Making his 4CW debut in style, Viduus Morta set the small crowd that gathered before the main show on fire! Stepping into the ring with Aidan Cooper, Viduus steamrolled through Aidan from the sound of the bell. Quickly wearing him down with a pair of power moves, Aidan seemed to lose his way before even finding it. After getting hit with a German Suplex and a brainbuster from the top of the corner, Aidan seemed to run out of gas – what little he had to begin with. Finishing the match rather quickly, Viduus ended Aidan’s night with the Impaler, putting him down for the one, two, and the three!

“Bulls On Parade” by Rage Against the Machine blares over the Verizon Arena as we open to an overhead shot of the near sold out crowd. The atmosphere is electric as Adrenaline fifty-seven kicks off live from Washington DC. In the crowd, the camera zooms in on various signs held by the fans in attendance.

At ringside, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa sit behind the booth as the camera angle changes to a clear shot just feet in front of them.
JOHNSON: “Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to another episode of Adrenaline!”
VASSA: “Brought to you by the great people at Showtime.”
JOHNSON: “We’re in our nation’s capital just three weeks before Winter Wasteland!”
VASSA: “Not only that, we’re just weeks away from a milestone event with our three year anniversary.”
JOHNSON: “This year has flown by, but it isn’t over yet! Before we reach that huge mark, we have an exciting lineup in store for you all watching from home and to those who have joined us at the Verizon Arena this evening.”
VASSA: “We have two key matches later in the card. Two matches that will determine who Bryan Williams will defend the Pride Championship against at Winter Wasteland.”
JOHNSON: “Those are two VERY big matches we have on the books for tonight. We have eight people involved in two fatal fourway matches. Only one from each will advance to Winter Wasteland.”
VASSA: “We have some big names in these matches as well, former champions of both 4CW and past promotions no longer in business.”
JOHNSON: “We also have an official contract signing between Elijah Carlson and Jair Hopkins for the 4CW Championship match at Winter Wasteland.”
VASSA: “This thing has been building since the closing of Fright Night. Tonight there’s no turning back as things are made official.”
JOHNSON: “It was made official when Eli won the Warzone of Horrors at Fright Night. I’ve never understood the concept of these contract signings when the match has already been made official.”
VASSA: “Me either, but it’s one last chance for out competitors to meet face to face before the big match.”
JOHNSON: “We also have plenty more adrenaline pumping action in store for you all tonight. Those are just a few of the highlights!”
VASSA: “Before any of that, we’ll kick things off with an opening bout between Jason Cashe and the newly crowd XTV Champion, Sativa Nevaeh!”
JOHNSON: “This match is guaranteed to set the bar for the entire night. And to top it off, Bryan Williams will be our special guest referee!”
VASSA: “This has nothing but trouble written all over it!”
JOHNSON: “Cashe does like to refer to himself as the ‘Troubled One’.”
VASSA: “You’re right about that!”
JOHNSON: “There’s a little preview of things to come folks. Sit tight, we’re going to go backstage momentarily before we kick things off in our nation’s capital!”

We transition to a scene of a locker room that belongs to Lauryn Wolfe. Inside, the cameras catch sight of “The Reckless One” with her trainer, Amanda Zolnerowich. However, by the angry looks on their faces, it’s clear to see that the women have been entangled in a heated exchange of words.
WOLFE: “I don’t get why you’ve completely ignored me these past few weeks. Anytime I go to your place to train you don’t even say anything to me. Hell, you barely look at me in my general direction! The hell is going on with you?”
ZOLNEROWICH: “Oh, so you feel like you’re being ignored, huh? Hm… I wonder how that must feel for you.”
Clearly agitated, Lauryn lets out a frustrated sigh as she rolls her eyes.
WOLFE: “It feels horrible. Now come on, Amanda, this is serious! I’m trying to reach out to you here so that I can salvage this whole thing and you won’t even give me the chance to do so.”
Despite Lauryn’s pleas of wanting to get everything patched up between them, the Southern woman seems unsympathetic as her gaze towards her student hardens.

ZOLNEROWICH: “Well, now you know what it feels like to be constantly pushed away by someone that just cares about you.”
WOLFE: “So, what? Is this your way of getting back at me? That’s pretty petty if you ask me.”
ZOLNEROWICH: “You and me both, sweetheart. But hey, I don’t think you would have a problem with people leaving you alone. After all, that’s what you always do. You close yourself off from everyone and anyone, too busy being in your own little bubble and disregarding everything around you with not a single care in the world.”
WOLFE: “That’s not what it’s like…”
ZOLNEROWICH: “Really? Well, I find that hard to believe. Care to elaborate on what you said?”
Amanda folds her arms to her chest, having a mean look on her face as her eyes seemed to pierce at the young woman before her. Lauryn frowns, placing her hands on her hips as she lets out another sigh.
WOLFE: “It’s just that I… I don’t like having you see me in a distressed state or when I’m a complete mess, alright? With the altercation with Jake months ago to what happened after Fright Night. I hate it when people see me in such a frail state. It just gets to me, you know?”
ZOLNEROWICH: “Seriously?”
WOLFE: “I’m very serious here. I’ve always been the type of person that just keeps my guard up at all time. I don’t want any hint of weakness to seep through because if I let that show through, then it means that I’m vulnerable. I hate that feeling so much and I don’t ever want to feel like that. Ever.”
Zolnerowich would cock a brow at Lauryn, who simply gave a shrug to her. For a moment, Amanda averted her gaze from Wolfe and thought for a bit before she looked back at her, letting out a soft chuckle.
ZOLNEROWICH: “That… has honestly got to be the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard.”
Just then, Lauryn’s tone traded for a more irritated one.
WOLFE: “Well, you wanna talk about honesty? I think that you’re being a real bitch for no reason. Telling me outright in front of everyone a few weeks back that I was a choker. Now here I am, trying to get us back on track, and you wanna say that what you’ve heard was stupid? Fuck you, Amanda. If you want to keep up with this act and not support me, then go on right ahead. I don’t fucking need you. When I go out there later on tonight and win my fucking match, then you’ll feel like a complete fool, just like everyone else here that has ever doubted me and said that I don’t have what it takes to win a big match.”
By then, Lauryn’s chest was beginning to rise and fall rapidly and her hands clenched tightly into fists. She was infuriated, but Amanda wasn’t bothered by it in the slightest. In fact, she laughs as she shakes her head.
ZOLNEROWICH: “Well, looks like someone is mad! You don’t need me anymore? God damn! You sound just like her….”
Just then, Amanda’s mocking tone trailed off as she realized what she just said. Lauryn was quick to catch on as well, arching a brow in confusion as she blinks. She tries to make sense of it all as she slightly raises her finger.
WOLFE: “Wait, whoa, hold on… ‘her’? Who is this ‘her’?”
Amanda bites her bottom lip, rubbing the back of her neck. She then gives Lauryn a dismissive fanning of her hand, as if to say that she should disregard what was just said.
ZOLNEROWICH: “Nothing, nothing. You don’t need to worry about that.”
WOLFE: “Why are you being so deflective? You just spouted out that I was just like ‘her’. So, who is she?”
ZOLNEROWICH: “You know what? How about I just leave and give you some time to warm up for that big match of yours, eh? You and I can get into that another time.”
WOLFE: “Wait, so you’re just gonna ditch me like that? What do you mean – “
However, just as Lauryn was about to press on for more answers, Amanda quickly left the locker room. Lauryn gets pissed by this of course and frowns, running a hand through her hair as she tries to calm herself down.
WOLFE: “Damnit!”
Taking a seat down on a chair, Lauryn hangs her head down and sighs when, all of sudden, she realizes something. Perking her head up, she pats herself down in an attempt to find something. Reaching a hand into her cargo pants, she pulls out a crumpled up piece of paper. It was the same letter that was sent to her by a crazed person the other day. Upon further examination, the cameras zoom in on the letter ‘C’ that was signed in a messy script handwriting. The attention then shifts over to Lauryn’s face, and it looks like she’s in deep thought.
WOLFE: “…She has to know who this person is…”
Still perplexed, Lauryn shakes her head as she looks up, trying to get a handle of everything that just transpired as the scene fades out.


JOHNSON: “Interesting way to kick off the evening, folks!”
VASSA: “Yeah, you’re not kidding. I already see Bryan Williams in the ring, for those of you unaware it seems that Perry Wallace decided that our opening contest needed a special referee. Afterall, Jason Cashe seems to have a history with assaulting officials now.”
JOHNSON: “Right you are, Vinny!”
VASSA: “Steve, I was being sarcastic. Jason Cashe had every right to do what he did. This whole thing is preposterous!”
JOHNSON: “I don’t know about all that, but I do know that Bryan Williams is upstanding. He’ll call this match down the middle!”
VASSA: “Right, and Donald Trump will lead this country into greatness too. You are so full of shit, Steve. Bryan is out here to do one thing, and that’s get one over on Jason Cashe.”
The lights start to strobe between blue and red as ”Fucking in the Bushes” by Oasis kicks up. Sativa walks out from the back with her handy baseball bat draped across her shoulders. She sidesteps 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 makes 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, staring 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.

JOHNSON: “Well think about whatever you want with Bryan Williams, but Sativa Nevaeh has certainly carved out a piece of her own here. She is the current XTV champion, and Sativa has a big opportunity here to impress!”
VASSA: “Impressive win, but we’re about to see the best XTV champion in our company’s history! Jason Cashe is a whole different level, Sativa better be prepared.”
Bryan talks to Sativa for a moment, he seems to be discussing something about the match with her. For a moment she doesn’t look too pleased, but Bryan continues to talk. Eventually she seems to come around, nodding her head. Sativa leans to the outside, saying something to Eric Lee as he stands ringside.
Eric seems confused for a moment, but Bryan quickly comes over to explain. We cannot hear exactly what’s being said, but Eric nods and heads towards the back.
JOHNSON: “It looks like Bryan is telling Eric Lee to head to the back!”
VASSA: “Okay, that’s fair. I can give Bryan credit on that one, maybe he is going to call it down the middle.”
JOHNSON: “It certainly does put Sativa at a disadvantage here.”
VASSA: “Hey, sink or swim. Now is the time to prove why you’re championship material.”
The arena goes into a brief silence before Jason Cashe comes out from the back, 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. Cashe stays in his corner, almost staring a hole through Bryan Williams. Bryan doesn’t flinch, instead he smirks as he stares right back at Cashe.
VASSA: “Stil some supporters in the crowd, that’s always nice to see! Look at Cashe too, so intense tonight. If looks could kill, am I right Steve?”
JOHNSON: “Right you are, Vinny. You gotta wonder what kind of a factor Bryan will play into this.”
VASSA: “If he’s smart he’ll do his job, and keep his business to himself.”

Bryan calls for the bell, and this match begins! With his back still turned towards the timekeeper, Cashe takes the opportunity and clobbers Bryan Williams from behind with a Mark of Jason!
JOHNSON: “WHOA! Cheap shot by Jason Cashe, he went right after Bryan Williams!”
VASSA: “I told ya! He should have mind his own business, that’s what ya get!”
The crowd is in shock, Cashe laughs as Bryan collapses to the canvas. Sativa quickly rushes Cashe, the crowd cheering her on as Jason Cashe tries to cover himself up for the current onslaught. She backs him up into the corner, a flurry of strikes landing all over Cashe. He seems to be weathering the storm though, waiting for his opportunity to strike. Cashe sees an opening, but Sativa counters with a quick elbow strike that stuns him!
Cashe looks to shake off the strike, as Sativa readies herself. She charges towards the corner, but Cashe quickly moves out of the way. He grabs a hold of Sativa’s hair, and tosses her over the top rope to the outside! Sativa lands hard, completely missing the apron as she smacks onto the floor below! Cashe turns his attention back towards Williams, who is trying to get back up. A running knee catches Bryan Williams on the side of his head, causing him to tumble out of the ring!
JOHNSON: “Jason Cashe is moving like a man possessed, he’s totally controlled the start of this match!”
VASSA: “Well, now that Bryan is out of the way can we get a real official out here?”
JOHNSON: “Bryan is the real official, and now Cashe is free to do whatever he pleases!”
Cashe laughs, the match completely in his control now. He exits the ring, grabbing Sativa and tossing her right shoulder first into the nearby steel steps. Sativa hits the steps, bouncing off of them as they have absolutely no give. With no count to worry about, Cashe takes his time. He slowly picks Sativa up, tossing her over his head with a Double Arm Suplex! Sativa crash lands hard, the crowd booing Jason Cashe as he gets back up. Cashe gives Sativa a few shots to her ribs, for good measure. She turns onto her stomach, trying to cover up.
Sativa does her best to recover quickly, as Cashe looms over her. He picks her up again, tossing her back into the ring. Sativa rolls towards the middle, as Cashe takes his time entering the ring again. Getting to her knees, Sativa lashes out with a shot to Cashe’s midsection! The crowd cheers as he doubles over, Sativa attempts to run to the ropes but Cashe reaches out! He grabs a handful of Sativa’s hair, slamming her hard onto the mat!
JOHNSON: “Sativa is really trying hard to get back into this match, but Jason Cashe just cuts her off at every turn!”
VASSA: “He’s got her figured out, it’s only going to get worse from here on.”
JOHNSON: “Bryan Williams is still down, Cashe looks like he wants to enjoy his time with this one!”
VASSA: “Wouldn’t you?”
Sativa holds the back of her head in pain, as Cashe stands over her once more. He picks her up, a Pop Up Sitdown Spinebuster just CRUSHES Sativa into the mat! Brimming with confidence, Cashe lazily covers Sativa for the pinfall!
JOHNSON: “Cashe got too caught up in the moment, I don’t think he realizes that Bryan is still down!”
VASSA: “Come on Bryan, get up and do your job you lazy shit!”
He curses, soon realizing that Bryan is still very much out of it outside of the ring. The elbow and knee seem to have done their damage, as Bryan is still trying to get back up. Cashe gets up, walking over to the side of the ring Bryan is at. He yells something at him, trying to corral him back into the ring! Bryan is slow to get back up, which seems to frustrate Cashe even more. He looks around, Sativa still trying to recover from the brutal attack on the outside.
Cashe exits the ring, grabbing Bryan by the shirt and pulling him back inside. He rolls Bryan in, focused on getting him back to his task. The crowd begins to cheer though, as Cashe hasn’t seen Sativa stirring to her feet.
JOHNSON: “Cashe has been too busy to notice, Sativa is going top rope!”
VASSA: “Look out Cashe!”
Cashe finally looks up, catching the full force of Sativa’s feet in his face as she launches herself off the top rope with a Missile Dropkick! Cashe stumbles backwards, dazed by the attack. Sativa takes a quick second, to recover and to try and get Bryan back up. Annoyed, Cashe lunges towards Sativa, she slides under him and clobbers him with a Pele Kick! The move drops Cashe to a knee, allowing Sativa to catch him with a Running Knee! It catches Cashe right under his chin, causing him to slump backwards onto the mat!
Bryan finally begins to stir, as Sativa calls for him to make the count. She quickly covers Jason Cashe, but Bryan is a bit slow to start his count!

JOHNSON: “Bryan just couldn’t get the count going in time, Sativa might have had it there!”
VASSA: “It’s going to take a lot more than that to put down Jason Cashe!”
Cashe kicks out, still a bit out of it from the attack. Sativa looks to have recovered, as Bryan still looks a bit out of it. Sativa stands over Bryan, trying to help him back up to his feet. She almost has him up, when Cashe gets up and clobbers her from behind with a Running Mark of Jason! Sativa slams into Bryan, the two crumbling to the mat.
JOHNSON: “Mark of Jason!”
VASSA: “That’s it! Say goodnight to the XTV champion!”
JOHNSON: “And unfortunately it looks like Bryan was caught again, he goes down in a heap as well!”
VASSA: “This fuckin’ guy, I swear…”
Ready to end this match, Cashe waits for Sativa to get back up. The Mark of Jason landed clean, knocking her silly. He waits for the right moment to strike, as Sativa is slow to her feet. Suddenly, the crowd erupts!
JOHNSON: “Wait a minute! Is that-”
VASSA: “Get that idiot out of here!!”
Of all people, of all things, Dave comes running out of the back with a folding chair in his hands. Dave doesn’t look particularly happy to be doing this, but he doesn’t look determined. Jason keeps his focus on Sativa, ready to pounce as soon as she stands back up.
Dave readies himself, sliding into the ring with the steel chair in his hands. Jason Cashe doesn’t look like he has noticed, the crowd cheering as it gives Dave a perfect opportunity to strike! Dave levels the chair above his head, and…

VASSA: “Nice try Dave, thanks for coming out!”
JOHNSON: “Jason Cashe blasted him with the elbow, and Dave looks to be completely out of it.”
VASSA: “It’s over, Steve. Just accept it, Cashe is going to do whatever he wants now!”
Cashe laughs as Dave collapses to the mat, the chair bouncing all over the ring. In a split second he had turned around, catching Dave with a Mark of Jason. The elbow lands clean, instantly knocking Dave out. His body falls almost in slow motion, a sack of meat dropping to the canvas. The crowd begins to boo, as Cashe sets his sight on the chair that Dave brought into the ring.
Sativa begins to stir, as Cashe calmly walks over towards the chair. He picks it up, his eyes set on his downed opponent. Sativa tries getting back up, crawling towards the ropes as she does. Her body doesn’t seem to be responding just yet, not in the way that she’s hoping for. Cashe laughs, taking his time as he walks over towards Sativa. Without saying anything he raises the chair above his head, ready to send it crashing down on top of her!
VASSA: “Cashe, look out!”
The crowd cheers, as Bryan Williams grabs the chair out of Cashe’s hands. Bryan seems to have recovered now, he gives a wave to the confused Jason Cashe. Cashe readies himself to throw another elbow strike, but Bryan lashes out and catches him with a Superkick! The move seems to catch everyone off guard, especially Jason Cashe. His eyes roll back into his head, as Sativa gets up to a knee.
Cashe doesn’t fall though, he stumbles backwards onto the ropes. The momentum bounces him forward slightly, right into the waiting arms of Sativa!
JOHNSON: “GOT EM! Sativa connects with the cutter!”
VASSA: Oh god damnit, this isn’t fair!”
Cashe’s head violently spikes into the canvas, the crowd cheering wildly. Bryan laughs, motioning for Sativa to hurry up and cover Cashe. Sativa does, quickly covering him as Bryan drops down to make the count!


POWERS: “Here is your winner, SATIVA NNEEVVAAEEHH!!!”
Cashe kicks out almost a second too late, he’s in shock as Sativa and Bryan quickly slide out of the ring. Sativa grabs Dave from under the bottom rope, dragging his lifeless body to the outside. Cashe looks around, the crowd cheering for Sativa’s victory and Bryan’s comeuppance.
The realization quickly sets in, but Bryan is already celebrating on the ramp with Sativa. He holds her hand up high, in victory. Cashe kicks the bottom rope, anger and revenge dead set in his eyes as he stares at Bryan.

JOHNSON: “Sativa does it! She has pinned Jason Cashe!”
VASSA: “That’s complete bullshit! Bryan Williams just cost Jason Cashe the match! He attacked him, he counted way too fast! What the FUCK?!”
JOHNSON: “You’d have to be a fool to think that Bryan wouldn’t retaliate for Cashe’s earlier actions, in the end they came back to bite him right in the ass.”
VASSA: “This is a travesty, what kind of company would allow something like this to happen?!”

The cameras cut to the backstage area, where the Princess of 4CW herself is seen at a table backstage, there are T-Shirts laid out on the table in front of her, in neat little stacks. Two different colors to choose from. White, and Black. They seem to be pretty simple in design. They simply only read one thing. “Jair’s Life Matters.” She smiles at the camera.
G.CARLSON: ”Hey everyone! Your Princess is here and as I promised I am here taking time out of my very busy schedule to not only support one Charity, but TWO. Now we all know you mouth breathers hang on to my every word via Twitter so you already know that I’m selling these T-Shirts to help me fund a very special memorial ceremony for not only mine, but your future 4CW Champion’s dead unborn child. That Memorial Service will be held later tonight by the way. I know that this situation has touched a lot of you deeply and really this service will be for all of you as well.”
Genevie picked up one of the shirts from the table and unfolded it, and smoothed it out before picking it up and holding it up for everyone to get a real good look at it.
G.CARLSON: ”The other cause is for our current 4CW Champion as you can clearly see. Now before you people get all up in arms, like this is a race thing. Well it is, but before you all come beating my door down, just listen. A lot of people are gonna say that Jair is a shit Champion. Although it’s totally true and not without it’s own merit. It really is about time that this poor guy stops getting so oppressed by all the white men. It’s about time that someone really took a stand for this guy. I mean it will matter as much as people lighting Ferguson on fire, but hey. Let’s give this man some hope before he loses everything. Come one, and Come all. These things are hot, and they are for some great causes! I will be here for just a little while longer before I have to get ready for not only the grand Memorial Service, but for my match where I will become the Number One Contender to the Pride Championship.”
Genevie smiled before laying the shirt back down on the table, as a member of the 4CW staff team came up to the table and picked one up.
G.CARLSON: ”It’s fourteen ninety-five for a T-Shirt. Cash Only. Black or White. It doesn’t matter. Right?”
The Man handed Genevie a Twenty and picked up one of the Black T-Shirts and stood there waiting. Gen just stared at him back, before pointing down the hallway.
G.CARLSON: ”You can go now.”
STAFF: ”I’m waiting for my change.”
G.CARLSON: ”Uhhh.It’s for charity. You don’t get change back, like really how selfish can you be that you want to steal from charity like that?!”
STAFF: ”How are you going to charge people less than twenty dollars but then they give you a twenty and they get no change? That’s messed up.”
G.CARLSON: ”Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave before I call security.You’re being out of control and there are other people waiting.”
Sure enough there were more people lined up to support Genevie’s cause. The man shook his head and walked away with his T-Shirt as Genevie smiled and waved before looking back up at the camera after rolling her eyes.
G.CARLSON: ”As you can see these things aren’t going to last. So come stop by and get yourself a Jair’s Life Matters, because like these shirts? This Cause wont last long. In fact, Jair’s Life Matters will be over by Winter Wasteland, when the New 4CW Champion will be crowned. The hottest, most talented, and your Prince of 4CW, Elijah Carlson.I promise you we will remember all those who supported us in this time of need. All those who bought these shirts and really helped us put on the most beautiful Memorial Service of all for the child we lost. Support the Causes, because Jair’s Life Matters.”
Genevie smiled before turning her attention to the people lined up to buy her shirts as she eagerly took their money and let them pick out which shirt they wanted in whatever size they wanted as the scene went dark, and the cameras moved on to other events.


POWERS: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
Everyone in the crowd goes quiet as “Centuries” by Fall Out Boy blares on the PA System and the lighting dims to a bare white lighting. Darin Matthews comes out walking slowly in a sport coat in his tights on with sun glasses on. Matthews makes it slowly towards the entrance ramp and stops until the chorus hits. Matthews takes the sun glasses off quickly and clips them to his coat and the lights dim to where a spotlight hits him and the video cuts out. As Zion walks down towards the entrance ramp, fans try grabbing at him to high five him and Matthews screams at them, “Don’t Touch Me, Worthless Sheep.” As Matthews makes it towards the ring, Matthews stops for a moment and rushes up towards the steps, wiping his feet before entering the ring. Matthews jumps into the ring and immediately climbs up towards the top rope before the lights turn to gold. Matthews looks towards the sky and smirks sadistically as the fans immediately start booing. The music cuts off and the crowd immediately erupts into a “Man to Man” chant before changing it to “Zion sucks.” Matthews screams out “Don’t say that name” before he nods for a moment, stopping taking it this scene in and the immense hatred the crowd has for him being in 4 Corners Wrestling. Matthews smiles for a moment just letting the audience get it all out of their system.
JOHNSON: ”Is it just me or is Darin Zion..errr.. Matthews a really strange guy?”
VASSA: ”He’s definitely got a bit of John Wayne Gacy to him, yeah.”
JOHNSON: ”Aren’t you afraid of clowns, Vinny?”
VASSA: ”I don’t want to talk about it.”
The lights within the arena go pitch-black.
“Welcome to my beautiful creation.
where the carcasses of children suspend.
This is my slaughterhouse of sadistic faith;
the divine cathedral of fetal skin.”

The sickening grinds of “Pelt of Innocent Flesh” start to roar throughout the arena. In a single spotlight hits the center of the stage. The spotlight remains empty for a few moments before Bob Fisher limps his way into the spotlight, his head cranked to one side as he gives an almost dumbfounded look at the audience. Bob stands there, looking around the arena – anger slowly growing on his face as the fans begin to boo. Its at this time that Dybbuk steps into the spotlight directly behind bob. Dybbuk’s mask is emotionless only his eyes showing. Bob looks back at Dybbuk waiting for his master to move forward. After a few seconds the pair start to make their way down the ramp – the spotlight following them as walk forward.
“The hooks slip through their soft, supple heads.
One by one I grab them from the heap.
Flayed ’til they’re skinless, lifeless, lubricated.
The echo of their screams sing like a gospel melody.”

Bob reaches the ring first and exits the spot-light, vanishing into the shadows. Dybbuk stands in front of the ring for a few moments just surveying the darkness before he climbs up on the ring apron. Dybbuk then climbs up to the second rope and stands there, intimidating all who see him. Stepping over the top rope dybbuk’s feet hit the mat with a loud crash. It’s at this time the lights come back on in the arena – revealing Bob to already be in the ring. Bob gets a demented grin on his face as Dybbuk walks over to him. He points for Bob to leave the ring, which Mr. Fisher does with haste. Dybbuk then slowly stalks his way over to his corner and waits for the match to begin.
JOHNSON: ”This dybbuk certainly has an intimidating element to his appearance doesn’t he?”
VASSA: He does. So does his manager. I saw on twitter earlier this week that he watched a prostitute die. Do you think that’s real? I don’t think that’s real.”

As soon as the bell rings it’s as though Dybbuk has been shot out of a canon. He meets Matthews in the middle of the ring and delivers a hard right hand before wrapping his hands around the throat of his opponent, lifting him into the air and launching him back into his own corner. Matthews bounces off the turnbuckle pads and stumbles awkwardly back towards Dybbuk who charges him and drills him square in the forehead with a running elbow smash knocking him down to the ground. Matthews bounces back up to his feet quickly but ends up walking right into a boot to the stomach and a snap ddt. Dybbuk immediately steps over top of Matthews and reaches down, wrapping his hands around Matthews throat and clamping down, dead lifting him up into the air and then slamming him back down to the mat violently.
Matthews takes the brunt of the impact as Dybbuk rolls over and pushes himself back up to his feet. Methodically he begins stomping on various pressure points before placing his boot square in the middle of Matthews chest, stepping across him and putting all of his weight down squarely on Darin’s sternum. Once across to the other side, Dybbuk turns around and leaps in the air, landing squarely across the chest of Darin Matthews with a double foot stomp. He then takes off at a brisk pace towards the ropes, bounces off and comes back at full speed, leaping and landing violently across the chest of Matthews with a running senton.

JOHNSON: ”Good lord that man is dominant. It’s like he’s fueling himself with all of the hatred and anger in the entire world.”
VASSA: ”What are you doing? Trying to narrate an emo teenagers life?”
Reaching down, Dybbuk pulls Matthews back to his feet and whips him into the corner. As soon as Matthews comes to a stop there, Dybbuk takes off running once again and delivers a brutal running yakuza kick to his opponent. He then backs up and leans over, placing his foot against the throat of Matthews, choking him until the referee comes and gets to a four count before Dybbuk releases the illegal choke leaving Matthews clutching at his throat. When the referee finally lets the action resume, Dybbuk continues on the assault, moving to his opponent and lifting him up to the second rope and setting his feet there. He then climbs the ropes as well and wraps his arms around Matthews waist, pulling backwards violently in an effort to pull off a second rope belly to belly suplex but Matthews somehow manages to hang on, leaving Dybbuk to tumble back awkwardly, bouncing back first off the mat.
Desperately, with Dybbuk down, Matthews leaps from the second rope and drops a leg straight across the throat of his opponent. He then rolls over onto his stomach and slowly pushes himself back up to his hands and knees before crawling over and mounting Dybbuk. Punch after punch is delivered to the masked mans face, Darin letting out a guttaral roar as he continues to land strike after strike until the referee steps in and counts to four before Matthews finally pushes himself back up to a standing position. Subconsciously his arms cradle his abdomen and chest which Dybbuk had done such extensive damage to in the early going of the match.

JOHNSON: ”Nice to see Matthews getting some offense in here. It was starting to look like another one of those nights where he was simply going to be out classed.”
VASSA: ”The night’s still young, Steve, and there’s plenty of time for Dybbuk to regain control of this match and put Darin Matthews away for good.”
Matthews, back on his feet, pulls Dybbuk back up and leaves a red welt across the masked mans chest with a knife edged chop. He’s quick to scoop Dybbuk up and then plant him down to the mat with a simple, yet effective, body slam. Matthews then positions himself with his back to Dybbuks downed body, takes a deep breath, and leaps into the air flipping over backwards and landing across the man’s chest with a nice standing moonsault. He thinks about hooking the leg for a quick pinfall attempt but instead thinks better of it, climbing back to his feet and backing up to the ropes, using them to leverage himself back towards Dybbuk where he drops an elbow across his opponents chest.
Continuing with the momentum, Matthews delivers a few strikes to Dybbuks head before standing up and screaming at the fans who had taken to chanting “ZION SUCKS!” over and over again. Slowly it’s as though you can start to see Matthews composure begin to melt away. He screams angrily at the fans once again and gestures to them rudely. In the meantime, outside the ring, Bob Fisher begins to smile wickedly. In the ring, Dybbuk has managed to push himself back up to his knees and has his attention focused on his opponent who is slowly losing his mind, seemingly.

JOHNSON: ”Matthews needs to focus if he’s going to capitalize on the good work he’s done over the past few minutes.”
VASSA: ”He does indeed if he wants to put this newcomer to 4CW away..”
JOHNSON: ”I think he got the message. That look in Matthews eyes says it all..”

Matthews had lined Dybbuk up perfectly, having finally regained some composure and managed to ignore the fans. As he did so he ran towards Dybbuk and tried to take his head off with a running shin strike to the head of Dybbuk but instead the masked man simply reached up with both hands and caught Matthews leg before it could do any damage. With Matthews leg in his hands, Dybbuk shakes his head no as Bob Fisher laughs maniacally outside the ring. Slowly Dybbuk stands up, freeing one hand to shove Matthews down to the mat. It doesn’t take long for Dybbuk to lift Matthews back up into the air, with his head dangling down precariously. DOWN SYNDROME JUMPING PILEDRIVER!
Standing back up, staring down at Matthews now lifeless body, Dybbuk pauses as Fisher applauds happily from outside the ring. Backing up to the corner, Dybbuk waits as Matthews slowly starts to roll over and push himself up to a kneeling position. As he does, Dybbuk takes off across the ring. THE SPECTRUM! Dybbuks shin connects violently with Darin Matthews forehead, knocking him down to the mat flat. Dybbuk rolls over and kneels beside the fallen body of Darin Matthews and places one hand across his chest. The referee, stunned for a moment, finally slides in and counts.


POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… DDDDDYYYYYBBBBBUUUUKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!
Standing up, Dybbuk waits as Bob Fisher rolls himself into the ring and raises his arm in the air in victory.
JOHNSON: ”Wow. Just wow.”
VASSA: ”Incredible debut from Dybbuk. Matthews gave it his all but that man is a force to be reckoned with.”
JOHNSON: ”I would say that the entire 4CW roster just got put on notice.”
VASSA: ”I don’t know that I’d go that far, Steve. But Dybbuk has certainly proven he’s one to keep an eye on..”
As Dybbuk and Bob Fisher celebrate over the lifeless body of Darin Matthews the scene fades backstage.

The camera cuts backstage, where Persephone Marquis is approaching her locker room door to prepare for the final main event of the night.
JOHNSON: “And here is Persephone Marquis looking to move on to greater heights after her Fate Championship defeat!”
VASSA: “Marquis has reigned supreme as Fate Champion, and I have no doubt that she will victorious in the first stepping stone towards the Pride Championship!”
JOHNSON: “She’s been on a rough patch lately, and given the caliber of her opponents tonight, pulling off a win will be that much sweeter!”
Persephone opens the door to the locker room and heads inside…
VASSA: “What the fuck!?”
Persephone is drenched in a dense, suspicious-looking amber fluid falling right onto her, along with a plastic glass that drops on the floor!
As she does her best to clean herself, she notices a note taped into the glass, which she picks up.
“To Persephone Marquis:
I know you love getting people pissed off, so how do you like getting… pissed on?”

The note is signed, as usual, with the now classic Trollface, but there is an additional line.
“P.S.: Calm down! Check the nearby table.”
Persephone looks around, and finds a table with another empty plastic glass, and a carton of apple juice. Smirking deviously, she slams the locker room door shut.
JOHNSON: “And here’s DA #TROLL GUY, doing his silly jokes again.”
VASSA: “Oh he’s done it now. He’s gonna get fucking murdered!”
JOHNSON: “Relax, Vinny, it was only apple juice. Nothing a shower and a laundromat can’t fix!”
VASSA: “I can’t wait for DA #TROLL GUY to sleep forever.”


POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
“Moves Like Jagger” hits the speakers as Thomas Rolls walks out from the back with a swagger in his step.
POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen… ‘The Disco King’… THOMAS RROOLLLL!!!”
Thomas moonwalks down the ramp as the fans watch in silence, not really sure how to react as he makes his entrance. Once at ringside, he climbs into the ring and strikes a disco pose.
VASSA: “What the hell is this?”
JOHNSON: “Thomas Roll, he debuted two weeks ago in the pre-show at Adrenaline fifty-six.”
VASSA: “Where the fuck did he learn to dance like that?”
JOHNSON: “He has some moves, doesn’t he?”
VASSA: “Yeah, all the wrong moves!”
“Rats Rule” by Die Antwoord feat. Jack Black booms out onto the speaker system as they kill the house lights.
POWERS: “And the opponent!”
Four spot lights center in on the stage as Max Kael swaggers out to the sound of boos. He doesn’t seem phased by the reaction he receives, his blue eye staring down at the ring as he stretches his arms on stage. As he makes his way down to the ring extra security arrives to make sure fans are unable to touch Max who continues to pay little to no attention to.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Arkham, Massachusetts, weighing in at two hundred sixty pounds and standing six feet, three inches tall… MAX KKAAEELL!!!”
Reaching the ring Max quickly climbs the stairs and slips between the ropes. He slithers toward his corner.
VASSA: “I hope Thomas can do better than Zi– Darin Matthews did two weeks ago.”
JOHNSON: “Come on Vinny, give the kid a break.”
VASSA: “Disco is dead, Steve. Disco is dead.”
JOHNSON: “Nonetheless, our next match folks will be between Max Kael and newcomer, Thomas Roll.”
In the center of the ring, the official checks with Thomas who in return strikes yet another disco pose, signaling that he’s ready to get down. Shaking his head, the official then looks to Max who stares back in return with a smirk on his face. After receiving the slow nod from Max, the official then throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

Pushing himself away from the corner, Max makes his way to the center of the ring. Coming to a stop, he looks across at Thomas who strikes yet another disco pose. Laughing softly, Max shakes his head before waving Thomas to approach him.
JOHNSON: “Moves like Jagger!”
VASSA: “Just stop. Don’t!”
Thomas then begins dancing in place as he slowly turns to face the crowd looking on. Instead of cheers or boos, the crowd floods the ring with laughter as the Disco King does his thing. After making a full revolution, Thomas then begins dancing his way to the center of the ring, taking his time.
VASSA: “When did we start running a dancing competition?”
JOHNSON: “We aren’t. It’s called putting on a show!”
VASSA: “I’ll wait.”
Stopping in front of Max, Thomas picks up the pace with his dancing, gaining a few whistles from the women in the crowd. Turning slowly, Thomas shows off for the crowd as Max looks on with a smirk on his face. Shaking his head in disappointment, Max runs his fingers through his hair. As Thomas finally turns to face him, Max kicks his foot up from the mat and plants it into Thomas’ stomach, forcing him to lunge over from the impact.
VASSA: “Thank you Max!”
JOHNSON: “I guess Max has had enough of this nonsense.”
VASSA: “We all have!”
Max then pulls Thomas’ head between his legs and applies a double underhook.
JOHNSON: “Max isn’t wasting any time, is he?”
VASSA: “Thomas has already wasted enough.”
Lifting Thomas into the air upside down, Max then drops him on his head with a kneeling double underhook ganso bomb.
VASSA: “I told you disco was dead!”
JOHNSON: “The Weapon of Mass Destruction!”
VASSA: “This one is over! Send his ass back to the gay nightclub!”
Nonchalantly, Max makes the cover as the official drops down beside them with the count.

VASSA: “Goodnight Disco King.”
JOHNSON: “Well that was rather quick.”
VASSA: “Just like every sexual encounter you’re ever experienced.”
“Rats Rules” hits the speakers as Max climbs to his feet, having not even broken a sweat. The official then steps in beside him, lifting his arm into the air.

POWERS: “Here is your winner, MAX KKAAEELL!!!”
Max then rips his arm away from the official before looking down to Thomas and cracking a smile. He then exits the ring and heads up the ramp without a single hesitation.
JOHNSON: “Well that’s one more in the books folks.”
VASSA: “Now Max can go back to doing more important things.”
JOHNSON: “This was a match, it’s his job. It is important.”
VASSA: “I’m just disappointed in Thomas. That’s all. AND I FUCKING HATE DISCO!!!”

We cut backstage somewhere in the Verizon Arena and we see Scott Stevens taping up his wrists and hands as he is preparing for his main event match later tonight against Eddie Valentine, Lauryn Wolfe, and Genevie Carlson with a shot at the Pride championship on the line. Stevens continues to prepare for his match as Gabriel Hartman enters the frame with microphone in hand.
HARTMAN: “Scott….Scott…..Scott!”
Hartman tries to get the Texan’s attention, but Stevens continues to go about his business.
HARTMAN: “Mother fucker. I know he sees me standing here.”
Hartman says to himself as Stevens tosses the tape onto a box and takes out his earbuds when he notices Hartman.
STEVENS: “What do you want Hartman?”
Stevens asks rather annoyed as Hartman is interrupting his preparation time.
HARTMAN: “I just wanted to get your thoughts on your upcoming match tonight?”
Hartman asks with a grin that would make the Chesire cat jealous and Stevens rolls his eyes.
STEVENS: “Make it quick.”
Hartman shouts while doing a fist pump which seems to annoy the Texan even further.
STEVENS: “Are you done?”
Stevens asks as he stares a hole through Hartman who stops his excitement.
HARTMAN: “Yes…sir.”
STEVENS: “Good, now let’s get this over with.”
Stevens says as Hartman begins the interview.
HARTMAN: “Tonight is a very big night for you isn’t it?”
Hartman asks and Stevens looks at him funny and simply shakes his head.
STEVENS: “Thanks for stating the obvious Hartman. The whole world knows that tonight is a big night for myself and my opponents because the victor will get a shot at Bryan Williams and the Pride championship.”
HARTMAN: “True, but what does tonight mean for you?”
Hartman asks Stevens and he takes a moment to answer.
STEVENS: “Redemption.”
HARTMAN: “Redemption?”
Hartman asks confused.
HARTMAN: “Why redemption?”
STEVENS: “Because a win tonight puts me in title contention and it also silences the critics in the back saying that I had lost a step because I was too focused on saving the planet than wrestling. This victory removes the stench of embarrassment that was left on me after I lost to Jace. This victory proves how dangerous and dominant I truly am, but the most important thing it shows is that certain people who cost me a match will soon get theirs.”
HARTMAN: “That comment I’m sure is referring to…”
Stevens cuts him off.
STEVENS: “You damn right I’m referring to Eli Carlson and Jair Hopkins!”
Stevens shouts as he grabs Hartman by his suit.
HARTMAN: “Hands off the suit! I got it 75% off at Men’s Warehouse!”
STEVENS: “If it wasn’t for those two I wouldn’t have lost to Caleb Houston. I had Caleb beat and those two cost me, and because of that I’m going to cost Eli’s wife a shot at the Pride championship since he doesn’t have the balls to face me. Maybe after I humiliate a basic bitch in the ring tonight she’ll open her purse and return his nuts so I can avenge the loss he cost me.”
Stevens rant is cut short by the sound of clapping as the camera turns to the side and shows Caleb Houston.
HOUSTON: “You had me beat? Is that right Scott?”
Caleb asked as he took a few steps toward Scott Stevens. The two were standing a few inches away from each other at this point. Gabriel Hartman motions for the camera to focus on the two so they won’t miss the coming events.
HOUSTON: “Scott, Scotty … you never had me beat. Not even close. Scott the only ground you gained last week at Adrenaline was what I gave you. See, I was bored by the way things had been going so far here in 4CW. I left those openings for you all night. Hoping you would capitalize, and show me that great Texas attitude of yours. But…. as I had predicted it was just words.”
As Scott began to talk Caleb raised his right hand and hushed Stevens. Beginning to talk over to him.
HOUSTON: “Shhh… Scott, just stop. We’re not going to play this game. Not here. Not tonight. The talking game ended a few weeks ago. The way I see it now it’s all about action. So while you’re standing there right now why don’t you shut me up. No not with your empty words. Use those fists of yours.”
As Caleb’s words penetrate Stevens ears the Texan can’t help but smirk.
STEVENS: “You would love that wouldn’t you, but I see what you’re doing. I’m not falling for your little game Caleb. As much as I would love to end your career right now I have more important things happening tonight like becoming the number one contender to the Pride championship.”
Stevens says as he extends his index finger and touches Caleb in the chest.
STEVENS: “And last time I checked that didn’t involve you.”
Stevens informs Caleb as he slowly pushes him back.
STEVENS: “But if you want to go after the match I have no problem shutting you up then.”
Smiling Caleb brought his right hand up to his face and ran his fingers across his beard. He couldn’t help but laugh as he listened to Scott’s words.
HOUSTON: “Let me ask you, what makes you think I’m interested in becoming a number one contender? What makes you think I’m even interested in becoming a champion? Honestly, I could care less about any of that stuff, It doesn’t make a difference to me at all.”
Caleb took a few steps closer to Scott.
HOUSTON: “But you know what… I hope you win your match tonight. Because I’m going to go out there tonight, and do my part to weaken the Champion up for you a little bit. Hopefully making your title match that much easier. Then, maybe, you’ll be able to bring the belt home. Enjoy it for a few weeks before I rip it right out of your hands, and drop it right in the trash where it belongs.”
Caleb stood there inches away from Scott staring him in the eyes, Ready for the next move.
STEVENS: “I don’t want your help or need it, you understand? I’ve beaten the champion before and I can do it again.”
Stevens informs Caleb as he steps closer and the two are toe to toe.
STEVENS: “And the only way you’ll be taking it from me is if Hopkins and Eli distract me again because without them you’re chances of beating me are mediocre at best.”
Stevens says before walking off.

The picture cuts back to ringside where a table stands perfectly center in the ring. On top of it, a white piece of paper rests alongside an ink pen. Beside the table on the side facing the announcers booth, Perry Wallace stands with his hand propped up on the top of a chair. With a microphone in his other hand, he surveys the crowd before looking down and setting his sights on the few members of security standing guard on the outside of the ring. Turning his attention back to the piece of paper sitting on the table in front of him, he pulls his hand away from the chair and taps his finger against the paper.
WALLACE: “In just three weeks Jair Hopkins, our 4CW Champion, will defend the championship at Winter Wasteland against a man that defied all odds placed in front of him at Fright Night. Out of the sixteen people put in qualifiers for the Warzone, only one prevailed and earned the right to challenge for the 4CW Championship. That man is Elijah Carlson.”
Picking up the piece of paper from the table, Perry holds it up in front of his face. After looking over it one final time, he raises the microphone to his lips.
WALLACE: “What I have in my hand in the golden ticket to the 4CW Championship. Jair Hopkins has been the 4CW Champion since Ante Up. His last defense, which I’m not too happy about, ended before the two ever made it to the ring. I’d like us all to have a short moment of silence to the fallen, lost but not forgotten, Dakota Smith.”
The entire arena goes silent as Perry bows his head, lowering the piece of paper and holding it by his side. After a long pause, “Motivation” by T.I. begins to play, interrupting the silence as boos ring out and The Prince and Princess of 4CW, Eli and Genevie Carlson walk out. Eli wearing an all black suit, and Genevie dressed in a formal black dress, with a small black veil pulled over her face. Gen signals from behind the curtain, rolling her eyes as a few member of the 4CW staff come out carrying funeral wreaths and an oversized ultrasound picture. She signals to the ring for them to set things up as she links arms with her husband and walks down to the ring. Eli holds the ropes open for Gen as she slides through them and he follows her. Gen grabs them both mics before going over to hug Wallace and give him a kiss on the cheek as the funeral display is set up, clearly for her and Eli’s dead, unborn child. She holds the mic up to her lips to speak.
G.CARLSON: ”I would say I’m sorry for interrupting your moment of silence for Dakota, but I promise what I have to say is much more important Daddy. You see I know this is supposed to be a contract signing, but really who wants to see Jair sign away his title already to my amazing husband? So I made an executive decision and with the funds I raised from my charity event from earlier today, I threw together this last minute funeral, for not only Eli and I’s unborn Child. But for your grandchild, Daddy.”
Genevie gestures dramatically to the display behind her and runs her hand along the ultrasound picture, a look of sadness on her face before putting the mic back up to her lips.
G.CARLSON: ”This isn’t our baby of course. We never got a chance to really see what it looked like. I just got this off a Google Image Search. You get the idea. We deserved this baby and I think instead of wasting our time over some contract signing, we should say a few words in memory of the most beautiful child who never got a chance to live.”
Genevie hung her head and leaned her head on Eli’s shoulder, and wrapping her arms around him in a very dramatic display. Encouraging someone else in the ring to speak up at this time. Like she can no longer speak as she starts “sobbing” on Eli’s suit jacket.
As “Self-Preservation” by Kutt Calhoun interrupted the emotionally-strung moment in the ring, the crowd popped to the sighting of the 4CW Champion carrying a ‘bouncy’ vibe as he appeared on ramp, taking in the view inside the Verizon Center. Bouncing up and down a few more times, Jair sped down the ramp quickly, sliding right into the ring, wasting little to no time as he got back to his feet, glaring at both the Number One Contender, Eli Carlson, his wife, Genie and the Owner Perry Wallace. He requested for a microphone as his theme died down. Getting one, he tugged the 4CW Championship that was around his waist as he smiled for a moment at Eli and Genie before gazing back to the audience.
The fans popped, letting him know with cheers how good things were for the moment. Hopkins attention went back to the Contender and his wife, again smiling.
HOPKINS: “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy? Damn Perry, you got some spoiled-ass kids round’ here man. What is it, “Take Your Kids To Work” Day?”
Hopkins sighed, holding up his index finger. Biting his lower lip, Perry’s face turns slightly red as he keeps himself from chuckling at the comment.
HOPKINS: “No need for the bad quality print-out of the 4CW Championship. It’s right in front of you. See?”
Hopkins pointed to his title once again.
HOPKINS: “Ya might wanna take ya Smartphone and snap a couple shots of it while ya can because this is as close as you or your Hubby gon come close to it again. There will be no more touching or glaring this close. So, get it in! Here’s ya moment, say cheese!”
From the moment Jair’s god-awful entrance music interrupted the time that he and Genie had decided to dedicate to the loss of their child, Eli felt his blood pressure spike. To make things worse the champion paraded around like he deserved the adulation of the fans. Beyond that it was like he believed deep down inside that what they wanted, and what they thought, mattered. It didn’t and by the time Jair was done talking Eli had had enough.
E.CARLSON: ”You have a lot of nerve to come out here and interrupt a ceremony meant to remember an innocent, unborn child. But, truthfully, I wouldn’t expect anything more out of your kind. You’ve been handed things your entire life. You wake up one morning and Daddy decided to abandon mommy. Probably got one of them strawberry side ho’s and your mom, she just wasn’t suckin the dick good enough anymore, eh? Crack is a hell of a drug. After Daddy left mommy was to lazy to get off her ass and get a job. She’d rather sit at home eating mayonnaise out of a tub and collecting food stamps and cash assistance. Everything you are you learned from her. It’s obvious. Why do any real work when good, honest, hard working people like myself and Perry will do it for you and support your pathetic asses hmm?”
Eli shook his head as the attitude of the crowd shifted angrily in his direction. To call it a chorus of boo’s would have been an understatement. Shocke by his words, Perry takes a step back.
E.CARLSON: ”The fact that a thug like you still has a place in this company is beyond comprehensible to me and it just goes to show what a good heart that Perry Wallace has. Look at the things you’ve done in the last month, oh great hero and champion of 4CW. Explain to us all how you’re not behind bars. Not only did you have the audacity to toss Dakota into a casket and set it ablaze, but you had the nerve to lay your hands on an innocent woman in my wife. A woman who had lost her child only a few days earlier. Murder. Assault. How you still aren’t locked up in a federal supermax facility goes to show just how blatantly corrupt the justice system is in this country.”
Eli removed his arm from around his wife’s shoulders and stepped towards the champ. The two had barely been able to control themselves and keep themselves from ripping each others throats out for a month now. Undoubtedly the pot was a half second away from boiling over once more.
E.CARLSON: ”But it is what it is and since law enforcement is too afraid to deal with a criminal who can only be seen at night if he smiles, I’ll be the one handing out justice. I’ll be the one teaching you a lesson in respect. I’ll be the one cracking the whip. It’s the only way someone like you will ever learn. And when I’m done, on December 28th, you’ll know your true place and you won’t say a word as I walk out of Winter Wasteland as the new 4CW Champion.”
Genevie had had enough. She stamped her foot and jumped in between the two men just as it seemed a fight was about to boil over. The fans booing at her interruption. They clearly just wanted to see a fight.
G.CARLSON: ”How dare all of you! You should BOTH be ashamed. In case you failed to notice, this is no longer a contract signing. This is no longer about YOU. This is about ME, and that poor little innocent soul that lost it’s life.”
She stepped up to Jair, glaring and looking over him with disgust.
G.CARLSON: ”So unless you have something nice to say about the REAL reason we are out here tonight. You can take your ass to the back and chill. I mean can you cool the urge to be a thug for FIVE minutes? Especially after the charity event I ran earlier tonight. Out of the goodness of my heart. Selling T-Shirts with the words Jair’s Life Matters?! This is how you show your appreciation. I expected a lot more out the great 4CW Champion way to make yourself a racial stereotype. Always trying to ruin shit for us good, kind hearted, white people. I let you putting your hands on me go, but you coming out here and disrespecting mine, and the man who will make you his bitch so bad at Winter Wasteland you’ll be calling him Master’s, dead child?”
Genevie put the mic down and shook her head before suddenly slapping Jair across the face. His head turned from the impact and she jumped out from between the two men. Walking over to the blown up Ultrasound picture and pretending like nothing happened, stroking it with a smile on her face ignoring everyone else in the ring.
WALLACE: “Now hold on just a second.”
Perry interrupts as he steps forward, placing himself between all three.
WALLACE: “This was supposed to be a contract signing, not the beginnings of race war. Next think you know Cashe will be out here with his rebel flag and swastika on his chest.”
Shaking his head, Perry looks down for a moment before turning his eyes upward to Genie.
WALLACE: “Time and place, Genie. It’s unfortunate what you’ve been through, but we’re in the middle of something here.”
Picking up the piece of paper from the table, Perry holds it up, shifting his eyes back and forth between it and Genie.
Hopkins just shook his head, looking at Eli and his wife, Genie before laughing to himself as Perry held up the Contract as the fans were still booing Eli and Genie.
HOPKINS: “Eli might wanna watch the next shit he say outta his mouth tho Perry. He is in D.C. Saying words like Crackin a whip, he might not like the result being where he is. All I’m sayin man. I know I’m a thug, but what are they? I’m a thug that’s a born hustler and a modern-day saint, not to mention a damn Champion. But yeah, let’s put pen to paper so I can wreck Genie’s Hubby and his soul.”
Hopkins called for the pen so he can sign.
WALLACE: “You like that!”
The yell from Perry draws a cheer from the hometown crowd. With a smirk on his face, he pulls an ink pen out from the inner pocket of his jacket before extending his hand in Jair’s direction.
WALLACE: “There’s one thing missing from this little contract. Let’s see what you have to say first, champ. Is there any particular type of match that you would like to request? One that doesn’t involve flames given recent events?”
HOPKINS: “Champ’s Choice huh? Long as it doesn’t involve lighter fluid, matches and a casket? Gotcha.”
Hopkins takes a moment to think as he stares at Eli across the table.
HOPKINS: “Let’s do it up FCA-Style. In case ya’ll don’t follow along, Falls Count Anywhere. That way if you wanna bring ya hooligans, they can get it too without screwing up the match. If ya wifey want another preview, she can get it too. Everything’s allowed and in the end, nothing you do Elijah will get this title from around my waist. You a talented dude as I’ve told you before but Winter Wasteland will be the rise and fall of Elijah Carlson!”
Hopkins drops the mic as he took the pen and scribbled his signature onto the paper before shoving it over to Eli as he stood back a few steps. Turning his attention to Eli, Perry raises the microphone to his mouth.
WALLACE: “Falls count anywhere. What do you say, Eli?”
Refusing to allow his face to show any emotion, Eli stared directly at Perry, a thousand different thoughts racing through his mind. After a few long moments of silence, Eli took a deep breath and composed himself but before he could speak Genie stepped up, her face displaying all the rage in the world.
G.CARLSON: ”Champions choice?! Daddy! He ruined MY funeral ceremony for my poor, sweet baby. Your grandchild! He put his hands on me. He.. He assaulted me! He shouldn’t get a choice! You don’t get to hit a white woman and choose what you want. ARREST HIM!”
Her face was a mix of fury and shock as she placed her hands on her hips and stared at Perry expectantly. Before things could get worse Eli placed his right hand on Genie’s waist and pulled her back gently before stepping up and raising the microphone to his lips.
E.CARLSON: ”You expect me to agree to that, Perry? Honestly? If that’s what the champ wants then screw it. That’s what the champ gets.”
The crowd didn’t seem to have expected Eli to give in so easily and for a brief moment cheered at his acceptance of the stipulation as he signed his name upon the contract. That is, until he continued speaking a moment later.
E.CARLSON: ”It’s what he gets as long as he agrees to a few of my own demands. See, my wife isn’t wrong. He came out here and disrespected the memory of our child. He put his hands on her, assaulted her. Hell, there’s even a case to be made to say that he murdered Dakota. He doesn’t deserve a choice. He deserves to be locked away in a cage like the filthy mut that he is.”
Turning his attention from Perry, Eli’s gaze met Jair’s straight on.
E.CARLSON: ”You want a falls count anywhere match? Fine. You can have it. IF you agree to apologize to my wife for disrespecting her and the hard work she put in to honoring our child.”
He let that demand sink in before turning back to Wallace.
E.CARLSON: ”And as long as he agrees to have his crew of felons banned from the arena. We’ve all seen how they lurk around backstage, looking for the opportune moment to rob the first middle class person they come across. I don’t want them anywhere near the arena. If he apologizes to my wife and agrees to keep his cronies, who have no business being anywhere near a 4CW event in the first place, away, we’ve got a deal.”
Hopkins points, confused as hell to what Eli was saying. Laughing atrociously loud, Hopkins grabbed the microphone back off the table.
HOPKINS: “Crew of felons? Hey man, I don’t know if you got short-term memory or anything but you the one who likes calling for backup every time you knee-deep in shit. My bros have no part in this. They handle the business aspect of things. Stop being a scaredy-cat and take it as is. I’m not apologizing to ya wife fam. She the one that screwed up. Go in the back, ask the production crew for footage of last Adrenaline and you can see ya damnself what occurred. I don’t do apologies.”
Hopkins shook his head.
HOPKINS: “I don’t know what your grade of vision is but I ain’t no asskisser or a begger and damn sure no apologist. So you can forget that agreement bruh. My signature is on there, take it or leave it!”
Hopkins dropped the mic as he glanced at Perry before exiting through the ropes, standing there and looking at Eli as he caressed his title. His anger spiking, Eli grabbed the pen off the table and scribbled his name on the contract. Picking up the contract off the table he shoved it into Wallaces hands and pointed at him angrily before returning his attention to Jair once more. He pointed at the title and then motioned to his own waist as Genie’s face contorted in rage.

Once more the camera cuts to backstage, showing former XTV Champion Adrian Tanner Jr. walking down the arena center hallway.
JOHNSON: ““The Arizona Assassin”, making his way to his locker room!”
VASSA: “Who would have thought that he’d take the XTV title from none other than Jason P. Davidson at Fright Night?”
JOHNSON: “That just goes to show, Vinny, everyone in 4CW has just what it takes to be championship material!”
VASSA: “I’m sure Sativa Nevaeh would like a word right now!”
JOHNSON: “It makes no difference though. A former Champion is still a former Champion!”
Adrian opens the locker room door, and upon entering notices something particular.
TANNER: “What the hell?”
In a small table sits a blue and orange plastic toy gun, fully loaded and ready to shoot. Tanner picks it up and examines it.
JOHNSON: “Hey, that’s a Nerf gun!”
VASSA: “Shit, now I want one of those!”
JOHNSON: “Why would you want a Nerf gun?”
VASSA: “I dunno, but they look cool as hell.”
Adrian notices a note next to the Nerf gun, which he picks up.
“To the Arizona Assassin, Adrian Tanner Jr.:
Good luck on our match! As a token of my esteem, please accept a weapon worthy of the Arizona Assassin.”

Yet again, the Trollface is the only signature to the note.
JOHNSON: “Mariano Fernandez, one more time.”
VASSA: “Okay, THAT one was funny.”
Looking at the camera and making his BANG! motion with the Nerf gun, Adrian lets out a brief chuckle before closing the locker room door.


POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
The lights fade through the arena and begin to flicker as “Little Monster” by Royal Blood plays through the speakers. Johnny steps out onto the stage dressed in an orange jump suit. He 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.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Detroit, Michigan, weighing in at two hundred twenty-three pounds and standing six feet, one inch tall! He is ‘The Mouthpiece of Mayhem’… JOHNNY EEVVIILL!!!”
After a moment, Johnny begins a somewhat fast jog down the ramp to the rhythm of the music all while speading his arms out like a plane and spinning around a bit. Once he 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. Johnny begins talking and hyping up the audience as he lifts his arms into the air and sways them up and down. As his music dies down and the lights return to their normal state, he hops off the ropes and gets ready for his match.
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: “We have a brawl in the making right here folks.”
JOHNSON: “Given these two and their personalities, I’m actually surprised that this wasn’t booked as a no holds barred match.”
VASSA: “I just hope the official is able to contain this thing because things may get a little hectic inside of those ropes.”
JOHNSON: “Tonight will be a turn around for one of these men. Both have been in sort of a slump as of late.”
VASSA: “Slumps can fade away in the blink of an eye. You just have to wait for the right opportunity to present itself.”
With both men standing in their corners ready to get things underway, the official quickly calls for the bell to start the match.

Before the bell silences, both men erupt from their corners and charge towards one another. Colliding in the center of the ring, Evil connects with a stiff right hand across Raab’s jaw. Returning the favor, Raab swings with a right hook, pounding his fist into Evil’s face, knocking him off balance. Raab then moves in closer and fires away with a series of boxing punches to Evil’s body before finishing off the little combination with an uppercut that puts Evil flat on his back.
Lifting his foot up from the mat as high as he can, Raab then slams it down towards Evil’s stomach. Rolling out of the way, Evil avoids the stomp to the gut as Raab’s foot connects with the canvas. Kicking his foot up, Evil plants it into Raab’s stomach, forcing him to stumble backwards, giving him a small window of opportunity to climb to his feet. With Raab lunged over from the blow to the gut, Evil leaps towards him, wrapping his arm around his head and driving it into the canvas as he connects with the jumping DDT.
Rolling Raab over to his back, Evil then climbs on top of him before hitting him viciously with forearm shots to the face. Knocking Raab into a daze, Evil then grabs ahold of his head and raises it inches above the mat before slamming it back down as hard as he can. Standing tall, Evil then pulls Raab to his feet before whipping him to the furthest corner. As Raab crashes into the corner, his feet lifts off the mat and as they touch back down, Evil is right there with a running clothesline!

JOHNSON: “Ouch!”
VASSA: “Johnny rung Raab’s bell with that clothesline in the corner.”
JOHNSON: “If that jumping DDT didn’t do it already, that clothesline sure did!”
Pulling Raab away from the corner, Evil spins him around before leaving him in his place and climbing the corner. Leaping from the top, Evil raises both hands above his head and comes down with a double axe handle.
VASSA: “Oh no, Johnny is in trouble now!”
JOHNSON: “Raab has him right where he wants him!”
Before Evil can get close to connecting with the double axe handle, Raab reaches up and wraps his hand around Johnny’s throat. Evil’s eyes light up as he gets caught by Raab. Squirming to break free, Evil slams the back of his fist into Raab’s head over and over, but is unable to break Raab’s hold. Raab then pulls Johnny in closer and places his other hand on his back before lifting Evil into the air and planting him into the canvas with a chokeslam.
JOHNSON: “Raab laid him out with The Chokinator!”
VASSA: “And out of nowhere!”
JOHNSON: “This might be it, Vinny.”
Dropping to his knees, Raab makes the cover as the official rushes over for the count.

Popping his shoulder up from the mat, Evil breaks the officials count. Not wasting any time, Raab pushes himself up to his feet before stepping over Evil and running to the ropes. Coming back on the rebound, Raab jumps up and comes down with an elbow drop across Evil’s chest. Rolling over to all fours, Raab then locks onto Evil’s head and begins striking it with knee shots. After nearly ten knees to the head, Raab then pushes himself up and then pulls Evil to his feet.
Turning Evil around, Raab locks both arms around Evil’s waist and then lifts him off his feet, dropping him on his head with a German suplex. Keeping his hold on Evil, Raab rolls over to his side before getting back to his feet, pulling Evil up as well. In a burst of energy, Raab then plants both feet into the mat before lifting Evil off his feet and falling backwards, throwing evil across the ring with a release German suplex. Landing on his head, Evil’s momentum forces him to roll over, face down to the mat.

VASSA: “That Chokinator didn’t quite do the trick but Raab is determined to break Johnny right there in that ring.”
JOHNSON: “Raab doesn’t need no holds barred regulations to inflict damage onto his opponents!”
Back on his feet, Raab crouches down and slowly makes his way over to Evil as he begins to push himself up, as if hunting him. Once Evil is on all fours, Raab moves in and locks onto his head with both hands, jerking him up to his feet. Wrapping both arms around Evil’s body, Raab then lifts him into the air and squeezes the life out of him with a bearhug. Fighting to break free, Evil begins throwing wild punches at Raab’s head, hitting him with lefts and rights. Ignoring the blows to the head, Raab continues to squeeze, tightening his hold as each second passes. In a last ditch effort, Evil grabs onto Raab’s head with both hands before slamming his head down, hitting Raab right between the eyes with a headbutt.
VASSA: “Keep fighting Johnny! You can do this!”
JOHNSON: “I think it’s going to take more than that.”
As Raab doesn’t release him, Evil slams his head down again, hitting Raab with another headbutt. Still keeping his hold on Evil, Raab then begins shaking him violently before falling back and driving Evil’s head into the canvas.
VASSA: “Holy shit!”
JOHNSON: “Be careful Raab, we’ve already seen one person lose their life in the ring from a move like that.”
VASSA: “Hey, that would be Johnny you’re talking about! Talk about karma if that were to happen.”
Evil’s body falls over to its side as Raab slowly pushes himself up and rolls over to his knees. Looking down at Evil’s lifeless body, Raab then makes the cover and hooks Evil’s leg as the official rushes in with the count.

VASSA: “He’s alive!”
Kicking out at the last split second, Evil breaks the officials count leaving Raab in shock. Shaking his head, Raab leans up to both knees before rubbing his eyes with both hands and then looking back down to Evil.
JOHNSON: “He is alive but Raab can’t believe it.”
Rising to his feet, Raab paces the ring. Yelling to himself, Raab ignores Evil who is still down on his back. Snapping out of it, Raab then rushes in and leaps into the air before coming down with a leg drop across Evil’s throat. As Raab stands, he pulls Evil up and then locks onto his wrist with one hand before using all of his weight to pull Evil forward and throw him to the ropes across the ring. Hitting the ropes, Evil bounces off and returns on the rebound. As he does, Raab steps forward and lifts his leg into the air, aiming his foot for Evil’s face as he closes in.
JOHNSON: “Here comes the big bo–“
VASSA: “Not yet!”
Dropping to the mat, Evil slides underneath Raab’s leg as it passes overhead until coming to a stop behind Raab. Popping up to his feet before Raab turns around, Evil grabs onto the Monster’s shoulder and whips him around. Swinging upward, Evil nails Raab with a European uppercut to the chops, popping his head back from the impact. Jumping up, Evil then grabs onto Raab’s head with both hands and as he falls back down, he pulls Raab’s head along with him. Evil curls his legs, holding his knees to his chest as he hits the mat and slams Raab’s face onto both knees.
VASSA: “Wake up call!”
JOHNSON: “Double knee face breaker!”
Stumbling backwards, Raab hits the ropes as Johnny quickly pushes himself up to his feet. Coming back on the rebound, Raab stumbles into a flying knee from Evil, dropping him to his back. Standing to his feet, Evil looks on as Raab slowly begins to climb to his. In a daze, Raab lunges forward with a right hook but Johnny ducks underneath and steps in behind Raab. Evil then applies a straight jacket before jumping up and pulling Raab down onto his knees with a backstabber as he hits the mat.
JOHNSON: “Lethal Injection!”
VASSA: “Talk about a back adjustment!”
Evil then grabs ahold of Raab and locks in an arm trap crossface.
VASSA: “Oh no, this could be it!”
JOHNSON: “Johnny has him locked in the Detroit Death Clutch!”
Raab fights to break free, yelling and grunting, as Evil cranks down on the pressure. After a few moments pass, Raab struggles to break free even more, this time locking himself into the move even worse than before.
VASSA: “Oh my Jesus that looks painful!”
JOHNSON: “I don’t think Raab is going to tap.”
A minute passes as Evil holds Raab in the move. Raab’s fight slowly dies down before he’s had enough and begins slapping the canvas with his free hand.
JOHNSON: “There it is! Raab is tapping out.”
VASSA: “It looks like you thought wrong, Steve.”
Ignoring the submission, Evil continues cranking down with the crossface as the official stands to his feet. Prying Evil off of Raab, the official finally breaks the hold as Evil laughs hysterically. “Little Monster” then hits the speakers as Evil rises to his feet. Grabbing Evil by the wrist, the official then raises his arm into the air as the bell finally sounds.

POWERS: “Here is your winner via submission… JOHNNY EEVVIILL!!!”

The video feed cuts backstage where Maximillan Kael can be seen wearing a black three piece suit and #970000 red tie while pacing back and forth as though he is deep in thought. After a moment he looks up toward the camera, his pale blue eye narrowing as his grimace darkens. He takes a moment to straighten out as a disappointed Max Kael fold his arms.
MAX KAEL: ”Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Maximillian Wilhelm Kael and I’ve got a few things to say to you 4 Corners Wrestling. See, ever since I have arrived here the powers that be have found it amusing to lay, at my feet, the worst pieces of garbage I have ever had the.. The.. Insult of sharing the ring with. Thomas Roll? Darin? I’ve already forgotten the first piece of garbage this company rolled down the slaughter ramp.. What the fuck is wrong with this place?”
Shaking his head Max begins to pace again, his hands slipping into his pockets.
MAX KAEL: ”I came here to one last final challenge, for one last final conflict before I fade away in obscurity. I came here for a purpose and so far this has been one terrible let down after another. Back in H-… excuse me, back where I came from.. I was facing men and women like JPD, Tara and Stevens. I was teaching the next age of super stars how to suck their own thumb because they were greenier than Kermit the Frog’s pigsticker. I.. I was somebody to be respected, feared and appreciated.”
Pressing his lips together Max raspberries the air, which is to say he makes a flagellant sound breaking the somewhat serious air around him, that smile slipping across his lips again.
MAX KAEL: ”..and I don’t really care. Gotcha! Haha, Send me your weak. Send me your pathetic. Send me those who fail to show up to this show! I’ll take the easy wins. I’ll warm myself by the cheap heat.. See, I don’t give a shit how I get the wins. I don’t give a flying fuck if none of you appreciate me, care about me or are even worried about me. It doesn’t really matter to me at the end of the day because the only person here who I care about.. Already has shown that he cares about me. The only person in this whole, sad, lumbering federation that brings the sun to my night has already looked me in the eye and told me that he knows I am here. Acknowledged our unfinished business.. And in his particular way.. Promised that our paths will meet.. With or without 4CW’s blessing.. OOOOH YEAH! PARTY TIME!!”
Pulling a noise maker out of his pocket Max leans back and gives out a huge hoot while he spins the crank on the noise maker causing it to let out a loud, annoying clacking sound. Max throws the noise maker aside and pulls out a party popper, yanking on the small string as confetti and string fly high into the air.
MAX KAEL: ”..Merry Christmas to me! Or Happy Hanukkah! Or Happy Holidays, whatever you freaks out there celebrate because I’ve already gotten the only gift I care about! Michael Best, the best/worst brother a guy could ever ask for.. And while we might not be home for the holidays you can pace your Best Bet that it’s going to be a.. A wonderful, wonderful time here. Just the Best.. heh-heh.. Just… just the Best. You see what I did there? Heh-heh.. Oh man.. Just the Best.. God damn.. I’m amazing.. Alright, I’ve taken up enough of your precious time, I’ll see you all soon enough! More throw away, hack, D-list talent if you please! 4CW.. Man..this is some great retirement community! Tata!”
Max exits camera right as the scene slowly fades away.


POWERS: “The following headline match is scheduled for one fall!”
‘The Failsafe’ by Misery Signals hits the PA system. The lights in the arena slowly dim down. As the beat picks up Caleb steps through the curtains. Wearing a black hoodie, and a pair of black and gold fight shorts. His head is bowed and focused on the ring in front of him. His arms are hanging down to his sides his hands shaking as he slowly makes his way down to the ring. His stare breaking.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, weighing in at two hundred seventeen pounds and standing six feet, one inch tall… CALEB HHOOUUSSTTOONN!!!”
As he makes the turn at the bottom of the ramp he removes the hood from his head and slowly unzips the sweat shirt. Tossing it out into the crowd before climbing up the steps. Walking to the center of the apron he grabs the top rope and springs himself into the ring. Once he is in the ring the lights slowly being to turn up. His head is still slightly bent his eyes focused on the crowd as he makes his way around the ring testing the ropes. Making his way to the corner he crouches down and places his right hand on the mat awaiting the beginning of the match.
POWERS: “And the opponent!”
“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 and the 4CW Pride Championship slung over his shoulder. The song continues to play, as Bryan stands on the top of the ramp. With his head down, Bryan holds up his title for all to see. 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 the 4CW Pride Champion, “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. Bryan turns to the nearest turnbuckle, climbing up onto the middle rope and once again holding his title for all to see.
VASSA: “Back in action for the second time tonight, Bryan Williams!”
JOHNSON: “Although he was the special referee earlier in the opening match, this is his first and only match of the evening.”
VASSA: “He didn’t exactly just officiate earlier tonight, did he?”
JOHNSON: “You do make a good point.”
VASSA: “I always do! And tonight the Pride Champion faces off against Caleb Houston!”
JOHNSON: “Caleb has been making some waves since returning to 4CW. Tonight is a big match for him, championship or not.”
VASSA: “Speaking of which, this match will not be for the championship folks! Bryan Williams will defend it at Winter Wasteland against the winners of our double main event later on tonight.”
JOHNSON: “Even without the championship on the line, a win tonight could lead to big things for Caleb in singles competition.”
VASSA: “Eddie Valentine scored a win over Bryan and look where it landed him.”
JOHNSON: “He’s in one of the double main events!”
VASSA: “Motherfu–“
JOHNSON: “Watch your mouth!”
Williams leans over the ropes and hands the championship to a member of the ringside crew as the official checks in with Houston. After getting the okay from Houston, the official turns to Williams who returns the favor with a nod. With both men ready, the official wastes no more time and calls for the bell.

Shrugging his shoulders, Caleb then steps forward from his corner with his sights set on Williams. Stopping in the center of the ring, Houston waves for Bryan to approach him, and he does. As the two stand face to face, they stare into one another’s eyes as the tension slowly builds between them and the noise level in the arena grows louder and louder.
VASSA: “There’s no denying the mutual respect between the two leading up to tonight’s event.”
JOHNSON: “I’m just interested to see how it goes down. I’ve seen many friendships end after a match over the years I’ve been in this business.”
VASSA: “I guess we’ll have to wait and see how the loser of tonight’s match feels after the show.”
Extending his hand, Bryan holds it in front of Caleb for a handshake. Caught off guard, Caleb slowly cuts his eyes downward, looking at Bryan’s hand. After a short pause, Caleb slowly extends his, locking hands with Bryan as the two share a handshake in the center of the ring.
VASSA: “I think that answers your question, Steve.”
JOHNSON: “I think you’re right, Vinny. I think you’re right.”
VASSA: “Well good for them!”
In the blink of an eye, Caleb locks onto Bryan’s wrist and then whips him towards the ropes. Hitting the ropes hard, Bryan bounces off and comes back on the rebound into Caleb who spears him down to the canvas. Mounting himself on top of Bryan, Caleb hits him with a solid right to the side of the head. Drawing back for another punch, Williams quickly throws his arm up, giving Caleb the opportunity to lock onto it. Rolling Bryan onto his stomach, Caleb then grabs ahold of his arm and applies an armbar.
JOHNSON: “Once that bell sounds, it’s every man for himself!”
VASSA: “You said it.”
As Caleb cranks down on the pressure, Williams throws his head back, slamming it into Caleb’s face and breaking the hold. Quickly crawling away, Bryan pops up to his feet as Caleb slowly rises to his, rubbing his face where Bryan slammed his head. The two then slowly circle one another in the center of the ring. Making the first move, Caleb shoots in for Bryan’s leg but comes up empty handed as Bryan sprawls and lands on top of Caleb’s back.
Pushing himself up, Caleb lifts Bryan on top of his back. Quick to react, Bryan slams his arm against Caleb’s elbow, taking his arm out from under him and forcing Caleb to fall face first into the canvas while driving his shoulder into it. Pushing himself up, Bryan then begins stomping on Caleb’s shoulder over and over slamming onto it with a standing elbow drop. Pulling Caleb up from the mat, Bryan locks his arm around Caleb’s head and grabs the back of his pants, lifting him up and over quickly with a snap suplex.
Popping up instantly, Bryan then runs to the ropes and as he comes back on the rebound, he leaps feet first and drives them both into Caleb’s shoulder with a drop kick. Rolling over and crawling over Caleb, Bryan hooks the leg as the official races over with the count.


JOHNSON: “Only a one count!”
VASSA: “Bryan is doing quite a number on that shoulder of Caleb’s.”
JOHNSON: “At least it isn’t below the belt like he did to Cashe.”
On his feet, Bryan pulls Caleb up from the mat and locks onto his wrist with both hands. Pulling Caleb in, Bryan drives his shoulder into Caleb’s shoulder he’s been working on. Letting out a loud sign, Caleb tries to pull himself away but before he can, Bryan pulls him in and slams his shoulder with his once more. Still locked on Caleb’s wrist, Bryan pushes Caleb back and pulls him in once more but this time, Caleb connects with a punch from his free hand, breaking Bryan’s grip.
Quickly grabbing his shoulder, Caleb is obviously feeling the pain in it from Bryan’s assault. Bryan then lunges forward but Caleb ducks and as Bryan contacts him, Caleb stands tall, flipping Bryan over his back and dropping him to the canvas. As Bryan pushes himself up to all fours, Caleb quickly wraps both arms around his waist, holding him down as he begins lifting his knees rapidly and slamming them into Bryan’s head. After connecting with ten knees to Bryan’s head, Caleb pulls him to his feet and spins him around.
With Bryan in a daze, Caleb nurses his shoulder for a short moment before wrapping both arms around Bryan’s waist. Still favoring his shoulder, Caleb fights through the pain and lifts Bryan off his feet, driving him backwards into the canvas with a German suplex. Rolling over to his stomach, Caleb then crawls over Bryan for the pin as the official slides in for the count.


VASSA: “Bryan kicks out!”
JOHNSON: “I don’t even know how Caleb was able to pull off that German suplex with the shape that shoulder is in right now.”
VASSA: “He’s obviously in a world of pain with it but it’s going to take more than that to stop him.”
Rolling over to his back, Caleb holds onto his shoulder as he releases a loud grunt from the pain he’s enduring. Slamming his fist onto the canvas, Caleb then pushes himself up, feeling the pain more in more with the weight holding himself up. After standing tall, he grabs a handful of Bryan’s hair with one hand and the side of his head with the other, rolling him over to his stomach and pulling him up to his knees. Holding Bryan’s head in place with his injured arms hand, Caleb then draws back with his other before taking a swing for the fences and clocking Bryan in the chops with a solid punch.
He then pulls Bryan up to his feet and pushes him back a few steps before lunging forward with a thundering blow. Quick on his feet, Bryan counters with a mini superkick to Caleb’s stomach, forcing him to lunge over from the impact. Taking a few steps back, Bryan then steps forward and hits Caleb with a superkick to the shoulder, forcing a loud grunt out of him. Locking onto Caleb’s wrist, Bryan then whips him to the nearby corner with all of his might.
As Caleb crashes into the corner and quickly bounces off, Bryan steps in and greets him with a mini superkick to the stomach again, forcing Caleb to lunge over. Taking a step back and then forward, Bryan hits him with a superkick to the mouth, standing him straight up. Stepping in, Bryan then pulls Caleb’s head down and locks his arm around it before grabbing onto the back of Caleb’s pants. Lifting Caleb upside down and vertical, Bryan then drops down to one knee and slams Caleb’s head onto his elevated knee with a brainbuster.

VASSA: “Caleb is out cold!”
With Caleb on his back in front of him, Bryan brushes the hair from his face and looks down to him for a short moment. After the pause, Bryan then makes the cover as the official sweeps in with the count.

JOHNSON: “There it is folks, this one is in the books!”
VASSA: “Now we get to sit back and see how this match will affect their friendship.”
JOHNSON: “I don’t think it will be that bad. They had a good, clean match.”
“Unsung” hits the speakers as Bryan slowly rises to his feet side by side with the official. Grabbing onto Bryan’s arm, the official then lifts it into the air as the bell sounds.

POWERS: “Here is your winner, by pinfall… BRYAN WWIILLLLIIAAMMSS!!!”
Pulling his arm away from the official, Bryan slowly makes his way to the corner where a member of the ringside crew hands him the Pride Championship. Taking it in one hand, Bryan then climbs the corner before holding it in both hands and raising it high above his head.
VASSA: “Two more matches in the lineup and I hope Bryan keeps an eye out for these.”
JOHNSON: “I’m sure he will because after tonight, we’ll have two people on the books for challenging for that Pride Championship he’s holding right now.”
VASSA: “Enjoy the moment Bryan because in three weeks, they’re going to be gunning for you.”

Backstage a camera view peaking around the corner of the second floor hallway shows Sativa Nevaeh talking to Dyslexic Dave. Zooming in, you notice Sativa giving Dave directions while pointing her finger throughout the hallway. Sativa’s voice gets a bit louder, giving the audience and viewers a better idea of what she is talking to Dave about.
NEVAEH: “Remember, If you spot Johnny Evil lurking about, give me the signal. I’ll be hiding right behind the door right there…”
Sativa points a motion once more in the direction of where she’ll be hiding, causing the person filming the footage to take a step back and hide behind the wall. After a moment, the cameraman peeks out again, just in time to catch Sativa giving Dyslexic Dave a pat on the back.
With that, Nevaeh turns around and begins walking toward the room in which she’s about to hide. As she starts to pass, the camera is jolted down and Johnny Evil comes into view…

EVIL: “Konrad, if she would have seen you, you wouldda’ fucked up this whole operation!”
Johnny takes a gander over the electrical box in which he and Konrad are hiding behind as he watches Sativa make her way into the room and close the door. While she does this, Dave looks down at the phone and begins to slow type the message. Due to his dyslexic nature, he seems to be having a hard time and is easily distracted.
Creeping out from behind the electrical box Johnny does a stealth walk to the door in which Sativa Nevaeh had just entered. Once he gets to the door he looks to the side and grabs one of the backstage props wedging it under the door handle to trap her inside. As he does, Dave notices this and tries to call out, but before he can Evil rushes him and drives an elbow into his head before tossing him down the flight of stairs directly in front of him.
Dave topples down the stairs, rolling like ball causing thud after thud until he hits the bottom of the landing as Konrad zooms in. Evil continues the assault by rushing down the landing and beginning to stomp the shit out of Dave’s head,neck and back.
Due to the commotion, Sativa is alerted, and you can hear the rattling of the door knob, but she is unable to get out as Konrad pans the camera around to the door. You hear the commotion and Evil slandering Dave as he continues his attack before Konrad pulls the camera back into the direction of what is happening.
It’s at this point, backstage personnel and security begin to flood the landing and the stairway, pulling Johnny Evil from Dave. Evil tries pushing them off as he drops down and wraps his hands around Dave’s neck beginning to choke him.

EVIL: “You wanna’ get in my business, mother fucker?”
As Johnny starts to get restrained, Perry Wallace comes rushing down the hallway.
WALLACE: Evil, are you fucking nuts? What in the fuck is your problem… leave the dyslexic guy alone!”
Johnny starts elbowing a couple of the personal that is restraining him as he begins shouting.
EVIL: “I warned you what would happen! This is on you Wallace!!”
EVIL: “Give me what I want. I want Sativa at Winter Wasteland for the XTV Championship. I’ll put adoption papers on the line, I don’t give a damn… I don’t plan on losing!!”
As the security and personnel continue to restrain Evil, he continues to fight them off, swinging his arms free as he rushes forward and gives Dave one final punt-kick to the side of the face before being tackled. This causes Perry Wallace to frantically look around…
WALLACE: We need medics, we need an ambulance!!
As Johnny is forcefully held to the ground, Konrad zooms his camera in to show the anger drawn out upon Johnny’s expression…
EVIL: “I told you, this was on your hands Wallace! If that fucker dies, he dies!! YOU GOT NINETY MINUTES. If you don’t give me what I’m leaking the footage before Adrenaline goes off the air…”
The scene fades back to the ringside area as order is still struggling to be restored.
VASSA: “What in the hell? Is Johnny Evil crazy??”
JOHNSON: “I don’t think it’s the fact that he’s crazy! The man has been going through hell ever since the Bad Company fallout show!”
VASSA: “Bullshit, that guy is a lunitic! Now I can see why he’s locked up having to look over his shoulder and worry about dropping the soap!!”
JOHNSON: “Will you stop, it’s not even like that Vassa. I’m more intrigued to know what this footage is Evil is threatening to leak before the show is over…”
VASSA: It’s probably a load of bull! I doubt he has footage of anything. Perry Wallace wouldn’t have hired Jack Vaughn to tell Evil to kill Maddox, it’s just not logical?”
JOHNSON: “We shall see and for the love of god, would you get that cigar smoke out of my face?”

VASSA: “We’ve had an exciting night so far and we still have two more Pride Championship qualifying matches.”
JOHNSON: “I’m still a little lost on these qualifying matches. Is Bryan Williams going to be defending at Winter Wasteland in a triple threat of sorts?”
VASSA: “That’s a good question, Steve. These qualifying matches were announced out of nowhere. Williams has still been getting heat from Cashe following Fright Night. You would think those two are going at it once again.”
JOHNSON: “It seemed that way but as you see with the booking, Cashe isn’t even one of the participants and we have eight total.”
VASSA: “It was a curveball, that’s for sure.”
JOHNSON: “These two qualifying matches are pretty stacked though.”
VASSA: “Oh that shit is fire!”
JOHNSON: “What does th–“
”Raw” by Bad Meets Evil hits the speakers throughout the arena as boos begin bouncing off the walls.
VASSA: “We haven’t heard this tune in a while.”
JOHNSON: “We hear it now and here comes the boss himself!”
Walking out onto the stage with a grin on his face, Perry Wallace is welcomed with displeasure from the fans in attendance. Overlooking the crowd, he laughs to himself before shaking his head and looking down the aisle towards the ring. Along the way, the fans on each side of him badmouth him, some even throwing trash in his direction.
VASSA: “The fans sure do love him, don’t they?”
JOHNSON: “That’s one way of putting it, I guess.”
As he reaches the ringside steps, Perry slowly ascends to the top and steps onto the apron. Looking over his shoulder, he smirks at the crowd before dipping through the ropes. Walking towards the announcers booth, he calls out to a member of the ringside crew to bring him a microphone. Once he has one in his hands, he slowly back steps to the center of the ring where he stops and overlooks the entire crowd once more.
VASSA: “I wonder what he has to say.”
JOHNSON: “He picked a convenient time to come out, right before the two qualifying matches.”
VASSA: “Any time is convenient for him. He does pay the bills after all.”
Waiting for the fans to quiet down, Perry stands in the center of the ring patiently. Once the noise level has lowered, he slowly raises the microphone to his lips.
WALLACE: “Washington DC… our nation’s capital. It’s been a good while since a 4CW event has taken place here. It’s no secret that I’m what you would consider a patriot. I love this goddamn country. There isn’t another out there as great as the USA. Rest in piss to the fallen who failed to survive in Canada and Mexico. What did you expect? There’s a reason you stayed out of this country and that’s because 4CW made you feel unwelcomed. Good riddance.”
Pacing the ring, Perry lowers the mic for a short moment as he thinks over his next words in his head. Stopping in his tracks, he raises the microphone once more.
WALLACE: “As much as I love this country, the time has come for 4CW to extend its footprint into other regions of the world. No, no… we’re not heading north or south, at least not yet. The fans still haven’t recovered from the travesty that they’ve recently been subjected to. We’re headed east, across the Atlantic in three weeks to Newcastle, England as you all are aware of. This is a big step for 4CW. As much as I would love to celebrate our three year anniversary with you all here in the greatest country ever, we have a show to put on for the entire world!
In three weeks we will see Jair Hopkins defend the 4CW Championship against Elijah Carlson. We will witness Sativa Nevaeh defend the XTV Championship. We would see the Team Champions, Ascended Supremacy, defend the championship but as you all know, we don’t particularly have any challengers on hand. Anyone from the back care to come out and make a challenge? I’ll wait.”

Backing up to the center of the ring, Perry pauses for a moment as he overlooks the crowd.
WALLACE: “You all can talk trash because I ‘bought’ my way into this business but at the end of the day I am a promoter. Like me or not, there’s no denying that I’m good at what I do. If I wasn’t, 4CW wouldn’t have lasted three years. New promotions open one day and close weeks later. Some even close and then open back up and pretend to be a dominant force in the business before even having a show. I’m sorry, but I have more time on the shitter while 4CW has been in business than a lot of these new companies have had their doors open. I promote big matches that the fans want to see.
Which brings me to my next point. While the Fate Championship was defended two weeks ago, we do not currently have a contender given the qualifying matches scheduled for later in the evening. However, I want to do something different. I want to give the fans a chance to decide our current Fate Champions fate if you will. With Winter Wasteland scheduled for three weeks down the road, be on the lookout for an announcement regarding this in the next day or two via social media. Let’s have some fun with this!
We have one other championship that has yet to be mentioned. As you may have noticed, we have not one, but two fatal fourway qualifying matches coming up once I clear the ring. The winner from each match will face Bryan Williams at Winter Wasteland for the Pride Championship!”

The fans pop with cheers at the official announcement. With a smile on his face, Perry walks along the ropes, looking over the crowd, pleased with their reaction.
WALLACE: “The best person from each match will get their opportunity as we travel to Newcastle. Two of the best people available to step up to the champ, Bryan Williams. It doesn’t get any better than that folks!”
Everyone including Perry Wallace snap their heads towards the entrance way as Jason Cashe steps out with a microphone already to his mouth. Sounding off at his displeasure of Wallace’s booking AND his announcement.
Shaking a finger in the air it was apparent that Cashe wasn’t happy about how things appear to be. Power walking to the ring, he gets ringside and stands at the base of the stairs. Instead of climbing he takes a deep breath and calms himself down.
CASHE: ”You know what? I better not. Because if I come in that ring and ask the question I’m going to ask and you say the wrong thing? Ohhh weeeee I’ma put my paws on you! I mean… I don’t see any security. Nobody to protect you. So for your sake as the Bawse… I’ll ask you out here.”
Stepping off to the side of the stairs, Cashe stays to the side of the ring. His question comes as the audience fades from their cheers and hollers.
CASHE: ”You want to talk about how you’ve done great things with 4CW. How we’ve had this and that and lasted three years but who the FUCK has been there since day one… Okay, day two but STILL! I’ve not dragged along like a slug, like Lord Raab has. Or like Roxi was in her time here. I’ve had levels, up and down levels of success under THIS fucking Federation! So tell me. Tell me how because I lose ONE match at Fright Night because of a botched Double Moonie that I am NOT even under consideration for a rematch with our “glorious” and small shorts wearing Pride Champion, Bryan “Bridal Shower” Williams? Tell me, explain it to me Wallace… Heh, I’ll wait.”
Propping his elbows on top of the ring apron. Cashe watches Wallace, wanting him to answer his long winded question.
WALLACE: ”It’s funny that you ask that. You had your one on one shot with Williams at Fright Night. One on one, only after a certain someone decided to tuck tail and run away along with his manager who paid for his victories. Just you and Williams in the ring, and the infamous double moonsault that you terribly failed at executing. But you know what, Cashe?”
A few seconds pass and Cashe looks confused. His eyes and eyebrows raised up as his shoulders shrug and he looks around at the live audience.
CASHE: ”You really waiting for me to say what? I mean, the fuck guy? WHAT bitch, WHAT? Speak and do so knowing the wrong set of words could gain you a Nation’s Capital sized ass whooping right now!”
Grinning, Wallace slowly walks towards the ropes in front of Cashe. Leaning forward with his arms propped on the top rope, he raises the microphone to his mouth, locking his eyes on Cashe.
WALLACE: “There’s a reason that I don’t have any security here with me at ringside. I don’t need it. I don’t need to have strangers overlooking everything I do because people like you want to lay hands on the mother fucker signing your paycheck. I have the one thing I need. You know what that is?”
CASHE: ”Ugh… Seriously? Is this a guessing game? Should I make a prediction as to what you need? Okay let me guess, hold up.”
Putting a few fingers in his beard, he scratches as his eyes look up in the air. His “thinking cap” was on and then he had a light bulb moment.
CASHE: ”Ohhh I got it! You need a new fucking hairdo because THAT shit? Looks like you keeping Soul Glo in business!”
The fans who get the reference laugh as Perry Wallace shakes his head not at all amused by Cashe’s belittling comments.
WALLACE: “By all means, sit this one out at Winter Wasteland. You’ve accomplished enough with the truth you’ve uncovered about Frankie. What I have isn’t a new hairdo. You wish your hair looked this good you snaggle-tooth son of a bitch. I have a peace of mind. That’s what I have. So sit there and say you’ll do this and that, but I see things quite differently.”
CASHE: ”If I looked at shit from your “different” I’d have been defeated and retired forcefully a long time ago. So are you saying I don’t get my match? I don’t get Williams again? Title or no Title, doesn’t really matter to me as long as HIS ass is in THIS ring.”
Shrugging at the Boss, Jason Cashe wants answers. Popping up onto the ring apron he gets a little closer to being inside the ring.
WALLACE: “As much as folks may disagree, I’m actually a good man. I know you hate to admit it, but, you actually did me a service when you uncovered the truth about dirty officials and the corrupt individuals behind them pulling the strings. Christmas is right around the corner and I have to be honest, I just may have some Christmas spirit of my own. Answer something for me. What’s the one thing you want for Christmas this year, Cashe?”
CASHE: ”All I want for Christmas is my two front teeth! My two front teeth!”
Singing as cheerie as ever Cashe bounces side to side. The fans laugh but again, Perry Wallace doesn’t look amused. Wallace’s frown then turns upside down as he lights up with joy.
WALLACE: “It’s funny that you say that. I should have seen that coming from a mile away. You know 4CW carries dental, right? Maybe you should look into that.”
Wallace leans over the top rope, winking at Cashe looking up from below.
WALLACE: “In all seriousness, I’m in a giving mood this holiday season. You helped discover a dark secret that needed to have some light shed onto it. I thank you for that. We heard the accusations from the Jett but he just couldn’t provide the actual evidence. Kind of hard to when he’s attached to his mother’s tit all day. For your good deed Cashe, I want to reward you with something for Christmas. After all, we all saw how you were screwed over by the Pride Champion himself earlier in the night.
Later on tonight we will have two qualifying matches. The winners from those matches will then go to Winter Wasteland with a 4CW Pride Championship match against the defending champion, your pal, Bryan Williams. Here’s what I’m going to do.”

CASHE: ”Go on… Look Wallace I don’t much care to be out here at ringside if I’m not putting hands to faces. So can you move it along? I mean REALLY! Do I get the match or not?”
Taking a step back from the ropes, Wallace rubs his goatee with his free hand as he thinks over Cashe’s question. After a few short moments of silence, he steps forward and leans against the top rope, slowly raising the microphone inches below his mouth.
WALLACE: “Merry Christmas.”
CASHE: ”So that’s a yes? You sure? You ain’t sick is ya? No renege right?”
WALLACE: ”Whoa! That felt borderline racist right there!”
CASHE: ”Don’t be stupid, racist is someone else’s gimmick. Not mine. I need to hear the words. I need you to SAY that I am in the match at Winter Wasteland. Confirmation if you will but I need to HEAR those words…”
WALLACE: ”Ugh FINE! You are in the Pride Championship match at Winter Wasteland. There! Happy? Jesus fucking Christ!”
Giving Wallace a thumbs up from outside the ring, Cashe had nothing more to say. Tossing his mic over his shoulder he rounds the ring and heads up the entrance ramp.
WALLACE: “Happy Holidays Scrooge!”

Cut to backstage again, where Matthias Barrows strides decidedly down the hallway to his locker room, Black Betty slung upon his shoulders. A stagehand runs past as Barrows makes a swinging motion at him with the lead pipe, and goes on his way.
JOHNSON: “Matthias Barrows made his impact in 4CW, and is now in the very main event!”
VASSA: “With two drug dealers in town, one has to wonder how long it will be since him and the Deranged Duchess and XTV Champion Sativa Nevaeh lock horns!”
JOHNSON: “Whenever that happens to be, I’m sure there will be HIGH expectations.”
VASSA: “An obvious and lame pun.”
Barrows reaches his locker room and opens the door, making his way inside. Inside, he notices a little bag on the locker room table. Picking it up, he notices it’s stuffed with green. Opening it up, he takes a sniff, and snarls in disgust.
BARROWS: “This shit isn’t weed! My product is WAY better!”
He then looks at a note on the table, sitting next to the baggie he picked up.
“To the Weed Warrior, Matthias Barrows:
Welcome, old friend! It’s so great to see you again! Please accept this bag as my welcome gift – the finest oregano in town!”

One more time, the note has the Trollface as its only signature.
JOHNSON: “That’s all three opponents DA #TROLL GUY has pranked now!”
VASSA: “After this match, I promise you, DA #TROLL GUY is going to be the new Maddox Lucien!”
JOHNSON: “He’s clearly not afraid, and that’s his way to show it!”
Matthias Barrows, now angry, tosses the baggie of oregano into the trash, violently.
BARROWS: “Real funny Troll Guy, now here’s blood in your eye!”
He swings Black Betty at the camera, shattering it and cutting to static.


VASSA: ”It’s time for our Double Main Event ladies and gentlemen!”
JOHNSON: ”It’s not really a double main event though, is it?”
VASSA: ”Sure it is. That’s what the card says.”
JOHNSON: ”But they’re not happening at the same time. This is really the pre-main event. It’s the appetizer leading up to the main course.”
VASSA: ”Or maybe this is like breakfast… and then the next match is like second breakfast.”
JOHNSON: ”Second bre-… what the hell are you on about Vincent?”
VASSA: ”You know… breakfast. Then second breakfast. Elevenses. Lunch. Afternoon tea. Dinner… Supper.”
JOHNSON: ”I don’t even know how to begin to tell you to shut the hell up.”
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.
VASSA: ”Well maybe I should listen and shut up because I just don’t know what to say about Scott Stevens that hasn’t been said in the last month on multiple occasions.”
JOHNSON: ”He’s really been struggling lately that’s for sure. Perhaps tonight is the night he can turn things around. In all honesty all of the competitors in this first portion of the main event have had their fair share of struggles.”
The cheers intensify as the chorus hits the speakers, drawing out the man from Texas.
POWERS: ”Introducing at this time, coming to us from the Great State of Texas, by way of Houston, Texas.”
Walking down the aisle, he fists bumps some of his fans while raising a fist at a few of the more vocal bashers.
”Standing at six feet, six inches, and weighing in at two hundred and fifty-six pounds…”
As he finally gets to the ring, he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and stares down at his opponent.
An icy glare and the throat slash gesture his only actions as he drops to the mat.
VASSA: ”That stone cold stare isn’t as scary as it was when I first saw him.”
JOHNSON: ”I wouldn’t let him hear you say that. He’d hit you once and you’d never stop jiggling.”
Lights out.
JOHNSON: ”What?! Jesus Christ, Vinny!”
VASSA: ”Scares me every time, shutting the damn lights off like that.”
The four screens that make up the entrance set for 4CW click on one at a time to static. After a couple of seconds a human hand appears within the static of each of the four screens. Then one by one, with a heavy crashing sound each of the screens appears to be smashed by an unseen force, when the fourth one is smashed the lights of the arena flash back on and standing in a spotilght in the middle stage is none other than Eddie Valentine. Just then the opening of “Renegades of Funk” by Rage Against the Machine begins to play out over the arena. Valentine has a smirk on his face, a cocky and confident look on his face and walks with a strut that matches that. He is wearing a t-shirt which reads ‘Grab’em by the Fupa’ in 1980’s style neon font — the GRAB’EM and FUPA are enlarged so you can read them. Closely behind is none other than his entertainment lawyer, Chris Wrigley. Wirgley makes sure to stay a few steps behind at all times clutching his briefcase tightly and looking around threatening to serve anyone who gets to close to him with a lawsuit.
POWERS: “From the Entertainment Capital of the World, Atlantic City! Standing five foot ten inches, and a slim trim one hundred ninenty seven pounds, he is the two thousand and fifteen Pie Eating champion of the worrrrrrrrrrrrrrld! Here is EDDIE VVAALLEENNTTIINNEE!!!”
Just as Valentine hits the ring with Barnes, Valentine heads to the ring ropes and removes his t-shirt which he tosses into the crowd for some lucky kid to have. At the same time Barnes tries to make sure that the referee is on the up and up, even trying to get him to sign a wavier or something. Slowly Valentine takes off his sunglasses and soaks in the spotlight one last time before his music begins to fade and the house lights return to normal.
VASSA: ”See, now Eddie Valentine is a guy I can get behind. Look hos sweet those sunglasses are.”
JOHNSON: ”He’s coming off a tough loss on the last edition of Adrenaline to Matthias Barrows but of any of the eight competitors vying for a spot against Bryan Williams, Eddie might be the most deserving after beating Williams early in November.”
“Cigarettes and tiny liquor bottles
Just what you’d expect inside her new Balenciaga
Vile romance, turned dreams into an empire
Self-made success now she rolls with Rockefellers”

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

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Seattle, Washington, weighing in at one hundred twenty-six pounds and standing five feet, six inches tall, she is the “Unabashedly Unrefined”… LAURYN WWOOLLFFEE!!!”
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: ”How much do you think it would cost for me to have Caleb Houston killed and then to have Lauryn accept me as her sugar daddy?”
JOHNSON: ”You know you’d have to actually spend money on her, right? You can’t just buy twinkies and funnel cakes and hope for the best.”
The beginning beat of “Killing You Hoes” by Trina begins to play as the lights dim, only white and pink lights shine move out over the crowd.
“Ah ah ah yep yep yep
The baddest bitch is back,
I’m back part 2, part 2
I’m reloaded and I’m killin you hoes”

Genevie appears from behind the curtain with a smirk on her face as she looks around the crowd, drinking in the boos as she does her signature stripper dance, twirling around as she shakes her ass. She completes a rotation as she bites her lip and winks at the crowd making her way down the ramp.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at 136lbs, she is THE BOSTON GENIE…GENEVIE CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”
“I don’t care what a bitch think or how a hoe feel
Cause ain’t nann one of you hoes payin my bills
And ain’t nann one of you hoes fina buy me a crib
And ain’t nann one of you hoes fina get me a whip
I know I must make a lot of ya’ll hoes sick
And all I can tell you hoes, get used to it bitch!”

Genevie carries her head high as she walks down the ramp with confidence, with slow and steady steps. As the song plays she walks around to the side of the ring, hopping up on the apron. She adjusts her SnapBack as she blows the fans a kiss, listening to the boos get louder. This only makes her smirk grow wider as she climbs through the middle ropes, and standing up in the ring as she runs her hands down her body.
“And don’t you cross that line cause I get hot quick
And if you do it’s gonna be me & u up in this bitch
And I’m gonna show you why they call me the baddest bitch”

She does one final twirl to show off her ASSETS, rolling her eyes at the jealous fans as she goes over to the ropes and leans against them, checking her nails as the referee comes over and she dismisses him to get away from her because he is a peasant and she is The Princess. He backs off and she just continues to smirk as the music dies down.
VASSA: ”Such a beautiful woman. Too bad her vagina has a body count now.”
JOHNSON: ”That’s going a bit far, Vinny.”
VASSA: ”Well it’s true.”
JOHNSON: ”Maybe, but Genie has a mean streak to her which she put on display at Fright Night. I think you very well could be looking at your future Pride champion right now.”
VASSA: ”Maybe. I think it’s more likely that she’s harboring terrorist inside her cavernous vagina.”
JOHNSON: ”Seriously… you’re just asking for housewives with rolling pins to beat you to death.”

The moment the bell sounds, Genie starts jawing at Lauryn who is directly across the ring from her. Mockingly, Genie rubs her head and juts out her lip bringing up memories of what she had subjected Lauryn too at the end of the match at fright night. The two women slowly start to step towards each other, pointing their fingers and scowling. Stevens and Valentine choose to stay out of it for the moment, enjoying the argument developing in the ring. A stinging slap from Lauryn to Genie is the first shot taken in the match, snapping Genie’s head to the left. Eddie’s mouth forms into an O shape as he raises a hand to cover it. Stevens, across the ring from Valentine, chuckles and shakes his head. They clearly don’t mind seeing Genie being slapped in such a fashion either. A moment later, Genie’s snaps back with a slap across Lauryns face and she delays no longer, grabbing a handful of Lauryns hair and slamming her down to the mat.
Lauryn, grabbing the back of her head, rolls out of the way and scrambles back to her feet. Genie, in immediate pursuit, backs her up into the corner and delivers a stiff chop across the chest of Lauryn. Wolfe turns to the side before being shoved back into the corner. Angrily, she shoves Genie back, giving her the separation she needed to lower her shoulder and dive out of the corner, spearing Genie to the mat. Immediately Lauryn scrambles up Genie’s body and mounts her, delivering forearms to the face of the former Fate champion.
Not wasting anymore time standing around, Stevens and Valentine find an empty space of ring to meet in and begin trading blows. It’s not the best strategy for Valentine as he’s the smaller man by far but he survives the first few exchanges and manages to duck underneath a wild swing from Stevens, moving to focus on the right knee of Scott Stevens which is protected by a hefty brace. Stevens expects it, however, and swivels quickly enough to catch Eddie off guard with a big clothesline, knocking the man flat onto his back. Quickly, Stevens drops an elbow across the chest of Eddie Valentine, causing the man to convulse on impact and clutch his chest in pain.

VASSA: ”After some mind games early on the action has been hot and heavy with all four competitors”
JOHNSON: ”Hot and heavy… Vinny this isn’t a porn shoot.”
VASSA: ”Unnnngggghhhh don’t put those thoughts of Lauryn in my headddOHHHH!”
JOHNSON: ”Schoolboy pin attempt by Eddie on Scott Stevens!”
Indeed, Eddie managed to roll Scott up and puts all of his weight down trying to keep Stevens from powering out.

Having escaped Lauryn Wolfe, Genie dives and breaks up the pinfall attempt almost immediately after the two count. A bit dazed and in pain from the blows that Lauryn had delivered, Genie instead sets her sights on Eddie Valentine. Trying to catch his breath a look of relief crosses Eddie’s face as he recognizes he no longer has to deal with the big man who had nearly taken his head off with a clothesline. It doesn’t take long for him to realize he’s really not any better off having the former Fate champion coming after him as she kicked him in the stomach and then brought him down to the mat with a quick snap suplex. Back up to her feet, Genie pulls Eddie back up by his hair and then wraps her arms around his waist, lifting and tossing him down to the mat with a belly to belly suplex, showing off her feminine strength.
Seeing an opportunity to keep her momentum going, Lauryn turns her attention from Genie who had slipped away from her to Scott Stevens, who was incensed that he had nearly taken the defeat in a cheap way like a schoolboy roll up. Wolfe, trying to use her quickness, charges at Scott Stevens who has, as he is known for, scouted his opponent perfectly. Recognizing that she would try to use her speed, Stevens side steps the smaller woman at the last second and allows her to go crashing into the corner turnbuckle. Stumbling out of it backwards, Lauryn walks right into the waiting arms of the big man from Texas, who wraps his arms around her waist and executes not one german suplex, not two german suplexes, but three german suplexes before letting her go. Stunned, Lauryn rolls to the nearest rope and begins to pull herself up. As she is nearly back to a standing position, Stevens charges looking to deliver a vicious clothesline but Wolfe has him scouted this time and drops down, pulling the top rope with her and sending Stevens spilling over it and down to the outside of the ring.
In a moment of desperation, Lauryn grabs the top rope and uses it to vault herself over the top rope. She connects with a flying cross body to Stevens who hadn’t regained his balance after taking his tumble, being knocked down to the mat outside the ring. The fans cheer gleefully at the aerial display that Lauryn had just put on.

VASSA: ”It’s just back and forth action here tonight in the first half of our double main event.”
JOHNSON: ”At this point I think it would be impossible to tell who is going to move on to Winter Wasteland to compete for the Pride Championship.”
VASSA: ”Well ya don’t say, Steve. Great insight there.”
JOHNSON: ”Eat another bearclaw, Vinny.”
Wolfe and Stevens both work their way back to their feet. Lauryn is quick to place a dropkick to Stevens right knee, buckling him to a kneeling position. Feeling the momentum shift in her favor she bounces on her toes before hopping up onto the ring apron. She takes a few step backwards and then runs a few steps forward before leaping off and hooking her arm around the head of Scott Stevens, looking to spinning ddt him into the security barrier. Stevens, however, scouts it and uses his strength to toss Lauryn out into the crowd before he himself collapsed against the barrier, trying to catch his breath.

Back in the ring, Genie has Valentine ground and is going to work on him with repeated foot stomps to various parts of Eddie’s body. Valentine, trying to avoid the strikes, rolls and then crawls to the ropes, forcing the referee to make Genie allow him some separation. Reluctantly she backs off at the referees assistance. When she closes in on him again after the referee allows the match to continue, Eddie catches her with a stiff forearm to the jaw, stumbling her backwards. He then pushes her into the ropes and whips her across the ring. Genie rebounds and Valentine telegraphs his movie, bending over too early in preparation to toss her over his back. Genie meets him with a stiff kick to the chest standing him straight back up. Closing on him quickly, Genie grabs both of his ankles and pulls his feet out from under him, causing his back to slam off the mat. She’s quick and effective at rolling him over and applying Boston Strong, her own personal version of the Boston crab. Caught right in the center of the ring, Valentines face shows just how much pain he’s in as he searches for a way out of the hold. The ropes are too far away and she’s got the submission hold wrenched in tightly. Anxious, the fans cry out not wanting to see the self proclaimed Princess of 4CW walk away with the win.
Outside the ring, in the crowd, Lauryn has recovered. Unfortunately Scott Stevens has essentially made it there himself. Wolfe sees what is happening in the ring and charges forward, leaping up onto the security barrier and then across to the ring apron, leaving Scott Stevens behind. Valentines hand is raised in the air, it’s clear he’s a half second from tapping out as Lauryn leaps up to the top rope and uses it to springboard herself towards Genie, catching the woman squarely in the jaw with a springboard heel kick that breaks the submission hold and sends Genie tumbling to the mat.
Not wasting any time, Lauryn rolls Eddie over onto his back and hooks the leg.


In the knick of time, Valentine manages to kick out. Lauryn, in shock, looks at the referee with pleading eyes, begging him not to tell her she didn’t get the three. The ref waves her off and tells her the match is not over as Eddie, doing everything in his power to get a moment to recover from the damage that’s been done, crawls over to the near corner and begins pulling himself up. Lauryn, seeing Eddie in the corner, charges and leaps to deliver a forearm smash to his face only to have Eddie scoot out of the way at the very last second, leaving her to bounce roughly off the turnbuckle pads. As Lauryn turns around to focus on Valentine she’s met with a springboard enziguri that drops her to the mat. Running quickly to the ropes once more, Valentine springboards off them again and flips, landing across Lauryn’s abdomen with a perfect moonsault.
Back in the ring Scott Stevens has set his sights on Genevie and has decided to use his superior strength to his advantage. Pulling her up by her hair, Stevens lifts Genie into a fireman’s carry position and then drops her down across his knees, her ribs colliding with them brutally with a beautiful firemans carry gutbuster. Deciding to try and marr Genie’s beauty a bit, Stevens delivers numerous knees to the face with his right knee that’s protected by the bulky brace. Crying out in pain, Genie tries her best to get away from Stevens but the big man is relentless. He pulls her up by her hair and hits Debbie Does Dallas, a brutal european uppercut that, upon connecting, becomes clear it has left Genie with the lights on and nobody home.

VASSA: ”Stop hitting my future wife, damn it, Valentine!”
JOHNSON: ”Future wife? Does she know she’s your future wife?”
VASSA: ”Look. These things take time, Steve. And if Eddie keeps hitting her in the head it’s going to take a lot longer.”
JOHNSON: ”I need a higher dosage of xanax to deal with you tonight.”
Continuing to show off his power, Scott Stevens positions Genevie perfectly and tosses her over his head with a pump-handle suplex. He’s quick, or at least as quick as an old dude his size can be, to get back to his feet and set his sights on her again. Pulling herself up to her feet at the ropes nearby, she gasps for air and shakes her head, trying to shake the cobwebs free. Stevens charges and once again is left to go tumbling out of the ring as Genie drops and pulls the top rope down. She collapses in the nearby corner with her back resting against the bottom turnbuckle.
At the same time in the ring, Lauryn is being waylaid by Eddie Valentine who has been putting on a seemingly endless display of aerial ability. From springboard kicks and flips to top rope frog splashes, Eddie Valentine has shown just how talented he is at the expense of Lauryn Wolfe. Trying once more to display how skilled he is he leaps to the top rope only to have Wolfe find a burst of energy and catch him off guard with a shove, sending him tumbling down to the floor outside the ring.
Opposite of Lauryn in the ring, Genie has pulled herself back up to a standing position. Lauryn, catching her breath, turns and sees Genie and makes eye contact with her. The two women shake their heads and move to the center of the ring, squaring off and exchanging right hands back and forth much to the delight of the crowd.

VASSA: ”Let’s be honest, folks. This is what we’ve been waiting to see unfold all night. Genevie Carlson and Lauryn Wolfe, one on one in the middle of the ring.”
JOHNSON: ”There’s no question there’s bad blood between these two. Genie’s had the upper hand for a while now but if you ask me, tonight is Lauryn’s night. Control yourself, Vinny.”
At the same time Scott Stevens and Eddie Valentine climb back up onto the ring apron and prepare to get back into the ring. And at the same time Lauryn and Genie sense what is coming and break off from engaging one another, delivering simultaneous superkicks to the jaws of Scott Stevens and Eddie Valentine, sending the sprawling on the floor outside the ring once more.
Lauryn turns back from having superkicked Scott Stevens off the ring apron to be met with a rake of the eyes by Genie. The referee, however, doesn’t spot it as he’s busy checking on the condition of the two men who had just tumbled once more to the floor. Sensing that the match is hers, Genie taunts the crowd and receives a chorus of hateful boos in response.

VASSA: ”I’m so sick of the Royal Family and their dirty tactics.”
JOHNSON: ”Weren’t you just praising them two weeks ago?”
Valentine, having recovered enough, slides back into the ring and goes after the celebrating Genie. He catches her off guard with a few clubbing blows to the back before grabbing her by the arm and whipping her towards the ropes. Genie, however, holds on and instead sends Valentine running to the ropes where he collides with Scott Stevens who, once more was trying to get back into the ring and had been standing on the ring apron. Valentine, colliding with him, knocks him down to the floor again. Poor guy. On the rebound, Valentine sprints back towards Genie and tries to clothesline Gen who ducks under. On the next rebound Genie jumps and Valentine runs under. As he bounces off the ropes a third time Stevens grabs him by the ankle and trips him up, causing him to faceplant before pulling him out of the ring.
Lauryn, having backed into the corner to buy herself time to recover, spins out of the corner and goes for Progression which Genie manages to duck under. As she ducks under Genie halts her momentum immediately and then ODE TO THE PRINCE pele kick, connects flush with Lauryn’s temple and drops Lauryn to the mat.

VASSA: ”That’s cheating! She stole that move from Eli!”
JOHNSON: ”It’s an effective move for him. Why shouldn’t she try and employ it in her own arsenal?”
VASSA: ”Because she just kicked my precious’s head in!”
JOHNSON: ”Get a grip Vinny! For Christ’s sake!”
Sensing the end of the match, Genie backs up to the ropes as Lauryn rolls over to her stomach and pushes herself up to her hands and knees. Genie takes two steps towards Lauryn and leaps into the air… STILETTO KISS! Her foot meets the back of Lauryn’s head perfectly and drives her face first down into the mat.
Immediately Genie drops to the mat and rolls Lauryn over onto her back, hooking the leg as outside of the ring Scott Stevens sends Eddie Valentine flying into the steel ring steps.

JOHNSON: ”What a turn of events!”

Stevens drops to a knee outside of the ring, catching his breath.

Stevens recognizes what’s happening and, panicked, pushes himself up to his feet and slides into the ring

Stevens body crashes down across the back of Genevie a tenth of a second too late as the referee signal for the bell

In the ring Stevens sits on his knees staring in disbelief. Genie, having rolled off to the side, holds her back and has her arm raised in the air by the referee, a pained grin showing just how much the match had taken out of her. Outside the ring, Eddie Valentine holds the back of his head, his face a mask of disappointment.
VASSA: ”This is such bullshi-”
JOHNSON: ”What he means to say, folks, is that that was one hell of a show all four competitors just put on.”
VASSA: ”No. What I meant to say is that I hope Scott Stevens is sterile. I hope Eddie Valentine goes bald and I hope Genie gets an STD and dies.”
JOHNSON: ”That’s a bit extreme don’t you think?”
VASSA: ”No. I don’t think so. The female version of Sauron just became a contender for the Pride Championship at Winter Wasteland.”
JOHNSON: ”She did indeed and in just a few moments we’ll find out who the final contender for the Pride Championship will be. Stay tuned folks, there’s still so much more action to come.”
Genie takes to the turnbuckle in celebration as “Killing These Hoes” plays over the sound system until the scene fades backstage.

Previously recorded video footage begins to air through the arena showing the backstage area in which the Asshole Antagonist’s are geared up and ready to wrestle, making their way to the stage entrance. As they continue their stroll, Jack Vaughn is seen running up behind Johnny Evil and Adrian Tanner. Stopping short and out of breath, Vaughn calls out…
VAUGHN: ”Evil!”
Evil and Tanner both turn around and look at Vaughn as the camera zooms in, allowing Konrad to catch one of those hilarious moments when you realized exactly how out of shape Jack Vaughn is.
Wiping the sweat from his brow and taking a moment to catch his breath, he finally speaks…

VAUGHN: ”Not you Adrian, just Evil.”
Adrian Tanner looks at Evil for a moment basically waiting for the okay to move on unless Evil needs him in the vicinity for some reason.
Giving a quick nod of the head, Tanner begins walking toward the entrance to the stage as Johnny backtracks toward Jack Vaughn.

EVIL: ”What you need, Vaughn?”
As Johnny approaches Jack Vaughn, Konrad from a distance zooms the camera in to catch the conversation.
VAUGHN: ”Wallace wanted me to give you a message…”
EVIL: ”Wallace gave you… of all people a message for me? Yeah… right!”
VAUGHN: ”Just because we don’t see eye to eye, doesn’t mean I don’t work for him. Don’t shoot the messenger!”
Evil looks at Jack for a moment before giving a nod for him to proceed…
VAUGHN: ”The message is, Maddox Lucien is not allowed to leave your match tonight unless it’s on a stretcher or in a body-bag. Wallace wants you to take him out by any means possible.”
EVIL: ”Really?”
VAUGHN: ”Yup, that’s the word. Apparently he’s trying to catch Wallace up on some legal stuff. I didn’t want to be the one to give you the message, but I’m just doing my job. Wallace said if you don’t comply don’t even bother going out to the ring tonight, because your contract will be terminated… effective immediately!”
Johnny thinks for a moment, biting his lip and pondering.
EVIL: ”Terminated? I wish his fat ass wouldn’t have sent another fat ass to tell me this bullshit, but go tell Wallace it’s a done deal. Lucien won’t leave the match IN ONE PIECE.
The camera footage fades out as Johnny turns around and begins to make his way to the ring with a smirk stretched across his face…

VASSA: “So he did do it!”
JOHNSON: “I’m still not buying it for one second. Perry and Jack haven’t been on good terms since months back. I’m still wondering why he even has a job.”
VASSA: “To do Perry’s dirty work! It all makes sense now!”
JOHNSON: “I don’t know. It just seems a little too far fetched.”
VASSA: “This wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten others to do the dirty work so he doesn’t get his hands dirty.”
JOHNSON: “You do make a good point.”


POWERS: “The following fatal fourway Pride Championship contender match is scheduled for one fall!”
The sound of a pipe organ begins to fill the arena as the crowd rises to its feet in a hail of boos. Every few seconds, the pipe organ increases up the musical scale by one note. Suddenly, as the pipe organ hits it’s dramatic note, the lights go out. Pyro then begins to envelop the stage for ten seconds. When it subsides, the final tier of “Dancing Mad” is playing throughout the arena. Nine seconds in, the lights shoot back on and Matthias Barrows is standing on the stage with his arms straight back and his fists at the side of his ribs. Stacy Barrows and Gary the Assassin appear from behind the curtain a few seconds later, and the three of them slowly start to walk towards the ring.
POWERS: “Making his way to the ring, being accompanied by Stacy Barrows and Gary the Assassin; from Reno, Nevada, weighing in at two hundred and forty-one pounds, ‘The King of Greens’, MATTHIAS BBAARRRROOWWSS!!!”
When they get to the bottom of the ramp, Stacy and Gary walk over to the steps. As Matthias hops up onto the ring apron, he throws his head back while hanging on the top rope and fireworks erupt above the ring as the song hits it’s somber half. Matthias then enters the ring and hopes onto the second turnbuckle. He hangs his right hand with a curled elbow and thrusts his left arm, palm-out, straight down before extending both arms out to the side, flexing his muscles.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring next…”
The arena lights suddenly go down, and a Trollface, Mariano’s calling card, appears on the big screen. Then, a sound of drums fills the arena.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from somewhere in Skyrim, weighing in at one hundred eighty pounds and standing six feet tall. He is ‘The Gadfly’… MARIANO FFEERRNNAANNDDEEZZ!!!”
The sound is later accompanied with guttural, barbarian chanting in a strange language, as the “Song of the Dragonborn” from The Elder Scrolls V – Skyrim begins its triumphant rhythm. Growing slowly in intensity matching the song, the arena lights come back…

Once the lights come back on, and after a huge pyro blast, he then beings striding decidedly and steadily to the ring. Once inside, he climbs the apron and passes between the ropes, he calls for a microphone from a member of the ringside crew.
POWERS: “And our third competitor!”
The house lights dim to black and a video begins to play on the screen.

Philip J. Fry and Bender “Bending” Rodriquez stand at the front of an Earth Army recruitment line. They can’t stop giggling to themselves as the step up to talk the recruiter.
BENDER: ”Hello… We’re here because we, uh, love our planet.”
RECRUITER:”Sign here on the dotted line, Patriots, and I’ll give you your discount cards.”
FRY: ”Just outta curiosity, we can use our discount cards to buy gum, then immediately quit the army, right?”
BENDER: ”You know? Playing you all for chumps?”
RECRUITER: ”Correct, there’s no obligation.”
Fry and Bender continue giggling to themselves as they sign the paper.
RECRUITER: ”Unless of course, war were declared.”
“The recruiter nods ominously. Suddenly, the red lighted alarm goes off behind them. A close caption underneath the alarm light reads “Asshole Alarm. Fry and Bender look around in confusion.”
FRY: ”What’s that!?”
The Recruiter locks his hands in a sinister fashion.
RECRUITER: ”War were declared.”
The sixth time, the gun fires and the screen shatters into a million pieces as “Tom Sawyer” by Deadsy booms through the speakers. Loud fireworks explode from the stage as the song kicks in and Adrian Tanner Jr stands in the middle of the stage, arms out to his side and head covered by the hood of his ring jacket. Red and white spotlights illuminate the stage as plays through the PA.
POWERS: “Introducing to the ring from Tucson, Arizona, weighing in at two hundred twenty-seven pounds and standing six feet, one inch tall! He is ‘The Arizona Assassin’… ADRIAN TANNER JJUUNNIIOORR!!!”
The red spotlights make a circle through the crowd while the white spotlights pulse in tune with the music for a very dizzying effect, as the Arizona Assassin makes his way down the ramp. He walks down the ramp towards the ring, slapping hands with a few fans before he pulls the jacket off as he slides under the ropes. He mounts the nearest turnbuckle and makes a gun motion with his left hand. He cocks the “guns”, “fires” then jumps down.
POWERS: “And our final competitor in the fatal fourway Pride Championship contender match!”
With the intro of the song out of the way, Persephone makes her way onto the stage; a large and almost condescending smile on her face as she heads down the ramp.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Manhattan, New York, weighing in at one hundred and twenty-one pounds and standing five feet, seven inches tall… PERSEPHONE MMAARRQQUUIISS!!!”
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 at her. However, she pays no mind to either of them; patting her hands on her belt; showing that she doesn’t need anything else.
“These hoes ain’t loyal!”

She enters the ring and regards her opponents 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.
JOHNSON: “We’re back ladies and gentlemen and just in time for our second of the double main event feature this evening.”
VASSA: “Our first qualifying match was an exciting one to say the least.”
JOHNSON: “It truly was, Vinny. Genevie Carlson will be advancing to Winter Wasteland to face off for the Pride Championship along with Jason Cashe and the winner of this upcoming match.”
VASSA: “Folks, we’re joined here at ringside by no one other than the Pride Champion himself, Bryan Williams!”
WILLIAMS: “Thanks for having me guys.”
VASSA: “The pleasure is ours. So we already have one contender match winner. What are your thoughts in regards to Genie winning and being one of your opponents at Winter Wasteland?”
WILLIAMS: “She had a very tough match earlier but in the end she was able to have her hand raised for the win.”
JOHNSON: “You’ve never mad a match with her Bryan, at least not in 4CW. How do you prepare yourself for something like this?”
WILLIAMS: “Just like I do every match. I–“
VASSA: “By wishing to sleep forever!”
WILLIAMS: “No. I prepare myself both mentally and physically through my training. I may not have had a match with her in 4CW, but I have had a match with the other person announced for this Pride Championship defense at Winter Wasteland.”
JOHNSON: “We all thought it was going to be you versus Cashe at Winter Wasteland but it came as a shocker when he wasn’t listed as one of the eight people in these two fatal fourway qualifying matches.”
WILLIAMS: “It was a shock to be honest. Things between he and I didn’t end at Fright Night. Turns out Perry actually does have a heart during the holiday season.”
VASSA: “If that’s what you want to call it. So going into this match knowing that both Cashe and genie are lined in front of you, what’s the first thing to go through your mind?”
WILLIAMS: “It doesn’t matter who is lined up in front of me. I’m the Pride Champion and I’m going to defend against all challengers. I can’t take the easy route like Chris Madison and duck out when a challenge presents itself.”
JOHNSON: “That’s enough small talk for now. We have a match to get to.”
VASSA: “Speaking of which, who do you have in this one, Bryan?”
WILLIAMS: “It doesn’t matter. I’m prepared to face them all.”
VASSA: “I like it!”
Standing in the center of the ring, the official checks in with each corner, getting the okay from every wrestler involved.
All four competitors are in the ring while a camera catches a glimps of Gary the Assassin stuffing handfuls of Skoal into his mouth.
JOHNSON: “What the heck is Gary doing?”
VASSA: “What does it look like he’s doing? He’s taking a dip.”
With everyone ready to get things underway, the official then throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

At the sound of the bell, Barrows bursts from his corner and darts in Marquis’ direction. Closing in on her, he leaps forward, leaving her with nowhere to escape as he connects with a flying punch to the side of her head, knocking her against the corner. Unloading, Barrows fires away with lefts and rights to Marquis’ head, giving her no chance to retaliate.
VASSA: “This escalated quickly.”
JOHNSON: “What did you expect? She had brought Matthias’ kid into this from the start.”
VASSA: “When it comes to Queef, nothing is off limits!”
Pulling Marquis away from the corner, Matthias lifts her onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry before falling back and slamming her to the canvas with a Samoan drop.
WILLIAMS: “Last time someone brought a kid into this Mac turned the whole world against Bronx.”
VASSA: “I miss him…”
As Barrows climbs on top of Marquis and begins throwing lefts and rights, Adrian and Mariano lock up on the other side of the ring. Overpowering Adrian, Mariano pulls his head down by his side and applies a side headlock. Taking a few steps forward, Mariano leaps, bringing Adrian along and planting his head into the canvas with a bulldog. Rolling Adrian over to his back, Mariano then stands tall and rushes to the nearby corner. Climbing to the middle rope, he then turns around and leaps off of it, coming down across Adrian’s chest with an elbow drop.
WILLIAMS: “There you go, Mariano! Get him!”
VASSA: “You’re supposed to remain neutral here at the booth. Just a heads up.”
JOHNSON: “You’re one to talk.”
Back on his feet, Mariano looks across the ring as Barrows continues his relentless assault on Marquis. Racing over, Mariano grabs ahold of Barrows and drags him off before he can connect with anymore punches. Pushing himself up to his feet, Barrows whips around in anger at the sight of Mariano. Lunging forward, Barrows drives both palms into Mariano’s chest, pushing him back a couple of steps. Cocking his head to the side, Mariano shrugs his shoulders as the camera zooms in to read his lips “Problem?”
WILLIAMS: “I love it when he does that.”
VASSA: “Just like you love getting turnt! Here Bryan, have a drink.”
WILLIAMS: “Holy shit, you’re actually drinking here at ringside?”
VASSA: “Each and every show. Where the fuck have you been?”
JOHNSON: “Your performance at the booth shows it too.”
WILLIAMS: “No thanks, I’m good.”
Taking a swing, Barrows connects with a stiff right to the side of Mariano’s head. Returning the favor, Mariano takes a swing as well but comes up short as Barrows ducks underneath it and counters with an elbow shot to the stomach. Grabbing onto Mariano’s head, Barrows then jumps up and drives Mariano’s face into the canvas with a sit-out facebuster.
Meanwhile, Marquis has gotten back to her feet having shaken off the vicious assault from moments earlier. Cutting her attention to Barrows as he slowly pushes himself up, she takes off in his direction, gaining speed with each step. As she closes in to Barrows, suddenly she’s blindsided as Adrian rams into her side with a running shoulder block, knocking her down. Instantly, she pops back to her feet only to spot an incoming fist aimed for her head. Throwing her hands up, Marquis catches Adrian’s fist just inches in front of her face. She then kicks him in the stomach and locks onto his wrist before whipping him to the furthest corner. Just as Adrian crashes into the corner, Marquis is right behind him leaping into the air and planting both feet into his face with a running corner dropkick. Adrian’s feet lift up from the mat as his body rolls over the top rope and crashes down to the floor below.

JOHNSON: “That’s one way to eliminate the competition!”
VASSA: “He’s going to be feeling the after effects of that nasty fall in the morning.”
WILLIAMS: “Nah, he’ll be alright I think. He had an even nastier fall at Fright Night and look what it got him. The XTV Championship.”
Across the ring, Mariano and Barrows exchange punches amongst each other. Hitting Barrows with an overhead right, Mariano rings his bell. Mariano then kicks him in the stomach, forcing him to lunge over from the impact. Pulling Barrows head between his legs, Mariano wraps both arms around his waist and then attempts to lift him upside down for a piledriver.
JOHNSON: “Not just yet, Mariano!”
Locking his leg with Mariano’s, Barrows denies him from lifting him upside down. Barrows then uses all of his strength to stand up, lifting Mariano off his feet and flipping him over his back as he stands tall.
VASSA: “Incoming Queef at twelve o’clock!”
Just as Barrows stands, Marquis connects to the side of his head with a step-up enzuigiri, knocking him flat on his back and onto Mariano.
With Barrows covering Mariano, the official quickly slides in with the count.

Ripping Barrows off of Mariano, Marquis breaks up the pin before a full one count. She then pulls Barrows up to his feet and locks onto him. Barrows then shows signs of life, giving Marquis a hard time with making her next move as the two begin to struggle with one another. As this goes on, Mariano slowly climbs to his feet. Moving in from behind, Mariano delivers a knee strike to Barrows’ back. He then steps beside Marquis and then the two lift Barrows up and over, dropping him to the canvas with a double suplex.
Mariano and Marquis then rise to their feet, Mariano standing first. Moving in quickly, Mariano lands a hard right hand across Marquis’ head as she gets to one knee. He then assists her and pulls her up tp both feet. Locking onto her wrist, Mariano then whips Marquis to the corner and as she crashes against it, he charges in and leaps through the air, closing in and connecting with a flying forearm to the face. Stepping out of the way and creating a clear path for Marquis, Mariano watches as she stumbles forward before climbing to the top of the corner. As Marquis comes to a stop, she slowly turns around and once she faces Mariano, he’s right there flying towards her and leveling her with a missile dropkick.

WILLIAMS: “I’m pretty sure I saw that move straight out of Skyrim.”
VASSA: “Skyrimjob more like it!”
WILLIAMS: “What the heck?!”
As Mariano stands to his feet, Adrian is right behind him, knocking him to his knees with an elbow shot to the back of the head. Adrian then whips Mariano around and slaps him across the chest with a knife-edge chop. Firing away with another, Adrian slaps Mariano across the chest again. Locking onto Mariano’s wrist, Adrian then goes to whip him to the ropes but before he can release, Mariano reverses and whips Adrian to the ropes in front of the announcers booth instead. Taking off behind Adrian, Mariano hits him with a clothesline just as his back presses against the ropes. The two then spill over the top rope and crash down to the floor just feet in front of the announcers booth.
JOHNSON: “Mariano Fernandez and Adrian Tanner Jr. are right in front of us here.”
Back in the ring, both Marquis and Barrows stand to their feet. Rushing in Barrows takes a swing for Marquis’ head but comes up short as she ducks out of the way and counters with a knee to his stomach. Locking onto Barrows head, Marquis then drops him to the mat with a swinging neck breaker.
VASSA: “Just a little too quick for Matthias!”
As Marquis measures the downed Barrows, she doesn’t notice Gary climb onto the apron near the Barrows corner. As Matthias struggles to his feet, Persephone bounces off the ropes and charges, but Matthias reverses!
JOHNSON: “Drop toe hold by Matthias Barrows, and Persephone Marquis is hung out to dry on the middle rope.”
As Matthias takes a moment to recover, Gary makes his move and plants a smooch right on Marquis’ lips!
JOHNSON: “Gary the Assassin just caught Persephone Marquis in a lip lock!”
WILLIAMS: “This is awesome! I hope Cashe is watching!”
Marquis pushes Gary off the apron, who laughs like an idiot while Marquis gags in the ring and spits something out.
JOHNSON: “What in the world!?”
WILLIAMS: “I’d imagine she does that every time her and Cashe share a kiss.”
VASSA: “I think Gary spit his Skoal into her mouth!”
JOHNSON: “That is all kinds of disgusting!”
WILLIAMS: “What the heck?!”
VASSA: “I KNEW Barrows wouldn’t let Marquis get away with what she said about Chloe. Matthias used Gary to give her a Skoal smooch!”
Marquis spits a few more times before she turns around and is floored by a lifting DDT by Matthias, who quickly rolls her into the cover.

Before the Referee can make the count, Mariano dives back in and breaks up the pin!
WILLIAMS: “Mariano saves the day!”
VASSA: “Too bad he couldn’t save her from that nasty kiss and take one for the team.”
WILLIAMS: “Oh he doesn’t like the homosexuals.”
VASSA: “It’s okay, Steve. We lost those viewers after Jett left.”
WILLIAMS: “The F.A.G. Nation!”
VASSA: “Future Amazing Great!”
JOHNSON: “If you say so.”
Pulling Barrows up from Marquis, Mariano whips him around and connects with a fierce shot to Barrows’ mouth. Barrows then lunges forward and eye rakes Mariano out of the officials sight, blinding him. Stepping in beside Mariano, Barrows then drops him to the mat with a Russian leg sweep. Back on his feet, Barrows begins stomping on Mariano’s arms and legs. He then leaps up and comes down with a powerful stomp to Mariano’s stomach, forcing him to sit up from the impact. Turning to the ropes behind him, Barrows takes off towards them and as he comes back on the rebound, Barrows hits Mariano in the jaw with a running knee, knocking him flat on his back.
JOHNSON: “Watch out now!”
Barrows eyes then light up as Adrian springboards off the top rope and flies into him with a flying crossbody. Catching Adrian in mid-air, Barrows then drops to one knee and slams Adrian across his elevated knee with a backbreaker. Not releasing Adrian, Barrows then stands tall once more and drops him with another backbreaker. Bouncing off Barrows’ knee, Adrian flips over and crashes face first onto the canvas.
As Barrows pushes himself up to both feet, Mariano reaches up from behind him and grabs the back of his pants, pulling him down for a quick rollup. Racing over, the official slides in beside them with the count.


Kicking out at the two count, Barrows lifts Mariano and tosses him aside, breaking the officials count. The two then race to get to their feet, Mariano standing first. Closing in on Barrows, Mariano hits him in the chops with a spinning wheel kick, knocking him backwards and into the nearby corner. Taking off behind him, Mariano follows and as Barrows slams into the corner, Mariano hits him in the face with a rolling koppu kick.
WILLIAMS: “Things are sure getting turnt in that ring!”
VASSA: “In the ring? I’m getting turnt right here at the booth while you’re being a little tittybaby.”
As Mariano falls to his side, Barrows drops down to both knees, holding himself up as he grabs onto the ropes at his sides. Pushing himself up, Mariano then grabs onto Barrows head with one hand, holding it in place as he begins landing solid punches to the top of his head with the other. Pulling Barrows up to his feet, Mariano gets caught by surprise as Barrows reaches forward with both hands, grabbing ahold of him. Pulling Mariano in and turning his body, Barrows slams Mariano into the corner. He then ducks down and grabs onto the middle ropes with both hands before using them to pull himself forward and driving his shoulder into Mariano’s stomach.
Barrows then lifts Mariano up and sits him on top of the corner. He then climbs to the middle ropes before grabbing onto Mariano’s head and holding it in place as he begins punching him with the other. After four landed punches, Marquis pops back into the picture and grabs Barrows by the back of the pants, pulling him off the corner. As Barrows lands to his feet, he spins around instantly and catches Marquis with a backhand to the cheek. At that moment, Marquis snaps as she draws back, balling her fist, and then swings with all of her might, clocking Barrows with a punch right between the eyes. Barrows stumbles backwards and crashes against the corner.

JOHNSON: “That punch had some firepower behind it!”
VASSA: “I don’t think she appreciated that pimp slap Matthias gave her.”
WILLIAMS: “He going to be wishing he could sleep forever after that mistake.”
Marquis then unloads with a striking punch combo to Barrows’ body before topping it off with a vicious punch to the heart. She then grabs Barrows by the back of the head and rips him away from the corner before turning and throwing him into the ropes. Hitting the ropes chest first, Barrows flips up and over as he falls down to the floor. Looking up, she spots Mariano standing tall on the top rope. Without a single hesitation, she leaps forward and throws her arms across the top rope, forcing Mariano to lose his balance as he falls down to a seated position with his legs spread over the sides of the corner and the turnbuckle not giving any as his crotch slams onto it.
VASSA: “No, not the nuts!”
JOHNSON: “She isn’t done just yet!”
As Mariano holds his crotch sitting at the top of the corner, Marquis takes a few steps back. She then runs forward and steps up onto the middle rope, using it to elevate herself as she plants her foot across the side of Mariano’s face with a step-up enzuigiri. Falling backwards, Mariano crashes down onto the ringside steps before rolling down each one and spreading out across the floor.
JOHNSON: “I don’t think Mariano’s going to be the same after that series of events.”
VASSA: “We’ve seen worse. He did survive the biggest wedgie I had ever seen in my lifetime.”
Looking down at the bodies on the floor, Marquis smirks at the damage done.
WILLIAMS: “You forgot about someone!”
JOHNSON: “It’ Adrian Tanner!”
Sneaking in behind Marquis, Adrian grabs onto her shoulder and spins her around. He then steps in and locks his arms around her, preparing for the reverse STO facebreaker. Before Adrian can attempt to even bring her down, Marquis slams an elbow into the side of his head, driving it into his ear and breaking his hold. She then pushes him away before turning to the ropes to her left and leaping forward. Planting both feet onto the middle rope, she springboards off and as she turns around, she locks her arm around Adrian’s head and plants his head into the canvas with a tornado DDT.
JOHNSON: “Petty Cash!”
WILLIAMS: “Petty just like her boyfriend!”
Rolling Adrian over to his back, Marquis then makes the cover and hooks his leg as the official slides in with the count.

On the outside, Barrows stands up before looking into the ring and realizing what’s happening. He then slides underneath the bottom rope.

Just as Barrows stands, Mariano reaches underneath the ropes and grabs onto his foot, pulling his leg out from under him, causing Barrows to slam face first against the canvas.

JOHNSON: “That’s it folks, Persephone is the final person to challenge Bryan for the Pride Championship at Winter Wasteland.”
VASSA: “What do you have to say, Bryan?”
WILLIAMS: “That’s fine. I’ll just sit back and let her and Cashe tear each other apart. Seems like she cares more about having a match with him anyway.”
VASSA: “I know right? That’s a fucked up relationship if you ask me.”
“Loyal” hits the speakers throughout the arena as Persephone slowly rises to her feet. Stepping in beside her, the official then raises her arm into the air as the final bell sounds.

Pushing himself up, Barrows turns to the outside where Mariano looks back at him and his lips read “Problem?” Barrows then leaps through the ropes and tackles Mariano down to the floor. The two then roll around exchanging blows with one another as Marquis looks on from the outside, laughing at the sight.
JOHNSON: “Although the match is over, we have another brawl on our hands folks!”
VASSA: “Let them fight it out! These two have history with one another and a one on one match is exactly what they need to clear the air.”
JOHNSON: “Maybe these two can settle things at Winter Wasteland?”
Both men then get to their feet as the brawl continues and makes its way towards the announcers booth.
WILLIAMS: “We got action guys.”
Mariano throws Barrows off of him, sending him stumbling into the announcers booth.
JOHNSON: “Hold on a dang second!”
As Mariano rushes in towards Barrows, Barrows grabs the Pride Championship from the top of the announcers booth and smashes it against Mariano’s face as he closes in.
Members of the ringside crew then rush in and subdue Barrows. Standing up, Bryan tosses his headset aside and reaches over the booth, ripping the championship belt from Barrows’ hands. As the ringside crew separate Barrows’ from Mariano, Persephone makes her way over to the ropes. Leaning over the top, she catches Bryan’s attention and then blows him a kiss before pointing to the Pride Championship.
JOHNSON: “Can someone get things under control down here?!”
VASSA: “Everything is chill, Steve. Calm down.”
Bryan then holds the championship up and in front of him, pointing to Marquis with his index finger. He then tosses the championship over his shoulder before leaving the booth area and slowly walking around the ring. Inside the ropes, Persephone keeps her eyes locked on him, taunting as he gets further and further away.
JOHNSON: “There you have it folks. Persephone will be the final person to join Jason Cashe, Genevie Carlson, and Bryan Williams at Winter Wasteland for the Pride Championship.”
VASSA: “I can’t wait to see Cashe and Queef get inside of the ring against each other. This is going to be great!”
JOHNSON: “I’m more interested to know just what type of match is in store for all four at Wasteland. Nothing official has been announced yet.”
VASSA: “I guess we’ll just have to wait until the official card releases to find out. I’m sure it’s going to be something bigger and better than a fourway.”
JOHNSON: “Well folks, that’s all the time we have for tonight. Tune in two weeks from now as we’ll head down to Greensboro, North Carolina for Adrenaline fifty-eight.”
VASSA: “And then a week after, we’ll cross the pond for Winter Wasteland! This is going to be a magical holiday season!”
JOHNSON: “From everyone here at 4 Corners Wrestling, I’m Steve Johnson…”
VASSA: “And I’m Vinny Vassa. Good fight and good night!”