Making his 4CW debut, Kiba Bunson faced off with Vesanus. Getting an early start, Kiba took an MMA approach with his attack as he slowly worked Vesanus with hand attacks. Putting up a bit of a fight at first, Vesanus was able to hang in there with a few moves, the highlight for him being reverse beckbreaker that only slowed down Kiba momentarily. Taking lead once more, Kiba stopped Vesanus in his tracks with a series of suplexes – back to back snap suplexes followed up with a fisherman’s suplex that seemed to have been the final nail in the coffin of Vesanus’ fight. After hitting Vesanus with his Seeing Red, Kiba finished him off for good with The Ninth Circle, putting him away with the one, two, and the three!

In the locker room, Lauryn Wolfe could be seen warming up and doing a few stretches in preparation for the upcoming triple threat tag team match. Right by her was Amanda Zolnerowich, looking on with her arms crossed. She simply stood there at first, though as the camera picks up on her face, it looked as though she had some things on her mind. While Lauryn was prepping herself, Amanda decides to finally speak.
ZOLNEROWICH: “I still can’t believe that you’re actually doing this, Lauryn.”
WOLFE: “Yeah?”
ZOLNEROWICH: “Yeah. I mean, you definitely don’t come across as a girl that hangs out with a group of people. It’s still kind of odd to me how willing you are to be with Gen Now.”
Amanda shrugs. Lauryn, arching a brow at her, suddenly stops midway through her stretching routine to stand and look at her trainer directly.
WOLFE: “I might be a bit of a bitch, but that doesn’t mean that I won’t associate a few people here and there. I can tolerate them. Besides, if I was really going to distance myself from people entirely, then you and I wouldn’t even be here.”
ZOLNEROWICH: “Oh, I dunno, Lauryn. The whole bunch of you aren’t even all that close, ya know. I’ve only seen one of ’em come over, and that was Bronx.”
Lauryn has a confused look on her face as she looks at Amanda, not really sure why her trainer were saying the things that she said. The uncertainty from the decorated vet was certainly unusual to her.
WOLFE: “Come on now, don’t be like that. We’ve hung out on several occasions. As a matter of fact, why do you even care?”
Biting her bottom lip, Amanda didn’t really want to continue. However, Lauryn still has her eyes looking straight at her, and with the bit of prodding that was done, there was no way that Wolfe was going to let Zolnerowich off the hook that easily. With a sigh, Amanda’s gaze averts slightly to the ground as she speaks in a more lowly.
ZOLNEROWICH: “Lauryn… you’re not tryna use this group as an easy way for you to get title opportunities, right…?”
Lauryn, initially shocked by that inquiry, blinks a few times as she let’s that question register in her mind.
WOLFE: “What? N-no. Why the hell would you ever think that?”
Wolfe looks somewhat disrespected by that question, and Amanda has a slight frown on her face as she realizes that her words upset her student.
ZOLNEROWICH: “I meant no disrespect with what I said, but I just don’t know why else you would be affiliated with a group. From my own experience in this sport, I’ve seen a lot of stables come together and use that kind of platform to get opportunities – most of the time unfairly. I just don’t wanna see ya become one of those people that have to rely on others to get ahead, ya know? It’s for ya own good is all I’m sayin’.”
Although Amanda meant no trouble, Lauryn didn’t see it that way. That was why she shook her head and let out a chuckle, being in a state of complete disgust and disbelief.
WOLFE: “I honestly can’t believe you… You’re seriously doing this?”
ZOLNEROWICH: “Lauryn, I’m just-“
WOLFE: “Look. I don’t need Generation Now to help me out here. In fact, Bronx and I are going to go out there and put on a clinic. We’re not the Fake Royals who need each other from time to time to rescue one another. We don’t need that shit. We stand our ground and we fight through anyone that wants to discredit us. As a matter of fact, it seems as though you don’t have a whole lot of faith in me. It’s like the same shit with the Fate Title. Telling me not to choke again.”
Amanda’s features soften while Lauryn’s become hard as irritation overcame the young woman. Amanda tries to respond to Lauryn, but the brazen brawler wasn’t having any of it. She throws her hands up and shakes her head.
WOLFE: “You know what? I’m not even going to get into it with you. Not right now, and certainly not when Gen Now is having it’s biggest opportunity to date. I don’t have time for this shit. I’m out.”
As Amanda was about to say something, Lauryn immediately bolts out of the locker room, clearly pissed by the exchange. The camera focuses on Amanda as she has her hands on her hips and frowns, coming to terms with what just happened.
ZOLNEROWICH: “God dammit…”


POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following no holds barred contest is scheduled for one fall!”
“Monster” by Skillet plays over the sound system as Lord Raab comes out through the curtain with Henry Losak.
POWERS: “Introducing to the ring from Cologne, Germany, weighing in at two hundred fifty pounds and standing six feet, four inches tall! He is “4CW’s Green Disease Monster”, LORD RRAAAABB!!!”
Raab and Losak stand at the top of the entrance ramp, looking towards the ring. Raab then slowly proceeds towards the ring. He then high fives the fans before he walks up the ringside steps before entering the ring underneath the top rope. He crouches down in the corner, moving back and forth, rubbing his hands together in excitement and rolling his neck around. He remains focused with anger in his eyes as he waits for the match to begin as Henry Losak stands at ringside.
POWERS: “And the opponent!”
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 and two time XTV 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.

VASSA: “Kicking off the show, we have two 4CW originals, Lord Raab and Jason Cashe, battling it out in a no holds barred match.”
JOHNSON: “Things have gotten a little hectic between these two over the weeks leading up to this event. Tonight they get to settle up once and for all.”
VASSA: “It all started with Raab showing Cashe some sympathy in his time of struggle.”
JOHNSON: “That didn’t end well for him. After that, Cashe took it upon himself to attack Raab during his match, costing him the entire thing.”
VASSA: “We watched as Cashe snapped that night, screaming no as he hit Raab over and over while he was unconscious on the floor.”
JOHNSON: “It didn’t end there! Getting some revenge, Raab took a cattle prod to Cashe, electrocuting him on the spot.”
JOHNSON: “Both of these men have found themselves in a bit of a slump as of late. A win for either is a start to get them back on track.”
VASSA: “That’s if they don’t kill each other here tonight. This is a no holds barred contest and anything is bound to happen.”
JOHNSON: “You’re absolutely right, Vinny! With no rules, I wouldn’t be surprised if both men left tonight’s event on a stretcher headed straight for the ER.”
VASSA: “A lot of folks underestimate Raab, but this type of match puts him directly in the middle of his element. I just hope Cashe isn’t taking things lightly.”
JOHNSON: “I hope neither man is taking things lightly. With these two in the ring against each other under these rules and given their past, this is guaranteed to be a warzone within those ropes.”
VASSA: “We’re not talking about Fright Night either! We’re talking about right here at All or Nothing, Lord Raab versus Jason Cashe with no rules whatsoever!”
In the center of the ring, the official stands cautiously as both Cashe and Raab bounce back and forth in their corners, eager for the sound of the bell. Looking over to Raab’s corner first, there is no hesitation as Raab quickly gives the official a nod before slamming his fist into his palm. The official then turns his attention to Cashe who remains in his corner bouncing back and forth. Not giving the official a signal, Cashe stalls the start of the match momentarily before bursting out of his corner.
Charging across the ring, Cashe zips by the official, brushing against him as he quickly passes by. Caught by surprise, Raab hesitates momentarily, leaving himself nowhere to go as Cashe quickly closes in and corners him. Kicking his foot up from the mat in stride, Cashe plants it into Raab’s gut with a running big boot, forcing him to buckle over as the wind is knocked from his lungs.


Grabbing onto Raab’s head with both hands, Cashe holds it in place before hitting him in the face with a lifting knee, standing him straight up. Stepping in behind Raab, Cashe reaches back with both hands and locks onto Raab’s head. Stepping up onto the turnbuckle, Cashe walks up to the top rope before pushing himself away and dropping Raab to the canvas with a cutter from the top.
VASSA: “Hold fuck, Cashe isn’t wasting anytime!”
JOHNSON: “The bell just rang and Cashe has already dropped Raab to the mat with the UTI!”
VASSA: “From the top of the corner!”
Rolling over to his stomach, Cashe pushes himself up to all fours before crawling over Raab and making the cover. Sliding in from across the side of the ring, the official begins the three count.

Popping his shoulder up from the mat, Raab breaks the officials count as the crowd stirs at the sight. Surprised, Cashe looks down at Raab as a smile comes to his face before pushing himself up to his feet. Grabbing onto Raab, Cashe slowly pulls him up to his feet. Out of nowhere, Raab reaches up blindly with both hands and locks onto the sides of Cashe’s head. Digging his thumbs into Cashe’s eyes, Raab forces Cashe to let go of him. Quickly, Cashe locks his hands around Raab’s wrists, fighting to pull his Raab’s hands away from his head. Lifting Cashe into the air with his thumbs still in his eyes, Raab holds Cashe up momentarily before launching him backwards and throwing him into the corner.
Flying through the air, Cashe’s back crashes against the corner before dropping to his feet. Running forward, Raab closes the short distance between the two and nearly takes Cashe’s head off with a running clothesline. As Raab puts all of his weight behind the clothesline, Cashe’s feet lift up from the mat before he flips backwards over the top rope. Smacking the apron, Cashe bounces off and then falls to the top step, bounces to the second and then finally the floor before stretching his arms and legs out and lying motionless.

JOHNSON: “We knew this match was going to find its way to the outside sooner or later, but I didn’t imagine it would involve a nasty fall like that one.”
VASSA: “Did you see his head bounce off each step on the way to the floor?”
JOHNSON: “I did, and it wasn’t pretty.”
Looking down at Cashe from inside of the ring, Raab appears happy at the sight of Cashe laid out across the floor. HE then dips through the ropes and steps out onto the apron. Backing up along the apron, Raab creates a bit of distance between the two before he runs forward. Closing the gap, Raab then leaps from the apron and flies through the air, coming down on Cashe with a knee drop to the chest. Rolling off of Cashe in a fluid motion, Raab grabs onto the barricade just a foot in front of him, stopping his momentum.
Standing to his feet, Raab slowly makes his way over to Cashe before reaching down and grabbing him. Pulling Cashe to his feet, Raab holds him in place before trapping both of his arms. Slamming his head forward, Raab begins hitting Cashe repeatedly with vicious headbutts. He then pushes Cashe away a bit and steps in behind him. Wrapping both arms around Cashe’s waist, Raab lifts him into the air before falling back and dropping Cashe onto his neck on the ringside steps.

VASSA: “Holy shit!”
Cashe’s body tumbles over lifelessly before landing on the hard floor below. Quickly, the official races over to check on his motionless body as Raab slowly gets to his feet.
JOHNSON: “This isn’t good folks. I think Cashe may seriously be hurt right now.”
VASSA: “It looked like he just snapped his neck from that German suplex onto the steps.”
Cashe still hasn’t moved as he lays face down to the floor. Standing to his feet, the official begins waving his hands wildly towards the back before dropping back to his knees and checking in with Cashe.
JOHNSON: “This doesn’t look good at all.”
VASSA: “Tell me this isn’t happening, Steve.”
JOHNSON: “I wish I could but you’re seeing the same thing that I am.”
Racing out from the back, EMT’s make their way down the ramp before stepping onto the scene. As they move in towards Cashe, Raab quickly goes into a rage and grabs onto the closest one he can get his hands on. Slinging the man backwards, Raab throws him into the barricade and then charges towards another member of the EMT crew. Drawing back, Raab then lunges forward and clocks one in the back of the head, dropping him straight to the floor. The last EMT turns around in terror as Raab screams in his face. Before Raab can make another move, the EMT drops his gear and darts off in the opposite direction.
VASSA: “You’re scaring all the help away, Raab!”
JOHNSON: “Come on man!”
Kneeling down, Raab grabs onto Cashe’s head and begins twisting his neck to the side. The official tries to pry Raab away from Cashe but can’t as Raab is too powerful for him. Standing up, Raab pulls Cashe up to his feet. Raab then yells for Losak to come over and he does without delay. Shoving Cashe over to Losak, Raab yells for him to hold him in place. Pinning Cashe’s arms behind his back, Losak holds in his place as Cashe’s head hands down. Raab then turns to a nearby member of the ringside crew sitting in a chair. Scaring him off, Raab then picks the chair up and folds it as the fans at ringside cheer wildly.
Before Raab turns around, Cashe starts to come to life as his head slowly begins rolling back and forth before he raises it in pain. Throwing his head back, Cashe clocks Losak right between the eyes, hurting his neck in the process. Losak quickly releases him and stumbles backwards into the side of the ring where he then catches himself. Cashe then turns his sights to Raab who still has his back turned to him. Limping towards Raab, Cashe closes in just before Raab turns around to face him.


The crowd gasps as Cashe kicks Raab right between the legs. Ripping the chair away from Raab’s hands, Cashe then thrusts it forward, hitting Raab across the throat with the top of the backrest, dropping him to his knees. Turning around with the chair in hand, Cashe slowly limps towards Losak who trembles in fear. Begging for his life, Losak holds on tightly to the apron with nowhere to go. Gripping the chair tightly with both hands, Cashe then takes a swing overhead and drives the chair downward onto the top of Losak’s head.

JOHNSON: “The good news is, Cashe is alive!”
VASSA: “And the bad news is, Henry Losak is now dead. Rest in piss.”
Stepping backwards away from Losak, Cashe falls right into Raab’s arms. Wrapping them both around Cashe’s waist, Raab goes to lift him up for another German suplex but quickly gets stopped as Cashe swings the chair overhead and slams it over Raab’s head. In a daze, Raab doesn’t let go of Cashe as he keeps his arms wrapped around him tightly. Cashe then drops the chair and begins throwing elbows back and crushing Raab’s face over and over before eventually freeing himself. Stunned, Raab stumbles backwards as Cashe quickly spins around and connects with a stiff striking elbow, dropping him to the floor.
VASSA: “Wake up call!”
JOHNSON: “More like the Mark of Jason!”
Hitting the floor hard, Raab quickly rolls over to his stomach before pushing himself up to all fours.
JOHNSON: “Well isn’t this something.”
VASSA: “Is he getting up after that Mark of Jason?”
JOHNSON: “You don’t see that everyday.”
Shocked at the sight, Cashe stands back for a moment as he rubs the side of his neck. Rising to his feet, Raab slowly turns to Cashe who continues to look over, favoring his neck from the near career ending fall earlier. Cashe then charges towards Raab and takes a swing for his head. Side stepping Cashe, Raab fires back with a stiff jab to the neck, nearly bringing tears to his eyes. Raab then spins Cashe around and locks onto the back of his head. Pulling Cashe along, Raab drags him to the corner of the ring before slamming his head forward, smashing Cashe’s face into the ringpost.

Raab then rolls Cashe up onto the apron before turning to the nearby ringside steps and ascending to the top. Walking along the apron, Raab then pulls Cashe up to his feet. Leaning Cashe’s head over the top rope, he presses Cashe’s throat against the top before reaching up underneath the rope and locking onto Cashe’s head. Pulling Cashe’s head down and pressing the rope harder against Cashe’s throat, Raab begins choking Cashe on the apron. Fighting to pull himself away, Cashe slowly begins wearing himself down as Raab chokes the life out of him. After nearly a minute, Raab then releases Cashe’s head before turning him around to face him head on. Popping his knee up, Raab drives it into Cashe’s stomach, forcing him to buckle over. Wrapping his arm around Cashe’s head, Raab then falls backwards off the apron, pulling Cashe along with him and planting his head into the floor before with a DDT from the apron.
JOHNSON: “Oh my god!”
VASSA: “I think Raab is purposely trying to snap his neck in half!”
JOHNSON: “I think you may be onto something, Vin.”
Crawling over Cashe, Raab makes the cover as the official races over beside them with the count.

JOHNSON: “He kicked out?! What?!”
VASSA: “Cashe is still in it folks! He isn’t going down that easy.”
JOHNSON: “There wasn’t anything easy about that.”
Looking up to the official in disbelief, Raab is speechless at the result of Cashe kicking out with nearly a split second left before the officials hand would have slapped the floor for the three. Raab then locks onto Cashe’s head and begins slamming it into the floor over and over, growing more and more angry each time Cashe’s head kisses the floor. Raab then pushes himself up to his feet and pulls Cashe up right behind him. Walking Cashe to the side of the ring, Raab then rolls him underneath the bottom rope and back inside.
Reaching up and grabbing onto the ropes, Raab then pulls himself up to the apron and enters the ring just as Cashe begins to slowly crawl in the opposite direction. Grabbing onto Cashe’s foot, Raab stops him in his tracks before pulling him in. Rolling Cashe over to his back, Raab then stomps on his midsection over and over. Caring for his neck, Cashe leaves his midsection open for Raab’s assault, taking the kicks as the rain down on him. Raab then pulls Cashe to his feet.
Locking onto Cashe wrist, Raab goes to whip him to the ropes but before he can release, Cashe reverses and sends Raab off to the races instead, dropping down to one knee in the process. As Raab comes back on the rebound, Cashe plants his hand to the mat and pops up into a three-point stance. Bursting upwards, Cashe wraps his arms around Raab’s waist as he closes in, tackling him to the mat.

JOHNSON: “He had quite the technique with that tackle.”
VASSA: “Looked like a natural JJ Watt if you ask me.”
JOHNSON: “Now I wouldn’t go that far.”
Mounting himself on top of Raab, Cashe then draws back and roars before swinging downward and connecting with a vicious elbow shot to Raab’s face. Drawing back again, Cashe takes another swing, and then another, hitting Raab with multiple elbow shots as he screams throughout the entire attack.
VASSA: “Now this looks a little familiar.”
JOHNSON: “This is exactly what he did to Kaylyn James Evans at the very first Fright Night.”
VASSA: “How did that work out for her?”
JOHNSON: “Not too good!”
VASSA: “And she was even his lover at the time, poor girl.”
Pounding away at Raab face, Cashe continues his assault with deadly elbow shots, covering Raab’s face in his own green blood. The green liquid covers Cashe’s arm more and more as he hits Raab over and over, roaring like a gladiator killing their opponent. Drawing back one last time, Cashe swings down harder than any elbow shot before, crushing his elbow right between Raab’s eyes and slamming the back of his head against the canvas. Lying motionless, a pool of green liquid puddles up around Raab’s head. Cashe then reaches down with both hands and begins pulling at the mask that has been previously melted and stapled to his face.
JOHNSON: “What’s he doing now? Raab hasn’t taken that mask off in a very long time.”
VASSA: “Personally, I don’t think it would hurt him to let Cashe remove it and at least give it a good wash.”
JOHNSON: “That thing is covered in green slime. I think it’s safe to say that it is officially ruined.”
After a short struggle, Cashe finally pulls the mask off of Raab’s face, only to be surprised as a second mask covers Raab’s face, the original one. Holding the green liquid covered mask, Cashe then slides it over his head, smearing green liquid over his face. With the mask now on, Cashe looks back down to Raab only to catch a face full of even more green liquid as Raab spits the green mist out of his mouth. Quickly covering his eyes, Cashe falls backwards off of Raab and hits the mat, blinded from all of his surroundings.
Raab then slowly begins to stir before pushing himself up and rising to his feet. Across from him, Cashe rolls back and forth on the mat, screaming in agony as the liquid is now burning his eyes. Raab then moves in and pulls Cashe to his feet. Keeping his head held down, Raab places it between his legs before hooking both of Cashe’s arms.

VASSA: “What the hell is in that stuff?!”
JOHNSON: “Supposedly it’s Raab’s blood.”
VASSA: “Is he a fucking alien?!”
JOHNSON: “I don’t know about that, but he has Cashe in position for the Killabuster and this could very well end the match if he can pull it off.”
VASSA: “Here he go–“
Cashe then pulls himself away from Raab just as he is about to lift him up for the Killabuster. Lunging forward, Cashe drives both fists into Raab’s chest, pushing him back a few steps. He then wipes the green liquid from his eyes at the right time to see Raab coming back towards him angry. As Raab closes in, Cashe hits him with a right jab, stopping him in place. Cashe then hits Raab with another jab, and then another, walking Raab backwards across the ring. Raab’s back hits the ropes and his backwards movement comes to as end as Cashe delivers one final jab. Cashe then grabs onto Raab’s arm and whips him to the ropes across the ring. As Raab bounces off the ropes, Cashe quickly moves towards him and as they collide, Cashe lifts Raab into the air before dropping him to his back with a pop-up sit-out spinebuster.
VASSA: “Ohhhhh, what was that?”
JOHNSON: “That was a perfectly executed sit-out spinebuster.”
VASSA: “What’s it called though?”
JOHNSON: “I just told you.”
VASSA: “Whatever it was Cashe seems to think it’s enough to put Raab down for good.”
JOHNSON: “He’s going for the pin!”
Hooking Raab’s leg, Cashe rolls over with his back against Raab for the pin as the official rushes over with the count.

With that, the entire arena rises to their feet in excitement as the dual between two 4CW originals has come to an end. Covered from his head to his stomach in green liquid, Cashe slowly rises to his feet with the mask covering his messy face. The official then steps in beside him and raises his arm into the air as the final bell sounds.

POWERS: “Here is your winner, JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”
Pulling his arm away from the official, Cashe takes one final look at Raab before turning away and heading for the ropes. Limping with each step, he grabs onto the ropes as he comes to a stop. Holding his neck, Cashe turns his entire body around to look at Raab’s fallen body once more. He then exits through the ropes and walks up the ramp as the fans on both sides of him cheer in excitement.
JOHNSON: “There you have it folks, after a long fought battle here tonight, Cashe walks away with the win over rival 4CW original, Lord Raab.”
VASSA: “It wasn’t an easy contest as some would of thought it would be, not by any means.”
JOHNSON: “These two literally gave each other hell here tonight but only one could walk away with the win.”
VASSA: “Not only did he walk away with the win, but he also has a trophy to take home with Raab’s mask.”
JOHNSON: “I think Raab expected this. Why else would he wear two masks to the ring tonight?”
VASSA: “More cushion and protection for his face, duh!”
JOHNSON: “I don’t know, but it’s going to be interesting to see where this goes.”
VASSA: “For Cashe, this needs to go straight to the hospital. He needs to have his neck checked out after those brutal blows he received from Raab.”
JOHNSON: “For a moment there I expected the worst. I thought we literally just witnessed his last match ever.”
VASSA: “It was quite the scare. I’m just glad to see that he’s up and walking.”

Moments after the match against Lord Raab, Jason Cashe comes into the back through the curtains. There waiting for him was an old friend and 4CW Lead Interviewer, Gabriel Hartman. A smile to greet him but Cashe wasn’t smiling back and he had no interest in talking to Hartman or the cameraman with him.
HARTMAN: “Jason! Now that you’ve put Lord Raab behind you. What are your plans? Who is next one to “gain” your attention? Williams? The Pride Championship? What about the returning Dakota? Can fans get excited about THAT match now?”
The pace of Jason Cashe moves one step to the right, wanting to just pass Hartman up. Yet the Interview doesn’t let up and steps into Cashe’s lane. A dangerous place to be for some and a fight for even those who have found victory over him. Cashe’s eyes grow big surprised but lets his tongue roll out over his lips. Calming down instantly because Hartman and him go way back before 4CW. Good dude in Cashe’s book. Hartman moves the microphone over to the “tRoUbLeD1’s” mouth.
CASHE: “Blah.”
A look of flinching confusion forms over Hartman’s face as he pulls the mic back to respond.
HARTMAN: “Blah? What the heck is that? Are you okay?”
Again he tries to pass by Hartman. This time Cashe’s arm is grabbed and the look on his face as he snaps back at Hartman was telling him he was pushing a line. But as the microphone was once again placed in his face. Cashe changed his tune. His anger faded.
CASHE: “Blah Blah.. BLAH!”
HARTMAN: “Don’t Blah me! Talk to me Jason, the people want to know or at least I want to know. The singles loss over in SoCal having any effect at all on you? I mean you got submitted by a female. Not that there is anything wrong with that but for you? It’s very familiar to what happened with.. Que.. Marquis. Are there problems between you two? Will it last? TALK TO ME!!”
Eyebrows raised. Cashe almost broke into a full smile but only half his mouth makes the grin. Motioning in a hurry wave in with his hand, Cashe signals for the mic again. Hartman is quick to react as Cashe sighs into the mic.
CASHE: “Blah bLAh BLAH!”
Reaching up, Cashe snatches the microphone from Hartman. His voice changing, growing scratchy with annoyance and rage. The “Cashe” being exposed if you will.
CASHE: “bLAH blah blaH BLACK SHEEP! BlaH bLaH bLah BLah blAH!”
Putting emphasis on weird parts of the same word. Throwing in an awkward nursery rhyme in there as well. Cashe dropped the little playful parts of the word and just repeated it. Slowly Gabriel Hartman stepped away from Cashe. Distance from a man who has made the word Blah as demented as one can. There was a fear in Hartman’s eyes as his hands held out in front of him.
CASHE: “Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah!! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah.. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah.. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah!! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah.. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah!! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah BlahBlah Blah Blah Blah BlahBlah Blah Blah Blah BlahBlah Blah Blah Blah Blah.. BLAH!”
His breathing almost gasping as his chest rises and falls to catch his breath. Having picked up a fast pace it got to be a traveling echo in the back hallway. People had stepped out from nearby rooms and turned to face him. His eyes remained on Hartman though as he brings the mic up for another round.
CASHE: “Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah!! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah.. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah.. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah!! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah.. Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah!! Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah BlahBlah Blah Blah Blah BlahBlah Blah Blah Blah BlahBlah Blah Blah Blah Blah!!”
Taking a step in Hartman’s direction. The Interviewer’s jaw dropped and eyes went wide not knowing what to expect.
CASHE: “Blah.. Blah….Find a translator..”
Shoving the microphone into Hartman’s chest, Cashe doesn’t wait for him to grab it. It falls to the ground at Hartman’s feet. Turning around Cashe just walks down the hall and disappears around a corner. Casual as ever like nothing had gotten weird. The camera takes one last look of Gabriel Hartman who is almost to tears.


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

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

As the lyrics of the song continue to play, she drops her arms and walks down the ramp, a smirk on her face as she sneers at the crowd as she passes before sliding under the bottom rope of the ring. She stands up and throws off the hood of her jacket, glaring at the crowd with a smirk on her face.
VASSA: ”Well here she is, Niobe Martin!!”
JOHNSON: ”Yeah, and according to Viduus Morta she has infectious diseases, let’s hope that’s not the case??”
Viddus Morta’s music hits and the arena goes completely black. AS the lyrics begin four different fire explosions keep firing in the air on each side. Viduus walks out slowly on pace with the music holding insert here down at waist level. The music picks up pace and Viduus echoes his signature laugh almost matching the song that is playing while throwing his hands in the air. Viduus makes his way to the ring almost floating in the way he walks and moves his shoulders in stride.
POWERS: ”Her opponent, from Parts Unknown, weighing 195 pounds, VIDDDDUUUUUSSSS MOOOOOOOORRRTTTTTTA!!”
Viduus slides into the ring and crawls to the middle of the ring the insert here slithering across the ring with him. Viduus rises and awaits his opponent in the center of the ring.

As the match starts, Niobe runs forward and ducks a clothesline from Viduus. She spins around and as he turns to face her, Niobe delivers a forearm to his face, causing Viduus to stumble back a step. Niobe hits a second elbow causing Viduus to stumble a bit more. She then springs off the ropes and runs forward, but as she reaches Viduus, he drives an elbow into the top of her head, causing her to buckle forward. Viduus, grabs her wrist and Irish whips her against the ropes. Upon her return Viduus leans forward and sends her into the air, dropping to the canvas with a back body drop. Viduus quickly reaches down and grabs Niobe by the forearm, pulling her back to her feet. Giving her a kick to the gut, Viduus puts her between his legs and lifts her over his head, sending her to the ring mat with a powerbomb.
JOHNSON: “I really don’t think it was all that wise for Niobe to exchange blows with Viduus at the opening bell!”
VASSA: “Well, thanks for your words of wisdom Captain Obvious!!”
Viduus Morta reaches down and grabs Niobe by the hair lifting her to standing position. He fires a knee into her ribs and then pushes her into the corner. Viduus hits a shoulder block before taking a couple steps back and rushing forward. Viduus attempts a body splash, but Niobe moves out of the way at the last second causing him to collide his stomach into the turnbuckle. Niobe Martin waits for Viduus to turn around and then gives him a kick to his stomach. She reaches out and pulls him forward locking him in a belly to belly suplex, but as she goes to lift him, Viduus drives another elbow into her cranium and then rushes forward leveling her with a clothesline.
VASSA: “So far Niobe is having a hard time bringing the offense!”
JOHNSON: “She seems to be pysched out by Viduus’s presence tonight??”
Viduus reaches down and grabs Niobe by her hair, pulling her to her feet. He taunts her for a moment before swinging a left hand. Niobe scouts it and ducks under it. She locks Vidus up in a T Bone and suplexes him back into the corner, causing him to hit the turnbuckles. With Viduus down Niobe hops into the air and drives a double foot stomp into his stomach causing him to roll onto his back pain. Niobe reaches down and grips Viduus’s head beginning to face wash him into the canvas. She backs up a bit and as he pulls himself to all fours she runs forward and hits a punt kick, causing him to land onto the mat. Quickly she goes for a pinfall.

Niobe climbs to her feet and pulls Viduus to standing position by his wrist. She locks him up in a ddt and lifts him into the air, but Viduus floats over her and spins around facing her back and locking her in a sleeper-hold. Niobe reaches out to grab the ropes as Viduus locks the hold in tighter. Dropping to one knee, Niobe desperately extends her arm. Viduus starts to tug on her, pulling her back a bit. With no hope in grabbing the ropes, Niobe pulls herself to standing position and reaches back grabbing at Viduus and clawing him in the eye. Viduus breaks the hold as the official gives Niobe a warning.
JOHNSON: “Niobe Martin breaking the rules here!!”
VASSA: “I love it when Niobe breaks the rules. It’s sexy as hell!!”
Niobe runs forward, but Viduus spins around her and grips her waist, lifting into the air and sending her back with a german suplex. Viduus tries to bridge for the pin, but can’t quite keep his hands locked around Niobe’s waist, causing her to roll away. Viduus climbs to his feet and stalks behind her for a moment as she climbs to her feet. As she stands, Viduus reaches out and pulls her backward, connecting a backstabber. As she rolls onto the canvas he hooks the leg for a pinfall.

Niobe kicks out and Viduus climbs to his feet a bit angered. As he stands he reaches down and pulls Niobe up by the hair, but as she comes to her feet, she kicks him in the stomach. She locks his head under her arm and jumps into the air, spinning and connecting a tornado ddt. Viduus rolls onto his back as Niobe climbs up slowly taking a bit of recovery time. She reaches down and pulls him up by his locks, gripping his wrist and sending him into the ropes. As he comes forward she tries a clothesline which Viduus ducks. Niobe charges toward the ropes and bounces back at this point as Viduus spins around. She jumps into the air for a cross body block, but out of nowhere Viduus catches her and lifts her into the air, locking her neck between his arms and dropping her back with his Inverted brainbuster ‘The Awakening’. Wasting no time he hooks the leg for a pin.

JOHNSON: “That was a smooth counter into The Awakening by Viduus Morta helping him claim his first victory here in 4CW!!”
VASSA: “This is a damn outrage. I can’t believe that freak won!!”
POWERS: “Here is your winner, VIDUUS MMOORRTTAA!!!”

The room is a blinding white and resonates with the echo of a live crowd buzzing with anticipation nearby. Its occupant, a lone Cliff White is preparing for his match later. Just how plausible it is that wrestlers would have individual changing rooms in the Boston Garden – or any sports arena, for that matter – is anybody’s guess. In any case, Cliff has been afforded that luxury, perhaps to make a point. Or perhaps he has already been ostracized by his colleagues for his unkind and inimical words prior to his debut last week. His pride would have taken a dent following the subsequent loss, but his determination would still be as fierce as ever. Possibly even more so now.
Here, he was in full on rehearsal mode, puffing out heavily following a squat (#85) with his arms crossed firmly across his naked chest. He’s in his ring gear already. As a matter of fact, his preparation begins at least 24 hours before a match. Plenty of rest, hearty breakfast, solid run, medium work out, carb loading meal and a light aerobic session before he’s even arrived at the arena. The final and key moments before the bout are about mentally preparing and psyching himself into the correct mindframe, preferably without distractions. Cliff isn’t that lucky on this occasion as his focus is snapped by the explosive arrival of the industrious Gabriel Hartman, microphone in hand and eager to get the scoop from the newcomer.
A peeved Cliff completes his squat (#94) and readjusts his stance before shooting a flippant glare at Hartman.

WHITE: “No, please, come in. Put your feet up. Get you a drink?”
Hartman is unperturbed by Cliff’s sarcasm and hurriedly shoves the mic so close to his face that he is almost tickling him. Cliff returns a puzzled look back at him and shrugs in a bewildered gesture. It is then that Hartman remembers the key aspect that he missed: a question. He withdraws the mic back to his own lips and ponders for a second.
HARTMAN: : “Cliff White, welcome to 4CW! How determined are you to improve on your debut last week, a disappointing loss to Niobe Martin?”
Cliff swallows. It always pains to be reminded of failure. But he isn’t one to deny circumstance and so, licking his lips, he prepares to give a classic backstage interview.
WHITE: “Hartman, I’ve only been a part of 4CW for a short time but I’m more than willing to buck the trend and give credit where credit is due. Niobe Martin beat me and I have no excuses. People are saying that it’s down to Ring Rust, that I wasn’t fully fit and ready, that I need more time to get back to my best – but that’s not the case. Niobe was simply better than me, she was sharper, smarter and wanted it more than I did. They are the things that I have to put right. One day, I will get the opportunity to rectify my loss and take on Niobe again and prove to myself that I can beat her.”
He keeps his voice calm and precise. His gaze fixes on the camera and his words pierce through.
WHITE: “As far as tonight goes, the challenge doesn’t get much bigger. A newly crowned Champion, one on one. How often do you see new champions lose their very next match? Very rare, even if the title isn’t on the line. Perhaps it’ll be my lucky day and with the pressure off him he’ll rest on his laurels and give me an easy ride. Perhaps he has been too busy celebrating himself to be ready for the match. Do I think that either of these things will be the case? Absolutely not. And you know what, I’m glad. I don’t want anybody to roll over and lay down. I don’t want anybody to hand me my victory. I don’t do cheap wins. I want Eddie Valentine on top of his game, to give me everything that he’s got. I want him to test me. I want him to allow me to prove to myself that I have got what it takes. That I’m not finished in this business. I want him to allow me to show that, on my day, I can beat a Champion. That I can be a Champion.”
HARTMAN: : “You come here as a veteran of this sport. How do you see your future here in 4CW? Are your ambitions the Fate Championship?”
Cliff smirks, accentuating the crow’s feet that web from his piercing blue eyes. He strokes his goatee with contemplation. He continues, still keep his voice and tone measured.
WHITE: “You know, I believe a lot in fate and it was fate that brought me to where I am today, so it would only be fitting that I were to pursue the Fate Championship and lift that gold. Some people might say that it’s just a platform to bigger and better things but, do you know what, any title I have ever held I have held it in high regard, with a personal prestige and have defended and fought for it like it was the top title. It doesn’t have to be the big one, because the measure of the man is not in simply what he accomplishes, but how he carries that accomplishment. My ambition, should I happen to one day win the title is to elevate its stature and make it one of the most important and coveted titles in professional wrestling.”
HARTMAN: : “You’ve made mention of some aspects of your life before arriving in 4CW and it sounds like you’ve had a tough time.”
WHITE: “I don’t want people to misinterpret me. I’ve not had the hardest life ever. I’m not selling some sob story or telling how I’ve gone on from rags to riches. In fact, I had a fairly normal, maybe even happy, upbringing. But when you go from auspicious beginnings to rock bottom, it can hit you just as hard as someone who started in the cess pit. I lost my family, I lost friends, I very nearly lost my career. Hell, I almost lost my life once or twice. I turned to alcohol, I found myself homeless. When I started to attempt to rebuild, I was dealt another shit hand and lost the foundations of my reprisal. I lost the woman that I loved because she decided to run away to chase ghosts…”
A brief reprieve in Cliff’s diatribe allowed Hartman to wade in with a quick query that may have been on a few people’s minds.
HARTMAN: : “Who is the mysterious Cordelia that has been alluded to?”
Cliff’s gaze was fixed on Hartman for a lingering moment. A tension began to increase and a level of awkwardness crept into their exchange. Just as Hartman looked ready to retract his question, Cliff took a breath out through his nose and pulled a wry smile.
WHITE: “You know what, the past no longer matters, because it is the future that I have promised myself to concentrate on for the first time in my life. Hartman, let me tell you, let me tell all of you. I am not here to pass the torch. I am not here to help develop the rising stars or lend an air of experience to 4CW. I am here for me, and me only, because it is my future that matters most. Eddie Valentine, you will hold onto your title tonight, regardless. But you had better hope you walk out of the ring with your head still held high and with some pride intact…”
Cliff opened up his body and aimed his focus skyward…
WHITE: “Because here…in Boston Garden…”
Cheap pop, if there ever was one…
WHITE: “The home of the Celtics…well, Celtic is in my blood. My Welsh Blood. And if I have to spill it to beat you, then so be it.”
Hartman backs away, wisely sensing the intensity building in Cliff’s manner. His voice was still calm, but had gradually built to a more fierce tone.


JOHNSON: “Well it’s time for another match!”
VASSA: “Yeah, get ready for a real barnburner here folks. I mean that in the nicest way possible.”
JOHNSON: “I know these two might have the most stellar record here, but they’re not terrible talent by any means. In fact these two are quite promising.”
VASSA: “If Mariano Fernandez is so promising, how come he can’t seem to get a win lately?”
JOHNSON: “I don’t have the answers for that, but tonight is a great chance for him to prove himself. He is the first member of Generation Now to fight tonight, let’s hope he can set the stage for his other stablemates.”
VASSA: “Nah, fuck him. I’m going with Alexis on this one. Might not have won last time, but she’s a cutie. I think she’ll blow right past the quote unquote Dragonborn.”
A low tone beat mixed with an electric guitar sounds through the arena for a few seconds before going full force over the sound system. Cameras get a close up of the big screen as the Anti-Starlet logo is presented in until transitions into a video of the music video and clips of Alexis Morrison. This plays for a few minutes before entering fading back to an foggy entrance way. Out of the smoke, “The Anti-Starlet” Alexis Morrison walks onto the stage wearing a leather jacket, her blonde hair falls behind the woman, and she walks down.
POWERS: “From Salem, New York, weighing in at one hundred and twenty-five pounds… She is the Anti-Starlet, ALEXIS MMOORRRRIISSOONN!!!”
She stops, looks at the ring for a moment, circles it halfway before pulling herself onto the apron, giving a menacing stare back toward the crowd. Alexis climbs into ring with attitude, going straight to her respected corner taking off her leather jacket. The Anti-Starlet turns, she starts preparing herself while testing the ropes and carefully watching her surroundings.
JOHNSON: “Alexis coming to the ring first, she’s already getting herself a nice following here.”
VASSA: “What isn’t to like about her? Strong woman, always ready to fight. I heard she beat Bryan Williams once, sent him packing from England!”
JOHNSON: “I heard that too, she definitely has a solid background heading into this match tonight.”
VASSA: “I think Mariano is going to have a bit of a … problem. Do you get it?”
JOHNSON: “…Yeah Vinny, very funny.”
VASSA: “Cause it’s the thing he says, you know. …You know what, fuck you Steve.”
The arena lights suddenly go down, and a Trollface appears on the big screen.
Then, a sound of drums fills the arena.

POWERS: “And now, standing six feet tall and weighing in at one hundred eighty pounds pounds! From somewhere in Skyrim… “THE GADFLY”… MARIANO FFEERRNNAANNDDEEZZ!!!”
The sound is later accompanied with guttural, barbarian chanting in a strange language, as the Song of the Dragonborn from The Elder Scrolls V – Skyrim begins its triumphant rhythm. Growing slowly in intensity matching the song, the arena lights come back…
Once the lights come back on, and after a huge pyro blast, Mariano is standing at the stage entrance, posing to the crowd going wild. He then beings striding decidedly and steadily to the ring. Once he climbs the apron and passes between the ropes, he grabs the microphone from Mike Powers.
JOHNSON: “A nice crowd reaction for Manny! I think they’re going to have a hard time picking here.”
VASSA: “Ew, did you really just call him that?”
JOHNSON: “What do you mean? Everybody calls him that!”
VASSA: “You won’t catch me saying that tonight, bet!”

The bell rings, and we are underway! Mariano Fernandez stays in the corner, looking at Alexis as Morrison tries to meet him in the middle of the ring. She calls out to him, wanting to lock up in the center of the ring. Mariano takes his time, but eventually shoots out towards his opponent! He rushes in, trying to take Alexis down quickly. Alexis ducks out of the way, sending Mariano running to the ropes. Mariano tries to rebound with a clothesline, but Alexis ducks under and runs towards the ropes herself. She catches Manny on the rebound, taking him down with a Titl-a-Whirl Headscissors Takedown!
Mariano lands hard but pops back up to his feet, Alexis again charges at her opponent. Mariano sidesteps her, sending Alexis back towards the ropes. Alexis rebounds, and tries to knock Mariano down with a shoulderblock! Manny looks confused for a moment, Alexis shrugging as she catches him with a right hand! Mariano eats the shot, and sends Alexis back towards the ropes. She rebounds, and he clobbers her with a shoulderblock of his own! Alexis falls to the mat, annoyed that she was taken down so easily. Manny shrugs, as Morrison hops back up to her feet. She charges towards Mariano, but he catches her with a Rolling Koppu Kick!

JOHNSON: “Alexis tried to knock Mariano down, and she paid the price with that devastating kick!”
VASSA: “She seems thick skulled, I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”
The shot echos throughout the arena, Alexis reels back and attempts to walk away from Mariano Fernandez. Mariano grabs her by the hair, spinning her around and delivering a thick chop to her chest! The shot lands hard, almost taking the breath away from Alexis Morrison. Mariano Fernandez knocks Alexis loopy with a European Uppercut. Before she can stumble back he catches her, driving her headfirst into the mat with a brutal DDT! Mariano quickly covers her for the first pinfall of the night!

JOHNSON: “Quick cover, but Alexis has plenty of fight left in her tonight.”
VASSA: “Enjoy the success while you can, Mariano! Alexis is going to be kicking your teeth in soon enough!”
JOHNSON: “Easy there, buddy.”
VASSA: “Too much?”
Much to Mariano’s surprise, Alexis easily kicks out. She looks a bit ticked off, a fire in her eyes as she wants to get back into this match. They both scramble to their feet, and Alexis catches Mariano with a kick to the left thigh of Mariano Fernandez. He stumbles back, allowing Alexis to catch him with a big running Spinning Heel Kick! Her foot catches Manny on the side of his head, stumbling him backwards. Mariano shakes the cobwebs out, but Alexis chases after him and catches him as he gets situated. Mariano is driven backwards into the mat, Alexis catching him with a snap neckbreaker! Alexis quickly covers Mariano, trying to eliminate him early!

A quick kickout from Mariano Fernandez, he rolls to the outside to catch his bearings. Unfortunately for him, Alexis Morrison is on the attack. She grabs the top rope, slingshotting herself up and over to the outside onto Mariano Fernandez below! Mariano doesn’t see it in time, he catches the full force of Alexis’s weight and lands hard on the ground! The crowd seems to be into the match, cheering Alexis on as she fires herself back up.
JOHNSON: “Alexis quickly taking control of this match! Mariano is in a bad place right now!”
VASSA: “What did I tell ya? This chick is unstoppable, just you watch!”
Mariano tries getting back up to his feet, and immediately he begins to look loopy. Alexis sees this, and smirks, as she begins to capitalize on her offense. She mounts Mariano, pummeling him with punches that rain from every angle. Mariano tries his best to cover up, but he still can’t shake the cobwebs from his mind. He tries to buck Alexis off of him, finally getting her to fall down. Mariano tries getting to a knee, but Alexis is already striking first. She sends a knee into the side of his head, knocking him down for the moment! Logan Whitby, the referee for the match, tries to get both competitors back in the ring. Alexis complies, rolling into the ring as he starts his count, but quickly rolls back out again.
Logan Whitby yells at the two to get back into the ring, threatening to start his ten count. Mariano attempts to crawl back into the ring, but surprisingly Alexis is right there. She grabs his ring gear, picking him up and attempting to throw him into the ring barricade. Mariano spins at the last second, sending Alexis crashing hard into the barricade! Mariano attempts to follow up, but Alexis ducks out of the way at the last second, Mariano Fernandez crashes hard head first into the barricade!

JOHNSON: “Manny hits hard! Alexis has been all over him since the beginning of this match, this could be getting very ugly soon enough.”
VASSA: “I hate that name.”
JOHNSON: “Alexis?”
VASSA: “No, Manny!”
JOHNSON: “Ha! Got you to say it!”
VASSA: “Oh come on, that doesn’t even count!”
Realizing the extent of her damage done, Alexis rolls into the ring. She watches as Logan Whitby begins to his count, but Alexis quickly rolls back out. She doesn’t want an easy victory, but getting Mariano back into the ring is anything but easy. She struggles, but eventually the two are back inside of the ring. Mariano tries to get himself back up, before Alexis can attack him again. Unfortunately Alexis is waiting, catching Manny with another knee to his head! Not wanting to waste any time, Alexis scurries towards the nearby turnbuckle. A quick bounce off of the second buckle, and she moonsaults onto Mariano Fernandez! Alexis quickly scurries over to her downed opponent, covering him for the pinfall!

Mariano Fernandez is not quite out of it yet, he still looks very dazed as Alexis creates some space between them. She steps backwards, waiting for Mariano to get back to his feet. Mariano finally stirs, getting to one knee as Alexis charges at him. He looks up, and eats a big Running Bicycle Kick from Alexis Morrison! Mariano falls to the mat, the 20 Eyes having connected flush! Mariano slumps backwards, as Alexis rushes in to cover her opponent!

JOHNSON: “Mariano just will not quit!”
VASSA: “I wish he would, when is that wall going up damnit?!”
The crowd groans, having thought that Alexis had taken this match already. Alexis, having thought so as well, is disappointed to see that her opponent was able to kick out. She slaps the mat, but stays focused. Mariano is still having trouble getting up, so Alexis takes her time. She looks at the nearby corner, and quickly heads that way. Mariano finally gets to one knee, as Alexis slips through the ropes. She scurries up to the top, posting herself on the top turnbuckle as she waits.
Mariano is taking his time, trying his best to clear his head. He gets up to his feet, but appears to be on wobbly legs as he does. Mariano straightens himself upright, only to see his opponent ready to strike!

JOHNSON: “This could be it!”
VASSA: “Oh no, Alexis watch yourself!”
Alexis leaps from the top rope, a Diving Hurricanrana on her mind! Unfortunately for her, Mariano catches her at the last moment! Alexis looks for a way out, but Mariano tosses her forward into the turnbuckle. She crashes hard, the Buckle Bomb sending her crashing to the mat! Both competitors lay in a heap, as Logan Whitby tries to get control of the match!
JOHNSON: “Mariano still has some fight left in him! He tosses Alexis into the corner, and buy himself a crucial break!”
VASSA: “Come on Alexis, you gotta get back up!”
JOHNSON: “First one to their feet gets this match under control, that can be a bad thing for Alexis Morrison!”
VASSA: “Yeah, well she better get her ass back up!”
He doesn’t get to start his count though, as Alexis is up to her knee first. Mariano soon follows, still feeling the effects from the match. Alexis is trying to end this match quickly though, as she quickly wraps Mariano up in the Bloody Tears!
The Wrist-Lock and Neckscissors combo seems to do the trick, trapping Mariano in place as he looks to break free. Alexis quickly wrenches back, hoping to get a quick tap out! Mariano hadn’t taken much damage to his arms though, because he doesn’t appear to be giving in quite yet. He struggles to a knee, as Alexis tries to lock the hold in tighter.
Mariano is able to almost fully stand up, much to the dismay of Alexis Morrison! She lets go of the hold, hopping down to her feet. Unfortunately it was a ploy by Mariano, he catches her with The Gadfly!

JOHNSON: “Step Up Enziguri connects! Morrison is on dream street right now!”
VASSA: “Son of a bitch, Alexis snap out of it!”
Alexis falls to a knee, as Mariano quickly grabs ahold of her. He wastes no time in lifting her up, and drilling her headfirst into the mat with a Dovahkiin Driver! The crowd is in shock as Mariano quickly covers her for the pin!

JOHNSON: “Wow! What a turnaround by Mariano Fernandez! That suplex piledriver just sent it home for him! An incredible comeback, and win for this young man here tonight!”
VASSA: “Son of a bitch, I can’t believe he did it!”
JOHNSON: “Just goes to show you that he’s still got some fight left in him, Manny is not done yet folks!”
Mariano holds his head, as Logan Whitby raises his free arm in victory. Alexis sits on the mat, looking a bit disappointed at the outcome. Alexis had been caught, but kicked out just after the three count. With the “Song of the Dragonborn” playing in the background, the two quickly exchange a look. She nods her head towards him, as Manny helps her up to her feet. It’s a scene of good sportsmanship, as Alexis raises his hand.
JOHNSON: “A nice showing of sportsmanship here tonight, great performance by these two. We’ll definitely have to see them step into the ring again.”
VASSA: “I agree, and when they do Alexis will know what she needs to do to put him away for good.”
JOHNSON: “Come on, say Manny one more time.”
VASSA: “I will do no such thing, good sir!”
Mariano celebrates his win, as Alexis heads to the back looking defeated. Manny stays in the ring, soaking in his important victory here tonight. The crowd seems to be cheering for them both, a nice display shown here tonight in the ring.

HARTMAN: “Okay he’s had a little while to calm down. We’re going to try and get a word from Jason Cashe… Come on!”
The 4CW Lead Interviewer seemed so confident that it would go better. Maybe it was just hope he was feeling. So many have that blindly. Approaching the locker room door, it was cracked open. Hartman doing a quick knock and enter sees Cashe sitting with his back to the far corner of the room. He was Indian style on the floor and was wearing the mask he had taken off of Raab earlier in the night. The same mask he wore when he seen Hartman after the match.
HARTMAN: “Heeeey Buddy!”
The face under the green and black mask lifts his head up to see it was Hartman. Cashe sighs and drops his attention back to a pad of paper sitting on his lap. It seemed Cashe was writing something down. Hartman takes a few steps closer not wanting to proceed too much, too quick.
HARTMAN: “What’cha writing there? You got a minute to talk now?”
Not wanting to pour on too much but still wanting to get into a conversation. Hartman didn’t leave a second for dead air as he took a step closer and added something more than just another question.
HARTMAN: “I’m sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have bothered you right after your match. What a match though! I’ll tell you it’s great to see someone compete close with everyone of every style and make it exciting. You do that among the best on the roster… Jason?”
Now close enough to reach down and touch Cashe on the shoulder. Gabriel Hartman does just that. Like his patience to keep talking, it took all but a split second and Cashe erupted. Popping up from the corner as Hartman falls back throwing up a flinching arm to block attacks that just never came. Embarrassing moment but Cashe didn’t give it no nevermind. Marching over to where him and Queef had their luggage. He pulls up his dPEEg/SoCal Tag Team Championship. Slapping it over his shoulder, Cashe turns and gives Hartman a stare. Through the holes of the mask his eyes just long coldly stare at Hartman. Slow to his rise, Hartman stares back.
CASHE: “Bla-Blah Aahh Ahh Aaah…”
Head forward, Cashe leaves his own locker room to get away from Hartman. Still not saying much at all about anything. As Hartman gets to his feet and brushes himself off he leans towards the camera to whisper to the man holding it.
HARTMAN: “Was that Lady Gaga? The song? La La Ah Ah Ahhh.. He just said it wrong.. Hmm..”
Ready to leave, Hartman accidentally kicks the pad of paper Cashe had been writing on. He bends over to pick it up as the cameraman starts to cut the scene but Hartman stops him with a palming hand to the camera itself.
HARTMAN: “Wait! I need to read this.. It’s.. a letter to 4CW..”
Preparing in a rush to look as clean and professional as one man can after falling and flopping like some scared bitch. Gabriel Hartman let his eyes ride along every sentence jotted on the paper. Shaking his head as he read some of it. Excited to have the chance to reveal some of Cashe’s deepest thoughts. Maybe his goals, his PLANS! Things that he didn’t seem to share with too many people. Maybe not even Queef.
HARTMAN: “Dear 4CWers…”
From over Hartman’s shoulder comes Jason Cashe’s hand as he reaches in and snatches the pad of paper. Hartman startled turns to Cashe just slowly shaking his head no.
CASHE: “Blah..”
Annnnd again Cashe was gone. Gabriel Hartman left standing there knowing that if he said anything now, it might be his last thing spoken tonight. He was better off letting it go for now.

”Lapdance” by N.E.R.D. hits and bumps hard throughout the arena. Some of the diehard fans come up breathlessly as crimson red laser lights fire up, darting through the crowd as the light go down. Marijuana leaves display in crimson and one appears rotating in the center of the ring.
“Dirty dog
I’m, I’m a dirty dog
I’m a dirty dog
I’m, I’m a dirty dog
Dirty dog”

The music continues to blare as “The Dirty Dog” Shane Clemmens bursts through the entrance to the arena. The fans cheer as he makes his way down the entrance ramp, heading straight for the ring. It’s just like old times. He’s rocking the sunglasses, the red leather jacket, and those red Chucks he’s known for.
“It’s a raw night (It’s a raw night)
Who wants to bar fight? (Who wants to bar fight?)
Well come on alright (Y’all come on)”

Shane makes his way up the ring steps and once he hits the ropes, he’s in through them quick. The music begins to die down as the lights come up. Shane makes his way to the center of the ring and a ring hand tosses him a mic. As the lights come back up completely, Shane takes his rose colored sunglasses off and folds ‘em up and pops ‘em onto the collar of his t-shirt.
S. CLEMMENS: “Four Corners Wrestling. It’s been a minute or two, hasn’t it? Feels good to be back in a wrestling right, to be honest. I think I might have things left to do on canvas just like this, but we’re going to get to that. Right now, I’m here to talk about what’s going down later tonight. My nephew, Dare, is going to step into the ring with Jett Wilder. I know the fans are probably getting tired of this pairing, but it’s what you get to see. The intention of this match will be to end the struggle that Tony Chu started. As you may know, Tony has been barred from the match tonight and I’ll be honest–I think he should be barred permanently. I know a lot of you appreciate what he brings to the table, but the fact remains that he’s one hundred percent Fuck-Face.”
The fans cheer and Shane can’t help but smirk.
S. CLEMMENS: “Almost forgot I could cuss on this shit. It’s great. Four Corners Wrestling is great. Let’s hear it, Boston!”
He goes for that cheap pop and gets it.
S. CLEMMENS: “So Dare’s going to take on Jett Wilder and let’s just put it this way–I don’t think it’s going to be as memorable as Shane Clemmens versus Jason Cashe. Right? Maybe in its own way, it’ll mimic it. If Dare really gives it his all, he’ll walk out of that struggle 2-0, just like I did against Cashe. Got’em! I think that’s what the kids say, right? Yeah, I think Keith Daniels showed me this video of this dude with fucked up teeth saying it. Now, I have one quick question about the name change. Is it pronounced Cashay? Or Cashe like the dollar bill? Or maybe even Cashe, like Cashew without the W? I’m asking for a fucken friend, alright? My shit’s still spelled C-L-E-M-M-E-N-S and that won’t ever change. Just like I’ll never grow a ginger beard or sip ass out of a straw. That’s not my style. Honestly though, I should lay the fuck off of Cashe like Marquis does when it’s time to clean up. Hey, at least he knows what it takes to get him off nowadays. Haha. It’s all in good fun, Jason. At the very least, you don’t boast that thin bitch skin like Bradley Jackson and Spiral, right?”
Shane walks over to the corner and leaps up onto the top turnbuckle pad and has a seat.
S. CLEMMENS: “Dare and I aren’t the only members of the Clemmens family who wrestle. You know that, right? Yeah. I think I might just call for ‘em right fucken now. We should have some dorky assed call to arms, like, “Clemmens Team Assemble–Form of…” nah, that’s faggoty as fuck. We aren’t nerds, we’re terminators. Come on out.”
”Raw Material” by Deap Vally hits as the “Caustic Siren” herself, Shyla Clemmens steps out onto the entrance stage. Right behind her is Dare Clemmens. Pyros fire as the two head down the entrance ramp. The fans are going nuts as the former Fight One Champion is showing her face at a Four Corners Wrestling event.
S. CLEMMENS: “I swear these are the only two. Right? Only two we need. Introducing, my neice and nephew–Shyla and Dare Clemmens. Get on in here.”
Shyla and Dare enter the ring. Shane hands over the mic to Shyla.
S. CLEMMENS: ”Sup, fuckers?”
That’s all it takes for the fans to cheer. Shyla soaks it in for a moment before returning the mic to her lips.
S. CLEMMENS: ”Let’s not jump right to the heavy petting, though, ok? Still have some shit to do, but I thought I’d join my dipshit cousin tonight–root him on and see if you remember me. You do, remember me, right sugar tits?”
The fans maintain a roar.
S. CLEMMENS: ”Aww, making me feel all special and shit. Well, if you know me, you know that I don’t like these mics very much. I like letting my fists do the talking and you boys out there in the crowd, you can take that in a sexual way, if it gets you off. I don’t give a fuck. Muah.”
Shyla tosses the mic to Dare and he fumbles with it as he tries to catch it. Finally he gets control of it.
D. CLEMMENS: ”This is awesome.”
Shane steps up to the mic and speaks into it.
S. CLEMMENS: “All or Nothing is just the beginning. Besides, after everything I’ve done, I’m still not in a Hall of Fame? What the fuck is that shit? Not that it really matters, but if that many-faced bastard, Drew Stevenson, gets to be in a Hall of Fame, well, I should get that shit too. It’s only fucken fair, am I right? Dickholes. Now, we’re about to fuck off, but don’t forget, things are just about to get interesting. We’re not Royal, we’re not New, but we are No Cash Value. Because talent is still, fucken Priceless.
”Lapdance” by N.E.R.D. hits as the cameras cut.

As we cut from ringside to the backstage area of the TD Gardens Arena we see Gabriel Hartman standing by with a special guest.
HARTMAN: “Ladies and gentlemen, my guest at this time, Scott Stevens.”
Stevens enter the frame after Hartman’s introduction.
HARTMAN: “Scott, tonight you are involved in what has to be the biggest match of your career so far in 4CW as you take on Eli Carlson for the World championship in a Caged Ladder Match. What are you thought on your upcoming Main Event match later this evening?”
Hartman asks Stevens, but the Texan breathes in deeply before exhaling loudly.
STEVENS: “Can you feel it Boston?”
The crowd in the TD Gardens Arena busts out into cheers which brings a smile to Scott’s face.
STEVENS: “You feel it Hartman?”
Stevens asks Hartman who seems to be confused by the question.
HARTMAN: “I guess…..”
STEVENS: “You guess? You guess?!?!?!?”
Stevens asks before shaking his head in disappointment.
STEVENS: “You better feel it because tonight is a very big night. Yes it is a huge opportunity for me to be competing against Eli Carlson with the world title on the line, but people already know this isn’t my first rodeo when it comes to this.”
Stevens boasts proudly.
HARTMAN: “That is true because you have had big matches and won championship all over the world, but you are here in 4CW taking on the top champion in the company who has said he isn’t going to break a sweat in this match, what is your response?”
Stevens slides his tongue over the front of his teeth before slowly grabbing the microphone as his happy go lucky demeanor changes.
STEVENS: “What can I say other than Eli has lived up to everything he has said since his ascension to the top of the mountain until recently.”
Stevens says as he motions for the camera to zoom in.
STEVENS: “It’s funny that someone who isn’t going to break a sweat later tonight you sure have been getting your ass handed to you lately. Eli, I know you’re in this arena listening and I want you to listen very carefully because tonight I take your world title from you and there is nothing you can do about it.”
The crowd in the arena roars at the thought of Stevens capturing the 4CW world championship.
STEVENS: “Ever since I turned my attention to you I have beaten and bloodied you every chance I had, and yet you still think I’m not a threat. You see Eli, there are some guys that are on a wrestling roster that don’t need championships, nicknames, or catchphrases to be relevant, and I’m one of those guys. When I came into 4CW to compete full time everyone knew of my past and baggage that came with me, but the most important thing they knew about me that you continue to fail at realizing is that I can beat anyone.”
Stevens says bluntly as he takes the microphone from Hartman and shoves him out of the way.
STEVENS: “Continue to be nonchalant and act like this is a cake walk because I can promise you I’m going to hurt you. I’m not just going to hurt you physically, but I’m going to break you mentally as well as you lay in a bloody heap in the corner watching as I climb up the ladder and take the 4CW world championship from you.”
Stevens says as he points towards the camera.
STEVENS: “The same championship that has made you relevant in 4CW, and changed your status from above average to pretty good. Tonight, you have to backup all that bravado you have been flaunting and all that venom you have been spewing because this isn’t my biggest match in 4CW it’s yours.”
Stevens says with a nod as he points to the camera once again.
STEVENS: “All the pressure is on you champ because if you win you prove to everyone what you’ve been boasting about, but what happens when you lose?”
HARTMAN: “When?”
Hartman asks from the side of the frame and Stevens grins.
STEVENS: “That’s right because if you lose how are you going to explain losing to the laughing stock of 4CW? How are you going to explain losing to the Lonesome Loser? How are you going to look at yourself in the mirror and explain how you lost to Scott Stevens? The answer is simple, you can’t. You backed yourself into this corner on your own and all I have to do to send you off into the deep end is take that championship and I will. Your time as world champion is slowly ticking away because at the end of the night I’ll be the one walking away with the world title and you’ll be in the locker room realizing you’re the weakest link of the Royal Family.”
Stevens says as he exits the frame.


POWERS: “The following contest is scheduled for one fall!”
The opening bars to Revocation’s cover of ‘Surprise, you’re dead!’ bring the 4CW audience to an unintelligible roar as the house lights go dim and the ramp flickers a fluorescent green in tune to the music. A searchlight of the same color scans around through the crowd, and they suddenly Wulf Erikson makes his way among them, through the very aisles they sit in, clutching his favorite steel chair.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring first, from Roswell, New Mexico! Weighing in at one hundred eighty-five pounds and standing six feet, one inch tall! He is ‘The Silver Bullet’, WULF EERRIIKKSSOONN!!!”
Wulf makes his way through the crowd before leaping over the barricade. Grabbing the top rope, he ‘skins the cat’, launching his way into the ring backward over the top. Wulf runs to the other side and jumps up to the middle of the second rope, raising the chair up high before he quickly grins cockily and jumps back down, throwing his arms wide and asking the fans ‘WHAT?!’ as he awaits his opponent
POWERS: “And the opponent!”
“Loyal” by Chris Brown begins to play over the arena as 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 Upper Eastside Manhattan, weighing in at one hundred twenty-one pounds and the same height as every other bitch in this place, which is five feet and seven inches tall. She is the former Fate Champion, ‘The Queefster’, ‘Marky Mark’, ‘The Ass Eater Extraordinaire’, ‘Mr. Brightside’ herself – PERSEPHONE MMAARRQQUUIISS!!!”
She had been waiting for Powers to finish announcing her, hands on her hips as she stares at him incredulously while still standing on the ramp. She shakes her head and sighs, continuing down the ramp. 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 the referee with a smile and a friendly greeting, before turning to her corner with an eye roll and an almost disgusted expression. She waits in her corner for the match to start, sitting on the turnbuckle with her legs crossed; back to her patronizing smirk.
VASSA: “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
JOHNSON: “Up next we have an open challenge that came to be via social media just days before the last Adrenaline.”
VASSA: “I know how the match came about. I’m just honestly surprised that Wulf Erikson actually decided to show up.”
JOHNSON: “Well he’s here and ready to throw down. These two had quite a few words leading up to this and it all gets settled right here once and for all.”
VASSA: “I don’t know much about this guy, but he seems to know quite a lot about 4CW.”
JOHNSON: “He only knows what he’s been fed by others. There’s no substance to any of the claims he has made.”
VASSA: “Truth be told, Queef is a bitch, but there’s nothing wrong with that.”
JOHNSON: “Nothing wrong at all about it. This is a sport that involves a lot of trash talking amongst opponents. It’s so easy for those who can’t take it these days to cry about being bullied.”
VASSA: “Amen! It’s all good though. After tonight, if anyone gets hurt I’m sure we could round up a magic doctor or two to make the wounds heal instantly.”
JOHNSON: “You’ve always had quite the imagination, Vinny.”
Standing in the center of the ring, the official checks in with both corners before quickly calling for the bell.

As the bell fades, both Wulf and Marquis shoot from their corners and head straight for one another. Locking up in the center of the ring, Marquis quickly maneuvers herself behind him, hooking his arm behind his back. With his other arm, Wulf throws back an elbow, smashing it into Marquis’ face and breaking the hold she has on his arm. As he turns around to face her, Marquis shoots in for his legs but comes up empty handed as Wulf hops backwards. Popping back up to her feet, Marquis’ bell is rung as Wulf steps in and connects with a European uppercut.
Stumbling backwards, Marquis settles her feet just in time to look ahead as Wulf races in and plows her to the canvas with a shoulder block. Spinning her entire body on the canvas, Marquis goes to sweep his legs out from under him but misses as he leaps straight into the air, avoiding her legs. Landing to his feet on the other side of Marquis, Wulf explodes with excitement. Looking up to Wulf from behind, Marquis reaches up and then grabs ahold of the back of his pants. His eyes light up as he fights to keep his balance while Marquis tugs on his pants. Pulling Wulf backwards and down to the mat, Marquis pins his shoulders to the canvas with a roll-up as the official slides in with the count.


With Marquis dropping all of her weight on the back of Wulf’s legs, she then gets thrown into the air as he kicks out from the pin. The two then quickly race to their feet, standing up at the same time. Charging in, Wulf jumps into the air with a backflip, aiming his foot straight for Marquis’ head with a pele kick. His foot zips by her face as she stops in her tracks and leans back, avoiding the taste of leather. Landing on his stomach, Wulf then pushes himself up but as he does, Marquis quickly moves in and levels him with a step up enzuigiri.
JOHNSON: “I like the way this one is looking so far.”
VASSA: “It’s been a fast paced one so far since the sound of the bell.”
JOHNSON: “We’ll see how things go after that enzuigir. That should slow Wulf down down some.”
Pulling Wulf up to his feet, Marquis then pushes him back before stepping in with momentum and kicking him with a stinging right boot across the side of his thigh. She then follows up with a left kick to his ribs, forcing him to buckle over to his side. Pulling her right leg back, Marquis then swiftly kicks him across the shin with a smirk on her face. Wulf howls as the kick lands, slightly lighting his foot up from the mat to take the weight off of the leg.
Marquis then lunges forward to lock up but as she closes in, Wulf ducks underneath and steps in behind her. Swinging her entire body around, Marquis throws an elbow for his head, missing as he ducks yet again. Lifting Marquis into the air, Wulf hits her with a Manhattan drop. The pain shoots up her spine, forcing her body to straighten up as he releases her. Backstepping, Marquis slowly turns a complete circle and as she faces Wulf again, he quickly moves in and lifts her into the air, hitting her with another Manhattan drop. Falling backwards to the mat, Marquis crashes against it.
Turning to the ropes to his right, Wulf takes off for them and as he comes back on the rebound, he leaps into the air, flipping forward and landing across Marquis with a running senton. Fluidly, Wulf rolls up to his feet before getting them settled on the canvas. He then does a backflip, this time coming down on Marquis with a standing moonsault. Hooking her leg, he goes for the pin as the official races over from the other side of the ring.


VASSA: “Tw–“
JOHNSON: “Kickout!”
VASSA: “Nice combination of aerial moves Wulf, but it’s going to take just a tad bit more to seal the deal and put her away for the three count.”
Rising to his feet, Wulf circles the ring, stalking Marquis as he keeps his eyes locked on her. Ignoring the sold out crowd screaming in the background, he then moves in and pulls her up from the mat. Locking onto her wrist, Wulf whips Marquis to the ropes and as she comes back on the return, he leans forward to flip her up and over his back.

Stopping just a couple of feet in front of him, Marquis kicks his leg up from the mat and plants her foot into Wulf’s face, instantly standing him straight up. She then grabs ahold of his head before rocking back and forth with him in her clutches. Swinging completely around, Marquis drops Wulf to his back with a swinging neckbreaker. Popping back to her feet, she quickly locks her sights on his arm stretched out to the side, more so his hand with his fingers extended. With a grin on her face, she then lifts her foot up from the mat before slamming it down and stomping on his fingers.
Pulling Wulf up from the mat, Marquis drags him to the center of the ring before delivering another swift combination of kicks to the legs and body. She then whips Wulf to the furthest corner before taking off behind him. Just as Wulf closes in on the corner, Marquis leaps into the air, aiming her feet forward and going with a running drop kick. Jumping into the air, Wulf plants both feet on the top turnbuckle before pushing off and clearing over Marquis with a backflip. With no one in the corner, Marquis feet crash against the corner before she falls down to her side as Wulf lands perfectly behind her.

JOHNSON: “Wulf was just one step ahead of her right there.”
VASSA: “Sucks for Queef! She landed hard on her shoulder after missing that dropkick.”
JOHNSON: “Wulf is flipping all over the place and it’s paying off for him as you can see.”
VASSA: “I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that he had a trampoline in his backyard while growing up.”
Reaching over Marquis and grabbing the top ropes on each side of the corner, Wulf uses them for leverage as he jumps into the air. Pulling himself up as his as he can go, he then drops down with a knee to Marquis’ shoulder. Pulling her back to her feet, He drags her away from the corner before whipping her to the ropes. Taking off in the opposite direction, he charges the ropes and hits them at the same time Marquis hits the ones ahead of her. The two then bounce off and as they approach each other in the center of the ring, Wulf jumps into the air and wraps his legs around her head. Falling back and spinning his body, he lifts her off her feet before throwing her to the other side of the ring with a head scissors takedown.
Hitting the mat, Marquis rolls up to her feet, grabbing onto the ropes. Behind her, Wulf pops back up and races in behind her. Wrapping her around the waist, he pulls her away from the ropes before lifting her into the air and slamming her to the mat with a German suplex. Rolling over to his side with Marquis still in his arms, he stands back to his feet, pulling her up as well. Lifting her again, he drops her with a second German suplex. Still holding on, Wulf rolls back to his side before standing tall with Marquis in his arms. He then drops her with a third German suplex, this time bridging it for the pin as the official slides in beside them with the count.


JOHNSON: “She kicks out just before the full three count.”
VASSA: “That was a little too close for comfort for Marquis.”
JOHNSON: “She seemed to have taken him lightly before the match but I’m willing to bet he’s surprised her quite a bit here tonight.”
Shocked at the kickout, Wulf stands to his feet. Looking to the official to question the count, he doesn’t say a word as the official slightly shrugs his shoulders. Reaching down and pulling her back to her feet, Wulf hits her with back to back shots to the head. He then latches onto her wrist and whips her to the ropes. Bouncing off and coming back on the rebound, Marquis ducks a clothesline attempt from Wulf as she continues in stride towards the opposite set of ropes. Hitting them hard, she comes back with even more speed as Wulf attempts to behead her with a kick to the dome. Dropping to the canvas, Marquis slides underneath him and between his legs before popping back to her feet. She then jumps into the air and plants both feet into his back, sending him stumbling forward to the ropes with a dropkick.
Quickly, she pushes herself up as Wulf bounces off the ropes and stumbles backwards, Running forward, she locks her arm around the back of his head before driving his face into the canvas with a running bulldog. Wulf’s face instantly bounces off the mat as Marquis rises to her feet. Looking down at Wulf as he begins to push himself up, Marquis then races past him and heads for the ropes. As she bounces off, Wulf pushes himself up to his knees before Marquis levels him with a shining wizard.

VASSA: “There it is, Steve!”
JOHNSON: “Spring Deity!”
Twisting and falling face first to the mat, Wulf refuses to let this be it as he shows signs of life and begins crawling in the opposite direction. Back on her feet, Marquis looks on in disbelief before shaking her head at the sight. Pushing himself up, Wulf begins climbing back to his feet near the ropes. Seeing an opportunity, Marquis then charges in. Leaping into the air and flying right by Wulf as he stands, she plants her feet onto the middle rope before launching off. Spinning around in mid air, Marquis wraps her arm around Wulfs head before dropping him to the canvas with a springboard Tornado DDT.
JOHNSON: “It’s the Petty Cash!”
VASSA: “Ruthless! She isn’t holding anything back at this point.”
JOHNSON: “If the Spring Deity wasn’t enough, Petty Cash just might do the trick.”
VASSA: “Let’s see if she can do it! She’s making the cover…”
Crawling over Wulf’s lifeless body, Marquis makes the pin as the official races over for the count.

VASSA: “There it is! She’s done it!”
JOHNSON: “This wasn’t as easy contest for either but Persephone pulls it off after a hard fought battle.”
“Loyal” hits the speakers as Marquis slowly rises to her feet with a cocky smirk across her face. As she looks down at Wulf, the official steps in beside her and raises her arm into the air.

Pulling her arm away from the official, Marquis then spits on Wulf before turning away and heading for the ropes. Dipping through them and dropping to the outside, she leaves it all behind and moves on to the next challenge ahead as she proceeds up the ramp.
VASSA: “There you have it folks! What started out as banter on social media, ended with one person looking up at the lights from their back.”
JOHNSON: “Regardless of the outcome, I was rather impressed with Wulf’s performance here tonight.”
VASSA: “He showed a lot of potential. Too bad he’s wasting his time in la-la land.”
JOHNSON: “That’s one for 4CW folks. Maybe someone will get this guy a contract and bring him over to the big leagues.”
VASSA: “That wouldn’t be a bad idea if someone did. He’s already faced Marquis so the meanest bitch is already out of the way. He’d earn quite a bit of respect if that were to happen.”
JOHNSON: “There you have it ladies and gentlemen. Persephone Marquis continues tearing through the competition with an impressive win here tonight at All or Nothing.”

Somewhere down in the less traveled places of the TD Garden Center. The lighting is poor at best. The only illumination comes from a few lights down the hallway. A shadowy figure sits down against the wall. The figure starts humming revealing that it is a female. She starts to lightly sing proving that it is, if fact, Sativa Nevaeh.
NEVAEH: “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord.”
She trails off singing and stares vacantly into the darkness. Her hands twist over a length of rope that sits in her lap. Some footsteps can be heard echoing down the hall. They get louder as some of the light is blocked out.
NEVAEH: “Hello, Manny.”
FERNANDEZ: “Hey yo, chica.”
There is an awkward silence between the two. Sativa continues her stare as Manny looks around seemingly trying to decide if he should say something.
NEVAEH: “What do you want Manny?”
FERNANDEZ: “Um, well. We getting a little worried, mang. You’ve been a little more, uh, distant, than usual.”
This actually draws Sativa’s attention. She turns her head to face Manny, her eyes somehwat vacant, not seeming to focus on him.
NEVAEH: “I have to go out there tonight and basically kill the most violent man on the current 4CW roster. I’m having to go to a dark place. Don’t want you all to get caught up in that.”
FERNANDEZ: “Alright, mang. Just know one thing: We care for you – and we don’t want to see you get sucked into this darkness. I know, at least, I for one don’t. Talos guide you.”
Sativa turns her vacant gaze back to the darkness. Manny just nods and then heads back the way he came. Sativa starts to hum again and then whispers.
NEVAEH: “Glory glory Hallelujah”


Sirens wail through the atmosphere before the punk energy of The Clash rips through the soundsystem. Without fuss or hesitation, Cliff emerges from the back ready for business. Striding purposefully to the ring, Cliff doesn’t miss a step as he beats his chest – his right hand thumping his tattooed left breast – before jerking his right hand high into the air with a roar.
POWERS: “From Swansea, United Kingdom… weighing in at two hundred forty pounds, CLIFF WWHHIITTEE!!!”
As Cliff nears the ring, he bursts into a sprint and flings himself underneath he bottom rope, rolling over once before hopping up to his feet and once again raising his right fist up into the air. He takes up a position in the far corner of the ring and hunches over with his palms on his knees, staring intently at the entrance and urging his opponent on.
JOHNSON: “Do you know how big of a win this would be for Cliff White if he could beat our new 4CW Fate Champion at All Or Nothing tonight?”
VASSA: “Yeah, it would be a big win. Unless you want Wrigley to serve you with a lawsuit, I would advise against it!!”
Lights out.
The four screens that make up the entrance set for 4CW click on one at a time to static. After a couple of seconds a human hand appears within the static of each of the four screens. Then one by one, with a heavy crashing sound each of the screens appears to be smashed by an unseen force, when the fourth one is smashed the lights of the arena flash back on and standing in a spotilght in the middle stage is none other than Eddie Valentine with the 4CW Fate Championship around his waist. Just then the opening of “Renegades of Funk” by Rage Against the Machine begins to play out over the arena. Valentine has a smirk on his face, a cocky and confident look on his face and walks with a strut that matches that. He is wearing a t-shirt which reads ‘Grab’em by the Fupa’ in 1980’s style neon font — the GRAB’EM and FUPA are enlarged so you can read them. Closely behind is none other than his entertainment lawyer, Chris Wrigley. Wirgley makes sure to stay a few steps behind at all times clutching his briefcase tightly and looking around threatening to serve anyone who gets to close to him with a lawsuit.

POWERS: “From the Entertainment Capital of the World, Atlantic City! Staning in at five foot ten inches, and a slim trim one hundred ninenty seven pounds, he is the two thousand and fifteen Pie Eating champion of the worrrrrrrrrrrrrrld and the 4CW Fate Champion! Here is EDDIE VVAALLEENNTTIINNEE!!!
Just as Valentine hits the ring with Barnes, Valentine heads to the ring ropes and removes his t-shirt which he tosses into the crowd for some lucky kid to have. At the same time Barnes tries to make sure that the referee is on the up and up, even trying to get him to sign a wavier or something. Slowly Valentine takes off his sunglasses and soaks in the spotlight one last time before his music begins to fade and the house lights return to normal.
VASSA: “Well here we go. Eddie said he wants to bring a reputation back to the 4CW Fate Championship, yet he’s not defending it tonight!!”
JOHNSON: “How ignorant can you be Vinnie? Valentine didn’t make that call!”
VASSA: “No he didn’t but I bet Wrigley did!!”
JOHNSON: “Give me a break…”

Valentine steps out of the corner and paces toward Cliff White. The two lock up and Eddie Valentine takes the lead, twisting White’s arm. He attempts to drive an elbow into Cliff’s bicep, but Cliff drops down and rolls out of it coming back to his feet. He whips Eddie into the ropes causing him to bounce back and goes for a clothesline, only to have it ducked under. Eddie springs off the adjacent ropes and comes bolting forward. White scouts Valentine and drives a shoulder into his ribs. As Eddie buckles forward, Cliff White springs against the ropes and rushes forward coming back into Valentine’s direction and hitting a swinging neckbreaker. White rolls to his feet and springs off of the ropes again, coming back and dropping a leg across the throat of a downed Eddie Valentine.
JOHNSON: “Cliff White trying to make an impact with the opportunity he was given tonight!”
VASSA: “Well, even though the title isn’t on the line, a win tonight could solidify him as a top contender!!”
Cliff reaches down and lifts Valentine by the shoulder pulling him to his feet. He delivers a chop to Eddie’s chest causing him to fall back into the turnbuckle. Cliff White takes a couple steps back before rushing forward and jumping into the air hitting a dropkick into Eddie’s chest causing him to stumble out of the corner and fall onto his stomach. With a look of confidence, Cliff White rolls Valentine over and locks him into a headlock. Tightening his grip Eddie fights to his feet and pushes him off, causing Cliff to hit into the turnbuckle. Whites impact causes him to spring back allowing Valentine to lock his waist and lift him into the air with a German suplex.
VASSA: “What is Wrigley doing outside the ring, he’s an idiot!!”
JOHNSON: “He’s showing support, because just like that Eddie Valentine is gaining momentum!”
Outside the ring, Wrigley starts shouting and cheering Eddie on as Eddie stands and reaches down grabbing Cliff’s wrist, pulling him to his feet. As Cliff White comes to a stand he reaches up and grabs Eddie by the head, dropping down and connecting a sit-out jawbreaker. With Valentine groggy, Cliff White runs forward and delivers a clothesline knocking him down to the canvas.At this point he looks to Wrigley who begins shouting that he will sue, White. With a mocking gesture, Cliff reaches down and lifts the 4CW Fate Champion to his feet. Kicking Valentine in the ribs he locks his head between his legs and lifts him for a powerbomb. Eddie counters by rolling over Cliff’s back and sending him down to the mat for a quick counter pin attempt.

JOHNSON: ”Quick pin attempt off the counter, smart move by Eddie Valentine!!”
VASSA: “Very sneaky, sneaky…”
Cliff kicks out and rolls onto his stomach. Both men climb to their feet and as White turns around he catches a forearm to the chin causing him to stumble back into the ropes. Eddie quickly grabs his wrist and pulls him forward lifting him and spinning him in the air, dropping him to the canvas with a belly to belly suplex. Once Valentine gets to his feet he paces over and starts to ascend the ropes, but Cliff White climbs to his feet as Eddie reaches the top rushing forward and tripping the ropes, causing Eddie to fall groin first onto the top turnbuckle. White climbs to the top rope and hooks Eddie Valentine’s head under his arms lifting him up and dropping him back with a superplex. Rolling onto his stomach, Cliff reaches out and climbs onto Valentine, hooking the leg for a pin.

VASSA: “Kick out by Eddie Valentine!”
JOHNSON: “That superplex looked great from Cliff White, though!!”
White sits up and climbs to his knees reaching down and grabbing Eddie by his hair, pulling Eddie to his feet as he stands up himself. He quickly kicks Eddie in the gut and tries to lock him in a DDT, but Eddie counters the move with a Northern Lights Suplex. Wrigley begins pounding on the mat from outside the ring to motivate Valentine. Valentine gets to his feet as Cliff crawls to the ropes and begins using them to make a stand. Eddie takes this time to run forward and connect a baseball slide into Cliff’s leg, stopping him from making a stand. With momentum in Valentine’s corner he reaches down and pulls Cliff White to his feet. Eddie fires a kick, but Cliff catches it. In order to keep things in his favor, Valentine keeps his balance and jumps into the air hitting an enziguri.
JOHNSON: “Smart move not to lose momentum!”
VASSA: “Great balance too!!”
Eddie looks down at Cliff and makes his way to the corner in an attempt to ascend to the top rope once more. Once at the top, Eddie turns around and jumps into the air, flipping with a moonsault. The attempt is blocked by White who lifts both knees, causing Eddie’s own momentum to be halted as he lands across them stomach first. Eddie rolls around holding his stomach in pain as Cliff reaches out and uses the ropes as a crutch to stand up.
VASSA: “That right there could be an instant game changer!!”
JOHNSON: “Both knees to Valentine’s ribs. You’re definitely right about that!!”
Once Cliff is to his feet, he stalks behind Eddie Valentine who stands to his feet. Eddie turns around and takes an elbow to the gut before Cliff White locks him up in double underhooks looking for his patented double underhook DDT. Eddie pushes Cliff away causing him to stumble backwards. Eddie rushes forward and attempts a crossbody, but as he jumps into the air, Cliff catches him with a well timed dropkick.Cliff climbs to a knee and then lunges himself forward, dropping an arm over Eddie Valentine for a pin.

White sits up and looks around frustrated as Wrigley begins to cheer Eddie on trying to help him catch his second wind. Cliff stands up and reaches down grabbing Valentine under his shoulder and pulling him to his feet. Out of desperation Eddie drives a knee into Cliff’s. Cliff tries to fire back with a clothesline, but Eddie ducks under it and turns around. Eddie grips both arms attempting to spin him into a Wham, Bam, Thank You Ma’am but before he can execute Cliff pulls himself out and locks Eddie into a Full Nelson. Eddie shakes it and spins back around facing Cliff and kicking him in the stomach again. Eddie stuffs Cliff’s head between his legs and lifts, attempting a cradle piledriver, but White fights the momentum and drops back down to his feet. Eddie breaks his grip and pushes Cliff back. Cliff tries to fire a right kick to Valentine’s side, but Valentine catches it. He spins Cliff around and then locks him in a bulldog, running forward and jumping into the air, planting his feet against the middle rope. Eddie spins out and drives Cliff face first into the canvas with a springboard bulldog.
JOHNSON: “What a great chain of counters we just seen!”
VASSA: “I must say, that was impressive!!”
Eddie takes a breather before climbing to a knee. He looks over at Wrigley who is telling him to end the match. Eddie pulls himself up and reaches down, grabbing Cliff White and pulling him to standing position. He tosses Cliff into the corner and then runs forward, monkey flipping him from the corner onto the canvas back first. Eddie takes the time to ascend the ropes quickly. He jumps into the air and connects a leg drop across Cliff White’s neck, wasting no time and hooking the leg for a pin.

JOHNSON: “Great heart shown by Cliff White, kicking out of the Tea Bag Drop!!”
VASSA: “Yeah, because you definitely don’t want to get beat by a move called the Tea Bag Drop!”
Eddie slowly gets up and stalks Cliff as he fights to stand. Once to his feet, Eddie tries to lock Cliff into the ‘Wham, Bam, Thank You Mam’ once more. Cliff tries to fight it off and eventually breaks out of it, but he fires a wild right, which Eddie blocks, causing Cliff White’s momentum to spin him around again. Eddie locks it up and lifts Cliff into the air spinning out and dropping him backward with a ‘I Think He Just Killed That Guy’. An exhausted Valentine falls back onto Cliff White for a pin.

JOHNSON: “I’ll tell you what, Eddie Valentine may have won, but Cliff White has nothing to be ashamed of. He just went toe to toe with the Fate Champion!!”
VASSA: “Valentine had to fight like hell to that trademark move off, that’s for sure!!”

A loud echoing dripping noise is heard before the camera cautiously cracks open the door to the arena’s boiler room. The camera is a bit shaky, looking around the dimly lite room. Looking past some heavy equipment and water tanks the camera focuses on a shadow, weaving back and forth across the wall. After a few moments the shadow gets darker and in the opening stands Dakota Smith, unaware, with his back facing the camera. He seems to be having a conversation with himself, his XTV championship hanging from his shoulder. His movement was erratic, constantly slapping himself, the wall in front of him, as well as his championship. He was also making very animalistic sounds, growling and snapping on himself.
SMITH: ”She walks into my home and calls it her, puts her hand on my property! MINE! Stupid fucking little bitch, tonight i’m going to teach her WHY” YOU DON’T FUCK WITH THE BUTCHER!. Look at you! I SAID FUCKING LOOK AT YOURSELF! You’re fucking scared aren’t you? This little slit is going to take your championship! YOU’RE GOING TO LOSE YOUR HEART ONCE AGAIN! Fucking pathetic ass coward, you don’t deserve this, ANY OF IT! Hall of fame, heh, nothing but a two bit stunt man who chokes when the pressure is highest! YOU’RE A COWARD! Why don’t you live up to your hype butcher? WHY DON’T YOU BE THE MONSTER THAT YOU ALWAYS PREACH TO BE. No better than the rest of em’. You deserve this tonight, that rope across your throat, YOU FUCKING DESERVE IT! She’s going to take it all away, take everything away and then you’ll be forgotten! You’ll just be another who gives a fuck stuck in the muck! THE CRIMSON PATH NO LONGER ACCEPTS ME!”
Dakota Smacks his head against the wall in front of him, cutting himself open but not too deep. Blood starts to run down his head and his whole demeanour seems to change. A certain sort of demonic confidence rushes over him and he can’t help but get a jaw wide smile on his face. He brings his hand up and wipes some of the blood from his forehead. He holds it out in front of himself for a few moments, seemingly getting lost within his own DNA. he then wipes it on the XTV championship before letting out a low, and sadistic laugh.
SMITH”I’m going to fucking gut the bitch, brain to anus gut her like the piece of meat she is. The butcher always gets his kill and tonight is no different. This is my world, my company…I’m going to wear her blood like a fine crimson coat, and then I am going to continue you on my climb to the top. I’ll get what’s mine… I’ll take back my heart!”
Dakota stops talking and sniffs the air, going motionless for a few seconds before quickly and menacing looking over into the camera. The camera jumps quickly exiting out of the room in a panic before going to static.

The scene opens up inside the Asshole Antagonists locker room. Your Hero and mine, and soon to be 1/2 of YOUR 4CW Tag Team Champions, Adrian Tanner Junior is seen with a piece of paper sticking to one hand while he moves things around inside of a locker with the other. Once he’s satisfied he’s got everything setup right he takes the paper and places it inside the locker and closes it, a small smirk on his lips.
TANNER: “There we go.”
A moment passes and Cecil Kennedy walks into the room, a large cardboard box end with the NEXTWAVE logo on the bottom of it in one hand.
KENNEDY: “How’s things?”
TANNER: “Good. How’d it go on your end.”
KENNEDY: “One crate of you-know-what’s delivered to Johnny Douchestick’s rental car.”
Cecil grins.
TANNER: “Awesome.”
The Arizona Assassin sits down on a bench, slowly rolling his head to get the kinks out of his neck, half-watching as Cecil throws the cardboard deep into the trash can on the other side of the room.
TANNER: “Can you believe Wallace made us get ready in this fuckin’ room again?”
KENNEDY: “I’m honestly surprised you didn’t see that coming.”
Adrian stops, pondering that for a second as he stretches out his arms.
TANNER: “Huh. Yeah no, I guess I CAN see it. It’s totally a Wallace play.”
KENNEDY: “Absolutely. How you feelin’ about the match? Ready to go win another set of tag titles?”
TANNER: “I’d be more ready if it was NEXTWAVE and not me and the backstabbing piece of shit Wallace forced me into teaming with again.”
KENNEDY: “Heh. One day man, one day.”
Cecil pats his former tag team championship partner on the shoulder
TANNER: “One day. Until that day comes I have to settle with Douchefuck McBackstabber over there.
Am I okay with that? Not really.
Do I have a choice? Not. Really.
So I’m gonna do what I do best, I’m gonna persevere in SPITE of everything. I’m going to drag Johnny Evil’s ass to a tag team title reign whether he likes it or not. So many people- SO MANY people, they loooooove to tell me ‘I can’t.’ I suck, I’m garbage, I’m a loser all that stupid shit that got old in third grade that these people love to throw out because most of their brains never matured past a third grave level. My favorite thing in life, in this business -aside from winning championships- is telling people ‘yeah except I CAN,’ and then fucking doing it!
The look on their faces is the best, man.”

KENNEDY: “It really is.”
TANNER: “And when they’re so shook by what you’ve accomplished, when they’re so thrown off by your ability to be right when they couldn’t POSSIBLY be wrong, that they run to twitter and whine about it to anyone who’ll listen- that’s when you know. That’s when you know you’ve truly got their number. When you know you’ve truly won in the end.
So that’s exactly what I’m gonna do tonight. I’m gonna do exactly what I said I’d do, just like I always do. Johnny Evil and I are gonna walk into that match for the tag team championships, and Johnny Evil and I are gonna walk OUT of that match tag team champions.
Why? Because fuck you, that’s why. But also because we’re smart enough, we’re competent enough, and gosh darnit- people like us.
Well, one of us.”

He shakes his head.
TANNER: “But don’t worry, when it’s all said and done, you’ll still have twitter. Twitter will always love you.”
Rolls his eyes.
TANNER: “It’s time to get back on track. It’s time to do what I came here to do in the first place.
It’s time to win all your titles.
You have no chance to survive, make your time.”

Fade to gold.
Adrian Tanner’s gold.


POWERS: ”The following contest is scheduled for one fall…”
The lights go dark as the beginning of “Blessings” by Big Sean hits the fans more then likely unhappy to hear the music playing. Out from the back dancing and wilding out is Jett Wilder followed by… no one. Alone, the young and small Jett Wilder is not nearly as imposing as he might be when Luiz Cavalcante and his mother could accompany him to ringside. But on this night, as he dances his way down to the ring, he will either have to win by himself or he’ll lose by himself..
POWERS: “Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California weighing in at one hundred and forty five pounds and standing five feet, eight inches tall, JETT WWIILLDDEERR!!!”
A bit anxiously, Jett looks towards the back surely wondering if it was the best idea to leave his usual escort behind. The thought only last for a moment, though, as Jett makes his way the rest of the way down the entrance ramp and pulls himself up onto the ring apron before he jumps up to the top rope pounding his chest as the crowd boos him. Finally bouncing back down taking off the hoodie he came out with to hand to the referee, who looks at him like he’s crazy before taking the hoodie and tossing it out of the ring to the timekeeper.
VASSA: ”And there he is, the Future Amazing Great himself. What an honor it is to be able to cover the worlds most recognizable FAG.”
JOHNSON: ”Oh for the love of god, Vincent.”
There’s a short sputter and hiss as a needle touches down on a record. Shortly after that the sound of “Suburbia” by Kavinsky starts to blare out of the PA system.
“I come to life
I come to life
Yea, I come to life”

It’s rough and scratchy, like a bad girl’s muff, but it gets the fans up off their asses as Dare Clemmens steps out from the entrance.
Oh yeah, he’s wearing those sunglasses he makes look so good, a black leather jacket and a t-shirt that reads quite plainly, “Stolen.”
“I come to life when I’m driving, see the city lights
Got me slipping, not too much to start it like
Because the night is young, and I got spots to hit
Bitches deceiving shit, shorty body feverish perfected”

He makes his way down towards the ring as the fans hoot and holler. There’s no Tony Chu and quite frankly, Dare seems more confident as he strides towards the ring.
When he finally makes it to the ring, he takes off his jacket and sunglasses and hands them off to a ring hand.
Dare slides into the ring and pops up to his feet. This guy is serious business or completely ready to die a terrible death. The fans are excited to find out. Dare removes his t-shirt much to the pleasure of the female fans. He balls it up and tosses it into the crowd.
“Welcome bitches up to perfection
I’m destined, please don’t try me son, I’m bad, who tested
All these nobody lames can’t see my flow
You would’ve thought it was legal, all the stour I blow”

That’s right, he’s build like he’s etched out of stone and has just the right amount of chest hair. His smile, oh my, it’s a devilish one. Those eyes? You wanna get you some. Male or female. You’re questioning your sexuality.
The music stops and Dare goes to his corner, ready to kill or get killed.
VASSA: ”I’m excited for this one, Steve. The rivalry between these two has been heating up from the moment Dare signed his contract, and the moment Jett returned to 4CW.”
JOHNSON: ”It’s certainly a display of two young talents but lets be honest. Dare already holds a victory over Jett, regardless of the circumstances. That has to be a factor doens’t it?”
VASSA: ”It’s possible that it will. Dare has been on a nice little run, choosing to compete as often as possible and with as many companies as possible.”
JOHNSON: ”That’s right, he holds two titles now doesn’t he? Although I’m not sure any company that employs Connor McGreg…errrrrr… C.J. O’Donnell these days is worthy of being mentioned.”
VASSA: ”Maybe, but we say it all the time. A win is a win is a win, regardless.”
JOHNSON: ”I suppose you’re right. C.J. is still an insufferable faggot though, and not the same kind as Jett.”
Referee Logan Whitby quickly checks both men over for foreign objects and then reminds the two of them of the rules of the match. Having gone over everything he needed to with them, he looks to both men for confirmation that they were ready for the match to begin. When both give him a thumbs up, Whitby backs up from the center of the ring and points at the timekeeper, signalling for the bell and the start of the match.

Before the match can even get started, though, there’s a disturbance at the top of the entrance ramp bringing the start of the match to a halt.
JOHNSON: ”For the love of god, what the hell is this non sense?!”
VASSA: “Cheerleaders! This is the kind of entertainment I’m talking about.”

And just as he says, there are a group of cheerleaders in the shortest skirts to ever be made heading down the ramp in a small jog; their pompoms shaking in enthusiasm as none other than Persephone Marquis leads them. They’re adorn in blue and white, their shirts saying “Wett for Jett!” which is exactly what the girls were chanting as they made their way to ringside.

Jett Wilder looks at them, a grin on his face as Dare looks confused at the spectacle. Jett smirks at Dare and shrugs. He doesn’t need to explain the lengths his fans will go to at this point. Nor does the loyalty of Persephone Marquis need to be questioned. Once more Dare glances to the outside of the ring, looking at the cheerleaders, and that’s all the opportunity that Jett needs. Sprinting across the ring, Jett leaps at Dare and collides with him with a double axe handle that knocks Dare back a few steps but doesn’t knock him all the way down to the mat. When Jett draws closer to him a second time, Dare connects with a stiff right kick to Jett’s left leg causing the smaller man to wince and back off, placing most of his weight on his right leg while shaking his other to try and get some of the feeling back to it.
Dare doesn’t let that go on for long, closing the distance and grabbing Jett by the wrist attempting to whip him into the ropes. At the last second Jett reverses and instead sends Dare into the ropes. When Clemmens rebounds and comes back at full speed he levels Jett with a shoulder block and the quickly follows up with a sharp elbow to the sternum, causing Jett to clutch at his chest and roll over on his side in pain.

JOHNSON: ”If this match is going to be a battle of overall strength, we might as well just hand the victory to Dare Clemmens right now.”
VASSA: “Who cares, Steve? Don’t you see the cheerleaders?!”
Johnson gives Vassa a derisive snort as Dare pulls Jett back up to his feet. Using his strength, Clemmens hoists Jett up into the air and looks to drop him with a powerbomb but at the last second Jett hooks his legs around Dare’s neck and flips him over with a hurricanrana.and leaves Dare laying on his back a few feet away from the ropes. Sensing opportunity, Jett quickly steps out onto the ring apron and lines Dare up, using the ropes as leverage to slingshot himself over the top rope, placing a leg drop across the throat of Clemmens before rolling back to his feet.
Gaining momentum, Jett flies across the ring and bounces off one set of ropes, sprinting towards the other set of ropes and leaping, using the middle rope to springboard himself backwards, twisting and catching Clemmens flush across the jaw with an enziguri. Again, it isn’t enough to keep Clemmens down for good as he takes a few moments to catch his breath but is quick to begin pushing himself back up to his feet. Feeling a bit frustrated, Jett decides to take a risk, running over to the corner and climbing the turnbuckle to the top rope. Once perched upon the top rope he turns himself around just as Dare is fully back on his feet, leaping and wrapping his arm around the back of Dare’s neck, driving him face first down to the mat with a top rope diving bulldog.

Upon impact, the girls cheer as they jump up and down in excitement. Marquis is a little more aggressive in her support, getting closer to the ring as she yells, just loud enough for the cameras to catch, “fuck him up, Jett! Fuck that pussy ass dude!”
VASSA: ”That’s more of the strategy that Jett is going to have to use if he wants to walk out of this match with a victory tonight.”
JOHNSON: ”The playing field was supposed to be equal, but with Persephone Marquis clearly out here in support of Jett, one has to wonder if Dare is at a bit of a disadvantage.”
VASSA: ”If the cheerleaders aren’t distracting him, I don’t know what would.”
JOHNSON: ”We don’t all think with our dicks, Vinny. But then again, I guess most of us see ours a lot more frequently than you see yours.”
Feeling confident, especially with the support of Marquis nearby, Jett grabs a fistful of Dare’s hair and stands him up. With a cocky smirk, Jett raises his hand and backhands Dare across the mouth and calls him his “bitch” which does nothing but to knock the cobwebs free and cause Dare to slowly turn back to meet Jetts gaze with an angry glare. Slowly, Wilders smile fades, realizing what he had done but it’s too late as Dare is quick to grab Jett around the waist and toss him over his head with an overhead belly to belly suplex.
Once more, Clemmens shakes his head still chasing away the effects of Jett’s blitzkrieg style attack from a few moments earlier. He glances across the ring to where the younger, and smaller, man’s body lay writhing in pain. Slowly, Jett tried to push himself up to his hands and knees but instead collapsed back down to the mat, coughing feebly although that was probably more of a ploy to try and gain some sympathy from his opponent than the fact that a single overhead belly to belly suplex had done that level of damage.
Not buying into it, Dare strolls across the ring and drags Jett up by his hair, much like Jett had done to him just a little earlier in the match. Mimicking what Jett had done, Dare looks him in the eye, calls him his bitch, and then backhands him across the mouth. Where it had only caused Dare’s head to snap to the side when Jett had struck him, when Dare struck Jett it flattens him completely. Rolling his eyes at the exaggeration of his opponent, Dare bends down and pulls Jett back up to his feet, this time transitioning to lift Jett high into the air and then drop him, back first, across his knee. Upon impact, Jett howls in pain and grabs desperately at his back, trying to chase the pain away.

VASSA: “Jett Wilder isn’t exactly what he used to be and-ow! What the hell?!”

One of the cheerleaders, upon being close enough to hear what he says, slaps the shit out of Vassa with a pompom. She yells profanities at him, continuously hitting him as Vassa shields himself. Johnson can be seen laughing and finally, Marquis goes to pull the angered Jett Fan away, yelling to Vassa, “Talk shit, get hit, bitch!”
In the ring, Jett pushes himself up to his knees and holds his hands up pleadingly in the direction of Dare Clemmens, who was stalking him slowly and closing the distance between the two of them one methodical step at a time. When Dare kneels down to pull Jett up once more, Jett instead counters with a thumb to Clemmens eyes and then, desperate to escape, crawls on his hands and knees between Dares legs. Once through to the other side, Jett pops up and turns around before leaping up onto the back of his opponent, wrapping his legs around Dare’s torso and using his arms to lock in a sleeper hold.
For the first few moments Dare remains calm, his hands reaching up and prying at the fingers of his opponent, trying to break himself free. Soon, however, the realization sets in that Jett has the sleeper hold locked in rather well and panic begins to creep into his mind. With every passing second the face of Dare Clemmens becomes more and more red. Eventually the loss of air causes him to begin to black out, dropping him to a knee and leaving him in a precarious situation.

VASSA: ”No way… there’s no way Dare doesn’t get out of this.”
JOHNSON: ”I don’t know, Vinny. He looks pretty close to being out if you ask me.”
Just before his second knee touches the ground, Dare manages one final burst of strength and energy, ripping Jett off of his back by tossing him over his head. Once the hold is broken, Dare falls back onto his backside, sucking in air as quickly as he possibly could and shaking his head to try and regain his bearings, as the world was spinning quite rapidly for him. Having gained some breath back, Clemmens climbs back up to his feet quickly and he gets there just in time as Jett has gotten back to a vertical base and taken off at lightning quick speed in his direction.


JOHNSON: ”Holy shit! What a side thrust kick that caught Jett flush. I think the kid might be out!”
Jett has, indeed, hit the mat like someone had shot him. Clemmens is quick to cover him, staring at Logan Whitby as he drops to count the pinfall attempt.

At the last possible second, Jett manages to get his foot up on the rope, putting a stop to what Dare Clemmens thought for sure was the end of the match. With a shake of his head, Dare gets back up to his feet and bends down, pulling Jetts body up with him where he then whips him across the ring to the opposite turnbuckle. The dazed future amazing great uses the turnbuckle to get some much needed, albeit brief, rest although he seems to be oblivious to the fact that his opponent has positioned himself in the opposite corner and looked ready to try and run him through with a high impact gore. A moment later, Dare confirmed that plan as he took off at a sprint across the ring in Jett’s direction.
At the absolute last second, Jett dives out of the corner and leaves Clemmens to crash through the top and middle ropes, slamming his shoulder into the steel ring post. As he stumbles back out, Dare grabs his right shoulder in pain while Jett kneels down a few feet away, rubbing at his jaw and wiggling his mouth to try and make sure everything was still working properly. After all, his mouth was pretty important. How else would he eat the next girls ass that Persephone drugged and set up for him?

The cheerleaders are in awe as the match continues, in love with Jett Wilder and the fight he was putting on for the fans, especially his own. Marquis, however, looked impatient. Almost anxious. She turns to the cheerleaders with a look of determination on her face.

MARQUIS: “Okay, girls! Show him the goods as a wish for good luck!”

The cheerleaders don’t even hesitate. They lift their shirts, revealing their tiddies to the referee, Dare, the fans, the people watching at home as the camera men close in on their pierced, hard nipples and, of course, Jett Wilder sees this. Wide eyed and staring, the girls continue to cheer for Jett with their breast out, jumping up and down, shaking their pompoms as Persephone moves to the side from the situation; a smile on her face as she watches everything unfold.
VASSA: ”Well there you have it ladies and gentlemen. Persephone Marquis truly is a saint. She blesses twitter with tiddies and now she blesses us in person with tiddies.”
JOHNSON: ”That last thing that woman is is a saint, Vinny. Let’s not kid ourselvs. She’s talented, yes, but that woman has more issues than Amy Winehouse.”
For a long moment it seems as though Jett is lost in a dream he thought would never come true. He reaches out, through the bottom and middle ropes, in hope of grasping the first breast of his lifetime that didn’t belong to his mother. And then, out of the corner of his eye, he catches movement from Dare and realizes that he’s distracted too. The front row then begins to stir as Frankie Morrison appears with a ticket in his hand. Looking over to see what all the commotion is about, Dare is distracted himself.
VASSA: “It’s Frankie Morrison and he’s come to watch his son as a fan for the first time ever!”
With a smile, he winks at Persephone and nods his head in her direction before standing, bouncing off the ropes and sprinting directly at Dare. WILDIN’ OUT! Jett connects squarely with a running lariat that finally knocks Dare all the way down and flattens him onto his back.
In spite of the distraction of a seemingly endless supply of bouncing tiddies outside the ring, Jett ignores them for a long enough moment to climb to the top rope and pause. As he does so he points down at Dare, laughing, before leaping from the top rope and connecting across the torso of clemmens with a frog splash that Jett had aptly named SWAG SPLASH! He doesn’t even bother to get up, instead hooking the leg of Dare Clemmens immediately as Logan Whitby slides in and begins to count.


VASSA: ”You’ve got to be shitting me…”
JOHNSON: ”Jett Wilder just beat the AWE Resilence champion and the… well whatever the hell McGreggor… err… C.J. calls that company he works for.”
The cheerleaders erupt as Jett’s hand is raised into the air following the announcement of his official win. Persephone Marquis is shocked, golf clapping just because she doesn’t know what else to do. The other girls get in the ring, showering Jett with affection and lifting him. Persephone huffs at the scene, heading to the ring and pulling Dare out by his ankle. She helps him get himself straightened up before slapping him in the back of the head.
JOHNSON: “Looks like Marquis isn’t happy with the results. Seems like this entire thing was a front to distract Jett.”
VASSA: “Tiddies? Greater men have fallen for less. Jett is truly a professional. Those were some top notch tiddies.”
JOHNSON: “How old do you think those girls are? Too young for you, that’s for sure, but I’m talking specifics.”
VASSA: “Don’t ruin this for me”
Marquis continues to yell and push him along, complaining and listing everything she had to do to try and make the plan work and, how the fuck does he get distracted by tiddies? Jett sees them and, rather than have the cheerleaders put him down, Jett gets on his feet and allows the girls to balance him before he calls to Persephone and Dare. Once they’re looking, he flexes arrogantly before falling back to be caught by the girls. He was probably a cheerleader in high school. Whatever.
Persephone is a shade of red and rolls her eyes, visibly angry as she grabs Dare by the wrist and pulls him along, letting Jett have his moment for now. In the background, Frankie Morrison applauds Jett’s performance tonight, proud of the hard work his son has put in.

The scene opens up with an awkward silence inside the Asshole Antagonist’s shared locker room which was appointed by Perry Wallace all in the spirit of ‘showing unity’. Tanner is lacing his boots up getting ready for the match while Johnny Evil paces back and forth before breaking the awkward silence…
EVIL: “Tanner, look…”
TANNER: “No, shut up. Don’t want to hear it!”
EVIL: “Look we gotta’ go into this match tonight as a team. I know I stabbed you in the back, but I was trying to make you see things from my perspective.”
TANNER: “So you toss me into Jason Cashe to get hit with a Mark Of Jason?!”
Baffled, Evil shakes his head.
EVIL: “I did it for your own good, man! You were getting too big for your britches!!”
TANNER: “That makes less sense that the Elvira looking fuck who didn’t beat me for my title getting you locked up on fake charges and you just sitting there and taking it.”
Sarcastically, Johnny fires back…
EVIL: “I don’t know, it seemed pretty legit at the time?”
TANNER: “Look, I’m focused for tonight. I want those titles more than I want the other assholes to have them. If I have to team with you- so be it. But I don’t have to like it.”
EVIL: “I know, I just wanted to say… I’m sorry that your brother got kidn–”
Tanner stands up with his boot halfway tied, ready to fight…
TANNER: “You of all people do not get to talk about my brother!”
EVIL: “Relax…”
EVIL: “I didn’t take your brother, but if anybody knows what you’re going through right now, it’s me. You of all people know that… I dunno’ maybe Sativa took him, maybe Dave? I’m the last person that would play the abduction card. That shit is so two-thousand and five for me…”
Johnny leans against his locker…
EVIL: “What I’m trying to say is don’t let that shit eat at you. Whatever happened, don’t let it get in the way of tonight. We have an opportunity to win these belts. So, let’s get the job done and we will worry about our disagreements when the time comes.”
Evil turns around and opens up his locker pulling out a box. He walks over and drops it on the bench next to Adrian, giving him a pat on the back.
EVIL: “No hard feelings, buddy. I actually got you a gift. You don’t have to thank me…”
Evil stands back and watches with a super excited look upon his face as Tanner opens the box. Looking down into his face draws an expression of discomfort.
TANNER: ”You have got to be fucking kidding me. Replica belts?”
EVIL: “Yea, it’s so tonight when when I win us the 4CW Tag Team Championship match and I take both titles you don’t have to worry about going home empty handed!”
Tanner shakes his head in disgust, gagging as if to sarcastically intend that he’s going to puke…
TANNER: “I think I’m going to be sick!”
Tanner quickly hops up and opens the door to his locker, leaving the replica 4CW Tag Team Championship titles on the bench. Grabbing a towel, he walks out of the locker room with a smirk on his face.
For a moment Evil looks confused, sitting down on the bench he lets off a chuckle. Looking back toward Tanner’s open locker, he chuckles a second longer shaking his head in amusement. The camera zooms in catching a line of Adrian Tanner bobble heads on the top shelf in Tanner’s locker. A note attached to them saying “EAT SHIT”
After the chuckle Johnny stands up, still shaking his head.

EVIL: “What a dick!”
Pulling the note from the bobble head’s Johnny crumples it up and drops it to the ground with a arrogant smirk.
EVIL: “So Tanner, you ready to win these tag titles tonight??”
Evil uses his pointer finger and taps the bobble head causing it to move up and down in a yes motion as the scene fades to ringside.



POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following XTV Championship will fall under the Hangman’s Crusade rules!”
The arena lights go out and a spotlight finds a single figure on the stage. Three more spotlights reveal the rest of the band Kittie. They start playing a metal version of the Battle Hymn of the Republic.
“Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord
She is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,
She has loosed the fateful lightening of Her terrible swift sword
Her truth is marching on.”

They then transition to their song BraCKiSH. As they do A spotlight finds Sativa Nevaeh standing at the top of the entrance ramp.
POWERS: “Coming to the ring first, from Los Angeles, California! Weighing in at one hundred twenty-five pounds and standing five feet, seven inches tall! She is ‘The Deranged Duchess’, SATIVA NNEEVVAAEEHH!!!”
She stares almost vacantly out at the crowd, A black light illuminates her face causing her sugar skull makeup to glow. She slowly starts to make her way to the ring dragging behind her a length of rope tied into a noose.
“She is not scared to die..
The best things in life drive her to cry.
Crucify then learn..”

She makes a circuit of the ring looking out at the crowd the entire time. She then rolls under the bottom rope into the ring and heads to her corner. She drapes the noose over the ring post and then takes a seat on the top turnbuckle waiting for her opponent.
POWERS: “And the opponent!”
“Welcome To Hell” starts to vibe over the speaker system, the lights go dark for a few moments before strobe lights begin to flash light through out the arena. Dakota Smith makes his way from behind the curtain and looks around the theater, his XTV Championship tied through a loop in his belt. He moves his head to the right and then to the left taking a long deep breath, the strobe lights giving you glimpses at his imposing demeanor. Dakota then snorts his head back and spits down onto the ground, quickly wiping his nose off and making his way down to the ring.
“These voices in my head are telling me you have to die
I obeyed their every wish
I’ll fuck your body infront of your kids
Cannibalism, I serve you up to the cult
You’re my latest dish
Picking human meat out of my teeth like Albert Fish
I’m a sick fuck pissed at the fact that I still exist”

POWERS: “Making his way down to the ring from The Depths of Hell, he weighs in at two hundred thirty one pounds and stands six feet, two inches tall. He is ‘The Butcher’ and the 4CW XTV Champion, DAKOTA SSMMIITTHH!!!”
About half way down the ramp, closer to the ring than the stage, Dakota stops. He stands there and runs his hands up and down his XTV Championship. He then chuckles to himself before cracking his neck to the left and then to the right, letting out a monstrous war cry before continuing down to the ring.
“Telling me to end your suffering
I see red and feel death coming
I will purge the world with no following
Bloodshed, feeling like an animal, caged
I’m going for your throat
Bloodshed, dripping from my face, I’m hollow
Make your skin into a coat”

As he reaches the ring he undoes the championship from his belt and tosses it over the top rope before rolling in under the bottom rope himself. He then plants his fist into the ground and pushes himself up and off of the mat, his head twitching as he gets on his feet. He looks around the audience once more before tilting his head to the side and laughing to himself. Dakota then scoops his championship up and off of the mat before going over to his corner and taking a seat.
JOHNSON: “We have a unique match on our hands next ladies and gentlemen.”
VASSA: “The Hangman’s Crusade Match!”
JOHNSON: “This thing could have went a few different ways. One way involved hanging the other in order to win, which this one does. The other involved pinning an opponent and then having to have the opponent remain down for ten second to get the win. Since neither could agree on the stipulation, we have The Hangman’s Crusade Match!”
VASSA: “So not only do one of these guys have to pin the other, they then have to hang them with a noose to get the win here tonight.”
JOHNSON: “That’s right! I’m glad you’re keeping up.”
VASSA: “You know that Dakota has been hanged multiple times, right? We’ve seen it in his promos. He’s hung Felicity Banks with piano wire at Fright Night. We saw it just last year when he returned at Winter Wasteland when Unstable kidnapped him. Hanging nor fire can keep this man down. I don’t think he’s ever going to die.”
JOHNSON: “You can’t kill what’s already dead.”
VASSA: “Luckily no one has to die in order for their to be a winner here tonight. I’m sure the ringside crew will step in before life is taken away by way of the noose.”
Walking over to Dakota, the official takes the belt away from him cautiously before scurrying back to the center of the ring. Holding the championship high above his head, the official turns to each side of the ring to show it off to the crowd. As he faces the last side of the ring, Dakota then stomps to the center of the ring, sneaking behind him and snatches the belt from his hands. The official quickly dashes to the edge of the ring to safety. Holding the championship above his head, Dakota snarls at the official until Sativa races in from behind with both hands on the rope and pulls it around his head, sliding it down to his throat. Dakota drops the championship to the mat as Sativa then drags him backwards across the ring.

Spinning Dakota around with the rope around his throat, Sativa then slams him chest first into the corner. Placing her foot on his lower back, she then pushes his body against the corner while pulling back on the rope. Prying his fingers beneath the rope, Dakota then tries to pull it from around his neck, fighting for every breath of air he’s able to get. Sativa then pulls the rope from around his throat, ripping it from Dakota’s hands. As Dakota turns around, he throws a wild punch but Sativa catches his arm in the loop of the noose and quickly tightens it, trapping his arm. Jumping over the top rope, Sativa flies to the floor before the rope tightens, stopping her fall just inches above the floor. Dakota’s arm flies over the top rope before his shoulder his nearly ripped out of socket as his underarm catches the top rope.
VASSA: “Jesus Christ she’s going to rip his arm from the socket.”
JOHNSON: “Anything goes and a Dakota with only one arm is an easier one to put down in my opinion.”
Pulling upward as hard as he can, Dakota rips the rope from Sativa’s hands, causing it to give her rope burn across her palms as it slides across her skin. Popping his shoulder back into place, Dakota pulls the noose from around his arm and then tosses it aside. Reaching underneath the bottom rope, Sativa grabs Dakota’s feet and then pulls them out from under him, dropping him to his back. As Dakota rushes to get back to his feet, Sativa hops up onto the apron just in time for him to charge in. Lunging forward, Dakota goes to grab sativa but misses as she ducks down and thrusts through the top and middle ropes, driving her shoulder into Dakota’s stomach. Standing back up, she then reaches over the ropes and pulls Dakota over, Hooking her arm around his head, she grabs onto the back of his pants before lifting him up and over the top rope, dropping him down onto the apron with a suplex.
JOHNSON: “Sativa is just one step ahead of The Butcher with her quickness and she’s using it to her advantage.”
VASSA: “Dakota is coming to her for blood like a rabid dog. He doesn’t care about caution or playing things smart. His sights are set to kill by any means necessary.”
Back on her feet, Sativa stands over Dakota on the apron and begins stomping on his head wildly. With each stomp, she moves him more and more over the edge until his head is finally hanging over the side of the apron. Grabbing onto the top rope, she then uses it as she jumps onto the bottom rope, vaulting herself straight into the air. As she comes down, she hits Dakota in the face with an elbow that flips his entire body over as he falls face first to the floor. Pulling Dakota back to his feet, she then drags him towards the corner of the ring before throwing him to the ringside steps. Reversing the throw, Dakota throws Sativa head first into the stops, causing them to topple over as she collides into them.
VASSA: “Sativa might be faster but she isn’t stronger than Dakota and it shows right there.”
JOHNSON: “Did you see that dent she left in the side of the steps?”
VASSA: “I did. Let’s just hope it didn’t knock her back into being looney again.”
Pulling Sativa up from the floor, Dakota quickly spins her around before wrapping her up and lifting her into the air. Falling back, he slams her against the corner of the ring with a German suplex. Sativa’s body slides down the corner before dropping on her head against the floor. Slowly pulling himself up with the apron, Dakota stands over Sativa before kicking her while she’s down. Over and over, he stomps on her head before reaching down and pulling her up to her feet. He then rolls her underneath the bottom rope and back into the ring. Climbing the side of the ring, Dakota ascends the corner before standing tall and looking over the entire ring. Leaping forward, he comes down with a leg drop across Sativa’s throat.
Slow to his feet, Dakota then turns to the corner once more but this time he doesn’t climb to the top. Instead, he begins removing the padding away from the turnbuckle, exposing the bare metal underneath. Turning back to Sativa, he walks over to her and lifts her up from the mat. Grabbing onto the back of her head, he then walks her to the corner before slamming her head forward with all of his might. Kicking her foot up and planting it on the middle turnbuckle, Sativa stops her movement forward. She then fires with an elbow to Dakota’s midsection, forcing him to release her head. Reaching up with both hands, Sativa then slams Dakota’s face down onto the bare metal of the corner.


Keeping Dakota’s face pressed against the metal, Sativa then violently begins dragging it back and forth, digging into Dakota’s flesh with the edges of the buckle. Pulling his head away, she reveals to the world the crimson mask that Dakota now wears in the ring. Gushing from his forward, blood flows over his face and down to his chest, looking like something straight from a murder scene. Not satisfied, Sativa then slams his face down onto the metal once more, this time even harder than before.

She then pulls his face away from the corner as the red liquid glistens just as the light hits it. Turning him away from the corner, she then walks him away before picking up the pace, dragging him along. Throwing Dakota forward, Sativa sends him to the ropes as the reach the center of the ring. As he closes in on the ropes, Dakota drops down and slides feet first to the outside on his stomach, leaving a blood trail behind him. Landing feet down to the floor below, he then turns behind him where the announcers booth is within feet. Walking along the length in front, he drags his arm across the booth, sweeping everything off that gets in the path of his arm. Slapping Johnson’s cup of water at the very end, Dakota spills it onto a member of the ringside crew sitting nearby in a steel chair.
Approaching the crew member, Dakota waves for him to move, scaring him off even. He then picks the chair up and folds it, holding it tightly in both hands. Turning to the booth, Dakota slams the chair down onto the table.

JOHNSON: “By God what is he doing?!”
VASSA: “Literally scaring the shit out of me!”
Inside the ring, Sativa then takes off and runs towards the ropes. Diving through them, she flies towards Dakota but as he turns to her, she tackles him while smashing her head against the chair in his hands. Falling backwards, Dakota crashes against the barricade at ringside as sativa’s body forces the chairs top to jab him underneath the jaw. The chair then slides across the floor as Dakota holds his hand over his bloody mouth. Pushing Sativa off of him, he then slowly pulls himself up to his feet using the barricade for support. Pulling Sativa up from the floor, Dakota then wraps his hand around her throat before lifting her up into the air. Turning his body around, Dakota then takes a few steps forward before chokeslamming Sativa onto the announcers booth.
JOHNSON: “Can’t you see we’re working here!”
VASSA: “Steve, calm down. Don’t make him angry.”
JOHSSON: “NO!!! I’m sick and tired of people thinking they can invade my working area. You don’t see me getting into the ring during matches interrupting the talent.”
With Sativa laid out across the booth, Dakota turns back and walks over to the chair, picking it up from the floor and gripping it tightly in his hands. Turning back to the booth, He then charges over while raising the chair over his head. Swinging downward, he takes a swing for Sativa.

The chair bounces off the booth as Sativa rolls off and down to the floor, avoiding the nasty blow. Before Dakota can ready up for another swing, Sativa pops to her feet and grabs the chair with both hands. The two then struggle back and forth, fighting for the chair. Allowing Sativa to pull it in her direction, Dakota then thrusts it forward, smashing the backrest across her face and knocking her against the side of the booth. Dakota then slams the chair to the floor before reaching over and grabbing Sativa by the head with both hands. Ripping her away from the corner, he then hits her with a sit-out facebuster, driving her face into the cold hard steel.
Lifting Sativa’s head up from the chair, the camera zooms into blood smeared across the backrest. The Butcher than stands to his feet and pulls Sativa up as well. Dragging her to the apron, he rolls her back into the ring before turning back to grab the chair. After reaching down to grab the chair, Dakota slowly stands back up, looking to Vinny with a smile on his face and winking. Dakota then blows him a kiss before wiping his hand across his face and removing some of the blood. Reaching over the booth, he then pats Vinny on the shoulder, leaving a bloody handprint on his clothing. With a snarl, Dakota then snaps at Johnson before turning back to the ring.

JOHNSON: “He doesn’t scare me!”
VASSA: “Steve, chill out. I don’t want something bad to happen to you, like you know, being murdered by Dakota.”
JOHNSON: “The days of wrestlers pushing me around are over with. No more!”
Before Dakota reaches the ring, the lights throughout the entire arena go out.
JOHNSON: “Get a grip, Vinny!”
VASSA: “Okay.”
JOHNSON: “Let go of me you big baby!”
As the pitch black darkness consumes everything, the entire arena goes silent. A recording then plays over the speakers, familiar in fact.
“If I live, I will kill you. If I die, You are forgiven’.
Such is the rule of honor.”

VASSA: “What the fuck?!”
JOHNSON: “Is that…”
The entire arena erupts as those words echo throughout the building. The lights then flicker briefly before coming back on. The noise level in the building then elevates even louder as the sight.
VASSA: “It’s–“
VASSA: “What’s he doing here?!”
Standing behind Dakota with a hammer in hand, Cyrus stares at Dakota, motionless as the fans go crazy. Dakota senses something, looking overhead and from side to side. Before he even begins to look behind him, Cyrus quickly strikes with the hammer in hand, driving it into the back of Dakota’s skull!
VASSA: “He just hit Dakota with the hammer!”
JOHNSON: “What goes around, comes around! Dakota did the very exact thing at Adrenaline fifty-one when he turned on Cyrus.”
VASSA: “Talk about waiting till you least expect it! Why now!?”
Cyrus then steps over Dakota’s fallen body, looking down at him with the hammer still in hand. He then drops down to one knee before wrapping his hand around the metal of the hammer. Swinging fiercely, Cyrus hits Dakota over and over in the back of the head, breaking his skin and forcing the blood to flow from the Butcher’s head. With blood covering his entire fist, Cyrus then tosses the hammer aside before standing to his feet and pulling Dakota up from the floor.
Meanwhile, Sativa slowly gets back to her feet, looking on from the inside of the ring with confusion. Cyrus then rolls Dakota back into the ring before taking backwards steps away from the ring and looking on from a distance. Groggy, Dakota slowly begins to stir as the blood puddles around him. Sativa then grabs the XTV Championship and stands back, waiting for her moment to strike. Barely able to stand, Dakota rises to his feet a bloody mess and as he does, Sativa charges in and slams the championship against his face, knocking him against the ropes.


She then drops the championship to her feet before grabbing Dakota and wrapping her arms around his head. Jumping forward, she drives his face into the belt with a three-quarter front face bulldog.
JOHNSON: “Got Em!”
VASSA: “They both did!”
Dakota rolls over to his back, his entire front body covered in blood from head to toe. Crawling over him, Sativa makes the cover as the official slides in with the count.

JOHNSON: “There’s the pin! All she has to do now is follow up with the hanging and this one will be over.”
VASSA: “Look at him snickering over there. He just may cost Dakota his championship here tonight.”
JOHNSON: “I’m glad to see Cyrus back!”
With the rope nearby, Sativa quickly grabs onto it before crawling back towards Dakota. She slides the noose over his head and then tightens it around his throat. Standing to her feet, she then drags Dakota like a dead dog across the ring. Pulling him up, she slams him into the corner, draping his arm over the top rope to keep his weight up. Turning back, she then grabs the XTV Championship from the floor and with both hands, she hits Dakota in the face with back to back shots. Dragging the belt back and forth across his face, she smears his blood over the entire face of the belt before dropping it at her side.
Grabbing the rope, she then ties the end around the middle rope. Pulling Dakota away from the corner, she then lifts him up and over the top rope, dropping him over the side to his fate. Just before Dakota’s feet hit the floor, the rope tightens over the top rope, abruptly stopping him from touching down. With that, the official then calls for the bell.


JOHNSON: “We have a new XTV Champion!”
VASSA: “Sativa’s won it! She’s beaten the Butcher.”
JOHNSON: “I can’t think of a better way to bring in a second reign other than hanging Dakota Smith at ringside.”
Sativa watches as Dakota’s lifeless body hangs from the rope. The official then steps in beside her and hands her the championship before raising her arm into the air.
POWERS: “Here is your winner and new XTV Champion, SATIVA NNEEVVAAEEHH!!!”
Riddle then slowly approaches Dakota as he hangs from the rope. Pulling a knife from his pocket, he then reaches up and cuts the rope, dropping Dakota down to the floor. Leaning over Dakota, he then presses the blade against his chest before cutting through the skin from one side to the other. Wiping the blade across his pants, Cyrus then folds it before placing it back into his pocket. Grabbing Dakota by the face, he tilts it up before leaning in for a closer look.
RIDDLE: “You aren’t getting off that easy. We’re just getting started.”
Cyrus then stands up and turns away, ignoring everything around him as he walks around the ring and heads up the ramp. Looking on, still in confusion, Sativa shrugs her shoulders before raising the championship high above her head once more as the blood covers her as well.

Backstage the cameras find Genevie Carlson walking down the hallway, with an unfamiliar face. It’s a young girl. She’s just a bit shorter than Genevie with long brown hair, and tan skin. Almost a mini version of Gen if you weren’t looking at them close up. They were talking, and the camera got closer.
SARAH: “I don’t know why you insisted going to the vending machine with me. I have this pass around my neck.”
G. CARLSON: “Sarah, this is 4CW and I’m a target here for a lot of jealousy, the second someone knows you’re here with me, or even Eli for that matter. BOOM. Kidnapped or Assaulted. Plus you’re not even eighteen, and I’m responsible for you right now.”
Sarah unwrapped her Snickers bar and rolled her eyes at Genevie, as she Genevie seemed just as annoyed with the girl
SARAH: “Not like my mom would even notice if something happened to me.”
G. CARLSON: “I would, and that’s all that fucking matters. I was already uneasy about bringing you here in the first place.”
SARAH: “Well I’m glad you did! This is so exciting. Waiting for things to start, and just watching you, Eli and Tara get ready. What you and Tara have planned. I can’t wait to see it!”
Gen smiled, it was weird having a fan, or someone even excited to see what she was doing, judging by the look on her face.
SARAH: “You and your husband work really hard to do this, huh?”
G. CARLSON: “We do. It takes up a lot of our time. It has to, and even then we don’t always win. I’m confident in our abilities and all our preparations. We support each other, even if at times it doesn’t seem like we do.”

Sarah nodded her head as they continued to walk. Gen sighing as they drew closer to The Royal Family locker room
SARAH: “You guys were fighting the last time I saw you. You weren’t even sure if you were going to be married. I finally meet your husband and it doesn’t even seem like it happened.”
G. CARLSON: “That’s how Eli and I work. Nobody in this building can hurt us the way we hurt each other sometimes, but that I guess is part of the marriage. We appreciate each other’s honesty and we find ways to work through it. Being able to separate this place though from home has been helping a lot.”
SARAH: “Does it ever really bother you that people don’t think you’re anything without Eli?”
G. CARLSON: “If I’m being honest? Sometimes. I worked hard long before Eli was in my life for this career and I was very successful. I hit a few bumps in the road, that happened to have happened after Eli. Of course people are going to try to let that define me. I’ll just push back harder and stand up for myself. Eli’s amazing, but so am I. We make a great team, but we are also great on our own.”
SARAH: “I watched old Adrenalines to get prepared for this. So I knew everyone. You regretting that decision you made not to have Eli’s back and go with him to the ring?”
Genevie raised her eyebrow and stopped just outside their locker room door. Shaking her head.
G. CARLSON: “No I don’t. Why?”
Sarah shrugged and took another bite of her chocolate bar before putting her hand on the door.
SARAH: “No reason. You just seemed pretty happy to be there. Then you let people get in your head and ruin it for yourself.”
She didn’t let Gen answer she just opened the door and walked inside the room as Genevie clicked her tongue against her cheek and ran her fingers through her hair, erasing all the different emotions off her face before heading inside the locker room with a smile on her face. Sarah sitting herself on the couch. Gen eyed the girl as she just smiled at her. Eli came out of the bathroom, his gear on. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a kiss.
E. CARLSON: “Shouldn’t you be getting ready, and meeting Tara to set things up?”
G. CARLSON: “I’m going to. I just wanted to make sure I got to see you. I know you don’t need me to wish you luck or anything, and I won’t be out there but I’m supporting you and I know you’re gonna walk out still the 4CW Champion. Be careful though. Stevens is part of the reason JPD isn’t back yet and I’m sick of seeing you get hurt. Just come back to me in one piece. Please?”
Eli offered her an easy smile and shook his head.
E. CARLSON: “It wouldn’t be a pay per view if I didn’t end up in the hospital. But don’t worry I’ll be fine. This isn’t the Warzone of Horrors and Stevens doesn’t come close to having the sort of talent that Jair had in his pinky. Watch out for Tanner and his dumbass Revolver, okay? He likes to try and hit that stupid thing out of nowhere. You two have got this. Just stay focused and you’ll be fine.”
She nodded her head, she had been a bit nervous but Eli’s reassurance seemed to relax her.
G. CARLSON: “Of Course. I know we got this. I love you.”
Gen leaned in and kissed Eli, not for very long before the teenager in the room cleared her throat at them. Gen pulled away as Eli looked over at the couch out of the corner of his eye a bit irritated. Before they could address the situation in walked Tara. Gen completely removed herself from her husband’s side.
G. CARLSON: “TARA!! Sorry. I had to take Sarah on a trip down the hall, but I’m ready now! I know we got a lot to do still!”
DAVIDSON: “Don’t worry about it, I figured you were in here with Eli anyway, always nice to see the husband before a match.”
Tara smiles slightly at her own comment before she taps the golden plate of the tag team championship belt around her waist.
DAVIDSON: “I’m ready whenever you are though, I can’t wait to get out there and blow everyone away in this match, especially with that big entrance we have planned to remind them of exactly who we are.”
Gen grinned as she grabbed her title off the couch and hugged it close to her chest.
G. CARLSON: “That makes two of us. Let’s go make sure those imbeciles know what they are doing so everything goes off without a hitch.”
Gen snapped her fingers and looked over at the couch.
G. CARLSON: “YOU. Do not leave this room unless Eli is with you or one of us comes back. I’ll be back after my match.”
SARAH: “Yes mother..”
G. CARLSON: “Eww. Don’t call me that.”
Genevie had a look of disgust on her face before shaking it off and looking back at her husband with a smile which he returned, they weren’t talking but they had said everything to each other in that brief moment. Genevie linked arms with Tara and walked out the door, walking down the hall.
“Can’t wait to really show them all Tara! This is our time. We are going to dominate this tag division and elevate these titles to new heights. All our efforts pay off tonight!” It’s time for a Royal Sweep.”
They smirked and laughed as they walked arm in arm down the hallway, disappearing around a corner as the camera faded out.

As the camera returns to the ring, the lights are out. Soon, a single spotlight illuminates the center of the ring to show Matthias Barrows sitting there alone with the Pride Championship around his waist.
“Oh no, not this guy again.”
VASSA: “Don’t be rude.”
Matthias sits there leaning back in his chair with his legs crossed, twirling a microphone in his hand. He waits for the boos to die down before he brings the mic up to his lips.
“You people make me sick.”
This gets the crowd booing some more.
“Barrows isn’t making any friends here tonight in Boston.”
VASSA: “Matthias has plenty of friends. He doesn’t need them.”
M. BARROWS: “I’ll tell you why you make me sick, and it’s not just because the Patriots are cheaters. It’s because you people in this crowd, and those watching me on TV right now are exactly the same as everybody sitting in that locker room. Each and every one of you has vastly underestimated me. I’ve spent seventeen and a half years now putting everything I have into this business, and when I’ve spent all that time honing my craft, it really pisses me off when someone looks down their nose at me as if to say I’m not good enough, when the truth is that no one back there is good enough to share this ring with me!”
VASSA: “You have to admit, he’s got a point.”
JOHNSON: “Well we’ll find out here shortly.”
M. BARROWS: “The way I see it, this 4CW Pride Championship is exactly where it should be, and in about an hour, I’m going to make it official. When I beat the living piss out of Bryan Williams tonight, make him tap out like it’s going out of style, and expose him for the pretentious fraud he is, All of you are going to have to admit that you underestimated me when I become the official Pride Champion, and it will be MY turn to make all of YOU sick!”
VASSA: “I can’t wait to see that.”
JOHNSON: “He still has to beat Williams.”
M. BARROWS: “You see, history is repeating itself at this very moment. All of you; you filled my mailbox with your useless mail, asking when I was going back to the ring. On the off chance you’d see me at the grocery store, or the post office, or at a restaurant trying to have a meal with my family, you’d ask me when I was going back to the ring. Be careful what you wish for, because you got it, and now you don’t like it. Now, Bryan Williams has requested two out of three falls, and that one of them must be scored by submission. Be careful what you wish for, because you got it, and you’re not gonna like it.”
VASSA: “He’s speaking truth right here.”
M. BARROWS: “I must have asked myself a thousand times by now; “Why am I being underestimated?” The only answer that I can fathom is that the staff, the performers, and the fans of 4CW simply aren’t getting enough humble pie in their diet. Now Matthias Barrows can stand to eat his own words, but none of you can stand to see him succeed. I see it in the eyes of everyone who shifts their gaze at me and personally, I cannot wait to give you a worse miscarriage of justice since Brady cheated his way to another Super Bowl!”
This gets the crowd to boo some more, and even some chants for the Patriots Quarterback.
“I don’t know why he’s talking. He’s a 49ers fan.”
VASSA: He has two teams. The Niners, and whoever’s playing the Patriots.”
Matthias sighs while he waits for the booing and Brady chanting to die down.
“I have spent my entire career in this business GIVING, and now that I demand to be receiving, suddenly I’m the asshole. Well I’ll tell you what, being the giver that I am, I’m going to give an opportunity right here and right now. First things first, get me a referee.”
JOHNSON: “A referee? What is this about?”
After a few seconds, a referee runs down the ramp and slides into the ring while Matthias unstraps the Pride Championship and sets in in the corner of the ring.
“Now what I’m about to do here is issue a challenge. If someone can beat me right here and right now, I’ll let them have my spot against Bryan Williams later tonight for the Pride Championship. It’s a really simple concept; Win and you’re in, and you bounce me out.”
VASSA: “What a philanthropist Matthias is!”
JOHNSON: “I don’t know how wise this is, there’s a whole locker room full of competitors back there who would love the opportunity to be the Pride Champion.”
M. BARROWS: “Okay, I think we’re ready. But before we get started, I just want to tell you people not to get used to this sort of thing. I just happen to be in a giving mood tonight. Now, without any further ado, bring out my opponent!”
VASSA: “This is great! Who’s it going to be?”
JOHNSON: “Honestly, I’m a little anxious to find out myself.”
After a few seconds of suspense, “Billy Crystal” by Yelawolf plays throughout the arena and Matthias’ “opponent” walks out wearing a Tom Brady jersey.
“Hey! It’s Freedumb!”
JOHNSON: “You’ve got to be kidding me! Freedumb couldn’t wrestle his way out of a wet paper bag! This is just more of Matthias Barrows feeding his own ego.”
VASSA: “What are you talking about? Matthias is giving an opportunity here! What an act of charity!”
As Freedumb slides into the ring, the referee is seen talking with Matthias.
“Of course this is what I want! Just do your job and I’ll do mine. I’m ready, he’s ready, now ring the bell and lets do this thing.”
The referee shrugs, makes sure both men are truly ready, and calls for the bell.

JOHNSON: “And it looks like this impromptu match is actually going to take place.”
Both competitors circle each other for a few seconds, before Freedumb starts shouting.
“Hey Matthias! Your mother is a terrible cook!”
VASSA: “OOOHHHH! Did you see that!? Matthias has been #Baited!”
Barrows rolls his eyes as Freedumb takes a swing with his right hand! Matthias ducks and kicks him in the gut before pulling him over to the turnbuckle. Without hesitation, he grabs his doubled over opponent by the midsection, spider-legs himself up the turnbuckle, and powerbombs him to the mat!
“And there’s the Overdose!”
Having landed in a pinning situation, the ref slides in to make the count.


JOHNSON: “Well, thanks for coming, Freedumb.”
VASSA: “Someone check the record books. I think Matthias may have just scored the quickest victory in 4CW history!”
POWERS: “Here is your winner…Matthias Barrows!”
As his entrance theme plays, Matthias is quick to roll out of the ring and grab the mic again, slinging the Pride Championship over his shoulder in the process.
“Cut the music. I’m not in a giving mood anymore. Now although I expect my opponent tonight will put up more of a fight, you’re going to get the same result; me leaving a heap out of my opponent and walking out with this title, so don’t go planning any retirement party just yet.”
That’s when Matthias grabs Black Betty and looks directly into the camera.
“Here’s blood in your eye, Bryan Williams. In about an hour, that’s going to be you!”
Matthias rears back with his weapon and swings, stopping a few inches from the camera before giving it a love tap while he gives a chuckle, prompting his music to play again.
“Well, Matthias had his warm-up match, but Bryan Williams is going to be more of a challenge for him than Freedumb, mark my words.”
VASSA: “Speaking of Freedumb, someone needs to get out here and help him to the back. That Overdose may have given him whiplash.”
Several EMTs run past Matthias as he walks back up the ramp to prepare for his Pride Championship match.

A squeal is heard as the cameras cut to the backstage area. Persephone Marquis is seen getting a darker shade of pink as the anger in her begins to boil.
QUEEF: “I swear to God, Ween, you get on my nerves!”
Camera turning to see it was Jason Cashe standing in front of her with his head tilted to the side. He’s staring back at her with the Raabies Mask still covering his face. Persephone’s hands were balled into tight fists that shook at her side. Obviously, she doesn’t have the patience for whatever Cashe is doing. Then, he opens his mouth and it can be seen where the annoyance spawned from.
CASHE: “Blah? Blah Blah Blah..?”
QUEEF: “You’re about to have me fight you right now.”
CASHE: “Blaawwww…”
The next sound is Marquis squealing and it fills the walls, floors, and doorways. Stepping into it, she shoves Cashe to the chest and he stumbles back as laughter comes out from under the mask. Queef loses every ounce of patience that she has as she huffs, turning around to begin walking off.
QUEEF: “Always wanting to be special. You really live up to the hype, at least there…”
She’s saying things intentionally to dig at him now, knowing what she needs to say to get a reaction. The comment would have caused for a bitter response in any other situation, but on a table against a nearby wall sat a Salt Shaker. Grabbing it, Cashe clears his throat and calls out to Queef.
CASHE: “BLAH! Blaaaaaah?”
She ignores him, containing to walk. Having to jog to catch up, he turns her around and holds up the salt shaker to catch her attention.
CASHE: “Blah blah blah?”
QUEEF: “Are you Salty?”
She flinches back, eyes wide in self shock. Had she just understood what he was saying in “Blahs”? Shaking her head, she has to leave the area; get away from him before she stabs him in the throat or worse. Cashe is excited that she understood exactly what he had said in code. Watching as Queef leaves around a corner, Cashe begins to chase after to her.
CASHE: “Blaaaaah!!”
Stopping in his tracks, Cashe goes jaw dropped as Scott Stevens comes into view. He was wearing a shirt at LEAST three sizes too small. His muscle popped and if the shirt had a voice, it’d be crying. Hurrying over to the Contender fighting for the 4CW Title tonight, Cashe holds out his open palms.
STEVENS: “Well that gap is recognized anywhere.. Hello Cashe.”
CASHE: “Blah?”
STEVENS: “What?”
No hesitation and Jason Cashe grabs two handfuls of Scott Steven “Man Boobies” and Stevens is taken back by it. Swiping Cashe’s hands away but the “tRoUbLeD1” returns them and begins almost massaging them.
STEVENS: “What in the hell are you doing?”
CASHE: “Blaaah Blah Blaah Bla!”
STEVENS: “I know they’re bigger and more impressive looking than Queefs but if you keep touching me I’m going to blah all over your face with my fist.”
Cashe rips his hands away giving Stevens a dirty and offended look. Breaking from his Blahs wasn’t going to happen or else he’d have started Trouble with Stevens there and then.
CASHE: “Blah blah blah blah blah blah…”
Mumbling most of the Blahs as Stevens passes by Cashe and continues about his business. Cashe shrugs and turns to get back on the Queef chase. Jogging around the corner he again is forced to stop in his tracks… There leaning against the far wall was newer 4CW weirdo, Viduus Morta. Arms crossed with a cane in his right hand.
CASHE: “Blaaaagh!”
Viduus turns to take notice of Cashe standing only a hallway apart. Tilting his head to the right ever so slightly, Viduus gives Cashe a smile. His orange eyes give Cashe a shiver down his spine. Not wanting to interact with something more strange than him, Cashe starts walking but Viduus has a few words to say. Using his cane to hang out in front of Cashe so he doesn’t pass, the two come to face one another.
VIDUUS: “You, Jason, do humans a disservice and we can not allow for you to continue your lineage. It would be catastrophic to for all to see you carry on your genetics…so Jason, this is for all humans and the world that needs saving.”
Confused as ever, Cashe has no idea what this weird fucker was saying. He had half the mind to snatch the cane up and snap it over his knee. Something in him said not too though.
CASHE: “…Blah..”
Viduus strikes the cane hard to the ground as an adult in a white cloak, with their face hidden walks up to Jason. The cloaked individual tilts its head to the left before holding its hands up to its face and blowing a purple dust all over Cashe’s face. The cloaked individual retreats.
VIDUUS: “There is no need for your bloodline to continue as you have disgraced your kind and your world enough.”
As Cashe wipes away the dust that had been blown in his face, residue of the powder forming due to a mixture with sweat. By the time he opens his eyes, Viduus is nowhere to be found. The powder was tangy and burned in his eyes but he’d worry about translating Viduus’ words later. Now he needed a shower.
CASHE: “Blaaah this shit..”
It was over as he searched for Viduus more. Mocking the talent on the roster who force feed people every show. The only thing he was missing was doing it at ringside before or after, even during a match. Because someone wants to hear people talk when a match is scheduled. Shaking his head, Cashe knew that the hungry would fight for a place at the big table. Cashe did need to over do anything, what he did with less is more powerful than what they do with much more. Leaving the scene, Cashe was done with the blahs.



POWERS: ”The following contest is a triple threat tag team championship match and is scheduled for one fall….”
“Go head and move it, mama, I’m down to see you shake it.
I live for money, honey, you make me wanna make it.
I give a bloody fuck bout if you gots a couple rolls.
I cut a line, you cut a rug, go head and touch your toes.”

The lights go down in the arena, as “Power Play” begins to start. The only thing we can see at first is “GENERATION NOW” in bright white letters on the screen. It moves with the beat of the song, cutting to various clips of members in Generation Now. We see Bryan, Bronx, Sativa, Manny, and Lauryn in various aspects around the ring, and in action.
The arena lights come back up, as Bronx Valescence and Lauryn Wolfe come out from the back. The song continues to play, as the duo with maximum levels of chemistry stand around on the stage. The fans seem to give them a warm reception, but they waste no time standing around. With the ring in their view, they begin to walk down towards the ring.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring, representing GENERATION NOW, weighing in at a combined total of three hundred thirty two pounds… IT HIM! BRONX VALESCENCE AND THE TRIGGER QUEEN HERSELF… LAURYNNNNNNN WOLLLLFFFEEEEE!!”
Bronx and Lauryn approach the ring, wasting no time as they slide under the bottom rope. They stick to their side of the ring, sticking to their corner as they begin to discuss the upcoming match with each other.
The house lights dim to black and a video begins to play on the screen.

Philip J. Fry and Bender “Bending” Rodriquez stand at the front of an Earth Army recruitment line. They can’t stop giggling to themselves as the step up to talk the recruiter.
BENDER: ”Hello… We’re here because we, uh, love our planet.”
RECRUITER:”Sign here on the dotted line, Patriots, and I’ll give you your discount cards.”
FRY: “Just outta curiosity, we can use our discount cards to buy gum, then immediately quit the army, right?”
BENDER: “You know? Playing you all for chumps?”
RECRUITER: “Correct, there’s no obligation.”
Fry and Bender continue giggling to themselves as they sign the paper.
RECRUITER: “Unless of course, war were declared.”
The recruiter nods ominously. Suddenly, the red lighted alarm goes off behind them. A close caption underneath the alarm light reads “Asshole Alarm. Fry and Bender look around in confusion.”
FRY: “What’s that!?”
The Recruiter locks his hands in a sinister fashion.
RECRUITER: “War were declared.”
The sixth time, the gun fires and the screen shatters into a million pieces as “Tom Sawyer” by Deadsy booms through the speakers and Adrian Tanner Jr appears standingin the middle of the stage, head covered by the hood of his ring jacket. Red and white spotlights illuminate the stage as the music plays through the PA.
POWERS: “Introducing to the ring from Tucson, Arizona, weighing in at two hundred twenty-seven pounds and standing six feet, one inch tall! He is ‘The Arizona Assassin’… ADRIAN TANNER JJUUNNIIOORR!!!”
As 4CW’s esteemed Ring Announcer does his job, Adrian raises both arms over his head letting them come to rest stretched out in front of him, pointing like guns at the ring. At the announcement of his name he ‘fires’ and loud fireworks explode from the stage as the crowd cheers in approval. The red spotlights make a circle through the crowd while the white spotlights pulse in tune with the music for a very dizzying effect. Just as soon as Tanner steps out onto the ramp, his entrance is interrupted by Pain – “Shut Your Mouth. Johnny Evil steps out underneath the lighting and eyes his way around the crowd, cutting completely in front of Adrian Tanner, causing Tanner to look at him in anger.
…The only thing I ever wanted
The only thing I ever needed
Is my own way, I gotta have it all…

POWERS: ” … and his partner, from Detroit Michigan, weighing in at 225 pounds, JOHHHHNNNNNNYYY EVVVVVVVVVVIIILLLLLLLLLL!!”
With a smirk, Evil looks back at Tanner and shrugs him off, beginning to walk down the ramp. Tanner walks up to him and begins to mutter some words. Johnny gives a sarcastic grin as he aims his finger down toward the ring making a makeshift gun with his pointer finger and thumb. A trademark symbolic of Tanner and that copycat Bronx.
At this point, Tanner steps in front of him. Johnny uses his shoulder to nudge him into the barricade, causing the arena to uproar in anger. One fan tosses a soda cup that hits the ramp and almost hits Evil, causing him to walk over and trash talk the guy before spitting on him. Tanner notices this a gives Johnny a shove.

…I don’t want your opinion, I don’t need your ideas
Stay the fuck out of my face, stay away from me
I am my own God, I do as I please…

VASSA: ”Look, it’s already started Johnson. These two are going to ruin this tag team match!!”
JOHNSON ”They need to get it together if they want to win those belts tonight…”
VASSA: ”That’s your boy right there… Johnny Fucking Evil!!”
JOHNSON ”Yeah, until he turned into a prick!!!”
At this point Evil laughs off Tanner’s shove, mocking him as he walks backward to the apron watching him closely before rolling into the ring. Tanner paces around for a moment and slaps hands with some of the front row before sliding into the ring. He goes to climb one of the turnbuckles, but Johnny Evil steps in the way and drops down into the corner, relaxing, causing Tanner to mumble something and walk to another corner. He climbs the turnbuckle and extends his hand out going his trademark gun pose, getting a huge pop from the audience.
“Finally Free” by Stitched up Hearts hits the PA system as the lights go dim, before gold, and pink lights begin to flash and light up the arena. The fans begin to boo as from behind the curtains come two stage hands running as they quickly toss down a red carpet.
“Can you feel me around you?
I am the blood inside your veins
You taste me, you touch me
I am the pain that takes you away
I am finally free
I’ve broken through the chains
I have no fear, I’m wide awake
You can’t take this away
I’m finally free (Wide awake)”

This is soon followed by two thrones being carried by several men with masquerade masks on. Sitting on the the thrones is none other than the tag champs themselves, Genevie Carlson and Tara Davidson. They are wearing beautiful, sparkling robes of silver and gold, their bodies completely covered as they hold their heads high.
POWERS: “Ladies and Gentlemen, Making their way to the ring at a combined weight of two hundred fifty five pounds. They are your 4CW Tag Team Champions, TAAAAAARRRAAAA DAVIDSOOOONNNN AND GENEEEEEVVVIIIEEE CAAAARRLLSSSOOON.”
The boos erupt even louder as the two look at each other and grin, laughing and talking as they get carried on their thrones the rest of the way down the ramp. The men carrying their thrones kneel down as they make it to the ring. Tara and Genevie stand up and grab each other’s hands as they are assisted onto the ring apron by their servants, who gently hold the ropes open for them.
“Can you feel me? (Can you feel me?)
Can you taste me? (Can you taste me?)
Can you breathe me? (Breathe me, breathe me)
I am the pain that takes you away”

Genevie and Tara climb into the ring and smirk as the boos keep ringing out, turning to each other before slowly undoing their robes, before ripping them open and letting them drop to the canvas. Revealing their matching attires that sparkle under the ring lights. Their 4CW tag team championships attached to their waists. As their robes are retrieved by their servants they remove the titles from their waist and go back to back raising the titles high in the air as they do so, posing arrogantly in the ring together before they hand their belts to the official and hug each other, going to their corner of the ring.
VASSA: ”This match has all the makings of an instant classic, Steve. I absolutely cannot wait for this one.”
JOHNSON: ”I couldn’t agree more, Vinny. On one hand you have the controversy surrounding the current tag team champions, with Genevie Carlson being gifted one half of the tag team championships with Jason P. Davidson out and recovering from nagging injuries.”
VASSA: ”And on the other hand you’ve got an untested tag team in Lauryn Wolfe and Bronx Valescence representing Generation Now. The only time they’ve teamed together was in a six man tag against the Royal Family which resulted in a loss, albeit under questionable circumstances.”
JOHNSON: ”You can’t forget the disfunctional tag team of the Asshole Antagonists either. At one time I thought this tandem was destined to knock Ascended Supremacy from their throne but now these two can barely stand each other.”
VASSA: ”Evil had the audacity to interrupt Tanners entrance tonight and the two have been at each others throats ever since.”
JOHNSON: ”One has to wonder if any of the chemistry they once had still exists.”
Following the lead of the commentary team the camera crew focuses on the corner of Tanner and Evil who are shouting angrily back and forth at one another inside the ring. To their right, Lauryn and Bronx observe the situation for a moment. With a glance at each other and, surely, remembrance of all the insults that Tanner had directed at Generation Now in recent weeks, the two charge across the ring in perfect synchronization. Before they get to the Asshole Antagonists, though, Tanner and Evil spin in unison and level Bronx and Lauryn with clotheslines. The two members of Generation Now are knocked flat but quickly scramble back to their feet staring the two men down. With a smirk, Tanner extends his right arm and cocks his thumb and index finger in a pistol position before mouthing the word “bang” at Lauryn Wolfe. In a flash, all hell breaks loose as Genie and Tara Launch themselves into the two challenging tag teams. Inside the ring is chaos and the fans explode in a roar of cheers, loving the intensity before the match has even begun!
VASSA: ”Laroy Jones needs to get this under control quick or there might not be anyone left to challenge for, or defend, the tag team championships.”
JOHNSON: ”Well it’s no secret that there isn’t any love lost between these six individuals.”
VASSA: ”Well, except for maybe Bronx and Genie. Wallace kids stick together, you know?”
JOHNSON: ”That’s not a real thing, Vinny. That’s just a bit.”
It takes a few minutes but after pulling Tanner and Wolfe, Tara and Bronx, and Genie and Evil apart one pair at a time and ordering them back to their corners, Laroy Jones finally regains control of the situation and issues all three teams a stern warning. He then receives the tag team championships from Genie and Tara and moves to the center of the ring, holding them high in the air, turning to each side, so that the entire arena might get a good glimpse of them before he passes them off to the timekeeper outside of the ring. After checking for any hidden foreign objects on all six competitors, he checks with the three teams to make sure they’re ready to begin. Genie, Tanner and Lauryn all start out in the ring and give Laroy Jones a quick nod letting him know they’re ready. A moment later he waves his hand in the air and the bell sounds the start of the match.

Quick back and forth action between the three, chain wrestling with each one popping up to their feet one right after the other. When all three get back to their feet at the same time, Lauryn and Genie double clotheslines Tanner over the top rope but he somehow lands on the ring apron without Wolfe and Genie noticing. He then turns, leaps, and springboards off the top rope, hooking his arm around both their necks and driving them face first down to the mat with a double bulldog.
Tanner sprints, knocks bronx off the ring apron with a stiff forearm and then charges across the ring and lowers his shoulder, driving it into Tara’s abdomen between the top and middle rope, knocking her down to the outside of the ring as well. In a flurry, Tanner spins and extends both arms with his index finger and thumb pointed at Genie and Lauryn “firing” his pistols at them before running at them as they both are back on their hands and knees, driving his left foot into the jaw of Genie and his right foot into Lauryns jaw and the crowd explodes.

VASSA: ”Tanner catching fire here early on”
JOHNSON: ”This kid has all the talent in the world. We’ll see if he has enough in him to carry his team to a victory tonight.”
VASSA: ”I’m not sure he would be carrying anyone, Johnny Evil is pretty talented himself.”
JOHNSON: ”Maybe. But he’s a prick so I don’t care.”
Tanner pops up to his feet and turns, making eye contact with Johnny Evil briefly before smirking, straightening, and extending both arms out once more, this time in his direction and this time with his middle fingers extended upward. Livid, Evil shouts back at him and then reaches out and slaps Tanners hand, tagging himself in. Quickly, Tanners expression twists to one of complete rage and he shoves Johnny. Evil fires back, shoving Tanner and the two begin shouting at each other once more. Laroy Jones gets involved, forcing Tanner to his corner and out of the ring.
As he does so, Genie sees the advantage and quickly low blows Johnny Evil, rolling him up. The outraged cry of the crowd draws the referee’s attention back to the action. Seeing Genie with Evil rolled up, he slides into make the count. As he does so he doesn’t notice Genie hooking the tights of Evil.


At the last second Lauryn Wolfe comes crashing down across Genie’s back, breaking up the pin. Wolfe gets the advantage, focusing on Genie and isolating her over into the corner where Bronx had returned to the apron. Across from him, Tara has returned to her corner while Tanner is busy shouting at Evil, blaming him for the sudden loss of momentum. After planting a few stomps to the stomach of Genevie, Lauryn tags her partner, Bronx, into the match and, together, they pull Genie out of the corner and execute a double snap suplex. Tanner reaches out for Evil to tag him in as he’s getting back to his feet but Evil waves him off, much to Tanners dismay.
VASSA: ”If you ask me, though, it doesn’t matter how much talent the two have if they can’t figure out how to stop pissing each other off.”
JOHNSON: ”That’s what arrogant pricks do, though. They think they can win everything without anyone’s help.”
VASSA: ”I’m not sure that’s what is happening with Evil right now, Steve.”
JOHNSON: ”Maybe not. But he’s a prick and the rest doesn’t matter.”
Evil turns in time to catch Bronx changing his attention to him and the two begin trade blows back and forth. This buys Genie the time to tag Tara in who comes in in a whirlwhind, hopping over the top rope and charging across the ring. Evil turns and catches a spinning heel kick. Bronx wraps his arms around Tara and lifts her up into the air but Tara counters and drops back down to the mat, bringing Bronx down face first with a cutter. She quickly goes the cover.

Tanner dives in across the ring, breaking up the pinfall attempt by Tara on Bronx. Evil grabs Tara and deposits her into a corner and then the two asshole antagonists set their sights on Bronx. Tanner whips him into the ropes as Evil quickly positions himself. When Bronx rebounds, Tanner lifts him up into the air, falling backwards and expecting Evil to finish off the double team move with a cutter of his own but nobody is home. Astutely, Lauryn sees the maneuver unfolding and climbs to the top rope, leaping off of it and taking Evil out with a diving cross body. Tanner returns to his feet but is immediately knocked down with a drop kick from Lauryn as well before she’s finally forced to exit the ring once more.
Seizing the opportunity, Tara moves out of the corner and grabs Evil by his hair, pulling him back to his feet while Laroy Jones helps Tanner back out of the ring. She then proceeds to deliver kick after kick to his stomach before he falls down to a seated position in the corner. Once there, Tara places her boot directly against Johnny’s throat, cutting off his air supply. The referee, having returned his attention to the match, is quick to move and begin a five count, reaching for before Tara finally breaks away. As she does so she bullies the referee back into the opposite corner, blocking his view of the seated Tanner. Genie quickly drops down off the ring apron and wraps her arms around Evils head, her fingernails clawing into the flesh of his face and digging into his eyes.
Tanner, not wanting to put up with any nonsense, drops down off the ring apron himself and charges around the ring. As he turns the corner and sets Genie in his sights, the Princess of 4CW recognizes the peril that she’s in and releases the illegal maneuver, taking off away from her assailant. Yet, as she does so, Lauryn Wolfe hops down off of the apron on her own side and halts Genie in her tracks, waving her finger no. A bit nervously, Genie looks back and forth between Lauryn and Tanner, who pulled up to a stop quickly himself. Just as the two are about to attack Genie, the Princess dips out and rolls into the ring, leaving Tanner and Lauryn to collide awkwardly while Genie sprints across the ring. Wolfe and Tanner hesitate briefly before Tanner slides into the ring first with Lauryn quickly behind him.
Making her escape, Genie slides out of the opposite side of the ring just as Tara lets the referee free. Tanner ducks past Tara and slides out, continuing to chase Genie, but Lauryn catches a nasty superkick to the jaw that echoes throughout the arena and drops her like a sack of potatoes in the center of the ring. In the midst of all the commotion, Laroy Jones spots Tanner outside of the ring just as Genie glides back up onto the ring apron in her appropriate corner and shouts at him. Furious at the warning by the referee, Tanner waves his arms in exaggerated motions, pointing
and pleading his case but eventually giving up after realizing it was falling on deaf ears.
Meanwhile, in the ring, the crack of Lauryn Wolfe’s jaw being connected with by Tara’s boot seems to snap him out of his haze and bring him back to reality. Pulling himself back up, Evil dashes across the ring and catches Tara with LETHAL INJECTION, a straight jacket backstabber that leaves her writhing in pain. As he gets back to his feet, Bronx pops out of the corner and wraps his arms around Evil’s waist, rushing him forward into the corner before rolling out of it, holding onto Evil and dragging him with him before finishing off FOR ANA, with a bridging german suplex. Turning back to the action, Laroy Jones slides in and counts.


As Evil kicks out, all three competitors remain down in the ring, recovering from the fast paced and hard hitting action that had characterized the entirety of the match up to that point. In each teams corner Tanner, Lauryn and Genie were stretching out their hands for their partners to tag them in as each crawled, rolled and clawed in the direction of their counterpart. Tara dives across the ring and tags in Genie, who dips under the ropes as Bronx pushes himself up to his hands and knees. Before he can reach Lauryn, Genie sprints across the ring and leaps in the air, placing her boot on the back of Bronx’s head, driving him face first down into the mat with the STILETTO KISS!
As Bronx’s face bounces off the mat, Genie drops and covers just as Evil reaches Tanner and tags him into the match. Before Laroy Jones can even drop to his knee to count the pinfall attempt, Tanner is in the ring and grabs Genie by her hair, spinning around before launching her out of the ring between the top and middle ropes, sending her crashing to the outside and slamming into the barrier violently. With a smirk, Tanner pulls the extremely dazed Bronx up onto wobbly legs before sending him sprinting across the ring into the empty corner where he slams into the corner, bounces up into the air and then slams back down to the mat into a seated position in the corner. Without hesitation, Tanner turns and drives his forearm into Lauryn’s face, knocking her down off the ring apron before kneeling to pick up Bronx’s sunglasses. With a smirk he slides them onto his face before making his double finger pistols at Bronx as he leans back against the turnbuckle pads, firing his finger pistols a half second before he dashes across the ring. Poor Bronxy, he took the 324 hour flight to Boston and all he got was this lousy BOOT TO THE FACE! The impact of the hesitation dropkick twists Bronx’s head viciously to the right. As Tanner stands he takes the sunglasses off and tosses them into the crowd.

VASSA: ”Evil and Tanner are putting their experience as a tag team on display right now but this match is still anyone’s to take”
JOHNSON: ”It is but Bronx is in bad shape, having taken the brunt of two major attacks from Genevie Carlson and Adrian Tanner Junior. One has to wonder if he’ll be able to find his footing again or if this is going to be up to Lauryn Wolfe to find a way to carry her team to victory.”
Pushing herself back up to her feet outside of the ring, Genie glares at Tanner as he drags Bronx’s body out of the corner. She’s quick to slide in the ring and immediately targets the back of Tanners knee, dropping her shoulder to it as both he and Bronx tumble down to the mat. With spider-like movement, Genie wraps her legs around Tanners knee that she had just targeted and torques it in a direction that a human leg clearly is not supposed to bend. In pain, Tanner howls out. Referee Laroy Jones kneels down beside Tanner to ask him if he wants to submit, but he shakes his head no. Both Evil and Lauryn watch on nervously, trying to decide when to step in and break the hold up.
Lauryn hesitates a further moment because Bronx has pushed himself back up to his hands and knees again and is crawling in her direction, much to the delight of the crowd. Genie wrenches on the hold further and Evil begins to step through the ropes only to be caught by Tara, who had dropped down off the apron and ran around to his side of the ring, catching his leg at the absolute last moment. Evil twists awkwardly, trying to escape the grip of Tara Davidson while Tanner raises his hand in the air, trying to fight out of the submission hold but being unable to get any leverage to move.

VASSA: ”Oh my god.. I think Tanner is about to tap.”
JOHNSON: ”Bronx is a porn stars pubic hair away from making the tag. Tanner only needs to hold out for another moment or two!”
The slap of Bronx’s hand against Lauryn’s echoes around the arena and she tears in through the ropes. Tanners hand descends towards the mat but half a breath before his hand makes contact with the mat, Lauryn’s body slams into Genie’s breaking the hold and putting an end to the intense pain that he had just been subjected to. In his corner, Evil spins and places his boot in Tara’s chest, shoving him away from her before quickly turning back to see what was happening in the ring. A brief flash of relief overtook his face as the realization that Tanner had esaped the submission hold washed over him.
VASSA: ”What a save!”
JOHNSON: ”A half second later and this match is over with Tanner tapping out to a modified leg lock from the Princess herself.”
Seemingly on fire, Lauryn bounces back up to her feet and waits for Genie to climb back to her own vertical base before being leveled by the trigger queen with an axe handle across her opponents ample bosom. If ever there was a tag team that should have taken on the acronym T&A it was Genie and Tara, not those other freaks from the company that shall not be named. A bit more slowly this time Genie climbs back to her feet. As she does so Lauryn Wolfe meets her with BLOOD IN THE AIR, a running single knee strike that sends Genie tumbling backwards and falling down to her stopping place, laying underneath the bottom rope right on the ring apron.
Feeling the momentum, Lauryn spins in the ring and lets out a loud howl like a wolf’s. As she does so, Tanner stammers back to his feet uneasily. He manages to duck under a nasty right hand intended for his jaw from Lauryn, instead grabbing hold of her wrist. As he does so he moves to whip her into the ropes, with Johnny Evil positioning himself for something nefarious. At the last moment, Lauryn reverses the irish whip and sends Tanner into the ropes where the unsuspecting Johnny Evil accidently plants his knee directly into his tag team partners back.

VASSA: ”Evil just nailed Tanner in the back with a nasty knee!”
JOHNSON: ”It was unintentional, though. Is this the breaking point for these two? They’ve been at each others throats since before this match started but have found a way to work together up to this point.”
VASSA: ”Yeah but that look in Tanners eye right now screams a desire to kill Johnny Evil.”
JOHNSON: ”Watch out!”
In the middle of another disagreement between Tanner and Evil, Lauryn senses opportunity. She charges across the ring and dropkicks Adrian squarely in the back, sending him flying into Johnny Evil where their skulls collide. Evil tumbles down to the floor, clutching his head, and Tanner drops to the mat as well. Quite pleased with herself, Lauryn cracks her knuckles, waiting patiently for Tanner to begin to work his way back to a standing position. Seemingly, however, she has forgotten that she has another opponent in the ring with her.
Back on her feet, Genie attacks Lauryn from behind and Tara moves to enter the ring to help her partner out but Bronx, having left his own corner, grabs a hold of Tara’s leg and refuses to let her in. Irritated, Tara spins and leaps off into the arms of Bronx who catches her, winks and blows her a kiss, and then drops her to the ground where the two proceed to brawl outside of the ring with one another, exchanging rights and lefts with neither gaining full advantage over the other.
Inside the ring, Lauryn and Genie continue their own brawl with Genie showcasing her brawling ability standing toe to toe with the self proclaimed hardest hitter in 4CW. Eventually, however, Lauryn gains the advantage and backs Genie up, nailing her with one final right hand that sends her to the ring aprong. Wolfe takes a moment to look over and spot her partner, calling out to him to position Tara. Bronx gives a slight nod of his head and positions Tara appropriately before Lauryn leaps and lands a drop kick to Genie’s chest, sending her tumbling off the ring apron and into her tag team partner, the Red Queen herself.
Not slowing down, Bronx slides back into the ring and motions to Lauryn to climb the near turnbuckle. Nodding in agreement, Lauryn listens as Bronx takes off towards the opposite ropes and rebounds, sprinting at full speed toward the set of ropes in front of him. A moment before he reaches them, Bronx leaps into the air. Simultaneously, Lauryn leaps from the near turnbuckle and the two Generation Now tag team members crash down into the two Royal Family tag team members.

JOHNSON: ”I think all four of them might be dead!”
The crowd is buzzing with excitement just as the two Asshole Antagonist members make their way back to standing positions in the ring, rubbing their heads and trying to clear the cobwebs. For a brief moment the two engage in their previous argument once again before realizing that they’re the only two who are in the ring at that very moment. Confused, the duo look around for their opponents and spot the carnage outside of the ring. For a long moment the two then share a look before hitting the opposite ropes in unison and sprinting across the ring, leaping and diving into the mass of bodies with double suicide dives. As all six competitors in the tag team championship match lay in a heap of half broken bodies, the fans in TD arena absolutely lose their minds.

VASSA: ”Holy shit indeed.”
JOHNSON: ”I think all SIX of them might be dead!”
VASSA: ”Does anyone even know who the legal men and women are anymore?”
JOHNSON: ”I don’t know Vinny! Jesus Christ. It’s carnage out here folks. I can’t even begin to describe what we’re witnessing.”
VASSA: ”And they said the tag team division was dead.”
JOHNSON: ”Judging by what we’re witnessing, it absolutely is not.”
Slowly, Generation Now and the Asshole Antagonists work their way back to their feet as Genie and Tara take a bit more time to themselves to try and recover. As the two teams reach a standing position they begin trading strikes with one another. Over the course of thirty seconds, Evil and Tanner once again gain the advantage, taking Lauryn and Bronx and sliding rolling them back into the ring together where the Generation Now team once more begins working their way up to their feet. In the meantime, Evil and Tanner turn and deliver simultaneous kicks to the sternums of Genie and Tara before hopping back up onto the ring apron where they’re met with simultaneous clubbing blows from Bronx and Lauryn.
In perfect synchronization, as Bronx and Lauryn look to strike Evil and Tanner once more, the Asshole Antagonists block the punches and then deliver dual headbutts, stumbling Bronx and Lauryn backwards into the ring. Finding that perfect unison and chemistry, Tanner and Evil leap into the air and springboard off the top rope. As they fly in the direction of Generation Now, they flip and hook the heads of their opponents bringing them down to the mat with springboard blockbusters IN STEREO!

VASSA: ”Right back on a roll the Asshole Antagonists go.”
JOHNSON: ”The two can’t stand each other and somehow they’re making it work.”
Unable to remember who it was that had been the legal man, Tanner and Evil scramble to cover both opponents. Tanner dives across the chest of Bronx and hooks his leg while Johnny Evil drops down and covers Lauryn Wolfe, hooking her leg instead. Referee Laroy Jones stares at the scene before him for a brief moment, seemingly running the events of the match through in his head before waving the pinfall attempts off. He points to Tanner as being the legal man and then points to Lauryn, whom Johnny Evil was covering, as being Generation Now’s legal competitor. Evil slams his hands down on the mat in frustration as Tanner quickly crawls over to cover Lauryn. Before counting, Jones motions to Evil to exit the ring and then drops down to count the pinfall attempt.

In unison, Genie and Tara slide back into the ring with Genie crashing down across the back of Tanner at the last possible moment. Meanwhile, Tara moves and grabs the unexpecting Johnny Evil by the back of his wrestling trunks and then launches him head first between the top and bottom turnbuckle pads. With a resounding thud, Evil slides through on the middle turnbuckle and his right shoulder crashes into the steel ring post. The sound of the impact makes such a sickening noise that even the fans, who have been adamantly against Johnny Evil the entire match, cringe and groan in sympathy.
With full control of the match back on their side, Genie shoves Bronx over to his corner with her foot before turning her attention to Lauryn Wolfe who is still doing everything she can simply to find her bearings. As Tara exits the ring, Genie whips Lauryn into their corner and then charges, lowering her shoulder and ramming it into the abdomen of Wolfe. She then quickly tags Tara in, who leaps over the top rope, as Genie ducks out of the ring, and places her boot squarely against Lauryns throat, running the tips of her finger down the bronze skin of her leg to tease the fans in the front row while Wolfe’s face turns beat red. When Laroy Jones finally forces her to break the hold, Tara backs off for only a moment before stepping back in and driving her knee into Lauryn’s stomach.

VASSA: ”Just when we think the Asshole Antagonists have full control of the match, here comes the Royal Family showing their resiliency.”
JOHNSON: ”These two women might not have tagged together in this sort of environment before, but they have clear chemistry and enjoy working together.”
VASSA: ”And now that dedication and devotion to teamwork is beginning to pay off.”
JOHNSON: ”Look how well they’ve isolated Lauryn Wolfe while Tanner lays motionless, recovering from the brutal blow to the back of his head from Genie.”
VASSA: ”Exactly, and they’re tagging in and out quickly, not showing any of the selfishness that we typically think characterizes the Royal Family.”
Motioning her partner to enter the ring, Genie steps through the ropes as Tara drags Lauryn out of the corner. The two quickly whip Lauryn into the opposite set of ropes. When she returns the Royal Family members grab her at the same time and toss her up into the air before stepping away, leaving Lauryn with no other option but to come falling straight back down to earth, face first, colliding with the mat. As Lauryn pushes herself back up to her feet, Tara lines Lauryn up and drills her with THE GOODNIGHT KISS, a scissor kick that flattens Lauryn face first. Genie backs up to the ropes and bounces off them, running at Lauryn immediately after and connecting on a second STILETTO KISS, of the evening, just as Lauryn was starting to push herself back up again.
VASSA: ”Goddamnit Lauryn has to be sick of feeling that finishing maneuver of Genie’s. How many times has she it Lauryn with it in the last six months?”
JOHNSON: ”Too many to count at this point.”
The sound of hands slapping is missed by the Royal Family pair but Laroy Jones catches it as Tanner tags Johnny Evil in. In the meantime, Jones forces Genie back to her corner and out of the ring as Evil ducks through the ropes, grabs Tara by the arm and spins her around, catching her with a quick kick in the stomach. He then hoists her up onto his shoulders in a powerbomb position. As he drops her down he executes the FALL FROM SHANGRI’ LA, positioning Tara perfectly to drive his knees directly into her plump ass rather than into the small of her back where the move would usually connect. As he goes for the cover, Genie steps through the ropes and goes to breakup the pinfall attempt. From the opposite side of the ring, Tanner steps through and spears Genie, preventing her from breaking up the pinfall attempt but sending them both awkwardly to the mat, preventing any count from happening.
In the midst of all of this, somehow, Lauryn Wolfe has managed to drag herself over to her corner where she reaches up and tags a desperate Bronx who sees an opportunity. As soon as the tag is made he leaps over the top rope and ducks under and clothesline attempt from Johnny Evil. Rebounding off the ropes, Bronx picks up speed as Johnny Evil spins and bends over, telegraphing a back body drop. Seizing the moment, Bronx connects with VALESCENCE’S VICTORY, a running front flip ddt. With all the momentum in the world, Bronx bounces back up to his feet and looks to his corner where his sunglasses should have been. Not seeing them, a moment of panic flashes across his face before he says screw it and takes to the nearby corner, climbing to the top rope. With Tara lined up, still writhing from the finishing maneuver Johnny Evil had executed on her. Taking a deep breath, Bronx closes his eyes and then raises his hands in two circles, placing them over his eyes to make his own mock set of glasses before diving from the top rope trying to connect with TRUE LIGHT’S FLIGHT!

VASSA: ”He’s going for it!”
JOHNSON: ”True Lights Flight AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

Maybe it was not having the glasses that screwed things up but Bronx’s aim was just a hair off and he’s left to crash to the mat awkwardly. One at a time, those in the ring begin to get back to their feet. Tara, rolling back up but clearly in pain, drags Lauryn, who had yet to get out of the ring, back up to her feet and over into the corner. There, Tara hoists her up to the top rope. She then climbs up to the top rope herself, hooking her arm around Lauryn’s neck in search of a superplex. As she does so, Bronx finds a second wind and pushes himself up, dashing over to the corner and stepping up to the middle rope, putting Tara’s weight onto his shoulders. A moment later, Tanner shakes the cobwebs free of his own head positions himself so that Bronx’s weight is on his shoulders.
For a moment the crowd watches warily and then gasps as the tower of people tips backwards, with Tara holding on to Lauryn and bringing her overhead. All four competitors slam down to the mat as the crowd once more is left chanting.


VASSA: ”It’s carnage here in the ring once again!”
JOHNSON: ”I’m at a loss for words, Vinny. An absolute loss for words.”
With a mass of bodies down in the ring, Adrian Tanner Junior backs up and spots Bronx struggling back to his feet slowly. Looking to connect with the Revolver, Tanner once more pulls out his finger pistols and points them in the direction of his opponent. Before Tanner can do anything, though, Genie cries to the referee that Tanner isn’t the legal man and Jones steps in quickly, ordering Tanner out of the ring. Genie and Tanner, from their own corners, plead with both of their partners to crawl to them and make the tag. Slowly, Evil and Tara work their way to their corners and at the same time tag their partners in.
Paying little attention to Genie, Tanner looks to take Bronx’s head off with a superkick just as he gets back to his feet but Bronxy manages to duck out of the way. For Genie, it’s the absolute wrong moment as she’s left to be crushed with a superkick from Adrian Tanner Junior that flattens her instantly. Looking around, Tanner backs up to his own corner and sets his sights on Bronx again, who is down on one knee and pushing himself up to a wobbly standing position. Just as Tanner is about to move to hit the REVOLVER, Johnny Evil tags himself into the match and sprints into the ring, kicking Bronx in the stomach and then blasting him with FALL FROM SHANGRI’ LA.
To Tanners dismay and irritation, there’s nothing he can do but step back out through the ropes and watch as Johnny Evil rolls Bronx over and hooks his leg.

JOHNSON: ”Nobody else is moving. Everyone but Tanner and Evil are down and out!”


VASSA: ”Holy shit they’ve done the impossible!”
JOHNSON: ”Adrian Tanner Junior and Johnny Evil, the Asshole Antagonists, are the tag team champions. They’ve finally completed a journey that started, seemingly, at Bad Company Two!”
Inside the ring it’s complete carnage. Tanner steps back through the ropes to celebrate with his partner but his legs give out on him and he drops to both knees, exhausted. Evil doesn’t push himself off of Bronx, but rather simply rolls himself over onto his back and holds both hands in the air victoriously. As the two men lay there, with the wreckage of human bodies around them, Laroy Jones retrieves the tag team championships from the timekeeper where he drapes one across the chest of Johnny Evil and places the other in the hands of Adrian Tanner Junior as Mike Powers announces the decision.
VASSA: ”I’ll be honest with you, Steve. I’m not sure the main event can top what we’ve just seen.”
JOHNSON: ”I’m not sure either but if anything is going to it’s going to be a caged ladder match for the 4CW Championship.”
VASSA: ”Yeah, yeah. We’ll get to that in a moment. But let’s talk about what we just witnessed.”
JOHNSON: ”What we just witnessed, Vinny, was possibly the greatest tag team match this company has ever seen. There were multiple times that I thought Generation Now was going to walk out with the win. And there were multiple times I thought that the Royal Family was going to retain.”
VASSA: ”And yet here we are, with new tag team champions. Johnny Evil and Adrian Tanner Jr. Two men who can’t even stand the sight of each other.”
JOHNSON: ”Championship gold fixes all the problems in the world, Vinny. And there’s still a chance we could see another title change hands here in just a few short minutes.”
VASSA: ”Maybe, but let’s take a deep breath and get a word from one of our wonderful sponsors before we even begin thinking about that.”
JOHNSON: ”What a night we’ve had so far. I’m not sure my heart can take another match like that one.”
VASSA: ”We’ll be right back, folks.”

We cut to the backstage area, we see most of Generation Now standing in the backstage area. Everyone looks tired, Bronx leans against the wall as he still tries to catch his breath from the tag match. Lauryn looks disappointed, while Sativa tends to her wounds from earlier. Manny is looking down at the ground, the mood is very somber. Bryan Williams walks into frame, looking ready for his upcoming match. His Pride championship is resting on his right shoulder, pressed into his leather jacket.
Bryan says nothing, looking at his stablemates as he approaches them. They say nothing back, the room is tense. For a moment, Bronx looks like he’s going to speak up, but Bryan raises a hand out. He wants him to wait, because Bryan has something to say.
WILLIAMS: “I know you’re all tired, and ready to get out of here. I know you’re disappointed, things didn’t go your way tonight. Hell, things might not go my way either. I want you all to know that I’m still proud of you all, no matter what.”
There seems to be a bit of confusion amongst the group, but Bryan continues to speak.
WILLIAMS: “This was never about glory chasing, grabbing all of the titles to be the top group in this company. This was about you guys, and getting your shots right now. This was about showing everyone what you’re all capable of when you step out into that ring. This was a platform for you all to showcase yourselves, regardless if you win or lose. I’m glad to be apart of this team, and I’m glad you guys continue to work for it.”
Bryan pats Bronx on the shoulder, as he’s the closest to him. Lauryn and Sativa both nod their heads, as Manny listens on.
WILLIAMS: “You all fought hard tonight, you went out there and left everything you had in the ring. That’s exactly what I was looking from each and every one of you. Tonight not may be our night, but we’re getting better. You have no reason to hang your heads in shame, because you’re working hard. You’re taking your opportunities now. So fight for another day, fight for another shot. You guys do that, and I’ll keep fighting for you. Now what do you say we go out there and end this show on a good note?”
A collective agreement, and an assortment of high fives as the group comes together to stray away from the clutches of defeat. In an instant they all start to hype each other up, as Bryan’s match looms. Sativa, Manny, and Lauryn all leave the area, heading to a spot backstage where they can view the upcoming match. Bryan watches them all go, as Bronx stays back.
VALESCENCE: “You really think all of that, Bryan?”
Bryan pauses for a moment, pondering the question before him. It takes him a few moments, but Bryan slowly nods his head.
WILLIAMS: “Can’t have you guys in a bummed state before I head out there, I need you guys to have my back.”
Bronx thinks for a moment, and chuckles.
VALESCENCE: “Wouldn’t have mattered, we got your back either way.”
WILLIAMS: “I know that, but it’ll be better for you guys to be in a upbeat mood once I beat this fool. I’m getting my title back, and I’m ending this night on a high note for us all.”
Bronx nods, smiling.
VALESCENCE: “I hope you will.”
Bryan gives him a nod, and turns around to walk away. Before he can though, Bronx reaches out and grabs his shoulder. Confused, Bryan turns around to see what Bronx wants. There’s an odd mood in the air now, a serious look falling over Bronx’s face. He stares at Bryan for a moment, the two not speaking.
The tension continues to build, until Bronx finally breaks the silence.
VALESCENCE: “If you win tonight, you are buying dinner for all of us after the show…right?”
Bryan shakes his head, laughing. He turns around, walking towards the gorilla position to get ready for his match. Before he’s completely out of frame he shouts something out.
WILLIAMS: “There is no IF, my friend!”
The camera stays with Bronx, as he watches on. Bryan leaves the frame, leaving Bronx as the only member left in the hallway.
VALESCENCE: “Better take us all to Outback, I’m starving.”




POWERS: “Ladies and gentlemen, the following Pride Championship contest is scheduled for two out of three falls, one being a pinfall and the other a submission!”
The sound of a pipe organ begins to fill the arena as the crowd rises to its feet with 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. The 4CW Pride Championship can be seen shining brightly around his waist. 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 forty-one pounds! He is ‘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: “Just two weeks ago we watched as Matthias stole the Pride Championship from Bryan Williams and now here he is, pretending to already be the champion.”
VASSA: “He took the money and ran, but tonight he’ll have to officially win it to be declared the Pride Champion.”
JOHNSON: “And if he doesn’t, I’m sure he’ll still carry around that made up belt of his he’s so proud of.”
VASSA: “Maybe not. Matthias said not too long ago that if he lost here tonight, he would personally put the belt around Williams’ waist and then walk away from wrestling all together.”
JOHNSON: “But will be actually do it? There isn’t a stipulation that says he has to quit wrestling if things don’t go his way tonight.”
VASSA: “A man is only as good as his word so I guess we’ll just have to wait and see if he’ll stand by his.”
JOHNSON: “It’s going to be a tough one for Bryan. Up until two weeks ago, Matthias was still unpinned and unsubmitted in 4CW, despite losses against his record.”
VASSA: “He damn sure liked to brag about it didn’t he?”
JOHNSON: “He still hasn’t submitted yet, but given the stipulation of this match, he could tonight.”
VASSA: “Two out of three falls and one must be a pin while the other must be a submission. This is a tough match no matter how you look at it.”
JOHNSON: “Although Matthias isn’t technically the Pride Champion even though he has the belt right now, he has a lot at stake here tonight.”
“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.
POWERS: “And the opponent!”
Strobes going along to the beat of the song. Bryan walks out from the back, head held down low. The song continues to play, as Bryan stands on the top of the ramp. With his head down, Bryan holds up his right hand and extends his pointer finger. He holds it up momentarily, eventually beginning to walk down to the ring as the song continues.
POWERS: Coming to the ring from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at two hundred ten pounds and standing six feet, two inches tall! He is “Leviathan” and the 4CW Pride Champion, BRYAN WWIILLLLIIAAMMSS!!!”
Bryan makes his way to the ring, walking at a brisk pace towards the ring. He doesn’t waste much time getting into the ring, walking up the steel steps and climbing in through the top and middle rope. With a serious look on his face, Bryan stands in the ring with his eyes locked on Matthias and his Pride Championship.
VASSA: “The hometown kid is here folks!”
JOHNSON: “If the stage wasn’t big enough being a pay-per-view with the Pride Championship on the line, the stakes are higher for Bryan as well as this match will take place in his hometown of Boston.”
VASSA: “Fans always love to pull for the local and Bryan has the support of them all here tonight.”
JOHNSON: “He’s been through quite a bit as the Pride Championship. After a long fought battle with Cashe, he was able to win it back in October. Then he had his first defense at Winter Wasteland in December again a trio of deadly opponent.”
VASSA: “Not one, not two, nor three, but–wait a second. Three! At Winter Wasteland he was able to retain in a submission elimination match against Cashe again, but also Genevie Carlson and Persephone Marquis.”
JOHNSON: “That isn’t an easy lineup for anyone, I don’t care who you are. He was pushed to the limit and prevailed in his first defense.”
VASSA: “Tonight he only has one opponent, the man who stole his belt and made him look like a fool two weeks ago.”
JOHNSON: “There’s a lot of emotion going into this match for both wrestlers. Bryan has to reclaim what is his while Matthias finally gets an opportunity that was taken away from him three previous times in other promotions.”
VASSA: “I know the main event is big but this match very well could be even bigger!”
JOHNSON: “There’s the official taking the belt from Matthias. I think we’re just about ready to start.”
With the belt in hand, the official backs away from Matthias until stopping in the center of the ring. Raising it high above his head, he turns to each side of the ring, presenting it to the fans in attendance. The official then walks to the ropes and hands the championship to a member of the ringside crew before returning to the ring. Checking in with both corners, the official gets the signal from Barrows and Williams. With both men ready to rock and roll, the official wastes no time as he quickly calls for the bell.

Leaving their corners, the two approach each other until standing with just a foot in between them. Both men, light on their feet, begin circling the center of the ring with their guard up as the stare across at one another. Shooting in, the two lock up in a test of strength. Pulling Williams in, Barrows lifts his knee up and drives it into Williams’ stomach, knocking the breath away from him. Wrapping his arm around Bryan’s head, Barrows pulls him down to a side headlock. Before he can get the headlock fully applied, Bryan pushes him away, ripping his head out from Barrows’ arm and sending him running to the ropes.
Coming back on the rebound, Barrows charges Bryan who preps himself. Not backing down, Bryan leans his shoulder into Barrows, but gets put flat on his back with a running shoulder block. Slapping the canvas, Bryan pushes himself back up as Barrows turns to the adjacent ropes and takes off. As Barrows hits the ropes again, Bryan readies himself and as he comes back on the rebound, Bryan leans his shoulder forward into Barrows, but gets knocked down a second time with another running shoulder block.
Frustrated, Bryan slams his fist onto the mat before using it to push himself back up. Chuckling at the sight, Barrows stands in place with his eyes locked on Bryan. Throwing both hands forward, Bryan slaps him across the chest, pushing him back a step as the weight transfers to Barrows. Returning the favor, Barrows then pushes Bryan back, even further than Bryan had pushes him. The two mouth off for a moment before Barrows turns to the ropes and takes off of them, erupting from his stand still position. Bouncing off the ropes, Barrows charges in and drops his shoulder slightly, leaning it forward for another running shoulder block. Dropping down to one knee, Bryan lifts Matthias into the air in a fireman’s carry position. Popping back to his feet, Bryan then drops him with a neckbreaker.

VASSA: “Well isn’t that just lovely.”
JOHNSON: “What’s that?”
VASSA: “The way Bryan just swept Matthias off his feet.”
JOHNSON: “You have problems. You know that, right?”
VASSA: “Don’t we all!”
Rolling over to his stomach, Bryan pushes himself up to all fours before crawling over Matthias who has rolled over to his stomach as well. Standing tall, Bryan then begins stomping on Barrows’ back right between his shoulder blades. Stepping over to the side of Matthias, Bryan then drops down and plants his elbow directly in the same spot, hitting him with a standing elbow drop. Grabbing onto Matthias’ head, Bryan then pulls him up as he stands to his feet. Spinning Barrows around, Williams then kicks his foot up and goes straight for the gut.
JOHNSON: “Wait a second!”
Holding Bryan’s foot, Barrows then pulls him in and levels him with a clothesline, even dropping down to his knees in the process. Brushing the hair from out of his face, Barrows stands back up before moving down to Bryan’s feet. Lifting his foot into the air, Barrows elevates Bryan’s leg before kicking him back to back times in the back of the knee. Still with his foot held, Matthias spins to his side before dropping down with a leg drop to the inside of Bryan’s knee. With his leg over Bryan’s knee, Matthias then pulls his foot upward, applying pressure to Bryan’s awkwardly bend knee.
Fighting through the pain, Bryan grunts and groans as Matthias continues working his knee. After a few moments, Matthias then slams Bryan’s ankle to the mat before popping back to his feet. Pulling Bryan to his feet, Matthias quickly wraps him up before lifting him into the air and slamming him down onto his knee with an atomic drop. Bryan’s body straightens and goes stiff as he stands in place. Stepping in beside him, Matthias then grabs ahold of him and falls back, dropping Bryan to the mat with a Russian leg sweep. Back to his feet in a hurry, Matthias then turns to the ropes and takes off in their direction. Coming back on the rebound with speed, Matthias then leaps into the air as high as he can. Soaring across the ring, Matthias then comes down onto Bryan’s knee with a knee drop, rolling over and up to his feet in one fluid motion.

VASSA: “Matthias is really targeting that knee of Bryan’s.”
JOHNSON: “It’s no secret that knee has given him trouble in the past. Good move on Matthias’ part.”
VASSA: “In order to win tonight there must be at least one submission to do so.”
JOHNSON: “Matthias is on the right track!”
Pulling Bryan up to his feet, Matthias folds his leg, hooking his hands together underneath his ankle before lifting Williams into the air and dropping the same knee across his. Bryan pops up and quickly takes the weight off of his leg, standing on one feet. Turning to the ropes, Matthias takes off once again and as he comes back on the return, he wipes Bryan out with a running clothesline. Looking to the corner, Matthias rushes over and quickly ascends to the top. Once standing above everything else, he leaps into the air and soars like a bird. As gravity takes hold, he descends with a flying elbow from across Bryan’s chest. Hooking Bryan’s leg, Matthias makes the cover as the official races in with the count.
JOHNSON: “The Atomic Bong Rip!”

JOHNSON: “Bryan was able to kick out just in the niche of time.”
Stunned at the kickout, Matthias has to do a double take before he finally accepts it as reality. Arguing with the official, Matthias stands to his feet and backs him up against the ropes. As the two argue back and forth, Bryan slowly gets to his feet. Ignoring everything behind him, Barrows continues arguing his case that the officials count was slow. Meanwhile, Bryan limps in behind Matthias and clocks him in the back of the head with a solid forearm shot. He then spins Barrows around and plants his foot in his gut, forcing him to buckle over from the impact. Stepping in closer, Bryan wraps his arms around Matthias and pulls him upright.
Out of nowhere, Barrows then slams his elbow into the side of Bryan’s ear, forcing him to let go of the hold. Matthias then grabs onto Bryan and pulls him down, rolling him up with a small package. With one leg hooked behind Bryan’s knee, Matthias props his other foot onto the bottom rope out of the officials sight as the count begins.


Before the official can even notice, Barrows quickly pulls his foot away from the ropes as Bryan finally manages to kick out.

VASSA: “Oh, you cheating son of a bitch!”
JOHNSON: “Matthias scored the first fall here via pin but it wasn’t clean by any means.”
VASSA: “Lucky for him the official didn’t see it. He won’t be so lucky if he tries it with a submission though.”
JOHNSON: “I don’t know, anything is possible.”
Back on his feet, Barrows struts around the ring with cockiness as the first fall appears to be going to his head. Complaining to the official about the illegal pin, Bryan pleads his case but gets nowhere as it was out of sight, therefor not happening in the eyes of the official. Shaking his head in displeasure, Bryan turns his back to the official and looks across the ring at Barrows who seems to be celebrating a tad too early. Limping across the ring, Bryan sneaks in behind Barrows and smacks him across the back of the head. Instantly, Barrows turns around in anger as the two lock eyes and then begin to argue back and forth about the illegal pin.
JOHNSON: “Bryan isn’t happy about the illegal pin.”
VASSA: “Would you be happy about it? It was lowdown and dirty.”
JOHNSON: “Arguing about it now isn’t going to change what happened. The pinfall has already been counted. Move on!”
Growing tired of Bryan’s arguing, Matthias slaps him across the face, causing the entire arena’s jaws to drop at the sight. The slap sends Bryan’s head whipping to the side before he slowly reaches up and rubs his face where Matthias’ hand left an outline. Bryan then fires back but instead of a slap, he clocks Matthias in the jaw with a stiff right hand. Matthias falls back against the ropes and bounces forward into Bryan’s arms. Lifting Barrows into the air, Bryan then throws him over his head with an overhead belly to belly suplex. Slamming against the mat, Barrows rolls up to a seated position, reaching around and holding his lower back with his hand.
Standing up, Bryan looks across the ring before limping over and as he gets within range, he kicks his foot forward, planting it into Barrows’ back. Limping past Barrows, Bryan picks up the pace into a slow job before hitting the ropes. As he returns in stride, he drops down and bursts forward, hitting Barrows with a clothesline across the chest. With Barrows on his back, Bryan begins hitting him in the side of the neck with forearm shots over and over. He then pulls Barrows up to his feet as he stands.
Pushing forward, Barrows knocks Bryan backwards, creating just enough space between them to give himself an opening. Lunging forward, Barrows goes for a clothesline but misses as Bryan ducks underneath it and steps in behind him. As Barrows turns around to face him, Bryan hits him with a mini superkick to the knee, forcing him to drop down to it. Taking a few steps backwards, Bryan then moves in and hits with him another kick under the jaw, this one standing Barrows back to his feet. With Barrows now stunned, Bryan steps back and then forward again, hitting him with a third kick, this time right in the stomach.
The kick forces Barrows to buckle over and as he does, Bryan steps in and pulls Barrows head between his legs. Wrapping his arms around Matthias’ waist, Bryan then lifts him into the air, holding him upside down. Falling back and into a seated position, Bryan plants Barrows’ head into the canvas with a piledriver, twisting his neck while doing so.

JOHNSON: “That didn’t look right!”
VASSA: “We already had one scare earlier tonight. I don’t want to see another.”
JOHNSON: “Matthias landed awkwardly on his head and the way his neck moved to the side, I’m a little worried.”
Matthias’ body topples over to its side, crashing against the mat. Pushing himself up, Bryan looks down at the sight as the official quickly moves in to check with Barrows. Moving and definitely not paralyzed, Barrows shows everyone watching that he’s okay as the fans sigh in relief. Smelling blood in the water, Bryan then pulls Barrows up to his feet before hooking his arm around his head. Grabbing onto the back of Barrows’ pants, Bryan then lifts him vertically into the air upside down before dropping down to one knee and destroying him with a brainbuster onto his elevated knee.
VASSA: “Bryan’s knee, and now Matthias’ head and neck.”
JOHNSON: “There must be a submission from each party and now we see their targets of attack.”
VASSA: “After that CTE, Bryan may have the upper hand if he can keep up the pace.”
Covering Matthias, Bryan hooks his leg as the official rushes in with the count.


VASSA: “We’re all tied up now folks.”
JOHNSON: “With that, Bryan evens the score and now both men have a pin under their belt.”
VASSA: “There’s only one more fall left to take and it MUST be by submission.”
JOHNSON: “Both men have selected their targeted areas to attack. Bryan has put focus on Matthias’ head and neck.”
VASSA: “And Matthias has put an awful lot of attention on Bryan’s knee.”
JOHNSON: “They’ve both received a good bit of damage and it definitely shows with their slow movements and favoring body parts.”
The official backs Bryan up across the ring, giving Matthias time to come to his senses and get back to his feet. After a few moments pass, the official checks with both men as they are both ready to carry on. Stepping out of Bryan’s way, the official opens a direct path for the two and without hesitation, they move in on one another.
Closing in on each other, they circle the center of the ring for a bit until Matthias makes the first move and shoots in for Bryan’s knee. With his good knee, Bryan steps forward and lifts it up, driving it into Barrows face and knocking him down to the canvas. Sliding to the side of Barrows, Bryan begins kicking and stomping on the side of his neck. He then reaches down and pulls Barrows up from the mat. Hitting Barrows with a European uppercut, Bryan knocks him back a few steps before lunging forward and connecting with a gruesome forearm shot to the face.
Falling back against the ropes, Barrows bounces off and into Bryan who sends him running to the far corner. Limping behind, Williams tails Barrows as he hits the corner. Closing in, Bryan throws another forearm for Barrows face but instead eats boot as Barrows kicks his foot up from the mat and drives it into Bryan’s face. Bryan’s entire body turns the opposite direction and as it does, Barrows pulls himself up to the sitting on top of the corner. Standing tall, Barrows then patiently waits until Bryan turns around and as he does, Barrows leaps off the corner and levels him with a flying shoulder block.

JOHNSON: “The momentum has shifted yet again.”
VASSA: “It’s going to take some time for that taste to shift from leather to normal in Bryan’s mouth.”
JOHNSON: “Quick thinking on Matthias’ part. That desperation boot to the face turned things around for him when it was needed most.”
On his feet, Barrows pulls Bryan up before wrapping his arm around his head and grabbing ahold of the back of his pants. Driving his feet into the canvas, Matthias lifts Bryan into the air for a vertical suplex but before he can begin to drop him, Bryan breaks out of his hold and drops down to his feet behind him. Wrapping his arm around the front of Barrows, Bryan applies a sleeper hold and quickly locks it in before Barrows can escape.
VASSA: “There it is! Bryan could end it right here and retain the Pride Championship.”
JOHNSON: “He has to make Matthias tap out first.”
Barrows fights to break out of the hold but doesn’t get far as Bryan has it locked in tightly. Moments pass and Barrows fight slowly begins to die down. Reaching over his head, Barrows grabs two handfuls of Bryan’s hair and yanks it forward, nearly ripping it from his scalp. Refusing to release the hold, Bryan keeps it locked in as Barrows pulls away at his hair. Taking baby steps forward, Barrows drags Bryan with him as the two get closer and closer to the ropes.
Pulling and pulling at Bryan’s hair, Barrows just can’t seem to get him to release the sleeper hold as Bryan continues to choke the life out of him. Within feet of the ropes, Barrows finally releases Bryan hair and extends his arms forward, reaching to grab onto the ropes. Taking notice, Bryan drags him away from them until coming to a dead stop. With all of his might, Barrows moves closer and closer to the ropes again, pulling Bryan with him. Out of nowhere, Bryan then bursts with energy, lifting Barrows off his feet and driving him backwards into the canvas head first with a sleeper hold suplex.

JOHNSON: “That’s one way to get out of that.”
VASSA: “Being dropped on your head?”
JOHNSON: “At least he can finally breath freely.”
Rolling from side to side, Barrows keeps his head down as the moans of agony can be heard at the announcers booth. Back up, Williams, slowly walks over to Barrows before lifting him up from the mat. Turning him around, Bryan hits him with a forearm shot to the face and then follows up and a knee to the ribs. Swinging blindly, Barrows connects with a right to the side of Williams’ ear, knocking him in the opposite direction. The two then lock up in a struggle.
Slamming his head forward, Barrows hits Williams right between the eyes with a headbutt before tackling him down to the mat. Climbing on top of Williams, Barrows begins laying lefts and rights onto his head. Holding both hands up, Bryan attempts to fend off the punches while wrapping both legs around Barrows body. Grabbing onto Barrows head, Williams pulls it down, preventing him from throwing anymore punches towards his face. Barrows then transitions his attack to Bryan’s ribs.
The two struggle with one another on the mat for a few moments until Bryan locks his arm around Barrows head. Going for a triangle choke, Williams just needs to hook his legs next but Barrows continues laying into him with body punches. Ripping his head away from Bryan’s clutches, Barrows then swings down with all of his strength and slams his fist across Bryan’s face. The back of Bryan’s head slams against the mat and stuns him as his legs loosen around Barrows’ body.
Pushing himself up, Barrows then grabs ahold of Bryan’s legs and raises them into the air. Barrows then crosses Bryan’s legs around his.

VASSA: “Bryan’s in a bad spot, Steve.”
JOHNSON: “Matthias has him right where he wants him, set up for the Palomar Knot.”
VASSA: “He’s done quite a bit of damage to Bryan’s knee and if he can lock this hold in, it’s going to be a bad night for Bryan.”
With Bryan’s legs locks around him, Barrows steps over and turns in the opposite direction, rolling Bryan over to his stomach. With the sharpshooter now applied Barrows squats down onto Bryan’s lower back and pulls on his legs, applying the pressure as they’re both wrapped around his leg. With his right arm, Barrows keeps the hold in tact as he then reaches back with his left arm, hooking Bryan’s arm. Pulling Bryan’s body in separate directions and a tremendous amount of pressure applied to Bryan’s knee, the official quickly races over to check with him.
JOHNSON: “The Palomar Knot is locked in!”
VASSA: “Bryan has nowhere to go! Not a single rope within arms reach.”
Yelling in agony, Bryan fights through the pain for a few moments as Barrows applies more and more pressure. Refusing to give up, Bryan tries to pull himself towards the ropes but with Barrows sitting on his back, he just can’t drag them both. With nearly a minute passing, Bryan begins rapidly slapping his hand against the canvas, signaling to the official that he’s submitting.
VASSA: “There it is! Bryan has tapped out!”
JOHNSON: “We have a new Pride Champion ladies and gentlemen!”
VASSA: “After fighting through hell to win the championship and then retain at Winter Wasteland, Bryan Williams just can’t pull through here tonight at All or Nothing.”
Signaling for the bell, the official calls for the match as “Dancing Mad” hits the speakers.

JOHNSON: “Matthias Barrows has done it!”
Keeping the hold in place for another three seconds, Barrows then releases before bursting up to his feet in excitement. He charges the ropes and leaps up to the second before holding both arms out over the top. As he steps down, the official walks over to him, raising his arm into the air as Mike Powers makes the official call.
POWERS: “Here is your winner and new 4CW Pride Champion, MATTHIAS BBAARRRROOWWSS!!!”
Snatching the championship from the official, Barrows looks down at it, savoring the moment. He then looks back to Williams and laughs before strapping the championship around his waist.
JOHNSON: “Both of these men gave each other everything they had to offer but in the end, Matthias Barrows is your new Pride Champion.”
VASSA: “This match has taken a lot out of both men. No one should be ashamed of their performance here tonight.”
JOHNSON: “Matthias Barrows can know rightfully say the Pride Championship belongs to him. No more carrying around a stolen belt and pretending that he owns it.”
VASSA: “While he’s at it, he can throw away that fake championship he made up too. That thing is meaningless in comparison to the Pride Championship.”

We cut backstage where Perry Wallace is walking the halls of the TD Garden with a member of security tagging along behind him. Turning the corner, Perry stops in his tracks as the member of security nearly walks into the back of him. Surprised at what’s standing in front of him, Perry leans back before rubbing his hand across his goatee and chin.
WALLACE: “Well, look what the cat dragged in. I’m honestly surprised to see that you actually came.”
The camera pans over to the left, showing Frankie Morrison standing tall with a grin on his face. He unbuttons his black sports coat and extends his hand outwards towards Perry Wallace who quickly returns the gesture.
MORRISON: “I told you if things lined up, I’d be here. I’ve got myself a night off, so here I am.”
WALLACE: “I have to be honest with you. I’m glad that you came here tonight, Frankie. Things haven’t been that great between us over the last few months and for that, I’m sorry.”
MORRISON: “Last few months? Who are we trying to kid? Things haven’t been all that great between us since I stepped out of the office to get back to managing Chris’s career.”
WALLACE: “You may be right, but things really got bad at the end of last year. Some things were said, false allegations were tossed around freely, it was just one complete mess. I’m just glad that you’re here tonight because I’d like for us to squash the beef if possible.”
MORRISON: “I owe you at least that much. You did unite me with a son that I didn’t even know I had.”
Shrugging his shoulder, Perry tries to act like it was no big deal as he replies to Frankie.
WALLACE: “Don’t mention it. I was browsing the internet one day and saw some old photos that looked quite familiar to Jett. Figured I’d do the right thing and pass along the information. That kid needs a father figure in his life.”
MORRISON: “So you were googling old photos of me? That’s a little bizarre; but then again, it did connect me with my son…”
WALLACE: “I can’t help that searching for old 4CW photos brings you into the mix. That was a nice haircut by the way, it really looks nice on Jett now.”
MORRISON: “What can I say? The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree. I’m just glad 4CW is alive and thriving. Even though we went our separate ways, I always wanted the best for the company…”
WALLACE: “And despite our differences, I wanted the same for you and Chris as well. Speaking of which, I have a surprise for you. I wasn’t sure if you were actually going to come here tonight but if you did, I wanted you to hear it from the man himself.”
MORRISON: “You’ve given me more than enough, in just happy putting our issues to rest.”
Morrison tried his best to wave Wallace off but Perry insisted.
WALLACE: “Hold on just a moment, he shouldn’t be far behind. They were escorting him out of here tonight because for a moment, I didn’t think you were actually going to show.”
Pulling out his phone, Perry looks down at the screen while his thumbs jumps all over the place sending a text message. A few moments pass as the two stand in silence. Growing irritated on not receiving a reply, Perry then makes a swipe with his thumb before pressing against the face of the phone. Holding it up to his ear impatiently, he stands as the ringing can slightly be heard.
WALLACE: “It’s always the hardest to get ahold of someone when you actually need them. Am I right?”
Perry says with a chuckle as he points to Frankie. Frankie’s attention is then drawn behind Perry as a group of security members escort Jack Vaughn along the halls. Jack’s clothes are fresh, but the bruises on his face not so much. Black bags hang beneath his eyes as swelling is apparent around his mouth and jaw. Looking back, the security guard with Perry spots the group coming towards them. He then turns back to Perry and taps him on the back of the shoulder.
WALLACE: “Hang on a minute, will you?”
Placing a hand on Perry’s shoulder, the security guard grabs his attention ,this time forcing Perry to turn around instantly. As he does, his eyes lock on the group of security members. An angry look comes across his face as he then pulls the phone away from his ear and slides it into the pocket of his jacket.
WALLACE: “What the fuck, Sebastian! Do you not know how to answer your phone?!”
With his head held low, he shakes it back and forth, not wanting to look Perry in the eyes.
WALLACE: “I thought I told you to make sure you have it on you at all times. What good is having you around to keep me out of harm’s way if you’re not going to be there when I call? Bring that piece of shit over here.”
The security team stops feet away from Perry, holding Jack in place. Looking to Perry with anger, Jack remains silent as Perry returns the look, his with disgust and betrayal.
WALLACE: “Alright Jackie-boy, tell him the truth.”
MORRISON: “What’s the meaning of this?”
Looking back to Frankie, Perry holds his hand up momentarily before turning back to Jack.
WALLACE: “I’ll have you know that this piece of shit right here tried to frame me and set me up as someone who would give orders to purposely KILL someone in the goddamn ring. Can you believe this shit? So I had him brought to me so I could get the truth out of him myself before turning him over to the authorities. Little did I know what else I would find out. Go ahead, tell him Jack!”
Slowly looking over to Frankie, Jack stares him in the eyes as the guilt takes over.
VAUGHN: ”I did it. I’m the one responsible for ruining your good name”.
WALLACE: “Say that once more. I don’t think Frankie heard you clearly.”
Cutting his eyes to Perry, Jack grows angry but remains calm as he slowly shifts his eyes back to Frankie and then down to the floor.
VAUGHN: ”I’m the one who paid Salieri to make up those accusations about you and official tampering.”
Perry then turns back to Frankie with his arms out to his sides.
WALLACE: “There you have it. This is the son of a bitch that burned your name to the goddamn ground.”
Morrison bites down on his bottom lip and stares at Jack Vaughn. Without saying a word he shoots a stiff right hook that landed square on the jaw, knocking him back into the arms of the security team.
MORRISON: “I knew that little weasel would say anything for a quick buck!”
WALLACE: “Shit, he tried to set me up for conspiring to murder someone!”
Looking back to the security team, Perry points to Jack and then snaps his fingers in the most non-rushing way he possibly could without seeming like an asshole.
WALLACE: “Get this piece of shit out of my sight, out of Frankie’s sight, and out of the building. I don’t want to ever see his face again. Clean him up some and take him by the station. I want to press all the charges against him that I possibly can.”
Nodding in agreement, the team of security then walk Jack along the hall as he keeps his head held low. Turning back to Frankie, Perry extends his hand once more.
WALLACE: “Now that the truth has been revealed, how about you and I get a few drinks and talk.”
Frankie reaches out with the same right hand that knocked Vaughn off of his balance and shook Wallace’s hand.
MORRISON: “Just like old times…”
WALLACE: “Minus the hookers and blow, I’m sort of settled down now. At least no hookers anyway.”
Frankie smirked as he reached around Perry’s back and patted him in between the shoulders.



POWERS: “Ladies and gentleman, the following Caged Ladder Match will be for the 4CW Championship!”
The lights in the arena go pitch black, as red lasers and spotlights light up the area as the angelic voice of Lauryn Hill serenades the live crowd.
“Ready or not, here I come, you can’t hide
Gonna find you and take it slowly
Ready or not, here I come, you can’t hide
Gonna find you and make you want me”

The video screen lights up and flashes across the screen a Texas flag, with the words, “Texas Born. Texas Bred.” “Texas Forever.“ branded into the flag. The crowd reaction is mixed, but there are more cheers than boos, as “Ready or Not” by Fugees plays throughout the PA system. As the chorus begins to fade there is one final image that is displayed across the screen and that message reads in bold, capitalized letters…..SCOTT STEVENS as “Hellraiser” by Motorhead begins to play.
“Hellraiser, in the thunder and heat
Hellraiser, rock you back in your seat
Hellraiser, and I’ll make it come true
Hellraiser, I’ll put a spell on you”

The cheers intensify as the chorus hits the speakers, drawing out the man from Texas.
POWERS:”Introducing at this time, coming to us from the Great State of Texas, by way of Houston, Texas.”
Walking down the aisle, he fists bumps some of his fans while raising a fist at a few of the more vocal bashers.
POWERS:”Standing at six feet, six inches, and weighing in at two hundred and fifty-six pounds… this…is… SCOTT SSTTEEVVEENNSS!!!”
JOHNSON:“Scott Stevens has had a change of attitude here recently, but it is has paid off greatly as he has earned this title shot against the King of the Royal Family, Elijah Carlson.”
VASSA:“Stevens has got to be thinking that this is probably his last best shot at the biggest prize in all of the game.”
JOHNSON:“Exactly, one should think that he’s going to leave it all out there in that cage here tonight.”
As Scott Stevens stands in the ring waiting for the champion to make his appearance, the video screen suddenly lights up with static before a shot of Eli Carlson appears. Beneath the shot of him read the words “moments ago.” After a few seonds of silence, Eli turns his attention to the camera and speaks.
E. CARLSON: ”Do you feel it in the air, Boston? A true champion is waiting to bring his kingdom to your city. Here in just a few moments Scott Stevens and I will go toe to toe in that very ring. My 4CW Championship will dangle in the air waiting for an unqualified, ungrateful and unworthy usurper to attempt to claim it for himself, or for the rightful king to bring his crown jewel back home with him.”
The rumble of Scott Stevens entrance music that had just played moments earlier can be heard softly, causing Eli to sneer.
E. CARLSON: ”Speak of the devil himself. Scott Stevens finds himself in waters deeper than he ever expected. When you witness what happens tonight remember that your king was gracious enough to give him the opportunity to escape this. I gave him a choice and he chose not to listen to my advice. Why would he do such a thing, you ask? The world will never know. Is it pride? Is it ego? In the end does it matter? The result is the same. Your king, Elijah Carlson, will soon descend upon him with the wrath and fury of God’s own hand and it will be no one’s fault but his own.”
With a smirk, Eli takes a step back and places his hand on the black curtain that would, eventually, lead him out from the backstage area and into the main portion of the arena.
E. CARLSON: ”The man who has passed the sentence is about to swing the sword.”
Pulling the curtain back, Eli nods at the camera.
E. CARLSON: ”Boston… the king arrives.”
The scene fades to static and once more the shot that we are left with is a wide shot of the ring and entrance ramp. And then the lights around the arena go dark aside from one singular spotlight pointed directly at the top of the entrance ramp. After a few seconds of silence a man dressed to the nine’s in a tuxedo comes out with a scroll in his hands, looking no worse for wear after being assaulted by Dakota Smith two weeks earlier, stopping in the middle of the spotlight as another worker runs out a microphone and a stand and sets it before the unnamed man. Slowly the man unravels the scroll and clears his throat.
HERALD: ”HEAR YE! HEAR YE! By royal decree, the King of Four Corners Wrestling COMMANDS YOU to rise from your seats and show some well deserved respect as King Eli makes his way to the ring. ALL RISE!”
Boo’s reign down upon the man loudly as he rolls the scroll back up and moves off to the side, standing with his arms at his side respectfully as the spotlight shuts off, plunging the entire arena into darkness. On the big screen, images of Elijah Carlson highlights flicker. A coronation kick to the temple of Chris Mosh, an Ascension leaping, twisting splash from the top rope onto Keith Daniels, and an image of Eli and Genie standing on top of the Warzone of Horrors cage scanning the crowd and the carnage around them are among the short bursts of images that are mixed in before once again the arena plunges into darkness. After a long moment of silence the sound of a fierce wind fills the arena before the opening beats of “Motivation” by T.I. ring forth over the speakers, the lights coming back on full blare as the big screen begins playing highlights of Eli’s career in 4CW again.
“Better get on yo job, tell’em, haters get on yo job, nigga (Motivation)
Nigga, get on yo job, tell’em, haters get on yo job, nigga (Motivation)
Haters better get on yo job, tell’em, haters get on yo job, nigga (It’s motivation)
Sucka nigga, get on yo job, if ya, hatin’ get on yo job, nigga”

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

A moment later a stagehand steps out onto the stage and walks with a serious look on his face, moving directly to Eli. The man in the tuxedo presents the 4CW Championship belt, which the stagehand takes from him and then steps behind Eli, wrapping the belt around his waist and fastening it. Again, the man in the tuxedo bows to him, going so far as to allow his knee to touch the ground and rest there as he lowers his head. Without another moment passing, Eli begins his walk down the ramp toward the ring. Behind him the kneeling man stands and begins to roll the red carpet up behind them. Once at the bottom of the entrance ramp Eli removes his jacket, dropping it to the floor. After he had done so the man in the tuxedo retrieves it while Eli rolls himself into the ring and makes his way over to the far turnbuckle, unbuckling the championship from his waist and taking it into his right hand, climbing the turnbuckle and raising his arms and belt in the air as the boo’s reign down even louder than before.
“I ain’t sat down yet, pimp, standin’ gorilla
Even if I’ma all alone or standin’ with four niggaz
Tell’em jump, pimpin’ it don’t get no realer
5’9″ with the soul of a 6’4″ nigga
I separated the fakes, paralized from the waist down
From the real stand up guys of the A-Town
Can’t even look me in my eyes, put yo face down
I’m outta jail nigga, whachu gotta say now?”

As the music fades, Powers moves to introduce him but the man in the tuxedo dismisses him with a wave of his hand, taking the microphone from the man first.

HERALD: Four Corners Wrestling is proud to present to you, standing six foot one inch tall and weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds, he is the 2016 Warzone of Horrors winner, the 2016 4CW Breakout Superstar, the 4CW Champion AND… The King of Four Corners Wrestling… ELIJAH CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”
Eli hops down from the turnbuckle amidst a chorus of boo’s. He hands the belt off to the referee and then begins bouncing on the balls of his feet as he silently goes through his pre-match warm up.
JOHNSON:“The 4CW champion, the man who defeated Jair Hopkins for that belt now has to step inside that steel cage and retrieve the championship belt high overhead.”
VASSA:“Let’s hope he’s been practicing how to climb a ladder then.”
JOHNSON:“Ominously now, the cage door shuts. Two men in the cage, one man is going to emerge as the champion.”

JOHNSON:“And here we go, the 4CW title hangs high over head and one of these two men are going to be tasked with climbing to the top of the ladder and grabbing it first.”
VASSA:“Too bad the ladder is outside of the cage right now! They’re going to first have to get a ladder.”
JOHNSON:“Scott Stevens facing down Elijah Carlson here, these two have gone back and forth recently with attacks and causing a lot of collateral damage in their wake.”
VASSA:“You included, Steve!”
The two begin to circle around the ring looking for an opening to strike the other one first. Carlson fakes a move, but then so does Stevens. Stevens goes for a lock-up, but Elijah ducks under. A frustrated Stevens backs off a little bit which this time causes Eli to charge in at him, but Stevens counters that with a drop toe hold! Carlson hits the mat hard and quickly Stevens is on top of him looking to lock in an armbar or various submission. Carlson fights back as Stevens locks the arm as he flips forward and back up to his feet with a nice looking escape.
JOHNSON:“A little bit of whatever you can do, I can do better early on this match played by the champ.”
VASSA:“I’m still hoping Stevens puts a boot square between the eyes here at some point.”
The two go back to circling around a little each other a bit, this time Stevens is able to get a proper collar and elbow tie-up going. This is quickly turned into a standing wristlock by Stevens as he pushes down onto the shoulder with some force. Carlson drops to a knee in pain, but then uses his acrobatic skills to do a front flip himself and in the process causes Scott Stevens to flip over the top of him turning into an armdrag takeover! Stevens pops right back up and charges in again, but is caught again by Carlson who hits another armdrag takeover. Stevens pops up for the second time, but this time Carlson leaps up into nailing a dropkick to the jaw of Stevens which causes the challenger to stumble backwards into the corner.
Carlson charges in at Stevens and leaps into the air connecting only with turnbuckle padding as Stevens is able to get out of the way fast enough. Eli bounces off right into the waiting arms of Stevens who locks in a rear waist lock and lifts him over to the top…

JOHNSON:“NO! Carlson lands on his feet as Stevens went for a release German suplex there.”
VASSA:“Reflexes like a cat, how annoying.”
Stevens gets back up to his feet and the champ is waiting there for him as he leaps up again and nails another dropkick, this time backing Stevens up against the ring ropes and nearly sending him crashing into the cage wall. Carlson is right back up to his feet and he charges forward…

…hitting nothing but the cage wall as Stevens does his best impression of a bullfighter!
JOHNSON:“The champ hits that unforgiving steel link fencing face first as Scott Stevens dips out of the way! Metal on skin, nothing ever good comes from that.”
VASSA:“Well, a little bit of payback to Carlson comes from that and that feels good to me.”
Carlson springs off the side of the cage wall stunned from the impact, Stevens instantly scoops him up after a kick to the midsection lifting him high into the air over his shoulders and drives him down…

…slamming him into the mat with a vicious powerbomb! Carlson bounces off the mat from the impact of that move. Stevens thinks about blasting him again, but instead he begins to make his way to the cage door. Stevens leaps down from the apron to the floor below and begins to head towards one of the ladders that have been left on the outside of the ring.
JOHNSON:“Scott Stevens is out of the ring and he’s looking for a ladder after delivering that vicious powerbomb onto the champion.”
VASSA:“Get it while you can, yeah. But Elijah is not going lay down here for the rest of the match, he’s going to still have some fight left him in even after that powerbomb.”
Stevens slides the ladder into the ring, by this time Elijah has gotten back up to his feet and runs towards the ladder and slides catching it with both of his boots sending the other end of the ladder right into the chest of Scott Stevens!! Stevens is rocked and hits the guard railing on the outside back first. Carlson then pulls the ladder fully into the ring and begins to set it back up in the middle of the ring. Stevens, holding his chest in some pain, begins to pull himself back into the ring. Carlson stops what he’s doing and charges into the corner where Stevens is and connects with a leaping dropkick targeting Stevens in his knee! The knee is shoved up against the cage wall causing Stevens to yell out in pain clutching his knee.
JOHNSON:“Vicious shot to the knee by Carlson! Eli’s targeting that injured knee of his opponent.”
VASSA:“If he can’t walk, he can’t climb a ladder.”
JOHNSON:“Carlson with a couple more boots to that knee now! The champion doing all that he can to just make that knee too painful for the massive frame of Scott Stevens to stand on.”
Carlson turns around and grabs the ladder which has fallen up against the ropes and he grabs it by the side and…

…bounces it off the skull of Scott Stevens one time! Not being too happy with it only bouncing one time, Elijah pulls the ladder back and throws it at his opponent one more time…

…this time Stevens falls to the canvas covering his head. His legs are still tied up in the ring ropes as he falls to the mat. Carlson picks up the ladder and sets it up in the middle of the ring.
JOHNSON:“And now the champion begins to make the climb up the ladder towards the 4CW championship belt hanging high overhead. With each rung he gets closer and closer to getting his hands back on his title.”
VASSA:“Stevens still unable to get his feet out of the ropes.”
JOHNSON:“Eli’s halfway up to his belt, this could be the end here already for Scott Stevens.”
VASSA:“Eli’s having a little trouble climbing up, I think that ladder’s bent and wobbling some.”
JOHNSON:“Carlson’s got the title within his reach, just touching the belt with the fingertips…”

VASSA:“What a fall, what an incredible fall the champion just took.”
Carlson lays between the ropes and the cage wall, Stevens hobbles over towards the ladder and begins to pull it up to a standing position, however Carlson is able to grab the end of it which causes Stevens to stop what he’s doing. Stevens stomps onto Carlson and then pulls him back up to his feet with a handful of a hair. Carlson is still seemingly out on dream street as Stevens rocks him with a couple of right hands, Stevens breaks from him for a moment and lays the ladder on the mat flat. Stevens lifts the champion up onto his shoulders with a fireman’s carry, which means only one thing as he flips the champ up and over…

…hitting a Death Valley Driver on Carlson right onto the unforgiving steel of the ladder!
JOHNSON:“HOUSTON WE HAVE A PROBLEM! And it’s a ladder to the back of Elijah Carlson!”
VASSA:“If that fall didn’t break something, I’m pretty sure that one did. Scott Stevens is just brutalizing the champion right now.”
JOHNSON:“I can’t say that I’m not jealous right now, after all the things Elijah Carlson has done to myself and you, Vinny.”
Carlson holds his back in some serious pain as he rolls off of the ladder, which looks a little bent from the impact, as Stevens looks up at the title. Stevens picks up the ladder and begins to try and pull it apart, however, due to the damage he’s having a bit of a problem. Carlson begins to pull himself back up to his feet in this time that Stevens gets more and more frustrated with the ladder. Just as Carlson gets up to his feet…

…he gets nailed in the face as Stevens throws the ladder! Eli hits the deck again as Stevens gives up on getting the ladder over. Stevens doesn’t follow that up with anything and instead begins to head to the outside of the ring looking for another ladder to use in the ring. Once on the outside he finds another ladder left there and slides it into the ring and begins to head back in.
JOHNSON:“Stevens went and got himself another ladder!”
VASSA:“How many do we have down there?”
JOHNSON:“Enough for this match, hopefully.”
VASSA:“Wallace robbed a Menards!”
Stevens begins to set up the ladder in the middle of the enclosed ring, Carlson is still in the process of pulling himself back up to his feet and now there is a nice trail of blood that begins to leak down his forehead. Stevens begins to climb as Carlson stumbles around a bit, rung by rung Stevens gets closer but on the other side of the ladder Elijah Carlson begins to climb the ladder as well!
JOHNSON:“Both men are climbing the ladder towards the gold!”
VASSA:“Who is going to get to the top first? Who is going to hold onto the gold first?””
JOHNSON:“Carlson has caught up to Stevens and now the two begin to exchange right hands. Carlson nearly falling, but holds on and counters with a right hand of his own.”
VASSA:“Who’s going to take the plunge!?”
The two go back and forth with a couple of more shots, Stevens unloads with a huge haymaker shot which causes Carlson to slip a little bit down. This gives Stevens a chance to reach up for the gold, he clips it with the top of his fingers causing the belt to sway back and forth. Carlson charges up one more time and with both arms wraps his hands around the back of Stevens head and slams him face first into the top of the ladder…

…causing both men to fall from the ladder in the middle of the ring. Stevens hits back first, while Carlson is able to land pretty much on his feet. Carlson stumbles but then begins to crawl up the ladder once again.
JOHNSON:“There goes the champion with another chance at the title belt. He stunned Stevens with that jawbreaker off the top of the ladder and now looks to finish this match off.”
VASSA:“Better climb faster champ, Stevens is back up to his feet.”
JOHNSON:“Halfway up, and Stevens charges at the ladder…”

But that’s just the sound of the ladder hitting the mat as Scott Stevens drops it to the mat. Elijah Carlson was able to leap from the ladder to the cage wall hooking himself with his fingers and feet. The crowd is a bit stunned, as is Scott Stevens. Without thinking, Stevens begins to charge up the cage trying to go after Elijah Carlson. The two slowly begin to make their way up the ring as Stevens tries to pull Carlson off of the cage, and Elijah trying to get away from him.
JOHNSON:“Up the cage they go, perhaps Elijah thinking he might be able to leap towards the belt or something of that nature or…”
VASSA:“Or he’s just trying to stay away from Scott Stevens right now.”
JOHNSON:“Probably that, Vinny.”
Stevens grabs hold of Carlson’s leg as the two are near the corner of the cage. Stevens’ makes the climb up and the two are head and shoulders over the cage wall trading shots towards each other. Elijah tries attacking that knee of Stevens with some well placed kicks, but Stevens counters by grabbing Carlson by the back of the head and slamming into the top of the cage! Stevens does it a second time and Carlson nearly lets go, but just as he does Stevens grabs him on the way down…

…turning the fall into a modified powerbomb from the top of the cage!! The crowd erupts as both men bounce off of the canvas a good foot or two in the process and then lay flat after the impact. Neither man looking too good after taking that shot.
VASSA:“That’s a grade A car crash in the ring right now. Both men, both men are down after that one.”
JOHNSON:“An absolute hellacious fall there, Vinny. And still the only way to win this one is to climb the ladder another time at least.”
VASSA:“After a fall like that, do you think either man wants to think about that? Hell no, Steve. Hell no.”
Stevens is back up to his feet again, his eyes go from his opponent who is still trying to get back to his knees up to the title that hangs overhead of both of them. Sucking up any pain he might be feeling he staggers over towards one of the ladders lying in the ring and sets it up in the corner. He then makes his way over to where Elijah is getting back up to his feet still. Stevens helps him with a handful of hair and unloads with a couple of right hands which rock the champion into the opposite corner of the set-up ladder. Stevens sends Carlson across the ring with a whip…

…Carlson nails the ladder back first with the impact from the whip! Stevens doesn’t wait for Carlson to take an additional breath before he charges across the ring and leaps into the air going for a massive splash into the corner…

…missing the 4CW champion completely and hitting the ladder face first!! As he bounces off of the unforgiving steel ladder Carlson is waiting there for him and leaps up into the air and kicking Stevens with both feet in the back sending the Texan forward again…

…face first into the ladder for a second time! Stevens collapses into the ladder and falls to the mat backwards.
JOHNSON:“That ladder doing so much damage in such a short time, momentum swinging back and forth between these two so quickly.”
VASSA:“Neither man wanting to back down, fighting through the pain and the injuries to try to outlast the other man at this point.”
JOHNSON:“That might be the key to winning this match, be the last one moving.”
Elijah Carlson leaps up into the corner with the ladder propped up into it and grabs a hold of the top of the ladder before he rides it down towards the body of Scott Stevens…

…slamming it down onto his body! Carlson rolls to his feet and looks towards the other ladder that was brought into the ring earlier. He quickly heads for it and begins to set it up as close to the center of the ring as possible. Slowly, Carlson begins to climb up one rung at a time. Stevens is slow to his feet, but as he sees Carlson climbing he grabs the ladder that landed on him and charges at Carlson with it nailing him in the back with the top of the ladder!
JOHNSON:“These two just brutalizing each other in this match. Just when you think one’s got a chance to get up to the top of the ladder, the other one just does something like use the ladder as spear!”
VASSA:“Pain just shot through every single nerve in Elijah’s body after that shot.”
JOHNSON:“Carlson slides down the ladder, right into the awaiting arms of Scott Stevens. Stevens lifts up the champion spinning him around…”

VASSA:“Double S. Spinebuster!”
JOHNSON:“We’ve seen that move dozens of times from Scott Stevens, and every time it just seems to kill any momentum of his opponents. Could this be the moment that he needs to start to climb the ladder again?”
VASSA:“There’s no time like the present, but neither man has been able to keep the other long enough down to climb that ladder yet.”
Stevens picks up the ladder and eyes the title above him, instead of setting the ladder up in the middle of the ring he instead lays it across the middle of the ring and heads over to where a bloodied Elijah Carlson is starting to stir. Stevens unloads a couple of right hands across the forehead of the champion which gets the blood flowing once again. He then pulls the champion up to his feet and puts him into a standing scissors lock as he lines up to the ladder he laid across the middle of the ring.
JOHNSON:“Scott Stevens is going to try and break the back of Elijah Carlson here. That’s got to be the plan right now, drop him across the ladder back first.”
VASSA:“Well, if Eli can’t walk he’ll be unable to climb up. Unless he’s Batman, then all bets are off.”
Stevens goes to lift Elijah up for a powerbomb, but Elijah is able to stop it by falling to a knee. Stevens hits Elijah in the ribs with a couple of right hands, and then goes for another deadlift. This time Elijah is able to slip out of the powerbomb attempt as Stevens gets him up into the air. Carlson goes with a quick go behind and as Stevens spins around Carlson leaps up backwards…

…connecting with a Pele Kick! From the impact of the kick Stevens falls backwards and lands back first across the ladder in the middle of the ring. Elijah runs to ropes slinging himself off leaping up into the air…

…nailing a double foot stomp to the midsection of Stevens ontop of the ladder!!
JOHNSON:“Oh my! Double foot stomp follows up the Your Coronation and Elijah Carlson has once again turned the tide in his favor.”
VASSA:“Too bad he’s got his opponent laying in the middle of the ring on top of the ladder.”
JOHNSON:“Very true Vinny, however, there is that second ladder.”
Carlson begins to drag the second ladder towards the middle of the ring. He stands it up and begins to try and rip it apart, slowly the ladder gives way and Elijah is able stand up the wobbly ladder on the ground. Elijah begins to make the climb, but quickly has to stop as Scott Stevens begins to pull at his feet. Carlson is able to shake him off with enough kicks and Stevens whips himself around the other side of the ladder and begins to climb up as well, the two continue to exchange right hands on the way up.
JOHNSON:“The two once again attempt to make the climb exchanging right hands on the way up.”
VASSA:“This has yet to end well for either one of these two tonight.”
JOHNSON:“Up and up they go, rights flying back and forth… wait… Stevens is grabbing the back of Elijah Carlson’s head, what does he have in mind here?!”
VASSA:“No idea, but it can’t be good…”
JOHNSON:“Stevens has got the champion…”

The crowd can’t believe it either, Scott Stevens driving the champion so hard into the mat that Elijah bounced at least three feet into the air from the impact after Stevens connected with the Ace Crusher. Both men lay there for a moment before Stevens begins to stir a little bit, he also took some damage from the fall but not nearly enough to keep him down for too long. Slowly Stevens picks himself back up and begins to crawl his way towards the ladder in the middle of the ring. Carlson pretty much lays still on his stomach, blood pools on the mat as a result of his injuries. Stevens begins to climb slowly, each rung seems like a challenge to him as he makes his way up to a standing position and then attempts the challenge of climbing.
JOHNSON:“You can see the toll that this match has put on the body of veteran like Scott Stevens. A man who has been around wrestling for a generation now, and to have a match like this… it’s amazing he’s still able to stand.”
VASSA:“Yeah, but can he climb?”
JOHNSON:“We’re about to find out.”
Stevens reaches up with one hand and pulls himself up with the other onto the first step, and then another, and another. Pretty soon he’s halfway up the ladder and making his way to the title belt that his eyes are fixated on.
JOHNSON:“Up he goes, up goes Stevens. Ascending towards the 4CW championship belt, the biggest prize in all of wrestling.”
VASSA:“Will the Royal Family be shattered here tonight?!”
JOHNSON:“Another step closer.”
Stevens’ eyes close in on the title, his focus is just to get there. So much so, that he hasn’t seen that Elijah Carlson has been able to get back up onto his feet. Elijah charges at Scott Stevens, but Stevens is able to counter it and nail Carlson in the face with a back kick. This sends Elijah stumbling into the ring ropes, he slings himself off of the ropes to the other side of the ring and off of those ropes, Eli leaps up…

…connecting with a sick kick after leaping up the ladder nailing Stevens in the midsection and sending him crashing to the mat once again. Carlson too nails his tailbone on the canvas, but nearly bounces back up to his feet in the process.
JOHNSON:“Red Light Special from the champion and that one shifts the momentum right back to him!”
VASSA:“He uses the ladder as springboard and get to the height to connect with that kick. Incredible.”
JOHNSON:“Considering the punishment he’s been through in this match? Yes, incredible display there by the champion.”
Carlson doesn’t go for the climb of the ladder, instead he makes his way over to where the other ladder is and picks that one up and sets it down close to one of the corners. He then turns his attention towards Scott Stevens, standing over his body for a moment the champion leans down and slaps him across the face shouting at his opponent. Possibly to wake up Stevens. Then Carlson pulls the big Texan back up to his feet and in a single motion scoop slams him back first across the downed ladder. That’s when the champion heads towards the corner turnbuckle and begins to climb up to the top ropes.
Carlson stands holding the cage walls with each of his hands as looks out towards the crowd while Stevens lays across that ladder. The crowd buzzes in anticipation as Carlson leaps high into the air twisting his body around into a Phoenix Splash…


…hitting nothing but the ladder as Scott Stevens is able to roll out of the way at the last possible moment!! Carlson’s chest bounces off of the ladder and the sound of air rushing from his lungs can be heard over the entire arena.
JOHNSON:“Oh my God! Carlson went for the Ascension and ended up hitting only the ladder in the process!”
VASSA:“He might have broken a couple of ribs from the impact of that one, Steve! That might have been the break that Stevens as needed to climb to the top of the ladder.”
Stevens gets back up to his feet and picks up the ladder that Elijah just landed on, he waits for the champion to begin to get back up to his feet somewhat before planting the ladder right into those ribs of Carlson with the ladder!! Using his strength he drives the champion into the corner with the ladder as a spear driving it further and further into his ribcage. Just as it looks like he’s done, Stevens charges into the corner and connects with a vicious European uppercut!
JOHNSON:“Debbie Does Dallas uppercut from Stevens!”
VASSA:“What a great film, and what a great job of trapping Elijah Carlson into the corner with that ladder he has done now. The road is clear for Stevens to climb to the top now!”
JOHNSON:“It seems that way, Vinny.”
Stevens turns his attention to the ladder in the middle of the ring and begins to climb the ladder, Carlson struggles to move the ladder that has been stuck in his gut. As Stevens gets up the ladder, Carlson picks up the one in front of him and charges towards his opponent. At the last moment, Stevens leaps out of the way which causes Eli to hit the other ladder with his ladder knocking it over. As Carlson drops the ladder, Stevens waits for him to turn around…

…smacking him in the face with Superkick right to Carlson’s jaw!
JOHNSON:“Remember the Alamo! Right in the face with that vicious kick!”
VASSA:“Carlson just falling to the mat after that one.”
JOHNSON:“What’s Stevens doing now? He’s pulling up Carlson by the hair and heading to the outside of the ring? What the–?”
Indeed he is Steve. Stevens picks up the champion and makes the referees on the outside open up the cage door as he flings the champion from the inside of the ring to the outside floor. Stevens follows him to the outside as well for good measure. Stevens unloads with a couple of right hands which back Carlson up against the guard railing, this gives Stevens the chance to grab the champion by the back of the head and attempt to throw him into the cage wall, but Carlson is able to put on the breaks with his arms and instead fires back with a couple of elbow shots to the face of Stevens.
Carlson then begins to strike at the bad knee of Stevens with a series of kicks. Stevens grabs at his leg in pain which gives the champion a chance to back up and charge in connecting with a double sliding dropkick right to that knee again. Stevens bends in half before falling to his knees in pain, the champion backs off and lifts up the apron and after a moment of looking for something emerges with a folded steel chair. Carlson rears back and swings the chair about as hard as humanly possible at Stevens’ head…


…hitting nothing but the corner of the cage! Stevens is able to duck under at the last moment and pushes himself back up to his feet in the process. He grabs the stunned champion from behind the neck and in a sudden motion leans back…

JOHNSON:“Scorpion Death Drop! Scott Stevens has just planted the champion on the outside of the ring. And now it’s Scott Stevens looking under the ring, what’s he going to get?”
VASSA:“He’s got to have a plan or looking for something specific, because there’s a perfectly good chair laying right there in front of him.”
From under the ring Stevens pulls out a long camera cord which he pulls at for a little bit before he turns his attention back to the champion. Carlson is back up to his feet and Stevens nails him with another right hand, the champion is rocked again and Stevens grabs him by the back of the head and proceeds to toss the champion up and over the guard railing and into the crowd!! The front row scatters as Elijah lands on the concrete after bouncing off a couple of chairs. Stevens doesn’t follow, but instead picks up the camera wire and slowly slides back into the ring favoring the bad knee of his.
JOHNSON:“What’s Scott Stevens have in mind here?”
VASSA:“I think he’s figured out a way to make it up the ladder, Steve.”
JOHNSON:“You don’t think he’s going to…”
Yeah. Stevens closes the cage door and begins to wrap the camera cord around the door and the rest of the cage, making sure that the knot is on the inside of the cage and would be unable to open from the outside. By this time Carlson has been able to get up and back over the guard railing, Stevens just laughs as Carlson tries clawing at the knot. Stevens turns his back to the champion and begins to head over towards the downed ladders in the ring, shuffling as he walks he begins to scoop up one of the ladders. Eli frantically tears at the camera cord trying to get back into through the cage door, Stevens doesn’t seem to be at all in a hurry as he places the ladder in the middle of the ring and walks around making sure he’s got it right under the 4CW championship.
JOHNSON:“Stevens tied the door shut, Carlson can’t get to the knot… we might have a new champion here tonight!!”
VASSA:“Great thinking there by Scott Stevens. Talk about a veteran move, there was going to be no other way to keep Elijah off of him long enough to climb that ladder so he locks him out of the cage. Genius move. Genius.”
JOHNSON:“A veteran of many cage matches, I am sure that Scott Stevens has never thought about this before tonight, but I agree it’s a wise move, Vinny.”
Carlson claws frantically now as Stevens begins to slowly ascend the ladder in the center of the ring. Carlson’s eyes look the cage and just like Spiderman he too begins to climb upwards.
JOHNSON:“The champ’s climbing the cage!”
VASSA:“Well, that’s the way to get out of being locked out. But can he make it in time?”
JOHNSON:“Up the ladder goes Scott Stevens, and up the cage goes the champion!”
Stevens begins to reach up towards the title just as Elijah Carlson reaches the top of the cage and begins to flip his legs over the top in the corner. Stevens and Carlson’s eyes lock as Stevens cracks a smile as he begins to reach up for the title belt, Elijah still have to climb down the cage and up the ladder. Stevens begins to reach with his other hand to unhook the belt when Eli doesn’t begin to climb down the cage wall, but instead stands up…

VASSA:“Did we catch that on camera, tell me we caught that.”
JOHNSON:“Yes we did, our fine camera crew caught all of that amazing death-defying move pulled off by Elijah Carlson.”
Both men are wiped out on the canvas, the crowd is besides itself standing in dead silence, shocked expressions on their faces, and trying to process what they are just saw. Still over all of the carnage in the ring the 4CW championship title hangs overhead.
JOHNSON:“What is it going to take? What is it going to take for one of these two men to capture the title atop of the ladder?”
VASSA:“Possibly a chainsaw, but I don’t know how you’d get it inside the cage right now… it’s locked up tight.”
JOHNSON:“Some of the officials on the outside have begun to tie and cut the knot of the camera cord tied around the door.”
Slowly and in a lot of pain Elijah Carlson begins to stir in the ring, he is followed back up to his feet by Scott Stevens. The two begin to crawl towards opposite sides of the ladder which is still standing in the middle of the ring. Elijah places a hand on the bottom rung, and then his other on the second rung. Scott does the same thing. The two begin their climb, neither seem to be paying too much attention to the other one.
Halfway up, neither man is moving all that much faster, the crowd begins to buzz in anticipation as the two continue to ignore each other. Blood has dried on the face of Elijah, while bruises and bumps have appeared on the chest and back of Scott. Both men concentrate on the climb rather the pain in their bodies as they climb further and further up.
As they reach the top of the ladder, the two finally make eye contact with the other one. Stevens rocks Carlson with a downward chop…


…which Carlson counters by doing the samething…

…in fact, the two order the other a plate full of chops as they go back and forth with it…

Stevens leans back a little bit from the pain, and this gives Elijah an opening to reach up and grab a hold of the hook that is holding up the 4CW title belt. Instead of coming back with another chop, Stevens does the same and tugs on the hook himself!
JOHNSON:“Both men have a hand on the belt!”
VASSA:“I can’t watch, but I want to. I can’t, but I must!”
JOHNSON:“Now both men begin to reach up with their other hands… my oh my!”
Carlson and Stevens lock both arms onto the hook with the title belt, they begin to tug which causes the ladder to become unstable in the process and they begin to sway side to side. More and more they sway in the middle of the ring, more and more the ladder rocks as well. That is, until…

The ladder hits up against the cage wall. The two competitors hang suspended over the ring holding onto the hook that holds the title belt neither man willing to let go. The crowd is to their feet, as the two try to hold onto the hook for dear life, each man knowing that the first man to let go is going to lose out on the title.
Stevens unloads with a headbutt! Carlson counters with a kick to the knee! Neither man can get much on the shots, they do it again. Carlson’s one arm breaks its grip, Stevens hits another headbutt.

JOHNSON:“This could be it! This could be all over!”
Carlson brings his free arm back up to the hook and he grabs on, he fires back with a couple more shots to the bum knee. Stevens counters by wrapping his massive legs around Carlson as he tries to pull him off that way… the belt and the two men sway back and forth until…


VASSA:“I don’t believe it, I don’t fucking believe it. Scott Stevens put damned near all of his weight onto Elijah, but the champ held on, he held on and he’s still the champion.”
Elijah unhooks the belt and drops down into the ring, the referees have managed to open up the door, some attend to the fallen Scott Stevens while the other one raises the arm of Elijah Carlson into the air as “”Motivation” by T.I. plays out over the arena once again.
POWERS: “Here is your winner and STILL 4CW Champion, ELIJAH CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”
The crowd shows respect here to the champion, as he begins to head out of the ring being carried by a couple members of staff.
JOHNSON: “That’s it for tonight folks!”
VASSA: “We had one hell of a show. A lot of action and a lot of title changes.”
JOHNSON: “The landscape here in 4CW has changed drastically here tonight and it’s only going to lead to bigger things as we head into South Beach Brawl.”
VASSA: “In just two months baby! We’re going to Miami!”
JOHNSON: “Be sure to tune in two weeks from now as he head to the Mohegan Sun Arena in Uncasville, Connecticut for Adrenaline!”
VASSA: “I can’t wait to see what’s in store and all the fallout following here tonight.”
JOHNSON: “That’s a wrap, from everyone here at 4CW, we wish you a safe night and we’ll see you in two weeks. I’m Steve Johnson…”
VASSA: “And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good night!”