Getting the upper hand in the match early, Adrian takes out both Mariano and Sanchez one by one. With both men down, he uses the opportunity to focus on one at a time. After dropping Mariano with a swinging neckbreaker, Adrian takes things to the corner where he ascends to the top and hits Mariano with a moonsault. Things quickly take a turn as Sanchez catches him with a blindsided punch as Adrian stands to his feet. After hitting Adrian with multiple European uppercuts, Sanchez ignites the crowd as he whips Adrian to the ropes and hits him with a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker upon his return. Ignoring Mariano, Sanchez focuses solely on Adrian, beating him senseless in the center of the ring before laying him out with a German suplex. Making his move late in the match after playing possum, Mariano strikes at the opportune time, hitting Sanchez in the back of the head with a flying forearm, sending him towards the ropes and then up and over to the outside. Finally in the ring with just one person, Mariano finishes Adrian off with the Trollface, Asian mist and shining wizard combo as the crowd reacts by chanting “problem” at the sight of the impactful move. With Sanchez still on the outside, Mariano covers Adrian as the official seals the deal with the One, Two, and Three!

To the sound of “Bulls On Parade” by Rage Against the Machine, our scene opens to an overhead shot of the Wells Fargo Arena in Des Moines, Iowa. Stretching as far as the eye can see, the arena is packed as the fans await the start of Adrenaline. Down below, the camera zooms in to various signs held by fans in attendance.

Sitting behind the booth at ringside, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa talk amongst themselves. As the camera changes angles to a shot directly in front of the booth, Steve turns his attention towards the camera, placing his hands on the booth and interlocking his fingers. Taking one last drink from the brown colored liquid in his glass, Vinny adjusts his hair, leaving the floor for Steve to begin.
JOHNSON: “Ladies and gentlemen! Good evening and welcome to another night of 4CW Adrenaline! I’m your host, Steve Johnson…”
VASSA: “I’m Vinny Vassa, and boy do we have big night ahead of us!”
JOHNSON: “We come to you live tonight from the Wells Fargo Arena in Des Moines, Iowa. Before we head into the action planned or this evening, let’s take a moment to go over the big tag team event two weeks ago, Bad Company Two.”
VASSA: “Bad Company Two was one hell of an event. We watched as eight teams entered and only one walked away with the 4CW Tag Team Championships and one hundred thousand dollars!”
JOHNSON: “For those of you who haven’t seen the action yourselves, I highly recommend lowering the volume as we may spoil it for you.”
VASSA: “Fuck that noise! Ascended Supremacy came in St. Louis as the champs and they left as the champs!”
JOHNSON: “If you didn’t already know that, then you just need to turn your television set off right now.”
VASSA: “It was a night of ups and downs, but in the end, it took a certain betrayal to seal the deal for the reigning 4CW Tag Team Champions.”
JOHNSON: “Let’s take a look here, shall we?”

VASSA: “In the main event, round three, the team of Troubled Moon imploded as Jason Cashe turned on Bryan Williams and left him in the ring for Ascended Supremacy to finish off. I hated that name by the way.”
JOHNSON: “Bryan Williams should have seen it coming. The locker room warned him. His friends warned him. Everyone warned him.”
VASSA: “That turned out just as Perry had hoped it would when he decided to pair the two together in the first place.”
JOHNSON: “Now that these two aren’t a team anymore, I’d expect to see some backlash following Bad Company Two’s ending.”
VASSA: “You and me both. More importantly, Ascended Supremacy came in and conquered, just as they said they would.”
JOHNSON: “After three hard fought matches, Jason and Tara Davidson left the Scottrade Center with the championships just as they walked into it, with them around their waists.”
VASSA: “This is a huge accomplishment for them and a big win for the ‘New Era’ in 4CW.”
JOHNSON: “Let’s not forget about the Pride Championship match we had right before the main event.”
VASSA: “How could I?! Chris Madison is STILL the 4CW Pride Champion after defeating Brian Hollywood.”
JOHNSON: “He may not be under contract anymore, but he is however obligated to defend the Pride Championship or forfeit with a loss on his almost pristine record.”
VASSA: “You heard the man. He said for Perry to give him his best challenge at Fright Night. Now it’s up to Perry to deliver.”
JOHNSON: “We have just over a month until Fright Night. We’ll see what Perry can come up with for Chris Madison and his juggernaut reign.”
VASSA: “Enough with what happened at Bad Company Two, let’s get on to tonight!”
JOHNSON: “You read my mind, Vinny. Folks, we’re going to cut backstage momentarily but when we return, we will kick the evening off with Elijah Carlson taking on Jason Cashe in our opening match.”

The camera cuts to backstage, where Bryan Williams is entering the arena and walking down the aisle on his way to the locker room.
JOHNSON: “Bryan Williams here, looking to bounce back from Bad Company Two.”
VASSA: “And what a chance he’s got – none other than the 4CW Champion himself!”
Williams reaches the locker room, and is about to open the door…
JOHNSON: “Wait, what is that?”
VASSA: “What’s what-?”
JOHNSON: “Shh! You hear that?”
Something, indeed, is amiss – there seems to be music playing inside.
“I heard you on the wireless back in fifty two
Lying awake intent at tuning in on you
If I was young it didn’t stop you coming through

Williams looks dumbfounded, but nevertheless opens the locker room door. Once he steps inside, he sees it’s covered in bright pink, with various posters reading “FLASH FM – WE TELL YOU WHAT IS GOOD AND PLAY IT ‘TIL YOU LIKE IT!”

Looking around, Williams notices a ‘80s boombox in a sitting table, where the music is coming from. Once he approaches the boombox and turns it off, he notices attached to it is a note.
“To “The Leviathan” Bryan Williams:
Following up on our Twitter exchange last weekend, I thought I’d show my appreciation for your fine taste in radio. Check the cassette player.”

As its only signature, the note has a Trollface, reading “PROBLEM?”
JOHNSON: “Looks like Bryan Williams has been pranked by DA #TROLL GUY.”
VASSA: “And it looks like DA #TROLL GUY, or what’s his name, is an idiot.”
Williams opens the boom box’s cassette player, and takes out a pink cassette tape, reading “FLASH FM”. He chuckles as he leaves it on the table and walks away.


POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
”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 first, from New York, New York! He weighs in at two hundred ten pounds and stands 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 child’s 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, his eyes never once leave it, before moving to his own corner as the referee directed him.
VASSA: “There he is, your Uprising Primetime Champion!”
JOHNSON: “Former Uprising Primetime Champion. That belt is now defunct.”
VASSA: “Who gives a fuck?! That entire shit show is nothing more than a glorified donkey show now!”
JOHNSON: “It has seen better days, like when 4CW was the only reason anyone gave the slightest interest.”
VASSA: “I miss that place. All great shows like Adrenaline need a ‘B Show’, but Uprising was more along the lines of an ‘F’, and that stands for failure!”
JOHNSON: “Regardless of what show Eli has wrestled on since signing with 4CW, in singles competition, the kid has been unstoppable.”
VASSA: “He really has. Bad Company Two handed him his first taste of defeat in 4CW so look for the kid to bounce back here tonight!”
The arena goes into a brief silence before Jason Cashe comes out from the back.
POWERS: “And the opponent!”
Almost sliding out with a smile on his face and a dip in his step as he hears the place give him both jeers and cheers. Depending on the opponent more one than the other but he takes it all in, deeply inhaling the air with his head tilted back and his eyes closed at the edge of where the stage meets the entrance ramp.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Houston, Texas, weighing in at two hundred thirty pounds and standing six feet tall! He is the former three time 4CW Champion, ‘The Troubled One”, JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”
Taking two quick puffs from an “Air Joint”, Cashe throws his arms up above his head briefly, slaps the camera zoomed in on his face and then takes his first real steps towards the ring. Giving a few fans fist bumps, those who have their hands out wanting some love he makes his way down to ringside. He rounds the corner of the ring and jogs the steel stairs, getting up on the ring apron.
Dipping through the middle ropes, he enters the ring. Walking to the opposite side, he balances on the middle rope, leaning against the top rope and once again hits the “Air Joint” before getting hyped up over the upcoming match.

Dropping down, he puts his back into a nearby corner and awaits the bell.
JOHNSON: “Another Adrenaline and another opening match for Jason Cashe, a three time 4CW Champion and two time XTV Champion.”
VASSA: “You heard the man! He said that belt is coming home with him tonight so maybe he’ll add a defunct Primetime Championship to the list?”
JOHNSON: “That belt carries no more weight. All prestige with that belt and company died the moment 4CW pulled its funding.”
VASSA: “Pulled its funding? I thought it was a mutual agreement?”
JOHNSON: “Nothing! I’ve said too much.”
VASSA: “Ahhh, I get it now. So that’s why RuPaul Knight has to take his show to Mexico! He can’t afford to even put on a shit show in Canada! HAHA!!!”
JOHNSON: “Why are we talking about this nonsense? We have the making for one hell of a match right in front of us!”
VASSA: “It’s the opening match baby! These things are always big when the ‘Troubled One’ is involved!”
Holding the Primetime Championship high above his head, Eli begins taunting Cashe with it from his corner. Laughing it off, Cashe leans back against the corner as the official checks in with both corners. Getting the nod from Cashe, the official then looks across the ring to Eli as he places the Primetime Championship along the apron. Turning around to face the official, Eli gives him a slow nod. With both men ready, the official then throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

VASSA: “Let’s get it on!”
JOHNSON: “It’s been a long two weeks waiting for this match.”
VASSA: “Eli talked a big game. He even went as far as to file a fake police report against Cashe for molestation.”
JOHNSON: “That was a little over the line but do you expect anything less from the people involved in this match?”
Making their way towards the center of the ring, Cashe and Eli keep their eyes locked on one another. As they slowly begin to circle each other, Cashe lunges forward and quickly grabs ahold of Eli. Grabbing onto Cashe, the two then lock up in a test of strength. Driving Eli backwards, Cashe forces him against the ropes and then pops his knee up, driving it into Eli’s stomach.
VASSA: “Let’s not forget that Eli is still nursing that rib injury.”
Pulling Eli’s head down to waist level, Cashe applies a side headlock. Before he can begin to crank down on the pressure, Eli plants his hand onto Cashe’s lower back and pushes him forward, breaking the side headlock and sending him to the far ropes. As Cashe comes back on the rebound, Eli takes off and meets him in the ring with a spinning elbow to the chops, knocking Cashe flat on his back.
JOHNSON: “Still injured or not, Eli still possesses quite a bit of speed.”
Quickly pushing himself back to his feet, Cashe takes a swing for Eli’s head but comes up short as Eli ducks underneath and counters with a stiff elbow to the stomach. Stepping in beside Cashe, Eli pulls him straight up and then falls backwards, dropping him in the center of the ring with a Russian leg sweep. Crawling over Cashe, Eli mounts himself and then unloads with a ground and pound, beating away at Cashe’s head with vicious lefts and rights.
VASSA: “There you go Eli! Beat him at his own game!”
Holding both arms up and locking his hands together above his head, Eli begins to swing downward but unexpectedly catches a chop to the throat as Cashe takes him by surprise. Gasping for air, Eli quickly lowers his hands but before he knows it, Cashe reaches up and locks onto his head with both hands. Pulling Eli’s head down, Cashe pops his head up but before the two butt heads, Eli pulls his back inches away from having his skull rocked. Locking hands, Eli then slams them both down into Cashe’s face, knocking his head down against the canvas.
JOHNSON: “You weren’t getting away from that a second time!”
VASSA: “Damn Eli just rocked Cashe’s cranium.”
Standing to his feet, Eli then reaches back down and grabs ahold of Cashe’s arm. Pulling Cashe up, Eli then locks onto his wrist and whips him to the ropes. As Cashe comes back on the rebound, Eli side steps him and takes him down face first to the canvas with a drop toe hold. Holding both hands over his face, Cashe quickly rolls over to his back as Eli slowly stands to his feet. Turning to the ropes behind him, Eli takes off and as he comes back on the rebound, Cashe pushes himself to an upright seated position. Closing in, Eli nearly takes Cashe’s head off with a Shining Wizard!
JOHNSON: “Anointed!”
VASSA: “More like beheaded!”
With Cashe laid out on his back, Eli drops down to both knees and quickly makes the cover as the official slides in with the count.

JOHNSON: “Cashe with the kick out!”
VASSA: “I’m just as shocked as Eli is.”
Popping his head up and looking to the official, Eli begins yelling in his direction before slamming his hand onto the mat three times at a quick speed. Pushing himself up, Eli shakes his head in disgust before taking a few steps back and then stepping forward, drawing his leg back and punting Cashe in the ribs.
JOHNSON: “He’s furious with the officials count.”
VASSA: “It’s bad enough that Eli has broken ribs, now he’s trying to break Cashe’s.”
Pulling Cashe up from the mat, Eli positions himself behind him and then lifts him off his feet, dropping him back to the canvas with a belly to back suplex. Back on his feet, Eli steps away from Cashe and watches as he slowly pushes himself back up. With his back turned, Eli rushes in behind Cashe and drops down, leaping forward, hitting Cashe behind the knee and taking him down with a chop block. Holding his knee with both hands wrapped around it, Cashe rolls over to his side as Eli crawls beside him. Noticing Eli behind him, Cashe quickly rolls over and backhands Eli in the face with all of his strength.
VASSA: “Watch out now! Cashe just smacked a bitch!”
JOHNSON: “That was more than just a smack!”
Pushing himself up instantly, Cashe begins kicking and stomping on Eli before he even has a chance to react. Locking onto Eli’s head with both hands, Cashe leans down and bites him across the forhead before drawing his head back and slamming it forward, hitting Eli right between the eyes with a headbutt. Pulling Eli to his feet, Cashe then whips him to the ropes. As Eli comes back on the rebound, Cashe charges towards him and puts him on his back in the center of the ring with a left handed clothesline.
Back to his feet, Eli pushes Cashe in the chest with both hands before turning to the ropes behind him. Cashe then turns to the ropes behind him and as they both meet in the center of the ring, Cashe drops him with another left handed clothesline. Laughing at the sight of Eli frustrated on his back, Cashe gives him space to get back to his feet, his laughter growing louder and louder so Eli can hear it. Eli then turns to the ropes again and so does Cashe. As the two come back on the rebound and meet in the center of the ring, Cashe leaps into the air and wipes Eli out with an aggressive crossbody.

JOHNSON: “It’s like he’s toying with him at this point.”
VASSA: “Cashe knows what to do to get into anyone’s head and he’s doing that right this very second.”
Crawling over Eli, Cashe begins slamming violent elbows into Eli’s head over and over, without a care in the world. After knocking Eli senseless, Cashe stands to his feet and steps forward over Eli’s body. Before Cashe can get too far away, Eli quickly pops up and grabs the back of Cashe’s pants, pulling him backwards and down to the mat. With Cashe’s shoulders pinned to the mat, Eli drops all of his weight onto Cashe’s legs curled up against his chest as the official quickly rushes over with the count.

Kicking his legs straight, Cashe sends Eli flying backwards through the air and crashing into the corner. Bouncing off, Eli stumbles forward as Cashe quickly pushes himself back to his feet. Taking a swing for Cashe’s head, Eli misses as Cashe ducks underneath and steps in behind him. Reaching back and grabbing Eli’s head, Cashe then drops him to the canvas with a back to back cutter!
VASSA: “Holy shit!”
JOHNSON: “Under The Influence!”
VASSA: “Eli goes down with the UTI!”
The crowd erupts as both their bodies slam against the mat. Rolling over to his stomach, Cashe then crawls over top and Eli, hooking his leg and going for the pin as the official slides in for the count.

VASSA: “Cashe wins it!”
JOHNSON: “After escaping a near pin fall, Cashe changes the entire flow of the match with the UTI!”
Slowly rising to his feet, Cashe looks down at Eli’s motionless body before slapping himself across the chest and looking straight up, roaring as loud as he can. Stepping in beside Cashe, the official then raises his arm into the air.

POWERS: “Here is your winner… JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”
Snatching his arm away from the official, Cashe marches from one side of the ring to the other before coming to an abrupt stop. Looking over his shoulder, Cashe spots the Primetime Championship sitting along the apron in the corner. With a smile on his face, Cashe then looks to the crowd as his tongue sticks through the gap where his two front teeth should be. Tiptoeing across the ring, Cashe then drops to his back on the edge and rolls underneath the bottom rope to the outside. Grabbing the Primetime Championship, Cashe then looks down at it as laughter overcomes him. Tossing the championship over his shoulder, Cashe then makes his way up the ramp, leaving Eli on his back in the center of the ring.
VASSA: “HAH!!! Cashe has that trash Primetime Championship!”
JOHNSON: “He’s taken it into his possession and is leaving with it.”
VASSA: “Eli isn’t going to like this one bit.”
JOHNSON: “There really isn’t anything he can do about it right now.”
VASSA: “After swearing off championship gold, there goes Cashe with another one to his name!”

The scene opens to a wrestling ring, unbranded and desolate. Black ropes surround a pristine white canvas but no ramp stems from the area around the squared circle and nor do any stands become visible as the camera pans out and does a full revolution before focusing its lens back on the ring. This is not but a warehouse, and an empty one at that.
VOICE:“Savagery has plagued mankind since the dawn of time. From the earliest presence of homo-sapiens and even before this, the instinct imprinted even in those primates we are believed to be descended from. It’s a birthright of sorts, but one which we have been brainwashed into suppressing, ignoring and disowning. It’s what separates us from the animals; that ability to know what it is you want to do, and decide it’s not actually an acceptable thing to do…”
The ropes recoil, as if some invisible entity was whipped into them and then, as if in homage to that old ‘if a tree falls in the woods’ question; a crash is heard and the suspension on the canvas buckles a little as though somebody has been slammed into the mat.
SYMPATHETIC INTERNAL WHISPER: “Don’t fuck her bro’… You’re married.”
A bloodied hand-print appears on the canvas, although there is no physical manifestation of anybody for said smeared, crimson stain to belong to.
SYMPATHETIC INTERNAL WHISPER: “Every child deserves a medal.”
Another red hand-print; this one smearing across the white mat as though being dragged by the invisible ankle by some other entity, invisible to the naked eye.
SYMPATHETIC INTERNAL WHISPER: “Don’t kick women in the face.”
A third bloodstain, although this time not of just one hand but instead of a slender and feminine foot, then another and another; although a woman were walking the length of the space between the ropes, or three quarters of the way anyway before it stops, the final print seeming to vibrate as if it’s carrier were shaking out of fear until suddenly a much larger stain seems to rise out of the canvas, the invisible woman having been knocked back to the floor as a pool of blood seems to hint that this female ghost has suffered a brutal end.
VOICE: “Our sport is no different… We control our natural instincts with rules, with reasoning and with petty cash penalties for infractions on these so-called testaments of sorts. Rope breaks…”
The bottom rope seems to be pulled inwards, as though this beaten, bloody and figureless presence was being tortured and seeking solace in the comfort that she had made it to a safe haven of sorts. Before long though, the elasticated cable frays and snaps in two. A scream stems from the mere suggestion of human life and echoes around the empty building.
VOICE: “Open fists…”
No blood appears this time but for the spatter of capillary bleeding, as though someone were being repeatedly punched in the face after being pinned down. The scream turns into agonized moans and the sound of a dull thumping, as though someone were being struck with such force that the back of their skull was ricocheting against the canvas with each strike.
VOICE: “Agents of control intended to keep us within the boundaries of this warped idea of a fair fight in the name of entertainment, but whoever said fighting was fair? Whoever said entertainment wasn’t one combatant mercilessly slaughtering the other in the name of competition? The Romans had the coliseums where they would have men fight lions and heavily armoured champions of the arena. The crowd would cheer, their blood-lust satisfied; men, women and children alike.”
The ring is still now, no further crimson appearing on the once white mat.
VOICE: “I’ve made my living the way those champions made theirs; by traveling the world and viciously tearing apart whatever sorry man, woman or child the powers that be decide has earned a reckoning… And so that’s what I became: a walking end-times, the embodiment of an early opportunity to meet a man’s maker.”
Suddenly a lack of a crowd all-but appears; roaring applause and throwing actual red roses into the ring. Their cheers suggesting that they approve of the acts they have just witnessed. The flowers land atop the bloodstained canvas and create the abstract idea that mankind has always and will always have a soft-spot for the more brutal things in life.
VOICE: “I’ve been made a martyr of by hundreds, perhaps even thousands of tiny little men with great big ideas in this business. Insignificant men with ignorant opinions and closed minds who couldn’t market water to a fish on dry-land. Owners and General Managers who would sooner see me in shackles than inside of a ring of any shape, in any country. They called me a castaway, a throwback to a time where health and safety was not but the next suffragette movement. They said I’d never be a big deal in this country. They called me a defiler and told me there was no room at the inn… “
A man appears from out of the hollow nothingness. His feet planted dead center in the ring. His attire a little more dapper than the rough voice had suggested, but given the headgear he was wearing, this could only be expected. As he paced the desecrated ring, the contrast between his charcoal colored business suit and the solid iron mask which encased his entire cranium shouted at volumes which could be heard the world over.
VOICE: “Now.. They call me three times a day, they bother my pregnant wife at home, they approach me in fucking Taco Bell and want me to put my likeness on their shitty pay per-views in front of fifteen thousand people? They want me to come in and put over whoever they’ve deemed to be the next big thing? and they want to pay me stupid fucking money to do so. They want the Man in the Iron Mask, but they never wanted the man behind it. They want Dr. Jekyll without Mr. Hyde.”
The clasped hinges on the eerie wrought-iron mask are opened and David Sanchez who had performed in the pre-show stands in the center of the ring, trampling the roses into the bloodstains underfoot.
SANCHEZ: “… And so I come to where they don’t know who I am, where the stories of my past are just the delusional fabrications of some guy in metal headgear talking to a crowd that doesn’t and probably never did exist. Four Corners Wrestling… You don’t even know me, and you don’t even care, and yet you find yourself wondering who I am…”
David lays the mask at his feet and lifts a rose from the ground in its place before crushing the petals in the palm of his hand.
SANCHEZ: “…4CW, my name is Nanakia, and soon… My name won’t even matter, nor will yours. Stand and cheer, ladies and gentlemen whilst I stand and deliver the heads of your heroes. The dog days are over, welcome… to the age of savagery!”


POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
The 4CW arena goes dark, and the screens come up with different men and women all dressed in native regalia are dancing as we hear vocalizing and drums being played. About ten seconds of this goes on and then “Hall of Fame” by The Script is heard over the PA system. The song goes on for about twenty seconds and then Alexander Hayes comes from behind the curtain beating on his chest like he is King Kong and scream. Both arms fly out to full extension and he makes his way down the aisle.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring first… ALEXANDER HHAAYYEESS!!!”
Once he is inside the ring, he bounces off the ropes, and then jumps on the second turnbuckle towards the stage as he raises his arm high in the air for five seconds. He then jumps down as the music fades while he waits for his opponent.
POWERS: “And the opponent!”
“Monster” by Skillet plays over the sound system as Lord Raab comes out through the curtain with Henry Losak.
POWERS: “Introducing to the ring from Cologne, Germany, weighing in at two hundred fifty pounds and standing six feet, four inches tall! He is “4CW’s Green Disease Monster”, LORD RRAAAABB!!!”
Raab and Losak stand at the top of the entrance ramp, looking towards the ring. Raab then slowly proceeds towards the ring. He then high fives the fans before he walks up the ringside steps before entering the ring underneath the top rope. He crouches down in the corner, moving back and forth, rubbing his hands together in excitement and rolling his neck around. He remains focused with anger in his eyes as he waits for the match to begin as Henry Losak stands at ringside.
VASSA: “The Green Disease is in the house!”
JOHNSON: “I have to admit. I’m very happy that Raab is now back on Adrenaline and in full support of 4CW.”
VASSA: “I don’t know what Uprising did to him but he’s a changed man.”
JOHNSON: “After spending time on a sinking ship, it would make anyone appreciate 4CW even that much more.”
VASSA: “Can’t argue there.”
As both men stand in their corners ready to go, the official throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

Erupting from his corner, Raab charges full speed towards Hayes. Closing in on him and leaving him nowhere to flee, Raab hits him with a vicious shoulder block, slamming his back against the corner. With Hayes cornered, Raab then unloads with a series of body punches, pounding away at Hayes midsection with lefts and rights. With each hit, Raab knocks the air from Hayes lungs and when he’s finally out of breath, Raab swings upward and connects with a European uppercut that whips his head backwards and slams it against the turnbuckle.
VASSA: “Raab ain’t messing around tonight!”
JOHNSON: “He have a brawl on our hands ladies and gentlemen!”
Ripping Hayes away from the corner, Raab completely circles around and then throws him face first into the turnbuckle. Locking onto Hayes head with both hands, Raab begins slamming his face onto the turnbuckle over and over until turning him around and trapping both of his arms. With Hayes unable to defend himself, Raab begins violently headbutting Hayes repeatedly and after after about ten headbutts, Raab lifts him off his feet and throws him over his head with an arm-trap suplex.
JOHNSON: “Raab isn’t letting up one bit, is he?”
VASSA: “Not from the looks of it. At this rate, he’s going to give Alexander brain damage.”
Back on his feet, Raab roars directly into the air before turning his attention back to Hayes. Making his way over, Raab grabs ahold of him with both hands and lifts him up from the mat. Slamming him down and dropping to one knee, Raab drops Hayes across his elevated knee with a backbreaker. Not letting him go, Raab stands back up and then drops him across his knee with another. Still keeping his grip on Hayes, Raab stands up once more and then drops Hayes on his head with a scoop slam piledriver.
VASSA: “There’s another hit to the head. If this were the NFL, Raab would have been ejected and fined by now.”
JOHNSON: “Good thing it isn’t. Nothing is as bad as watching a Houston game.”
Standing tall, Raab reaches down with one hand and wraps it around Hayes’ throat. Pulling him up from the mat, Raab then lifts him inches above the canvas before slamming him down with force with a chokeslam.
VASSA: “There’s the Chokinator and this is a complete one sided demolition.”
Looking down at Hayes and shaking his head, Raab reaches down and lifts him up from the mat.
JOHNSON: “This thing is over. What’s he doing?”
VASSA: “It doesn’t look like Raab is finished yet.”
Applying a double underhook, Raab then lifts Hayes into the air, upside down. After holding him up for a few moments, Raab then drops him on his head with a double arm brainbuster.
JOHNSON: “He’s finished now! The Killerbuster!”
Making the cover, Raab hooks the leg as the official slides in with the count.

POWERS: “Here is your winner… LORD RRAAAABB!!!”
Raab stands to his feet victorious as the official steps in beside him and raises his arm into the air.

It had taken the better part of the half hour after his match just to find the damn stairways and ladders and everything else that one had to climb to get up into the rafters of the Wells Fargo Arena. How the hell was he supposed to watch over 4CW like the hero they needed if it took forever to get up there? Also, why wasn’t an area of a building like this better maintained? There were boxes and spiderwebs and all kinds of other shit that shouldn’t have been up there, and that was a hindrance to him doing his job of protecting those who were important to him. Which, in the end, was really just Genie and their animals.
He had been moving deftly across the steel catwalk, the thousands of fans in attendance not noticing that someone was just a few hundred feet above their heads, when he saw a shadowy figure squatting down at the far end of the catwalk, where it made a sharp right turn. Eli hadn’t actually expected to run into anyone up in the rafters of the arena but now that he had spotted someone he had to admit he was filled with a sense of excitement that was mingled with a bit of anxiety. After all, who the hell was crazy enough to climb all the way up to where he was? He did his best to close the distance between himself and the figure until he was close enough to where he could speak without having to shout.

CARLSON: ”Hey, buddy. What the hell do you think you’re doing all the way up here.”
The figure didn’t respond although he did twitch momentarily at the sound of someone else’s. For a brief moment Eli thought he heard him whimpering, and then noticed that the figure’s hand arm was moving rapidly up and down.
CARLSON: ”Seriously. You need to get the hell out of here. Like, yesterday. I’ve got a job to do.”
Slowly the figure stood up, his left arm still moving rapidly, before turning to reveal himself to be RuPaul Knight, the poor faggot who had taken his ball and gone to Mexico to host donkey shows. Eli lept back immediately, recognizing the face of the man he had beaten soundly in the ring a month and a half earlier. What had caused him to jump back was the fact that RuPaul’s tiny pecker, legitimately no bigger than a light switch, was grasped tightly between the man’s index finger and thumb. In his right hand he held a tube of lipstick, which he had used to color his lips crudely in order to ‘look pretty.’
KNIGHT: ”Do you think I’m pretty? Will you touch me in my special place if I tuck it back?”
Eli yelped as Knight took a step towards him and frantically dug in his pocket for the bottle of mace that he had bought for Genie a week after she had officially moved in with him. They had lived in downtown New York City, after all. Despite his assertions that it was the greatest city in the world he wasn’t about to let Genie get mugged or gang raped. Thankfully he had thought to grab it out of her bags before beginning his watch as the hero Adrenaline needed. With one quick motion Eli sprayed RuPaul in the eyes with the mace and then kicked him squarely in the balls before retreating.
CARLSON: ”Sick fuck. I’m going to call Dakota and tell him I left him a present up here.”
Without another word, Eli swirled around and darted in the opposite direction, his makeshift black cape floating in the air behind him as he ran back the way he came. His watch would continue another time.


POWERS: “The following tag team 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.
Just as “I Want Candy” by Aaron Carter starts to play throughout the arena, fans immediately start to cheer.
POWERS: “Making her way to the ring from Candyland, please welcome…’The Sweet Treat’…CAAAAAANDYYYYYY!!”
As the music continues to play, no one walks out onto the stage.
POWERS: “Please welcome… ‘The Sweet Treat’… CAAAAANDYYYYY!!!”
After a few more moments, the song comes to an end and still no sight of Candy.
VASSA: “I hope she didn’t overdose on too much sugar backstage.”
JOHNSON: “I don’t know what to think right now. Mike Powers has said her name twice now and still no sight of Candy.”
VASSA: “Let’s give it a few more moments. Maybe she had to make a bathroom stop.”
Cue the lights in the arena starting to fade and flicker out, while a spotlight appears on the stage.
“Woahh Wa-ohhh, Wa-ohhh-ohh-ohh,
Woahh Wa-ohhh, Wa-ohhh-ohh-ohh!”

POWERS: “Making their way to the ring, at a combined weight of four-hundred and fifty pounds… Adrian Tanner Jr. and Johnny Evil… A.A The Asshoooole Antagooooonists!!”
After the chanting, the opening trumpets of “Everyone Else is an Asshole” by Reel Big Fish kick in, the arena lights still flickering while the spotlight begins to strobe around the stage. Adrian Tanner Junior and Johnny Evil appear on the stage: Adrian with his ring jacket hood up obscuring his face and Johnny with a shirt that reads “Q-Ball”. Johnny looks around for a moment, before stepping over to one side of the stage and pointing outward with his finger into the audience. Johnny makes his way to the other side of the stage and does the same thing. He then paces and begins to hop around a bit and hype up the crowd.
“I tried to be nice
I tried to live my life
But everyone else is an asshole”

At “Asshole” Adrian throws his arms out and fireworks explode from the stage. Both men grin before Johnny starts his jog down the entrance ramp. Adrian following behind him, slapping hands with some fans here and there.
“I tried to forgive
I tried to live and let live
But everyone else is an asshole”

Once Johnny makes his way to the ringside area, he slides through the bottom rope and then hops to his feet. He begins a pace around the ring before ascending the ropes. Adrian slides in from the other side of the ring, climbing the opposite side of the ropes of his partner. He makes a ‘gun’ motion with his hand and ‘fires,’ then jumps down. Johnny begins talking and hyping up the audience as he lifts his arms into the air and sways them up and down. As the music music dies down and the lights return to their normal state, they both hop off the ropes and get ready for their match.
JOHNSON: “The Asshole Antagonists have made their entrance and still no sight of Candy.”
VASSA: “Maybe she decided there were better things to do than team up with Maddox? He does seem like a loser if I’m being honest.”
JOHNSON: “You take that back, Vinny! He is the best when it comes to jokes about hygiene.”
VASSA: “Are you kidding me? I think he stole half of those disses from a first grade class.”
JOHNSON: “Don’t be rude, Vinny. Don’t take his smile away.”
VASSA: “He murdered his smile when he first decided to speak! Account of kiss my ass!”
Talking amongst themselves in their corner, Tanner and Evil huddle up as Maddox looks on from the other side of the ring. Johnny’s eyes then light up as he quickly begins nodding his head in agreement to what Tanner is saying. The two then pop their heads up and quickly turn to Maddox before taking off towards him.
VASSA: “Two on one! This isn’t going to end well!”
JOHNSON: “He played himself!”
Closing in on Maddox, the two lock arms and go for a double clothesline! Rolling out of the way, Maddox avoids the attack as Adrian and Evil come up empty handed. Quickly turning around, the two look to Maddox with his back turned to them, staring out into the crowd. Confused, the two look on for a moment as Maddox remains motionless in the center of the ring. Switching angles, the camera fixates on Maddox’s face as tears slowly begin to roll from his eyes.
VASSA: “Is he fucking crying?!”
JOHNSON: “What’s the matter with him?”
VASSA: “What the hell is that?”
The camera slowly rotates and zooms in to a sign out in the crowd, one in particular that draws Maddox’s undivided attention.

JOHNSON: “Q-Ball?”
VASSA: “That grimey mother fucker!”
JOHNSON: “Look out!”
From behind, Tanner and Evil plow into Maddox with a double team shoulder block, knocking him across the ring and stomach first into the corner. Late to the party, the official then calls for the bell.

Exiting the ring, Evil steps onto the apron, leaving Tanner to kick things off. Closing in on Maddox, Tanner grabs the back of his head and pulls it away from the corner before slamming him face first in to the turnbuckle over and over as the crowd counts along.
“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Five! … Six! … Seven! … Eight! … Nine! … Ten!”

Lifting Maddox in and placing his feet onto the bottom ropes, Tanner leans Maddox against the corner. Climbing over Maddox, Tanner makes his way to the top before turning away and looking down to Evil, pointing at him with his hand simulating a pistol. Reaching down and grabbing onto Maddox, Tanner then pulls him up to where his feet are on the middle ropes. Wrapping his arms around Maddox’s waist, Tanner looks to the outside at Evil, giving him the nod. Entering the ring, Evil stands below the two as Tanner lifts Maddox upside down and jumps down from the top of the corner. Locking onto Maddox’s head, Evil joins in with Tanner as they bring Maddox down with a powerbomb-neckbreaker combination from the top, dropping Maddox directly on his head and violently snapping his head perpendicular to his neck.
VASSA: “No–I–Wha–“
JOHNSON: “Oh no…”
Maddox’s limp body falls over to its side as Tanner and Evil climb to their feet, shocked at what they had just done.
VASSA: “I think his neck just snapped!”
JOHNSON: “The Rapture has come and taken Maddox with it.”
Snapping out of it, Evil rolls Maddox’s limp body over to it’s back with his foot, leaving his front open for Tanner to hesitantly drop down before making the cover. Staring in disbelief, the official doesn’t move until Evil yells at him, grabbing his attention. Slowly dropping down to one knee, the official then makes the count.

VASSA: “That’s all she wrote from the account of kiss my ass!”
JOHNSON: “We need to get medical attention down here at ringside pronto!”
Slowly rising to his feet, Tanner look to Evil with a shrug of the shoulders as Maddox continues to lie motionless on the canvas. Stepping in between them hesitantly, the official then raises both Tanner and Evil’s hands into the air.

POWERS: “Uhh… ahem… Here are your winners, Johnny Evil and Adrian Tanner Junior… THE ASSHOLE AANNTTAAGGOONNIISSTTSS!!!”
As soon as the announcement is made, The official quickly drops down to his knees to check on Maddox as he lays to rest.
JOHNSON: “Jesus Christ! I think we just witnessed the worst possible thing that could happen in that ring.”
VASSA: “Uprising is back?”
JOHNSON: “No! We need some assistance here at ringside. We’re going to cut backstage folks.”
VASSA: “Is that? Wait a second… did he shit himself?”
VASSA: “He’s foaming out the mouth from a bad batch!”
JOHNSON: “Cut the damn camera!”

The scene opens in the backstage locker room of the reigning 4CW Tag Team champions, Ascended Supremacy. The wife and husband duo is seen together inside of the locker room, but both of their attention appears to be focused on two different things. Jason P. Davidson stands almost in the middle of the locker room preparing himself for his XTV championship defense tonight against Sativa Nevaeh. His XTV championship belt is proudly wrapped around his waist as he seems to be working on making sure he’s loosened up enough for this match. He is rubbing over both of his wrists as he tilts his head from side to side in a slow manner.
He pauses for a moment as he turns towards his wife who is sitting on the couch. Tara Davidson hasn’t even changed yet in her ring attire as she casually sits on the couch flipping through a magazine. Her legs are crossed at the knee and she is swinging one heeled foot back and forth as she flips through the pages of what appears to be a magazine devoted completely to home decoration. After flipping through a few different pages, Tara turns the magazine around and holds it up so that her husband can look to where she is pointing with her index finger.
T. DAVIDSON: “Now this is a gorgeous dresser for the master bedroom. Don’t you think?”
J. DAVIDSON: “I hope you realize they all start to look the same after awhile.”
Jason barely glances at the page of the magazine which causes Tara to begin to tap up against the page with her index finger as her bottom lip begins to fall into a pout. The camera pans slightly towards the side of where she is sitting on the couch to reveal there is a stack of magazine which leads one to wonder just how long this exchange had been going on even before they made it here tonight to the arena.
T. DAVIDSON: “You barely even looked at the page!”
J. DAVIDSON: “I’ll look through all of those magazines after tonight, I promise.”
T. DAVIDSON: “You’ve been so focused on this match that you’ve barely looked at any of the ideas I have for our house in Paris.”
J. DAVIDSON: “That’s because I know the house is still going to be there after tonight. My XTV championship belt needs to do the same.”
The look of determination is clearly etched across his face as he resumes the practice of tilting his head side to side as Tara takes the magazine she is holding in her hands and tosses it towards the side besides the other discarded magazines. It appears she has chosen to give up on trying to get her husband to pay attention to what she wants to do at the moment. However she is not going to be silent about her disappointment as she places both of her feet on the coffee table making sure to make as much noise as possible. That is more than enough to catch the attention of her husband who makes his way around the coffee table and over towards his wife who has arms crossed in front of her ample chest.
J. DAVIDSON: “I know you’re not that pissy over a fucking dresser of all things.”
T. DAVIDSON: “What if I am?”
J. DAVIDSON: “I’d just tell you to get the fuck over it.”
Tara rolls her eyes as she notices the smile that is now obvious on the face of her husband. The arrogance he has on full display is nothing short of what she is used to and with a sigh she allows for the back of her head to fall back against the cushions of the couch.
T. DAVIDSON: “I’m just sore from walking all those dogs.”
J. DAVIDSON: “A bet’s a bet. You know that.”
T. DAVIDSON: “That bet was stupid. You wouldn’t have kept it if your team had lost and we both know it.”
There is an edge of a challenge in the tone of her voice as she stares dead into the eyes of her husband. He appears to be amused as he smirks before he leans in closer to the point where his forehead is touching up against her own leaving a very limited amount of space in between the both of them causing Tara to slightly shift her weight up against the cushions of the couch.
J. DAVIDSON: “Too bad we’ll never find out now.”
T. DAVIDSON: “Shouldn’t you be focusing on getting ready for your match?”
J. DAVIDSON: “I have something better in mind.”
It would appear that Tara is thinking about the exact same thing as her husband as their lips meet in a passionate kiss while her hands reach down for the belt of his pants. She is quick to undo it as the scene quickly cuts to a close and the camera cuts out of the locker room.


POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
The lights in the arena go pitch black, as red lasers and spotlights light up the area. The video screen lights up and flashes across the screen a Texas flag, with the words, “Texas Born. Texas Bred.” “Texas Forever.“ branded into the flag. The crowd reaction is mixed, but there are more cheers than boos, as the opening guitar riffs and “Hellraiser” by Motorhead begins to play throughout the PA system.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Houston, Texas, weighing in at two hundred fifty-six pounds and standing six feet, six inches tall! He is ‘The Scorpion’… SCOTT SSTTEEVVEENNSS!!!”
The cheers intensify as the chorus hits the speakers, drawing out the man from Texas. Walking down the aisle, he fists bumps some of his fans while raising a fist at a few of the more vocal bashers.
VASSA: “Captain Planet making his way down to the ring ladies and gentlemen!”
JOHNSON: “Let’s take a brief moment to remind ourselves to recycle, reduce, and reuse.”
VASSA: “We only get one Ear–“
“Have you heard about the lonesome loser!”

The music abruptly comes to a pause as a recording plays throughout the entire arena. Stopping in his tracks, Stevens quickly scans his surroundings before “Hellraiser” begins playing once more. Turning back to the ring, he continues down the aisle. As he finally gets to the ring, he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and stares over the crowd. As icy glare and a throat slash gesture his only actions as he drops to the mat.
POWERS: “And the opponent!”
Suddenly, the arena goes dark.

The lights come up as “Blow It Out” by Ludacris blasts throughout the arena. The crowd showers down boos as Keith Daniels steps out onto the stage. He beckons the crowd to boo louder and grins. He smirks and proceeds down the ramp.
POWERS: Making his way to the ring, now residing in Orlando, FL, he stands six feet ten inches tall and weighs in at three-hundred and forty six pounds… He is ‘The Dangerous One’ KEITH 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: “We have two seasoned vets in the ring tonight folks and this match is primed to be an instant classic.”
VASSA: “These guys are freaking huge! I don’t think that ring can even contain them”
JOHNSON: “We’re about to find out first hand if it can or can’t.”
VASSA: “Get ready for the match of the evening everyone!”
After checking with both corners, the official throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

Not showing any restraint, both Daniels and Stevens quickly leave their corners in a hurry and collide in the center of the ring with an exchange of punches. Connecting with a solid right, Daniels whips Stevens head to the side only to catch a right to the jaw as Stevens swings in retaliation, putting all of his weight behind the punch. Lunging forward, Daniels throws a right for Stevens head only to have it blocked as Stevens swats it to the side and counters with a kick to the midsection.
As Daniels lunges over from the kick to the gut, he steps forward and wraps both arms around Stevens’ legs, lifting him off his feet and slamming him onto his back. Crawling over Stevens, Daniels draws back his right hand, leaving himself exposed as Stevens swings upward, connecting with a fist underneath the chin, knocking Daniels off of him. The two quickly race to their feet, Stevens standing first and then Daniels shortly after. Stevens closes in on Daniels, both arms stretched before closing them to lock on, but as he does, Daniels drops his shoulder and drives it into Stevens’ stomach.
Stepping in beside Stevens, Daniels uses his size advantage to lift the man up with a pump-handle and slams him back first to the canvas. With Stevens down at his feet, Daniels begins stomping on him over and over before reaching down and pulling him up from the mat. Wrapping Stevens up with both arms, Daniels then displays his strength and lifts him into the air and drives him into the mat with a belly to belly suplex.

VASSA: “I expect to see nothing but power moves from both of these big ass mother fuckers!”
JOHNSON: “We have two of 4CW’s biggest people in the ring and I expect nothing but wreckage to be left behind after it’s all said and done.”
VASSA: “We should have put these two in the parking lot instead.”
Pulling Stevens up from the mat, Daniels whips him to the far ropes and as he comes back on the rebound, Daniels takes off towards him and spears him in the center of the ring. With Stevens laid out on the mat, Daniels pushes himself up and then turns to the nearby corner. After making his way over to it, he ascends to the top and quickly turns back around to face Stevens. Leaping away from the corner, the big man soars through the air before gravity takes over and pulls him down to deliver an elbow drop to Stevens’ chest.
JOHNSON: “Almost three hundred fifty pounds of –.”
VASSA: “He missed!”

Rolling out of the way, Stevens leaves nothing but canvas to break Daniel’s fall as he crashes against it. Up in a hurry, Stevens closes in on Daniels and kicks him repeatedly in the side of the head before dropping a knee onto his face. Standing back up, Stevens then drops another knee, and then stands up to deliver a third. Pulling Daniels up to his feet, Stevens positions himself behind the big man and wraps him up around the waist. Lifting Daniels into the air, Stevens falls back and drives him into the mat with a German suplex.
Rolling over top of Daniels, Stevens mounts himself on top and then begins slamming hammering fists into Daniels’ head. After knocking Daniels into a daze, Stevens rises to his feet and then pulls him up from the mat once more. Holding him up, Stevens slaps him across the chest with a knife edge chop. Daniels takes a swing for Stevens’ head but misses as Stevens ducks underneath and steps in behind him. Locking in a half nelson, Stevens pulls Daniels down and holds him at an upright angle. He then lifts him off his feet and drives him head first into the mat as he transitions the half nelson into a suplex.

VASSA: “Jesus Christ they’re going to tear the ring down!”
JOHNSON: “I don’t know how much longer this ring will be able to withstand that kind of weight being dropped on it.”
As Stevens rises to his feet and stands over Daniels, his attention is quickly grabbed as a voice fills the arena.
“Have you heard about the lonesome loser!”

Furious, Stevens begins scanning over the crowd while pacing the ring. After a few moments pass, Stevens turns back to Daniels and makes his way over. Pulling him up to his feet, Stevens draws back and then swings forward, connecting with a powerful right hand to the jaw, knocking Daniels backwards towards the corner.
VASSA: “You got knocked the fuck out!”
JOHNSON: “Watch out!”
Without anywhere to go, the official braces himself as Daniels body closes in on him and squashes him in the corner.
VASSA: “Daniels just killed the ref!”
Falling forward, Daniels crashes to the mat as the official then falls on top of him before rolling over to his side. With a smile on his face, Stevens stands tall in the ring before his attention is grabbed yet again.
“Have you heard about the lonesome loser!”

Stevens looks over the crowd and then to the entrance way but nothing is found. Turning back to Daniels and the official, Stevens steps forward until stopping as a loud roar is heard from the crowd.
VASSA: “What the fu–“
JOHNSON: “It’s Darin Zion!”
Hopping over the barricade, Zion then slides into the ring as Stevens slowly begins to turn around.
VASSA: “What’s he doing here! This ain’t no man to man!”
As Stevens finally turns around, his eyes light up as Zion charges towards him. Leaping into the air, Zion hits him in the side of the head with a running knee strike.
Staggering back and forth, Stevens drops to the mat with a thud. Pulling a microphone out from his pocket, Zion stands over Stevens and speaks into it.
ZION: “You knew I’d come…”
Dropping the mic, Zion walks over to the official and shakes him, waking him up. Exiting the ring, Zion slowly backs up the ramp as Daniels crawls over to Stevens fallen body and covers him for the pin. Barely able to even function, the official drags himself beside them and then begins the count.

JOHNSON: “Keith Daniels wins it!”
VASSA: “And all thanks to that little annoying fuck, Zion!”
JOHNSON: “Now the question on everyone’s mind is why. Why is he here in 4CW?”
VASSA: “I don’t know but he made a grand appearance tonight!”
JOHNSON: “This is going to be interesting.”
VASSA: “Maybe if someone throws him into head-on traffic!”
Slowly climbing to his feet, Daniels holds on to the ropes, unaware of Zion making his way up the ramp with a smile on his face. The official then raises Daniels’ hand into the air.
POWERS: “Here is your winner… KEITH DDAANNIIEELLSS!!!”
Stopping at the top of the ramp, Zion begins laughing hysterically before turning his back to the ring and disappearing through the entrance way.

The scene cuts to the backstage area in the Wells Fargo Arena. We see a man, dressed to wrestle, wearing an Aidan Carlisle t-shirt. The man bun seems to be the dead giveaway, the fans cheering as they see Bryan Williams appear on the screen. He looks to be in a locker room, a television and Playstation 4 set up as he plays a game. Bryan looks to be in the middle of a match, as he plays the 4CW video game. He seems to be struggling, upset over how the game is playing.
WILLIAMS: “Fucking piece of shit. Worst game Rockstar has ever made, I swear!”
Bryan continues to struggle, eventually his character gets knocked down to the mat. The camera moves slightly and we see that Bryan is controlling Jason Cashe!
WILLIAMS: “Son of a bitch, why’d I pick the worst character in this damn thing?!”
The match is finished, shortly after. Bryan drops the controller, sighing in frustration as he looks over to the camera. He feigns surprise for a moment.
WILLIAMS: “Oh! Hello, didn’t notice you all there. I was just playing a match in the 4CW video game, available now in stores… Not that any of you had bought it or anything. Still though, I’m just sitting here trying to relax before my big match tonight. I know some of you are wondering how that’s going to go down. Especially when you consider what happened last time Jair and I got into the ring with each other…”
Bryan grows quiet for a moment, the crowd booing in remembrance. Bryan hops up out of the chair, brushing off the past as he gives the camera a smile.
WILLIAMS: “No reason to dwell on the past though, because tonight I start moving forward. It’s interesting that I bring up the past though, because people have been asking me the same question since last Adrenaline. They all want to know how I feel about Jason Cashe, and what I think about him turning on me. Clearly everyone thought we had a good shot at beating the Davidsons, but somehow Jason Cashe didn’t seem to think so.”
A disconcerting look on Bryan’s face, as he shakes his head in disappointment.
WILLIAMS: “I was pretty frustrated, I won’t lie. I thought we had a good chance, and I was willing to put all of the negativity and bullshit behind us for that win. I was taking it seriously, and I would have taken being tag champions with him seriously. Alas, he just didn’t have the same ideas as me. Clocking me with his elbow was a higher priority, and I ate the pin.”
Bryan’s gloomy mood soon seems to turn, a smile coming back onto his face as he claps his hands together.
WILLIAMS: “BUT … that isn’t to say that I’m in a down mood. I have a chance at redemption tonight, in more ways than one. I get to go out there and show everyone in Des Moines, Iowa that Bryan Williams always bounces back. I won’t let Jason Cashe hold me down, and I certainly won’t let the past hold me down either. I want to move forward, I look onwards in my 4CW career. Jason Cashe, we’ll be meeting in the ring soon enough and I’ll get you back. Believe me, I can’t wait for that … but I’m not focused on it entirely. There are others I want to meet in that ring, others that I want to face. Chris Madison obviously being at the top of that list…”
The crowd seems to approve of the callout, Bryan Williams standing confidently as he stares into the camera with a smirk on his face.
WILLIAMS: “Madison has been a terror in this company for a long while now, but I don’t think he’s really faced a great level of talent yet. I don’t think he has been in the wars he should have already been in. I think Madison needs to be tested, he needs to be pushed to the absolute limit. Chris, you’re already one foot out the door and I can understand that. That doesn’t mean you’re not a competitor, that doesn’t mean you don’t want to scrap with the absolute best. I’m going to claw my way up, work up through the rankings … because I don’t believe you’re done with this company yet. I still think you have some miles to go, so I’ll be working. I’m going to make my way to you soon enough, and then I can give you the proper goodbye that you deserve.”
The crowd cheers, a pseudo challenge being posed here tonight on Adrenaline! Bryan relaxes, as he smiles again.
WILLIAMS: “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready for my match and see a certain someone about getting my money back. They said this game wasn’t that great, but goddamn…”
Bryan mumbles some more, taking the game out of the Playstation as he leaves the locker room and the scene.


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 raisedAs 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.
“Ladies and Gentlemen coming to the ring weighing in at One Hundred and Thirty Five pounds, from Boston, Massachusetts, she is The Boston Genie….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 wraps her arms around the top rope and flips backwards into the ring. Flipping her long hair back and sliding her hands seductively down the side of her body as she mouths the word FLAWLESS and waves off the crowds booing with disgust as she makes her way to the corner and begins stretching as her theme fades out.
VASSA: ”She’s been struggling a bit since coming to Adrenaline but I have to say Stevie, she looks motivated tonight”
JOHNSON: ”Indeed she does. Soon enough we’ll find out if appearance translates into reality.”
“Release me”

The two words from the Public Address system in the arena cause the fans in attendance, already on their feet, to react with disdain and unappreciative shouts. Kat Jones, 4CW’s resident, badass Cincinnati native of ill repute methodically makes her way to the top of the ramp from the gorilla position. Her black shorts and knee high boots are more characterizing of her facial expression and attitude toward the scathing crowd, than her highly decorative top full of self expression.
“No remnants were ever found of it
Feeling the hot bile
With every fake smile
Though no evidence was ever found
It never went away completely”

Kat walks toward the ring, methodically and without much concern at all, regarding the insults and jeers thrown in her direction.
POWERS: “Making her way to the ring, hailing from Cincinnati, Ohio, standing five feet, eight inches tall and weighing in at one hundred twenty four pounds, she is the “WildKat”… KAT JJOONNEESS!!!”
“I try to hide from the unholy sound of it
Another day gone
Another night’s dawn”

Standing before the ring apron, Kat removes her black leather jacket, whips it behind her, releasing it and allowing it to sail toward the ramp, ultimately letting out a bloodcurdling scream, before she enters the ring and awaits the beginning of the match. As the two women stare each other down, waiting for the beginning of their match, Elijah Carlson and JPD emerge from the backstage area with buckets of popcorn in their hands.
JOHNSON: ”What the hell do these two think they are doing?”
VASSA: ”It looks like they’re making their way in our direction, Stevie.”

The referee in the ring signals for the bell as Eli and JPD make their way to the commentary table. A loud thud and the shuffle of bodies, along with a few curse words, can be heard as the two men dispose of the two commentators with ease. Kat seems a bit distracted by the shenanigans but Genie is entirely focused. At the sound of the bell she fires herself across the ring and knocks Kat down with a stiff strike to the jaw. Obnoxiously from the commentators table, Eli and JPD celebrate and cheer Genie on like she just won the Super Bowl just for knocking her opponent down. An arrogant smirk crosses her lips as she flips her hair over her shoulder and winks in her new husbands direction.
CARLSON: ”That’s why I married that woman. Goddamn she can hit. And have you seen that ass? I mean, I don’t wanna cause problems but it rivals Tara’s if I do say so myself.”
J.DAVIDSON: ”Eh, I wouldn’t go that far now Eli but I will give her this. She’s certainly got a nicer ass than that troll named Kat Jones that she’s facing tonight..”
The two men laugh while Kat uses the ropes to climb back to her feet. Genie is having none of that, though, and stands her up straight with a chop to the chest. She then whips Kat into the opposite ropes and charges at her on the rebound, nearly taking Kat’s head off with a clothesline. Again, Genie pauses to celebrate her early momentum by holding her arms out, much to the dismay of the crowd. They had never liked her much and they liked her even less now that she had aligned herself with Perry Wallace and Kaysie Sherell. Showing off, Genie bend her arm and kisses her elbow before dropping it down right to the sternum of her opponent.
Genie pops right back up to her feet and repeats the process of kissing her elbow and then dropping it across the sternum of Kat Jones, who just doesn’t seem to have ‘it’ on this particular evening. The newlywed stands up once more, kissing her elbow and then flipping Kat the bird before dropping an elbow to Kat’s sternum for a third time. Immediately Genie covers and hooks the leg but Kat has enough fight left in her to kick out and begin to roll over, pushing herself up to her hands and knees.

J. DAVIDSON: ”Well, Kat now finds herself in what surely was Drew Stevenson’s favorite position of hers when they were married. That’s probably so that he didn’t have to look at her face.”
CARLSON: ”Do you think he tried to include his other four thousand wives in their marriage?”
Kat manages to get to a kneeling position before Genie decides to continue her attack. As Genie approaches, Kat responds for the first time with a punch to Genie’s abdomen but is immediately answered by Genevie with a vicious open handed slap across Kat’s face that left a red hand print. It’s almost as though Genie is disgusted at the notion that Kat would have the audacity to even touch her let alone fight back. To her credit, Kat touched her cheek and connected with another strike to Genie’s stomach before getting fully back to her feet. The two women take similar steps backwards and charge at each other, taking each other down with double clotheslines.
Genie’s head bounces off the mat and she immediately rolls out of the ring to collect herself, leaving Kat alone in the ring momentarily. At ringside a group of young men begin shouting at Genie trying to get her attention and when she gives it to them the lift their shirts to reveal painted stomachs that read “WE LOVE GENIE.” While others might have been flattered, Genie looks at them with pity and points to her ring finger with her bottom lip pouting out. With her attention on the fans, Kat has the time to recover in the ring and moves towards the ropes just as Genie is turning around. The woman from Boston is much to quick on the uptake for Kat to take advantage of the sliver of opportunity she had, as Genie moves swiftly to the ring apron and reaches up, hooking her arms around Kat’s head and dropping down to the outside of the ring once more, crushing Kat’s throat against the unforgiving ropes. Genie then reaches under the bottom rope and grabs hold of Kat’s ankles, tripping her up and causing her to fall backward onto her back.
In one graceful motion, Genie slid back into the ring and climbed on top of Kat, stroking the woman’s cheek for a moment before leaning down and placing a peck squarely on the lips of her opponent.

CARLSON: ”Oh god….”
J. DAVIDSON: ”Eli… ELI! Don’t go full Jett Wilder on us. Come back to me buddy.”
Withdrawing her lips from Kat’s, Genie rakes Kat’s eyes until the referee forces her off, having completed the maneuver she refers to as THIS LOVE, THIS HATE. Genie gives Kat a moment to recover but it’s not enough for the woman to mount any defense when Genie closes the distance between them and begins to stomp her viciously. Kat manages to maneuver herself to where she can grab hold of the bottom rope but Genie doesn’t relent in her stomps. Instead she keeps going until the ref has to physically pull her away from Kat and warn her once again. It’s clear that if she calls his authority into question any more she’s going to be disqualified. As though she doesn’t know what he’s talking about, Genie huffs and pouts, jutting out her bottom lip and batting her eyelashes at the man.
CARLSON: ”Damn it I knew I should have brought chocolate syrup and whipped cream with us.”
J. DAVIDSON: ”Uhhhhh… why?”
CARLSON: ”So Genie and I would have something to do while waiting for Kat to get back up?”
J. DAVIDSON: ”Oh…. OHHHHH! Ugh, keep that shit to twitter, man.”
Slowly recovering from the onslaught, Kat crawls on her hands and knees back to the center of the ring. Genie, who had been busy eye fucking her husband and not paying any attention to her opponent, turned and rolled her eyes. She then took two quick steps towards Kat and leapt into the air. Catching her off guard, Kat suddenly stood upright and knocked her down with a clothesline, immediately going for the cover. The referee slid in and began to count.

J. DAVIDSON: ”Uh oh. Better watch out, Kat. Genie’s got that look in her eye that she gets when Eli tells her how much Tom Brady sucks.”
CARLSON: ”Like me when I make those statements about Tom Brady, you’re not wrong Jason.”
Genie and Kat both get back to their feet at the same time and move towards each other. Genie quickly ducks under a missed strike by Kat and bounces off the ropes, retaliating with a well executed bulldog, Kat’s face bouncing off the mat. Without delaying any longer, Genie scrambles back to her feet and backs up as once again Kat pushes herself up to her hands and knees. In one fluid motion, Genie strides towards Kat and leaps into the air, her boot meeting the back of Kats skull, forcefully pushing her face first into the mat. STILETTO KISS. Kat’s face smacks off of the mat and bounces up as she rolls over onto her back. Genie then places one boot on the chest of her opponent and screams at the referee to count.

J. DAVIDSON: ”Annnnd another pussy is beaten beyond recognition or use.”
CARLSON: ”Uhh. What are you talking about JPD?”
J. DAVIDSON: ’Because her name is Kat. Pussy. Kat. Get it?
Eli laughs obnoxiously as he and JPD remove their commentary headsets and fling them at Vassa and Johnson who had been waiting impatiently to resume their jobs. In the ring, the referee grabs Genie by the wrist to raise her hand in victory but she pulls her hand away, shouting at the man that she can do it herself. After a moment of scowling at the zebra striped official, Genie smiles and raises her arm in the air in victory.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall…. GEENNNNNEEEEVVVIIIIEEEEEEE!!!!!”
JPD and Eli slide into the ring to celebrate with Genie, with JPD and Genie fist bumping before Eli and Genie began making out in the center of the ring, much to the dismay of the crowd who was busy booing loudly.
JOHNSON: ”What a disgusting display if I do say so myself. I like this Royal Family less and less with each passing week.”
VASSA: ”I understand what you’re saying, Steve. But you can’t deny that when they’re firing on all cylinders they’re a force to be reckoned with.
JOHNSON: ”The question now, is, what exactly is in store for Genevie and the Royal Family heading into Fright Night?”

Once again, the camera cuts to backstage, where Genevie is reuniting with her fiancée Elijah Carlson after her match is over. Elijah, as always, is holding his beloved pig Babe in his arms.
GENEVIE: “Hi Babe, I mean – hi Eli.”
CARLSON: “Hi Genie. You did good today, Babe.”
GENEVIE: “Aww, you really think so?”
CARLSON: “What? No, I meant Babe. He’s been really well-behaved here backstage.”
Genevie pouts, but Elijah chuckles.
CARLSON: “Just kidding honey, you did great too.”
They look at each other warmly and go for a hug, but at that point they notice DA #TROLL GUY, Mariano Fernandez, walking past them. He goes about his own business, singing absent-mindedly.
FERNANDEZ: “I wanna be the very best, the best that ever was… to catch them is my real test, to train them is my cause…”
Once he notices them, he waves at them nonchalantly.
FERNANDEZ: “Oh, hey chicos! How you guys doing?”
His outfit seems normal enough, a red jacket, blue jeans and a matching red cap, but something seems strange about him – he’s holding a red cell phone, as if he were looking for something.
CARLSON: “What are you doing here?”
FERNANDEZ: “Oh, don’t worry about me, mang – I’m just hunting Pokémon. I figure, with all the critters around you, maybe you happen to see any around?”
Elijah and Genevie look confusedly at Mariano, and then at each other.
GENEVIE: “Umm… no?”
CARLSON: “Can’t say we have, dude.”
Mariano shrugs, and gives them a thumbs up sign.
MARIANO: “Oh well, no problem mang. I’ll just keep looking. See ya around!”
CARLSON: “Have fun.”
He waves goodbye and goes about his way again, singing to himself. Elijah and Genevie look at him go and shake their heads.


POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
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. 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.
POWERS: ”And making his way to the ring, from the Darkest Recesses of your Mind, weighing in at 317 pounds he is KKASH!”
He walks to the ring with a confident swagger, still with his arms outstretched, avoiding interaction with the fans. Approaching the ring, he stops at the end of the ramp, staring ahead.
JOHNSON: “After making it to the second round of Bad Company Two, Kash and Kat Jones came up short against the team of Ascended Supremacy.”
VASSA: “The Sickness put up one hell of a fi–“
JOHNSON: “Wait a second!”
The crowd erupts as Bryan Laughlin runs out from the back and charges straight down the ramp, headed for Kash.
VASSA: “It’s Bryan Laughlin!”
JOHNSON: “Forget about making a scheduled entrance!”
Noticing the reaction from the crowd, Kash slowly turns around only to be surprised as Laughlin lunges forward and connects with a stiff right to his mouth.
Stumbling backwards, Kash crashes against the side of the ring, holding himself up with his arm stretched across the apron.
JOHNSON: “Instead of sitting around in the back and waiting for his name to be called, Bryan is bringing the fight right here to Kash’s doorstep.”
VASSA: “I don’t think he even knows where he is after that blindsided punch to the face.”
Grabbing ahold of Kash, Laughlin pulls him away from the apron and quickly turns him around. Locking onto his head with both hands, Laughlin then slams it forward, driving his face onto the apron.
JOHNSON: “If Kash wasn’t awake, he is now!”
VASSA: “Laughlin found one way to counter the size difference between the two and went with a surprise attack to set the tone.”
Lifting Kash up onto the apron, Laughlin then rolls him underneath the bottom rope and into the ring. Turning to his left, he proceeds towards the ringside steps and quickly ascends to the top. Climbing the corner, Laughlin then stands at the top with his sights locked on Kash below, still down and on his back. With both men somewhat in the ring, the official then signals for the bell.

JOHNSON: “After a little scuffle at the beginning, our match has officially started!”
VASSA: “A little scuffle? Bryan just kicked Kash’s ass at ringside and then threw him into the ring. Kash entered under Bryan’s terms!”
Leaping as high into the air as he can, Bryan comes down with a vicious diving headbutt to Kash’s forehead.
JOHNSON: “Did you just see the air Laughlin reached with that jump from the corner?!”
VASSA: “JPD calls himself Superman but Bryan just went above and beyond with that leap!”
Rolling Kash over to his stomach, Bryan then crawls over his back. Locking in a camel clutch, Bryan drops his weight across Kash’s back while trying to break him in half!
JOHNSON: “It’s going to be hard for Kash to get out of that move!”
VASSA: “Bryan has it locked in and it doesn’t look like he’s letting up one bit.”
Lowering his head, Laughlin then opens his mouth and sinks his teeth into the top of Kash’s skull, biting down with a devilish look in his eyes.
JOHNSON: “Oh man, he’s gone mad!”
VASSA: “Bite the shit out of him, Bryan!”
As Bryan continues to bite down onto Kash’s head, the official begins the five count, yelling into Bryan’s ear.
“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Fi–“

Pulling his head back and removing his teeth from Kash’s skull, Bryan releases the hold and stands tall. Looking down with a smile on his face, Bryan eyes the blood now trickling from the teeth marks in Kash’s head. Stepping to the side of Kash, Laughlin then lifts his head up from the mat and drags him close to the corner. Slamming his head forward, Bryan drives Kash’s face into the bottom turnbuckle and then rolls him to the edge of the ring, ignoring the officials demands to ease up. Pushing Kash underneath the bottom ropes, Laughlin gives him once more thrust, sending him over the edge of the apron and down to the floor.
VASSA: “What the hell is he doing?”
JOHNSON: “Just how he rolled Kash into the ring, he’s now rolled him out of the ring.”
Dipping through the ropes, Bryan exits to the apron and then drops down to the floor below. Looking down at Kash face first to the floor, Bryan then lifts his foot into the air and slams it down onto the back of Kash’s head as the official begins the ten count.
“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Five!”

Turning to the ramp, Laughlin then leaves it all behind him as he proceeds towards the top of the stage, ignoring the officials count.
VASSA: “Where the hell is he going?!”
JOHNSON: “I think he’s goin g to the back?”
“Six! … Seven! … Eight!”

Stopping at the top of the stage, Bryan turns to look back at ringside where kash is still down and barely moving at all. With a smirk on his face, he then turns towards the entrance way and disappears into the back.
“Nine! … Ten!”

VASSA: “What the fuck?!”
JOHNSON: “We have a double count out folks!”
Throwing his hand into the air, the official signals for the bell as the fans look on in silence.

POWERS: “The result of the match has been decided as a double count out!”
Still in silence, the crowd continues looking on, unsure of what to think of Laughlin leaving behind a pile of wreckage at ringside.
JOHNSON: “There you have it ladies and gentlemen! Bryan Laughlin came, conquered, and then walked away.”
VASSA: “What the hell is he thinking? He just threw the match away and had demolished Kash before the bell even sounded.”
JOHNSON: “I don’t know what is going through his mind but whatever it is, there’s a statement to be made about what just happened before our eyes.”
VASSA: “He just opened up a can of whoop ass on Kash and left him in a puddle of his own piss.”
JOHNSON: “Maybe he thought this was too easy of an opponent?”
VASSA: “I don’t know what it is! I just want to know why.”
JOHNSON: “Management isn’t going to be happy about the result of this match, or Bryan’s actions.”
VASSA: “And I honestly don’t think he gives a damn.”
JOHNSON: “We’re going to go backstage as we clean up this mess at ringside. We’ll be right back folks.”

The inside of a public bathroom backstage and there wouldn’t be too many this segment could belong too. A closed stall door, one of four setup sharing walls and only one of them was closed. Behind it hidden away comes the sound of a violently flushing toilet. The latch echos out as the door opens and Jason Cashe comes out. Smile on his face as he is wearing a “Bulletproof” Tate Troy T-Shirt. The very one that Bryan Williams had given him the night they competed as teammates for Bad Company II. Pointing at it, Cashe giggles and approaches the sinks. The camera filming from his side as he lets soap drop in his hands and begins to wash.
CASHE: “You know why I like Iowa? Did you hear that flush? You could put a solid gold bar down that bitch and it’s not going to get clogged! Amazing! Simply amazing plumbing they’ve got here! I almost ran out of toilet paper… Good thing I had this shirt on right? Heh!”
Now into the rinse of his hand wash Cashe flings his wet hands at the bowl of the sink. Looking for the paper towels he shrugs and wipes them down onto the shirt he was wearing. It might as well have been a giant napkin. It had a few stains on it. One looking like mustard and he LOVED him some mustard and biscuits.
CASHE: “You see that Opener tonight!? Right? Shit was nice wasn’t it? See that’s what 4CW offers guys like me. Not just a breeding ground for hoes looking for married men but it has competition. That’s what is most important at the end of the day. Why I’m here! Why guys like Chris Madison, Jair Hopkins are here! I say them because I’ve over the years come to respect them 100%. Even as a rival Hopkins had earned something so many have just come up short from gaining. I was told on Twitter that respect was earned when it was given…”
Shaking his head he didn’t agree with that sentiment and wasn’t going to be the nice guy if people felt that way.
CASHE: “Fuck that noise. You want my respect or even if you don’t it’s ONLY being earned when you step up and put up a fight. Win or lose and tonight? Eli earned some. He’s still a bitch ass puppet but he got that Special Made Co-Sign and how many can say that on this roster? Maybe that holds no value, I dunno. Don’t rightfully care neither but I will say this!! You MIGHT just be seeing me trying to place MY name in the Pride Title picture…”
“See THAT’S what we want!”
From the ONLY blind spot Cashe has where he was standing comes the man from his last promo. Lamar Edwards and again he was dressed in a flashy suit. Expensive, the whole nine. How long he had been in the bathroom was the first thing that came to Cashe’s mind seeing him.
CASHE: “Hold up! Did you hear me singing?”
EDWARDS: “I did actually. Not as good as Taylor Swift but hey… Shake it off! It felt like a pooping song when you were singing it!”
CASHE: “look man… That was a prairie dog. Wouldn’t come out and that song works with you wiggle around.”
Flapping his arms around like he wanted to erase that part of the conversation. Cashe changes the topic.
CASHE: “Why are you here? In the bathroom? Really homie? Like you HAD to be in here while I’m taking a deuce? Like… who does that!?”
EDWARDS: “I enjoyed your match tonight. I wanted to talk. To get your decision… What’ll it be?”
CASHE: “You know… I haven’t really given it much thought to be honest. I haven’t talked to Queef, I don’t even know WHAT the fuck you want even! There are a lot of details that need to be placed before me. I can’t just randomly make a decision ya feel me? Not without the information.”
EDWARDS: “So then your answer is no?”
Accepting the apparent answer Lamar Edwards turns to walk away but something in Jason Cashe just won’t let him. Grabbing out, Cashe pulls back on Edwards’ arm. The suits sleeve was just magically soft. Something most wouldn’t detail but it caught Cashe’s attention. Not wanting to add more to an already awkward conversation he goes with his gut.
CASHE: “I’ll give you a verbal agreement now. You want a sure thing? Put it in writing WITH the details of all you want and will need from me. That’s business. Take that shit or keep walking. So to you I’m asking now….”
Extending his hand just as Edwards had done on the subway train back in New York. Cashe offered a shake.
CASHE: “Do you accept these terms?”
Staring at the hand of Jason Cashe and then up into his eyes. His hair had grown longer, his beard looks groomed some. No doubt due to Marquis but none of that was what Edwards was staring at. He looked into the eyes of the “Troubled1” and aggressively shakes his hand. Grinding his teeth as the both slightly nod for this “verbal” agreement to… WHATEVER this will be.

Cue the lights in the arena starting to fade and flicker out, while a spotlight appears on the stage.
“Woahh Wa-ohhh, Wa-ohhh-ohh-ohh,
Woahh Wa-ohhh, Wa-ohhh-ohh-ohh!”

After the chanting, the opening trumpets of “Everyone Else is an Asshole” by Reel Big Fish kick in, the arena lights still flickering while the spotlight begins to strobe around the stage. Adrian Tanner Junior and Johnny Evil appear on the stage: They’re both wearing the newly designed Asshole Antagonist’s T shirts from the 4CW Merchandise Shop along with jeans, basically they’re dressed in common street clothing. Bothe have microphones in their hands. Johnny Evil is wheeling a luggage bag behind him. He let’s go of it and looks around for a moment, before stepping over to one side of the stage and pointing outward with his finger into the audience. Johnny makes his way to the other side of the stage and does the same thing. He then paces and begins to hop around a bit and hype up the crowd.
“I tried to be nice
I tried to live my life
But everyone else is an asshole”

At “Asshole” Adrian throws his arms out and fireworks explode from the stage. Both men grin before Johnny grabs the luggage bag once more and begins wheeling it down the ramp with Adrian following behind him, slapping hands with some fans here and there.
“I tried to forgive
I tried to live and let live
But everyone else is an asshole”

Once Johnny makes his way to the ringside area, he places the luggage bag in the corner of the ring through the bottom rope before he slides through the bottom rope himself. He begins a pace around the ring before ascending the ropes. Adrian slides in from the other side of the ring, climbing the opposite side of the ropes of his partner. He makes a ‘gun’ motion with his hand and ‘fires,’ then jumps down. Johnny begins talking and hyping up the audience as he lifts his arms into the air and sways them up and down. As the music music dies down and the lights return to their normal state. They pace around for a moment before Johnny lifts the microphone to his mouth and begins to speak…
EVIL: “Ladies and gentlemen in attendance, kids whos parents don’t care if they see something as cutting edge as Adrenaline and all the 4CW enthusiasts watching all around the world… and of course a very special mention to my Evil Minion Nation… I’m The Mouthpiece Of Mayhem, Johnny Evil!!
Adrian then joins in…
TANNER: “And I am the Ghost with the Most, the Surgeon General of Santa Monica, the… whatever the fuck I put on my bio that one time to sucker Father of the Year Dante Anglais into the easiest troll in history- but most importantly, I am the Arizona Assassin, Adrian! Tanner! Junior!
They both look at each other for a moment and smirk…
EVIL/TANNER: “By our powers and entertaining skills combined… we are The Asshole Antagonists!!
Tanner looks around and hypes the crowd a bit as Johnny continues to talk.
EVIL: “Tonight is a very special night, because not only do we get to personally send off one of the worst wrestlers on the roster, but we also get to rock these brand new T-shirts that you can get from the 4CW website to show your support…
TANNER: “That’s right, and it’s only for Perry Wallace’s super-steep price of thirty-nine ninety nine!”
EVIL: “Speaking of all that… let me address the elephant in the room and talk about this crazy Perry Wallace situation for a moment. I mean, it’s quite scary when your boss falls asleep on a roster wide conference call concerning Four Corners Wrestling, but it’s even scarier when the first thing that comes outta’ his mouth when he wakes up is the tip of good ol’ Johnny Evil’s penis!”
Adrian Tanner Jr. looks over at Johnny and replies while Evil makes a disturbed face…
TANNER: … “but if you’re Johnny Evil, and your penis is Johnny Evil’s penis, then who was phone?”
EVIL: “Perry’s active imagination. The fuckin’ irony of it all! That last comment I made is not suppose to be taken literally, but at the same time it also falls along the no pun intended clique. Look Perry, I get it… Your bread is buttered on the opposite side compared to everyone else in this business. I mean you know how many people last week told me to run or that I might need a restraining order. I don’t wanna’ do that so I came up with a full proof plan to stop you from ever getting involved with any physical contact with my junk…”
Johnny Evil reaches into his pocket and pulls out a male chastity-belt. He eyes it over quickly, turning it around and examining it…
EVIL: Shit “Tanner, I don’t even think this thing will fit?”
Tanner puts a concerned look across his face.
TANNER: “Don’t look at me, man. Perry Wallace doesn’t want the tip of my penis. He specifically said Johnny Evil!”
Johnny continues to look at it for a moment before giving off a meh’ kind of expression and tossing it out into the audience. He watches as it lands into the rows of fans and smirks, giving a wink.
EVIL: “Well, I guess some lucky women in the audience got a present that’s going to help her make sure that her husband never cheats on her again??”
After shrugging it off, Johnny and Tanner look over at the luggage bag that they left resting in the corner of the ring. Johnny looks around the arena with a smirk on his face.
EVIL: “Now, I guess you’re all sitting in those seats tonight wondering exactly what’s so important inside that luggage bag? If you’re not don’t worry, we aren’t all that worried about it either. It’s just about as important as Maddox Lucien’s career!”
Tanner taps Johnny Evil on the shoulder and gives a nod…
TANNER: “I’m still curious to know, what’s in the bag?”
EVIL: “Well, I’m sure you heard the news about Maddox. Tonight is going to be his last match in a 4CW ring. I guess he couldn’t hang with the brutal crowd that we have backstage. So, I personally took time outta’ my busy ass schedule to pack our dear friend and non-talented homie Maddox Lucien a going away bag myself.”
Tanner gives off a frown shaking his head in disappointment. In an over-exaggerated tone of sadness, almost as sad as Maddox Lucien’s career, he replies.
TANNER: “You should have told me, Johnny. I would have contributed to the cause. You’re making me seem like I’m some cheap jerk-off right now!”
Johnny pats Adrian on the shoulder as a sarcastic display of comfort.
EVIL: “Don’t worry brodie… It can be from both of us, I don’t want you to feel left out.”
Tanner crosses his arms, feigned sadness returning to small smirk.
TANNER: “Aces.”
EVIL: “So… (Johnny’s eyes widen, almost bulging from his head just as excited as Adrian Tanner) do you wanna’ see what’s inside??”
Both Tanner and Evil walk over to the luggage bag. Evil leans down and grips it in a heavy handed manner, slinging it up onto the top turnbuckle to use it as a makeshift table. After he unzips the bag, he looks inside and points down into it. Adrian looks into it and begins shaking his head in agreement. At this point, Johnny reaches in and pulls out the first going away gift for Lucien… A dildo…
Gripping it with two fingers as if he’s scared to touch it, Johnny holds it high into the air.

EVIL: “I figured since Maddox wants to blame Perry for fucking him, which we all know isn’t true. He might as well stop living in denial and do what he’s really been doing all along… fucking himself!!”
Tanner cuts in…
TANNER: “I hope you got him some lube.”
EVIL: “Nah, Maddox Lucien likes to think he’s a rough it out kinda’ dude. I think he can rough this one on his own?”
Giving off a shrug of the shoulders, Johnny drops the sex-object back into the bag. Reaching around again, Johnny pulls out an unopened box of tissues…
EVIL: “Now this right here is just in case Maddox wants to cry himself to sleep at night?”
TANNER: “I dunno if he wants to do that. I mean Maddox has thick skin, he’s a pretty tough dude… in the fanfiction he writes about himself at three from the hobo shelter.”
EVIL: “You’re right, maybe I should have bought Mr. Violence a supply of sand-paper to wipe those tiddy-baby tears from his ‘tough little cheeks’? I’m sure he’s gonna have two sets of tough little cheeks after he uses the first going away present??”
TANNER: “But Johnny, Mr. Violence was in jail before… I think?? It’s hard to believe a damn word that guy says!”
EVIL: “Wait, you’re right. He probably had a cell-mate named Bubba who already got to him. In that case he should definitely be fine without the lube. Go figure I thought I was being a douche by not tossing that in the bag with the rest of the stuff. (looking around, he smirks) who knew?”
Tossing the box of tissues back into the bag, Johnny Evil reaches around of another moment before pulling a prescription bottle out. He shakes the pill bottle against the microphone so you can vividly hear the pills inside rattling. The camera then zooms in on the label, causing the contents to read…
… Randall Kash
Lexapro (20 mg) QTY:60
Dr. Ynnhoj Live

Adrian Tanner peers over and looks at the medication bottle, before blurting out…
TANNER: “I always knew Randy needed pills to get Down with the Sickness. ”
EVIL: “Exactly. I figure if Maddox doesn’t know what to do with himself he could always over medicate? I had to snatch these from Randall Kash’s dressing room when I arrived here earlier. Don’t worry everyone, he won’t miss them. Much like people won’t miss Maddox when he’s gone!”
TANNER: “I don’t think there’s enough pills to Stupify Maddox any more than he already is, but hopefully he’ll take enough to Shout 2000 at the Voices until they Numb his Violence Fetish.”
Johnny stares at Adrian for a long moment.
TANNER: “What?”
Johnny shakes his head and puts the prescription bottle back into the luggage bag and returns with a bar of recently used Irish Spring…
TANNER: “Now that’s just sick!”
Johnny smirks.
EVIL: “What’s even more sick is a man like Maddox Lucien. To quote Marquis, i believe it was her that said it best,,, It was something along the lines of, if you’re a grown ass man and you stink there’s no fuckin’ excuse for that. Well, Maddox has been stinking this place up since he arrived. I think it’s about time brodie washed his stinkin’ ass while he has all that down time.”
Johnny turns to Tanner…
EVIL: “Here, smell!”
He goes to stick it in front of Adrian Tanner’s face and as he does, Tanner takes a defensive step back and slaps it from his hand causing it to fly out into the audience. Johnny puts a frown on his face while Tanner looks disgusted. After a brief moment, they both laugh it off.
EVIL: “Don’t worry, you didn’t think I only packed the guy one bar of soap did you? With how much he’s been stinking this place up, there’s another one in the bag. He’s gonna’ need a good wash… That dirty mofo!”
Johnny looks around the around the arena for a moment before attempting to grab the last item from ‘Maddox Lucien’s Going Away Bag’. He begins reaching around and tussling his hands inside the luggage bag before retrieving a rope, with a perfectly tied noose at one end.
EVIL: “No ladies and gentlemen, this is not by any means a lasso. This right here is a noose, and it’s a perfect fit for Maddox, seeing as he was basically hanging himself by challenging Chris Madison in Japan.”
Tanner shakes his head in agreement.
TANNER: “I dunno if he’s gonna’ get the message though, Johnny? What exactly should Mr. Violence do with that?”
EVIL: “Well, after Maddox goes off and fucks himself, cries himself to sleep, hypes himself up on Randall Kash’s psych meds, and washes his dirty ass… he can simply go find the most sturdy branch in his yard somewhere and end his life much like he’s been ending his career for the past month…”
TANNER: “So, let’s get to the point Johnny, what exactly are we trying to say?”
EVIL: “What we’re saying is that it doesn’t really matter if Maddox Lucien’s last fight in 4CW is tonight. Either way you look at it, The Asshole Antagonist’s have to send him off properly and give him one final fuck you to take along on his journey with him… If Lucien thought that we were gonna’ show sympathy to his demands, fuck him. I’m Johnny Evil and I don’t show sympathy.”
TANNER: “I’m Adrian Tanner and I do show sympathy. Not to you, though Maddox. Never to you.”
EVIL: “This has been sponsored and endorsed by The Asshole Antagonists, your ass will be property of The Asshole Antagonist’s tonight… Not the way Bubba in state prison made your ass property, but I’m sure you get the point… Deuces!”
Johnny and Tanner both drop their microphone to the canvas as Evil shoves the rope back into the luggage bag and zips it up. He tosses it out of the ring as he and Tanner both exit through the middle rope. Retrieving the luggage back, Evil begins rolling it up the ramp as he and Adrian Tanner Jr. make their way backstage to get ready for their tag match later in the show…

The show drives on like a freighter on the tracks, breaking away from in-ring competition but for a few moments to where we see David Sanchez, now dressed in a black Famous Stars & Straps hooded sweater in addition to the combat shorts of black and purple he had worn for his match in the pre-show. Next to David stands Gabriel Hartman in a dapper suit with a buttercup-yellow tie and customary microphone in hand. He clears his throat as the camera pans to focus on the men and cut what looks to be nothing more than a simple backstage interview.
Sanchez flips his hood down, his brow still sweating a little from the triple threat earlier in the evening and some mild swelling present on his badly battle-torn complexion. Growing restless he tries to hurry things along, never having been one for much interaction with backstage personnel.

SANCHEZ: “Can we move this along please, some of us have lives outside of this place, and I don’t tend to stick around any longer than I’m being paid to.”
Looking a little frustrated to be spoken to in such an impolite manner by someone with one match in Four Corners Wrestling under his belt Gabriel lifts the microphone to his mouth but is silenced by a feminine finger as a redheaded woman walks into the camera shot, her body packed neatly into a grey dress-suit that hugs her curves in all of the right places. She keeps the finger over Hartman’s pursed lips for a few moments before gesturing with her other hand for the interviewer to leave the scene, an invite he jumps on – exiting stage left, his feelings already hurt enough for one day.
WOMAN: “Give this to your friend in the mask.”
David is left speechless, scanning the woman up and down in order to drink in a mental picture of what she might look like beneath that icy exterior and skirt that was unusually long for a woman in this profession. A card is placed into the middle pouch of his hooded top, and just like that, the woman makes to leave, David’s eyes watching her posterior every step of the way until she disappears around the same corner that Hartman had done.
He reaches into his pouch and draws out the business card left by this mysterious redhead, reading it aloud to himself as the camera fades to commercial.
SANCHEZ: “Vanessa Von Venicci… V3 Industries… Talent Relations.”


JOHNSON: ”Welcome back to ringside here on Adrenaline ladies and gentlemen live on Showtime and now we have a triple threat match lined up for you with three of the most fierce female competitors on the 4CW roster.”
VASSA: ”It’s going to be tiddies and asses all over the fucking place. I knew there was a good reason to show up for work this week in goddamn Iowa of all places.”
JOHNSON: ”What my partner means is that this is going to be one of the most hotly contested matches of the evening and it could have major title implications heading into Fright Night in just a few weeks.”
VASSA: ”All three of these ladies are hungry to prove themselves and a big win here tonight could put any one of them into a title picture very soon. This could be the match that steals the show tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”You really think this match could top what we’ve seen already tonight on Adrenaline Vinny?”
VASSA: ”Do people in Iowa use creamed corn as lube?”
JOHNSON: ”God…I would hope not.”
VASSA: ”Oh well… more for me.”
JOHNSON: ”TMI Vassa but let’s throw it down to Mike Powers who is ready to make the introductions for this match.”
Johnson shakes his head in disgust as the camera pans over to the ring where Mike Powers is standing in the center with his microphone in hand.
POWERS: ”The following match is a triple threat match and is scheduled for one fall to a finish!”
“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.
POWERS: ”Introducing first from Seattle, Washington weighing in tonight at one hundred and twenty-seven pounds. She is The Triggering Queen Lauryn Wolfe!!!!!”
“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. 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.
VASSA: ”Jesus I bet she’s a screamer in the sack with the way she comes out there and howls like that.”
JOHNSON: ”Lauryn Wolfe has practically run through the competition here since joining 4CW and came without a hair of becoming the Primetime Champion back at Ante Up when she took on then Champion Elijah Carlson.”
POWERS: “And her opponents…”
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.
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.
JOHNSON: ”If anyone could be considered Miss 4CW it’s Niobe Martin. One of the true originals that’s been in 4CW since day one. Niobe is no strange to Championship gold either being a multiple time Fate Champion.”
VASSA: ”Niobe isn’t as outspoken as some of the other ladies here on the roster but once that bell rings she’s all business inside of that squared circle. I have no doubt that Niobe is ready to bring it in this match tonight.”
POWERS: “And their opponent…”
A black and white video vignette begins rolling on the screens, showing Lyza Reyes dressed as Charlie Chaplin on the moon. There is no dialogue, but simply piano music playing with the pace of the footage. She’s caught in the middle of a tug of war match between a U.S. Spaceman, and a small group of miniature aliens. Before determining which side pulls Lyza once and for all, the venue goes pitch black, and “In Distress” by A$AP Rocky featuring Gesaffelstein begins to play.
“I’m something out this world, nothing like the rest
Nigga, win the fair game, fuck with the best
Just a kid with the grown men, rep to protect
Since it’s so rare so there’s a whole land left in distress.”

POWERS: “Originating from the coordinates of 40.7500° North, and 73.8667° West, it is none other than Lyza Reyes!”
Lyza Reyes walks down the aisle in her gear consisting of a black and gold sequined hoodie, black shorts, and black lace up boots. She tags a few hands of spectators along the way, before entering the ring. The music fades as she does a last second warm up.
JOHNSON: ”Lyza Reyes is who many people consider the #1 contender to the Fate Championship belt currently held by Persephone Marquis. However a win here tonight by either Lauryn Wolfe or Niobe Martin could really shake things up.”
VASSA: ”Here in 4CW you have to be on your A game every single week. I’m sure Queef would be down here to scout this match if she didn’t have to deal with Tara Davidson in our main event later tonight.”
Mike Powers exits the ring as the referee does a final check with each of the three ladies in this match. Once everyone is set and ready the referee calls for the bell to signal the start of this match.

The bell sounds as immediately both Niobe and Lauryn both race out of their corners and head towards Lyza who has no time to defend herself. Both ladies open up with punches and kicks in the corner to Lyza who tries to cover up as best as possible. Niobe grabs a hold of Lyza by the hair and pulls her up to her feet before shooting her off into the opposite corner spine first hard. Lauryn Wolfe takes off towards the corner as Lyza hits the turnbuckle spine first hard. Lauryn leaps into the air and hits Lyza with a double knees to the chest that drops her down to the canvas hard. Lauryn gets back up to her feet then races towards the corner and hits Lyza with a low dropkick to the face that knocks her flat. As Lauryn gets back up to her feet Niobe Martin sends her down to the canvas with a fireman’s carry takedown. Lauryn scrambles back up to her feet but Niobe grabs her and plants her with a spinning spinebuster down to the canvas hard.
JOHNSON: ”Lauryn and Niobe seemed to have formed some sort of temporary alliance to try and take out Lyza Reyes but that the moment Lauryn Wolfe took the advantage in this match Niobe was right there to enforce her will.”
VASSA: ”That’s the problem with triple threat matches. Lauryn hit Lyza early with the heartbreaker but that meant that she took her eyes off of Niobe who was just waiting for the right moment to strike with that spinebuster.”
Niobe gets back up to her feet then grabs a hold of Lauryn by the hair and drags her back up to a vertical base. Niobe rears back and hits Lauryn with an open hand slap right to the chest that echoes throughout the arena. Niobe grabs a hold of Lauryn by the arm and goes to whip her into the ropes but Lauryn reverses the whip and plants a boot to the midsection of Niobe. Before either woman can capitalize on the situation Lyza explodes out of the corner and hits both women with a running double clothesline that knocks them down to the canvas. Lauryn is the first back up to her feet but she eats a dropkick to the face from Lyza that knocks her right back down to the canvas. Lyza turns around and stalks around Niobe as she staggers back up to her feet. Lyza plants a boot to the midsection of Niobe before hitting her with a facebuster down to the canvas. Lyza gets back up to her feet then steps through the ropes and begins climbing the turnbuckle. Lyza perches herself on the top rope as Lauryn stumbles back up to her feet. As Lauryn turns around Lyza leaps off the top rope and hits Lauryn with DREAMBODYCATCHER down to the canvas. Lyza hooks the leg and makes the cover as the referee slides in for the count.

NO! Niobe dives in and breaks up the count before the three!
JOHNSON: ”It’s move like that DREAMBODYCATCHER by Lyza Reyes that makes people believe you just might be looking at the next 4CW Fate Champion. That move was absolutely a thing of beauty.”
VASSA: ”It was a good move but it wasn’t good enough to get the win. I told you Niobe wasn’t just going to roll over in this match and Lauryn Wolfe is no slouch either. Lyza is going to have to dig deep into her bag of tricks of she wants to walk away with the win tonight.”
Niobe gets back up to her feet then grabs a hold of Lyza. Niobe tosses Lyza over the top rope and down to the arena floor below. Lyza is slow to get up to her feet on the outside as Niobe gets a running start inside of the ring. Niobe dives through the ropes and hits Lyza with a suicide dive that sends Lyza crashing hard back down onto the arena floor. Slowly both Niobe and Lyza pull themselves up to their feet on the outside as Lauryn Wolfe has made her to the ring apron. With her back to both ladies Lauryn leaps up to the middle rope then springboard off and hits both Niobe and Lyza with an Asai moonsault onto the arena floor. Lauryn gets back up to her feet then grabs a hold of Niobe and slides her back into the ring. Lauryn slides back into the ring then makes her way over towards the corner. Lauryn climbs to the middle rope as Niobe struggles to get back up to a vertical base. As Niobe turns around Lauryn leaps off the middle rope and hits Niobe with a forearm smash to the face that knocks her back down to the canvas. Lauryn gets up her feet and lets out a loud howl as she begins to pace back and forth in the corner and slapping her right leg.
JOHNSON: ”High flying move by both Niobe Martin and Lauryn Wolfe but I think Lauryn is signaling for Progression here and if she hits it this one could be over.”
VASSA: ”A boot right to the teeth? Yeah I don’t care who you are that’s lights out for sure. And most importantly Lyza is still down on the outside of the ring.”
Niobe pulls herself back up to her feet as Lauryn charges out of the corner. Lauryn spins and goes for the big discus boot to the face but Niobe ducks under it. As Lauryn turns back around Niobe plants a boot to the midsection and hits Lauryn with a DDT that spikes her down to the canvas. Niobe gets back up to her feet then grabs a hold of Lauryn and drags her back up to a vertical base. Niobe hits Lauryn with a chop to the chest then whips her into the ropes. As Lauryn rebounds off the ropes Niobe gets her and hits her with a tilt to whirl backbreaker that sends her crumbling down to the canvas hard. Niobe grabs a hold of Lauryn be the arm and drags her over towards the corner. Niobe turns her back to Lauryn and heads towards the turnbuckle as the crowd begins to stand on their feet. Niobe grabs a hold of the top rope with both hands before leaping up in one fluid motion. Niobe does a full split on the top turnbuckle and then springs off and connects with Torment down across the prone Lauryn Wolfe. Niobe hooks the leg and makes the cover on Lauryn as the referee slides in for the count.

Lyza reaches into the ring and pulls Niobe to the outside as the last split second!
JOHNSON: ”Vicious split legged moonsault by Niobe Martin and this one should be over but Lyna sprang to life at the last second and has dragged Niobe to the outside of the ring!”
VASSA: ”It was close but no cigar for Niobe there. It might have been a good idea to drag Lauryn back to the center of the ring after that move but now she’s got her hands for with a rested and recovered Lyza Reyes.”
Lyza gives Niobe a boot to the midsection on the outside of the ring then grabs a hold of her and hits her with a side Russian Leg Sweep into the steel barricade. The back of Niobe’s head bounces off the steel with a sickening thud as Lyza gets back up to her feet. Lyza climbs up to the ring apron but Lauryn Wolfe is back on her feet and grabs a hold of Lyza by the hair. However Lyza quickly grabs a hold of Lauryn by the back of the head and drops down off of the ring apron hitting her with a stunner across the top rope. Lauryn hits the canvas holding her throat in pain as Lyza reaches into the ring and grabs a hold of Lauryn by the leg and begins pull her towards the corner. Lyza wraps Lauryn’s legs around the steel ring post and slaps on a figure four leg lock. Lyza hangs upside and applies as much pressure as he can as Lauryn screams in pain. However with Lyza in a vulnerable position as gives Niobe a chance to get back up to feet and hit Lyza with a running dropkick to the side of the head that causes her to release her hold on Lauryn.
JOHNSON: ”Sweet lord Lyza just landed awkwardly on the side of her neck after that running dropkick from Niobe Martin!”
VASSA: ”Not to mention that figure four around the steel ring post has done some serious damage to the leg and knee of Lauryn Wolfe inside of the ring.”
Niobe grabs a hold of Lyza rolls her back into the ring as Lauryn scoots away from the corner. Niobe pulls herself up to the ring apron and wait as Lyza struggles to regain a vertical base. As Lyza turns around Niobe springboards up to top rope then leaps off and hits Lyza with a springboard clothesline that sends her down to the canvas. Lauryn Wolfe gets back up to her feet then hobbles around on one leg but Niobe grabs a hold of her. Niobe lifts Lauryn high into the air and plants her with a brainbuster down to the canvas. Niobe gets back up to her feet then begins climbing the turnbuckle. Niobe perches herself on the top rope then leaps off and goes for Phantasm Horror but Lyza rolls out of the way at the last second causing Niobe to crash and burn down to the canvas hard. Lyza gets back up to her feet then grabs a hold of Niobe and tosses her over top rope and down to the arena floor below. As Lyza turns around she wants into the discus boot right to the face from Lauryn Wolfe.
JOHNSON: ”Progression right to the face of Lyza Reyes!”
VASSA: ”And she’s not done yet.”
Lyza goes to crumble down the canvas but Lauryn catches her, gets her into the position and then nails her with Fiery Impulse down to the canvas hard. Lauryn Wolfe hooks the leg and makes the cover on Lyza as the referee slides in for the count.


POWERS: ”Here is your winner… LAURYN WOLFEEEE!!!!!!”
JOHNSON: ”What an impressive win by Lauryn Wolfe here tonight and let’s not forget she just pinned whom many consider the #1 contender for the Fate Championship belt in Lyza Reyes.”
VASSA: ”This win didn’t come easy because Niobe gave it everything she had but tonight Lauryn Wolfe was just too strong. If I was Persephone Marquis I would be gripping onto that Fate Championship belt a little bit tighter tonight.”

Johnny Evil has his gym bag hoist over his shoulder in his street clothes as the police are filing reports and taking statements due to the tragedy earlier in the night. It seems as if Evil is just about to be on his way out of the arena as he’s standing out in the hallway by his locker room door, when you hear a faint singing getting louder and more distinct along with the clicking of boots skipping up the hall…
”We don’t need no education… We don’t need no thought control…
No dark sarcasm in the classroom… Teachers leave them kids alone
…Hey teacher leave them kids alone…”

Johnny looks up to notice Sativa coming up the hall with a grin from ear to ear. At the point where Sativa notices Johnny Evil, her smirk turns to a from and she instantly stops skipping as she gets next to him…
NEVAEH: ”Well, if it isn’t Mr. Super Hero himself, hashtag Herolike… Johnny not so Evil. Say, uhhh… you murdered that guy tonight.. You’re a murderer aren’t ya??”
Johnny eyes the bizarre neo-nazi down for a moment trying to make sense of her. Don’t worry you won’t… Sativa Nevaeh is one of life’s many mysteries.
EVIL: ”Well, if it isn’t porcelain doll face, ever so creepy, undead hooker Sativa. I’m not allowed to discuss this. It’s being investigated. Thank god for Perry Wallace snitchin’ on drug dealers and gang members world-wide. They wanted to arrest me, but no sir… Contract states any fatal accident holds nobody accountable. Plus, Maddox was drugged up. You couldn’t tell, he was foaming outta’ the mouth and shit!”
At first Sativa smirks and gives a big wing, and then Sativa’s frown draws grows deeper until just like a bi-polar person toggling their emotions she suddenly grows a huge smile once more.
NEVAEH: ”Looks to me like you’re going somewhere? I bet you’re off to feed Perry Wallace ‘just the tip’, aren’t ya’… “
Johnny smirks this one off, shaking his head.
EVIL: ”Actually I’m not. I’m on my way to a black lives matter convention down the street.”
Taking the comment serious, Sativa gets offended… given her past history and all. Sativa snaps back talking in a weirdly fast pace.
NEVAEH: ”Oh, well ain’t that just grand. Sounds like a good ol’ fucking time? If your name was Tyrone or J’Kwan, I guess?? Amirite???”
EVIL: ”Actually, I keed… I’m not going to a black lives matter rally. I’m just getting the hell outta’ dodge.”
Sativa looks annoyed at this point…
NEVAEH: ”So you’re not gonna’ stay and watch me beat GayPDee for the XTV Championship?”
EVIL: ”No, why in the hell would I do that??”
NEVAEH: ”For sending me a shit link on Twitter…”
Johnny looks around acting confused, though the whole world knows that’s exactly what it was… an act
EVIL: ”Umm… what link was that?”
NEVAEH: ”You know,!”
Johnny looks around embarrassed…
EVIL: ”Oh, that shit post… literally (Johnny chuckles it off for a moment) What, I thought that was right up your alley?”
NEVAEH: ”No, not at all. What is right up my alley is killing super hero types named Johnny Evil by stabbing them in the neck with a knife… over… and… over!”
At this point you can tell the conversation that Sativa and Evil had been having as much as it may have sounded like a joke, both were throwing jabs and hostility was brewing…
EVIL: ”Oh, is that so??”
As there is an awkward silence, Johnny’s locker room door opens and Mama Evil comes out holding baby Rhiannon. Sativa peeks over to see Johnny’s daughter wrapped comfortably in a baby blanket. Mama Evil looks at Sativa with an awkward stare.
MAMA EVIL: ”Well, hello… nice to meet you.”
Mama Evil shoots a stare at Johnny as if to say who is this crazy looking bitch…
EVIL: ”Mom, this is Sativa… she’s the crazy lookin’ beotch in Four Cor—”
Before Johnny can finish, Sativa reaches over with a huge smile and starts tickling Rhiannon on the cheek. She does this in a rough manner, though it is not intentional.
NEVAEH: ”Oh, look at you… aren’t you just the pretty little princess. Why, if I had a fork a steak knife and a bowl I could just eat you all up!”
Johnny pushes Sativa’s hand back from baby Rhiannon at this moment with a very concerned look on his face…
EVIL: ”Fuck that, you are not Dakota Smithing my daughter!!”
Sativa shoots a weird look back in Johnny’s direction before slowly putting her hand back to her side, looking almost sad at this moment. Kind of like the look she would give if someone stole her pet rodent…
NEVAEH: ”Relax, I wouldn’t really eat your daughter… or would I??”
At this point Evil doesn’t know what to say so he ends the conversation quickly…
EVIL: ”Okay… well on that creepy note, gooootta go!”
Johnny and Mama Evil walk past Sativa as she watches them walk away. After a moment, she cracks a smirk of wicked intentions before shrugging it off and continuing to skip through the hall once more…
”We don’t need no education… We don’t need no thought control…”
No dark sarcasm in the classroom…”

The video package rolls showing the Humblest Man in Wrestling. Simply Gorgeous Adrian Humble adjusting his tie, keeping perfection to a tee. He spins to the Camera.
HUMBLE: “My name is Adrian Humble and your eyes are now being delighted by looking at God’s gift to you all. Soon you will be seeing a lot of me around Four Dub as I quickly climb to the top of the company, toss it on my sculpted shoulders and carry it with me as I head to the White House and become not just the Champion of Four Dubya, but also the Prettiest President Ever!!”
Adrian pauses allowing the words to sink into the masses through their dullard fog.
HUMBLE: “Now I am not just here to give your eyes a Gorgeous-gasm. I am here to make my first declaration. There is only one Adrian Humble and therefore there can only be one Adrian….Adrian Adonis crashed his car he was so sad that he knew soon I would be born and he would be passe. Adrian Street is changing his first name to Dead End to signify his career. Yo Adrian is dead after one too many rounds with Punch Drunk Balboa. Everyone with the name Adrian needs to start changing their names out of honor for me. So that leaves me with you, Adrian Tanner”
Humble scoffs at the idea of the desert troll.
Humble: “The so-called Arizona Assassin. If I lived in Arizona, the only assassination I would be plotting would be my own. From this moment forward you will be called Danny Tanner and you will come out to the Full House Theme Song. Because it amuses me and when a Gorgeous Person speaks, the Ugly should listen”
Adrian smirks, brushing the hair back from his face
HUMBLE: “My name is Adrian Humble, and I approve this message”

The camera cuts to the backstage area, to be more specific inside one of the locker rooms, and the locker room in question belonged to the current reigning 4CW Tag Team champions. The married couple of Jason P. Davidson and his wife Tara. The locker room appears to be empty as the camera pans slowly around the inside of the room taking in the sight of the leather couch pushed up against one wall and the scattered items across the coffee table. On the floor besides the couch are two separate bags no doubt belonging to our Tag Team champions. It is made quite obvious by the two golden championship belts which are laid across each bag almost as if they are on full display.
There is a small almost grunting kind of noise which can be heard coming from one corner of the room capturing the attention of the camera man who had been focused on the championship belts. The camera shifts the focus over towards the direction of where the sound is coming from and comes to a sudden stop when it focuses upon the sight of Tara Davidson.
Her back is turned to the camera as she appears to be in the process of doing some warm up exercises in preparation for her main event match tonight against Persephone Marquis. She is already dressed in her ring gear which consists of an extremely short pair of shorts revealing a nice view of her ample backside as she moves around in slow motions giving the camera a long good look at her body. The camera man can’t resist zooming in on her ass knowing that it is has been the subject of much attention on Twitter.
They don’t call it the best ass in the company for nothing.
T. DAVIDSON: “I want to thank you Persephone, a name I’m sure you don’t hear quite often since most everyone calls you Marqueef, but I think we should be on a first name basis considering how much quasi-flirting we’ve been doing on Twitter. Although that’s not why I’m thanking you right now.”
There is a brief pause for a moment as Tara slowly stretches both arms above her head and takes the time to arch further putting her shapely backside as the main focus of the camera.
T. DAVIDSON: “What I am thanking you for is giving me a sharp reminder of what my goals used to be in my career. Something which I seem to have forgotten because the truth of the matter is that I do very much enjoy teaming with my husband inside of the ring. I don’t care if some people view that as a weakness or like I’m wasting my time out of fear that I’m unable to make a real name for myself without having my husband by my side. Trust me when I say that I have heard all of the bullshit which can be thrown in my direction in an effort to make me feel like lesser of a competitor when compared to Jason P. Davidson.”
Tara breathes out a deep sigh as she lowers her arms and turns herself back around so that she can face the camera for the first time since it has come inside of her locker room. Her chest is heaving up and down in a significant manner as she reaches up with two fingers to push a few loose strands of hair out from where it has fallen in front of her face.
T. DAVIDSON: “The only thing I have never heard has been someone asking me when I was going to step forward and finally take what was rightfully mine. A chance in the spotlight like I deserve. At least not until Persephone Marquis.”
There is another brief pause as Tara makes her way over towards the coffee table and bends over in a slight manner once again putting her rear end as the main focus as she picks up one of the water bottles which had been placed on the coffee table amongst the other scattered belongings. A small amused smile begins to form at the corners of her mouth as she removes the cap from the bottle of water.
T. DAVIDSON: “I suppose that’s sweet in a way, not that I expect her to really give a damn about me or my career, the only thing she cares about is getting her hands on my ass tonight. It was the first thing out of her mouth after this match was announced after all, so I’m going to deliver on what she’s been dreaming about, I can’t blame the woman to be honest. If I had to spend the better part of my time taking dick from someone who looks like Jason Cashe, I’d want to finally grope on something appealing to the eyes, so this is going to be like Disneyland for her tonight. Disneyland with tits.”
Tara winks for the benefit of the camera and perhaps even more for Persephone Marquis. She brings the bottle of water up to her mouth and takes a long drink of water before she places the bottle back on the surface of the coffee table. Her focus remains the same as she places both of her hands on her hips and begins to pace back and forth in a slow manner.
T. DAVIDSON: “One night is all we need sometimes, right? Although this is about more than the chance to grope on the ass she’s been lusting after. I know she takes herself extremely seriously inside of that ring and I take myself just as seriously. Especially when I’m booked in singles competition. It might have been her greatest mistake to awaken something inside of myself that even I believed was long dead and gone. I’d grown quite attached to playing the role of the dutiful wife that it seems to have clouded my judgement as far as Tara Davidson, the competitor, is concerned.”
Her pacing comes to a sudden stop as she lowers her eyes towards the floor and gently starts to rub the palm of one hand up against the back of her neck.
T. DAVIDSON: “Tonight things are going to be different and I owe it all to you Persephone. So enjoy all the time you’re going to get with this ass, because you’ve certainly earned it, haven’t you?”
Tara brings her hand down towards her backside and gives one cheek a playful smack as a giggle slips out from between her lips. She turns around giving the camera man one last look at her behind as it sways back and forth while she moves further inside of the locker room before the camera cuts out as the scene comes to a close.


“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.
VASSA: ”Okay, so am I going to be the only one to address the situation?”
JOHNSON: ”What situation?”
VASSA: ”The fact that Bryan Williams may be great in tag team action, but he’s not great at keeping tag team partners? First his former partner betrayed him because Perry Wallace told him to and at Bad Company, Cashe hit him with the Mark Of Jason!”
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 current and two time 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.
JOHNSON: ”I’ll tell you, this match should be good. Williams has a lot to prove after what Cashe did to him and Hopkins needs momentum, because the winner at Fright Night will be gunning for his 4CW Championship!”
VASSA: ”That’s if Dakota Smith doesn’t get around to taking it off of his hands first.

The match starts and both Hopkins and Williams come out exchanging blows. Hopkins fires a right hand, staggering Jair Hopkins a bit, but Hopkins fires a left on the rebound. They trade a second round of blows, at this point Hopkins attempts a clothesline. Williams ducks the clothesline and springs off of the ropes. He rushes forward and delivers a dropkick to Jair Hopkins knee, dropping him to a kneeling position. With Williams starting to take the driver’s seat, he hops into the air and plants both feet into Hopkins chest knocking him to the mat. As Hopkins rolls onto his back, Williams is waiting and drops o top of him, drilling an elbow into his chest. Williams keeps momentum by pulling Jair Hopkins to his feet as he comes to a stand. He whips Hopkins into the corner, but Hopkin’s reaches out and plants his hands onto the ropes to stop the collision. As Williams charges up behind him, Jair sends an elbow backwards, catching Williams in the chin, causing him to stagger back a bit.
JOHNSON: ”We’re off to some fast paces action to start this match off. I hope Williams doesn’t let bitter emotions get the best of him. He’s fighting the Champion!”
VASSA: ”If he does so what… It’s better to be pissed off then pissed on. You know the expression.”
JOHNSON: ”Not even going to comment on that one!”
Hopkins runs forward and jumps into the air while Bryan Williams is staggered wrapping him up and planting him head first with a jumping DDT. J Hop stands to his feet and runs into the ropes rebounding as Williams climbs to both knees. As Hopkins returns in Bryan Williams direction he hits him with a boot to the face, knocking him back to the mat. Williams rolls onto his back and keeping a chain of moves going, Hopkins leaps into the air for a leg drop across Williams throat. Bryan scouts the move and rolls out of the way at the last second, causing Jair to land on the canvas in seated position. Williams rolls to his feet as Jair Hopkins shakes the impact off while standing up. Hopkins not wanting to give up momentum rushes forward to attack Bryan Williams, only to have Williams duck and send him over the top rope with a back body drop. Due to great ring awareness, J Hop grabs onto the ropes and spins himself landing on the apron. As Williams spins in his direction, he gets nailed in the face by an elbow from Hopkins.
VASSA: ”Elbow to the face!! Williams has come here to brawl a bit tonight!!”
JOHNSON: ”I’ll tell you, that was great ring awareness from Bryan Williams landing on the apron like that!”
Jair grips Bryan Williams head and locks him in a suplex position trying to give him a suplex over the ropes and to the floor. Williams does his best to hold his weight and kicks downward landing back onto his feet before lifting Hopkins for a suplex of his own. He sends J Hop over the ropes for the suplex, but as Jair goes over Williams head, he spins enough to drop down behind Williams and lock him in waist lock from behind. Jair lifts Williams and sends him backward with a German suplex, bridging his shoulders off the mat trying to get the pin-fall.

VASSA: ”I wonder if Hopkins really thought he could end this match that quick?”
JOHNSON: ”I don’t think he thought that. He knows that Williams won’t go down without a fight!”
Following the kick out, Hopkins rolls onto his stomach as Williams reaches down and grabs him by the arm, pulling him to standing position. Bryan Williams delivers a kick into J Hops ribs and then attempts to toss him into the corner once more, this time Hopkins collides with the turnbuckle back first and bounces out like a pool ball forcefully hitting the corner pocket. Williams runs forward and delivers a clothesline, causing Hopkins to flip in air and land on the mat stomach first. With the momentum in Bryan Williams corner he reaches down to lift Jair to his feet and as he stands him up, Williams goes for a roaring elbow. Hopkins pushes it off with both hands and gives Williams a boot to the stomach before grabbing Williams by the wrist and whipping him over the ropes and out to the ringside area.
JOHNSON: ”Williams is outside the ring, it could get brutal if these two hit no mans land!”
VASSA: ”Of course it could, and I’ll love every minute of it!!”

While Bryan Williams comes to a stand outside the ring, J Hop grips the ropes with both hands and vaults himself into the air landing on Williams with a cross-body block causing both men to hit the barricade hard. The official tries giving some leniency by not starting the count out right away. As both men crawl around on the floor, they get to standing position at the same time. Hopkins throws a right but Williams ducks under it, gripping at Jair’s legs and lifting him into the air hitting a wheelbarrow lungblower. At this point the official begins to count while both men are winded.

“One! … Two!”

VASSA: ”Wheelbarrow Lungblower!! Let’s hope Hopkins lungs can handle that!!”
JOHNSON: ”If it was Jason Cashe, probably not. I have a feeling Jair Hopkins will be fine though, maybe a bit sore, but fine none the less.
Williams stands up and lifts J Hop to his feet, tossing him back first against the barricade, causing him to collide and stagger forward. Williams uses this time to fire a super-kick. The kick is ducked under by Hopkins, allowing him to grip Bryan Williams and plant him onto the arena floor with a falling reverse DDT. Jair comes to a knee and takes a quick breather while Williams rolls onto his stomach holding his back in pain.
JOHNSON: ”I’ll tell you, getting hit with moves like that outside on the arena floor takes a toll on the body!”
VASSA: ”Thank you, Captain Obvious!!”
JOHNSON: ”Just call the damned match and get that cigar smoke out of my face!”
“Three! … Four!”

Hopkins grabs Williams by the hair and tosses him against the apron, giving him a back-hand chop to the chest before rolling him back into the ring through the bottom rope. Jair climbs onto the ring apron as Williams crawls to the ropes using them to climb to his feet. As Williams stands, Jair fires a right hand from the ring apron, which is blocked by Williams. Taking a couple steps back Williams rushes forward, kneeing Hopkins in the ribs before grabbing at him and flipping over the ropes, drilling him onto the ringside floor with a sunset-flip powerbomb. This also starts a fresh ten count.
VASSA: ”Brutal Sunset Flip Powerbomb!!”
JOHNSON: ”Bryan Williams was aiming for the highlight reel with that one!!”
VASSA: ”That’s how we do, baby!!”
“One! … Two! … Three!”

Williams stands and wipes the sweat from his brow before reaching down and grabbing Jair under his arm. He pulls J Hop to his feet and reaches out for a scoop slam. The move is overpowering enough to allow Jair to land on his feet behind Williams. He locks Bryan Williams in a t-bone suplex sending Williams flying behind him onto the floor.
JOHNSON: ”Both men better keep in mind of that infamous ten count. I’m sure neither of them wants a win via count out!”
VASSA: ”Hey, a win is a win in my book!”
“Four! … Five!”

Jair climbs to his feet exhausting and lifts Williams up, rolling him back into the ring before making a slow exhausted roll back into the ring himself. He rolls Williams onto his back and reaches out his arm for a pin. This allows Bryan Williams who was playing coy to grab Jair’s arm and attempt to lock in a Kimura Lock. Hopkins starts swinging his arm in an attempt to fight it off, but being tired enough, Williams locks the hold in. The official drops down to check on Jair Hopkins as he continues a struggle to break out.
VASSA: ”Sneaky Sneaky… Bryan Williams playing possum and locking in a Kimura!!”
JOHNSON: ”Williams is working on getting that thing in tight too!!”
Using his free arm, Jair reaches for the ropes, almost able to grip them and break the hold. Williams begins slipping on the hold as Jair lets out a yell of pain. After a second attempt at grabbing the ropes, Hopkins focuses on reaching his other arm in so he can break the hold. With a bit of body movement, Hopkins gets into a good enough position to rain a few shots at Williams ribs, causing him to completely break the hold.
JOHNSON: ”The hold is broken and the match continues!!”
While both men roll around in pain, they use the ropes as a crutch to stand. Getting up at about the same time, Hopkins spins around and makes his move toward Bryan Williams. Williams is quick enough to fire an unexpected superkick directly against Jair’s chin, causing him to hit the mat back first. Williams drops down directly onto Jair Hopkins and hooks the leg for a pin.

VASSA: ”Near fall off the superkick!”
JOHNSON: ”Both men extremely exhausted from the back and forth and the brutal fight outside the ring!!
Williams is in shock and after a short breather, he climbs to his feet and grabs Jair by the wrist pulling him to his feet. Williams delivers a knee into J Hop’s ribs, followed by another one, before crouching him forward. He locks Hopkins into a suplex position and lifts him up in a set-up for the CTE. Half way up Jair Hopkins kicks and plants his feet, holding his weight and in one quick motion lifts Bryan and spins him hitting The Bread N’ Butter and landing into a pin-fall.

JOHNSON: ”The Bread N Butter… Still not enough to keep Bryan Williams down!!”
VASSA: ”I think Jair is in shock. He had a great counter off the CTE and couldn’t seal the deal!!”
Hopkins places his hands on the mat and pulls himself to an exhausted stand as Williams rolls around on the mat in pain. Hopkins looks at Williams and lines him up before rushing forward and hopping onto the top rope with a spring-board. Jair comes off with a moonsault, looking for his OMFG! Williams rolls out of harm’s way at the last second. As Hopkins lands on his feet, Williams reaches out and attempts a roll-up pin. Before he can lock it up, Hopkins does a back roll and rushes forward hitting a knee to Williams face while Williams is in the seated position. With Bryan Williams back on the mat, Jair Hopkins rushes forward again with a second attempt at the OMFG! and this time he delivers, connecting both boots to Williams stomach after the springboard moonsault. Hopkins stumbles back and then falls forward, landing on Williams and hooking the leg.

JOHNSON: “Hopkins wins it ladies and gentlemen!”
VASSA: “After winning due to a count out last time, Hopkins scores the win over Bryan with a pinfall here tonight.”
Standing to his feet, Jair walks to the edge of the ring and grabs the 4CW Championship, holding it high above his head. Stepping in beside him, the official then raises his arm into the air as the bell tolls.

POWERS: “Here is your winner… JAIR HHOOPPKKIINNSS!!!”
Pulling his arm away from the official, Hopkins dips through the ropes and drops down to the floor below, leaving Williams and the ring behind him as he makes his way up the ramp.

Pills always eventually ran out. That was the problem with them and was why Eli found himself laid out on the trainers table. He’d pushed himself through his match with Cashe, though finding Maddox Lucien in the rafters, and through commentating his wife’s match alongside his friend JPD on the power of a few pills and a couple of shots. Those effects had worn off, leaving him no other choice but to go and be tended to by the medical personnel and trainers in backstage. With his shirt off the bruises that had never fully gone away were as black, blue and purple as they had ever been. The world knew he had injured ribs and yet he had kept pushing himself and pushing himself. He’d keep pushing himself too until he simply couldn’t go any longer.
DOCTOR: ”You really need to take it easy, son. I know, Perry gave us the word to clear you no matter what but for your own sake you need to take a show off. Everyone does it. Why shouldn’t you? Isn’t that one of the benefits of being one of his minions?”
Eli scoffed at the notion otf not competing. What the hell else was he going to do with himself? He sure as shit wasn’t going to end up like Kat Jones or Maddox Lucien, crying into his cereal about how life was unfair. Besides, there was too much at stake to just take a week off.
CARLSON: ”I’m not going to take a show, a week or even a day off so you can take that shit and shove it. You know what happens to people who have agreed to work for Perry and then fail to hold up their end of the bargain? Yeah, of course you do. You’ve seen what has happened to Erron Wilder and really the rest of Omerta. I’m not going to be like them. That’s not what is meant for me, do you understand that? I’m destined to be the one to knock Madison off his high fucking horse. Just like I’m destined to be the one standing tall at the end of the rumored War Zone match at Fright Night.”
The doctor shook his head and pressed gently on his ribs, which caused Eli to pull away from the doctor and glare at him angrily.
CARLSON: ”I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors too. Sixteen competitors trying to outlast one another and the final one remaining gets a shot at Hopkins at Winter Wasteland. These are the types of matches that make, or break, careers. The person who wins is remembered forever in history as someone who overcame the worst possible odds. Regardless of what happens throughout the rest of their career, that one, single moment will be remembered throughout time. Imagine the momentum that I’m going to have when I win that match. Imagine the legacy, already starting to be formed, that will begin to be solidified with that victory. In the end it’ll just be another notch on my belt but in the moment it will be the greatest accomplishment in my career. It will be what puts Frankie Morrison in a position where he can’t help agree that I have earned my fight against Madison. It will be what puts my name in the conversation with men like Dakota Smith and Jair Hopkins and the other great names that have held the 4CW Championship.”
Realizing that he was arguing with what was essentially a brick wall, the doctor simply shrugged and when about taping up Eli’s ribs once more.
CARLSON: ”This is the stuff that legends are made of, doc. And I want to be a legend. I want it more than I’ve wanted anything else in my entire life. I can’t, and won’t, let something as petty as my ribs being a bit banged up keep me from achieving that dream. At Fright Night, I don’t care who I have to go through and what I have to do to get there, but I will be walking out as the victor of the War Zone.
All the doctor could do was nod his head and continue about his task while Eli closed his eyes and dreamed of the greatness he believed he was destined to achieve.

We cut back to ringside where Perry Wallace and Kaysie Sherell stand side by side in the center of the ring. With mics in their hands, the two overlook the Des Moines crowd before Kaysie slowly raises the mic and cuts through the sounds of the crowd.
SHERELL: “Tonight is a first for 4CW action right here in Iowa. You can thank us for that, really, you can. We still have a few matches left on the card tonight but wanted to personally come out here and greet each and every single one of you. As you all know, Fright Night is just over a month away and with that, we have the Warzone, a match that you all are just dying to see. No two Warzone’s have ever been the same, and this year we continue that!”
Turning to her left, Kaysie winks at Perry with a smirk on her face before looking back to the crowd.
SHERELL: “As much as I would love to tell you all about the details of this years Warzone, I’m going to give my Perr-Bear the floor. He’s been rather excited leading up to tonight and this announcement for the third annual Fright Night.”
Lowering the mic, Kaysie looks to Perry before giving him a nod as she places her hand upon his shoulder. Looking over the entire crowd, a smile comes to Perry’s face as he slowly raises the mic to his lips.
WALLACE: “For two solid years we have presented Fright Night to you in October, just days before Halloween. As we approach our third full year in business, our third Fright Night awaits us all. There’s one match in particular that really excites me when it comes to Fright Night and that’s the Warzone. The first one involved eight people with the 4CW Championship on the line and the only way to win it was to make someone inside of the cage give up. The second one involved a cage full of weapons with the XTV Championship changing hands multiple times until the 4CW Championship was reached high above the cage hanging just over a ladder.”
Taking a step forward, Perry raises his other arm, balling his fist as he speaks once more.
WALLACE: “This year for the third Warzone, we won’t see the 4CW Championship involved any whatsoever. Instead, the winner will receive a shot at the 4CW Championship at Winter Wasteland. As you all know, Jair Hopkins will be defending the 4CW Championship at Fright Night in the main event against The Butcher himself, Dakota Smith! Now the details of how the Warzone will take place are still up in the air, at least when it comes to what happens inside of that cage and those two rings. Sixteen people will get the opportunity to compete in this years monstrous event but only two people will walk away with something in their hands.”
Stepping in behind Perry, Kaysie places her hand on Perry’s shoulder again, grabbing his attention as he turns around to face her.
SHERELL: “Wait a second… two people?”
WALLACE: “Two people indeed.”
Turning back to face the crowd, Perry walks towards the edge of the ring, stopping at the ropes.
WALLACE: “Not only will a contract that guarantees a 4CW Championship match be on the line, but the XTV Championship will once again find its way into the madness!”
SHERELL: “But we have an XTV Championship match coming up next. Who will get their chance to step into the Warzone?”
Turning around to face Kaysie, Perry stares across the ring at her before shrugging his shoulders.
WALLACE: “Don’t even act like you don’t already know the answer to that question.”
The two then share a laugh as Perry slowly makes his way back to the center of the ring at Kaysie’s side.
WALLACE: “With sixteen people being given the opportunity, there are a lot of people who will have the chance to enter this huge match. Adding the XTV Championship again seems only fitting given the nature of this match at Fright Night.”
SHERELL: “It’s going to be one hell of a match, that’s for sure. But without giving out too many details, let’s announce some other matches for Fright Night. I hear Chris Madison is looking for a challenger, someone who can finally put him in his place and cut the cord holding him and 4CW together.”
WALLACE: “I saw that he recently signed somewhere. As much as I would like to talk shit, unfortunately I can’t. That was a good decision on his part, about the only smart decision he could make after leaving all that money on the table. But all good things must come to an end and goddamnit, we’re going to see that happen one way or another.”
SHERELL: “It isn’t going to be an easy task, but we may have just the right person for the job.”
WALLACE: “I think you meant people?”
SHERELL: “We’ll just have to wait and see!”
Lowering their mics, the two talk softly amongst themselves before turning back to the crowd.
WALLACE: “Tell us a little about this other match we have planned.”
SHERELL: “You mean the one with the Fate Championship?”
WALLACE: “Yeah, that one.”
SHERELL: “If you insist. At Fright Night we will also see Persephone Marquis defend the 4CW Fate Championship against Lyza Reyes!”
WALLACE: “Fright Night is shaping up to be an exciting night if I must say.”
SHERELL: “Almost as exciting as last years?”
WALLACE: “That’s up for the people actually competing to decide. But enough of this, let’s get out of here. We’ve given them enough of a preview for what awaits them next month in Louisiana.”
SHERELL: “After you…”
Lowering their mics to their sides, the two proceed towards the ropes as the scene cuts backstage.

The camera heads backstage where Gabriel Hartman is seen standing near the gorilla position. He has a microphone in hand. Gabriel waits patiently until he is given the signal before he raises the microphone up to his lips and begins speaking.
HARTMAN: ”Ladies and gentlemen please welcome at this time the reigning, defending, undisputed 4CW World Tag Team Champion and the current 4CW XTV Champion Jason P. Davidson.
The camera pans back to show Jason P. Davidson standing beside Gabriel. Jason has his 4CW World Tag Team Championship belt wrapped around his waist and his 4CW XTV Championship belt proudly displayed over his shoulder. Gabriel raises the microphone up into the air as Jason begins singing.
J. DAVIDSON: ”GLORIOUS! No, I won’t give in. I won’t give in til’ I’m victorious and I will defend! I will defend!”
Gabriel goes to lower his microphone to speak but Jason continues.
J. DAVIDSON: ”GLORIOUS! No, I won’t give in. I won’t in til’ I’m victorious and I will defend! I will defend!”
Gabriel nods his head and goes to speak but Jason snatches the microphone from him.
J. DAVIDSON: ”Then I’ll do what I must! No, I won’t give in, I won’t give in. Oh so Glorious until the end, until the end! Hi Queef…hope you enjoy your entrance this week!”
Jason waves towards the camera as Gabriel snatches the microphone away from him.
HARTMAN: ”Speaking of defending last Adrenaline you and your wife Tara successfully defended the 4CW World Tag Team Championship belts not once. Not twice, by three different times becoming the winners of Bad Company II. You won $100,000 and became the first team in the history of 4CW to walk into the tournament as Champions as walk out the very same way.”
J. DAVIDSON: ”This is the part where I tell you I told you so. This is the part where each and everyone single one of you motherfuckers that picked against us. That thought Sativa and Daniels were going to win. That thought Eli and Genie were going to take our titles away from us. That predicted that there was no way in hell that Ascended Supremacy could beat the team of Jason Cashe and Bryan Williams. This is the point where you stare at this beautiful Championship belt around my waist and you hate your miserable existence. I told each of you that I had one mission and that was to make Ascended Supremacy the greatest tag team that ever lived in this business. Just look here…right here above my dick. Mission fucking accomplished.”
HARTMAN: ”And tonight will mark your fifth title defense in three shows as you defend the 4CW XTV Championship belt against Sativa Nevaeh in a few moments. But I just have to ask, aren’t you exhausted?”
J. DAVIDSON: ”I’m extremely exhausted but do you think that honestly matters? Do you think I didn’t expect then when I decided to enter myself into the Xtreme Roulette at Ante Up? I’m the only double Champion here in 4CW. Regardless of whether people like to admit it or not but I am the man. Which is why tired or not, exhausted or not, and half fucking dead or not I’m going out there to defend this XTV Championship belt against Sativa Nevaeh because that’s what the fuck I do.”
HARTMAN: ”Sativa is by far your toughest challenge to date. Are you worried that tonight will be the end of your reign as the XTV Champion?”
J. DAVIDSON: ”This is last Adrenaline all over again Gabriel. Everyone is all high up on Sativa because oh my God it’s Sativa. She once did that thing with that person that isn’t even here anymore and that lasted like three weeks at best but OMG Sativa! Sativa is nothing more than a fangirl bitch that carries around a bat. Sativa is someone that thinks she can walk the walk and talk to talk but when it comes right down to it the only thing she’s leaving here tonight is with disappointment. She wants to blame me for getting fired from 4CW? She wants to make this personal between the two of us.”
Jason turns towards the camera and chuckles a bit as he adjusts the XTV Championship belt over his right shoulder.
J. DAVIDSON: ”That’s fine by me because there are a couple of things Sativa needs to realize. If I’m the real reason you got fired from 4CW then maybe it would have been a good fucking idea for you to stay gone. You don’t go around clocking Perry Wallace with your little wiffle bat there and expect not to have to deal with a member of the Royal Family. And you certainly don’t go tugging on Superman’s cape and expect to just walk away with my property in your possession. We did this before with the 4CW Tag Team Championship belts. Last week you had your shot at redemption and you failed miserably. Now? You’re going to crash and burn even harder cunt because tonight I’m not in the mood to play games. Tonight I’m not feeling like messing around with you. Tonight is all about making history. And if I have to sodomize you with that fucking bat to prove it? Then so fucking be it.. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a match to go win.”
Jason pushes past Gabriel and heads off towards the curtain to the gorilla position as the head back to the ring for tonight’s title match.



POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the 4CW XTV Championship!”
The lights start to strobe between blue and red as ”Karate” by Babymetal kicks up. Sativa walks out from the back with her handy baseball bat draped across her shoulders. She side steps across the stage playing to the fans and having them boo her in return.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring, hailing from Los Angeles, California, Standing five feet seven inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twenty five pounds, the Deranged Duchess of Wrestling, SAAAAATIIIIVVVVAAAAA NEEEEEVAAAAAEEEEEEHHHH!!!!”
Sativa is followed by Eric Lee. The pair make their way to the ring amid the boos and jeers from the crowd. Sativa skips carefree, smiling the entire way. One fan, leaning over the guardrail, starts jeering at her, trying to get in her face. She pauses for a moment and tilts her head to the side, starring at the fan. She then bursts into laughter in their face and continues to the ring.
She climbs up onto the apron, kneeling in front of the ropes, the bat resting on her outer shoulder. She looks out around the crowd before seductively laying down and rolling into the ring. She pops up to her feet and skips around the ring, pointing out into the crowd and laughing occasionally.

POWERS: “And the opponent!”
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 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 XTV Championship slung over his right shoulder.
“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… He is 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 XTV Championship 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
The King…”

Jason hops down into the ring before walking to the center pushing Powers out of the way as he places the XTV Championship back over his right shoulder. He raises his arms into the air letting out another mighty roar as the referee comes over and removes the crown from the top of his head. He then hands his title over and moves to his corner, his eyes making direct contact with Sativa’s as the two stare each other down. The referee makes certain, after dropping the belt off with the timekeeper, to go over the rules of the match with both the challenger and the champion before signaling for the bell to signify the start of the match.

Unsurprisingly, the match starts off quickly with JPD and Sativa clashing in the middle of the ring and trading blows. Smaller, and a bit more swift, Sativa manages to avoid a few of JPD’s strikes and land a few extra to the champions abdomen before JPD lowers his shoulder into her stomach and forces her back into her own corner. The champion then grabs hold of the middle ropes on either side of Sativa’s waist and takes a half step back, intending to use his shoulder as a battering ram to punish her abdomen. She’s again just a half step to quick and leaps over him, sliding down his back and rolling him over into a quick pinfall attempt.

Both competitors scramble back to their feet quickly, Sativa avoiding another attempted right hand from JPD. She quickly grabs JPD by the back of his pants and uses what strength she has to toss him headfirst between the top and middle ropes, his right shoulder colliding roughly with the turnbuckle post. Not one to let an opportunity slip by, Sativa deftly climbs the the ropes to the top and leaps off, her foot coming down squarely on the back of his neck, the sharp crack of the contact drawing an “OOOOOO” from the crowd as the force of the blow causes Davidson to fall the rest of the way out ring. Sativa isn’t much better off as she landed awkwardly on the ring apron and tumbled to the outside as well.
VASSA: ”Creative move by Sativa there. Jason’s face shows just how much that one hurt him..”
JOHNSON: ”But it hurt her just as much. She can’t be doing that all match long.”
Slowly the two recover their breath, JPD having moved away from the ring to rest against the barricade, Sativa using the ring to support some of the weight of her body and catch her breath. A second later she smiles and takes off in the champion’s direction, launching herself through the air at him once she was close enough, only for Davidson to move out of the way in the niche of time and leave her to crash awkwardly into the barricade that JPD had just been resting against. Her lifeless body collapsed to the floor, the momentum suddenly shifting away from her favor.
JOHNSON ”UGH! That was just sickening. I think I heard Sativa’s spine snap in half on impact..”
VASSA: ”JPD showing those champion’s instincts again. Able to avoid sheer disaster at the last possible moment.”
Pulling her back to her feet, JPD rolled Sativa back into the ring and then rolled himself back in. It takes him a moment to adjust his opponent into the position he wanted her but soon enough Sativa is laying with her throat across the bottom rope and JPD straddling her back, his hands on either side of the rope pulling upward viciously to restrict the flow of air to her lungs. Normally the referee would be quick to step in and break the typically illegal hold up, but the stipulations of the match prevent him from doing so.
After excruciatingly long moments of watching the life drain from Sativa’s face, JPD thinks she’s out and relents, standing and raising his arms in the air, bellowing loudly at the crowd before dragging Sativa’s body to the center of the ring. Arrogantly he nudged her from her stomach over to her back with his foot and knelt down to cover her, only to be caught off guard by his opponent playing possum and rolling him up into a schoolboy pin.

VASSA: ”Near fall. Wow that was close..”
JOHNSON: ”It was. Outside of some early offense, however, this match has been all Davidson up until that moment.”
At the absolute last moment JPD managed to power out of the pinfall attempt and quickly rolls himself out of the ring, the look on his face telling the world that he knew just how close he had come to losing his championship in that very moment. Sativa is quick to move to the ropes and again ascend to the top rope as JPD is collecting his bearings. Raising both arms in the air, she leaps from the top rope to the outside of the ring. Half a second before she can land the axe handle, Davidson’s forearm flashes upward and catches her square in the jaw with a beautifully executed European uppercut.
Davidson again sees the momentum pendulum swing in his favor, lifting Sativa back to her feet and then up into the air, dropping her back down to the thin mat covering the concrete floor outside of the ring with a cradle piledriver. Once more it seems Sativa’s body has gone limp and once more JPD is pulling her back up to her feet and rolling her into the ring. Not being willing to take any more chances with his opponent playing possum, JPD climbs up onto the ring apron and shouts at a fan in the front row who was wearing attire that resembled Sativa’s quite closely. After a quick exchange of words, JPD gives the fan the finger and then climbs to the top rope. With a smile and a look of certainty that he was about to put the match away, Davidson leaps into a maneuver he calls THE AWAKENING, floating through the air gracefully before his body began to descend. At the last moment, if one would have captured the look on his face, a measure of horror flashed across as he realized that Sativa had rolled out of the way a half second before he smacked off the mat where her body had just been.
It takes Sativa a moment to collect herself but when she does she realizes that JPD is down and her chance to reclaim control of the match is right before her. With the bigger, stronger man grounded, Sativa wraps her arms and legs around the back and arms of the champion, torqueing his body in an unnatural direction with a lotus lock that causes him to howl out in pain. A vicious smile crosses her lips as each second passes and the cries of pain become a bit more panicked. She looks to the referee and demands that he asks if JPD gives up, to which the referee obliges, asks the champion and is firmly told no.
VASSA: ”This truly has been a back and forth affair but JPD is in big trouble right now.”
JOHNSON: ”I don’t think there’s a way out of this for him. She’s got that locked in deep. He’s got to tap, doesn’t he?”
Desperately seeking a way out of the painful submission hold, JPD rolls over to his knees, his face pressed against the mat with Sativa wrenching on the hold while on his back. He roars loudly and forces himself up to a kneeling position and then to a standing position with the challenger still wrapped all around him like a damn spider monkey. With no other choice, JPD risks dislocation both of his shoulders and backs up quickly into the corner, sandwiching Sativa between the weight of his body and the unforgiving turnbuckle pads. The shock of the force causes Sativa to lose her grip on the hold and give JPD the opportunity to stumble away from her, both of his arms hanging loosely at his sides, their effectiveness clearly having been minimized by the hold.
Both competitors take deep breaths of oxygen into their lungs and look at each other, sizing one another up, trying to determine how much they each had left in the tank. Sativa moves towards JPD first, he tries to swing but his shoulders are still rather unhappy with being twisted in the manner that they had been and so mid punch he cries out in pain and grabs his right shoulder, allowing Sativa to place a perfect drop kick to his knee, buckling him to a kneeling position and leaving him exposed to the shining wizard kick that made contact with the side of his skull a second later. Quickly, Sativa covers.

JOHNSON: ”How the hell did he just kick out of that? How do we not have a new XTV Champion right now?!”
Davidson somehow finds it in himself to kick out and leaves Sativa looking at the referee in disbelief. For a third time Sativa looks to the corner and to the top rope, gathering herself she moves to the corner and slowly ascends the ropes. JPD, having had enough strength to kick out of the previous maneuver, is still rather out of it as Sativa reaches the top rope and steadies herself. LEAF ON THE WIND! Sativa leaps and floats through the air, the crowd watching on mesmerized as she floated through the air only to groan as she landed face down on empty mat, JPD having rolled out of the way just as she had minutes earlier in the match.
Using all the strength he has left in his body, JPD uses the ropes to pull himself back up to a standing position while Sativa is recovering and pushing herself up to her hands and knees. Knowing that this was likely the last chance he was going to have to retain his championship, JPD strides towards Sativa, leaps in the air and places his foot directly on the back of her head, stomping her face first into the mat. BOW TO THE KING. Davidson drops to both knees, heaving a sigh of relief as he rolls her over onto her back, collapsing across her body for the pinfall attempt.

The referee reaches through the ropes to retrieve the belt that the timekeeper had been storing away. With the belt in his hands, the referee delivers it to the champion and raises his arm in victory as “Hail to the King” blares over the sound system. The look on his face says it all, though. Sativa Nevaeh just gave him one of the fights of his life and he’s lucky to be walking out of Adrenaline still the champion.
JOHNSON: ”Indeed it was. Jason P. Davidson retains but he had to give every ounce of his soul to do so. And that’s not even the last match of the night!”
VASSA: ”That’s right ladies and gentlemen, still on the way is JPD’s wife, Tara, squaring off against Persephone Marquis. I’ll tell you what this is better than any three match card and a donkey show in Mexico ever could dream of being.”

The lights in the locker room were off as Persephone Marquis steps through the door. You can hear some scrambling within the darkness. Flipping on the light switch the room brightens up to find Jason Cashe shoving himself back into his wrestling shorts. Considering the length of him, it’s takes somewhat of a struggle and she catches him, hand full of dick regardless.
QUEEF: ”What the fuck are you doing!?”
Her eyes are wide with amusement as her lips twitch into a smile, Cashe’s own eyes darting to avoid her gaze.
CASHE: ”Nothing!”
Shutting the door Queef pulls her Fate title off from her right shoulder. Letting it hang down in her hand she stares at her boyfriend with a smile that has turned. His face actually turning a shade of red it was clear he had been caught doing something. She had a pretty good idea of what.
QUEEF: ”Were you just… Rubbing one out?”
There is a bit of excitement in her voice. With the short amount of time they have spent together in their relationship, she has yet to catch him masturbating. She has always imagined that he does so while she sleeps as he’s stricken with boredom and insomnia. She knew she would catch him one day, just not backstage at an Adrenaline event in her locker room.
Of course, she doesn’t particularly want to know what got him so aroused. The last match was Sativah Nevaeh and JPD. If he got a woody off of that, she would rather not know. However, despite it being obvious, Cashe scoffs and shakes his head.

CASHE: ”What? NO! Heh, you’re crazy!”
Marquis raises an eyebrow, yes, a single brow, at his denial. Her catching him is a milestone for them, in a way, and he’s not going to dismiss it so easily.
QUEEF: ”Let me smell your hand then!”
His face cringes some almost surprised by her request, but he wasn’t having it as his head shakes. She would be able to confirm with just a sniff. When you’re around something so much, you just know the smell immediately. Or, okay, you know when you smell something and it reminds you of when you’re a kid? The smell of his dick wouldn’t bring her back to her childhood or anything, but it would probably remind her of how she nearly died choking on it the first time around.
Wait, what was the situation again? Oh yeah, she just knows the smell of his dick.

CASHE: ”Smell my hand? Why would you want to do that? What if while I was taking a shit I slipped and got a handful of mud butt?”
Marquis’ face twists slightly in disgust.
QUEEF: ”You better wash your goddamn hands after taking a shit! Now, stop fucking around; let me smell your hands…”
Walking over to him, she seems serious. Cashe leaps out of the chair he was sitting in and backs away from her. He doesn’t have too much room to get away as he touches the wall to his back. Queef gets in close. She lets her Fate Championship drop to the floor and instead of grabbing his hands, she grabs a handful of his groin. Smirking, she begins to mock him.
QUEEF: “‘Boy gee golly. ‘I wasn’t doing nothing! Never touched my dick in my life, hyuk, hyuk.’ Sure, sure. Why are you at “full sail” then, Captain?”
CASHE: “I can’t help myself when a beautiful woman enters the room?”
He smiles big to try and make the bait seem approachable, his missing teeth more endearing than ridiculous to her. Still, she rolls her eyes as she lets go of his dick.
QUEEF: ”Did you just ask that in question form hoping I’d buy that as an answer? Hah!”
Moving past her Cashe picks up the Fate Championship and hands it back to Queef. Wanting to change the subject as best as he can. Queef accepts the title and begins wrapping it around her waist
CASHE: ”We’re both Champions now chick!”
Fished putting the belt in it’s rightful place, she pats at the plate with a content smile before looking at Cashe. Her smile falls as her eyes meet the Primetime Championship lying upon a bench. Anything Uprising sends a bitter bile to her throat, having “killed” the fucking thing she felt as if she were the only one to deserve to hold one of their useless belts.
Her feelings show in her slightly unimpressed frown and almost cold words as she explains.

QUEEF: ”Difference is that MY Title is still active and not a retired relic of a shit promotion now in Mexico.”
Her words gain his attention as he walks over to the bench and picks up the Primetime Championship that he took after his match with Eli Carlson to kick off the show. Turning back towards her Cashe slaps the Championship over his shoulder. His chest sticking out more than before as if he stood with a pose full of confidence.
CASHE: ”Boooshit! This is a Championship of value! This is every ounce of what Eli stands for or stood for! His rise on Uprising, his win streak here on Adrenaline and THIS belt right here? It represents ALL that I’ve taken from him in one match. His rise now comes with a fall and I’m that fall. Now he has to start over again. This belt will remain on MY shoulder until I replace it with the Pride Championship. That’s MY goal now..”
Initially, or rather immediately, Queef finds a few flaws in his logic. Well, not exactly flaws, but an overall disagreement with where he’s coming from. The Primetime Championship will always been seen as an Uprising belt, as something Eli tried to take for himself. When you take a King’s crown and wear it, the sigil never leaves. Eli and Uprising is all that belt will ever be associated with. To try and replace Pride with something so shitty?
Well, it’s not like it matters. Cashe has a goal, she will support him in it.

QUEEF: ”That’s sounds like a great idea, honestly. I’m glad you have a goal. Thing is, though, I’ve got a Main Event to think about right now. I’ve got Tara Davidson to stand across from. That’s what Joseph trains me to do… Win. That’s what I plan to do tonight.”
CASHE: ”Good ol’ Josephine! I really want to meet him now…”
QUEEF: ”Stop it. I don’t need you guys having conflict. You don’t want me picking sides…”
CASHE: ”Nobody is asking you too. I have learned from previous bitc– experiences that trying to get between two friends isn’t my place. Not my concern who trains you because I know he wants what is best for you. I just want the chance to show that I might be a bad influence, but I’m not trying to be that for you. I have your best interests in mind…”
The silence that fills the room between the two is thick enough to cut with a knife. Cashe didn’t want her to head to the ring with anything, but her match and what she needed to do to win in her mind. Stepping over to her he wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her into him.
CASHE: ”I know you have a lot in your thoughts. I know there is a lot going on in your life but tonight isn’t about anything but this fight. This match is YOURS to win or lose so don’t worry about anything but this. We will figure everything else out and we will do it together alright? Do you trust me?”
Queef’s teeth grind in annoyance, a growl almost coming up. “Hey, mosquito boobs, but don’t imagine it right now.” He is sweet for trying to reassure her of his moral standing within their relationship, but to mention something and retract won’t take away the thought so easily.
Still, she rests her head against his chest and sighs deeply. For all the shit she talked to Tara, here is Queef letting a man get the better of her despite the minuscule trust she’s given him.

QUEEF: ”I guess…”
CASHE: ”Works for me. You got this and I got you…”
He makes them sway back and forth in the embrace, as if trying to lull her to sleep. Queef is nearly unaffected as she thinks.
QUEEF: “You know, I can’t wait to grab that fat ass. Gonna have the kind of match you can really jack off too, you know?”
The scenes fades out with Cashe defending himself immediately and loudly in a stumble as Queef howls with laughter.

The cameras cut to backstage as Hopkins, who just not long ago got finished from competing against Bryan Williams, was seen walking at a medium-paced, a grin on his face as the 4CW Championship strap sways back and forth on his left shoulder. He turns a corner, looking to head back to his locker room as he sees several folks backstage, workers, staff, slapping their hands and nodding his head as he keeps his pace. Feeling rather good in spirits, he seems alright with everything as he sports a calming grin. His eyes lower down, glaring at the floor rather than remaining up as it seems like he’s processing some things on his way back to his locker room. Making his way down the long hallway of the Wells Fargo Arena, he makes another cut to the left, rounding the corner.
HOPKINS: “An alright night … An alright night indeed.”
Whatever else he was thinking on about, it would quickly come to a halt as Dakota, who shot out of nowhere from the split-off of the hallway, shooting from the right side, he completely blindsided Hopkins, spearing him right through the Women’s Bathroom. The door and all had come off as Hopkins tried to roll off in serious pain. Dakota mounted Jair as he put his hands to work all over Jair’s face, muttering words of continued hatred down upon him. A few women who were at the sink area, quickly went into a horrifying stance as they were front-seat witnesses to the beatdown.
SMITH: “You may have gotten your friend back, but that title is going home with ME!”
Hopkins slowly had come to, finding himself after the several fists to the face from Dakota Smith. Dakota goes over to the dropped title that had fell off of Jair after the violent takedown as he picked it up, glaring at it, holding it like a lost child. His eyes, his mind is focused on the title but should’ve been more aware to Hopkins who attacked him from behind as he was shoved face-first into the side of the bathroom stall, dropping the title. Hopkins then yanked Dakota by his jacket as he lead him over towards the sink. The women who had backed their way into a corner had quickly made way to their exit in a frantic stance. Jair went to try and pounce on Dakota but Dakota came back with firing shots off.
SMITH: “You little piece of shit! You’re WEAK!”
HOPKINS: “You want weak, I got you!”
Jair delivered a swift kick to the groin of Dakota, doubling him over real quick. Hopkins took quick advantage of that by shoving Dakota’s head into the mirror on the wall, creating an immediate gash. He quickly drove Dakota from the sink area to the inside of one of the open bathroom stalls.
Jair heads into the stall after a brief pause as he goes after Dakota. He grabs him around the neck, he tried kicking the leg from under Dakota, trying to force him down, his aim to want and put Dakota’s head in the toilet. Dakota blocked Jair’s attempt, catching him off-guard with a punch to Jair’s groin for what was indeed payback. Taking Jair at that point, no hesitation, Dakota clocked Jair behind the head before shoving him right down into the toilet bowl and the water that sat half-way. Holding him down by the neck, signs of “South Beach Brawl” in reverse of Jair trying to drown Dakota.
Dakota was attempting to do the same. Dakota grabbing the legs of Hopkins, held him up, almost like a shakedown. Plunging him up and down before Security rushed their way into the scene, pulling Dakota off of Jair as with them pulling, he never let go of Hopkins legs. Them pulling him caused Hopkins to land awkwardly onto the floor right at the base of the toilet as he laid motionless momentarily. It took four of them to restrain Dakota as he smiled at the sight of Hopkins laid out.
GUARD: “Get him the hell out of here!”
The four escorted Dakota out of the picture as the other members of Security who hands were free rushed over to Hopkins to check on him as he cameras abruptly cut back to ringside.


JOHNSON: ”It’s finally time for our main event of the evening ladies and gentlemen. It’s a non-title match but we have Champion vs. Champion as one half of the 4CW World Tag Team Champions Tara Davidson goes one on one against the 4CW Fate Champion Persephone Marquis.”
VASSA: ”Sure this a non-title match but could you just imagine what a win here tonight against Queef would do for Tara? This could be where she really breaks out and proves she doesn’t just need her husband to succeed here in 4CW.”
JOHNSON: ”Lyza Reyes, Genevie, and others have been hot after Persephone Marquis and that Fate Championship belt but if Tara pins her here tonight? That no doubt puts her in contention for a shot to add to the gold she already has around her waist.”
VASSA: ”I’ve been waiting for this match all week. If you thought that triple threat match earlier tonight was hot than you haven’t seen anything yet. Queef about to come out here and eat the booty like groceries!”
JOHNSON: ”I apologize for my partner ladies and gentlemen. Let’s toss it down to Mike Powers who is ready to make the introductions for tonight’s main event.”
Johnson shakes his head as Vassa slaps his hands on the table repeatedly in sheer delight. The camera pans down to the ring where Mike Powers is standing in the center with his microphone in hand.
POWERS: ”The following match is our main event of the evening and it’s scheduled for one fall to a finish!”
Usually this is the part where Loyal by Chris Brown feat. Lil’ Wayne & Tyga hits and we cut to an ad for viagra or some shit like that but not this week. No, buddy this week? This week we got some special shit.
“You used to call me on my
You used to, you used to

This week the big screen above the entrance lights up as the arena is filled with the sound of Hotline Bling by Drake blasts through the arena. And the lyrics of the song begin to scroll on the big screen.
“You used to call me on my cell phone
Late night when you need my love
Call me on my cell phone
Late night when you need my love
And I know when that hotline bling
That can only mean one thing
I know when that hotline bling
That can only mean one thing”

POWERS: ”Introducing first from Manhattan, New York weighing in tonight at one hundred and twenty-one pounds. She is the 4CW Fate Champion PERSEPHONE MARQUISSSS!!!!!!”
“Ever since I left the city,
You got a reputation for yourself now
Everybody knows and I feel left out
Girl you got me down, you got me stressed out
‘Cause ever since I left the city,
you started wearing less and goin’ out more
Glasses of champagne out on the dance floor
Hangin’ with some girls I’ve never seen before”

The song continues to play and the lyrics continue to scrolls as Persephone Marquis makes her way out on stage. She has the 4CW Fate Championship belt strapped around her waist and holds her arms out wondering what the fuck is going on as the song continues.
“You used to call me on my cell phone
Late night when you need my love
Call me on my cell phone
Late night when you need my love
I know…”

JOHNSON: ”It looks as if Persephone Marquis isn’t quite happy with this new entrance theme.”
VASSA: ”I think she’s heading backstage!”
Just as Vassa stated Persephone shakes her head and head backstage as the music dies down for a moment. There is a moment of silence once again before the sound of different music begins to play and lyrics begin to scroll on the big screen again.
“We clawed, we chained, our hearts in vain
We jumped, never asking why
We kissed, I fell under your spell
A love no one could deny”

The sound of Wrecking Ball by Miley Cyrus begins to blast out throughout the arena as the crowd begins to go wild over the obvious burn on Persephone. All along ringside the fans begins joining hands together and singing along with the song.
“Don’t you ever say I just walked away
I will always want you
I can’t live a lie, running for my life
I will always want you”

POWERS: ”Introducing first from Manhattan, New York weighing in tonight at one hundred and twenty-one pounds. She is the 4CW Fate Champion PERSEPHONE MARQUISSSS!!!!!!”
“I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was break me
Yeah, you wreck me”

Persephone marches her way from the back out on stage in a huff completely upset over what is happening to her right now. Persephone begins stomping her feet on stage but the song just keeps playing.
“I put you high up in the sky
And now, you’re not coming down
It slowly turned, you let me burn
And now, we’re ashes on the ground
Don’t you ever say I just walked away
I will always want you
I can’t live a lie, running for my life
I will always want you”

JOHNSON: ”Hang with us ladies and gentlemen I think our sound guy is having technical difficulties.”
VASSA: ”Queef is about to have a nervous breakdown!”
“I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was break me
I came in like a wrecking ball
Yeah, I just closed my eyes and swung
Left me crouching in a blaze and fall
All you ever did was break me
Yeah, you wreck me”

POWERS: ”Bitch, hurry up and get your ass to the ring. I don’t get paid by the hour here!”
“I never meant to start a war
I just wanted you to let me in
And instead of using force
I guess I should’ve let you in
I never meant to start a war
I just wanted you to let me in
I guess I should’ve let you in
Don’t you ever say I just walked away
I will always want you”

VASSA: ”Is it just me or does Queef kind of look like a bullfrog when she’s mad?”
JOHNSON: ”I think that is how the kids say nowadays…triggering for her.”
“I came in like a wrecking ball
I never hit so hard in love
All I wanted was to break your walls
All you ever did was break me
I came in like a wrecking ball
Yeah, I just closed my eyes and swung
Left me crouching in a blaze and fall
All you ever did was break me
Yeah, you, you wreck me
Yeah, you, you wreck me”

Persephone raises her hands into the air and flips off everyone before turning around and heading backstage once again. The music dies down as once again there is a moment of silence before the big screen lights up with lyrics and music blast throughout the arena.
“Oppa Gangnam Style
Gangnam Style”

The sound of Gangnam Style by PSY begins to play throughout the arena and the fans are all over themselves with laughter. The lyrics on the big screen begin to scroll even though they are in Japanese.
“Najeneun ttasaroun inganjeogin yeoja
Keopi hanjanui yeoyureul aneun pumgyeok inneun yeoja
Bami omyeon simjangi tteugeowojineun yeoja
Geureon banjeon inneun yeoja”

POWERS: ”Introducing first from Manhattan, New York weighing in tonight at one hundred and twenty-one pounds. She is the 4CW Fate Champion PERSEPHONE MARQUISSSS!!!!!!”
“Naneun sanai
Najeneun neomankeum ttasaroun geureon sanai
Keopi sikgido jeone wonsyat ttaerineun sanai
Bami omyeon simjangi teojyeobeorineun sanai
Geureon Sanai”

Persephone Marquis storms out on stage with her arms crossed over her chest none too pleased at all with what is going on as the lyrics continue to scroll.
“Areumdawo sarangseureowo
Geurae neo hey geurae baro neo hey
Areumdawo sarangseureowo
Geurae neo hey geurae baro neo hey
Jigeumbuteo gal dekkaji gabolkka
Oppa Gangnam Style
Gangnam Style”

Persephone shakes her head and begins making her way down the ramp towards the ring trying to ignore the fact that the fans are singing along with the lyrics.
“Op, op, op, op
Oppa Gangnam Style
Gangnam Style
Op, op, op, op
Oppa Gangnam Style
Eh, sexy lady
Op, op, op, op
Oppa Gangnam Style
Eh, sexy lady
Op, op, op, op
Eh-eh-eh, eh-eh-eh”

JOHNSON: ”This is officially the longest entrance in 4CW history folks.”
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-

“These LYRICS ain’t loyal!”

-she enters the ring and regards her opponent with a smile and a friendly greeting, before turning to her corner with an eye roll and an almost disgusted expression. She waits in her corner for the match to start, sitting on the turnbuckle with her legs crossed; back to her patronizing smirk.
POWERS: ”And her 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 World 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 World 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: ”Well now that our sound technical difficulties are over with we can get to this match between to the top female competitors in the entire world.”
VASSA: ”The question is though will this match be a brawl? Will he be a technical classics? Or are we going to see to bitches shiver each other timbers right here in the middle of the ring?”
Mike Powers exits the ring after giving Persephone the evil eye. The referee does his final checks with Marquis then with Tara. Once both ladies are set to go the referee calls for the bell to signal the start of this match.

Both Persephone and Tara come out of the corner and circle each other in the middle of the ring before locking up collar and elbow. Both ladies struggle for the advantage but it’s Tara that takes control with a side headlock on Persephone. Tara cranks on the side headlock but Persephone grabs a hold of Tara and shoots her off into the ropes. Tara rebounds off the ropes and hits Persephone with running shoulder block that sends her down to the canvas hard. Tara turns around and races towards the ropes again as Persephone nips back up to her feet. As Tara rebounds off the ropes Persephone catches her and hits her with a hip toss down to the canvas hard. Tara scrambles back up to her feet but gets hit with a dropkick right to the face from Persephone that knocks her back to the canvas. Tara gets up to one knee and shakes her head as Persephone taunts the crowd.
JOHNSON: ”Early momentum from Tara but it was stopped cold by Persephone and now it looks like Tara is going to take a moment to regroup here.”
VASSA: ”Nothing wrong with taking a moment to gather yourself and come up with a new plan of attack. Right now Persephone is all retard strong and hyped from the disaster that was her entrance this week.”
Tara pulls herself back up to her feet then raises her hand into the air challenge Persephone to a test of strength. Persephone slowly raises her hand into the air but Tara plants a boot to the midsection that bends Persephone over in pain. Tara turns and races towards the ropes then rebounds off and hits Persephone with a straight boot to the side of the head that sends her down to the canvas hard. Tara grabs a hold of Marquis by the hair and drags her back up to her feet. Tara opens up with a set of knife edged chops to the chest of Persephone before whipping her into the turnbuckle spine first hard. Tara gets a running start towards the corner then leaps into the air and hits Marquis with a big splash in the corner that crushes her against the turnbuckle. Persephone falls to the canvas leaned against the middle turnbuckle pad as Tara begins to smirk. The crowd stands on their feet as Tara begins over and begins slapping her hand against her own ass.
JOHNSON: ”I have no idea what is about to happen here but I have a feeling it’s not going to be good for Persephone Marquis.”
VASSA: ”Oh my god it’s about to happen. DO IT DO IT DO IT!!!”
Tara begins to seductively pull down her pants over her ass and then points over towards Persephone in the corner. Momma didn’t raise no bitch so without an ounce of fear in her heart raises into the side of her own pants and pulls out a plastic spork and knife before screaming out towards Tara.
”Bring it on, Bitch!”

Tara backs up towards the corner. Spreads her cheeks and gives Persephone the stinkface that everyone has been waiting to see. Tara wiggles her hips side to side as Persephone face is buried deep inside of the best ass in 4CW.
Flashbulbs go off all over the arena capturing this moment as Tara finally pulls away from the corner. Persephone’s hair is an absolute mess but Tara leans down and offers her hand to Persephone. With a smile Persephone takes Tara’s hand accepting her help back up to her feet but only Tara wasn’t helping her back up to her feet. Tara places her boot on the side of Persephone’s face and with her arms locked hits her with a vicious curb stomp down to the canvas hard. Tara hooks the leg and makes the cover on Persephone as the referee slides in for the count.

Persephone gets her shoulder up before the three count could be made!
JOHNSON: ”Sly strategy from Tara to lure Marquis in like that and then plant her with that nasty curb stomp to the face. It almost worked too but Marquis just managed to get her shoulder off of the canvas before the three count.”
VASSA: ”I’m so glad I decided to set my DVR at home for this. I’m going to rewind back to that moment so many damn times that I may not show up to the next Adrenaline.”
Tara gets back up to her feet then grabs a hold of Persephone by the hair and begins to pull her back up to her feet. Tara plants a boot to Persephone’s midsection then shoves her head between her legs. Tara grabs Persephone by the waist and then lifts her up into the air for a powerbomb but Persephone counters hitting Tara with a hurricanrana that snaps her down to the canvas. Tara hits the canvas then rolls to the outside of the ring to regroup. Persephone gets a running start on the inside of the ring as Tara pulls herself up to feet on the outside of the ring. Persephone dives through the ropes and hits Tara with Hamartia spiking her down to the arena floor hard. Persephone gets back up to her feet then grabs a hold of Tara and rolls her back into the ring. Persephone slides back into the ring then stands over the fallen Tara. Persephone drops down to one knee then grabs a hold of Tara and bends her over her knee. Persephone pulls down Tara pants yet and again. Persephone licks her hands then begins spanking Tara in the center of the ring as the crowd goes wild.
JOHNSON: ”This is….unorthodox offense by Persephone Marquis on Tara Davidson but somehow I have a feeling that Tara’s not trying to stop her.”
VASSA: ”Persephone told us for two weeks she was coming for that ass and now she’s pounding away at it! This match is going alone is going to fill up my spank bank for the next three years!”
Persephone pushes Tara down to the canvas as Tara reaches around and grabs her ass in pain. Persephone grabs Tara by the air as she pulls her pants back up again. Persephone gives Tara a boot to the midsection then whips her off into the ropes. Tara leaps up to the middle rope then springboards off and goes for the .24 Carat Kick but Persephone moves out of the way and Tara hits the referee knocking him out cold. Persephone comes up from behind Tara grabbing her by the waist. Persephone lifts Tara up and over for a German suplex but Tara counters and lands on her feet. As Persephone gets back up to her feet Tara plants the boot to the midsection then spikes Persephone down to the canvas with the Face Lift. Tara hooks the leg and makes the cover on Persephone but there is no referee to make the count.
JOHNSON: ”Tara connected with the Face Lift and this one should be over but there is no referee to make the count and Marquis is out cold!”
VASSA: ”The referee got caught by that .24 Carat Kick and even though Tara has Persephone beaten there is nothing she can do until that referee regains consciousness.”
Tara gets to her holding her hands in the air as she makes her way over towards the referee and begins kicking him. The referee doesn’t move but Persephone pulls herself up to her feet. Persephone comes up from behind Tara and hits her with a backstabber that takes her down to the canvas hard. Persephone keeps her hold on Tara and rolls through before locking in the Pending Payment. Tara screams out in pain as Persephone yanks back on the hold as hard as she can. Tara begins to fight and claw her way over towards the ropes but once again the referee is down and out and there is no one to even force a rope break. The pain becomes too much and Tara begins tapping out but again there is no referee to declare Persephone the winner. Persephone let’s go of the hold as Tara rolls to the outside of the ring. Persephone goes over and checks on the referee but he’s still out cold. Persephone shrugs her shoulders and rolls to the outside of the ring. Persephone walks around the steel ring steps and then shoves the cameraman down to his feet. Persephone looks down at Tara before she begins to pull down her own pants this time. Persephone pops a squat directly over Tara’s face and then a look of sweet relief begins to melt over her face.
JOHNSON: ”They don’t pay me enough to call this kind of action!”
JOHNSON: ”RIP Adrenaline being on Showtime.”
Tara jumps up hair completely drenched as she begins to crawl away from Persephone who snatches some napkins away from a fan at ringside. Persephone cleans herself up and pulls her pants back up as Tara crawls back into the ring. Persephone slides back into the ring but Tara charges and cuts Persephone in half with a spear that takes her down to the canvas hard. Tara gets back up to her feet then races towards the ropes as Persephone tries to pull herself back up to her feet. Tara rebounds off the ropes then leaps into the air and connects with The Goodnight Kiss to the back of Persephone’s head. Persephone hits the canvas like a ton of bricks as the referee finally begins to stir. Tara hooks the leg and makes the cover on Persephone as the referee crawls over to make the count.

Persephone gets her shoulder up at the last second before the three!
JOHNSON: ”The Goodnight Kiss by Tara and…. I can’t even. How am I supposed to call this wrestling match after everything I just seen?!”
VASSA: ”You’re a professional goddamnit. Act like it!”
Tara gets to her feet and she can’t believe it. Tara grabs a hold of Persephone and drags her back up to a vertical base. Tara walks Persephone over towards the corner and then slams her head down onto the turnbuckle. Tara grabs a hold of Persephone and lifts her up to the top turnbuckle. Tara climbs the turnbuckle then stands on the top rope over Persephone. Tara signals for a hurricanrana off the rope but Persephone knocks one of Tara’s legs out from under her and causes her to get crotched on the top rope before falling down to the canvas hard. As Tara drags herself back up to her feet Persephone leaps off the top rope and hits Tara with Petty Cash down to the canvas hard. Persephone hooks the leg and makes the cover on Tara as the referee slides in for the count.

Tara gets her shoulder up at the last second before the three!
JOHNSON: ”And now Tara kicks out of Persephone’s finisher! Dare I say it, this has been one hell of a match!”
VASSA: ”If this doesn’t win match of the year then there is no God!”
Persephone gets up to her feet and runs her fingers through her hair not knowing what to do to put Tara away. Persephone grabs a hold of Tara and pulls her up to her feet. Persephone grips the head lock and races towards the corner. Persephone runs up the turnbuckle pads and goes for Petty Cash again but Tara pushes Persephone away. Tara gives Persephone a boot to the midsection and goes for a second Goodnight Kiss but Persephone moves out of the way. Persephone grabs a hold of Tara and rolls her up then puts her feet on the ropes as the referee slides in for the count.

”Here is your winner…PERSEPHONE MARQUIS!!!!!!”
JOHNSON: ”Persephone Marquis survives Tara Davidson here tonight and gets the big win! That match could have gone either way and I think we seen some things that we’ll never again see on 4CW television.”
VASSA: ”Someone got their ass eaten, someone got peed on. Goddamn and now I need a cigarette.”

Rising to her feet, Marquis stands tall s the official steps in beside her, raising her arm into the air.
JOHNSON: “There you have it folks, Adrenaline fifty-three!”
VASSA: “Tonight has just been full of surprises and excitement.”
JOHNSON: “It has Vinny, but the show must come to an end. We’re just out of time!”
VASSA: “Where we headed next?”
JOHNSON: “In two weeks we’ll be at the Verizon Arena in Little Rock, Arkansas.”
VASSA: “Why the fuck are we going there?”
JOHNSON: “I hear it’s been a while since Arkansas has seen some decent wrestling.”
VASSA: “That’s almost as bad as being stuck in Mexico doing donkey shows.”
JOHNSON: “If you say so. Check us out in two weeks folks for Adrenaline fifty-three! I’m Steven Johnson!”
VASSA: “And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good night and may your next ninety minutes be filled with peace and happiness!”
With the Fate Championship in hand, Marquis paces the ring momentarily before turning to the corner and climbing to the top. Overlooking the crowd, she holds the championship over her shoulder as the scene slowly fades out to the poster for the upcoming pay-per-view, Fright night.