The scene opens up to a shot from the ring in the center of the Royal Farms Arena as “Bulls On Parade” by Rage Against the Machine plays throughout the entire arena. Coming back to the states after crossing over into international territory, the crowd welcomes 4CW back home with open arms. In the crowd, various signs are spotted, held by the fans, that the camera zooms in and focuses on.

Down at the booth, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa sit at ringside, ready to get things underway.
JOHNSON: “Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to Adrenaline!”
VASSA: “It’s great to be back home on American soil!”
JOHNSON: “This is our first Adrenaline back following Winter Wasteland and we come to you live from the Royal Farms Arena in Baltimore, Maryland!”
VASSA: “Home of many things including the greatest television show ever, The Wire. It’s also home to shitty football teams.”
JOHNSON: “Tonight Baltimore is home to Adrenaline Fifty-Nine!”
VASSA: “We’re coming off one hell of a pay-per-view and I for one can’t wait to get into the details of everything that transpired.”
JOHNSON: “It was a huge night for 4CW indeed. We even have a new 4CW Champion, Elij–“
A spotlight falls to the top of the ramp, cutting Johnson off in mid-sentence, where a few moments later a figure appears. Though only the outline can be seen, some fans already begin to boo knowing those overly baggy pants anywhere.
JOHNSON: “What the–“
VASSA: “The F.A.G. is back!”
JOHNSON: “That he is, after his appearance at Winter Wasteland it appears as though the former Pride Champion has signed back!”
When the lights spring back on we find ourselves witnessing the return of the Future Amazing Great himself, Jett Wilder. The fans are either shocked, angry, or sighing at how predictable this was after his appearance at the last show. Standing alone this time however, a rare site as Big Sean’s ‘Blessings’ now begins to play once again as Jett walks down towards the ramp, smirking at the crowd like this is the biggest return in the history of professional wrestling.

The boo’s continue as the kid who so recently found his dad, grabs the mic off the stairs as he jumps over the top rope into the ring. Taking a moment to walk around the ring, looking out at the crowd with a big smile on his face. Seeming to think the fans are ecstatic when in reality their boo’s have already begun to wane.
WILDER: “You remembered…”
Jett stops and lowers the microphone walking around the ring, shaking his head in disbelief at his imagined warm reaction to his return.
WILDER: “It’s been awhile since I have stepped foot in this ring, the same ring that I stepped in for the first time at just seventeen years old…When I tricked Perry Wallace into hiring me. And what was the last moment you saw me? It was in the Main Event of Ante Up. In a match that was tailor made for a champion like me. I wrestled that match and despite a hard fought battle it was Jair Hopkins that left with the gold.
Now obviously it was clear from the start that Dakota, Jair, and that other guy made a concerted effort to keep me away from that belt. It was clear that they took advantage of the fatal four way rules, and they made it a handicap match to keep me from being able to win that championship belt…And I have to admit that it made me question thing…I had hit rock bottom…”

Jett shakes his head back and forth, looking distraught as he looks down at the mat. The fans booing him, clearly having a different recollection of how that match went down.
WILDER: “I mean you had that plus the entire Salieri officiating issues that cost me my Pride Championship. And it felt as though the world was against me, I am the future amazing great. And whether it was the referee’s or the roster, it seemed every had it out to stop me from obtaining that top spot that I so rightfully deserved. So I left…And sure I went out and dominated every promotion I stepped foot into the ring in. I just felt like it was not home…”
Looking around at the crowd and arena, Jett looks at the 4CW ring that he grew up in and has called home. The fans still not showing any remorse, not happy that he came back.
WILDER: “And when I went to that Winter Wasteland and watched my friends wrestle. I watched the young guns like Elijah who I watched grow up in the Junior Varsity wrestling league under me become champion. And I watched as my friends like Bryan Williams and Marquis competing for the 4CW Pride Championship. These are my friends and as I watched them all compete I realized…that if I wanted to come back home that not only would the fans welcome me with open arms. It was clear that I would have a very easy climb to the top as well.”
Jett does not seem to notice the subtle dig at his pals, something the fans show they doubt with continued anger though more so just annoyed he is still talking.
WILDER: “So I left my honor at the door and I came back to where my career started. Where I became the Pride Champion, where I left as the Main Eventer that I was. Where it took an all out defense by three men to stop me from being crowned. You see I came out here in my Jordan’s tonight because even though I was born after he was good and everything. I saw Space Jam and I knew that even though Michael took some time off to play baseball he came back…joined the Toon Squad…”
Raising his arms out to the side, his entire Michael Jordan get up now making much more sense.
WILDER: “And became a champion once again!”
Jett drops the microphone, as the boos continue his desired triumphant return not going the way he planned. Still walking around the ring he jumps onto the ropes raising both arms only exacerbating things more.
VASSA: “Wow it is great to have this kid back. Hey, you hear it was Frankie that knocked boots with his mom?”
JOHNSON: “Indeed I did, however while the fans may not be happy about this. Despite his arrogance he is a former Pride Champion, so perhaps those in the back should be worried.”
Jett continues to go to each side of the ring, posing for the crowd as the F.A.G. is officially back.


POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
“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 first, 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, Mary-Jane walks over to her corner, looking over the crowd before turning back and waiting patiently for her opponent to come down.
“Loyal” by Chris Brown hits the speakers as the attention quickly draws to the entrance stage.
POWERS: “And the opponent!”
With the intro of the song out of the way, Persephone makes her way onto the stage; a large and almost condescending smile on her face as she heads down the ramp.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Manhattan, New York, weighing in at one hundred twenty-one pounds… PERSEPHONE MMAARRQQUUIISS!!!”
Some men in the audience extend money toward her in an attempt to get her attention, while others even go as far as yelling their impressive occupations and positions to her. At some points she pretends to be interested before continuing on; snatching some man’s waving money and not giving him the time of the day.
Folding the cash and stuffing it into her wrestling top.

“These hoes ain’t loyal!”

She enters the ring and regards her Genie with a smile and a friendly greeting, before turning to her corner with an eye roll and an almost disgusted expression. Looking to Cashe, her eyes pierce him as she shows no emotion whatsoever in her facial expression. She waits in her corner for the match to start, sitting on the turnbuckle with her legs crossed; back to her patronizing smirk.
VASSA: “This match has been in the making for over a month now.”
JOHNSON: “It finally happens tonight. What started out as some back and forth on social media, quickly turned into demands for a match to be booked between these two young ladies.”
VASSA: “It isn’t the match that they demanded, but it is a match nonetheless.”
JOHNSON: “What did you expect? Before Mary-Jane had even had her first match, these two are throwing out stipulations such as a ‘loser leaves town’ match.”
VASSA: “That’s what the people wanted to see! You don’t walk in on your first day and talk shit like that to one of the most ruthless people we have on the roster.”
JOHNSON: “It happens all the time in just about every promotion. Why should this be treated any differently?”
VASSA: “Why shouldn’t it? You order shit, you eat shit! We want a goddamn ‘loser leaves town’ match!”
JOHNSON: “They can always settle it themselves after that match is over. Since when is a match stipulation that big of a deal in regards to something such as that.”
VASSA: “I don’t know Steve, maybe contracts?”
JOHNSON: “Maybe management didn’t want to take the risk of losing one of its top athletes.”
VASSA: “I bet you won’t say that to her face!”
Dropping down to her feet, Marquis looks across the ring to MJ with a smirk on her face. Proceeding to the center of the ring, Marquis slowly shakes her head back and forth before coming to a stop. Rubbing her hands together, Marquis then calls for MJ to approach her. Hesitant, MJ looks to the crowd and in return she gets orders from the fans at ringside to quit stalling. Laughing at the sight, Marquis can barely contain herself. Finally building enough courage, MJ then steps away from the corner.
With slow, hesitant steps, MJ walks towards Marquis. Even the fans at ringside begin laughing at MJ. Once standing toe to toe, the two ladies stare into each others eyes in silence as the noise level surrounding them grows louder and louder. Neither woman seems to be in a rush to make the first move, just scanning over the other as if waiting on the defensive. Shocking everyone in attendance, Marquis then extends her hand for a handshake.

JOHNSON: “I’m just as surprised as you are to see this.”
VASSA: “Someone wake me up!”
Looking down to Marquis’ hand, MJ remains cautious, not extending hers in return. The two ladies still remain silent as the tension grows even more. After a few moments pass, MJ then extends her hand.
JOHNSON: “Respec–“
VASSA: “Don’t speak too soon!”
The entire arena then erupts as Marquis spits a mouthful of saliva into MJ’s face. Disgusted, MJ takes a step back before wiping the spit from her face, smearing the thick wad of saliva across her skin.
JOHNSON: “So much for respect.”
VASSA: “Honor and respectrum!”
Lunging forward, Marquis then grabs two handfuls of MJ’s hair before jerking her head downward and smashing her face against a lifting knee. Jumping backwards, the official then quickly signals for the bell.

Lifting MJ’s head up, Marquis then drives her backwards before slamming her back against the corner. Still locked onto MJ’s head, Marquis then slams her head back, driving the back of her head into the top turnbuckle over and over. Ripping MJ away from the corner, Marquis then throws her down to the mat, rolling her to the center of the ring.
VASSA: “Well that escalated quickly.”
JOHNSON: “I should have known better than to fall for that fake handshake she was offering.”
VASSA: “Why? Queef is a very nice and respectable young lady.”
Rolling around on the canvas, MJ finally pushes herself up to both knees before reaching up and feeling her hair. Looking across the ring, her eyes light up as Marquis taunts her with two handfuls of hair ripped from her scalp. MJ the boils over with anger before popping up to her feet and charging towards Marquis. Lunging forward, MJ takes a swing for Marquis head but misses as Marquis steps out of the way and locks onto the back of her head, slamming her down face first onto the top turnbuckle.
Stumbling backwards in a daze, MJ can barely manage to stay on her feet. Marquis then turns to the ropes across the ring and takes off in their direction. Hitting them and coming back on the rebound, Marquis locks her arm around MJ’s head and continues her stride, pulling MJ along before leaping forward and driving her face into the canvas with a running bulldog.

JOHNSON: “Marquis isn’t letting up.”
VASSA: “No shit. I think Mary-Jane forgot that this was supposed to be a wrestling match.”
JOHNSON: “I’ve seen it time and time again. New signees calling out the older talent and then getting put in their place at the sound of the opening bell.”
VASSA: “Another one!”
Crawling away from Marquis, MJ heads for the ropes. Once reaching them, she begins climbing through them and onto the apron.
JOHNSON: “Mary-Jane is trying to leave the ring.”
VASSA: “No the hell she isn’t!”
Grabbing the back waistband of MJ’s pants, Marquis pulls her back through the ropes and drags her to the center of the ring. Standing over MJ’s back, Marquis then yells for her to get up. Swinging down with her right hand, Marquis drives her fist into MJ’s kidney. She then swings with her left and clocks MJ in the back of the head. Reaching down with both hands, Marquis lifts MJ’s head up from the mat before slamming it back down, driving her face into the mat.
Turning to the ropes, Marquis takes off towards them and as she comes back with even more speed, Marquis slides feet first and plants them both into the side of MJ’s head with a baseball slide kick. Pushing herself up, she then rolls MJ over to her back and steps over her body. Squatting down, Marquis sits on MJ’s face and begins rocking back and forth rapidly.

VASSA: “I didn’t know ass was on the menu tonight!”
JOHNSON: “Is this where I can use the term eating groceries?”
VASSA: “Yes, Steve. MJ is getting a whole mouthful.”
JOHNSON: “She doesn’t appear to be enjoying it.”
Standing back up, Marquis then pulls MJ up to her feet. Locking onto her wrist, she then whips MJ to the far ropes. Crashing against the corner, MJ’s feet shoot up into the air and just as the touch down, Marquis runs in and levels her with a step-up enzuigiri. Moving out of the way, Marquis opens a path for MJ to stumble forward before falling face down to the mat. Climbing over MJ’s back, Marquis then drops down on top of her and quickly applies a crossface.
JOHNSON: “There it is! Pending Payment!”
VASSA: “This just looks too easy.”
JOHNSON: “For Persephone it was because this one is already over!”
Not even being locked in the crossface for five seconds, MJ begins slapping her hand against the canvas wildly. The official then calls for the bell as this match is in the books.

Releasing MJ from the crossface, Marquis then grabs onto her head once more, lifting it up and then slamming her face back into the canvas. She then climbs to her feet and stands over MJ’s body victorious. Stepping in beside her, the official then lifts her arm into the air as “Loyal” hits the speakers..
POWERS: “Here is your winner by submission, PERSEPHONE MMAARRQQUUIISS!!!”
Ripping her arm away from the official, Marquis then kicks MJ in the ribs before hacking up another mouthful of saliva and spitting over her lifeless body. Stepping away from it all, Marquis then ducks through the ropes before dropping down to the floor and heading up the ramp without even turning to look back.
JOHNSON: “We knew this was going to be bad between these two but this was just terrible for Mary-Jane.”
VASSA: “After she comes to her senses, she’s going to need a shower to clean herself up. Marquis is fucking savage!”
JOHNSON: “If only this was the ‘loser leaves town’ match that they both requested.”
VASSA: “Do you think the outcome would have been any different?”

Backstage, the camera arrives right in front of the locker room of Generation Now. There are some audible arguments that resonate from the room, presumably from two people. The door is slightly cracked opened, so the cameraman decides to get a little bit closer and have the camera peek in just far enough so that those in the room could be seen. Inside, Scott Stevens and GenNow member Lauryn Wolfe, and by the looks on their faces, it was clear to see that things between them were heated.
STEVENS: “Why are you getting mad?!?!?!?”
WOLFE: “Because you’re a creep and a perv!”
Lauryn shouts at the Texan who simply puts his hand into his right palm and shakes his head.
STEVENS: “Look Lauryn, I told you I’m none of those things.”
WOLFE: “Yeah right!”
STEVENS: “If I was why would I have knocked on the locker room door if I was those things?”
WOLFE: “Because this is the Generation Now locker room and I thought maybe you were one of my friends.”
STEVENS: “You assumed and you know what happens when you assume right?”
Stevens says as Lauryn rolls her eyes at him.
WOLFE: “Then why are you here?!?”
Lauryn yells at the Texas invader.
STEVENS: “I’m glad you asked why I’m here Lauryn because I’m worried.”
WOLFE: “Worried? About what?”
STEVENS: “I’m worried about the safety of you actually.”
Lauryn couldn’t help but to chuckle, finding Stevens’ concerns to be ridiculous.
WOLFE: “Really? Well, that’s cute, but how about you take those worries and shove them up your a–“
STEVENS: “Hold on just a second.”
Stevens says as he holds up his hand to interrupt Lauryn.
STEVENS: “I think our signals aren’t crossing and we are having a bit of a misunderstanding.”
WOLFE: “What the hell do you mean by that?”
STEVENS: “You see, I don’t care what the Royal Family does to you and your team tonight because when I say I’m worried about your safety I meant your safety from me.”
WOLFE: “Excuse me–“
STEVENS: “Shhhhhhhhh!”
Stevens says as he puts his finger over Lauryn’s mouth.
STEVENS: “Don’t talk just listen, ok?”
Lauryn shakes her head in compliance.
STEVENS: “Good girl. You see I am a gentleman, and I…”
Lauryn cracks up laughing.
WOLFE: “You, a gentleman?! Get the fuck out of here.”
Lauryn continues to laugh and Stevens grows impatient and angry as he uses his imposing size to back the smaller Lauryn into a corner.
STEVENS: “Are you done?”
Stevens says sternly with a look that he’s ready to rip Lauryn’s head clean off.
WOLFE: “… Yes… Yes…”
STEVENS: “Good, because like I said I am a gentleman, and I would hate to see you end up like your boyfriend……what’s his name?”
Stevens thinks for a minute but shrugs.
STEVENS: “It doesn’t matter because he’s irrelevant just like you could be if you try any funny business such as thinking of getting revenge for him.”
Stevens says as he hits the wall causing Lauryn to turn her head.
STEVENS: “Forget about him or end up like him, the choice is yours and I can promise you one thing if you thought what’s his name……doesn’t matter what his name is because if you thought the pain I inflicted was bad just think what I could do to you.”
Stevens informs Lauryn before giving her a wink and heads off screen.


POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
“March Into the Sea” by Modest Mouse 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 first, 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 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: “Just two weeks ago at Winter Wasteland, Scott Stevens disassembled Caleb Houston right before our very eyes.”
JOHNSON: “It was a disgusting display if you ask me. Caleb had already lost his match. What Scott did after was unnecessary!”
The cheers intensify as the chorus hits the speakers, drawing out the man from Texas.
POWERS: “Introducing at this time, coming to us from the Great State of Texas, by way of Houston…”
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 at six feet, six inches tall and weighing in at two hundred forty-six pounds!”
As he finally gets to the ring, he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and stares down at his opponent.
An icy glare and the throat slash gesture his only actions as he drops to the mat.
VASSA: “Tonight Scott gets in the ring with a fresh body, not someone who had already been taken to their limits.”
JOHNSON: “What kind of man attacks someone when they’re down like that? Caleb is on the shelf because of Scott!”
VASSA: “It wasn’t fun to watch, but something has lit a fire under Scott Stevens.”
JOHNSON: “We’ll see what he does tonight against Viduus Morta, someone who hasn’t already had a match.”
VASSA: “Viduus is coming off a tough loss from Adrenaline fifty-eight after falling to Adrian Tanner Jr.”
JOHNSON: “Adrian is a tough opponent, we all know that. Viduus can really bounce back here tonight with a win over Stevens.”
VASSA: “It’s going to be interesting to see how this match plays out. Both men could get things going in the right direction with a win here tonight.”
JOHNSON: “Scott has the momentum, that’s for sure. He defeated Eddie Valentine in his last match. He took out Caleb following that at Winter Wasteland. Even before at Fright Night, Stevens knocked Jason P. Davidson off the top of the Warzone and he hasn’t been right ever since.”
VASSA: “Stevens has had some tough losses along the way as well, but he’s done damage outside of his own matches.”
JOHNSON: “Viduus can bring it all to an end tonight with a win, smothering any momentum Stevens’ has gained over the recent weeks.”
Standing in the center of the ring, the official looks to Viduus and quickly gets the nod. He then turns to Steven who stares back in return. After a few short moments of nothing, Stevens turns his attention to Viduus, motioning his hand across his throat with another slice gesture. With what appears to be the go ahead from Stevens, the official then quickly calls for the bell.

As the bell echoes throughout the arena, both men leave their corners and make their way towards the center of the ring. Towering over Viduus, Stevens obviously has the size advantage. Lunging forward, Stevens reaches for Viduus with both hands, missing as Viduus side steps him. Whipping around, Stevens then throws an elbow in Viduus’ direction, missing yet again as Viduus ducks underneath it as it passes over his head. Diving forward, Viduus drives his head into Stevens’ mid-section, knocking him back a few steps. Popping back up, Viduus then leaps towards Stevens, hitting the big man with a clothesline across the chest.
Falling a step back, Stevens remains on his feet as Viduus bounces off. Before viduus can react, Stevens then lunges forward and levels him with a clothesline of his own. Pulling Viduus up from the canvas, Stevens quickly spins him around and wraps him up with a half nelson. Cranking down on the pressure, Stevens then lifts Viduus off his feet and begins shaking him violently in the air before dropping back and slamming him with a suplex.
Folding over, Viduus flops over to his stomach, lying there in a world of pain as Stevens slowly climbs back to his feet. Moving around to Viduus’ lower half, Stevens grabs onto both of his legs and lifts them into the air before dragging Viddus across the mat as he rotates his body. Gaining momentum, Stevens lifts Viduus’ entire body off the mat and as he makes a full second rotation, he launches Viduus into the air. Flying towards the corner, Viduus’ back crashes against it before he drops down on top of his head.

JOHNSON: “There’s no denying it, Scott Stevens is a freak of nature.”
VASSA: “You can tell he’s spent a lot of his time in the weight room over the years. He just threw Viduus across the ring like a lawn dart.”
JOHNSON: “Let’s just hope he doesn’t lose his temper and bring a chair into the equation.”
Making his way over to the corner, Stevens then pulls Viduus up from the mat and stands him up. Slamming both hands across Viduus’ chest, Stevens pushes him against the corner with force. He then drops down and grabs onto the middle ropes before pulling himself forward and driving his shoulder into Viduus’ stomach. Lifting Viduus into the air, Stevens then sits him down on top of the corner.
Climbing up to the middle ropes, Stevens grabs onto his head with one hand and begins pounding away at it with the other. After nearly a dozen fists to the dome, Stevens draws back for one final blow. Out of desperation, Viduus bursts upward, wrapping both arms around Stevens’, leaping away from the corner. The two then fly through the air, Viduus holding on for dear life, until they crash to the mat, Stevens on bottom breaking the fall and taking the majority of the impact.
Mounting himself on top of Stevens, Viduus then unloads with lefts and rights, raining down on his head with pulverizing punches. Knocking Stevens into a daze, Viduus then rolls him over to his stomach before spinning around on top of him and grabbing ahold of his legs. Wrapping an arm around each, Viduus then pulls back while resting his weight on Stevens’ back, locking in a Boston crab.

VASSA: “I didn’t see that coming!”
JOHNSON: “Scott is in a terrible spot! Viduus has that Boston crab locked in and the ropes are well out of reach.”
VASSA: “Stevens’ body has taken a beaten over the years. I’ll be surprised if Viduus doesn’t snap him in half with this.”
The official races over to the front of Stevens’, checking in with him for a submission as Viduus folds him in half. Zooming in, the camera locks on Stevens’ face as he yells in agony. Using his strength, Stevens then begins dragging himself and Viduus across the ring. Inch by inch, he fights through the pain as the ropes get closer and closer as the seconds pass by.
With the ropes only a foot out of reach, Stevens pulls himself just a bit closer before extending his arm as far as he can reach, now coming only inches short of grabbing onto the bottom rope. Realizing their position, Viduus then eases up for a moment, giving himself the opportunity to rises up a bit before dragging Stevens away from the ropes just as his finger tip grazes the bottom.

JOHNSON: “He was right there! Just one more inch and the ropes would have been within reach.”
VASSA: “Freedom was only a fingertip away but Viduus ripped it away from him in the blink of an eye.”
With the ropes now a few feet out of reach, Viduus pulls back on Stevens’ legs once more, trying to snap him in half again. Moaning and grunting, Stevens slowly begins growing tired, but refuses to submit as the official keeps a close eye on him. Reaching for the ropes again, Stevens screams as he realizes they are well out of reach. He then slams both hands down to the mat and pushes his upper body up, lifting Viduus as well who is sitting on his back.
Hopping up inches above the mat, Viduus’ weight then drops down onto Stevens’ back, knocking his chest down to the canvas. Pulling back on his legs and leaning all of his weight backwards, Viduus pulls and pulls. Looking up to the ropes again, Stevens’ extends his arm and stretches as far as he can. Straining, his face turns a bright shade of red as the frustration begins to show in his eyes. With the ropes still out of reach, Stevens’ has nowhere to go.
He then pushes himself up again, lifting Viduus up as he cranks down on the pressure. Jumping up again, Viduus then drops his weight across Stevens’ back, slamming his chest back down to the mat. A loud howling moan then fills the air as Stevens slowly begins pushing himself up for a third time. Extending for the ropes, he finally realizes they’re too far out of reach. He then kicks both of his legs, using all of his lower strength to straighten them out and as he does, he launches Viduus off of him and into the air.

VASSA: “Holy shit, he broke free!”
JOHNSON: “How is that possible! Viduus had him right where he needed him.”
VASSA: “I don’t know but someone may need to check to see if he’s juicing.”
JOHNSON: “Oh come on Vinny, you can’t be serious!”
VASSA: “What else could it be? Viduus had him in that Boston crab for nearly five minutes!”
Rolling across the mat, Viduus rises to his feet just in front of the ropes across the ring. Looking over his shoulder, he locks his sights on Stevens before slowly turning around to fully face him. Crawling to the ropes, Stevens grabs onto them, using them to pull himself up, struggling as he does so. Once standing, he leans against the ropes, holding himself up before reaching back and rubbing his lower back.
Seeing an opportunity, Viduus then charges towards him full speed and as Stevens turns to face him, Viduus lunges forward with his shoulder lowered. Barely able to move out of the way in time, Stevens locks his leg with Viduus’ before falling down to the mat, dropping Viduus’ throat across the ropes with a drop toe hold.

VASSA: “That was a close one for Stevens!”
JOHNSON: “Even worse for Viduus!”
Bouncing off the ropes, Viduus lifts off into the air before crashing down to his back in the center of the ring. Holding his throat with both hands, he gasps for air. Pulling himself back up with the ropes, Stevens looks to Viduus before limping over to him. As he closes in, Viduus catches him off guard as he spins on the mat, taking Stevens down with a leg sweep.
The entire ring rattles as the big man crashes against the canvas. The impact alone sends pain running up and down his spine. With Stevens down, Viduus pushes himself up from the mat and goes in for the kill. Pulling Scott up to his feet, Viduus turns him to face the opposite direction before pulling his head back and locking his arm around it.

VASSA: “This doesn’t look too good for Scott.”
JOHNSON: “Is this is what I think it is then Scott is in big trouble. Viduus is going for the Awakening!”
Viduus then lifts Stevens upside down into the air with a reverse vertical suplex but as he does, Stevens maneuvers himself out of the hold and drops down to his feet behind Viduus. Spinning Viduus around, Stevens then grabs onto his head and drops him down face first to the canvas with a three-quarter facelock bulldog.
JOHNSON: “Toxic Sting!”
VASSA: “Holy shit, Stevens’ reversed it!”
After laying Viduus out, Stevens slowly makes the cover before hooking the leg. Rushing over and sliding in beside them, the official then slaps his hand across the mat for the count.

VASSA: “Stevens wins it!”
JOHNSON: “Right when you think Viduus was about to end it, Scott shocks us all and lays him out with the Toxic Sting.”
VASSA: “Just like a lethal scorpion, he waited for the opportune moment to strike and when he did, he put his prey away!”
“Hellraiser” hits the speakers as the official helps Stevens slowly climb to his feet. Grabbing onto his arm, he then raises it for the victory as the final bell echoes throughout the entire arena.

POWERS: “Here is your winner, by pinfall, SCOTT SSTTEEVVEENNSS!!!”

Backstage seemed to have had a tornado come through near the catering. A custodian coming into the area drops his jaw. There was food everywhere as someone had trashed the whole spread. Lunch meat from Deli sandwiches stuck to the wall, bottles of water that look to have had a knife ripped through the body. Looking around nobody was wearing a guilty expression so the Custodian was left to clean up the mess.
CUSTODIAN: “Nobody has any manners around here..”
People that were there left as soon as he started cleaning. Luckily they had a Janitor’s closet nearby. Needing some cleaning sprays the man in a nice spiffy outfit for his job goes to open the closet but it bursts open. Stumbling with his sagging sweat pants are falling down around his ankles comes Jason Cashe. He was alone but had a jug of milk in one hand and a box of Fruit Loops held to his body with the other arm.
CUSTODIAN: “Whaaat the fuuuck!?!”
Having to leap back to prevent any contact with Cashe as he waddles out into the open. The Custodian stares at Cashe with an expression of disgust. One that so many have had looking in his direction. He doesn’t seem high so he was at least sticking to that but something was off about him. He almost looked drunk.
CASHE: “Don’t mind me. I was just… trying to eat some cereal.”
Looking around a look of guilt filled his face. His eyes widen as he snaps a look back at the Janitor.
CASHE: “Who did this!?! No shame having pig fuckers! I bet it was Eli… Or you know… Genie! Yeah this has her name all over it.”
CUSTODIAN: “I don’t know who either of those people are. I don’t know who you are for that matter! I work for this arena and I don’t watch this… crap you apparently are apart of! Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got mustard to clean off the ceiling.
Spinning around Cashe wanted to see mustard on the ceiling. Like that would be something out of this world to him right now. He wasn’t drunk but he was acting strange. Finding the yellow stain above him he lets out a snicker.
CASHE: “That’s just foul.. But I’m gonna put these back in the frig right now. I wouldn’t… ummm EAT the fruit loops or drink that milk. Just… Just trust me alright?”
As Cashe almost tip toes away after returning the carton of milk and box of Fruit Loops back into the refrigerator. The Janitor drops at his shoulders, a long look of disappointment meets intrigue filling his face as he turns to Cashe.
CUSTODIAN: “What did you do? What will I have to clean up later tonight? Just tell me so I can prepare for it.”
Pausing like he was a video game character. Cashe gives the idea a longer thought. Could telling the janitor hurt? He could clean it up, remove the potential prank from even having a chance to work. Shrugging Cashe decides he could trust the Janitor.
CASHE: “I respect guys like you. People who don’t mind getting their hands ALL in the shitty water to make a living!”
Reaching down into the Mop bucket filled with water used to clean SOMETHING up sometime during the work shift. Cashe wasn’t sure and didn’t rightly care as he scooped up some of the filthy water and rubbed it over his hands. Like if it was a river and he was just rinsing off. Then as he flicks his hands he brings them to his face and masks himself with a wet layer left over on his hands. It surely had chemicals in it by the smell but he continued.
CASHE: “If you want coffee and add milk? Find another source because I pissed in that carton. Shook it up real nice so it mixed in. The cereal though? Pubes, crack hairs which HURT when you pull one out! By golly! But I clipped my toenails and put them in there as a special ingredient! Shook it up too and it’s for one of many people who could, maybe, might, might NOT take the risk to eat some fucking cereal.”
Not sure if he should be weirded out by Cashe’s comments but instead he felt bad for the guy. Placing an arm to Cashe’s back the Custodian’s eyes fall soft as he stares over at a moistly faced Jason Cashe.
CUSTODIAN: “Girl problems?”
Pulling away from the Custodian, Cashe turned his manic excitement into a offended rage. His upper lip arched like an Elvis impersonator as a light growl grows.
CASHE: “Hmph! Noooo! The fuck you know about girl problems anyway JANITOR! Clean that up you fuck…”
Stomping off Cashe was triggered as the kids called it. He was LIT beyond containment. The Custodian still standing there now looked a little bothered himself.
CUSTODIAN: “It’s Custodian Dick! Nasty ass motherfucker…”
Getting back to work the scene pulls away on a Custodian doing his job. Yet still leaving the Milk and Cereal alone where Cashe had placed it.

“Still Swingin'” by Papa Roach begins to play as Johnny Evil steps out onto the stage, dressed in casual attire, with still a bit of a limp from his Winter Wasteland match. He looks around at the roaring crowd from left to right and then looks down at the stage.
“I’m The One, Stepping Up…
Spit the fire, i’ll back it up.
Count me in, I’ll turn it out
I’m killin’ it, you’re burning out.
Never change, never break
I’m real, you’re the fake
Set it up, go underground
You feeling it, this future sound?”

After a moment Johnny turns from left to right bowing to the crowd a bit in a very unenthusiastic motion before making a slow walk down the ramp, looking from side to side and slapping a couple of the audience members hands with high fives as he does.
“We’re just living for today
Keep a light on in the haze.
Yeah, forever we will stay
We are the ones still swingin’!
We are a beacon in the dark
A lighthouse risen from the heart.
We’ve been here from the start
We are the ones still swingin’!“

After grabbing a microphone from one of the ringside crew, Johnny rolls into the ring and pulls himself to his feet, signaling for his music to be cut. As the music fades, he paces around, shaking his head slowly and thinking for a moment before he speaks.
EVIL: “You know, I tried… I just don’t have it in me anymore…”
Johnny pauses and paces around the ring, looking down at the canvas. You can see the look of sorrow in his features and body language before he continues to talk.
EVIL: “I mean, I thought I still had it in me. I thought I could return to the ring after a two year hiatus and still do what I did best. Yet, here we are… I failed. I really thought that I could get it done at Winter Wasteland much like I thought I could get it a done a number of times prior to that. I really thought I could bring a big win home for not only myself and my family… but for you, the fans. I’m disappointed to say, that didn’t happen.”
The camera cuts around the arena, seeing the emotion on various audience members faces before panning back to Johnny Evil who is shaking his head slowly in disappointment.
EVIL: “I fell flat on my fuckin’ face and I’m sure we’re gonna’ hear Sativa talk about how she’s the greatest. Truthfully, she’s not, but at Winter Wasteland, she was better than me.”
The booing begins to filter around the arena at the mention of Sativa’s name. Johnny gives off a frown and shrugs while shaking his head in a motion as if to say no…
EVIL: “No, really… I put her through everything I could, only for it all to end with me bowing my fucking head in shame and letting the audience down. I don’t give a fuck, she can say what she wants about how she broke me. We know she didn’t break me. In order for her to break me, I wouldn’t be left standing, Yet, here it is… I’m standing.
As it is, though. You won. So, now the world wants to know and 4CW wants to know, what’s next for Johnny Evil?”

Johnny paces around as the words are almost heartbreaking to leave his mouth.
EVIL: “I have given my life and my time for the sport of professional wrestling. I have put my body on the line night in and night out all to gain the respect of the viewers that put their asses in those seats and turn on the television to tune in. Sadly. I just don’t have it in me anymore. I can’t seem to capitalize and for that I let each and every one of the Evil Minion’s in attendance down. Not only did I let them down, but I let myself down.”
After the camera pans around the dead silent arena, it pans back to Evil who is wiping his face in confusion and frustration.
EVIL: “Only a fool would continue to tarnish a legacy that they spent years building. Where I may be a little bit on the dumb side for putting my body through hell at everyone’s expense, I am not a fool. Trust me, I have won championships and I have put on the greatest of matches. I’ve sold out shows and I’ve made waves in multiple companies. When that stops happening and you start to question yourself, a wise man would hang those boots up and walk out while with some dignity and pride.”
The audience begins a Thank you, Johnny chant for the match he had with Sativa in sight of his retirement speech. This causing Johnny to stop and look around the arena for a moment before dropping his head to canvas shaking it in disbelief.
EVIL: “You know, I wish I could say I’ll bounce back, but It becomes repetitive for me to say ‘next time will be different’. I’ve said that shit so much lately, it’s starting to sound like a broken fucking record. Don’t get me wrong, it was fun, and I had some memorable moments already. None more memorable than the start of my career in other organizations. However, none of them are worth continuing to perform only to suffer another let down in the end.
That’s why when I say goodbye tonight, I might stand here bitter that I couldn’t get the job done at Winter Wasteland, but I still stand here proud of the career I have had, thus far. Even if my run in the world of Four Corner’s never fully hit the cornerstones that it had in other companies it was still a great experience to be here.
I am going to miss this canvas… these ropes… The millions of people chanting Holy Shit…”

Cutting him off in mid-sentence, a familiar voice fills the arena.
“Time the fuck out.”
”RAW” by Bad Meets Evil hits the speakers as the crowd reacts with a mixture of boos and cheers, mostly boos. Walking out from the back with a mic in hand, Wallace steps out onto the stage.
WALLACE: “Cut this shit. Stop the music.”
With his eyes locked on the ring, Wallace proceeds down the ramp in stride. Once he reaches ringside, he climbs up the ramp and enters the ropes without a single hesitation. Shaking his head back and forth, he stares across at Evil as he slowly walks towards him.
WALLACE: “What is this? Come on, man! You can’t let one match decide your career. You still have plenty left in the tank. But more importantly, I thought we had an agreement? After all, as heartwarming as it is to see a father reunited with his kid, an agreement is an agreement.”
Holding his arms out to his sides, Perry tilts his head slightly to the left. The two share a moment of silence as their eyes remain locked on one another. Pulling the microphone back to his lips, Wallace breaks the silence.
WALLACE: “Now, I’ve been searching this entire arena all night long. Jack Vaughn. Where is he? Following your match at Winter Wasteland, when you received the greatest gift any father could ever want, I thought I asked for one thing and one thing only. I need my name cleared from that bullshit story you and him cooked up together.”
EVIL: “There was never an agreement. You assumed there was an agreement, and you know what they say when you assume things… “
Wallace looks around dumbfounded.
WALLACE: “Despite how it all ended, what did I do? I did the right thing. Now you’re just going to ride off into the sunset without fulfilling your end of the deal?
Come on now, you’re better than this! You can’t possibly stand in this ring and talk about leaving with what little dignity you have left but skip out on a gentlemen’s agreement. You are the only person who can clear my name from this bullshit Jack has brought to my doorstep. And you want to just skip town and bail on me?! Johnny, you’re better than this.”

EVIL: “Wallace, what fucking agreement, have you been all up in Freedumb’s hidden stash he left in 4CW before going elsewhere. What you did, as great as it feels and as great as it sounds. It’s not all that great. At Winter Wasteland, Johnny Evil didn’t save Rhiannon Faith from some dumb bitch who’s best puns are cuckold jokes. Perry Wallace, saved Rhiannon Faith, so don’t give me some buttercup silver lining bullshit about having ‘more gas left in the tank’, because the fact remains I lost possibly the most important match I could ever have. Fuck a title, I lost a match with my daughter on the line!”
WALLACE: “Do what you have to do I suppose. Just don’t put me in the situation where I have to take back my end of the bargain. I don’t want to do that. But I can’t get shorted either. I did right by you, and now I need you to do right by me. BRING ME JACK VAUGHN!”
Just then the arena filters with boos as Jason Cashe steps out onto the entrance ramp holding a microphone in his hand interrupting Evil, causing Evil and Perry Wallace to look up the ramp and shake their heads, confused as all hell.
JOHNSON: “What business could Jason Cashe possibly have coming out here? First Wallace and then Cashe? I mean this is a retirement speech!”
VASSA: “Yea, Evil’s already taken more losses than the Detroit Lions two-thousand eight season. At least let the man retire without taking one!!”
JOHNSON: “Well, maybe Cashe is. You know, him and Evil have history and are pretty good friends outside of the wrestling ring.”
VASSA: “Oh, so he must be coming out here to show his support, huh?”
Cashe walks down the ramp, shaking his head back, muttering some indistinguishable conversation before entering the ring. Jason Cashe rolls into the ring and climbs to his feet, looking around the arena and then looking Evil in his eyes as the reaction begins to die down. After Wallace gives a stern look to Cashe he passes Johnny Evil he mutters something to him before exiting the ring and walking up the entrance ramp leaving Evil and Cashe alone in the ring.
CASHE: “I can’t believe I’m hearing this shit correctly!
That’s BOOSHIT, Evil! You don’t just get to opt out and walk away like that. I’m not going to lie, I’ve thought about it most recently. Then I thought even more, and this is what we do. We wrestle to live, and live to wrestle. Right now, you’re acting like a little bitch about things!”

Evil steps toward Cashe and looks him right in his eyes.
EVIL: “Cashe, that’s easy for you to say. You lost to Williams a couple times. Before that nobody thought you would lose that triple threat at Fright Night. Even when you lost, at Winter Wasteland, people still had their money on you. I have failed, repeatedly since I came back, time and time again…”
CASHE: “Like I said… you’re acting like a little bitch!”
EVIL: “No brodie, I’m just seeing the bigger picture and seeing shit for what it really is. You know what I’m capable of in the ring… or at least what I was capable of. This is not me, and I’ll be damned if I just sit fucking content with low card bookings as that guy that falls short on the most important occasions before I go out on my own damn terms.”
CASHE: “Well, maybe I just have to beat some damn sense into you!”
Evil drops his head for a moment and looks at the canvas shaking his head. Looking back up at Cashe, Evil turns his face to the side and begins pointing and slapping at his cheek.
EVIL: “You know what, go ahead and do it mother fucker! Just because I’m retiring doesn’t mean I still won’t lay you the fuck out if you try and put your hands on me!!”
CASHE: “Nah, if we’re going to do this, it’s going to be on the next show and it’s going to be with an official. If you want to retire, you’re going to have to fight me to do it!”
EVIL: “See, that’s the point. You don’t control my fucking destiny… Sativa doesn’t control my destiny. Wallace and Adessi don’t control my destiny. The only one who controls Johnny Evil’s destiny is Johnny fucking Evil!
With that said, go fight Williams for a third time. I’m sure he’d be happy to have a sanctioned match with you. It’s been fun, but I’m out.”

Just as Evil goes to walk past Jason Cashe, Jason grabs Evil’s wrist pulling him back from making an exit from the ring and standing in his way.
CASHE: “Like I said. You want to take your ball and go home, you got to fight me first.”
Evil turns around in anger and begins pacing around the ring as the chants begin to fill the arena…

Evil looks around the arena and buries his face in his hand giving thought for a second. Looking back up, Evil shakes his head before speaking and then addresses the crowd.
EVIL: “Sorry, when it’s over… it’s over!
I truly am sorry…”

Evil drops the microphone and turns back toward Cashe. As quickly as Evil turns around an angered and much heated Cashe drops his microphone and fires a blow into Johnny’s forehead. This causes Johnny to fire a punch back and before you know it, a brawl is underway causing the arena to roar.
The exchange of blows continue back and forth until Evil lunges Cashe into the corner with a shoulder block and begins firing a couple elbows against the top of his head. Cashe scouts one and grabs Evil spinning him into the corner and beginning a barrage of blows until the momentum causes both of them to roll over the top rope out to ringside.
Security and officials quickly rush out and begin to break the brawl between Evil and Cashe apart. This causes a few of them to get knocked back with wild punches and elbows.
Evil rushes forward and jumps against the wall of security holding Cashe at veigh causing everyone to collapse to the floor while the two continue to tussle across the ringside floor.
Eventually security and the officials regroup and begin to pull Cashe and Evil apart. The two continue the trash talk as Cashe grows a smirk across his face, wiping a tiny amount of blood from his lip. Evil begins pointing in Jason Cashe’s direction while both are still being restrained.

EVIL: “You got it, but after that I’m done… You got it!”
JOHNSON: “Well, I guess we’ll get to see Johnny Evil have one more match?”
VASSA: “You mean add another loss to his record? Why must he continuously put himself in a position to bite the bullet?”
JOHNSON: “Either way, if you know him outside of 4CW he wasn’t a slouch, sometimes you just don’t have it in you anymore. That’s exactly what he’s been trying to say!”
VASSA: “I don’t buy that bullshit one bit!”
JOHNSON: “You have to remember he was gone for two years, nowhere to be found and when he came back he signed with multiple promotions right away. Maybe he just burnt himself out?”
VASSA: “Nah, whatever. It is what it is. Either way, I guess this is good for the people who want to see Evil lose another match!”

TANNER: “…Was that necessary?”
KENNEDY: “Yeah I think we’re feelin’ kinda lowkey this week, Mister Narration guy.”
My bad. Adrian Tanner Junior and Cecil Kennedy, hanging out in the locker room area.
TANNER: “Better.”
KENNEDY: “Much. SO, what’s our plan for dealin’ with the thing?”
TANNER: “Which thing, exactly? The thing I’m about to do, the thing I called the clown out on the other day-“
KENNEDY: “The Brandon thing.”
Adrian winces, not because he forgot, just because it hurts to think about his brother/best friend being missing.
TANNER: “I honestly don’t know, Ceece. What else can we do…?”
KENNEDY: “We can ask around. Someone had to have seen something.”
TANNER: “We did ask around! And nobody had seen him.”
YOUNG: “Who hasn’t seen me- Ooh piece of candy!”
Almost on cue, The Young Gun walks into the room from one of the adjacent areas.
KENNEDY: “What the fuck?”
YOUNG: “What the fuck what?”
TANNER: “Where the fuck have you been?”
KENNEDY: “What he said.”
YOUNG: “I dunno what you fucks are talking about, I’ve been with you the entire time!”
TANNER: “Bullshit you have! We haven’t seen you in over a week. You’ve got Kaycee worried sick!”
Cecil instinctively steps in front of Adrian so he’s standing in between his two best friends.
KENNEDY: “Seriously Brandon, I’d answer him, I dont think I can anxiously stand in between you two for long.”
The Young Gun just shrugs, then shakes his head.
YOUNG: “Alright alright! Geez man, chill. I took a lil break, had to do some soul searching is all.”
KENNEDY: “Soul searching is code for ‘he went and bought something ridiculous to torment you with in promos’ isn’t it?”
TANNER: “Most likely. Why the fuck didn’t you tell anyone!?”
YOUNG: “I DID! I told Kayc I’d be gone a few extra days, she knew all about it. I didn’t tell you guys cause I wanted it to be a surpri- I mean cause ya’ll ain’t my handler I don’t gotta tell you everything!”
Adrian and Cecil share a knowing look, both rolling their eyes.
TANNER: “Riiiiight.”
KENNEDY: “You might wanna try that excuse again, buddy, I doubt Kayc’s gonna buy it.”
TANNER: “Cecil, be a pal and play back our last conversation with my sister for this guy will ya? I gotta take a walk.”
KENNEDY: “Hey why’re you pushing him off on me?”
Adrian sighs, giving a pleading, annoyed look at Cecil.
TANNER: “Ceece. Please.”
KENNEDY: “Yeah yeah, don’t worry, I got ya.”
TANNER: “Thanks man. You” (points at Brandon) “We’ll finish this later. For now like Cecil said, you might wanna call your wife before she murders the lot of us,.”
With that, The Arizona Assassin grabs his entrance hoodie and walks out the door, leaving the other two members of NEXTWAVE alone in the locker room. Cecil stares awkwardly between the door and his other best friend, trying to decide what to do next.
YOUNG: “So Ceece, have you heard the word of our Lord and Savior Viduus Morta today?”
KENNEDY: “…Wut.”
Brandon stares at Cecil with a large grin, which slowly morphs from a good natured ribbing into a creepy smile, growing creepier and creepier the longer he stares at his friend. After a long, awkward silence, Cecil can’t take it anymore and he’s about to say something when Brandon lets the facade slip, doubling over in laughter.
YOUNG: “Bahahahaha! Oh man, your face, you should’ve seen it! I haven’t seen it like that since ICW!”
KENNEDY: “…Already starting to wish we hadn’t found you, even if did mean Kaycee literally murdering us.”
Cecil rubs his temples in frustration while Brandon continues to laugh, and we cut back elsewhere.


POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
“Light’s Out” by Hollywood Undead hits the speakers. Seth Daniels steps out from behind the curtain and looks around at the crowd before focusing on the ring. There’s no flash nor flare, no fancy lights or videos. Clearly, Seth doesn’t need a ton of frills in his parade. He begins his determined walk to the ring.
POWERS: “Now approaching the ring, from Phoenix Arizona and weighing in this morning at two hundred thirty-two pounds. He is ‘Your Drug Of Choice’… SETH DDAANNIIEELLSS!!!”
Daniels smirks at the mixed reaction he’s receiving from the crowd before he climbs the ring steps and steps between the ropes. He turns around abruptly and climbs the turnbuckle looking out to the crowd. He lifts one fist and incites the crowd into a frenzy. He hops down and cracks his knuckles in anticipation.
POWERS: “And the opponent!”
“Me Too” by Meghan Trainor begins to blare over the sound system, and the lights dim down to a pale red hue around the arena. The booing begins almost immediately, and continues as Michael Lee Best steps through the entrance way wearing a black t-shirt over top of his ring gear– the logo on the shirt is simply white text that reads “Michael Lee Best Is My Favorite Wrestler.” He stops at the top of the stage, pointing at the shirt and grinning into the camera.
POWERS: “Making his way to the ring, from Chicago, Illinois… standing at six foot two and weighing in at two hundred forty nine pounds…”
Michael slaps himself on the chest three times, pointing out into the crowd and nodding his head as he makes his way smoothly down the ramp, reacting almost as if he’s being cheered instead of universally reviled. He reaches the ring, rolling under the ropes and onto the canvas. As he stands, he dusts off his t-shirt and makes a big deal about quickly spit shining his wrestling boots.
POWERS: “…the bastard child of God Himself… MICHAEL… LEE… BBEESSTT!!!”
Michael steps into his corner, pulling the t-shirt over his head and tossing it ringside, careful not to let any of the greedy fans get their hands on free merchandise. He stretches in his corner, limbering up his knees and shoulders as he waits for the match to begin.
JOHNSON: “Up next we have what should be a good one with Seth Daniels returning to the ring for the first time since last year, taking on Mike Best who made his first 4CW in-ring appearance at Winter Wasteland.”
VASSA: “Both men come into this match with a 4CW record of one win and zero losses. I’m a little torn with my decision as to who I think will walk away with the victory tonight.”
JOHNSON: “It’s been a good while since Seth had his first match in 4CW, while Mike had his two weeks ago. Both men have some momentum going into this one.”
VASSA: “It’s definitely going to be an interesting one to call, that’s for sure.”
JOHNSON: “Some would say that Mike’s win at Winter Wasteland was a little controversial. Will we have any controversy tonight?”
VASSA: “Max Kael brought that on himself when he decided to try and pull a fast one over Mike. I don’t think Seth will make that same mistake here tonight.”
JOHNSON: “We’ll just have to see for ourselves as the official is now ready to get things underway.”
Standing in the center of the ring, the official checks with both corners as he gets the nod from both Mike and Seth. With both men ready to go, he quickly throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

VASSA: “I just hope Genie is able to contain herself with Keith Daniels’ little brother in the ring tonight.”
As the bell silences over the arena, both men step away from their corners and slowly approach each other. Both cockiness and confidence consume each individual with each step they take before closing in on one another. Standing face to face, the two look into one another’s eyes. Moments pass as the stare continues, neither man blinking. Growing overly excited, Mike hops backwards and as he touches down, he brushes his hand through his hair before getting into stance. Cracking his neck from left to right, Seth preps himself as the two then begin circling one another in the center of the ring.
After circling the ring once, the two lock up as the crowd stands to their feet in excitement. Pushing forward, Mike begins driving Seth backwards with slow steps until the two come to a stop as Seth plants his back foot. Maneuvering himself to the side, Seth pulls Mike’s head down and wraps his arm around it, flipping him off his feet and over to his back with a headlock takedown. With his free hand, Seth draws back and swings down onto Mike’s head.
Pulling his head away from Seth’s arm at the last possible second, Mike avoids a fist to the skull. The two then race to their feet, both standing up at the same time. Not wasting a single second, Seth then shoots in for a single leg takedown. Sprawling back, Mike counters the attempt and lands on top of Seth. Driving his knees forward while holding onto Seth, Mike hits him in the shoulders with rapid knee strikes. Mike then spins his body around on top of Seth before gaining a position to drive knees into Seth’s ribs.

JOHNSON: “Nothing like some good old fashioned mat wrestling!”
VASSA: “Takes you back to the good old days, huh?”
JOHNSON: “Every day is a good day.”
VASSA: “As old as you are, I’m sure that’s true!”
Pushing himself up, Mike kicks Seth in the ribs a couple of times before turning to the ropes and taking off in their direction. Coming back on the rebound, Mike hits Seth across the shoulder with a running knee drop, rolling over and up to his feet in a fluid motion. On his feet, Mike then grabs ahold of Seth and slowly pulls him up. Locking onto his wrist, he then whips Seth to the ropes and takes off behind him.
Hitting the ropes, Seth’s breath is taken away as Mike is right there with a running knee to the stomach. Grabbing onto Seth with his back against the ropes, Mike begins popping his leg up from the mat, hitting Seth in the stomach over and over with lifting knee strikes. After wearing Seth down, Mike then locks onto his wrist before leaning back and pulling Seth away from the corner and into a short-arm clothesline, knocking him flat on his back.

VASSA: “Mike has taken control of this and doesn’t appear to be letting up any time soon.”
JOHNSON: “After countering that single leg takedown attempt from Seth, Mike’s been really taking it to him.”
VASSA: “I’ve been impressed with his work in the ring thus far.”
Pushing himself up to all fours, Seth shakes his head trying to come to his senses. Reaching down, Mike grabs onto him and lifts him up to his feet. Swinging upward, Mike rings Seth’s bell with a European uppercut, knocking him back against the ropes. As Seth bounces off the ropes, Mike hits him in the stomach with a superkick variation, forcing him to buckle over. Locking onto Seth’s head, Mike then grabs the back of his pants and lifts him straight into the air for a suplex.
Rolling out of Mike’s hold, Seth drops down to his feet behind him. Swinging forward, Seth nails Mike in the back of the head with a stiff forearm shot. Stepping in beside him, Seth then lifts Mike off his feet and drops him to the canvas with a side suplex. Climbing on top of Mike, Seth then unloads with a ground and pound, hammering Mike’s head into the mat.
Pushing himself up, Seth hops over Mike and goes for the ropes.

JOHNSON: “Hold up now!”
VASSA: “Get back here!”
Reaching up, Mike grabs onto the back of Seth’s pants, pulling him backwards and forcing him to trip over his body. As Seth falls to the mat, Mike rolls him up for the quick pin. Racing to the scene, the official slides in with the count.

Kicking both legs out as hard as he can, Seth knocks Mike away, breaking the pin attempt. Both men then race to their feet, Mike standing first. Lunging forward with a haymaker, Mike barely misses Seth’s head as he ducks out of the way and counters with a stiff body blow. Wrapping Mike up with both arms, Seth then lifts him off his feet and drives him into the mat with a belly to belly suplex.
Back on his feet, Seth waits patiently as Mike slowly comes to and pushes himself up. Stepping in behind him, Seth wraps him up and lifts him up and falls back, dropping him to the mat with a German suplex. Groggy, Mike crawls across the mat as Seth slowly rises to his feet. Looking on, Seth waits as Mike makes his way to the ropes and uses them to pull himself up.
After finally pulling himself up to his feet, Mike turns to face the inside of the ring before getting his bell rung as Seth steps in plants his foot into his face with a superkick. Instantly, Mike’s legs become jello as he falls to the ropes and bounces off, falling face forward to the mat.

JOHNSON: “Light’s Out!”
Dropping down to his knees, Seth then rolls him over to his back and makes the cover as the official rushes in with the count.

VASSA: “Damn, that came out of nowhere!”
JOHNSON: “After getting the momentum back in his favor, Seth put a beating on Mike and wore him down.”
VASSA: “I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed with Mike’s performance tonight. After his debut, I was expecting some big things moving forward.”
JOHNSON: “It’s only one loss, it happens.”
VASSA: “I guess it’s better to pop that cherry sooner rather than later.”
JOHNSON: “And with that, Seth Daniels now moves on to two wins and no losses.”
“Lights Out” hits the speakers as Seth rises to his feet. Stepping in beside him, the official grabs his arm and raises it into the air as the final bell sounds.

POWERS: “Here is your winner, by pinfall, SETH DDAANNIIEELLSS!!!”

We cut towards the backstage area, where we see a man turned away from the camera. The manbun on top of his head is a dead giveaway to who this person his. He cradles a championship on his left shoulder. Dressed in black slacks and a plain black t-shirt, the man almost blends in with the dark hallway in front of him. Slowly he turns around, revealing himself to be Bryan Williams.
The crowd responds kindly to seeing Bryan Williams, the Pride championship shining brightly with glee. Bryan smiles, as he stares straight into the camera. He shifts back and forth, thinking, as he is quiet for the moment. He brings up his right hand, rubbing his chin for a moment as he continues to stay silent. The moment is quickly gone though, as he finally speaks.
WILLIAMS: “Winter Wasteland, by all accords, was an astounding success for yours truly. It is important this early in the year to have such successes, especially with the creation of something new. Generation Now wasn’t just a device to propel myself through the rankings of 4CW. No, it was a collaboration to help those I see floundering around on the roster. I’d say that Winter Wasteland was a pretty good success for all of Generation Now, but now we’ve entered the new year. A brand new year full of excitement and opportunities galore.”
Bryan pauses for a moment, looking down as his Pride title. He looks like a proud champion, affectionately holding it up on his shoulder for all to see.
WILLIAMS: “This is the reflection of my hard work, everything that I have driven myself towards. Everything I strive to be, it is cast entirely into what you see here. At Winter Wasteland I beat three others, three others who were equally as driven. Three others who desperately wanted to claim what I own. Three others who could not take me down, who could not make me quit. This is a reminder of the sacrifices I have made, and the successes that I have achieved. It’s a reminder that this year is entirely dependent on what I make of it, of what I achieve in it. I am a proud champion, and I look forward to what the new year has to bring me.”
Bryan pauses, yet again, as he looks down at his title. His smile slowly fades, a serious manner creeping into his reflection. His face becomes stoic, all business now as he removes the title from his shoulder. Grasped in his right hand, Bryan holds the belt up in front of the camera.
WILLIAMS: “I can only hope I have motivated someone, anyone out there on the roster to come and try me. To come and try to take this title away from me, take away everything I have worked for in this company. I hope that this new year brings an opportunity for someone out there, someone to try and best me in the ring. What good is a proud champion, without a challenger?”
With that, Bryan brings the title back over his shoulder. He smiles into the camera, silent as ever. After a few moments the scene fades out, leaving nothing but his words ringing in a hopeful challenger’s ear.


POWERS: “The following contest 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. Wrigley 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.
“From the Entertainment Capital of the World, Atlantic City! Staning 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.
JOHNSON: ”Here we go with our next match folks. We have Eddie Valentine taking on 4CW mainstay Niobe Martin.”
VASSA: ”Great a match with a couple of losers. Just what everyone wanted to see.”
JOHNSON: ”It is true that both have been on a bit of a slump lately. But at least one of them will walk away with a win tonight.”
VASSA: ”And the audience will lose.”
JOHNSON: ”Shut up Vinny.”
VASSA: ”Fuck off Steve!”
As the opening of “Nightmare” by Avenged Sevenfold begins to play over the arena, a video flashes on the big screen of a camera shot panning up a grassy hill at night, slowly until it gets to the top. Panning from left to right, lighting flashing in the sky as the opening guitar riff begins to sound.
POWERS: “Introducing to the ring from Anaheim, California, weighing in at one hundred twenty five pounds and standing five feet, seven inches tall! She is the “Nightmare”, NIOBE MMAARRTTIINN!!!”
The video on the screen then switches to a video package of Niobe in the ring, flashing and moving in time with the drum beat.
Now your nightmare comes to life..”

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

As the lyrics of the song continue to play, she drops her arms and walks down the ramp, a smirk on her face as she sneers at the crowd as she passes before sliding under the bottom rope of the ring. She stands up and throws off the hood of her jacket, glaring at the crowd with a smirk on her face.
JOHNSON: ”Both of these competitors are looking focused and ready here tonight!”
The ref checks with both participants, making sure they are both ready. Both nod showing they are ready. The ref raises his arm and signals for the bell.

Eddie and Niobe start circling each other. Both looking serious as they both reach out testing the waters. The two eventually tie up, both trying to get the upper hand. Eddie takes it due to his slight size advantage. Eddie back Niobe up to the ropes and pushes her against them before launching her towards the opposite side. She rebounds off the ropes back towards Eddie, who goes for a clothesline. Niobe ducks under and hits the ropes once again and comes back at Eddie again. This time he goes for a back body drop but Niobe continues the rotation and lands on her feet.
”Niobe showing off her quickness and agility! She is like a cat in the ring.”
VASSA: ”So, you’re saying she is a pussy? Isn’t that sexist Steve?”
JOHNSON: ”Not like that you ass. Why do I even bother with you?”
VASSA: ”Cause Perry pays you to.”
JOHNSON: ”That he does, Vinny, that he does.”
Niobe quickly spins around and catches Eddie off guard with a standing drop kick, sending him down to the mat. Niobe pops back up and drops an elbow onto Eddie to keep him down. She goes for a quick cover but Eddie kicks out before the ref can even get into position. Both get back to their feet with Eddie being a second quicker and able to take Niobe down with an arm drag. He keeps a hold of her arm and spins himself into position to apply a cross arm breaker.
JOHNSON: ”Great technical display by Eddie Valentine. Impressive for the young star.”
VASSA: ”I can’t wait for him to use his technical skill to the ultimate test and grab Niobe by the FUPA.”
JOHNSON: ”What in the heck is a fupa?”
VASSA: ”Fat Upper Puss-”
JOHNSON: ”Niobe might be in trouble if Eddie can get that arm breaker locked in!”
Niobe is trying to lock her hands together to stop Eddie from locking in the submission move. After a few moments, though, her grip slips and Eddie wrenches back on her arm. Niobe’s face distorts from the shock of pain the move sent through her body. She grimaces and starts fighting through the pain. She flails her legs, trying futilely to reach the ropes. Eddie just chuckles and pulls back on her arm, send fresh waves of pain through her elbow and shoulder.
Looking around frantically Niobe starts to hit Eddie in the legs, trying to cause enough pain for him to let go. She lands a few punches into his knee before grabbing it and digging her thumb into the soft tissue of the back of his knee. Eddie cries out is shock and pain and lets go of the hold and swatting at Niobe’s hand. She lets go and rolls away, shaking her arm trying to get some feeling back into it.

JOHNSON: ”Quick thinking there by Niobe to get out of that hold.”
VASSA: ”Yeah but what kind of damage has been done? He could have hyper extended her elbow!”
Niobe gets up slowly, keeping an eye on Eddie. He is also slow to get up, testing his knee and rubbing the back of it. After a couple of steps Eddie trusts his leg enough to charge Niobe who was still trying to get feeling back into her arm. She sees him coming and meets him with a drop toe hold, causing his face to land on the bottom turnbuckle. He rolls around on the mat, holding his face.
Niobe steps over him to get to the corner. She looks back at Eddie over her shoulder before launching herself up and hitting an almost picture perfect Split-legged Moonsault.

JOHNSON: ”The Torment from Niobe! That was a thing of beauty to watch,”
VASSA: ”More like a nightmare! Especially after eating a face full of the turnbuckle like Eddie did.”
JOHNSON: ”Niobe going for a pin!”
Niobe hooks Eddie’s leg and goes for the pin. The ref slides into position for the count.

The ref stops counting and points to Eddie’s hand gripping the bottom rope.
JOHNSON: ”The new kid with some ring awareness! Stopping the count by grabbing the ropes.”
VASSA: ”Rookie mistake by Niobe. She should have known better than to not bring his arms in. Well, at least she is decent to look at.”
Steve shakes his head looking at Vinny in disgust. A frustrated Niobe yells out in frustration and pulls Eddie away from the corner. She starts to go for another pin but he fights back with a stiff right hand. Niobe staggers back and Eddie gets to his feet. Niobe stalks back towards him going for a shot of her own that Eddie blocks. He then lands another blow to her head, once again sending her staggering back. Eddie, thinking to take advantage of his blows, charges at Niobe. She lands a kick into his gut doubling him over.
JOHNSON: ”Niobe with the bait on Eddie. And boy did he fall for it.”
VASSA: ”Would that make Niobe a master baiter?”
JOHNSON: ”Get off it Vinny!”
VASSA: ”That’s what I’m trying to find out!”
JOHNSON: ”Looks like Niobe is going to end this match.”
Niobe puts Eddie’s head between her legs and signals for the end. She locks her arms around Eddie’s waist and heaves him up on to her shoulder. She starts setting him up for the Hallucination but Eddie starts struggling and lands on his feet. He turns around and faces Niobe. He grabs around her arms and spins around before kicking his feet out and falling back, driving Niobe’s head down to the mat with his back.
JOHNSON: ”And Niobe is not welcome! Eddie able to wiggle out of the Hallucination and land the Wham, Bam, Thank you Ma’am!”
Eddie rolls Niobe over and then falls, exhausted over her. The ref slides into position.

“Renegades of Funk” by Rage Against the Machine starts to play through the arena as the ref raises Eddies arm.
JOHNSON: “And Eddie Valentine pulls off the win over 4CW veteran Niobe Martin.”
POWERS: “And your winner, by pinfall, EDDIE VVAALLEENNTTIINNEE!!!”
VASSA: “Man, I wanted to see him grab her by the FUPA. His shirt is a damned lie!”
JOHNSON: “Tough break for you and Niobe, Vinny, but Eddie gets the win here tonight. A much needed one for the young kid.”

The sound of a pipe organ begins to fill the arena as the crowd rises to its feet in a hail of boos. Every few seconds, the pipe organ increases up the musical scale by one note. Suddenly, as the pipe organ hits its dramatic note, the lights go out. Pyro then begins to envelop the stage for 10 seconds. When it subsides, the final tier of Dancing Mad is playing throughout the arena and Matthias Barrows walks through the curtain with his usual entourage of Stacy and Gary at his side, the former of whom has a briefcase with her.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, please welcome…Matthias Barrows!”
As he walks down the ring, what steals the attention is what Matthias is carrying with him.
“What is this about?”
VASSA: “Those look like championships to me.”
Indeed, Matthias is seen carrying three championship belts with him. He has one strapped around his waist, another on his shoulder, and the third is hanging off of his lead pipe, Black Betty, which is slung over his other shoulder.
“Do you know what those are? Those are WORLD Championships! Those are the World Championships from KEF, AWS, and NGW!”
JOHNSON: “I don’t think those are the actual titles, Vinnie.”
VASSA: “What do you mean? Of course they are! Matthias won them all, fair and square.”
JOHNSON: “No he didn’t. He defeated those champions after their titles became inactive.”
VASSA: “I’d like to see you try to tell HIM that; he’d knock your block off with that pipe of his.”
Matthias gets into the ring and immediately motions for a microphone as his entrance theme fades out, leaving nothing but the sounds of boos.
“Two weeks ago…”
Despite him speaking, the crowd continues to boo.
“Two weeks ago…SHUT THE HELL UP!!”
This causes the crowd to boo even louder.
“Such disrespect from the crowd to this champion of an athlete.”
JOHNSON: “He’s not a champion.”
Matthias doesn’t wait for the booing to subside before speaking again.
“Two weeks ago, I marched into Winter Wasteland, I overdosed Mariano Fernandez off the top rope, and I pinned his shoulders to the mat; one, two, three! By all means, I am the rightful World Heavyweight Champion of Next Gen Wrestling!”

Matthias accentuates this point by taking the championship belt off of his weapon, and holding it high in the air before laying it down in the ring.
“You see? He IS the rightful champion.”
M. BARROWS: “If you’ve been paying attention, you’ll notice that it was just the latest occurrence of something I’ve made a regular pattern. In my first match in Next Gen, I took Liam McAllister, the last man to hold the AWS World Heavyweight Championship, and I dropped his ass for a ten count in a Last Man Standing match! By all means, I am also the rightful World Heavyweight Champion of the Apex Wrestling Syndicate!”
Matthias next takes the title belt off of his shoulder, and lays it right next to the NGW Belt.
“This brings me to the long lost and forgotten Krazy Extreme Federation. Now I had to do quite a bit of research for that one, but the fact of the matter is that when it went down, I was the sole possessor of a Money in the Bank contract. My research has yielded the fact that the last man to hold the KEF World Heavyweight Championship is dead. So by default, that makes me the rightful World Heavyweight Champion of that place too!”
VASSA: “What an athlete Matthias is; he has three world championships!”
Johnson simply shakes his head with a sigh as Matthias places the title around his waist on the mat with the others.
“Now I should be in this ring competing tonight, but I’m not; for two reasons. One, I caught the worst flu of my life from my trip to Europe. Granted I am starting to feel better; lord knows it isn’t from drinking the water in this dump of a town they call Boston!”
As the crowd boos, his wife takes his hand and pulls the microphone towards her own lips.
“Matthias, we’re in Baltimore.”
M. BARROWS: “Boston, Baltimore, a distinction without a difference, my love. They both reek of rotting clam chowder and their football teams are the biggest cheaters in the NFL!”

The crowd is booing louder than ever, but it’s clear that Matthias doesn’t care.
“Oh, don’t pretend that it isn’t true! Had the referee’s not been in the Ravens’ pocket, Joe Flacco’s Super Bowl ring would be on the finger of Colin Kaepernick!”
The crowd is now letting loose with chants of “You suck!”
“The second reason I’m not in action tonight is because, pure and simple, you don’t deserve to witness an athlete of my caliber. It’s clear that this town wouldn’t appreciate the talents of a Triple World Champion anyway with how loud and obnoxious you people have proven to be. But the fact remains that the KEF, AWS, and NGW are all dead and never coming back, which should make each and every individual in that locker room nervous as hell. Matthias Barrows will no longer settle for “too little, too late”. All of you can consider yourselves officially on notice, because I am the personification of death to your championship reigns. All I need is one shot, and you will end up like the rest!”
Matthias then takes Black Betty, and with an overhand swing, shatters the center plate of one of the titles before doing the same to the other two!
“Barrows is having delusions of grandeur here.”
M. BARROWS: “The promotions that produced the shattered championships you see in this ring are gone, and for all three of them, I have been the one that has played the role of executioner! I am a Triple Crown World Champion, and I feel as though that I should have a championship to reflect that; a championship that can never, EVER, be taken from me!”
Matthias nods to his wife, who hands the briefcase that she is holding to Gary the Assassin. As he holds it up, Stacy opens it and pulls out a fourth title belt.
“Look at that championship! What a symbol of athletic prowess!”
JOHNSON: “He’s a phenomenal athlete, I’ll agree with that. But the only thing that title belt is a symbol of is Matthias Barrows’ narcissistic and over-inflated ego.”
Stacy hands the custom made championship to her husband, who holds it up high so the Baltimore crowd may boo at him some more.
“I present to you the one and only “Matthias Barrows Triple Crown Championship of Excellence.” And the best part is that it’s all mine! There isn’t a single person in that locker room that can do the kinds of things that I do in this ring, and that’s a fact! I am the only one who can hold such a prestigious championship, and all of you know it. So wipe the blood from your eye and take a good hard look, hell, feel free to take a picture because this is the last you’ll see of it tonight! Stacy, let’s scoop up Chloe and blow this dump before she catches mediocrity!”
Matthias drops the mic and his music plays again as they take their leave.
“Of all the conceited things, Matthias Barrows has made his own title belt.”
VASSA: “He deserves it after everything he’s been through.”
JOHNSON: “Well, if it’s any consolation, I don’t doubt his ability to win a championship.”


POWERS: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall…”
“Rats Rule” by Die Antwoord feat. JackBlack booms out onto the speaker system as they kill the house lights. Four spot lights center in on the stage as Max Kael swaggers out to the sound of boos. He doesn’t seem phased by the reaction he receives, his blue eye staring down at the ring as he stretches his arms on stage. As he makes his way down to the ring extra security arrives to make sure fans are unable to touch Max who continues to pay little to no attention to.
”Introducing first from Arkham, Massachusetts… standing six feet three inches tall and weighing in at two hundred and sixty pounds… MAX KKAAEELL!!!”
Reaching the ring Max quickly climbs the stairs and slips between the ropes. He slithers toward his corner where he patiently waits for the match to start.
JOHNSON: ”This should be a good one, ladies and gentlemen, although Kael is coming off a dissappointing loss to Mike Best at Winter Wasteland.”
VASSA: ”After all the hype for that match it really was a bit one sided. One has to wonder if maybe this business has just gone ahead and passed him by.”
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: “And his opponent… 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: ”Now this is a kid who certainly hasn’t let the business pass him by. Although he’s suffered some set backs, Adrian Tanner Junior is one of the bright spots of a roster that has gotten young pretty quickly on us..”
VASSA: ”It’s interesting to watch as the new breed of superstars begin to emerge onto the scene to carry us into the next generation of wrestling. And, speaking objectively here, 4CW has a lot of bright spots. Tanner is just one of them..”
JOHNSON: ”Indeed. Here’s a veteran guy unafraid to take a stand against some of the big names in this company, telling them how it is regardless of repercussions.”
VASSA: ”He did so just this week, taking Generation Now to task. Specifically Sativa Nevaeh. If you ask me, I think it’d be great if Perry booked Tanner in a rematch with Sativa at the next Pay Per View.”
JOHNSON: ”Enough chit chat. This match is just about to get under way..”
VASSA: ”Yes it is and as predicted, referee Logan Whitby signals for the bell.”

At the sound of the bell, it’s as though Tanner is launched out of a cannon. He flies through the air, connecting with a double axe handle that immediately knocks Kael down to the mat. Max is quick to get back to his feet but he probably would have been better off just staying down as he’s met with a swift kick to the stomach. Sensing the opportunity, Tanner bounces off the ropes, twists into a cartwheel, grabbing Kael from behind as he does so, taking him over with a powerbomb variation. A thud echoes throughout the arena as Kael’s head slaps off the mat brutally, causing the crowd to wince and “OOOOOOOO” at the noise.
JOHNSON: ”What a maneuver by Adrian Tanner Junior right out of the box. This kid is on fire and Max Kael is in a world of trouble..”
VASSA: ”DO A BARREL ROLL, STEVE! That’s what Tanner calls that and it’s just as effective as it is nasty.”
Quickly back to his feet, Tanner pulls Max up by his hair and whips him into the nearby corner, following up with a quick body splash before blasting him with relentless kicks to the stomach. Feeling the momentum and sensing the opportunity to put on a show for the fans, Tanner kicks Kael once more until he’s left in a seated position in the corner. Adrian then makes his way across to the opposite corner, turning back around to face Kael and takes off at a run. As he gets close to Max Kael he leaps and then connects with a running hesitation dropkick to Max’s face.
JOHNSON: ”Tanner is truly rolling tonight. This is bad news for Max Kael.”
VASSA: ”Max took the 809760432870672023464320897 hour flight to Baltimore and all he got was this lousy BOOT TO THE FACE!.”
JOHNSON: ”I’m surprised you can count that high, Vinny..”
VASSA: ”Shaddup.”
JOHNSON: ”What’s Tanner doing?.”
VASSA: ”Oh boy…. I think Max is in for some BAD NEWS!”
Indeed Tanner, relentless as ever, had immediately pulled Kael back to his feet after the dropkick to the face. Climbing to the top rope, Tanner wrapped his arms around the neck of his opponent and took a leap from the top rope, driving Kael down to the mat with a top rope rolling cravate cutter. Tanner knows it’s over. In his daze,. Kael likely knows it’s over. Hell, Tanner connected with the move so perfectly it’s probably that Kael’s mother even knows it’s over. With an easy twist, Tanner spins and hooks the leg of Max Kael, looking at the referee and nodding his head along as Whitby slid in to count the pinfall.


JOHNSON: ”That’s all she wrote, ladies and gentlemen. Adrian Tanner Junior made quick work of his opponent tonight. Dominating showing, if you do ask me..”
VASSA: ”For sure. If you ask me, Tanner just reestablished himself as one of our many superstars to watch in the coming weeks..”
In the ring, Tanner releases Max’s leg and pops up, allowing the referee to raise his hand in the air as the victor. A wide smile crosses his lips before he takes to the ropes to celebrate his quick, and well deserved victory over an overmatched opponent.
POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… ADRIAN TANNER JJUUNNIIOORR!!!”
Our scene fades from Tanner’s celebration to the backstage area.


POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following tag team contest is scheduled for one fall!”
“Kill The Lights” by Ran$om begins to play and from behind the curtains step out Brent Berstin, who smiles at the crowd before turning around where Donny and Asher Bayle step out from behind the curtain.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring at this time is RICH IN PPAARRAADDIISSEE!!!”
Donny and Asher run to the ring before sliding in it and throwing up the Rich Monoply hand signal. Asher climbs up a rope and taps his chest for saying something to the crowd while Donny talks into the camera.
Brent steps in the ring and pats both men on the back before he shoves Donny who slaps himself a few times before bouncing up and down. Brent steps out of the ring as Asher and Donny talk to each other awaiting for the bell to ring.

POWERS: “And the opponents!”
The arena lights go dark with a boom, and the big screen comes alive.

After a sudden flickering, “KNOCC’EM DOWN!” by Snoop Dogg blasts through the arena sound system.
“I fade ’em
Run it
I fade ’em
I need that
I knock ’em down!”

Once the arena lights come back on, the crowd erupts in cheers for Bryan Williams and Mariano Fernandez standing at the entrance, who pose together throwing a synchronized punch.
“Iron fists like Tekken
Jump kick wood tips on you in a second
Ready for the battle, you can pick the weapons
God Fist combo, here comes the blessing!”

POWERS: “And now, introducing the team of Bryan Williams, and Mariano Fernandez… TEAM RRUUSSHHDDOOWWNN!!!”
Bryan and Mariano step together, decidedly, down the aisle and into the stage.
“When I start checking chins
You won’t last a couple seconds, buster’s gone in the wind
And Doggie does it again
Stepping ya’ll, repping Dogg, tip toe wrecking, this is Tekken!”

Bryan gets in the ring through the top and middle rope, as Mariano hops above, and they strike a pose to the fans as the song dies down.
VASSA: “It’s about damn time!”
JOHNSON: “What’s that, Vinny?”
VASSA: “It’s about time that we get to see Team Rushdown in action! It’s been months now.”
JOHNSON: “I’ve been hungry for some good tag team action as well.”
VASSA: “I bet you have, but not the kind that goes down inside of a wrestling ring.”
JOHNSON: “What’s that mean?”
VASSA: “Oh nothing.”
JOHNSON: “Tonight we have a new team making their debut in 4CW. Donny and Asher Bayle, the team of Rich In Paradise, will make their debuts against the team of Bryan Williams and Mariano Fernandez, Team Rushdown.”
VASSA: “It’s a debut for both teams tonight but only one will walk away with the victory following the final bell.”
As the official stands by in the center of the ring, both teams talk amongst themselves before finally coming to a decision as to who will begin the match. Staring things off for Rich In Paradise, Donny comes forth as Asher steps out onto the apron. For Team Rushdown, Mariano steps through the ropes, leaving Williams to kick things off. With both teams locked and loaded, the official then calls for the bell, officially kicking off the match.

Skipping along to the center of the ring, Williams bounces back and forth, keeping himself loose as Donny slowly approaches him. As the two stand toe to toe, they both lunge forward, locking up in the center of the ring. Before you know it, Donny pulls Bryan’s head down and pulls it against his side, locking him up in a side headlock. Quick to react, Williams plants his hand onto Donny’s back before driving him forward and pushing him off and towards the ropes. Hitting the ropes and coming back on the rebound, Donny turns his shoulder forward, driving it into Bryan and knocking him to his back with a shoulder block.
Popping up from the mat, Bryan rushes in to Donny and slaps him across the chest with both hands, pushing him back a few steps. Thrusting forward, Donny then drives both of his hands into Bryan’s chest, pushing him back in return. Both growing angry, they then lunge towards one another and lock up for a second time. This time, Donny quickly latches onto Bryan’s wrist before ducking underneath his arms and positioning himself behind Bryan, pinning his arm behind his back. Throwing back and elbow naturally, Bryan clocks Donny against the side of the head with it, breaking his hold before pulling himself away.
Bryan quickly spins around and then delivers a swift kick to Donny’s knee, forcing him to drop down to it from the weight of his body. Taking a few steps back, Bryan then sweeps in, hitting him with a superkick underneath the chin, standing him straight up. Swinging forward, bryan connects with a forearm shot to Donny’s face before locking onto his arm and whipping him to the corner where Mariano awaits. As Donny crashes against the corner, Bryan is right there to lift him off his feet with a running clothesline. He then slaps hands with Mariano, initiating the tag.

JOHNSON: “Team Rushdown is off to the races with a quick tag!”
VASSA: “This may be their first match as a tag team, but their experience and relationship make them a force to be reckoned with.”
Entering the ring, Mariano pulls Donny away from the corner before locking his arm around his head and grabbing onto the back of his pants. Lifting Donny into the air, Mariano drops him back to the canvas with a snap suplex. Back on his feet, Mariano then turns to the corner before ascending to the top. Once overlooking the entire ring, Mariano then leaps into the air, soaring like a bird as he comes down with a shooting star press across Donny’s body.
VASSA: “Donny rolls out of the way!”
JOHNSON: “Just in the niche of time!”
Curling while on the mat, Mariano cradles his stomach as the effects of that botched shooting star press start to kick in. Crawling across the ring, Donny finally makes it to his corner where he extends his hand and makes the tag with Asher who leans as far over the top rope as he can.
After dipping through the ropes, Asher races across the ring as Mariano slowly pushes himself up to all fours. Locking onto Mariano’s head, Asher then hits him with back to back elbow shots to the face before spinning in place and laying him out with a roundhouse kick. Asher then turns to the ropes and takes off in their direction before coming back on the rebound and leaping forward into the air. Like a bird, he flies as if weightless before coming down and landing a splash across Mariano’s body. Quickly hooking Mariano’s leg, Asher goes for the pin as the official slides in beside them with the count.


Springboarding over the top rope, Bryan lands an elbow drop to the back of Asher’s head, breaking up the officials count and the pin. The official quickly stands to his feet, closing in on Bryan as he rises to his and backing him into his corner. Not giving the official any lip, Bryan exits to the apron as both wrestlers in the ring slowly climb to their feet.
Standing first, Mariano grabs ahold of Asher and assists him up the rest of the way. He then jumps straight up and wraps his arm around Asher’s head before planting it into the mat with a swing DDT. On his feet, Mariano then pulls Asher to his and drags him back to the corner where his partner, Bryan awaits on the apron. Holding Asher in place, Mariano then slaps hands with Bryan, making the tag.
Mariano holds Asher in place as Bryan enters the ring. Bryan then locks onto Asher and Team Rushdown then pulls him further away from the ropes. Together, the two then throws Asher to the ropes and as he comes back on the rebound, they both sandwich him with running European uppercuts, Bryan yelling “SHORYUKEN!” as they level Asher.

VASSA: “That’s all she wrote!”
JOHNSON: “Aerial Rave!”
As Asher drops to the mat, Bryan then drops down to his knees and makes the cover as the official quickly begins the count.

Donny enters the ring and charges towards the cluster but Mariano quickly takes notice.

As Donny closes in, Mariano hits him with a dropkick to the knee.
JOHNSON: “Arrow to the Knee!”

VASSA: “That’s it! Team Rushdown wins it in their tag team debut!”
JOHNSON: “This is a big win for them tonight in just one of two tag team matches that Generation Now will compete in tonight.”

Knocc’em Down” hits the speakers as Bryan and Mariano unite side by side in the center of the ring. Stepping in between them, the official grabs onto each of their arms and raise them into the air as the crowd erupts with cheers throughout the entire arena.
POWERS: “Here are your winners, Mariano Fernandez and Bryan Williams… TEAM RRUUSSHHDDOOWWNN!!!”

Bothered. A look of disappointment, a mixture of the two was seen on Jason Cashe’s face as the cameras cut to the backstage. Dragging his foot in a limping shuffle he will argue his dick heavy so he has the limp. From up a head of him, one of the locker room doors open. In his line of sight he sees Lord Raab exit out into the hallway. Their eyes lock on to the other and Cashe drops his head in a roll as Raab turns to approach.
RAAB: “Ahhh Jason! My old rival! I at one time hated you so badly that it burned me to see you. Now? I see something completely different.”
Almost slumped at the shoulders, Cashe wasn’t in the mood for this. He had his mind, his focus on something else. To discover if his prank had worked. He sure as shit didn’t want to get into a conversation with Raab. This guy annoyed Cashe to no end and their past would always keep them at each others throats when they got into arms reach. Like now.
CASHE: “What do you waaaaant Raabies? I’m busy.”
RAAB: “Oh I’m sure you are. Picking up the pieces of you that have clearly broken from the foundation that WAS Jason Cashe. Look at you! No, you know what? I wanted to come and tell you that we’re okay now. I hold no more hate for you, I forgive you for the things you’ve done in the past.”
CASHE: “Heh! Hahaha! What? You forgive ME!? Fuck your forgiveness Raabies and loosen up that mask because it’s clouded your mental. You forgive me for melting your last mask on your face? Is there still pieces under that one? How’s being disfigured working for you huh? Fuck you, I don’t have time to joke with you. I have real shit to be concerned with… Good day..”
Pushing by Lord Raab, Cashe was brushing this guy off but that outcome wasn’t accepted.
RAAB: “I’d be concerned too! I understand Jason, really I do! I’ve been there. People see me as a loser too… Welcome to the club.”
Stopping on a dime. His stride stays still as he stands head dropped looking at the floor under his feet. With his back to Raab, he wasn’t sure why he was letting this bother him but it had started too.
RAAB: “I’m sorry you’ve experienced loss. From the moment you lost the XTV Championship you have been a rather BIG disappointment. You lost Marquis too didn’t you? Or wait, YOU pushed her away. However that worked it seems to have hit you hardest. Why? She’s just another whore best known for times on her back.”
Snapping around, Cashe almost flies at Raab but the masked Green Disease doesn’t flinch. A smile builds under his mask as Cashe heavily breaths pressed up against him. Chest to chest the two stood staring at the other.
RAAB: “Remember when I had a thing for KJE? I watched you abuse her in the end. Treat her like she was nothing, meant nothing. At least to you. I’ve watched you do this to a handful of these “women” which by who’s standards I would ask but that’s not my business. What I want to know is why she has this hold on what makes you click? You’re not even together anymore and look how you’re acting!”
He knew what Raab was saying wasn’t a lie. He couldn’t understand it himself but he couldn’t understand a whole lot anyway.
RAAB: “You’re a shell of the man you once were Jason. I look at you mad, huffing and puffing like some big bad wolf but the pack leader in you is dead. That or it’s so close to death that nobody can see it anymore. You fling poop and make a witty joke here and there… Big deal. You don’t put worry in anyone. Not anymore… Hit me if I’m wrong Jason.. Or thank me for maybe giving you a spark… WAKE UP!”
Shoving Cashe back, Lord Raab slaps the SHIT out of the “Troubled1” so loud that it echoes down the hallway and back area. A few people poke their heads out of doors and from around corners to see what the noise was. Cashe just stands there. Head dropped, visibly angry as his deep breathing lifts and falls at the shoulders. Still he does nothing…
RAAB: “I feel nothing but pity for you now. Bryan Williams didn’t beat you. No, you let love beat you. Jason Cashe crumbles over a lost love. Wow… And to think… You use to be Foul! Heh I guess when it’s time, it’s time and guess what “Old Yeller”? It’s about that time. See you later Jason.”
Leaving him standing there. Jason Cashe grunted, growled, but he wasn’t mad at anyone but himself. Turning around he punches the wall as he hurries down a ways and turns into the previously trashed catering area. Ripping the refrigerator open he snatches the milk and fruit loops. Nobody had touched them. Still in his head, his thoughts running wild.
CASHE: “Motherfucker talking to me like that. Tells me I USED to the Foul like that ain’t who I still am! Fuck that dude… Fuck em all..”
He pours himself a bowl of the tainted cereal. Letting the milk splash down over the multiple colored, sugar coated flavored breakfast food. He snatched up a spoon and took a bite. Milk spills over onto his lip and beard and he just wasn’t in the mood to care. This was his rock bottom and maybe he had earned it.

The arena lights go out causing the crowd to murmur in anticipation of what is coming. The arena is filled with the main theme from Star Wars done in a minor key. The crowd erupts into cheers at the familiar song. A spotlight hits the entrance area and out comes none other than the 4CW XTV Champion, Sativa Nevaeh. She is dressed up as Leia Organa from Return of the Jedi. Yes, the slave outfit. The crowd’s reaction changes slightly as the sight of her. Some of the more die hard haters of hers change from cheers to boos. But, surprisingly, there aren’t that many. There are plenty of cat calls and cheering from the male members of the audience, cause let’s be real, that outfit is fucking sexy. Behind her comes her husband Burn dressed as classic Han Solo and carrying her XTV title. They both make their way to the ring, constantly encompassed by the spotlight.
They climb up the ring steps and Burn holds the ropes open for Sativa. After both are in the ring the lights raise and Sativa receives a mic from a crew member. The music fades out but the crowd does not. With the music gone the crowd is more or less split in their reactions. She waits a few moments for them to die down before bringing the mic up to her lips.

NEVAEH: ”I told you all I was gonna do this! I put a poll out on Twitter and everything. How the fuck you gonna act like you not know it’s me coming out here to Star Wars music? Fuck y’all are retarded as fuck ain’t ya?”
The crowd starts to send her hate again. She lowers the min and just laughs.
NEVAEH: ”But that’s not the point. I decided to do this as my personal tribute to the late Carrie Fisher. I know I’m a huge bitch a lot, but I’ll be damned it I don’t give respect out to my childhood hero. Leia was a strong independent woman in a movie before that was really a thing. She killed Jabba all by herself. No Luke, no Han, no droids, no rebels. Just her.
Like, that is some impressive shit back in the days of women in movies being eye candy or love interests for the main character. She had depth and real character. That is why I decided to do this. Plus, I love this fucking outfit. It’s sexy as fuck!”

She holds out her arms and spins around, showing off the outfit and the way it hugs her body. Once again the crowd reacts, this time there are more positive reactions than negative. Of course a lot of those are cat calls. She stops moving and brings the mic back to her lips.
NEVAEH: ”Now, with that aside lets talk about 4CW shall we? Now I know there has been a lot of shit said on Twitter about how can the people in GenNow be alright with me and my actions? Well, it’s simple really. Sit back and think about how long I’ve known Bryan for. We have been team mates over in Japan for a tournament. One we almost won I might add. I have been cool with Bronx for a hot minute also. Manny likes just about anyone, boy chill as fuck. And Lauren? Shit I been sellin’ that bitch weed and edibles for a while now.
So you see, it really clicks. Sure, I might be a bitch. But every group of people have at least one asshole or bitch in them. And lets be real, we all know that in this business sometimes to prove a point or get ahead of another group you gotta do some shady shit. Who better to get their hands dirty with that than someone who is used to it?
Who knows, they might rub off on me and tone down my bitchy attitude. You don’t really know.”

Sativa starts to pace a bit as she continues.
NEVAEH: ”Now, I know that Dybbuk and Raab are gonna have one hell of a beat down fest in just a few moments. And I am going to assume that the winner of that match is gonna get a shot at me and my title on the next Adrenaline. That’s fine. Bring it the fuck on. I don’t give a single flying fuck about it. I don’t care who it is. If Raab can pull off a miracle and win good for him. I will just have to re-educate him as to why I hold this belt and he doesn’t.
But what if Dybbuk wins? Fuck him and his old ass mouth piece. I ain’t scared of some bitch that hides behind a mask. I will prove to him why this is my title. Why I am the one destined to hold it and bring it back to it’s former glory. Winter Wasteland was just the beginning. I bathed this title in Johnny’s blood as I broke him. The title had forgotten what that tasted like, and it wants more. Next show it will get what it wants. I am still your deranged duchess, don’t worry about that. But it looks like I get to add a new title to my growing list.”

She turns to Burn and takes her title from him. She holds it up with one hand, looking out to the crowd.
NEVAEH: ”This is my title and if you want it, come and try to take it. It hungers for blood and I will give it what it wants. Because from now on, I am…”
A snarl creeps onto her face as she delivers her final line.
NEVAEH: ”4CW’s Blood Countess!”
She drops the mic as her theme music starts up. The crowd erupts into a chorus of hate at her. She just smiles and holds the belt high in the air. Then she and Burn make their way backstage.

Backstage, Lauryn Wolfe is seen pacing back and forth, trying to get out every bit of the frustration that was pent up as a result of the heated encounter with Scott Stevens earlier in the show. Now wasn’t the time for her to get caught up in her emotions, especially when there was a huge match happening for her coming up shortly. So, when she noticed that the camera was solely on her, Lauryn wasted no time in looking directly at it and speaking in a serious tone of voice.
The whole situation with Stevens could wait. There was something else that she needed to get off of her chest.

WOLFE: “You know, it’s funny how so many people can place targets on the backs of others, as if they really expect to get a bullseye or something. The issue with that washed-up has-been Scott Stevens is just one example, but trust me, there’s another one. You see, you guys think you’re seriously slick if you really expect to get away with talking shit about Generation Now, especially since a good chunk of you that’s been keeping our names in your mouths should focus more on actually making your own name mean something instead of trying to be relevant. Some of you wrestlers shouldn’t even speak as there’s a good amount of you that’s been part of stables that died off quicker than the effects Viagra has on Perry’s limp dick.”
Her words hissed out harshly as the woman became more intense.
WOLFE: “Blah blah blah blah blah fucking blah… Keep giving us your unwarranted opinions like as if what you have to say about us actually holds weight. Tanner wants to come at us and latch onto this whole ‘Generation Nope’ schtick that’s beyond corny. Jason Cashe – whose own career has been going downhill lately – wants to take shots at us and act like our stable is going to have little impact here in 4CW when his own stable died out in the end. Oh, and the Royal Family? They want to act as if this match is going to be an easy sweep for them. A whole bunch of people want to say ‘Fuck Generation Now’ and we haven’t even come together in a match yet!”
Lauryn shakes her head.
WOLFE: “Honestly? I think you guys need to take a step back and stop running your mouths off so recklessly. We told you guys that we weren’t going to be idle and do nothing. We’ve said it many times that we’re here to take the competition by its throat, and guess what? We’re going to deliver on every single promise. I guarantee you. Want more proof? Well, just watch the main event and you’ll see for yourselves that a new generation is truly upon us here in 4CW. We’re bringing in the change, and it’s happening now. If that doesn’t impress you, then, well… you can step inside the ring and face us yourself. Unless that happens though? Get off of Twitter, put down the microphones and shut the hell up.”
A snarl graces her face as Lauryn puts her hands on the camera, shoving it out the way as she leaves the area.


POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following no holds barred contest is scheduled for one fall!”
The lights within the arena go pitch-black.
“Welcome to my beautiful creation.
Where the carcasses of children suspend.
This is my slaughterhouse of sadistic faith;
the divine cathedral of fetal skin.”

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

Bob reaches the ring first and exits the spot-light, vanishing into the shadows. Dybbuk stands in front of the ring for a few moments just surveying the darkness before he climbs up on the ring apron. Dybbuk then climbs up to the second rope and stands there, intimidating all who see him. Stepping over the top rope dybbuk’s feet hit the mat with a loud crash. It’s at this time the lights come back on in the arena – revealing Bob to already be in the ring. Bob gets a demented grin on his face as Dybbuk walks over to him. He points for Bob to leave the ring, which Mr. Fisher does with haste. Dybbuk then slowly stalks his way over to his corner and waits for the match to begin.
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.
JOHNSON: “Up next we have some no holds barred action for you folks.”
VASSA: “I love these types of matches, although I’d rather not say much about a certain someone participating in it tonight..”
JOHNSON: “Raab has quite the experience in 4CW with these no rules matches. Given his experience, I think it’s clear that he has the edge going into this one.”
VASSA: “We’ve seen him be put through Hell time and time again and here he is, still standing and ready for his next challenge.”
JOHNSON: “Raab has been in some tough, brutal matches since the beginning of 4CW. Not to mention he has some momentum going into this thing as well.”
VASSA: “He was able to pick up a win over Niobe at Adrenaline Fifty-Eight. Unlike his opponent, he can use this momentum to begin building a streak for himself.”
JOHNSON: “Speaking of his opponent, you two actually met face to face at Winter Wasteland. Can you tell us anything about the mystery man?”
VASSA: “I’d rather not say. I don’t really… remember any of it.”
JOHNSON: “You don’t remember it? I find that hard to believe. You were scared out of your boots for the rest of the night.”
VASSA: “It is all one big blur. I think I had a little too much to drink.”
JOHNSON: “This isn’t like you. What happ–“
VASSA: “I said I’m not talking about it!”
Standing in the center of the ring, the official first looks to Dybbuk and gets a quick nod in return. He then turns to Raab who bounces back and forth in his corner before pulling on the top rope. Slamming his fist into his palm, Raab then points to the official, giving the okay. With both men ready in their corners, the official then throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

Brushing by the official as the bell sounds, Dybbuk charges straight for Raab. As he closes in, Dybbuk lunges forward to lock onto him but Raab quickly side steps him, grabbing the back of his head and slamming his face down onto the top turnbuckle. Dybbuk’s head bounces off the turnbuckle and he falls into Raab’s arms. Lifting Dybbuk into the air, Raab drops him throat first onto the top rope. As Dybbuk’s head hangs over the top rope, Raab then unloads with left and right body punches to Dybbuk.
Pulling Dybbuk off the top rope, Raab then turns him to face in his direction. Taking a quick step back, Raab then bursts forward, swinging upward and hitting Dybbuk in the jaw with a European uppercut that knocks him into the corner. Closing the gap between them, Raab steps in and traps both of Dybbuk’s arm, holding him in place as he begins slamming his head forward over and over, hitting Dybbuk with multiple headbutts. Raab then pulls Dybbuk away from the corner before turning them both around and lifting him up. Falling backwards, Raab drives Dybbuk’s head into the turnbuckle with a suplex variation.

VASSA: “Raab is off to a great start tonight!”
JOHNSON: “Dybbuk tried to get on him from the jump but Raab just wasn’t letting that happen.”
VASSA: “That’s right! Raab is getting after it tonight.”
Back on his feet, Raab stands over Dybbuk. Using his foot, Raab rolls Dybbuk over to his back. He then places his foot across Dybbuk’s throat and steps up onto it. Grabbing onto the top rope, Raab then uses the rope for leverage as he chokes Dybbuk, crushing his throat with the bottom of his boot. After nearly ten seconds, Raab then steps down from Dybbuk and reaches down, grabbing ahold of him and pulling him up from the mat. Placing Dybbuk’s throat across the top rope, Raab then reaches up underneath it and locks onto Dybbuk’s head. Pulling down as hard as he can, Raab then begins choking Dybbuk with the ropes as Bob Fisher begins yelling loudly from across the ring.
JOHNSON: “Typically the official wouldn’t allow this kind of maneuver but in these types of matches anything goes.”
VASSA: “Anything the wrestlers can get their hands on, including the ring, can be used as a weapon.”
Irritated, Bob then races around the ring and makes his way to the apron right in front of Dybbuk and Raab. Henry Losak quickly steps in front of him, blocking his path but before he knows it, Fisher decks him with a right hand, sending Losak falling backwards into the apron. Fisher then climbs up onto the apron and begins hammering Raab with lefts and rights, forcing him to release Dybbuk and turn his attention to him.
Reaching over the top rope, Raab wraps his hand around Fisher’s throat, holding him in place as he stares into his eyes. Locking onto Raab’s arm with both hands, Fisher tries to rip Raab’s hand away from his throat but can’t catch a break as Raab holds him in place. Meanwhile, Dybbuk slowly comes to his senses and looks to his side, seeing what is happening with his very own eyes. As Raab draws back to hit Fisher with a power punch, Dybbuk quickly backhand chops him in the throat.
Instantly, Raab releases Fisher as the old man falls to the floor. Reaching up with both hands, Dybbuk then locks onto Raab’s head and presses both of his thumbs into Raab’s eyes. With Raab now blinded, Dybbuk ducks down and then lifts Raab up onto his shoulders before falling back and dropping Raab to the mat with a Samoan drop.

VASSA: “Things have taken a bad turn for Raab ladies and gentlemen!”
JOHNSON: “With a distraction from his manager, Dybbuk was able to blindside Raab and change the momentum in his favor.”
Climbing over top of Raab, Dybbuk reaches down and wraps both hands around his throat. Squeezing as hard as he can, Dybbuk begins choking the life out of Raab. At first Raab fights violently to break free as Dybbuk stares him in the eyes, trying to take his last breath from him. After a few moments, Raab then begins growing tired as his motions slow down. Pulling Raab’s head up from the mat, Dybbuk then slams his forward, hitting Raab right between the eyes with a vicious headbutt.
Rolling Raab over to his stomach, Dybbuk then drags him towards the ropes. Letting go of Raab, Dybbuk then rolls underneath the bottom rope and drops down to the outside floor. Reaching back into the ring, Dybbuk grabs Raab and pulls him even closer to the ropes before lifting his head up and pulling it through the bottom and middle ropes. Placing Raab’s throat on top of the bottom rope, Dybbuk then locks onto Raab’s head and begins pulling down on it with all of his weight, using the rope to choke Raab even more.

JOHNSON: “Dybbuk has Raab in a bad spot right now and us using it to his advantage.”
VASSA: “Those ropes can be deadly if you’re not careful.”
JOHNSON: “What? Why haven’t you even mentioned Dybbuk’s name once tonight?”
VASSA: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Grabbing onto Dybbuk from behind, Losak tries to pull him away from Raab as he watches him having the life choked from him. Throwing his elbow back, Dybbuk connects with the side of Losak’s head, knocking him backwards across the ringside area and into the barricade. Dybbuk then locks back onto Raab with both hands and pulls him through the ropes and throws him down to the floor.
Turning to the steps, Dybbuk makes his way to the top before stepping onto the apron and walking from one side to the other. With quite a bit of distance between him and Raab, Dybbuk then takes off running along the apron. Leaping from the apron, Dybbuk extends his legs and comes down on Raab’s head with a leg drop.

VASSA: “He rolled out of the way!”
At the last split second, Raab rolls out of the way, leaving nothing but the hard floor to break Dybbuk’s fall as he comes down crashing against it. Yelling at the top of his lungs, Dybbuk drops over to his side before reaching behind him and holding his backside. Slow to his feet, Raab finally stands before looking to his side and seeing Losak propped up against the barricade. As Raab approaches Losak to check on him, Fisher blindsides him with a chair shot to the shoulder, knocking him down to one knee.
Laughing hysterically, Fisher hits Raab again with the chair, this time jabbing him in the same shoulder. Raising the chair above his head and holding it tightly with both hands, Fisher yells with joy before swinging downward.


Popping up from the floor, Raab slams both fists into the backrest of the chair, knocking it back into Fisher’s face. As Fisher drops to the floor unconscious, Raab then reaches down and picks the chair up, holding it in both hands. He then turns to find Dybbuk who is still down on the floor not far away but to his surprise, an unexpected guest startles him, causing him to quickly raises the chair up in front of his face.

Jason Cashe hops over the barricade and hits the Mark of Jason into the chair, causing it to crash against Raab’s face instantly.
VASSA: “It’s Jason Cashe!”
JOHNSON: “What’s he doing out here?!”
VASSA: “It’s like a damn chain reaction of chair shots at ringside.”
Still on his feet, Raab wobbles back and forth, dropping the chair to the floor. Pushing himself up, Dybbuk stands and looks on as Raab fights to stay up on his feet. Raab then drops to one knee and as he does, Dybbuk decides to strike. Running towards Raab, Dybbuk hits him in the back of the head with a running knee strike, laying him out cold.
JOHNSON: “The Spectrum!”
VASSA: “Oh shit, it’s nighty night for Raab!”
JOHNSON: “Why is Cashe helping him?!”
Rolling Raab over to his back, Dybbuk then crawls over him for the cover as the official rushes in and drops beside them for the count.

JOHNSON: “Dybbuk has won it ladies and gentlemen!”
VASSA: “This is very unfortunate for Raab.”
JOHNSON: “Acknowledge the man!”
VASSA: “Who that? I just see Jason Cashe and Raab at ringside right now.”
“Pelt of Innocent Flesh” hits the speakers as Dybbuk slowly climbs to his feet, locking eyes with Cashe who looks on from a distance. The official then steps in beside him and raises his arm into the air as the bell quickly sounds.

Ripping his arm away from the official, Dybbuk quickly turns to attack him but the official quickly runs for the hills.
POWERS: “Here is your winner, by pinfall, DDYYBBBBUUKK!!!”
Dybbuk then looks back to Cashe as the two share a silent, cold stare. Snapping out of it, Dybbuk then looks to Fisher before making his way over to assist the old man.
JOHNSON: “What’s going to happen next? Are we about to have a brawl at ringside?!”
VASSA: “Can we get some damn help out here for Raab please?!”
Cashe then picks up the chair from the floor, gripping it tightly in both hands.
JOHNSON: “This isn’t going to end pretty.”
While squatting down to assist Fisher, Dybbuk cuts his attention to Cashe as the two lock eyes once more. Nearly a minute passes as the two look to each other before Cashe snaps out of it and slams the chair down onto Raab’s unconscious body.

VASSA: “What are you doing Cashe?!”
JOHNSON: “Raab is defenseless! Is this really necessary?”
With no emotion in his eyes or facial expression, Cashe continues to lay down chair shots onto Raab. Over and over, Cashe beats Raab’s motionless body as the camera zooms into the action.
CASHE: “NO!!!”

After nearly ten chair shots to Raab’s fallen body, Cashe then drops the chair at his feet, breathing heavily with a lifeless look in his eyes. With Fisher awake and on his feet, Dybbuk walks the old man up the ramp, leaving the wreckage behind.
VASSA: “What the hell has gotten into Cashe tonight?”
JOHNSON: “I don’t know, Vinny. But Raab is clearly in need of some medical attention here at ringside.”
VASSA: “Somebody call a damn medic!”
JOHNSON: “Folks, we’re going to go backstage momentarily as we get things cleared up here at ringside before our main event. We’ll be right back.”


JOHNSON: “Up next folks we have our main event and with the names booked in this one, it’s guaranteed to be huge!”
VASSA: “Generation Now is the new craze going around 4CW and with its most recent member revealing himself at Winter Wasteland, the hype is off the charts!”
JOHNSON: “That’s right ladies and gents! Bronx Valescence has in fact returned to 4CW and will fight beside fellow Generation Now members, Lauryn Wolfe and Sativa Nevaeh, as they take on three of 4CW’s Royal Family.”
VASSA: “We all knew it was a matter of time before these two power groups collided. I’m happy is was booked sooner rather than later.”
JOHNSON: “On one side, we have Lauryn Wolfe, Bronx Valescence, and the 4CW XTV Champion, Sativa Nevaeh.”
VASSA: “On the other side we have the 4CW Fate Champion and one half of the Tag Team Champions, Tara Davidson, teaming up with Genevie Carlson and the newly crowned 4CW Champion, Elijah Carlson.”
JOHNSON: “This match is stacked with competition from top to bottom. Some are champions, some aren’t, but they all bring a lot to the table here tonight.”
VASSA: “Let’s not forget double champion! We have one of those in the mix tonight as well.”
JOHNSON: “We sure do, Vinny.”
VASSA: “For this to not be a pay-per-view, this is a really HUGE main event.”
JOHNSON: “I can’t think of a better way for us to kick things off with the first Adrenaline following Winter Wasteland.”
VASSA: “The ref looks like he’s ready to get on with the show. What do you say, Steve?”
JOHNSON: “What are we waiting for?!”
The “Stranger Things” intro starts to kick over the house speakers as the fans give their initial pop when smoke begins to fill the stage.
POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen, our main event is scheduled for one fall!”
As the remix to “Starboy” kicks in, Bronx slowly makes his way out on stage. Pausing in the middle of the stage, he turns sideways and points a finger gun towards the ring before he pulls the trigger and gives a loud, audible laugh before he continues down the ramp, a smug grin on his face as he slaps hands with hands on either side of the ramp.
POWERS: “Making his way to the ring from Portland, Oregon, weighing in at two hundred five pounds… He is BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”
When Bronx gets down to the end of the ramp, he uses one leap onto the ring apron, and then spins around, holding onto the ropes before rising his feet on the apron and walking over to his corner and using the ropes to vault into the ring. Opening his arms out to either side he spins until he bounces into the ropes and poses one time for the fans before smirking and removing his ring jacket and sunglasses, neatly placing them underneath his corner turnbuckle before leaping onto the top turnbuckle to sit.
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: “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.
“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 start to strobe between blue and red as ”Fucking in the Bushes” by Oasis kicks up. Sativa walks out from the back with her handy baseball bat draped across her shoulders and the 4CW XTV Championship strapped around her torso and over her shoulder, bandolier style. She sidesteps across the stage playing to the fans and having them boo her in return.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring, hailing from Los Angeles, California, Standing five feet seven inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twenty-five pounds, she is the current 4CW XTV Champion, the ‘Deranged Duchess of Wrestling’, SATIVA NNEEVVAAEEHH!!!”
Sativa makes her way to the ring amid the boos and jeers from the crowd. Sativa skips carefree, smiling the entire way. One fan, leaning over the guardrail, starts jeering at her, trying to get in her face. She pauses for a moment and tilts her head to the side, staring at the fan. She then bursts into laughter in their face and continues to the ring.
She tosses the XTV Championship into the ring and then climbs up onto the apron, kneeling in front of the ropes, the bat resting on her outer shoulder. She looks out around the crowd before seductively laying down and rolling into the ring. She pops up to her feet and skips around the ring ignoring the XTV Championship, pointing out into the crowd and laughing occasionally.

VASSA: “People can say whatever negative things they want about this team but the electricity is pumping throughout at the sight of these three uniting in the ring.”
JOHNSON: “Since Adrenaline Fifty, there has only been one group of wrestlers aligned and that’s been the Royal Family.”
VASSA: “That all has changed with the creation of Generation Now!”
JOHNSON: “These young stars have promising futures ahead of them. It’s no secret that they’re the future of this business.”
VASSA: “I’m thrilled beyond belief that 4CW was able to house all of them under one roof! What other group out there has created this much buzz since its birth? Unstable?”
JOHNSON: “They had their moment in the spotlight at one time, but this is the future, this is the generation of today.”
“Blood, blood, blood
Pump mud through my veins
Shut your dirty, dirty mouth
I’m not that easy”

As the sound of “Blood” by In This Moment fills the inside of the arena, the lights are dimmed down, leaving only a bright spotlight which shines upon the curtains as a lone female figure pushes them open stepping out to the jeers and catcalls of the crowd.
POWERS: “And the opponents!”
Tara Davidson rubs both of her hands across the golden plate of her 4CW Fate Championship, sitting over top of her half of the Tag Team Championships. She tosses her hair back behind her shoulders before she begins to walk towards the ring with the crowd still clamoring to be heard above the pounding music.
POWERS: “Hailing from Miami, Florida, weighing in at one hundred twenty pounds and standing five feet, four inches tall… the reigning 4CW Fate Champion and one half of the 4CW Tag Team Champions… ‘The Red Queen’… TARA DDAAVVIIDDSSOONN!!!”
“Blood, blood, blood
Pump mud through my veins
I’m a dirty, dirty girl
I want it filthy”

Tara approaches closer towards the ring and swiftly jumps up onto the apron as she kneels down upon one knee. She keeps one hand upon the middle rope as she looks out towards the crowd blowing them some kisses before slipping in between of the ropes with ease. Once inside of the ring, she walks towards the middle and removed her championship belts from around her waist before holding them up high in the air as the lights come back on before the music fades out leaving just the jeers of the crowd to fill the inside of the arena.
The lights around the arena go dark aside from one singular spotlight pointed directly at the top of the entrance ramp. After a few seconds of silence a man dressed to the nine’s in a tuxedo comes out with a scroll in his hands, stopping in the middle of the spotlight as another worker runs out a microphone and a stand and sets it before the unnamed man. Slowly the man unravels the scroll and clears his throat.
HERALD: ”HEAR YE! HEAR YE! By royal decree, the Prince and Princess of Four Corners Wrestling COMMAND YOU to rise from your seats and show some well deserved respect as Princess Genie and Prince Eli makes their way to the ring. ALL RISE!”
Boo’s reign down upon the man loudly as he rolls the scroll back up and moves off to the side, standing with his arms at his side respectfully as the spotlight shuts off, plunging the entire arena into darkness. On the big screen, images of Elijah Carlson highlights flicker. A coronation kick to the temple of Chris Mosh, an Ascension leaping, twisting splash from the top rope onto Keith Daniels, and an image of Eli and Genie standing on top of the Warzone of Horrors cage scanning the crowd and the carnage around them are among the short bursts of images that are mixed in before once again the arena plunges into darkness. After a long moment of silence the sound of a fierce wind fills the arena before the opening beats of “Motivation” by T.I. ring forth over the speakers, the lights coming back on full blare as the big screen begins playing highlights of Eli’s career in 4CW again.
“Better get on yo job, tell’em, haters get on yo job, nigga (Motivation)
Nigga, get on yo job, tell’em, haters get on yo job, nigga (Motivation)
Haters better get on yo job, tell’em, haters get on yo job, nigga (It’s motivation)
Sucka nigga, get on yo job, if ya, hatin’ get on yo job, nigga”

Finally emerging from the backstage area with his arms extended outward and a wide, arrogant grin on his face, Eli walks to the top of the entrance ramp and pauses, his arms slowly coming back down to grip the edges of the unzipped leather jacket. His eyes scan the crowd as the man in the tuxedo, who had been standing so respectfully still only moments earlier, bows low to the self proclaimed Prince of 4CW. As he bows, a group of other people come out from the backstage area and maneuver themselves around Eli. At his feet they begin to roll a red carpet down the entrance ramp for him to walk on. Instead of moving immediately down the ramp, however, Eli holds out his arm and waits patiently.
“You can look me in my eyes, see I’m ready for whatever
Anythang don’t kill me, make me better
I ain’t dead nigga, you can take the fame and the chedda
And the game, and the deal, I’m still a go-getter
Take my freedom for the moment but it ain’t fo-ever
I got the spirit of a god, heart of a dope dealer
I’m a king, seen hangin’ with some cold killas
I ain’t never back down or ran from no nigga”

A moment later Genevie steps out onto the stage and walks with a sarcastic smile on her face, gliding directly to Eli. The man in the tuxedo presents the 4CW Championship, which she takes from him and then steps behind Eli, wrapping the belt around his waist and fastening it. Genie then moves and links her arm with Eli’s. Again, the man in the tuxedo bows to both of them, going so far as to allow his knee to touch the ground and rest there as he lowers his head. Without another moment passing, Eli and Genie begin their walk down the ramp toward the ring. Behind them the kneeling man stands and begins to roll the red carpet up behind them. Once at the bottom of the entrance ramp Genie frees her arm from Eli’s, taking his face into her hands and kissing him tenderly on the lips before he holds his arms out for her to remove his jacket for him. After she had done so the man in the tuxedo retrieves it from her while Eli rolls himself into the ring and makes his way over to the far turnbuckle, unbuckling the belt from his waist and taking it into his right hand, climbing the turnbuckle and raising his arms and belt in the air sarcastically as the boo’s reign down even louder than before. As the song plays Genie walks around to the side of the ring, hopping up on the apron. She adjusts her SnapBack as she blows the fans a kiss, listening to the boos get louder. This only makes her smirk grow wider as she climbs through the middle ropes, and standing up in the ring as she runs her hands down her body.
“I ain’t sat down yet, pimp, standin’ gorilla
Even if I’ma all alone or standin’ with four niggaz
Tell’em jump, pimpin’ it don’t get no realer
5’9″ with the soul of a 6’4″ nigga
I separated the fakes, paralized from the waist down
From the real stand up guys of the A-Town
Can’t even look me in my eyes, put yo face down
I’m outta jail nigga, whachu gotta say now?”

She does one final twirl to show off her ASSETS, rolling her eyes at the jealous fans as she goes over to the ropes and leans against them, checking her nails as the referee comes over and she dismisses him to get away from her because he is a peasant and she is The Princess

HERALD: “Four Corners Wrestling is proud to present to you, the ‘Boston Genie” GENEVIE CCAARRLLSSOONN and the ‘Prince of 4CW’, the 4CW Champion… ELIJAH CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”
Eli hops down from the turnbuckle amidst a chorus of boo’s as Genie claps and cheers, sneering at the fans for daring to boo her husband.
VASSA: “Talk about an entrance! I think they just topped Generation Now by leaps and bounds.”
JOHNSON: “There is a lot of championship gold in that ring with Tara and Eli. Then when you look on the other side of the ring with Sativa, this match is filled to the brim with top notch 4CW talents.”
VASSA: “The Royal Family aligned following Ante Up and ever since, they’ve done exactly what they’ve said they were going to do and that’s take 4CW by storm.”
JOHNSON: “There’s no doubt about that! They have been a force to be reckoned with. Two members have been double champions. One member is the current top champion in 4CW. It doesn’t get any better than this.”
VASSA: “Let’s not completely sell Generation Now short. They do have another championship to their name with Bryan Williams and the Pride Championship.”
JOHNSON: “Well he isn’t in this match. Team Rushdown already had a successful tag team debut earlier tonight. A win here for Generation Now would be huge for the group as we kick things off leading up to our next pay-per-view.”
VASSA: “Speaking of which, has that event even been named? South Beach Brawl is in April but I’ve been told we will have a new PPV in February.”
JOHNSON: “You are correct sir! We will have a new PPV next month and from what I have been told, the details and name will be announced at the next Adrenaline.”
VASSA: “I can’t wait to find out what that new event will be.”
JOHNSON: “Well then let’s get on with our main event and we’ll then be one step closer to Adrenaline Sixty!”
Both teams huddle up in their corners and talk amongst themselves. After a few short moments pass, Eli and Tara step out onto the apron, leaving Genie to start the match off for the Royal Family. Across the ring, Generation Now makes a decision as both Sativa and Lauryn exit the ring, leaving Bronx to kick things off in his 4CW return.
VASSA: “Oh boy, this is going to be awkward.”
JOHNSON: “What do you mean, Vinny?”
VASSA: “Well you know, the whole cyber thing and them being ‘brother and sister’.”
JOHNSON: “Are you even sure that happened?”
With both Bronx and Genie ready in their corners, the official then calls for the bell to start the match.

VASSA: “Here we go, Bronx’s return to a 4CW ring!”
With their teammates cheering for them in the background, both Genie and Bronx leave their corners and slowly approach one another until stopping just a foot apart in the center of the ring. As the two look one another over, Bronx slowly raises his arm before extending his finger out, pointing it in Genie’s face, imitating a gun. Laughing, he then fires a shot in her face.
JOHNSON: “Bang!”
VASSA: “Bet he fired something else off onto his screen while they cybered!”
Before Bronx can lower his arm, Genie swings forward, punching him in the midsection swiftly. Buckling over, Bronx cradles his stomach with his arm, leaving his head wide open as Genie spins around and connects with a roundhouse kick, knocking him flat on his back. Rolling over to his stomach and pushing himself up to all fours, Bronx shakes off the kick to the head instantly. As he rises, Genie then rushes in and connects with a fierce elbow to the side of his head, knocking him back a step.
Locking onto his wrist, she then whips him to the far ropes and as he comes back on the return, Genie leans over forward, setting him up to flip over her as he closes in. Coming to an abrupt stop, Bronx kicks his foot up from the mat, slamming it into Genie’s face and standing her straight up. He then aims for her head with a superkick, missing as she ducks out of the way and counters with an elbow shot to the stomach.
Lunging forward with both hands, Genie digs with her claws, giving him a nasty eye rake. Lifting Bronx off his feet, Genie then slams him onto his back with a body slam. Turning to the ropes to her right, she takes off for them and after bouncing off, she comes back on the rebound with a rolling knee drop across his forehead. On her feet, she slowly circles Bronx, taunting him before grabbing ahold of his arm and pulling him up to his feet. Dragging him across the ring, she then throws him into the corner where her eager teammates await on the outside apron.

JOHNSON: “Whether or not they’re brother and sister, Genie doesn’t seem to care either way.”
VASSA: “Poor Bronx. The guy just wants to get laid.”
Slapping hands with Tara, Genie tags her in before turning back to Bronx and firing off with rapid kicks to his stomach. Once Tara enters the ring, Genie then steps out of the way, leaving Tara to tend to him before exiting onto the apron. Locking onto the top rope, Tara uses it as leverage as she begins kicking Bronx in the midsection. She then lifts him up and sets him on top of the corner. Climbing up to the middle ropes, she then wraps her arm around Bronx’s head before falling back and pulling him down, planting his head into the canvas with a DDT.
Bronx’s body rolls over as his back drops to the mat. From the outside, Eli uses the ropes to vault himself up and over, entering the ring through the air and coming down across Bronx’s chest with an elbow drop. Instantly, Lauryn dips through the ropes and races to the scene. Just as Eli stands back to his feet with his back turned to her, Lauryn drops her shoulder and drives it into Eli’s ribs from behind, knocking him forward and crashing frontwards into the corner.
The official then closes in on Lauryn, forcing her away from the scene with his back turned to the legal wrestlers in the ring. Barely holding himself up in the corner, Eli favors his ribs as Genie checks in with him from the apron. Meanwhile, Tara grabs ahold of Bronx and pulls him up to his feet. Pulling him away from the corner, she then positions herself beside him and goes for a forward Russian leg sweep. Pulling himself away, Bronx leaves Tara empty handed as she crashes down to the mat.
Falling backwards into the ropes, Bronx bounces off and delivers a swift kick to Tara’s head as she pushes herself up. He then pulls her up to her feet and locks onto her arm before whipping her across the ring to the corner where Sativa stands alone. As Tara crashes into the corner, Sativa lunges over the ropes and nails her in the back of the head with a solid right hand. Out of nowhere, Lauryn then pulls herself onto the apron and grabs Tara by the head, turning her around to face her. With both hands locked on her head, Lauryn then drops down to the floor, crushing Tara’s throat across the top rope in the process. Bouncing off the ropes, Tara then falls into Bronx’s arms and before she knows it, he lifts her up and drops her to the mat with a German suplex.

JOHNSON: “Tara is getting it from all angles over there!”
VASSA: “They teamed up on Bronx across the ring. As far as I’m concerned, they’re just returning the favor.”
JOHNSON: “Everyone has to watch themselves from all angles in this match.”
Bronx then stands tall before looking to his corner and making the tag with Sativa. As he exits the ring, Sativa climbs the corner until standing high above the ring. She then leaps into the air, twisting and turning until coming down across Tara with a corkscrew senton.
VASSA: “Things are getting lit now!”
Pulling Tara up from the mat, Sativa locks her arm around her head before pulling her towards the corner. Stepping up onto the middle ropes, Sativa steps from one side to the other before pushing herself off and pulling Tara along into a DDT. With Tara on her back, Sativa then makes the cover and hooks her leg as the official rushes over for the count.

Breaking up the pin, Eli plants his foot across the back of Sativa’s head. Before a fight breaks loose, the official forces Eli away from the action, walking him to the opposite side of the ring. Not pushing back, Eli then dips through the ropes as Sativa and Tara both slowly climb to their feet on the opposite side of the ring.
Standing first, Tara takes a swing for Sativa as she just stands to her feet. As Sativa ducks out of the way, Tara connects with Lauryn on the apron, knocking her off and down to the floor. Grabbing ahold of Tara’s shoulder, Sativa spins her around and delivers a kick to the gut, forcing her to buckle over from the impact. She then grabs onto Tara’s head and holds it down as she kicks her leg up from the mat and drives her knee into Tara’s face, knocking her into the corner.
Unloading on Tara, Sativa goes berserk with punches and kicks, pounding away at her head and body. Turning the momentum, Tara then catches Sativa’s foot in mid air. Driving forward, Tara then pushes Sativa away while lifting her leg up even higher, taking her off her feet and sending her to the mat on her back. Rolling over her head and touching both feet to the mat, Sativa pushes herself up only to get caught with reverse roundhouse kick to the chops.
Tara then locks onto Sativa’s arm and throws her to the ropes but before she releases, Sativa reverses the throw and sends Tara towards them instead. As Tara comes back on the rebound, Sativa lifts her off her feet and spins her around for a tilt-a-whirl backbreaker. Locking her legs around Sativa’s head, Tara counters and throws Sativa across the ring with a head scissors takedown.

VASSA: “Oh scissor me timbers!”
JOHNSON: “That was just a head scissors takedown! Get ahold of yourself Vinny!”
VASSA: “You already know what I want to see these two do to each other in that ring!”
Both ladies are now on the mat, crawling in opposite directions towards their corners. At the same time, they reach their destinations, extending forward for a tag. Reaching over the top ropes, Eli extends his hand towards Tara and the two make the tag as the arena pops with mixed reactions. At that same moment, Lauryn reaches over and slaps hands with Sativa.
JOHNSON: “We have two tags!”
VASSA: “The final two that haven’t been legal in the match yet!”
JOHNSON: “Lauryn’s already attacked once on Eli and you can tell he’s still favoring those ribs.”
VASSA: “She just won’t let up. She’s made those ribs her bitch since early last year.”
Both Eli and Lauryn dip through the ropes, erupting from their corners and charging each other. They then collide in the center of the ring in an exchange of blows. Connecting with a right to the jaw, Eli whips her head to the side only to catch a stinging shot to the ribs in return. Buckling over to his side, Eli clutches his ribcage, giving Lauryn an opportunity to ring his bell with a European uppercut. Eli’s head whips backwards as spit launches from his mouth and into the air.
Stepping in and grabbing onto Eli’s head, Lauryn then drops him to the canvas with a neckbreaker that causes the entire arena to rise to their feet and erupt. Back on her feet, Lauryn turns to the ropes and as she comes back with even more speed, she hits Eli with a running knee drop to the ribs. In tremendous pain, Eli holds his ribs as he slowly rocks back and forth on the mat. On her feet, Lauryn circles Eli for a moment, playing to the crowd in the process as they cheer her on. She then stops at his side and begins kicking him in the same injured ribs over and over.

VASSA: “Lauryn is going to be the death of Eli’s ribs on day.”
JOHNSON: “She’s doing a pretty little number on them right now as a matter of fact.”
VASSA: “He just cant seem to catch a break in that area.”
Unable to stand by and watch any further, Genie dips through the ropes, red hot and full of anger.
JOHNSON: “Genie’s had enough!”
VASSA: “Oh shit! This is going to be worse than her social media arguments.”
As Lauryn continues savagely kicking Eli’s ribs, Genie takes off towards her. Closing in, Genie tackles Lauryn to the mat as the crowd screams, eager to see a cat fight. On top of Lauryn, Genie unloads with lefts and rights on Lauryn’s head. Sativa then climbs through the ropes and charges, jumping into the air and flying towards Genie. Crashing into Genie, Sativa slams her down to the mat, landing on top of her as the two then begin rolling across the ring, scratching and clawing at one another.
Bronx then climbs through the ropes, and shortly after, Tara does as well. As Bronx closes in on Eli, Tara is right there to stop him in his tracks with a running drop kick to the chest, sending Bronx stumbling to the ropes. Tara then takes off towards him and lunges forward, but as she does, Bronx ducks down and then flips Tara up and over the top rope. As Tara goes over, she grabs onto Bronx and pulls him over the ropes as well and the two crash down to the floor below.
Still fighting with one another on the mat, Sativa and Genie make their way to the edge of the ring before rolling under the bottom rope and falling down to the floor beside Tara and Bronx.

VASSA: “Holy shit, it’s all turned into chaos!”
JOHNSON: “It lasted longer than I thought it would before this happened.”
VASSA: “The good news is that the two legal people are still in the ring.”
As a huge brawl at ringside breaks out between Bronx, Genie, Tara, and Sativa, both Eli and Lauryn slowly begin climbing to their feet. As they both stand, the two then lunge at one another, both connecting with right hands at the same time. Lauryn then kicks Eli in the ribs and as she does, he retaliates with a right hook.
JOHNSON: “Here comes the knockout punch!”
As Eli’s fist closes in, Lauryn ducks out of the way and as she does, Eli connects with a right hook to the official, laying him out cold.
JOHNSON: “There goes the last bit of order we had in this thing.”
VASSA: “It’s complete madness on the outside and none of them seem to be aware of what’s happened in the ring.”
Eli then shoots in and wraps up both of Lauryn’s legs, taking her down to the mat. He then mounts himself on top of her before unloading with a ground and pound, beating Lauryn senseless from all angles. As he draws back for the final blow, Lauryn then drives her fist into his ribs once more, stopping him from proceeding with the final punch.
Eli falls over to his side, in a world of pain, giving Lauryn the opportunity to get back to her feet. Once standing, Lauryn pulls Eli up from the mat only to get taken by surprise as he drives an elbow into her face. He then steps in beside her before dropping her to the canvas with a Russian leg sweep. Pulling Lauryn back to her feet, Eli then locks onto her head before twisting their bodies and dropping her with a swinging neckbreaker.

VASSA: “While everyone is going at it on the outside, Eli is slowly working on Lauryn in the ring.”
JOHNSON: “It’s complete madness on the outside.”
On the outside of the ring, Sativa and Tara go toe to toe with an exchange of punches while Genie and Bronx are locked up beside the barricade. Slamming Genie against the barricade, Bronx pins her against it, leaving her nowhere to scape as he rains down on her with rapid punches.
Back in the ring, Eli is on his feet, circling Lauryn as she slowly begins pushing herself up. Once up to one knee, Eli then strikes as he closes in with a shining wizard.

JOHNSON: “Annoi–“
Catching Eli’s foot before it makes contact with her head, Lauryn then stands to her feet while holding onto it. She then throws his leg to the side, forcing him to spin the opposite direction. With his back now turned to her, Lauryn steps in and pulls his head back, wrapping her arm over his face and around his head.
VASSA: “Lauryn has him in place for the Fiery Impulse.”
JOHNSON: “Wait a second!”
VASSA: “Is that…”
Hopping over the barricade, a familiar face emerges from the crowd and slides into the ring unnoticed by those brawling on the outside.
JPD then hits Lauryn in the back of the head with a forearm shot, forcing her to release Eli. Dropping to her knee, JPD then gives her another forearm shot to the back of the head, knocking her face first to the mat. He then steps over her body and grabs onto her arms, lifting her upper body into the air before placing his foot onto the back of her head. In the blink of an eye, he then drives her face into the canvas with a curb stomp.
JOHNSON: “Bow to the King!”
VASSA: “holy shit, JPD’s saved the day!”
Rolling Lauryn over to her back, JPD watches over the ring as Eli shakes the official, waking him up. Out of sight, JPD then climbs out of the ring as Eli covers Lauryn for the pin, meanwhile the brawl on the outside of the ring continues.

Taking notice, Bronx spots JPD and takes off after him to the other side of the ring.

Sativa then throws Tara into the ringside steps before sliding into the ring, only to do so too late.

As soon as the bell rings, Eli spins back to his feet and backs up to his own corner where he looks across the ring at Sativa, then down at Lauryn, then back up at Sativa. An arrogant smirk crosses his lips as he shrugs in mock innocence. Out of the corner of his eye he, and the rest of the Royal Family, spot movement at the top of the stage as Mariano Fernandez and Bryan Williams come charging down the ramp seeking to even the odds. Instead of staying and fighting, however, the entire Royal Family dips out into the crowd with Genie, Tara and JPD all heading in one direction while Eli collects his title and a microphone and hops over the barricade heading in a completely different direction. He forces his way through the crowd quickly, finding his way to a staircase that lead up to the lower concourse. Half way up the steps Eli stopped and turned around to find Generation Now in the ring helping Lauryn back to her feet. The expressions on their faces show their clear displeasure as Eli smirks and brings the microphone up to his lips.
E. CARLSON: ”Hey… Hey Powers you worthless piece of crap. Do your job and announce the winner of that match.
Reluctantly, the voice of the announcer reverberates throughout the arena.
POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen… the winner of this match by pinfall… Genevie Carlson, Tara Davidson and El-”
E. CARLSON: ”AH AH AH! What are you forgetting, Mike? And you wonder why I have someone else do this for you normally. For Christ’s sake.”
Powers sighs before speaking again.
POWERS: ”and your reigning 4CW Champion… Elijah Carlson….. THE ROYAL FAMILYYYYYYYY!!!!!
As boo’s reign down upon him, Eli extends his arms outward and basks in the sound as the entirety of Generation Now have grown tired of Eli’s crap and have decided to make their way backstage.
E. CARLSON: ”Did you people really expect anything different? Did you really think you had any hope in that band of misfit toys. It’s not often that you can say something like this but that collection of idiots makes Darin Zion look talented. And you expected them to overcome me? YOUR 4CW Champion?! Get the hell out of here. Did you really think they could beat any of us? The lot of them don’t deserve to be in a 4CW ring, let alone carrying any of the titles that they flaunt. It’s nice of you all to keep JPD and Madison’s titles warm for them, but for real. Nobody buys into you guys. Hell, even Tanner thinks you guys are shit and I’m pretty sure that dude was fed a steady diet of lead based paint chips for years. But hey… hey guys. Let me ask you this one question.”
A sarcastic smirk crosses his lips.
E. CARLSON: ”Have you seen my title? HAHA! Of course you have. You’ve seen it with your own eyes but that’s as close as any of you will ever get to touching it. The only people on this roster worthy of standing in that ring with me carry the last name of Carlson or Davidson. Who else has any business getting in that ring with me? Who else has any business asking for a title shot against me, Elijah Carlson, the damn 4CW Giant Slayer. Maybe that masked retard Dybbuk? Nah. Dude couldn’t even beat Lauryn Wolfe and we all saw what happened to her tonight, right? Pinned in the middle of the ring by yours truly once again. Can’t wait to hear all of the should have, could have and would have’s from her again. It’s getting a bit repetitive don’t you think?
Slowly, Eli begins to back the rest of the way up the steps, ready to end the night with the lasting image of him victorious once again burned into their minds.
E. CARLSON: ”They might as well just put me in the Hall of Fame now because as far as I’m concerned… this championship isn’t leaving my waist until I decide to retire as the longest reigning champion in 4CW. Past, present and futu-”
As he gets to the top of the staircase he backs into the silhouette of a large person. Annoyed, Eli spun in the direction of the man, swinging with his free hand as he spoke.
E. CARLSON: ”Why don’t you watch where you’re go-”
Before Eli’s fist could connect with the man he was drilled by a right hand to his ribs and a left hand to his jaw, spinning him around and sending him stumbling back down the staircase. In pursuit, the man delivers a kick to Eli’s backside, sending him tumbling the rest of the way down the concrete steps until he came to his resting place leaning against the barricade separating the lower bowl from the general admission seats.
Indeed, the large man in pursuit of Eli was Scott Stevens. Charging down the staircase, Stevens lowered his shoulder just as Eli climbed back to his feet and speared him over the top of the barricade, sending both men crashing into a mess of steel chairs. Writhing in pain, Eli groans and rolls to his hands and knees, doing everything he can to crawl away from his assailant. Sadly for him, Stevens is back to his feet well before Eli could get away. He quickly picks up one of the steel chairs and folds it up, waylaying chair shots across Eli’s back until finally Eli made it to the barricade surrounding the ring. Before he could escape over it, though, he made the mistake of turning back to see where Stevens was only to be caught with a chair shot to the dome that busts him wide open.
JOHNSON: ”Enough is enough. Stevens has made his point. Eli’s busted wide open. Someone get the damn medics out here!”
There were no medics to be found just yet as Eli topples over the barricade to the thin mat covering the concrete floor surrounding the ring. As blood pours profusely from a gash in his forehead, drenching his face in his own blood, Stevens climbs over the barricade with ease, dropping the chair. Once more, when Eli manages to stumble back to his feet, Stevens lowers his shoulder. This time he drives Eli back first into the steel ring post before rolling him into the ring. Still not wasting any time, Stevens follows Eli into the ring and drags him back up to his feet. He allows Eli to stand there before pointing at his own waist, signaling that the 4CW Title would soon enough be his, before hitting Eli flush with a TOXIC STING diamond cutter.
Motionless, Eli lays in the ring with blood staining the canvas slowly. Standing over him, Stevens points down at him and once more motions to his waist, declaring his intentions to become the 4CW Champion. With a loud roar, Stevens raises his arms in the air. Some fans in the arena cheer what they’ve just seen but the majority are left in stunned silence, having witnessed perhaps the most brutal attack ever seen on an episode of Adrenaline.
JOHNSON: “What does Scott think he’s doing?!”
VASSA: “He just took out the 4CW Champion, that’s what he’s doing.”
JOHNSON: “This is back to back shows where he’s savagely attacked someone following their match. This isn’t going to sit right with the Royal Family.”
VASSA: “After what he did to Caleb and the confrontation with Lauryn earlier, I doubt any of his other actions sit well with Generation Now.”
JOHNSON: “We needs answers! But it looks like we’re going to have to wait until the next show before we get them.”
VASSA: “Is it that time already?”
JOHNSON: “It is! We’re out of time and just like always, that’s when the good stuff seems to go down.”
VASSA: “This whole night has been full of twists and turns. What are you talking about?!”
JOHNSON: “MADNESS! Complete and uncontrollable madness! That’s our show for tonight folks. Be sure to tune in two weeks from now as we head to the Dunkin Donuts Center in Providence, Rhode Island.”
VASSA: “What the hell is in Rhode Island?”
JOHNSON: “Adrenaline Sixty! That’s what! From everyone here at 4CW, we wish you all a Happy New Year. Signing off, I’m Steve Johnson…”
VASSA: “And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good Night folks!”