ADRENALINE E63 (097)

4CW ADRENALINE E63 MARCH 29TH, 2017
SPECTRUM CENTER CHARLOTTE, NC

Surrounded by fans as far as the eye can see, the picture opens inside of the ring within the Spectrum Center in Charlotte, North Carolina. “Bulls on Parade” rumbles throughout the entire arena as the camera slowly scans over the fans in attendance. In the mixture of 4CW followers, various fans hold signs above their heads as the camera zooms in on a few in particular.

ROYAL FAMILY
REST IN PISS

STAND
WITH
THEM

STOLE THIS
SIGN FROM
CARNAGE
WITH A K

JUST
GRAPS
BABY

CHAMPION FIRST
HUSBAND SECOND

#FREEJAIR

Turning to the booth, Steve Johnson and Vinny Vassa come into view. The camera view quickly changes to an up close shot from directly in front of the booth where our commentary team standby ready to get things underway.

JOHNSON: ”Good evening ladies and gentlemen and welcome to 4CW Adrenaline! I’m your host, Steve Johnson!”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! Hello folks!”

JOHNSON: ”We’re coming to you live tonight from the Spectrum Center in Charlotte, North Carolina.”

VASSA: ”On our way to warmer climates as we travel south on our way to South Beach Brawl.”

JOHNSON: ”Speaking of South Beach Brawl, tonight we jump into the second round of the South Beach Brawl Cup where the winner at the end will face Elijah Carlson at the pay-per-view for the 4CW Championship.”

VASSA: ”Two weeks ago we watched as the first round took place and it was filled with competition from top to bottom. Now we’re down to half the entrants who will face off right here tonight to decide who will advance to the finals.”

JOHNSON: ”Let’s take a quick look at the bracket before we jump into things.”

JOHNSON: ”In our first round two match, we have one half of the Tag Team Champions taking on the former Princess of 4CW, the one who not only killed the Royal Family two weeks ago but also turned against Perry Wallace, her co called ‘father’.”

VASSA: ”Johnny Evil and Genevie Carlson didn’t have too many nice things to say about each other leading up to tonight’s event. They have a bit of history from past matches, most recent being the Tag Team Championship match at All Or Nothing where Evil and his partner, Adrian Tanner Jr., stepped up to the plate and sealed the victory.”

JOHNSON: ”This match could very well steal the entire show!”

VASSA: ”it could, but our other round two match features two great talents. They may not have the history like Evil and Genie have, but Scott Stevens and Bronx Valescence are guaranteed to give the fans what they asked for and then some!”

JOHNSON: ”This is the first time these two have competed against each other in 4CW and the stakes are awful high!”

VASSA: ”Stevens wants to get another shot at Eli after falling short at All Or Nothing and Bronx wants to carry on his momentum from last years tournament by winning it this time.”

JOHNSON: ”Whichever two advance tonight will bring one heck of a round three match to the table at the next Adrenaline.”

VASSA: ”With the tournament out of the way, we still have quite a few big matches tonight. Later on we have a six person over the top rope elimination rumble to decide who will challenge Tara Davidson at South Beach Brawl for the Fate Championship.”

JOHNSON: ”There are quite a few good names in this match, but speaking of Tara, she’s in one of two champion versus champion matches tonight.”

VASSA: ”Not one, but two champion versus champion matches tonight! First we get to see the Pride Champion take on the Extreme Champion, and then we get to see the Fate Champion take on the 4CW Champion.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s right, Sativa Nevaeh and Matthias Barrows will square later on tonight in what could very well turn out into a drug war.”

VASSA: ”I would like nothing more than for that to happen honestly.”

JOHNSON: ”Of course you would! The match I think everyone wants to see is our main event where Tara Davidson will take on Elijah Carlson.”

VASSA: ”Petty, petty, petty… this is what happens when daughter turns on father. Perry Wallace takes matters into his own hands and pits best friend and husband against each other to make her suffer.”

JOHNSON: ”That seems to be the case after Genie leveled Perry at our last show, walking out on the Royal Family and eventually causing a disturbance in the group.”

VASSA: ”You know how Perry is. He always has to get the last word and this match places her in between both best friend and husband as they are lined up to beat the shit out of each other later tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”So with all these matches and plenty more in the lineup, there’s one more HUGE match tonight that will kick the show off.”

VASSA: ”This is a match that people have been dying to see for a very long time.”

JOHNSON: ”I know we have a tournament going on and some champion versus champion matches on the books, but this match is my pick for biggest match of the evening.”

VASSA: ”Cousin versus cousin for the first time here on Adrenaline Sixty-three!”

JOHNSON: ”It was mentioned a few days ago that these two have been synonymous with 4CW over the years and it’s hard to believe that they haven’t had a one on one match yet.”

VASSA: ”I can’t think of two other names who have done more for 4CW than these two men. Dakota is a Hall of Famer and Cashe is guaranteed to be in the Hall of Fame one day.”

JOHNSON: ”Dakota is the longest reigning 4CW Champion and Cashe has belt the belt three times throughout his 4CW career. They’ve both held the Extreme Championship, Cashe twice in fact. When you compare the achievements of both men in 4CW, it’s a tough decision to choose one over the other.”

VASSA: ”Cashe has always been considered the foundation of 4CW. You can make the same argument for Dakota as well in a sense. Cashe has been around a year longer so I have to give that term to him.”

JOHNSON: ”And you’re absolutely right! Cashe has done a lot to build the 4CW name but without Dakota coming on a year after its birth, I don’t know if this company would be as strong as it is today.”

VASSA: ”Say what you will, but these two are destined to be 4CW legends. Hell, they are 4CW legends!”

JOHNSON: ”I can’t argue with you there.”

VASSA: ”So who are you picking?”

JOHNSON: ”Who are you picking?”

VASSA: ”I asked you first!”

JOHNSON: ”I’m undecided, but luckily we don’t have to wait long to see this match finally go down.”

VASSA: ”Oh you pussy! We both know that–“

JOHNSON: ”Here it comes!”

VASSA: ”WHAT?!?! You know what, I’m not even going to pick. I’m torn between someone I’ve known over the years and someone who I have nightmares about. I think it’s best we just cut backstage for a quick moment before jumping right into the action.”

JOHNSON: ”You heard the man, folks! We’re going to take a quick pause for the cause as we go backstage. Stay tuned because we’ll be right back!”

Just outside the arena a camera catches Elijah Carlson, dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a New York Yankees t-shirt, walking towards the building with a bag full of his gear slung over his shoulder and a pair of jet black sunglasses covering his eyes. As he gets near security he offers the employee a smile and a handshake as his credentials are quickly checked and he’s waved in. The moment he’s through security, though, Gabriel Hartman is there waiting for him. For a moment it looks as though Eli is ready to snap on the reporter who only looks halfway homeless anymore but instead he takes a deep breath and approaches him calmly.

CARLSON: ”Hey Gabe, what’s up? Is everything okay? Building on fire? What’s so urgent this couldn’t wait until I got settled in?”

Hartman seems thrown off by the fact that someone was actually asking him a question instead of just yelling at him, telling him he was awful, threatening to plunder his backside or do other horrible things to him. When he collects himself he simply shrugs.

HARTMAN: ”Errr… oh. Sorry Eli. I was out here just, you know… well no you don’t but let’s just leave it at that okay? I thought you weren’t going to show up tonight!”

With a shrug, Eli brushes off the question.

CARLSON: ”Why wouldn’t I be here? My wife has a big match tonight and what kind of husband would I be if I didn’t support her in her quest to get embarrassed by me at South Beach Brawl?”

He winked at Hartman playfully and went to brush past him before the interviewer stopped him by putting a hand on his chest. A half moment later he jerked his hand away, recognizing what he had done, and apologized quickly.

CARLSON: ”Chill, Gabe. Nothing to worry about. Did you have another question?”

HARTMAN: ”Erm. So you’re not going to compete tonight in the main event?”

Bringing a hand to his chin, Eli scratched at his beard thoughtfully before responding.

CARLSON: ”Why don’t we see what the night has in store, yeah? It’ll be a surprise.”

Without another word, Eli brushed by the reporter and headed deeper into the arena, leaving Hartman confused and likely, the fans in attendance and at home as well.

OPENING MATCH
NO HOLDS BARRED
JASON CASHE VS. DAKOTA SMITH

VASSA: ”Things are heating up right from the jump ladies and gentlemen.”

JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen some pretty impressive opening matches over the years but this upcoming one could very well be at the top of the list by the time it’s all said and done.”

VASSA: ”You’re not going to get any argument from me! Two 4CW legends in the making going head to head right here in Charlotte, North Carolina!”

JOHNSON: ”The fans are getting their money out of this match alone. This could main event any pay-per-view in any promotion guaranteed!”

VASSA: ”You’re only going to see it one place and that’s right here in 4CW!”

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: ”The following no holds barred contest is scheduled for one fall! Coming to the ring from Houston, Texas, weighing in at two hundred thirty pounds and standing six feet tall! He is the former three time 4CW Champion, ‘The Troubled One”, JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”

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

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

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

VASSA: ”Cashe hit a slump not too long ago but as of late, he’s been getting back in his groove and proving to be the best of all old talents on the roster.”

JOHNSON: ”He has his work cut out for him with this next opponent but Dakota has more time in 4CW under his belt than anyone else here that Cashe hasn’t faced over the recent weeks.”

VASSA: ”If Jair Hopkins hadn’t been arrested recently and still nursing a knee injury, I wouldn’t be surprised to see them throw down another time for the 4CW fans.”

JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen those two collide on numerous occasions and it never gets old. There are just some people when paired together in a match you never know what to expect and the end result can be different each and every time.”

VASSA: ”Cashe may not be in the Hall of Fame like Dakota is, but he will be one day. Just give it time.”

JOHNSON: ”If there’s one person who deserves to be right in there with Dakota look no further than Jason Cashe. He practically carried this company on his shoulders in the early stages and laid the foundation for what we have today.”

VASSA: ”Maybe Jair should set him on fire and make everyone think he’s dead. Then maybe, just maybe he’ll finally be inducted.”

“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”

“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 throughout the arena. Dakota Smith pushes his way out of the curtain, a look of disgust, and anger on his scarred face.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

He doesn’t take anytime to stop at the top of the stage instead just marching down the ramp like a man on a mission. His face twitches in an annoyed fashion as he mumbles to himself under his breath. As he reaches the bottom of the ramp he comes to a complete halt, standing motionless with his face turned to the ground. The butcher breaths start becoming heavy, and erratic – his whole body moving with each and every breath. Then right when he seemingly gets to his breaking point he lets out a blood curdling roar, slamming his fist across his chest and walking closer to the ring. He slams his fist down on the mat and distorts his head to the side, looking out over the audience like a psychopath waiting to see who stares him in the eyes.

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 former 4CW Champion and first inductee into the Hall Of Fame, ‘The Butcher’, DAKOTA SSMMIITTHH!!!”

Rolling in under the bottom rope Dakota plants his fists into the mat and pushes himself, the deranged almost animalistic snarl still firmly on his face. The butcher stalks back and forth in the ring, peering out into the audience once again until it sickens him. He jerks his face away from the audience and stares down the ref for a few moments, a devilish smile forming on his lips as he intimidates the official. A few soft chuckles slip out of Dakota as he slowly slinks back into his corner, his tongue slipping out of from behind his lips as he takes a seat in said corner.

JOHNSON: ”Just listen to the crowd! This place is insane right now.”

VASSA: ”We’ve seen Dakota go through, and put people through Hell during his time here in 4CW. He may not have the most civil methods, but he gets the job done and has made his mark within the company.”

JOHNSON: ”Although Cashe may be a three time 4CW Champion, Dakota has held the title longer than anyone else during his reign. These two men know what it’s like to be at the top of the mountain and I just know in my heart that they’ll reach that feet once again before their time is over with.”

VASSA: ”Let’s just hope that Cyrus Riddle doesn’t finally put him down for good. The man is on a mission and Dakota is locked in his sights.”

JOHNSON: ”Put him down? Are you serious? Many folks have tried but you can’t kill what’s already dead. He is the ‘God of Violence’!”

VASSA: ”With Cashe standing across the ring from him, the last thing he needs on his mind is Riddle. Cashe is more than a handful for Dakota!”

JOHNSON: ”I hope this family reunion doesn’t have any unexpected visitors. We’ve never had the pleasure of calling am match between two cousins who have been a staple in this company, synonymous with the words 4 Corners Wrestling.”

VASSA: ”Shit, my cousin still owes me two hundred bucks and if I ever see him again I’ll be sure to put this size fourteen up his ass!”

Pulling himself up to his feet, Dakota slowly cracks his neck from side to side before glaring across the ring and locking his sights on Cashe. Scratching the top of his head with both hands, Cashe leans against the corner with his eyes closed momentarily, thinking over a game plan in his head. He then snaps out of it and shoots his sights across the ring back at Dakota, locking eyes with The Butcher.

In the center of the ring, the official stands cautiously in between the two cousins. Checking in with Cashe first, the official quickly gets nod from the Troubled One. He then looks in the opposite direction, receiving a thumbs up from Dakota before he slides his finger across his chest, pretending it were a knife cutting into his flesh. With both men ready to throw down, the official quickly calls for the bell, kicking this no holds barred match into overdrive.

DING!!! DING!!!

VASSA: ”It’s time for the fun to begin!”

JOHNSON: ”I’m sure this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve witnessed a fight at a family reunion.”

Before the bell even silences, both men burst from their corners and charge towards one another. Closing in towards the center of the ring, at the same time, Cashe drops his shoulder and lunges forward towards Dakota’s stomach as Dakota leaps into the air aimed directly for Cashe’s head. Falling to his knees, Cashe slides across the mat while Dakota lands against it and fluidly rolls up to his feet. Grabbing onto the ropes with both hands, Dakota keeps himself from crashing into the corner. With a smile on his face, Dakota looks over the crowd for a short moment.

With Dakota’s attention elsewhere, Cashe quickly pops up to his feet and races in behind The Butcher. Leaping into the air with his feet aimed in front, Cashe drives them both into Dakota’s lower back with a dropkick, driving his body forward into the corner. Draping his arms over the top ropes, Dakota holds himself up while Cashe gets back to his feet behind him. Grabbing onto Dakota’s head, Cashe pulls it back before slamming it forward, face first onto the turnbuckle. Keeping the pressure on the back of Dakota’s head with both hands, Cashe then begins to drag him along the ropes, pressing his face against the top one and giving him a rope burn as they travel from one side of the ring to the other.

After making it to the other side, Cashe pulls Dakota’s face away from the ropes and his head back as far as he can. He then slams it downward but Dakota grabs onto the ropes, stopping his face from crashing into the turnbuckle just inches away from it. Dakota throws a elbow back into Cashe’s stomach, forcing him to release his hold. Quickly turning around in place, Dakota connects with a left to the side of Cashe’s jaw, knocking him back a few steps. Following up with a right, Dakota drives his fist into Cashe’s midsection, forcing him to lunge over. With his left, Dakota then swings upward with an open hand, slapping Cashe across the mouth and standing him back up. With Cashe in a slight daze, Dakota quickly spins around and then levels him with a discus clothesline, dropping down to his knees beside Cashe simultaneously.

JOHNSON: ”At least they aren’t going to take it easy on each other just because they’re cousins.”

VASSA: ”Did you expect them to?”

JOHNSON: ”Not one bit.”

On his knees beside Cashe, Dakota reaches down with both hands and wraps them around Cashe’s throat. Squeezing, Dakota begins choking Cashe as he slowly lifts his head up from the canvas. Looking down into Cashe’s eyes, Dakota holds his head up while choking him, turning his face a bright red hue. Grabbing onto Dakota’s wrists, Cashe tries to pull Dakota’s hands away from his neck but Dakota’s grip is just too tight. With a snarl, Dakota then slams Cashe’s head down, driving the back of it against the canvas. Standing to his feet, Dakota turns his back to Cashe and jogs towards the ropes. Coming back on the rebound, Dakota hits Cashe across the chest with a running knee drop, rolling completely over and fluidly back up to his feet.

Pacing the ring, Dakota circles Cashe for a short moment before moving in and pulling him up from the mat. Locking onto his wrist, Dakota goes to throw Cashe to the ropes but instead, Cashe reverses and pulls Dakota into his boot as he kicks his foot up, planting it in his stomach. Pulling Dakota’s head in between his legs, Cashe then wraps him up around the waist before lifting his feet off the mat. Dropping down to a seated position, Cashe plants Dakota’s head into the canvas with a piledriver. Dakota’s body lifelessly falls folds before falling down to his side. Rolling him over to his back, Cashe then makes the cover as the official slides in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

VASSA: ”TW–“

JOHNSON: ”NNOOOO!!!”

VASSA: ”Dakota was able to kick out just before the full two count!”

JOHNSON: ”That piledriver can be a lethal move at times but it just wasn’t enough to put The Butcher away.”

Laughing softly, Cashe brushes the hair from out of his face and then pushes himself up. Standing by Dakota’s head, Cashe then jumps straight into the air and comes down with a legdrop across Dakota’s throat, pinning his head to the mat as his feet shoot up into the air. Popping back up, Cashe repeats the move, hitting Dakota with a second leg drop across the throat. Rolling backwards, Cashe pushes himself into an ugly handstand before dropping to his feet. He then runs forward, hopping over Dakota, and heading straight for the ropes. Coming back on the rebound, Cashe leaps into the air, soaring like a bird before gravity finally pulls him down, hitting Dakota in the side of the head with a headbutt.

Rolling over to his back, Cashe covers his forehead with both hands, obviously feeling some of the effects from that headbutt himself. Slamming his fists down against the mat, Cashe shakes off the cobwebs before pushing himself up. Pulling Dakota up from the mat, he locks his hand on the back of Dakota’s head and drags him towards the edge of the ring before throwing him forward into the ropes. As Dakota’s hits the ropes, he flips over the top but quickly grabs onto the top rope, using it to pull himself close to the ring as he crashes against the apron. With Dakota now pulling himself up to his feet, Cashe turns for the opposite ropes and takes off towards them. Hitting them hard and coming back on the rebound with even more speed, Cashe drops his shoulder and dives forward just as Dakota stands, diving through the ropes and tackling Dakota off the apron. The two fly backwards through the air before Dakota crashes against the floor first, breaking the fall for Cashe.

As Dakota lays on the floor with his arms stretched out, Cashe climbs over top of him, mounting himself on his upper body. Holding Dakota’s head with his left hand, Cashe then begins pounding away at his face with vicious rights. After connecting with a couple, he then transitions the attack into elbow strikes, hitting Dakota with a few of those as well. Dropping Dakota’s head back to the floor, Cashe then raises both hands above his head, joining his hands together before swinging down with all of his strength. Suddenly, Dakota reaches upward, locking his hands on both sides of Cashe’s head, stopping his attack from progressing any further. With his thumbs, Dakota gouges Cashe’s eyes. Pulling Cashe’s head down and popping his up from the floor, Dakota hits Cashe with headbutt in the center of his forehead, stunning him. Rolling over, he then pushes Cashe off of him and down to the floor.

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know how he does it. Just when you think you have Dakota right where you want him, he always manages to find a way to escape.”

VASSA: ”Cashe was putting a hurting on him. Luckily for Dakota, this is a no holds barred match and thumbs to the eyes are perfectly legal.”

JOHNSON: ”He has a chance to turn things around right here if he can just get to his feet before Cashe does.”

Both men slowly begin to stir and climb to their feet. With Cashe somewhat blinded at the moment, Dakota manages to rise first and quickly moves in before Cashe can make any sudden moves. With Cashe up to one knee already, Dakota pulls him up to his feet before driving his knee into Cashe’s stomach. Grabbing onto Cashe’s wrist, Dakota then whips him into the steel barricade. As Cashe’s back hits the barricade, he bounces off and stumbles forward into Dakota’s arms. Dakota then pushes forward, driving Cashe back and slamming him into the barricade once again. Turning Cashe around, Dakota lifts him into the air before dropping him face first onto the top of the barricade. As Cashe’s body leans against the barricade, Dakota steps in beside him and pulls him straight up before dropping him backwards with a Russian leg sweep. Rolling over top of Cashe, Dakota goes for the pin as the official races in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

VASSA: ”Cashe dodged a bullet there.”

JOHNSON: ”He did but the use of foreign objects in these matches always tend to have lingering effects.”

VASSA: ”It’s just another element that I know for a fact these two have adapted to easily.”

Growling at the official, Dakota stands to his feet and argues the count, intimidating the official but not overturning the call. He then turns back to Cashe and reaches down, locking his hand around Cashe’s forearm and pulling him up to his feet. Dragging Cashe away from the barricade, Dakota then goes to whip him at the nearby ringside steps. Before Dakota releases, Cashe reverses and pulls Dakota in for a short-arm clothesline.

JOHNSON: ”Reversal from Cashe!”

VASSA: ”Hold up a second!”

Ducking underneath the clothesline, Dakota steps in behind Cashe and quickly spins around. Grabbing ahold of The Troubled One, Dakota wraps both arms around his waist before lifting him into the air and falling back, driving Cashe into the side of the ring with a German suplex. With Cashe’s body folded over and leaning against the side of the ring, Dakota rises back to his feet. Kicking Cashe’s legs over and uncovering his face, Dakota then grabs onto the ropes above his head and pulls himself up to the apron. He then drops down and slams his foot across Cashe’s throat. Pulling Cashe up from the floor, Dakota then whips him into the nearby steps, knocking them over as his body collides into them.

Dragging Cashe away from the steps, Dakota then pulls him up and rolls him back into the ring. Pulling himself up onto the apron, Dakota walks over to the corner and then slowly climbs to the top. Looking over the entire ring from above, Dakota waits patiently as Cashe slowly begins to stir. Pushing himself up, Cashe is unaware of Dakota’s whereabouts but as soon as he turns to face him, his eyes light up. Leaping from the top, Dakota extends his right leg, aiming his boot for Cashe’s face. Ducking out of the way, Cashe avoids the collision as Dakota manages to land safely on his feet.

The two then quickly turn to face each other, both in attack mode and ready to trip the other apart. Running forward, Dakota hits Cashe with a forearm shot to the head. Firing back, Cashe stomps on Dakota’s toe and then follows up with an elbow to the midsection. Just as he lunges over, Dakota pops back up, connecting with a European uppercut that sends Cashe stumbling backwards into the ropes. Bouncing off, Cashe dives forward, hitting Dakota in the face with a stiff striking elbow.

JOHNSON: ”Mark of Jason!”

VASSA: ”Out of nowhere and couldn’t have planned it any better if he even tried to.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know if that’s going to be enough…”

Rolling across the ring, Dakota isn’t quite out of it. On his knees, Cashe looks on in disbelief but that quickly turns to anger. Pushing himself up, Dakota looks straight ahead, revealing the lower half of his face to be covered in crimson as blood pours from his nose. Licking his lips, Dakota appears to enjoy the taste of his own blood as Cashe looks on with a bit of disgust. The Butcher then rises to his feet and points to Cashe with a sinister grin on his face.

VASSA: ”I think that Mark of Jason didn’t do anything but wake Dakota up.”

JOHNSON: ”These two are in for a fight and these are the kind of fights that Cashe seeks.”

VASSA: ”Well, there isn’t anything left to do other than get to it. TEAR EACH OTHER APART!!!”

Cashe and Dakota slowly approach each other, hands eager to be beat up by the others face. The noise level in the arena grows louder and louder as the two circle one another. Growling, Dakota wipes the blood from his mouth before flicking it in Cashe’s direction. Cashe then yells back in return as the excitement overtakes him, pounding his chest with both hands.

CASHE: ”RRRAAAWWWRRR!!! LIGHT THAT SHIT UP!!!”

Just as the two are about to lock up, the noise level elevates even higher as Cyrus Riddle runs out from the back and charges down the entrance ramp.

JOHNSON: ”It’s Cyrus Riddle and he’s come for Dakota!”

VASSA: ”What’s he thinking?! There’s unsettled beef between him and Cashe still. He’s walking into an ambush!”

Cashe and Dakota quickly turn their attention to the ramp where Cyrus comes into full focus. Sliding into the ring, Cysur pops up to his feet and immediately Dakota grows furious at the sight. Cashe begins mouthing off to the Englishman, pointing to the back and signaling for him to stay out of his business.

VASSA: ”Neither Cashe nor Dakota seem happy to see Cyrus out here.”

JOHNSON: ”All Cyrus cares about is getting his hands on Dakota. I don’t think he’s even considering what might happen with Cashe in the mix.”

Cashe and Dakota stand side by side, somewhat united as they anticipate Cyrus’ attack.

VASSA: ”The two cousins seem like they’ve forgotten about their match all together. Cyrus has found himself in the middle of a dog fight and both dogs have a thirst for blood.”

Standing guard, Cyrus’ eyes shift back and forth between Cashe and Dakota as the two cousins slowly step in and close the gap between the three.

JOHNSON: ”You still have a chance to get out of there Cyrus. What are you doing?!”

As familiar face then slides into the ring behind Dakota and Cashe, forcing the fans to erupt and the noise level to rise even more.

VASSA: ”What’s he doi–“

JOHNSON: ”It’s Shane Clemmens!”

VASSA: ”It’s a level playing field now!”

CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!

With a steel chair in hand, Clemmens swats Cashe over the back of the head with it, knocking him forward into the nearest corner. Pushing himself off sluggishly, Cashe slowly turns around as Clemmens looks on with the chair still gripped firmly in his hands. Cyrus then moves in as Dakota is distracted and hits him with three European uppercuts in a row. With Dakota off balance, Cyrus kicks him in the stomach, forcing him to buckle over. He then steps in and wraps his arms around Dakota’s waist before lifting him into the air upside down. Clemmens tosses the chair to Cashe and as he catches it, Clemmens slides in and superkicks the chair into Cashe’s face, knocking him back into the corner.

CCCRRRAAACCCKKK!!!

JOHNSON: ”Shoot to Thrill!”

VASSA: ”Play to kill!”

Cyrus then drops Dakota on his head with a sit-down piledriver.

TTTHHHUUUDDD!!!

JOHNSON: ”Darkness falls!”

VASSA: ”Dakota, you know better than to take your eyes off of him!”

Clemmens then pulls Cashe away from the corner before pushing him in Dakota’s direction. Falling face first into the canvas, Cashe drops beside Dakota as the official looks on, unable to do anything about it.

JOHNSON: ”Given the rules of this match, this is perfectly legal.”

VASSA: ”Both competitors have been taken out. How is this legal?!”

Clemmens and Cyrus then look to each other as the crowd waits in anticipation for what may happen next. With a shrug of the shoulders, Clemmens then turns his back to it all and dips through the ropes before hopping the barricade and joining the fans in attendance. Looking down at the mess in front of him, Cyrus kneels down beside Dakota and whispers where only he can hear it. He then stands back up and exits the ring before making his way back up the ramp and disappearing into the back.

VASSA: ”I’m going to guess that since there are no disqualifications, then there aren’t any counts for both wrestlers being down, right?”

JOHNSON: ”That would be correct, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”Both Cyrus and Clemmens have ruined what was destined to be an epic match that people would always remember.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m just as bummed out about this as you are. I wanted to see these two fight till the bitter end but here we are.”

The official looks on, patiently waiting as both men are down. Blood is smeared across the mat by Dakota’s head. After nearly half a minute passes, Cashe then shows signs of life as he extends his arm, draping it over Dakota’s body.

VASSA: ”He’s alive!”

JOHNSON: ”Out of nowhere Cashe comes to life long enough to make the cover!”

Catching the official off guard as he looks around the arena, the arm over Dakota’s body draws his attention. Dropping down beside the two, the official then begins to count as Cashe has the position over Dakota.

ONE

.

.

VASSA: ”This is it!”

TWO

.

.

JOHNSON: ”I don’t kn–“

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”CASHE WINS IT!!!”

JOHNSON: ”That a wrap ladies and gents! Jason Cashe somehow managed to pull off the victory here tonight after he and Dakota were both taken out.”

Kneeling down beside Cashe, the official grabs his arm and pulls it off of Dakota before raising it into the air.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, JASON CCAASSHHEE!!!”

The official then drops Cashe’s arm as both Cashe and Dakota remain down and out of it.

JOHNSON: ”This didn’t quite end as we had hoped, but nonetheless, Jason Cashe has one over his cousin after a hard fought contest here tonight.”

VASSA: ”With how this thing ended, there just has to be a second match between these two. The fans and myself are somewhat disappointed with the final result here and how it happened.”

JOHNSON: ”Knowing these two, I highly doubt a rematch is on their minds right now. The targets on both Cyrus and Clemmens’ backs just grew a little larger after their actions here tonight.”

VASSA: ”Dakota and Cyrus are going to end up killing each other by the time this thing is all said and done.”

JOHNSON: ”The same with Cashe and Clemmens, well, without the killing part. Clemmens called Cashe out a few weeks back and then Cashe answered. After tonight’s physical encounter, things have gotten a little more serious between this rivalry of theirs.”

VASSA: ”With South Beach Brawl right around the corner, all four of these men will have the chance to settle their differences once and for all. I just hope they can make it to Miami before things get too far out of hand.”

JOHNSON: ”We only have four more weeks until 4CW’s biggest party of the year.”

VASSA: ”More like wrestling’s biggest party of the year. Name one other event out there that can even measure up against South Beach Brawl. I’ll wait.”

JOHNSON: ”Right off the top of my head I cant. But let’s go backstage now and maybe when we come back I’ll have an answer for you.”

VASSA: ”I doubt it because a lot of stuff we see from other places today is straight up booshit!”

We take you to the backstage area as we see Keegan Ryan getting ready for his match against Keaton Saint. He stretched a little he then looked at the camera with a big smile on his face.

RYAN: ”Tonight, is the night that I will prove I belong here and that I will take Keaton Saint down. Everyone is going to witness a massacre tonight and everyone will take notice.”

Keegan walked over to the curtain to the entrance he stopped as he looked at it knowing it’s do or die time he still kept that smile on his face.

RYAN: ”Get ready Saint, cause tonight is your last night here.”

Keegan waited at the curtain as the scene switched over for the next match.

UNDERCARD
KEEGAN RYAN VS. KEATON SAINT

JOHNSON: ”A night of debuts for these two men, what better way than to pit them against each other?”

VASSA: ”Perry is always trying to test out the new blood, this is a sink or swim moment right here.”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed, Keaton Saint and Keegan Ryan will both be making their debuts tonight. A win here could be the start of something great!”

VASSA: ”You never know, could be looking at a future 4CW champion in this match.”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed!”

VASSA: ”Probably not, though…”

“STARTARIOT

STARTARIOT”

As the second verse was said the lights came on and Keegan Ryan is standing on the entrance ramp which gave the crowds a real heated reaction as Keegan just shrugged his shoulder and walked down the ramp.

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

“You can cut me, knife me, shoot me, jab me carve me up and stab me but you’ll never defeat me,

You can shoot me, blast me, gun me down, try to put me underground you’ll never defeat me,

I’ve got an army on my back and if we’re under attack you better be fucking ready,

Undeniable unity in the metal community and we’re coming to bury”

POWERS: ”Coming down to the ring, from Santa Fa New Mexico. Weighing at two-hundred and twenty-five pounds The New Mexico Madman KEEGAN RRYYAANN!!!”

He continued on down the ramp as he stopped to look at the fan who is giving him hell. He flipped that fan off as he gave a big smirk as he walked off from that fan.

“Fuck peace and quiet, let’s start a riot

Psycho or psychotic, let’s start a riot

Fuck peace be violent, let’s start a riot

Psycho or psychotic, get nuts and start a riot”

He walked up the steel stairs he went through the second rope. He walked over to the left turnbuckle as he stands there soaking in all the booing the crowds are giving him as he waits on.

JOHNSON: ”Here comes Keegan Ryan, who has certainly been around. He’s finally made his way to 4CW, and it looks like the crowd is letting him know how they feel about that.”

VASSA: ”Where’s his girlfriend? Didn’t she drop a pipe bomb here once?”

JOHNSON: ”Oh, be quiet Vinny!”

VASSA: ”Sorry, I was hacked.”

“In the end you’ll know my name”

The arena lights begin to flash in tune with the drumbeat of “King” by Saint PHNX, signifying the arrival of Keaton Saint who makes his presence felt at the top of the ramp.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

Saint looks out to the arena crowd, taking in the atmosphere before concentrating on the ring.

“I just want to scream

That nothing’s what it seems

I’ll just keep believing

One day I’ll be king

Say it loud enough

I ain’t going nowhere

You can’t break me down

One day I’ll be king”

Saint progresses to the ring, taking time to acknowledge his supporters and exchange high-fives and respect.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring from London, England and weighing in at two hundred and fourty eight pounds. He is known as the Patron Saint of Professional Wrestling, he is KEATON SSAAIINNTT!!!”

Saint enters the ring and stretches himself, testing the tautness of the ropes before going to a corner and preparing himself for the upcoming match.

JOHNSON: ”Not much is known about Keaton Saint, he’s been a competitor off and on since 2008. Hopefully his in ring experience will help him out here tonight.”

VASSA: ”Interesting match up here, I’m gonna put my money on Keegan though.”

JOHNSON: ”Why is that, Vinny?”

VASSA: ”I dunno, he just looks crazy. Always bet on the crazy ones.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Keegan charges out of his corner first, crossing the ring in a blink looking to catch Keaton Saint off guard. Keaton is taken by surprised, clobbered by a running Forearm before he can even get out of the corner. His head snaps back, but he is able to retaliate. Keegan goes for another attack, Keaton gets his boot up in time and catches Keegan right in the jaw. Keegan Ryan stumbles back, falling to his knee as Keaton observes his opponent.

Keegan gets back to his feet just in time to be on the receiving end of a belly-to-back suplex from Keaton. Keaton pulls him back up quickly only to hit him with a short arm clothesline. The New Mexico Madman doesn’t stay down for long though. Keegan finally manages to catch Keaton with a drop toe hold and buys himself time to get up again. Ryan hits the ropes and comes back for a baseball slide kick that catches Keaton in the ribs.

JOHNSON: ”Keaton Saint starting off strong, but Keegan Ryan is taking it to him.”

VASSA: ”He’s not going to be put away that easy.”

Keaton gets back to his feet with determination in his eyes and studies his opponent for a few seconds more. Keegan sees it as an opening and lunges in. Keaton takes him down with a quick arm drag. Ryan comes in again and this time Keaton hits a hip toss that sends Keegan clean across the ring.

Ryan still gets back up, flying back with such tenacity that he’s able to fire off a snap DDT that catches Keaton by surprise. Keegan drops to hook the leg. Logan Whitby is there in a flash for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Keegan pounds the mat in frustration and goes to pull Keaton up, but Keaton sends him backwards with an Elbow Smash. He is up in a flash and catches Ryan with a Snap Suplex as Keegan tries to rush him before he can regain his footing. Nothing if not resilient, Keegan gets right back up, looking for more of a fight. Keaton smiles, as the two take their time squaring up yet again.

JOHNSON: ”It looks like that ring experience is kicking in, Keegan keeps getting caught here.”

VASSA: ”He sure is resilient though.”

This time it is Keaton who presses the offensive, stepping in unexpectedly and hitting a European Uppercut that drives Keegan right back into the nearest corner! He wastes no time and lays an open hand chop across Keegan’s chest. He hits a second! Hauling back, he pauses just a moment and then hits the third that echoes through the Spectrum Center. We can see the pain in Keegan’s face, his chest becoming bright red from the open hand slaps. Keaton goes again for another, but Keegan buys some time with a right hand that stumbles Keaton backwards!

Keegan surges forward, knocking Keaton to the mat with a Thesz press. The two struggle for a moment before Keegan is able to take the mounted position. He draws back as far as he can and sends a punch right at the Keaton’s head… But Keaton Saint is able to move at the last second. Keegan drives his fist into the mat at full force!

JOHNSON: ”Ouch! That’s got to hurt!”

VASSA: ”You have another hand, Keegan! Walk it off!”

The pain is evident on his face as he rolls off of Keaton clutching his hand. Keaton shakes his head as he watches. Still holding his injured hand close to his chest, Ryan pushes up onto his knees. Keaton steps in and hits a huge Dropkick that absolutely flattens Keegan! The move gives Keaton enough time to think things out. He picks Keegan up, and drops him to the mat with a beautiful German Suplex! Keaton holds on, creating a bridge as he goes for the pinfall!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Somehow Keegan gets the shoulder up and the match continues. The two men are back up, Keegan connecting with a right hand. Running on sheer determination Keegan throws himself forward, managing to catch Keaton for a running bulldog! He starts to float around for the pin but Keaton is already moving to stand again. A stiff kick into the side leaves Keegan winded and on his knees. Keaton takes the rare moment to get the crowd pumped up, as he’s feeling the match under his control.

JOHNSON: ”Keaton Saint is in control of this one, he could be feeling the end coming here.”

VASSA: ”Is it too late to change my bet?”

Keegan staggers to his feet while Keaton waits for him to stand. Just as Keaton reaches out Keegan sends a kick right into his gut! The blow lands but the Keaton Saint manages to catch Keegan’s foot before he can pull it back. Ryan hops up and goes for the enziguri, but Keaton ducks and counters into a Dragon Screw that whips Keegan right into the mat! In one fluid motion he transitions into a Japanese Stranglehold submission, modified to combine with a Camel Clutch!

JOHNSON: ”And that’s the Keaton Clutch! Keegan Ryan is in trouble here!”

VASSA: ”Oh man, he’s got that in deep!”

JOHNSON: ”Keegan is doing whatever he can to get out of this hold, I don’t know if there’s anything he can do.”

VASSA: ”I have one idea, tap out!”

Keegan stretches his arm toward the ropes, coming up just a few inches shy. He shakes his head furiously as Logan Whitby asks him if he wants to give up. Gritting his teeth he tries to worm his way towards the nearby ropes. The move doesn’t allow for much movement, so he tries to turn his body. His legs are longer, and could possibly reach the nearby bottom rope if he can stretch it out!

Sensing what his opponent is about to do, Keaton goes to pull Keegan away from the ropes. Keegan’s face lights up in pain, the hold quickly becoming way too much for him! With nowhere to go he has no choice but to give up!

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

POWERS: “Here is your winner, KEATON SSAAIINNTT!!!”

“King” begins to play, as Keaton Saint gets his hand raised in victory. Keegan Ryan stays on the mat, holding his neck as Logan Whitby checks on him. Keaton says nothing, looking at his opponent for a moment. Soon enough though he clears the ring, heading towards the back as he looks into the camera.

JOHNSON: ”Impressive display by Keaton Saint here tonight! He gets the victory in his debut!”

VASSA: ”Keegan Ryan kept coming at him, but Keaton had a counter for almost everything.”

JOHNSON: ”Indeed he did, a very good showing here.”

VASSA: ”Be on the lookout for this guy, if he keeps performing like that there is no telling what he could achieve.”

Heading backstage we find ourselves watching as Jett Wilder chows down on a bag of Potato chips. Never one for the best of pre-match meals though at his age, able to get away with it. Looking focused for what is a big night ahead for him, he stops when he appears to see someone coming the other way. Just as he has placed a handful of chips into his mouth.

WILDER: ”Oh hey Alexis.”

The word’s hardly seeming like English as he talks with his mouth full. When he finally finishes chewing he continues, Alexis seeming caught off guard by having run into the person she had set up a potential alliance with.

WILDER: ”Ready for the battle royal?”

Alexis stops in her tracks, turning to him. A smile foams on both corners of her mouth while looking at Jett Wilder inside knowing this could be either of their chances.

MORRISON: “Yeah. I’ve been preparing myself in the gyms here for whatever this battle royal throws. Have to be ready for anything. I’ve been going over the list of everyone that’s going to be in this thing. And we need to get rid of Niobe first. She’s a former 4CW Fate Champion. Plus, the girl knows how to survive when it counts.”

She crosses her arms.

MORRISON: “What do you think Jett?”

Shaking his head, he doesn’t seem too totally agree.

WILDER: ”This Mariano twirp may be a problem. Think we need to get rid of him, plus Niobe was champ ages ago. This Mariano guy been talking all sorts of trash, plus I am sure you wouldn’t mind some revenge for All or Nothing.”

Jett tosses this out there, hoping she’ll go for it.

MORRISON: ”Alright. Mariano does seem like a bigger problem and the biggest threat of winning our match. We can do that. Sure.”

She says uncrossing her arms. Jett nods his head more than happy she is willing to take out his biggest enemy in the match.

WILDER: ”Than we can take out Niobe. That old dude Cliff won’t be a problem after like five minute, be like a bag of bones over the top. Than we got that crazy guy Raab. But nothing we can’t handle…Than it is just you and I.”

Jett referencing the inevitable, knowing at the end of the day even if they work together only one can win. The tension high due to it. Alexis too saw the importance that match could do to their careers winning this could open up doors. She eyes Jett.

MORRISON: ”As long as no one gets too cocky and starts doing the one person army thinking they can eliminating others themselves. Right Jett?”

Alexis cocked her head and lifted her eyebrows almost smirking, as if knowing Jett was the type to break off the team and do something stupid, something immature.

WILDER: ”I’m sure we’ll work great as a team, and when it’s all said and done? We’ll handle it one on one, and see who really deserves it.”

Jett extends a hand out to Alexis the two shaking hands, both knowing the wise play is probably to stab each other in the back. But at least for now on the same page, as Jett holds up the chips as an offer to ease the tension. Chips. The worldwide symbol of partnership, Alexis bends her arm bringing her hand to rest across her chin while she thought about the offer.

MORRISON: ”To partners.”

Alexis reaches in grabbing a potato chip, eating the salty treat within seconds, adding a smile knowing she could be looking at one of the final two. Alexis understood that after eliminating everyone else from the match if things go smoothly. It could come down to her and Jett.

Heading back to the ring, it’s now covered with a black drape. In the middle of the ring sits a foosball table meaning it’s time for the second and perhaps final part of the best of three series between Wilder and Marquis. Standing already in the ring, is the same poor schmuck who refereed last week. Not long, “Blessings” by Big Sean hits as the fans begin to boo. Out walks Jett Wilder, hoisting a Uno Championship over his shoulder. Again on his own, leaving behind his mother and bodyguard as he walks towards the ring.

JOHNSON: ”Well, so it continues round two here tonight, as Jett and Marquis prepare to do battle in Foosball…”

VASSA: ”He is proudly hoisting the ORIGINAL Uno championship belt. Often imitated, never duplicated…”

Jett, looking just as focused as he was last week. Walking past the booing crowd, he looks in; readying his hands to spin strong. He steps into the ring. He stands next to the table giving them a few spins to ensure they are set, as while the crowd reacts negatively toward his caution.

JOHNSON: ”You know, this is a complete waste of time, but I still can’t believe this crowd.”

VASSA: ”What do you mean, what about the crowd?”

JOHNSON: ”Jett Wilder was literally betrayed and no one in the crowd can find an ounce of sympathy in their hearts to stand behind him in support?”

VASSA: ”No one is going to support him because Jett’s a little douche, you know that.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know…”

VASSA: ”Wait a second, what are you even saying here?.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know! Just, I guess I’m saying is that Jett isn’t the bad guy here. He was the one who was hurt. I’m on Jett’s side.”

VASSA: ”Oh my God, are you saying-.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m ‘Wet for Jett’, yes.”

Vassa gasps at this confession, while in the ring, Jett changes his glance from the table to the top of the ramp as “Loyal” by Chris Brown starts up.

Persephone Marquis come from the back and heads straight for the ring, ignoring the fans on both sides of her screaming in both of her ears. Climbing the ringside steps, he looks over the ropes and into the ring at Jett who proudly holds the Uno Championship. Dipping through the ropes, she enters the ring before slowly approaching the center.

JOHNSON: ”And here comes Persephone Marquis, looking for redemption after her huge loss last Adrenaline. Considering her mentality, I don’t think she’s going to succeed here tonight. Any thoughts, Vassa?”

VASSA: ”I have nothing to say to you right now. I’m speechless.”

The crowd gives a mix reaction, most cheers to see the young Jett fail. Persephone walks into the ring and wastes no time in finding the perfect spot on the table. Jett, however, waves her away.

WILDER: ”Since I won the first competition in this series, I get to pick my side of the table first!”

Marquis looks at the referee who shrugs. Marquis rolls, stepping back and motions to the table with an impatient jerk.

MARQUIS: ”Pick your spot then!”

WILDER: ”Okay, but first, let me find somewhere to set my Uno title.”

Jett clearly looking to rub it in as he pretends to struggle to find a spot for quite a long time. The referee stares at the young champion incredulously, the thought of this being longer than it has to be quickly making him despite his profession. Finally, Jett chooses a location, draping his belt over the corner post.

He head back over to the table, taking a long hard look at it before meeting Marquis’ eyes as he takes the side she had chose, his hands wrapped around what she had deemed the perfect knobs. She scowls, heading to the other side before she quips at him.

MARQUIS: ”Are you done? Comfortable? Ready to go?”

Jett releases his hold and places a finger on his chin, thinking deeply before snapping his fingers in realization.

WILDER: ”My boots! Thanks for reminding me.”

And Jett drops to a knee to fidget at the shoes just to get on Marquis’ nerves. It works, because she groans watching Jett untie his boots only to pretend to be confused as he tries to knot them up once again. The referee decides to step in.

REFEREE: ”Alright, alright! Let’s get this game going, okay?”

WILDER: ”I’m tying my boots here! Give me a minute. Matter of fact, tie them yourself. Fix up the boots of your Uno Champion.”

The referee closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He drops down and ties Jett’s boots quickly before rising once again and instructing the game to start. Marquis watches Jett get into position, her chin resting in her hands with patience, giving a minute to make sure Jett was ready.

MARQUIS: ”We’re good now? Alright, prepare to get your ass beaten, son. Don’t be upset, though, sometimes daddy has to teach some lessons.”

Marquis gets in position herself, grabbing onto the handles and glaring at Jett. Jett glares back.

WILDER: ”You wish you were able to produce anything half as good as me.”

REFEREE: ”Okay, to win the game, you must get five points. No spinning, no spitting. Understand? Don’t answer. I don’t need either of you to nod. We’re starting this now.”

DING!!! DING!!!

The referee calls for the bell, giving the small ball to Jett to respect the rules of him going first to due to the previous competition. Jett looking full of confidence proceeds to roll the ball around than try to toss it in when Marquis is least expecting it. But with one of the hardest spins imaginable to foosball she scores on the very first kick, with a shot that actually makes a noticeable thud sound. Leaving the ref shocked and Jett looking for answers if that was legal.

One for Persephone.

WILDER: ”I wasn’t ready!”

Jett tries to argue the call but the referee puts the point up anyways as a now confident Marquis takes the ball, her turn to go first. Dropping it in with some built in confidence after the first shot, as the two go back and forth. Spinning like their lives depend on it, Jett nearly scoring seeming ready to celebrate before a good goalie save sends it the other way right into a kick by Marquis for a second goal. Jett backing from the table to collect his wits.

Two for Persephone.

MARQUIS: ”What’s wrong, Jett? Need a second or three, want me to call your mother so she can get out here and make you feel better?”

Jett glares at Marquis, saying nothing and finally looking focused as he approaches the table once more. The only cheers can be heard from the Wet for Jett section, which is finally making everyone aware of their presence. Marquis glares back as she drops the ball back in.

For once, the referee looks interested in something he is officiating. The crowd is on the edge of their seats and Johnson is at his table, biting at his nails while Vassa rolls his eyes at him. Everyone hears one hard jerk and a goal, earning sounds from everyone in attendance as they wait for the referee to call the point.

One for Jett.

JOHNSON: ”Jett is closing in for the lead!”

VASSA: ”He literally just made one point. How are you calling that a catch up?”

JOHNSON: ”You’re just being a hater.”

VASSA: ”Listen, I’m not a fan of this. I’m supposed to be obnoxious. What the fuck is going on here?”

JOHNSON: ”What’s going on here is that Jett is coming to beat Marquis, once again.”

Marquis, however, doesn’t seem worried as she motions for Jett to drop the ball. Jett now with some confidence off of scoring the goal, tosses it back into play. Furious spins flying as both competitors, start to break a sweat. Jett takes a spin that clearly misses, by his frantic reaction as Marquis slams a third ball to the back of the net.

Three for Persephone.

Not letting Jett rest for a moment, Marquis takes the ball out and rushes it back into play. They again go back and forth, Jett putting it all into every single spin. Marquis taking a methodical approach, bouncing it off the wall and into a scoring position as she cracks it home for a fourth goal!

Four for Persephone.

Jett walks away from the table angrily kicking at the ropes, the fans enjoying seeing his meltdown commence, as he finds himself in what die hard foosball enthusiasts would call a near impossible come back position.

JOHNSON: ”Jett is in dire straights here, needing a four point swing as Marquis battles for game point!”

VASSA: ”Think she will retaliate with a belt of her own?”

Jett takes a second before walking back, complaining to the referee that he needs chalk for his hands.

WILDER: ”I need chalk, my side is slippery. This is not right.”

Looking for answers, it seems to suddenly pop into Jett’s head what he needs to do as he calls a timeout. The referee is unsure if this is legal or if there is even rule’s but allows it anyways.

Jett takes a second before walking back, complaining to the referee that he needs chalk for his hands.

WILDER: ”Thank you ref, just wanted to take a second to remind Marquis. About a little something.”

Reaching into his pocket he tosses, something at Marquis. When she catches it and opens her hands it is revealed to be a piece of the yet to be released album from Niall Horan. She stars at the broken pieces of the album in her hands, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in the face of such disrespect. She looks back at the grinning Jett.

MARQUIS: ”What the fuck is wrong with you!? You know I love Niall!”

And despite the exclamation of her love, she throws the shard at Jett, who dodges it out. Marquis stomps her feet and breathes heavily, as if she’s going to swing on the young champion. She doesn’t, instead she takes a deep breath and scowls, narrowing her eyes at Jett.

MARQUIS: ”You’re just a fucking asshole, you know that? I’m glad I stabbed you in the back. I would do that shit again without any hesitation, maybe make sure you actually get the loss next time. You know why? Because you deserve it. You don’t deserve friends, you deserve to be constantly fucked over. I’m glad you trusted me, because it’s going to make beating your ass that much sweeter, you little fuck.”

Marquis puts the small ball onto the table before grabbing onto the handles, ready to start the game once again.

MARQUIS: ”Now get over here and take your loss. A little preview for how daddy is going to treat you during our match. Let’s go.”

Jett feeling as though he properly angered Marquis enough to throw her off in this foosball match steps back up to the plate. Grabbing hold of his levers, the two staring each other down from across the table. The ball is dropped as the spins go wild, once more the ball going back and forth. Some of the crowd returning from concessions to question if this seriously has yet to end. But after a few huge hits, Marquis lets out a grunt filled with the rage from seeing that Niall CD broken. The ball sails off Jett’s goalie and into the back of the foosball table for the score. The referee way to into this, raising Marquis’s arm immediately. Wet for Jett section clearly feeling a bit dampened after this defeat as the rest of the crowd goes wild.

Five for Persephone.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner and the FIRST Undisputed Foosball Champion of 4CW… PERSEPHONE MMAARRQQUUIISS!!!”

Jett falls to his knees, crushed with the agony of defeat as Marquis walks around the ring with the referee holding her arm in the air. Both looking exhausted like they just competed in a sixty minute iron man match.

JOHNSON: ”Marquis with a dominating victory here tonight. Really have to question if the spinners were really Wet for Jett. But none the less we all know what this means, we will have a third and ultimately decisive WRESTLING match inside the ring.”

VASSA: ”Still can’t believe you said it…”

Marquis walks around letting the ref drop her hand, as Jett rolls under the ropes. He trudges up the ramp as he glances back holding his Uno belt. Forced to watch as Marquis taunts him with the five to one score here in this foosball match. Jett quickly looks away not wanting to deal with this knowing that later in the night he has a hugely important Fate Number One Contender match. As Marquis continues to celebrate as we all now await the deciding match.

The camera zooms in on Johnny Evil who has a piece of folded up paper in his hand. He approaches Tanners locker room and turns the handle, pushing the door open in an aggressive manner, almost startling Adrian, who is sitting on the floor doing stretches to warm up for his match later tonight. Tanner takes notice to Johnny and climbs to his feet, giving him a look.

TANNER: ”For someone who hates me you sure do love showing up at my door-step.”

Johnny doesn’t say anything, he just smirks as Tanner looks at him awkwardly.

TANNER: ”Let me guess, you’re here to tell me about how superior you are because I’m out of the Cup and you aren’t. By now, I could care less, and as much as I hate you I hope you kick Genie into an even worse level of stupidity, because god knows if there’s anyone who deserves it it’s her.”

Johnny’s smirk turns to a frown.

EVIL: ”I wasn’t gonna’ say anything. That’s the problem with everyone in this piece of shit company. They always assume they know what you’re gonna’ say next! How in the hell don’t you know if I was gonna’ come in here with some good news for you or not?”

TANNER: ”Cause that’s not your M.O, Mister ‘I want to burn the world to the ground.”

Johnny shakes his head in disappointment. After a moment, he hands the folded up paper in Tanner’s direction. Tanner grabs it and unfolds it, looking at it in annoyance for a second. He turns it toward Johnny, allowing the camera to get a view of what is on the paper. The word Champion is written across it.

TANNER: ”What is this bullshit?”

EVIL: ”Well, I figured since you got knocked out of the tournament and you didn’t really have a good run as the XTV Champion and people just give people titles and opportunities in this shithole, you at least deserved something. So, I gave you ‘The Paper Championship’. Feel free to defend it any time you like!!”

With a look of insult which almost instantly turns to anger, Tanner rips it up and tosses it back in Johnny’s face. This causes Evil to reply with a sarcastic tone to his voice.

EVIL: ”You don’t know how long it took to design that. Every letter on that championship was crafted with such exquisite detail…

TANNER: Evil… (Tanner gives off a sigh of anger as if he was ready to punch Johnny in the mouth.) ”Just get the fuck away from me…”

Johnny grows a frustrated look on his face and drops his head in disappointment as he exits the locker room, leaving the camera to focus on Tanner as he looks down at the ripped up paper on the floor.

TANNER: ”Of course you know, this means war…”

UNDERCARD
VIDUUS MORTA VS. KIBA BUNSON

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

Viddus Morta’s music hits and the arena goes completely black. AS the lyrics begin four different fire explosions keep firing in the air on each side. Viduus walks out slowly on pace with the music 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.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring, from Parts Unknown, weighing in at one hundred ninety-five pounds… VIDUUS MMOORRTTAA!!!”

Viduus makes his way to the ring almost floating in the way he walks and moves his shoulders in stride. Viduus slides into the ring and crawls to the middle of the ring the insert here slithering across the ring with him. Viduus rises and awaits his opponent in the center of the ring.

JOHNSON: ”Well Viduus may have bitten off more than he can chew with Sativa Nevaeh, given what happened two weeks ago!!”

VASSA: ”Of course he did, Sativa is a crazy bitch… you don’t mess with a crazy bitch, Johnson!!”

JOHNSON: ”Yeah, but equally in his own right, Viduus is pretty eerie himself!!”

The guitar riff begins in “The Red” by Chevelle as the lights dim and the screens come to life with images of Kiba staring off in the distance looking generally angry. These images are on the left and right-most screens while the center brandishes a simple “Burner” title in the center. Red strobes cross over the top of the ramp and the song begins.

“They say freak,

“When you’re singled out,

“The Red,

“Well it filters through.”

POWERS: ”His opponent, from Las Vegas, Nevada- weighing in at two hundred twenty-five pounds, KIBA BBUUNNSSOONN!!!”

Kiba steps out through the curtain and begins to walk to the ring as the rest continues on.

“So lay down,

“The threat is real,

“When his sight,

“Goes red again.”

As he makes it about three quarters of the way down, he paces back and forth, staring at the ring while rotating his shoulders. He seems to be eyeing something. As he gives a snarl, he runs to the ring, diving under the bottom rope and sliding in, getting as far as he can before pushing his body up and giving a menacing look to the front-most crowd. He gets to his feet as he paces the ring, looking at the same crowd before backing into his corner.

JOHNSON: ”Well, Kiba is a promising talent, he just couldn’t seem to get the job done last week!!”

VASSA: ”I’ll tell you what though, I sure as hell got my money on him this week!!”

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

As the match starts Kiba rushes out to the center of the ring. Viduus steps up and then tries to lock up, but Viduus blocks his grip and grabs his wrist, pulling him forward and driving an elbow into his stomach. Kiba buckles forward as Viduus kicks him in the stomach and locks his wrist. Morta attempts to toss Kiba into the ropes, but as he spins him for the Irish whip, Kiba uses the momentum to completely spin and whip Viduus into the ropes himself. Viduus hits the ropes and rebounds back. Viduus tries to get the momentum early by extending his arm for a clothesline, but Burner ducks under it and rebounds off of the ropes himself. Upon his return, Viduus reaches out and lifts him up, dropping him down with a military press drop. With Kiba on the mat, Viduus bounces off the ropes and comes forward, leaping upward and dropping a knee down across Kiba’s back.

VASSA: “Viduus with a wicked knee drop, smooth across Kiba’s back!!”

JOHNSON: ”Viduus is really coming into his own as of late, he’s really showing he belongs here!”

Viduus stands and momentarily looks around with an eerie smile stretched on his face. He reaches down and grips Kiba under the arm, pulling him to his feet. After Viduus delivers a knife edge chop, he locks Kiba into a headlock. Applying pressure, Kiba drops to a knee. Viduus continues to tighten the headlock as Kiba attempts to fight out. Kiba powers back to standing position, driving an elbow into Viduus Morta’s kidney, before locking his arms around Morta’s waist and dropping him backward to the mat with a belly to back suplex. Kiba rolls onto his stomach and makes a stand. Looking down at Viduus, Kiba turns around and hops in the air, flipping back and landing a standing moonsault across his chest before rolling off of him.

JOHNSON: ”Perfect form from Kiba on that standing moonsault!!”

VASSA: ”For once, I agree with you Johnson. Kiba had tremendous hang-time!!!”

Kiba reaches down and lifts Viduus to standing position, he pushes him back into the corner and rushes forward. Viduus scouts Kiba as he rushes forward and turns around, driving an elbow into his chin. Kiba stumbles back as Viduus steps forward and kicks him in the stomach. He reaches out and grabs Kiba’s arm pulling him toward him and locking him into a suplex. Viduus lifts Kiba up into a suplex, but Kiba shifts his weight landing behind Viduus and locks him in a sleeper hold. Viduus rushes back and smashes Kiba’s back into the corner, causing him to break the sleeper. As Kiba stumbles around, Viduus turns toward him and gives him a rake to the eyes. He grips Kiba’s wrist and tosses him across the ring into the adjacent corner, running forward and giving him a huge body splash. As Viduus backs up, Kiba stumbles out of the corner and crashes to the mat front first.

Viduus reaches down and pulls Kiba to his feet with a sinister smirk laying across his face. He locks him in a DDT but Kiba holds himself up and fires a couple blows to Viduus Morta’s stomach before slinging him backwards with a Northern Lights suplex. Kiba keeps it locked and bridges his back to combo the suplex into a pin on Viduus.

ONE

.

.

TW–

Viduus does a quick heavy kick out, rolling onto his stomach as Kiba uses the ring ropes to pull himself wildly to standing position. He backs himself into the corner and stalks Viduus as he stands. Kiba rushes forward as Viduus turns around, but Viduus becomes aware, catching a glimpse of Kiba from the corner of his eye. As Kiba rushes him, Viduus lifts him onto his shoulders, lazily falling backward with a Samoan Drop. After a brief second, Viduus sits up and looks around before digging his hands into the mat and standing up. Kiba starts to climb up as Viduus rushes him and delivers a knee to the side of his face while he’s on all fours knocking Kiba back down to the ring mat.

VASSA: ”Ouch, dangerous knee from Kiba!!

JOHNSON: ”That’s what Kiba is known for after all, great striking!”

Viduus does a slow pace in a circle, muttering in tongues before walking back over to Kiba. He reaches down and grips Kiba’s wrist, pulling Kiba to his feet. Viduus whips Kiba into the ropes and upon Kiba’s return, lifts him and drills him forward on the bat with a huge spinebuster. Viduus rolls onto his back, but quickly rolls back over and reaches out hooking Kiba’s leg for a pinfall.

ONE

.

.

TWO

Kiba kicks out, causing Viduus to sit up and wipe the sweat from his brow allowing some of his face-paint to remove from his forehead due to the perspiration. Viduus reaches out and grabs at the ring ropes, pulling himself to a stand. Kiba starts to crawl toward the corner as Viduus closes in on him. As Viduus reaches out and grabs Kiba from behind, Kiba fires a left elbow to Viduus Morta’s chin. He spins around and drives a knee into Morta’s gut before stuffing him for a powerbomb set up. Kiba lifts him into the air and charges from one corner of the ring to the other, executing a turnbuckle bomb. After Viduus’s head smacks against the top turnbuckle he ricochets forward allowing Kiba to grip him and roll him up into a packaged up quick pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

Viduus fights the quick pin off and Kiba rolls backward boosting himself to standing position. Viduus reaches out and grabs the ropes, slowly pulling himself to standing position. He spins around as Kiba takes a couple steps forward and lunges twirling forward with a spinning back-fist. Viduus ducks the back-fist and locks his arm around Kiba’s neck, rapidly dropping back and smashing him face first to the mat with a flatliner. Both men lay on their back licking their wounds.

VASSA: ”FLATLINER!!”

JOHNSON: ”That could be the end for Kiba?!”

It’s Viduus coming to all fours as Kiba follows slowly behind him. With both men propped to the canvas on their knees, Viduus fires a chop to Kiba’s chest. Kiba returns fire with a chop of his own. The exchange continues, once, twice, on the first back and forth, Kiba blocks Viduus by pushing his forearm away. Kiba takes an extra chop to Viduus Morta’s chest before firing an elbow to his chin, leaving him groggy enough for Kiba to climb to his feet. Kiba quick back peddles a couple paces before jolting forward and delivering a sliding clothesline to Morta. He slowly climbs to his feet as Viduus rolls onto his stomach. Quickly, Kiba hops up and lands a leg drop across Morta’s neck, wasting no time for a pinfall.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

Viduus kicks out, causing an angry Kiba to climb to his feet. He reaches down and grabs Viduus by the wrist, pulling him to his feet. Kicking Viduus in the ribs, he whips him against the ropes. Upon the rebound, Viduus attempts a clothesline but Kiba ducks it. Kiba hits the ropes fast after avoiding the clothesline and comes back in Viduus Morta’s direction, connecting clothesline of his own. Kiba sits up and looks around with a smirk of raged confidence growing upon his features.

JOHNSON: ”Don’t get too arrogant Viduus, Stay focused!!”

VASSA:”You’re full of shit Johnson,sometimes arrogant can make a better tomorrow!”

Kiba pulls himself up and staggers to the ropes, beginning to ascend the turnbuckles. Once he makes it to the top, Viduus grips into the mat and comes to standing position himself. Kiba jumps from the ropes, looking to catch his legs around Morta’s neck and flip him. The move gets countered as Viduus drops him in a sit out powerbomb, staying in position as he looks to catch the victory.

ONE

.

.

TWO

Kiba kicks out and rolls onto his belly. Viduus slowly stands to his feet. He reaches under Kiba’s arm, standing him up.Kiba rakes Viduus in the eyes causing him to stumble back. Taking no time at all, Kiba puns forward and baseball slides into Viduus Morta’s ankle, knocking him to a knee. Continuing moment, Kiba rolls to a stand, springs off of the ropes and comes back in Viduus’s direction again, hitting a Shining Wizard. Kiba stands and lifts Viduus to his knees, spinning him around so Kiba is behind him. He locks Viduus up under both arms and tosses him back with a Dragon suplex. Kiba keeps the arms locked, bridging again, trying for another pin combination.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

JOHNSON: ”So close to victory. Kiba almost caught the three count with the Dragon Suplex!!”

Kiba stands up as Viduus crawls toward the ropes. Reaching down, Kiba grabs Viduus by the dreads, pulling him to his feet He puts Viduus’s head between his legs and locks him in double underhooks, looking to connect Final Flame. He attempts to lift Viduus, but Viduus hold his weight and lands back to his feet. He breaks the double underhooks and powers Kiba up, sending him back with a back body drop. Kiba flips out landing on his feet stumbling as he does. Both men spin around face to face Kiba quickly swings a right hook. Viduus grabs Kiba’s wrist and spins him around, locking him up in an reverse DDT. Quickly he lifts Kiba into the air and comes down with a brainbuster finish, dropping on him for a pin attempt.

VASSA: ”THE AWAKENING!! That’s gotta be it!!!”

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: ”He got it, Viduus continues to shine but if Kiba would have hit Final Flame it may have been a different story!!”

VASSA: ”Viduus picks up the victory, outta’ nowhere!!!”

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, VIDUUS MMOORRTTAA!!!”

March Into The Sea by Modest Mouse plays. Viduus sits up and gives an eerie look around the arena, slowly standing up as the referee goes to raise his hand in victory. Viduus stands over Kiba, wiping his brow looking heavily down upon him for a moment as the camera cuts to the backstage area.

We cut from ringside and head backstage to Gabriel Hartman standing by.

HARTMAN: ”Ladies and gentlemen, my guest at this time, Scott Stevens.”

Hartman introduces everyone’s favorite Texan as he appears from the side.

HARTMAN: ”Tonight, you are in the Headline match on Adrenaline. You are one victory away from being in the finals and one step closer to getting a rematch with Eli Carlson for the 4CW Championship at South Beach Brawl. What are your thoughts on your upcoming match?”

Hartman asks as the Texan nods in agreement with everything Hartman said.

STEVENS: ”Tonight is where we separate the men from the boys.”

Stevens responds as he grabs the microphone and raises it up as he turns his head towards the camera.

STEVENS: ”Tonight, you are not getting a semi-finals match.”

Stevens says as he shakes his head no.

STEVENS: ”This match between Bronx and I is the real finals of the South Beach Brawl tournament because the winner of our match will challenge for the 4CW Championship at South Beach Brawl.”

Stevens boasts confidently, and Hartman can’t help but chime in.

HARTMAN: ”Cocky much?.”

STEVENS: ”Cocky?”

Stevens asks Hartman as if he didn’t clearly hear him.

HARTMAN: ”That’s right.”

STEVENS: ”Not at all because you have the two individuals who want it the most. You have the runner up from last year looking for redemption and to punch his ticket to his first ever 4CW Championship Main Event match in Bronx. Then you have myself who took the 4CW Champion to the limit and if given another chance I know I can beat him.”

Stevens says to Hartman who doesn’t quite believe him.

HARTMAN: ”What about Johnny Evil and the champ’s wife, Genevie Carlson?”

STEVENS: ”What about them?”

HARTMAN: ”Seems like you’re overlooking them to me.”

Hartman says but Stevens waves off the accusation.

STEVENS: ”Not at all. As good as they have been in making it this far is an accomplishment in itself, but at the end of the day the two of them just don’t want it as badly as Bronx and I. Johnny Evil was contemplating retirement before he won the Tag Team championship and you think that he’s the personification of the mythical phoenix rising from the ashes and going to be the next 4CW Champion? Give me a fucking break. And as good as Genie has been she’s simply not good enough to beat her husband. Tonight, Bronx and I are going to beat the living hell out of each other and prove why we are worthy of the honor of challenging for the 4CW Championship, and when it is all said and done I will emerge victorious and take what should have been mine at All or Nothing.”

Stevens says as he exits the frame and slowly fades back to ringside.

UNDERCARD
LAURYN WOLFE VS. AMBER RYAN

JOHNSON: ”Pretty excited for this next matchup, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”For perverted reasons, or for the thrill of this sport?”

JOHNSON: ”Come on now, you know better than that. These are two excited talents we have in this company, we’re about to see a fantastic matchup here tonight!”

VASSA: ”Oh, yeah. Same, I was totally just kidding there. Can’t wait to see these two get it on.”

JOHNSON: ”I feel like you’re still being lewd, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”I know, I can’t help it.”

With the opening instruments of the French Montana and Kodak Black song “Lockjaw” blaring out through the arena, the lights go off and there is a momentary darkness that fills the place.

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

As the hard hip-hop beats come in with full force and the hook plays, a lone light shines down on the center of the stage. It won’t be soon before Lauryn Wolfe emerges and stands in the light, having most of her face covered up with a handkerchief. Bouncing lightly in place, only her eyes are seen and the camera zooms in on them, capturing the hardened look of her brown eyes as she looks on.

POWERS: ”From Seattle, Washington, weighing in at a hundred and twenty-seven pounds, she is “The Reckless One”, LAURYYYYYYYYNNNNN WOLFFFFEEEE!”

With announcement of her name, Lauryn breaks out of her intense gaze and gets hyped up, slamming the palms of her hands down to the ground and jumps as all of the lights now come back on, flashing accordingly to the beat of the song.

“It be hard to watch the cash when the bands keep droppin’

Got the big 40 on me so my pants keep fallin’

It be hard to understand me ’cause my jaw keep lockin'”

The brazen brawler has her arms outstretched and she shouts as she walks briskly down the ramp, coming close to the ring. As she draws near, Lauryn’s pace then switches as she runs and leaps, sliding underneath the bottom rope before she gets to one knee. She takes the time to look at the entire arena from that position before she gets up, scales the closest turnbuckle near her, and rips the handkerchief off of her face. A sly grin is seen on her face before she throws her head back and let’s out her signature howl; with the crowd proceeding to do so as well.

“Bite down, bite down

It be hard to understand me ’cause my jaw keep lockin'”

Lauryn hops down and crouches down in her corner and smirks, looking like a predator ready to hunt for some prey as she waits for the match to get underway.

JOHNSON: ”Lauryn Wolfe, representing Generation Now. She’s always ready for a fight.”

VASSA: ”Ready to run her mouth off, you mean.”

JOHNSON: ”That too! She is certainly not afraid of telling it like it is. I think that’s why the crowd is eager for this match tonight.”

VASSA: ”She called me fat backstage, true story.”

It’s the tinkling of the eerie music box that brings the lights down as “Shatter Me” by Lindsey Stirling begins to play, the crowd murmuring with anticipation, as slowly and silently the big screens seems to crack one by one until Lzzy Hale’s vocals cue shadows to dance across the shattered surfaces.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

“I pirouette in the dark, I see the stars through a mirror

Tired mechanical heart, beats till the song disappears”

Squealing violin cuts through the building tension, lights pulsing in red like an erratic heartbeat

“Somebody shine a light, I’m frozen by the fear in me

Somebody make me feel alive then shatter me!

So cut me from the line, dizzy spinning endlessly

Somebody make me feel alive then shatter me!”

As the bass drops, a female silhouette almost materializes atop the aisle drawing a mixed reaction from the crowd.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring next, from Atlantic City, New Jersey! Weighing in at one hundred forty-two pounds and standing five feet, eight inches tall! She is the ‘Distorted Angel’… AMBER RRYYAANN!!!”

Most cheer in appreciation of the show that they’re about to witness but many jeer due to her previous affiliations and general devil-just-doesn’t-give-a-fuck attitude.

Dubstep violin leads Amber down the ramp, a few fans extend hands but receive little acknowledgement for their efforts. She circles the ring, messing with whichever ring crew and staff that happen to be within vicinity before methodically and deliberately sliding beneath the bottom rope and crossing to one of the far corners.

Climbing the turnbuckle left handed, she watches out over the crowd to gauge the reaction, returning the mixed reaction with an acknowledging nod of her own before somewhat turning awkwardly on the spot and taking a seat upon the top turnbuckle with hands clasped and elbows resting on her knees- that familiar Distorted Angel smirk ever present across her face.

JOHNSON: ”Amber Ryan with an impressive win over Paris last week, set to take on Lauryn Wolfe here tonight!”

VASSA: ”Lauryn might not have the best record here, but she is certainly a step up in challenge.”

JOHNSON: ”Agreed, going to be a tough night for Amber if Wolfe shows up ready for a fight.”

VASSA: ”Indeed! Let’s just see how this goes though.”

JOHNSON: ”Hopefully for Amber’s sake, she isn’t feeling the aftermath from her latest death match she competed in just a week ago.”

VASSA: ”Let’s hope not! 4CW is stacked with talent that everyone competing should want to be at their fullest.”

DING!!! DING!!!

Lauryn comes flying out the gate, racing towards Amber Ryan. Amber ducks under the attempt, taking Lauryn down with a slick drop toe hold. Lauryn doesn’t stay down for long, she springs back up and tries to drive Amber Ryan into the corner. Ryan whips her around at the last second, using Lauryn’s momentum against her. Amber pushes Lauryn into the corner, stunning her with a stiff forearm shot. Amber connects with another, and follows up with a knife-edge chop to the chest of Lauryn Wolfe.

Amber grabs hold of Lauryn’s arm, whipping her to the other side of the ring. Lauryn lands in the corner, Amber races after her. She charges in for a clothesline attempt, but Lauryn saw it coming. She stops in her tracks and lays into Amber with a elbow, knocking Amber Ryan backwards. She quickly follows that up with a running Discus Clothesline. Amber falls flat to the mat, not taking much time on the mat as she pops back up. Lauryn quickly charges again at Ryan, who ducks under and grabs the top rope. Lauryn Wolfe spills to the outside below! With Lauryn momentarily stunned, Amber rushes to the other side of the ring. She bounces off of the ropes, using her momentum to rush to the other side of the ring. She slips through the middle and bottom rope, connecting with a suicide dive to Lauryn Wolfe!

JOHNSON: ”Big dive from Amber Ryan!”

VASSA: ”What a way to start this match! I think Lauryn landed wrong though.”

Lauryn stumbles backwards, hitting the barricade. She drops to the ground, holding the back of her neck as she does. Lauryn looks to be in pain, but is trying to recover quickly. Amber looks at the crowd, who cheer her for the dive! Lauryn is dazed for a moment, allowing Amber Ryan to pick her back up. Amber lands a slick right hand, dazing Lauryn some more. She look over at the nearby turnbuckle post, and goes to toss her opponent head first into the beam! Lauryn recovers in time, reversing at the last second and sends Amber crashing into the post face first!

Lauryn takes her time, as Amber Ryan tries to get back to her feet. Logan Whitby looks on, as Lauryn picks Amber Ryan back up to her feet. She easily presses her over her head, dropping her throat first onto the barricade! Amber doesn’t fall down, so Lauryn grabs her and sends her backwards with a European Uppercut!

JOHNSON: ”Lauryn Wolfe fighting back now, we can see her wincing with every attack there.”

VASSA: ”I think she might have hurt her neck on that dive.”

Lauryn grabs another handful of Amber Ryan’s hair, slamming her into the barricade once more! Lauryn is doing her best to recover, as Amber Ryan lays on the ground in a daze. Logan Whitby calls for both competitors to enter the ring, as Lauryn looks to comply. She goes to enter the ring, but Amber is up! She grabs Lauryn’s ring gear, pulling her back to the outside. Lauryn faces her opponent, and eats a stiff Uppercut from Amber! The shot echoes throughout the Spectrum Center, allowing Amber to enter the ring while Lauryn recoups on the outside.

Logan calls for Lauryn to get back into the ring, it takes her a moment but she finally does! Lauryn charges at her opponent, but Amber ducks the attempt. She grabs the legs of Lauryn Wolfe, taking her down with a slick takedown. Amber drops a couple of hammerfist attempts at Lauryn, but doesn’t connect with many. Lauryn is able to free herself, pushing Amber away as she gets to her feet. Amber doubles Lauryn over with a kick to the stomach, and drops her to the mat with another stiff uppercut!

JOHNSON: ”Another uppercut from Amber Ryan! I don’t know how Lauryn Wolfe is still in this matchup.”

VASSA: ”She’s tough, you have to give her that!”

A smile comes over the Distorted Angel’s face, as she drills Lauryn into the mat with a Scissored DDT! Lauryn lays on the mat motionless, as Amber Ryan is ready to end this match now! She picks the Generation Now member up, lifting her up into a Vertebreaker position! The crowd prepares itself, as Amber leaps up and drills Lauryn right into the mat! Lauryn lands awkwardly, holding her neck. Amber sees this, quickly jumping on her opponent. She wraps Lauryn’s arms up, locking her deep into the Cattle Mutilation submission! With no place to go, Lauryn has no choice but to give up!

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

POWERS: “Here is your winner, AMBER RRYYAANN!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Well Amber Ryan gets the win, after that neck injury it was just easy pickings for Amber.”

VASSA: ”We hope Lauryn will be alright, but after Amber locked in that submission the smart move was to give up.”

“Shatter Me” plays again, as Amber Ryan celebrates her victory. Lauryn is getting looked at by Logan Whitby, but she sits up. Pain in her face, she nods towards Amber who returns the nod. Amber quickly gets out of the ring, celebrating her victory tonight as Lauryn looks on.

Somewhere in the less traveled sections of the Spectrum Center Sativa and Dave converse in hushed tones.

NEVAEH: ”Alright, so the plan is after I beat him down you will come and up end that bucket on him.”

Sativa points to one of those Home Depot five gallon buckets. A lid covering it prevents us from seeing the contents of said bucket. Dave looks at it and then back to Sativa.

DAVE: ”And you sure nothing will happen to me?”

NEVAEH: ”Of course not. I’m the one attacking him. He won’t know what happens for a while after that. Plus what could he do?”

DAVE: ”I don’t want some voodoo hex on me or anything like that. I ain’t down with that black magic.”

NEVAEH: ”Get real Dave. That voodoo shit he throws around ain’t real! It’s all a bunch of stuff to get into your head. Make you scared. Don’t fall for that shit.”

Sativa unstraps her belt from around her waist and runs her hand over the face plate.

NEVAEH: ”Soon baby. You will get fed soon.”

The faint echo of foot steps reach the pair. They both turn to the direction the sound came from; Dave nervous, Sativa anxious. Sativa gets Dave’s attention and point to the bucket miming taking the lid off. Dave nods and proceeds to remove the lid. Inside we can see some kind of dark liquid. Dave kneels by the bucket as Sativa moves to the corner, slightly peaking around. She nods at Dave and then takes a deep steadying breath. She adjusts her grip on her belt and then stands statue still.

She then bursts into motion. She springs around the corner catching a walking Viduus Morta off guard. She lunges toward him, belt extended for his face. Viduus reflexively attempts to dodge the attack but just moments too late. His face is clipped by one of the side plates of the belt. The loose hit isn’t enough to take him down but it does stun him for a few moments. Sativa capitalizes and turns almost on a dime and connects the belt into the back of his head, dropping him to the floor. She then liberally throws kicks to his midsection causing Viduus to curl up.

Sativa then drops to her knees and starts raining belts shots to his head and shoulders. She unsteadily gets to her feet and looks down on the mess at her feet. Viduus writhes in pain, one arm across his ribs the other wrapped around her head.

NEVAEH: ”NOW!”

Dave comes around the corner, straining with the bucket. He lifts it up as Sativa steps back. He turns it over a what appears to be blood dumps out of it and coats Viduus. The bucket wasn’t totally full but at least four gallons of blood cover Viduus and pools around him on the concrete floor. Sativa smirks and motions for Dave to take off. Dave tosses the bucket at Viduus for good measure before hauling ass away. Sativa stands over the form of Viduus with a smirk on her face. He manages to turn his head and look at her, a grin on his face, followed by laughter.

Sativa growls in frustration and drops down with the belt. All of her weight and moment was behind the move and the belt struck Viduus square in the face. His body goes limp as he loses consciousness. That grin still on his face. Sativa gets up and looks down at her bloody clothes then to the bloody title. She grins and throws the belt over her shoulder before turning and leaving.

NEVAEH: ”Next time it will be your own blood you’re bathing in.”

Sativa takes one last look at Viduus before turning the corner and disappearing from view.

UNDERCARD
FATE DIVISION
FATE CHAMPIONSHIP NUMBER ONE CONTENDER
OVER THE TOP ROPE ELIMINATION RUMBLE

CLIFF WHITE VS. NIOBE MARTIN VS. ALEXIS MORRISON VS.
LORD RAAB VS. MARIANO FERNANDEZ VS. JETT WILDER

POWERS: ”Ladies and gentlemen, the following number one contender match for the Fate Championship will be an over the top rope elimination rumble!”

JOHNSON: ”Up next folks we have a six person over the top rope elimination rumble to decide who will challenge Tara Davidson at South Beach Brawl for the Fate Championship.”

VASSA: ”Six people all with the same goal in mind – becoming the new Fate Champion.”

JOHNSON: ”This is a pretty tight match up, literally anyone could walk away here tonight as the number one contender.”

Sirens wail through the atmosphere before the punk energy of The Clash rips through the sound system. Without fuss or hesitation, Cliff emerges from the back ready for business.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring, weighing in at two hundred and forty pounds. Hailing from Swansea, United Kingdom. CLIFF WWHHIITTEE!!!”

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.

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.

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.

“Nightmare!

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.

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.

“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.

The arena lights suddenly go down, and a Trollface appears on the big screen.

PROBLEM?

Then, a sound of drums fills the arena.

DUM-DUM-DUM!

DUM-DUM-DUM!

DUM-DUM-DUM!

POWERS: ”And now, standing sex feet tall and weighing in at one hundred eighty 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…

“DOVAHKIIN! DOVAHKIIN! NAAL OK ZIN LOS VAHRIIN, WAH DEIN VOKUL MAHFAERAAK AHST VAAL! AHRK FIN NOROK PAAL GRAAN FOD NUST HON ZINDRO ZAAN! DOVAHKIIN, FAH HIN KOGAAN MU DRAAL!”

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 a member of the ringside crew.

FERNANDEZ: “FUS RO DAH!!!”

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 not far by the imposing Luiz Cavalcante and the beautiful Carmella Wilder. Though generally the young and small Wilder alone would not be imposing with his atrocious dance moves we get a close up of the imposing Luiz walking to the ring to really strike some form of fear. Clapping her son on is Carmella with her glasses on looking professional as she usually does, as Wilder bounces up the steps stopping.

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Los Angeles, California accompanied to the ring by Carmella Wilder and Luiz Cavalcante, weighing in at one hundred and forty five pounds and standing five feet, eight inches tall, JETT WWIILLDDEERR!!!”

Waiting for Luiz who as usual doesn’t look pleased to have to stop and lower the top rope down so that Wilder can jump over it to show off. Shaking his head as he follows him into the ring as Jett jumps up to the top rope pounding his chest as the crowd boos him. Carmella walks around the ring ignoring the cat calls and the boos to continue to cheer her son on as Jett bounces off the ropes and heads to the other side with Luiz standing behind him arms crossed. Finally bouncing back down taking off the hoodie he came out with to hand to Luiz who walks to the ropes to hand it out to Carmella as Jett readies himself.

VASSA: ”There’s everyone I have on my list here.”

JOHNSON: ”They’re all here, all six of our competitors who want to earn a championship match against the Fate Champion, Tara Davidson at the pay-per-view.”

With everyone in the ring and ready to get this rumble started, the official quickly throws his hand into the air and signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

VASSA: ”There won’t be any pinfalls or submission in this matchup. The only way to eliminate someone is to throw them over the topo rope and down to the outside.”

JOHNSON: ”That’s right, Vinny. Once a persons feet touch the floor below, they’re eliminated from the contest.”

VASSA: ”That’s what I just said. That’s normally how these things work. Damn, Steve.”

From the start, Jett and Alexis join sides and talk amongst each other for a brief moment before turning to everyone else in the matchup. Jett has two on his side, Alexis two on her side.

Rushing in first, Raab charges straight for Jett but as he closes in, Mariano catches him in the back of the head with a forearm shot, knocking him into Dropkick from Jett. With Raab down, Jett and Mariano begin kicking and stomping on him. With Jett distracted and focused only on Raab, Mariano lunges over Raab’s body and connects with a stiff right to Jett’s face. Surprised, Jett questions what Mariano is doing only to then catch a boot to the gut forcing him to buckle over. Stepping over Raab’s body, Mariano grabs onto Jett and pulls him in before lifting him into the air upside down and dropping him with a piledriver, planting Jett’s head onto Raab’s midsection.

Not far across the ring, Niobe and Alexis double team Cliff, knocking him back and forth between the two as they lay into him with kicks and punches. Working together for just the moment, Niobe and Alexis grab onto Cliff and lift him into the air and drop him with a double suplex. As the two stand to their feet, Alexis blindsides Niobe with an elbow to the mouth and follows up the attack with back to back knife edge chops across her chest. Stepping in beside Niobe, Alexis then drops her to the canvas with a Russian leg sweep.

VASSA: ”Alexis and Jett seem to have formed an alliance before this rumble but they’re still outnumbered.”

JOHNSON: ”The way things are now, each only have to worry about four people instead of five. As long as both can stay in the ring with each other it’s one less person to worry about and possibly someone looking over their backs.”

Back on her feet, Alexis pulls Niobe up from the mat as Cliff is still down not too far from them. Out of nowhere, Raab rushes in and hits Alexis with a shoulder block, knocking her away from Niobe and sending her crashing into the nearby corner. Turning to Niobe, Raab rings her bell with a right hook, knocking her into the ropes. Bouncing off the ropes, Niobe falls into Raab who then lifts her into the air and plants her right back into the mat with a spinebuster. Rising back to his feet, Raab gets caught off guard as Alexis rushes in but quickly hooks her arm, lifting her into the air and flipping her down onto her back. Jumping in between Alexis and Niobe, Raab drops an elbow across both of their chests. He then stands back to his feet and lifts Niobe up from the mat before lifting her into the air and pressing her above his head. Walking to the ropes, Raab then launches Niobe up and over, sending her flying into the crowd who catch and break her fall.

NIOBE MARTIN ELIMINATED

JOHNSON: ”There goes Niobe. We have our first elimination of the night folks.”

VASSA: ”She didn’t really seem that interested in the match to begin with. Are you that surprised?”

As Raab turns around to face the action, Cliff is right there to greet him with a solid punch right between the eyes. Kicking Raab in the stomach, Cliff forces him to lunge over and as he does, he stands him straight up once more with an uppercut. Pulling Raab in, Cliff then lifts him up and drops him across his knee with a back breaker.

Across the ring, Jett and Mariano exchange blows until Jett sees a window of opportunity and hits Mariano with a jaw breaker. Running to the ropes, Jett comes back on the rebound and slides feet first, planting both of his feet into the side of Mariano’s head with a baseball slide. He then pulls Mariano up from the mat and locks his arm around his head before taking a few steps forward while dragging him along and then planting his face into the mat with a bulldog. Looking up, Jett notices Alexis cornered with Cliff closing in on her, leaving her nowhere to go. Rushing in behind Cliff, Jett leaps into the air and lands on his back, wrapping both arms around him. Reaching over his head and behind him, Cliff grabs onto to Jett and then quickly bends over while pulling Jett over his head and slamming him onto his back. Turning his attention away and focusing on Raab across the ring, Cliff heads in his direction as Alexis quickly checks in with Jett to see if he’s okay.

VASSA: ”Well damn, maybe this alliance is legit after all.”

JOHNSON: ”Alexis seems to be concerned with Jett’s wellbeing.”

Stalking Raab, Cliff slowly closes in and begins stomping on his body. From behind, Mariano hits Cliff in the back of the head with an elbow shot. Turning around instantly, Cliff throws a wild punch and connects with Mariano’s jaw, sending his head whipping to the side. The two then exchange blow back and forth, beating each other senseless. Meanwhile, Raab slowly pulls himself up with the ropes until finally standing to his feet. Kicking Mariano in the stomach and forcing him to buckle over, Cliff then pulls Mariano’s head between his legs and wraps both arms around his waist. He then lifts Mariano off his feet but Mariano kicks both legs, forcing Cliff to drop him back down. Mariano then stands up, lifting Cliff into the air over his head and flipping him over to his back. Just as Mariano turns around, Raab races in and clotheslines him against the ropes, flipping him up and over. Mariano quickly grabs onto the rope and uses them to guide his landing onto the apron. Raab then reaches over the top rope to grab Mariano but comes only inches short of being able to lay a finger on him. From behind, Cliff hits Raab with a double axe-handle. Grabbing the back of Raab’s pants with one hand, Cliff hooks his other arm underneath Raab’s and then lifts him up and over the top rope. Clearing the apron, Raab crashes to the floor below.

LORD RAAB ELIMINATED

JOHNSON: ”Raab has been eliminated folks!”

VASSA: ”That’s our second elimination of the night and we still have three more to go.”

JOHNSON: ”We almost had three but Mariano was able to save himself from going down to the floor.”

On the apron, Mariano pulls himself back to his feet. Seeing an opportunity, Cliff then charges in to knock him down from the apron. As Cliff closes in, Mariano ducks down and pulls his shoulders through the ropes, planting one in Cliff’s midsection. Standing straight up, Mariano then pulls Cliff in and begins hitting him over and over with right and left forearms to the back. Wrapping his arm around Cliff’s head and draping Cliff’s over his, Mariano grabs the back of Cliff’s pants and then lifts him off his feet for a suplex. Hooking his foot underneath the middle rope, Cliff stops his movement, forcing Mariano to ease up and drop him back to his feet. Cliff then reaches over the top rope with his other hand and grabs the back of Mariano’s pants. Lifting Mariano off his feet, Cliff goes for a suplex, bringing Mariano back into the ring. Just like Cliff did, Mariano hooks his foot underneath the rope, stopping Cliff from lifting him any higher into the air. As Mariano’s feet touch back down, he lifts Cliff up with a burst of energy, this time lifting him fully upside down above his head. Falling back and to the side, Mariano lands onto the apron as he drops Cliff to the floor with a suplex over the top rope.

CLIFF WHITE ELIMINATED

VASSA: ”Cliff White is out of it now! He’s the third person to be eliminated.”

JOHNSON: ”Mariano struggled with that elimination, having to give it two tries.”

VASSA: ”Cliff almost brought Mariano back into the ring but just couldn’t do it and the result was him being eliminated.”

Across the ring, Jett and Alexis huddle up, discussing a game plan with only one other person left in the ring. Climbing through the ropes, Mariano charges towards the pair and grabs onto their heads. Pulling them apart, he then slams them together. Alexis falls backwards to the mat as Mariano releases her but keeps a grip on Jett. Pulling Jett’s head underneath his arm, Mariano then flips him up and over to his back with a snap suplex. Pushing himself up, Mariano stomps on Jett’s shoulder until Alexis runs in behind him with a forearm shot across the top of his back. Stumbling forward, Mariano regains his footing but as he turns around, Alexis is right there to slap him across the chest with three knife edge chops. She then reaches forward and grabs Mariano by the wrist, pulling him in and leveling him with a short-arm clothesline.

Lifting Mariano up from the mat, Alexis drags him to the ropes but before she can even attempt to lift him up and over, Mariano rakes her eyes. Jumping in the air, Mariano wraps his arm around her head and then swings around, planting her head into the canvas with a DDT. Back on his feet, he then lifts Alexis up and pulls her to the ropes, pressing her against them. Just as he begins to life Alexis, Jett runs in from behind and hits him in the back with a bicycle kick.

JOHNSON: ”Gitcha’!”

VASSA: ”Oh he got him alright.”

JOHNSON: ”At Christmas?”

VASSA: ”Huh… what you know about that?!”

With his arms draped over the top ropes, Mariano remains on his feet, barely able to keep himself up. Jett then checks in with Alexis as it appears she’s now okay. The two nod to one another before turning to Mariano and working together. They both grab onto him and as they do, his eyes light up and he grips the top rope as tightly as possible. Jett and Alexis both lift at the same time, lifting Mariano off his feet but Mariano pulls himself down, hooking his foot underneath the bottom rope.

VASSA: ”Mariano is in a tough spot right now with both Alexis and Jett working together to try and take him over the top rope.”

JOHNSON: ”It appears that their little plan has worked now that it’s just them two left with one other in the ring.”

VASSA: ”But what happens afterwards?”

Forcing himself back to the where his feet are on the mat, Mariano releases the ropes with one of his hands and slams an elbow back into Jett’s face. He then grabs back onto the rope with that hand and pulls his other away from the rope. Swinging around, Mariano connects with a backhand to Alexis’ face, knocking her off of him. Grabbing Mariano’s shoulder, Jett spins him around but as he does, Mariano takes a swing for the fences and lunges at Jett’s head. Ducking down, Jett dodges the blow to the head as Mariano’s body falls against him. Wrapping Mariano’s legs up, Jett then lifts him up, standing straight, and rolling him over the top rope. Mariano quickly grabs onto the rope, fighting to pull himself back into the ring. After shaking off the blow to the face, Alexis then rushes over and begins help Jett as the two try to lift Mariano completely over the top rope. After a few minutes of struggling, the two are finally able to roll Mariano over the top rope, but as he falls towards the floor, he reaches up and grabs onto Jett, pulling him over the top rope as well.

JOHNSON: ”Mariano’s falling to the floor!”

VASSA: ”He’s taking Jett to Hell with him!”

JOHNSON: ”WAIT A SECOND!!!”

Reaching over the top rope, Alexis grabs Jett’s hand, stopping him just inches above the floor where his feet hand. Mariano slams against the floor, still pulling on Jett even though he’s been taken out.

MARIANO FERNANDEZ ELIMINATED

VASSA: ”Mariano is out of this thing but he isn’t leaving until he takes Jett down with him.”

Hanging onto Alexis’ hand for dear life, Jett cries for help as Mariano continues to pull him down. From around the corner of the ring, Carmella and Luiz rush over, trying to pry Mariano’s hands away from Jett as he hands helplessly. After a short struggle, they final pull Mariano’s hands off of Jett and then drag him out of distance to touch the F.A.G. any more.

JOHNSON: ”Once again there’s his mother to bail him out of a bad situation.”

VASSA: ”I’m just sitting here toping for a wardrobe malfunction and her releasing those two big ole’ feed bags from underneath her shirt.”

JOHNSON: ”Get ahold of yourself, Vinny!”

Curling his legs, Jett presses his feet against the side of the ring as Alexis holds him just inches above the floor. Looking up to Alexis with fear in his eyes, Jett pulls himself up slowly while walking up the side of the ring.

WILDER: ”Help me, Alexis! I don’t want to fall!”

MORRISON: ”I’m not going to let you hold me back anymore.”

With that, Alexis opens her hand, releasing Jett as his grip slips and gravity begins pulling him down to the floor.

WILDER: ”NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOO–“

Screaming as if falling off the side of a cliff, Jett’s howl echoes throughout the arena but only for a second before his back slams against the floor, having only fallen inches in reality.

THUD!!!

VASSA: ”I’ll never let go. I promise.”

JOHNSON: ”Did you just quote Titanic?”

VASSA: ”Shut up, don’t judge me!”

JOHNSON: ”Okay, I won’t, but the people listening might.”

JETT WILDER ELIMINATED

VASSA: ”To hell with that! Alexis Morrison just won the rumble!”

JOHNSON: ”She did Vinny and she’ll get her shot at Tara Davidson at South Beach Brawl for the Fate Championship.”

“Stronger” by Through Fire hits the speakers as Alexis is still leaning over the top rope, looking down to Jett. On his back, Jett fights to contain back his emotions as his sad eyes look up to Alexis, growing full of water after being betrayed by someone he had made a pact with earlier in the night. With a smirk on her face, Alexis then pushes herself away from the ropes as the official steps in beside her and raises her arm into the air.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner and number one contender for the Fate Championship, ALEXIS MMOORRRRIISSOONN!!!”

Alexis circles the inside of the ring triumphantly as Jett looks on from the outside, still in disbelief that she let him fall to the floor like that just to save herself and win the match. Carmella and Luiz check in with Jett who just sits in an upright stance, arms over his knees and full of disappointment.

JOHNSON: ”Just two weeks ago Alexis was competing in the South Beach Brawl Cup and now she’s found herself locked in for a Fate Championship match.”

VASSA: ”It’s funny how those things work. I guess you could call it… fate?”

JOHNSON: ”You just might be on to something.”

Climbing the corner, Alexis overlooks the crowd in celebration as her music continues to blare throughout the arena. Looking down, she glances at Jett one last time before smirking and winking at him. She then turns away, leaving him heartbroken and in a complete mess.

The cameras cut to backstage where Genevie is seen standing with a smirk on her face. She runs her fingers through her long dark hair, before she begins to speak.

CARLSON: “You know tonight is a big night for me. It’s the semi-finals to the South Beach Brawl Cup Tournament, and I know a lot of people didn’t even think I would make it this far. Hell I know a lot of people who are doubting I’ll even make it past Johnny Evil and make it into the finals. Good. Keep that attitude up. It only drives and motivates me to fight that much harder to prove you wrong.”

Genevie clasped her hands together and sighed as she continued on.

CARLSON: “I know I’m making it to the finals, but what if I don’t? People keep asking me, what happens if you actually lose Gen? It’s simple really, nothing. Not a damn thing happens. Sure people will talk about how I wasn’t able to get the job done again, but really? Name one wrestler in 4CW currently that hasn’t failed to get the job done at one time or another? You can’t. Everyone fails to do what they say they are going to do at some point. So on the slim to none chance that I lose? Sure I’ll be upset, and disappointed with myself but, other than that. NOTHING Changes…In FACT.”

Her hands fell back down to her sides as her smirk turned into a beaming grin.

CARLSON: “If I were to lose I’m already moving on to the next thing! Like I always do. You see, Jason Cashe decided to FINALLY accept my challenge. The challenge I made to him ages ago when I… Yes I said any time he wanted to face me I would accept. I’m not afraid of Jason Cashe. In fact I WANT to face Cashe. One of the biggest names in 4CW history and I want to prove to him that yeah I run my mouth a lot, but I can back it up too. That I ain’t backing down from facing him, like he keeps accusing me of doing with others, when that’s simply not the case.”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

CARLSON: “I can’t remember the last time I have had a show off. When I haven’t wrestled. When I haven’t promoted my ass off for this company. It doesn’t matter though, because yes if I lose, it would suck and I would be disappointed, but it doesn’t define me and I’ll take the heat and bullshit that would come with it, because I know the next great opportunity is already knocking at my door. But, don’t think this is me counting myself out tonight. That all sounds great, but what sounds greater is moving on to the finals of this tournament. What sounds even better? Throwing it in someone like Cashe’s face. Like that cocky, self destructive prick Johnny Evil’s face. HA. HA. HA. I did it. Then? Johnny Evil can take his sorry ass back to the locker room, and him and his tag partner can fight, cry, fuck, and hug it out. Get over their differences and realize they’re both losers, and maybe they’ll stop the bullshit games and focus on the only thing they have left. The 4CW Tag Team Championships.”

Genevie shrugged, and sighed looking down at the floor. She slid her nike encased foot across a dark spot on the floor before looking up at the camera, the smile gone from her face.

CARLSON: “Now I know the main event is my best friend against my husband. A lot of people think that Wallace did it to get inside my head, to punish me for what I did in the ring last Adrenaline. He wants me to lose focus and fail. That’s not going to happen. There’s actually only TWO matches I care about at all tonight. The match I have against Johnny Evil, and finding out who I face next Adrenaline in the finals. I will be watching Scott Stevens versus Bronx VERY closely, because whoever comes out on top? Is my final hurdle to get to South Beach Brawl the number one contender to the 4CW Championship. Eli and Tara are on their own, and as I told my husband on vacation? They can kill each other for all I care. Tonight is my night, and NOBODY is going to ruin it.”

With a smirk and a wink, Genevie walked off camera, the camera changing angles to watch her walk down the hallway, with her head held high confident with herself and what she was going to do later that night.

UNDERCARD
BRYAN WILLIAMS VS. CYRUS RIDDLE

JOHNSON: ”Well folks, we got another solid match here for you tonight. These two first matched against each other in Boardwa–”

VASSA: ”That shitshow? I’m pretty sure we’re going to have to beep that name out now.”

JOHNSON: ”Either way, these two have fought all over the place. Cyrus Riddle and Bryan Williams are about to step into the ring once again!”

VASSA: ”Once again Bryan will lose to Riddle. I liked what Riddle has been showing everyone lately, he’s got a mean streak. He’s going after Dakota Smith, there’s no way Bryan walks out of this one intact.”

JOHNSON: ”Well don’t count Bryan out just yet, the leader of Generation Now has always shown up to fight. This could be a turnaround night for him.”

VASSA: ”Or it could be just another shitshow from him too.”

JOHNSON: ”No faith in him, eh?”

VASSA: ”Nah, not really.”

“IT’S AN OMEN!!”

“Omen” immediately begins to play, the keyboard riff and drum machine backing the intense sound ripping out towards the audience. The song quickly kicks in, the backing sample playing over and over as the lights turn down. Strobes going along to the beat of the song, the crowd quickly gets into the song as they wait for Bryan’s arrival. The song continues to play for a few more moments, the beat settling out into a flat section.

“The writing’s on the wall.

It won’t go away.

It’s an omen, you just run the automation.

The writing’s on the wall.

It won’t go away.

It’s an omen…”

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

The song quickly picks up again, as 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! 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 waiting for Cyrus to make his way into the ring.

JOHNSON: ”Bryan out first tonight, he looks ready to go.”

VASSA: ”Riddle isn’t going to be his only worry here, there’s no way Matthias doesn’t respond from last time.”

JOHNSON: ”I’m sure we’ll hear from the Pride champion later tonight about what happened at the last Adrenaline. Right now though Bryan needs to stay focused on Cyrus Riddle.”

VASSA: ”Stop being such a buzzkill, Steve.”

Lights within the arena are killed as static fills the sound system and “Alpha and Omega” by King 810 begins to play subsequently.

“Welcome to the truth

God made me in his image

Who the fuck made you?

You want my voice from me?

You can have it, just know

I sound like this because the Devil has my throat.”

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

From behind the curtain, Cyrus Riddle emerges. With a black bandana wrapped around his face and a Kylla custom hooded leather vest decorated in blood splatter with two switchblades going through his initials designed on the back, he stands firm and examines the crowd with all to be seen on his face being his gaze. He holds up two fingers to the crowd with his arms outstretched before making his walk to the ring.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring. He weighs in at 230 pounds and hails from New York City by way of London, England. He is the Archetype! The Impaler! CYRUS RRIIDDDDLLEE!!!”

Cyrus approaches the ring with a confidence in his steps, accompanied only by the subtle hints of methodical approach as if to be zeroed in on a victim.

“Bitch! I am the powers that be!

I am Christ crucified on the T!

I am the alphaaaaa!

And the omegaaaaa!”

Cyrus’ ascends the middle outside turnbuckle as the chorus begins to play, pulling the bandana from his face and throwing the hood backward only to mouth the next part in imitation of the lyrics.

“I’m the Messiah, the gnashing of teeth

No one meets death until they see me!

I am the Alphaaaaa! And the Omegaaaaa!”

His trademark smirk followed by a tongue glide along his bottom lip can be seen as he looks around the arena and jumps down to climb between the top and middle ropes. In the middle of the ring, he removes his vest slowly to reveal his heavily tattooed body and physique, not without that always evident bit of arrogance. He tosses the jacket over to the ring attendant and stands in the corner calmly, awaiting.

JOHNSON: ”The fans are starting to buzz right now, this is definitely a match they wanted to see.”

VASSA: ”We’ve had a good show here tonight, Cashe and Dakota certainly set the tone.”

JOHNSON: ”No love lost here between these two, we’re almost ready to go!”

VASSA: ”Hang onto your butts, folks!”

DING!!! DING!!!

As the bell rings both men exit their corners and slowly approach each other in the center of the ring. With their eyes locked on one another, the two then take their stance as they begin to slowly circle each other. Making the first move, Bryan shoots in and wraps up Cyrus’ leg with both arms. He then lifts him up into the air before slamming him back first to the canvas. The double leg takedown stuns Cyrus for the moment, as Bryan begins to send rights and lefts down onto him. Bryan grabs the back of Cyrus’ head, sending his fist over and over into it. Soon enough referee Larry Collins steps in, calling for Bryan to stop with the closed fist shots. The distraction is enough for Cyrus to push Bryan away, allowing him to scurry to his feet.

Locking eyes once more, the two circle again. Taking charge, Riddle then lunges forward and the two lock up. Wasting no time, Riddle hooks his arm into Bryan’s and then delivers a stiff knee to the gut. Riddle throws a forearm into the face of Bryan, stunning him for the moment. Cyrus quickly wraps Bryan up into a hammerlock, twisting his right arm behind his back. Bryan yelps in pain, but quickly ducks behind him to reverse the hold! Cyrus looks for a way out, dropping to a knee as he tosses Bryan over his shoulder with a Snapmare! Bryan hits the mat, quickly popping up to be taken down with an Armdrag! Bryan quickly returns the favor, getting back to his feet and tossing Riddle with one as well! The two men stand to a standstill, the crowd seemingly ready for more!

JOHNSON: ”Good start from these two, a nice showing of athleticism.”

VASSA: ”Bryan is going to get caught showing off like that, just watch.”

Quickly back to his feet, Bryan lunges in for a forearm shot. Riddle side steps him, and pushes him towards the ropes. Bryan takes off, as Riddle quickly leaps over him on the rebound. Bryan hits the other side, and slides under the legs of Cyrus. Getting up to his feet he quickly locks in a headlock. Cyrus struggles for a moment, pushing his way out and getting a headlock of his own! Bryan tries to fight out of the hold, but Cyrus quickly takes him down to the mat. Bryan uses his legs to break the hold, trapping Cyrus in a leg scissors. Cyrus quickly does a headstand though, breaking out of the hold as he lands on his feet! Bryan has no time to react, as Cyrus catches him with a dropkick to his face! Cyrus wastes no time, quickly covering Bryan for the pin!

ONE

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Bryan Williams kicks out almost immediately. Cyrus Riddle is not really surprised, and picks up a dazed Bryan Williams. He tosses Bryan towards the ropes, trying for a clothesline that Bryan immediately ducks. Using his momentum he spins around to get behind Cyrus, grabbing his waist and tossing him to the mat with a German Suplex! Cyrus has no time to recover, as Bryan steps on his outstretched right arm! Cyrus recoils in pain, as Bryan quickly locks in a Kimura!

JOHNSON: ”Bryan already working over the arm of Cyrus Riddle there!”

VASSA: ”He’s not in a great position though, Cyrus has nothing to worry about right now.”

Cyrus Riddle grimaces in pain as Bryan Williams wrenches his right arm back. Bryan steps his right leg over Cyrus, doing what he can to get some leverage on the hold. Without body scissors controlling Cyrus, he’s able to roll through Bryan’s legs. Quickly grabbing Bryan in a pumphandle position, Cyrus lifts him up off of his feet! Bryan flips out, landing on his feet and catches Cyrus with a European Uppercut!

With Riddle lunged over from the uppercut, Bryan takes a few steps to the side and then runs forward, jumps into the air and hit Riddle in the side of the head with a single leg dropkick, knocking him down to the canvas. Pushing himself up instantly, Bryan doesn’t let up as he draws his attention to Riddle’s nearby leg. Taking a step forward, Bryan raises his foot up from the mat as high as he can before slamming it down and stomping on Riddle’s ankle. Riddle rolls over to his side and quickly grabs his right ankle. Bryan then squats down, trying to pick him back up with a Deadlift German Suplex! The crowd looks to be in shock, but Cyrus connects with a back elbow that causes Bryan to drop him. Bryan is stunned for the moment, but a quick Superkick drops Cyrus before he can do anything!

JOHNSON: ”Superkick out of nowhere!”

VASSA: ”Riddle doesn’t really look comfortable right now, Bryan is smothering him.”

Bryan doesn’t let up as he jumps into the air and comes down with a stomp across Riddle’s right shin. Cyrus roars out, obvious in pain, as Bryan uses his knee to create pressure on the leg. Bryan grabs Cyrus’ foot, pulling it towards him as he tries to bend the leg in half! Cyrus grabs at Bryan’s hair, quickly tossing him away from his limb. Cyrus tries getting up to a knee, but Bryan is right there to stop him. He grabs Cyrus, who pops up and catches him with a Spinebuster!

Both men get to their feet, ready to get back into this fight. Bryan then moves in quickly and grabs him by the head with both hands. He tries for a headbutt, but it seems to backfire! Bryan stumbles backwards, allowing for Riddle to connect with a Running Yakuza kick. With Bryan stunned, Cyrus grabs Bryan’s wrist and whips him to the corner. Just as Williams collides into the corner, Cyrus rushes in right behind him and nearly takes his head off with a running clothesline, lifting his feet up from the canvas. Bryan falls to heap on the mat, as Cyrus looks out towards the booing crowd.

JOHNSON: ”Just like that the tide turns, Cyrus Riddle is now starting to find his groove.”

VASSA: ”It’s all he needed, this match is all his now!”

Cyrus wastes no time, exploding forward as he grabs Bryan underneath the arms with both hands and tosses him across the ring with a T-Bone Suplex. With the match in his control, Cyrus picks Bryan up again. He quickly tries to throw him to the other side of the ring.Bryan does his best to reverse the attempt, but to no avail. With Bryan on skates, Riddle backs him to the opposite side of the ring and then drives his back into the corner with impact. Bryan slams hard into the turnbuckle, slumping over as he does. Riddle then unloads with a flurry of lefts and rights, clocking Bryan from every angle.

After landing nearly a dozen punches to the head and body, Riddle then locks both hands onto the middle ropes on each side of Bryan. He then uses them for leverage as he pulls himself forward and drives his shoulder into Bryan’s stomach. Pulling away, Riddle looks down at Bryan who has lunged over, holding his abdomen. Riddle then drops his arm slightly and fires upward, connecting with a European uppercut that stands Bryan straight up. Riddle then hits him with a second European uppercut, sending his head flying backwards. Once his head reaches it’s destination and comes back forward, Riddle hits him with a third European uppercut, knocking him into a daze.

JOHNSON: ”Series of vicious uppercuts right there. Look at how they just tear right into Bryan Williams!”

VASSA: ”Cyrus has some size to him now, he’s going to use all of it on Bryan tonight.”

Riddle then lifts Bryan up and sits him on top of the corner. Placing his foot on the middle rope, Riddle then pulls himself up but before he can get his second foot planted, Bryan grabs onto his head with both hands and then leaps forward. Pushing Cyrus backwards, Bryan flies forward with him underneath and as they come down, Bryan slams the back of Riddle’s head into the canvas. With Riddle’s head still in his clutches, Bryan then lifts it up from the mat and slams it back down, banging it against the mat. He then pushes himself away from Riddle and stands to his feet.

Riddle is quick to get back up, but Bryan catches him with a Roaring Elbow! The shot almost knocks Cyrus out, causing him to go out on his feet. Cyrus stumbles backwards, as Bryan takes a moment to try and recover. Bryan finally turns around, ready to continue to his assault. A quick front kick from Riddle stops him in his tracks. Riddle quickly grabs Bryan, and dumps him to the mat with a Swinging Neckbreaker! Bryan lands hard, as Cyrus lays on the mat for a quick moment. He takes a deep breath, smiling as the match is easily under his control at the moment.

JOHNSON: ”Cyrus Riddle is just picking apart Bryan Williams right now!”

VASSA: ”This is his for the taking!”

Slow to his feet, Cyrus gives Bryan enough time to get to his as well before the pain has a chance to settle in. Unfortunately the time was enough for Bryan to get up, as he has recovered in time. Bryan lunges forward with a forearm shot, leaping towards Cyrus. Ducking out of the way, Riddle side steps Bryan and quickly locks his arm underneath his extended one while positioning himself behind him, applying a half nelson. Riddle then wraps his other arm across Bryan’s neck and locks his hands together, applying a Katahajime choke hold!

Cyrus falls backwards, trapping Bryan in the hold. The two hit the ground, but Bryan rolls backwards and gets on his feet! Cyrus lets go of the hold, as Bryan drops to the mat and pulls Cyrus into his guard! In one swift motion he locks Cyrus into the Triangle Choke! The crowd cheers, as Cyrus immediately looks to get out of the hold. Lucky for him the ropes are nearby. He reaches out, but his hands can’t touch the rope. Turning his body he is able to get his foot on the rope, breaking the hold!

JOHNSON: ”Nice reversal there by Bryan! The Silent Night gets countered into a Triangle Choke!”

VASSA: ”Cyrus was smart enough to get to the ropes, good move by him.”

The crowd groans, thinking that Bryan had just stolen this one. With both men on their feet, the fight quickly begins again. Cyrus lays into Bryan with a forearm shot, but Bryan responds back with one of his own! Bryan pushes Cyrus backwards, slamming his open hand onto his bare chest! The resounding smack echoes throughout the Spectrum Center, and leaves a bright red mark on Riddle’s chest. Riddle grimaces in pain, but attacks again with another forearm. The shot stuns Bryan, knocking him backwards. Riddle connects with another one, and looks to connect with another!

As Riddle moves in Bryan catches him with a Bicycle Knee! The strike catches Riddle under the jaw, his legs immediately turning to jelly. Bryan grabs Cyrus before he can fall, the front chancery quickly turning into a vertical suplex attempt. As Bryan lifts Cyrus up, he quickly rotates him sending him crashing to the mat for the Rolling Release Suplex! The crowd cheers, as Bryan looks to be fired back up! Riddle stumbles back up to his feet, as Bryan levels him with a Spinning Backfist! The move causes Riddle to stumble backwards, hitting the ropes. Bryan catches him with another Bicycle Knee on the rebound! Riddle falls to the mat, as Bryan quickly makes the cover!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Both men lay on the mat, but Bryan is the first to stir. He quickly gets up to a knee, catching his breath. Bryan Williams gets back up, and turns around in time to see Cyrus Riddle charging at him! He ducks and back body drops Cyrus Riddle over the ropes and onto the floor. Riddle crashes to the floor, as Bryan looks out towards the crowd. They cheer him on, he takes a moment to wait for Riddle. Riddle finally stands up, as Bryan hits the ropes. Cyrus looks up and sees Bryan flying through the air at him! Bryan slams into him, the Suicide Dive connecting flush! Both men crash hard, laying on the outside motionless. The crowd tries to get behind Bryan, trying to will him back up to his feet. Larry Collins waits for a moment, starting his ten count as both men don’t move.

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

Cyrus and Bryan both start to stir, ignoring each other as they try to get back up to their feet. Cyrus is slower of the two, as Bryan grabs hold of the ring skirt to help himself back up.

“Six! … Seven!”

Bryan rolls into the ring, as Cyrus is still on the outside. He’s trying to get back into the ring, but he’s still a beat too slow.

“Eight!”

Cyrus finally stands up, as he takes a big deep breath!

“Nine!”

Cyrus rolls under the bottom rope, much to the despair of the crowd. Larry calls for the match to continue, as Bryan walks over to his downed opponent. Bryan looks to quickly end this match, setting Cyrus up for the Solar Flare Homicide! Cyrus fights back though, swinging himself out of the hold. Both men spin around, turning to face each other. Cyrus quickly strikes out, nailing Bryan with a stiff headbutt! Bryan has no chance to react, as Cyrus grabs him and pulls him into the Fisherman’s Suplex! He slams Bryan down to the mat, using the bridge to turn it into a pin!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Bryan has no chance to retaliate, as Riddle picks him up to his feet. Riddle smashes into him with a European Uppercut, staggering Bryan into the nearby corner. Riddle backs up a bit, charging at Bryan. With all of his momentum he connects with a Running European Uppercut, sending Bryan crashing to the mat! The crowd boos, as Riddle calls for the end of this match. Bryan drags himself to another corner, Riddle already laying in wait. He charges towards Bryan again, but Bryan gets up and connects with a Dropkick to the right leg of Cyrus! The shot sends him tumbling, causing him to flip and land hard into the corner!

JOHNSON: ”Bryan stops Riddle in his tracks!”

VASSA: ”It’s not going to stop him for long, Bryan has taken too much punishment in this match.”

Cyrus grabs at his right leg, but Bryan is already there! He pulls Cyrus out of the corner, attempting a Single Leg Boston Crab. Cyrus pushes him away with his other foot, getting back to his feet. Bryan swings wild, but misses as Cyrus traps his arm. He tries with his free hand, but Cyrus is able to trap that one as well! Cyrus connects with a Headbutt, sending Bryan into a daze. With Bryan turned around Cyrus slashes his throat, and goes for the DAYDREAMER!

Bryan ducks, and connects with a Superkick as Cyrus spins around! Stumbling towards Bryan it makes him easy prey, as Bryan lifts him up for the CTE! Before Bryan can send him crashing onto his knee, Cyrus reverses it into a Stunner! The crowd boos, as Cyrus quickly sets Bryan up for the Darkness Falls!

JOHNSON: ”Darkness Falls! He’s going to try and end this here!”

VASSA: ”Thanks for coming, Bryan!”

Cyrus takes his time, lifting Bryan up onto his shoulder. Again, he slashes his throat, as he goes to finish the move. The crowd cheers though, as Bryan is able to escape before the piledriver can connect! He slips out from behind Cyrus, catching him with the SOLAR FLARE HOMICIDE!

Both men lay on the mat, the crowd cheering Bryan on as he tries to get to his feet. Cyrus looks to be out of it, giving Bryan the time he needs to recover. He gets up to his feet, picking Cyrus up as he looks to finish this with the CTE! Again he lifts Cyrus up into the Vertical Suplex position, BUT CYRUS SLIPS BEHIND BRYAN AND LOCKS IN THE SILENT NIGHT!

JOHNSON: ”SILENT NIGHT IS LOCKED IN!”

VASSA: ”NO LOOK!”

Riddle quickly falls backwards, pulling Bryan down with him. Riddle then locks his legs around Bryan’s body, applying bodyscissors with the Katahajime still in tact. The crowd is in shock to see Cyrus locking this hold in so quickly! Bryan looks to be in trouble, the hold strangling him as he tries to break free. It looks to be in vain though, until Bryan quickly sends his legs over himself. The moment causes him to be bending over now, as Cyrus still has the hold locked in. With Cyrus’ shoulders now pinned to the mat, Larry Collins quickly makes a count!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Cyrus lets go of the hold, allowing him to kickout just in time! Cyrus moves to get up to his feet, but Bryan catches him with a Shining Wizard! He wastes no time in letting his opponent rest, quickly picking Cyrus back up to his feet. Bryan sets him up, lifting him up into the air and connecting with the CTE! He quickly covers Cyrus, as Larry Collins counts!

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, BRYANNN WILLIAAAMMSSS!!”

“Omen” begins to play as Bryan gets to his feet, raising his arm up in victory. The crowd cheers, celebrating his win as Riddle stays on the mat.

JOHNSON: ”Bryan had the Silent Night scouted all night, the first time he countered it. The second time he almost pinned Cyrus!”

VASSA: ”What a tremendous showing there, but Cyrus could have easily taken this match at any point tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”It definitely was his game early on, Bryan held on and was able to get the win.”

With his music playing, Bryan stands up to his feet. Cyrus rolls out of the ring, catching his breath as Bryan celebrates. Suddenly, the crowd goes from cheering to booing. Bryan looks over at the entrance, his face confused.

JOHNSON: ”What the hell?”

VASSA: ”It’s Gary the Assassin! Yay, Gary is here!”

Gary emerges from the back, almost dragging Lauryn Wolfe behind him. He tosses her onto the stage, she’s motionless as she collapses. Bryan watches as Gary laughs, the camera showing a badly beaten Lauryn Wolfe now at his feet. Gary doesn’t laugh for long, as Bryan Williams quickly exits the ring! He sprints full speed ahead, as Gary retreats to the back!

JOHNSON: ”Folks, don’t go anywhere! We’ve found a camera backstage, we’re going to catch up with Bryan and see what is going on!”

VASSA:”That midget has some retard strength! I love it!”

Before the cameras can transition backstage, the lights in the arena begin to flicker rapidly before complete darkness consumes everything.

VASSA:”AAHHHH!!!”

JOHNSON:”Let go of me, Vinny!”

VASSA:”I’m scared!”

Not even half a minute later, the lights come back on, illuminating everything beneath. Crawling on the floor, Cyrus Riddle comes into focus with a noose hanging from around his neck, the rope dragging the floor where it’s cut.

JOHNSON: ”Dakota’s been here.”

VASSA: ”You think?! I guess we’re all supposed to assume that noose is a fashion statement.”

JOHNSON: ”Mind games, that’s all this is. Dakota wants Cyrus to know he’s always lurking in the shadows.”

VASSA: ”And that’s what scares me the most.”

JOHNSON: ”What is th–“

VASSA: ”It’s a message!”

On Cyrus’ back, blood is smeared across his skin as if done so by a finger. The camera slowly moves in closer to Cyrus before focusing on his back at the message written in blood.

JOHNSON: ”D… S….”

VASSA: ”That’s Dakota’s initials.”

JOHNSON: ”At least it’s only written in blood. Could be a lot worse. Dakota could have carved it in his forehead.”

VASSA: ”You’re a sick man, Steve.”

JOHNSON: ”Let’s jump backstage real quick. The cameras have caught up with Williams and his pursuit of Gary!”

VASSA: ”I’ve never seen a midget run so fast in my life.”

The camera’s cut to the backstage area, we see Gary sprinting down the hallway as Bryan is not far behind. Gary turns a corner, as Bryan continues to give chase. Bryan goes to turn the corner, BUT IS BLASTED WITH A CHAIR! The crowd boos, as we see the Pride champion step out into the hallway. Chair in hand, Matthias Barrows grins as Bryan lays in a heap.

Matthias wastes no time, bringing the chair up and slamming it down over the back of Bryan Williams! Bryan grimaces in pain, as he tries to get to his feet. Matthias grabs him by the hair, and tosses him into the nearby wall!

BARROWS: “You’re nothing if not predictable!”

In his rage, Matthias dives on top of him and begins laying into him with right hands!

GARY: “Get him up!”

BARROWS: “It’s payback time!”

Matthias stands up, stomps on Williams stomach once more, and then begins dragging him by the hair as Gary leads the way to the men’s room. Inside, an empty bucket can be seen sitting next to the toilet Matthias has dragged him to.

BARROWS: “I’ve been looking forward to this for two weeks!”

Barrows clubs Williams across the back once more, then pulls him over to the toilet, which is filled with dark dirty bong water that reeks like pot!

Seeing what’s coming, Williams begins to mount an offense! He pushes Barrows away and tackles him to the ground, throwing rights and lefts! As he stands up to haul Matthias to his feet, Gary comes in from behind with a low blow! Williams doubles over and Barrows throws him head-first into the wall! Barrows takes a few minutes to collect himself before he pulls Black Betty out of the garbage can!

As Williams gets up to his feet, Barrows thrusts his weapon into his midsection, then swings hard into Williams right knee! Williams lets out a painful yell as he slumps back to the ground before Matthias drags him towards the toilet again! Wasting no time, Barrows dunks his head in the toilet.

BARROWS: “Try not to swallow, Bryan!”

Gary comes in and pushes the handle, revealing that Barrows had filled the tank with bong water as well! Soon after the flush, several officials break into the room with shouts of “That’s enough!” and “Break it up!” They pull Matthias and Gary away as Williams slumps over to the side holding his knee. Perry Wallace enters the room as well and immediately confronts the Pride Champion.

WALLACE: ”What the hell is the matter with you?!”

BARROWS: “It’s only a two hour show, so I’ll skip right to the end! Williams made me play his game to get the Pride Championship, now if he wants it back, he’s gonna play mine! I want an Ambulance Match at South Beach Brawl!”

WALLACE: ”An Ambulance Match?”

BARROWS: “And I want it in writing too!”

WALLACE: ”Heh, you serious right now? You’ve got to be kidding me. Get the hell out with that nonsense! You must have smoked yourself retarded on that little vacation of yours.”

Shaking his head, Perry looks back and forth between Bryan and Matthias with a smirk on his face as what has just happened between the two.

WALLACE: ”I’m going to need an ambulance if you two don’t get your shit together. The Pride Championship isn’t about ambulance matches. It’s about wrestling at it’s finest without all the crazy and wild stipulations that take away from that. You two went at it in a two out of three falls match at All Or Nothing. A match that required one fall to be a pin and the other to be a submission.

How about this. I’ll counter your offer of an ambulance match with something that shouldn’t leave any questions unanswered between the two of you as who the better man is. Do you two really need a stipulation attached to a match to prove who the better wrestler is? Whether it’s a regular match, an ironman match, a ladder match, a cage match, or even a fifty-one out of one hundred falls match, the end result is going to be the same. Just one fall between the two to prove who is the better man. That isn’t unreasonable, is it?”

With one last look at his challenger, Matthias swings Black Betty over his shoulder and leaves the room while officials check on Williams holding is knee with one hand while keeping the bong water out of his eyes with the other.

UNDERCARD
SATIVA NEVAEH VS. MATTHIAS BARROWS

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

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 4CW Pride Champion, ‘The King of Greens’, MATTHIAS BBAARRRROOWWSS!!!”

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

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

The lights go out and ”BRaCKiSH” by Kittie starts up. A spotlight finds Sativa Nevaeh standing at the top of the entrance ramp with the Extreme Championship draped over her shoulder. 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.

POWERS: “Coming to the ring, hailing from Los Angeles, California, Standing five feet seven inches tall and weighing in at one hundred and twenty-five pounds, she is the current and two time 4CW Extreme Champion, the ‘Blood Countess’, SATIVA NNEEVVAAEEHH!!!”

“She is not scared to die..

The best things in life drive her to cry.

Crucify then learn..”

Sativa ignores the jeers and hate from the crowd. She makes a circuit of the ring looking out at the crowd the entire time. She slides the Extreme belt into the ring then rolls under the bottom rope. She collects the Extreme Championship and heads to her corner. She hands the belt to the ref and then takes a seat on the top turnbuckle waiting for the match to start.

JOHNSON: ”Here we go folks, this is our first of two champion versus champion matches here tonight.”

VASSA: ”We have the Pride Champion taking on the Extreme Champion in a standard match where the winner will be decided without the use of weapons.”

JOHNSON: ”Matthias Barrows has been plowing through the members of Generation Now and tonight, he gets another one in the ring as he’ll face off against Sativa Nevaeh.”

VASSA: ”He and Bryan Williams have been going at it for quite a while now and things have heated up a bit as of late after Barrows defeated Williams for the Pride Championship at All Or Nothing.”

JOHNSON: ”After stealing the belt, he went out and officially made it his. There’s no doubt to the claim of him being the Pride Champion now.”

VASSA: ”Sativa has been through quite a lot as well. After losing the Extreme Championship to Dakota, she was able to defeat him at All Or Nothing to reclaim what was hers.”

JOHNSON: ”There’s a little controversy surrounding that match but at the end of the night, Sativa was the one with her hand raised as she was awards the Extreme Championship – then XTV Championship.”

VASSA: ”Champion versus champion matches are always fun, aren’t they?”

JOHNSON: ”They absolutely are. You get two individuals at the top of their game competing head to head in the ring. There’s nothing else like it!”

VASSA: ”I beg to differ. Put a championship on the line and the stakes are raised instantly.”

JOHNSON: ”There isn’t a championship up for grabs tonight but the match should be an exciting one nonetheless.”

As both wrestlers stand in their respective corners ready to get things underway, the official wastes no time and quickly signals for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Before the bell silences, both shoot from their corners and charge each other head on until colliding in the center of the ring in a furious exchange of punches. With the clear size advantage, Barrows pulls Sativa into a lifting knee to her gut. He then lifts her off her feet and onto her shoulders before falling back and laying her out with a Samoan drop. Barrows quickly pops back up to his feet and begins stomping on Sativa’s legs. Turning the attention to her right knee, he stomps on it a handful of times before grabbing her foot and rolling her over to her stomach. Lifting her foot as high as he can, and raising her knee up from the mat, he then slams it down, driving her knee into the mat.

Reaching down and grabbing ahold of her, he pulls her up to her feet before dragging her towards the corner and slinging her forward into it. As Sativa’s chest hits the corner, she bounces off and falls backwards into Barrows’ arms as he wraps them both around her waist. Lifting her off her feet, he goes for a German suplex but once at her highest level, Sativa rolls out of his arms and drops down to her feet as he hits the mat empty handed. Taking a few steps back, sativa awaits as he rises up to a seated position and once he does, she strikes. Running in, she leaps while swinging her legs around and hitting Barrows in the back of the head with a leg lariat.

Barrows Falls over to his side as Sativa pushes herself up from the mat. Rolling him over to his back, she then hops over him and rushes towards the nearby ropes. Coming back on the rebound, she hits him across the throat with a leg drop. Rising to her feet once more, Sativa then flips in the air, twisting and turning as she lands across Barrows with a standing corkscrew senton. Leaning back against Barrows, Sativa nonchalantly makes the cover as the official slides in beside them for the count.

ONE

.

.

VASSA: ”Tw–“

JOHNSON: ”Barrows kicks out!”

Standing tall, Sativa kicks him a few times in the ribs before pulling him up to his feet. Once standing, Barrows wraps both arms around Sativa’s waist and lifts her up above his head. As he does, she wraps her arm around his head but other than that is helpless as he holds her in a position to not do any damage. Moving towards the corner, Barrows goes to slam her against it but once close enough, Sativa extends her legs back and kicks off of it, driving Barrows backwards. Swinging her body around with Barrows off balance, Sativa pulls him down and plants his head into the mat with a tornado DDT! Barrows body flips over and he falls to his back. Crawling over him, Sativa goes for the pin as the official drops in for the count.

ONE

.

.

JOHNSON: ”NNOOOO!!!”

VASSA: ”Another kickout from Barrows just before the two count.”

Frustrated, Sativa pushes herself up and circles Barrows for a minute before sliding in to strike with a knee to the shoulder. She then pulls him up to his feet and whips him to the ropes. As Barrows comes back on the return, Sativa leaps straight up, locking her legs around his head. She then falls back to flip him over with a Frankensteiner but Barrows cradles her with both arms, preventing her from doing so. Pulling Sativa back up, Barrows then takes a few steps forward before dropping her with a sit-out powerbomb. Rolling over her and hooking her leg, Barrows goes for the pin as the official begins the count.

ONE

.

.

Kicking out from the pin attempt, Sativa breaks the officials count. Turning his attention to the official, Barrows complains about the count before waving the official off and standing to his feet. Stepping in beside Sativa, Barrows grabs ahold of her before dropping her back to the canvas with a Russian leg sweep. He then rolls her over to her stomach before grabbing both of her legs and locking in a Boston crab.

JOHNSON: ”Sativa’s in a bad spot with Barrows on top of her and that Boston crab locked in.”

VASSA: ”The weight difference between the two alone is enough to make this hard for her to escape.”

Sativa grunts in pain as the official kneels down beside her to check for a submission. Refusing to submit, Sativa fights through the agony. Laughing loudly, Barrows, pulls back on her legs, trying to snap her body in half. With nowhere, to go, Sativa fights to break free but just can’t as her movements grow slower and slower. Looking ahead, Barrows suddenly becomes furious at the sight of a fan in the front row holding a sign that catches his attention.

WILLIAMS > BARROWS

Releasing Sativa from the Boston crab, Barrows stands tall and marches across the ring. Stopping at the ropes, he leans over the top, pointing to the fan with the sign and mouthing off at him. Laughing with his friends, the fan begins mocking Barrows’ only making matters worse as Barrows grows even more angry. Dipping through the ropes, Barrows drops down to the floor as the official begins the ten count.

“One! … Two!”

Standing in front of the fan with only the barricade between them, Barrows reaches forward and rips the sign away from the fan before ripping it up right in front of his face.

“Three! … Four!”

The fan and his posse begin fussing at Barrows until one decides to throw a drink at him, spilling the liquid across his body.

VASSA: ”Woah now, this is getting out of hand!”

“Five! … Six!”

Barrows then lunges over the barricade, grabbing the fan by the shirt and pulling him in close as the two barely touch noses. Barrows then shoves the fan back into his group of friends, forcing them all to fall backwards into their seats.

“Seven! … Eight!”

JOHNSON: ”What are you doing?! You can’t do that to a fan!”

VASSA: ”Too bad he doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head because here comes Sativa!”

“Nine!”

Running to the ropes, Sativa leaps up and over the top. As she soars through the air towards Barrows, he slowly turns around and just as he faces her, she collides into his with a cross body, slamming his back against the barricade!

VASSA: ”OH SHIT!!!”

With Sativa now on the outside, the official restarts the ten count.

“One! … Two!”

Pulling Barrows up from the floor, Sativa then whips him into the side of the ring, slamming his back against it.

“Three!”

Rushing in, Sativa hits Barrows in the stomach with a running knee. She then pulls him away from the apron and drags him to the corner of the ring. Pushing him forward, she throws Barrows face first into the ring post.

DDDOOONNNGGG!!!

“Four!”

As Barrows turns around, he spots the nearby ringside personnel through his blurry vision. With the Extreme Championship in hand, the ringside crew member holds it up as a defense mechanism not knowing what Barrows will do to him.

“Five!”

Ripping the championship out of the crew members hands, he then turns to Sativa and takes a swing for the fences. Ducking underneath the championship as it passes overhead, Sativa then counters with an elbow shot to his stomach.

“Six!”

Grabbing onto Barrows, Sativa then rolls him into the ring as he keeps a firm grip on the Extreme Championship.

“Seven!”

Rising to his feet, Barrows wobbles back and forth, still blurry eyed from the head on collision with the ring post. Sativa then rolls underneath the bottom rope and enters the ring and just as she stands, Barrows blindly rushes in and takes another swing for her head!

VASSA: ”This is going to cost you Barrows!”

JOHNSON: ”Not if he can’t connect!”

Ducking down, Sativa thrusts her body forward, driving her shoulder into Barrows stomach, forcing him to release the championship. Sativa then pops straight up and locks onto his head with a three-quarter facelock. She then drops down to the mat, driving his face into the championship with a front-face bulldog!

JOHNSON: ”GOT EM!”

VASSA: ”She sure did!”

JOHNSON: ”And she wasn’t the one using the championship as a weapon so that’s perfectly legal.”

Rolling Barrows over to his back, she reveals his bleeding forehead. Rubbing her hand over his face and covering it in blood, she then smears it across the championship before crawling over him and making the cover.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”Sativa wins it after Barrows plan backfires in his face… literally!”

JOHNSON: ”If only Matthias would have kept his head in the game he could have won this match.”

VASSA: ”That wasn’t the case now, was it? Instead he bullied a fan and got taken down with a taste of his own medicine.”

“Brackish” hits the speakers as Sativa rises to her feet, grabbing the championship, and standing tall. Raising it above her head with one arm, she looks up at the blood covered faceplate as the official steps in beside her and raises her other arm declaring her the victor.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, SATIVA NNEEVVAAEEHH!!!”

The camera cuts to the backstage area where Gabriel Hartman is standing besides the current Fate champion, Tara Davidson. She is dressed in her ring gear in preparation for her main event match against Eli Carlson as she adjusts the Fate championship belt up higher upon her shoulder. She steps closer towards Hatman as she begins to clap her hands together while looking towards the camera with a small smirk on her face.

DAVIDSON: ”I suppose that congratulations are in order, aren’t they? I was paying very close attention to see just who would be the next opponent to challenge me for MY Fate championship belt and it was quite surprising to see that it is going to be Alexis Morrison. Although, not so surprising for me that tonight ended in nothing but disappointment for Jett Wilder. Once again, your chances of getting anything from me have become slim to none, but you should be used to this by now…right?”

Tara takes a moment to pause as she offers the camera a small wink as the smile grows wider on her face.

DAVIDSON: ”Try not to be too disappointed as you watch someone else step forward and fight for the opportunity you kept claiming was going to be yours. Not that it makes any difference to me in the end. I have no intentions of letting go of my hold on the Fate championship belt now that it has come back in my possession. My purpose is to elevate the Fate division into something bigger and better than it was before, something which is already set in motion with all the people fighting to earn the chance to be the one to stand across from me in the ring, hoping to get that much closer to the golden prize.”

Her hand begins to pat the golden plate of her championship belt as the camera focuses in closer upon the belt and the nameplate reading Tara Davidson which is exactly what she wants. For all of the attention to be on her championship belt as she keeps brushing her fingertips up against the golden plate soaking in the moment.

DAVIDSON: ”They’ll get closer to it for sure, but they are never going to take it away from me, and that’s the sad fate which awaits Alexis Morrison. So enjoy the victory tonight, enjoy the feeling of maybe becoming somebody here in 4CW because it’s all going to go away in the blink of an eye. I am the future of the Fate division and it’s going to take everything you have to even come close to being able to push me out of the picture. Although for tonight, my focus is upon my friend Eli, and I’m sure that’s what you were dying to ask me about. Wasn’t it? Well, I’m afraid that I have nothing left to say when it comes to Eli, because I’m going to save it all for out there in the ring tonight.”

Tara pushes the microphone away from her face as she turns on her feet and steps out of the range of the camera leaving Hartman standing there still holding the microphone without having said a single word.

UNDERCARD
SOUTH BEACH BRAWL CUP
ROUND TWO

JOHNNY EVIL VS. GENEVIE CARLSON

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

The lights dim in the arena as the intro to “Shut Your Mouth” by Pain begins to play. When the guitar kicks, pyro blasts from the stage as Johnny steps out from behind the curtain wearing one half of the 4CW Tag Team Championships with a smug arrogant smirk across his face, nodding his head slowly in approval as the audience boos in a rage…

“…The only thing I ever wanted

The only thing I ever needed

Is my own way, I gotta have it all…”

Johnny steps around on the stage for a moment looking from side to side around the arena, mocking the audience before taking a few steps down the ramp.

“…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…

Just wipe your own ass and shut your mouth”

Johnny Evil stops halfway down the entrance ramp and walks over toward the barricade, beginning to trash talk an audience member. After a moment of trash talk, Evil spits at the man before continuing to walk down the rest of the ramp and slide into the ring.

POWERS: ”From Detroit Michigan, weighing in at two-hundred and twenty-five pounds, he is one half of the 4CW Tag Team Champions… JOHNNY EEVVIILL!!!”

Johnny stands to his feet and paces around as the audience boos louder, before leaning against the ropes and relaxing in the corner before the bout.

VASSA: ”I really wish Johnny Evil was still in jail. I was getting used to not having to see his stupid face very often.”

JOHNSON: ”Is there anyone on the roster that you like when they’re facing one of our wonderful female competitors?”

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

“Ah ah ah yep yep yep

The baddest bitch is back,

I’m back part 2, part 2

I’m reloaded and I’m killin you hoes”

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

POWERS: ”Coming to the ring from Boston, Massachusetts, weighing in at 136lbs, she is ‘The Boston Genie’, GENEVIE CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

VASSA: ”There’s your next 4CW Champion.”

JOHNSON: ”You might be right, Vinny, but she’s going to have to get through Johnny Evil and then either Scott Stevens or Bronx Valescence to have a shot at it.”

VASSA: ”Nobody likes Johnny Evil, Steve. Even his own partner hates him. He’s got no chance.”

JOHNSON: ”Well there’s certainly no love lost between himself and Genie. The two have been going back and forth at each other in their promotional work and on twitter all week long.”

VASSA: ”Do you think Maddox Lucien really is alive?.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know but if he is it’s because someone snuck him into the lazarus pit or into a WWH doctor’s office.”

VASSA: ”Jack Vaughn tried framing Perry Wallace for giving the order of his death, and now Jack in locked behind bars.”

After checking with the two competitors the referee signals or the bell and the start of the match.

DING!! DING!!

Shot out of a cannon as soon as the bell ring, Genie meets Evil as just as he steps out of his corner and catches him off guard with a brutal forearm straight to the jaw. She’s quick to back him up into the corner and stand him up straight with a knife edged chop. Wincing, Evil grabs at his chest but Genie swipes his hand away and delivers another chop. And then another. And then another. And, hell, like DJ Khaled said… another one. Surprised and in pain, Evil stumbles out of his corner as Genie locks onto his wrist and then whips him across the ring. Instead of waiting for him to come back, she follows closely behind him and as soon as he rebounds off the ropes she brings a knee up into his abdomen and then drops him down to the mat with a quick ddt.

Rolling back to her feet, Genie takes a hold of Evils hair and pulls him back up, slapping him across the face viciously which quickly brings him back from his daze into sharp, crystal clear reality. As Genie swings again, Evil blocks her attempted strike and then wraps his hands around her head and drives his forehead into hers. The maneuver hurts them both but it puts a quick end to the early momentum that the former Royal Family princess had. When Evil tries to continue his attack, though, Genie quickly stomps on his foot and then drives a hard kick to the side of his knee, buckling him down to a kneeling position. She then wraps her arms around his head and leaps, driving his face down into her knee as her foot planted back on the mat.

Clutching at his jaw, Evil rolls away from Genie and out of the ring as she flexes her muscles at him, taunting him to get back into the ring.

VASSA: ”Early advantage to the future 4CW Champion.”

JOHNSON: ”Would you knock that off? There’s still plenty of match left to go..”

With Evil on the ground, Genie quickly drops and swings a leg over his chest and begins pummeling him with vicious rights and lefts that quickly turn into hammerfists. It’s all Evil can do to cover up and try to avoid the blows but each one comes down with greater intensity, consistently breaking through the guard he had put up to try and defend against him. In a last ditch effort to put an end to the assault, Evil grabs onto Genies wrist and then uses his hips to twist and torque in a direction that tosses her off of him. Quickly she spins back to her feet as Evil stands and charges her, leaning down and driving his shoulder into her abdomen, picking her up off her feet, carrying her to the corner and slamming her down against it with all the force he can muster.

Grabbing at her back to soothe the pain, Genie is left open to an assault from her opponent who is quick to take advantage of the opportunity before him. Mimicking the chops that he had received earlier from Genie, only with stomps, Evil repeatedly stomps Genies midsection until she’s down in a seated position in the corner. He then makes his way across the ring to the opposite corner and turns around, a devilish smirk crossing his lips before running across the ring and leaping into the air, both of his legs comming down on either side of Genie’s head where he begins to bounce up and down executing a perfect bronco buster before pulling himself out of the corner and off of her.

VASSA: ”Stop that right now!”

JOHNSON: ”I doubt that’s a view that she’s unaccustomed to, given her reputation before her marriage, Vinny..”

VASSA: ”That’s in the past!”

JOHNSON: ”But it’s still funny.”

Back on his feet, Evil pulls Genie out of the corner by her, lifting her up onto his shoulder and then running her back first into the corner, letting her hang down with her legs on either side of the top turnbuckle. With a chuckle, Evil drives a foot into her abdomen once more before turning around and leaping into the air, his foot swinging over her head in an attempt to execute a Pele Kick to her groin, a maneuver he calls a Coat Hangar Abortion, but Genie managed to drop down out of the tree of woe position in the nick of time as Evil crashed to the mat awkwardly, with his leg twisting awkwardly as he did so.

Both Genie and Evil are slow to get back to their feet but when they do, Evil rolls Genie up and as the referee slides in to count he props his legs up on the middle rope to add additional leverage to the pinfall attempt.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–KICKOUT!!!

Angrily Genie kicks out and rolls back to her feet at the same time as Evil does, laughing at her displeased expression. He sets himself upon her but as he does so Genie quickly wraps around behind him and drags him down to the mat, rolling him up as well and hooking his tights to add leverage to the pinfall attempt of her own. Once more the referee slides in to count the attempt.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THRE–KICKOUT!!!

At the absolutely last moment Johnny Evil managed to kickout, his own expression warping from smug a few moments earlier to enraged that Genie had tried to steal the win even though he had done the same thing a few seconds prior. Charging across the ring, Genie is ready for him, ducking under a stiff right hand from Evil and catching him with a Pele Kick of her own that drops him to the mat.

VASSA: ”Pele Kick from Genie!”

JOHNSON: ”Is she still calling that the Ode to the Prince even though they’ve dropped that whole bit now?.”

VASSA: ”I don’t know but I hope it caved his stupid face in.”

JOHNSON: ”There you have it, ladies and gentlemen, unbiased and objective commentary all the time here in 4CW.”

Slowly, Evil climbs back to his feet in a daze with a waiting Genevieve ready to pounce as he does. As she closes in on him she bends down and grabs him by the ankles, lifting him up onto her shoulders, spinning and then slamming him down to the mat with a picture perfect Alabama Slam. As soon as he makes contact with the mat and rolls to his side, Genie drops down beside him and begins doing push-ups, taunting him and counting each one outloud while waiting for him to push himself back up.

Slowly he gets back up to both knees as Genie hops back up to her feet, charging across the ring and bouncing off the ropes, coming back and driving the shin of her left leg into his sternum, causing him to bend backward awkwardly. As she slides past him after connecting on the move, she immediately spins back to her feet behind him and then lines him up, charging back in his direction and hooking her hands around his head, flipping over him and driving him face first down to the mat.

VASSA: ”Yes. There we go! BOW DOWN JOHNNY EVIL YOU PIECE OF CRAP!”

JOHNSON: ”He’s certainly in a dangerous predicament right now.”

Off to his side, Genie waits patiently for him to push himself back up to this hands and knees. The entire arena can feel what’s coming now, the tension around the arena building as the Boston Genie sits, waiting to finish the match of once and for all. Finally, Evil pushes himself up to his hands and knees and Genie takes off at a sprint, leaping into the air. As she does “Raw” by Bad Meets Evil blares over the public address system, catching her attention. Instead of planting her boot on the back of Evil’s head and putting him away she steps past him and turns her attention directly up towards the top of the entrance ramp. On the big screen Wallace’s face flashes with various clips of him appearing.

VASSA: ”What could he possibly want right now?! GO AWAY WALLACE NOBODY LIKES YOU!”

JOHNSON: ”I… Oh my God Evil’s back on his feet!”

VASSA: ”AHHHH GENIE WATCH OUT!”

JOHNSON: ”Evil spins her around. BOOT TO THE STOMACH!”

The distraction was all that Johnny Evil needed to get back into the match, popping back to his feet and spinning Genie around to face him, a look of shock on her face as his boot drove into her stomach. Before anyone in the arena knew what was happening, Evil had Genie lifted up into a powerbomb position and then had driven her down with a lunblower.

VASSA: ”No! This can’t be happening! No!.”

JOHNSON: ”FALL FROM SHANGRI-LA!!!!!”

As Evil quickly rolled over and hooked Genie’s leg in a pinfall attempt, Perry Wallace appeared at the top of the stage with a smirk on his face. For a moment the referee looked back and forth from Wallace to the situation in the ring before realizing what he needed to do, dropping down to count the pin.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

At the top of the entrance ramp, Wallace claps approvingly at the result, laughing to himself as Johnny Evil was helped back to his feet with his hand raised in the air in victory as Mike Powers announced the result from the DJ Booth.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner and first finalist in the 2017 South Beach Brawl Cup… JOHNNY EEVVIILL!!!”

Unsure of what to think about what happened, a look of relief and joy at having pulled the match out by the skin of his teeth is etched into his face while Genie is starting to come back around.

VASSA: ”Wallace just cost Genie a spot in the finals of the South Beach Brawl Cup. This is an absolute injustice!”

JOHNSON: ”I have to admit I agree with you, Vinny. Genie was on top of her game tonight and gave Johnny Evil all he could handle and more. But Perry Wallace gave him the extra little bit of help he needed with the distraction to claim a spot in the finals.”

VASSA: ”Something needs to be done! Someone needs to take a stand!”

JOHNSON: ”I doubt there’s anything to be done but if I had to guess there’s going to be serious consequences and repercussions resulting from his actions.”

As the scene begins to fade backstage, the final shot is of a frustrated and furious Genie staring up the entrance ramp and a rather jovial Perry Wallace who seems to have gotten his revenge for her attack on him on the previous episode of Adrenaline.

UNDERCARD
ADRIAN TANNER JR. VS. PERSEPHONE MARQUIS

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

The house lights dim to black and a video begins to play on the screen.

E A R T H A R M Y

RECRUITMENT CENTER

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.”

As the alarm goes off, the screen shatters into a million pieces as “Tom Sawyer” by Deadsy booms through the speakers and Adrian Tanner Jr appears standing in the middle of the stage, head covered by the hood of his ring jacket, 4CW World Tag Team Title belt around his waist. 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 ONE-HALF of the 4CW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS of the WOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRLD, ‘The Arizona Assassin’… ADRIAN TANNER JJUUNNIIOORR!!!”

As 4CW’s esteemed Ring Announcer does his job, Adrian raises both arms over his head letting them come to rest stretched out in front of him, pointing like guns at the ring. At the announcement of his name he ‘fires’ and loud fireworks explode from the stage as the crowd cheers in approval. The red spotlights make a circle through the crowd while the white spotlights pulse in tune with the music for a very dizzying effect, as the Arizona Assassin makes his way down the ramp. He walks down the ramp towards the ring, slapping hands with a few fans before he pulls the jacket off as he slides under the ropes. He mounts the nearest turnbuckle and makes a gun motion with his left hand. He cocks the “gun”, “fires” then jumps down and begins his pre-match warmup, taking the belt off from around his waist and placing it in his corner.

POWERS: ”And the opponent!”

“Loyal” by Chris Brown begins playing over the speakers 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.

Not wasting any time to get things underway, the official quickly calls for the bell, officially starting the match.

DING!!! DING!!!

As the bell echoes throughout the arena, both Tanner and Marquis exit their corners and slowly approach one another until standing just a few feet apart in the center of the ring. After circling one another for a short moment, the two lock up. Having the advantage in strength, Tanner pulls Marquis head down, applying a side headlock. Instantly, she plants her hand into his lower back and thrusts forward, pulling her head away from him and sending him towards the ropes. Coming back on the rebound, Marquis ducks to flip him over her back but is quickly met with a boot to the mouth as Adrian kicks his foot up, standing her straight up.

Moving in, Tanner slaps her across the chest with multiple knife-edge chops, backing her up against the ropes. Locking onto her head, he pulls her away from the ropes before jumping up and falling back, pulling Marquis face over his knee with a facebreaker. Back on his feet, he drags her away from the ropes and within jumping distance from the nearby corner. Climbing to the top with his back turned to the ring, Tanner is unaware as Marquis quickly pops back up to her feet and races in behind him.

Grabbing the back of his pants, she pulls him down from the corner, slamming him onto his back. Climbing the corner herself, she quickly turns to face him and leaps straight up before he can even begin to get back to his feet. As gravity pulls her down, Marquis lands onto Tanner’s chest with a double foot stomp. Bouncing off of him like a trampoline, she darts for the ropes and as she comes back on the return, she slides feet first across the mat, planting both into the side of Tanner’s head.

JOHNSON: ”Tanner got the jump on her from the start but just like that, Marquis has turned things around and has The Arizona Assassin on the mat.”

VASSA: ”I was surprised there for a second when she grabbed his pants. I didn’t know whether or not they were going to come down and is she was going to eat them groceries.”

JOHNSON: ”This is a wrestling match, Vinny. You disgust me!”

VASSA: ”It wouldn’t be the first time she ate ass in the ring.”

Pulling Tanner up from the mat, Marquis lays into him with lightning fast kicks to the legs. After landing a few to his thigh, she then kicks one last time, catching him in the side of the knee and forcing it to give out on him as he drops down to it. Turning to the ropes behind her, Marquis takes off for them quickly and comes back even quicker. As she closes the gap between the two, she levels him with a step-up enziguri. Crawling over Tanner, she then goes for the pin as the official slides in beside them with the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

Kicking out before the officials hand can slap the canvas for a second time, Tanner escapes the pinfall attempt. Pushing herself back to her feet, her eyes shift to his hand extended out by his side. Raising her foot up from the mat, she then stomps down on his fingers. Instantly, Tanner draws his hand in, holding it with his other but leaving his midsection exposed as Marquis begins kicking his ribs and stomping on his stomach. Pulling Tanner up from the mat, Marquis goes on the attack with a fury of kicks and punches, backing him towards the corner. Just as Tanner feels the corner against his back, he pushes Marquis away and then ducks a right aimed for his head. Firing back, Tanner connects with an elbow to the side of her head.

VASSA: ”Tanner with a nice elbow to the temple to halt Queefs momentum there.”

JOHNSON: ”That gives him the space he needed to start clawing his way back into this match now.”

Tanner drives his knee into Marquis stomach and then lifts her up into the air, dropping her stomach first across the same knee before shoving her down to the mat. Leaping over her he takes off towards the opposite ropes and rebounds, running back toward her and leaping into the air, landing a senton across her back, causing Marquis to grasp at her back and roll over in pain. Tanner once more pushes himself back up, taking off towards the ropes and leaping into the air, using the middle rope to springboard moonsault back in the direction of Persephone Marquis, landing with his abdomen squarely across her upper torso. Instead of seeking the cover, Tanner pulls himself back up to his feet and drags Marquis up by the hair with him.

Moving behind her, Tanner wraps his arms around Marquis neck and tosses her over his head with an exploder suplex that sends her crashing across the ring into a seated position in the corner. Popping back to his feet, Tanner senses an opportunity and moves across the ring to the opposite corner. For a brief moment he lines Marquis up before pointing both of his hands in her direction with finger guns extended, shouting bang before taking off and leaping into the air in her direction. It’s bad news for Persephone as she took the 397 hour flight to Charlotte and all she got was a lousy boot to the face. With momentum fully in his favor, Tanner bounces up to his feet and lets out a guttural cry, the fans exploding with cheers at the very same moment.

JOHNSON: ”We’ve seen Tanner set up that corner drop kick time and time again. Somehow his opponent’s are still eating it week in and week out.”

VASSA: ”I’m not sure you have much choice after a flawlessly executed exploder suplex like the one he just used.”

JOHNSON: ”Maybe not but whatever the case may be he’s certainly doing his best to prove to Marquis that he can hang with her on any given Wednesday.”

VASSA: ”I feel like Al Pacino could star in a movie with that title.”

Remaining focused, Tanner moves to pull Marquis out of the corner and, after bringing her back up to a vertical base, is met with a quick right hand from Persephone. Tanner absorbs it and returns fire with a knife edged chop to her chest. Locking onto her wrist, Tanner whips her across the ring. When she comes back, Tanner quickly tosses her across the ring with an arm drag takedown. Marquis works her way back to her feet and charges at Tanner once more, and a second time she’s taken down with another arm drag. A third time Marquis fights back up to her feet and turns back in Tanners direction. This time, instead of an arm drag, Tanner ducks under her attempted clothesline and places both knees into her back, hooking her by the neck and pulling her down with a double knee backbreaker which he quickly transitions into a straightjacket submission hold.

He only manages to hold onto it for a few moments before a panicked Persephone manages to work her way out of it, crawling across the ring to the nearest set of ropes she could find and slipping out of the ring. Not willing to allow her to get any separation, Tanner pops back up to his feet and dashes across the ring, showing off his agility as he deftly hops up to the top turnbuckle before leaping off to catch a shocked Marquis with a tornado ddt, driving her head and his back into the barricade nearby. The thud of the impact is sickening, causing the crowd to wince and groan as they look on, cheering and urging both competitors back to their feet.

JOHNSON: ”Week in and week out Tanner willingly puts his body on the line.

VASSA: ”And it’s fun to watch, sure. But sometimes these high risk aerial maneuvers cost him matches.”

JOHNSON: ”You might be right but you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Tanner has been doing this long enough. He’s set in his ways.”

VASSA: ”Just saying, his record might be even better than it already is if he just would play it safe every now and then.”

With both wrestlers now on the outside, the official begins the ten count.

”One! … Two!”

Standing to his feet first, Tanner pulls Marquis up from the floor but as he does, she pushes him away and backwards into the side of the ring. Rushing forward, Marquis lunges towards Tanner but misses as he side steps her and forces her to eat the side of the ring as he trips her up with a drop-toe hold, forcing her to crash face first into the apron.

”Three! … Four!”

Back on his feet, Tanner pulls Marquis to hers and then lifts her up onto his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. Positioning himself beside the edge of the ring, he then spins her body around and drops her face first onto the top of the apron. Before she can fall to the floor, he grabs ahold of her and rolls her back into the ring. Once she is back in the ring he follows suit, stepping through the ropes and back into the squared circle. Marquis, having recovered only slightly, waves a lazy right in his direction and Tanner skirts it, wrapping his arms around her midsection and tossing her over his head with a belly to belly suplex.

As he does so he cringes momentarily, grabbing at his back where he had crashed into the barricade a few moments prior. Slowly he makes his way over to the nearest corner and leans against it, relaxing for a moment but giving Marquis time to gather herself after absorbing the suplex Tanner had just executed. The fans start a slow clap that picks up in pace, urging both Tanner and Marquis back into the fight that they were enjoying watching so much.

Marquis finds her way back to a vertical base as Tanner drags himself out of the corner, ready to engage his opponent once more. Persephone takes it upon herself to lead the assault, moving across the ring quickly and planting her foot against Tanners thigh, stepping up to attempt an enziguri that Tanner quickly pushes her away from being able to connect. Deftly, Marquis lands on her feet and moves back in his direction, swinging with a left hand designed to take Tanners head off his shoulders. Instead, Adrian ducks it and catches Marquis. In the blink of an eye before anyone could see it coming.

VASSA: ”REVOLVER! OH MY GOD”

JOHNSON: ”Tanner just caught Marquis out of nowhere!”

Tanner rolls her over onto her back but instead of going for the cover he decides to stand up and taunt the fallen women, certain beyond a shadow of a doubt after hitting his finishing maneuver that he had the match in the bag. Laughing as he stands over her, Tanner points down at Marquis with a single finger gun and fires it at her, shouting the words “Bang! You go dead now,” at her before turning to extend his arms out cockily. He circles Marquis as he does so before finally bending down to pick pull her back up to her feet once more.

VASSA: ”What the hell is he doing?! Pin her!”

JOHNSON: ”Apparently Tanner isn’t done with her just yet.”

Tanner holds Marquis lifeless body up, preparing to deliver a second Revolver to put the match away for good. Just as he was about to execute the maneuver, however, Marquis gets a second burst of energy out of nowhere, shoving Tanner away from her before leaping into the air and catching him flush to the face with a dropkick!

VASSA: ”Adrian had her right where he needed her but somehow, Queef was able to counter with dropkick to the face.”

JOHNSON: ”Adrian can be lethal inside of the ring but at times, he can be a little too cocky.”

Circling Tanner, Marquis then steps in and delivers a punt to his ribs, flipping him over to his back. Climbing over Tanner, she begins pounding away at his skull with quick rights and follows up with a solid left to the ear. With Tanner in a daze underneath her, she steps forward and hovers just above his face. Living up to her reputation, she then squats onto his face but before she can begin grinding back and forth, Tanner grabs the back of her pants and pulls her down to the mat, rolling her up. The official is quickly caught off guard but rushes over and drops in beside them for the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THR–

Kicking out at the last split second, Marquis dodges a bullet as she breaks up the pin. The two then roll in opposite directions before pushing themselves back to their feet. Charging towards one another, the two collide in the center of the ring in an exchange of blows. Knocking Marquis off balance, Tanner then kicks her in the stomach, forcing her to buckle over from the impact. He then pulls her head up and grabs the back of her pants, lifting her up into the air for a suplex. Before their descent, Marquis manages to squirm her way out of his arms and drops down to her feet behind him.

Spinning around, Tanner throws a wild elbow for her head but comes up short as she counters with a knee to the inside of his thigh. Grabbing onto his head, Marquis then drops him to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker. Rolling to the edge of the ring, Tanner pulls himself up with the ropes but before he can stand, Marquis closes in and greets him with a running knee to the gut. Pulling him away from the ropes, she then whips him to the nearby corner but before she knows it, Tanner reverses the throw and sends her racing to the corner instead.

Quick on her feet, Marquis leaps forward, planting both feet onto the middle ropes and slingshotting herself off. Spinning in mid-air, she locks her arms around Tanners head as he stands, not expecting a counter. Swinging her body around and pulling his along for the ring, Marquis drives Tanner’s head into the canvas with a springboard tornado DDT!

VASSA: ”That’s money!”

JOHNSON: ”Out of nowhere Marquis pulls off the Petty Cash, laying him out instantly upon impact.”

Rolling over Tanner to make the cover, Marquis hooks his leg as the official begins the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

JOHNSON: ”Marquis earns another win here tonight folks.”

VASSA: ”She’s been on a hot streak since Winter Wasteland, taking down anyone placed in front of her.”

JOHNSON: ”We already know how South Beach Brawl is shaping up to be with the current championship matches, but afterwards she has to be getting back into the title picture.”

“Loyal” hits the speakers as Marquis rises to her feet with confidence. Stepping in beside her, the official raises her arm into the air as the bell echoes throughout the arena.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, PERSEPHONE MMAARRQQUUIISS!!!”

The camera slowly panned up to the locker room door of Bronx Valescence, when the camera panned across the name in big bold letters the crowd gave a massive pop. The door opened and Bronx pulled on his long ring jacket and then followed by his signature aviators which he placed on slowly and then poured a bottle of water over his head before he began walking down the hallway.

Flipping his hand through his hair, Bronx paused as he glanced over his shoulder and instead of turning to head to the ring, he began to walk the other direction with more of a purpose. Everyone in the tournament had been showing their way into the path of Eli, the 4CW Champion. Everyone but Bronx, it was time to put his name into the argument as well. People needed to remember that he was in this tournament as well.

Going to make a statement, Bronx found himself in front of the door of the 4CW champion, mustering up the courage, he lifted his hand up to knock, to give the champion a piece of his mind but then he lowered it and sighed as he shook his head.

VALESCENCE: “One match at a time…One day at a time…But someday…Someday.”

Sighing, Bronx nodded and turned his back on Eli’s door to head toward the ring for his next tournament match.

We cut to the backstage area, outside of Johnny Evil’s locker room. The camera is backed up a little ways from the door, with the view pointed away from the floor but you’re still able to see what looks like a string or some kind of wire attached to something out of shot immediately outside the door. A hand slowly comes into view from the right side of the camera shot, knocks on the door and then disappears. You can hear light running off screen. A few seconds pass and the door opens revealing Johnny Evil, fresh after his match with Genevie Carlson.

EVIL: ”Yo-“

He stops, quickly realizing that nobody’s there.

EVIL: ”The fuck?”

He takes a look to the right and left side, still nobody. He starts to walk out the door when his foot catches the wire and he stumbles forward.

Right at that moment a cardboard cut out of Adrian Tanner Junior, posed to have him flipping Johnny off with both hands, springs up into his view.

EVIL: ”OH SHI-“

Evil slams into the cut out and he and it go falling down to the floor below with him landing on top of it, coming face to face with the smirking cardboard face of his nemesis-slash-tag-team-partner. Evil goes to roll off, wincing in the shooting pain going through his ankle.

EVIL: ”Aw fuck!”

He slowly rolls off the cut out to his back, being careful not to roll his ankle too much. He pushes himself up to an almost sitting position with his arms and glares back at the cut out.

EVIL: ”What an asshole.”

Evil laughs slightly then shakes his head, an annoyed, yet almost impressed look on his face as the cameras cut elsewhere.

HEADLINE
SOUTH BEACH BRAWL CUP
ROUND TWO

BRONX VALESCENCE VS. SCOTT STEVENS

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

The “Stranger Things” intro starts to kick over the house speakers as the fans give their initial pop when smoke begins to fill the stage. As the remix to “Starboy” kicks in, Bronx slowly makes his way out on stage. Pausing in the middle of the stage, he turns sideways and points a finger gun towards the ring before he pulls the trigger and gives a loud, audible laugh before he continues down the ramp, a smug grin on his face as he slaps hands with hands on either side of the ramp.

POWERS: ”Making his way to the ring from Portland, Oregon, weighing in at two hundred and five pounds… He is BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”

When Bronx gets down to the end of the ramp, he uses one leap onto the ring apron, and then spins around, holding onto the ropes before rising his feet on the apron and walking over to his corner and using the ropes to vault into the ring. Opening his arms out to either side he spins until he bounces into the ropes and poses one time for the fans before smirking and removing his ring jacket and sunglasses, neatly placing them underneath his corner turnbuckle before leaping onto the top turnbuckle to sit.

JOHNSON: ”Here he is, Bronx Valescence has an opportunity here tonight to become a finalist in the South Beach Brawl Cup for the second year straight.”

VASSA: ”It was VERY unfortunate what he went through last year once making it to the finals but he has a chance to make up for that.”

JOHNSON: ”Although the bracket was smaller than last years, there’s no doubt that the level of competition was still very high from the start.”

VASSA: ”Bronx’s first round match was very competitive. Tonight will be nothing less as he’ll face the man who challenged Elijah Carlson for the 4CW Championship at All Or Nothing.”

JOHNSON: ”That would be Scott Stevens and he’s coming up next!”

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…”

As he finally gets to the ring, he climbs the nearest turnbuckle and stares down at his opponent.

POWERS: ”This… is… SCOTT SSTTEEVVEENNSS!!!”

An icy glare and the throat slash gesture his only actions as he drops to the mat.

VASSA: ”Scott Stevens damn near beat Eli at All Or Nothing and became the 4CW Champion.”

JOHNSON: ”Almost just doesn’t cut it because at the end of the night, it was Eli who had his hand raised high in the air after the bell.”

VASSA: ”If anyone has the inside scoop on beating Eli, it has to be Stevens. He’s the only person left in the tournament who has taken Eli to his limits and damn near pushed him over the edge.”

JOHNSON: ”Say what you want about Stevens. He came into 4Cw at first playing to the Captain Planet gimmick but over the last few months he’s really turned things around and has become a name to be feared within the 4CW rankings.”

VASSA: ”Well I don’t think Bronx is afraid of him. Both of these men want what’s waiting for them at the end of this tournament. Everyone still in it and those who once were all want what’s on the line.”

JOHNSON: ”4CW Championship matches don’t come by too often so when they do, you just need to reach out as far as you can and grab it while you have the chance.”

In the center of the ring, the official is eager to call for the bell. First, he checks in with Bronx who points across the ring to Stevens with the finger gun and fires a shot, giving the signal to the official that he’s ready to get things underway. The official then turns to Stevens who stands patiently in the corner with his eyes locked dead ahead on Bronx. Pointing to himself, Eli’s lips begin to move as the camera zooms in and focuses in as his lips read “It Me.” Nodding at the official, Stevens then pulls on the ropes a bit to stretch. With both men now ready to get things going, the official throws his hand into the air and calls for the bell.

DING!!! DING!!!

Just like a bull, Stevens erupts from his corner and charges across the ring at full speed. As he closes in, he ducks his head as he leans forward, lunging at Bronx. Rolling out of the way with his back against the ropes, Bronx avoids Stevens clutches as the Texan crashes into the corner empty handed. Spinning around to face Bronx, Stevens throws wild power punches for The Starboy but misses each time as Bronx steps back, ducking out of the way. Lunging forward to lock onto Bronx, Stevens misses as he ducks underneath and steps in behind him. Grabbing ahold of Stevens, Bronx then pulls him down to the mat in a small package as the official races over for the first pin attempt of the night only mere moments after the sound of the bell.

ON–

Kicking out before the officials hand can slap the mat for the first time, Stevens breaks the pin attempt and sends Bronx flying backwards in the air as he kicks his legs straight. Landing on his feet, Bronx charges in to Stevens as he pushes himself up to one knee. Bursting upward, Stevens wraps both arms around Bronx and lifts him high into the air before planting him into the canvas with a tackle, driving his shoulder into Bronx’s stomach.

Bronx gasps for air as his breath escapes his lungs. Pushing himself up, Stevens moves towards Bronx’s head before hitting him with a knee drop to the face, using the brace around his knee for extra damage. Standing back up, Stevens does it a second time and then a third, knocking Bronx senseless. He then pulls Bronx up from the mat and quickly turns him around to face the opposite direction. Grabbing onto Bronx’s arm, Stevens then lifts him up into the air before throwing him down hard to the mat with a pump-handle slam.

Dropping down to his knees, Stevens covers Bronx for the pin as the official slides in with the count.

ONE

.

.

Kicking out before the two, Bronx breaks up the pin as Stevens begin growing angry. Placing his hand spread across Bronx’s face, Stevens presses down on it, applying all of his weight, as he pushes himself up. He then grabs a handful of hair before pulling Bronx up to his feet. positioning himself behind Bronx, Stevens wraps him up around the waist with both arms, locking his hands. He then lifts Bronx off his feet and falls back, driving him into the mat with a German suplex. Not releasing his hold, Stevens rolls over to his side and then up to his feet, pulling Bronx up as well. Lifting Bronx again, Stevens slams him to the mat with a second German suplex. Still not releasing his hold, Stevens rises to his feet once more. Using all of his strength, Stevens lifts Bronx off his feet and drives him head first into the mat with a third German suplex! As he releases Bronx, the Starboy stretches out across the mat, leaving the Texan nothing else to do but cover him for the pin.

ONE

.

.

TW–

JOHNSON: ”Bronx kicks out!”

VASSA: ”Stevens isn’t wasting any time here tonight. He’s taking the hurting to Bronx and trying to end this as quickly as possible.”

JOHNSON: ”The sooner he can get this match over with, the sooner he can make sure he keeps himself fresh if he’s going to advance to the finals.”

VASSA: ”That’s actually smart thinking. Even though Bronx made it to the finals last year, his time was cut short due to an injury he suffered during his win in the round prior.”

Leaning up to a seated position, Stevens just shakes his head before looking to the official and mouthing off about the speed of the count. Pushing himself up from the mat, Stevens goes to step towards the official but stops himself as he turns his attention back to Bronx and remains focused on the task at hand. Pulling Bronx up from the mat, Stevens then whips him to the ropes across the ring with every ounce of energy he has in his body. Crashing into the corner, Bronx’s feet shoot up into the air and just as they touch back down, Stevens is right there, closing in and nearly decapitating him with a running clothesline.

Lifting Bronx into the air, Stevens sits him on top of the corner before climbing up to the middle ropes. Holding Bronx’s head in place with his left hand, Stevens begins slamming down powerful strikes with his right into Bronx’s head as the crowd counts along with each landing blow.

“One! … Two! … Three! … Four! … Five! … Six! … Seven! … Eig–“

Throwing his arm up, Bronx fends off the eight punch Stevens throws. Without even the slightest hesitation, Stevens then locks onto Bronx’s head with both hands before slamming his down and hitting Bronx with a vicious headbutt. Stepping up to the top rope, Stevens then pulls Bronx up to a standing position before wrapping both arms around him. Just as Stevens goes to lift Bronx up, Bronx slams both hands together, slapping both of Stevens’ ears and forcing him to release him. Bronx pushes Stevens in the chest with both fists, knocking him backwards off the top of the corner. Just as Stevens lands on his feet, Bronx then leaps towards him, wiping him out with a frog splash cross body. As the Texan falls back first to the mat, Bronx falls on top of him and quickly hooks his leg as the officials races over for the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

JOHNSON: ”Bronx almost had it right there after being beat into a pulp by the angry Texan.”

VASSA: ”That double ear slap looked familiar. I wonder where he learned that from.”

JOHNSON: ”Bronx said it himself, his record isn’t that bad when you look at it. He’s suffered quite a few losses last year to one person in particular and over those matches, I’m sure he was hit with that move a time or two.”

VASSA: ”Good ole’ Jason Cashe! I’d pay good money to see these two go at it just one more time.”

JOHNSON: ”Maybe one day, but he has another Texan on his mind tonight that standing between him getting what he wants out of this tournament.”

Bronx then turns to the ropes and takes off towards them and as he comes back, he leaps forward, planting a knee in Stevens’ stomach before rolling off and up to his feet. The knee to the gut forces Stevens to leans up into a seated position. Bronx then turns to the ropes behind Stevens and takes off even faster. Bouncing off the ropes and coming back as quick as lightning, Bronx jumps up from the mat and extends both legs forward, planting his feet into the small of Stevens’ back with a dropkick. Stevens howls in pain as it shoots up his spine. Pushing himself back up, Bronx sees another window of opportunity and takes it. Stepping past Stevens, Bronx hits the ropes in front of him and as he returns after a few short steps, he nearly takes Stevens’ head off with a superkick! Falling to his back with his arms spread, Stevens is somewhat out cold. Bronx then drops down to his knees and makes the cover as the official rushes over for the count.

ONE

.

.

TW–

VASSA: ”NNOOOO!!!”

JOHNSON: ”Scott Stevens kicks out of another close two count!”

Not wasting any time, Bronx rises to his feet and quickly grabs ahold of Stevens, pulling him up as well. With his grip locked tightly around steven’s wrist, Bronx goes to whip him to the ropes but Stevens reverses and whips Bronx to them instead. As Bronx comes back on the return, Stevens wraps him up with both arms and lifts him up and over, flipping Bronx across the ring and crashing hard against the canvas with an overhead belly to belly suplex. Rolling up to a seated position, Bronx’s head hangs low as he reaches behind him, rubbing his lower back.

Back on his feet, Stevens moves in quickly and kicks his foot up, extending his leg, and planting it directly in the back of Bronx’s head. He then pulls Bronx up to his feet and lifts him into the air, holding Bronx’s horizontally in the air. With all of his strength, Stevens curls Bronx upwards and falls back, Throwing Bronx over his head again, this time with a fall away slam. Climbing over top of Bronx, Stevens mounts himself over Bronx’s torso before swinging downward with lefts and rights, One after another, Stevens hits Bronx in the side of the head with vicious punches. He then stands to his feet and before he leans upward, he reaches down with both hands and wraps them around Bronx’s throat.

Sliding Bronx out from under him, Stevens pulls him up to his feet and then lifts him as high into the air as his arms will allow him. Turning to the nearest corner, Stevens takes giant steps towards it before thrusting forward and launching Bronx into the air. Crashing against the corner, Bronx extends his arms and holds himself up from falling with the top ropes. Stevens then rushes in full speed for the kill.

VASSA: ”This doesn’t look too goo–“

JOHNSON: ”OOHHHH!!!”

Kicking his foot up, Bronx catches Stevens in the mouth with it as he closes in. Instantly Stevens turns the opposite direction as his hand covers his mouth. Snapping out of it, Stevens then spins around and charges in once again.

VASSA: ”He’s mad now!”

JOHNSON: ”But how does that boot taste!”

Kicking his foot up again as Stevens closes in, Bronx catches him with another boot to the mouth. Bronx then pulls himself up to the top ropes but just as he stands, Stevens leaps forward and extends both arms across the top rope, causing Bronx to lose his balance. Quick to react, Bronx hops down from the top and lands on the apron. With Stevens’ midsection exposed, Bronx ducks through the ropes and uses them to pull himself forward, driving his shoulder into Stevens’ stomach. Bronx then pops back up and locks onto Stevens’ holding him in place as he begins slamming knees through the ropes and into his stomach. Ducking Steven’s down, Bronx pull him through the ropes and out onto the apron.

Using the ropes, Bronx vaults himself up and over, turning while in mid-air and landing on the middle rope. He then grabs ahold of Stevens and slowly turns him around to face the crowd. Wrapping both arms around Stevens’ torso, Bronx lifts him up while standing on the middle rope and pulls him up and over the top. Falling backwards, Bronx drives Stevens into the canvas with a German suplex.

JOHNSON: ”The Tweet Delete!”

VASSA: ”People always want to see Twitter Bronx in action well there it is!”

With Stevens laid out on the mat, Bronx pushes himself up and then turns to the corner close by. Kneeling down, he grabs his sunglasses from underneath the turnbuckle and places them over his eyes. Climbing the corner, Bronx makes it to the top before overlooking the crowd and firing off shots with the finger guns. After showing off to the crowd for a few seconds, Bronx then leaps backwards and flips through the air, landing across Stevens’ body with a corkscrew moonsault!

VASSA: ”There it is baby!”

JOHNSON: ”True Light’s Flight!”

Hooking Stevens’ leg, Bronx has him right in place as the official slides in with the count.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

VASSA: ”This one is in the books folks and Bronx advances to the finals to face off with Johnny Evil!”

JOHNSON: ”After a gruesome match that took a lot out of both men, Bronx was able to secure the victory here tonight and he’ll advance to the final round of the South Beach Brawl Cup.”

As Bronx rises to his feet, firing off gunshots through the arena, the official steps in beside him and raises his arm high above his head, declaring him the victor.

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

POWERS: ”Here is your winner, BRONX VVAALLEESSCCEENNCCEE!!!”

“Stranger Things” hits the speakers as Bronx rips his arm away from the official and races over to the far corner across the ring. Leaping up to the middle ropes, he points both finger guns over the crowd, firing off shots in every direction as he celebrates his victory here tonight.

Backstage Perry Wallace is talking to Bronx in the hallway, He gives a hyped up Bronxy V a proud fatherly pat on the back.

WALLACE: ”Son, tonight you made me proud. If Stevens would have won, I really don’t know how the fuck I would take that. I mean Steven’s and Evil both in the finals, that would be a fucking travesty…”

Bronx nods his head in agreement

VALESCENCE: ”Yea, I mean they both got some talent, but this world wants to see Bronxy V shine!!”

Wallace nods and leans in toward Bronx with a serious look on his face…

WALLACE: ”That’s why I need you to win in two weeks, son! I need you to beat Evil’s ass and shut him up. He can’t go to South Beach Brawl and fight Eli for the 4CW Championship!! He wants to destroy everything that I built!”

Bronx looks at Perry with confidence…

WALLACE: ”Son, it’s time you brought the 4CW Championship to where it really belongs. An heir to the throne!!”

Just as Wallace says this, Johnny Evil comes around the corner of the hallway. He notices Bronx and Wallace talking. Limping toward them, Johnny completely forgets about his original reason for roaming the halls to find Adrian Tanner. As he starts to approach, he starts a conflict with Bronx and Wallace.

EVIL: ”So I guess I’m getting a fuckin’ early Christmas present before I take that fucking title from Elijah, huh??”

Wallace looks up.

WALLACE: ”Not really, cause you’re not gonna make it to the South Beach Brawl after my son gets done with you!”

Evil approaches Bronx, face to face and then looks over at Wallace laughing his comment off. Bronx steps forward, almost nose to nose.

VALESCENCE: ”You got something you want to say to me?”

EVIL: ”What?! You wanna’ do this now??”

Evil doesn’t give Bronx time to respond, he swings a left hand catching Bronx in the chin stumbling him back. He rushes at Bronx, but Bronx fires an elbow into Evil’s ribs. The two begin to tussle as Bronx tosses Johnny against the wall. The tussle continues Johnny fires a shot, Bronx follows up with a shot of his own as they tussle out of the hallway and fall over a cart of broadcast equipment.

Bronx lands on top of Evil and begins to reign a barrage of blows upon Evil’s face. Evil pushes Bronx to the side and tries to fire a wild foot at his face as security starts to intervene and break the brawl between Bronx and Evil up as Wallace begins shouting, encouraging Bronx to whoop Evil’s ass.

MAIN EVENT
TARA DAVIDSON VS. ELIJAH CARLSON

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

“Blood, blood, blood

Pump mud through my veins

Shut your dirty, dirty mouth

I’m not that easy”

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

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

“Blood, blood, blood

Pump mud through my veins

I’m a dirty, dirty girl

I want it filthy”

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

VASSA: ”There she is, in all her fine glory. The Red Queen! I can’t wait to see what she has in store for the 4CW Champion tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”There’s certainly no love lost between our reigning champion and I, but I’m not sure it’s going to work out the way you want it to, Vinny.”

VASSA: ”What do you mean? Of course it will!”

JOHNSON: ”One has to wonder if Eli is even going to bother showing up for this match. There’s been some question of that given the comments and hints that have been dropped over the week and a half.”

On que, cutting the commentary off, the lights around the arena go dim as the sounds of a guitar riff begin to reverberate from the speakers around the building. On the screens above the entrance way flash highlights of Elijah Carlson’s tenure in 4CW, with emphasis on his match against Jair and his title defense against Scott Stevens at All or Nothing. As the video clips begin to play on, the opening lyrics of Alter Bridges “My Champion” begin.

”May this be your victory song

A song for you when I am gone

Reminding you of what you’re meant to be.

A gift to bring you clarity

To show you that your destiny

Is not defined by what you’ve failed to see

No”

While Myles Kennedy’s voice drags on the final word of the opening verse, the stage is flooded with bright white lights as the 4CW Champion, Elijah Carlson, emerges from the backstage area in a pair of blue jeans and a tucked in black polo shirt with the 4CW logo on the upper left corner of the shirt. Over his right shoulder the glittering 4CW Championship hangs loosely, boo’s reigning down upon him, although here and there are a few faint cheers that can be heard. Paying little attention to the fans, Eli begins his walk down the ramp toward the ring as the lyrics to the song roll on.

”May this lift you up

When you feel you’ll fall again

You cannot win, no

Hope these words are enough

For you to be strong, my friend”

POWERS: ”And her opponent… standing six feet one inch tall and weighing in at two hundred and ten pounds… he is the 4CW CHAMPION… ELIJAH CCAARRLLSSOONN!!!”

At the bottom of the ramp he looks to his left and spots a young kid reaching out to try and slap hands with him. After a moment of hesitation, Eli shrugged his shoulders and reached out to receive “five” from the kid before turning his attention back to the ring. With ease he ascended the steel ring steps, stepping through the middle and top ropes. As he enters the ring he moves to the far turnbuckle and steps up to the middle rope, raising the 4CW Championship high above his head as the chorus of mostly boo’s erupts in disapproval. Unphased by it, Eli points at the title and then at his chest before hopping down back to the mat.

JOHNSON: ”I gotta say, Vinny, we’ve started to see a shift in the attitude of the 4CW Champion over the past few weeks.”

VASSA: ”I think you’re seeing things, Steve.”

JOHNSON: ”Maybe. But maybe not. Only time will tell I suppose.”

VASSA: ”You’re talking about a guy who spit in the face of Scott Stevens last week, Steve.”

JOHNSON: ”Change doesn’t happen overnight, Vinny.”

Tara and Eli both ready themselves in their own respective corners as the referee checks on both of them to make sure there are no hidden foreign objects or anything of the sort. As he does so he explains the rules of the match to each of them and then verifies that they understand and are ready to begin. Once he has confirmation from the two competitors he moves to the center of the ring, checks with both of them one more time and upon receiving nods of their head, he waves his hand in the air and signals for the bell and the start of the match.

DING!!! DING!!!

Bouncing on his toes, Eli moves to the center of the ring slowly and extends his hand out for Tara to shake. It’s a genuine gesture from one former member of the Royal Family to another. Tara, however, is all business and simply ignores the handshake until Eli pulls his hand back and shrugs his shoulders. A brief burst of boo’s from the crowd, directed at Tara Davidson, cause a sly grin to cross her lips. With a shake of his head he turns his back to the Fate Champion, a mistake he shouldn’t have made as she’s quick to shoot across the ring and roll him up with a schoolboy pinfall attempt, pulling on his tights for more leverage with the referee’s view blocked.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

Eli kicks out with strength and then quickly rolls himself back to his feet, a scowl on his face as he shouts across the ring at Tara and then gestures to the referee that she had tried to cheat for the win. Naturally, the referee responds that he didn’t see anything and Tara simply shrugs her shoulders in mock innocence in reply. With a shake of his head, Eli bounces on his toes and moves back toward the center of the ring. Once more Tara is quick to shoot in on him, attempting a single leg takedown which Eli, with a heavy background in greco-roman wrestling, stuffs with ease. Quickly he spins around her, wrapping his legs around her lower torso as he does so and then locking in a modified chokehold, doing everything he can to cut of the supply of air to her lungs.

Slowly, Tara fights against the chokehold, pulling against Eli’s arms that were locking tighter and tighter against her throat, her face changing from its usual shade to a bright shade of red. Kneeling down beside the two wrestlers, the referee asks Tara if she wants to give up and though she can’t shake her head, her eyebrows furrow in a clear response that said no. Rolling methodically to her knees, and pushing herself up onto her elbows, Tara begins to try to crawl toward the ropes but Eli expertly flattens her out, locking the hold in tighter as her face turns from read to a shade of bluish purple.

Giving up on pulling at Eli’s arms, trying to break free of the hold that way, Tara reaches out for the ropes, her fingertips falling just short. As her hand falls short her body goes momentarily limp, causing the referee to swoop back in and check on her condition. When she doesn’t respond he reaches out and grabs her by the wrist, to which she quickly jerks her hand away. With one final burst of energy, she manages to squirm a few inches closer to the ropes, reaching out and grabbing onto the bottom rope in a last ditch effort. Immediately the referee taps on Eli’s arm, forcing him to relinquish the chokehold.

VASSA: ”Thank God!!”

JOHNSON: ”On the last edition of Adrenaline we saw Tara put Eddie Valentine away with an early submission and we nearly saw Eli repay her the favor this week.”

VASSA: ”Well that’s apparently what Eli does best. Choking women.”

JOHNSON: ”While we all get the reference don’t you think that’s a little bit in poor taste, Vincent?”

Eli slowly backs away to his corner, allowing Tara to work herself back up to her hands and knees, gasping for air as she does so. Once the referee was out of the way, Eli resumed his attack on the Fate champion, planting a stiff boot to her rib cage. The kick flattens Tara back down onto her stomach and immediately she rolls out of the ring and stumbles over to the barricade where she uses that to support herself. Taking in the situation, Eli looks from Tara to the turnbuckle nearby and without wasting a moment moves to it and climbs to the top rope. With Tara still collecting herself, Eli leaps and swan dives in her direction, tumbling and crashing into the barricade as the Red Queen managed to slip out of the way at the last possible moment.

Sensing the momentum changing and an opportunity presenting itself, Tara shakes her head to clear the cobwebs the rest of the way out and then pulls Eli back up to his feet before Irish whipping him into the barricade where he flips over and out into the crowd. Inside the ring the referee recognizes that he has no choice but to start a count towards double disqualification.

”One! … Two! … Three! … Four!”

Out in the general admission seats the fans have cleared room for Tara to go to work as she pulls Eli back up to his feet and delivers three straight knife edge chops to his chest. She then delivers a stiff boot to the abdomen, wrapping her left arm around his head as he doubles over, snapping him down to the concrete floor with a snap ddt. On impact Eli grabs his forehead, writhing in pain. Somehow the maneuver didn’t bust him open but it’s clear he’s going to have one hell of a headache at the end of the night.

”Five! … Six! … Seven! … Eight!”

Once more dragging Eli back to his feet, Tara delivers a few strikes with her fist to his face before dragging him back over to the barrier where she takes him by the back of the head and drives him face first into the top of the barricade. The Red Queen then deposits Eli back over the barricade, to the area just outside the ring. As she does so she hops up onto the barricade herself and leaps in his direction, driving a double axe handle down across his sternum, knocking him back down to the ground once again. Immediately upon impact she sees the referee’s hands go up into the air once more.

”Nine!”

Pulling Eli back up by his hair yet again, she rolls him into the ring and follows suit, breaking the count half a second before the referee could reach ten. To signal that the match could go on the referee waves his arms horizontally in front of him in a “no good” motion. As Tara looks to set herself upon Eli once more he moves, out of desperation, and leaps into the air catching Tara flush with a spinning heel kick to the face that knocks her down to the mat. Both the 4CW and Fate Champions then remain down, taking the time to catch their breaths and regain their composure and bearings.

VASSA: ”Do you know what I see right now? I see a champion that’s in trouble!”

JOHNSON: ”But which one is it? It’s no secret that outside of a submission hold Tara has gotten in most of the offense this evening. Anyone with two eyes can see that. And yet, with one move, Eli brought all of Tara’s momentum to a stand still.”

VASSA: ”It doesn’t matter. She’s clearly the better competitor here tonight. Might as well ring the bell right now.”

JOHNSON: ”I’ll tell you what my dad used to tell me all the time, Vinny. Don’t count your chickens before they hatch.”

Both Tara and Eli begin to push themselves back up to their feet at the same time. Eli manages to get up first and swing a right fist aimed for her temple but Tara ducks under and wraps around Eli’s back. As she does so she hooks one leg around his and then slams him down face first with a forward Russian Leg Sweep. Back to her feet in an instant, Tara moves to stand in front of Eli who is still lying face first down on the mat. Quickly, she flips over him and bridges, locking in a bridging reverse chin lock that torques Eli’s whole upper body but primarily his head and neck in an awkward direction. The crowd winces in response and, somewhere in the arena, a quiet chant begins.

”Let’s Go, Eli!” *clap clap clapclapclap* “Let’s Go, Eli!” *clap clap clapclapclap*

VASSA: ”No way…”

JOHNSON: ”Are we hearing what I think we’re hearing?!”

Tara snarls and shouts as she pulls on the hold even harder in response to the chants of the fans, as if to spite them. While the chant in support of the 4CW Champion continues, another chant, counter to the first one, ensues.

”Let’s Go, Eli!

ELI SUCKS!

Let’s Go, Eli!

ELI SUCKS!”

While Tara continues to snarl and growl as she torques the hold in deeper, Eli begins pounding his fist on the mat rhythmically which the fans who had been cheering for him begin to pick up on and mimick, while those who had been chanting that he suck boo as loudly as they can to try and cover up the rhythmic clapping that was giving him a second win. First, he gets up to one knee and then to another, his face contorted in pain as the reverse chin lock continues to be wrenched on viciously. Finally, Eli breaks free of the hold and shoots up to a standing position where immediately sprints across the ring, rebounding off the ropes as Tara gets back to hers.

Just as they’re about to collide, Tara leaps into the air with Eli ducking under and bouncing off the opposite ropes. As he sprints back towards her yet again, Tara tries to connect with a spinning elbow but Eli ducks under that attempt and swings himself around Tara’s back, hooking his arm around her head, pulling her down to the mat with his own ddt. Quickly, Eli rolls her over onto her stomach and hooks the leg.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

KICKOUT!!!

When Tara kicks out, both opponents scramble back to their feet. Tara strikes first delivering a solid strike to the face but Eli responds with a blow of his own and then quickly follows it up with a boot to the stomach. Transitioning quickly, Eli wraps his arm around Tara’s neck again and takes her down to the mat with a swinging neckbreaker. Tara scrambles back to her feet yet again as Eli does, this time she’s the one to strike harder, absorbing a stiff right hand from Eli and pouncing on him with a kick to the boot and a facebuster that drives him straight down to the mat.

VASSA: ”FACE LIFT!”

JOHNSON: ”The 4CW Champion is in trouble folks. It’s been back and forth action between the two for the last few minutes but Tara Davidson just caught him completely off guard.”

VASSA: ”Put him away, Tara!”

A woozy Eli doesn’t realize that Tara is waiting to pounce as he slowly begins to work his way back to his feet. Pushing himself up to one knee, he brings a hand to his eyes to wipe the sweat away before pushing himself up to a standing position, hunched over with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a flash of movement as Tara steps towards him and leaps into the air, swinging one leg over the top of his head. Sensing danger, Eli stands up straight and steps back as Tara’s leg drops down a half second too late, missing on the scissor kick that she calls the good night kiss. As she stumbles awkwardly past, Eli spins and leaps just as she turns back to face him, his foot connecting with her temple.

VASSA: ”NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!”

JOHNSON: ”YOUR CORONATION FROM ELI!”

The pele kick dazes Tara immediately, causing her to stumble back against the ropes and then take a few steps forward as she tries to clear her mind. Eli, meanwhile, kips back up to his feet much to the pleasure of his new found fanbase. He instantly takes off running towards the opposite ropes, bouncing off of them for leverage and momentum, taking off at a full sprint in Tara’s direction where he leaps into the air, plants his boot just below her chin on her sternum, steamrolling her and flattening her on the mat.

VASSA: ”Nononononononono!”

JOHNSON: ”RED LIGHT SPECIAL! RED LIGHT SPECIAL! RED LIGHT SPECIAL!”

The fans erupt in a mixture of glee and anger as Eli rolls over and lays back first across the Fate Champion, hooking her leg with his left arm and raising his right into the air, counting along with the referee as he slides in to count the pinfall.

ONE

.

.

TWO

.

.

THREE!!!

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

Immediately the referee signals for the bell as Eli lowers his hand, which had been extended upward holding three fingers up. Heaving a sigh of relief, he pushed himself up to a sitting position and slowly got back to his feet as the referee moved to raise his arm in the air in victory while Mike Powers announced the result.

POWERS: ”Here is your winner by pinfall… ELIJAH CCAARRLLASSOONN!!!”

For a moment, after the referee released his arm, Eli knelt down to check on Tara, just as she was starting to stir once more, before rolling himself out of the ring and moving over towards the timekeeper.

VASSA: ”Ugh… I hate tonight.”

JOHNSON: ”I don’t know how you could possibly hate tonight, Vinny. We just witnessed one hell of a main event.”

VASSA: ”Yeah but..”

JOHNSON: ”Yeah but what? It was the cherry on top of a wonderful evening of competition here under the 4CW Banner.”

VASSA: ”Ugh… if you say so.”

JOHNSON: ”Think about it. The Finals for the South Beach Brawl Cu-… actually hold that thought it looks like the champion has something to say.”

Outside the ring, Eli has retrieved a microphone and is tapping it and waiting to hear that it’s active. When a few thuds reverberate throughout the arena he nods at the timekeeper and then rolls himself back into the ring where he paces back and forth momentarily. Prior to him returning the ring the referee and fate champion had cleared out and headed to the back so all that was left was him, with an audience waiting to hear what he has to say.

CARLSON: ”You know… for nine months I’ve been a part of this company and have busted my ass and broken my back week in and week out. And most of the time you all have booed me. You’ve hated me. You’ve despised me. And yet tonight… in the middle of my match… I swear I could have heard some of you chanting my name.”

A bit uncertainly those who had been cheering for him clapped and yelled, but the anxiousness in their applause was evident.

CARLSON: ”I have to admit… that was pretty cool. And it got me thinking as the referee was counting that pinfall tonight. I finally can sit here and say I understand why Hopkins was always willing to break his back for you guys. You see. I’ve spent months doing everything I could to propel my career forward. If there was a throat that needed to be cut to get me to that next stepping stone. I did it. And it got me here, where I’m at today, standing before you all as the 4CW Champion.”

The uncertain applause continued, mixed in with some boos from those in the crowd who genuinely could not stand him. Taking a deep breath, Eli wiped the sweat from his brow and continued on.

CARLSON: ”I don’t regret the things I’ve done in the past but my eyes were opened to the bullshit of the man who runs this company this week. You see, this match between Tara and I, the Fate Champion against the 4CW Champion, is one that should have been celebrated. It’s one that should have been anticipated. It’s one that should have had all of you waiting on the edges of your seats in excitement all night long. Instead, it was clouded and overshadowed by Perry Wallace’s petty bullshit.”

Picking up steam, Eli begins to pace back and forth methodically in the ring, his expression becoming more animated and intense with each passing moment.

CARLSON: ”In two weeks Johnny Evil and Bronx Valescence will square off in the finals of the South Beach Brawl Cup to determine who will face me at the pay per view but do you know what the world is going to be talking about. They’re going to be talking about how maybe Evil doesn’t belong in the match because my wife, Genie, had it in the bag before Wallace had his entrance music play and distract her. Once again a match that should have everyone on the edge of their seats in anticipation is clouded by Perry Wallace’s personal vendetta’s.”

Raising his free hand up into the air, Eli began to point at the crowd, making his way around the arena to point at every section.

CARLSON: ”I nearly stayed at the hotel for that very reason. Because I refuse to be used by him. But you all paid good money to see a main event filled with the top stars this company has to offer and I wasn’t going to be the one to deprive you of that. The simple fact of the matter is, though, that I deserve better. All of you deserve better. This company deserves better. So here is my promise to each and every one of you…”

With a slight smile, Eli rubbed at the corners of his mouth and then continued to speak, looking directly into the camera.

CARLSON: ”Wallace can throw whoever he wants to at me. It doesn’t matter whether it’s Johnny Evil or Bronx Valescence who faces me at South Beach Brawl, the whole world will see what I’ve been proving week in and week out for months on end. That with me, all things are possible.”

Turning to face the entrance ramp, Eli once more extended his arm this time to point towards the backstage area, as though he was pointing directly at the owner of 4CW.

CARLSON: ”These fans deserve better than what you’ve been offering, Perry, and I’m going to give it to them. So at South Beach Brawl myself, and all of the fans of 4CW around the world, will prove that with you or without you they have a 4CW Champion in whom all things are possible.”

As he lowered the microphone the fans erupted in a chorus of cheers, as the fans watching at home around the world witnessed something they never thought they would see in their lives. A majority of the 4CW fan base in live attendance cheering in support of the champion, and a smile filling his face as they began to chant.

”ALL THINGS POSSIBLE! ALL THINGS POSSIBLE! ALL THINGS POSSIBLE!”

JOHNSON: ”I can’t believe what I’m witnessing. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. What was that you were disagreeing with me about earlier, Vinny?”

VASSA: ”Oh god make them shut up already, Jesus!”

JOHNSON: ”Well if you ask me I’d say there’s no question that our champion has turned a new page and the fans and I are in agreement, it’s definitely for the better.”

VASSA: ”What the hell do the fans know? They cheer for that idiot Troll Guy every week..”

JOHNSON: ”I think they’re cheering because, once again, we’ve got a champion who is placing their interests in his heart as well, who is concerned with putting on a show unlike any other in the world for them on every edition of Adrenaline and at every pay per view.”

VASSA: ”Ugh… how fucking cliche is that.”

JOHNSON: ”Cliche or not the fans like it and want more of it. I’d say the roster as a whole delivered tonight, don’t you?”

VASSA: ”How can he point the finger at Perry like that? Now that man has turned a new leaf. He’s reunited fathers and sons. He didn’t force Genie to turn her back on him. She forced herself because she thought everything should be handed to her on a silver fucking platter.”

JOHNSON: ”And what was that little piece during her match that he just had to appear to distract her?”

VASSA: ”Now that was justice! I’m not buying it. Eli can come out here and lie to everyone all he wants. It won’t be the first time. He did it with a fake divorce. There was probably no baby in Genie to begin with and it was all just another elaborate scheme from the Carlson’s.”

JOHNSON: ”Call it what you want to, but it seems like we have one more round before South Beach Brawl to decide who will challenge Eli for the 4CW Championship.”

VASSA: ”Johnny Evil or Bronx Valescence. Now Bronx is what Genie should try to be. That’s true love between a father and son.”

JOHNSON: ”Whatever you say, buddy. Anywho! We’re out of time folks. Be sure to tune in two weeks from now as we head down to the Philips Arena in Atlanta, Georgia!”

VASSA: ”Hotlanta here we come!”

JOHNSON: ”From everyone here at 4CW, we hope you all have a wonderful night. I’m Steve Johnson…”

VASSA: ”And I’m Vinny Vassa! Good fight, good night!”

With Eli in the picture and seeming to have gained support from the fans, he looks over the crowd as the scene slowly fades to nothing but black. After a few short moments, the official poster for South Beach Brawl then comes into display as our show comes to an end.