WINTER WASTELAND III (091)


WINTER WASTELAND DECEMBER 28TH, 2016
METRO RADIO ARENA NEWCASTLE, ENGLAND

“Trapped Under Ice” by Metallica blares over the Metro Radio Arena as the picture opens to a shot overhead. With this being the first time 4CW has held an event outside of the United States, the Newcastle crowd is packed as far as the eye can see to welcome 4CW to England. Tonight is a historic event for 4CW as we travel into international territory for third anniversary event, Winter Wasteland. In the crowd, mass amounts of signs can be seen mixed within the crowd, some more appealing to the eyes than others.

WELCOME TO ENGLAND

INDUCT ME INTO
THE HALL OF FAME

WORTH
THE
WAIT

GENERATION NOW

HOME OF THE REAL

ROYAL FAMILY

#GASH

Down at the announcers booth, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa sit side by side, dressed for the special occasion. Johnson is wearing a simple suit, black in color, while Vassa sports a tuxedo.

JOHNSON: “Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to 4CW’s three year anniversary event, Winter Wasteland! I’m your host, Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: “And I’m the one you tuned in to listen to, Vinny Vassa! What’s up everyone?!”

JOHNSON: “After three long years, 4CW has finally crossed international boundaries as tonight’s event is broadcasted live from Newcastle, England!”

VASSA: “We have a jam packed crowd tonight here in the Metro Radio Arena. I was expecting a big crowd but I wasn’t expecting a sold out arena in our first international affair.”

JOHNSON: “Well, we do have some big things planned for the evening. Every 4CW singles championship is on the line and we will also have the first ever 4CW Hall of Fame ceremony.”

VASSA: “This is something I have been looking forward to ever since it was hinted at. I can’t wait to see who gets inducted.”

JOHNSON: “We’ll get to that later in the evening, but first we’ll open things up with the Fate Championship match as Tara Davidson will defend against Caleb Houston.”

VASSA: “I was surprised how this challenger was decided via social media. 4CW has never done anything like that before.”

JOHNSON: “It got positive reviews from everyone from what I’ve heard. There was a series of polls for the fans to decide who would challenge Tara at Winter Wasteland. After winning a few rounds, Caleb Houstin is the lucky one to challenge for the Fate Championship tonight.”

VASSA: “After that, we have two non-title matches that very well could steal the show.”

JOHNSON: “Mike Best has made his presence felt in 4CW and tonight we’ll see him in action for the first time in a 4CW ring as he takes on a long time rival, Max Kael.”

VASSA: “These two have quite a bit of history from HOW. 4CW is an entirely new atmosphere for both of them. I’m interested to see how they adapt.”

JOHNSON: “After that, we have another showdown between rivals from another promotion that carried over to 4CW.”

VASSA: “Matthias Barrows and Mariano Fernandez will square off tonight after a little confrontation at the end of Adrenaline fifty-seven.”

JOHNSON: “The match they were in was done. That just didn’t sit right with Matthias as he decided to hit Mariano with the Pride Championship.”

VASSA: “Tonight they get to settle the score and see who is the better man.”

JOHNSON: “I’m really looking forward to this one.”

VASSA: “You know what I’m looking forward to? This XTV Championship match between Johnny Evil and the defending champion, Sativa Nevaeh.”

JOHNSON: “This isn’t your normal XTV no holds barred match either! This is a 4CW Prison Escape Match where the winner has to escape two cages, one within the other.”

VASSA: “Not only is the XTV Championship on the line, but the custody papers for Johnny Evil’s daughter are on the line.”

JOHNSON: “The stakes are high in this match up. I just want worry about the child at stake.”

VASSA: “These two are fighting over a kid. I don’t think this has ever been done before? At least not in 4CW.”

JOHNSON: “To be honest, it should never be done. Not only will they fight for the child and the XTV Championship, but Johnny Evil is also fighting for his freedom.”

VASSA: “He’s been locked up for quite a while with only being able to wrestle in 4CW under special conditions.”

JOHNSON: “There isn’t another match on the card with this much on the line.”

VASSA: “And that’s not even the main event–or the headline!”

JOHNSON: “In our headline match, we have a fourway for the Pride Championship.”

VASSA: “No stipulation was announced for this match when the card was released. But a few nights ago, the stipulation was revealed on social media.”

JOHNSON: “This match stipulation is being referred to as the ultimate test of endurance as four people will meet in the ring at the same time and compete in an elimination match where the only way to eliminate someone is to make them submit.”

VASSA: “This is going to take its toll on everyone’s body that’s involved.”

JOHNSON: “Bryan Williams will defend the Pride Championship against Genevie Carlson, Persephone Marquis, and his rival as of late, Jason Cashe.”

JOHNSON: Can Williams finish the night still as the Champi–“

“Jingle Bells” plays as Green and Red lights flash around the arena. With Christmas just passing, the spirit of the Holidays were still felt.

VASSA: “Baaah Humbug!”

JOHNSON: “What’s wrong Vassa? Didn’t get what you wanted from Santa this year?”

VASSA: “Hell no and I’m mad!”

JOHNSON: “What did you want?”

VASSA: “A bitch with a fat ass to do some thangs for some change! Fucks and Sucks for Bucks! I waited at the Chimney with care. Had cookies AND one percent milk cause me and Santa on the same diet.”

JOHNSON: “Wow, just wow…”

Bells ringing and the music continues to play as a voice breaks through it all.

“Ho! Ho! Ho! MERRRRY CHRISTMAS!!”

The arena erupts like it was filled with children as “Santa Clause” comes out from the back. He wasn’t Jolly but rather on the small/medium size in both height and weight. The suit was more of a simple red and white coat and some cozy red pants. Boots seemed more like a traditional pair of black wrestling boots. None the less the fans were excited!

VASSA: “I KNEW he wouldn’t forget about me! Where she at Santa!?”

JOHNSON: “I don’t think that’s the real Santa..”

VASSA: “You shut your mouth! It IS the real Santa, you watch!”

JOHNSON: “Poor guy. You do know Santa isn…”

Vassa slams his fist onto the booth as “Santa” walks down the aisle. He has a big bag over his shoulder no doubt filled with presents. Rounding the ring, Santa climbs the steel stairs and enters through the ropes. Mike Powers reaches up to hand Santa a microphone. The live audience settles down as the cameras get in closer showing it truly wasn’t Santa underneath the costume but another familiar name. “HELLO MOTHERFUCKERS! You’ve ALL been Naughty! Santa isn’t real and this suit is fucking itchy!” Dropping his bag of gifts, Santa pulls off the hat to reveal himself as Jason Cashe. The arena gets loud! Some cheers but more boos at the potential of gift giving was lost.

VASSA: “Awww….”

JOHNSON: “Told you! Even so, Christmas is over so why would Santa come here? 4CW is about as naughty as they come in this business.”

VASSA: “Not true! We don’t have owners winning titles or sexually harassing the female workers. Ohh Oh! We don’t have Randy Fields on the roster! We should feel blessed..”

Pulling the Santa coat off, Cashe had nothing else underneath it. Standing in the ring in no shirt with some red Santa pants. Putting the mic back to his mouth he turned up the heat.

CASHE: “I argued with myself knowing I was going to come out here tonight. To interrupt the lengthy conversation that USUALLY opens the shows around here. I just couldn’t decide the plan entirely. Part of me wanted to dress up like a King and be carried out here on a Throne. To pick at the silly Fantasy World that too many of us are living in on this roster right now. You’ve got Royalty and now this Generation crap and really people… It’s starting to get annoying!”

The round of applause wasn’t loud but those who weren’t clapping were listening. Cashe glances towards the entrance where he directs his words.

CASHE: “Now I could go back into the history of this business and give you a whole LIST of groups that have been put together only to fizzle out a month or so down the road. Why bother? These fans have witnessed that very thing even in 4CW. Be it Omerta, Unstable, The House Of HOWE anyone?”

Now people were cheering. Every name mentioned had it’s time in the spotlight. Cashe having been a member of two.

CASHE: “But somehow these new groups are different right? When I joined Unstable I heard all the noise. How it didn’t make sense, didn’t have a purpose as a whole. The concept was never what it was suppose to be and I’m looking at the current landscape and I’m seeing those questions now. Where does the trend of simply repeating yourself come to an end? Is this a sign of judgement day? When everything has gone as far as we as people can take it without making everything a repeat. Is there nothing original today? Nothing unique. Royals? Four members split into two groups with their own agendas. Ehh”

Shrugging big Cashe seems to not be impressed and hasn’t been quiet about it much since they first aligned as the Royal Family.

CASHE: “Eli is on a short leashed rise and good for him but we’ll see how he takes the fall when his head crashes against the ceiling. His wife? She has a skill set a Pornstar in her forties has. Loose lips and arthritis forming due to the constant hand jobs when her jaw locks up. JPD? Who’s that again? He’s turned into fucking Waldo around these parts hasn’t he? Tara? She’s remembered… NOT… I forgot she even HAD a Title! The Royal Family is becoming a Royal Flush and this isn’t a game of cards so the flush will be done in the swirl of a toilet. Give it time.”

Letting go some, he was glad to be out here. Glad to be in front of the crowd before the PPV actually started. He wouldn’t be in the Opener so he had to come out and be apart of it somehow.

CASHE: “Now we have a Generation of NOW! Like any of them are NEW to 4CW other than Manny? What’s the point to this? Where do any of you GAIN from being aligned with anyone in this new group? Again four people, SHOCKER! But where are any of you “NOW”? Manny is rising, Wolfie is grasping at Caleb’s dick and his ass is a few shows away from going MIA again. She’s the fourth most important Soap Opera in 4CW but hey! She USED to have the approval from one Marqueef… That counts for something I suppose.

Oh heh heh! Then you’ve got Sativa?! Did Sativa and Williams both sit down, realize that the people they gave their trust too didn’t give it back the same. So HEY let’s align together right? No wonder Sativa beat me with Williams as Special Referee! Boy gee golly as my beautiful and deranged Fiance would say. The last group Ganja was in got shit canned in part because little miss Lady Bawse thinks far more highly of herself than she does about anyone else other than Ramona maybe and that was at one time. Hell her own husband, boyfriend, is got locked up so he could get away from her but yet this alliance is going to work? Why? In what capacity? I don’t get it… Does anyone?”

Holding the mic out to hear a fan’s response he got nothing but cheers and some boos. A mixed reaction for what still isn’t fully understood about this new Faction.

CASHE: “That’s what I figured. You go out and find this fantasy draft of players and that’s being nice about it. Manny is new and stuck in a video game, not sure WHERE he’ll help anything in the real world. It seems like you people think that together you’re untouchable. Hell Ganja even went as far as to once say she could have bought 4CW out from under Perry Wallace! Talk about credibility! And let’s be serious.. Williams you were a fucking Power Ranger in Boardwalk! WHAT reputation in Factions can you even begin to have? Then again you also aligned with Riddle and Psyche and thought of yourself as a villain. That gave me a good chuckle, GAWD I miss Boredwalk…”

His pace started as he picked up in rant. He was full of energy and wanted desperately to have his match right here and now but knew he’d have to wait his turn. Wait to scratch his itch so he continued.

CASHE: “You know it wouldn’t be that hard… I too could go on Twitter, throw a rock backstage and find three people to align with me. Make some super group or attempt at one. But really what’s the point? I know what it’s like being apart of something but in either case for the groups in 4CW what is it really you’re apart of? You have no purpose, no point to you alliance and as with ALL empty foundations you will bleed out and die. My cousin said it best, everything things die. What could have been if I had heard that message sooner.”

Almost as if he forgot he notices the bag he brought with him. Reaching down he dumps out the contents. It was shredded paper that scatters everywhere as it all empties from the bag.

CASHE: “This is my contract with 4CW… I’ve only ever been signed to 4CW for 3-4 months at a time. That’s the way it has been during it’s rise from the start. A few months but now? Now my contract ends and it ends on January 3rd of the New Year.”

There were actually a few in attendance who booed at the idea of Cashe no longer being around. Not that this was the first time he’d talked about leaving. Something was different this time. He was doing it in the ring, in front of the people watching both at home and live in person.

CASHE: “Looking at this company I see little to be happy about. I see talent filling the roster but most of them waddle along like zombies. Wanting the same thing, moving the same way towards their one desire. Spotlight. You want to do big things like align with plenty thinking the spotlight will shine down brighter but it won’t. I carried Unstable and gave them a spotlight I created. A buzz reborn off of MY work and since then I’ve slowly started to hate this business. Hate the people I work with, the fans who sit in the crowds at these shows…”

Echoing sounds of Boo come from all around him. He wasn’t bothered by it but took the moment to turn in a full circle to see them move and war cry out their displeasure from his comments.

CASHE: “My contract will end and I’m not out here to make threats. To say if I become Pride Champion I’ll walk. I’m not Madison. No I don’t want to walk regardless of what is said, I love my HOME and 4CW is Home. I’m sorry so many people want to come into MY Home and think they can just kick up their feet but these new groups? These new alliances? They are like Bed Bugs. Like Scabies and I’m wanting too, willing too, NEED too remove them from the FOUR Corners of this Company. I don’t need allies to do so and I will dive at the odds stacked against me. I’m not afraid to lose but THEY should be afraid that I might win. When I win? They get hurt… It’s about to get REAL “Red Wedding” around these parts. My boy Evil said Warzone? Trust it’s about to be…”

Holding the mic up above his head he just lets it drop. A “Mic Drop” moment or so he thought it was. Leaving the ring the fans give him his usual mixture of reaction as the new factions and faces in 4CW have just been put on warning.

VASSA: “Yeah this is better than Santa… Is Cashe really about to go to war with Royal Family AND Generation Now?”

JOHNSON: “This could very well get ugly and fast!”

VASSA: “It’s Cashe! This shit BEEN ugly!”

JOHNSON: “Although true, he just called out two separate groups within 4CW. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he doesn’t have the support of Unstable backing him anymore.”

VASSA: “Fuck Unstable! There I said it! Cashe carried Unstable from the second it was introduced in 4CW and he killed it the second he decided to step away from it.”

JOHNSON: “I’m just saying it isn’t smart to call our two groups consisting of four people each when there’s no one standing in your corner.”

VASSA: “He could assemble some folks to back him up. I hear Tommy Knox isn’t doing anything.”

JOHNSON: “It’s going to take a lot more than him. And he isn’t even signed with 4CW, probably never will be.”

VASSA: “The numbers don’t matter. I’ve seen Cashe when he has a target on someone’s head. He’ll attack from the shadows and take them out one by one if he has to.”

JOHNSON: “He better do something because the odds are now against him with groups coming at him from both sides.”

VASSA: “Enough with this nonsense! Don’t we have a show to get on with?”

JOHNSON: “We do, Vinny. We have an entire show ahead of us.”

VASSA: “Then let’s get on with it! 4CW didn’t reach three years by listening to us talk on and on at the start of every show.”

JOHNSON: “You heard the man folks. We’re going to go backstage momentarily before coming back to our opening match for the 4CW Fate Championship.”

The big screen lights up with static that slowly fades into a familiar image. Leaping into the air, Jair does a backflip and comes down with a springboard moonsault double foot stomp onto Dakota’s chest.

JOHNSON: “OMFG!!!”

VASSA: “OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!”

The crowd erupts as Jair executes the OMFG!. Stepping down from Dakota’s body, Jair then drops down to both knees and makes the cover, hooking the leg as the official races over with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: “JAIR WINS IT!!!”

JOHNSON: “We have a new 4CW Champion ladies and gentlemen!”

Slowly the scene morphs into a less familiar one. The footage brought back from the final months of Uprising’s existence under the 4CW branding. It’s a flashback to the Primetime Championship match between Aamon and Eli Carlson. With Aamon down, Eli climbs up to the turnbuckle facing out to the crowd, signals, then impressively flips off the turnbuckle with a Phoenix Splash!

FUCHS: “Absolutely stunning!”

DAVIS: “That one Eli calls Ascension!”

Eli hooks Aamon’s leg!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

FUCHS: “Very impressive display by Elijah Carlson!”

DAVIS: “And we have a new champion.”

McCabe: “Here is your winner and NEW Primetime Champion…. ELIJAHHHHH CARLSOOOOOONNN!!!”

A shot of Eli being handed the Primetime Championship and raising it above his head quickly fades into another camera shot, this time at Fright Night, showing the events that happened between Dakota and Jair once more. Hopkins deliver a back elbow, catching Dakota in the face. He followed with a few forearms of his own as he cracked Dakota over the head. Hopkins looked around as he walked over and grabbed up a steel chair that was by itself. Folding it up as he made it back over to Dakota, he wasted no time delivering hard whacks across the back of Dakota as he leaned over from the shots. Hopkins delivered one shot right across the head of Dakota as that seemed to put him in a even more weakened state. Hopkins dropped the chair as he shoved Dakota over and into the casket. Hopkins gave him the middle finger before slamming down the top of the casket.

HOPKINS: “Get comfy bitch, that’s your final resting place!”

The security comes rushing in on Hopkins, telling him to stop being it seemed as he was done. Hopkins had put his hands up, as if he was truly done. He walked on off, walking around the corner no longer seen. A minute had passed and Hopkins returned … with a red gas can in his hand as he poured all the contents inside the can over the casket, causing the security staff to back up as they wanted no gasoline on them. Hopkins reached into his pockets before pulling out a zippo lighter. Flicking the switch, he threw it right on the casket as it quickly ignited into a flaming casket. A sickening smile came over onto Hopkins face as he watched it go ablaze.

HOPKINS: “R.I.P!”

Hopkins walked on off as the guards had no choice but to stand afar and look baffled. There was no extinguisher nearby for them to quickly distinguish the fire. Hopkins had thrown the can to the side before walking off as cameras had to abruptly cut to a scene later in the evening during the Warzone of Horrors match. Reaching up, Eli comes just short of reaching the contract dangling above his head. Genie then cheers for him from below with Lauryn unconscious at her feet. Taking a step up, Eli stretches as far as he can, clasping the contract between two fingers and ripping it from the hook holding it above the ladder.

JOHNSON: “He’s got it! He’s got the contract!”

VASSA: “Holy shit folks Eli will challenge Jair at Winter Wasteland!”

Pulling the contract against his body, Eli then tips over the side of the ladder, falling down to the top of the cage. Quickly racing over to Eli, Genie squats beside him and pulls his body up, holding him tightly against hers.

JOHNSON: “This has been one crazy match ladies and gentlemen but we’ve finally crowned a winner.”

“8-Ball” then hits the speakers as the entire arena erupts at the conclusion of the match.

VASSA: “There’s your number one contender ladies and gentlemen.”

JOHNSON: “In two months at Winter Wasteland Eli will step in the ring with Jair, who ended his previous challenger here tonight.”

On the screen the scene quickly spirals to rapid fire shots of clashes between Jair and Eli over the past two months. It shows Eli and the Royal Family one upping Jair Hopkins and Adrian Tanner Jr and then twists into the showdown between Cashe and Hopkins against Williams and Eli and the breakdown after the match with Jair and Eli brawling in the backstage area. Finally, the montage concludes with a shot of Jair and Eli staring each other down in the center of the ring during their contract signing three weeks earlier.

JAIR HOPKINS

ELIJAH CARLSON

FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE!

LIVE FROM THE METRO RADIO ARENA

ONLY ON PAY PER VIEW!

OPENING MATCH
FATE CHAMPIONSHIP
CALEB HOUSTON VS. TARA DAVIDSON ©

VASSA: ”Ladies and gentlemen we’ve got one hell of a contest scheduled for you to kick things off tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”Tara Davidson defends her title against Caleb Houston. You’ll remember that Caleb won a fan vote earlier this month and, I have to say, I don’t think it bought him any friends backstage as a lot of other people felt they were far more deserving of a shot than he was.”

POWERS: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall and is for the 4CW Fate Championship..

‘The Failsafe’ by Misery Signals hits the PA system. The lights in the arena slowly dim down. As the beat picks up Caleb steps through the curtains. Wearing a black hoodie, and a pair of black and gold fight shorts. His head is bowed and focused on the ring in front of him. His arms are hanging down to his sides his hands shaking as he slowly makes his way down to the ring. His stare breaking.

POWERS: “Introducing first, the challenger, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, weighing in at two hundred seventeen pounds and standing six feet, one inch tall… CALEB HHOOUUSSTTOONN!!!”

As he makes the turn at the bottom of the ramp he removes the hood from his head and slowly unzips the sweat shirt. Tossing it out into the crowd before climbing up the steps. Walking to the center of the apron he grabs the top rope and springs himself into the ring. Once he is in the ring the lights slowly being to turn up. His head is still slightly bent his eyes focused on the crowd as he makes his way around the ring testing the ropes. Making his way to the corner he crouches down and places his right hand on the mat awaiting the beginning of the match.

VASSA: ”We’ve seen good things out of Caleb in his most recent tenure with the company.”

JOHNSON: ”I think you’ll find a lot of people perform better when they’re not under the autistic authority of Paul Knight.”

VASSA: ”Fair enough. There’s plenty of former Uprising members on this roster to back that statement up.”

JOHNSON: ”We shall see if Caleb can continue that success tonight against the reigning Fate Champion. He has his work cut out for him and that might be the understatement of the century.”

“Blood, blood, blood

Pump mud through my veins

Shut your dirty, dirty mouth

I’m not that easy”

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

POWERS: “And now.. Hailing from Miami, Florida, weighing in at one hundred twenty pounds and standing five feet, four inches tall… the reigning 4CW Fate Champion… ‘The Red Queen’… TARA DDAAVVIIDDSSOONN!!!”

“Blood, blood, blood

Pump mud through my veins

I’m a dirty, dirty girl

I want it filthy”

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

VASSA: ”Big opportunity for Caleb here tonight. He was a bit quiet leading up to Winter Wasteland. I just hope it was because he was busy preparing for this match.”

JOHNSON: ”Make no mistake about it, Tara Davidson is certainly a challenge on any given Wednesday and tonight it only becomes bigger when you consider the roll that she’s been on lately.”

VASSA: ”Indeed, since coming up short in the Warzone at Fright Night Tara has made her impact felt, claiming a tag team victory with Genevie over Lauryn Wolfe and Persephone Marquis, and then becoming Fate Champion by defeating both Lauryn and Persephone in a triple threat match.”

JOHNSON: ”While much of the focus is often on the other members of the Royal Family, it could easily be argued that Tara is by far the most talented and successful of the group.”

The anticipation for the entire evening, and for the Fate Championship showdown about to occur, is palpable as the referee checks Caleb and Tara for any hidden objects they may have stored away in their boots or tights. Content that there was nothing to be found, Logan Whitby proceeds to take the Fate Championship from Tara and move to the center of the ring, raising it high above his head for everyone to see before moving and handing it between the middle and bottom ropes to the timekeeper for safe keeping until the end of the match. Whitby then checks with both competitors to make sure they’re ready before signalling for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Tara is quick to move to the center of the ring but Caleb shows off some speed, narrowly avoiding a single leg takedown attempt from the red queen. She twists and spins back up to her feet, expecting Caleb to have followed up with a quick counter strike but instead he just smiles at her and bounces back and forth on his feet in the opposite corner to the one he began the match in. With narrowed eyes, Tara runs a hand through her long blonde locks of hair and then moves toward the middle of the ring once more. Caleb follows suit and the two tie each other up. Having the size advantage, Caleb muscles Tara back into the corner and applies pressure, trying to sap some of the energy from her. In response, Tara stomps on his left foot and then catches him with a sharp forearm, knocking him back off of her.

As Caleb touches his jaw with his right hand, Tara fires out of the corner, ducking under a left hand from Caleb as she wraps her arms around his waist and swoops around behind him. In one flawless motion she shows off her power, lifting and tossing him over her head with a belly to back suplex. From the mat, Tara quickly kips up and shouts at the crowd, who respond with a chorus of boo’s. Caleb isn’t delayed long in getting back to his feet and once more moves to meet Tara in the middle of the ring. She tries to connect with a forearm shot but Caleb maneuvers out of the way of it and responds with a vicious snap kick to the knee of the Fate Champion, dropping her down to a kneeling position. He’s quick to wrap his arms around the head of the red queen, tying her up in a clinch. Knee after knee connects as the crowd roars and counts with Caleb as each knee finds it’s mark all the way up to ten. Upon the tenth blow, Caleb releases Tara from the clinch and allows her to drop to the mat and roll over onto her side in pain much to the delight of the crowd.

VASSA: ”That’s a good start for Caleb. He’s going to need to keep up that kind of attack if he has any hope of winning.”

JOHNSON: ”Exactly, Vinny. He needs to play his game. He’s a reactionary striker who needs to take advantage of the mistakes Tara makes.”

VASSA: ”The problem is that she doesn’t make very many mistakes.”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed she doesn’t. She’s one of the most technically precise competitors on the roster. Certainly the most technically precise of the females who typically seem to be a bit more adept as brawlers.”

Caleb pulls Tara back to her feet by her hair and then whips her into the ropes. Instead of rebounding toward him, Tara holds onto the top rope and halts her momentum. Houston, seeing this, charges at Tara looking to clothesline her over the top rope but instead she drops to the mat and pulls the top rope down, sending Caleb over the top rope and tumbling down to the ground outside the ring. For a moment the Fate champion catches her breath before moving to the near corner where she ascends to the top rope. Once there she takes a moment to balance herself and then leaps just as Caleb gets back to his feet and turns in her direction. There’s no time for him to get out of the way and he takes the diving cross body flush. Both competitors slam to the ground roughly, with Caleb taking the worst of the damage but with Tara having done harm to herself as well. Inside the ring, Whitby gives both Caleb and Tara a moment to recover and get back to their feet. When neither does, he begins to count.

“One!”

Tara and Caleb both continue to lie, writhing in pain and paying little attention to the count being made by the referee. The fans, on the other hand, are enjoying what they’re watching but their anxiousness can be felt already. They know that if the match ends in a double count out that Tara will retain her title and there isn’t a person in the arena that wants to see The Red Queen continue her reign.

“Two!”

Finally, some movement begins as Whitby is giving the two competitors all the time he possibly can between each number. The reality of the situation is that in the two seconds that have been “counted” nearly a full minute has passed by. Caleb has managed to roll himself back to his hands and knees, and has one hand gripped tightly on the top of the security barrier. Tara, on the other hand, has rolled her way over to ringside where she has a fistful of ring apron in her grasp.

“Three!”

The expressions on the faces of both Tara and Caleb show just how much it hurts to pull themselves back up but both manage to do so at about the same time. Tara, resting against the ring and Caleb resting against the security barrier. Houston moves towards Tara first and looks to tie her up in the clinch again but she’s quick to counter with a boot to the stomach. After taking a deep breath and cringing in pain, Tara grabs Caleb by the back of his head and drives him face first into the steel ringpost, dropping him to the ground.

“Four!”

Spotting cables that are laid out nearby the timekeepers table, Tara grabs hold of one of them and then moves to Caleb, stomping down on his back to flatten him out before straddling his back and wrapping the cables tightly around his throat, cutting off his supply of air. As she wrenches back tightly on the cables, the referee shouts at her to let him go. Refusing to adhere to his orders, Tara simply hisses at the man and pulls even tighter on the cables. Whitby screams one final warning at her, that if she doesn’t release him he’ll disqualify her and finally Tara relents just as Calebs face was changing from a shade of bright red to a blueish hue.

“Five!”

In full control outside of the ring, Tara takes her time to play to the crowd who showers her with hatred and vitriol. A nearby fan can even be heard telling Tara that he hopes Jett Wilder sprays his oh god juice all over her face. Disgusting as that notion is, Tara ignores it and basks in what she perceives to be certain victory that she’s closing in upon.

“Six!”

Caleb uses Tara’s overconfidence to his advantage and begins to crawl away from her while she’s not paying attention. Once he has enough distance between them he uses the ring apron to pull himself back up to his feet just as Tara notices her opponent has gotten away from him. Annoyed at the fact that Caleb isn’t playing his part like she believes he should, Tara again begins to hunt her opponent down. Trying to keep distance between Tara and himself while he regains his bearings, Caleb moves turns the corner and heaves a deep breath of air into his lungs, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs.

“Seven!”

Tara turns the corner at a brisk pace and kicks it into high gear with Caleb in her sights. He manages to duck under her attempted clothesline, however, and with a helping shove sends Tara tumbling awkwardly into the steel ring steps. Upon impact, and the loud clang that echoed throughout the arena, the crowd “oooooo’s” in approval and then their appreciation turns to an all out roar as Caleb takes off in the direction of his opponents downed body. Leaping into the air, Caleb plants both of his feet against the side of Tara’s head, sandwiching her face between his boots and the steel ring steps. The effect is immediate as Tara immediately lets out a blood curdling howl of pain and grabs at her head, as though her hands could chase away the sudden, severe pain.

“Eight!”

Caleb pops up in a fury, pumping his arms in the air as the crowd goes crazy. He lets out an animalistic roar and turns his attention back to the Fate champion where he proceeds to unload on her with a flurry of kicks. Once more Caleb pulls Tara back to her feet by her hair, this time lifting her up into the air and dropping her torso first against the cold steel of the steps. With a thud as her body makes impact, Tara collapses to the mat while Caleb smirks at her. A few moments earlier Tara had been so certain of her victory and just like that the momentum had swung on a dime.

“Nine!”

The referee’s voice finally catches his ear and, instinctively, Caleb starts to slide back into the ring to beat the count. The crowd howls in agony, knowing that a count out victory over Tara would mean that Caleb would get the win but the title would stay with Tara and the Royal Family. Recognizing the problem, Caleb grabs Tara and rolls her back into the ring before sliding in himself a half second before Logan Whitby was about to count the final ten.

VASSA: ”Unbelievable action outside the ring. I don’t know how either of these two are standing after what they’ve put each other through.”

JOHNSON: ”Can we address these ten counts, too? Jesus Christ I think ten minutes just passed in the time it took the referee to almost get to ten.”

VASSA: ”Ahhh Christ Steve, let ‘em fight. Listen to this crowd! This is exactly what we needed to kick off Winter Wasteland. An absolute war.”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed.”

Crawling away from Caleb, Tara draws near to referee Logan Whitby and grabs him by the waist of his pants. With both hands grasping the waistline of the referee’s pants, Tara tries to pull herself up but instead ends up pulling the referee’s pants down to reveal tight underoo’s with Jason Cashe’s face printed on them. Horrified, Whitby loses his focus and rolls out of the ring, trying to conceal himself. In the meantime Tara rolls herself over onto her knees and holds both hands up in the air, begging Caleb for mercy. Of course, there’s no mercy to be had as Houston draws near to her and in his mind begins plotting the end of the match.

Before he can execute the plan in his head, however, his world is suddenly turned upside down with indescribable pain as a vicious uppercut to the family jewels crosses Calebs eyes and drops him to the mat. With Caleb on his knees, Tara pushes herself back up to her feet and dashes across the ring, levelling Caleb with a shining wizard kick. She’s quick to cover Caleb after but almost instantly realizes that Whitby is still outside the ring fumbling with his pants, beat red with embarrassment. Infuriated, Tara slams her hands down on the mat and shouts at Logan Whitby to hurry up. Finally, with his wardrobe malfunction situation settled, Whitby slides back into the ring and begins to count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

VASSA: ”Why?! Why does the most ridiculous stuff always happen during Tara’s matches?”

JOHNSON: ”I’m not sure but she certainly does seem to have a penchant for the unusual.”

VASSA: ”First she gets her ass eaten and then gets pee’d on by Marquis, and now this?!.”

JOHNSON: ”I think the bigger scandal is that Logan Whitby is wearing Jason Cashe underoos.”

Furious with Whitby, Tara begins screaming at the man while Caleb again tries to recover and regain his bearings. Slowly he pulls himself back up to his feet and, seeing Tara in a heated discussion with the referee, charges at her. In the blink of an eye, Tara shoves Whitby out of the way and turns, catching Caleb in the stomach with a kick and then THE FACE LIFT! FACEBUSTER! The champion rolls her challenger over onto his back and hooks his leg. No distractions this time, Whitby slides in and counts.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–KICKOUT!!!

As Caleb kicks out, Tara stares back and forth between him and the referee in disbelief. Three times she slaps her hand, screaming at the referee that he counted too slow. Again, despite the damage that has been inflicted upon him, Caleb slowly begins getting back to his feet. Turning her attention from the referee to Caleb, Tara mocks him as he fights back to a standing position. In retaliation, Caleb catches Tara across the mouth with a quick back hand that snaps her head to the left. That would seem to be a mistake as Tara’s eyes light up with rage, perhaps a reminder of times she had been hit in the past for not making a sandwich properly or for forgetting to do the dishes like a good housewife should do.

Retaliating, Tara catches Caleb in the stomach with a stiff boot and then turns and runs, bouncing off the ropes and coming back. Once close enough, she leaps into the air. THE GOODNIGHT KISS! Wickedly, the right boot of Tara Davidson comes down across the back of Caleb Houstons head. If you had been looking him in the eyes at the point of impact you’d be able to see the lights go out immediately. If it was a UFC fight, at that very moment, the referee would have swooped in and broken things up. Instead, Caleb’s body just collapsed to the mat where Tara stared at her fallen opponent with a scowl. It would have been easy for her to simply roll Caleb over and pin him right then and there but she wasn’t done.

Instead, Tara runs towards the ropes in front of Caleb and bounces off of them. On the rebound she reaches down and grabs Caleb by the chin with both hands. Showing off her athleticism, Tara flips over Caleb’s back and bridges, locking in a bridging reverse chin lock. Angrily she screams for him to tap out but the kick from a moment earlier had already knocked him silly. Referee Logan Whitby swoops in and checks on Caleb to see if he wants to give up. When he gets no response, Whitby takes Calebs arm and lifts it into the air. When he releases it it falls back down limply. Having no choice, Whitby counts.

“One!”

Whitby, a second time, lifts Caleb’s arm up and drops it. Much like the first time, Caleb gives no resistance and his arm falls down limp. Whitby counts the second time.

“Two!”

As Whitby raises Calebs arm a third time, Tara wrenches the lock in even tighter. As Whitby releases Caleb’s arm the third time the crowd watches on, hoping against all hope that he’ll fight back. Alas, it’s not to be. Caleb’s arm falls down a third time and immediately Whitby signals for the bell.

“Three!”

Tara, however, is having none of that. She continues to wrench the lock, seemingly unsatisfied unless she can tear Caleb’s head from his shoulders, until Whitby steps in and finally pulls her fingers apart, breaking the hold and allowing Caleb’s unconscious body to fall completely back down to the mat.

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

VASSA: ”Well it was a close fight for a while but at the end Tara Davidson kicked it into another gear.”

JOHNSON: ”Jesus Christ what a vicious side to a normally rather calm and collected young woman.”

VASSA: ”I bet Caleb won’t ever backhand another woman like that. He’s lucky it wasn’t Lauryn or he’d have had me to answer to.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m sure he’s really concerned about that right now, Vinny.”

Finally back on her feet, Tara raises her arms in celebration, a smile crossing her lips and filling her expression as Logan Whitby presents her with the Fate Title and then raises her arm back in the air, declaring her the winner.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner… by TKO….. and STILL THE 4CW FATE CHAMPION! ‘THE RED QUEEN’… TARA DDAAVVIIDDSSOONN!!!”

VASSA: ”Tara Davidson has proven herself to be a deserving champion.”

JOHNSON: ”Can’t even just say it’s a women’s division anymore after she conquered Caleb Houston in the middle of a 4CW ring..”

VASSA: ”This was one hell of a way to start the night off and we’ve got so much more action still to come.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s right, folks. We’re still going to see Matthias Barrows take on the one and only troll guy, Mariano Fernandez.”

VASSA: ”Don’t forget we’ve got HOW Hall of Famer Mike Best taking on long time rival Max Kael in what is certain to be a battle for the ages.”

JOHNSON: ”Don’t forget about our title matches either. I’m interested to see what exactly this Prison Break stipulation for the XTV title is all about.”

VASSA: ”It’s going to be violent that’s for sure. Personally, I’m looking forward to seeing Marquis, Cashe, Williams and Genevie all in the ring and all vying for the Pride Championship. There’s so much history between those four, what could possibly go wrong?”

JOHNSON: ”Without a doubt, Vinny, but I think we’re all looking forward to the conclusion of this first chapter of Hopkins and Carlson. Who will walk out of Winter Wasteland as the 4CW Champion? Find out the answer to these questions and many more as we continue throughout the night here at the Metro Radio Arena in Newcastle.”

As Tara continues to celebrate her victory everyone’s favorite Texan, Scott Stevens makes his way onto the stage from the backstage area and stops atop of the ramp looking towards the ring.

VASSA: “What is Stevens doing out here?!?!?!?”

JOHNSON: “Your guess is as good as mine Vinny.”

As Tara exits the ring and makes her way up the ramp she notices Stevens standing there.

VASSA: “This is going to be interesting.”

The Red Queen cautiously makes her way to the top to where Stevens is standing and stands face to face with him.

JOHNSON: “We could have a fight on our hands folks!”

VASSA: “My money’s on Tara!”

Tara tightens her grip on her Fate championship with her left hand and balls up her right as she mouths “Move!” to Stevens. Stevens simply smirks as he casually steps aside to let Tara pass by. The two continue to stare down one another as Tara passes by and Stevens gives a sarcastically goodbye wave to the champion as she heads towards the back.

VASSA: “Stevens got lucky there because Tara would’ve owned his ass like she normally does.”

Once Tara is backstage, Stevens begins his walk to the ring, and once he reaches it he begins to circle it slowly, and methodically.

VASSA: “Stevens is making me feel a bit uneasy with him just circling the ring.”

JOHNSON: “He can’t be up to any good.”

Stevens stops circling right in front of the announce table as Caleb Houston begins to get to his feet. Stevens slithers into the ring and stands behind Caleb before turning him around and dropping him.

JOHNSON: “TOXIC STING! TOXIC STING! STEVENS JUST LAID OUT CALEB!”

VASSA: “What a coward! Attacking Caleb from behind like that!”

Stevens stares at Caleb expressionless before getting to his feet and heading towards the ropes signaling for a microphone. Powers is hesitate to approach the ring and Stevens isn’t happy that he’s not getting his microphone.

JOHNSON: “Give him the microphone!”

Stevens rolls out of the ring having waited long enough and makes his way towards Mike Powers.

VASSA: “Hey get your hands off of him! Security!”

Vassa yells as Stevens grabs a hold of Powers.

STEVENS: “When I ask for a mic you give me a fucking mic!”

Stevens shouts as he pushes Powers to the ground. Stevens collects the ring announcer’s chair and shoves the time keeper to the ground as well and takes his steel chair. Stevens tosses both chairs into the ring before rolling in himself. Stevens places one of the chairs underneath Caleb’s head and sets up the other one over him and takes a seat while placing his feet on the back of Houston’s head.

STEVENS: “This is it?”

Stevens asks as he points to Caleb Houston.

STEVENS: “This is the guy you all voted in to face Tara Davidson for the Fate championship?”

Stevens asks the crowd again but this time more disgust in his tone.

STEVENS: “How did that work out for you?”

Stevens asks as he shakes his head.

STEVENS: “I told all you idiots in the back and all of you here tonight that there was only one person who had a shot at beating the Red Queen and that was me!”

Stevens says as he points to himself.

STEVENS: “It’s obvious that Caleb got lucky against me all those weeks ago after his choke job here tonight against Tara. He proved that when the bright lights are on he isn’t ready for the big stage like me!”

Stevens says and the crowd boos the Texan.

STEVENS: “You boo me?”

The boos grow louder.

STEVENS: “You should be booing this farce of a challenger under my feet because he proved he isn’t championship material with his shitty performance here tonight, and I proved to everyone that I should’ve been in this match when I defeated Eddie Valentine in the Main Event of Adrenaline!”

The boos intensify and the crowd begins to chant, “Go Away Stevens!”

STEVENS: “You want me to leave?”

Stevens asks and the crowd chants. “YES! YES! YES!”

STEVENS: “Well tough because I’m not going anywhere!”

Stevens says as Houston begins to stir.

STEVENS: “Excuse me for a minute…”

Stevens says as he gets up from his chair and wait for Caleb to get to all fours. Stevens hits the ropes to deliver a curb stomp to Caleb onto the chair which brings more boos from the crowd.

JOHNSON: “Come on Stevens you made your point.”

VASSA: “Can we get security out here!”

Stevens relishes the damage done as he slowly brings the microphone to his lips.

STEVENS: “I shattered Eddie Valentine’s dreams on Adrenaline. Lauren Wolfe can’t hold my jock, and Caleb Houston proved to the world here tonight that he isn’t in my fucking league and yet you all want me to leave?”

The crowd cheers and starts chanting YES! once more.

STEVENS: “Fine!”

Stevens says as he tosses the mic down and goes to leave, but as soon as he reaches the ropes he runs back to Houston and begins to stomp on his head.

VASSA: “WHERE THE FUCK IS SECURITY?!?!?!?”

Stevens stops his onslaught long enough to grab the chair he was sitting in and lifts it high above his head.

VASSA: “Don’t you do it!”

A sick smile forms on Stevens’ face before he introduces the chair across the back of Houston. Stevens continues to bring the pain as he continues to hit Caleb in the spine with chair shot after chair shot more vicious than the one before. Stevens tosses the chair next to Houston’s face before making his way to his legs and picking them up to turn him over as security and officials begin to make their way out.

JOHNSON: “Security and officials have finally come to the aid of Caleb Houston.”

VASSA: “About fucking time!”

Stevens sees security and officials enter the ring and puts his hands up as they tell him to leave. Stevens makes his way over to the ropes to exit the ring but the Texan has second thoughts as he begins punching the officials and security and tossing them from the ring. Stevens goes back over to Caleb and grabs his legs and steps through before crossing them.

STEVENS: “SAY GOODBYE TO CALEB!”

Stevens shouts before turning him over onto his stomach and sitting down.

JOHNSON: “ARACHNOPHOBIA! ARACHNOPHOBIA! HE’S TRYING TO BREAK THE MAN’S BACK!”

VASSA: “GET THE FUCK IN THERE YOU PUSSIES AND GET HIM OFF OF CALEB!”

Security and referees slide into the ring and try to pry Stevens off of Houston but the Texan won’t let go of the hold as Caleb screams in agony.

STEVENS: “HE BROUGHT IT UPON HIMSELF! IT’S ALL HIS FAULT!”

Stevens shouts over and over until security is finally about to break Stevens’ grasp. Stevens continues to fight with security as he tries to push his way back to Caleb but soon realizes he’s out numbered and exits the ring. Stevens hops over the barricade and smiles at his handiwork as medical personal come down to check on Houston.

JOHNSON: “What a sadistic and uncalled for attack by Stevens!”

VASSA: “Fucking coward.”

Stevens disappears into the crowd as they rain down trash and beverages of various kind onto him.

JOHNSON: “We will keep you updated on the condition of Caleb Houston once we hear more.”

VASSA: “Hope he’s alright.”

The cameras switch to the backstage area to where the 4CW Champion, Jair Hopkins along with his partners, make their way through the entrance area of the Metro Radio Arena. Smiles on the face of Hopkins as he takes the long stroll. Gabriel Hartman approaches the Champ as he holds a smile, knowing he was going to get something good from the interview.

HARTMAN: “Gentlemen, 4CW Champ, Jair Hopkins … UK treating you good?”

Hopkins nodded, adjusting the title on his shoulder.

HOPKINS: “Yeah man, UK has been fantastic. Treated me real well! I in return will treat them back with a great showdown tonight. Eli has made his bed for weeks, now tonight, it’s time he gets to sleep in it. He earned it. He really, really earned it. He should feel good, his one-time in the spotlight, he’s going to burn.”

Hopkins partners, Darron and Boogie snickered in the backdrop as Hopkins patted his title a couple times.

HARTMAN: “Eli has quickly become a rising star here in 4CW. Do you hold a little doubt in your mind that tonight could be his night rather than your night? It’s a lot of drama involved between you two and sadly the record doesn’t lie when it comes to you and title defenses.”

Hopkins lowered his head as he looked at Hartman with a sideways smirk.

HOPKINS: “Don’t tell me you are on the ‘Carlson Bandwagon’ too, G? There’s record and stats on everything these days man. Basketball, Football, Hockey, Soccer, a hell of a lot of sports have grand statistics on everybody. Even with what we do. Records don’t lie, but I do not make the same mistakes twice.

Eli has come up pretty well after his wife helped him out in that contract ladder match at Fright Night but hey, all is fair in love and war. I will give him props, he has been a rising star so far in 4CW. He just has a problem pressing buttons that don’t need to be pressed but it’s fine. If he gets the job done, so be it. Well-done. If he don’t, he’ll just look even more of a jackass. Do I hold doubt of the unfortunate happening? Hahahahaha … Hell no!”

HARTMAN: “So no doubts to Eli’s ability in this Falls Count Anywhere match, knowing all hell could break loose and it could be your doom?”

HOPKINS: “That’s why I chose that type of match. Bring every available source he has to help him win because he’s going to need it. If he do happen to beat me, Gabriel … He’s going to feel every bit of the wear and tear. Bring his family, his wife, their black step kids. Bring whatever works for Eli because again, he’s going to need it!”

Hartman laughed at the response as he held his hands up.

HARTMAN: “Alright Champ, have fun out there!”

Hopkins nodded up to him as he and his boys left the site, going back to their slow troll down the hallway with the cameras fading back to ringside.

UNDERCARD
MIKE BEST VS. MAX KAEL

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

“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.

POWERS: “And the opponent!”

“Rats Rule” by Die Antwoord feat. Jack Black 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.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Arkham, Massachusetts, weighing in at two hundred sixty pounds and standing six feet, three inches tall… MAX KKAAEELL!!!”

Reaching the ring Max quickly climbs the stairs and slips between the ropes. He slithers toward his corner, locking eyes with Mike standing in the corner. Stopping in his tracks, Max doesn’t blink once, he just stares at Mike in silence as the tension between the two grows. Standing back, Mike remains in his corner, not losing his cool as Max slowly makes his way to his corner on the opposite side of the ring.

VASSA: “I’d hate to be standing in the ring between those two.”

JOHNSON: “There hasn’t been much between these two since Mike Best made his appearance on Adrenaline weeks ago.”

VASSA: “You mean the night that Max nearly murdered Zi–Darin Matthews.”

JOHNSON: “That was enough to catch Perry’s attention for booking this match between the two. They have a lot of history from their previous promotion. The fans are no stranger to seeing these two face off in the ring and Perry sees money in that.”

VASSA: “From what I know about these two, there’s no doubt a showdown between them is a pay-per-view quality match.”

JOHNSON: “This should definitely be a good one for Winter Wasteland and the Newcastle fans in attendance.”

VASSA: “Now we just need Scott Stevens, JPD, and Zion out here to have ourselves a little reunion.”

JOHNSON: “Well I don’t know about all that!”

As both men stand in their corners, staring across the ring at one another, the official steps to the center of the ring to grab their attention. First checking in with Mike, the official quickly gets the okay from Best as he nods with a cocky grin on his face. Turning to Max second, there is no hesitation at all as Max points to the official and then turns his attention directed at Mike. With both men ready, the official quickly throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

VASSA: “Here we go!”

As the bell silences, both Mike and Max step away from their corners and slowly approach one another until standing face to face in the center of the ring. Not taking their eyes off one another, the two stand in the center of the ring as the anticipation from the crowd grows as to what’s going to happen next. Extending his arms out to his sides, Mike says a few choice words to Max before shrugging his shoulders and stepping forward, driving both palms across Max’s chest and pushing him back a few steps.

Angry, Max then lunges forward and slaps Mike across the chest with both hands, pushing him back a couple of steps. The two then step into one another, butting heads as they exchange words. Pushing with their heads, they try to move the other backwards but remain where they stand as neither man budges. After a few moments, Mike eases us as Max pushes forward, putting his weight into Mike. Quickly stepping out of the way, Mike hooks his arm underneath Max’s, using his momentum to lift him into the air and flip him down to the canvas on his back.

Max instantly pops back to his feet as Mike looks on with a cocky grin stretched across his face. Lunging forward, Max tries to lock onto Mike but misses as Mike side steps him and locks onto his arm. Turning Max around, Mike pulls him in for a short-arm clothesline but misses as Max ducks underneath and moves in behind him. Wrapping his arms around Mike’s waist, Max locks his hands but before he can make a move, Mike quickly grabs onto his hands to pry them apart as he drives his legs into the canvas and pushes back and lowers his stance.

Max then attempts to lift Mike up for a German suplex but doesn’t lift him off the mat as Mike hooks his leg with Max’s. Mike then throws an elbow back, slamming it against Max’s face. Not letting go of his grip, Max attempts to lift Mike again but gets stopped as Mike locks his leg once more. As Mike throws another elbow back, Max releases his hold and ducks, causing Mike’s momentum to turn him around completely. Rising up, Max then wraps both arms around Mike’s torso and lifts him into the air before turning his body and driving Mike into the mat with a belly to belly suplex.

JOHNSON: “I can tell just by watching them that these two are very familiar with one another in the ring.”

VASSA: “You think that was choreographed after watching the chainlike reversals.”

JOHNSON: “Mike isn’t staying down though!”

As Max stands to his feet, Mike is right behind him, standing to his. The two then lunge towards one another, locking up. Lifting his leg upward, Mike drives his knee into Max’s stomach, knocking the breath out of him before pulling his head down and applying a side headlock. Before Mike can lock the move in tightly, Max begins pumping his legs, driving Mike forward before pushing him away and sending him stomach first into the nearby ropes. Hitting the ropes and bouncing off, Mike rebounds backwards and into Max’s arms as he wraps them around him. In a fluid motion, Max lifts Mike off his feet for a German suplex but Mike quickly escapes the hold and rolls up and over Max, falling to his feet behind him.

Jumping up, Mike plants both feet in between Max’s shoulders with a drop kick, knocking him forward to the ropes. As Max hits the ropes and comes back on the rebound, Mike pops back up to his feet hits him with a version of a superkick to the stomach, forcing Max to hunch over from the impact. Turning to the ropes to his right, Mike takes off in their direction and comes back with a running European uppercut that stands Max straight up. Mike then kicks Max in the stomach, forcing him to lunge over once more. This time he steps in and locks his arm around Max’s head before falling backwards with a snap DDT.

VASSA: “This is the type of wrestling I love to see! Bang, ba–“

JOHNSON: “Mike goes down alone!”

VASSA: “What the–“

Pulling his head away from mike before he can pull him down, Max escapes the snap DDT, leaving Mike empty handed as he crashes to the canvas. Planting both hands into the mat, Mike pushes himself up but as he stands, Max quickly moves in and gouges both eyes with his thumbs. Mike stumbles backwards, blinded and unaware of his surroundings. Max then moves in and connects with a left jab to Mike’s jaw before following up with a right hook to the side of the head. Staggering backwards across the ring, Mike comes to a stop as his back presses against the ropes.

With Mike temporarily blinded, Max then charges at him full speed with a running clothesline. Hearing Max’s footsteps get closer and closer, Mike ducks down, lowering his stance as Max closes in. Popping back up, Mike lifts Max off his feet and flips him over the top rope. Grabbing onto the rope, Max manages to use it as he lands on his feet on the apron. Mike then spins around and throws a bling punch for Max’s head.

JOHNSON: “He doesn’t even know what he’s punching at.”

VASSA: “It’s like hitting a piñata.”

Ducking down and driving through the top and middle ropes, Max slams his shoulder into Mike’s stomach. He then stands back up and grabs onto Mike’s head with both hands before dropping down to his knees and pulling Mike’s head down, slamming his throat across the top rope. Stumbling backwards, Mike eventually falls to the mat in the center of the ring. Dipping through the ropes, Max then charges towards mike and leaps forward, coming down onto Mike’s chest with an elbow drop.

Back on his feet, Max then begins stomping on Mike’s knee before transitioning the attack to kicks to Mike’s ribs. After multiple kicks to Mike, Max then moves over to Mike’s feet and lifts one into the air, elevating his leg. While holding Mike’s leg in place, Max then kicks him in the back of the knee over and over before delivering one solid kick to the groin. Mike moans in agony as the pain settles in, bringing a smile to Max’s face. Max then slams Mike’s ankle down to the canvas before turning to the ropes to his left. Hitting them with force, Max rebounds and comes back with even more speed as he slides feet first and drives them both into Mike’s head with a baseball slide to the head.

VASSA: “Max seems to have things under control.”

JOHNSON: “After some back and forth between the two, it’s now a one sided affair in his favor.”

VASSA: “We’ll see how long he can keep it up.”

Max then grabs onto Mike and slowly pulls him up to his feet. In a fit of rage, Mike drives Max backwards before pushing him away and into the nearby official. Max slams into the official, squashing him against the corner as the fans begin to boo heavily.

JOHNSON: “Oh no, the official!”

VASSA: “Laroy Jones should have kept clear!”

JOHNSON: “I don’t think anyone saw that coming, let alone the official.”

Favoring his knee, Mike slightly leans to one side as he rubs his eyes, still feeling the effects from the gouge to them earlier. Stepping away from the corner, Max hears a thud and as he turns around, he sees the official down on the canvas. At that moment, an evil grin comes to his face as he reaches down into his pants and pulls out a foreign object.

JOHNSON: “What is th–“

VASSA: “Max has a pair of brass knuckles!”

JOHNSON: “I guess a fair fight is out of the question.”

After slipping the brass knuckles onto his fingers, Max then charges towards Mike. While in stride, Max draws back for a power punch but as he swings forward, Mike dodges the blow to the head and lifts Max into the air. Turning a full one-eighty, Mike drives Max into the canvas with a spinning spinebuster!

VASSA: “Holy shit! Mike denied him the opportunity to lay him out with the brass knuckles!”

JOHNSON: “Oh man, this may be bad for Max!”

VASSA: “Uh-oh…”

JOHNSON: “What?”

VASSA: “My stomach doesn’t feel right.”

Mike pushes himself up and as he hovers over Max on all fours, he looks to see the brass knuckles only a few feet away. Looking back down to Max, Mike slaps him across the mouth as the camera zooms in and reads his lips. “Really?”

Mike then stands to his feet and steps towards the brass knuckles only to come to a stop as Max locks onto his foot. Pulling Mike’s leg out from under him, Max brings Mike down to the canvas. Reaching as far as he can, Mike extends his arm and stretches his body only to come up inches short from reaching the brass knuckles. As Max continues to pull him away from the brass knuckles, Mike rolls over to his side and pulls his other legs knee to his chest. He then kicks forward, slamming his foot into Max’s face, breaking his hold. Mike then rolls back over and reaches for the brass knuckles, this time grabbing them.

JOHNSON: “Mike has the brass knuckles!”

VASSA: “Oohhh man, I have to go to the bathroom.”

JOHNSON: “Hold it.”

VASSA: “I can’t! I have to–“

A thud is then heard from the headset as Vinny tosses the headset down and quickly stands to his feet.

JOHNSON: “Where are you going?!”

Vinny then shuffles around the ring and up the ramp in a hurry.

The two men race to their feet, Max standing first and as Mike gets to one knee, Max rushes in and hits him in the back of the head with a forearm smash. Max then grabs onto Mike and pulls him up to his feet before locking onto his wrist. Using all of his strength and weight, Max then goes to whip Mike to the ropes.

JOHNSON: “Mike reverses the throw!”

Before Max can release, Mike locks onto and refuses to let go. He then uses the momentum to pull Max into a haymaker with the brass knuckles!

JOHNSON: “OOOHHHHHH!!!”

Max staggers backwards for a moment before coming to a stop and wobbling back and forth, still on his feet.

JOHNSON: “It’s just me at the booth folks and Mike Best has given Max a taste of his own medicine.”

Mike then lunges forward and connects with another punch with the brass knuckles, this time knocking Max down to one knee.

JOHNSON: “THERE’S ANOTHER ONE!!! MAX JUST WON’T GO DOWN!!!”

Mike then slips the brass knuckles off of his fingers and slides them across the ring and to the outside. Shaking his head, Mike slowly walks towards Max and steps in beside him. Grabbing a handful of hair, Mike then pulls the back of his head down, forcing Max to look up at him through his blurred vision. Mike then steps in behind him and wraps his arm over Max’s face and locks it around his head with an inverted facelock.

JOHNSON: “Things aren’t looking too good for Max. Mike has him right where he wants him!”

Mike then yells across the ring to the official who has slowly started coming to his senses. With the official slowly getting to his feet, Mike then hits Max with a rolling cutter!

JOHNSON: “There it is! The Trigger Warning!”

With Max laid out in the center of the ring, Mike nonchalantly crawls over him and makes the cover with ease as the official slides in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: “There you have it folks! Mike Best has defeated Max Kael and Vinny wasn’t even here to witness it!”

“Me Too” hits the speakers as Mike slowly rises to his feet. Looking down at Max, Mike chuckles before stepping away from him. The cockiness then consumes the ring as Mike stands victorious over Max. Stepping in beside him, the official then raises Mike’s arm in the air for only a second before Mike snatches it away and mouths off.

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

POWERS: “Here is your winner, MIKE BBEESSTT!!!”

Walking back over to Max, Mike squats down beside him before mouthing off and taunting him. He then stands to his feet and walks slowly over to his corner before dipping through the ropes.

JOHNSON: “Well there you have it folks. Mike Best defeats Max Kael and I’m sitting here at the booth all by myself. Vinny had an emergency come up that needed his attention so if you will, stay clear of the bathroom for at least twenty minutes. We’re going to go backstage as the ring is cleared for our next match. We’ll be right back folks, and hopefully with the other half of the commentary team.”

Nothing to out of the ordinary was happening in the backstage catering area, the camera focused in on none other than Vinny Vassa stuffing his face with little sandwiches that were spread out along the white sheeted table in front of him. The other people that were around the portly man walked off and out of the scene, leaving the man by his lonesome. He didn’t seem to notice however, all of his attention was with the food in front of him. This continues on for a few moments until a loud shriek is heard followed by some sort of ruckus to Vinny’s left. Vassa jumps at the suddenness of the scream before whipping his body in the direction of the sound. His eyes quickly scan around the room before narrowing in on female child darting in his direction. Vinny’s face goes from that of confusion quickly to that of concern. As the little girl gets close to him she wraps her arms around his wide frame and begins to break down in tears.

VASSA: ”Hey…Hey what’s wrong little one?”

She looks up at him with tears running down her almost crystal blue eyes. She quickly then grabs onto his shirt and starts to tug at him to follow her.

CHILD ”Please! You have to come help me, I think my daddy’s having a heart attack!”

Vinny is quick to follow the girl as she heads down the hallway and turns into an open door to her left. Looking around erratically Vinny follows her into the room, he is searching the ground with his eyes for the girls father. But instead he is met with a more confusing sight. In the middle of the room was a single chair, and standing next to that chair with a shit-eating grin on his face was Bob Fisher. Vinny stops in his tracks, almost petrified at the sight of the old man. A childlike giggle can be heard from behind Vassa – who turns to the see the little girl grinning as she exits the room, shutting the door behind her. Vassa turns his attention to Bob who has taken a few steps in his direction. Bob holds out his arms to the chair.

FISHER: ”Why don’t you take a seat here fat boy.”

Vassa quickly puts his hands up in the air, as if trying to plead with the raggedy old man.

VASSA: ”Listen Guy I ju-””

Bob, clearly not having any of Vassa’s shit grabs him by the arm. Vassa tries to fight away but the old man is a lot stronger than he looks – easily dragging the fatter man over and into the chair. Vassa goes to speak but in typical Bob Fisher fashion, he doesn’t get the chance.

FISHER: ”Now ya’ see here shitbird… What you did at Adrenaline, well it may have been the stupidest shit you’re down syndrome ass has ever done. Now I know what you’re thinking that it’s probably not really that bad… That nothing will actually come out of this… That this right here is just a threat. But I have a little surprise for you Vassa… And if you want to walk out of here alive I’d suggest you keep your cock sucker shut!”

Vassa was trying to remain as calm and cool as possible but it’s obvious that Bob got to him a little bit. Bob backed away from Vassa and after a few moments the lights went out in the room – but a single spotlight turned on and it was focused of Vassa who was trying to recover from being blinded by the extremely vibrant light. After a few moments Vinny gets his sight adjusted and starts to look around the room. But it’s what’s directly in front of him that gets his attention.

From out of the darkness walks the man known as Dybbuk. He stands in front of Vassa, the camera at his back. Dybbuk’s frame almost shadows over Vassa so that you can barely see the commentator. A silence goes throughout the room, not even the sound of breathing can be heard. Dybbuk then slowly crouches down so that he is at eye level. After another few moments of this Dybbuk slowly reaches his hands up to his mask and gradually slides it up so that only Vassa can see his face. Almost instantly Vassa’s face, which was for the most part calm, twists into horror.

He starts to scream and back away in his chair, trying his hardest to get away from the man. Dybbuk raises one hand and gives an almost silent but loud enough for Vassa to hear. “Shh”. He then pulls the mask back down, stands back up and backs away into the shadows. The spotlight turns off and the normal lights return, showing the room to be empty except for Vassa sitting in the middle of it – a look of fear and confusion etched into his face.

UNDERCARD
MATTHIAS BARROWS VS. MARIANO FERNANDEZ

JOHNSON: “Hell of a night we’ve had here so far folks and things are only going to heat up from here on out..”

VASSA: “*huffs and puffs, gasping for breath*”

JOHNSON: “Jesus Christ, Vinny. Are you okay? They say nausea and shortness of breath are signs of a heart attack.”

VASSA: “HA! *huffs and puffs* I.. *huffs*..I’m fine. I just.. *huffs*.. I don’t want to talk about it.”

JOHNSON: “That’s just great, Vincent. Real damn professional of you.”

VASSA: “YOU DIDN’T *gasps* SEE *puffs* WHAT I JUST SAW.. oh god..”

JOHNSON: Well why don’t you tell us what you saw then, Vinny?.”

VASSA: “No. Nononononono.”

The sound of a pipe organ begins to fill the arena as the crowd rises to its feet in a hail of boos. Every few seconds, the pipe organ increases up the musical scale by one note. Suddenly, as the pipe organ hits it’s dramatic note, the lights go out. Pyro then begins to envelop the stage for 10 seconds. When it subsides, the final tier of Dancing Mad is playing throughout the arena. Nine seconds in, the lights shoot back on and Matthias Barrows is standing on the stage with his arms straight back and his fists at the side of his ribs. Stacy Barrows and Gary the Assassin appear from behind the curtain a few seconds later, and the three of them slowly start to walk towards the ring.

POWERS: “Making his way to the ring, being accompanied by Stacy Barrows and Gary the Assassin; from Reno, Nevada, weighing in at two hundred and forty-one pounds, ‘The King of Greens’, MATTHIAS BBAARRRROOWWSS!!!”

When they get to the bottom of the ramp, Stacy and Gary walk over to the steps. As Matthias hops up onto the ring apron, he throws his head back while hanging on the top rope and fireworks erupt above the ring as the song hits it’s somber half. Matthias then enters the ring and hopes onto the second turnbuckle. He hangs his right hand with a curled elbow and thrusts his left arm, palm-out, straight down before extending both arms out to the side, flexing his muscles.

JOHNSON: “Coming off a tough loss at Adrenaline fifty-seven in the second of two fatal fourway matches, Barrows looks set to rebound here tonight..”

VASSA: “I just… I need a minute. Barrows. Yeah. Looks good. *deep breath*”

At that point, the arena lights go dark, and a Trollface appears on the big screen.

Problem?

But something doesn’t seem right, as there is no usual Skyrim entrance music, but rather a fast, powerful guitar riff!

RITA REPULSA: “AHH! After ten thousand years, I’M FREE! It’s time to CONQUER EARTH!”

ZORDON: “Alpha, Rita’s escaped! Recruit a team of teenagers with attitude!”

As the beat turns quicker, the arena lights start flickering in black, pink, blue, yellow, and red before finally going dark…

POWERS: “And now, standing tall at six feet and weighing in at one hundred and eighty pounds, from somewhere in Skyrim… ‘THE GADFLY’… MARIANO FFEERRNNAANNDDEEZZ!!!”

The beat reaches a stop as the lights go dark again…

FERNANDEZ :“Alright, chicos! IT’S MORPHIN’ TIME!”

“GO GO POWER RANGERS!”

VASSA: “WHAT THE FUCK?”

JOHNSON: “Here we go, Vinny!”

Suddenly, the lights go back to normal, and Mariano is striking a pose in the stage entrance. The fans erupt in an explosion of cheers!

“GO GO POWER RANGERS!”

JOHNSON: “Say hello to DA #TROLL GUY! Mariano Fernandez is here!”

VASSA: “Is this idiot ACTUALLY dressed up as a POWER RANGER!?”

And indeed, Mariano is dressed up as the Red Power Ranger, complete with helmet! He starts racing down to the arena, sliding into the ring under his belly!

“GO GO POWER RANGERS! MIGHTY MORPHIN’ POWER RANGERS!”

He removes his Tyrannosaurus helmet, and strikes a martial arts pose in front of a dumbfounded Matthias Barrows!

FERNANDEZ :“POWER RANGERS!”

Matthias Barrows looks at Mariano as if the latter’s gone insane, with the fans blowing the roof off the arena at the entrance they’ve just seen.

JOHNSON: “And there it is, folks! DA #TROLL GUY playing his mind games.”

VASSA: “The Power Rangers aren’t gonna help him when he’s covered in bong water and there’s blood in his eye!”

As the two men wait for the match to begin, referee Laroy Jones goes over the rules of the match with both men and then proceeds to check and make sure they have nothing stored away for use during the match. Having gone through his prematch routine, Jones checks with Manny and Matthias to make sure they’re both ready to compete. Upon getting a nod from both men, Jones waves his hand and signals for the bell and the start of the match.

DING!!! DING!!!

The moment that Jones moved to signal for the bell, Barrows is like a man shot out of a cannon, launching himself across the ring at full speed, spearing Manny back into his own corner. Barrows is quick to grab the middle rope and use his shoulder as a battering ram over and over and over again delivering powerful blows to the abdomen of Mariano Fernandez. Finally, after five clubbing blows, Barrows stands up and unleashes a knife edged chop to the chest of da troll guy, leaving a red welt across in its wake. Manny tries to cover up his chest but Matthias pushes his hand away and then delivers an open palmed slap to the exact spot the chop had connected. Backing off, Barrows allows Manny to take a few uneasy steps out of the corner before connecting with a standing drop kick, knocking da troll guy down to the mat.

JOHNSON: “There’s the mean streak that Matthias Barrows is going to need if he’s going to win tonight. He’s got to be aggressive and he can’t play into Mariano’s friendly game of it all being in good fun.”

VASSA: “Right… yeah… aggressive… that’s what he needs to be.”

JOHNSON: “Get your damn head in the game, Vincent..”

Barrows holds his arms out wide, playing to the crowd and receiving a round of boo’s in response from all except for Stacy and Gary who clap proudly for him at ringside. Returning his attention to his opponent, Matthias pulls Manny back up to his feet by his soccer mom hair and sends him running into the ropes. On the rebound Manny launches himself into the air, catching Matthias with a flying forearm that knocks him down to the mat. Manny continues his sprint, bouncing off the opposite ropes as Matthias gets back to his feet quickly and turns just in time to be flattened with a second flying forearm. Again, Manny continues his sprint as Barrows fights back to his feet. Looking for a quick back body drop, Matthias telegraphs the ove and receives a stiff kick to the sternum from Fernandez that stands up back upright. Quickly, Manny swoops do the side and executes a flawless Russian Leg Sweep and then pops back up to his feet, flailing his fists like the real power rangers do on their television show.

Manny then backs up to the ropes but before he can go any farther he’s tripped up by two sets of hands that wrap themselves around his ankles and cause him to faceplant off the mat. Gary and Stacy are quick to pull him out of the ring to buy Matthias some time. Shaking off the haze that crept over him from bouncing his face off the mat, Manny points a warning finger at both of them as Barrows gets back to his feet in the ring. Turning around and seeing Manny arguing with the other two, Barrows drops to the mat and rolls out of the ring and makes his way around to them, looking to club Fernandez in the back. Out of the corner of his eye, however, Manny manages to see him coming and duck under the blow, shoving him into Gary and Stacy before turning and using the steel ring steps to springboard off of, moonsaulting himself onto the trio of Matthias, Stacy and Gary, taking them all down.

“HOLY SHIT! … HOLY SHIT! … HOLY SHIT! … HOLY SHIT! … HOLY SHIT!”

Inside the ring, Laroy Jones shouts at both men to get up and get back into the ring. Both Manny and Matthias are slow to get up but it’s Fernandez who’s up just a bit quicker, grabbing Barrows by his long locks of hair and dragging him over towards the far side of the ring where he quickly deposits him into the security barrier. Smartly, Manny rolls himself back into the ring and then back out to break any count that referee Jones might have considered starting. As he sets back on Barrows, Matthias catches him with a european uppercut that stuns da troll guy. Taking a step back, Barrows then lowers his shoulder and charges at Manny, driving him backwards and slamming him into the side of the ring. In pain, Manny clutches his back and drops to his knees, giving Barrows the time that he needs to begin digging under the ring to pull out a table.

JOHNSON: “It looks like Barrows has bad intentions as he sets up the that wooden table. ”

VASSA: “What the hell do you know about bad intentions?”

JOHNSON: “Would you just spill whatever it is that’s got you so rattled, Vinny?”

VASSA: “No. I can’t. Just… let’s focus on the match yes?”

With the wooden table set up at ringside, Barrows drags Manny back to his feet and delivers a few stiff blows to the side of his head before laying him out across the table. The referee shouts a word of warning as Barrows climbs up onto the ring apron but Matthias waves him off and then takes off running, leaping off and delivering a flying elbow onto Manny that causes the table to snap in half, leaving both men writing on the ground outside the ring in agony. Finally, after giving the two competitors an eternity to get back into the ring, Laroy Jones begins to count.

“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Five!”

Barrows begins to show some life but he doesn’t look like he’s going anywhere anytime soon. Mariano, on the other hand, looks like he just got stomped on by Alduin. If it wasn’t for the rise and fall of his chest to let the world know he was still breathing one might think he was dead. Of course, everyone knows you can’t really kill a nord. He could get eaten by a fucking dragon and just end up respawning and killing the dragon that ate him a few minutes later. It’s basically like Call of Duty for bigger nerds. But that’s beside the point. The real point is that Manny is down and out, while Barrows is just barely starting to move.

“Six! … Seven! … Eight!”

Having recovered from the moonsault that Manny landed on them, Stacy and Gary hurry over and help Matthias get back to his feet and roll into the ring. Manny has just started to move but is struggling to get back to his feet when the referee shouts “NINE” loud enough for the fans watching live from Freedumb’s basement to hear. Shaking his head, Manny forces himself back to his feet and begins to make his way back to the ring but Gary and Stacy grab hold of both of his legs, trying to keep him from being able to reenter the ring in time. Despite the fact that referee Laroy Jones was hand picked by Frankie Morrison, he’s not quite as blind and oblivious to reality as Frankie was. He sees clearly what is going on and shouts stops his count, shouting at Stacy and Gary to let him go. When they do, Jones has decided he’s had enough of them and orders them to go backstage.

JOHNSON: “I think Laroy Jones just helped to even things up a bit in Manny’s favor.”

VASSA: “It’s certainly going to make things a bit more difficult on Matthias to win this match and lay any kind of claim to that NGW championship that Mariano once held.”

JOHNSON: “What’s that all about anyway?”

VASSA: “I couldn’t say. But I can tell you this. There’s nothing officially on the line here tonight between these two other than bragging rights.”

With both men back in the ring and looking much worse for wear, they meet in the center of the ring and exchange rights and lefts with Mariano eventually getting the upper hand and driving Barrows back into his own corner. After a few quick chops to Barrows chest, Mariano hoists Matthias up to the top rope and then climbs up to the second rope, delivering a few more blows to the side of Barrows head before hooking his arm around Barrows neck. When he attempts to superplex him off of the top rope, however, Matthias checks it and returns fire with a few strikes of his own to the exposed ribcage of Mariano Fernandez. The strikes do their job in weakening the hold da troll guy has, eventually leading to Matthias shoving him down to the mat. Barrows then steadies himself on the top rope and leaps off, only to find Manny has rolled out of the way and left him with nothing to do but crash awkwardly down to the canvas.

Slowly both men climb back to their feet with Manny getting up just a bit quicker. He looks at Matthias as his opponent steadies himself and shouts a fierce “FUS RO DAH!” at Matthias before moving towards him. THE GADFLY! Fernandez catches Barrows directly across the temple with a step up enziguri. Quickly, Manny drags Matthias towards the center of the ring and drops down, hooking the leg with one arm and counting with the referee with his other.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Barrows powers out at the last second, rolling over onto his side and sitting up as Mariano gets back to his feet as well, not allowing frustration to set in, dragging Matthias the rest of the way back up. Without delay, Manny hoists Matthias up onto his shoulders into a torture rack position before dropping him down with a brutal hanging neckbreaker. Back to his feet quickly, Manny looks at the fallen Barrows and shrugs his shoulders, staring at his fallen opponent with a grin before saying “Problem?” Again, Manny drops to his knees and hooks the leg of Matthias Barrows, putting weight down on his opponents upper torso with his forearm as Jones slides in for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–KICKOUT!!!

JOHNSON: “KICKOUT BY BARROWS”

VASSA: “Oh man how embarrassing would it have been for Matthias to lose to a maneuver that he formerly used to put opponents away regularly.”

JOHNSON: “I thought that looked familiar. That’s the move that Barrows to this day calls the 10-SP.”

VASSA: “That’s right. Ten seconds of paralysis and it wasn’t enough to keep Matthias Barrows down. That’s got to be frustrating for Mariano.”

Once more, Mariano pulls Matthias back up to his feet by his hair. He quickly whips him into the corner and, without bothering with the chops this time, lifts him up to the top rope. Again, Manny looks for the superplex that he tried to hit earlier but again, Matthias is quick to stuff it. He returns fire with a sharp forearm to Mariano’s jaw, stunning the self proclaimed Nord warrior. Barrows blocks a response from Mariano again and then connects a second time with a vicious forearm. Not waiting any longer, Matthias quickly catches Fernandez off guard and lifts him up into the air, flipping him over and then leaping from the top rope, driving Fernandez down to the mat. THE OVERDOSE! SIT OUT POWERBOMB FROM THE TOP ROPE! Barrows quickly transitions the maneuver into a pinning position but Manny seems to have had the life knocked out of him once more. Jones, surprised at the sudden turn of events, slides in to count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

POWERS: Here is your winner… by pinfall…. MATTHIAS BBAARRRROOWWSS!!!”

JOHNSON: “Where the hell did that come from?”

VASSA: “I really don’t know. Manny had been in full control of the match after both men got back in the ring. But just like that, Barrows capitalized on a mistake from Da Troll Guy and in the blink of an eye the match was over.”

JOHNSON: “I’m at a loss for words right now.”

VASSA: “Maybe a little less time pretending to be a damn power ranger and more time actually doing his job is in store for Mariano in the future.”

JOHNSON: “You’re one to talk. You barely had any idea what was oging on for the first half of the match. What was that about, anyway?”

VASSA: “Nothing. Forget it. Let’s just celebrate the fact that we have a new NGW Champion.”

JOHNSON: “No we don’t.”

VASSA: “Look, if you beat the champ you become the champ, right?”

JOHNSON: “No. You’re smarter than that Vinny. Stop deflecting.”

VASSA: “I’m not deflecting. It’s the truth. All Hail Matthias Barrows, NGW World Champion!”

It’s all Steve Johnson can do to keep from snapping at his coworker but he manages to maintain control over his temper. Meanwhile, in the ring, Matthias Barrows has his hand raised in the air in victory by Laroy Jones. And while he might not actually be the new NGW World Champion, he certainly proved a point against Mariano Fernandez here tonight at Winter Wasteland.

The camera is backstage and comes live on the face of The Princess of 4CW herself, Genevie Carlson. She has a smile on her face as she licks her lips and waves at the camera.

G. CARLSON: ”Hey my waste of space subjects! It’s the only Princess that matters. Better than your tight ass Queen, and I would definitely make Princess Diana look like she’s a project hoe. So it was a good thing she was brutally destroyed in a car crash.”

Genevie smirked and took a deep breath as she closed her eyes and listened to the boos erupt. She then held her hand up.

G. CARLSON: ”Silence Peasants! I have some important things to say! Starting with first the Pride Championship. The legacy of the Pride Championship has never really been anything special. You had a bunch of unimportant rejects holding it, then someone like Aidan got it. To lose it in a Gauntlet match that proved she wasn’t anything close to ALPHA.”

Genevie shook her head and rolled her eyes.

G. CARLSON: ”Brennan Devlin held it for a couple of months and then lost it to a couple of nobodies who aren’t even alive or relevant anymore. I mean they lost it to a child in Jett Wilder. Who’s highlight of the day is sucking mommy’s tits and playing with his “action figures” aka “man barbies.”

Gen of course air quoted the words as she cleared her throat and cracked her neck before placing the smile back on her face.

G. CARLSON: ”Jett of course was screwed over by paid off referees which is just sad. Like seriously way to really start a reign off right Madison. We all know how that long, drawn out affair ended. With Morrison being exposed and Madison running for the hills and proving what a failure he really is in some other place that will probably start pre-determining his win and loss records. To come to the biggest joke and that’s Bryan Williams winning over Jason Cashe. They made that match a real joke. Cashe did more than Williams but seriously in the past year there has not been a serious and worthy Champion of holding a title with the name of PRIDE. But you know what?! All that is going to change TONIGHT. When I become the 4CW Pride Champion.”

Gen looked up as if she was envisioning the site of her holding the Pride Championship. She bit her lip and had to shake herself out of her daydream.

G. CARLSON: ”It is truly time for someone to step up and be a true symbol of Pride in this company. Nobody is more worthy of this title than your Princess of 4CW. Standing tall next to the 4CW Champion, the Prince himself Elijah Carlson. I blew it with the Fate Championship but Marquis wasn’t as great as she would leave you to believe. She had like one successful title defense. She beat Lyza who was one foot out the door already. So what if she beat Jair. So did Brian Hollywood and we see how far that got him. Cashe hasn’t been worthy of gold in close to forever. He can fade back into making openers watchable at the very least and Williams can stay comfortable and complacent with being the Loveable Loser we all just love.”

Genevie clapped her hands together in pure delight at herself.

G. CARLSON: ”Tonight is my night. Williams is too busy in his locker room hanging himself and jerking off. Not sure if he’s trying to kill or thrill himself. Marquis and Cashe are too busy popping pills and smoking themselves out and here I am. Looking flawless and gorgeous as ever. Ready to bring this fight to them. Ready to prove to them that I can take every bit of pain they have to dish out and give it right back to them, only with more precision and better technique that will make them slam their hands on the mat and let all their hopes and dreams of being Pride Champion die. This is officially going to be MY division and the rest of you little bitches will be lucky, if I let you come close to touching me. If you will even have the privilege to try and come close to my level. Tonight you will all have no choice but to BOW DOWN to your Princess, and NEW Pride Champion.”

Genevie blew a kiss into the camera before winking as she gave a royal wave and flipped her hair over her shoulder as she walked off camera and the scene faded.

JOHNSON: “So that’s three great matches to kick things off for the evening.”

VASSA: “The night has started off good to say the least. One champion has retained. Will the others?”

JOHNSON: “That’s a tough one to answer. Tara Davidson set the bar for the night in her successful defense earlier over Caleb Houston. That match could have went either way.”

VASSA: “It really could have. Tara has been dominant in tag competition and has now proven to be just as good as a singles champion.”

JOHNSON: “That she has. Well, with one championship match out of the way, that leaves three more.”

VASSA: “I can’t wait to see this XTV Championship match!”

JOHNSON: “Or the Pride and the 4CW Championship matches. Before we get that far, we have something else special planned for the evening.”

VASSA: “Last week it was hinted that there may be a Hall of Fame ceremony tonight and looking at the lineup, that’s exactly what we have next.”

JOHNSON: “4CW has been in business for three years. I think a Hall of Fame is definitely due.”

VASSA: “With the amount of names that have come in and out of 4CW, I’m eager to see who gets selected.”

JOHNSON: “Wait no further! I’ve just been informed that the stage is set.”

The entrance stage is secluded in the darkness, masked by a black curtain. The lights in the corner of the arena slowly begin to flicker as everyone draws their attention in its direction. The curtain then raises, revealing a blacked out stage. The large screen above the entrance way then lights up with the half of fame graphic that was shown as a teaser at Adrenaline E58.

A spotlight then casts down onto the stage, illuminating Perry Wallace standing behind a podium. Dressed in a navy blue with silver pinstripe custom tailored suit, Perry looks over the packed Metro Radio Arena crowd. At his side, Kaysie Sherell stands close, dressed in a black dress, tightly snug against her figure and hugging every curve. Turning his head, Perry looks to her briefly before turning back forward and addressing the crowd.

WALLACE: “Good evening ladies and gentlemen. It’s a pleasure to be here tonight as 4CW celebrates it’s third birthday, crossing international boundaries for the first time as Newcastle, England, hosts this magnificent event.”

Looking back to Kaysie, Perry steps slightly to his right, leaving room for her to lean towards the microphone.

SHERELL: “Tonight is a special night for 4CW. Not only do we rejoice this monumental day for 4CW as we celebrate three years, we expand 4CW’s footprint – evolving from what started out as a small territorial promotion into an international powerhouse of the wrestling industry. I would like to thank each and every one of you in attendance tonight for welcoming us to your country with open arms.”

Kaysie then looks to Perry with a nod before taking a step back, opening the floor to him.

WALLACE: “For three long years, 4CW has fought against all odds to get where we are today. It’s been quite a journey, a long road traveled to get here. It wasn’t easy by any means. 4CW has had it’s ups and downs along the way, but with each hardship, we grew stronger, establishing the brand of wrestling that you all place so highly above the competition.

Over the years, we’ve seen a lot of names walk through that curtain and step into a 4CW ring. Some folks have been with us for years, while others have faded out in a matter of weeks. If it wasn’t for the talent that’s walked through that curtain, I can’t truthfully say whether or not we’d have made it this far. To be honest, I know for a fact that if some of the names who have competed in 4CW hadn’t, the majority of you all here tonight wouldn’t even know what 4CW is.”

Grabbing a glass of water sitting on top of the podium, Perry takes a drink. Setting the glass down, he pauses for a short moment, looking over the crowd before breaking the silence.

WALLACE: “We’ve had some big names walk through that curtain, and even bigger legacies left behind upon their departure. We’ve seen multiple win streaks reaching the double digits. We’ve seen a few champions who are still talked about today even though they are no longer signed with 4CW. We even have multi-time champions still currently signed with 4CW. The list of names to choose from is rather large, but for this first 4CW Hall of Fame Class, I wanted to keep this small. I want to make this special so that the classes of the future can grow as this is the highest honor achievable in 4CW.”

Perry’s eyes shift towards the glass of water, he grabs it once more and takes a drink. After placing it back onto the podium, he stares at it for a short moment. His eyes get watery, as the light reflects off of it with a sparkle.

WALLACE: “Of all the names who have competed in a 4CW ring, both past and present 4CW talents, I can only think of one person who deserves this honor more than anyone else with their name in the record books. And before we get too far ahead of ourselves, I just want to make it clear that no one currently active in 4CW will be inducted into the Hall of Fame.”

Reaching up with one hand, he loosens his necktie before undoing the top button of his shirt.

WALLACE: “I can’t think of no other that can stand in comparison to this years first Hall of Fame inductee. We’ve seen streaks, we’ve seen juggernauts, and we’ve seen butchers. Those who have worn masks and others whose faces you all will remember for many years to come.

Our first inductee will always be remembered for making 4CW his stomping grounds for four hundred and sixty-six consecutive days.”

The crowd erupts with cheers at the hint given as Perry’s eyes light up with happiness.

WALLACE: “Being a champion in 4CW is one thing, but being one for four hundred and sixty-six consecutive days is another. That’s monumental in itself! On April twenty-ninth, twenty-fifteen, he won his first ever 4CW championship at South Beach Brawl as he defeated the longest reigning Extreme Champion, Nathaniel Havok. That championship is now known as the XTV as you all know.

On the night of October twenty-eighth, twenty-fifteen, he would then capture an even greater championship when he won the first ever Warzone of Horrors at Fright Night, becoming the 4CW Champion!”

The crowd grows louder and louder before breaking out into a chant.

“The But-cher! … The But-cher! … The But-cher! … The But-cher! … The But-cher!”

Surprised at the reaction given by the England crowd, Perry slowly nods his head before leaning towards the microphone once more.

WALLACE: “He would then be the 4CW Champion until the night of July twenty-seventh, twenty-sixteen.

So, with one hundred and eighty-three days as the Extreme Champion, he then became the 4CW Champion for two hundred and seventy-four days. Winning the 4CW Championship and dropping the Extreme Championship in the same night, that gives him the record of being a champion in 4CW longer than anyone else with four hundred and sixty-six consecutive days. No one else even comes close!”

They continue to chant his name throughout the entire arena as Perry looks on in amazement. Taking another drink from his glass, he wets his lips before setting it back down.

WALLACE: “To top it off, he also held one half of the 4CW Tag Team Championships briefly during that time period.

With a record like that and three 4CW championships to his name, show me one other person who deserves to be recognized in the Hall of Fame over Dakota Smith.

I’ll wait.”

The crowd grows silent as no answer is given by anyone in the crowd.

WALLACE: “That’s what I thought.

As you all know, Dakota suffered an unfortunate ‘accident’ a couple of months back at Fright Night. His body was never recovered and no one has heard from him since. I think we all know what has happened to ‘The Butcher’ whether or not there’s confirmation. With that being said, I’d like to have a moment of silence in his honor.”

Lowering his head, Perry looks down to the podium as silence consumes the entire arena. After a few short moments, he then raises his head before looking over the crowd once more.

WALLACE: “There isn’t a single person no longer with 4CW who deserves this honor more than Dakota. I am honored to have worked with him. Not only was he an employee, but he was also someone I would call a friend. Without further adieu, it’s an honor to name Dakota Smith as the first inductee into the 4CW Hall of Fame, class of twenty-sixteen.”

The screen behind him, above the entrance way, lights up with a picture of Dakota Smith.

At the sight of ‘The Butcher’ on the screen, the crowd rises to their feet with a standing ovation. Looking behind him, Perry nods his head up and down before slowly raising his arm and pointing to the picture. Turning his back to the podium, Perry then slowly begins clapping his hands as the noise level within the arena rises. After a few moments pass, the scene then slowly begins to transition backstage.

There is the exterior of a legal building, standing the in middle of the concrete posts is the blind Lady Justice holding up her scales as she does so well. Just then there is a booming voice over, a nice deep voice to wake you up and get you to pay attention. And there is a number at the bottom of the screen in bright yellow letters.

CALL (888)SUE-THEM or (888)783-8436

Cut in from the outside of that legal building and to the inside where Chris Wrigley is standing in front of the green screen, which continues to show the legal bookshelves we normally see behind Wrigley. However, the big difference here is that Wrigley himself is wearing a thick winter jacket complete with a furry hood over his head, he brings his gloved hands up to his mouth and blows.

WRIGLEY: “Winter got you bummed? Is it cold where you live? Of course it is, we are in the middle of a nasty cold spell and you’re probably stuck in doors buried under three feet of snow right now.

Right?

Wait, is that not the case? What do you mean that it was fifty degrees for Christmas?”

Just then Wrigley takes off the winter coat, the gloves and throws down his knit winter cap as well.

WRIGLEY: “Have you been promised something and not gotten what you were promised? Did you sign up for a wrestling tournament and never get your payment for winning? Guess what? You have rights!

You have the right to get what you were promised. All you have to do is call me, yes, just me. That’s right! I have ditched my former law partners and now am in charge of Wrigley at Law.

Wrigley at Law.

That’s the only name you need to know.”

Wrigley gives a big old smile.

WRIGLEY: “Because if you’ve been told you deserve payment, then you deserve payment. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise, do not let that person continue to ignore you, do not let that person deactivate their Twitter account and never respond!

Let me sue them for you.

You will get your money. That’s the Wrigley at Law promise.”

Big smile from Wrigley and he does the double finger point towards the bottom of the screen and sure enough the phone number once again pops up for you all to begin to write that down.

CALL (888)SUE-THEM or (888)783-8436

Just as the screen is about to black, static takes over and we quickly get a glimpse of Eddie Valentine sitting in a somewhat darkened room with a remote control in his hands, he too gives a smirk towards the camera and then hits the clicker causing the signal to stop and fade into a shiny new advertisement.

UNDERCARD
XTV CHAMPIONSHIP
PRISON ESCAPE MATCH

JOHNNY EVIL VS. SATIVA NEVAEH ©

POWERS: “The following Prison Escape Match will be for the 4CW XTV Championship!”

A guitar string echos the arena before a tribal type of rhythm plays signaling the long instrumental to E Town Concrete’s “Heart Of The Wolves” through the instrumental, a riot squad van backs out onto the stage.

VASSA: “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of that structure the entire night. Well, except for when I had to rush off to the bathroom.”

JOHNSON: “It is quite the structure to say the least. Two cages, one within the other and wrapped in barbed wire at the tops.”

VASSA: “This is going to get messy.”

The back door is pushed open as two armed guards in riot suits help Johnny Evil out of the back of the van. Evil stands shackled at the wrists and ankles as the two guards begin to unlock him from his restraints. He is wearing a “Welcome To Shangri’ La… Now Fall” t-shirt along with red and black tribal grunge designed tights. Evil looks around the arena to the audience’s applause and the roar of their anticipation. Just as the guitar sheds and the lyrics begin the shackles from Johnny’s wrists drop and he steps over the chains raising his arms up and down to hype the 4CW crowd.

“There can be no mercy in the heart of wolves

There can be no shelter in the eye of the storm

Cast into the flames to burn and to die and burn

But instead I found comfort in it’s core”

Evil begins making his way down the ramp as the armed guards hop back into the riot van and close the doors. Looking from side to side, Johnny runs his hand through his hair while continuing his walk to the ring…

POWERS: “From Detroit, Michigan, weighing in at two hundred twenty-four pounds… JOHNNY EEVVIILL!!!”

“Flame, flicker, flicker, flame

Fighting foes you can’t contain

Adversity made me the fighter I learned to be

I yearn to be so far on top that

Through rain or shine or rise or fall I won’t fall short

I’ll win it all. expect me to be the net that is here to catch your fall.”

Johnny Evil gets to ringside and looks up above his head at the Prison Escape structure just hanging. Hopping back and forth in a warm up type of motion he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it into the crowd before sliding into the ring.

VASSA: “Yup, take a long look above you Johnny… This could very well be your last match you ever have!!”

JOHNSON: “Well if Evil is serious about retiring if he loses, then he must be serious about winning!! Either way, this structure will not be a structure that saves careers, that’s for sure!!”

VASSA: “Yea, but obviously it had to come to this…”

Johnny paces around the ring for a moment before climbing up onto the turnbuckles and looking out into the Winter Warzone audience. He points his finger up at the cages above the ring and then points around the arena before hopping back off the turnbuckle and waiting for the match to start.

POWERS: “And the XTV Champion!”

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 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.

JOHNSON: ”Well, I don’t think she’s going to be laughing hysterically after these cages finish lowering, Sativa is in for one hell of a fight!!”

VASSA: “You could be wrong, Sativa is one crazy bitch!! She’s crazy and I love it!!!”

JOHNSON: “We’re going to see just how crazy she is when Johnny Evil wraps his hands around her neck, Vinny!”

DIING!!! DING!!!

After the structure lowers around Sativa and Evil both pace around looking directly in each others eyes with hatred. Sativa reaches her hand out and grabs the fence of the cage around the ring and runs her fingers across it before shaking it. Evil lunges forward and they both lock up. Evil pushes Sativa back against the ropes and wraps his hands around her neck, choking her while she’s leaned against the ropes. Sativa swings her arms and tries to grip Johnny Evils wrists, but is unsuccessful for the moment. Finally Sativa grips and Evils wrists and the two begin to tussle around until she breaks the choke and plants a thumb directly into Johnny Evil’s eye causing him to stumble back blinded a bit.

JOHNSON: “Both of them are starting out testing strength and seeing where each other’s minds are at!”

VASSA: “Yeah, but everybody knows that isn’t what this match is going to turn out to be at the end! There will be blood, and there will be carnage, Steve!!”

She rushes forward and drives an elbow into his stomach causing him to buckle a bit before locking him with a suplex. Sativa lifts Evil, but Evil floats over head and spins landing behind Sativa on his feet, locking her up in a waist lock. He attempts a German Suplex after dodging an elbow from Sativa, but as he releases Sativa rolls over and also lands on her feet. Both Evil and Sativa grin at each other as they pace for a second and lock up again.

JOHNSON: “Back to back reversals from the two!”

Evil whips Sativa into the ropes, causing her to bounce back allowing him to deliver a dropkick to her chest. Sativa hits the mat and Johnny Evil springs to his feet with a hop before diving on top of her and raining down blows across her forehead. As Evil climbs to a knee, he pulls Sativa up to sitting position by her hair in an aggressive manner talking trash before opening his palm and attempting a smack across her face. Sativa blocks this off with her hand and rakes him across the eyes with her other hand.

VASSA: “Don’t you just love it when Sativa talks shit??”

JOHNSON: “I think she should worry about really putting Johnny Evil down instead of the talking trash factor, the time for mind games is over. The bell has rung!!”

They both come to a stand and exchange a couple blows before Sativa gets the better of the exchange and kicks Johnny in his stomach. Sativa backs up before rushing forward and hitting a swinging neckbreaker. With Johnny down, Sativa sits up and comes to a stand before dropping a knee directly across his face. She reaches down and grabs Evil by his hair, pulling him up one knee before running into the ropes and springing back catching him with a running knee to the face. Sativa laughs and starts taunting the audience before making motion for the official to open one of the cage doors. She steps forward and drops an elbow across Johnny’s chest before pulling herself back to her feet and making a slow nonchalant walk to the open door. She goes to crouch down and exit the ring, but Johnny Evil rolls over and grabs her foot, pulling her away and dropping her to the mat instantly rolling onto her and locking in a Detroit Death Clutch.

VASSA: “Evil, you idiot… You can’t win by submission!!”

JOHNSON: “I don’t think that is his intention at all Vinny. His intentions are to hurt Sativa!”

Sativa lets out a yell of pain as Johnny has the hold locked in, but digs her free hand into the canvas and continues a painful climb toward the open cage door. Evil cranks back trying to inflict as much damage as he can while Sativa continues her struggle. As she makes it by the cage door, Johnny breaks the hold and pulls himself to his feet, shaking his head no before reaching out and pulling the cage door shut causing the audience to react.

JOHNSON: “Evil doesn’t want to leave the ring!!”

VASSA: “That was a waste of opening the cage door if you ask me. Each side can only be opened once… Then again, this is the idiot that called the event Winter Warzone instead of Winter Wasteland!”

JOHNSON: ”Yea, I guess it’s just hard to think straight when you’re locked in a prison cell most of the day for over a month?”

Evil signals for the official to padlock that side shut as he reaches down and lifts Nevaeh to her knees. Nevaeh playing possum hits Evil with a low blow causing him to bounce around in pain holding his groin allowing her to stand. As he comes back in Sativa’s direction she locks his head between her arm and drills his skull into the mat with a DDT. Angered at this point that Evil had the door shut, she stands and yells before lifting Johnny to his feet. Sativa pulls Johnny toward the cage and goes to ram his face into the steel. Johnny catches the fencing with one hand to block the impact and drives an elbow into Sativa’s ribcage with his other arm before leaning her forward and ramming the top of her skull into the fencing.

VASSA: “No!! Stop it, Evil!!”

JOHNSON: “Already using the environment to his advantage, I like it!!”

Sativa stumbles holding her head as Johnny Evil catches her with a bionic elbow to the top of the head, this causes her to drop to a knee. Evil locks Sativa’s head up and drives her into the mat with a snap DDT. Sitting up Evil looks over at the corner of the ring before standing up and walking over to the turnbuckle. He starts ascending to the top rope while Sativa rolls onto her back. Once Evil reaches the top rope he looks around and hops into the air with a frog splash, landing directly across Sativa’s chest and stomach. Evil stands and grabs Sativa by her wrist, dragging her into the corner and leaning her against the bottom turnbuckle. He paces to the other side of the ring and then darts forward full sprint diving head first trying to deliver a sliding type of headbutt on Sativa Nevaeh in the corner. Sativa rolls out of the corner at the last possible moment causing Johnny to collide his head against the cage and his shoulder against the ring post.

JOHNSON: “That could have given Johnny Evil a concussion! What in the heck were you thinking Evil?”

VASSA: “I would tell you he wasn’t thinking! You would turn around and tell me he was thinking about injuring Sativa!! Either way, what he did was plain fucking stupid!!!”

Sativa uses the ropes to pull herself to standing position, she looks toward one of the cage doors and thinks for a moment, but something stops her, causing her to stalk Johnny as he rolls around in pain. Reaching down, Sativa grips Johnny under his arm and pulls him to his feet, giving him a chop to the chest as she stands him up. This causes Johnny to fall backward and lean against the ropes and the cage wall. Sativa runs into the ropes and rebounds back in Evil’s direction using her momentum to hit a basement style dropkick on Johnny against the cage wall. With Johnny still propped up sitting groggy on the mat against the cage, Sativa backs up and darts forward once more hitting a sliding elbow across his throat.

VASSA: “Oh no, Johnny’s throat won’t be the same in prison after that one!”

JOHNSON: “Don’t those gay prison jokes get a little old? You know, not everybody that goes to jail gets raped!!”

VASSA: “Try telling Sativa that!”

Gaining her breath for a moment she comes to a stand reaches down pulling Evil to his feet, spinning him around and locking him in a belly to back suplex, sending him crashing to the mat. After Sativa stands she signals for the official to open another door, but Johnny Evil rolls onto his stomach hurt and winded grabbing her foot. Sativa kicks his grip away and shakes her head totally ignoring the chance to escape.

JOHNSON: “Evil just won’t stay down and it’s frustrating Sativa to the point where she’s missing her chance to exit the cage!!”

VASSA: “Yea, but we knew the match could go like this. It’s too personal for all that!!”

Sativa reaches down and pulls Evil to his feet backing him into the corner of the ring. Sativa delivers an elbow to his feet and rushes back before darting forward attempting to hit a splash on Johnny Evil in the corner. Before she can, Johnny pushes himself from the corner and levels her with a clothesline. Both Johnny and Sativa lay on the mat for a moment.

VASSA: “He almost decapitated Sativa with that clothesline!”

JOHNSON: “Both Sativa and Johnny are down. That was pure desperation from Johnny Evil!!”

Johnny pulls himself to his feet, using the ring ropes as a crutch before reaching down and gripping Sativa’s legs locking them up and slingshotting her into the cage wall. Sativa reaches out and grips the cage upon impact, holding onto the cage wall. Evil sees this when he turns around and delivers a clubbing blow to her back before springboarding himself from the second rope and hopping up onto her back. He pulls her arms from the cage locking them up and executing a Straight Jacket Backstabber as they crash to the mat.

JOHNSON: “Lethal Injection!!”

VASSA: “Yeah, but it’s too little, too late… The official is already closing that second cage door!!”

Both Sativa and Evil crawl around the ring in pain desperately trying an exhausted stand. Both rising to their feet at the same exact time, Sativa fires a right hand which Johnny blocks off, wrapping Sativa up and placing her over his head, driving her down with a Death Valley Driver head first onto the canvas. As Sativa rolls onto around in pain, Johnny waits until she’s on her back and delivers a standing moonsault across her chest. As Evil pulls himself to a knee, he signals for the third door to be open.

VASSA: “The third door is opened, if this one gets closed and padlocked, there is only one remaining!”

JOHNSON: “Yea, and then after that, both Johnny and Sativa will have to sacrafice their bodies climbing over the razor wire at the top of the cage!”

Standing up, Johnny Evil starts walking toward the cage door, but thinks for a moment and backtracks toward Sativa who is frantically trying to stand. He reaches down and grabs Sativa’s wrist, pulling her toward the cage door. Evil hangs Sativa’s arm outside the cage door and reaches out, slamming the cage door on her arm a few times, causing her to grip it in pain and roll onto her back. Evil prowls around behind her before grabbing her arm again and placing it on the ring mat. Jumping into the air, Evil delivers a double foot stomp onto Sativa Nevaeh’s arm.

JOHNSON: “Wow, that’s a smart strategy taking place by Johnny Evil right now, take out Sativa’s arm so she can’t climb that outer cage!!”

VASSA: “Johnson, stop kissing Evil’s ass. It’s horrible what he’s doing to Sativa Nevaeh right now!!”

Johnny reaches down and grips Sativa’s hair, pulling her to standing position. He wraps his arm around her neck, locking her in a suplex set up. Johnny goes to lift Sativa up, but Sativa fights it off and lifts backward with everything she has, dropping Johnny Evil back first to the canvas with a Northern Lights Suplex. Both competitors at this point lay exhausted as time runs out and the official closes and begins to padlock the third door to the cage.

VASSA: ”Well, the third cell door has been padlocked, there is only one door left to open!”

JOHNSON: “I kind of figured it would go down like this anyway.”

Sativa sits up from the mat first and shakes her arm around, trying to nullify the pain from Evil’s previous attack on it. She grips her hands into the mat and pulls herself to a knee looking over at Johnny Evil. After standing up, she reaches down and pulls Johnny to his feet, tossing him against the cage wall. Johnny hits the cage face first and stumbles back, spinning in Sativa’s direction, getting caught with a quick cutter out of nowhere.

VASSA: “Got Em!! HAHA… Evil got, got!!”

Sativa lays on the mat looking around while Johnny Evil rolls onto his back. Sativa rolls over and begins climbing to her feet, Standing up, she reaches down and grabs Johnny while yelling some harsh words. As she stands him up she swings a wild right at his face which he ducks, locking her in a full nelson, sending her dropping backward with a dragon suplex. Evil keeps it locked in, struggling to stand to his feet almost toppling as he pulls her back up. Evil digs down deep and follows it up, by releasing the full nelson and locking his hands around Sativa’s waist sending her back to the mat once more with a German suplex.

JOHNSON: “I don’t know how either of them are still going. We thought this would start out as a brutal brawl, but it’s been a grueling technical wrestling match combined with strikes!!”

VASSA: “Neither of them want to lose isn’t it obvious stupid, stupid Johnson?”

Both begin a slow paced painful crawl to their feet, getting up at about the same time. Evil steps forward and fires a left hand which Sativa blocks, Sativa drills and elbow into Johnny Evil’s stomach, causing him to buckle. Sativa locks Evils head under her arm and runs forward hopping into the air and springing her feet off the cage, twisting and driving him face first to the canvas with a springboard bulldog. Pulling herself up, she backs up into the corner and waits for Johnny Evil to climb to both knees. Sativa rushes forward and goes for a shining wizard, but Evil grabs her foot and flips her to the mat. As she struggles to stand, Johnny climbs to his feet. Johnny takes a couple steps back smirking as he falls back in the corner sizing Sativa Nevaeh up.

JOHNSON: “Oh no, this is what he did to Dave!”

VASSA: “Is he really going to try and punt kick our deranged XTV Champion in the face? Evil. you bastard… don’t do it!”

Evil rushes forward for the punt-kick, but Sativa spins out of the way and stands at the last second running toward the cage wall. As Evil spins in Sativa’s direction, she jumps up and plants her foot against the cage wall, flipping backward and connecting with a Nerf This, her version of the Pele Kick. Evil falls to the mat, while Sativa digs her hands into the canvas and signals for the final cage door to be opened.

VASSA: “Yes, get out of the ring Sativa, Johnny is finished!!”

JOHNSON: “Sativa now making a slow crawl toward the door!!”

Sativa continues her slow crawl toward the door. Evil looks up from laying on his stomach and notices this, reaching out for her foot. He grips it, but Sativa shakes his hand off and continues her climb, causing Evil to begin climbing in pursuit behind her. Sativa starts crawling under the bottom rope out of the door into the ringside area. Evil reaches her and grabs onto her leg, but again Sativa shakes it off before falling out to ringside area. Johnny crawls forward and makes it out of the cage door a bit, before Sativa climbs to her knees and pushes the official aside, gripping the cage door and swinging it back into Johnny’s head, knocking him back into the ring. Quickly Sativa grips the padlock from the official and locks the cage door shut as Evil looks at her.

JOHNSON: “That door could have stayed open for another twenty seconds or so!”

VASSA: “Well, Sativa isn’t taking any chances, and it’s a very smart move on her end!!”

Sativa taunts for a moment as Evil uses the ropes to pull himself to a painful stand. Sativa now outside the ring makes her attempt to climb the second cage with Johnny Evil still locked inside the ring. Taking notice Evil grips the cage around the ring and begins a panic climb. Slowly and almost arrogantly, Sativa continues to climb the second cage.

JOHNSON: “Sativa is going to retain! Evil hasn’t even made it out of the ring!!”

VASSA: ”I told you, Sativa would win… It doesn’t matter how personal it is to Johnny Evil, Nevaeh wants to bring greatness back to the XTV Championship!!”

JOHNSON: “Wait, hold up… not so fast!!”

Johnny makes his way to the top of the first cage, with no regard for his body cutting his arms up as he pulls himself to a stand through the razor wire. He jumps from the first cage and latches himself on Sativa’s back, causing her to lose her footing, hanging onto the second cage now with just her hands. Evil locks Sativa in a sleeper hold while she hangs out from the cage and then swings to the side of her, now locking her into a Russian leg sweep and pulling her from the cage, causing both of them to fall from the second cage through the table of weapons below to the ringside floor.

“HOLY SHIT!!! … HOLY SHIT!!! … HOLY SHIT!!! … HOLY SHIT!!! … HOLY SHIT!!!”

VASSA: “Holy Shit, Johnson!!”

JOHNSON: “I don’t care what you say, Vassa. I don’t care how much hell Sativa puts Johnny through!! Johnny Evil is my pick to come back and win this match and I’m sticking to it!!!”

Both Sativa and Johnny lay on the ringside floor beaten down and exhausted with very little movement as the audience roars. With the table broken, various weapons are now scattered at ringside, everything from a bed-pan to a loose forty-five pound free weight. Johnny is the first to motion, rolling onto his stomach and gripping onto the apron doing a painful climb to his feet. As he stands, Sativa now begins to motion herself around as she begins the same painful climb, trying to use the cage wall as a crutch. Evil stumbles forward and grabs her by the back of her head, smashing her face against the cage.

JOHNSON: “I have a feeling this is where things are going to get violent!!”

VASSA: “As Maddox Lucien would say, I am Violence… Rest In Piss Lucien, Evil may have broke your neck, but nobody cares!”

Sativa stumbles back and rests back first upon the apron as Evil reaches down and grabs a cheese-grater. He lunges forward and drives it into Sativa’s forehead, twisting it in a grinding motion, causing her to scream in pain. As Evil tosses the cheese-grater to the side, blood begins to flow from a wound on Sativa’s forehead, trickling down her face. Johnny Evil then grabs her again and smashes her head against the cage wall once more.

VASSA: “Oh no… Sativa’s been busted open! Evil you are more fucked up than Chris Brown beating on a woman like that!!”

JOHNSON: “You know what, I don’t think Evil really cares, nor does Sativa for that matter. They both knew what’s at stake… This is extreme 4CW at it’s best!!”

Sativa begins to stumble away, making her way around the caged in ringside area in a groggy manner. Evil smirks as he reaches down and lifts up the free-weight. Rushing forward, Johnny tries to level Sativa with the weight, but Sativa scouts it and hits him with a drop toe hold, causing him to crash down upon the weight and the steel steps with his own momentum. Sativa slowly stands and stomps Evil across the back a couple times before wiping the blood from her face. She walks back toward the scattered weapons across the ringside floor and reaches down grabbing a glass jar of pickles. As Evil stands and turns around trying to shake the grogginess off, Sativa Nevaeh Rushes forward and breaks the glass jar of pickles over the top of Evil’s head before collapsing to the floor herself.

“HOLY SHIT! … HOLY SHIT! … HOLY SHIT! … HOLY SHIT! … HOLY SHIT!”

JOHNSON: “My god!! Sativa just shattered that glass jar of pickles over Johnny Evil’s head!!”

VASSA: “I don’t know whats worse for Evil, having that glass jar busted over his head or the fact that he’s now covered with pickle juice??”

Both lay on the floor for a moment before Sativa slowly stands to her feet. She leans down and begins removing the outside mat padding to expose the concrete floor, before lifting Johnny Evil slowly to his feet. Evil now has blood dripping down his face, causing Sativa to gouge her nails into the open wound on the top of his head. Sativa pulls Evil forward and locks his head between her arm before applying double underhooks and driving him down onto the concrete floor with a butterfly DDT. Taking a breather on the floor for a moment, Sativa pulls herself up using the ring apron and then looks over at the cage wall before stumbling toward it.

VASSA: “Come on Nevaeh, you can do it!!”

JOHNSON: “Evil may be out of it!! That cut can’t be good, but we knew this thing would get bloody and it hasn’t disappointed. Both Sativa and Evil are wearing a mask of crimson!!”

Sativa reaches out and grabs the cage wall, giving it everything she’s got. She begins a very exhausted and somewhat groggy climb. Sativa looks down at Evil laying on the ringside floor before reaching upward and pulling herself slowly up the cage a bit more. Still in pain she can’t seems to gather momentum in her climb having difficulty pulling herself up. Evil rolls onto his stomach and looks toward the wall. Causing him to reach his hand out and grips the fencing, using it to try and help him stand. At this point Sativa digs down deep and moves another couple inches up the cage wall. Evil gets to a stand and reaches up grabbing Sativa’s foot, only to have her shake his grip.

JOHNSON: “I don’t know how either of them can continue??”

VASSA: “Well, I’m not sure Evil’s going to be able to stop Sativa at this point, she’s already more than halfway up the cage wall??”

Johnny begins to grip the fencing and shake it, causing Sativa to grow frustrated on her climb, almost causing her to slip before he reaches out and climbs onto the cage wall himself. As Evil gets into reach he gives Sativa a couple hammerfists to her back before attempting to climb up the cage a bit more. He reaches the same height as Sativa on the cage wall and Sativa tosses an elbow in his direction slightly grazing his face. Evil throws an elbow of his own at Sativa and advances a bit past her. She reaches out and grabs Evils leg, swinging it from the cage, causing Johnny to sway on the cage wall with his feet dangling. Johnny uses this position to swing his legs and knee her in the ribs before regaining his footing. With Evil now a bit over Sativa on the cage, he turns himself sideways a bit and pushes himself from the cage wall, gripping Sativas waist as he does locking onto her back and executing a flip-piledriver from the cage landing it into a Fall From Shangri’La crashing down onto the ringside floor.

VASSA: “What in the fuck did we just see? Evil is simply not human, he’s half spider-monkey!!”

JOHNSON: ”I said it before and I’ll say it again, no company has the type of athletic talent 4CW has!!”

Both lay motionless on the ringside floor once more and at this point, the audience lets off a huge filter of boos as they give notice to Dyslexic Dave in a neckbrace who has walked out onto the stage cradling Johnny Evil’s daughter in his arms. Dave begins slowly making his way down the entrance ramp, rocking baby Rhiannon in his arms. By the time he makes it to the cage Evil and Sativa are starting to motion, rolling and crawling around on the floor in pain. Walking around the cage, Dyslexic Dave makes his way to the time-keeper’s table and snatches the 4CW XTV Championship.

JOHNSON: Dave, what in the heck do you think you’re doing!! Don’t do this, you’re ruining an epic match!!”

VASSA: “If Evil didn’t want Dave to interfere, he shouldn’t have attacked the poor guy on Adrenaline!! You heard Perry Wallace, he told Evil to leave the dyslexic guy alone… he’s not a wrestler!!”

Dave places Rhiannon in the time-keepers lap unannounced and grips the XTV Championship with both hands, swinging it upward and tossing it into the air, causing it to go over the cage wall and land inside the area where Sativa and Evil are beginning to climb to their feet. Afterward, he picks Rhiannon up from the time-keeper’s lap. As Evil stands, Dave get’s his attention allowing Sativa to stand and grab the XTV Championship. With Evil enraged he reaches out to grab the cage to climb over and get to Dave but before he even can, Sativa clocks him in the back of the head with the XTV Championship belt. As Johnny falls to the floor, Dave leans in with Rhiannon toward the cage wall. Sativa then drops onto Evil and begins to pummel him in the back of his cranium with the XTV Championship while laughing.

VASSA: “Look, Rhiannon is watching her daddy get beaten to a pulp!!”

JOHNSON: “That’s messed up, Vassa! I can’t believe that you would even condone this!!”

VASSA: “What, they knew what they signed up for in this match… both of them!!”

JOHNSON: “Yeah, they did and it sure as hell wasn’t Johnny’s infant daughter watching her dad being beaten down!!!”

Sativa gives Evil a few more cracks to the back of the skull with XTV Championship before standing to her feet and holding the belt up with one arm to an onslaught of dissatisfying boo’s. The face plate to the belt is covered in Evil’s blood and Sativa looks at it as she smirks, before she drops down and rolls Johnny Evil onto his back, taunting him with the title. The emotion is high as Dave leans Rhiannon closer to the cage. Evil reaches out toward Rhiannon as Sativa drops the title and begins kicking him in his ribs.

JOHNSON: “This is just sickening!! WAIT!!”

VASSA: “Oh No, Dave… Run!!”

The crowd erupts as Adrian Tanner Jr comes darting down the entrance ramp and has seen enough. Dave takes notice and as Tanner makes it to ringside, Dave books around the cage. Tanner gives chase to Dave who still has baby Rhiannon clenched in his arms, running back up the ramp to get out of dodge with Adrian in pursuit behind him. At this point, the match comes back into focus and Sativa lift Evil to his feet, smashing him face first against the cage. Causing him to stumble back and fall against the second table of weapons. Feeling like she’s done enough damage Sativa reaches out and begins to climb the outer cage.

VASSA: “There is no way in hell Evil comes back from that!!”

JOHNSON: “I’m afraid you might be right, Vassa! Not only was he screwed over from beating JPD at Fright Night, but he’s also been screwed over again tonight!! This time much more was at stake!!!”

Sativa starts making it up the cage content with the damage done as Evil is still leaned across the table. Evil tries to use the table as a crutch to stand, but falls back and is almost laid out across the table. Sativa notices this as she reaches the top of the cage. She looks down at Evil before looking up at the razor wire. With no care for her hands she starts pulling the razor wire aside and climbs onto the second cage in standing position. She looks to the floor for a moment and then looks at Evil who is laid across the table. Sativa hops into the air and executes a Leaf On The Wind onto Johnny Evil from the top of the cage crashing through the second table!

“HOLY SHIT! … HOLY SHIT! … HOLY SHIT! … HOLY SHIT! … HOLY SHIT!”

JOHNSON: “I doubt either of them will be able to climb out after that!!”

VASSA: “No, Sativa… what did you just do? The point was to win, I know it’s personal but why?!?!”

Both Sativa and Johnny lay motionless again, beaten and exhausted from the toll this match has taken on them. The table broken underneath them and the weapons scattered all over the place. The officials look on not knowing whether they should stop the match or not. For a moment neither of them move. It is Sativa making the first motion as she rolls onto her back, holding her stomach. She reaches out and grabs the cage, pulling herself to a knee. She looks over at Evil who has now rolled onto his stomach and is crawling upon the steel steps, trying to pull himself up in any way possible.

VASSA: “Somehow this is still going! This match needs to be stopped!!”

JOHNSON: ”No matter how you look at it, even after this match win or lose… two careers could have come to an end here tonight!!”

As Sativa stands she reaches out toward Johnny Evil, grabbing him by the hair to spin him around and roll him over onto the steps, but as she does, Johnny throws a wild swing upward, cracking her across the face with a Holy Bible wrapped in barbed wire, with light-bulbs wedged between the wrapping, causing the light bulbs to shatter in Sativa’s face as she stumbles back holding her eyes in pain.

JOHNSON: “What in the world was that?!”

VASSA: “That’s the type of shit you go to war with in prison! I seent it on TV before.”

JOHNSON: “What king of stuff are you watching?”

Johnny then moves in and grabs onto Sativa, both hands locked onto her head. Dragging her to the cage, he then slams her head forward. Throwing both arms up, Sativa’s hands grab onto the cage, stopping the momentum of her head just inches before he face collides with the cage. She then reaches into her hair and pulls out a shard of glass from the lightbulbs bound to the bible. Swinging downward with it, she stabs it into the side of Evil’s leg. Howling loudly, Evil screams from the pain as it shoots up his body. The camera then zooms in to focus on Evil’s leg, bloodied with a piece of glass lodged into it.

VASSA: “WHAT THE FUCK?!?!”

JOHNSON: “OH MY!!!”

Ripping her head away from Evil’s grip, Sativa then grabs onto the back of his head before slamming him face first into the cage. She then pulls him away from the cage and drags him towards the ring before throwing him back first into the steps. Holding his hand over the gash in his leg, Evil tries to pull the glass out but can’t as the pain is too much to tolerate. Seeing an opportunity to strike, Sativa then limps over and stomps down onto the shard of glass, lodging it even deeper into his thigh.

JOHNSON: “This is just insane at this point!”

VASSA: “All we need now is a full riot from everyone in the arena to top this match off.”

Sativa then scans the floor for the XTV Championship before locking her eyes on it at the opposite side of the apron. Limping in its direction, she finally stands over it before leaning down slowly and pulling it up from the floor. Sativa limps her way back over to Evil who is for the most part out of it due to the amount of pain running through his body. Sativa then wraps the championship around his head, with the face plate pressed against his face. Pulling Evil up from the floor, she then turns him around steps in beside him, turning him to face the steps. Falling forward, Sativa slams Evil’s face onto the steps with a forward Russian leg sweep as the entire arena cringes at the sight.

VASSA: “At this rate, someone is going to be leaving here tonight in a body bag, if not both.”

JOHNSON: “Evil isn’t moving. Sativa may have just finished him off for good.”

Unwrapping the championship from Evil’s head, Sativa then tosses it over her shoulder before turning to the cage and limping over to it. Reaching upward, she pulls herself up before placing her feet to the structure and slowly making her way to the top.

JOHNSON: “She’s making the climb finally and I think this time it may be to leave the cage.”

VASSA: “What makes you think that?”

JOHNSON: “She’s taking the XTV Championship with her.”

After finally making it to the top of the cage, Sativa tosses the belt over the barbed wire and then crawls over it, preventing as many cuts to her flesh as she can, although still getting sliced up from the sides by the razor wire. As she rolls over the top of the cage and razor wire, she latches onto the belt before falling over to her side and down to the floor, outside of the cage with a thud.

VASSA: “Sativa has escaped! She’s climbed out of the cage!”

JOHNSON: “She wasn’t able to do so in one piece though.”

VASSA: “It doesn’t matter! She’s escaped and by doing so she’s won the match, retained the XTV Champion, and won custody over that sweet little baby.”

From inside of the structure, the official signals for the bell before pointing to a member of the ringside crew to make the call on raising the structure. As the cages rise up from the floor, “Fucking in the Bushes” hits the speakers as the bell finally sounds.

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

With enough clearance to pass underneath, the official races over to Sativa, covered in blood from head to toe. Kneeling down beside her, he then raises her arm into the air, almost holding up the dead weight of it before Sativa collapses backwards to the floor with the championship draped over her body.

POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen, here is your winner and still 4CW XTV Champion… SATIVA NNEEVVAAEEHH!!!”

Medical staff rush down to ringside, splitting in two groups to assist with Sativa and Evil. Blood surrounds the entire area like a crime scene straight out of a horror film. Debris is scattered across the floor, various weapons laid out, and pieces of the wrestlers attire ripped in shreds.

JOHNSON: “This was absolutely insane! We knew it was going to be a brutal match but I never imagined it would be like this.”

VASSA: “These two literally came out here tonight and battled like gladiators.”

JOHNSON: “We haven’t had an XTV match like this in a very, very long time.”

VASSA: “Sativa said that she was going to bring this division back to what it once was. Tonight was one hell of a way to start.”

JOHNSON: “I can’t help but feel sorry for Johnny Evil with how this all turned out.”

VASSA: “Why’s that? The man is a criminal!”

JOHNSON: “He was locked in a cell and secluded from the outside world against his will – all over a simple mistake that happened in the ring.”

VASSA: “He lost it all tonight. He didn’t win the XTV Championship. He lost his freedom. More importantly, he lost his daughter.”

JOHNSON: “This just isn’t right! Sativa has no right stealing his child away from him!”

VASSA: “HE PUT THE ADOPTION PAPERS ON THE LINE HIMSELF!!!”

JOHNSON: “He was forced to feel there was no other choice! You try being locked away li–“

Cutting Steve off in mid-sentence, the crowd begins to stir as everyone’s attention draws up the ramp and to the entrance way.

VASSA: “We have company!”

JOHNSON: “Is that? Is th–“

VASSA: “It’s Perry Wallace!”

Walking to the center of the stage, Perry looks down the ramp at the wreckage left at ringside. With his hands on his hips, he looks to the crowd on both sides of him before a smile comes to his face. Sativa leans up, looking at the stage in disgust at the sight of Perry. The two then lock eyes as Perry raises his arm, extending his index finger and pointing at her.

VASSA: “This is it! Perry’s come for payback!”

JOHNSON: “He waited until the perfect time to strike – when she’s at her weakest!”

Out from the entrance, a team of security follows behind. Eight bodies then surround Perry as he stands at the top of the stage. The arena then roars as one last member of security walks out from the curtain, holding baby Rhiannon in his arms.

VASSA: “It’s little baby Rhiannon!”

JOHNSON: “But where’s Dave?!”

VASSA: “He isn’t out here with the kid, that’s for sure! I’m going to guess that Adrian Tanner finally caught up with him.”

JOHNSON: “That would be a safe bet.”

Sativa begins to boil with anger as she pulls on a member of the medical staff team to get to her feet. Perry then steps forward, walking down the entrance ramp as the team of security follows closely behind. Falling back to her knees, Sativa can’t even stand. She watches closely as Perry gets closer and closer, until stopping just feet in front of her. The two share a long stare, no words exchanged between the two.

JOHNSON: “I can’t believe this is happening. Who knew that Perry would actually come get his revenge after being laid out by Sativa months ago?”

VASSA: “He has an entire squad of security with him. This isn’t going to end well for Sativa.”

Perry then holds his hand up before snapping his fingers. At the sound, four members of the security team step forward and surround Sativa, pulling her up from the floor. Tired and weak, Sativa is unable to put up a fight as she begins hissing at Perry as he looks on, enjoying the sight.

VASSA: “This just isn’t fair! Face her like a man Perry! She just went through Hell and back and you come out here with your own goon squad!”

Finally coming to his senses, Evil leans up and looks at the confrontation. At that moment, his heart begins racing at the sight of his daughter. He fights to get to his feet as medical staff urge him to remain seated. Perry then laughs at Sativa as he looks her in the eyes before turning away from her and looking to Evil. He then steps past the security team holding Sativa as she begins sighting to break free, just unable to do so with the numbers and her state of health.

The team of security follows behind, baby Rhiannon being at the end of the line. Sativa calls to her, like a desperate mother watching as something terrible happens to her child. Perry then comes to a stop in front of Evil. He then points to him, signaling two members of the security team to assist him to his feet.

JOHNSON: “What’s he doing now?!”

VASSA: “Evil did reveal some truth about the whole Maddox Lucien ordeal.”

JOHNSON: “I’m still not buying that! We need answers from Jack Vaughn.”

Stepping beside Perry, the security member holding Rhiannon stands just feet in front of Evil. His heart breaks at the sight of his daughter just feet in front of him. Perry then pulls out a microphone from his jacket pocket.

WALLACE: “So, I guess this is where you go back to prison since your freedom was on the line in this match?”

The crowd begins to boo heavily as Perry looks Evil in the eye, asking him the question.

WALLACE: “I just want to know one thing. Why?”

A confused look comes to Evil’s face as the camera zooms in to read his lips “why what?”

WALLACE: “Why are you trying to set me up? Answer me!”

Turning his head to the side, Perry looks at Rhiannon before gently rubbing his hand across the top of her head. He then turns back to Evil, pleading his case but holds a hand up to silence him.

WALLACE: “It’s okay. I know that cornered animals will do anything to save their own asses. That’s exactly what you’ve become over the recent months ever since being locked away in a six by nine. You want your freedom. You want your daughter back. I totally understand your reasoning, but I honestly don’t believe it was your idea.

No. Jack Vaughn is looking for payback. He knows that I can’t just fire him due to his contract unless something drastic were to happen. But with me out of the way, that would leave him in charge of the company that I built! I just can’t let that happen. Here’s what’s going to happen, but first…”

Holding his other hand up, Perry waits a short moment before a member of the security team places a folder in his palm. Sorting through a few papers inside, Perry pulls out the release papers, the key to Evil’s freedom.

WALLACE: “Adessi told you that I have your release papers. Your future and freedom rests in the palm of my hand. I know you were originally supposed to be granted freedom upon winning this match tonight, but I’m going to grant your request anyway.”

Not far away, Sativa grows angry, screaming as she kicks to break free, unable to do so.

WALLACE: “I can’t have you locked away for an accident that happened in the ring. It just wouldn’t sit well with me.”

Perry then hands the microphone aside to a member of the security team before pulling an ink pen out from the inside pocket of his jacket. Holding the folder up with the release paper on top, Perry then signs it.

JOHNSON: “Johnny Evil is going to be a free man after all.”

Perry then holds the paper up before turning it around and showing it to Evil. A look of relief comes over Evil’s face as his eyes scan the paper. Perry then places it back inside of the folder before putting his ink pen back in his jacket pocket. Grabbing the microphone from the member of security, he then raises it to his mouth.

WALLACE: “Lucky for you, I know friends in high places, people higher up the chain of command than Adessi. As of this moment, you’re now a free man.”

Evil begins thanking Perry as he can barely stand on his own free will. Covered in blood, he then turns to look at Rhiannon as tears begin forming in his eyes.

WALLACE: “And then we have your daughter. Tell me something. How could you be so stupid? Why would you put the adoption papers for your daughter on the line in a match like this? Sativa had no right to claim your child as her own.”

Evil explains his case, unheard by all those watching. The camera then zooms in as his lips say “I had no choice.” Shaking his head, Perry then raises the microphone up once more.

WALLACE: “There’s always a choice. As a matter of fact, you now have another choice to make. You and I both know damn well that Jack Vaughn is trying to set me up. You know this! What happened in the ring that night on Adrenaline was an accident. It wasn’t a planned hit or anything. I’m not that terrible of a person.

We all have choices in life and I’m going to present one more to you to make things right. You’re going to help me prove that this is all one big set up. You’re going to clear my name once and for all from this bullshit. And as a token of my appreciation for doing so, I have one more surprise for you.”

Perry then searches through the folder before pulling out the adoption papers for baby Rhiannon. Holding them up in front of Evil’s face, it causes Evil to emotionally break down. Looking on, a smile comes to Sativa’s face.

WALLACE: “What I have here are the adoption papers that you consented to. By not winning here tonight, Sativa rightfully has custody to your own flesh and blood. Unfortunately for her, there’s only one copy of this to prove that.

Fuck that.”

Perry then rips the papers in half right before Evil’s eyes. Across the ringside area, Sativa begins yelling as she fights to break free from the members of security. Overpowering her, they hold her in place as she kicks and yells to Perry. Evil watches in happiness as Perry continues ripping the papers to shreds. Pieces of paper cover the floor at their feet until the final piece floats down onto the pile now soaked in blood.

WALLACE: “No more games. No more bullshit. Help me clear my name.”

And with that, Perry turns his back to Evil. The member of security holding Rhiannon steps forward, and stands beside Evil, holding the baby. Kicking and screaming, Sativa continue trying to break free but can’t. Perry then approaches her as the remaining members of security stand behind, keeping themselves between Sativa and Evil. Making his way towards the ramp, Perry stops in front of Sativa and turns to her. Hacking up a mouthful of saliva, Sativa spits it onto Perry’s shoulder. Shaking his head in disappointment, Perry then raises the mic to his lips one last time.

WALLACE: “This right here, you and me, this shit isn’t finished by a long shot. Enjoy the win, champ.”

Perry then turns his back to Sativa before proceeding up the ramp. Something strange then happens, the crowd begins to cheer at the good deed done by Perry and the heart warming moment of Evil being reunited with his daughter. Leaving it all behind him, Perry finally makes it to the ramp, stopping in his tracks and standing all alone. He then turns back one last time with a smile on his face, a feeling of doing something good in his heart. He then leaves it all behind as he disappears through the curtain.

VASSA: “Did Perry just do the right thing?”

JOHNSON: “For once I think the answer to that question is yes.”

VASSA: “Not only is Johnny Evil a free man, he also has his daughter back.”

JOHNSON: “I don’t think this is going to sit well with Sativa.”

VASSA: “She retained the XTV Championship. She’ll be fine, maybe.”

JOHNSON: “What did Perry mean when he told her that this isn’t finished by a long shot?”

VASSA: “These two have had mutual feelings of hate for one another for over a year now. When she first came back to 4CW, what did she do?”

JOHNSON: “She set her sights on Perry and laid him out with a baseball bat.”

VASSA: “She isn’t alone though! Sativa has a group of people with her, all aligned together.”

JOHNSON: “With what we saw earlier in the evening, Perry’s ‘son’ is now a part of that group.”

VASSA: “Bronx has returned but is aligned with the person his father dislikes the most. How is that going to play out?”

JOHNSON: “I guess we’re just going to have to wait and see.”

VASSA: “The shit just keeps building and building. Why can’t everyone just get along!?”

JOHNSON: “This is a competitive sport centered around violence. What more do you expect?”

VASSA: “You do make a good point.”

JOHNSON: “I always do. But anyways, folks, we’re going to go backstage while this mess is cleaned up here at ringside. Up next, we have our headline match for the Pride Championship!”

FIGURE: “People call me a lot of things…”

The tires of the limousine popped as it pulled up to the corner of an arena. The people who were outside immediately turned as two men in suits hurried up to open the door. Camera’s flashed as a figure emerged from the back seat, pulling his suit jacket onto his torso as he popped the collar gently before letting it settle.

FIGURE: “I’ve been called a loser, a troll, a failure, a choke artist, nothing more than one hundred and forty characters of nonsense. I’ve been called banned, suspended, a waste…”

A man’s voice spoke as hands outstretched like zombies trying to peel off fresh skin off of a skeleton as the figure walked up between two barricades. The mysterious being let his fingertips trail to their side. Some got just a touch of the well dressed person, other’s could only watch, scream and take pictures.

FIGURE: “But for every person who have had something to say. Not many of them have ever been able top shut me up…And I already know what is coming…”

It was apparent the fans hadn’t been let in the arena yet, because as this said person walked, not a soul met him. Only two people stood before him, in red suit jackets that opened up two doors for him.

FIGURE: “The hate will continue. The same fart and dick jokes from twenty-thirteen will be spewed. People will say I ran away and I will revert them back to this promo. The last time I stepped foot in a 4CW arena…I was -this- close to winning a tournament that would have put me at the top of this company…”

The glossy dress shoes stepped from the fabric in the lobby onto the hard, marble like floors and his footsteps echoed as he made his way down the steps and toward the 4CW wrestling ring. His pace was slow, methodical. With his back turned he surveyed the landscape and gently popped his jacket open for a moment.

FIGURE: “I’ve returned to claim what is rightfully mine…The top of the mountain.”

He took the first step with authority, and as he walked the camera spiraled around to show his still blurred face, like the camera wasn’t completely in focus. What was in focus was the many paraphernalia which was dropped over each seat on the side where he walked, they all read: GENERATION NOW.

FIGURE: “Because this generation isn’t about rip offs and old jokes. This generation isn’t about kissing ass and sucking dick for a title shot. This generation is about taking what they want, this generation is about being the best, and believe me. I am the best…In the game. This generation? Is now.”

The man leaped over the barricade and slowly walked up the ring steps, bouncing on his heels as he turned his body and crawled through the ropes before looking at the high backed chair in the ring. Draped over the back was a Generation Now t-shirt. From the pocket of the man, a long cigar was produced and placed between the lips of his dark face. A match was struck to life and that was the only thing that was able to light the face of… Bronx Valescence. Twirling the cigar in his finger tips, Bronx produced a wide grin.

VALESCENCE: “IT. ME.”

Bronx reached back and draped the Generation Now shirt over both of his shoulders so it hung around his neck like a towel as he crossed his legs and stared menacingly forward.

VALESCENCE: “And I’m going to finish what I started, and this time…I’m not alone.”

The lights went down into darkness.

HEADLINE
PRIDE CHAMPIONSHIP
SUBMISSION ONLY ELIMINATION MATCH

JASON CASHE VS. GENEVIE CARLSON VS.
PERSEPHONE MARQUIS VS. BRYAN WILLIAMS ©

JOHNSON: “Tonight has been exciting thus far and things are only going to get more and more exciting from this point on.”

VASSA: “Tonight has been lit! That Prison Escape Match was unbelievable! I still can’t believe how things ended with it.”

JOHNSON: “Up next we have the Pride Championship match which will be a submission only elimination match.”

VASSA: “This just sounds terrible for everyone involved. Elimination matches are bad enough without having the submission stipulation involved.”

JOHNSON: “This has been called the ultimate test of endurance over the last few days.”

VASSA: “Their bodies are going to be aching for days after tonight! This is madness!”

JOHNSON: “The Pride Championship has always been true wrestling oriented since its introduction back in twenty-fourteen. I can’t think of a better test of wrestling than this match, especially involving four individuals.”

VASSA: “HAH!!!”

JOHNSON: “What’s so funny?”

VASSA: “I just spotted someone who looks like a former F.A.G. we used to have on the roster.”

The camera cuts to a picture of the crowd where a younger gentlemen dressed with swag stands beside a beautiful woman, with a heavy chest. The fans around these two go wild as it becomes more and more clear to be a former Pride Champion himself, Jett Wilder. Behind him, a fan holds a sign above his head, waving it back and forth.

FANCY
A FAG?

JOHNSON: “So the rumors are true. He did make it out to the event.”

VASSA: “Now we just need to see him back in a 4CW ring tonight. Maybe he came to claim what he believes is rightfully his!”

JOHNSON: “I don’t know about all that.”

DING!!! DING!!!

POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following submission only elimination match will be for the 4CW Pride Championship!”

The arena goes into a brief silence before Jason Cashe comes out from the back, almost sliding out with a smile on his face and a dip in his step as he hears the place give him both jeers and cheers. Depending on the opponent more one than the other but he takes it all in, deeply inhaling the air with his head tilted back and his eyes closed at the edge of where the stage meets the entrance ramp.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Houston, Texas, weighing in at two hundred thirty pounds and standing six feet tall! He is the former three time 4CW Champion, ‘The Troubled One”, JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”

Taking two quick puffs from an “Air Joint”, Cashe throws his arms up above his head briefly, slaps the camera zoomed in on his face and then takes his first real steps towards the ring. Giving a few fans fist bumps, those who have their hands out wanting some love he makes his way down to ringside. He rounds the corner of the ring and jogs the steel stairs, getting up on the ring apron.

Dipping through the middle ropes, he enters the ring. Walking to the opposite side, he balances on the middle rope, leaning against the top rope and once again hits the “Air Joint” before getting hyped up over the upcoming match.

Dropping down, he puts his back into a nearby corner and awaits the bell.

POWERS: “Our next challenger!”

The beginning beat of “Killing You Hoes” by Trina begins to play as the lights dim, only white and pink lights shine move out over the crowd.

“Ah ah ah yep yep yep

The baddest bitch is back,

I’m back part 2, part 2

I’m reloaded and I’m killin you hoes”

Genevie appears from behind the curtain with a smirk on her face as she looks around the crowd, drinking in the boos as she does her signature stripper dance, twirling around as she shakes her ass. She completes a rotation as she bites her lip and winks at the crowd making her way down the ramp.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at one hundred thirty-six pounds, she is ‘The Boston Genie’… GENEVIE CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”

“I don’t care what a bitch think or how a hoe feel

Cause ain’t nann one of you hoes payin my bills

And ain’t nann one of you hoes fina buy me a crib

And ain’t nann one of you hoes fina get me a whip

I know I must make a lot of ya’ll hoes sick

And all I can tell you hoes, get used to it bitch!”

Genevie carries her head high as she walks down the ramp with confidence, with slow and steady steps. As the song plays she walks around to the side of the ring, hopping up on the apron. She adjusts her SnapBack as she blows the fans a kiss, listening to the boos get louder. This only makes her smirk grow wider as she climbs through the middle ropes, and standing up in the ring as she runs her hands down her body.

“And don’t you cross that line cause I get hot quick

And if you do it’s gonna be me & u up in this bitch

And I’m gonna show you why they call me the baddest bitch”

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

VASSA: “Cashe doesn’t seem to be impressed one bit! I think he’s crazy. The things I’d do to her…”

JOHNSON: “Get ahold of yourself, Vinny. We don’t need to hear about your fantasies here at ringside.”

VASSA: “I’m just saying, I don’t get why Cashe hates her so much. She is smoking!”

“Loyal” by Chris Brown hits the speakers as the attention quickly draws to the entrance stage.

POWERS: “Our third challenger for the evening!”

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.

JOHNSON: “I’ve been wondering for weeks now exactly how this match will play out with both Cashe and Persephone against each other.”

VASSA: “We’ve seen Genie and Persephone in the ring time and time again. But Cashe and Queef are lovers. How is this going to even work?!”

JOHNSON: “She’s said multiple times that inside of those ropes there are no friends. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see for ourselves.”

VASSA: “I can’t stop thinking about what Cashe did to Kaylyn James Evans when they were in the same match against each other. They were dating as well and he caved her entire face in.”

“Unsung” immediately begins to play, the heavy guitar riff and drums backing the intense sound ripping out towards the audience. The main riff starts, playing over and over as the lights turn down. Strobes going along to the beat of the song.

POWERS: “And the champion!”

Bryan walks out from the back, head held down low and the 4CW Pride Championship slung over his shoulder. The song continues to play, as Bryan stands on the top of the ramp. With his head down, Bryan holds up his title for all to see. He holds it up momentarily, eventually beginning to walk down to the ring as the song continues.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at two hundred ten pounds and standing six feet, two inches tall! He is the 4CW Pride Champion and the ‘Leviathan’, BRYAN WWIILLLLIIAAMMSS!!!”

Bryan makes his way to the ring, walking at a brisk pace towards the ring. He doesn’t waste much time getting into the ring, walking up the steel steps and climbing in through the top and middle rope. Bryan turns to the nearest turnbuckle, climbing up onto the middle rope and once again holding his title for all to see.

VASSA: “There have been a few choice words said over the last couple of weeks in regards to the former Pride Champion that held that belt before Bryan.”

JOHNSON: “Here we go, back on the officials and tampering train.”

VASSA: “No, I’m not going to even touch that. The truth has been revealed for that whole mess. I’m talking about how this match here will be tougher than any challenge Chris Madison faced while Pride Champion.”

JOHNSON: “Bryan has even went as far as to say that Madison ran from competition and matches like this.”

VASSA: “Those were some pretty bold statements but he isn’t wrong, is he?”

JOHNSON: “Bryan does have his hands full with the three challengers in the ring with him tonight.”

VASSA: “Queef has been a force to be reckoned with ever since crossing over to Adrenaline and killing Uprising dead in its tracks. Her punch is just as effective as her bite.”

JOHNSON: “Genie is definitely one to look out for as well. She’s had some tough times ever since coming over to Adrenaline but when she’s on, she’s on!”

VASSA: “I’m loving the fact that there’s another lady in this match with Queef. I’m hoping we can see the type of madness in the ring we saw when she faced off against Tara Davidson.”

JOHNSON: “Of course that would be the only you’d wish for with two ladies in the ring together.”

VASSA: “Am I wrong?”

JOHNSON: “Dang right you are!”

VASSA: “Settle down, Steve. With Cashe in the ring as well, I don’t think Queef will get out of hand like she has before.”

JOHNSON: “You think he’s going to stop her?”

VASSA: “Were you not paying attention to my KJE comment moments ago?”

JOHNSON: “As much as Persephone wants to face off against Cashe, I think he’s going to have his hands full with the champ, Bryan Williams!”

VASSA: “These two have been at it since Ante Up when Bryan made his return to 4CW. These two have been tag partners, almost champions until Cashe stuck the knife in his back!”

JOHNSON: “They’ve been through quite a bit to say the least. At Fright Night, Bryan was able to score a victory over Cashe to become the Pride Champion.”

VASSA: “And that hasn’t sat right with Cashe ever since.”

JOHNSON: “Well tonight we have an entirely new match at a new different pay-per-view. I expect things to be completely opposite of how Fright Night went down.”

VASSA: “No shit, right? Hopefully Cashe doesn’t try that double moonsault again. That botched move cost him the match at Fright Night.”

JOHNSON: “We’re just going to have to wait and see how things play out.”

VASSA: “Well we don’t have to wait too long! The official is ready to get things underway.”

Receiving the Pride Championship from Williams, the official backs to the center of the ring before raising it above his head and turning to each side of the ring, putting it on display. He then walks to the ropes and hands the championship down to a member of the ringside crew before returning to the center of the ring. Looking to each corner, all four wrestlers give the official the okay and with everyone now ready, he throws his hand into the air, signaling for the bell to start the match.

DING!!! DING!!!

At the sound of the bell, Marquis erupts from her corner and charges across the ring, heading straight for Cashe. Preparing himself, Cashe stands his ground, ready for the incoming Marquis until his eyes light up and body cringes at the sight of Genie blindsiding her with a running shoulder block, knocking her down to the canvas. Running to her aid, Cashe grabs Genie by the back of her head with both hands, clutching tightly onto her hair. Pulling Ganie away from Marquis, Cashe struggles to keep his hold as Genie squirms, fighting to break free.

From behind, Williams kicks Cashe in the back of the knee, forcing his leg to give out from under him as he drops to that knee. Pulling herself away, Genie then spins around and kicks for Cashe’s head, missing as he ducks out of the way. As Bryan stands behind Cashe, Genie’s foot crashes into his crotch, forcing him to drop to both knees as his face grows bright red.

VASSA: “Jesus fucking Christ! Bryan’s genitals just can’t seem to catch a break!”

JOHNSON: “I’m actually surprised to not see Cashe or Williams attacking each other there.”

Cashe then throws his arm back, knocking Bryan right between the eyes with an elbow shot, laying him flat out on his back. Turning around, Cashe opens himself up as Genie slaps him across the face, whipping his head to the side. Genie then turns around and bends over, looking behind her at Cashe as she begins to shake her booty. Coming to his senses, Cashe looks up at the sight, getting sick to his stomach. The booty shaking then comes to an abrupt stop as connects to the side of Genie’s head with a spinning kick. Whipping around in mid-air, Genie collides into Cashe as the two fall to the mat, Genie on top of Cashe.

Cashe then begins fighting wildly as he tries to push Genie off of him. After freeing himself, Cashe then leans upward to a seated position. He then looks ahead at the sight of Marquis standing just a few feet away. She then quickly moves in with a stinging combination of kicks to Cashe’s shoulders before pulling him up from the mat. Locking onto his wrist, Marquis then goes to whip Cashe to the far corner across the ring. Before she releases, Cashe reverses and goes to throw her to the corner instead. As if the two were dancing in the center of the ring, Marquis then reverses Cashe’s reverse and sends him running full speed to the corner. Crashing into the corner chest first, Cashe bounces off and stumbles backwards only to fall into a running dropkick to the back from Marquis, sending him crashing chest first into the corner once more.

JOHNSON: “Just as expected, she isn’t holding anything back against Cashe.”

VASSA: “I’m sure this is just foreplay for them.”

JOHNSON: “I’d hate to see what happens after the foreplay if that’s the case.”

Cashe’s arms drape over the top ropes on the corner, barely holding himself up as he catches his breath after having it knocked from his lungs. Marquis then moves in and attacks with a striking punch combination and goes to town.

Across the ring, Genie and Williams both stand to their feet after slowly pushing themselves up. Lunging towards Genie, Bryan reaches forward with both arms, leaving his mid-section open as Genie counters with a swift kick to the gut. As Bryan lunges over, Genie then slams down onto his back with a double axe-handle, knocking him down to both knees. Spinning around, Genie then lays Bryan out with a roundhouse kick to the face.

The crowd erupts as Genie slowly steps over Bryan, extending both arms out to her sides, taunting him. She then pulls Bryan up from the mat, holding him in place as he sways back and forth, barely able to stay on his feet. Ducking down, Genie places her head between his legs and then wraps them both up with her arms. Standing up, Genie lifts Bryan above her head, struggling to hold him but managing to so.

VASSA: “Look at that booty!”

JOHNSON: “It wasn’t easy to get him up but Genie has him in place for what I think may be an incoming Alabama Slam.”

VASSA: “I’m just looking at the booty flexing.”

Genie goes to slam Bryan down with an Alabama Slam but before she releases him, Bryan grabs the back of her pants and in a fluid motion, he reverses the move and drives her head into the canvas with a quick pulling piledriver.

JOHNSON: “Bryan countered with a piledriver of his own!”

VASSA: “She’s going to be digging her shorts out from her ass for days after that wedgie. I’d like to offer my assistance.”

JOHNSON: “Of course you would.”

Genie’s body rolls over Bryan’s as the two lay on the mat, out of breath and looking up at the ceiling.

On the other side of the ring, Marquis has Cashe sitting on top of the corner, worn down and battered. She then climbs the corner, over Cashe, making her way up until standing on the top ropes. She then jumps up and wraps both legs around Cashe’s head before going for a Frankensteiner.

VASSA: “She’s about to test his flying skills.”

JOHNSON: “OR IS SHE?!”

Wrapping his arms around and underneath Marquis’ legs, Cashe prevents her from flipping backwards and he holds her closely, his face buried in her crotch.

VASSA: “I told you this was only foreplay!”

Cashe then stands tall on the middle ropes, holding Marquis up. Throwing her forward, he releases her and as she lands down to the mat on her feet, Cashe leaps off away from the corner and levels her with a diving clothesline.

JOHNSON: “Down goes Persephone!”

VASSA: “Someone call the domestic violence hotline!”

Cashe then pushes himself up, surveying the damage before moving towards Marquis’ feet and grabbing ahold of them. Raising both feet into the air, Cashe then begins stomping on her crotch over and over. After nearly half a dozen kicks to the crotch, Cashe then falls head first, hitting her with a headbutt right between the legs. Like a rabid dog, Cashe then bites down onto Marquis’ lady parts as she violently begins squirming in pain.

JOHNSON: “Oh my god! Look what he’s doing!”

VASSA: “It looks like he’s made himself right at home for an all you can eat buffet.”

JOHNSON: “I guess it’s a good thing he’s missing those two front teeth.”

Inhaling through his nose deeply, Cashe takes a big whiff before pushing himself up and looking across the ring where Genie and Williams are slowly climbing to their feet. Cashe then rushes over and slams his shoulder into Williams, knocking him into and through the ropes, and onto the apron. Cashe then back steps while facing Genie until bouncing off the ropes and comes back at her, gaining speed with each step. Sliding to his knees, Cashe extends his palm, striking Genie in the crotch with it.

VASSA: “Moving on from one vag to the next like it ain’t no thing.”

JOHNSON: “We probably should have expected this.”

Clenching his fist, Cashe locks onto genie’s private parts as she yells in agony and displeasure. Looking up to Genie with his toothless smile, Cashe appears amused at Genie’s reaction. He then stands to his feet while keeping his hold on her crotch. With his other hand, Cashe grabs a handful of hair and then slings Genie across the ring behind him.

After releasing Genie, Cashe’s eyes light up as Marquis is right there, running into him with a step-up enzuiguri to the head. Falling backwards, Cashe hits the ropes where Williams is right there on the apron to grab ahold of him, locking both arms around his body underneath Cashe’s arms. Shaking off the kick to the head, Cashe tries to pull himself away from William’s but can’t as his hands have now locked. Williams then drives both feet into the apron as he uses all of his strength to lift Cashe off his feet and over the top rope. Falling backwards, Bryan drops Cashe down to the floor with a German suplex.

JOHNSON: “OH MY GOD!!!”

VASSA: “HOLY HELL!!!”

JOHNSON: “Bryan just pulled Cashe up and over the top rope before dropping him down to the floor with a German suplex!”

VASSA: “Holy shit that was crazy! They’re both feeling the aftermath of that high risk move.”

As both men roll around on the outside floor, Marquis pulls Genie to her feet on the inside. With Genie wobbling back and forth on her feet and favoring her crotch, Marquis then hits her with a combination of kicks to the mid-section. Finishing off the combination with a kick to the stomach, Marquis turns to the ropes as Genie lunges over from the blow. Coming back on the rebound, Marquis wraps her arm around Genie’s head before jumping forward and slamming Genie face first to the mat with a running bulldog.

Pulling Genie up to her feet, Marquis quickly locks up with her. Allowing Genie to push her back a bit, Marquis uses her weight to lift Genie off her feet and flip her over with a hip toss. Somehow, Genie manages to land with both feet on the floor, keeping herself and Marquis from going down to the mat. With her legs bent, Genie then extends them fully and pushes away from the floor, jumping off her feet and back over Marquis to the position they were in previously. Genie then lifts Marquis into the air and flips her over to her back with a hip toss of her own.

VASSA: “This match is just full of reversals!”

JOHNSON: “It sure has been.”

VASSA: “Look! Genie is going to town!”

On top of Marquis, Genie begins raining down on her with punches to the head. The punches then transition into hammerfists as genie snaps. Popping to her feet, Genie then turns to the ropes and takes off towards them. As she comes back on the rebound, she hits Marquis across the face with a rolling knee drop. As she rolls off of Marquis, she rises to her feet. Jumping forward, Genie plants both feet on the middle ropes and springboards off. Rotating in mid-air, Genie then comes down with a leg drop across Marquis’ throat.

JOHNSON: “Genie’s on a roll!”

VASSA: “She just needs to continue wearing down Marquis before putting her away for good with ‘Killing You Hoes’.”

JOHNSON: “What do garden tools have to do with anything?”

Back on her feet, Genie slowly circles Marquis, taunting her before pulling her up to her feet. Turning Marquis around to face the opposite direction, Genie then grabs onto her and brings her down with a double knee backbreaker. Rolling Marquis over, Genie then positions herself on top of Marquis’ back with a bridging crossface.

JOHNSON: “There it is, Vinny!”

VASSA: “Killing You Hoes!”

JOHNSON: “Genie has it locked in place and Marquis has nowhere to go.”

VASSA: “These hoes ain’t loyal!”

Squirming to break loose, Marquis has nowhere to go as Genie refuses to let go. The ropes are out of reach and no one is around to save her.

JOHNSON: “I don’t know how much more she can take.”

VASSA: “We have all night because we need a total of three submissions for this thing to be over.”

Marquis’ fight slowly begins to die down as the move takes its toll. Still not giving up, Marquis fights through the pain. Sliding into the ring, Cashe pushes himself up to his feet and limps in their direction. As he closes in, he leaps forward, extending both arms and slamming his hands together across Genie’s ears with a bell clap.

JOHNSON: “That wasn’t the bell she was expecting!”

VASSA: “Look at Cashe! Here to save the day!”

The bell clap forces Genie to release her hold. Cashe then pulls her up to her feet only to then get taken by surprise as she delivers a low blow. Dropping to his knees, Cashe then swings forward, punching Genie in the crotch as well. Stumbling backwards, Genie hits the ropes but manages to lock her arms around the top before rebounding off. Cashe then forces himself to his feet before spitting in his hand and slapping Genie across the mouth.

Cashe then grabs two handfuls of hair before ripping Genie away from the ropes and flipping her over to the mat on her back. As he looks up, Bryan is right there, crashing into him with a running clothesline. The two then hit the ropes and flip over the top, crashing hard to the floor below.

VASSA: “Back to the outside they go.”

JOHNSON: “Luckily for them there are no count outs in this match.”

With both Genie and Marquis down on the inside of the ring, Cashe and Williams begin climbing to their feet on the outside. Swinging with all of his might, Cashe goes for Williams’ head but comes up short as he ducks out of the way. Lowering his shoulder, Williams then thrusts himself forward, wrapping Cashe up around the waist and driving him backwards into the nearby barricade at ringside. Williams then unloads with a series of lefts and rights to Cashe’s mid-section.

On the inside, Marquis slowly rolls underneath the bottom rope to the apron. She then pulls herself up with the ropes before looking to the outside as Williams pounds away at Cashe. Backing up towards the end of the apron, she then looks to her left where genie is still down in the ring. Taking off, Marquis sprints along the apron before leaping off. Spotting Marquis in the corner of his eye, Cashe manages to push Williams away and into Marquis as she tackles him from behind.

JOHNSON: “See! They can work together!”

VASSA: “If you ask me, I’d say Cashe was just saving himself right there.”

Rising to her feet, Marquis looks up to see Cashe within a few inches of her face. The two lock eyes at ringside as the fans in the front row scream for them to throw down. Cashe then reaches down and pulls Bryan up to his feet. The two then lock onto Bryan and lift him up and over, dropping him to his back with a double suplex. As they both stand, they lock eyes once more as the tension between the two rises. Clenching their fists, the prepare for battle, waiting for the other to make the first move. Cashe then waves Marquis off and turns his back to her, making his way towards the corner of the ring.

Shocked, Marquis looks on in disappointment as Cashe climbs the ringside steps. He then climbs the corner until standing at the top with his back turned to the outside of the ring. Looking behind him, a smile then comes to Cashe’s face as he balances himself and pulls the back of his pants down, exposing his butt.

JOHNSON: “That’s disgusting!”

VASSA: “OH MY GOD!!! THIS IS IT!!! OH MY GOD!!!”

JOHNSON: “Get ahold of yourself, Vinny! Calm down!”

VASSA: “He’s actually going to fucking do it!”

JOHNSON: “Do what?”

Cashe then launches himself backwards into the air. Rotating twice in mid-air, Cashe lands across Williams with a double moonsault!

VASSA: “HE DID IT!!!”

JOHNSON: “Cashe finally connects with the double moonsault!”

VASSA: “It’s a Double Moonie! His bare ass is exposed!”

JOHNSON: “Downright disgu–“

Before Cashe can even celebrate, Marquis kneels down beside him and begins spanking him wildly, slapping him across his bare cheeks with force. The flesh on flesh sound cuts through the cheers from the crowd as the fans erupt with madness. Cashe screams as her hand slaps him across his butt, leaving bright red hand prints each time contact is made. At first, he appears to be enjoying it but shortly after his facial expression reveals him to be in pain as Marquis continues to slap his backside with rapid palm strikes.

VASSA: “Look out!”

Running towards the ropes, Genie then dives through them, flying through the air and colliding into Marquis from behind. Up on her feet, Genie then pulls Marquis up and locks onto her head with both hands. Dragging Marquis to the side of the ring, Genie then slams her face onto the apron before lifting her up and rolling her back into the ring.

Climbing onto the apron, Genie then ascends to the top of the corner where she then leaps into the air and comes down with yet another leg drop across Marquis’ throat. genie then pulls her up to her feet and quickly turns her around before grabbing onto her shoulders. Jumping up, Genie then falls backwards and pulls Marquis for another double knee backbreaker.

JOHNSON: “NNNOOOOOO!!!”

Grabbing onto the top rope, Marquis holds herself up as Genie crashes to the mat empty handed. On the outside, Cashe then climbs onto the apron and grabs Marquis’ head with both hands before jumping off the apron and falling to the floor. Pulling Marquis’ head down, he slams her throat across the top rope as Marquis then rebounds and launches into the air, flying backwards before crashing onto the canvas beside Genie.

Grabbing onto the rope to pull himself up to the apron, Cashe gets taken by surprise as Williams hits him in the back of the head with a roaring elbow. Falling to his knees, Cashe’s chin slams onto the top of the apron. Bryan then lifts Cashe’s head up and slams his face down onto the apron. With Cashe now in a daze, Williams then rolls him underneath the bottom rope and back into the ring.

VASSA: “It’s a good thing he’s missing those front two teeth or else he could have bitten his tongue off.”

As Bryan rolls into the ring and rises to his feet, he looks ahead where Genie is also rising to her feet. Rushing over to her, Bryan hits her with an overhead punch, knocking her back down to one knee. He then lifts Genie up into a fireman’s carry. Stepping to the center of the ring, Bryan then goes for a neckbreaker but Genie slips out of his hands and drops down to her feet as he falls empty handed to the mat.

Popping back up instantly, Williams turns to face Genie only to get blindsided with a roundhouse kick to the jaw. Genie then locks onto his wrist and whips him to the corner across the ring. As Bryan crashes into the corner, Genie is right behind him with a running clothesline that nearly takes his head off. Stepping back, Genie places her hand behind Bryan’s head to guide him before giving him one last push as he falls face first to the mat.

JOHNSON: “This has been a long match so far and we’ve yet to have a single elimination.”

VASSA: “They’ve all been through quite a bit from the sound of the bell. I just know the gas tanks are almost on empty.”

Both Cashe and Marquis then begin climbing side by side to their feet. Noticing Marquis beside him, Cashe backhands her in the crotch before standing tall. He then pushes her into the corner, trapping her from going anywhere else. Grabbing onto the top ropes on each side of the corner, Cashe then uses them for leverage as he pulls himself in and hits Marquis in the stomach with a lifting knee. As she gasps for air, Cashe leans forward and kisses her on the forehead before pushing himself away and backing towards the center of the ring. Running full speed, Cashe launches himself forward, flipping towards Marquis with a cannonball senton.

JOHNSON: “C.O–“

VASSA: “DENIED!!!”

Rolling along the ropes, Marquis escapes the corner as Cashe crashes into it upside down and back first against the turnbuckles before dropping straight down and onto his head.

JOHNSON: “He misses!”

Across the ring, Genie pulls Bryan up from the mat and locks onto his wrist. Pulling him in, she hits him with a short-arm shoulder block and then goes to whip him to the ropes. Reversing the throw to the ropes, Bryan plants his feet and pulls Genie into a swift kick to the stomach. He then kicks his foot against the back of her knee, forcing her to drop down to that knee.

Standing back up instantly, Genie is then hit with another kick to the same knee, this time the impact is on the side. Bryan then takes a step back before coming forward and hitting her under the jaw with a superkick, standing her straight up. Bryan then moves in and grabs ahold of her head, wrapping his arm around it as he pulls it down and grabs the back of her pants. Lifting genie upside down into the air, Bryan just about goes for the CTE before Genie slides out of his hands and drops down to her feet behind him.

Genie then spins Bryan around and pops her foot up from the mat with a kick to his stomach. Catching Genie’s foot, Bryan then sweeps her planted foot out from under her and drops her to her back. With her foot still in his hands, Bryan then jumps up and comes down on the same knee with a double leg drop. Genie releases a howling moan at the impact on her knee. Bryan then stands back to his feet and focuses on that same knee with repeated stomps and kicks.

VASSA: “Bryan’s found a weak point!”

JOHNSON: “More like he made that point weak himself with the back to back attacks focused on her knee.”

As Bryan continues to work on Genie’s knee, Marquis pulls Cashe up from the mat and slams him against the corner. She then kicks him in the stomach with a vicious right foot, taking his breath away. Locking onto Cashe’s head, she then pulls him away from the corner and drops him not far from it with a swinging neckbreaker. Cahse stares up at the ceiling as he catches his breath. Meanwhile, Marquis climbs to her feet and walks to the ropes. Jumping up onto the middle rope, she bounces up and down twice before launching herself into the air with a back flip. Popping up from the mat, Cashe catches her in mid-air before she can execute the double springboard moonsault.

Turning to the corner, Cashe carries Marquis on his shoulder as she charges towards it. As he closes in, Marquis slips out of his hold and pushes him in the back as she drops to her feet, thrusting Cashe chest first into the corner. Bouncing off the corner, Cashe instantly spins around and lunges at Marquis with a stiff striking elbow.

JOHNSON: “MARK OF JASON!!!”

VASSA: “I’m having flashbacks of Kayl–“

Ducking out of the way, Marquis steps behind Cashe as he lunges forward and locks her arms around his head, pressing one tightly against his face as she pulls him down to the canvas with a crossface.

JOHNSON: “She has him in the Pending Payment!”

VASSA: “And she’s only accepting cash!”

As the two drop to the mat, Marquis on top of Cashe’s back with a crossface locked in, Bryan finally makes his move across the ring. After putting a tremendous amount of focus on Genie’s knee, Bryan wraps her legs up with his and settles her in a figure four leglock.

JOHNSON: “Bryan has Genie in a figure four!”

VASSA: “Damn, now everyone decides to finish the damn thing.”

Both Genie and Cashe fight to break free from the submission moves they’re locked in but as they continue to struggle, the find themselves locked in deeper as each second passes.

VASSA: “Queef is trying to rip Cashe’s face off!”

JOHNSON: “She’s been wanting this match and from what I’ve heard, he’s already submitted in the bedroom. The ring is the only other place she can make him tap out.”

VASSA: “So you heard about the pegging too?”

JOHNSON: “Excuse me?”

VASSA: “Nevermind!”

Bryan applies the pressure across Genie’s kneecap with the figure four, leaving her nowhere to go as she grunts loudly from the pain. Trying to pry Marquis’ hands around, Cashe fights to break away from the crossface but Marquis refuses to let go.

After nearly a minute of agony passes for both wrestlers, Cashe and Genie begins slapping the canvas at the same time. In the center of it all, the official looks to his left and spots Cashe tapping out before looking to his right and noticing Genie tapping it.

VASSA: “They’re both giving up!”

JOHNSON: “I don’t know how either managed to last that long before doing so.”

VASSA: “That’s two out of the way!”

GENEVIE CARLSON & JASON CASHE ELIMINATED

As both Genie and Cashe tap out, Bryan and Marquis release their holds at the sound of their opponents applauding them. Cashe and Genie then slowly roll towards the edge of the ring before dropping down to the outside where the ringside crew is right there to assist them. Standing to their feet, Persephone and Bryan look across to each other from the corners they stand next to.

JOHNSON: “We’re down to our final two ladies and gentlemen.”

VASSA: “This has already been a strenuous match between the four. How much longer can Bryan and Queef last?”

JOHNSON: “I have no clue but this thing isn’t over until one more person submits.”

VASSA: “I wish they’d hurry up before I have to go to the bathroom again.”

JOHNSON: “You need to learn to go before we start the shows.”

VASSA: “I did! Whatever I ate just isn’t sitting right on my stomach. But I’d do it at ringside before taking the chance of bumping into someone backstage.”

Wiping the hair away that hangs over his face, Williams adjusts his tights before slowly making his way to the center of the ring. Looking on, Marquis keeps a close eye on him before cutting her eyes to the outside of the ring, watching Cashe as he makes his way up the entrance ramp. Finally showing an ounce of emotion, a sad looks briefly comes over her face before she cuts her eyes to Bryan and it vanishes.

Marquis then pushes herself away from the corner and approaches Bryan. Standing toe to toe with him in the center of the ring, the two lock eyes momentarily before locking up. Popping her knee upward, Marquis drives it into Bryan’s stomach and then flips him over and onto his back with a hip toss. Grabbing onto his head with both hands, she then begins slamming it into the canvas over and over.

Spreading his fingers and placing his palm across Marquis’ face, Bryan extends his arm, pushing her away. He then rolls his body over to the side, knocking Marquis off of him. The two race to their feet, Marquis standing first. Rushing in, she goes for Bryan’s head with a knee strike as he gets up to one knee. Catching her leg, Bryan then stands up and lifts Marquis into the air before slamming her back into the canvas, driving his shoulder into her stomach.

VASSA: “Here we go! Round two!”

JOHNSON: “Not even a moment to catch their breaths. What are these two thinking?”

VASSA: “There’s a championship at stake, Steve. That’s the only thing they’re thinking about at this point.”

JOHNSON: “They have to make it long enough to force a submission out of their opponents. At this rate, they’re going to run out of gas before they reach the finish.”

Positioning himself beside Marquis, Bryan wraps her up and holds her in place before slamming multiple knees into her mid-section. Pushing himself up, Bryan then rolls Marquis over to her stomach before standing over her with a foot planted on each side of her body. Reaching down, Bryan wraps his arms around her, connecting his hands together underneath her. He then plants both feet into the mat in a burst of energy as he deadlifts Marquis up from the mat. Lifting her up and over his head, he then falls backwards to drop her with a German suplex.

JOHNSON: “We’ve seen this time and ti–“

VASSA: “AND ANOTHER ONE!!!”

Rolling out of Bryan’s hands, Marquis drops down to her feet as Bryan smacks the canvas all by himself. Marquis then jumps straight into the air and comes down on Bryan’s chest with a double foot stomp. Stepping off of his chest, she then runs to the ropes and as she comes back on the rebound, she slides feet first and drives them both into Bryan’s head. Pushing herself up instantly, Marquis then turns to the adjacent ropes and jumps up, planting both feet onto the middle rope before springboarding off. Flying backwards, Marquis comes down on Bryan with an elbow drop to the chest.

VASSA: “Hot damn, Marquis is all over the place!”

JOHNSON: “She has to be running on fumes after all she’s been through in this entire match.”

VASSA: “Right now she has the edge over Bryan so she best not let up if she’s going to put him away.”

Up on her feet, Marquis then turns to Bryan’s right knee. Jumping upward, she stomps her foot down as she descends, slamming it onto his kneecap.

JOHNSON: “Apparently she’s done her research on her opponents past injuries as well.”

VASSA: “She’s always digging around for dirt on her opponents. What injury though?”

JOHNSON: “That right knee of Bryan’s has given him problems over the years.”

Grabbing onto Bryan’s foot, Marquis then drags him to the ropes where she then places his foot up onto the bottom rope, elevating his leg. grabbing onto the top rope, Marquis then uses it as she jumps up and pushes herself up further into the air. As gravity takes over, she comes down with speed and stomps on his knee with great force. Rolling over to his side, Bryan reaches down and grabs his knee with both hands, sighing as the pain settles in.

JOHNSON: “She saved the best for last. This could eventually lead to the kill shot.”

VASSA: “All she has to do is continue working on that knee and then she can put him away with a figure four like he did to Genie.”

Placing Bryan’s foot back onto the bottom rope, Marquis then locks onto the top rope again as she jumps straight into the air. Pulling herself up, she then presses herself upward as her body is upside down. Swinging back down, this time she drops across Bryan’s right knee with a leg drop, crushing it against the canvas.

VASSA: “Holy fucking shit! She’s going to break his leg.”

Rolling back over to his side, Bryan grabs onto his knee and moans loudly from the excruciating pain. Marquis then drags him over to the corner before dipping through the ropes and sitting down on the apron. Pulling Bryan’s legs under the bottom ropes, she pulls his crotch closer to the ring post before wrapping one leg around it. She then crawls over to the very corner of the ring and locks her leg in with his, placing his bent leg across his right kneecap and leaning backwards off the apron, setting up a figure four.

JOHNSON: “Oh no! She has him locked in a figure four using the ring post.”

VASSA: “Is that even legal?!”

JOHNSON: “I don’t even know to be honest. The only rule I heard was submission only to eliminate someone. It was never made clear whether or not that submission could be forced illegally.”

As Marquis leans back and fully extends her body, Bryan begins yelling from inside of the ring. Marquis then locks the move in completely, crushing down onto his knee, trying to break it in half.

VASSA: “She has Bryan in a tough spot right here.”

JOHNSON: “His knee has been injured multiple times throughout his career. If he doesn’t do something quick, Persephone could end his career right now!”

VASSA: “Boy oh boy, she wasn’t lying about there being no friends inside of that ring.”

Fighting through the pain, Bryan’s face begins growing bright red as he grunts and groans. Leaning up, Bryan grabs onto the middle ropes, trying to pull himself away from the figure four Marquis has him locked in. After a few moments of fighting, Bryan comes up short as the official checks in with him for a submission. Ignoring the official, Bryan continues trying to break free before finally catching a break. With his leg covered in sweat, he manages to slip his right leg from Marquis’ hold, breaking the figure four. Falling backwards, Marquis slams her head against the ringside steps before toppling over and rolling down each one until laying out across the floor.

JOHNSON: “Bryan has escaped the lethal figure four around the ring post!”

VASSA: “Talk about catching a break! He just received a late Christmas gift.”

Dragging himself away from the corner, Bryan stops midway to the center before leaning forward and caring to his knee. On the outside of the ring, Marquis slowly comes to her senses and crawls up the ringside steps before pushing herself up onto the apron. Before she enters the ring, Bryan quickly takes notice and pushes himself up to his feet. Favoring his right led badly, he barely sets any weight down on it as he preps himself for Marquis to enter the ring.

Dipping through the ropes, Marquis charges towards Bryan with a limp in her step. Taking a swing for his head, she comes up short as Bryan ducks down and dives forward, slamming his shoulder into her knee and hyperextending it, taking her down to the mat. Rolling over to their backs, the two hold their knees as they catch their breaths.

VASSA: “I think their tanks are finally on empty.”

JOHNSON: “I don’t know how much more either can fight. They’re both completely drained!”

VASSA: “Someone better do something because we’ll be here all night unless one can make the other submit.”

The two then roll over to their stomachs and slowly push themselves up. Both favoring their knees, they begin to circle one another, hopping with each step to keep the weight off of their leg. Frustrated, Marquis then shoots in for Bryan’s leg and wraps it up, dropping him to the canvas with a single leg takedown.

JOHNSON: “Persephone strikes first!”

VASSA: “But wait a second!”

With Marquis on top of him and between his legs, Bryan quickly grabs ahold of her and pulls her in as he maneuvers himself and traps her in position for a triangle choke hold. Marquis fights to pull herself away but Bryan throws his head forward, hitting her right between the eyes with a headbutt and knocking her into a daze. Locking his legs, Bryan then pulls her in and applies the triangle choke.

VASSA: “She has nowhere to go!”

JOHNSON: “She fell right into that triangle choke!”

Squeezing his legs together as tightly as he can, Bryan cranks down the pressure on Marquis with the triangle choke. Fighting to break free, Marquis doesn’t manage to make any progress as she only makes herself even more tired.

JOHNSON: “I don’t know how much longer she can last. Bryan has her locked in pretty good.”

VASSA: “She’s either going to tap out or lose all blood circulation to her brain, whichever comes first.”

After nearly a minute and a half of fighting the move, Marquis eventually begins slapping Bryan’s thigh, tapping out as the official quickly calls for the bell.

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

PERSEPHONE MARQUIS ELIMINATED

VASSA: “Bryan did it! He survived the submission only elimination match and successfully defended the Pride Championship!”

JOHNSON: “He put it all on the line in a very gruesome match and was able to seal the deal with putting Persephone away with the final elimination.”

VASSA: “There’s no doubt about it. Bryan’s first defense was more challenging than anything Chris Madison did as the Pride Champion hands down.”

JOHNSON: “It’s just a shame that we didn’t get to see these two tie up at Fright Night.”

VASSA: “It is what it is. We can’t dwell on the past. All we can do is live in the present and right here, right now, Bryan Williams has defended the Pride Championship in his first defense.”

“Unsung” hits the speakers as Bryan finally releases Marquis from the tringle choke. As she rolls over to her side, nearly out of it, Bryan struggles to climb to his feet until getting assistance from the official. The official then hands him the championship as he keeps one arm wrapped around Bryan to support him. Bryan then raises the championship high above his head as the entire arena goes wild.

POWERS: “Here is your winner and still 4CW Pride Champion… BRYAN WWIILLLLIIAAMMSS!!!”

Lowering the championship, Bryan hobbles to the nearest corner as the official assists him along the way. Propping himself up against the ropes, Bryan looks over the crowd as a smile comes to his face. He then locks onto the top rope with one hand and raises the championship high above his head with the other hand one more time.

JOHNSON: “There you have it folks. Bryan Williams is still your Pride Champion.”

VASSA: “This wasn’t an easy match for anyone involved. The deck was stacked not only against him, but everyone who participated here tonight in this match.”

JOHNSON: “He can rest easy tonight knowing that he did exactly what he said he was going to do and that’s leaving here tonight just as he did entering it, the Pride Champion.”

VASSA: “While these final two in the ring get situated, we’re going to go backstage as we prep for our main event ladies and gents.”

The crowd then begins stirring as our special guest of the evening, Jett Wilder, points to the ring at Bryan. He then motions his hands around his waist, signifying that the Pride Championship is his.

Backstage Johnny is refusing medical attention, stumbling around using props to hold himself up and pushing medics off of him. He comes to a clearing noticing Adrian Tanner Jr. approaching him with Baby Rhiannon nestled in his arms. Tanner reaches out as Johnny stumbles toward them, sitting down on an electric box, taking a break from his struggles to walk.

TANNER: “Here she is, man. You got her back. Tough loss, but one hell of a show. You’ll get through it, you always do.”

Evil reaches out slowly and takes his daughter from Adrian’s hands, giving off an expression of hurt as he looks down into Rhiannon’s eyes, before looking at Tanner and doing a groggy stand to his feet…

EVIL: “No…. I won’t…”

Evil takes a limping step past Tanner, favoring his leg wrapped in bandages from the shard of glass that was lodged into it, and gives him a pat on the back while holding Rhiannon in his other arm. After a short bow of the head toward the floor. Johnny begins a painful and limping walk toward the parking lot, leaving Tanner and the rest of the medics confused…

JOHNSON: “Well 4CW, I’m sad to say we may have just witnessed the end of a career here tonight!”

VASSA: “Usually I would be a douchebag about things, but this is actually heart breaking, Steve!! BUT HE CAN’T!!!”

JOHNSON: “Why’s that?”

VASSA: “Because he has to help Perry since he granted him his freedom and ripped up the adoptions papers.”

Persephone Marquis enters her locker room after the gruesome match that she had just experienced. Her body aches and she groans as she closes the door behind her, replaying the match in her head as she plops herself down into a pile on one of the many chairs in the room. Her locker room was created with company in mind, but it’s just her most events.

She rolls over a particular scene from the match in her head as she begins to eat from a fruit bowl that has seemingly appeared out of thin air. However, the match goes right out of her head as soon as her eyes catch the glint of something given away a while ago.

Her flask.

MARQUIS: “What the fuck?”

She looks at the camera man as she rises from her chair, looking suspicious as if she’s waiting for the joke to end. She marches over to the flask, stomping really, and sure enough, “Marquis,” gold plated. Abandoned. Given back.

Cashe left it here for her and she knows she fucked up. Persephone is well aware that she’s fucked up. She knew she fucked up as soon as she requested they stay apart. She knew she fucked up as soon as this match was made. Fuck it, as soon as she rode his dick for the first time and stole everything she needed.

And maybe segments don’t need this much narrative. It’s simple. She wanted the match, but she didn’t want to lose him. Of course, a fucking idiot like him doesn’t understand the competitive nature she has bubbling under the surface.

Suddenly, she beams her flask at the camera man, who shakes the image he is creating with the impact and a loud “Ow!” The flask can be heard, slightly, as it hits the ground and Persephone just starts yelling.

MARQUIS: “Shut the fuck up, Terrance, because I know you know what’s going on! Where the fuck is Cashe?”

HITCH: “Why would I- watch out! Wait!”

Persephone is grabbing random things from the locker room now, throwing everything at Terrance as the cameraman tries to finesse and dodge whatever she’s throwing; the movements of the video being affected by the attack put on him. The fruit bowl can be heard smashing against him into ceramic pieces.

He steps forward, probably as a means to attempt to reason with her, but he slips on a crushed grape under his shoe and goes down, the camera following him with a devastating crunch to the device. The image in now pointed toward the flask on the floor as Terrance can be heard, screaming, “stop kicking me!”

MARQUIS: “Fuck you and fuck your camera!”

The camera goes sliding across the floor from a kick, hitting the wall and now far enough to catch the whole scene. Terrance is in a fetal position and there is shit thrown all over the locker room. Persephone squeals in anger, stomps her feet and what is she supposed to do, honestly?

MARQUIS: “I’ve just been dumped, Terrance!”

She yells this to him, as if he doesn’t know. Terrance begins to slide away from her, more near his camera as he mumbles, “I wonder why…”

MARQUIS: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Terrance grabs his camera and goes back to a stand. Now, he’s behind the footage, where he belongs. You would think he would be used to her by now since, slipping passed the veil a little bit, he films most of her promos for her. He takes steps back, opening the door as he speaks, an easy escape.

HITCH: “Nothing! Just, you know, you’re a little crazy. Who would deal with that for so long? I’m not trying to be mean, just-whoa!”

A chair is tossed at him and it hits the lens of the camera, shattering the picture as it falls out into the hallway. The image statics randomly as Persephone is screeching at Terrance, the camera man who just wants to be left to do his work.

MARQUIS: “That’s it, it’s over. Just like that! No note, nothing!”

Then, there is silence. An epiphany, really.

MARQUIS: “You know what? This is fine. I’m okay. Like, what? Dumped? Who cares?! Hahaha. You go along, Terrance. Boy Gee Golly, I’m totally cool.”

Terrance goes to pick up the camera one final time, the distorted image clearing up just enough to catch Persephone just lying on the floor, her hands over her face before she screams into her palms loudly in frustration; the video cuts off mid-scream into static.

MAIN EVENT
4CW CHAMPIONSHIP
FALLS COUNT ANYWHERE

ELIJAH CARLSON VS. JAIR HOPKINS ©

JOHNSON: “It’s been a long night, full of twists and turns, but we have finally made it to our main event.”

VASSA: “Three championship matches so far and not a single change of champions. Will this last match follow the same pattern?”

JOHNSON: “We’re seen some long, gruesome matches tonight with gold on the line. This falls count anywhere should be no different.”

VASSA: “Ever since Eli won the contract at Fright Night, he’s been a thorn in Jair’s side at every turn.”

JOHNSON: “These two have been at each others throats for weeks now. There’s nowhere left to go now but to that ring ahead.”

VASSA: “This is Eli’s biggest match of his entire career, and he’s achieved a match this big in such little time.”

JOHNSON: “He has a full plate with who he’s challenging. Jair is a two time 4CW Champion and a pillar of 4CW.”

VASSA: “Eli had a quick rise on that other abomination of a show that 4CW acquired earlier in the year. Every since coming to Adrenaline, the man has been unstoppable for the most part, only suffering a single loss in singles competition.”

JOHNSON: “His tag record is completely different but lucky for him, this isn’t a tag team match.”

VASSA: “This isn’t a tag team match, but with it being a falls count anywhere match, there’s no stopping outside individuals from getting involved.”

JOHNSON: “Eli has the Royal Family in his corner. Jair has Darren and Boogie, maybe Jason Cashe if he’s even able to function after that tiresome Pride Match earlier.”

VASSA: “We’ve had nothing but surprises all night long. Who knows what else may be in store before we call it a night and the 4CW Championship’s owner is decided.”

JOHNSON: “After a long match we just had with the Pride Championship, let’s skip the small talk and get right into this next one!”

The lights around Metro Radio Arena go dark for a brief period of time before a large spotlight illuminates the stage, revealing a choir decked in white robes.

POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following Falls Count Anywhere Match will be for the 4CW Championship and will be scheduled for one fall!”

On the big screen an image of the Union Jack waving in the breeze appears as the sound of a drumroll plays and ends in the crash of symbols, darkening the arena once more. After a few uncertain seconds the lights around the arena come back on fully as the sounds of a chorus playing the instrumental portion of the United Kingdom National Anthem echoes throughout the arena. A moment later, the choir chimes in and begins to sing.

“God save our gracious King

Long live our noble King

God save our King

Send him victorious

Happy and glorious

Long to reign over us

God save our King”

As the choir sings, Elijah Carlson emerges from the backstage area with his arms extended wide and a long, flowing robe of red, white and blue with his last name in script across the back covering him up. At the top of the entrance ramp, Eli drops down to his knees, his arms still held out wide, as his own personal announcer scurries out from the backstage area along with two British soldiers decked out in “Kings guard” attire, with the funny burry black hats and all, march out slowly and stand at attention beside Eli. His announcer then steps behind him and places a crown upon his head. A moment later, as the choir continues to sing, Eli stands up and allows the announcer to remove his robe for him before raising the microphone to his lips.

HERALD: ”The most excellent and royal Elijah Carlson commands all of his subjects to rise and stand at attention.”

The music and choir fall silent as Eli stands and waits patiently while the crowd showers him with a chorus of boo’s. Needless to say they’re not too fond of the fact that he is essentially mocking their monarch and country.

HERALD: ”Ladies and gentlemen.. Four Corners Wrestling proudly presents to you, standing six foot one inch tall and weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds, he is the twenty-sixteen Warzone of Horrors winner, the number one contender to the 4CW Championship and the UNDISPUTED PRINCE OF FOUR CORNERS WRESTLING… ELIJAH CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”

The soft sounds of a guitar begin to play, replacing the orchestral sounds of trumpets and violins from earlier as Eli begins his trek down the entrance ramp to the ring. As he moves along, the sounds of Alter Bridge’s “Show Me a Leader” picks up it’s pace as Eli slides into the ring.

“Show me a leader that won’t compromise

Show me a leader so hope never dies

We need a hero this time.”

Instead of taking to the ropes and playing to the crowd as he normally would, Eli merely removes the crown that had been placed upon his head and hands it to the referee, staring directly at the current 4CW Champion, Jair Hopkins. As the music fades, Eli continues to stand squarely in the middle of the ring, staring at his opponent without flinching or blinking once.

POWERS: “And the champion!”

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

“I’m a bread winner, you wanna make a fortune?

Place all your money on the black and on the red, n—

This ain’t a gamble, it’s a promise, I’m a head splitter

Y’all been sleepin’ on me, now it’s time to shake the bed, n—“

As “Self-Preservation” by Kutt Calhoun starts up, Hopkins appeared from the back, the only thing shining was the 4CW Championship belt around his waist as his appearance drew a large amount of cheers. Those who remained on the other side of the fence tried to wash out the sounds of the loud cheers but they remained strong. The soft-white spotlight followed Hopkins as he slowly made his way to the ramp and down it, arms out wide as he takes the moment all in.

POWERS: “From the “Concrete Jungle” in Brooklyn, New York, he stands at five feet, eight inches and weighs in at two hundred two pounds. He is the current and two time 4CW Champion, JAIR HHOOPPKKIINNSS!!!”

“I am the last of a dying breed

Live by one code that some gon’ heed

Get rich or die tryin’ so I don’t sleep

So cold in these streets I’m Kelvin”

The lights come back to normal as Hopkins continues on, he goes left, going down the ramp as he slaps all the hands that are reaching out. Looking to his right, he goes up and does the same on the right side, getting them all as well. He finally makes it all the way down and with a speed burst, he rolls underneath the bottom ring ropes as he gets to his feet and immediately climbs the nearest turnbuckle. Unwrapping the title from around his waist, he holds it up high in the air, showing it off as the camera flashes catches every frame of movement. Dropping down soon after, he moves around the ring as he waits for the match to begin.

VASSA: “There they are! The Champion and the Challenger!”

JOHNSON: “There has been a lot of build up leading to this moment. I can feel the electricity in the ring!”

VASSA: “The entire arena is electric right now. Listen to them!”

JOHNSON: “This one is for the biggest championship in all of 4CW, quite possibly the wrestling business. And it all goes down right here, right now, in Newcastle, England.”

VASSA: “For three years 4CW has been in business and over that time, I think that this anniversary show tops them all.”

JOHNSON: “There’s no doubt about it! This is the first time ever 4CW has visited a country outside of the United States. With the word ‘royalty’ being tossed around so much leading up to this, I can’t think of a better place for us to be than right here.”

VASSA: “I can and that’s back in the great country called the ‘Murica.”

JOHNSON: “But this is royalty we’re talking about here! Wrestling royalty.”

VASSA: “I don’t know about all that. I don’t see any royalty. I see two premiere athletes in the ring, one of which is the 4CW Champion.”

JOHNSON: “You’re stubborn, you know that?”

VASSA: “And you’re old as fuck. Stop sweating me!”

JOHNSON: “Enough with this nonsense and arguing back and forth with you. Let’s get on with the show!”

VASSA: “About goddamn time! This is our main event for Winter Wasteland. This is for the 4CW Championship! This is the final memory we will leave this god awful country before he head back home.”

JOHNSON: “They’re going to hate us if you don’t watch your mouth.”

VASSA: “Do I look like I give a fu–“

JOHNSON: “This isn’t about you! The fans here came to see 4CW, not listen to you talk about their country.”

VASSA: “Well then let’s get on with the match before I get bored and start firing off insults that could possibly start another world war.”

JOHNSON: “That sounds like a wonderful idea!”

With everyone in attendance anxious for the start of the match, the entire arena grows silent. Walking over to Hopkins, the official takes the 4CW Championship from him before walking back towards the center of the ring and lifting it above his head with both hands. Holding the championship as high as he can, the official turns to each side of the ring, presenting it to the England crowd. After making a full rotation, Larry Collins then walks to the ropes before handing the championship down to a member of the ringside crew.

Backing up towards the center of the ring, the official comes to a stop as he reaches his destination. Looking to his left, the official checks in with Eli who bounces back and forth in his corner, keeping his body loose. Pointing to the official, Eli then gives him a nod, signaling that he is ready to get things going. Looking to his right, the official then checks in with Jair who stands patient in his corner, focused on Eli ahead and ignoring his surroundings and the crowd behind him. After a few deep breaths, Hopkins then points to the official, giving him the signal that he is ready as well. With both men now ready to get things underway, the official throws his hand into the air quickly, signaling for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

VASSA: “Let’s go!”

JOHNSON: “It’s time to put it all on the line!”

Leaving their corners, both Eli and Jair approach each other until standing in the center of the ring, face to face, starting into each other’s eyes. The crowd awaits in silence as their eyes remain locked on the ring in the center of it all. After the two exchange a few words amongst each other, they then lock up in the center of the ring.

Both men try to overpower the other, remaining in the center of the ring as neither budges a single step. Gaining a little momentum, Jair begins to bend push Eli back, forcing him to lean as his feet remain planted on the mat. With a burst of energy, Eli then pushes Hopkins backwards, forcing him to lean a bit while his feet also remain planted on the mat.

After a few moments pass with the two locked up in the center of the ring, Eli then pulls Hopkins in with ease as Hopkins pushes his body forward to keep himself from being pushes back. Lifting his foot up from the canvas, Eli drives his knee into Hopkins’ stomach, forcing him to buckle over. Locking onto Hopkins’ wrist, Eli then stands him up before positioning himself behind Jair, holding him in a wrist lock.

Eli cranks down on the pressure, trying to snap Jair’s wrist in half. Reaching back with his free hand, Jair grabs onto the back of Eli’s head before swinging his torso downward, flipping Eli over his back and down to the mat with a snapmare. Popping back to his feet, Eli shakes his head back and forth a bit before looking to Hopkins with a smile on his face. Rubbing his wrist, Hopkins then calls for Eli to come at him.

VASSA: “If we were keeping points like this was a karate match, that would be one point for Jair.”

JOHNSON: “This isn’t karate, this is wrestling!”

VASSA: “OH REALLY?!?!”

Eli then charges towards Jair full speed before lunging towards him. Ducking down, Hopkins lifts Eli off his feet before dropping him instantly to the mat with a Samoan drop. The two quickly race to their feet, Eli somehow managing to stand first. Moving in quickly, Eli goes to grab onto Hopkins but catches a swift kick to the stomach instead. Locking onto Eli’s head, Jair then slams him face first to the mat with a front face slam.

Back on his feet, Jair circles Eli before stopping on the opposite side. Jumping straight into the air, Jair then comes down across Eli’s back with an elbow drop. Eli grunts upon the impact to his spine. Pushing himself up, Jair then pulls Eli to his feet. Locking onto Eli’s wrist, Jair then whips him to the corner. Crashing into the corner, Eli drapes his arms over the top ropes, holding himself up.

Backing up to the opposite corner, Jair begins waving his arms, pumping the crowd up. He then takes off, sprinting in Eli’s direction as fast as he can. About three-quarters of the way there, Jair leaps forward, soaring through the air and closing in on Eli with a body splash. Before Jair crashes into him, Eli ducks down and as Hopkins get within range, Eli stands straight up, lifting Hopkins over his head and flipping him over the top rope.

Grabbing onto the top rope with both hands, Jair uses them to maneuver himself to a landing on the apron. Throwing an elbow back, Eli hits Jair in the mouth, nearly knocking him off the apron if he didn’t have the ropes to hold on to. Eli then turns around and grabs onto Jair, clutching him and pulling him as closely as he can with the ropes between them. Holding Jair in place, Eli then begins hitting him with rapid knees to the stomach, knocking his breath away little by little as each one connects.

He then locks one arm around Jair’s head before reaching over him and grabbing the back of his pants. Driving his feet into the canvas, Eli lifts Jair up off the apron. Before he can pull Jair over the top rope, Jair begins kicking his legs before managing to make Eli drop him back down to the apron. Jair then grabs the back of Eli’s pants and lifts him up into the air and over the top rope. Falling backwards, Jair lands on the apron as he drops Eli down to the floor with a suplex.

JOHNSON: “Not even five minutes into this thing and it’s already been taken outside of the ring.”

VASSA: “Eli thought he was going to bring Hopkins back inside of the ropes but Jair had something else in mind.”

JOHNSON: “Luckily that apron was there to break Jair’s fall, or else he would have ended up on the floor like Eli.”

VASSA: “That was a nasty fall for Eli, flat on his back from above the top rope.”

Pulling himself up to his feet, Hopkins uses the ropes to speed up the process. Once standing, he waits patiently as Eli slowly begins to stir down below. As Eli slowly begins to rise to his feet with his back to the ring, Hopkins turns his back to Eli and faces the ring. Stepping up to the bottom rope, Hopkins begins bouncing up and down while holding on to the top rope. After looking over his shoulder one last time, he springboards himself off the rope and into the air as Eli rises to his feet. Flipping backwards through the air, Hopkins descends just in front of Eli, and as he does, he hooks his arm around Eli’s head and drives it down into the floor with a DDT.

JOHNSON: “Look at the athleticism from Hopkins with that springboard moonsault DDT!”

VASSA: “It’s pay-per-view time which means everyone pulls out the big flashy moves to impress those watching worldwide.”

JOHNSON: “Go big or go home, right?”

VASSA: “Exactly!”

Slow to his feet, Jair finally stands, showing a slight limp in his left leg as he walks around Eli’s body. Pulling Eli up to both knee, Hopkins then holds his head in place with one hand as he begins pounding away at his face with the other. After nearly ten punches, Jair then pulls Eli up and whips him towards the barricade. Just before Jair releases, Eli locks onto Jair’s wrist and pulls him into a short-arm clothesline, knocking him flat on his back.

With Jair down, Eli then begins stomping on his mid-section. He then pulls Jair up from the floor and hooks his arm around Jair’s head. In the blink of an eye, Eli then flips Jair over and onto his back with a snap suplex. Rolling in a fluid motion and mounting himself on top of Jair, Eli then unloads with vicious right and lefts. Knocking Jair into a daze, Eli then pushes himself up to his feet. Pulling Hopkins up from the floor, Eli then uses all of his strength to whip Jair stomach first into the barricade. As Jair hits the barricade, his body buckles over the top before his feet lift up from the floor and he flips over into the crowd.

VASSA: “These Newcastle fans are getting an up close and personal look at the 4CW action tonight.”

JOHNSON: “This is a falls count anywhere match. We could see this thing end up in the streets by the end of the night.”

VASSA: “Maybe these two can put up a better fight than the last street fight we had in 4CW when CJ got beat down in the parking lot at South Beach Brawl.”

Climbing over the barricade, Eli approaches Jair as he crawls through the crowd separating and creating a path for him. Grabbing onto Jair’s foot, Eli stops him in his tracks before rolling him over to his back. As Jair rolls over, he catches Eli off guard and kicks him in the face with his other leg, knocking Eli backwards and stumbling into the barricade. Jair then pops up to his feet as Eli pushes himself away from the barricade and charges at him full speed. Wrapping both arms around Jair’s waist, Eli tackles him to the floor.

The two then exchange punches back and forth as they roll through the crowd passing by at their feet. Pinning Jair to the floor, Eli then begins raining down on Jair with thunderous right hands. As each punch connects, the back of Jair’s head smacks against the floor. Drawing back for a knockout punch, Eli then goes to swing down before his fist comes to an abrupt stop.

A fan from the crowd grabs onto Eli’s arm and as Eli turns to look in his direction, another fans comes in from the other side and connects with a stiff punch to his jaw. Eli falls to his side off of Jair as a swarm of fans close in, kicking and stomping on Eli. The surrounding crowd then joins in by throwing food and drinks onto Eli, covering him in a complete mess. As Eli fails miserably at fighting the fans off, Jair slowly rises to his feet. Forcing himself between the fans, Jair rushes in and stomps Eli across the forehead, smashing his head against the floor.

VASSA: “The fans are rioting at ringside!”

JOHNSON: “There’s only one Royal Family around these lands and it isn’t the 4CW version.”

VASSA: “THIS IS MADNESS!!!”

Pulling Eli up from the floor, Jair smirks at the sight of him covered from head to toe in liquids and various food items. Jair then slaps him across the chest with a backhand chop, swatting food off of his body and into the mixture of fans. Pulling Eli through the crowd, Jair then launches him forward, stomach first into the barricade. As Eli’s feet lift off the floor and his body nearly topples over the top, Jair grabs onto the back of his tights and pulls him back down. He then wraps both arms around Eli’s waist and lifts him up and over, slamming him to the floor with a German suplex.

With Eli laid out on his back, legs and arms spread apart, Jair stands back to his feet. He then looks behind him and judges the distance between Eli and the barricade for a short moment. Shrugging his shoulders, Jair then points to the barricade as the fans in the vicinity erupt. Nodding in agreement with the fans reaction, Jair then turns to the barricade and climbs to the top, standing above the crowd at ringside. With his back turned to them all, Jair looks behind him once more before leaping backwards and flipping backwards in mid-air, coming down onto Eli’s chest with a moonsault double foot stomp.

JOHNSON: “OMFG!!!”

VASSA: “Hair just hit his finisher on Eli and the crowd is loving every bit of it!”

JOHNSON: “This entire arena is going crazy!”

VASSA: “No one imagined they’d have the action within feet of their faces.”

Dropping down to his knees, Jair then makes the cover over Eli as the nearby official hops the barricade and rushes over. Sliding in beside the two, the official then begins the three count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Popping his shoulder up from the floor, Eli breaks the officials count as the crowd surrounding them bursts into boos. Jair wastes no time and quickly stands to his feet. Pulling Eli up shortly after, Jair drags him towards the barricade before slinging him into it. Hitting the barricade, Eli flips up and over, crashing down to the floor on the other side.

Rolling over to all fours, Eli then begins crawling away as he slowly works himself upward to a walking position. Making his way towards the ramp, Eli staggers with each step as he wipes the food from his chest. Hopping over the barricade, Jair follows behind, catching up with him quickly at the base of the ramp. Grabbing onto Eli’s head, Jair pulls it down and applies a side headlock. With his other hand, Jair then begins slamming down on top of Eli’s head with solid punches.

Ripping his head away from Jair’s grip, Eli then kick Jair directly in the side of his left knee. Jair’s leg gives out from under him as he drops down to it. Shaking off the blows to the head from moments before, Eli then kicks Jair in the side of the shoulder and follows up with a stiff strike to the side of his neck. Pulling Jair up to his feet, Eli then hits him with a European uppercut, standing him straight up. Grabbing onto the back of Jair’s head with one hand, Eli drags him up the ramp, getting closer and closer to the nearby camera capturing all of the footage. Picking up the pace with each step, Eli then throws Jair forward, face first into the camera lens, giving the fans watching at home a close up before the picture cuts.

JOHNSON: “There goes one camera feed!”

VASSA: “Someone hurry up and get another camera on site!”

JOHNSON: “I have nothing on my monitor. What about you, Vinny?”

VASSA: “Mine’s deader than the baby Genie tried to create..”

The camera angle changes to one at the top of the ramp, traveling down the ramp and towards the action. The cameraman holding the camera that lost its picture picks it up from the floor right where Jair is down on all fours. Eli then rips the camera from his hands before kicking at him, scaring him off and up the ramp. Lifting the camera above his head, Eli then slams it down across Jair’s back, knocking him face first onto the ramp. He then grabs the cord attached to it and wraps it around his hand before ripping it out of the camera.

Stalking Jair, Eli then draws back and whips Jair across the back with the cord. Yelling from the lashing, Jair rolls back and forth in tremendous pain. Eli then draws back and hits Jair again across the back, and then again, and again. You can hear the pain in Hopkins’ howls as he rolls around on the ramp. Eli then wraps his other hand with the cord, leaving a bit of slack between both hands. Stepping over Jair’s back, Eli then reaches down and wraps the cord around Jair’s throat.

VASSA: “Jesus Christ what the fuck is he doing?!”

JOHNSON: “Anything goes and at this point, if there’s something close by that can be used as a weapon you better believe it will be used.”

Pulling back on the cord with both hands, it tights around Jair’s throat as Eli chokes him with it. Pulling as hard as he can, Eli takes a few steps back, pulling Jair up to his feet. Choking the life out of Jair, Eli strangles him with the cord. He then powers up and goes to lift Jair off his feet but before he can, Jair slams his upper body forward, lifting Eli up and flipping him over his body and down to his back. Free at this point, Jair stumbles backwards out of breath before slamming against the barricade.

JOHNSON: “Jair was able to escape that rather quickly.”

VASSA: “At least the choking part. Eli still gave him a few good lashing across the back.”

Slow to his feet, Eli rises up and looks across the ramp at Hopkins propped up against the barricade. Charging towards him, Eli draws back for a haymaker but before he can swing, Jair pushes himself off the barricade and wraps him up, driving him backwards across the ramp and slamming his back into the opposite barricade. Jair then unloads with a fury of body punches to Eli, pounding away at his ribs, drawing more attention to the ones that were broken not too long ago.

Jair then lifts Eli off his feet and drops him onto the top of the barricade, crushing his ribs against it. Eli moans loudly as the impact is made. Jair then rolls him over to his back while still on the barricade and begins pounding away at his ribcage. As each punch lands, Eli grunts loudly. Hopkins then raises both hands above his head and interlocks his fingers. Swinging downward with raw power, Jair slams down onto Eli’s ribs with a double axe-handle.

VASSA: “At Ante Up, Eli suffered broken ribs at the hands of Lauryn Wolfe. Over the past few months he’s had time and they’ve actually healed.”

JOHNSON: “It was a slow process because Eli wouldn’t take it easy. He kept showing up each and every Adrenaline, sacrificing himself to get to this point in his career.”

VASSA: “Well after tonight, I think he’ll be visiting the doctor and receiving the same news when he first found out his ribs were broken originally.”

Pulling Eli off of the barricade, Jair locks onto him and then lifts him up and over, dropping him onto the ramp with a suplex. Floating over, Jair then makes the cover as the official slides in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Kicking his legs up, Eli throws Hopkins off of him, breaking up the count. Shocked, Jair looks down at Eli and shakes his head in disbelief. He then pushes himself up and pulls Eli up shortly after. Walking Eli up to the top of the ramp, Jair throws him forward into the structure built around the entrance way. Bouncing off, Eli falls back into Jair’s arms as he wraps him up with both arms and lifts him into the air instantly. Extending his legs backwards, Eli wraps them around Hopkins’ waist, stopping their momentum upward. He then wraps his arm around Jair’s head before rolling forward, pulling Hopkins down and driving his face into the entrance stage.

JOHNSON: “In desperation, Eli was able to counter that suplex attempt from the champ.”

VASSA: “I don’t know what that was or how he even did it, but that was some quick thinking on Eli’s part.”

Rolling in opposite directions, Eli and Jair remain on the floor and nearly out of it. Eli then crawls towards the end of the stage and stops at the drop off. Scanning the floor below, he spots something in his eye before sliding off the stage and dropping to the lower floor. Limping and leaning to one side, Eli holds his hand against his ribs. With each step, his face cringes but soon he comes to a stop. In front of him, a table with recording equipment stands.

Swiping away the devices off the top of the table, Eli then lifts up one end and drags it back towards the stage. Propping the table against the side of the stage, Eli struggles to squat down but does so. He then lifts the bottom of the table up and slides the entire thing onto the stage. Climbing up the side of the stage, Eli pulls himself up to the top before rolling over to his back, exhausted and feeling the pains from his busted up ribs.

VASSA: “We have a table in the mix now. I just want to know what are they going to do next.”

JOHNSON: “There’s no telling. They’ve already been in the ring, in the crowd, on the ramp, and no on top of the entrance stage.”

VASSA: “How much more can these two take?!”

JOHNSON: “Your guess is just as good as mine.”

Opening his eyes, Eli is startled as Hopkins is right there standing over him. Throwing his fist downward, Jair hits Eli in the chops with a solid right hand. He then pulls him up to his feet. Wrapping his arm around Eli’s head and hooking his leg, Jair then goes to lift him for a fisherman suplex. Swinging wildly, Eli connects with a right hand to Jair’s kidney, stopping him from lifting anymore. Eli then pulls his leg away from Jair and lifts him up instead, dropping him across the table with a suplex of his own.

Back to his feet, Eli drags Jair off of the table and right next to it. Lifting the end of the table up with one hand, Eli then grabs onto Jair’s left leg and slides it underneath the table. With Jair’s leg now in place, Eli lifts the table even high with both hands before slamming it down onto Jair’s knee.

JOHNSON: “AAAHHHHHH!!!”

Yelling at the top of his lungs, Jair quickly slides the table off of his leg and grabs onto it. Rocking back and forth, Jair groans heavily as Eli looks on with a grin from ear to ear. Grabbing the table, Eli then pulls the legs out from under it and extends them. He then stands the table up and drags it close to the entrance way. He then turns his attention back to Jair, still down and in a serious amount of pain. Walking over to Jair, Eli then lifts him up and walks him over to the table before rolling him over onto it. Turning in the opposite direction, Eli walks to the entrance curtain and disappears into the back.

JOHNSON: “Where’s he going now?”

VASSA: “Catering?”

The camera view changes to a shot from the back as Eli enters an empty room. He then locks his eyes on a large box used for carrying sound equipment and begins rolling back to where he came from. The show then changes back to the stage area where Eli appears rolling the box through the curtain. Stopping just a few feet away from Jair, Eli positions the box against the structure surrounding the entrance way.

Meanwhile, Hopkins rolls off of the table and down to his feet. With Eli preoccupied, Hopkins limps in behind him and hits him in the back of the head with a forearm shot, smashing his face against the box. Grabbing onto the box, Eli uses it to hold himself up as Hopkins limps to the opposite side. Planting both hands onto the box, Jair begins wheeling it towards Eli, forcing him to back step across the entrance way. Pushing harder and harder, they gain speed until it all comes to an abrupt stop, squashing Eli between the box and the structure.

VASSA: “Jair has him pinned against the stage set up.”

JOHNSON: “His ribs! Jair is crushing his ribs even more!”

Jair then pulls the box away as he steps backwards, leaving Eli propped up against the structure. After clearing about ten feet between them, Jair then drives the box forward, rolling it as he limps along and gains speed. As it closes in, the box crashes into Eli, more so his ribcage, pressing him against the structure.

JOHNSON: “I thought that Prison Escape Match was bad. These two are damn near trying to kill each other as well.”

VASSA: “It’s like Omar Little said, you come at the king you best not miss.”

JOHNSON: “Who?”

VASSA: “Goddamn, Steve.”

Jair then climbs up onto the box, but as he does, Eli begins rolling it in the opposite direction. Thinking on his feet, Jair leaps from the box and grabs onto the bottom of the structure just above the entrance way. Eli quickly turns to him and goes to grab ahold of his legs but Jair begins pulling himself up out of reach. Looking to the structure at the side of the entrance way, Eli then begins to climb up it as well.

JOHNSON: “Where are they going now?”

VASSA: “Nowhere to go but up at this point.”

Pulling himself up to the top of the structure, Jair hangs on tightly before standing as he catches his breath. Across from him, Eli continues his climb to the top from the side. Once at the top, Eli pulls himself up to his feet and looks to Jair who stands as well. With really nowhere to go, Jair prepares himself as Eli walks towards him.

VASSA: “These two are about to exchange hands in front of the big screen!”

As Eli gets within range, Jair takes a swing and connects with a right to the side of his head. Eli fires back with a punch of his own, clocking Hopkins across the jaw. The two then exchange punches wildly as the entire arena erupts. Beside them, the big screen displays the current camera angle, showing them fighting as well. Stunning Eli with a stinging right between the eyes, Jair then locks onto his head and slams it against the big screen. The entire structure begins shaking as Hopkins slams it again and again before finally cracking the screen with Eli’s head.

Pulling Eli’s head down, Jair then hooks his arm around it before falling back and driving his head into the structure with a DDT. Hitting the edge, Jair slips off the side but grabs onto the structure with one hand. As Eli lies motionless at the top, Jair hangs for a few moments before swinging his body and hooking his right leg around the top. Jair pulls himself up to the top then slowly, but manages to finally do so.

Standing up, Jair then pulls Eli up to his feet. Out of nowhere, Eli slams both fists onto Jair’s chest, driving him backwards towards the edge. Realizing he’s about to fall off the side, jair quickly looks behind him and spots the box not too far away. Jumping backwards, Jair launches himself off the top of the structure. Flying through the air, Jair barely lands on top of the box but his left knee crashes hard against the top corner.

The momentum from Jair’s jump then causes the box to begin rolling towards the end of the stage. Gaining speed with each foot traveled, the box then reaches the edge and shoots off the side. Jair’s body launches from the top of the box and soars through the air before crashing into another barricade separating the stage area from the nearby fans. Jair’s body folds over as he shows no signs of life.

VASSA: “HOLD FUCKING SHIT!!!”

JOHNSON: “This is absolute carnage!”

VASSA: “Jair doesn’t look too good.”

Watching from the distance, Eli walks to the edge of the structure before dropping down onto the nearby table. Clutching his ribs, Eli slowly limps to the edge of the stage, overlooking the wreckage below. Across from him, Jair begins showing signs of life as he moans loudly and cares for his left knee. Jair then pushes himself up from the side of the barricade and looks ahead to Eli. Hobbling towards him, Jair barely puts any pressure on his left leg as he steps onto it. Nearing the stage, Jair collapses to his side, nearly out of it.

Seeing that Jair is within range, Eli scans the area and judges the distance. he then turns his back to Jair and stands on the very edge of the stage. After a few deep breaths and massaging his ribs, Eli then shows a burst of energy as he leaps backwards and twists within the air, coming down on Jair with a Phoenix Splash.

JOHNSON: “ASCENSION!!!”

VASSA: “WHOA!!!”

JOHNSON: “Eli just landed his signature Phoenix Splash across Jair from the top of the stage.”

VASSA: “Goddamn, that kid is fearless.”

Covering Jair, Eli then hooks his leg as the official races over and drops in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: “Eli’s done it! He’s defeated Jair Hopkins!”

VASSA: “We have a new 4CW Champion!”

JOHNSON: “Eli’s put Jair down and win the championship!”

“Motivation” hits the speakers as the crowd begins booing heavily, displeased with the outcome of the match. Unable to get up, Eli rolls over to his side, lying next to Jair as the official checks in with them both.

VASSA: “Neither one of them looks like they’re in good shape.”

JOHNSON: “Jair has taken quite a bit of damage to his knee and I can already tell that Eli’s ribs are broken again.”

VASSA: “These two took each other to their limits in what was an outright war from the sound of the bell.”

A member of the ringside crew races over with the 4CW Championship and hands it to the official. The official then assists Eli up to his feet, holding him up more than Eli is holding himself up. Presenting Eli the 4CW Championship, the official then raises Eli’s arm into the air as Eli holds the championship with his other hand tightly against his body.

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

POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen, your winner and new 4CW Champion… ELIJAH CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”

Rushing out from the back, Genie steps out onto the stage in panic. She races over towards the end of the stage and hops down to the floor. Embracing Eli, she wraps her arms around him, hurting him as she does so.

VASSA: “Well isn’t that a touching moment?”

JOHNSON: “You act like you’re surprised to see her out here. Remember, it was her who helped Eli win this match in the first place.”

VASSA: “After her match earlier, I am surprised to say the least.”

Both Genie and the official, Larry Collins, hold Eli up as a team of medical staff rush onto the scene. Not far from the new 4CW Champion, Jair begins stirring around slightly, holding his knee as the medical team begins assisting him. Eli then drops to his knees, slipping through the officials and Genie’s arms. Wrapping his arms across the championship, he falls over to his side as the medical staff quickly aid him. At this point, Genie begins worrying at the sight of her husband in a world of pain.

JOHNSON: “This doesn’t look good for either Jair or Eli.”

VASSA: “They’ve both beaten each other into some serious injuries here tonight.”

JOHNSON: “I wish them both a speedy recovery.”

VASSA: “Hell, this entire night has been full of some brutal stuff both in and out of the ring.”

JOHNSON: “With four championships on the line tonight, only one changed owners as Elijah Carlson is your new 4CW Champion ladies and gentlemen.”

VASSA: “The fans here are hating every bit of it!”

JOHNSON: “Let them hate! We’re out of time now anyway and this show is complete.”

VASSA: “I’m so ready to get back home!”

JOHNSON: “You and me both, Vinny. But we only have one more night in this foreign land.”

VASSA: “Well then, let’s get out of here before this crowd riots! I’m not trying to get caught in the middle of that.”

JOHNSON: “That sounds like a plan to me.”

VASSA: “We’re leaving together. You know that right?”

JOHNSON: “What?”

VASSA: “After what happened earlier, I’m not going anywhere alone!”

JOHNSON: “I guess I have no other choice. That’s all the time we have for tonight folks. We’ll see you in two weeks as we head back to our home country for Adrenaline fifty-nine, live from the Royal Farms Arena in Baltimore, Maryland!”

VASSA: “Home of The mother fucking Wire!”

JOHNSON: “That concludes our three year anniversary show and Winter Wasteland. From the 4CW family to yours, we wish you all a happy New Year and we will see you in twenty-seventeen! I’m Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: “And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good night folks!”

The final scene shows Eli and Jair both being placed onto stretchers as the side of the stage. With the 4CW Championship held tightly against his chest, Eli looks to Genie as she looks on, worried out of her mind. The scene then slowly begins to fade out as the sound of boos flood the picture until there is nothing the Showtime logo.