Our picture opens to a shot from inside of the ring overlooking the packed crowd in attendance at the Greensboro Coliseum Complex. With only a week to go before Winter Wasteland, the crowd is anxious for what may unfold this evening in North Carolina. In the crowd, various signs are held high, some more noticeable than others.

Down at ringside, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa sit behind the booth, ready to kickoff tonight’s Adrenaline.
JOHNSON: “Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to another edition of 4CW Adrenaline! I’m your host, Steve Johnson…”
VASSA: “And I’m the one you all came to listen to, Vinny Vassa! What’s up folks?!”
JOHNSON: “We’re just one week away from Winter Wasteland and traveling across the pond for the first time in 4CW history.”
VASSA: “I’m excited to say the least, but before we head to England, we have one more stop and this is it folks!”
JOHNSON: “We’re coming to you live from the Greensboro Coliseum Complex in Greensboro, North Carolina.”
VASSA: “We don’t have a big show planned for tonight as next week we’ll see the majority of 4CW talents competing at Winter Wasteland.”
JOHNSON: “In our main event this evening, we’ll see Eddie Valentine and Scott Stevens square off one on one.”
VASSA: “I’m actually looking forward to the headline tonight as we have two 4CW originals throwing down inside of that ring. Niobe Martin and Lord Raab will showcase our headline folks.”
JOHNSON: “On a different topic, I’ve been hearing whispers of something big coming to 4CW.”
VASSA: “Something big? I’m here each and every show.”
JOHNSON: “Not you, get over yourself! I’ve heard rumors of a possible Hall of Fame for 4CW.”
VASSA: “I haven’t heard anything about that but if it’s true, the all I can say is about time. We’re been rocking and rolling for three years straight. We’ve seen many faces come through that curtain over the years but only a few leave an impact that lasts forever.”
JOHNSON: “I don’t know how true these rumors are, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”
VASSA: “I’m already waiting and I can’t wait any longer for Winter Wasteland. Don’t give me something else to wait around for!”
JOHNSON: “Calm down, Vinny!”
VASSA: “No, you calm down! We’ve waited long enough. Let’s get on with the damn show!”
JOHNSON: “If you insist. Folks, we’re going to go backstage momentarily but will return shortly with our opening match of the evening.”

Earlier today…

It is late in the afternoon as fans are lined up outside the Greensboro Coliseum complex waiting to get in to see the final Adrenaline before Winter Wasteland. Aside from Christmas attire many people are wearing Jair Hopkins shirts, costume pieces that make a person look like they have a giant ass like Tara, mouthguards that make you look like you’re missing your two front teeth like Cashe, and one guy who was even wearing a shirt with a fake nipple stitched to it that read ‘Lost and looking for it’s home’ underneath it. It’s exactly what you would expect out of a 4CW crowd. As they waited for the gates to open, a man dressed like Santa Claus and a woman dressed like Mrs. Claus going to the club can be seen. “Santa’s” voice can be heard over the noise of everyone else.
? ? ?: ”HO! HO! HOOOOOOO!!!!….. Goddamn girl you really are a ho.”
The voice of Elijah Carlson can be heard as he comes into camera view, dressed like Santa Claus and carrying a large sack of goodies slung over his shoulder. Somehow he’s spotted a girl dressed like she’s from the Jersey Shore.
E. CARLSON: ”Have a gift from Santa’s heavy sack.”
Eli reaches into the large back and pulls out a rectangular gift wrapped in newspaper because it wasn’t like he and Genie were going to waste money buying wrapping paper to wrap presents for the fans in. He encourages her to open it. As she’s tearing at the paper a young child crying from a few feet away draws Eli’s attention.
E. CARLSON: ”Would you shut up you little asshole. I’m trying to spread Christmas joy here.”
Speaking to the child only seems to upset him more, causing his crying to become louder.
E. CARLSON: ”Ugh. God you’re annoying. No wonder mommy and daddy don’t love you. Want to know something else? Santa Claus isn’t real.”
Eli pulls down his fake beard showing the kid that he wasn’t really Santa at all, just a fake, as the cameraman zooms in on the child’s horrified expression. Meanwhile, the woman who was busy unwrapping the gift that had been handed to her by Eli is disappointed to find that it is merely a family picture of Eli, Genie, their four dogs and Babe the mini pig.
G. CARLSON: ”Ugh… baaaaaabe. I don’t think the peasants are enjoying our presents. SAY PLEASE YOU FI-EEEEWwwwww don’t touch me?! What the hell is wrong with you???”
A preteen girl in her excitement had reached out to touch her favorite wrestler, Genevie Carlson, only to be rejected harshly by the soon to be Pride Champion. Horrified by Genie’s reaction, the girls mother placed her hands on her hips and shook her head angrily at her.
MOTHER: ”You two should be ashamed of yourselves. Treating children and hard working people like this. I’m sure your boss is. If you ask me you both should be fined.”
G. CARLSON: ”Ashamed? Daddy? He’s Jewish… I think. At least his hair looks like it. His nose kind of too. Anyway, he doesn’t care about Christmas or about you. Just about my happiness. So maybe you should try putting on a yamaka and shutting the fu-”
Eli reached out and touched her arm gently, shaking his head.
E. CARLSON: ”Let’s just go inside, yeah? I’m tired of talking to the common rabble. They don’t desire our pictures to place in their shrines to us anyway. Plus… that Mrs. Claus outfit of yours is doing..”
The rest of the conversation fades as the two walk arm in arm away from the large crowd of people and in the direction of the entrance to the backstage area.


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.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring next!”
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.
POWERS: “Our final competitor!”
“Foxy Lady” by Jimi Hendrix hits the speakers as Mary-Jane Braxton walks out from the back and makes her way down to the ring.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Tribes Hill, New York, weighing in at one hundred thirteen pounds and standing five feet, six inches tall. She is ‘The Dirty Hippie’ MARY-JANE BBRRAAXXTTOONN!!!”
Sliding into the ring, MJ brushes past the official and charges straight for Roll!

Closing in, MJ connects with a charging headbutt right between Roll’s eyes, knocking him against the corner. Across the ring, Darin waits for the right moment to strike before racing in from behind. MJ pulls Roll away from the corner and goes to whip him to the opposite corner but instead, she throws him right into Darin. The two men collide before falling backwards and crashing to the mat.
Climbing the corner, MJ stands tall above the ring as she looks everything over before making her move. Leaping forward, MJ glides through the air before coming down across Darin’s forehead with a diving fist drop. She then stands to her feet and jerks him up from the mat. Spinning Darin around, MJ grabs the back of his pants and pulls up as hard as she can, almost lifting his feet up from the mat as she gives him a wedgie. She then locks her arm around Darin’s head before taking a few steps forward and leaping into the air, driving Darin’s face into the mat on the way down with a bulldog.

VASSA: “Mary-Jane got a lot of heat via social media leading up to this match.”
JOHNSON: “She did but she’s off to a quick start tonight.”
VASSA: “She has some eyes on her after all the back and forth. Pulling off a win in her debut would silence a few of the critics.”
As MJ stands to her feet, Roll rushes in behind her and wraps her up around the waist. Before he can make his next move, MJ throws her elbow back, smacking Roll in the face with it before breaking out of his hold and spinning around him. Pushing Roll forward to create some distance, MJ then steps in before lifting her foot up from the mat and driving it directly into the center of his back with a stiff kick. She then turns to the ropes and as she comes back on the rebound, MJ drops Roll to the mat with a running lariat.
JOHNSON: “The disco kid goes down!”
VASSA: “Any blows to the top of the head should be cushioned with that huge afro he sports.”
As both Darin and Roll slowly climb to their feet, MJ stands back and watches closely. Once the two stand, she steps in between them and grabs them both by the head. Pulling her arms in together, she slams their heads together as the crowd cringes from the sight. Darin falls straight to the mat as Roll staggers backwards. MJ then slides in and connects with a superkick underneath the jaw, laying Roll out flat on his back.
VASSA: “This poor kid just can’t seem to catch a break.”
Turning to the corner, MJ quickly races over and leaps up to the top turnbuckle. Overlooking the crowd, she then leaps backwards and flips in mid-air, coming down onto Roll with a moonsault double foot stomp.
JOHNSON: “Wrong name! That’s her version called Om Vajradharma.”
VASSA: “What the fu–“
JOHNSON: “Just trust me!”
Dropping to her knees, MJ covers Roll for the pin as the official drops in with the count.

POWERS: “Here is your winner, MARY-JANE BBRRAAXXTTOONN!!!”

The scene cuts back to “RAW” by Bad Meets Evil playing as Perry Wallace steps out from the curtain, welcomed by nothing other than a wave of boos from the Greensboro crowd. Without breaking his stride, Perry walks straight towards the ring, focused on what’s ahead of him while ignoring the negative reaction from the crowd. Once at ringside, he climbs the steps before stepping onto the apron. With a microphone in hand and a folder of papers in his other, he enters through the ropes before approaching a table placed in the center of the ring. As Wallace begins to speak the camera quickly pans to a sign in the front row, a sign which Perry Wallace has been eyeing since he entered the ring…

Wallace points at the sign to begin his announcement…
WALLACE: “This is unacceptable. If you believe I would tell Jack Vaughn anything, please… you can all go fuck yourselves!”
Wallace begins to pace around the ring.
WALLACE: “I have an important announcement to make that concerns Johnny Evil’s match against our XTV Champion at Winter Warzone. Before I get to that announcement though, I would like to call Johnny Evil out to the ring because this announcement will need his presence in the ring. Also, I would like to personally look Evil in the eyes and tell him face to face that I had nothing to do with the Jack Vaughn incident. If Vaughn acted, he acted on his own discretion and trust me, that mother fucker will be dealt with accordingly. So, without taking up anymore time… Evil, your presence is requested, like right now.
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 with a couple armed guards and Simon Adessi walking slowly behind his. 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 looks down the ramp at Perry Wallace and begins muttering as he starts walking down the ramp.
As Evil gets ringside he slowly walks up the ramp, still eyeing Wallace with a concerning look on his face almost as if to say ‘what in the hell is going on’. Making his way through the middle rope he looks back out into the audience and waves his hands up as if to hype them up.
Evil continues to pace around the ring as Simon Adessi and a couple armed guards stand ringside. Evil signals for a microphone as one of the ringside staff fetch him one. After getting the microphone, Johnny walks back and forth for a moment, eyeing Perry Wallace down, and every once in a while, looking down on the table in the center of the ring where a folder is laying with contents unknown.

EVIL: “Okay, so what could the great leader of 4CW possibly want? Does he have another plot of fuckery up his sleeve? Tell me, Perry… Why am I here and what do you have hiding behind that folder?”
WALLACE: ”Let’s see here, shall we?”
Perry Wallace and Johnny Evil both walk over to the table. As Perry reaches out to open the folder, Johnny Evil pushes Wallace’s hand away from the folder getting a decent reaction from the sold out arena as Perry grows a frustrated look on his face. Almost as if a drunk driver had ran over an infant Bronxy. Johnny smirks and speaks again…
EVIL: “Forget the folder right now. You said you had something to tell me face to face. I’m quite interested that you do all that first.”
Perry steps forward and looks Johnny Evil directly in his eyes.
WALLACE: ”Johnny, it’s all in your head. Your hatred for the authority in 4CW has blinded you into actually thinking that I would get my hands dirty with the likes of Jack Vaughn or putting any of 4CW’s talents in harms way.”
A smirk comes to Perry’s face as he turns to the crowd momentarily before shrugging his shoulders. He then looks back to Evil after straightening his face.
WALLACE: ”The man said what he said, there’s no denying that. We’ve all seen the scripted footage that YOU decided to air publicly for everyone. Do me a small favor though. Just think about it for a second. Why would I put 4CW at risk and in any negative spotlight over the likes of Maddox Lucien? There have been a number of people walk through that curtain that I couldn’t give a single fuck less about. But I’m not going to go out of my way to harm them.”
Johnny looks at Wallace with a dumb look on his face.
EVIL: “Wallace, it’s not like you haven’t pulled fuck moves in the past. It is kind of hard to believe your credibility right about now.”
WALLACE: “Well, I don’t care if you believe it or not. At least I was a man about shit and didn’t give you the run around or avoid your question. I’m going to personally get to the bottom of this whole Jack Vaughn fuck shit, believe that. But first, let’s move on and get to the contents inside of this folder.”
Johnny looks down at the folder as Perry begins to open the contents.
WALLACE: “You want your freedom from prison. Sativa also wants to adopt Rhiannon. It would have been difficult to appease one without the other, so I decided the only logical way to go about things would be a simple case of laying it all on the line. Right here, are adoption papers for your daughter. Which I will need you to sign…”
EVIL:“I’m not signing that shit, Wallace!”
Wallace looks at Evil with a concerned look.
WALLACE: “Sign these papers, and a release from federal prison will also be on the line. No fuckery involved. I believe in you, Evil the question is, do you believe in yourself?”
Johnny looks around at the crowd on the edge of their seats awaiting his response.
WALLACE: “Trust me, it’s not some sort of screw Johnny Evil ordeal. It’s all in the interest of fairness. If you win at Winter Wasteland, you will walk out not only as XTV Champion, but a free man with your daughter… I personally guarantee I will deliver all this to you if you win. In order to insure complete fairness though, you will have to sign the adoption papers tonight. Sativa’s name will be left blank… being able to sign her name to the papers if and only if she is victorious.”
Evil looks around pacing for a moment, looking out into the stands and then muttering under his breath as he looks in Simon Adessi’s direction. After a moment he approaches the adoption papers, snatching the pen off the table. Looking around once more, Johnny leans down and signs the adoption papers as the camera zooms in on his signature and a blank line next to it where Sativa’s name could possibly be following their match at Winter Wasteland.
Looking back to the guards and Simon Adessi, Johnny notices a smirk across Adessi’s face that he doesn’t like. At this point he looks around the arena for a moment and drops the pen. Giving a smirk that only a smart ass like Johnny Evil could and a sarcastic wave bye, Evil slides out of the other side of the ring and laughs as he books ass hoping the barricade and rushing through the arena, blending in with the audience.
Adessi and the guards grow angry and begin to give chase around the ring, hoping the barricade in an attempt to recapture an escaping Johnny Evil

VASSA: ”What a fucking idiot!! He’s really attempting to escape federal custody through the Greensboro audience!!
JOHNSON: ”The crazy thing is, I think Evil may have done it. There is no way in hell they find him in this jam packed audience. Something about that smirk across Agent Adessi’s face set Johnny Evil off!!”

Backstage, we see the name of Adrian Tanner Jr on the door. A small hand reaches out and knocks at the door. Adrian Tanner Junior answers, clad in his ring entrance attire.
TANNER: “Jelll-Oh-“
Adrian tilts his head in confusion at the group of small children, around 15-20, that are gathered in front of him until he remembers quickly that it is the holidays. They all have their faces painted white. They wear black winter hats and black trench coats.
TANNER: “Oh ah, hey kids. What can I do for ya?”
Adrian is handed a box from a small child in front. Adrian stares curiously at the box offered to him, glancing back and forth between the children and the box. The child takes two steps back and rejoins the group
TANNER: “Okay…? Are you sure you got the right guy? Not that I’m not all for the Christmas presents but this seems pretty random, even for things that happen to me
Before he can get any semblance of an answer, the children begin to sing.
“Come, he told me,
Pa rum pum pum pum
Our dark lord king to see
pa rum pum pum
His finest gifts we bring
Pa rum pum pum pum
As told to by our king
Pa rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum
So we honor him
Pa rum pum pum pum, He told us to come
Tanner Junior
Pa rum pum pum pum
I am a sinner too
Pa rum pum pum pum
You have no gift to bring
Pa rum pum pum pum
That’s fit to give our king
Pa rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum
He will take from you
Pa ra pum pum pum
You should run
Viduus sees all
Pa ra pum pum pum
He knows your weaknesses
Pa ra pum pum pum
He will feed on your souls
Pa rum pum pum pum
There’s nothing he does not know
Pa rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum, rum pum pum pum
He will smile at you
Pa rum pum pum pum
That’s when you run”

TANNER: “Uh…ok guys…maybe you…
The small child in the front cuts Adrian off by pointing to the box for Adrian to open it. Adrian, looking down at the box, hesitantly opens it and is immediately grossed out by the contents. He jumps back a bit, letting the box fall to the gorund revealing a bloody and gross looking animal heart.
TANNER: “What the fuck is this? Why the fuck is this a thing and why…
EVENT STAFF: “Language!”
TANNER: “I’m sorry, but maybe you didn’t see the bloody fucking cow heart or whatever on the fuckin’ ground! I think I have a right to freak out! And I have to get out there right now, I’ve got a match to get through!
When Adrian looks up there is no one but one child left smiling at him. He cautiously steps to the side of the heart in its pool of blood and watches the child as he makes his way to a different staff member about cleaning it up and apologizing for the mess as he goes. The child, however, is still watching him with a everlasting smile.


POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
Viddus Morta’s music hits and the arena goes completely black. As the lyrics begin four different fire explosions keep firing in the air on each side. Viduus walks out slowly on pace with the music.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Parts Unknown, weighing in at one hundred ninety-five pounds and standing six feet, two inches tall… VIDUUS MMOORRTTAA!!!”
The music picks up pace and Viduus echoes his signature laugh almost matching the song that is playing while throwing his hands in the air. Viduus makes his way to the ring almost floating in the way he walks and moves his shoulders in stride. Viduus slides into the ring and crawls to the middle of the ring. Viduus rises and awaits his opponent in the center of the ring.
POWERS: “And the opponent!”
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 and Adrian Tanner Jr appears standingin the middle of the stage, head covered by the hood of his ring jacket. Red and white spotlights illuminate the stage as the music 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!!!”
As 4CW’s esteemed Ring Announcer does his job, Adrian raises both arms over his head letting them come to rest stretched out in front of him, pointing like guns at the ring. At the announcement of his name he ‘fires’ and loud fireworks explode from the stage as the crowd cheers in approval. 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 “gun”, “fires” then jumps down and begins his pre-match warmup.
JOHNSON: “We have a new comer to 4CW making his debut on live Adrenaline television tonight, Viduus Morta!”
VASSA: “This should be a big moment for him, but it isn’t going to be an easy contest by any means.”
JOHNSON: “Adrian Tanner has been in a small slump as of late but looks poised to turn things around tonight.”
VASSA: “I don’t know who to take in this one. I like what I’ve seen from Viduus so far since signing with 4CW. Adrian’s work speaks for itself. This should be a good one.”
JOHNSON: “It definitely should be!”
Standing in the center of the ring, the official checks in with both corners and gets the nod. As the crowd looks on in anticipation, the official throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

Both men shoot out of their corners and approach each other quickly in the center of the ring. Circling one another, the two look upon each other with caution, not knowing who is going to strike first. Shooting in, Adrian wraps up Morta’s leg and lifts him off his feet before dropping him to the mat with a single leg takedown. Climbing over Morta, Adrian wraps him up and begins driving knees repeatedly into Morta’s ribs.
Pushing himself to his feet, Adrian wastes no time and begins working on Morta’s legs with kicks and stomps. Pulling Morta to his feet, Adrian slaps him across the chest with back to back knife edge chops before locking onto his wrist and whipping him to the far corner.

JOHNSON: “Oh wait, reversal!”
Morta reverses the throw and sends Adrian barreling to the corner. As Adrian hits the corner and bounces forward, Morta then charges towards him full speed with a clothesline. Side stepping Morta, Adrian takes him down face first to the middle turnbuckle with a drop toe hold.
VASSA: “That was a nice little chain of events.”
JOHNSON: “He really rung Viduus’ bell with that drop toe hold.”
Pulling Morta away from the corner and up to his feet, Adrian hooks his arm around his head before grabbing the back of his pants and lifting him into the air for a vertical suplex. Maneuvering himself out of Adrian’s hold, Morta drops down to his feet behind him. Stepping in and dropping to one knee, Morta drives his elbow into Adrian’s back before popping back to a standing position. Lifting Adrian into the air, Morta then drops him over his knee with a backbreaker.
JOHNSON: “I don’t know how he did it but Viduus managed to wiggle himself out of that suplex and turn things around.”
VASSA: “He caught a break by escaping before Adrian could drop him. Not he just has to maintain control of the match.”
Grabbing onto Adrian’s head, Morta pulls him up to his feet before spinning him around and wrapping both arms around his waist. Lifting Adrian off his feet and falling backwards, Morta slams him to the canvas with a German suplex that rattles the entire ring. Bridging the move, Morta pins his shoulders to the mat as the official races over with the count.

Kicking out of the pin, Adrian abruptly stops the officials count. The two then race to their feet, Morta standing first and moving in quickly with a double axe-handle across Adrian’s back, keeping him down on all fours. Pulling Adrian’s head between his legs and wrapping him up around the waist, Morta pulls Adrian up to his feet before lifting him into the air for a powerbomb.
JOHNSON: “Viduus isn’t letting up one bit.”
VASSA: “He’s taking the fight straight to him and I lo–“
JOHNSON: “Watch out now!”
As Morta holds Adrian up in the air, Adrian begins raining down on his head with lefts and rights. Morta begins to lose his balance as each punch lands across his head. Stumbling backwards, Morta loses his footing and falls backwards to the mat as Adrian lands on top of him, still swinging away!
VASSA: “I can’t help but see Adrian going to town on a speed bag right now!”
JOHNSON: “And Morta’s shoulders are down to the mat.”
With Morta’s shoulders pinned to the mat with Adrian on top, the official slides in with the quick count.

Rolling Adrian over to the side, Morta frees himself as well as breaking the officials count. Both men then race to their feet once more, this time standing at the same time. Lunging forward, Adrian attempts to wrap Morta up but comes up empty handed as he ducks underneath his arms passing overhead. Morta then fires back with a shot to the ribs, forcing Adrian to buckle slightly.
Locking onto Adrian’s wrist, Morta then whips him to the far ropes and takes off towards the opposite set of ropes. As both men come back on the rebound and close in on each other in the center of the ring, Morta ducks his shoulder and bursts forward to spear Adrian in the center of the ring.

JOHNSON: “It’s the Soul Rea–“
Jumping into the air as high as he can, Adrian dodges the spear as Morta passes underneath and falls face first to the canvas. Morta instantly pushes himself up and whips around, throwing his arm wildly for Adrian’s head. Leaning back as far as he can, Adrian barely avoids the blow to the head. Retaliating, Adrian kicks Morta in the back of the knee, knocking him off balance and then steps in, grabbing ahold of him. In the blink of an eye, Adrian drops Morta to the canvas with a reverse STO facebuster.
JOHNSON: “The Revolver!”
Rolling over Morta and hooking the leg, Adrian rests his back against Morta for the pin as the official slides in with the count.

VASSA: “Adrian is back in business baby!”
JOHNSON: “He hit The Revolver out of nowhere and ended the night for Viduus before he even knew what hit him.”

Adrian rises to his feet with a cocky smirk on his face as the crowd pops. “Tom Sawyer” hits the speakers as he looks down to Morta and points the finger gun in his direction before taking a shot and blowing his finger as if smoke from a barrel. The official then steps in beside him and raises his arm into the air as the crowd gives him a standing ovation.

We come to a scene in the merchandise and fan access area where the two armed guards and Simon Adessi are frantically pushing through 4CW fans checking behind curtains and in janitor closets in an attempt to find Johnny Evil who ran from their custody earlier in the night after being summoned to the ring by Perry Wallace. After the camera focuses in on Simon Adessi who now has a look of worry and anger on his face, slight commotion is heard behind the camera man.
At this point, the camera pans around just in time to see Johnny Evil hop out from behind the concession stand with a bag of popcorn in his hand and a smirk on his face at the opposite end of the hallway. Johnny tosses some popcorn into the air with a smirk on his face, tilting his head up and catching it in his mouth in a nonchalant manner.

VASSA: ”Look Steve, it’s Johnny Evil!
JOHNSON: ”Evil is doing what we call eluding right now. I don’t think that’s wise. His best option for hiding was in the audience!”
VASSA: “Yeah, until the evacuate the building and then he’s fucked!!”
The camera pans around again, just in time to see Adessi turn his head, spotting Evil.
ADESSI: “Fuck, there he is, GET HIM!!”
Johnny looks back and begins to quicken his pace as Simon Adessi and the two guards begin to give chase. Johnny Evil throws the popcorn into the air and starts booking ass as fast he possibly can, making his way down the hall knocking over trash cans and leaving obstacles behind him to slow the Federal Agents down…


POWERS: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall….”
With the opening instruments of the French Montana and Kodak Black song “Lockjaw” blaring out trough the arena, the lights go off and there is a momentary darkness that fills the place. As the hard hip-hob beats come in with full force and the hook plays, a lone light shines down on the center of the stage. It won’t be soon before Lauryn Wolfe emerges and stands in the light, having most of her face covered up with a handkerchief. Bouncing lightly in place, only her eyes are seen and the camera zooms in on them, capturing the hardened look of her brown eyes as she looks on.
POWERS: “Introducing first… from Seattle, Washington, weighing in at a hundred and twenty-seven pounds, she is “The Reckless One”, LAURYN WWOOLLFFEE!!!”
With announcement of her name, Lauryn breaks out of her intense gaze and gets hyped up, slamming the palms of her hands down to the ground and jumps as the all of the lights now come back on, flashing accordingly to the beat of the song.
“It be hard to watch the cash when the bands keep droppin’
Got the big 40 on me so my pants keep fallin’
It be hard to understand me ’cause my jaw keep lockin'”

The brazen brawler has her arms outstretched and she shouts as she walks briskly down the ramp, coming close to the ring. As she draws closer, Lauryn’s pace then switches as she runs and leaps, sliding underneath the bottom rope before she gets to one knee. She takes the time to look at the entire arena from that position before she gets up, scales the closest turnbuckle near her, and rips the handkerchief off of her face. A sly grin is seen on her face before she throws her head back and let’s out her signature howl; with the crowd proceeding to do so as well.
VASSA: ”*heavy breathing*”
“Bite down, bite down
It be hard to understand me ’cause my jaw keep lockin'”

Lauryn hops down and crouches down in her corner and smirks, looking like a predator ready to hunt for some prey as she waits for the match to get underway. The lights within the arena go pitch-black again.
“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.”

POWERS: ”And her opponent, accompanied to the ring by Bob Fisher…. Standing Six Feet Two Inches tall and weighing in at Two Hundred and Thirty Two pounds.. Hailing from parts unknown… He is… DDYYBBBBUUKK!!!”
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.
VASSA: ”That dude is scary as hell. He has no business being in the ring with a perfect angel like my love.”
JOHNSON: ”I’m beginning to think you’re developing an obsession.
Before the bell can ring, as Lauryn turned her back to focus her thoughts after the rather eerie entrance of her opponent, Dybbuk used the opportunity to attack her from behind with a body splash sandwiching the substantially smaller woman between him and the turnbuckles. Unsurprisingly, Lauryn falls to the mat a bit awkwardly, clutching her stomach and her chest as Dybbuk waylays her with a series of stomps that continue until the referee manages to get control of the masked man and force him back into his own corner. Outside the ring, Fisher smiles with demonic glee. Lauryn uses the time to try and pull herself back to her feet and, seeing no other option, the referee signals for the bell and the official start of the match.

Dybbuk stalks Lauryn slowly, thinking himself to be in full control of the match already but these are the kinds of situations that Lauryn has found herself in time and time again and she’s ready for it as Dybbuk draws near. She responds with a lightning quick kick to Dybbuks thigh, ducking under a wild left hand and countering with a cracking right fist to his jaw that causes the mask the man is wearing to budge just slightly. Infuriated by that, Dybbuk spins and tries to take his opponents head off with a standing clothesline but again Lauryn is quick to avoid the powerful strike and counters with a left fist to Dybbuk’s jaw that snaps his head back in the other direction and drops him to a knee.
JOHNSON: ”Dybbuk is feeling the effect of those powerful blows from Lauryn Wolfe. You’ll remember those are the same fists that broke Eli Carlson’s ribs at Ante Up.
JOHNSON: ”You don’t think that’s a little overboard, Vinny?”
VASSA: ”Shut up Steve. My baby is in danger!”
Lauryn bounces off the ropes and comes back towards Dybbuk, spinning and connecting with a discus clothesline just as the man is starting to stand back up. It doesn’t knock him down, but it does cause him to stagger backwards a few steps. A bit shocked, Lauryn hesitates and then closes in on Dybbuk once more, this time standing him straight up with a european uppercut. Before she can chain that into another move, however, Dybbuk wraps his arms around her waist and tosses her over his head into the nearby corner where her body, a second time, slams off the turnbuckle padding and collapses to the ground in an awkward position.
Outside the ring the seriousness that had appeared on Bob’s face was now gone and the sinister smile back in its rightful place as Dybbuk reaches down and drags Lauryn upwards by her hair. With ease he flips her around and upside down, driving her back first into the corner and releasing her into a tree of woe position. Needless to say that’s not a position that anyone should want to be in when facing Dybbuk and he takes the time to show the world exactly why as he unleashes a flurry of strikes and kicks to the exposed torso of Lauryn Wolfe. When the referee finally steps in and forces him to back off, the sound of his laughter can be heard reverberating through his mask. Once the ref is out of the way, Dybbuk uses the space in the ring to gain momentum and baseball slide directly into Lauryns face. Her body contorts in an unnatural way before finally crumbling completely to the mat, free from the position Dybbuk had hung her in moments earlier but in far worse condition.
Back on his feet, Dybbuk drags Lauryn to the middle of the ring where he leaps and lands a double foot stomp across her chest. Without a moment’s pause, he turns and reaches down, deadlifting Lauryn up into the air and tossing her haphazardly and violently back down to the mat in a show of sheer strength. As he repositions himself, Bob Fisher hops up onto the ring apron and begins to distract the referee who is screaming at him to get down. Meanwhile, Dybbuk mounts Lauryn and begins heartlessly choking the life out of her with his bare hands. Her legs kick and her arms spasm in panic but Dybbuk is in the most advantageous position he can be in. His size and strength on display as there is little she can do to get out of the illegal move while the referee isn’t paying attention.

VASSA: ”Oh hellllllllllllll no I don’t think so.”
VASSA: ”I’ll be right back Steve. I’m going to teach this masked bitch and his life partner a lesson.”
The sound of a headset being slammed down onto a table echo’s loudly as the camera’s suddenly redirect their shots to find Vinny Vassa leaving the commentators booth and making his way to where Bob Fisher is standing where he grabs him by the ankle and yanks him off of the ring apron, causing Fisher’s face to smack off the edge of the ring, busting his nose which results in blood beginning to pour profusely from both of his nostrils. In pain the manager holds his nose in pain as Vassa shouts obscenities at him. Distracted by what was happening outside of the ring, Dybbuk gets up and storms angrily over to the ropes and points at Vassa while the referee turns his attention to Lauryn Wolfe, who is down in the ring and lifeless.
As if to taunt the masked man more, Vinny points at him and then kicks Bob Fisher squarely in the family jewels, buckling the bloody nosed man to his knees. Having had enough of that nonsense, Dybbuk begins to step through the ropes to go after the commentator only to find the fat man reaching into his pocket where he pulls out a bottle of shitty patchouli oil, probably stolen from Perry Wallace’s luggage, and splashes it into Dybbuks face causing the man to howl out in pain and stumble back through the ropes. Somehow, in the ring, Lauryn Wolfe has just gotten back to her feet. She grabs Dybbuks shoulder with both hands and spins him towards her. FIERY IMPULSE. Drained of energy from nearly being choked to death, Lauryn scrambles for the pin not bothering to hook the leg as the referee, shocked at the turn of events, hesitates before dropping to the mat.


Neither Dybbuk, nor Lauryn, moves as the referee signals for the bell. Outside the ring, Vinny tries to roll himself into the ring but can’t get his leg up high enough and eventually, out of breath, decides to go take the steel ring steps.

JOHNSON: ”I’m really not sure what the hell I just witnessed….”
POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… LAURYN WWOOLLFFEE!!!”
Vassa, shooing the referee away, kneels down and helps a dazed Lauryn back up to her feet and raises her hand in the air. Knowing that Dybbuk and Fisher would both soon be awake and looking to hurt someone, Vassa blows lets go of Lauryns hand and blows her a kiss before rolling his fat ass out of the ring and scrambling back to the commentators booth. The scene fades backstage as Lauryn looks confused at what just happened but relieved and thrilled that the losing streak she had been on was finally at its end.

We cut to the back, where we find The “Young Gun” Brandon Young, Manager Extraordinaire to Adrian Tanner Junior, wandering around. In one hand is a six-pack of water bottles, that he is presumably taking to his friend/managee. In the other, a 2-liter of orange soda.
YOUNG: “Whoooo loves Orange Soda? Brandon loves Orange Soda! I do I do I do-ooooh!”
He continues walking, ignoring the strange looks of the people he passes, as usual for Brandon, until he hears a faint ‘crunch’ sound underneath his shoe.
YOUNG: “What the- Oooh, piece of candy.”
He glances down at the floor, noticing one of those hard candies with the strawberry wrapper you only really notice during Christmastime because of candy wreathes. He picks it up off the floor, opens it, and eats it, then moves his foot seeing the broken pieces of another one underneath it.
YOUNG: “Awwww… Oooh, piece of candy!”
Luckily it doesn’t take him long to find another a few feet down the hallway.
YOUNG: “Oooh, piece of candy!”
And another.
YOUNG: “Oooh, piece of candy!”
And another…
YOUNG: “Am I really falling for this- Oooh piece of candy!”
Annnnnd another, leading him even further down the hallway until he gets to a branching section going two different directions to the right and left.
YOUNG: “Okay okay, even I’m not this dumb, right? I gotta stop this. Surely there’s some weird Evil Plot going on here, right? Right. “
YOUNG: “Alright. Now that that’s settled, let’s get this stuff to where it needs to go- Wait what the hell’s that?”
His head tilts in confusion at something off screen down the right hallway. He turns down the way to go see what it is, but when the camera turns to follow him-
He’s just… gone.
And we cut to commercial.

”Unsung” breaks the silence, the Greensboro crowd getting excited for the imminent arrival of Bryan Williams. Bryan wastes no time, stepping out through the back onto the stage. The 4CW Pride championship resting snugly on his suit jacket, Bryan looks determined as he looks out into the crowd. No time for posing, or being in the moment, Bryan heads straight towards the ring. Business seems to be on his mind tonight.
VASSA: “Well thankfully we’re being greeted tonight with the presence of the 4CW Pride champion.”
JOHNSON: “I can hear the sarcasm in your voice, Vinny.”
VASSA: “No sarcasm here, it’s nice to see Bryan out here addressing this crowd. Probably the last time he will be able to do so as Pride champion!”
Bryan, making a beeline for the ring, doesn’t even allow Powers to introduce him. He enters the ring, waving off the ring announcer as Mike Powers hands him the microphone. Bryan adjusts his jacket, straightening the cuffs out as he prepares himself. Taking his time, the crowd murmurs among itself. Some cheer, others heckle, but eventually they all begin to quiet down as Bryan brings the microphone up to speak.
WILLIAMS: “I’ve been thinking, recently. With current events in 4CW it’s getting harder and harder to accomplish things. There always seems to be somebody out there wanting to ruin it all. Somebody just waiting to turn your day sour, and that’s kind of sad…”
Bryan pauses for a moment, the crowd staying silent.
WILLIAMS: “There’s a lot of great talent in this company, people who work hard every single time they step into this ring. Along with myself, I’ve seen them falter at times. I’ve seen them come up short, or have people wanting to hold them back. What gets me, what impresses me is that these people never give in. They don’t give up when things don’t go their way. They keep fighting, they keep working to achieve the dreams and goals they have in mind.
It’s inspiring in a way, because I can see myself in these few. These are people that I know strives to be better every single night, but they just haven’t quite had that lucky break yet. They just haven’t been able to get that monkey off their back. So it made me step back and think, what could I do to help? I’ve been in their situations before. I know the hardships they face, the struggles that they see. Could I offer them advice? It’s a solid thought, but it doesn’t really help out in the long run now does it?”

Bryan pauses again, shaking his head. He paces around the ring, the crowd cheering in small pockets.
WILLIAMS: “So I kept thinking, and then it finally hit me. What if I took these people, and grouped them together? What if we pooled our resources, and used that to further ourselves in this company? No longer would they have to worry about working solo. No longer would they be pushed around by those who seek to do them harm. Instead we stand together, because we shouldn’t have to wait for our turn. We shouldn’t have to wait for our time, that time is right NOW!”
The crowd cheers, seemingly agreeing with what Bryan has to say. The Pride champion adjusts the title still on his shoulder, as he looks towards the back.
WILLIAMS: “So right now, I’d like these people to come out. Manny, Lauryn, and Sativa …Come on out here.”
The crowd cheers, many of the names recognizable favorites that they cheer for normally.
JOHNSON: “Manny, Lauryn and Sativa?”
VASSA: “What is this? What’s Bryan got in mind here tonight?”
JOHNSON: “It sounds like he’s putting together a faction of some kind!”
VASSA: “Boo! How drab, fight your own battles Williams!”
FERNANDEZ: “Hey yo. How you doing, mang?”
The crowd erupts in cheers at Mariano’s greeting.
FERNANDEZ: “You chicos, you know who I am. But you don’t know why I’m here. See, back before Fright Night, we made a bet with Bryan – was the Packers vs. Cowboys game. Now you know which teams we rootin’ for and you know how that game went, so you know I paid for the drinks. So we went to this place, had a few rounds and played a few videogames, and we figured “hey, ya know what? All of these things on Twitter we do got people laughing their asses off, mang, especially when we’re beating the crap out of paper-skinned milkdrinkers.”
And there it dawned on me, mang. I figure, here’s a shitposter like Bryan – He looks at Bryan and raises his hand in an apologetic gesture. – No offense here, mang, don’t anyone get any funny ideas! – and on the other hand, you’ve got… DA #TROLL GUY. So hey, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship, mang!”

The crowd once again goes wild as Mariano throws his arms around and gives his trademark trollface.
JOHNSON: “Manny might have some weird logic sometimes, but I think that one makes sense.”
VASSA: “They went on their honeymoon yet?”
JOHNSON: “Give it a rest, Vinny.”
VASSA: “Hey, I’m all for marriage equality!”
FERNANDEZ: “So in between that, the friendly back-and-forth on the Internet – because hey, chicos, in these times of anonymity and shit, not everyone HAS to be a prick! -, the Babe Bacon Special burgers – mang, those were tasty as all hell -, and that nice Thanksgiving dinner at Bruan’s house, and we were like “Shitposter like Bryan, Trigger Queen like Lauryn, a Griefer like Sativa, and DA #TROLL GUY? The Internet will have fits, mang!”
JOHNSON: “He’s right, you know. Twitter is blowing up right now!”
VASSA: “Cue the fanfics of group sex between all of them.”
JOHNSON: “What are you prattling on about?”
VASSA: “I guess you and I visit different websites.”
FERNANDEZ: “So to finish, mang, let me just say it’s my honor here to stand among all of these fine people, and one thing’s for certain, chicos: We’re gonna have a hell of a lot of FUN!”
The crowd applauses after Mariano’s speech, and as he takes a step back, Lauryn Wolfe would be next to have the mic. The Seattle native is chuckling as she shakes her head, bringing the mic up to her mouth as she addresses the crowd.
WOLFE: “Oh boy, I already know what’s gonna come out of your mouths. I bet that everyone here is going to say that I’m going to need help from now on all because I’ve decided to associate myself with a few people. I get why you guys would have that idea. After all, I’m nothing more but a big choker that can never live up to my potential, right? I definitely need some people to fight my battles from now on!”
Of course, the signature sarcasm of Lauryn Wolfe comes out, and the young woman laughs for a little bit before she averts her gaze from the crowd to the camera. The tone in her voice becomes a little bit more serious as she continued on.
WOLFE: “At this point, you guys can say whatever you want about me, but I’m here to let each and every one of you know that just because I’m part of this little circle now doesn’t mean that I’m going to have Manny, Sativa or Bryan do the job for me. That’s not who I am at all. I never got here to take the easy way out. Even if my career here has been less than stellar, that doesn’t mean that I’m going to stop fighting. I’m not a quitter. I keep on pushing through the obstacles because that’s just who I am. However, at the same time, I also know that there are things that I need to work on; things that I won’t be able to get if I just go in blindly and swing wildly for the fences. I think that there are a few things that I can learn about, and, well…”
Lauryn smirks and looks back at Bryan, Mariano and Sativa.
WOLFE: “I think I’ve found the right people who can help me out. After all, these three incredible people have accomplished a lot in their career and have achieved a lot more success than I have. If I want to improve and better myself as a wrestler, then I can learn how to do that with the help of these three.”
Lauryn nods her head towards her new comrades before she looks back at the crowd.
WOLFE: “Anyways, this isn’t some cute little stable that’s going to get a little bit of hype one minute and then fizzle out the next. Each of us are looking to make an impact here in 4CW, and I say that by the look of things, it won’t be soon before long when we ascend the ranks of this place and put the entire roster on notice. We’re nothing more but a pack of hungry wolves ready to tear into the competition, and I can assure you all that we’re coming in strong. It’s not arrogance. It’s not wishful thinking or empty promises. It’s just the truth, and as you guys know, I always tell the truth.”
Lauryn then winks and flashes a smile before she takes a step back.
The intro to “Fucking in the Bushes” by Oasis kicks up. The crowd instantly starts to boo knowing who is coming out now.
”We put this festival on you bastards! With a lot of love.
We worked for one year for you pigs.
And you want to break our walls down? You want to destroy it?
Well, you got to Hell!”

The guitars kick in and the crowd increases their volume to be heard. Sativa comes out from the back with the XTV title strapped around her waist and a mic in her hand.
The music stops as Sativa continues to make her way to the ring. She stops at the bottom of the ramp and starts pacing, almost like a caged animal.
NEVAEH: ”Bry, Bry, Bry. How long we known each other? How long we been friends? You know more than anyone that I am not really a follower. I’ve had Wallace on my ass almost since day one of me joining up here. Not to mention everyone else that has had an issue with me. Like Manny said, they are some thin skinned Milk drinkers. But that has never once stopped me for coming out here and beating ass. Win, lose, or draw I still beat people senseless. People who think that they know what’s best for me.”
Sativa makes her way towards the ring and slides in under the bottom rope. She stands up and is opposite the other three.
NEVAEH: ”People like you are being right now, BRAUN.”
VASSA: “Uh-oh, it looks like Sativa might not be to keen on Bryan’s idea.”
JOHNSON: “But she just said they have been friends for a long time!”
VASSA: “Yeah but this new Sativa isn’t one to be trifled with.”
NEVAEH: ”I have always been one to do my own thing. Last time I tried to get some like minded people together Wallace gave me the boot. You think I want that now? I have a title, I earned on my own. I am on the top of the world. Why would I want to team with some wanna be Twitter famous rejects?”
Bryan, Lauren, and Mariano all look at each other confused. This obviously isn’t going the way they thought. Sativa meanwhile unhooks the XTV title and lays it on the mat. She then turns her malevolent glare to each one in turn, balling up her free hand.
JOHNSON: “We might be in for a fight folks!”
VASSA: “I know Sativa isn’t all there anymore, but taking on three talented roster members at once is a little much, even for her.”
Sativa takes a step forward, over her XTV title, her eyes darting from person to person. She get up into Bryan’s face, a heinous scowl on her face. She then bursts into laughter and embraces Bryan in a hug. Bewilderment plastered over the others faces.
NEVAEH: ”Holy shit! If you guys could have seen your faces. That was fucking classic! Sure, I’ll look after your guys’ asses for ya. I’ll even do your dirty work. But don’t think for one second I will get in on any goody goody, touchy feely type shit.”
Sativa steps back and picks up her title and throws it over her shoulder before standing beside Bryan.
WILLIAMS: “It’s real simple, we’re here to get what we want done. Better together than on our own. This isn’t about the next generation, or the past …It’s about right now. We’re Generation Now. Keep watching, it only gets better from here.”
With that, Bryan drops the microphone as the Pride champion stands in the ring with his new stablemates. The crowd seems to be into it, cheering for the four as they stand tall in the ring. With that we cut away for a moment.

All had come alive as the first thing seen was that of a scenic view of Newcastle as in the near-view was that of a large, but empty parking lot from an angled view. The ‘pearly whites’ of Hopkins shined bright through the pixels of the high-quality live video feed from his phone as he held it up, adjusting to get a corrected stance. He pointed behind him and down in front of him as he leaned the phone in the direction, showing the greyish surface with green edge.
HOPKINS: “Don’t ask me how I got up here … Just know ya’ boy is up here atop with the lovely ass view of Newcastle, standing along the arch of the Metro Radio Arena. I mean damn, look at this beautiful view!”
Hopkins showcases a little more of the beautiful view from his point of view as he smiled happily. In his throwback Avirex Varsity jacket and the Yankees cap turned backwards, the telling of light wind blew against his baggy dark-grey sweats.
HOPKINS: “I bet if Eli and his wife are watching, they probably hoping and wishing a ni–Ooo…Prolly wishing ya boy fall off this bitch and down onto the asphalt. Be the easiest win in his career, wouldn’t it? Mmhm, but no worries Eli, I’m not tripping. These Timbs do not fail with the deep cuts the sole provide as it holds one hell of a grip. In case you don’t know, I’m enjoying every bit of England before our epic showdown man. Looking forward to it.
I know you probably aint giving a flying duck what I’m gonna say but I just want to let you know I’m looking forward to seeing what you gonna bring on the biggest stage of all man. I figured you would’ve faltered by this point, but you showed balls. Plenty of which I will proceed to stomp on like I’m mushing grapes for wine. I know and you know, talk will become cheap come the twenty-eigth but I just wanted to make sure you know. Your ass is mines. All of everything you’ve managed to pull off, consequences will finally be felt.”

Hopkins let off a laugh, kind of psychotic-type laugh as he shook his head.
HOPKINS: “O’GOD! Like Big Mama waved that thick ass belt for the misbehaving granchild. Run if you want Eli but there’s that proverbial dead-end. I will never run nor hide. That’s not my archetype. Not how I came up. Again kid, I’m looking forward to giving these fans over here one hell of a matchup and pinning you in that ring or anywhere applicable. Hell, if you play your cards right, we might just … end the hell up here on the roof. Wouldn’t that be something?!”
Hearing doors open and close, the sighting of the English guards who obviously were staking out inside of the arena had made themselves visible, looking up at Hopkins who’s eyes went wide.
Hopkins looked back into his phone camera before throwing up the Peace sign.
HOPKINS: “Been real fam’ … See ya’ll on the other side!”
Immediately the feed cut leaving things to sit back to ringside.


POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
As the opening of “Nightmare” by Avenged Sevenfold begins to play over the arena, a video flashes on the big screen of a camera shot panning up a grassy hill at night, slowly until it gets to the top. Panning from left to right, lighting flashing in the sky as the opening guitar riff begins to sound.
POWERS: “Introducing to the ring from Anaheim, California, weighing in at one hundred twenty five pounds and standing five feet, seven inches tall! She is the “Nightmare”, NIOBE MMAARRTTIINN!!!”
The video on the screen then switches to a video package of Niobe in the ring, flashing and moving in time with the drum beat.
Now your nightmare comes to life..”

Niobe comes running out from behind the curtain, stopping at the top of the ramp briefly to extend her arms out to the sides as a blast of pyro goes off on either side of her.
“Dragged you down below…
Down to the devils show…
To be his guest forever…
Peace of mind is less than never..”

As the lyrics of the song continue to play, she drops her arms and walks down the ramp, a smirk on her face as she sneers at the crowd as she passes before sliding under the bottom rope of the ring. She stands up and throws off the hood of her jacket, glaring at the crowd with a smirk on her face.
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: “Can you believe that 4CW has been in business for three years now and these two have not had a one on one match yet?”
JOHNSON: “I’m just as surprised as you are. These two have been signed with 4CW since the beginning almost and here we are, three years later and they’re finally stepping into the ring to square off.”
VASSA: “Two 4CW originals facing off right here in Greensboro, North Carolina! They should have held this match at Winter Wasteland.”
JOHNSON: “I can’t disagree with you there, Vinny.”
VASSA: “It is what it is, I suppose. At least the fans in the states will get to witness this match in person!”
JOHNSON: “4CW started in America, so I guess it’s fitting that this had to happen in America.”
VASSA: “It would have been even better if this match was booked in our back year, the Southwest!”
JOHNSON: “I know Christmas is right around the corner, but you may be asking for a little too much.”
VASSA: “Well, it isn’t the first time I don’t get everything that I ask for.”
JOHNSON: “That’s because your name is on the naughty list I’m sure.”
VASSA: “On your mom’s naughty list…”
In the center of the ring, the official waits patiently as both wrestlers are in their corners. Checking in with Niobe, he gets a nod before turning to Raab. After a slight pause, Raab gives the official the nod. With both wrestlers ready for the start of the match, the official throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

Both Raab and Niobe step away from their corners and approach each other, stopping face to face in the center of the ring. The two stare at one another for a few moments, looking each other up and down as the crowd grows louder and louder in the background.
JOHNSON: “Three years in the making folks.”
VASSA: “Three years too many for these two to finally collide inside of a 4CW ring.”
JOHNSON: “Well it all goes down tonight!”
VASSA: “What’s that black armband with the German and Berlin flags on it that Raab is wearing?”
JOHNSON: “I ‘m not quite sure but I think it’s in memory of the victims lost in the Berlin attacks.”
VASSA: “Rest in peace.”
The tension rises between the two before something unexpected happens. Catching Niobe off guard, Raab extends his hand as a sign of respect. Looking down to it, Niobe pauses for a slight moment before looking back up to Raab. With a smirk on her face, she swats his hand aside and then follows up with a kick to Raab’s gut.
JOHNSON: “She’s all business tonight!”
VASSA: “Maybe they’ll shake hands after the match is over?”
Lunging over, Raab extends his arm and pushes himself back up to a standing position. Swinging upward, Raab connects with a European uppercut, sending Niobe stumbling backwards. As she hits the ropes, Niobe bounces off and falls forward into Raab’s arms. Wrapping both arms around Niobe, Raab then lifts her off her feet and throws her over his head with a belly to belly suplex. Flipping in mid-air, Niobe manages to land on her feet as Raab’s back slaps the canvas.
As Raab rolls over to his side, Niobe turns to the ropes behind her and takes off in their direction. Hitting the ropes and coming back on the rebound, Niobe closes in on Raab as he pushes himself up to all fours and drives both feet into the side of his head with a dropkick. Back on her feet, Niobe quickly pulls Raab’s arm out from under him and fully extends it. Locking onto it with both hands, she then pops up to a hand stand before coming down and driving her knee into his elbow.

VASSA: “Oh man I don’t think his elbow is supposed to bend that way.”
JOHNSON: “I’m not doctor Vinny but I think you may be right.”
Popping back up into another hand stand, Niobe comes down again even harder with another knee to Raab’s elbow. She then pulls him up to his feet before locking onto his wrist Locking in an arm bar. With Raab’s arm fully extended, Niobe then slams her elbow over the back of Raab’s. She then whips him to the far ropes and as he comes back on the rebound, she turns around and leaps onto the middle ropes behind her. Springboarding off the middle rope, Niobe quickly spins around and locks her legs around Raab’s head as he closes in, lifting him off his feet and flipping him to the side with a hurricanrana.
JOHNSON: “Raab clearly has the size advantage over Niobe but with moves like that, she can use her speed and agility to out maneuver him.”
On her feet, Niobe turns to the corner just on the other side of Raab and races over to it. Leaping over Raab’s body, she plants her feet on the bottom ropes before ascending to the top. Once overlooking the crowd, Niobe takes a moment to play to the Greensboro crowd as they cheer on for the two 4CW originals. Getting caught up in the moment, she takes a few too many moments, giving Raab time to slowly get back to his feet. Niobe then leaps backwards away from the corner with a backflip but as her body faces Raab, he catches her in mid-air.
VASSA: “Oh no! He’s got her!”
JOHNSON: “She didn’t even look behind her before going for whatever move she was attempting. This could have all been avoided if she would have checked his position.”
Raab then drops down to one knee and slams Niobe’s shoulder down onto his elevated knee! Keeping her in his clutches, Raab stands back to his feet before running towards the corner and slamming Niobe’s back into it. As he lets her go, Niobe’s legs hook over the top ropes, leaving her hanging upside down. Raab then grabs onto the top rope for leverage as he begins stomping her mid-section repeatedly. Racing over, the official yells for Raab to back away but gets ignored in return. With no other choice, he then begins the five count.
“One! … Two!”

Kicking away at her stomach, Raab pays the official no mind.
“Three! … Four!”

Lifting his foot high above the mat, Raab then kicks down, driving his foot into Niobe’s face.

Before the official can completely say five, Raab steps away from the corner, leaving Niobe upside down momentarily before she drops head first onto the canvas and her body folds over.
JOHNSON: “A split second more and Niobe would have won this thing by disqualification.”
VASSA: “That was a tough spot for Niobe to be in. Luckily she had that five count in her favor.”
JOHNSON: “It’s funny how those things work sometimes.”
The official keeps himself between Raab and Niobe, making sure Raab stays back as Niobe slowly comes to her senses and uses the ropes to pull herself up. Shoving the official out of the way, Raab charges in, taking an overhead swing for Niobe’s head. Ducking out of the way, Niobe avoids Raab’s fist as it crashes down onto the top turnbuckle instead. She then drives her shoulder into Raab’s stomach, knocking the air from his lungs. Popping back up, Niobe chops both sides of Raab’s neck before locking onto his head with both hands. Dropping to her knees, she pulls his head down onto her head and knocks him off his feet with a jawbreaker.
VASSA: “He could have bitten his tongue off with that move!”
JOHNSON: “Now that would have been a bloody, nasty sight to see.”
VASSA: “I’d puke right here at the booth and it sure as shit wouldn’t be from all this liquor.”
Crawling over Raab’s back, Niobe applies a crossface and locks it in tight.
JOHNSON: “That’s a bad spot to be in!”
Just as she applies the pressure, Raab extends his arm and grabs onto the bottom rope. The official quickly takes notice and yells for Niobe to release the hold but she refuses! As Niobe continues to crank down on the pressure, the official bends over and begins yelling the five count in her ear.
“One! … Two! … Three!”

Refusing to let go, Niobe crushes Raab’s face.
“Four! … Fi–“

Releasing the crossface in the blink of an eye, Niobe stops the five count before pushing herself up with a smirk on her face. She slowly backs away from Raab, giving him space to slowly begins pushing himself up and regaining himself. As he fully stands, Niobe then charges in and ducks down, driving her shoulder into his stomach and slamming his back against the corner. She then pulls away and takes a step back before unloading with a kicking combination to Raab’s upper legs and mid-section. Taking another step back, Niobe draws her fist back before stepping forward and lunging towards Raab, connecting with a vicious right to the temple.
JOHNSON: “She may be small but dang if she doesn’t pack quite a punch!”
VASSA: “She’s the perfect girl to bring home to mama!”
With Raab in a daze, Niobe locks onto his wrist and shoulder, ripping him away from the corner and spinning him around. As Raab wobbles back and forth, she then climbs the corner and makes her way to the top. As she turns around to face Raab, her eyes light up as he’s snapped out of his daze and steps in towards her. Raising both hands above her head and locking them, Niobe then jumps down from the corner and goes for a double axe-handle.
JOHNSON: “Raab’s got her!”
Catching Niobe in mid-air with his hand wrapped around her throat, Raab quickly turns around and slams Niobe down to her back with a powerful chokeslam while dropping to both knees.
JOHNSON: “Oh man, The Chokinator!”
With his hand still around her throat, Raab stands back to his feet, pulling Niobe up as well. He then lifts her into the air and drops her with a double arm brainbuster in the center of the ring.
VASSA: “Five dollars, buster! This is just terrible!”
Making the cover, Raab hooks Niobe’s leg as the official slides in with the count.

JOHNSON: “That’s it folks! This one is in the books.”
VASSA: “Just when Niobe had the momentum in her favor, Raab caught her off guard and ended her night in the blink of an eye.”
“Monster” hits the speakers as Raab slowly rises to his feet to the sound of cheers from the crowd in attendance. With a smile on his face, Raab begins to get emotional, listening to the fans calling his name. Stepping in beside him, the official then grabs Raab’s arm and raises it into the air. Instantly, the entire arena erupts with even louder cheers.

POWERS: “Here is your winner by pinfall… LORD RRAAAABB!!!”

The scene opens up to the backstage area where Adessi and the guards are still looking for Johnny Evil. At this point, they have become so frustrated that they are personally kicking in every locker room door in hopes of finding him. Adessi radios in giving knowledge that the exits are now locked down and nobody is to leave the arena without being scouted out first.
One of the guards kicks in a locker room door and charges in unannounced. The camera man follows him in and catches glimpse of Johnny’s prison jumper laying on the ground along with a message written with spray paint on the wall saying…

Evil Was Here
Adessi rushes in behind them and his eyes widen when he sees the message as he clenches his fists.
ADESSI: ”I don’t fucking like this, he’s playing games with us now!”
Instantly another smash is heard as the second guard kicks in the locker room door adjacent to the one with the message on the wall. Quickly the camera man scurries out into the hallway and into the locker room that was just kicked in. Zooming in the guard approaches someone who is sitting on the locker room bench. As the camera comes into focus, you notice it is Dybuuk strangely watching as the guard searches his locker room.
Adessi charges in at this moment.

ADESSI :”Have you seen Johnny Evil?”
With confused body language, Dybuuk gives a shrug of the shoulders. Adessi continues to look around the locker room for a moment before looking at the guards.
ADESSI: ”Fuck, he’s not in here, this can’t be happening!!”
Adessi and the guards exit the locker room as the camera man rushes to follow them. They get a ways down the hallway to the next locker room and before kicking it in, they notice Dybuuk walking down the hallway.
ADESSI: ”Wait? Fuck!! Go back, hurry!!”
They run back into the previous locker room they just left only to find the Dybuuk mask Johnny Evil had taken from the merchandise stand laying on the locker room bench, with no sign of Evil.
At this point, they begin rushing down the hallway blowing past the real Dybuuk who is now confused as all hell as to what’s going on.

VASSA: ”What a moron, Evil’s going to lose all his chances at being a free man at Winter Warzone!”
JOHNSON: ”Well, right now he’s managed to be like Houdini to the FBI at this point!”
VASSA: “Trust me, fucking with our federal government is not a good idea. Evil will get his, just you wait!!”

The scene transitions backstage where we find Perry Wallace sitting behind the desk of an office. With a phone held to his ear, he scribbles down notes with the pen in his other hand.
WALLACE: “Yes, next week in England. Just make it happen.”
Listening to the person on the other end of the line, he continues taking notes with a slightly irritated look on his face.
WALLACE: “I don’t know, just do whatever you think looks good to present it. You’re the designer, not me.”
Leaning back in his chair, be rubs his forehead as the camera microphone picks up the sounds coming from the receiver of his cell phone, but no clear words can be heard.
WALLACE: “Three years. Three fucking years and still putting asses in the seats. We’ve outlasted any of the other self proclaimed ‘Big Four’. We’ve outlasted just about every single small time hole in the wall that opens up thinking it’s going to be the next biggest thing only to fade out of existence in the blink of an eye. Make that shit extravagant!”
Perry’s temper begins to show as the voice on the other end begins to annoy him.
WALLACE: “It’s going to be a goddamn ceremony! You’re the professional, not me. Just draw up some sketches and have them in my inbox tomorrow.”
Leaning forward, Perry rests his elbow onto the desk and lays his head down in the palm of his hand.
WALLACE: “What do you me–“
Popping his head up, he pulls the phone away from his ear and looks at it in anger.
Angry, he then presses his thumb against the screen of the phone before tossing it onto the desk.
WALLACE: “Jesus fucking Christ! What’s so har–“
The door to the office then swings open as Jack Vaughn steps inside with a smirk on his face.
VAUGHN: “You really need to learn to control that temper, Perry.”
Shooting his eyes in Jack’s direction, Perry pushes himself away from the desk as he stands to his feet.
WALLACE: “You’ve got some fucking nerve showing your face around here after that stunt you and Evil pulled.”
VAUGHN: “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Those were your orders, not mine.”
Throwing the pen across the desk, Perry takes a step back.
WALLACE: “Bull-fucking-shit! You know goddamn well I had nothing to do with that. If it wasn’t for that clause in your contract you’d already be gone. I would have canned you the moment Kaysie laid you out with that kick across the side of your ugly fucking face!”
Shaking his head with a smile on his face, Jack adjusts the collar of his shirt before responding.
VAUGHN: “Temper, temper, temper… I told you from day one that I was a business man. I made damn sure to protect my end. I’m not the one making calls and putting bounties on people’s head though.”
WALLACE: “You set me up you son of a bitch!”
VAUGHN: “I did no such thing. I just did my job and relayed a message given to me by my employer. But what’s this Hall of Fame talk I overheard?”
WALLACE: “Maybe if you could be trusted and weren’t collecting a free paycheck you’d know a thing or two. But here we are.”
VAUGHN: “Here we are. One of us could be looking at criminal charges while the other could be looking at control of 4CW. I think we both know who is who.”
Stepping around the desk, Wallace moves in closer until standing face to face with Jack.
WALLACE: “You can’t force me out of my own goddamn company!”
VAUGHN: “I’ve done no such thing. You did this to yourself. Hell, Kaysie isn’t even around to stand by your side any more.”
Growing red in the face, Perry’s fists tighten as his breathing grows heavier and heavier.
VAUGHN: “Where is the ‘Queen’ by the way?”
WALLACE: “You just missed her.”
VAUGHN: “Well isn’t that nice. Give her my regards. I hope she enjoys planning a wedding that you’re probably not going to even be able to atte–.”
Hacking up a mouthful of saliva, Wallace then spits down onto Jack’s shoes.
VAUGHN: “That temper of yours. It’s going to cost you dearly one day. Enjoy freedom while it lasts, Perry. I’ll leave you be.”
Winking at Perry, Jack turns his back to him before heading to the door. Stopping in his tracks, he looks over his shoulder to Perry who stares back in return, red in the face.
VAUGHN: “Good luck with the Hall of Fame ceremony next week. It’s probably going to be the last big event you attend for a very, very long time.”
Stepping through the doorway, Jack turns to his right before disappearing. Taking a few steps backwards, Wallace bumps into the desk before dropping down and sitting on the top of it.
WALLACE: “It’s going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me you piece of shit.”

A locker room door opens up and Johnny Evil peeks his head out into the hallway. As he does, the locker room door is kicked in causing Evil to stumble backward. One of the guards tackles him to the locker room floor. Evil struggles to get free as Simon Adessi and the other guard enter the locker room in a rapid and aggressive force.
ADESSI: ”Got you!”
Johnny continues to struggle as both guards have him on the floor and are trying to restrain him. He begins tossing elbows behind him in an attempt to fight him off, causing one of the guards to draw his gun on Johnny planting it in his back. At this point Evil stops resisting.
Adessi walks closer and pulls a tazer from the other guards belt and cranks it up, driving it into Johnny’s ribs after they pull him to sitting position. Both guards look at Adessi, now out of breath from the fight Johnny put up. With an angry look, makes a demand…

ADESSI: ”Well, what are you waiting for, cuff him and whoop his ass!”
As one of the guards looks to the camera man, Adessi pushes him out into the hallway and slams the locker room door shut. At this point you begin here struggling and grunts of pain from Johnny before the scene fades.


VASSA: “We have a good one in store for you next folks!”
JOHNSON: “That we sure do. Eddie Valentine has looked up to Scott Stevens ever since he was a kid and tonight, he’ll step into the ring against his childhood hero.”
VASSA: “They’ve been in the ring together before but tonight will be the first time it’s only them and no one else. The last time, which was two weeks ago in fact, Eddie has said to have been disappointed with his hero’s performance.”
JOHNSON: “It’s been an interesting exchange between the two over the last few weeks. Some would even question if Scott Stevens’ career is slowly diminishing.”
VASSA: “I wouldn’t go that far! The talent pool here in 4CW is deep. Losses happen and with talent like this on deck, it’s literally anyone’s night to grab the win.”
JOHNSON: “Both men have been on a bit of a losing streak you could say. A win for either will definitely move them in the right direction. But what will it do for the one who doesn’t have their hand raised at the end?”
VASSA: “It just puts them back to where they were before tonight’s match. No one is going to come in here and get easy wins. It’s how they handle defeat and push forward that defines them.”

POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen, our following main event is scheduled for one fall!”
Lights out.
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 in at five foot ten inches, and a slim trim one hundred ninety-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.
POWERS: “And the opponent!”
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: “I just don’t see it. He looks to have plenty of more fight left in him.”
JOHNSON: “I guess we’ll find out soon enough when he steps through those ropes and faces off with what could have been his biggest fan at one point in time.”
The cheers intensify as the chorus hits the speakers, drawing out the man from Texas.
POWERS: “Introducing at this time, coming to the ring from the great state of Texas, by way of Houston!”
Walking down the aisle, he fists bumps some of his fans while raising a fist at a few of the more vocal bashers.
POWERS: “Standing six feet, six inches tall 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 Eddie.
An icy glare and the throat slash gesture his only actions as he drops to the mat.
JOHNSON: “Well both men are now in the ring and there’s only one thing left to do!”
VASSA: “Watch closely folks because we’re going to find out first hand whether this old dog still has a lot of fight in him or if the younger generation will take him to pasture.”
JOHNSON: “I can feel the energy radiating from the ring as we speak. These two are going to blow the roof off of the Greensboro Coliseum Complex.”
VASSA: “Awesome! Maybe we won’t ever have to come back to this shit city again!”
Bouncing back and forth in his corner, Eddie is eager to get things started as his eyes remain locked on Stevens. Across the ring, Stevens pulls on the top rope a few times before standing tall and cutting his eyes in Eddie’s direction. As both men appear to be ready, the official then throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

Bursting from his corner, Eddie charges straight ahead for Stevens. As he closes in, Eddie draws back for a running punch, leaving his midsection open for Stevens to counter with a kick to the gut. Lunging over, Eddie is stopped in his tracks as Stevens slams a couple of forearm shots across the top of his back, knocking him down to his knees.
Stepping behind Eddie, Stevens pulls him up to his feet before locking in a half nelson. Lifting Eddie off his feet, Stevens then dumps him on his head with a suplex, forcing Eddie’s body to flop over onto his stomach in the center of the ring. Pushing himself up, Stevens walks over beside Eddie’s head. He then hits him in the side of the head with multiple knee drops, using the knee brace as a weapon.
Pulling Eddie up to his feet, Stevens then whips him to the far corner with all of his strength. As Eddie hits the corner, his feet shoot up into the air and as they touch down, Stevens is right there nearly taking his head off with a running clothesline. Stevens then lifts Eddie into the air and sits him on top of the corner.

VASSA: “Scott looks to have plenty of fight in him if you ask me.”
JOHNSON: “He’s off to a quick start, hitting Eddie with back to back moves of raw power.”
Stevens then climbs the turnbuckle, stepping up to the middle ropes. Holding Eddie’s head in place with his left hand, Stevens then draws back with his right. He then takes a swing downward for Eddie’s head.
JOHNSON: “Save yourself Eddie!”
Before Stevens can land the punch, Eddie hits him in the stomach with a forearm shot, knocking him off balance. Stevens keeps his hold on Eddie’s head, keeping himself from falling backwards. Drawing back once more, Stevens goes for another punch but gets interrupted as Eddie hits him with a second shot to the gut. Popping up from a seated position, Eddie slams both fists onto Stevens’ chest, sending him falling backwards off the corner and crashing down to the canvas.
VASSA: “That’s no way to treat your childhood hero!”
Hitting the mat hard, Stevens quickly pushes himself back to his feet and as he does, Eddie leaps from the corner and wipes him out with a flying knee strike to the face.
JOHNSON: “He should have seen that coming!”
VASSA: “Maybe the old man’s vision is going bad?”
JOHNSON: “I’m not buying it!”
On his feet, Eddie begins kicking and stomping on Stevens. Eddie then turns to the right and takes off for the ropes across the ring. Hitting them and coming back with even more speed, Eddie slides feet first to the mat, planting both feet into Stevens’ head with a sliding drop kick! Rolling over to his side and pushing himself up to all fours, Eddie then crawls over Stevens and grabs onto his head with both hands. Holding his head in place, Eddie then begins driving knee shots into Stevens head. One by one, Eddie knocks Stevens into a daze with each landing knee strike.
Pulling Stevens up to his feet, Eddie locks onto his wrist and then goes to whip him to the ropes. Just as Eddie goes to release him, Stevens reverses and throws Eddie towards the ropes instead. As Eddie comes back on the rebound, Stevens lifts him into the air and drives him into the canvas with a powerslam! Hooking Eddie’s leg, Stevens goes for the pin as the official slides in for the count.


Popping his shoulder up from the mat, Eddie breaks up the officials count as Stevens shakes his head in disbelief.
JOHNSON: “Close but only a two count.”
VASSA: “How embarrassing would it be if Eddie lost that quickly after talking such a big game about Stevens being over the hill.”
JOHNSON: “We see it time and time again.”
Pushing himself up, Stevens hovers over Eddie, yelling at him before slapping him across the top of the head. He then pulls Eddie to his feet and positions himself beside him. Grabbing onto him, Stevens then drops Eddie face first into the mat with a forward Russian leg sweep. Up to one knee, Stevens then runs his mouth a little more to Eddie before slapping him across the back of the head again. He then stands tall and pulls Eddie up as well. Stepping in beside him, Stevens goes for another forward Russian leg sweep but this time catches an elbow to the mouth as Eddie counters.
Stumbling to the side, Stevens releases Eddie after the shot to the mouth. Rubbing his hand over his lips, Stevens smears blood across his fingertips from his lip being busted open. He then looks to Eddie to smirks back in return before charging in and taking a swing for his head. Throwing his arm up, Stevens blocks the incoming punch and pushes Eddie back a few steps. Lunging forward, Stevens swings with all of his weight behind a punch for Eddie’s face. Ducking out of the way and side stepping Stevens, Eddie takes him face first to the mat with a drop toe hold.

VASSA: “Let me know how that canvas tasted after the show!”
JOHNSON: “I would imagine that it tastes like sweat.”
VASSA: “To say the least…”
Bounding up from the mat, Stevens instantly pushes himself up to all fours but not before Eddie who has already risen. Running to the ropes close by, Eddie comes back on the rebound and flips Stevens over to his back with a running knee lift to the face. Eddie then turns around and races over to the nearest corner, climbing up to the top. Looking over the crowd, Eddie showboats for a few moments before pointing to a fan holding a sign in the crowd.

As the sign brings a smile to Eddie’s face, a sick look then comes over him at the thought of what happened after the contest a few years back. Eddie then shakes it off and leaps backwards, flipping through the air and coming down across Stevens’ body with a moonsault. As Eddie hooks the leg, the official races over for the count.

JOHNSON: “Scott kicks out!”
VASSA: “Almost there! Too bad almost doesn’t cut it!”
After a kick out by Stevens, Eddie wastes no time and quickly rises to his feet. Pulling Stevens up to his feet, Eddie spins him around and grabs ahold of him. He then goes to lift Stevens up for a belly to back suplex but Stevens locks his leg with Eddie’s, keeping himself down. Throwing an elbow back, Stevens drives it into Eddie’s face, knocking him back a few steps and against the ropes. Turning around instantly, Stevens then takes off and charges towards Eddie. Dropping his shoulder and diving forward, Stevens tackles Eddie through the ropes and then two crash down to the floor below on the outside of the ring.
VASSA: “Hold shit!”
JOHNSON: “The fight has now come to the outside of the ring folks!”
As both men throw punches and roll around the floor, the official begins the ten count from the inside.
“One! … Two!”

Ignoring the officials count, the two men continue to roll around the floor, pounding away with lefts and rights.
“Three! … Four! … Five!”

On top, Stevens connects with a power punch right between Eddie’s eyes, knocking the back of his head against the floor. He then pushes himself up.

Shaking off the blows to the head, Eddie then pushes himself up and looks ahead to Stevens backing up towards the ring.

Charging towards Stevens, Eddie then lunges forward with both arms extended. Stepping out of the way, Stevens connects with a drop toe hold, forcing Eddie to crash face first against the top of the apron before bouncing off and flopping over to his back on the floor.

JOHNSON: “Eddie just took himself out!”
Climbing back to his feet, Stevens looks down to Eddie with a smirk on his face before turning to the ring.

Stevens then rolls underneath the bottom rope, entering the ring.

JOHNSON: “Eddie has been counted out! Stevens wins it!”
VASSA: “Oh man, talk about a surprise ending.”
JOHNSON: “This wasn’t how I expected it to happen.”
VASSA: “After all the talk about Stevens not having it anymore, the way Stevens won here tonight is going to sting even more.”
“Hellraiser” hits the speakers as Stevens stands to his feet, looking down to Eddie below who is slowly beginning to come to his senses. Backing up towards the center of the ring, Stevens stands victorious as the official grabs his arm and raises it into the air.

POWERS: “Here is your winner, by countout, SCOTT SSTTEEVVEENNSS!!!”
Pulling his arm away from the official, Stevens approaches the ropes where Eddie is still down on the outside. Leaning over the top, Stevens begins taunting Eddie as he slowly begins pushing himself up to a seated position. The two lock eyes as Stevens continues talking trash and Eddie looks on in disappointment.
JOHNSON: “That concludes the final Adrenaline before Winter Wasteland folks!”
VASSA: “We had a short show tonight but quite a bit of action as we head into the pay-per-view next week.”
JOHNSON: “Just one more week until 4CW steps outside of US boundaries and expands out footprint.”
VASSA: “It’s been long enough. Now we just have one more week. Come on, let’s get out of here.”
JOHNSON: “That sounds like a plan. Well folks, be sure to tune in next week for the groundbreaking pay-per-view, Winter Wasteland. We’re headed to England for the first time in 4CW history!”
VASSA: “You aren’t going to want to miss this one folks. We have one hell of a lineup in store for you all. All 4CW singles championships will be on the line.”
JOHNSON: “From us here at 4CW, we hope you all have a happy holiday and we’ll see you next week! I’m Steve Johnson…”
VASSA: “And I’m Vinny Vassa! Merry Christmas to all!”