the match with me was first booked? I mean think about it. HOW hard is it to shut CJ O’Donnell up? I did the Wrestling community a favor! All the while seeking, HOPING for the chance to be in here with someone of value. So now I move past tonight trying to find the next name. Every show it can be someone new, someone old or someone I’ve not seen coming. Maybe that other “Kash” same name, different spelling will get the attention he has been BEGGING for!”

The crowd wanting to mock Randall with the original “Cashe” being in the ring, they begin chanting “Kaish”.

CASHE: “Heh. Not just him but we have PLENTY of talent on this roster. Names I don’t recognize but have seen put in work since being here. Elijah being one up on the top part of anyone’s list. A name to pay attention too. JPD, hell even Lord Raab has returned to Adrenaline. So I won’t be a name that leaves to find greener pastures. No, this to me is home.”

Even as the fans give their approval, Cashe didn’t give them time to continue to cheer. He kept going.

CASHE: “That doesn’t EVER mean I will like Perry Wallace. Fuck that punk. Fuck his bitch while we’re at it! Fuck his Royal Posse as a whole and ANY of them can come down right now or see me backstage if you want to argue that point. I’m ready to go now or an hour from now. I wish to GAWD that I had a match tonight but the night is young. The night is vulnerable and ripe so I have plenty of time to find trouble. To find someone to put my hands on!”

JOHNSON: “Is he out here to just talk? Is there a point to this?”

VASSA: “Shut up! I wanna hear this…”

CASHE: “When I turned on Team 4CW at HOW’s Wargames, it wasn’t really a shot at 4CW. I helped build this place! I took shots at the things I knew were coming. The things that are hated about 4CW RIGHT NOW! But here I am and in this ring, I am a dog with one of the biggest bites and barks on this roster. If this Planet was a bitch I’d stick my dick in the dirt so it knows I was there! I’m here to take and break. I can either take a win from you or break you as you fall short of that achievement. So let me mark my territory…”

Almost skipping to the side of the ring nearest to the Entrance Ramp. Cashe quickly drops and rolls to the outside. Standing in the exact place where the ramp becomes ring side, Cashe reaches down in his wrestling gear and pulls out his dick. The fans gasp as it appears on the big screens.

VASSA: “That’s his penis! What is he doing!?”

Urine begins to flow and with it he “draws” a line. Now EVERYONE will have to step over that line in order to get in the ring.

JOHNSON: “He’s marking his territory like he said! Look at all the camera flashes!! Hahaha! Someone post it on Twitter!!”

Doing a shake to free himself of all drips of urine, Cashe returns his junk into his pants. Putting the mic back to his mouth, he points along the line of piss on the ground.

CASHE: “Get use to me PISSING on the competition because the time when it was MY name on the throne, at the top? That shit is coming back and it WILL be earned and all will learn the lesson of a Troubled Influence… RRRAAAAH! Get at it motherfuckers because I’m lighting this bitch up. LET’S GO!”

Flinging the mic, it goes head over feet before landing near the ring. Stepping over the line of spreading out piss, Cashe heads to the back.

POWERS: “Ladies and Gentlemen…. JAAASSSOOON CAAAASHHHE!”

Hot with celebration, the live audience was hyped for the night. Minnesota was excited. As Cashe proceeds to the back, the ringside crew quickly begins wiping away the yellow liquid which flowed from Cashe.

We’re backstage at the X-Cel Energy Arena, the 4CW crowd already loving the show so far! Bryan Williams comes into frame, almost ready for his upcoming match with Keith Daniels. His gear is on, and he’s even wearing a “Bulletproof” t-shirt. The crowd seems happy to see him, but Bryan seems a bit distracted by his phone. He’s texting away with someone, and by the look on his face it seems to be with his fiancee. His fingers stop typing on the screen as he brings the phone up to his face. Soon enough he’s deep in a conversation…

WILLIAMS: “…I’m telling you that you should really be here instead of the hotel … Yeah, I know … So what if Cashe is here, you don’t have to worry about him … I agree, his smell is very off putting …”

Bryan takes notice of the cameras, finally, but unfortunately also notices another approaching presence. His face sours as Jason Cashe walks into frame, the crowd responding positively for this upcoming interaction. The conversation seems to be dwindling away now, as Bryan grows quiet.

WILLIAMS: “…Speak of the devil, I’m gonna have to go now.”

CASHE: ”Where you going Williams? I just got here don’t leave just yet!”

Pointing a finger into William’s chest it causes Bryan to look down. Part of him assuming Cashe would comment on the shirt he was wearing. Yet as he looks down, Cashe does the immature game where you run your finger up someone’s chest. Childish nature comes natural to Jason Cashe.

CASHE: ”Nice shirt! Where can I buy one?”

Still rubbing his nose, Bryan appears to be annoyed already.

WILLIAMS: “I let you do that. Also you can’t, I don’t think. Maybe on ebay…”

The air grows quiet as both men stand there, silent. Tensions rising, Cashe grinning as Bryan grows more and more annoyed by his being there.

WILLIAMS: “Did you need something? Come to be a pain in my ass I’m guessing?”

CASHE: ”Oh look here! I’ve got one of those GOOD guessing partners now! Lucky me! So have we decided on a superstar Team Name? I was thinking like “Cashe and The Guy” has a ring to it, yeah?”

WILLIAMS: “They all can’t be winners, I guess. Hey, speaking of, you do realize that Bad Company is approaching quickly. Gonna need you to be completely focused here.”

Placing a hand on Williams left shoulder, Cashe removes the playful banter from his grin and actions.

CASHE: ”I will be fine! We will be solid!! It wouldn’t matter if it was JPD and his wife. It doesn’t matter if they cloned you and Art Of War returned. You and me will handle whatever comes in our path. Simple as that. Let me do me and you… Well you do whatever it is that you do. Mmmkay?”

Smiling, Bryan removes Jason’s hand from his shoulder. The two stand face to face, as Bryan speaks.

WILLIAMS: “What I do is win, I don’t know if you remember last year but I knocked you and your buddy out of the tournament. You want to get paid, right? We get on the same page and you’ll be rolling in the money, believe me.”

CASHE: ”You beat Shadow who was as dumb as he was big. Plus you had Aidan and that alone gave you a few wins. Double Moonsault HELLO! Also since we’re pointing out where we need to be heading into this. How are you holding up? You’ve got Drew Stevenson on Friday right? Keith Daniels tonight. I mean… You worry about MY focus but let’s talk about how much energy you might not have come Bad Company?”

Cashe certainly had a point, but Bryan was way too annoyed to even acknowledge it. He sighed, rubbing his temple as he closed his eyes.

WILLIAMS: “Yeah, I’m a bit busy this week, but I know what we need to do. I’ll take care of KD tonight, take care of Stevenson in a couple of days, and then my schedule is free. You really think I don’t know what is at stake here?”

CASHE: ”There’s steak? Shit I could use a year supply for sure… I didn’t know that was part of the reward!? Wow. Kudos to Perry Wallace!”

The only one laughing is Cashe because he was being very selective hearing when Williams was talking. Often Cashe could tune any voice into the sound of Charlie Brown’s Teachers. Wha Wah Wah Wah. Williams just stared blankly at his partner.

WILLIAMS: “Look, it’s like this … We only have to put up with each other for a little while longer. We’ll make some money, it’ll be fun and all that. After Bad Company we can tear into each other then, you’ll only have to put up with me for so much longer. Lord knows I’m counting the days down right now.”

The two stand there again, tensions still mounting. Bryan rolls his eyes, trying to leave the scene. Before he can Cashe reaches out, grabbing his arm. Bryan looks down, Jason Cashe is not in a playing mood anymore.

WILLIAMS: “Cashe, if you don’t let go-”

CASHE: ”You’ll what? I wish you’d welcome the start of this alliance with giving me the opportunity and cause to slap the taste of Troy out of your mouth!”

Listening closely you’d swear you could hear the crowd “Ooooh”ing in response, Bryan stands there like he just got slapped in the face. Standing up straight, and looking passed Cashe, Bryan removes his hand from his arm.

WILLIAMS: “Alright Jason, you got what you wanted. I want you to watch my match, and realize what you’re getting yourself into.”

With that, Bryan walks off screen leaving Jason there with the last word.

CASHE: ”It bothers me he wears such small underwears to wrestle… “

Shaking his head, Cashe turns and leaves the scene.

OPENING MATCH
JONNY BEDLAM VS. ADRIAN TANNER JR.

VASSA: “Alrighty, time for another match!”

JOHNSON: “Yes indeed, these two competitors showed great strides last week on the pre-show. Adrian Tanner and Jonny Bedlam both picked up victories, now they find themselves on the main show!”

VASSA: “Adrian Tanner certainly has an odd way of doing things. He really likes pointing his finger at something, and going bang.”

JOHNSON: “Yeah, I don’t really know either…”

The opening riffs of “Missing Link” by Dinosaur Jr featuring Del Tha Funkee Homosapien hit and as Del begins to spit rhymes, Bedlam appears at the entry point and has the hood of his sweatshirt up, he walks very purposefully to the ring and rolls quickly under the rope.

POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall! Coming to the ring first, from Dallas, Texas … JONNY BBEEDDLLAAMM!!!”

When in the ring, he lowers the hood of his sweatshirt and stares crazily at the crowd, moving in a circle. He then pounds one side of his chest with one fist, then the other side with the other fist. Then he points both index fingers upwards and pumps his arms up and down a few times. On the last pump he lets his arms fall horizontally and looks upward. After this, he removes his hoodie and tosses it out of the ring.

JOHNSON: “Jonny Bedlam looking real focused for this match tonight.”

VASSA: “He’s on television now, I bet he’s just trying not to make an ass out of himself. We had almost three MILLION people watching us last show, just think about that. One wrong move and you’d be the laughing stock anywhere you go!”

JOHNSON: “I’m sure he’s trying to think positive, Vinny.”

VASSA: “He can think whatever he wants, but if he fucks up it’s going to be seen by a whole lot of people tonight.”

The house lights dim to black and spliced footage from Metal Gear Solid III appears on the screen.

REVOLVER OCELOT: ”Hold it right there, traitor. Let’s find out just how lucky you are.”

Ocelot reveals a bullet for his revolver. He loads the bullet.

OCELOT: ”Watch closely.”

Ocelot takes out two more revolvers.

OCELOT: ”One of these three guns has a single bullet in it. I’m going to pull the trigger six times in a row. Are you ready?”

Ocelot juggles the three guns. Each time he pulls a trigger, Sokolov winces. The fifth time a trigger is pulled, Sokolov pisses his pants.

OCELOT: ”Looks like your luck hasn’t run out yet.”

The sixth time, the gun fires and the screen shatters into a million pieces as “Bullet” by Genuflect booms through the speakers. Loud fireworks explode from the stage as the song kicks in and Adrian Tanner Jr stands in the middle of the stage, arms out to his side and head covered by the hood of his ring jacket. Red and white spotlights illuminate the stage as plays through the PA.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring next, hailing from Tucson, Arizona … He is The Arizona Assassin, the Surgeon General of Santa Monica, ADRIAN TANNER JJUUNNIIOORR!!!”

The red spotlights make a circle through the crowd while the white spotlights pulse in tune with the music for a very dizzying effect, as the Arizona Assassin makes his way down the ramp. He walks down the ramp towards the ring, slapping hands with a few fans before he pulls the jacket off as he slides under the ropes. He mounts the nearest turnbuckle and makes a gun motion with his left hand. He cocks the “guns”, “fires” then jumps down and begins his pre-match warmup.

VASSA: “What do you think the crowd really likes about this guy?”

JOHNSON: “What do you mean?”

VASSA: “They seem to really enjoy him, something offputting about that.”

JOHNSON: “Well, what’s wrong with liking him? He’s confident, and isn’t a bad looking guy!”

VASSA: “Alright, I think I’m just going to move my chair a little bit. You fruit.”

JOHNSON: “Gee Vinny, I’m just trying to compliment the guy.”

VASSA: “Whatever, queer. Let’s get this match started!”

DING!!! DING!!!

The bell rings, and we are underway! Adrian Tanner and Jonny Bedlam stand in the ring, keeping to their corners for the moment. Adrian walks out towards the center of the ring, his face stoic as he stares towards his opponent. Bedlam meets him out in the middle of the ring, as the two lock up! Both men struggle for the advantage, Jonny Bedlam seeming like he is getting the better of the exchange. He pushes backward, causing Adrian Tanner to get closer and closer to the ropes. Suddenly, Adrian whips his opponent around and shoves him into the ropes! Bedlam wraps his arm around the top rope, causing Logan Whitby to step in. He tries to break the hold, but Adrian Tanner backs away from his opponent.

VASSA: “Jonny Bedlam trying to bully Adrian Tanner around the ring, don’t think it’s working out too well for him.”

JOHNSON: “Indeed it doesn’t, Adrian Tanner looks game here tonight!”

Jonny Bedlam charges towards Adrian, who grabs his opponent and takes him down with a hip toss! Bedlam springs to his feet, but Adrian Tanner is right there as he grabs him and whips him towards the ropes. Jonny Bedlam rushes back towards his opponent, ducking a clothesline attempt, catching Tanner with a dropkick on the rebound!

JOHNSON: “Jonny Bedlam catches Adrian Tanner with a wonderful dropkick!”

VASSA: “Looks like Bedlam finally decided to show up, time to keep it going!”

Tanner tries to get up, to cut off his opponent’s offense, but Bedlam catches him with a right hand. He stuns Tanner with another right hand, allowing Bedlam to dump him to the mat with a Judo Hip Toss! Tanner slams hard, but quickly rolls towards the outside of the ring. Jonny Bedlam follows, exiting the ring as well. Tanner recovers quickly enough, rushing back into the ring before his opponent can react. Bedlam follows again, but eats a Roaring Elbow as he enters the ring!

VASSA: “Smart move by Tanner there.”

JOHNSON: “Jonny Bedlam was just getting going, but Adrian Tanner picked his spot.”

VASSA: “That elbow had some zip on it too, I think Bedlam might be dazed right now.”

Adrian Tanner looks to be in control, waiting for his opponent to get back to his feet. Bedlam does, but is quickly pulled into an Exploder Suplex! Tanner tosses his opponent to the mat, quickly pouncing on him. He pulls his opponent back up to his feet, dropping him with another Roaring Elbow! Jonny Bedlam collapses to the mat, the crowd cheering Adrian Tanner on. He stands there, dominate, raising his arms high in the air.

JOHNSON: “It’s all Adrian Tanner right now!”

VASSA: “Jonny Bedlam is going to be in some serious trouble if he doesn’t try something else. You know, other than getting his face beat in.”

JOHNSON: “An exploder suplex and another hard elbow has this match in Adrian Tanner’s favor, at the moment.”

VASSA: “From the looks of it Adrian Tanner is about to wrap this thing up!”

With not much trouble from his opponent, it seems that Adrian Tanner is ready to end this match! He waits for his opponent to get up, slowly working his way into position. Bedlam rises, staggering, as Tanner grabs him and pulls him right into The Revolver! The Reverse STO slams Jonny Bedlam face first into the mat, allowing Tanner to easily cover him for the pin!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: “Wow! Just like that, Adrian Tanner puts this match away without breaking much of a sweat!”

VASSA: “Jonny Bedlam just seemed outclassed here tonight, it was all Adrian Tanner.”

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

POWERS: “Here is your winner, ADRIAN TANNER JJUUNNIIOORR!!!”

Adrian Tanner Jr stands triumphantly over his opponent, Jonny Bedlam, as “Bullet” begins to play in the background. Adrian brings his hand up, pointing a “gun” at the hard camera. With a smile he pulls the trigger, and winks.

JOHNSON: “A very confident Adrian Tanner here tonight, he took some shots early but waited for the right moment to strike back.”

VASSA: “Jonny Bedlam just didn’t look confident, Adrian Tanner wanted it more.”

JOHNSON: “Indeed he did, a resounding performance here tonight!”

“Find something! This is what I pay you for!” Opening up in the back office, Perry Wallace paces back and forth in a fit. Across the room, an unfamiliar gentlemen sits behind the desk with papers scattered across the top of it. Looking through the pages, the unknown keeps his head down and eyes locked below.

UNKNOWN: “If you would have let me structured this thing to begin with, all of them actually, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

The man says while picking up one piece of paper and holding it in front of his face, allowing the light from above to cast down upon it.

WALLACE: “Me? This is now a we situa–“

UNKNOWN: “Hold on, I got something.”

In an instant, Perry turns hit attention to the man, stopping in his tracks.

WALLACE: “What is it?! Tell me you have something that obligates Madison to compete in 4CW while being a current champion!”

Holding his free hand up, the man waves it back and forth, signaling for Perry to be quiet.

WALLACE: “Who the fuck?!”

Perry says as the irritation becomes more and more apparent in his tone.

WALLACE: “I’m the one paying you, I call the shots!”

A smile comes to the mans face before he cuts his eyes in Perry’s direction.

UNKNOWN: “While that may be true, I’m also the one you called to clean up your fucking mess. Have a drink and relax, I think we have something.”

UNDERCARD
BRYAN WILLIAMS VS. KEITH DANIELS

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

“Unsung” immediately begins to play, the heavy guitar riff and drums backing the intense sound ripping out towards the audience. The main riff starts, playing over and over as the lights turn down. Strobes going along to the beat of the song. Bryan walks out from the back, head held down low. The song continues to play, as Bryan stands on the top of the ramp. With his head down, Bryan holds up his right hand and extends his pointer finger. He holds it up momentarily, eventually beginning to walk down to the ring as the song continues.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at two hundred ten pounds and standing six feet, two inches tall! He is “Leviathan”, BRYAN WWIILLLLIIAAMMSS!!!”

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

POWERS: “And the opponent!”

Suddenly, the arena goes dark.

D1

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 DDAANNIIEELLSS!!!

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.

JOHNSON: “I don’t think you realize this ladies and gentlemen, but this match could very well steal the show tonight.”

VASSA: “I realized it.”

JOHNSON: “You’re just saying that, Vinny.”

VASSA: “No, I’m being dead serious right now. This won’t be the first time these two have met each other in the ring. It may be their first singles match but these two have history with gold in the mix.”

JOHNSON: “Well then, you surprised me there, Vinny.”

VASSA: “I’m just full or surprises! You may think you’re the brains of this operation Steve, but that may be changing in the near future.”

JOHNSON: “Don’t get ahead of yourself now!”

VASSA: “Trust me, I’m not. I’m just doing my job! Excuse me if that includes being the best play-by-play commentator in the business.”

JOHNSON: “Play-by-play isn’t even your forte.”

VASSA: “And color isn’t yours! Watch yourself old man before they replace you with Adrian.”

JOHNSON: “Jesus Christ Vinny! What’s your deal tonight?!”

VASSA: “Nothing, I’m just messing with you. I’m here to make the people watching laugh while you put them to sleep!”

As both men stand in their corners awaiting the start of the match, the official throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Not wasting a single second, both men step away from their corners and approach each other, stopping toe to toe in the center of the ring. They share a cold, silent stare between the two as the noise level from the crowd grows louder and louder. Holding both arms out to his side, Keith looks to Bryan with a cocky grin. After shaking his head back and forth, Bryan then lunges forward and connects with a solid right to Daniels’ jaw. Firing back with a punch of his own, Daniels tags Bryan. Kicking his foot up from the mat, Daniels aims it for Bryan’s stomach but gets stopped as Bryan catches it. While holding Keith’s foot, Bryan then kicks Keith’s other leg out from under him, dropping him back-first to the canvas. With his leg still elevated, Bryan then drops down and drives his elbow into Keith’s inner thigh.

Back on his feet, Bryan continues to hold Keith’s leg and drops down once more, driving another elbow into the same spot of Keith’s thigh. Standing again, Bryan still holds onto Keith’s leg and begins to drop a third time. Kicking his other foot up, Daniels plants it into Bryan’s chest, knocking him backwards and freeing his foot. As Williams stumbles backwards towards the ropes, Daniels quickly rolls over and pushes himself up. As he stands, Williams comes back on the rebound and levels him with a shoulder block.

JOHNSON: “Just when Keith gets a chance to stand, Bryan is right there to put him back on the mat.”

VASSA: “Williams was lucky to have those ropes not far behind him or else Daniels would be on his feet right now.”

Locking onto Keith’s wrist, Bryan pulls him up from the mat and then in for a short-arm clothesline. Ducking underneath Bryan’s arm, Keith steps in behind him and wraps both arms around his waist. Grabbing onto the Keith’s hands, Bryan tries to pry them apart while bracing himself. After a short struggle, Daniels drives Bryan forward and then throws him towards the ropes. Hitting the ropes chest first, Bryan falls backwards into a lariat from Keith to the back of the head, knocking him face down to the mat.

Standing tall over Bryan, Keith then begins stomping on his lower back multiple times before making his way beside his head. Grabbing onto Williams head with both hands, Keith lifts him up from the mat and holds him in place. Drawing back with his right hand, Keith slams his fist into Bryan’s face before pulling his head down into a Muay Thai Clutch. With Bryan’s head held down, Keith begins pounding his face with rapid knees. After connecting with half a dozen, Keith stands Bryan straight up and wraps him up with both arms. Lifting him off the mat, Keith then drives Bryan into the canvas with a belly to belly suplex.

VASSA: “Keith has shifted the momentum and Bryan is feeling every bit of that.”

JOHNSON: “If his ears aren’t ringing knees to his face, I bet his body is aching after that belly to belly suplex.”

VASSA: “I’m pretty sure it’s a mixture of both!”

Pushing himself up to one knee, Keith looks down to Bryan with a smirk on his face. Standing up, Keith turns to the nearby corner and slowly makes his way towards it. Climbing to the top, he surveys the crowd for a moment before turning around to face Williams as he rolls over to his back. Leaping from the top rope, Daniels comes down with both feet aimed directly for Bryan’s chest.

VASSA: “Keith is aerial!”

JOHNSON: “NNOOO!!!”

Rolling out of the way, Bryan avoids having keith land on him with the double foot stomp. Landing awkwardly on his feet, Daniel’s rolls forward and then back up to his feet. Looking over his shoulder, he locks his eyes on Bryan as he pushes himself up. Whipping around, Daniels charges towards Williams but as he closes in, Williams lunges forward and wraps him up around the waist. Driving his feet with each step, Williams pushes Keith backwards across the ring until slamming him into the corner. Locking onto the middle ropes with both hands, Williams then begins pulling himself forward, driving his shoulder into Keith’s stomach over and over.

Gasping for air, Keith drapes both arms across the top ropes. Standing straight up, Williams looks him in the eye before drawing back and slapping him across the mouth. Taking a step back, Williams then spins around and connects with a roundhouse kick, nearly taking Keith’s head off. Lifting him off his feet, Williams sits Keith on top of the corner and then climbs to the middle ropes. Swinging with his right, Bryan connects with a vicious forearm to Keith’s face. He then swings with his left and connects with another. Wrapping both arms around Keith, Williams then lifts him up and falls backwards, throwing him over his head with a belly to belly suplex.

JOHNSON: “Gravity wasn’t on Keith’s side right there!”

VASSA: “I hate gravity, she’s my arch nemesis.”

JOHNSON: “Just be glad that wasn’t you on top of the corner then.”

VASSA: “Have you looked at me lately? I highly doubt Bryan could even pick me up like that.”

JOHNSON: “You’re probably right. You would flatten him, no questions asked.”

VASSA: “Wow, way to be a dick!”

Rolling back and forth across the ring, Keith grunts loudly as the pain shoot throughout his entire body. Pulling himself up with the ropes, Williams brushes the hair out of his face before turning to Keith with a smile. Standing back, Williams watches as he pushes himself to an upright seated position and as he does, he takes off running in his direction. Closing in on Daniels, Williams kicks his leg up and plants his shin across Keith’s back. Locking onto his head, he then pulls Keith to his feet before locking his arm around his head and grabbing the back of his pants. In the blink of an eye, Williams then lifts him off the mat and over his head, dropping him once again to the mat with a snap suplex. Rolling over, Williams then hooks Keith’s leg for the pin as the official slides in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

Popping his shoulder up from the mat, Daniels breaks the officials count. Looking up to the official with disappointment in his eyes, Williams then pushes himself up and quickly grabs ahold of Keith, pulling him up as well. Locking onto his wrist, Williams then goes to whip him to the ropes but Keith reverses the throw and whips Bryan to the ropes instead. As Williams hits the ropes and comes back on the rebound, Daniels charges towards him and lunges waist high, wrapping Bryan up and laying him out in the center of the ring with a spear.

VASSA: “Not even twenty seconds ago Bryan was attempting to end this thing with a pin!”

JOHNSON: “Now Keith is back in charge. That just goes to show you how quickly the momentum can change.”

VASSA: “I think Keith is a little too exhausted to follow up on that spear.”

Pushing himself up to one knee, Keith stays down as he catches his breath. With Williams laid out and in no rush to get back up, Keith uses the time in his favor to recharge a bit. After a few short moments, Daniels then stands tall. Looking to the ropes to his right, he then takes off towards them and as he comes back on the rebound, Keith plants both feet into the side of Bryan’s head with a running dropkick. Back on his feet, he then pulls Bryan up before lifting him into the air and driving him into the mat with a pump-handle slam. Keith then makes the cover as the official races over with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

JOHNSON: “Bryan kicks out!”

VASSA: “Close but no cigar!”

Looking up to the official, Keith begins yelling obscenities before pushing himself up in anger. Stepping over Bryan, Keith backs the official towards the ropes, continuing the verbal assault in an attempt to intimidate him. Drawing his hand back, Keith then goes to take a swing for the ref but stops abruptly and quickly gives him a smile instead. Looking over his shoulder, he spots Bryan slowly pushing himself to his knees and waves the official off before turning around to face him. After making his way over, Keith grabs onto Bryan’s head with both hands and pulls him up to his feet. Keeping Bryan’s head pushed down, Keith drags him across the ring and then throws him head first into the top turnbuckle.

As Bryan’s face slams against the turnbuckle, his head bounces off, sending him stumbling backwards. Taking a step forward, Keith then lifts his foot high into the air and drives it into the back of Bryan’s head with a big boot. Falling forward, Bryan crashes into the corner once again. Grabbing Bryan’s head, Keith then pulls it away from the corner before slamming it forward, planting Bryan’s face into the turnbuckle. Pulling Bryan away from the corner, Keith then forces Bryan’s head between his legs and wraps both arms around his waist. Lifting Bryan into the air, Keith holds him up for a powerbomb.

VASSA: “Bryan’s about to go for one hell of a ride!”

JOHNSON: “Wait just a second!”

Before Keith can begin to slam Bryan down to the mat, Bryan begins laying hard rights into the side of Keith’s head. After connecting with nearly half a dozen, Bryan maneuvers himself out of Keith’s clutches and as he drops down, he wraps his arm around Keith’s head and plants it into the canvas with a DDT!

JOHNSON: “Bryan reverses the powerbomb attempt with a DDT!”

VASSA: “Holy shit, he didn’t even see it coming!”

Both men roll in opposite directions, neither in a hurry to get up but neither out of it completely. With Keith in a daze, Bryan gets the upperhand and pushes himself up first, standing back and taking a moment to catch his breath. As Keith gets to one knee, Bryan brushes the hair from his face and then swiftly slides in with a superkick underneath Keith’s jaw.

VASSA: “Jesus! Look at the spit fly from Keith’s mouth!”

JOHNSON: “Bryan didn’t even let him get to his feet before laying him out.”

VASSA: “Bryan’s not finished yet!”

Standing over keith’s fallen body, Bryan looks down at him as the cheers from the crowd grow louder and louder. Looking up to the crowd, Bryan seems a bit shocked at their reaction, but pleased to say the least. Turning his attention back to Keith, Bryan then pulls him up from the mat and locks his arm around his head before reaching around and grabbing the back of his pants. Lifting Keith off the mat, Bryan holds him upside-down in a vertical position before dropping him down with a brainbuster across his knee.

JOHNSON: “There’s the CTE!”

VASSA: “Holy hell, I don’t see him getting up from this.”

JOHNSON: “There’s the cover…”

Dropping down and covering Keith, Bryan hooks the leg as the official sweeps in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: “Bryan scores the win over one half of Untouchable.”

JOHNSON: “This is a huge win in his return to 4CW.”

“Unsung” hits the speakers as Bryan slowly stands to a warm welcoming of cheers from the fans in attendance. Looking over the crowd, a smile comes to his face as the official steps in beside him and raises his arm into the air.

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

POWERS: “Here is your winner, BRYAN WWIILLLLIIAAMMSS!!!”

Pulling his arm from the official, Bryan walks along the edge of the ropes, slowly nodding at the reaction received in his second match back in 4CW.

JOHNSON: “With two wins under his belt since returning, Bryan is building some momentum leading into Bad Company Two.”

VASSA: “Let’s just hope that he and Cashe can function together as a team. They weren’t exactly looking to partner up heading into this thing.”

JOHNSON: “Life is full of surprises and the pairing two weeks ago was one that shocked us all.”

VASSA: “I just hope Cashe doesn’t make his Thunder Buddy jealous by stealing her partner away.”

JOHNSON: “For a second there I thought you were going to say you hope Bryan doesn’t make her jealous by stealing Cashe away.”

VASSA: “I can’t think of anything else that would make him happier.”

The camera goes backstage here in the X-Cel Energy arena here in Saint Paul, Minnesota. Various 4CW stars and officials can be seen dashing off in different directions in the hectic craze that is a live broadcast of Adrenaline. The camera pans over near the catering table where 4CW XTV Champion Jason P. Davidson can be seen walking beside his personal assistant Brooke McQueen who is reading from a clipboard in her hands.

MCQUEEN: ”Aside from the teams of Bryan Williams & Jason Cashe along with the team of Elijah Carlson and Genevie we have five other teams. Kat Jones will be teaming with one of your opponents tonight Randall Kash. Your other opponent Lord Raab will be teaming with Samuel McPherson. Candice or Candy Turner with be teaming with Maddox Lucien. Adrian Tanner Jr. will be teaming with Johnny Evil and finally there is a mystery reversed team yet to be revealed. Rumors have it that Keith Daniels is one of the members of said team.”

J. DAVIDSON: ”Sounds like smooth sailing right to the finals. I want you to go ahead and get started on gathering footage of everyone in this damn tournament. I want to be able to start watching and studying tape by the time I leave the building tonight.”

Brooke nods her head and heads off to begin the task given her. Jason adjusts the XTV Championship belt on his right shoulder and his half of the 4CW World Tag Team Championship belts around his waist. Turning back towards the catering table Davidson begins to fix himself a cup of coffee when suddenly he hears someone call out towards him.

? ? ?: ”Hey… asshole!”

Jason P. Davidson raises his head looking around confused. After a moment, Johnny Evil steps out from around the corner still wearing his ring gear. The fans out in the arena erupted as Johnny Evil gives off a smirk. He takes a couple steps towards Davidson as Jason glares at him from from the catering table in anger. Johnny gives an upward nod of his head and then winks at JPD.

EVIL: ”I told you I was comin’ to Adrenaline to put these hands on you…”

The fans begin to ignite a chant from one end of the arena to the other as Johnny takes another couple calculated paces closer towards Davidson.

“YOU CAN DO IT! YOU CAN DO IT!”

“YOU CAN DO IT! YOU CAN DO IT!”

Once the audience dies down, Johnny continues close the gap between himself and Davidson. JPD rolls his eyes and sips at his coffee as Johnny locks eyes on him.

EVIL: ”I don’t care if you gotta’ defend titles, fight in tag team matches, get a colon cleanse or eat a box of Milk Dud’s outta’ Tara’s ass tonight. Before all that happens, I’m in your face…”

Johnny takes one final step forward until he’s practically standing chest to chest with JPD.

EVIL: ”…And I’m gonna’ hurt you!”

Davidson just stares back at Johnny and slurps at his coffee as loudly and obnoxiously as he possibly can. JPD lowers his cup and grins at Johnny who is all business.

J. DAVIDSON: ”You’re kidding, right? You think you can just waltz up to me backstage and step into my spotlight. Make a name for yourself by stepping up to the Perfect Vision of 4CW’s New Era? This coffee here in my hand? More relevant than you’ll ever be. The shit I talk later after finishing this coffee? Will be more of a challenge than you could ever hope to be. Go back to the end of the line with the rest of the misfit toys. I’m far too important to the stability of this company sully my hands pre-show punk asses like you.”

Jason P. Davidson turns around to walk away from Johnny but Johnny reaches out and grabs Davidson by the arm to spin him back around. As he spins on his heels Davidson tries to throw the cup of hot coffee right in Johnny’s face but Johnny sees it coming and ducks out of the way. Johnny rushes Davidson grabbing him by the waist and running him spine first into a nearby wall.

J.DAVIDSON: ”Owww!

Davidson raises his arm into the air and begins raining down repeated elbow shots to the neck and collarbone which cause Johnny to lose his grip. As Johnny staggers Davidson charges and levels him with a shot to the head with the XTV Championship belt.

J.DAVIDSON: ”You gonna kick my ass? You gonna hurt me Johnny, huh?!”

Davidson leans down and grabs a hold of Johnny by the hair and pulls him back up to his feet. Davidson walks Johnny back over towards the catering table and begins to run him face first through the food and other items on the table. Johnny gives Davidson a elbow to the mid-section making him break his hold. Johnny grabs a hold of Davidson by the hair and then slams him down head first onto the catering table.

EVIL: ”If that’s the best you got then you might as well kiss those 4CW Tag Team Championship belts goodbye!”

Johnny Evil charges and then spears Davidson hard sending both men up and over the catering table knocking it over onto the floor. Both men roll around on the floor wildly throwing right hands back and forth at each other until finally security rushes in and begins to pull the two men apart.

J.DAVIDSON: ”You’re a fucking dead man Evil! You just signed your goddamn death warrant putting your hands on me!”

EVIL: ”Just wait until next week I’m going to finish what I started and one of those tag team straps are coming home with Johnny Evil!”

The two men kick and try to fight their way back towards each other but more security enters the scene and both men and pulled down separate hallways as he head back out to ring for more action.

UNDERCARD
LAURYN WOLFE VS. KAT JONES

DING!!! DING!!!

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

“Cigarettes and tiny liquor bottles

Just what you’d expect inside her new Balenciaga

Vile romance, turned dreams into an empire

Self-made success now she rolls with Rockefellers”

With the lights dimmed downed, a lone spotlight shines down at the center of the stage as the mid-tempo alternative pop sound of Halsley’s “New Americana” plays throughout the venue. As the song’s pace picks up a bit and nears the chorus, a figure can be seen slowly making its way onto the stage. The lone figure then makes its way to where the spotlight was shinning at. As the person stands there, the lights all around come back on just as the chorus blares out…

“We are the new Americana

High on legal marijuana

Raised on Biggie and Nirvana

We are the new Americana”

With the lights bright, everyone can now see Lauryn Wolfe with her arm raised and her back towards them.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Seattle, Washington, weighing in at one hundred twenty-seven pounds and standing five feet, six inches tall! She is ‘Unabashedly Unrefined’… LAURYN WWOOLLFFEE”

Lauryn turns around and slowly surveys the crowd with a sly smirk across her face before making her way down to the ring. She completely ignores everyone, as she only has the ring in her main line of sight. As Lauryn reaches the ring, she slides in and scales the nearest turnbuckle once she gets up. Cupping her hands by her mouth, Lauryn howls out and then raises her hand up once more. With a more serious expression on her face, Lauryn looks around the venue once more before coming back down and leaning up against the turnbuckle, waiting for the match to get underway.

“Release me”

The two words from the Public Address system in the arena cause the fans in attendance, already on their feet, to react with disdain and unappreciative shouts.

POWERS: “And the opponent!”

Kat Jones, 4CW’s resident, badass Cincinnati native of ill repute methodically makes her way to the top of the ramp from the gorilla position. Her black shorts and knee high boots are more characterizing of her facial expression and attitude toward the scathing crowd, than her highly decorative top full of self expression.

“No remnants were ever found of it

Feeling the hot bile

With every fake smile

Though no evidence was ever found

It never went away completely”

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

POWERS: “Making her way to the ring, hailing from Cincinnati, Ohio, standing five feet, eight inches tall and weighing in at one hundred twenty four pounds, she is the “WildKat”… KAT JJOONNEESS!!!”

“I try to hide from the unholy sound of it

Another day gone

Another night’s dawn”

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

VASSA: “It’s been quite a wait but we finally get to see Lauryn Wolfe make her Adrenaline in-ring debut.”

JOHNSON: “She’s another one of the wrestlers who decided to stick with 4CW after the Uprising split following Ante Up.”

VASSA: “I don’t think this even has to be said but she made the right decision.”

JOHNSON: “She gets a handful tonight with Kat Jones, an Adrenaline veteran!”

VASSA: “For weeks leading up to Ante Up, Kat was singled out but when the time came, she proved just how devastating she can be in the ring when backed into a corner.”

JOHNSON: “She isn’t backed into any corners tonight but has momentum off a big match at Ante Up in her favor.”

VASSA: “Let’s just hope she doesn’t fall to the same fate as Eli.”

JOHNSON: “Eli suffered a few broken ribs by the hands of Lauryn but Kat is a ferocious package of dynamite.”

With both ladies ready to get things underway, the official throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

As if a fire were lit right under her, Kat explodes from her corner in a straight line towards Lauryn. Not waiting around, Lauryn rushes towards Kat and the two ladies collides in a fury of slaps and kicks. Planting her foot into Lauryn’s stomach, Kat then draws back and swings forward, bitch slapping her across the side of her face.

Spinning around, Kat pops her leg up from the mat for a heel kick but Lauryn catches it in mid-air. Placing her leg behind the one Kat stands on, Lauryn then pushes her backwards, tripping her in the process. Crashing against the mat, Kat quickly rolls over to her stomach and as she pushes herself up to all fours, Lauryn steps in and kicks her in the stomach, flipping Kat over to her back.

Relentlessly, Lauryn begins kicking Kat in the ribs over and over. She then turns to the ropes and as she comes back on the rebound, Lauryn jumps into the air and comes down with a knee drop onto Kat’s shoulder. Pulling Kat to her feet, Lauryn lays a couple of backhand chops across her chest before locking onto her head with both hands. Dropping down to a seated position, Lauryn pulls Kat’s chin onto the top of her head, nailing her with the sit-out jawbreaker.

VASSA: “Kat came straight out the gate with the attack but was just outsmarted by Lauryn.”

JOHNSON: “I wouldn’t quite say that she was outsmarted. Lauryn was just one step ahead of her to prevent that spinning heel kick.”

On her feet, Lauryn circles Kat for a brief moment before moving in. Pulling Kat up from the mat, Lauryn hooks her arm around Kat’s head and grabs the back of her tights. Lifting her in an instant, Lauryn flips Kat up and over, dropping her to the canvas with a snap suplex. With Kat down on her back, Lauryn quickly pops up and turns to the ropes once more. Coming back on the rebound, Lauryn leaps into the air, flipping forward and coming down with a running senton.

JOHNSON: “Uh-oh!”

VASSA: “Lauryn comes up empty handed!”

JOHNSON: “There’s a break for Kat! Now if she can only capitalize.”

Rolling over to her stomach, Lauryn remains down while recovering from the crash landing onto the mat. Climbing to her feet, Kat wastes no time and rushes in, jumping slightly off the mat and aiming both feet forward, planting them into the Lauryn’s head with a drop kick. Pulling Lauryn up from the mat, Kat spins her around to face the opposite direction and then lifts her into the air. Falling backwards, Kat slams Lauryn down with a belly to back suplex.

As Kat stands once again, she looks beside her to the sight of Lauryn getting up as well. Grabbing ahold of her head with one hand, Kat stands her straight up and then delivers a nasty backhand chop across her chest. Kicking her left leg up, Kat connects to the back of Lauryn’s knee, dropping her down to it in the process. Taking a few steps back, Kat then steps forward and connects with a superkick to Lauryn’s face, knocking her flat on her back.

VASSA: “Lauryn’s ears are going to be ringing after that superkick right between the eyes.”

JOHNSON: “Kat is feisty inside of the ropes. You let your guard down for one second and she’ll take advantage before you even know what hit you.”

Grabbing onto Lauryn’s wrist, Kat then pulls her up to her feet. Ducking down, Kat wraps her up around the waist and as she goes to lift her for the northern lights suplex, Lauryn retaliates with a knee to Kat’s stomach. Pushing Kat’s head away from her body, Lauryn keeps a strong hold on it and then drops her to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker. Rolling over to her stomach, Lauryn then crawls on top of Kat and unloads with a fury of lefts and rights, pounding away at Kat’s head from both sides.

Standing up and over Kat’s body, Lauryn then reaches down and drags her up to her feet. Holding her in place with one hand, Lauryn then lunges forward with the other, hitting Kat in the chops with a European uppercut. Lunging forward again, Lauryn hits her with a second European uppercut. As Kat wobbles back and forth on her feet, Lauryn then spins around and levels her with a discus clothesline.

JOHNSON: “If I didn’t know any better I would think that Lauryn was more of a fighter than a wrestler.”

VASSA: “Fighting, wrestling… it’s all the same, isn’t it?”

JOHNSON: “Actually it isn’t, but with Lauryn you get the best of both worlds from what she’s putting on display for us tonight.”

VASSA: “She’s made it to the big stage and you only get one first impression!”

Standing to her feet, Lauryn pulls Kat up to hers and then positions herself behind her. Pulling Kat’s head back, Lauryn wraps her arm over her face and hooks it around her head. The crowd awaits her next move in silence as Lauryn then flips over, spinning around with Kat still in her clutches, and driving her face into the mat with a rolling cutter.

VASSA: “Damn, she made that look easy!”

JOHNSON: “That’s what we call Progression!”

VASSA: “More like devastation!”

Crawling over Kat and hooking her leg, Lauryn goes to put her away with the pin as the official drops in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

“New Americana” hits the speakers as Lauryn slowly rises to her feet with a cocky grin stretched across her face. Looking down to Kat for a brief moment, she then pops her head up and steps backwards until standing in the center of the ring. Stepping in beside her, the official then raises her arm into the air.

POWERS: “Here is your winner, LAURYN WWOOLLFFEE!!!”

Pulling her arm away from the official, Lauryn then paces the ring, soaking up the moment of victory in her Adrenaline in-ring debut.

JOHNSON: “There you have it folks, Lauryn Wolfe has made a statement here tonight with a win over the Adrenaline tenured, Kat Jones!”

VASSA: “I have to say that I’m impressed with the level of talent Adrenaline was able to capture with the departure of Uprising.”

JOHNSON: “Some people just don’t see a good thing until it’s right out from under their nose.”

VASSA: “Their loss is our gain. This new wave of talent in 4CW is looking very promising.”

JOHNSON: “I can’t argue with you there, Vinny. When you’re right, you’re right.”

The scene opens up with Persephone Marqueef checking herself in the mirror of her locker room. Nothing out of the ordinary, it seems; except of course the school girl outfit she’s wearing, for some reason. Catholic? Something like that. Doesn’t seem that important to the situation, she she loudly exclaims to the air.

MARQUIS: ”Boy! Here I am, just a vulnerable schoolgirl! Hope no one comes and kidnaps me!”

She didn’t really need to say it out loud, but the camera does this Kubrick zoom out – just using Kubrick as an example because he’s the only director of importance really known – to show a “masked” assailant standing behind a potted plot in the corner of the room. A strip of black material covering a small portion of his eyes. Clearly it was Jason Cashe.

Not even really standing behind a rather large potted plant. Just really holding a potted plant in his hands and “blending” to the point of her pretending not to see. Suddenly, however, the potted plant – let’s call the potted plant David the Baby Cactus – goes sailing across the room before colliding with the wall. The intruder has made himself known, obviously.

CASHE: ”ON YOUR KNEES, BITCH!”

Marquis frowns at his words and almost scowls.

MARQUIS: ”Don’t be so loud, damn.”

Marquis punctuates her words with a slight stomp of her foot. Only person that could be loud here is her. Cashe, however, not one to break character at this point, has no time for her preferences in this “crime.” Without answering her or paying any mind to her words, he pulls out a fucking gun from behind his pants and points it at her. A fucking gun? They didn’t talk about this.

CASHE: ”I said get on your fucking knees!”

He says this in an acceptable tone, but Persephone has her hands up as she climbs down to her knees regardless; eyes wide looking at the weapon, trying to figure out if it was real or not.

MARQUIS: ”Is that a real fucking gun? I’ll use the safe word, I swear.”

Once again, Cashe doesn’t answer her. Or, well, he does. He has to say something a little cool in this situation. He strolls over to where she’s kneeling, pressing the gun to her temple.

CASHE: ”No safe words here, bitch.”

Totally cool, right? Persephone rolls her eyes despite her uncertainty in the situation. Lowkey, she hates this guy. Cashe continues on, explaining how the rest of this is going to go.

CASHE: ”Now, I’m going to put a bag over your head and we’re getting out of here. You try and resist, bullet to your skull. Got it?”

Marquis doesn’t seem too happy with where this is going. She glares up at her kidnapper.

MARQUIS: ”Cashe, get that fucking thing away from my head.”

Cashe, being an asshole, just taps the weapon against her head. She was beginning to lose her temper.

MARQUIS: ”I’m being serious! You know what? Wafers. Nope. Not a fan. That’s it.”

CASHE: ”What did I say about safe words? They don’t fucking work here.”

MARQUIS: ”If I’m using it, it fucking works! Respect the word!”

CASHE: ”Fuck the word!”

He gives a hard push of her head with the gun and that’s it. Thing is, you always have to respect the safe word. It’s a fucking safe word. It was decided upon for a reason and she’s not a little fucking bitch. If she says she’s not a fan of something, she’s not a fucking fan. Does Cashe take her for a punk ass or something? Daddy ain’t raise a fucking punk.

Her thoughts are going miles per second as her breathing picks up with her frustration and anger. Cashe, grin on his face as he sees her getting worked up, isn’t helping the situation. He finds this funny. Maybe it’s the outfit. She must look like a kid or something. Whatever. Fuck this.

All at once, Persephone leans back a bit on her knees to turn and give herself a bit of momentum when she drives an elbow forward right into his dick. Because, listen, she figures she has open rights to hit him in the dick whenever she wanted. She named it, she takes care of it. Knitted a little hat for it. She could hit it.

Must’ve been a hard hit, though, because Cashe cries out and grabs at his groin, falling to his knees and doubling over in an almost fetal position. Whoa. She didn’t really want him to get hurt, fuck. What is with dudes? You could pluck them on their balls and they’d go down.

CASHE: ”Ohhhh my DANGLERS!!”

Cashe is groaning out different strings of profanity in a tone that suggest betrayal more than anger. Persephone purses her lips, trying not to laugh as she pats him on the arm in what she feels is in a sympathetic manner.

MARQUIS: ”Hey, man. It’s okay. It’s going to be fine.”

Cashe lets out a long groan in response and Persephone frowns, eyes squinting slightly at the sound in a recoil. She pats his head.

MARQUIS: ”It’s going to be fine, alright. Shut up. Want me to rub it better?”

As if he hadn’t been in pain at all, Cashe immediately turns on his back and hurriedly waves the cameras out as he begins undoing his pants. The cameras, being super respectful, even though it’s probably because no one who values themselves as a human being should be seeing Cashe’s dick, turn away as the scene fades out. The kidnapping attempt had failed.

HOPKINS: “AIGHT BITCH, I KNOW YOU HERE TONIGHT … YOU CAN’T HIDE FOREVER WIT’ THESE GAMES. IMMA FIND YOU!”

Loud, aggressive, angry voice of Jair Hopkins fills the backstage area of the X-CEL Energy Arena in St. Paul, Minnesota for tonight’s Adrenaline. His eyes big and wide, they go from left to right, back to left and back to right, scanning the area for that deranged, demonic Dakota Smith, who was torturing and holding captive, his friend Boogie. Frustration was continually mounting as Hopkins had on a Joe Mauer Minnesota Twins alternate jersey with a black baseball bat in his hand. He swung it violently at objects such as a metal trash can, simply obliterating it with the bat and his swing power. Kicking the can out of the way, he continues his pursuit, looking in all directions as people in the area were kind of frozen in their footsteps to what was going on.

HOPKINS: “WHERE THE HELLL ARE YOU, HOMEBOY? COME ON OUT!!!”

His yelling made another appearance as he swirled his bat around. One of the backstage workers came into the focus of Hopkins as he jogged over towards him, grabbing him by the collar of the shirt as he shoved him against the wall. The young man, paranoid as ever.

HOPKINS: “HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?”

Jair spoke in a darkish tone of voice, serious, very friggin serious as he was probably scaring the poor man shitless as he was pinned up against the wall. The man nervously shook his head, not knowing who Hopkins was speaking of as he raised his bat up.

HOPKINS: “You KNOW who…”

Again, nervously shaking his head, the man seemed to really not know who Hopkins was speaking of. Hopkins brought up the bat, pressing it crossways against the neck of the 4CW employee as he pressed with some force.

WORKER: “I … I honestly don’t know, Sir. Please, I DON’T KNOW!”

Hopkins held his head down momentarily as he was trying to hold every ounce of anger inside of him from bursting out right here, right this moment. He looked into the eyes the man, seeing if he was being true.

HOPKINS: “…Dakota … FUCKIN’ … Smith!”

His breath coating the man’s face, it seemed as if he was slowly losing oxygen as Hopkins continually kept pressure on the neck of the man as he waited for a reply. The way he was acting lately, especially now, no one knew what was going on inside of his head.

WORKER: “I…I-Aagh-I … I don’t knowww…”

Stuttering, fearing what the 4CW Champion’s next move was, he still shook his head, trying to persuade Hopkins that he was telling the truth with the limited amount of air he had left inside of his system.

HOPKINS: “You can’t play me, man. I know better. Dakota probably paid you to not tell his whereabouts, but if you don’t tell me soon, I’m gonna leave you laid out, dead. Use that air wisely and TELL ME!”

Coughing from the suppression of the bat against his throat, his face was starting to change a different color by the second as he was minutes, maybe even seconds away from doing exactly that, passing out. His eyes grew watery as he continued coughing, having problems with breathing.

WORKER: “He’s do–”

Barely able to speak without coughing and choking, he points the way for Hopkins as Hopkins immediately lets go of the pressure, dropping the man as he fell to the floor immediately, holding his throat from all that time pinned up. Hopkins shook his head as he looked at the man.

HOPKINS: “You’re pathetic!”

Walking off, he hastily made his way down that direction given, still with the bat in his possession. As he disappears from the scene, bystanders who were in the area where all of that happened rushed over to help the working crew member to a recovery before all came to a fade.

”This Means War” by Avenged Sevenfold hits the PA in the X-Cel Energy Arena as a thick area of fog floods the entrance ramp as the lights in the arena flicker briefly before entering a dimmed state. Shortly after, The Order, Brian Hollywood and Aamon slowly make their way out onto the stage as they stop momentarily and look around at the fans in the X-Cel Energy Arena as a bone chilling feeling comes over the arena. The fans are booing loudly as Hollywood and Aamon are not even phased by the crowd. Both men are dressed in their typical dark attire, and Hollywood’s new paten trademarked, black trench coat. There is a slight breeze, which is unknown where it’s coming from, that blows Hollywood’s trench coat from side to side. There is a mixed Hollywood in terms of both satisfaction and annoyance shown on his face as after they take a couple steps, they just all of a sudden stop. Hollywood turns around and looks from the ramp as if he was waiting for someone to come out but it was obvious that he was mocking certain members of the 4CW assuming that, after last week’s ridiculous culmination, that someone would come out to address them. Hollywood shakes his head and turns back around with Aamon following close behind as they make their way down and into the ring. Hollywood grabs a mic and stands in the center of the ring as it appears that he’s admiring himself from recent events. A slight smile crosses Hollywood’s face as the music fades out. He takes a moment to listen to the crowd all around Aamon and himself and closes his eyes as he lifts his raises his arms out from side to side as if he was being worshipped from everyone in the building. A few moments later, which the arena actually got eerily quiet for a bit, there is a little bit of dialogue that comes from the announcer’s table.

JOHNSON: ”I don’t even know what to make of this, Vinny! After what went down last week, how can Hollywood and Aamon be happy with themselves?! This whole thing has already crossed the damn line and Hollywood just doesn’t even care!”

VASSA: ”I don’t even have anything to say, for once. This whole behavior from Hollywood lately has left me puzzled to his actual wellbeing. Clearly the guy is a fucking psychopath! How did it ever come to this, though?”

After taking in the energy, no pun suspiciously, Hollywood raises the mic up to his mouth as he has a deranged look on his face.

HOLLYWOOD: ”Thank you for your worshipping reception Saint Paul! You see, it’s not hard to follow my teaching. I have developed a following and I have reached out to you all personally for you all to follow me and the order I am instilling personally here in 4CW. Last week, you all witnessed firsthand what The Order is capable of doing. However, last week was merely the beginning of a long and personal quest I have embarked here in 4CW. You all bared witness to the kinds of things that I’m capable of doing. I have come out here tonight to not only address all of you, but to address the huge fucking elephant in the room. Two weeks ago, you all saw firsthand what happens when you dare to cross me. If you cross me, you’re crossing not only The Order, but you’re also crossing the Lord of Darkness! I am your PRINCE OF DARKNESS and you all WILL fucking respect me!”

Hollywood continues to praise himself as the crowd continue to boo heavily as this is starting to sound more and more like a dictatorship worship. After a few moments, though, Hollywood’s smile vanished without a trace rather quickly.

HOLLYWOOD: ”You atheist motherfuckers just don’t get it, do you?!”

Hollywood was, of course, talking to the locker room as he faced towards the ramp like he was addressing and targeting everyone in the back.

HOLLYWOOD: ”Two weeks ago, Adrenaline opened up with one of the sickest, absolutely fucking pointless ways possible! I fucking WARNED all of you at Ante Up that there was going to be an unwarranted attack at the next Adrenaline and I delivered on that fucking promise. So you want to have a celebration for this new era in 4CW? What I saw in this ring two weeks ago was far from a new era as it gets. You had Perry Wallace and his dirty, stained bitch, Kaysie Sherell out here promoting the future of 4CW. There was nothing about that little get together that even came close to addressing a new era. However, since we’re on the subject, I will go ahead and make the statement. You might have thought you were getting ready to usher in a new era in 4CW, but the fact of the matter is, it wasn’t that at all. You see Perry Wallace needs to feel safe and since his fucking magina was so dry and filled up with concreted cowardice, he had to take action and instill a new force in 4CW. They call themselves the Royal Family, at least that’s what I really gathered out of it. This Royal Family is supposed to be the new face of 4CW going forward. Again, I am out here to once again tell you how fucking wrong you truly are. The forces of darkness don’t lie…MOLDARK never fucking lies! All of you should be scared by the mention of the Lord of Darkness’s name and why? It’s simple. It’s the last fucking thing you are ever going to hear before the life of your souls are sucked up and offered to him! I should warn you, though, that when you fuel him, you fuel me and vice versa. I don’t need a coronation to feel special or get my point across. Just ask Oswald Pinkman how exactly that point gets across!”

Hollywood lets out a laugh as he remembers every little detail, every little moment from the attack on Pinkman as Pinkman’s pain and suffering is Hollywood’s joy and happiness.

HOLLYWOOD: ”You should have heard him fucking squeal and beg for his mercy! Aamon and I took great pleasure in that because it’s quite obvious that none of you will never get the hint about what it is I do and what I represent. That’s completely fine with me because I take great pride in tearing people apart. I take great personal pleasure when I rip at the very souls of the sacrificed. ALL of you worthless motherfuckers in the back, if I have foreseen it correctly, will have a chance to know just how it feels! I didn’t just come out here to make grave threats, I came out here to address those threats because they WILL happen….ALL OF THEM WILL HAPPEN!!”

Hollywood laughs sadistically as Aamon smiles from beside holding his mysterious posture in the center of the ring as he looks around the arena coldly.

HOLLYWOOD: ”HEH…HEH…HEH…..you know I was hoping that you all would brush it all off your shoulders. You want to know why? It’s because all of you are fucking WEAK! All of you are fucking BLINDED by that light, that false light that you think entitles you to feel special. There’s nothing special about ANY of you! I take one look of this Royal fucking Family, and I see nothing but POISON! Every last fucking one of you are POISON! None of you have even come close to the amount of success I have in my entire career and even though it took me awhile to be found and SAVED by the darkness, I have already been pledging to the cause. Now I know that the Royal Family won’t even do a god damn thing to change their ways. It’s not in their DNA and that’s because they can’t comprehend it. You think by getting a free pass by Perry Wallace and Kaysie Sherell that you all will be safe and do wonderful things in 4CW? Fucking please, don’t make me get angry at that false belief….too fucking late…”

Hollywood shakes his head as it becomes clearly evident quickly of the rage and anger burning rapidly within him. A close up of Hollywood’s eyes are shown and they are filled with fire and red as Hollywood starts to lose control of himself and starts to go off.

HOLLYWOOD: ”ALL of you are fucking doomed to FALL at the hands of the Prince of Darkness and my Order…every last one of you irrelevant fucks! I look at this roster and I see pity and weakness! Take Dakota Smith for example. The Butcher? The only thing that got butchered was his fucking pride and finally saw the inevitable of how truly pathetic and worthless he truly is! Aw, did I strike a fucking nerve, Dakota? There isn’t a single nerve in your useless, piece of shit, stained soul! You lose the 4CW Championship and you became the very person you have always been. You are irrelevant without clarity and without the 4CW Championship….how in the fuck did you even win that championship to begin with?! You are WEAK, Dakota, and your little pretty, pretty princess Omerta were never a force to be reckoned with in 4CW. One little thing happens, and you just implode. I don’t even understand how you were even able to survive for as long as you have. Then you have Unstable. Yea, this was so called the biggest force in 4CW and look at it now? It was obvious that Jair Hopkins was late to the party as usual. You joined a DEAD force, and of course, it didn’t take long to expose Unstable for the irrelevant and waste of time pieces of shit that you truly were. CJ O Donnell lost his set of fucking balls that he never had and went back home hoping that mommy dearest would take him back in so he can hide in her fucking basement. Jason Cashe got “bored,” although his departure from Unstable was no coincidence….and Chris Madison? Madison was empowered by the washed up Frankie Morrison and now he is currently not around because of a contract dispute. Geez Madison, look at who you’re trying to negotiate with. Perry Wallace is the most useless mother fucker in this business! Which by the way, how’s Pinkman’s services going for you Perry? You’ve been pretty distant and quiet lately. Attacking Pinkman wasn’t random, but you’ll find that out soon enough. Then we have the Crown Prince and Princess, Elijah Carlson and Genevie. You are no prince by any standards, Elijah. Just the prince at being your girlfriends little bitch every week. There’s only one prince around here and your fucking looking at him…I am the Prince of Darkness and sooner than later, you will all find out what that means for all of you.”

After thinking about what the roster really amounts to, Hollywood shakes his head as he twitches a little bit while remaining on the edge of insanity once again. After a few moments of silence, Hollywood slowly brings the mic back up to his mouth as he is about to relate all of this together and what it means.

HOLLYWOOD: ”None of you can ever or will ever understand the power that runs throughout my soul. Since I know I have every instance of control, I’m going to let you ALL in on a secret….The Order isn’t just here to dominant 4CW like Unstable and Omerta couldn’t, but I am here to tell you that you ALL are being targeted for sacrifices. There isn’t one indispensable person on this roster that will be safe! The Order is here to not only put things the way it SHOULD be here in 4CW, but to mold it into the very vision Moldark has instilled. You all shall be MARKED with the brand of Moldark and only then can 4CW truly be offered the way it was always meant to be. I have followers here already waiting for their call to my service and NONE of you will ever see it coming! Mark my words, 4CW, every week that passes by, every show that goes in the record books will be made an example out of The Order….EVERY WEEK. EVERY SHOW. It’s inevitable and there isn’t a god damn thing you can do to stop it! Your reckoning will soon come and thus the darkness shall flood into this business and remold it into the very foundation it was always destined by fate to be! I AM YOUR PRINCE OF DARKNESS and you all are merely pieces of the foundation that will be used to usher in the full power of The Order and Moldark Marek! I’M HERE, 4CW, and that’s not good for ANY of you!!”

Hollywood drops the mic and closes his eyes as he holds up his arms from side to side taking in the power from within as the crowd let out a chorus of boos as “This Means War” reprises as Hollywood lets out a deep, twisted and sadistic laugh as Adrenaline slowly cuts backstage.

We head backstage to find the unofficial 4CW Primetime Champion Eli Carlson standing side by side with the current 4CW XTV and one half of the 4CW World Tag Team Champions Jason P. Davidson. The two of them can be seen inside of Davidson’s locker room in the middle of a conversation as the camera begins to pick it up midway through.

J.DAVIDSON: ”And then that motherfucker had the nerve to put his hands on me. I hit him in the head with the XTV Championship belt, but he just kept fighting and screaming about how next week one of the 4CW World Tag Team Championship belts was coming home with him.”

CARLSON: ”Amateurs are funny like that. I mean everyone knows that the titles are coming home with me and Genie next week.”

Eli smiles confidently, but notices that JPD doesn’t look too pleased with his declaration. Eli clears his throat and then reaches out and pats Davidson on the shoulder.

CARLSON: ”But I mean… you’ll still have that XTV Championship belt in your possession… maybe.”

J.DAVIDSON: ”I hope Genie stabs you in your sleep.”

CARLSON: ”Excuse me?!”

J.DAVIDSON: ”I said look at this awesome weapon I built to use in my match tonight!”

Davidson moves over towards his locker and pulls out a double bladed chainsaw that he welded together. Davidson raises the weapon high into the air as Eli looks it up and down.

CARLSON: ”You…made this?”

J.DAVIDSON: ”Damn right I did. It’s about to be Friday the 13th up in this motherfucker.”

CARLSON: ”But it’s only Wednesday…”

J.DAVIDSON: ”Well yeah but…”

CARLSON: ”And it’s also not the 13th.”

J.DAVIDSON: ”That’s not the point!”

CARLSON: ”You know you can buy chainsaw already made like that, right?”

J.DAVIDSON: ”…….Shut the fuck up.”

Eli grabs the chainsaw from Davidson and swings it around a bit before a smirk starts to build on his face.

CARLSON: ”This gives me a GREAT idea.

J.DAVIDSON: ”What kind of idea?”

CARLSON: ”It’s an idea I got from something Jason Cashe did on the last Adrenaline.”

J.DAVIDSON: ”Ugh, Cashe? Already not interested.”

CARLSON: ”No, seriously this will be awesome. Just follow me.”

Eli carries the chainsaw out of the dressing as Davidson just shrugs his shoulders and follows behind him. Both men make their way through the backstage area of the X-Cel Energy arena until Eli leads them into an empty dressing room. Eli carries the chainsaw up to the far wall of the dressing room before turning towards Davidson who looks confused.

CARLSON: ”Remember when Cashe was crawling through the air vents and ended up falling through the ceiling in Wallace’s office?”

J.DAVIDSON: ”Yeah, what about it?”

CARLSON: ”He claims he did it because he heard singing that ended up being Genie’s and he wanted to find the source of it.”

J.DAVIDSON: ”Well that’s bullshit. Anyone knows Genie couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket if her life depended on it.”

CARLSON: ”Exactly! So that means what Cashe was really trying to do was find the girls shower room and get himself a little freak show without anyone knowing he was there.”

J.DAVIDSON: ”Sounds like something Cashe would do.”

CARLSON: ”And now it’s something we’re going to do thanks to your weapon here. We drill a hole in this wall and one the other side all the naked 4CW women that we can feast our eyes on because on the other side of this cheap drywall is the girls shower.”

Davidson nods his head approvingly as Eli yanks the cord and brings the chainsaw to life. The two men punch a hole in the wall and then quickly stop the chainsaw before the sound gives away their position. Eli drops the chainsaw as both men kneel down in front of the two fresh holes in the wall. Davidson is the first to lean forward and look through the two holes.

J.DAVIDSON: ”Someone’s definitely in there. Just too much steam from the hot water to tell who it is.”

Eli grabs a hold of Davidson by the shoulder and pushes him out of the way before taking a look through the holes for himself.

CARLSON: ”From what I can tell whoever it is has a big gigantic ass. It has to be Tara in there!

Eli says with a fair amount of excitement in his voice as Davidson grabs a hold of him. JPD shoves Eli out of the way before taking a look for himself.

J.DAVIDSON: ”Nope I think you’re wrong. What I see is one fucking nice set of some big fake ass titties. That without a doubt has to be Genie in there!”

Davidson says as his tongue hangs out of his mouth. Eli tackles Davidson away from the wall and both men begin wrestling over who gets to take the next look. On the other side of the wall the person inside of the girls shower notices the hole in the wall.

? ? ?: ”Awww fuck yeah they put a glory hole up in this bitch! Teach these bullies a lesson!”

Paul Knight walks up to the holes in the wall and proceeds to stick his dick and his balls through the holes when suddenly on the other side of the wall the dressing room door bursts open as both Genevie and Tara Davidson walk in finding their husband and fiance wrestling on the floor.

GENEVIE: “There you fucking are Eli. What the hell is going on in here?”

Davidson and Eli both scurry up to their feet as quickly as possible and stand in front of the hole not realizing what has found its way through it.

CARLSON: ”Nothing. We were just rough housing a bit.”

T.DAVIDSON: ”I think they’re trying to hide something.”

JPD and Eli shake their heads no as Tara and Genevie begin to inspect the dressing room. The two ladies finally make their way both JPD and Eli who step a step backwards towards the wall.

J.DAVIDSON: ”Nothing to see here ladies.”

CARLSON: ”We certainly didn’t do anything to the wall back here.”

J.DAVIDSON: ”You can stop poking me in the back at any time, man.”

CARLSON: ”Dude, really? You’re the one poking me!

On the other side of the wall Paul thrusts his hips towards the wall repeatedly as he screams out at the top of his lungs.

KNIGHT: ”Like the MVP room up in this motherfucker! Got bitches rubbing they asses all over my dick. I knew these bitches missed me but goddamn, STOP BULLYING ME!”

Tara and Genevie raise their eyebrows at Eli and JPD who began shoving each other again before the two ladies pull them away from the wall to find Paul’s dick barely sticking through the holes in the wall behind them.

GENEVIE: “I swear to God I turn my back for five seconds and here you go doing gay shit once again. It’s bad enough you get caught playing with a dick bigger than your own but now you’re doing threesomes you faggot?! I can’t believe I sat in his lap!”

CARLSON: ”What the fuck are you talking about?!”

Eli and JPD look behind them and notice the tiny penis behind them for the first time. Both men jump away from the wall like they were shot out of a cannon.

J.DAVIDSON: ”That was NOT there five seconds ago!”

T.DAVIDSON: ”Where was it down your throat tickling your tonsils?!”

CARLSON: ”I blame JPD for this.”

J.DAVIDSON: ”Motherfucker! You told me that was the girls shower!”

CARLSON: ”That’s because it is!”

J.DAVIDSON: ”Unless 4CW has signed Tate Troy I think you’re wrong!”

Eli and JPD continue arguing as Paul continues to wiggle his dick up and down through the holes in the wall.

KNIGHT: ”Where the fuck did the dudes go? This dick ain’t gonna suck itself!”

GENEVIE: “Eli come…you have a match to prepare for.”

T.DAVIDSON: ”I’m pretty sure they both did plenty of cumming before we got here.”

Genie sighs disgustedly before turning around and leaving the dressing room. Eli chases after her as JPD picks up his chainsaw. Tara grabs JPD by the ear and drags him out of the dressing room leaving Paul’s dick all by it’s lonesome. That is until someone else walks into the dressing room and begins poking at Paul’s member.

KNIGHT: ”Take it fucking easy man hands! I didn’t break into this motherfucker to have you rip it off and take it home with you.”

Paul goes to pull his dick away from the hole but before he can…

SMACK!!!

KNIGHT: ”AAAHHHHHHHHH!!!”

One the other side of the wall, Xan Xander stands with a stapler in his hand, looking ahead at Paul’s dick stapled to the wall.

XANDER: ”EAT MY FUCK!”

Listening to the screams coming from the other side, Xan then throws the stapler to the floor. Laughing hysterically, he points to the bloody member attached to the wall as the screams continue coming from the other side of the wall.

UNDERCARD
BRYAN LAUGHLIN VS. ELIJAH CARLSON

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

The heavy opening guitar riff from “Out of My Mind” by Mushroomhead hits over the speakers as a slight fog grows around the curtain and Bryan Laughlin emerges walking slowly. His trademark “LAUGH-LIN” Run DMC Style shirt on he nods his head to the music and acknowledges the fans before dropping his head taking a deep breath and breaking out into a sprint towards the ring.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California by way of Cleveland, Ohio! Weighing in at two hundred twenty five pounds and standing six feet, two inches tall! He is a two time 4CW XTV Champion, ‘The Ripper’, BRYAN LLAAUUGGHHLLIINN!!!”

Approaching the ring he slides in and gets to his knees throwing his head back and his arms out allowing the fans to acknowledge him back. He quickly hops to his feet mouthing the lyrics.

“Judge me for what I am

The passage of death

You don’t play, you don’t win

You change nothing

You gain nothing

Everybody’s out from here on in”

He backs into the nearest corner taking off his shirt and throwing it behind him out of the ring as his music slowly fades.

POWERS: “And the opponent!”

”I don’t drink brass monkey, like the beat funky

Nickname Eazy E yo’ 8-ball junkie.

Bass drum kickin to show my shit

Rappin holdin’ my dick, boy I don’t quit”

“8-ball” by N.W.A. continues to blare over the speakers as Elijah Carlson emerges from the backstage area wearing a pair of black wrestling tights with his name in red lettering across the back and a leather jacket covering his upper body. Draped over his shoulder is the Primetime Championship that once belonged to the Uprising brand of Four Corners Wrestling.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from New York, New York, weighing in at two hundred ten pounds and standing six feet, one inch tall! He is ‘The Crown Prince’, ELIJAH CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”

Boo’s reign down from the heavens and throughout the arena as the crowd expresses their displeasure with him and his willingness to “sell out” to the King and Queen of 4CW. Halfway down the ramp he reaches out to high five a kid but just as the kid is about to slap his hand back Eli pulls his hand away and laughs right in the childs face. He struts the rest of the way down the ramp and then rolls himself into the ring, standing up with his arms extended out wide and a smile that said he was his own biggest fan.

”See a big ass and I say word

I took a look at the face and the bitch was to the curb

Bitch on the tip for the title i’m holdin’

Eazy E’s fucked up and got the 8 ball rollin’”

Calmly Eli circles the ring and everyone in it, his eyes never once leaving anyone else, before moving to his own corner as the referee directed him.

VASSA: “It’s been a good while since we’ve seen Bryan in the ring.”

JOHNSON: “It really has. We haven’t heard much from him since before Ante Up.”

VASSA: “He gets thrown into the fire first thing with a match against the so called ‘new era’ in 4CW.”

JOHNSON: “For a while the buzz was about making 4CW great again. It makes you think if this match was booked on purpose because of the rebellion against Perry and Kaysie.”

VASSA: “I can see that, but also know that Eli is still nursing a rib injury from his match with Lauryn Wolfe at Ante Up.”

JOHNSON: “It wasn’t hard to tell the injury bothered him in his Adrenaline debut two weeks ago.”

VASSA: “He’s had an additional two weeks to recover but injuries like these can linger for a very long time.”

JOHNSON: “If Bryan Laughlin is still looking to stick it to Perry and Kaysie, he has a golden opportunity in front of him tonight with an injured Eli Carlson.”

Standing in the center of the ring, the official awaits patiently before checking with each corner. After getting the nod from both, the official then throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Before the bell silences, both men burst from their corners and charge towards each other. Meeting in the center of the ring, Eli takes a swing for Bryan’s head but comes up short as Bryan ducks underneath the vicious right hook and counters with an elbow to the mid-section. Popping straight up, Bryan then hits Eli across the chest with two back to back knife edge chops, piercing over the sounds of the crowd as the skin to skin makes contact. Kicking his foot up, Bryan aims it for Eli’s mid-section but quickly gets stopped as Eli grabs ahold of it with both hands. Eli then spins Bryan around but as he makes a complete revolution, Bryan connects with a dragon whip, sending Eli flying backwards through the air and crashing hard to the mat.

VASSA: “We haven’t seen Bryan in action for a while but boy is he showing us some intensity right from the start tonight.”

JOHNSON: “Eli was lucky to save himself from that kick close to the ribs, but not so lucky to avoid having his head nearly taken off with that dragon whip.”

On his feet again, Bryan wastes no time and quickly rushes in on Eli, who is still down on his back. Leaping straight into the air, Bryan comes down with a double foot stomp but misses as Eli rolls out of the way. Leaping into the air once again, Bryan comes down with another double foot stomp, but falls short as Eli manages to dodge the attack a second time. Quick on his feet, Eli shoots in towards Bryan, wrapping his leg up and taking him down to the mat with a single leg takedown. Crawling over Bryan’s body, Eli mounts himself into position before firing away with rapid lefts and rights, missing more than he connects as Bryan fends them off. Catching Eli’s right between both of his hand, Bryan quickly wraps Eli’s arm up before rolling to his left and throwing Eli off of him.

Both men race to get to their feet, Eli standing first. Rushing in towards Bryan, Eli swings with a powerful right but comes up short as Bryan ducks underneath and pushes him in the back, sending him running to the ropes. As Eli comes back on the rebound, Bryan lunges forward, extending his arm and wrapping it around Eli’s throat, dropping him to the mat with a sleeper slam. Pushing himself up, Bryan steps in beside Eli before dropping down to his hands and elevating his body upside down. After a few short seconds pass, Bryan then comes down with kneedrop into the side of Eli’s ribs.

JOHNSON: “Oh that’s not good.”

VASSA: “I can hear the pain in his voice after Bryan drove his knee into those broken ribs.”

JOHNSON: “At this rate, he’s never going to properly heal.”

Pulling Eli up from the mat, Laughlin holds him in place with his left hand while drawing back with his right. Swinging his right forward, Bryan lays a crucial punch across Eli’s forehead, knocking him back a few steps. Stepping in, Bryan lays a knife edge chop across Eli’s chest and then jumps straight into the air, lifting both knees as high as he can and planting them underneath Eli’s chin. Stumbling backwards, Eli crashes hard into the nearby corner, holding himself up as he drapes both arms over the top ropes.

Backing up towards the opposite side of the ring, Bryan takes a few deep breaths before charging forward. Gaining speed with each step, Bryan then leaps forward, flipping his body around and slamming his back into Eli, squashing him against the corner. Still holding himself up with the ropes, Eli sighs helplessly as the pain runs throughout his entire body. Bryan then pushes himself up and grabs ahold of Eli, pulling him away from the corner before wrapping him up with both arms. Lifting Eli off his feet, Bryan falls backwards, throwing Eli over his head with an overhead belly to belly suplex.

VASSA: “That short break from action seems to have done Bryan some good.”

JOHNSON: “He’s been non-stop from the sound of the bell and I don’t think he’s even began to grow tired yet.”

VASSA: “Eli on the other hand, he looks awful. If he somehow survives after tonight’s match, he seriously needs to consider taking a few shows off to let those ribs heal.”

Pulling himself up with the ropes, Bryan then ascends the corner and makes his way up to the top. As he looks over the crowd, a chant breaks out.

“Great Again! … Great Again! … Great Again! … Great Again! … Great Again!”

Shaking his head back and forth in displeasure, Bryan then turns his back to the crowd and looks across the ring at Eli still down on his back.

VASSA: “The ‘Make 4CW Great Again’ movement died out, didn’t it?”

JOHNSON: “It did but Bryan isn’t giving up the fight. He may not have the support he had hoped to gain with the movement, but he’s a one man revolution looking to make a change.”

Locking in his sights on Eli, Bryan then leaps forward, diving through mid-air and coming down with a headbutt, planting his into Eli’s in the center of the ring. The impact takes its toll on Laughlin as he rolls over to his back, seeing stars as well. Shaking it off, he then rolls back over and crawls on top of Eli to make the cover.

ONE

.

.

TW–

Popping his shoulder up from the mat, Eli breaks the officials count before the full two. Placing his hand over Eli’s face, Bryan then pushes himself up while placing all of his weight on that hand. Stopping midway, Bryan then drops back down and wraps his arm around Eli’s head, cradling him as he then begins to drive multiple knees into Eli’s ribcage.

JOHNSON: “I can tell that Eli is in a world of pain!”

VASSA: “You’re telling me! He’s yelling at the top of his lungs with each knee that collides into his ribs.”

JOHNSON: “I don’t understand why he just doesn’t call it a match and take a breather.”

VASSA: “The kid is young, but damn if he doesn’t have a lot of heart.”

Satisfied with the damage done, Bryan stands to his feet before reaching back down and locking onto Eli’s wrist. Jerking him up from the mat, Bryan stands him up before holding him in place and cutting into his chest with another knife edge chop. Lifting Eli into the air, Bryan then drops down to one knee, slamming Eli across his other knee with a backbreaker. Rolling Eli off his knee, Bryan watches as he crashes face-first to the mat. He then looks to the nearest corner before standing tall. After making his way towards the corner, Bryan grabs onto the top ropes with both hands. Taking a few moments to look over the crowd once again, he then pulls himself up and climbs to the top. Ignoring the fans as he stands above everything else, he turns his attention back to Eli.

VASSA: “This has been a never ending assault on Eli and I don’t think it’s going to let up anytime soon.”

JOHNSON: “It’s obvious that the man disagrees with this new era in 4CW. He’s making it clear tonight with the message sent to Perry and Kaysie.”

Standing in place, Bryan stares down to Eli’s motionless body on the mat. In the blink of an eye, he then leaps off the top with a slow motion swanton bomb and at the last second, he rotates his body, coming down with his leg aimed for the back of Eli’s head.

JOHNSON: “Nineteen Forty-Five!”

VASSA: “NNNOOOOOO!!!”

JOHNSON: “BRYAN MISSES!!!”

TTTHHHUUUDDD!!!

VASSA: “HOLY HELL!!!”

Rolling out of the way at the last possible split second, Eli leaves nothing but empty canvas to break Bryan’s fall as he crashes hard. The entire ring rattles upon the impact and a howling sigh is heard shortly after escaping Bryan’s mouth. With both men down, the official then begins the ten count.

“One! … Two! … Three!”

Both men slowly begin to roll around, still down and out of it.

“Four! … Five!”

VASSA: “Eli is lucky to have dodged that match ending move!”

JOHNSON: “No risk, no reward, and Bryan took all the risk only to end up without the reward.”

“Six!”

VASSA: “Bryan had the match in the palm of his hand but this busted move could change things for him.”

As the official counts to ten, both men finally begin to show signs of life and begin to push themselves up.

“Seven!”

Neither man in a hurry, the two remain down but on all fours as the official counts.

“Eight!”

Pushing themselves up to one knee, the two race to beat the officials count.

“Nine!”

Falling face-first to the mat, Laughlin quickly reaches around his body and holds his lower back.

“Te–“

Before the official can fully count to ten, Eli finds a second wave of energy and bursts up to both feet, breaking the count.

VASSA: “The Crown Prince is on his feet!”

JOHNSON: “I don’t know how he can even manage to stand right now. His entire body is buckled over as he cradles his ribcage with his arm.”

Leaning to one side, Eli looks across the ring where Bryan is still down but beginning to push himself up. The facial expression of Eli alone paints the picture for the amount of pain aching throughout his body, more so in his side. Limping across the ring, Eli slowly makes his way over to Bryan. As Bryan pushes himself up to one knee and exposes his body, Eli whips around and kicks him across the chest. Dropping to both knees, Bryan manages to stay up but before he knows it, Eli whips around in the opposite directions and kicks him in the side of the head with his other foot. Still up, Bryan slowly turns his head back to look at Eli who watches, shocked that he’s not down. With a smile on his face, Bryan then extends both arms out to his side, staring directly into Eli’s eyes.

JOHNSON: “What the heck is Bryan doing?!”

VASSA: “He isn’t backing down from this new era backed by the king and queen of 4CW.”

JOHNSON: “There’s no need for him to be a martyr.”

Ignoring the pain in his body, Eli then turns to the ropes behind him and takes off towards them as fast as he can, still with a limp in his step. As he comes back on the rebound, Eli kicks his right leg up, slamming it into Bryan’s face with a shinning wizard.

VASSA: “DAMN!!!”

JOHNSON: “Bryan has officially been Anointed at the hands of Eli.”

Flat on his back with his arms still extended, Laughlin lies motionless in the center of the ring. Slow to get to his feet, Eli favors his side as he stares down at Bryan. He then cuts his attention to the nearby corner and limps his way over. Climbing to get to the top, Eli slowly ascends, fighting through the pain with each step upward. Once at the top, Eli ignores the crowd and closes his eyes for just a moment. After a few deep, long breathes, Eli then leaps upward with a backflip and spins his body, coming down across Bryan’s body with a Phoenix Splash!

JOHNSON: “Ascension!”

VASSA: “Why Eli! Why put yourself through this!?”

In a world of pain, Eli cries out but remains covered over Bryan as the official races over for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: “There you have it folks! Eli Carlson has done what many probably thought would be impossible given how the match has been for almost the entire time.”

VASSA: “Up until that misses Nineteen Forty-Five, Bryan had this one in the bag.”

“B-Ball” hits the speakers as Eli rolls off of Bryan and slowly pushes himself up with help from the official. Holding his side with one arm, Eli can barely stand on his own as the official raises his other arm into the air.

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

POWERS: “Here is your winner, ELIJAH CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”

Breathing heavily, Eli pulls his arm away from the official but as he does, he stumbles backwards and falls to the mat. Holding his side in pain, a smile manages to come over his face as his music blares throughout the entire arena.

JOHNSON: “He has to slow down before he ends his own career.”

VASSA: “The kid’s a fighting champion.”

JOHNSON: “He’s a fighter holding a defunct championship from a place that is no longer on the map.”

VASSA: “Let him have some fun. He’s young!”

JOHNSON: “Don’t forget about reckless! At this rate he’ll be lucky to wrestle till he’s thirty.”

VASSA: “You only live once and this kid is going hard with no plans of going home anytime soon.”

As cameras go backstage following the match between Bryan Laughlin and Eli Carlson, we see Maddox Lucien and his new manager Brittany in his locker room. It would seem that Brittany is trying to be a little flirtacious with her client, but Maddox appears to want none of it when Candy comes skipping her way through the door all smiles.

LUCIEN: “Candy…”

Maddox says her name as he breathes out a sigh of relief as he stands up from the couch creating distance between himself and Brittany.

CANDY: ”Hey Maddy!”

She says in an excited tone as she makes her way over to Maddox and wraps her arms momentarily around him before stepping back.

CANDY: ”Just thought I’d come by and wish you luck before your match tonight.”

LUCIEN: ”I appreciate that.”

From her spot on the couch, Brittany speaks up as Maddox smiles at Candy.

BRITTANY: ”You LET her call you Maddy?!”

LUCIEN: ”She really didn’t give me a say in the matter.”

He sounds more amused than upset as Candy shrugs her shoulders.

CANDY: ”It’s just something I do.”, she adds with a giggle before turning her attention to the other female, ”You must be Brittany. Maddox has told me so much about you.”

BRITTANY: ”He has? All good things I hope.”

CANDY: ”Not necessarily. But hey, at least you’re here right? Maybe you’ll get a chance to settle your differences, afterall.”

BRITTANY: ”That might be possible as long as SOMEONE doesn’t get in my way.”

Candy holds her hands up palms out as Brittany scowls at her.

CANDY: ”It’s nothing like that. We’re just partners.”

BRITTANY: ”Partners?”

She looks at Maddox for confirmation on this.

LUCIEN: ”Yes, tag partners. For the tournament. Remember I told you about Mad Candy.”

BRITTANY: ”Oh right.”

Though she doesn’t sound too happy about being reminded of this. As Candy goes to speak again, she draws Maddox’s attention back to her.

CANDY: ”Mad Candy, huh?”

LUCIEN: ”Yup.”

CANDY: ”I like it!”

LUCIEN: ”Thought you might.”

CANDY: ”Well, I should probably be going…”

LUCIEN: ”You can stay if you want.”

But as Candy glances over, she could tell Brittany didn’t hold the same sentiment.

CANDY: ”Oh, that’s not necessary. But I’ll be around to congratulate you after you win your match!”

Maddox tries to protest against her departure. But Candy simply offers him a friendly smile before turning on her heel and skipping her way back out of the room as cameras went elsewhere in the arena.

We find ourselves back in the office that Perry Wallace occupies. Behind the desk, the unknown gentleman from earlier leans forward with a single piece of paper in front of him, various lines highlighted in yellow. Across the desk, Perry sits with a glass of Scotch in hand and a satisfied look upon his face.

WALLACE: “So that’s it?”

UNKNOWN: “That’s it, written plain as day and signed by the man himself.”

The man replies as he looks up to Perry with a grin from ear to ear.

WALLACE: “Just earlier you were saying that you had to clean up my mess. It looks like I covered my ass pretty well from where I’m sitting.”

Shaking his head back and forth, the man chuckles softly before looking down to the paper once again.

UNKNOWN: “I hate to sound like an asshole but it’s something that comes naturally, so please, try not to get offended. If you weren’t so incompetent, you would protect yourself and 4CW from situations like this a little better. You know, make things a little more clear. If it wasn’t for me, he’d continue doing what he’s doing, parading around with a 4CW championship belt in various promotions like he owns the damn thing.”

WALLACE: “He doesn’t own that belt!”

UNKNOWN: “You’re absolutely right, but the way this contract was written you didn’t really protect yourself from a situation such as this. Luckily, I found a loophole.”

WALLACE: “Goddamn right we did!”

UNKNOWN: “No, we didn’t find a loophole. I found a loophole, this is what you’re paying me for. Get your head out of your ass and just admit that you fucked up. Pay the man what he deserves or force his hand by either making him compete or drop the belt.”

Thinking to himself for a short moment, Perry rubs his chin as he stares to the far corner of the room.

WALLACE: “It’s a little too late for paying the man. I already threw a hefty contract at him and he just ripped it apart. I swear Frankie just can’t let shit go.”

UNKNOWN: “You can’t exactly say that he doesn’t have his reasons. You’ve underappreciated top talent in this company for a very long time. It’s time to swallow your pride and do the right thing, no pun intended.”

Taking a drink from his glass, Perry then places it on the desk before leaning back in his chair.

WALLACE: “I’m not swallowing anything! He wants to play hard ball, then let’s fucking play!”

UNDERCARD
NIOBE MARTIN VS. TARA DAVIDSON

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

DING!!! DING!!!

As the opening of “Nightmare” by Avenged Sevenfold begins to play over the arena, a video flashes on the big screen of a camera shot panning up a grassy hill at night, slowly until it gets to the top. Panning from left to right, lighting flashing in the sky as the opening guitar riff begins to sound.

POWERS: “Introducing to the ring from Anaheim, California, weighing in at one hundred twenty five pounds and standing five feet, seven inches tall! She is the “Nightmare”, NIOBE MMAARRTTIINN!!!”

The video on the screen then switches to a video package of Niobe in the ring, flashing and moving in time with the drum beat.

“Nightmare!

Now your nightmare comes to life..”

Niobe comes running out from behind the curtain, stopping at the top of the ramp briefly to extend her arms out to the sides as a blast of pyro goes off on either side of her.

“Dragged you down below…

Down to the devils show…

To be his guest forever…

Peace of mind is less than never..”

As the lyrics of the song continue to play, she drops her arms and walks down the ramp, a smirk on her face as she sneers at the crowd as she passes before sliding under the bottom rope of the ring. She stands up and throws off the hood of her jacket, glaring at the crowd with a smirk on her face.

POWERS: “And the opponent!”

“Blood, blood, blood

Pump mud through my veins

Shut your dirty, dirty mouth

I’m not that easy”

As the sound of “Blood” by In This Moment fills the inside of the arena, the lights are dimmed down, leaving only a bright spotlight which shines upon the curtains as a lone female figure pushes them open stepping out to the jeers and catcalls of the crowd. Tara Davidson rubs both of her hands across the golden plate of her 4CW Tag Team Championship. She tosses her hair back behind her shoulders before she begins to walk towards the ring with the crowd still clamoring to be heard above the pounding music.

POWERS: “Hailing from Miami, Florida, weighing in at one hundred twenty pounds and standing five feet, four inches tall… one half of the reigning 4CW Tag Team Champions… ‘The Red Queen’… TARA DDAAVVIIDDSSOONN!!!”

“Blood, blood, blood

Pump mud through my veins

I’m a dirty, dirty girl

I want it filthy”

Tara approaches closer towards the ring and swiftly jumps up onto the apron as she kneels down upon one knee. She keeps one hand upon the middle rope as she looks out towards the crowd blowing them some kisses before slipping in between of the ropes with ease. Once inside of the ring, she walks towards the middle and removed her championship belt from around her waist before holding it up high in the air as the lights come back on before the music fades out leaving just the jeers of the crowd to fill the inside of the arena.

JOHNSON: “It’s been quite some time since we’ve seen Niobe competing in an Adrenaline ring.”

VASSA: “She looks just as tasty now as she did then.”

JOHNSON: “Ever since transitioning from Adrenaline to the other various, short lived shows we’ve had, she’s done fairly well for herself.”

VASSA: “She’s won a few championships along the way and tonight she finds herself against one half of the 4CW Tag Team Champions.”

JOHNSON: “Tara Davidson has been on fire since officially signing with 4CW earlier in the year.”

VASSA: “So much that she’s gained the attention of the owner, Perry, and his significant other, Kaysie.”

JOHNSON: “Two weeks ago the new era in 4CW was announced as management themselves backed Tara along with a few others. Tonight we have a special showcase match of the old guard versus the new era.”

VASSA: “Call it what you want! I’m calling this thing beautiful from start to finish with these two ladies involved.”

DING!!! DING!!!

JOHNSON: “With the sound of the bell, the match is officially underway!”

Slowly making her way towards the center of the ring, Tara keeps her eyes locked on Niobe across the ring. Stopping dead center in the ring, Tara waves for Niobe to leave her corner and approach her. Shrugging her shoulders, Niobe reaches back and places both hands onto the ropes before pushing herself off and away from her corner. As she gets closer to Tara, the two ladies then begin to circle one another in the center of the ring before lunging forward and locking up.

Getting the leverage from the jump, Niobe begins driving Tara back a few steps before coming to an abrupt stop. Powering forward, Tara then drives Niobe backwards before coming to yet another abrupt stop. Planting her back foot, Niobe then pops her other leg up and drives her knee into Tara’s stomach. Pulling Tara’s head down, Niobe holds it against her body, applying a side headlock. Just as Niobe begins to crank down on the headlock, Tara plants a hand onto her lower back and pushes her way, sending Niobe running towards the ropes.

Coming back on the rebound, Niobe leaps forward, grabbing onto Tara’s head with both hands and slamming her back-first to the canvas. Not letting go of Tara’s head, Niobe then begins slamming it over and over into the mat without showing any signs of restraint. Reaching up with both hands, Tara then grabs two handfuls of Niobe’s hair before shaking her back and forth and throwing her over to the side.

VASSA: “It looks like we have a catfight on our hands, Steve!”

The two ladies quickly race to their feet, Tara standing first. As Niobe stands tall, Tara sweeps in and delivers a breath taking knee to the stomach. Stepping in beside Niobe, Tara then grabs ahold of her and drops her face-first to the mat with a forward Russian leg sweep. With Niobe face down, Tara then grabs onto her head and raises it a few inches from the mat before slamming it forward into the canvas.

Pulling Niobe up from the mat, Tara locks onto her arm and pulls her in to a knee to the gut. Keeping her grip tightly around Niobe’s wrist, she then whips her to the far corner. Slamming hard against the corner, Niobe stumbles forward as Tara races past her. Leaping up and planting both feet on the middle ropes, Tara then springboards off and turns her body in mid-air, wrapping her arm around Niobe’s head and driving her face into the mat for a third time with a springboard bulldog.

JOHNSON: “Tara isn’t holding anything back in regards to the face attacks.”

VASSA: “I don’t hold anything back when it comes to facials either.”

Standing to her feet, Tara looks down to Niobe as she sticks out her bottom lip and blows the hair out from in front of her face. Pulling Niobe up from the mat, Tara draws back and slaps her across the face, whipping Niobe’s face to the side. She then spins around and connects with a reverse roundhouse kick, knocking Niobe down to one knee. With Niobe leaned forward, Tara then turns to the ropes behind her. As she comes back on the rebound and closes in on Niobe, Tara hops into the air and comes down across the back of Niobe’s head with a scissors kick.

VASSA: “Oh scissor me timbers!”

JOHNSON: “It’s The Goodnight Kiss!”

VASSA: “Tara has completely destroyed the old guard!”

Rolling Niobe over to her back, Tara then makes the cover as the official slides in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: “Tara wins it folks! She steamrolled right through Niobe here tonight!”

VASSA: “I’d bet that the king and queen are happy to see her performance here tonight.”

JOHNSON: “This match was short and sweet, a warmup before Bad Company Two, if you will.”

VASSA: “She keeps getting hotter and hotter with each performance in the ring, and I don’t necessarily mean only her abilities.”

“Blood” hits the speakers as Tara rises to her feet victorious. Stepping in beside her, the official then raises her arm into the air as the fans rain down upon the ring with boos.

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

POWERS: “Here is your winner, TARA DDAAVVIIDDSSOONN!!!”

As the cameras cut backstage, Maddox is seen walking out of the locker room. He shuts the door behind him and Brittany is having trouble with a few security staff members.

SECURITY: “How did you get back here, lady?”

Instead of helping her out, Maddox enjoys watching her deal with the issues on her own.

BRITTANY: “I’m here as Luke Mason’s manager.”

SECURITY: “Luke Mason? Who is that?”

Maddox starts walking up behind Brittany as she continues to get irritated with the security. Brittany puts her hands on her hips.

BRITTANY: “Maddox Lucien! Luke Mason is Maddox Lucien! He’s an old friend. He hired me to be his manager. I’m here with him.”

Finally Maddox reaches Brittany and puts his hand on her shoulder.

LUCIEN: “It’s okay, man. She’s here with me.”

SECURITY: “And you are?”

LUCIEN: “That’s a good one. Take a hike before something bad happens.”

Security gives Maddox a glare and clenches his jaw before walking away to leave Brittany and Maddox in the hallway alone. Brittany turns to Maddox.

BRITTANY: “I thought you said that this wouldn’t be a problem.”

Maddox puts his hands up.

LUCIEN: “Hold the phone. I never said that. I said that you wouldn’t be under a 4CW managerial contract. You’re on my payroll. Not theirs. So take it easy.”

Brittany rolls her eyes. Maddox puts his hand back on her shoulder, she shrugs it off and looks at his hand.

BRITTANY: “Don’t touch.”

LUCIEN: “Oh, believe me. I’m not interested. But, how about you loosen up? I’m giving you a job. And your next job is to go sit in your rental car during my match with Dakota Fanni—I mean Smith. How did you like Candy?”

Brittany crosses her arms and turns her eyes away from Maddox.

BRITTANY: “She’s a nice girl. So is she your girlfriend?”

Maddox chuckles and shakes his head.

BRITTANY: “What?!”

LUCIEN: “You don’t want me to touch you, but you ask questions like that. It makes you sound jealous. And that…Britt…”

Brittany flips Maddox off with her finger in his face.

BRITTANY: “I’m not jealous, and I told you not to call me that!”

Maddox grabs Brittany’s finger.

LUCIEN: “I’m trying to get you to loosen up and enjoy yourself, Brittany. That’s all. Get the plug out of your arse. Enjoy the night and after I beat Dakota Smith tonight, you and I will be going out to celebrate with Candy.”

Brittany nods. She uncrosses her arms.

BRITTANY: “So what do you want me to do, now?”

Maddox walks around Brittany and puts both of his hands on her shoulders.

LUCIEN: “A nice, cold bottle of water would be fantastic.”

Brittany looks straight forward with a cold as ice look in her eyes.

LUCIEN: “Oh, and I did get you a backstage pass. That way you don’t get hassled by security anymore.”

Maddox takes the pass out of his pocket and holds it out in front of her. She grabs it and begins to walk off. Maddox gives her a pat on the ass as she walks away.

LUCIEN: “That’s a good girl.”

Brittany stops in her tracks and turns around. She walks back to Maddox and raises her knee into his groin.

LUCIEN: “UGH!”

BRITTANY: “Good luck tonight…”

Brittany turns around heads to go get Maddox a bottle of water as Maddox sinks down to the floor.

UNDERCARD
KAIDEN HAWKE VS. ERRON WILDER

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

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.

JOHNSON : “Well, Kaiden Hawke looks ready tonight…”

VASSA : “Of course Kaiden Hawke’s ready. That man is ready for anything. He’s ready for a photo shoot, he’s ready for a manicure a colon clense. What isn’t this guy ready for?”

JOHNSON : “I don’t know about colon clenses and all that, Vinnie. When it comes to having a fight, Kaiden Hawke is as tough as they come!!”

A Punjabi tremor rings around the arena, steadily building towards an explosive crescendo that gives way to “Blood, Milk and Sky” by White Zombie. The instant mixed reactions from the live viewers and their vulgar signs hoisted in the air acknowledge the man behind the thundering echoes—’Dead End Wilder’, ‘Come Claim Me’, and ‘You’re sh!t out of Luck.’ It was clear who they invited in, albeit everything around had dimmed to a thick black except for fluorescent strobes of light spiraling around clockwork, searching the inside of the arena. Heads continuing to turn in the dark at every available direction in the search for roguish twenty-five year-old, 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 surly pout emerging through the touch of light. He swings his arms loosely to their sides with a hint of cockiness in his movement. This is Wilder, 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 the Blind Alley and weighing in at two hundred and twenty nine pounds, he is… ERRON “STUNTMAN” WWIILLDDEERR!!!”

Pacing around the mat in evident restlessness, Erron rolls his wrists and jerks his head sideways in last second preparation. A jittery smile ripping over his shady mug provided a closing gesture of how anxious he is to start swinging.

JOHNSON : “Well, I’ll tell you if Kaiden Hawke is looking for a fight, they sure paired him up with the right guy!”

VASSA : “Tell me about it. I heard Erron Wilder likes to fight so much he has to sleep alone because he does karate in his sleep.”

JOHNSON : “Well, that sure is a way to get a domestic abuse charge without knowing it!”

VASSA: “You ain’t kiddin’, Steve!”

DING!!! DING!!!

As the bell sounds, Erron Wilder steps out and smirks as Kaiden Hawke steps in front of him and begins to trash talk. Wilder fires a right hand, that Kaiden blocks off. Kaiden returns fire with a chop staggering Wilder back a step. Hawke fires forward with a right hand, but this one is dodged by Wilder. Wilder answers back with an elbow to Kaiden’s ribs. Erron rushes forward and attempts a bionic elbow, but Hawke ducks under and comes off the ropes, rebounding and connecting a clothesline that sends Wilder down to the canvas. Kaiden looks down at Erron Wilder and then paces for a moment as the trash talk continues.

JOHNSON : “What was Wilder thinking trying to go blow for a blow with a powerhouse like Hawke?”

VASSA: “That’s the point, Steve. Erron Wilder isn’t wrapped tight, he wasn’t thinking!”

Kaiden Hawke reaches down and lifts Wilder to his feet. He delivers another chop to Wilder’s chest before tossing him against the ropes. Wilder rebounds back in Kaiden’s direction and is taken down with another clothesline. Keeping momentum going, Kaiden reaches down and quickly lifts Erron to his feet. He drives an elbow into Wilder’s stomach and then locks him under his arm in suplex position. Kaiden Hawke attempts a suplex, but Erron Wilder begins firing shots into his stomach, causing him to break his grip. Erron then rushes forward and delivers a chop block to Kaiden’s leg, dropping him to one knee. Erron takes a few steps back and runs forward, baseball sliding into the back of Hawke’s other knee causing him to fall to the mat.

JOHNSON : “Well that’s pretty smart on Wilder’s part. Take out the legs of Kaiden Hawke and take away his power!”

Erron reaches down and lifts Kaiden to his feet. He grips Kaiden’s wrist and brings him forward for an Irish whip, but Kaiden reverses it into an Irish whip of his own, sending Erron Wilder into the turnbuckle. Kaiden steps forward and drives a knee into Erron’s gut, keeping him against the turnbuckles. After driving another knee into Erron’s gut, Kaiden places a forearm on Erron’s throat and starts choking him in the corner. The official begins a count for Kaiden to break the hold. Kaiden releases the choke and takes a step back.

JOHNSON : “Kaiden Hawke using a dirty choke to his advantage!”

VASSA : “Well, in 4CW if you can’t get down and dirty at times when it’s needed the most, then you’re in the wrong company!!”

Giving Erron very little time to recover, Hawke rushes forward and drives a shoulder into his ribs. He pulls wilder from the turnbuckle and then lifts him over his head, dropping him down with a military press slam. Kaiden drops down to his knees and hooks the leg looking for a pin-fall.

ONE

.

.

TW–

Following the kick-out, Kaiden climbs to a knee and then pulls himself up using the ropes. Erron begins to stand up, still a bit groggy from the slam. Kaiden rushes forward with a shoulder block, knocking Erron back down to the cavas. Kadien Hawke paces around the ring and then wipes the sweat from his forehead and flicks it down onto Erron Wilder as a taunt

VASSA: “Kaiden Hawke is showing Erron no repsect here tonight!”

JOHNSON : “Of course not. Kaiden Hawke will do whatever it takes as long as it’s for his benefit.”

Kaiden Hawke reaches down and starts lifting Erron Wilder to his feet. Wilder fires a couple shots to Hawke’s ribs causing him to stagger a step. Wilder then begins firing a series of stiff punches to Kaiden’s chest and stomach, causing him to buckle a bit. Stumbling Kaiden Hawke back into the ropes, Erron Wilder runs forward and delivers a clothesline sending both of them flipping over the ropes to the ringside floor.

JOHNSON : “This is where things could get dangerous!”

VASSA: “Both men climbing to their feet out on the ringside floor!”

The referee begins his ten count as both men stand. Kaiden fires a left hand, which Erron ducks under and lands a forearm to Kaiden Hawke’s face. Kaiden stumbles back against the barricade. Wilder runs forward and attempts another clothesline, but Hawke ducks and sends him flying over the barricade into the crowd with a back body drop.

“One! … Two!”

Kaiden reaches over the barricade and pulls Erron Wilder to his feet. He slams Wilder’s forehead against the top of the barricade before pulling him back over and onto the ringside floor. Hawke keeps the pressure on by sending a couple stomps to the chest of Erron as he rolls around on the ringside floor.

“Three! … Four!”

Kaiden Hawke reaches down and lifts Erron to his feet by the hair. He grips Erron Wilder’s wrist and sends him whipping shoulder first into the ring post. As Erron staggers back, Kaiden grabs him from behind and locks him up, dropping him backward with Russian Leg Sweep.

“Five!”

JOHNSON : “Both men need to be careful of the official’s ten count. Neither want to lose due to a count-out, I’m sure.”

“Six!”

Kaiden climbs to his feet and reaches down lifting Wilder to his feet. He brings Wilder over by the ring apron and smashes his head against it before rolling him back into the ring through the bottom rope. Kaiden pulls Erron’s arm back toward him and wraps it in the ropes, using it as leverage for an arm wrench while he stands outside the ring.

“Seven! … Eight!”

Kaiden releases the arm wrench and rolls back into the ring. Erron begins using the ropes as a crutch to pull himself to standing position as Kaiden Hawke comes to his feet. Kaiden prowls toward Erron, but Erron catches him with a rake to the eyes when he closes in. He follows up by jumping into the air and spiking Kaiden head first the canvas with a jumping ddt. Erron crawls over and hooks the leg.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Kaiden gets a shoulder off the mat. Erron rolls over onto his back and digs his hands into the canvas as he climbs to his feet. Both men get to their feet at almost the same time. Kaiden rushes forward with a boot, but Erron blocks it off with his hand, Kaiden goes to fire a clothesline, but Erron ducks under and springs off the ropes. He rushes back in Kaiden Hawke’s direction and connects a knee lift, causing him to stagger.

VASA: “Oh no, it looks like Erron’s got some errand’s to run!!

JOHNSON : “He’s going to try and put Kaiden Hawke down with that knee lift combination we see him use often!”

VASSA: “It may not be all that impressive, but it gets the job done!!”

Erron springs off the ropes and hits another knee lift into the back of Kaiden Hawke dropping him to a knee. He keeps the chain going and springs off the other side of the ring ropes rushing back toward Hawke. Erron goes to fire the third knee lift, but as he does, Kaiden Hawk lifts him into the air and plants him back first with a spinebuster, instantly locking in a pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

JOHNSON : “Erron Wilder gets a shoulder up, he will not be denied tonight!!”

Erron Wilder rolls onto his back and takes a breather as Kaiden Hawke crawls to the corner and uses the ropes as a ladder to climb to his feet. Erron comes to a stand still groggy from the spinebuster, staggering toward Kaiden. Kaiden Hawke delivers a kick to Erron’s gut and stuffs his Erron’s head between his legs. Kaiden lifts Erron into the air and drills him with a tiger bomb.

VASSA: “A brutal tiger bomb that could have Erron Wilder walking around backstage with a colostomy bag for a couple weeks!!”

JOHNSON : “Yeah, but I don’t think Kaiden Hawke is done yet?!

Kaiden Hawke backs into the corner and waits for Erron Wilder to stand after rolling around on the mat clenching his back. As Erron stands, Kaiden Hawke kicks him in the gut and leans forward, lifting Erron Wilder over his head and locking him up by the neck. Hawke drives Wilder down with the Alpha Breaker.

JOHNSON : “Alpha Breaker!!”

Kaiden drops down onto Erron Wilder for the pin as the official makes the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

JOHNSON : “Well in the end, an Alpha Breaker was all it took!”

VASSA : “Yeah, but I really don’t think that tiger bomb helped the situation any more. My money is still on Erron Wilder needing a colostomy bag!!

Kaiden climbs to a knee with an arrogant smirk and looks around the arena before looking down at Erron and talking trash. He climbs to his feet and as the official goes to raise his hand in victory, Kaiden pulls his arm away and gives him a disgusted look. He brushes his wrist off where the official had tried to touch him as he paces around for a moment.

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

Cut to the backstage area where we see Gabriel Hartman, he’s desperately rushing to catch up with somebody. The camera operator tries to keep up, as we finally see just who it is that Hartman is trying to catch.

HARTMAN: “Bryan! Bryan, wait up a moment!”

We see Bryan Williams, dressed and dragging his luggage behind him. He stops in the middle of the hallway, turning to see Gabriel standing there.

WILLIAMS: “Make it quick, Hartman. I’m not in a good mood.”

Gabriel motions for the camera to follow him, the two quickly catching up with Bryan to make good on the little time that they have.

HARTMAN: “Not in a good mood? You were victorious out there tonight, what is there to be upset about?”

WILLIAMS: “There’s plenty of be upset about, I have a lot on my plate right now. Top everything off with an asshole of a tag team partner, things start to become old real quickly.”

The scene seems very tense, Bryan stands there with a sour look on his face. Gabriel squirms for a moment, adjusting his tie as he continues on with the interview.

HARTMAN: “Well I know that you’ve had a very busy week, lot of travel so far and now you have to go to Australia-”

Hartman can’t finish his sentence, as Bryan cuts him off.

WILLIAMS: “That’s right, I have to leave for Australia. I have to go and fight in Australia now, and then come right back to go home. There’s a lot of shit I have to deal with, I don’t need people like Jason Cashe making things worse.”

HARTMAN: “We saw you two interacting earlier tonight, is that what caused you to have such a mean streak in the ring? You beat Keith Daniels tonight, but looked very aggravated doing so.”

Bryan can’t help but smile, one out of frustration.

WILLIAMS: “It’s like this, Gabe, I’m in a very weird state right now. Emotions are high, I’m trying to calm myself down. I keep reminding myself, telling myself that in two weeks I won’t have to deal with this anymore. Bad Company approaches, and once I carry Jason Cashe through that tournament …and win it once more, I’ll feel a whole lot better about everything.”

HARTMAN: “What if you two win the titles during the tournament?”

Bryan stops dead in his tracks, almost like he didn’t realize that was an option. He slowly looks over towards Gabe.

WILLIAMS: “Why would you even suggest something like that? God, I swear…”

Bryan, shaking his head, ends the interview as he turns around and walks away. Obviously frustrated, he leaves without saying another word to Hartman. Gabriel stands there, sighing, as we cut away.

UNDERCARD
MADDOX LUCIEN VS. DAKOTA SMITH

JOHNSON: ”Well folks we’re just about ready to kick off some more in ring action! Our next bout pits Maddox Lucien against the former 4CW Champion, Dakota Smith!”

VASSA: ”Lucien is going to have his hands full tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”Yea, it’s going to be one hell of a match up and a big test for Lucien but we’ll see if he can stand toe to toe with Dakota Smith.”

VASSA: ”I can’t believe I’m going to be the one to say this, but let’s kick it out to Powers for the start of this match!”

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

“Bullet With A Name” by Nonpoint begins to play as the lights in the arena dim. A red hue fills the arena as Maddox Lucien walks out onto the ring entrance stage 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 and forty pounds. He is the man known as Violence! He is MADDOX LLUUCCIIEENN!!!”

Maddox starts walking down the ramp paying no attention to any fans until he reaches the bottom of the ramp. He makes like he’s going to backhand a fan and gives a smile 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.

JOHNSON: ”Maddox looks fierce right now and he’s looking pretty damn confident despite he’s about to go one on one with the former 4CW Champion.”

VASSA: ”I don’t think I’ve seen Maddox this focused before. He fucking wants those nuts! For all those very PG fuckers, that’s non slander for he wants this win badly!”

“Sludge GOd” begins to play over the sound system, the lights go dim as the theatre gets filled with a mix of boos and cheers. Out of the back comes Dakota Smith, a snarl on his face as he marches down to the ring.

“I’m a sludge God

I’m rather odd

Take your head like Mr Ichabod

Hit em hard showing no regard

Drag em through hell then I leave em scarred

Pull your card

Put u in the morgue

That’s just the way the LOC settle scores

Put me in the booth and press record

I serve em sludge and they beg for more”

POWERS: “Making his way down to the ring from The Depths of Hell, he weighs in at two hundred thirty one pounds and stands six feet, two inches tall. He is “The Butcher”, DAKOTA SSMMIITTHH!!!”

He makes no time to stop for the audience, that is until he reaches the ring. He then bounces from one foot to the other, looking around the arena. A slight smirk grows on his lips before he bolts into the ring and slides under the bottom rope. He plants his fists down on the mat and pushes himself up. Then he circles the ring a few times before going to his corner and taking a seat, waiting for the match to begin.

JOHNSON: ”Man there’s just something different about Dakota Smith. Ever since he lost the 4CW Championship to Jair Hopkins, he just hasn’t been the same.”

VASSA: ”Regardless of what it appears, Dakota still looks like he wants to murder a motherfucker and that lucky candidate could be Maddox here tonight. I do agree with you in that one aspect, Steve, he does seem to have a different auroa about him tonight. We’ll see how that plays out in this match.”

DING!!! DING!!!

And this match is officially underway as Lucien and Smith clash instantly in the middle of the ring. There is no test of strength between the two, but instead, a swarm of heavy lefts and rights being dished out between the two of them. Lucien eventually gets the upper hand as he takes Smith down with a side takedown headlock in the middle of the ring. Lucien attempts to tighten his hold, but Smith is able to power himself out. Lucien Irish whips him towards the ropes and looks to go for an uppercut, but Smith simply plants him with a shoulder block. Lucien gets back to his feet quickly but Smith charges at him and takes him down with a running knee lift that floors Lucien hard into the mat. Smith drops down for the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Smith with a nice reality check there for Lucien. Lucien may love violence, but The Butcher knows how to catch his opponents into a false sense of security.”

VASSA: ”More like a freight train in my humble opinion.”

Lucien hits the reset button as the two lock up again in the middle of the ring. This time, Lucien strikes swiftly out of the gates as he unleashes a violence combo dishing out a variety of moves on Smith. Lucien grabs Smith and Irish whips him again into the ropes and this time, instead of an uppercut, he goes straight towards Smith and ducks as Smith attempts to hit him with another shoulder attack, but Lucien fires back quickly as he hits Smith with an ensuguri to the temple of Smith sending him down into the mat. With Smith down, Lucien takes further advantage as he heads to the top rope quickly. As Smith reaches his feet, Lucien dives off and plants a firm missile dropkick to Smith taking him out. Lucien goes for the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Great offensive execution there by Lucien. Lucien seems to have the momentum on his side for the time being.”

VASSA: ”The time being is right, Steve. Lucien is putting on an awesome clinic right now, but it’s only a matter of time before Dakota gets his shit together.”

Lucien stays on Smith as he sends some soccer kicks to the back of Smith. After a few strikes to Smith, Lucien bounces off the ropes and comes back towards Smith and delivers a stiff head crank face punch to Smith. Smith grabs a hold of his face as he gets back to his feet. Smith can’t capitalize quickly, though, as Lucien comes back at Smith and is able to hit him with a crossbody attack. Lucien doesn’t stop there, though, as he’s able to connect a hatch suplex on Smith as he goes for the cover once again.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Lucien is absolutely taking it to Dakota! Lucien has been able to keep the tempo in his favor and if he continues this course of action, Dakota could be in a lot of trouble!”

VASSA: ”Very impressive with Lucien’s strategy right now. You don’t want to give The Butcher time to execute his practically deadly arsenal on anyone. Lucien knows this and he’s exposing that with every boldness of his being.”

Lucien grabs a hold of Smith arm and begins to work it over as he hits an arm wrench DDT before finishing it off with a fireman’s carry. Lucien grabs Dakota and backs into the corner turnbuckle as he attempts to go for a tornado DDT but Dakota responds quickly by literally tossing Lucien, as he goes air born into the canvas. Lucien is able to get back up to his feet quickly but turns right into a stunner from Smith which sends Lucien hard into the mat. Smith follows that up by immediately grabbing Lucien and sends him straight into the mat with a snap DDT. Dakota pushes Lucien over and goes for the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”And there it is and it appears Smith has just taken control of this matchup.”

VASSA: ”It was only a matter of time before Smith was going to get his shit together. Now Smith is making him pay! Nothing comes free on The Butcher…NOTHING!”

Smith mounts Lucien and just starts unreeling on him relentlessly with a flurry of wildly thrown punches with such precision into the face of Lucien. Smith doesn’t stop the relentless attacks there, though, as he literally grabs Lucien and irish whips him into the corner turnbuckle. Lucien’s back ricochets off the turnbuckle and Lucien steps forward towards Dakota as Dakota grabs him and chokeslams him back into the turnbuckle but this time causes Lucien to drop in the corner. Smith takes a few steps forward and starts to hammer away at Lucien with a flurry of mudhole stomps. Smith then grabs Lucien and hits a jumping neckbreaker on Lucien as he goes hard into the canvas. Smith drops for the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: ”Man Dakota is literally punishing the holy hell out of Lucien here! For a moment there, I thought that was it for Lucien but Lucien is hanging tough with the former 4CW Champion!”

VASSA: ”What did I tell you, Steve? Don’t let Dakota take control of this match because he will find five hundred fucking ways to wish you had never been born!”

Smith grabs Lucien and ricochets him off the ropes before delivering a thunderous military press spinebuster that rocks Lucien’s back hard into the canvas. Lucien grabs a hold of his back as he slowly gets back to his feet as Dakota grabs him and attempts a snap powerbomb but Lucien is able to counter that and sends Dakota into the mat instead with a back/neckbreaker combo. Lucien runs to the side ropes and goes for a springboard moonsault, but Dakota brings up his knees as Lucien crashes into the knees and is sent into the mat holding onto his midsection. Lucien and Smith are able to get to their feet around the same time as they both bounce off the ropes and collide in the center of the ring with each executing a crossbody.

JOHNSON: ”Oh that looked sick! Both these guys are going deep in their arsenals and arrived at a stalemate with that last sequence.”

VASSA: ”They are both similar when it comes to dishing out a dish of violence, but it has literally backfired on both of them and it looks like we’re at a standstill here!”

Both men are able to get back to their feet after a few moments lying on the mat. Once again, both Dakota and Maddox start to fire away lefts and rights just like this match started as they continue to put their own respective moves on the other. Dakota strikes Lucien in the ribs and picks him up over his shoulders as he attempts to connect with the Dovah Death Drop, but Lucien sends a series of elbows into the side of Dakota’s face as he fights him for control back on his feet. Maddox strikes as he Irish whips Dakota before attempting a Violent Buster but Smith is able to counter that and grabs him from behind and delivers a German suplex on Lucien straight in the turnbuckle.

JOHNSON: ”Man did you hear the impact on that suplex into the turnbuckle?! That didn’t only not sound the best out of that cringe worthy move, but Dakota could have broken Lucien’s back with that move!”

VASSA: ”Marquee moves there by The Butcher and uh oh, holy mother dick, he’s starting to get in that mode that makes him so fucking dangerous! Dakota is now smelling blood in the water! Dakota’s momentum meter just went up and you can tell with the look on his face!”

Dakota shakes his head as he’s looking to put the final hurting on Lucien here as Dakota slowly picks Lucien up from the mat as he eyes him with a crazed look on his face. Dakota brings Lucien to his feet as he Irish whips Lucien into the ropes. As Lucien comes back towards Dakota, Dakota grabs him and is able to deliver the Dovah Death Drop clashing Lucien’s back with the canvas. Dakota is absolutely pumped up and instead of going for the pin, Dakota shakes his head as it looks like he wants to dish out more pain onto Lucien. Dakota heads up to the top rope as he eyes Lucien. But as he does, Lucien is able to get back to his feet as Dakota dives off only to be taken out by a hard dropkick to the face. Dakota is stunned and doesn’t immediately fall into the mat as Lucien strikes him and picks him up and is able to hit the Violent Buster on him leveling Dakota into the mat hard. Lucien acts quickly and after executing that spinebuster, he instantly has Dakota in a pin move as the cover is made.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

JOHNSON: ”HOLY CRAP!! LUCIEN HAS PINNED THE FORMER 4CW CHAMPION!”

VASSA: ”How in the blue balled fuck did he do that?!”

POWERS: ”Here is your winner….MMADDOX LLUUCCIIEENN!!!”

JOHNSON: ”UNBELIEVABLE! I think I speak for everyone in the arena tonight…I don’t think anyone saw that one coming!”

VASSA: ”That just goes to show you that anything can happen here in 4CW! I will say, though, I wasn’t expecting Dakota to make a move like that!”

JOHNSON: ”Well mistakes can be made, I guess! Dakota wanted to inflict a lot of damage on Lucien but it apparently backfired and that could have been the move that cost Dakota here tonight.”

VASSA: ”I don’t know if it’s because Dakota’s mind has been elsewhere or not, but Dakota has lost more than his heart here in 4CW, it looks like that’s starting to effect some of the things he does in his matches.”

JOHNSON: ”At any rate, Dakota is going to have to find answers for that tough loss. Hopefully everything he said about him losing his heart doesn’t take away what he’s been wowing all of us with as of late. Tough loss for Dakota, but a big win for Maddox Lucien here tonight!”

UNDERCARD
FATE CHAMPIONSHIP
PERSEPHONE MARQUIS VS. GENEVIE ©
w/ GUEST REFEREE LYZA REYES

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: “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 a black and white striped ref’s shirt, 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 looks on at the entranceway waiting for the challenger to show up.

JOHNSON: “Insert Lyza, looking ready to fulfill her referee duties tonight. This was a controversial booking, as we saw Miss Reyes take the win over Genevie at Adrenaline 50. With a match of this caliber, there is no room for mistakes on the officiating side!”

VASSA: “I don’t blame The Boston Genie for what she said about Lyza being the guest referee for this match. This is a conflict of interest for all involved!”

With the intro of the song out of the way, Persephone makes her way onto the stage; a large and almost condescending smile on her face as she heads down the ramp. Some men in the audience extend money toward her in an attempt to get her attention, while others even go as far as yelling their impressive occupations and positions to her. At some points she pretends to be interested before continuing on; snatching some man’s waving money and not giving him the time of the day. Folding the cash and stuffing it into her wrestling top.

POWERS: “Introducing the challenger, hailing from Manhattan, New York… PERSEPHONE MMAARRQQUUIISS!!!”

“These hoes ain’t loyal!”

She enters the ring and waits in her corner for the match to start, sitting on the turnbuckle with her legs crossed; with her patronizing smirk. Lyza is at the opposite side of Persephone, eyeing the stage for the upcoming Genevie.

VASSA: “The woman of the hour is almost here!”

The arena is abuzz as the fans wait in anticipation for what’s next for them. The lights brighten for the next star about to come out. The big screens come a light as the beginning guitar riffs to “Porn Star Dancing” hit the sound system. There’s a pause before Genevie makes her way out from behind the curtain just as the words of the song begin. She smiles brightly as the crowd boos her appearance and then rolls her eyes and shakes her head. She raises her title High in the air, As she shakes her hips and body along to the lyrics of the song, disregarding everyone else. After a few moments she begins making her way to the ring with a sexy strut, the smirk never leaving her face.

POWERS: : “Ladies and Gentlemen coming to the ring weighing in at One Hundred and Thirty Five pounds, from Boston, Massachusetts, she is The FATE CHAMPION….GENEVVVVVIIIIEEE!

At this point Genevie has made her way to the ring apron. She’ll pose seductively against the ropes before puckering her lips and giving a wink to the crowd. This gets lots of boos but some of the males of the audience whistle and throw cheers her way. She places her belt on her shoulder and slides between the middle rope, letting the crowd admire her almost spilling out cleavage from one angle and her butt cheeks slipping out of her shorts from the other angle before smirking and climbing the rest of the way in the ring, taking the belt off her shoulder and holding it high in the air, taunting the crowd letting them know she’s the best and nobody will ever be better as her music slowly starts to fade out she holds a hand up to the booing crowd and looks away with disgust.

JOHNSON: “Genevie never fails to make her entrance with confidence. If she keeps this present in her match, she can indeed successfully defend her Fate title tonight against Persephone.”

VASSA: “That would make King Perry proud, to keep the Fate Title within 4CW Royalty, as it should be!”

Reyes is seen stretching her arms, with her right elbow over the left and vice versa. She eyes both women, who’re ready to go at any moment. With a slight turn of her heels, she signals for the bell!

DING!!! DING!!!

JOHNSON: “And here we go, ladies and gents!”

Both Genevie and Persephone respond to the sound of the bell like a bull seeing red. Lyza steps to the side, as the women charge at one another toward the center of the ring. In a swift (almost blur-like) motion, Persephone ducks as Genie takes a swing at her. The Fate Champion continues to aim right and left hands at Persephone, until she backs her into a corner. She manages to get her hands on Persephone, holding her shoulders against the turnbuckle as she knees the challenger several times in the midsection.

VASSA: “The more you upset Genie, the worse it’ll be for her opponent. Persephone is no exception!”

JOHNSON: “I wouldn’t dismiss Persephone just yet! The former Uprising talent is the one with nothing to lose tonight!”

VASSA: “Maybe some teeth! Wouldn’t Jason Cashe love that?! Ha!!”

Johnson’s mic manages to pick up the sound of a faint sigh. Persephone shows stamina as the knee thrusts doesn’t wear her down quick enough to Genie’s liking. After a count from Lyza, the two separate. As Genie backs up, she is taken down with a clothesline from Persephone. Genie falls on the mat, landing on her bottom, with a slight bounce on the canvas. Persephone reaches over, grabbing Genie by the throat. She slams her head against the canvas several times. Before Lyza can separate them, Genie out-muscles Persephone pushing her off. Persephone rolls over, getting to her feet quickly, with Genie doing the same. The two now on their feet, eye one another as they try to figure out what their opponent’s next move is going to be.

JOHNSON: “This looks like a round of rock, paper, scissors, but who will draw what?!”

VASSA: “Scissors from both parties, I hope.”

A smirk comes across Genie’s face as she makes a “tossing garbage in a trash bin” gesture with her right hand (trash emoji, if you must.) Persephone kicks Genie’s hand, causing the Fate Champion to stumble back, wincing in pain. She points at her hand, mouthing “too far!” Persephone shrugs her shoulders, grinning sheepishly. Lyza covers her mouth, yawning at the lack of action, as Genie nurses her throbbing hand.

JOHNSON: “Genie may wake up with a catcher’s mitt of a hand tomorrow morning after that kick by Persephone.”

VASSA: “That was very brutal, I’ll give her that.”

As a consequence of this entitled generation, the fans begin to get restless and boo as they have no regard for the condition of the Princess’ hand. Persephone uses this moment of vulnerability of her opponent to engage in what seems like an embrace, however, she connects with a hip toss. With Genie on her back, Persephone kicks Genie repeatedly, until Genie catches her foot and swiftly takes her down. Caught by surprise, Persephone hits her head hard on the canvas, as Lyza makes an “eek” expression.

VASSA: “Marquis has got to be seeing stars right now!”

JOHNSON: “She better snap out of it right now! Eli Carlson is making his way over here!”

Elijah Carlson is seen in his street attire, walking towards the commentator’s table. He pulls back a chair, taking his seat as he puts on a headset to join Vassa and Johnson on the action.

VASSA: “Eazy E is in the house! Welcome!”

CARLSON: ”Thank you, thank you. It’s good to be out here, seeing these two go at it. And to think the three of us could’ve been wrestling with diarrhea in Mexico. Don’t drink the water, bro.”

JOHNSON: “This is still anyone’s game. Although, not as well versed as our other officials, Lyza has not demonstrated any favoritism over anyone.”

CARLSON: ”I am certain Genie had something to do with setting her straight. She’s got that effect on people, rawr. LOOK AT THAT!”

Genie pulls Persephone from the canvas, whipping her into the ropes with tremendous force. She then catches the challenger, and takes her down into the mat with a sharp spinebuster! She drops down, and goes for the cover on Persephone. Lyza finally perking up, does what she’s been assigned to do…

ONE

.

.

TW–

JOHNSON: “A kickout before 2!”

VASSA: “It’s muscle memory, nothing crazy.”

CARLSON: ”Someone has bit the bait…excuse me, gents.”

Eli removes his headset, and gets up from his seat. He walks around ringside, catching a glimpse of the two women exchanging left and right hands. Lyza makes eye contact with Eli for a second, until he walks away from ringside, approaching the ramp.

JOHNSON: “Jason Cashe is walking down the ramp…This cannot be good.”

VASSA: “He’s here for moral support of his…business partner, it makes sense if you ask me.”

Not paying attention to the men outside of the ring, the women interlock one another. Genie uses her strength as an advantage to set up Persephone with a belly to belly suplex. The sound of Persephone’s body hitting the mat can be heard throughout the venue. Genie picks up Persephone again, going for a German suplex, however, while holding her, she spots Cashe and Carlson having a shoving match of sorts at the edge of the ramp. Persephone slips out of Genie’s hold, and sneaks a rollup pin. Lyza gets close, and makes the count…

ONE

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

VASSA: “It’s gonna take more than that to put the Genie away.”

JOHNSON: “Just as Cashe and Carlson are having a brawl outside the ring, security are making their way to the stage!”

VASSA: “So white knighting is out of the question for these ladies.”

Persephone smacks Genie across the face in frustration, and picks her up from the mat to whip her into the ropes. As Genie bounces from the ropes, Persephone proceeds to hit Genie with a chop across the chest. Lyza cringes at the chop, totally relating to the pain Genie is currently feeling at the moment. Persephone then grabs Genie, getting her into a headlock and converting it into a DDT. Genie lands on the mat in a pushup position. Stunned, Persephone takes several steps back, and charges at Genie with a dropkick. Genie stumbles back, hunching over in pain. Persephone mocks her opponent by pretending to hold a newborn in her arms. Genie snarls at Persephone before charging at her with a forearm smash!

JOHNSON: “And a vicious takedown by Genie after that forearm. She’s looking for the cover, but Persephone escapes!”

Genie leg sweeps Persephone from behind, having her hit the mat. She then picks up Persephone, setting her up for The Boston Genie. Persephone manages to escape Genie again, reversing it into a double knee backbreaker. Both women are down, however, Persephone gets to her feet quickly, pulling a slightly disoriented Genie up as well. Persephone rushes over to the ropes, planting both feet on the second rope, and bounces off to connect with the Petty Cash on Genie!

JOHNSON: “Persephone goes for the cover! Will this be it?!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

”Loyall” plays throughout the venue as Persephone rises to her feet. Lyza hands the Fate Championship to the New Yorker. An arrogant smirk forms across Persephone’s face, as her arm is raised in victory.

POWERS: “Here is your winner and new 4CW Fate Champion… PERSEPHONE MMAARRQQUUIISS”

She then releases the hold, and looks down at Genie who is seen rolling out of the ring with a look of anger on her face. Lyza steps back, observing the Fate Championship before Persephone goes on to make her rounds to proudly display the belt to the fans.

VASSA: “NO! This isn’t real! This can’t be happening…I am not buying it!”

JOHNSON: “Persephone knew how to get in her opponent’s head, the men coming out here may have done more than what we’re led to believe. This will be interesting in the upcoming days.”

VASSA: “What are Perry and Kaysie going to think?!”

JOHNSON: “It doesn’t matter what they think. The match is over and done, we have a new champion.”

VASSA: “MARRRR-QUEEF!!!”

The camera goes backstage here in the X-Cel Energy arena where Gabriel Hartman veteran 4CW interviewer can be seen standing near the exit to the parking lot with his microphone in hand. Gabriel brushes his free hand down over the front of his shirt before getting the signal from the cameraman. Gabriel clears his throat and raises his microphone up to his lips.

HARTMAN: ”Ladies and gentleman my guest at this time is one half of the 4CW World Tag Team Champions and the current 4CW XTV Champion. Please welcome Jason P. Davidson.”

The camera pans back to show Jason P. Davidson walk up beside Gabriel with the XTV Championship belt over his right shoulder and the 4CW World Tag Team Championship belt around his waist.

HARTMAN: ”Later tonight you will be defending the XTV Championship belt against the likes of Lord Raab and Randall Kash in a triple threat no holds barred match. However it was earlier tonight that you had an altercation with one Johnny Evil. Did that skirmish do anything that will affect your performance in the main event?”

J.DAVIDSON: ”Are you kidding me, Hartman? I took on the entire 4CW roster at Ante Up to capture the 4CW XTV Championship belt and it’s going to take a lot fucking more than Johnny Evil to take it away from me. He’s lucky I didn’t shatter his knee like I did Sonny Lee’s and ended his 4CW career before he even started. I am a mega star. I am the Perfect Vision of 4CW’s New Era and tonight in the middle of my ring for the entire world to see. I will completely and utterly obliterate two other living human beings. Not because they deserve it. Not even because I have to. But simply to show the gap in their talent and mine is way too great to overcome.”

HARTMAN: ”Aren’t you worried that this match being under triple threat rules means your chances of losing the XTV Championship belt are that much greater? You don’t even have to be pinned or made to submit and still lose the belt.”

Jason narrows his eyes and shakes his head as he adjusts the XTV Championship belt on his right shoulder before he looks down at Hartman.

J.DAVIDSON: ”Do I look like some green behind the ears rookie to you? Do I look like someone that hasn’t been in this business long enough to understand how a triple threat match works? I’ve been in promotion after promotion from here all the way over to Japan and you know what the one common factor in each company was? That was Championship gold around my gorgeous fucking waist. If you think a guy with only two wins in his 4CW career and another guy that probably won’t win two matches this entire year is going to be enough to take this belt away from me then you have no idea the level of greatness that stands here beside you.”

HARTMAN: ”Lord Raab has been a staple in the XTV division for years and one of the most brutal individuals to ever step foot into 4CW. He took a man like Randall Kash last week to his absolute limits and almost turned him into a human pin cushion. How do you plan to stop a man that’s willing to hurt himself just for the chance to hurt you?”

J.DAVIDSON: ”By simply moving out of the fucking way and letting him snap his own neck. You see unlike Randall Kash I’m not some big goofy looking ogre that can’t take two steps to the left or two the right without tripping over his own feet. I’m not just going to stand there and let Lord Raab use my face for target practice. Practically everyone that has been in 4CW for longer than five minutes has figured out how to beat Lord Raab. It took that big goofy fuck nearly thirty minutes and my assistance to get the job done. Fucking pathetic the both of them which is why I came down in the first place. I was tired of less talented individuals such as themselves giving the XTV division a bad name.”

HARTMAN: ”So I take it you’re also not concerned about the obvious size and strength advantage that Randall Kash has going into this match? I don’t care how quick you are because if he gets one of those big paws on you then he could literally break you in half!”

Jason begins chuckling out loud as he rolls his neck around side to side trying to loosen it up. He lets his feet hand slide down and rest on top of the 4CW World Tag Team Championship belt around his waist.

J.DAVIDSON: ”Really? Break me in half? Is that what he did to Lord Raab last week, Hartman? The way I remember is that he took Lord Raab someone whose skull is probably the same consistency of the inside of a Cadbury egg. He gave him his best shot and then had to make up the excuse that he let him kick out just to cover for the fact that he couldn’t get the job done until I lent him a helping hand. Size and strength men nothing when you can’t muster enough mental capacity to power a night light. I have one suggestion, one last piece of advice for the two of you before you face your death sentence out there in the middle of that ring.

Jason reaches up and grabs Hartman by the wrist and raises the microphone up higher towards him as the camera zooms in close.

J.DAVIDSON: ”Abandon whatever hatred you have between the two of you. Bury whatever hatchet you’re harboring towards each other from last week. You don’t need to look at this as a triple threat match. You need to look at it as Randall Kash and Lord Raab versus Jason P. Davidson. You need to look at this as a joint assault because I’m telling you that’s the only way either you stand even the slightest chance at victory. I helped you get that big second win on the last Adrenaline Randall so now you need to accept Raab’s help and hope…pray that somehow two can rub the three remaining brain cells you have combined together and spark a decent plan of attack. Think long and hard about it because if you don’t? I’m going to drive the bottom of my boot through the back of yours skulls so hard you’re going to wish for death. Make peace with your God, boys. You’re facing him in the ring tonight!”

Davidson smirks and then raises his XTV Championship belt high into the air. JPD lowers the belt and heads down the hallway leaving Hartman standing near the parking lot exit as we head back to the ringside area.

HEADLINE
BRIAN HOLLYWOOD VS. JAIR HOPKINS

“Perfect Insanity” by Disturbed blasts over the PA as the lights in the arena start to dim. A few flashes of light and the sound of thunder can be heard in the background as Brian Hollywood makes his way from the back. The crowd gives off a mixed reaction at his arrival. Hollywood is in his black attire and is wearing his black trench coat as he centers himself on the stage.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California, weighing in at two hundred twenty pounds and standing six feet, one inch tall… ‘Mr. Executive’, BRIAN HHOOLLLLYYWWOOOODD!!!”

Hollywood tugs on his trench coat as he walks down the ramp. As he does, a breeze is released blowing his trench coat back and forth as he arrives to the apron near the ring. Hollywood looks about the crowd and squints his eyes as if he’s looking carefully through out the crowd. The crowd gives off a mixed reaction as Hollywood makes his way up the steel steps and enters the ring. Hollywood looks about the ring before heading to the top rope and looking about the crowd. Hollywood closes his eyes and slowly raises his hands on both sides as if to praise himself or being in a false sense of delusion that he is being praised by the crowd which gives off another mixed reaction. Hollywood finally makes his way down as he takes off the trench coat and rests in the corner, awaiting for the sound of the bell.

VASSA: ”I’ll tell ya what, Steve, Hollywood has that look in his eye tonight. If our champion isn’t ready to go from the start he might be in for a rude awakening.”

JOHNSON: ”We both know that anything can happen on any given Wednesday here on Adrenaline.”

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

“I’m a bread winner, you wanna make a fortune?

Place all your money on the black and on the red, n—

This ain’t a gamble, it’s a promise, I’m a head splitter

Y’all been sleepin’ on me, now it’s time to shake the bed, n—“

As “Self-Preservation” by Kutt Calhoun starts up, Hopkins appeared from the back, the only thing shining was the 4CW Championship belt around his waist as his appearance drew a large amount of cheers. Those who remained on the other side of the fence tried to wash out the sounds of the loud cheers but they remained strong. The soft-white spotlight followed Hopkins as he slowly made his way to the ramp and down it, arms out wide as he takes the moment all in.

POWERS: “From the “Concrete Jungle” in Brooklyn, New York, he stands at five feet, eight inches and weighs in at two hundred two pounds. He is the 4CW Champion, JAIR HHOOPPKKIINNSS!!!”

“I am the last of a dying breed

Live by one code that some gon’ heed

Get rich or die tryin’ so I don’t sleep

So cold in these streets I’m Kelvin”

The lights come back to normal as Hopkins continues on, he goes left, going down the ramp as he slaps all the hands that are reaching out. Looking to his right, he goes up and does the same on the right side, getting them all as well. He finally makes it all the way down and with a speed burst, he rolls underneath the bottom ring ropes as he gets to his feet and immediately climbs the nearest turnbuckle. Unwrapping the title from around his waist, he holds it up high in the air, showing it off as the camera flashes catches every frame of movement. Dropping down soon after, he moves around the ring as he waits for the match to begin.

VASSA: ”Who are you taking tonight, Steve? Personally my money is on Hollywood.”

JOHNSON: ”It could easily go either way but it’s always difficult to beat someone who has the sort of momentum our champ, Jair Hopkins, ha-”

VASSA: ”LOOK OUT JAIR!”

Hollywood starts off the action before the referee can officially begin the match, launching himself at the unsuspecting champion, forcing him into his own corner. The two trade punches briefly but Hollywood gets the early advantage, stunning Hopkins with a series of knife edge chops to the chest before the referee squeezes his way between the two to try and get some separation so that the match can officially begin. Finally, Hollywood backs away with his hands raised in the air indicating that he was done. Hopkins, on the other hand, wasn’t done and quickly shoved the referee out of the way before charging at Hollywood, lowering his shoulder and ramming him into the opposite corner.

He then responds with two chops to the chest of his own that clearly sting as Hollywood stumbles out of the corner to try and get away and takes a moment to catch his breath, leaning on the ropes. Hopkins sees the opportunity and sprints across the ring, bouncing off of the ropes and rebounding at full speed in the direction of his opponent. Hollywood scouts the coming attack, however, and bends forward, elevating Hopkins over his head and over the top rope before stepping towards the center of the ring.

Jair, showing off his agility, lands adeptly with both feet on the ring apron. Just as Hollywood turns around, Hopkins leaps and uses the top rope as a springboard, clotheslining Hollywood to the mat. Seizing the opportunity, the referee orders Hopkins back to his corner and forces him to stay there until Hollywood can recover. When he does, the ref sends him back to his own corner and then signals for the bell to finally get the match underway.

JOHNSON: ”Well we’ve had some good action before the match officially began. It looks like both men are going to be on their game tonight.”

VASSA: ”Indeed, Hollywood seems like he’s going to take advantage of every opportunity but the question is, will it be enough? Already the champ seems to have an answer for everything he’s throwing at him.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Both men circle the ring cautiously sizing each other up, slowing the pace of the match down greatly. Hopkins reaches out with one hand, to which Hollywood responds by reaching out briefly with his own before withdrawing it and planting a stiff kick to the champions stomach before sending him into the ropes with an irish whip. Hopkins rebounds and ducks under an attempted lariat by Hollywood, halting in his tracks immediately while reaching back to wrap his arms around the neck of his opponent, dropping him to the mat with a quick neckbreaker.

The two immediately bounce back up to their feet, this time Hopkins swings wildly trying to take his opponents head off, which Hollywood ducks under and retaliates with a neckbreaker of his own. Again both men swiftly get back up but Hollywood scouts Hopkins ducking under his attempted clothesline and spins to catch Hopkins turning around after he had ducked under, planting him to the mat with a power slam and following up with a quick cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

VASSA: ”Going to take more than that to put the champion away, Brian.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m sure he knows that, Vinny. Just making the champ work a little bit while he has the advantage.”

Indeed, Hopkins had kicked out but Hollywood wasn’t about to let him get out of his grasp. Immediately, Brian swings one leg across the torso of the champion, mounting him before delivering vicious strikes to the forehead. It’s all that Hopkins can do to cover up and defend himself, being completely at the mercy Brian Hollywood until the referee steps in to give a five count and force Hollywood to allow Jair a moment’s separation. That’s all the champ needs, however, to gather his wits enough to land a stiff punch to Hollywoods stomach. Instantly, Hopkins is up to his feet, wrapping his arm around Hollywoods neck and planting him face first into the mat with a well executed DDT.

Back on his feet, Hopkins positions himself quickly and leaps, landing a solid jumping elbow drop before standing again, jumping, and landing a jumping leg drop before once again standing up, this time leaping and executing a flawless standing corkscrew moonsault. Instead of covering for the pin, however, he rolls off of Hollywood and shoves him over so that he is laying face down on the mat, locking in a fujiwara armbar with Hollywood trapped in the middle of the ring.

JOHNSON: ”And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you do not EVER underestimate Jair Hopkins.”

VASSA: ”Hollywood’s in trouble and just look at the champ wrenching that arm. Ugh, I think I’m going to be sick.”

JOHNSON: ”This shoes are worth more than your entire life, Vassa, don’t you even think of doing what you’re thinking of doing.”

Jair torques the arm of Hollywood even more, causing him to cry out in pain but still he refuses to tap out. With the referee in his face, and Jair screaming at the pinstriped official to ask him, Hollywood shakes his head no and begins to work towards the ropes. Doing so, however, forces him to contort his arm and shoulder in a way that clearly the human body should be able to do, again eliciting further cries of agony from the challenger. Hopkins continues to pull on his arm but eventually, after nearly a minute of the submission hold being applied, Hollywood gets his foot on the rope and the referee forces Jair to break the hold.

As the champion gets back to his feet, he catches movement out of the corner of his eye and turns towards the top of the entrance ramp where he locks eyes with none other than Dakota Smith, who has appeared out of the backstage area holding a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken in his right hand, while his left holds a drumstick that he is gnawing away happily on. No, it’s not human flesh but it’s the next best thing surely. Crudely, the bucket has duct tape taped across the logo and in black sharpie marker the words “Hopkins Mom’s Chicken” have been written. Though Jair can’t yet see that himself, the Adrenaline camera crew has, and focuses on it for the Showtime audience to see.

VASSA: ”There’s Dakota Smith and I’ll be he’s here to send a message to Jair. He wants his title back surely.”

JOHNSON: ”Astute commentary there, Vinny. Not feeling sick anymore?”

VASSA: ”No, but do you think Dakota would share some of his chicken with me?”

JOHNSON: ”I wouldn’t be so sure that’s chicken.”

Slowly, Dakota walks down the ramp, closing the distance between him and the man who took “his” championship at Ante up. Jair, meanwhile, jaws at him for a bit and then encourages him to get into the ring with him, ever the fighting champion being unwilling to back down from anyone who thought to threaten him. Dakota only smirks as he finally reaches the bottom of the ramp, tossing the bone of the leg of chicken he had just finished into the crowd. With both hands he then extended the bucket of chicken to Jair, as though he was offering him a gift, with a wide grin on his face.

Meanwhile, behind Hopkins, Hollywood has been given the time he needed to catch his breath and gain his bearings. Seeing the distraction, he drops to a knee and hooks his arm between Jair’s legs, surprising the champ and dragging him down to the mat for a schoolboy pin. In a flash the referee slides in.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

TH-KICKOUT!!!

The two scramble back to their feet and exchange blows before Hopkins gets the upperhand with a dropkick to Hollywoods knee. Quickly, Jair moves behind Hollywood and wraps his arms around the mans waist, tossing him over his head with a release german suplex that leaves Hollywood laying in near the corner. With all the momentum in his favor, Jair bounces back up to his feat and lets out a guttaral shout that gets the crowd cheering, sensing what’s coming next as he moves to the corner to climb the turnbuckle. Steadying himself at the top, Hopkins doesn’t wait long to take the leap that has won him countless matches, flipping once and landing with his feet squarely on the chest of Brian Hollywood. OMFG!

VASSA: ”IT’S OVER! OMFG BY JAIR HOPKINS AND THE COVER! WHY ISNT THE REFEREE COUNTING?!”

The referee wasn’t counting because Dakota had positioned himself perfectly to be able to trip the referee “accidentally”, distracting the man from doing his job. When the zebra striped official turned to lecture him, Dakota’s face was a mask of innocence and confusion before deciding the best solution was to offer the referee some of his chicken as well. Not having any of it, the referee gave Dakota a stern warning before turning back to find an angry and pleading Jair Hopkins imploring him to do his job and count the pinfall. Surprised by the scene before him, the referee immediately dropped to the mat.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THRE–KICKOUT!!!

Frustrated, Jair slaps the mat and shouts at the referee before pulling Hollywood back to his feet as he stood. Hopkins sends Hollywood into the ropes but the challenger rebounds with a flying axe handle to the chest that knocks Hopkins down. Both men running on adrenaline bounce back up to their feet. Hollywood misses with a right hand but ducks under an enziguri, catching Hopkins around the waist and attempting a high release german suplex, which somehow Hopkins manages to get his feet underneath him and land without any harm befalling him. Hollywood turns and is met with a standing high knee that stuns him. Instead of transitioning it into a bulldog, Hopkins takes off towards the ropes.

JOHNSON: ”What an absolute show these two are putting on.”

Hopkins slides under the bottom rope and pulls himself up on the ring apron, leaping again to use the top rope as a springboard. His best efforts to take Hollywood down with a springboard ddt are rewarded harsly, however, as Hollywood catches him with THE PAPER CUT, laying him out on the mat. Sensing the swift change in momentum, Hollywood backs off to the corner and waits for Hopkins to get to his feet.

VASSA: ”Oh boy the champ is in trouble now, Steve.”

As Jair struggles back to his feet, Hollywood lines him up and as soon as he is upright steps towards him and seemingly tries to break the mans jaw with the stiffest superkick anyone has ever seen, but Hopkins manages to duck under. Hollywood senses the danger, though, and spins just in time to meet Jair with a kick to the stomach.

JOHNSON: ”LAYOFF! HOLLYWOOD JUST HIT HIM WITH THE LAYOFF!”

VASSA: ”AND THE COVER!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”I can’t believe what I’ve just witnessed! Hollywood took out the champ just like I said he would!”

JOHNSON: ”This is the sort of career defining night that Hollywood needs to elevate his career path. What a night for him.”

VASSA: ”And for Dakota Smith, who looks rather pleased with the outcome doesn’t he?”

The smirk on Dakota’s face told everyone exactly how he felt about what he had just witnessed. Hollywood, just now getting to his feet, has a grin ear to ear as his hand is raised in victory. With a salute, Dakota raises his bucket of chicken to the victor and begins to head back up the entrance ramp to the back, leaving Hollywood to have his hand raised in the center of the ring.

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

POWERS: “Here is your winner, BRIAN HHOOLLLLYYWWOOOODD!!!”

We shift backstage inside of the X-Cel Energy Arena to of all places a restroom. As we make our way inside the men’s facilities smoke starts to creep close to the floor like fog in a dewy meadow. As we go further into the restroom we see where the smoke originated from, the handicap restroom stall. There is a thick cloud of smoke hovering above the top of the stall, and without further ado, the head nigga in charge, it’s an A not the ER so it’s ok, Perry Wallace comes bursting out of the stall faster than a retard doing power walking at the Special Olympics. As Perry takes another hit he is suddenly frightened by the sound of a familiar voice.

VOICE: “Are you fucking serious?!?!?!?”

The voice shouts as Perry falls back into the handicap stall and onto the floor. As Perry rubs the back of his head he looks up and sees the former XTV champion and the current one-third co-holder of the tag team championships, Scott Stevens, with a towel covering his face and mouth staring down at him. Perry doesn’t look amused as he picks up his sunglasses off of the disgusting, concrete floor and stands up.

WALLACE: “What the fuck Stevens?”

Perry says as he stands in front of the Texan.

WALLACE: “You trying to go man to man with me or something faggot?”

Stevens shakes his head no and slowly removes the towel from his mouth to speak.

STEVENS: “Do you know how much contaminants you are filling the air right now? This isn’t healthy my friend, I mean seriously, if I get drug tested, I could get fired. Smoking weed in the workplace is bad for business man. I mean Boardwalk doesn’t tolerate it. You should think of your employees Perry because they shouldn’t lose their jobs because you like to pretend you’re Willie Nelson.”

Stevens says with a smirk.

WALLACE: “First off, fuck Boardwalk. Second, we don’t drug test, and third I do whatever the fuck I want mother fucker.”

Perry informs Stevens as he slides his sunglasses onto his face to cover his bloodshot eyes.

WALLACE: “And besides that, why are you blowing my high right now?”

STEVENS: “That’s the million dollar question because I want to know why I’m not wrestling tonight?”

WALLACE: “Because I didn’t book you stupid.”

Perry bluntly states.

STEVENS: “You haven’t booked me since the pay-per-view and while I do enjoy sitting at home collecting the Randy Fields kind of money you are paying me, I want to compete. That is why I came to 4CW to compete against the best a Bottom Four kind of fed has to offer.”

WALLACE: “Bottom four? Mother fucker please! If you want to get in a 4CW ring, then I’ll do you a solid. You want to get paid? I got you, but first, I’m going to finish this doob and take my ass back inside.”

STEVENS: “That’s all I want, and remember to recycle that toilet paper attached to your shoe.”

Stevens says with a grin before leaving Perry all by his lonesome.

WALLACE: “Lonesome loser mother fucker…”

The cameras once again take an adventure to the backstage area and once again, the anger-riled face of Jair Hopkins steered the halls clear of everyone as he was back on his path to find and destroy Dakota Smith. Sweat running off his face and body for that fact, he was welding that bat proudly as he wanted to smack a home run to cap off his night. He begins entering more of a darker portion of the backstage as there wasn’t as many lights, lighting up the way. Hopkins could barely be seen but you could hear him definitely…

HOPKINS: “WHERE YOU AT BOY? … I AIN’T GOT ALL NIGHT!”

Making sure he was heard for wherever Dakota hid, Jair made sure to progress carefully as it was dark. The cameraman flipped on the bright light from the cameras as Hopkins quickly obliged.

HOPKINS: “Turn that shit off bruh, you killing my stealth already!”

All of a sudden there were loud “Oh’s” from the audience ringside as they were now surprisingly treated by a unique split-screen experience. Jair was on the left as on the other side was none other than Dakota slowly walking a circle around his prey, that being Jair’s friend, Boogie who was battered heavily. His face a bloody mess, Tied up with chains wrapped him in the chair he was in. Duct tape over his mouth as Dakota put up his index finger to his lips as he stared into that man’s soul.

SMITH: “Do you hear him? That’s your hero… Your friend… So close yet ever so far away. I bet your mind wanders with thoughts of salvation…”

Boogie mumbles as he can hardly even be heard. Dakota chuckles with a sick grin as his held his fist up, bloodied with partials of blood dried up. It seemed to be a pleasing aroma for Dakota as he closed the distance up on Boogie. Using his other hand to grab him around the throat, he takes his blood-covered fist and begins landing impactful blows, one by one into the face. Hopkins on the other side was continually making his way down the dim-lit hall as it was becoming more structure-wise of the arena. A loud bang was heard in the distance as on the other side of the screen, you saw Dakota drop Boogie who was tied up in those chains. The chair falling back and his head, inches from meeting the concrete floor. The noise though seemed to be enough for Hopkins to hasten his pursuit as he tried to locate the noise of where it came from. Dakota wailed and wailed on the ‘defenseless’ Boogie. He leaned down and as he drew his tongue out, he began licking over the fresh wounds on his face as Boogie squirmed, steadily trying to make noise but wasn’t much coming out. Dakota took a moment to laugh.

SMITH: “No hero will save you! Fuck! You’re so pathetic, its almost bringing a tear to my eye… You waste of fucking breath… Honestly my friend, your mother should of swallowed… Or maybe Jair should’ve just been better…”

Boogie’s eyes were almost shut close due to the damage taken, Dakota smeared blood over his face as he pressed his hand down on Boogie’s face, trying to suffocate him. Boogie’s feet wiggled uncontrollably as it seemed the blood had to be rushing to the brain with the way he was positioned at the moment. Meanwhile Jair had come along some doors that led to different areas, putting his head close to the door to hear, he was hearing nothing. Wailing the bat once again, ready to strike as he headed straight, the set of doors at the end, double doors that read “Do Not Enter: Boiling Room”. Walking up to it and putting his head and ears to the door, all really one could hear was the noise of the machines.

SMITH: “Are you fucking scared yet?!?”

As Dakota reached back with his right hand, looking to aim and drive one final shot to Boogie, he let off a scream, as loud as he can. Dakota had mounted Boogie, making sure he had no room to breathe as he delivered punch after punch. The double doors opened up as the split-screen now went to just one. Jair dived in, crashing down upon the back of Dakota’s head with that bat. Hit after hit after hit, he got Dakota in the back as he rolled around, trying to avoid any more shots. Hopkins dropped the bat and immediately went ape shit with kicks to Dakota, mixing in both kicks and stomps, letting all his anger out onto the lunatic. Dakota continued to roll, looking to get out of dodge but Hopkins wasn’t allowing him to go anywhere.

HOPKINS: “Don’t run now, bitch! You got nowhere to go!”

Dakota began pushing over tanks and shelves to gather some space from Hopkins. Holding his head after those quick, powering strikes with the bat up against the back of the head. Hopkins picked up one of the fallen steel pipes as he swirled it like a ninja. Chasing behind Dakota, Hopkins swung it sideways, connecting right with the ribs of Dakota, who went down to the floor with ease. Hopkins came down with that pipe, bending it severely against the spine of his back. Dakota’s arms were stretched out, face down on the concrete floor as he laid motionless. Hopkins dropped the pipe as he took a moment to stare before heading over to his friend to get him out.

HOPKINS: “I’m right here man, I’m right here!”

Boogie couldn’t respond, barely could see out of his eyes as he was a mess. Hopkins slowly took off the duct tape as he then proceeded to quickly get him upright in the chair as the chains had him strapped tight. Hopkins loosens up the raveled links of chains. Boogie was fragile and weak at this point as Hopkins worked to get him out of the chair and up onto his feet. At that point, he took Boogie’s arm and threw it around his neck as he worked to get to the exit. A great struggle it was as Boogie’s motions was much, much slower but with progression, the two made it. The cameras however got a shot of Dakota as he was still face-planted into the concrete floor, out cold. The cameras then went to a fade.

Back to the office once again, we find Perry Wallace pacing the room with a drink in hand and bloodshot eyes. Sitting at the desk, the man from earlier has a single paper in front of him and a pleased look on his face. Across the room, Kaysie Sherell sits on the sofa, looking down at her phone.

WALLACE: “Well, well, well… ain’t that some shit right there?!”

Taking a drink from his glass, Perry looks to the man behind the desk.

WALLACE: “So everything there is legit?”

The man nods towards Perry, bringing a huge smile across his face.

WALLACE: “Fantastic! I have just the match for him then! Contractual obligations are a bitch, am I right?”

Looking up, Kaysie smirks as she nods in agreement before placing her phone in her lap. Walking towards the sofa, Perry then takes a seat before guzzling the liquid in his glass and placing his arm around her.

WALLACE: “Maybe after this lesson learned he’ll humble himself and accept the generous contract that I offered him before. Mother fucker could be rich as fuck!”

MAIN EVENT
XTV CHAMPIONSHIP
NO HOLDS BARRED
TRIPLE THREAT

LORD RAAB VS. RANDALL KASH VS. JASON P. DAVIDSON ©

POWERS: “The following No Holds Barred contest is scheduled for one fall, and will be for the 4CW XTV Championship!”

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

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

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

POWERS: “Coming to the ring next!”

As the opening guitar shred of Disturbed’s “The Vengeful One” start to play, Majella O’Ryan walks out in a leather trench coat, her steampunk sunglasses on her head. 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, but in his right hand he holds a sledgehammer.

POWERS: “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!!!”

He walks to the ring with a confident swagger, still with his arms outstretched, avoiding interaction with the fans as the reach for the sledgehammer in hand. Once reaching the ring apron, he stands with his back to the ring, and removes the robe and mask, handing it to O’Ryan. As he turns to face the ring, he instructs the referee to have his opponent step back so he can step into the ring.

POWERS: “And the champion!”

The lights in the arena go completely black as the sound of the opening guitar riffs of “Hail To The King” by Avenged Sevenfold begin to play. A single spotlight shines on the stage.

POWERS: “From Miami, Florida weighing in tonight at two hundred and forty-two pounds.. standing at six foot three inches tall…”

Smoke fills the stage as a medieval throne rises to the center of the stage. Seated on the throne is Jason P. Davidson in a fur cape and crown upon his head. The XTV Championship overlaying his Tag Team Championship, proudly displayed on his lap and shining in the spotlight. A loud chorus of boo’s is heard before the lights in the arena go completely black again.

“Watch your tongue or have it cut from your head

Save your life by keeping whispers unsaid

Children roam the streets, now orphans of war

Bodies hanging in the streets to adore”

The lights in the arena come back on and flames explode from either side of the stage as Jason rises from the throne with a mighty roar. He tosses off the cape and locks his eyes down towards the ring as he makes his way down the ramp with the Championships slung over his right shoulder and a metal baseball bat with a toaster welded to the top in hand.

“Royal flames will carve a path in chaos,

Bringing daylight to the night

Death is riding into town with armor,

They’ve come to take all your rights”

POWERS: “He is the Conqueror… Wrestling’s one true Royalty… the King of Everything… And one half of the 4CW Tag Team Champions and the 4CW XTV Champion! Here is JASON P. DDAAVVIIDDSSOONN!!!”

Jason makes his way up the steel ring steps and along the ring apron. He climbs the turnbuckle and raises the Championships high into the air as flashbulbs go off all over the arena.

“Hail to the king, hail to the one

Kneel to the crown, stand in the sun

Hail to the king

Hail!

Hail!

Hail!

The King…”

Jason hops down into the ring before walking to the center pushing the official out of the way as he places the Championships back over his right shoulder. He raises his arms into the air, holding the baseball bat and toaster combination high above his head, letting out another mighty roar as the referee comes over and removes the crown from the top of his head.

JOHNSON: “There he is, the XTV Champ moments before his first defense.”

VASSA: “Despite being aligned with the king and queen, he wasn’t thrown any bones in this defense.”

JOHNSON: “I can’t take my eyes off that contraption he has in his hand. Is that a baseball bat with a toaster welded to the top?”

VASSA: “It is, but I think Randall has something to match with that sledgehammer he brought with him.”

JOHNSON: “Good for those two to come into this thing prepared, too bad we can’t say the same thing for Raab.”

VASSA: “What are you talking about? There are plenty of things around this ring to use as a weapon.”

JOHNSON: “You are ri–“

VASSA: “But he ain’t waiting to get his hands on any weapons!”

As JPD looks to Randall across the ring, Raab races in behind him and hits JPD in the back of the head with a forearm shot. Stumbling forward, the championships fall off JPD’s shoulder as he then falls into a shot to the stomach from Randall with the sledgehammer. Dropping the baseball bat to the floor, JPD lunges over breathless Raising the sledgehammer above his head with both hands, Randall goes to swing downward on JPD only to get blindsided by Raab as he tackles him into the corner. As Randall crashes into the corner, the sledgehammer falls from his hands and drops to the outside floor below. Raab then unloads with vicious rights and lefts to Randall’s mid-section as the official finally calls for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Grabbing onto the middle ropes, Raab then uses them for leverage as he begins driving his shoulder into Randall’s stomach over and over. After knocking the air from Randall’s lungs, Raab then turns him around and locks onto his head with both hands, slamming him face-first onto the turnbuckle. Pulling Randall’s head back once more, Raab goes to slam it forward but gets stopped as JPD cracks him over the back of the head with the Tag Team Championship. Tossing the belt aside, JPD then grabs ahold of Raab and lifts him up and over the top rope, dropping him down to the apron.

Turning his attention to Kash, JPD drags him away from the corner and towards the center of the ring, where the XTV Championship lays across the canvas. Wrapping up Kash, JPD lifts him into the air and drops him onto the championship with a side suplex. Rolling over and mounting himself on top of Kash, JPD unloads with striking elbows to Kash’s head. Standing to his feet, JPD then pulls Randall up before locking onto his wrist and whipping him to the corner. As Kash crashes into the corner, JPD takes off towards him and as he closes in with the clothesline, Kash lifts his leg into the air and drives his boot into JPD’s face.

Stumbling backwards, JPD comes to a stop and quickly shakes it off. He then charges forward once more only to catch another boot to the face. Erupting from the corner, Kash charges towards JPD and hits him with a clothesline, flipping his body a full rotation before crashing to the mat. Looking across the ring, Randall locks his eyes on the baseball bat with the toaster attached and quickly shuffles towards it. Pickling it up from the mat, he then makes his way back to JPD and stands over his back. Squatting down, Randall holds the bat with both hands, pressing it against JPD’s face and pulling back on it as hard as he can.

VASSA: “I bet having that bat used against him was the last thing to cross JPD’s mind.”

JOHNSON: “He welded that toaster to the top himself, talk about craftsmanship!”

As Kash pulls back on the bat across JPD’s face, Raab pops back into the picture. Reaching around Kash’s head, Raab digs his fingers into Kash’s eyes, pulling him away from JPD. With his hands still locked on the bat, Randall pulls the bat back even further. While Randall tries to pull himself forward, Raab finally releases his head and Randall flies over JPD’s body and crashes head first through the ropes and into the ringpost. Pulling JPD up from the mat, Raab drags him to the ropes and then pulls his head over the top. Reaching underneath the top rope, Raab grabs onto JPD’s head and begins pulling it down, pressing his throat against the top rope and choking him with it.

Growing red in the face, JPD fights for air as Raab continues choking him with the top rope. Not far away, Randall begins pushing himself out of the ropes, revealing an open wound on his forehead oozing blood. Releasing his hold, Raab pulls JPD away from the ropes and then throws him to the center of the ring. Turning his attention to Kash, Raab grabs ahold of him, standing him up and then slamming him chest first into the corner. With Randall’s back exposed, Raab unloads with punches to his back and kidneys. Lifting him into the air, Raab goes to throw him over the top rope.

JOHNSON: “JPD is back on his feet!”

VASSA: “Watch out guys!”

With Kash’s body across the top rope, Raab continues fighting to roll the big man over until JPD rushes in and hits him in the back of the head with a clothesline. Kash then falls from Raab’s hands to the outside as Raab flips over the top and falls directly on top of him.

VASSA: “JPD just sent both men to the outside.”

JOHNSON: “Technically Raab already had Randall mostly there.”

Looking over the top rope to the outside, JPD takes a moment to catch his breath before ducking down and dipping through the ropes. Standing on the apron, he backs up to the other side, far away from Raab and Randall. As Raab begins to pull himself up with the apron, JPD takes off running down the apron. Leaping forward, JPD flies through the air and connects with a flying forearm smash to Raab’s face, sending him rolling backwards and crashing into the barricade. With Randall underneath, the big man breaks JPD’s fall as gravity takes hold.

JOHNSON: “The man refers to himself as superman and put on a display right there to show us why.”

VASSA: “I don’t want to sound like a badass or anything, but even I can leap from the apron like that.”

JOHNSON: “I think you give yourself too much credit. Gravity would have pulled you down the moment you stepped off the apron.”

Pushing himself up, JPD then turns to the side of the ring, lifting up the cover and digging underneath. After a few short moments, he then pulls out a double headed chainsaw as the crowd erupts at ringside.

VASSA: “Holy shit, how did that get under there?!”

JOHNSON: “That looks like the same device used to cut a hole in the shower room wall earlier.”

Pulling on the cord, JPD attempts to crank the chainsaw but it doesn’t fire up. Meanwhile, Kash slowly begins climbing to his feet as JPD attempts to crank the chainsaw over and over. As Kash stands, JPD finally cranks the chainsaw as the engine roars loudly.

VASSA: “Hold shit JPD thinks he’s Leatherface!”

Looking up to Randall, JPD then charges towards him with the saw held high above his head with both hands. Swinging down with the saw, JPD goes for Randall head but comes up short and slams the blades against the ringpost as Randall rolls out of the way. The chainsaw bounces off the ringpost and goes to the right, pulling JPD along with it as it violently jerks him.

JOHNSON: “Watch out front row!”

As JPD falls uncontrollably towards the fans with the blades aimed directly at them, Randall sticks his leg out and trips him. Falling face-first, JPD smacks the floor as the chainsaw breaks away from his hand and slides across the floor before idling momentarily and shutting off. On his feet, Randall lifts JPD up from the floor and locks onto his wrist. Pulling him in, Randall levels him with a short-arm clothesline. Still latches onto JPD’s wrist, Randall pulls him up again and this time wraps him up with both arms. Lifting JPD into the air, Randall then belly to belly suplexes him on top of the barricade.

VASSA: “Let’s just hope that JPD isn’t anything like Batman because that damn near could have broken his back!”

Rolling to the other side, JPD falls at the feet of the fans in the front row. Both Raab and Kash begin pulling themselves up with the barricade as the entire arena roars in excitement. Reaching over the barricade, Raab snatches someone’s phone from their hand and then launches it towards Randall, smacking it upside his head. Looking to the nearby camera man, Raab grabs the camera on his shoulder and pulls it away from him before kicking his foot up and knocking the cameraman to the floor.

Turning to Randall, Raab charges towards him with the camera in his hands, lunging forward and slamming it into Randall’s shoulder as he holds onto the barricade. With Randall on one knee, Raab raises the camera high above his head.

JOHNSON: “You fans at home are about to get a close-up view of the action!”

Popping up, Randall wraps Raab up around the waist and begins driving him backwards, slamming him back first into the corner of the ring. The back of Raab’s head slams against the ringpost as the camera flies from his hands, shattering as it crashes to the floor. Randall then grabs onto Raab’s head with both hands and begins slamming it into the ringpost over and over. In desperation, Raab kicks his foot up right between Randall’s legs. Releasing his hold, Randall quickly lunges over as his face grows bright red. Grabbing onto Randall, Raab then turns him around then throws him head first into the barricade. As he does, JPD leaps from the top of the barricade and flies through the air. Placing his foot onto Raab’s face, JPD extends his leg, driving Raab backwards and crushing his head into the ringpost.

VASSA: “Holy-Fucking-Shit!”

JOHNSON: “JPD with the reverse Bow to the King!”

Falling backwards, JPD slams his back against the floor. Still on his feet with his head glued to the ringpost, Raab slowly begins to drop down to a seated position as his head drags along the corner of the ring. Rolling over to his stomach, JPD then crawls towards Raab and lays him on his back before making the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: “Goddamn JPD wins it with the reverse curb stomp in mid-air.”

JOHNSON: “This thing quickly turned into a brawl on the outside and left nothing but a path of destruction in its tracks.”

“Hail to the King” hits the speakers as JPD slowly rises to his feet and rolls underneath the bottom rope into the ring. Standing tall, he limps towards the center of the ring as the official joins him by his side, raising his arm in victory.

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

POWERS: “Here is your winner and still 4CW XTV Champion… JASON PARKER DDAAVVIIDDSSOONN!!!”

Lowering his arm, JPD looks to the mat and lifts up one championship before waking his way to the other side of the ring and picking up the other from the apron. Climbing the corner, JPD looks over the crowd, slammed with a wave of boos as a smile comes to his face before lifting both championships high above his head.

JOHNSON: “There you have it folks, our main event has finally come to an end after one heck of a ride.”

VASSA: “I wonder what he’s going to do with that two headed chainsaw. I’d love to take that thing home!”

On the outside, Randall leans against the barricade, holding his head as the blood covers his face from being cut open earlier. Looking down at Raab in disgust, he shakes his head momentarily before locking his sights on JPD in the ring, standing tall in the corner.

VASSA: “Randall wasn’t the one who got pinned tonight and seeing Raab being the one, I don’t think that sits well with him.”

JOHNSON: “I’d love to see JPD and Randall one on one in this environment.”

VASSA: “Maybe we will. Randall already scored a win over Raab. The only thing left for him to do now is get a chance at the XTV Champ one on one.”

Standing to his feet, Randall turns his back to the ring before making his way up the ramp, ignoring the fans as O’Ryan joins him by his side.

JOHNSON: “That’s all the time we have for tonight folks. In two weeks we have Bad Company Two where the Tag Team Championships will be on the line in a one night tournament.”

VASSA: “JPD already had the fight of his life tonight and now he has to compete in a one night tournament next? I feel for the dude.”

JOHNSON: “Be sure to rune in two weeks folks as we head to the Scottrade Center in St. Louis, Missouri.”

VASSA: “They’re calling this thing the Gateway to the Gold and we have eight stacked teams competing in this thing!”

JOHNSON: “From 4CW and the booth, I’m Steve Johnson…”

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

And with that, the scene slowly fades to black as “Hail to the King” continues to play in the background before the Showtime logo displays across the screen.